CRISIS IN THE ADMIRAL'S LIFE
Columbus was not far wrong in his estimate of the effect likely to be
produced by his manacles, and when the ships of Villegio arrived at Cadiz
in October, the spectacle of an Admiral in chains produced a degree of
commiseration which must have exceeded his highest hopes. He was now in
his fiftieth year and of an extremely venerable appearance, his kindling
eye looking forth from under brows of white, his hair and beard
snow-white, his face lined and spiritualised with suffering and sorrow.
It must be remembered that before the Spanish people he had always
appeared in more or less state. They had not that intimacy with him, an
intimacy which perhaps brought contempt, which the people in Espanola
enjoyed; and in Spain, therefore, the contrast between his former
grandeur and this condition of shame and degradation was the more
striking. It was a fact that the people of Spain could not neglect. It
touched their sense of the dramatic and picturesque, touched their
hearts also perhaps--hearts quick to burn, quick to forget. They had
forgotten him before, now they burned with indignation at the picture of
this venerable and much-suffering man arriving in disgrace.
His letter to Dofia Juana, hastily despatched by him, probably through
the office of some friendly soul on board, immediately on his arrival at
Cadiz, was the first news from the ship received by the King and Queen,
and naturally it caused them a shock of surprise. It was followed by the
despatches from Bobadilla and by a letter from the Alcalde of Cadiz
announcing that Columbus and his brothers were in his custody awaiting
the royal orders. Perhaps Ferdinand and Isabella had already repented
their drastic action and had entertained some misgivings as to its
results; but it is more probable that they had put it out of their heads
altogether, and that their hasty action now was prompted as much by the
shock of being recalled to a consciousness of the troubled state of
affairs in the New World as by any real regret for what they had done.
Moreover they had sent out Bobadilla to quiet things down; and the first
result of it was that Spain was ringing with the scandal of the Admiral's
treatment. In that Spanish world, unsteadfast and unstable, when one end
of the see-saw was up the other must be down; and it was Columbus who now
found himself high up in the heavens of favour, and Bobadilla who was
seated in the dust. Equipoise any kind was apparently a thing
impossible; if one man was right the other man must be wrong; no excuses
for Bobadilla; every excuse for the Admiral.
The first official act, therefore, was an order for the immediate release
of the Admiral and his brothers, followed by an invitation for him to
proceed without delay to the Court at Granada, and an order for the
immediate payment to him of the sum of 2000 ducats [perhaps $250,000 in
the year 2000 D.W.] this last no ungenerous gift to a Viceroy whose
pearl accounts were in something less than order. Perhaps Columbus had
cherished the idea of appearing dramatically before the very Court in his
rags and chains; but the cordiality of their letter as well as the gift
of money made this impossible. Instead, not being a man to do things by
halves, he equipped himself in his richest and most splendid garments,
got together the requisite number of squires and pages, and duly
presented himself at Granada in his full dignity. The meeting was an
affecting one, touched with a humanity which has survived the intervening
centuries, as a touch of true humanity will when details of mere parade
and etiquette have long perished. Perhaps the Admiral, inspired with a
deep sense of his wrongs, meant to preserve a very stiff and cold
demeanour at the beginning of this interview; but when he looked into the
kind eyes of Isabella and saw them suffused with tears at the thought of
his sorrows all his dignity broke down; the tears came to his own eyes,
and he wept there naturally like a child. Ferdinand looking on kind but
uncomfortable; Isabella unaffectedly touched and weeping; the Admiral, in
spite of his scarlet cloak and golden collar and jewelled sword, in spite
of equerries, squires, pages and attendants, sobbing on his knees like a
child or an old man-these were the scenes and kindly emotions of this
historic moment.
The tears were staunched by kindly royal words and handkerchiefs supplied
by attendant pages; sobbings breaking out again, but on the whole soon
quieted; King and Queen raising the gouty Christopher from his knees,
filling the air with kind words of sympathy, praise, and encouragement;
the lonely worn heart, somewhat arid of late, and parched from want of
human sympathy, much refreshed by this dew of kindness. The Admiral was
soon himself again, and he would not have been himself if upon recovering
he had not launched out into what some historians call a "lofty and
dignified vindication of his loyalty and zeal." No one, indeed, is
better than the Admiral at such lofty and dignified vindications. He
goes into the whole matter and sets forth an account of affairs at
Espanola from his own point of view; and can even (so high is the
thermometer of favour) safely indulge in a little judicious
self-depreciation, saying that if he has erred it has not been from want
of zeal but from want of experience in dealing with the kind of material
he has been set to govern. All this is very human, natural, and
understandable; product of that warm emotional atmosphere, bedewed with
tears, in which the Admiral finds himself; and it is not long before the
King and Queen, also moved to it by the emotional temperature, are
expressing their unbroken and unbounded confidence in him and
repudiating the acts of Bobadilla, which they declare to have been
contrary to their instructions; undertaking also that he shall be
immediately dismissed from his post. Poor Bobadilla is not here in the
warm emotional atmosphere; he had his turn of it six months ago, when no
powers were too high or too delicate to be entrusted to him; he is out
in the cold at the other end of the see-saw, which has let him down to
the ground with a somewhat sudden thump.
Columbus, relying on the influence of these emotions, made bold to ask
that his property in the island should be restored to him, which was
immediately granted; and also to request that he should be reinstated in
his office of Viceroy and allowed to return at once in triumph to
Espanola. But emotions are unstable things; they present a yielding
surface which will give to any extent, but which, when it has hardened
again after the tears have evaporated, is often found to be in much the
same condition as before. At first promises were made that the whole
matter should be fully gone into; but when it came to cold fact,
Ferdinand was obliged to recognise that this whole business of discovery
and colonisation had become a very different thing to what it had been
when Columbus was the only discoverer; and he was obviously of opinion
that, as Columbus's office had once been conveniently withdrawn from him,
it would only be disastrous to reinstate him in it. Of course he did not
say so at once; but reasons were given for judicious delay in the
Admiral's reappointment. It was represented to him that the colony,
being in an extremely unsettled state, should be given a short period of
rest, and also that it would be as well for him to wait until the people
who had given him so much trouble in the island could be quietly and
gradually removed. Two years was the time mentioned as suitable for an
interregnum, and it is probable that it was the intention of Isabella,
although not of Ferdinand, to restore Columbus to his office at the end
of that time.
In the meantime it became necessary to appoint some one to supersede
Bobadilla; for the news that arrived periodically from Espanola during
the year showed that he had entirely failed in his task of reducing the
island to order. For the wholesome if unequal rigours of Columbus
Bobadilla had substituted laxness and indulgence, with the result that
the whole colony was rapidly reduced to a state of the wildest disorder.
Vice and cruelty were rampant; in fact the barbarities practised upon the
natives were so scandalous that even Spanish opinion, which was never
very sympathetic to heathen suffering, was thoroughly shocked and
alarmed. The Sovereigns therefore appointed Nicholas de Ovando to go out
and take over the command, with instructions to use very drastic means
for bringing the colony to order. How he did it we shall presently see;
in the meantime all that was known of him (the man not having been tried
yet) was that he was a poor knight of Calatrava, a man respected in royal
circles for the performance of minor official duties, but no very popular
favourite; honest according to his lights--lights turned rather low and
dim, as was often the case in those days. A narrow-minded man also,
without sympathy or imagination, capable of cruelty; a tough,
stiff-necked stock of a man, fit to deal with Bobadilla perhaps, but
hardly fit to deal with the colony. Spain in those days was not a
nursery of administration. Of all the people who were sent out
successively to govern Espanola and supersede one another, the only one
who really seems to have had the necessary natural ability, had he but
been given the power, was Bartholomew Columbus; but unfortunately things
were in such a state that the very name of Columbus was enough to bar a
man from acceptance as a governor of Espanola.
It was not for any lack of powers and equipment that this procession of
governors failed in their duties. We have seen with what authority
Bobadilia had been entrusted; and Ovando had even greater advantages.
The instructions he received showed that the needs of the new colonies
were understood by Ferdinand and Isabella, if by no one else. Ovando was
not merely appointed Governor of Espanola but of the whole of the new
territory discovered in the west, his seat of government being San
Domingo. He was given the necessary free hand in the matters of
punishment, confiscation, and allotment of lands. He was to revoke the
orders which had been made by Bobadilla reducing the proportion of gold
payable to the Crown, and was empowered to take over one-third of the.
gold that was stored on the island, and one-half of what might be found
in the future. The Crown was to have a monopoly of all trade, and
ordinary supplies were only to be procured through the Crown agent.
On the other hand, the natives were to be released from slavery, and
although forced to work in the mines, were to be paid for their labour
--a distinction which in the working out did not produce much difference.
A body of Franciscan monks accompanied Ovando for the purpose of tackling
the religious question with the necessary energy; and every regulation
that the kind heart of Isabella could think of was made for the happiness
and contentment of the Indians.
Unhappily the real mischief had already been done. The natives, who had
never been accustomed to hard and regular work under the conditions of
commerce and greed, but had only toiled for the satisfaction of their own
simple wants, were suffering cruelly under the hard labour in the mines,
and the severe driving of their Spanish masters. Under these unnatural
conditions the native population was rapidly dying off, and there was
some likelihood that there would soon be a scarcity of native labour.
These were the circumstances in which the idea of importing black African
labour to the New World was first conceived--a plan which was destined to
have results so tremendous that we have probably not yet seen their full
and ghastly development. There were a great number of African negro
slaves at that time in Spain; a whole generation of them had been born in
slavery in Spain itself; and this generation was bodily imported to
Espanola to relieve and assist the native labour.
These preparations were not made all at once; and it was more than a year
after the return of Columbus before Ovando was ready to sail. In the
meantime Columbus was living in Granada, and looking on with no very
satisfied eye at the plans which were being made to supersede him, and
about which he was probably not very much consulted; feeling very sore
indeed, and dividing his attention between the nursing of his grievances
and other even less wholesome occupations. There was any amount of
smiling kindness for him at Court, but very little of the satisfaction
that his vanity and ambition craved; and in the absence of practical
employment he fell back on visionary speculations. He made great friends
at this time with a monk named Gaspar Gorricio, with whose assistance he
began to make some kind of a study of such utterances of the Prophets and
the Fathers as he conceived to have a bearing on his own career.
Columbus was in fact in a very queer way at this time; and what with his
readings and his meditatings and his grievances, and his visits to his
monkish friend in the convent of Las Cuevas, he fell into a kind of
intellectual stupor, of which the work called 'Libro de las Profecias,'
or Book of the Prophecies, in which he wrote down such considerations as
occurred to him in his stupor, was the result. The manuscript of this
work is in existence, although no human being has ever ventured to
reprint the whole of it; and we would willingly abstain from mentioning
it here if it were not an undeniable act of Columbus's life. The
Admiral, fallen into theological stupor, puts down certain figures upon
paper; discovers that St. Augustine said that the world would only last
for 7000 years; finds that some other genius had calculated that before
the birth of Christ it had existed for 5343 years and 318 days; adds 1501
years from the birth of Christ to his own time; adds up, and finds that
the total is 6844 years; subtracts, and discovers that this earthly globe
can only last 155 years longer. He remembers also that, still according
to the Prophets, certain things must happen before the end of the world;
Holy Sepulchre restored to Christianity, heathen converted, second coming
of Christ; and decides that he himself is the man appointed by God and
promised by the Prophets to perform these works. Good Heavens! in what
an entirely dark and sordid stupor is our Christopher now sunk--a
veritable slough and quag of stupor out of which, if he does not manage
to flounder himself, no human hand can pull him.
But amid his wallowings in this slough of stupor, when all else, in him
had been well-nigh submerged by it, two dim lights were preserved towards
which, although foundered up to the chin, he began to struggle; and by
superhuman efforts did at last extricate himself from the theological
stupor and get himself blown clean again by the salt winds before he
died. One light was his religion; not to be confounded with theological
stupor, but quite separate from it in my belief; a certain steadfast and
consuming faith in a Power that could see and understand and guide him to
the accomplishment of his purpose. This faith had been too often a good
friend and help to Christopher for him to forget it very long, even while
he was staggering in the quag with Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the Fathers; and
gradually, as I say, he worked himself out into the region of activity
again. First, thinking it a pity that his flounderings in the slough
should be entirely wasted, he had a copy of his precious theological work
made and presented it to the Sovereigns, with a letter urging them (since
he himself was unable to do it) to undertake a crusade for the recovery
of the Holy Sepulchre--not an altogether wild proposal in those days.
But Ferdinand had other uses for his men and his money, and contented
himself with despatching Peter Martyr on a pacific mission to the Grand
Soldan of Egypt.
The other light left unquenched in Columbus led him back to the firm
ground of maritime enterprise; he began to long for the sea again, and
for a chance of doing something to restore his reputation. An infinitely
better and more wholesome frame of mind this; by all means let him mend
his reputation by achievement, instead of by writing books in a
theological trance or stupor, and attempting to prove that he was chosen
by the Almighty. He now addressed himself to the better task of getting
himself chosen by men to do something which should raise him again in
their esteem.
His maritime ambition was no doubt stimulated at this time by witnessing
the departure of Ovando, in February 1502, with a fleet of thirty-five
ships and a company of 2500 people. It was not in the Admiral's nature
to look on without envy at an equipment the like of which he himself had
never been provided with, and he did not restrain his sarcasms at its
pomp and grandeur, nor at the ease with which men could follow a road
which had once been pointed out to them. Ovando had a great body-guard
such as Columbus had never had; and he also carried with him a great
number of picked married men with their families, all with knowledge of
some trade or craft, whose presence in the colony would be a guarantee
of permanence and steadiness. He perhaps remembered his own crowd of
ruffians and gaol-birds, and realised the bitterness of his own mistakes.
It was a very painful moment for him, and he was only partially
reconciled to it by the issue of a royal order to Ovando under which he
was required to see to the restoration of the Admiral's property. If it
had been devoted to public purposes it was to be repaid him from the
royal funds; but if it had been merely distributed among the colonists
Bobadilla was to be made responsible for it. The Admiral was also
allowed to send out an agent to represent him and look after his
interests; and he appointed Alonso de Carvajal to this office.
Ovando once gone, the Admiral could turn again to his own affairs.
It is true there were rumours that the whole fleet had perished, for it
encountered a gale very soon after leaving Cadiz, and a great quantity of
the deck hamper was thrown overboard and was washed on the shores of
Spain; and the Sovereigns were so bitterly distressed that, as it is
said, they shut them selves up for eight days. News eventually came,
however, that only one ship had been lost and that the rest had proceeded
safely to San Domingo. Columbus, much recovered in body and mind, now
began to apply for a fleet for himself. He had heard of the discovery by
the Portuguese of the southern route to India; no doubt he had heard also
much gossip of the results of the many private voyages of discovery that
were sailing from Spain at this time; and he began to think seriously
about his own discoveries and the way in which they might best be
extended. He thought much of his voyage to the west of Trinidad and of
the strange pent-up seas and currents that he had discovered there. He
remembered the continual westward trend of the current, and how all the
islands in that sea had their greatest length east and west, as though
their shores had been worn into that shape by the constant flowing of the
current; and it was not an unnatural conclusion for him to suppose that
there was a channel far to the west through which these seas poured and
which would lead him to the Golden Chersonesus. He put away from him
that nightmare madness that he transacted on the coast of Cuba. He knew
very well that he had not yet found the Golden Chersonesus and the road
to India; but he became convinced that the western current would lead him
there if only he followed it long enough. There was nothing insane about
this theory; it was in fact a very well-observed and well-reasoned
argument; and the fact that it happened to be entirely wrong is no
reflection on the Admiral's judgment. The great Atlantic currents at
that time had not been studied; and how could he know that the western
stream of water was the northern half of a great ocean current which
sweeps through the Caribbean Sea, into and round the Gulf of Mexico, and
flows out northward past Florida in the Gulf Stream?
His applications for a fleet were favourably received by the King and
Queen, but much frowned upon by certain high officials of the Court.
They were beginning to regard Columbus as a dangerous adventurer who,
although he happened to have discovered the western islands, had brought
the Spanish colony there to a dreadful state of disorder; and had also,
they alleged, proved himself rather less than trustworthy in matters of
treasure. Still in the summer days of 1501 he was making himself very
troublesome at Court with constant petitions and letters about his rights
and privileges; and Ferdinand was far from unwilling to adopt a plan by
which they would at least get rid of him and keep him safely occupied at
the other side of the world at the cost of a few caravels. There was,
besides, always an element of uncertainty. His voyage might come to
nothing, but on the other hand the Admiral was no novice at this game of
discovery, and one could not tell but that something big might come of
it. After some consideration permission was given to him to fit out a
fleet of four ships, and he proceeded to Seville in the autumn of 1501
to get his little fleet ready. Bartholomew was to come with him, and his
son Ferdinand also, who seems to have much endeared himself to the
Admiral in these dark days, and who would surely be a great comfort to
him on the voyage. Beatriz Enriquez seems to have passed out of his
life; certainly he was not living with her either now or on his last
visit to Spain; one way or another, that business is at an end for him.
Perhaps poor Beatriz, seeing her son in such a high place at Court, has
effaced herself for his sake; perhaps the appointment was given on
condition of such effacement; we do not know.
Columbus was in no hurry over his preparations. In the midst of them he
found time to collect a whole series of documents relating to his titles
and dignities, which he had copied and made into a great book which he
called his "Book of Privileges," and the copies of which were duly
attested before a notary at Seville on January 5, 1502. He wrote many
letters to various friends of his, chiefly in relation to these
privileges; not interesting or illuminating letters to us, although very
important to busy Christopher when he wrote them. Here is one written to
Nicolo Oderigo, a Genoese Ambassador who came to Spain on a brief mission
in the spring of 1502, and who, with certain other residents in Spain, is
said to have helped Columbus in his preparations for his fourth voyage:
"Sir,--The loneliness in which you have left us cannot be described.
I gave the book containing my writings to Francisco de Rivarol that
he may send it to you with another copy of letters containing
instructions. I beg you to be so kind as to write Don Diego in
regard to the place of security in which you put them. Duplicates
of everything will be completed and sent to you in the same manner
and by the same Francisco. Among them you will find a new document.
Their Highnesses promised to give all that belongs to me and to
place Don Diego in possession of everything, as you will see. I
wrote to Senor Juan Luis and to Sefora Catalina. The letter
accompanies this one. I am ready to start in the name of the Holy
Trinity as soon as the weather is good. I am well provided with
everything. If Jeronimo de Santi Esteban is coming, he must await
me and not embarrass himself with anything, for they will take away
from him all they can and silently leave him. Let him come here and
the King and the Queen will receive him until I come. May our Lord
have you in His holy keeping.
"Done at Seville, March 21, 1502.
"At your command.
.S.
.S.A.S.
Xpo FERENS."
His delays were not pleasing to Ferdinand, who wanted to get rid of him,
and he was invited to hurry his departure; but he still continued to go
deliberately about his affairs, which he tried to put in order as far as
he was able, since he thought it not unlikely that he might never see
Spain again. Thinking thus of his worldly duties, and his thoughts
turning to his native Genoa, it occurred to him to make some benefaction
out of the riches that were coming to him by which his name might be
remembered and held in honour there. This was a piece of practical
kindness the record of which is most precious to us; for it shows the
Admiral in a truer and more human light than he often allowed to shine
upon him. The tone of the letter is nothing; he could not forbear
letting the people of Genoa see how great he was. The devotion of his
legacy to the reduction of the tax on simple provisions was a genuine
charity, much to be appreciated by the dwellers in the Vico Dritto di
Ponticello, where wine and provision shops were so very necessary to
life. The letter was written to the Directors of the famous Bank of
Saint George at Genoa.
"VERY NOBLE LORDS,--Although my body is here, my heart is
continually yonder. Our Lord has granted me the greatest favour he
has granted any one since the time of David. The results of my
undertaking already shine, and they would make a great light if the
obscurity of the Government did not conceal them. I shall go again
to the Indies in the name of the Holy Trinity, to return
immediately. And as I am mortal, I desire my son Don Diego to give
to you each year, for ever, the tenth part of all the income
received, in payment of the tax on wheat, wine, and other
provisions. If this tenth amounts to anything, receive it, and if
not, receive my will for the deed. I beg you as a favour to have
this son of mine in your charge. Nicolo de Oderigo knows more about
my affairs than I myself. I have sent him the copy of my privileges
and letters, that he may place them in safe keeping. I would be
glad if you could see them. The King and the Queen, my Lords, now
wish to honour me more than ever. May the Holy Trinity guard your
noble persons, and increase the importance of your very magnificent
office.
"Done in Seville, April a, 1502.
"The High-Admiral of the Ocean-Sea and Viceroy and Governor-General
of the islands and mainland of Asia and the Indies, belonging to the
King and Queen, my Lords, and the Captain-General of the Sea, and a
Member of their Council.
.S.
.S.A.S.
X M Y
Xpo FERENS."
Columbus was anxious to touch at Espanola on his voyage to the West; but
he was expressly forbidden to do so, as it was known that his presence
there could not make for anything but confusion; he was to be permitted,
however, to touch there on his return journey. The Great Khan was not
out of his mind yet; much in it apparently, for he took an Arabian
interpreter with him so that he could converse with that monarch. In
fact he did not hesitate to announce that very big results indeed were to
come of this voyage of his; among other things he expected to
circumnavigate the globe, and made no secret of his expectation. In the
meantime he was expected to find some pearls in order to pay for the
equipment of his fleet; and in consideration of what had happened to the
last lot of pearls collected by him, an agent named Diego de Porras was
sent along with him to keep an account of the gold and precious stones
which might be discovered. Special instructions were issued to Columbus
about the disposal of these commodities. He does not seem to have minded
these somewhat humiliating precautions; he had a way of rising above
petty indignities and refusing to recognise them which must have been of
great assistance to his self-respect in certain troubled moments in his
life.
His delays, however, were so many that in March 1502 the Sovereigns were
obliged to order him to depart without any more waiting. Poor
Christopher, who once had to sue for the means with which to go, whose
departures were once the occasion of so much state and ceremony, has now
to be hustled forth and asked to go away. Still he does not seem to
mind; once more, as of old, his gaze is fixed beyond the horizon and his
mind is filled with one idea. They may not think much of him in Spain
now, but they will when he comes back; and he can afford to wait.
Completing his preparations without undignified haste he despatched
Bartholomew with his four little vessels from Seville to Cadiz, where the
Admiral was to join them. He took farewell of his son Diego and of his
brother James; good friendly James, who had done his best in a difficult
position, but had seen quite enough of the wild life of the seas and was
now settled in Seville studying hard for the Church. It had always been
his ambition, poor James; and, studying hard in Seville, he did in time
duly enter the sacred pale and become a priest--by which we may see that
if our ambitions are only modest enough we may in time encompass them.
Sometimes I think that James, enveloped in priestly vestments, nodding in
the sanctuary, lulled by the muttering murmur of the psalms or dozing
through a long credo, may have thought himself back amid the brilliant
sunshine and strange perfumes of Espanola; and from a dream of some nymph
hiding in the sweet groves of the Vega may have awakened with a sigh to
the strident Alleluias of his brother priests. At any rate, farewell to
James, safely seated beneath the Gospel light, and continuing to sit
there until, in the year 1515, death interrupts him. We are not any more
concerned with James in his priestly shelter, but with those elder
brothers of his who are making ready again to face the sun and the
surges.
Columbus's ships were on the point of sailing when word came that the
Moors were besieging a Portuguese post on the coast of Morocco, and, as
civility was now the order of the day between Spain and Portugal, the
Admiral was instructed to call on his way there and afford some relief.
This he did, sailing from Cadiz on the 9th or 10th of May to Ercilla on
the Morocco coast, where he anchored on the 13th. But the Moors had all
departed and the siege was over; so Columbus, having sent Bartholomew and
some of his officers ashore on a civil visit, which was duly returned,
set out the same day on his last voyage.