THE RETURN IN THE NINA
Espanola, or Haiti, the name we know it by, evidently corresponded to
all of the Admiral's preconceived notions of what he was to find in the
western waters. He describes it in his diary as the loveliest island
they had yet seen; its thousands of trees "seemed to reach to Heaven."
Any one who had lived long in Spain, where trees are few and small, must
have taken great delight in the sight of a real forest, and so Columbus
wrote much on the beauties of Haiti. Scratch away with your pen, good
Admiral, and tell us about the trees, and the lovely nights that are
like May in Cordova, and the gold mine which the natives say is on the
island. Enjoy the spot while you may, for bitter days are coming when
its very name will sadden you. Could you but see into the unknown future
as clearly as you saw into the unknown west, you would hurry away from
lovely "little Spain" as fast as your rickety caravel would take you!
Troubles in plenty are awaiting you!
But the skillfulest mariner cannot know what to-morrow may bring forth.
How was even an "Admiral of the Ocean Seas" to know that when he went to
bed on Christmas Eve, his helmsman would soon sneak from his post and
hand the rudder to a little cabin-boy. The night was calm and warm, as
December generally is in those southern waters. The Admiral had been up
night and day when cruising along the Cuban coast, and now thought he
might safely take a few hours' repose. Few hours, indeed, for soon after
midnight he hears the cabin-boy screaming "danger!" A strong,
unsuspected current has carried the tiller out of his weak hands, and
the _Santa Maria_ is scraping on a sandy bottom. Instantly the
Admiral is on deck, and the disobedient helmsman is roused from his
sleep. At once Columbus sees that their only possible salvation is to
launch the ship's boat and lay out an anchor well astern; he orders the
helmsman and another sailor--for they are all rushing on deck now--to do
so. But the minute they touch water the frightened, contemptible
creatures row quickly away and ask the _Nina_ to take them aboard.
The _Santa Maria_ grates a little farther down into the sand bar
and swings sidewise. Columbus orders them to cut the mainmast away,
hoping to steady her some, but it proves useless; the ship's seams are
opening; the water is rushing in; they must abandon her to her fate. So
they all follow that cur of a helmsman and crowd on to the _Nina_.
Did ever a Christmas morning dawn more dismally?
The island of Haiti had several kings or caciques. The one who lived
near the Admiral's landing place had been extremely friendly to his
strange visitors, and when in the morning he saw their sad plight, he
sent all the people of the town out in large canoes to unload the ship.
He himself came down to the shore and took every precaution that the
goods should be brought safely to land and cared for. The next day,
Wednesday, December 26, the diary recorded:--
"At sunrise the king visited the Admiral on board the _Nina_ and
entreated him not to indulge in grief, for he would give him all he had;
that he had already assigned the wrecked Spaniards on shore two large
houses, and if necessary would grant others and as many canoes as could
be used in bringing the goods and crews to land--which in fact he had
been doing all the day before without the slightest trifle being
purloined."
Nor did his aid end here; when Columbus decided to build a fort and
storehouse out of the _Santa Maria's_ timbers, the natives helped
in that too.
In the fort it was decided to leave about forty men "with a provision of
bread and wine for more than a year, seed for planting, the long boat of
the ship, a calker, a carpenter, a gunner, and many other persons who
have earnestly desired to serve your Highnesses and oblige me by
remaining here and searching for the gold mine."
Columbus was, in short, planting the first settlement in the New World.
As the disaster had occurred on Christmas morning, he called the town
"La Navidad" (the Nativity). To govern it he left a trusty friend, Diego
de Arana, whose sister was little Fernando's mother. Columbus drew up a
few excellent rules for the conduct of his colonists, and made them a
wise address besides. Then he loaded a gun and fired it into the hull of
his stranded ship, just "to strike terror into the natives and make them
friendly to the Spaniards left behind." This done, he said good-by to
the colony, telling them how he hoped to find, on his return from
Castile, a ton of gold and spices collected by them in their trade with
the natives; and "in such abundance that before three years the king and
queen may undertake the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre."
On January 4, 1493, just a year after Columbus had been dismissed from
Granada for asking to be made Admiral and Viceroy of the undiscovered
lands in the west, he turned his back on those lands now discovered and
started home. Not, however, with three ships, for we have learned what
happened to the _Santa Maria_; not even with two ships, for we have
_not_ yet learned what happened to the _Pinta_, which Martin
Pinzon commanded. Martin had deserted a month before the shipwreck. Yes,
that good and capable navigator, who had helped so much to get the
expedition started, had struck off with his picked Palos men on a
different course, without asking leave from his Admiral. Nor was this
all; for according to the Journal, Martin had "by his language and
actions occasioned many other troubles." Columbus professes that
Pinzon's conduct mystified him. It was on November 21 that the
_Pinta_ started off. Columbus could not believe his eyes, he says.
Thinking that the ship must soon come back, all that night he "burned a
torch, because the night was clear and there was a nice little breeze by
which Martin could have come had he wished." But Martin did not wish. He
still had hopes, perhaps, of finding Cipango before returning to Spain.
And so, on January 4, when Columbus gave the pilot orders to set the
rudder for home, there was left only the smallest caravel of all, the
_Nina_. They kept on among the islands, frequently landing, and had
many more adventures before they struck the open sea. Always they asked
for gold, and sometimes they learned that it could be procured by
journeying "eastward," but more often, "west." In one place they had a
new experience--a shower of unfriendly arrows. In another island the
soil and trees so nearly corresponded to what Columbus and Pinzon had
read of Cipango that Columbus believed for a moment that he had reached
Martin's cherished goal; to be sure, there were no golden temples to be
seen, but Columbus, always hopeful, was willing to believe that these
lay farther inland, near the gold mines. Resolved to investigate on his
next voyage, he made accurate notes so as to find this same beautiful
harbor again. But the natives who gathered around explained, by signs,
that the island was small, and that there were no palaces or bridges.
While lingering here, the most remarkable thing happened; for another
European caravel led by another explorer entered! Of course it was the
_Pinta_ whose captain had been trying to find either Cipango or the
mainland. There was nothing for Martin to do but to appear friendly and
pretend that his ship had drifted away and got lost. Columbus accepted
the excuse, and both ships started direct for home. The last of the
Bahamas faded from sight that same day, January 16, and the two tiny
caravels were again the only moving objects on the vast, but no longer
unknown, Atlantic Ocean.
For nearly a month, that is, until February 13, the passage was calm and
monotonous; and as the _Pinta_ was in bad shape again every one was
relieved to find the weather so quiet; but on the 13th the wind rose and
rose till it lashed the sea into a fury. All day the sailors labored
with the angry waves that kept dashing over the decks; and all that
night the two lonely little ships kept signaling to each other until
they were swept too far apart. When day broke, the _Pinta_ was
nowhere to be seen and was sorrowfully given up for lost. But there was
no time to mourn; this day was even worse than yesterday, and the
Admiral and his sailors, after the custom of their time, made vows that
if only the Virgin would intercede with Heaven and save them, they would
make a pilgrimage to her shrine of Guadalupe, far north of Sevilla, or
go as penitents in procession to the first church they came to after
reaching land.
In spite of these appeals, the danger increased every minute, and we may
well imagine the agony of the little crew. The intrepid Columbus, who
had accomplished a marvelous thing, a feat which would stagger all
Europe, seemed destined to go down in mid-ocean with his great
discovery! Here was the _Pinta_ sunk and the _Nina_ likely to
follow her any minute! Europe would never know that land lay west of her
across the Atlantic! And all those timid, doubting men in Spain, who had
opposed the expedition from the very first, would shake their heads and
say, "Poor men, the sea monsters on the ocean's rim have gobbled them
up!" It must have taken every bit of heart out of the brave Admiral to
think that Spain would never know how gloriously he had succeeded.
Down into his dark cabin he went, and there, while the little
_Nina_ staggered and pitched on the mountainous waves, he steadied
his swinging lantern with one hand, and with the other hastily wrote on
a parchment what he had done. This he tied in waterproofed cloth, placed
it in a wooden cask, and threw it overboard. Then, for fear it might
never be washed ashore, he hurriedly prepared a second cask and lashed
it to the deck, hoping that the little caravel, even if he and all his
men perished, might toss about till it reached the Azores, which he
judged must be near. And sure enough, next morning land was in sight,
and the sailors shouted for joy though the storm still raged. It was not
until the 18th that the sea had subsided sufficiently for them to
approach the rocky coast. When finally they were able to cast anchor,
they found they were at Santa Maria, one of the Azores group.
The Azores, you will remember, were inhabited by Portuguese. Columbus,
knowing there would surely be a church there dedicated to the Virgin,
sent half the crew ashore to make the penitential procession they had
vowed; but this first boat load were promptly made prisoners by the
Portuguese. What a sad reward for religious men who were trying to keep
a vow! The governor of the island then ordered Columbus to come ashore
and be made prisoner also, which you may be sure he did not do. There
was much angry arguing back and forth, for Spain and Portugal were old
enemies; but finally the Portuguese governor dropped his high-
handedness, sent back the prisoners, and the poor storm-tossed little
_Nina_ bravely set out again to cover the many remaining miles
between her and Spain.
Even after all their hardships and their sorrow over the loss of their
friends on the _Pinta_, the unhappy mariners were not to be left in
peace. After a few days another violent storm beat against them and
buffeted them for days, while a terrific wind came and tore their sails
away. The poor little _Nina_, bare-poled, was now driven helpless
before the gale. And yet, marvelous to relate, she did not founder, but
kept afloat, and on the morning of March 4, sailors and Admiral saw land
not far away.
"The Madeiras!" cried some, just as they had cried before when off the
Azores.
"Spain!" cried others, more hopefully.
"The Rock of Cintra, near Lisbon!" cried their Admiral, whose power of
gauging distances, considering his lack of instruments, was little short
of marvelous. And Cintra it was. Again chance brought him to an
unfriendly coast, and gave him no choice but to run into the mouth of
the Portuguese river Tagus for shelter.
Like wildfire the report ran up and down the coast that a ship had just
returned across the Atlantic from the Indies (for the Spanish sailors
called the new islands the Indies of Antilla) and of course the ship was
full of treasure! In command of this ship was Christopher Columbus, the
very man whom King John of Portugal had refused to aid years before!
Hundreds of small boats surrounded the little caravel, and the curious
Portuguese clambered aboard and asked, among their many eager questions,
to be shown the treasures and "Los Indios." The commander of a
Portuguese man-of-war anchored near assumed a bullying attitude and
ordered Columbus to come aboard the warship and explain why he had dared
to cruise among Portugal's possessions. Columbus, more tactful than
usual, replied that, being now an Admiral of Spain, it was his duty to
remain on his vessel. Meanwhile, he dispatched a courier to the monarchs
of Spain with the great tidings; while from the king of Portugal he
begged permission to land, and sent word, _not_ that he had, as
people were saying, discovered an Atlantic route to the Indies, but that
he had sailed to the fabled islands of Antilla in the far Atlantic.
In answer, the king gave permission to land at Lisbon, and invited
Columbus to court. Columbus may not have wished to go there, but a royal
invitation was a command. On entering the king's presence, the great
explorer saw many of the noblemen who, years before, had advised their
monarch not to aid him. Our Admiral is not to be blamed, therefore, if
he took a deep delight in painting his new world in the rosiest colors
possible. His story made king and courtiers feel uncomfortably foolish
for not having been willing to take the risk Spain had taken. It was a
bitter pill for poor King John to swallow, and straightway his scheming
old brain began to hatch a pretext for getting the new lands for
himself.
"Pope Martin V.," he reminded his visitor, "conceded to the Crown of
Portugal all lands that might be discovered between Cape Bojador and the
Indies, and your new discovery therefore belongs to me rather than to
Spain."
"Quite right," murmured his courtiers. Then, when Columbus declared he
had sailed west and not south, that Spain herself had warned him to keep
clear of Portugal's possessions, and that the lands he had discovered
were merely Atlantic islands, they all insisted that "the Indies were
the Indies, and belonged by papal authority to Portugal!"
Oh, those shifting, indiscriminate, fifteenth-century Indies which
Europe invented to explain the unknown world! What misunderstandings
resulted from the vague term! Columbus, again tactful, stopped boasting
now, and merely observed that he had never heard of this papal treaty,
and that the monarchs would have to settle it between themselves. Then
he took his departure, with every show of kindliness from the king,
including a royal escort. The minute he was gone those courtly, crafty
heads all got together and told the king that most likely the man was
merely a boaster, but, lest he might have discovered territory for
Spain, why not hurriedly send out a Portuguese fleet to seize the new
islands ere Spain could make good her claim? Some even whispered
something about assassination.
Let us hope that King John turned a deaf ear to them. At any rate,
Columbus was not assassinated, perhaps because he thought it safer to
trust to his battered little _Nina_ than to cross Portugal by land.
Hurrying aboard, he hoisted anchor and started for Palos.
It was on a Friday that Columbus had left Palos; it was likewise on
Friday that he had left the Canaries after mending the _Pinta's_
rudder; on Friday he had taken leave of the little settlement of La
Navidad away back in Haiti, and now it was on Friday, the 15th of March,
that he dropped anchor in the friendly port of Palos.
For the astounded population it was as if the dead had come to life.
Every family whose relations had accompanied the expedition had given
the sailors up for lost; and lo! here was the man who had led them to
their death, bringing a caravel into port. True, forty of the men had
been left across the water, and as many more perhaps were under it. Only
one ship had come back; but it brought with it the amazing proof that
the Atlantic could be crossed! Shops were closed, everybody went to
church and rendered praise; bells pealed forth, and the "mad Genoese"
was the greatest hero that ever lived; then, as if to give the scene a
happy ending, just before sunset of that same famous day, the
_Pinta_, which had _not_ been shipwrecked off the Azores at
all, also sailed into the Rio Tinto. Thus did the punishment of Palos
end in her witnessing the greatest day of the fifteenth century.