SARAH KNOWLES BOLTON

 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS

 

MORE than four hundred years ago was born in Genoa, Italy, a boy who was destined to become famous the world over. Monuments to his memory are in very many of the great cities. Scores of books have been written about him, and now in 1893 the country which he discovered is doing him honor by the greatest exposition the world has ever seen.

Dominico Colombo, a wool-comber, and his wife Susannah Fontanarossa, the daughter of a wool-weaver, lived in a simple home in Genoa. They had five children,— Christoforo; Giovanni, who died young; Bartolomeo, called later Bartholomew, who never married; Giacomo, called in Spain, Diego; and one sister, Bianchinetta, who married a cheesemonger, Bavarello, and had one child.

Susannah, the mother, appears to have had a little property, but Domenico was always unsuccessful, and died poor and in debt, his sons in his later years sending him as much money as they were able to spare.

The weavers had schools of their own in Genoa; and the young Christopher learned at these the ordinary branches, — reading, writing, grammar, and arithmetic, with something of Latin and drawing. He seems to have been at the University of Pavia for a short time, where he studied geometry, geography, astronomy, and navigation, returning to his father’s house to help the family by wool-combing.

The boy was eager for the sea, and at fourteen started out upon his life of adventure on the Mediterranean, under a distant relative named Colombo. His first voyage of which we have an account, was in a naval expedition fitted out in 1459 by John of Anjou, with the aid of Genoa, against Naples, to recover it for his father, Duke René, Count of Provence.

This warfare lasted four years, and was unsuccessful. Nearly forty years later Columbus wrote concerning this struggle to the Spanish monarchs: “King René (whom God has taken to himself) sent me to Tunis to capture the galley Fernandina. Arriving at the island of San Pedro in Sardinia, I learned that there were two ships and a Caracca with the galley, which so alarmed the crew that they resolved to proceed no farther, but to go to Marseilles for another vessel and a larger crew, before which, being unable to force their inclinations, I apparently yielded to their wish, and, having first changed the points of the compass, spread all sail (for it was evening), and at daybreak we were within the Cape of Carthagena, when all believed for a certainty that we were nearing Marseilles.”

If Columbus was born in 1435, he was at this time twenty-four; a young man to be intrusted with such an enterprise.

These early years must have been full of danger and hardship. Piracy on the seas was common, and battles between the Italian republics almost constant. The young man learned to be fearless, to govern sailors well, and was full of the spirit of the age, — that of exploration and conquest.

Like most other men who have come to renown, Columbus was an ardent seeker after knowledge. He read everything obtainable about navigation, astronomy, and the discoveries which had been made at that time.

Portugal was showing herself foremost in all maritime enterprises. This activity has been attributed, says Irving, to a romantic incident of the fourteenth century, in the discovery of the Madeira Islands.

In the reign of Edward III of England (1327-1378) Robert Machin fell in love with a beautiful girl named Anne Dorset. She was of a proud family, which refused to allow her to marry Machin, who was arrested by order of the king, and she was obliged to marry a noble­man, who took her to his estate near Bristol.

Machin and his friends determined to rescue her from her hated wifehood. One of his companions became a groom in the nobleman’s household, ascertained that she still loved Robert, and planned with her an escape with him to France.

Riding out one day with the pretended groom, she was taken to a boat, and conveyed to a vessel, in which the lovers put out to sea. They sailed along the coast past Cornwall, when a storm arose, and they were driven out of sight of land.

For thirteen days they were tossed about on the ocean, and on the morning of the fourteenth day they came upon a beautiful island. The young wife, overcome by fear and remorse, had already become alarmingly ill. Machin carried her to the island, where he constructed a bower for her under a great tree, and brought her fruits and flowers.

The crew stayed on the vessel to guard it till the party should return. A severe storm came up, and the ship was driven off the coast and disappeared. Anne now reproached herself as being the cause of all this disaster; for three days she was speechless, dying without uttering a word.

Machin was prostrated with grief and distress, that he had brought her to a lonely island, away from home and friends, to die. He died five days later, and at his own request was buried by her side at the foot of a rustic altar which he had erected under the great tree.

His companions repaired the boat in which they had come to shore, and started upon the great ocean, hoping, almost in vain, to reach England. They were tossed about by the winds, and finally dashed upon the rocks on the coast of Morocco, where they were put in prison by the Moors. Here they learned that their ship had shared the same fate.

The English prisoners met in prison an experienced pilot, Juan de Morales, a Spaniard of Seville. He listened with the greatest interest to their story, and on his release communicated the circumstances to Prince Henry of Portugal.

This prince was the son of John the First, surnamed the Avenger, and Philippa of Lancaster, sister of Henry IV of England. After Prince Henry had helped his father in 1415 to conquer Ceuta opposite the rock of Gibraltar, and to drive the Moors into the mountains, he determined to give up war and devote himself to discovery, even though on account of his bravery he was asked by the Pope, Henry V. of England, John II. of Castile, and the Emperor Sigismund, to lead their armies.

He made his home on the lonely promontory of Sagres, in the south-western part of Portugal, built an astronomical observatory, invited to his home the most learned men of the time in naval matters, and lived the life of a scholar. He spent all his fortune, and indeed became involved in debt, in fitting out expeditions to the coast of Africa, hoping to find a southern passage to the wealth of the Indies, and to convert the barbarians to Christianity. His motto was, “Talent de bien faire ’’ (Desire to do well, or the talent to do well).

Prince Henry’s first success was the rediscovery of Madeira in 1418, where Robert Machin and Anne were buried over seventy years before. The island of Porto Santo, near Madeira, of which we shall hear more by and by, was discovered about this time by Bartholomew Perestrelo, who placed a rabbit with her little ones on the island. Years afterward these had so multiplied that they had devoured nearly every green thing on the island; so much so, says Mr. Fiske, that Prince Henry's enemies, angered that he spent so much money in expeditions, declared that “God had evidently created those islands for beasts alone, not for men!”

Through the enterprise of Prince Henry. Cape Bojador, on the western coast of Africa, was doubled in 1434 by Gil Eannes. Heretofore it had been believed that if anybody ventured so near the torrid zone, he would never come back alive, on account of the dreadful heat and boisterous waves at that point.

The coast was soon explored from Cape Blanco to Cape Verde. In 1160 Diego Gomez discovered the Cape Verde Islands, and two years later Pedro de Cintra reached Sierra Leone. In 1484 Diego Cam went as far as the mouth of the Congo, and the following year a thousand miles farther; and while the Portuguese took back hundreds of negro slaves to be sold, they sent missionaries to teach the blacks the true faith.

Prince Henry had died Nov. 13, 1460, so that he did not live to see Africa circumnavigated by Bartholomew Diaz or Vasco da Gama.

The then known world talked about these expeditions of Portugal; therefore it was not strange that Columbus, thirty-five years old, should make his way to Lisbon, about the year 1470. His younger brother, Bartholomew, was already living in Lisbon, making, maps and globes with great skill. Columbus is described at that time as tall and of exceedingly fine figure, suave, yet dignified in manners, with fair complexion, eyes blue and full of expression, hair light, but at thirty white as snow He had the air of one born to be a leader, while he won friends by his frankness and cordiality.

In Lisbon, Columbus attended services at the chapel of the Convent of All Saints. One of the ladies of rank, who either boarded at the monastery, or had some official connection with it, was so pleased with the evident devotion of the young stranger, that she sought his acquaintance, and married him in 1473. She was his superior in position though without much fortune,—the daughter of the Bartholomew Perestrelo who, having discovered the island of Porto Santo, was made its governor by Prince Henry. Perestrelo had died sixteen years previously, leaving a widow, Isabella Moñiz, and an attractive daughter, Philippa, the bride of Columbus. Some historians think she was not a daughter, but a near relative.

The newly wedded couple went to Porto Santo to live with the mother, who naturally gave Columbus all the charts, maps, and journals of his father-in-law. These he carefully studied, becoming familiar with the voyages made by the Portuguese. When he was not in service on the ocean, he earned money as before by making maps and charts, sending some funds to his impecunious father, and helping to educate his younger brother.

His wife’s sister had married Pedro Correo, a naviga­tor of some prominence, and the two men must have talked of possible discoveries with intense interest.

Columbus, after much study, believed that there was land to the westward of Spain and Portugal. If the earth were a globe or sphere, then somewhere between Portugal and Asia it was natural to suppose that there was a large body of land. lie had read in Aristotle, Seneca, and Pliny, that one might pass from Spain to India in a few days; he had also read of wood and other articles floating from the westward to the islands, near the known continent.

Martin Vicenti, a pilot in the service of the King of Portugal, had found a piece of carved wood four hundred and fifty leagues to the west of Cape St. Vincent. The inhabitants of the Azores had seen trunks of pine-trees cast upon their shores, and the bodies of two men unlike any known race.

So deeply was Columbus impressed with the probability of a western world, or rather that the eastern coast of Asia stretched far towards the west, that he wrote a letter to the learned astronomer, Paolo del Pozzio dei Toscanelli of Florence, in 1474, asking for his opinion upon the subject. The astronomer had already written a letter on the same matter to Alfonso V, King of Portugal, and copied this letter for Columbus, sending him also a chart showing what he believed to be the position of the Atlantic Ocean (called the Sea of Darkness), with Europe on the east, and Cathay (China) on the west.

Toscanelli had read Marco Polo’s book, and he wrote to Columbus concerning the wonderful Cathay where the great Khan lived, and where there was much gold and silver and spices, and a splendid island, Cipango (Japan), where “they cover the temples and palaces with solid gold”.^-To reach these one must sail steadily westward.

Toscanelli estimated the circumference of the earth at about the correct figure, but thought the distance from Lisbon to Quinsay (Hang-chow, China), westward, to be about six thousand five hundred miles, supposing that Asia covered nearly the whole width of the Pacific Ocean.

When Columbus had sailed about one-third of the way, thought Toscanelli, he would come to “Antilia,” or the Seven Islands, where seven Spanish bishops, driven out of Spain when the Moors captured it, had built seven splendid cities. Below these he placed on his map the island of “St Brandon,” where a Scotch priest of that name had landed in the sixth century. None of these fabled islands was ever found. Columbus took this chart of Toscanelli’s with him when he sailed for the New World. The aged astronomer had encouraged Columbus to persevere in a voyage “fraught with honor as it must be, and inestimable gain, and most lofty fame among all Christian people.... When that voyage shall be accomplished, it will be a voyage to powerful kingdoms, and to cities and provinces most wealthy and noble, abounding in all things most desired by us,” How literally has this come true, though Toscanelli saw only China in the distance! He died in 1482, ten years before Columbus was able to make the long-desired voyage.

Columbus, if he had not read it before, now obtained the book of Marco Polo, published in a Latin translation in 1485, a copy of which is now in the Biblioteca Colombina in Seville, with marginal notes believed to be in the handwriting of Columbus. He also read carefully, as the margin is nearly covered with his notes, “Imago Mundi,” published in 1410 by Cardinal Pierre d’Ailly, Bishop of Cambrai, or more generally known as Peter Alliacus. He copied largely from Boger Bacon, who had collated the writings of ancient authors to prove that the distance from Spain to Asia could not be very great.

Columbus believed that to reach Japan he would need to sail only about two thousand five hundred miles from the Canaries. Happy error 1 for where would he have found men willing to undertake a journey of twelve thousand miles across an untried ocean? Columbus was eager to make the voyage, but he was poor, comparatively unknown, and how could it be accomplished? It is said that he sought aid for his enterprise from his native land, Genoa, but it was not given. King Alfonso was engaged in a war with Spain, and therefore too busy to think of explorations.

In 1481 John II, then twenty-five years old, came to the throne of Portugal, and he had the same ambitions as his grand-uncle, Prince Henry. He knew of Marco Polo’s account of Cathay, and he longed to make Portugal more famous by her discoveries. He called men of science to his aid, the celebrated Martin Behaim and others, the latter having invented an improved astrolobe enabling seamen to find their distance from the equator by the altitude of the sun.

Behaim was a friend of Columbus; and, whether through his influence or not, the latter was encouraged to lay his westward scheme before John II. The king listened with attention, but feared the expense of fitting out the ships, as the African expeditions had already cost so much. Columbus, having great faith in his discoveries, asked for his family titles and rewards that the king was as yet unwilling to grant. The latter, however, referred the proposition to two distinguished cosmographers, and to his confessor, the Bishop of Ceuta.

The latter opposed the spending of more money in voyages, which he said “tended to distract the attention, drain the resources, and divide the power of the nation. The war in which the king was engaged with the Moors of Barbary was sufficient employment for the active valor of the nation”, the bishop said. The bishop was opposed by Don Pedro de Meneses, Count of Villa Beal, who said that “although a soldier, he dared to prognosticate, with a voice and spirit as if from heaven, to whatever prince should achieve this enterprise, more happy success and durable renown than had ever been obtained by sovereign the most valorous and fortunate.”

King John could not bear to give up the enterprise entirely, as, if great achievements should be lost to Portugal, he would never forgive himself. An under­ handed measure was therefore adopted. The plans of Columbus for this proposed voyage were laid before the king, and a caravel was privately sent over the route to see if some islands could not be discovered that might make the westward passage to Cathay probable. Storms arose, and the pilots, seeing only a broad and turbulent ocean, came back and reported this scheme visionary and absurd. Columbus soon learned of the deceit, and betook himself to Spain in 1485, taking with him his little son Diego, born in Porto Santo, he left him at Huelva, near Palos, with the youngest sister of his wife, who had married a man named Muliar.

Authorities differ about all the early incidents of Columbus’ life before he became noted ; but this disposition of the son seems probable, and that he lived with her while his father for seven long years besought crowns in vain to aid him in his grand discoveries.

Portugal lost forever the glory she might have won. Columbus wrote later: “I went to make my offer to Portugal, whose king was more versed in discovery than any other. The Lord bound up his sight and all the senses, so that in fourteen years I could not bring him to heed what I said.”

His wife, with one child or perhaps two, was necessarily left behind in Portugal, where she died soon after. Some historians think he deserted her, but this is scarcely possible, as under such circumstances her sister would not have been willing to keep the child of Columbus for seven years, neither would his wife’s relations have remained his friends, coming to see him in Portugal just after he had started on his fourth voyage, and probably many times previously.

Columbus departed secretly from Portugal, it is supposed much in debt through commercial or nautical transactions, as years later King John invited him to return, assuring him that he would not be arrested on any matters pending against him.

For many months in Spain, Columbus probably sup, ported himself by selling maps and printed books, which Harrisse thinks contained calendars and astronomical predictions. Yet there was ever before him the one purpose of the westward voyage. He naturally made friends among distinguished people on account of his intelligence and charm of manner, and he used all these opportunities to further his one object.

In January, 1486, he seems to have entered the service of Ferdinand and Isabella, as his journal shows. About this time he made the acquaintance of Alonso de Quin­tanilla, the comptroller of the finances of Castile, and was a guest at his house at Cordova, and with Alexander Geraldini, the tutor of the royal children, and bis brother Antonio, the papal nuncio. These friends, who became interested in the alert mind and far-reaching plans of the navigator, led to an acquaintance with Pedro Gonzales de Mendoza, Archbishop of Toledo and Grand Cardinal of Spain. He, of course, had great influence with the sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, and helped to prepare their minds for a kindly reception of the projects of Co­lumbus.

These monarchs were too busy conquering the Moors to give the plan much consideration; but Columbus went before Ferdinand, and with the earnestness born of con­viction, explained his wishes.

Ferdinand and Isabella ruled jointly over Aragon and Castile, but while their names were stamped together on the public coins, they had separate councils, and were often in separate parts of the country, governing their respective kingdoms.

Ferdinand was of good physique, with chestnut-colored hair, animated in countenance, quick of speech, and a tireless worker.

Irving says he was “cold, selfish, and artful. He was called the wise and prudent in Spain; in Italy, the pious; in France and England, the ambitious and perfidious. He certainly was one of the most subtle states­men, but one of the most thorough egotists, that ever sat upon a throne.”

Winsor says “his smiles and remorseless coldness were mixed as few could mix them even in those days.... He was enterprising in his actions, as the Moors and heretics found out. He did not extort money, he only extorted agonized confessions.”

Castelar says “he joined the strength of the lion to the instincts of the fox. Perchance in all history there has not been his equal in energy and craftiness. He was distrustful above all else ; ... he scrupled little to resort to dissimulation, deceit, and, in case of necessity, crime.” Isabella, Castelar, calls, the foremost and most saintly queen of Christendom.”

Irving thinks Isabella “one of the purest and most beautiful characters in the pages of history. She was well formed, of the middle size, with great dignity and gracefulness of deportment, and a mingled gravity and sweetness of demeanor. Her complexion was fair; her hair auburn, inclining to red; her eyes were of a clear blue, with a benign expression, and there was a singular modesty in her countenance, gracing, as it did, a wonderful firmness of purpose and earnestness of spirit. Though strongly attached to her husband, and studious of his fame, yet she always maintained her distinct rights as an allied prince. She exceeded him in beauty, in per­sonal dignity, in acuteness of genius, and in grandeur of soul....

“She strenuously opposed the expulsion of the Jews and the establishment of the Inquisition, though, unfortunately for Spain, her repugnance was slowly vanquished by her confessor. She was always an advocate for clemency to the Moors, although she was the soul of the war against Granada. She considered that war essential to protect the Christian faith, and to relieve her subjects from fierce and formidable enemies. While all her public thoughts and acts were princely and august, her private habits were simple, frugal, and unostentatious.

“In the intervals of state-business she assembled round her the ablest men in literature and science, and directed herself by their councils, in promoting letters and arts. Through her patronage Salamanca rose to that height which it assumed among the learned institutions of the age.”

Isabella was not less brave in war than she was statesmanlike in peace. Several complete suits of armor, which she wore in her campaigns, are preserved in the royal arsenal at Madrid.

Ferdinand referred the proposed expedition of Columbus to Isabella's confessor, Fernando de Talavera, one of the most learned men of Spain, who in turn laid it before a junto of distinguished men, some of them from the University of Salamanca.

The meeting was held in the convent of St. Stephen, where Columbus was entertained during the examination. It must have been a time of the greatest anxiety, yet brightened by hope. He stated the case with his usual dignity and firm belief.

To the majority of the junto such a plan seemed sacrilegious. Some quoted from the early theological writers : “Is there any one so foolish as to believe that there are antipodes with their feet opposite to ours; people who walk with their heels upward, and their heads hanging down? That there is a part of the world in which all things are topsy-turvy; where the trees grow with their branches downward, and where it rains, hails, and snows upward? ”

They opposed texts of Scripture to the earth being a sphere, and showed from St. Augustine that if there were people on the other side of a globe, they could not be descended from Adam, as the Bible stated, because they could not have crossed the intervening ocean.

Others said that if Columbus sailed, and reached India, he could never get back, for, the globe being round, the waters would rise in a mountain, up which it would be impossible to sail. Others, with more wisdom, said that the earth was so large that it would take three years to sail around it, and that provisions could not be taken for so long a voyage.

Columbus maintained that the inspired writers were not speaking as cosmographers, and that the early fathers were not necessarily philosophers or scientists, and he quoted from the Bible verses which he believed pointed to the sublime discovery which he proposed. Diego de Deza, a learned friar, afterwards Archbishop of Seville, the second ecclesiastical dignitary of Spain, was won by the arguments of Columbus, and became an earnest co-worker. Other conferences took place, but nothing decisive was accomplished.

When the monarchs were in some protracted siege for several months, like that at Malaga, Columbus would be summoned to a conference; but, for one reason or another, it would be postponed. “Often in these campaigns,” says an old chronicler, “Columbus was found fighting, giving proofs oh the distinguished valor which accompanied his wisdom and his lofty desires.”

Whenever Columbus was summoned to follow the court, he was attached to the royal suite, and his expenses provided for. During the intervals he supported himself as before by his maps and charts. He was constantly ridiculed as a dreamer, “so that it is said the children in the streets made fun of him. “He went about so ill-clad,” says Castelar, “ that he was named the Stranger with the Threadbare Cloak.”

In the midst of all these delays and bitterness of soul and exposures in war, Columbus, when he was not far from fifty years old, fell in love with a beautiful young woman, Beatrix Enriquez Arana, of a noble family, but reduced in fortune. Her brother was the intimate friend of Columbus. In 1488, Aug. 15, a son Ferdinand was born to Beatrix and Columbus, who became in after years a noted student and book col­lector, the biographer of his father, and the owner of a library of over twenty thousand volumes, bought in all the principal book marts of Europe. Ferdinand left money to the Cathedral of Seville, for the care of this library; but for some centuries it was neglected, even children, it is said, being allowed to roam in the halls, and destroy the valuable treasures.

Columbus seems to have been tenderly attached to Beatrix as long as he lived, and provided for her in his will, at his death, enjoining his son Diego to care for her. She survived Columbus many years, he dying in 1506; and Mr. Winsor thinks she unquestionably survived the making of Diego’s will in 1523, seventeen years after his father’s death.

Among the noted personages whom Columbus tried to interest in his plans, either when he first came to Spain, as Irving and Castelar think, or some years later, according to Harrisse, Winsor, Fiske, and others, were the rich and powerful dukes, Medina-Sidonia and Medinaceli. These had great estates along the seacoast, and owned ships of their own. The former was at first interested, but finally refused to assist.

The latter, Luis de la Cerda, made sovereign of the Canaries by Pope Clement VI, with the title of Prince of Fortune, took Columbus to his own elegant castle and made it his home for two years. He was a learned man, and he and Columbus studied the stars and navigation together. He was desirous of fitting out some vessels for the enterprise of Columbus; but fearing that the monarchs would oppose such a work by a private individual, he remained inactive. Finally Columbus determined to appeal to the King of France for aid—he had already sent Bartholomew, his brother, to Henry VII of England, to ask his help ; but Bartholomew was captured by pirates, and was not heard from for some years.

Medinaceli, fearing that some other country would win the renown of a great discovery which he felt sure Columbus would make, wrote an urgent letter to the monarchs, offering to fit out two or three caravels for Columbus, and have a share in the profits of the voyage; but Isabella refused, saying that she had not decided about the matter.

Columbus was growing heart-sick with his weary waiting. The city of Baza, besieged for more than six months, had surrendered Dec. 22, 1189, to Spain, Muley Boabdil, the elder of the.two rival kings of Granada, giving up all his possessions, and Ferdinand and Isabella had entered Seville in triumph in February of 1490. Great rejoicing soon followed over the marriage of their daughter, Princess Isabella, with the heir to the throne of Portugal, Don Alonzo.

As the summer passed Columbus heard that the mon­archs were to proceed against the younger Moorish king. He had become impatient with this constant procrastination, and had pressed the sovereigns for a decision. He was fifty-five years old, and life was slipping by, with nothing accomplished. Talavera, who cared for little except to see the Moors conquered, finally presented the matter before another junto, who decided that the plan was vain and impossible.

But the sovereigns, not quite willing to let a possible achievement slip from their grasp, sent word to Columbus that when the war was over they would gladly take up the matter, and give it careful attention. Columbus determined to hear from their own lips that for which he had waited nearly seven long years in useless hope, and repaired at once to Seville. The reply was as before, and, poor, and growing old, lie turned his back upon Spain to seek the assistance of France.

He went to Huelva for his boy, Diego, possibly to leave him with Beatrix and the child Ferdinand, then three years old; and when about half a league from Palos, stopped at the convent of La Rabida, dedicated to Santa Maria de Rabida. It belonged to the Franciscan friars, a lonely place on a height above the ocean.

Columbus was walking—he had no money to pay for travelling—was leading his boy by the hand, and stopped to ask for some bread and water for his child. The friar of the convent, Juan Perez, happening to pass by, was struck by the appearance of the white-haired man, and entered into conversation with him. Juan Perez was a man of much information, had been confessor to the queen, and was deeply interested in the plans of Columbus. He asked him to remain as his guest at the convent, and sent for his friend, Garcia Fernandez, a physician of Palos, and a well-read man, and Martin Alonzo Pinzon, a wealthy navigator, to talk with this stranger. Pinzon at once offered to help furnish money and to go in person on the hazardous voyage.

Perez, loyal to Isabella, felt that France ought not to win such honor, when it lay at the very door of Spain. He proposed to write to Isabella at once; and Colum­bus, with probably but little hope at this late day, consented to remain until an answer was received from her.

Sebastian Rodriguez, a pilot of Lepe, and a man of some note, was chosen to bear the precious letter. He found access to the queen, who wrote a letter to Juan Perez, thanking him for his timely message, and asking that he come immediately to court.

At the end of fourteen days Rodriguez returned, and the little company at the convent rejoiced with renewed hopes. The good friar saddled his mule, and before midnight was on his way to Santa Fe, the military city where the queen was stationed while pressing the siege of Granada.

The letter of Medinaceli had influenced her; and her best friend and companion, the Marchioness Moya, a woman of superior ability, was urging her to aid Colum­bus and thus bring great renown to herself and to Spain.

Juan Perez pressed his suit warmly, with the result that Isabella sent Columbus twenty thousand maravedis (Mr. Fiske says one thousand, one hundred and eighty dollars of our money) to buy proper clothing to appear at court, and to provide himself with a mule for the journey.

Bidding goodbye to the rejoicing company at La Rabida, Columbus, accompanied by Juan Perez, started early in December, 1491, on their mules, for the royal camp at Santa Fé.

Alonso de Quintanilla, his former friend, the accountant-general, received Columbus cordially, and provided for his entertainment. The queen could not receive him just then; for Boabdil, the last of the Moorish kings, was about to surrender Granada, which he did January 2, 1492, giving up the keys of the gorgeous Alhambra to the Spanish sovereigns.

At the surrender Ferdinand was dressed in his royal robes, his crimson mantle lined with ermine, and his plumed cap radiant with jewels, while about him were brilliantly clad officials on their richly caparisoned horses. Boabdil wore black, as befitting his sad defeat. He attempted to dismount and kneel before Ferdinand; but this the latter would not permit, so he imprinted a kiss upon Ferdinand's right arm.

After having surrendered the two great keys of the city, Boabdil said to the knight who was to rule over Granada, Iñigo Lopez de Mendoza, taking from his own finger a gold ring set with a precious jewel, and handing it to Mendoza, “With this signet has Granada been governed. Take it, that you may rule the land; and may Allah prosper your power more than he hath prospered mine.”

After this Boabdil met the queen in royal attire seated upon her horse, her son, Prince Juan, in the richest garments on horseback at her right, and the princess and ladies of her court at her left. Here Boabdil knelt before the queen. His first-born had been kept by his enemies as a hostage, and he was there returned to his father.

“Hitherto,” says Castelar, “ Boabdil had shed no tear, but now, on beholding again the son of Moraima, his beloved, he pressed his face against the face of the poor child and wept passionately of the abundance of his heart.”

The time had come for Columbus to meet Isabella. When in her presence he stipulated that if the voyage were undertaken, he should be made admiral and viceroy over the countries discovered, and receive the tenth part of the revenues from the lands, either by trade or conquest. The conditions were not harder than those of subsequent voyagers, but to the courtiers and to Talavera such demands made by a threadbare navigator seemed absurd. Talavera represented to Isabella that it would be degrading so to exalt an ordinary man and, as he thought, an adventurer.

More moderate terms were offered Columbus, but he declined them ; and, more sick at heart than ever, lie mounted his mule, in the beginning of February, 1492, and turned back to Cordova and La Rabida, on his way to France.

Alonso de Quintanilla, and Luis de Santangel, receiver of the ecclesiastical revenues in Aragon, were distressed beyond measure at this termination of the meeting. They rushed into the queen’s presence and eloquently besought her to reconsider the matter, reminding her how much she could do for the glory of God and the renown of Spain by some grand discoveries. The Marchioness Moya, Beatrix de Bobadilla, added all the fervor of her nature to the request.

Ferdinand looked coldly upon the project. The treasury of the country was exhausted by the late wars. Finally, with her woman’s heart responsive to heroic deeds, and a far-sightedness beyond that of the doubting Ferdinand, she said, “I undertake the enterprise for my own crown of Castile, and will pledge my jewels to raise the necessary funds.’’

“This,’’ truly says Irving, “was the proudest moment in the life of Isabella; it stamped her renown forever as the patroness of the discovery of the New World.”

Isabella did not have to part with her jewels, as the funds were raised by Santangel from his private revenues, and it is now generally believed that no help was given by Ferdinand. It is quite probable that the queen pledged her jewels as security for the loan by Santangel.

A courier was sent in all haste after Columbus, who was found about six miles out of Granada, crossing the bridge of Finos. When he was told that the queen wished to see him, he hesitated for a moment, lest the old disappointment should be in store for him ; but when it was asserted that she had given a positive promise to undertake the enterprise, he turned his mule toward Santa Fe, and hastened back joyfully to Isabella’s presence.

The queen received him with great benignity, and granted all the concessions he had asked. He, at his own suggestion, by the assistance of the Pinzons of Palos, was to bear one-eighth of the expense, which he did later. The papers were signed at Santa Fé April 17, 1492, and on May 12 (his son Diego having been four days previously appointed page to the prince-apparent) he set out joyfully for Palos to prepare for the long-hoped-for voyage.

On arriving at Palos he went immediately to the convent of La Rabida, and he and Juan Perez rejoiced together. On the morning of May 23 the two proceeded to the church of St. George in Palos, where many of the leading people had been notified to be present, and there gave the royal order by which two caravels or barks, with their crews, were to be ready for sea in ten days, Palos, for some misdemeanor, having been required to furnish two armed caravels to the crown for one year. A certificate of good conduct from Columbus was considered a discharge of obligation to the monarchs. To any person willing to engage in the expedition, all criminal processes against them or their property were to be suspended during absence.

When it was known that the vessels were to go on an untried ocean, perhaps never to return, the men were filled with terror and refused to obey the royal decree. Weeks passed and nothing was accomplished. Mobs gathered as men were pressed into the service.

Finally, through the influence of the Pinzons, and more royal commands, the three vessels were made ready. The largest, which was decked, called the Santa Maria, belonged to Juan de la Cosa, who now commanded her, with Sancho Luiz and Pedro Alonzo Nino for his pilots. She was ninety feet long by twenty feet broad, and was the Admiral's flag-ship.

The other open vessels were the Pinta, commanded by Martin Alonzo Pinzon, with his brother, Francisco Martin Pinzon, as pilot, and the Niña, commanded by another brother, Vicente Yañez Pinzon. On board the three ships were one hundred and twenty persons according to Irving, but according to Ferdinand, the son of Columbus, and Las Casas, ninety persons.

Isabella paid towards this equipment 1,140,000 maravedis, probably equal to about $67,500; while Columbus raised 500,000 maravedis, or $29,500.

The vessels being ready for sea, Columbus, his officers, and crews partook of the sacrament, and made confession to Friar Juan Perez, and on Friday — this was considered a lucky day, as Granada was taken on Friday, and the first crusade under Godfrey of Bouillon had taken Jerusalem on the same day — Aug. 3, 1492, half an hour before sunrise, with many tears and lamentations, they sailed away from Palos toward an unknown land. A deep gloom came over the people of Palos, for they never expected to see their loved ones again. For three hours Perez and his friends watched the fading sails till they disappeared from sight.

On the third day at sea the rudder of the Pinta was found to be broken, and Columbus surmised that it had happened purposely, as the owners of the boat, Gomez Rascon and Christoval Quintero, were on board, and having been pressed into service against their will, were glad of any excuse to turn back.

By care she was taken on Aug. 9 as far as the Canary Islands, where Columbus hoped to replace her by another vessel; but after three weeks, and no prospect of another ship, they were obliged to make a new rudder for the Pinta and go forward.

On the 6th of September, early in the morning, they sailed away from the island of Gomera, and were soon out of sight of land. The hearts of the seamen now failed them, and rugged sailors wept like children. The admiral tried to comfort them with the prospect of gold and precious stones in India and Cathay, enough to make them all rich.

Seeing their terror as well as real sorrow at being alone on the ocean, he deceived them as to the distance from their homes, by keeping two reckonings,—one cor­rect for himself, one false for them. The sailors were constantly anxious and distrustful. They were alarmed when they saw the peak of Teneriffe in the Canaries in eruption, and now the deflection of the compass-needle away from the pole-star made them sure that the very laws of nature were being changed on this wild and unknown waste of waters.

On Sept. 16 they sailed into vast masses of seaweeds, abounding in fish and crabs. They were eight hundred miles from the Canaries, in the Sargasso Sea, which was two thousand fathoms or more than two miles in depth. They feared they should be stranded, and could be convinced to the contrary only when their lines were thrown into the sea and failed to touch bottom.

Almost daily they thought they saw land ; now it was a mirage at sunrise or sunset; now two pelicans came on board, and these Columbus felt sure did not go over twenty leagues from land; now they caught a bird with feet like a sea-fowl, and were certain that it was a river­bird; now singing land birds, as they thought, hovered about the ship.

They began to grow restless so often were they disappointed. They were borne westward by the trade winds, and they feared that the wind would always prevail from the east, so that they would never get back to Spain.

They finally began to murmur against Columbus, that he was an Italian, and did not care for Spaniards; and they talked among themselves of an easy way to be rid of him by the single thrust of a poniard. Columbus knew of their mutinous spirit, and sometimes soothed and sometimes threatened them with punishment.

On Sept. 25 Martin Alonzo Pinzon thought he beheld land to the south-west, and, mounting on the stern of his vessel, cried, “Land! Land! Señor, I claim my reward! The sovereign had offered a prize of ten thousand maravedis to the one who should first discover land.

Columbus threw himself upon his knees and gave thanks to God and Martin repeated the Gloria in excelsis, in which all the crew joined. Morning put an end to their vision of land, and they sailed on as before, ever farther from home and friends.

So many times the crew thought they discerned land and gave a false alarm, afterwards growing more discontented, that Columbus declared that all such should forfeit their claim to the award, unless land were discovered in three clays.

On the morning of Oct. 7 the crew of the Niña were sure they saw land, hoisted the flag at her mast­head, and discharged a gun, the preconcerted signals, but they soon found that they had deceived themselves.

The crews now became dejected. They had come 2.724 miles from the Canaries, and this was farther than Columbus had supposed Cipango (Japan) to be. He determined therefore to sail west south-west, instead of clue west. If be had kept on his course he would have touched Florida. Field birds came flying about the ships, and a heron, a pelican, and a duck were seen; but the sailors murmured more and more, and insisted upon his turning homeward, and giving up a useless voyage.

He endeavored to pacify at first, and then he told them, happen what might, he should press on to the Indies.

The next day the indications of land grew stronger; a green fish of a kind which lives on rocks was seen, a branch of hawthorn with berries on it, and a staff arti­ficially carved. Not an eye was closed that night, Columbus having promised a doublet of velvet in addition to the prize offered by the sovereigns to the first discoverer of land. As evening came on Columbus took his position on the foremost part of his vessel, and watched intently. About ten o’clock he thought he saw a light in the distance, and called to Pedro Gutierrez chamberlain in the king’s service, who confirmed it. He then called Rodrigo Sanchez, but by that time the light had disappeared. Once or twice afterward they saw it as though some person were carrying it on shore or in a boat, tossed by waves.

At two in the morning on Friday of Oct. 12 the Pinta, which sailed faster than the other ships, descried the land two leagues away. Rodrigo de Triana of Seville first saw it; but the award was given to Columbus, as he had first seen the light.

A thrill of joy and thanksgiving ran through every heart. Columbus hastily threw his scarlet cloak about him, and with one hand grasping his sword and the other the cross, standing beneath the royal banner, gold embroidered with F. and Y. on either side, the initials of Ferdinand and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns, he and his followers put out to shore in a little boat. As soon as he landed he knelt on the earth, kissed it, and gave thanks to God with tears, all joining him in the Te Deum.

His men gathered about him, embraced him while they wept, begged his forgiveness for their mutinous spirit, and promised obedience in the future.

The naked natives, filled with awe at these beings in armor, whom they supposed had come from heaven. —alas! that they should have been so pitifully deceived, — fled to the woods at first, but soon came close to the Spaniards, felt of their white beards, touched their white skin, so unlike their own, and were as gentle as children. When a sword was shown them, they innocently took it by the edge. They received eagerly the bells and red caps which Columbus offered them, and gave cakes of bread, called cassava, parrots, and cotton yarn in ex­change.

The island upon which Columbus probably landed was called by the natives Guanahani, now San Salvador, one of the Bahama group. It has never been fully settled upon which of the group Columbus landed, many believing it to have been Watling's Island.

Columbus was amazed at the canoes of the people, a single tree trunk being hollowed out sufficiently to hold forty or forty-five men. He wrote in his journal: “Some brought us water; others things to eat; others, when they saw that I went not ashore, leaped into the sea, swimming, and came, and, as we supposed, asked us if we were come from heaven; and then came an old man into the boat, and all men and women, in a loud voice cried. Come and see the men who came from heaven ; bring them food and drink.”

The people had some bits of gold about them, in their noses and elsewhere; and as gold was ever the dream of the Spanish discoverer, they were eagerly questioned as to where the precious metal was to be obtained. Columbus understood them to say farther south, so while he believed he had touched the Indies, he must go still farther for the wonderful Cipango.

He seized seven Indians and took them on board to learn the Spanish language and become interpreters. Two of them soon escaped, as they naturally loved their homes and their people.

Columbus has been severely censured for his course towards the Indians, then and later: but it is becoming in us Americans to deal leniently with the early discoverers, when we remember how a Christian nation has treated the Indians through four centuries. The blame cannot be put entirely upon Indian agents; our people have shown the same eager desires for their land as the Spaniards. We have forgotten to keep our promises, and these things have been permitted by those in exalted official position.

After having investigated the island upon which he landed, Columbus reached another island Oct. 15, which he called Santa Maria de la Conception, and on Oct. 16 another, which he called Fernandina. The little houses of the people were neat. They used hamacs for beds, nets hung from posts; hence our word hammocks. They had dogs which could not bark. Columbus named the next island which he found Isabella, and then, Oct. 28, reached Cuba, where he hoped, from the half-understood natives, that gold would be obtained in abundance. He found luxuriant vegetation, brilliant birds and flowers, fish which rivalled the birds in color, a beautiful river, a country where “one could live forever,” he said. “It is the most beautiful island that eyes ever beheld, full of excellent ports and profound rivers.” The tropical nights filled him with admiration. Nothing was wanting to the scene but the great Kublai Khan of Cathay with his enormous wealth described by Marco Polo, and the gold for which the Spaniards agonized, as a proof to their sovereign that they had found the westward passage to Asia.

Imagining that a great king must live in the centre of the island, Columbus sent two Spaniards, Rodrigo de Jerez and Luis de Torres, a converted Jew who knew Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Arabic, with two Indians as guides to the supposed monarch. They took presents to this king, and started on their will-o’-the-wisp journey.

After going twelve leagues a village of a thousand people was found. The natives offered them fruits and vegetables, and kissed their hands and feet in token of submission or adoration of such wonderful beings. The Spaniards saw no gold and no monarch; and, on their return, Columbus was obliged to give up some of his hopes about Cathay and gold-covered houses.

The natives were seen to roll a leaf, and, lighting one end of it, put the other in their mouth and smoke it. “The Spaniards,” says Irving, “were struck with astonishment at this singular and apparently nauseous indul­gence.” The leaf was tobacco, —they called it tobacos, — and the habit of barbarians has been easily copied by civilized men. The natives said bohio, which means house, and which they applied to a populous place like Hispaniola or Haiti; sometimes they said quisqueya, that is, the whole; and Columbus, thinking they meant the Quinsay (Hangchow) of Marco Polo, once more started in his search for wealth, and on the evening of Dee. 6 entered a harbor at the western end of Haiti.

The natives had fled in terror; so Columbus sent some armed men to the interior, accompanied by Indian interpreters. They found a village of about a thousand houses, whose inmates all fled, but were reassured by the interpreters, who told them that these strangers were descended from the skies, and went about making precious and beautiful presents. A naked young woman had been seized by the Spaniards; but Columbus gave her clothing and bells, and released her so as to win the others to friendliness. Iler husband now came to the nine armed men and thanked them for her safe return and for the gifts.

While Columbus was at Haiti a young chief visited him, borne by four men on a sort of litter, and attended by two hundred subjects. The subjects remained outside of Columbus’s cabin, while two old men entered with the chief and sat at his feet. He spoke but little, but gave the admiral a curious belt and two pieces of gold, for which Columbus in return presented him with a piece of cloth, several amber beads, colored shoes, and a flask of orange-water. In the evening he was sent on shore with great ceremony, and a salute fired in his honor.

Later Columbus received a request from a greater chief, Guacanagari, that he would come with his ships to his part of the island; but as the wind then prevented, a small party of Spaniards visited him and were most hospitably received.

On the morning of Dec. 24 Columbus started to visit this chief; and when they had come within a league of his residence, the sea being calm and the admiral having retired, his vessel, the Santa Maria, ran upon a sandbank and quickly went to pieces. When the chief heard of the shipwreck he shed tears, sent his people to unload the vessel and guard the contents, and his family to cheer the admiral, assuring him that everything he possessed was at the disposal of Columbus. All the crew went on board the little Nina, and later were entertained by Guacanagari.

He presented Columbus with a carved mask of wood, with the eyes and ears of gold; and perceiving that the eyes of the Spaniards glistened whenever they saw gold, he had all brought to them which could be obtained, even his own coronet of gold, for which they gave bells, nails, or any trifle, though sometimes cloth and shoes. Columbus wrote, “So loving, so tractable, so peaceable are these people, that I swear to your majesties there is not in the world a better nation, nor a better land. They love their neighbors as themselves; and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and accompanied with a smile; and though it is true that they are naked, yet their manners are decorous and praiseworthy.” The Pinta had apparently deserted — Columbus and Pinzon had differed with each other several times — for she was nowhere to be found; and with only the Nina, and winter coming on, he deemed it wise to return to Spain and make a report to his sovereigns.

The little vessel could not hold all the crew; and several begged to remain, as the warm climate and indolent life suited them. A fort was therefore built from the timbers of the wrecked Santa Maria, the Indians helping in the labor; and in ten days La Navidad, or the Nativity, in memorial of the shipwreck on Christmas, was ready for the ammunition and stores, enough for a year, and for the thirty-nine who were to remain. The command was given to Diego de Arana of Cordova, a cousin of Beatrix, — the relatives of Beatrix, and the money of the family, although not great in quantity, were always at the service of Columbus.

Warning his comrades who were to be left behind not to stray beyond the friendly country of Guacanagari, to treat him with the greatest respect, and to gather a ton of gold in his absence if possible, Columbus, after a sad parting, sailed homeward Jan. 4, 1493.

After two days they came upon the lost Pinta, Pinzon explaining his desertion by stress of weather. He was very glad to return with the admiral to Spain, although a heavy storm coming up, they parted company, and did not meet again till they were in their own country.

On Feb. 12 a violent storm placed Columbus in so much danger in his open boat that, fearful lest all should be lost, and no report of his discoveries reach Spain, he wrote on parchment two accounts, wrapped each in cloth, then in a cake of wax, and enclosed each in a barrel. One was thrown into the sea, and the other left on board the Nina, to float in ease she should sink.

On the homeward journey they were obliged to put into the Azores, where a party of five going to a little chapel of the Virgin to give thanks for their deliverance from shipwreck were seized by order of the Portuguese governor of the island. They were finally released, as such an aet might make unpleasant complications with Spain.

A little later a storm drove the Niña on the coast of Portugal, and Columbus and his crew took refuge in the river Tagus. The King of Portugal sent for him, received him with much honor, but tried to show that he had trespassed upon undiscovered ground granted the king by the Pope. After some parleying he was allowed to depart; and at noon, March 15, the Niña entered the harbor of Palos, from which she had departed seven months before.

All business was suspended. The bells were rung, and the returned Admiral and his men were the heroes of the time. The Pinta soon arrived, having been driven by a storm to Bayonne, from whence Pinzon wrote to the sovereigns of his intended visit to court. He kept apart from Columbus, some historians say, from fear of arrest for desertion, and died in his own house in Palos not many days afterwards. The degree of nobility was afterwards conferred upon the Pinzons by Charles V.

Columbus repaired to Seville, after sending a letter to the sovereigns, who were with their court at Barcelona. They replied at once, asking him to repair immediately to court, and to make plans for a second expedition to the Indies.

On his journey to Barcelona the people thronged out of the villages to meet the now famous discoverer. They were eager to see the six Indians whom he had brought, — of the ten, one had died on the passage, and three were ill at Palos.

About the middle of April he arrived at Barcelona, where every preparation had been made to give him a magnificent reception. He was no longer the unknown Italian, begging at royal doors for seven years for aid to seek a new world ; but he came now like a conqueror who had helped to make Spain rich and honored by his great discoveries.

At Barcelona the streets were almost impassable from the multitude. First came the Indians with their war­paint, feathers, and ornaments of gold; then birds, animals, and plants from across the seas, and then Columbus on horseback surrounded by richly dressed Spanish cavaliers.

The sovereigns on their thrones under a golden canopy, Prince Juan at their side, attended by all the dignitaries of court, waited to receive the Admiral. When Columbus approached the sovereigns they arose as if receiving a person of the highest rank. Bending before them, they raised him graciously, and bade him seat himself in their presence, an unusual honor.

At their request, he eloquently described the lands he had found, with the great wealth that must finally come to their throne. The sovereigns and all present fell upon their knees, while the choir of the royal chapel chanted the Te Deum laudamus. When Columbus left the royal presence all the court followed him, as well as crowds of the people.

He renewed within his own breast a vow previously made, that with the money obtained by these discoveries, he would equip a great army and secure the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem from the Turks.

Columbus and his discoveries were everywhere talked of. At the court of Henry VII in England it was accounted a “thing more divine than human.” Bartholomew Columbus had obtained the consent of Henry to fit out an expedition; but about this time Isabella decided in its favor.

While at Barcelona, Columbus was at all times admitted to the royal presence, and rode on horseback on one side of the king, while Prince Juan rode on the other. A court of arms was assigned him. The Grand Cardinal of Spain, Mendoza, made a banquet for him, at which is said to have occurred the incident of the egg. A courtier asked Columbus if he had not discovered the Indies, whether it was not probable some one else would have done so. The Admiral took an egg and asked the company to made it stand on end. Each one attempted, but in vain, when Columbus struck it upon the table, breaking the end, so that it would stand upright, as much as to say, after he had shown the way to the Indies, others could easily follow.

Columbus must have enjoyed this courtesy, “the only unalloyed days of happiness,” says Winsor, “freed of anxiety, which he ever experienced.”

Men and means were not wanting for the second voyage of Columbus. He did not need now to take criminals and debtors. Bishop Fonseca, archdeacon of Seville, was put in charge of Indian affairs. Money was raised from the confiscated property of the banished Jews, and five million maravedis were loaned from Medina-Sidonia. Artillery amassed during the Moorish wars was quickly brought forward. Men of prominent station and rich young Spaniards, anxious for adventure, were eager to go in the ships, besides several priests, intended for the conversion of the savages.

Seventeen vessels were soon in readiness. Horses and other animals, seeds, agricultural implements, rice, and other things were provided. About fifteen hundred persons, though many had been refused, were ready to sail. Among them were Diego, a brother of Columbus; the father and uncle of the noble historian, Las Casas; Juan Ponce de Leon, who later discovered Florida, and four of the six Indians who went to Barcelona. The latter had been baptized, with the king and queen as godfather and godmother.

All was now ready for the second voyage. It could not of course be like the first. That, as Mr. Fiske well says, is “a unique event in the history of manhood. Nothing like it was ever done before, and nothing like it can ever be done again. No worlds are left for a future Columbus to conquer. The era of which this great Italian mariner was the most illustrious representative has closed forever.”

The vessels sailed on the morning of Sept. 25, 1493, from the bay of Cadiz, and after an uneventful voyage reached land Nov, 3, discovering several islands, Domin­ica, Marie-Galante, Guadaloupe, Antigua, and Porto Rico. The natives fled in terror from the Spaniards, even leaving their children behind them in their flight. These the Spaniards soothed with bells and other trinkets.

Their houses were made of trunks of trees interwoven with reeds and thatched with palm-leaves. There were many geese, like those of Europe, great parrots, and an abundance of pineapples. The natives were cannibals and ate their prisoners. Their arrows were pointed with fish-bones, poisoned by the juice of an herb.

On Nov. 22 the ships arrived off the eastern part of Haiti, or Hispaniola. As some of the mariners were going along the coast, they found on the banks of a stream the bodies of a man and boy, the former with a cord of Spanish grass about his neck, and his arms extended and tied to a stake in the form of a cross. They at once feared that evil had befallen Arana and his garrison of thirty-nine men at La Navidad, whom they had left the previous Christmas, eleven months before.

When they reached the fortress nothing was left of it. Broken utensils and torn clothes were scattered in the grass. They found the graves of the men. long since dead, for the grass was growing over the mounds.

Columbus soon heard the story of their ruin. The thirty-nine men in the fortress began to quarrel among themselves after the departure of the Admiral, stole the wives and daughters of the Indians, and several of them went into the interior of the island ruled by Caonabo, a renowned chief of the Caribs or Cannibals. These Caonabo at once put to death, and then marched against the fort, and in the dead of night destroyed all the inmates. Guacanagari and his subjects fought for their guests, those in the fortress having been intrusted to the care of the Indian chief by Columbus, but were overpowered, the chief wounded, and his village burnt to the ground. All this was disheartening to the young cavaliers who had come to find wealth and happiness.

It soon became necessary to begin another town, as the cattle, as well as men, were suffering from confinement on shipboard. Early in December streets were laid out, a church, storehouse, and house for the Admiral built of stone, and the town of Isabella was established on the northern shore of Haiti, in the new world.

In a short time half the fifteen hundred persons who came from Spain were ill. They were not used to labor; the country was malarious; they were disappointed and lonely, and this condition of mind wore upon their bodies. They had all hoped for gold, and there was none at hand, nor any prospect of wealth.

Columbus decided that, as lie had heard there were gold mines in Cibao, even though it was in Caonabo's country, the place must be visited. He therefore sent a daring young cavalier, Alonso de Ojeda, with a well­armed force, to investigate the matter. He returned with glowing accounts of gold-dust in the streams and with a nugget of gold weighing nine ounces. Others found gold in other localities, and the hopes of the Spaniards were revived. It became so evident that gold was what the discoverers desired that the natives called it “ the Christians’ God.”

Provisions began to grow scarce for so many persons; medicine, clothing, horses, workmen, and arms were needed ; so twelve ships were sent back to Spain, with several men, women, and children from the cannibal Caribbee islands, who, while they were to be converted to Christianity, were to be sold as slaves according to the suggestion of Columbus, and the money used to buy cattle. It seems strange that such a religious man as Columbus, who was looking forward to spending his wealth to recover the Holy Sepulchre, should have suggested human slavery, or, rather, it would seem strange, had we not in America witnessed so many Christians, both North and South, upholding the slave-trade in this enlightened nineteenth century. It behooves us to be lenient toward the fifteenth century.

Isabella, to her honor be it said, would not consent to the cannibals being sold as slaves, but ordered that they should be converted like the rest of the Indians.

After the fleet had sailed to Spain, many of the men left behind became melancholy and discontented, and a faction determined to take some of the remaining ships and return home. They were discovered and punished, but an ill-feeling was created towards Columbus which was never overcome.

In March, 1494, leaving his brother Diego in charge of the town, Columbus started with four hundred men, including miners and carpenters, horses and fire-arms, to the mountains of Cibao, as he could not much longer abstain from sending back to the monarchs the continually promised gold of Cathay. The men sallied forth with much display, so as to impress the neighboring Indians.

The way thither was steep and difficult, across rivers and glens, till they reached the top of the mountains, about eighteen leagues from the settlement. Near by he erected a wooden fortress. At first the natives fled at their approach, fearing especially the horses; but later they came and brought food and gold-dust, and assured him that farther on — somewhere — were masses of orc as large as a child’s head. The Admiral told them, as ever, that anything would be given in exchange for gold.

Columbus was surprised to find that the natives of Haiti had a religion of their own. They believed in one supreme being, who was immortal and omnipotent, with a mother, but no father. They employed inferior deities, called Zemes, as messengers to him. Each chief had a bouse in which was an image in wood or stone of his Zemi, and each family had a particular Zemi, or protector. Their bodies were often painted or tattoed with figures of these gods. Besides the Zemes, each chief had three idols, which were held in great reverence.

They believed that the sun and moon issued from a cavern on their island, and that mankind issued from another cavern. For a long time there were no women on the island; but seeing four among the branches of trees, they endeavored to catch them, but found them slippery as eels. Some men with rough hands were engaged to catch them, and succeeded.

They had a singular idea about the Flood. A great chief on the island slew his son for conspiring against him. He put the bones of his son into a gourd, and one day when he opened the gourd many fishes leaped out. Four brothers heard of this gourd, and came and opened it secretly. They carelessly let it fall, when great whales sprang out and sharks, and a mighty flood covered the earth, so that the islands are only the tops of the mountains.

When a chief was dying he was strangled, so that he should not die like common people. Others were stretched in hammocks, with bread and water at their heads, and abandoned to die.

When the new fortress, St. Thomas, was nearly built, Columbus left it in charge of Pedro Margarite, a Catalonian, and returned to Isabella. Here he found more discontent and sickness than before. As food was growing scarce, and there was no method of grinding corn but a hand-mill, he began at once to erect a mill, and com­pelled the young hidalgos, or men of high blood, to work. This produced more bitterness than ever; for they had not come hither to a new country to labor, but to pick up gold at their leisure. Their pride was wounded; lack of accustomed food and unusual bodily labor soon told on luxurious idlers, and great numbers sank into their graves, cursing the day on which they set sail for the Indies. Years after, when the place was deserted, it was believed that two rows of phantom hidalgos, richly apparelled, walked the solitary streets, and disappeared at the approach of the living.

To quiet his own people and to overawe Caonabo, or any other hostile chief, Columbus sent Ojeda to take charge of St. Thomas, and about four hundred armed men to march into the interior under Pedro Margarite, who had been left at St. Thomas. Margarite was charged to be just to the natives, but if they refused to sell provisions to compel them, but in as kindly a manner as possible. Caonabo and his brothers, because the former was feared by the colonists, were to be surprised and secured if possible, notwithstanding that they were defending their own country from intruders.

Columbus having settled, as he hoped, his turbulent comrades, made a voyage to Cuba early in April, 1494. Inquiring, as usual, of the people for gold, they always pointed to the south. Columbus sailed on. and finally discovered Jamaica. As they approached the land, as many as seventy canoes filled with Indians, painted and adorned with feathers, uttered loud cries and brandished their pointed wooden lances. They were quieted by the Indian interpreters. At another time the Spaniards fired upon them and let loose a cruel bloodhound.

Not finding gold in Jamaica, as he had hoped, Columbus returned to Cuba, and ran along its shore for three hundred and thirty-five leagues. He discovered many small islands, a lovely country, more kindly natives than before, who told him that toward the west lay the province of Mangon—he was sure this was Marco Polo’s Mangi, or Southern China — and would have gone farther but the crew insisted upon his return. So sure were they all that this was Asia that all agreed under oath that if any should hereafter contradict this opinion, he should have his tongue cut out, and receive a hundred lashes if a sailor, and pay ten thousand maravedis if an officer. And yet they could not help wondering why they did not find the rich cities of Marco Polo. Columbus, worn with the fatigues and anxieties of five months of cruising, suddenly fell into a lethargy like death, and in this condition of insensibility he was borne into the harbor of Isabella, Sept. 29, 1494.

On regaining consciousness, he found his brother Bartholomew at his bedside. After the return of the latter from Henry VII of England, to whom he had gone for aid in behalf of Christopher, some years before, and been captured by pirates, he found that his brother had discovered the Indies, and had gone on his second voyage. He repaired to the Spanish court, where he was cordially received, and fitted out by the sovereigns with three ships filled with supplies for his brother.

Columbus was overjoyed to see Bartholomew, a man of much decision and knowledge of the sea, and quite well educated. He immediately made Bartholomew adelantado, an office equivalent to that of lieutenant-governor.

Meantime Pedro Margarite, who had been told to make a military tour of Haiti, was in serious trouble. The island was divided into live domains, each ruled by a chief. It was thickly populated, some authorities say with a million people.

Instead of making a tour of the country, he and his indolent followers lingered in the fertile regions near by, and lived on the provisions furnished by the Indians, which they could ill afford to spare. The Spaniards took the wives and daughters of the inhabitants, and con­stant quarrels resulted.

Margarite, being of an old family, spoke with contempt of Diego Columbus, left in charge at Isabella, and also of the Admiral. Margarite drew to his side those already disaffected toward Columbus, and, seizing some ships which were, lying in the harbor, set sail for Spain. At court they represented that Hispaniola was a con­stant pecuniary drain upon the sovereigns, rather than a source of income, for Ferdinand was more anxious even than Columbus to secure gold for his coffers; and they poisoned the mind of Fonseca, already somewhat at enmity with Columbus concerning the so-called tyrannies of the Admiral. Perhaps the real trouble was that Columbus was not severe enough with this idle and sensual set, who wished to get rich without labor.

The soldiers whom Margarite left behind him without a leader were more lawless than before. One of the chiefs, exasperated by their conduct, put to death ten of them who had injured his people, and set fire to a house where forty-six Spaniards were lodged. The Indians were beginning to find out that these people had not come to their country from heaven.

Caonabo, an intelligent and able warrior, who from the first had felt that harm would come to his people unless these white men could be driven out, determined to destroy St. Thomas, as La Navidad had been destroyed.

But he had a very brave young officer to deal with, Alonso de Ojeda, who was a favorite of Medinaceli, and had fought in the Moorish wars. He always carried a picture of the Virgin with him, and believed that she protected him.

Caonabo assembled ten thousand warriors, armed with bows and arrows, clubs and lances, and came out before the fortress, hoping to surprise the garrison ; but Ojeda was ready to meet him. Caonabo then decided to starve them by investing every pass. For thirty days the siege was maintained, and famine stared the Spaniards in the face.

Ojeda made many sorties from the fort, and killed several of the foremost warriors, until Caonabo, weary of the siege, and admiring the bravery of Ojeda, retired from the fort. The chief now determined to invite the other chiefs of the island to help despoil Isabella; but Guacanagari, the friendly chief, opposed the plan, and kept, at his own expense, one hundred of the suffering Spanish soldiers. This incensed Caonabo and his brother-in-law, Behechio, who together killed one of Guacanagari’s wives, carried another away captive, and invaded his territory with their army. The friendly chief at once reported the plan to destroy Isabella to the Admiral.

Ojeda offered to take Caonabo by stratagem and deliver him alive into the hands of Columbus. Taking ten bold followers, he made his way through the forests to the home of Caonabo, sixty leagues from St. Thomas. Ojeda paid great deference to the chief, and told him he had brought a valuable present from his Admiral.

Caonabo received the young Spaniard with great courtesy. The latter asked the Indian chief to go to Isabella to make a treaty of peace, to which he consented, preparing to take a large body of men with him. To this Ojeda demurred, as useless, but the march began.

Having halted on the journey, Ojeda showed the chief a set of steel manacles resembling silver, and assured him that these came from heaven, were worn by the monarchs of Castile in solemn dances, and that they were a present to the chief. He proposed that the chief should bathe and then put on these ornaments, and mounting Ojeda’s horse, thus equipped, surprise his subjects.

He was pleased with the idea of riding upon a horse, the animal which his countrymen so much feared would eat them. Mounting behind Ojeda on horseback, the manacles were adjusted, and Ojeda and the chief, with the rest of the horsemen, rode before the Indians, to show them how the steeds could prance. Then Ojeda dashed into the woods, his followers closed around him, and at the point of the sword threatened Caonabo with instant death if he made the least noise. He was bound with cords to Ojeda so that he could not fall off, and, putting spurs to their horses, they started towards Isabella.

They passed through the Indian towns at full gallop, and, tired and hungry, arrived after some days at the Spanish settlement.

Columbus ordered that the haughty chieftain should be treated with kindness and respect, and kept him in chains in his own house. Caonabo always had admira­tion for Ojeda, and would rise to greet him, but never for Columbus, as he said the latter never dared to come personally to his house and seize him.

Caonabo’s subjects were much cast down at the loss of their chief, and one of his brothers raised an army of seven thousand against St. Thomas. They were scattered by the dashing Ojeda, and the brother of Caonabo was taken prisoner.

In the autumn of 1494 Antonio Torres arrived from Spain with four ships filled with supplies, and kind letters from the sovereigns to Columbus. The Admiral deemed it wise that these ships return as soon as possible, so as to counteract any reports made by Margarite and his men. To make up for the lack of gold — the ship carried all he could possibly gather — he sent home, in opposition to the expressed wishes of Isabella, five hundred Indians to be sold as slaves in the markets of Seville.

It is true that both Spaniards and Portuguese made large profits from the African slave trade; that the Moors, men, women, and children, by the thousands, were sold into cruel bondage, and Columbus but followed the dreadful example of his age. He had held out such high hopes of gold from this probable Cathay, there was such discontent already at his meagre returns, that he allowed his conscience to be hardened, if, indeed, he had any scruples about the matter.

Not so Isabella. While, like others of her time, intolerant of heretics, she felt deeply interested in this gentle and hospitable new-found race. Five days after royal orders had been issued for their sale, the order was suspended through Isabella’s influence, until the sovereigns could inquire why these Indians had been made prisoners, and to consult learned theologians as to whether their sale would be right in the sight of God. Much difference of opinion was expressed by the divines, when Isabella took the matter into her own hands, gave orders that they should be returned to the island of Haiti, and that all the islanders should be treated in the gentlest manner.

Another brother of Caonabo had raised a hostile army, said by some to have numbered one hundred thousand, aided by Anacaona, the favorite wife of Caonabo, and her brother Behechio, against the town of Isabella. Columbus at once prepared to meet them with all the men and arms at his command, and twenty fierce blood­hounds.

A battle was fought in the latter part of March, 1495, when the Indians were completely routed, the blood­hounds seizing them by the throat, and tearing them in pieces, and the horses trampling them to the earth.

Columbus, still eager for wealth for Spain, now laid a heavy tribute upon all the conquered Indians. Those chiefs near the mines were required to furnish a hawk’s- bill of gold-dust every three months, —about fifteen dollars of our money, Irving thinks. Those distant from the mines were obliged to furnish twenty-five pounds of cotton every three months. One of the chiefs, because he could not furnish the gold, offered to cultivate a large tract of land for Columbus, which offer was rejected, because gold alone would satisfy Spain. The Admiral finally lowered the amount to half a hawk’s-bill.

To enforce these measures he built fortresses, and the Indians, unused to labor, soon found themselves slaves in their own land. They hunted the streams for gold, and obtained little. With pitiful simplicity they asked the Spaniards when they were going to return to heaven!

Finally they agreed among themselves to leave their homes and go into the mountains and hidden caverns, where they could subsist on roots, and let their hated task-masters toil for themselves. But the Spaniards pursued them and made them return to their labors.

The friendly chief, Guacanagari, hated by his neighboring territories on account of his kindness to Columbus, blamed by his suffering and overworked subjects, unable himself to pay the tribute, took refuge in the mountains, and died in want and obscurity.

As matters were going on so badly in the Indies, the sovereign sent out Juan Aguado towards the last of August, 1495, on a mission of inquiry. He took out four ships, well filled with supplies. Aguado, like many others, seems to have been unduly exalted with a little power conferred upon him, and when he arrived at Isabella, acted as though he were the governor. The disaffected sided with him, and even the Indians were glad of a change of power, hoping against hope for a betterment of their condition.

When Aguado was ready to return to Spain, a fearful storm destroyed all his ships; but a new one was built, in which he returned, and Columbus at the same time went back in the Nina to lay his own side of the case before the sovereigns. With them returned two hundred and twenty-five sick, idle, disappointed adventurers, besides thirty Indians including Caonabo. He died on the voyage of a broken spirit.

On this voyage the winds were against them, so that with the delay their food became so scarce that Irving says it was proposed to kill and eat the Indians, or throw them into the sea to make less mouths to feed. This Columbus sternly forbade. After three months, June 11, 149G, they reached the harbor of Cadiz. They were not the joyous adventurers who went out almost three years before. Columbus himself wore a robe girdled with a cord of the Franciscans, so dejected was he in spirit.

Columbus soon learned the state of feeling towards himself in Spain, and felt more than ever that he must make the Indies of profit to the Spanish treasury. He repaired to the court in July, and was treated with much courtesy and cordiality. The monarchs were too greatly absorbed in preparations for the marriage of Juana with Philip of Austria, and of Philip’s sister Margarita with Prince Juan, to do anything just then toward fitting out a third expedition. An armada of one hundred ships with twenty thousand persons on board was sent to take out Juana to Flanders, and to bring back Margarita. Besides, the sovereigns were maintaining a large army in Italy to help the king of Naples in recovering his throne from Charles VIII of France, and had many squadrons elsewhere.

In the autumn six millions of maravedis were ordered to be given to Columbus, but just about that time Pedro Alonzo Nino sent word to the court that he had arrived with a great amount of gold on his three ships from Hispaniola. Ferdinand was rejoiced to keep the six million maravedis to repair a fortress, and ordered Nino to pay the gold to Columbus. When Nino arrived at court it was found that his vaunted gold was another crowd of Indians brought over to be sold as slaves.

When the spring came the wedding of Prince Juan was celebrated with great splendor at Burgos, and then Isabella turned her interest toward Columbus, she alone being concerned, for the king began to look coldly on him, and the royal counsellors were his enemies. The queen allowed him to entail his estates, so that they might always descend with his titles of nobility. She granted him three hundred and thirty persons in royal pay, and he might increase the number to five hundred. He was also authorized to grant land to all such as wished to cultivate vineyards or sugar plantations on condition that they should reside on the island for four years after such grant.

It was fortunate for Columbus that Isabella was his friend, for he seemed to have few others, so easy is it for the world to follow the successful, and to decry the unsuccessful. No person seemed to wish to go on this third voyage, or to furnish ships. Finally, at the suggestion of Columbus, criminals sentenced to the mines, or galleys, or banishment, were allowed to go to the New World instead, and work without pay. A general pardon was offered to scoundrels; those who had committed crimes worthy of death should remain two years I lighter crimes, one year. There could scarcely have been a worse plan.

While matters dragged along, Isabella’s only son, Prince Juan, died, overwhelming her with grief for the remainder of her days. Yet she still thought of Columbus, and out of her own funds set apart for her daughter Isabella, betrothed to Emanuel, King of Portugal, sent two ships with supplies. The two sous of Columbus who had been pages to the prince she took into her own service.

So long was everything delayed that Columbus would have given up any further discovery except for his feelings of gratitude to the queen and his desire to cheer her in her afflictions.

Finally the six ships were ready, when in a moment of loss of self-control, Columbus allowed his temper to work great injury to him. He knocked down an inso­lent man who annoyed him, and kicked him after he was down. He regretted it, but paid dearly for it, as do others who fail to control their tempers. The sovereigns naturally believed that some of the stories about his severity in the Indies were true; and Las Casas attributed the humiliating measures toward Columbus, which soon followed, to this one unmanly act.

On May 30, 1498, Columbus set sail with six vessels from San Lucar de Barrameda, on his third voyage. Three of these vessels he despatched directly to Haiti with supplies, one being commanded by Pedro de Arana, the brother of Beatrix.

With the other three he sailed to the Cape de Verde islands, off the coast of Africa, and then as the heat of the tropics became almost unbearable, the tar in the seams of the ship melting and causing leakage, and the meat and wine becoming spoiled, he changed his course due west and finally reached an island off the coast of South America, which he called Trinidad, in honor of the Trinity.

He was surprised to find such verdure and fertility. While coasting the island, Columbus beheld toward the South, land intersected by the branches of the Orinoco, not dreaming that it was a continent.

He tried to allure the natives on board by friendly signs, a display of looking-glasses and the like; but finding these of no avail, though they looked on in wonder for about two hours with their oars in their hands, Columbus tried the power of music, at which the Indians, thinking this an indication of hostility, discharged a shower of arrows. This was returned by the cross-bows of the Spaniards, when they immediately fled.

Columbus sailed into the Gulf of Paria, supposing it to be the open sea, and was surprised to find the water fresh. The entrance between Trinidad and the main land he called, from the fury of the water, the Serpent’s Mouth, and the opposite pass the Dragon’s Mouth.

He soon discovered Margarita and Cubagua, afterwards famous for pearls. He procured about three pounds of pearls for bells and broken pieces of plates — Valencia ware—which pearls he sent to the sovereigns as specimens of the untold wealth of the new lands.

Columbus was now so afflicted by a disease in his eyes from constant watching and sleeplessness that he was almost blind, and he had also a very severe attack of gout with intense suffering, which emaciated him greatly. His food supplies, too, were nearly exhausted, so it was necessary for him to reach San Domingo on the southern coast of Hispaniola as soon as possible. He arrived Aug. 30, 1498.

Sad things had happened during his absence of more than two years. The people at Isabella were nearly starving for lack of food. Some were ill, but most were too much opposed to labor to cultivate the fields. War had broken out afresh with the Indians, and there was mutiny among the Spaniards.

The three vessels which he had sent directly to Hispaniola, while he retained three for discovery, had been deceived by Francisco Roldan, who had been made judge of the island by the Admiral. Roldan told the captains of the three vessels, that he was in that part of the island taking tribute, and helped himself to all he wished. Many of the men on board, being criminals forced into the service, joined him in his mutiny. When the ships arrived in port what remained of their provisions was nearly spoiled.

Columbus, seeing so much disaffection, issued a proc­lamation that all who wished could go to Spain in five vessels about to return. The vessels lay in the harbor eighteen days, while Columbus was negotiating with the rebels. The Indian prisoners on board were suffering from heat and hunger, and many died; some were suffocated with heat in the holds of the vessels. When the ships returned Columbus wrote letters to the sovereigns about the rebellion, and Roldan wrote letters also.

After much writing and sending of messages — Columbus did not dare resort to arms as Roldan’s party was so strong— it was agreed that Roldan and his followers should return to Spain. This they refused to do later, and would only make peace on condition that Roldan should be again chief judge of the island, have large grants of land made to him and his followers, and that it should be proclaimed that everything charged against him and his party had been on false testimony. To such humiliating concessions Columbus was obliged to submit.

Roldan resumed his office of chief judge, and was more insolent than ever. He demanded much land and many Indian slaves. Columbus now granted to all colonists who would remain, Indian slaves, and each chief was required to furnish free Indians to help cultivate the lands. Thus the cruel system of repartimientos, or distribution of free Indians among the colonists, began, a measure which led to the most cruel overwork and suffering, and in the end annihilated the rightful owners of the soil.

Damaging reports of the condition of the colonists and the inability of Columbus to control the mutinous set, had reached the crown. They therefore sent Don Francisco de Bobadilla, an officer of the royal household, to investigate matters. He had orders to receive into his keeping, ships, houses, fortresses, and all royal property, provided it should be proved that Columbus had for­feited his claim to the control of such property. A letter was sent to Columbus requiring his obedience to Bobadilla. The latter sailed about the middle of July, 1500, for San Domingo.

When he arrived, Aug. 23, seeing the bodies of some Spaniards whom Columbus had recently executed for con­spiracy against his life, he concluded that the reports of the cruelty of the Admiral were true, and at once ordered Diego, the brother of Columbus, as the latter was absent, to deliver up the malcontents to him. He read his royal orders from the door of the church. As Diego was at first unwilling to submit without the command of the Admiral, Bobadilla went at once to the fortress and released the conspirators.

He threw Diego into prison, seized the gold, plate, horses, and manuscripts of Columbus, and took up his residence in the Admiral’s house. Columbus was astonished beyond measure, nor would he believe, until he saw a letter signed by the sovereigns bidding him give obedience to Bobadilla. In answer to a summons to appear immediately before the latter, he departed almost alone for San Domingo, to meet Bobadilla. When the latter heard of his arrival, he gave orders to put Columbus in irons, and confine him in the fortress.

When the irons were brought all present shrank from putting them on, such an outrage did it seem to one so dignified and almost always so lenient and considerate. Columbus bore it all in silence, showing no ill-will against any. Fearing that the more determined Bartholomew would rebel and try to rescue his brother, Bobadilla demanded that Columbus write to Bartholomew requesting him to come peaceably to San Domingo. This Columbus did, assuring his brother that all would be made right when they arrived in Castile. On his arrival he was also put in irons, and the three brothers were not allowed to communicate with each other. Bobadilla did not visit them nor allow others to do so.

All kinds of misrule were charged against Columbus. Even the worst among the motley crowd at San Domingo blew horns about the prison doors, glad of any change and any hope of ease and lawlessness. Columbus began to suspect that his life even would be taken. When the vessels were in readiness to carry their prisoners to Spain, Alonzo de Villejo, who was to conduct them, entered the fortress with the guard.

“Villejo,” said the white-haired discoverer, “whither are you taking me ? ”

“ To the ship, your Excellency, to embark,” was his reply.

“ To embark ! Villejo, do you speak the truth ? ”

“By the life of your Excellency, it is true ! ”

The ships set sail in October, amidst the shouts of the rabble. Both Villejo and the master of the caravel wished to remove the chains: but Columbus said. “No; their majesties commanded me by letter to submit to whatever Bobadilla should order in their name ; by their authority he has put upon me these chains; I will wear them until they shall order them to be taken off, and I will preserve them afterwards as relics and memorials of the reward of my services.” “ He requested,” says his son Ferdinand, “that they might be buried with him.”

When Columbus reached Cadiz in irons the whole population was overwhelmed with astonishment and indignation. Those even who had been his enemies were loud in condemnation of such treatment. These murmurs of the people reached the ear of the court at Granada. During the voyage Columbus wrote a letter to Dona Juana de la Torre, former nurse of Prince Juan, a lady much beloved by Isabella. This was sent as soon as he arrived. In the letter he says, “The slanders of worthless men have done me more injury than all my services have profited me. . . . Whatever errors I may have fallen into, they were not with an evil intention.”

When this letter was read to Isabella she realized the wrong that had been done to Columbus, ordered that he and his brothers be at once released, and wrote a “letter of gratitude and affection,” inviting the Admiral to court, and sending two thousand ducats for his expenses.

The heart of Columbus was cheered. He repaired to Granada Dec. 17, and was received with great distinction. Isabella wept; and when he saw his sovereign thus affected he fell upon his knees, sobbed aloud, and could not speak for some time.

The sovereigns raised him from the ground and encouraged him with most gracious words. They declared that Bobadilla had exceeded their instructions and should be immediately dismissed; that the property of Columbus and all his rights and privileges should be restored.

The position of viceroy, however, was not restored to him, probably because since several other discoveries had been made, principally by those who had been assistants of Columbus, —Nino, who had been with the Admiral to Cuba, had sailed to South America and brought back pearls, and Vicente Yañez Pinzon had discovered the Amazon River and sailed to Cape St. Augustine,— Ferdinand no longer deemed it wise for so much territory to be under one person, and that person a foreigner.

He assured Columbus that it was not wise for him to return for two years, since matters were in such confusion; so Don Nicholas de Ovando was chosen to supersede Bobadilla. He went out Feb. 13,1502, with a fleet of thirty ships and twenty-five hundred persons. In the early part of the voyage the fleet was scattered by a storm, one vessel foundered with one hundred and twenty passengers, and the others were obliged to throw overboard everything on deck, so that the shores of Spain were strewed with articles from the fleet. So overcome were the sovereigns by this news, that they shut themselves up for eight days, allowing no one to be admitted to their presence. Most of the ships finally reached San Domingo.

Under Bobadilla matters had gone from bad to worse. “ Make the most of your time; there is no knowing how long it will last,” was his oft-repeated expression to the slave-holders. The position of the Indians grew intolerable.

“Little used to labor,” says Irving, “feeble of constitution, and accustomed in their beautiful and luxuriant island to a life of ease and freedom, they sank under the toils imposed upon them and the severities by which they were enforced. . . . When the Spaniards travelled, instead of using the horses and mules with which they were provided, they obliged the natives to transport them upon their shoulders in litters, or hammocks, with others attending to hold umbrellas of palm-leaves over their heads to keep off the sun, and fans of feathers to cool them; and Las Casas affirms that he has seen the backs and shoulders of the unfortunate Indians who bore these litters raw and bleeding from the task.”

Finally, in 1502, Columbus was to make his fourth and last voyage. He was now sixty-six, his body weakened by exposure and mental suffering. His squadron consisted of four caravels and one hundred and fifty men. His brother and his younger son, Ferdinand, sailed with him. He had assured the sovereigns that he believed there was a strait (about where the Isthmus of Panama is situated), and thought that he could pass to the Indian Ocean, and reach Hindostan westward as Vasco da Gama bad recently reached it sailing eastward.

Columbus and his party left Cadiz May 9 or 11, 1502, and one of his vessels having become unseaworthy, he stopped at Hispaniola in order to purchase another or exchange it in San Domingo. As Ovando was then in command, Columbus had been told by the sovereigns to stop on his way homeward rather than in going out, as matters were still so unsettled; but the condition of the ship demanding it, he thought he should not be blamed.

In the harbor, about to start for Spain, were the vessels in which Ovando had sailed, ready to carry back Bo­badilla and some of his adherents, Roldan, and others. Bobadilla bad one immense nugget of gold, which had been found by an Indian woman, and this he intended to carry to the sovereigns, knowing that the finding of gold was sure to cover up many sins. In one vessel were four thousand pieces of gold, which had been set apart by the agent of Columbus as the rightful share of the latter.

Columbus sent word to Ovando of his arrival, and asked permission to remain in the harbor, as he apprehended a storm. This was refused. Then he sent word again that he felt sure the storm was approaching, and hoped that the fleet might not be returned to Spain just yet. Probably Ovando thought any suggestion about storms was unwarranted, for no attention was paid to it, and the fleet set sail.

The storm soon arose, the ship, having on board Bobadilla and his gold, with Roldan and an Indian chief as prisoner, went down, and all the rest were wrecked or so badly damaged that none could proceed to Spain save one, and that the one which carried the gold of Columbus.

The Admiral and his vessels seem to have been almost miraculously preserved in the fearful storm, unsheltered as they were. He sailed on past the southern shore of Cuba, and soon reached the coast of Honduras.

Here he was surprised to find quite a superior race of Indians. Their hatchets for cutting wood were of copper instead of stone; they had sheets and mantles of cotton, worked and dyed in various colors. The women wore mantles like the women among the Moors at Granada, and the men had cotton cloth about the loins.

Fearful storms prevailed for nearly two months. The seams of the vessels opened, and the sails were torn to pieces. Many times the sailors confessed their sins to each other and prepared for death. “ I have seen many tempests,” says Columbus, “but none so violent or of such long duration.” Much of the time he was ill, and worried over his son Ferdinand and his brother Bartholmew. “ The distress of my son grieved me to the soul,” he says, “ and the more when I considered his tender age; for he was but thirteen years old, and he enduring so much toil for so long a time. . . . My brother was in the ship that was in the worst condition and the most exposed to danger; and my grief on his account was the greater that I brought him with me against his will.”

They sailed along what is now the Mosquito Coast and the shore of Costa Rica (Rich Coast), so called from the gold and silver mines found later in its mountains. Everywhere they heard reports of gold. They met ten canoes of Indians, most of whom had plates of gold about their necks, which they refused to part with.

Sometimes the Indians were hostile, and would rush into the sea up to their waists, and splash the water at the Spaniards in defiance; but, as a rule, they were soon pacified, and induced to give up their gold for a few trinkets.

Continuing along the coast of Veragua, where they heard that the most gold could be found, they saw for the first time signs of solid architecture — a great mass of stuceo formed of stone and lime. Columbus wrote to the sovereigns later that the people — he had gathered this from the Indians in part, and also judged from what he saw — wore crowns, bracelets, and anklets of gold, and used it for domestic purposes, even to ornament their seats and tables. Some Indians told him that the people were mounted on horseback, and that great ships came into their ports armed with cannon. This, indeed, must be the country of Kublai Khan, whom Marco Polo wrote about.

The coast abounded in maize, or Indian corn, pine­apples, and other tropical fruits, and alligators sunned themselves along the banks of the rivers.

Again storms came up, and the rain poured from the skies, says Columbus, like a second deluge. The men were almost drowned in their open vessels. Sharks gathered round the ships, which the sailors regarded as a bad omen, as it was believed these could smell dead bodies at a distance, and always kept about a vessel soon to be wrecked. Their food had been spoiled by the heat and moisture of the climate, and their biscuits were so filled with worms that they had to be eaten in the dark so as to prevent nausea.

As soon as the sea was calm, Columbus determined to ascertain the truth about gold mines. He sent Bartholomew into the interior with several men and three guides whom the principal chief, Quibian, had furnished him. The guides took him, it is believed, into the territory of an enemy, Quibian hoping thereby to save his own land from intrusion.

Bartholomew set forth again with an armed band of fifty-nine men, and found much to convince him that gold was here in abundance. It was determined there­fore to build a town here, which should be the great centre for gold-mining. Bartholomew should remain with the men, while the Admiral sailed to Spain for more aid.

Houses were at once started, built of wood and thatched with the leaves of palm-trees. True, they had almost no food, but there was maize and fruit in abundance. Many presents were made to Quibian to reconcile him to this intrusion; but he was warlike, and soon gathered a force of a thousand men for the ostensible purpose of making war upon a neighboring tribe.

This Diego Mendez, the chief notary, did not believe. He volunteered therefore with another Spaniard to go to the house of Quibian and see for themselves. The chief was confined to his house by an arrow wound in the leg. Mendez told the son — the latter struck him a fearful blow as he arrived, but was finally pacified — that he had come with some ointment to heal the father. He could not gain access to the chief, but he learned in various ways that Quibian intended to surprise the town at night and murder the people.

Bartholomew determined at once to march to Quibian’s house and capture him and his warriors. Taking seventy four armed men, he started on his errand. He led the way with five men, the others out of sight in the rear.

As Bartholomew drew near the house Quibian saw him and requested him to approach alone. Telling Mendez that when he, Bartholomew, should take the chief by the arm, they should spring to his assistance, he advanced to meet Quibian, asked about his wound, and, under pretence of examining it, took hold of his arm.

Immediately the four rushed to his aid, the others surrounded the dwelling, and about fifty old and young were seized with all their gold, amounting to about three hundred ducats. The Indians offered any amount for the release of Quibian, but even gold could not tempt the Spaniards in this case. The chief was taken on board of one of the boats; but he managed to escape in the night, and it was supposed that he had perished, as both feet and hands were bound.

However, he had not drowned, and when he realized that he was bereft of wives and children, he determined upon revenge. He assembled his warriors and came secretly upon the settlement, wounding several, till the bloodhounds were let loose upon them, and they fled in terror. Bartholomew was among the wounded.

The Admiral meantime, unable to pass the bar, had on board the captive warriors and family of Quibian. They were shut up at night in the forecastle, several of the crew sleeping upon the hatchway which was secured by a strong chain and padlock. In the night some of the Indians forced this open and sprang into the sea. Several were seized before they could escape, were forced back into the forecastle, and the hatchway again fastened. In the morning all were found dead. They had hanged or strangled themselves, so hateful was this dominion of the white men.

After a short time the Admiral, one of his caravels being so worm-eaten that it went to pieces, and another worthless, abandoned the fort, leaving the unwelcome coast of Veragua, and reached Jamaica. The other two caravels were reduced to mere wrecks, and were ready to sink even in port.

It was necessary to send to Ovando to ask for ships in which to come to San Domingo. Diego Mendez with another Spaniard, and six Indians, set out on the perilous journey in a canoe having a mast and sail. Once they were taken by Indians but escaped ; again they were taken prisoners, and Mendez again escaped and made his way back alone in his canoe to Columbus, after fifteen days’ absence.

Mendez offered to try once more if a party could be provided to go with him to the end of Jamaica, when he would attempt to cross the gulf to Haiti. Bartholomew therefore, with an armed band on shore, followed beside the two canoes on the water till they were at the end of the island, and then they pushed out into the broad sea.

The voyage was a terrible one. The water gave out, and some of the rowers died of thirst and were thrown into the sea, while others lay gasping on the bottom of the canoes. Finally they reached a small island and found rain-water in the crevices of the rocks. The Indians were frantic with delight, drank too much, and several died.

At last they reached San Domingo, only to learn that Ovando was at Xaragua, fifty leagues distant, whither Mendez proceeded on foot through forests and over mountains. Ovando blandly expressed his sorrow, and promised aid week after week and month after month, for a year, not allowing Mendez to leave San Domingo, under pretence that the ships would soon be ready.

The days seemed long to wait for an answer from Ovando. The little band with Columbus began to murmur, and before he was aware of it a mutiny was at hand. On Jan. 2, 1504, when he was a complete cripple in his bed from gout, Francisco de Porras, captain of one of the caravels, appeared before him and in an insolent manner declared that Columbus did not intend to carry the men back to Spain, and they had determined to take the matter into their own hands.

“Embark immediately,” said Porras, “or remain in God’s name. For my part,” turning his back on the Admiral, “I am for Castile! those who choose may follow me! ”

Shouts came from all sides of the vessel, “I will follow you! and I! and I! ” while others brandished their weapons and cried out, “To Castile I to Castile!” while some even threatened the life of the Admiral. Bartholomew at once planted himself, lance in hand, before the turbulent crowd. Porras was told to go if he wished, so taking ten canoes which the Admiral had purchased from the Indians, about forty set sail for Hispaniola, taking with them some Indians to guide the canoes.

When out to sea they were soon compelled to return, and finding that they were too heavily loaded in the rough waves, they forced the Indians to leap into the ocean. Although skilful swimmers, it was too far from land for them to reach it, so they occasionally grasped the boats to gain their breath. Upon this the Spaniards cut off their hands and stabbed them till eighteen sank beneath the waves. Once more back upon the land, they went from village to village, passing, as Irving says, “like a pestilence through the island.”

At length, after a year, two vessels arrived, one fitted out by Mendez and the other by Ovando.

Columbus and his men set sail, and arrived in San Domingo Aug. 13, 1504. The Admiral was politely received by Ovando, and lodged in his house. While he professed great friendship for Columbus, he pardoned the traitor Porras.

Columbus found matters in a dreadful condition in San Domingo. When Ovando came out to supersede Bobadilla, Isabella had made the Indians free, so amazed had she been at the treatment received in their slavery under him. When Ovando saw that the Spaniards murmured and would not work, he wrote to the Queen that the Indians could only be kept from vices by labor, and that they now kept aloof from the Spaniards, and there­fore lost all Christian instruction.

This influenced the Queen, and she gave permission for moderate labor if essential to their good, and regular wages. With this permission Ovando paid them the merest pittance, made them labor eight months out of the year, and allowed them to be lashed and starved. When the Spaniards at the mines were eating, the Indians, says Las Casas, would scramble under the table to get the bones which were thrown to them, and, after gnawing them, would pound them up to mix with their bread.

Those who worked in the fields never tasted flesh, but lived on cassava bread and roots. They were brought sometimes eighty leagues away from their homes, and when three months of forced labor were over, they would start homeward to their wives and children. All through the journey they had nothing to sustain them but bread, and not always that, so that they sank down by the hundreds and died along the roadsides. Las Casas, the noble priest, says, “ I have found many dead in the road, others gasping under the trees, and others in the pangs of death, faintly crying, Hunger! hunger!” When they reached their homes the wives and children had usually perished or wandered away, and the desolate husbands sank down at the threshold and died. Many killed themselves to end their sorrows, and mothers killed their own infants rather than that they should be thus treated by the white men.

Whole provinces were wiped out by Ovando through fire and sword. Behechio of Xaragua had died, and Anacaona, his sister, ruled in his place. She was called “The Golden Flower” for her beauty and ability; she composed most of their legendary ballads, and was admired, even by the Spaniards, for her grace and dignity. Iler subjects often had quarrels with some dissolute white men. Ovando resolved to put an end to Xaragua. At the head of three hundred foot-soldiers, besides seventy horsemen and arms, he went professedly on a visit to Anacaona. She came out to meet him with all her leading chiefs, and a great train of women who waved palm branches and sang their national songs. After a feast the Indians took part in games for the pleasure of their visitors.

In return all were invited to the public square, where the Spaniards were to entertain them. The chiefs were all gathered in the house which Ovando had occupied. At a given signal from Ovando—a finger placed on his breast on the image of God the Father — a massacre began; the horsemen trampled the Indians under foot, cleaving the ranks with their swords, set fire to the house where the chiefs were and burned them all, and took Anacaona prisoner, and later hanged her in the presence of the people she had so long befriended. In memory of this great victory Ovando founded a town and called it St. Alary of the True Peace !

When Columbus reached Hispaniola he was filled with sorrow, and wrote to the Queen, “ I am informed that since I left the island six parts out of seven of the natives are dead, all through ill-treatment and inhumanity: some by the sword, others by blows and cruel usage, others through hunger. The greater part have perished in the mountains and glens, whither they had fled from not being able to support the labor imposed upon them.”

Columbus must have remembered sadly that he was the one who first suggested repartimientos, or distributing the labor of the Indians to their taskmasters, that more gold might be sent to the crown, and the idle Spaniards provided with food by the labor of the red men in the fields.

Sad and old and ill, Columbus departed for Spain Sept. 12, 1504, and, after a stormy passage, arrived Nov. 7.

Isabella was on her death-bed. Among her last requests was one that Ovando should be removed from office, which Ferdinand promised her (he was not removed till four years later, since his grinding methods brought a good revenue to the monarch) ; and that Columbus should be restored to his possessions in the Indies, and the poor Indians be kindly treated. Isabella was broken­hearted with the death of her only son, Prince Juan, of her beloved daughter, Isabella, of her grandson and prospective heir, Prince Miguel, and with the insanity of her daughter, Juana, and her unhappy life with Philip of Austria. She died Nov. 26, 1504, at Medina del Campo, in the fifty-fourth year of her age. She wished to be buried without any monument except a plain stone, and so directed in her will.

To Columbus the death of Isabella was a fatal blow. He was now poor, and his rents uncollected in Hispaniola, probably through the connivance of Ovando. He writes to his son Diego at court: “ I live by borrowing. Little have I profited by twenty years of service, with such toils and perils, since at present I do not own a roof in Spain. If I desire to eat or sleep, I have no resort but an inn, and, for the most times, have not where­withal to pay my bill.” Later he said, “I have served their majesties with as much zeal and diligence as if it had been to gain Paradise ; and if I have failed in anything, it has been because my knowledge and powers went no further.”

As the winter passed away and spring came, Columbus became more and more anxious to visit court and lay his neglects before Ferdinand. The use of mules having been prohibited, since by their use the breeding of horses had declined, Columbus on account of his age and infirmities obtained permission to ride upon one as he made this journey to Segovia to see the king.

Ferdinand received him, as Irving says, with “cold, ineffectual smiles,”—he had never apparently any interest in Columbus, — promised that his claims should be left to arbitration, though Las Casas believed that he would have been glad “to have respected few or none of the privileges which he and the queen had conceded to the Admiral, and which had been so justly merited.”

Columbus was now upon his sick-bed, still sending petitions to the king that he would secure the viceroy­ship to his son Diego. Ferdinand asked him to take instead titles and estates in Castile — the New World had by this time become too valuable to Ferdinand to allow any man to be viceroy. This Columbus declined to do.

Finally the Admiral gave up the matter, saying, “ It appears that his majesty does not think fit to fulfil that which he, with the Queen, who is now in glory, promised me by word and seal. For one to contend for the con­trary would be to contend with the wind. I have done all that I could do. I leave the rest to God, whom I have ever found propitious to me in my necessities.”

He died May 20, 1506, about seventy years of age, at Valladolid. His last words were “In manus tuas, Domine, commando spiritum meum: Into thy hands, 0 Lord, I commend my spirit.” He was buried in the convent of St. Francisco at Valladolid, from whence his body was removed in 1513 to the monastery of Las Cuevas at Seville, where the body of his son Diego, second Admiral and Viceroy of the Indies, was buried in 1526. About ten years later the bodies of the two were removed to the cathedral of San Domingo at Hispaniola.

At the close of a war between France and Spain in 1795, the Spanish possessions in Hispaniola were ceded to France. The Spaniards therefore requested that the body of Columbus might be conveyed to Havana. This was readily granted; and Dec. 20, 1795, in the presence of an august gathering, a small vault was opened above the chancel, and the fragments of a leaden coffin and some bones were found, which were put into a small box of gilded lead, and this into a coffin covered with black velvet. The remains were conveyed with great reverence to the ship which was to bear them to Havana, Jan. 15, 1796, where with distinguished military honors they were buried.

In 1877, in the course of some changes in the chancel of the cathedral at San Domingo, two other graves were opened: one, that of the grandson, bearing an inscription, in Spanish, “ El Almirante, D. Luis Colon, Duque de Veragua, Marques de — presumably—Jamaica.” On the other casket were carved the letters C. C. A., probably “ Christoval Colon, Almirante.” Inside the cover was an abbreviated inscription commonly translated, “ The celebrated and extraordinary man, Don Christopher Columbus.”

Within the casket was a small silver plate with the words somewhat abbreviated, “The last remains of the first Admiral, Christopher Columbus, the Discoverer.” A corroded musket-ball was also found in the casket. As the Admiral wrote to the King while on his fourth voyage that his wound had broken out afresh, it is conjectured that a ball was still in his body from some of his early warfare. The authorities at San Domingo believed that the body of the son Diego was removed to Havana, and not that of the Admiral. A German explorer, Rudolf Cronau, gave the matter careful study in 1890, and felt convinced that the authorities at San Domingo were correct in their belief. Dr. Charles Kendall Adams, in his life of Columbus, thinks “the belief will come to prevail that the remains of Columbus are now at San Domingo, and not at Havana.”

After the death of Columbus bis son Diego married Maria, the daughter of Fernando de Toledo, Grand commander of Leon, niece of the celebrated Duke of Alva, chief favorite of the King, and one of the proudest families in Spain.

Diego with his wife, called the vice-queen, his brother Ferdinand, who never married, his two uncles Bartholomew and Diego, and many noble cavaliers came to San Domingo. Like his father, he had continual trouble with the colonists. He tried to do away with repartimientos, but was unable on account of the opposition of the Spaniards. Negro slaves had already been sent from Africa to fill the places of the exterminated Indians.

The King did not give Diego his proper titles, but they were granted after Ferdinand’s death by his grandson and successor, Charles V.

Don Diego at his death, Feb. 23, 1526. left three sons and four daughters. Don Luis, the eldest son, some years later gave up all pretensions to the vice-royalty of the New World, and received instead the titles of Duke of Veragua and Marquis of Jamaica. Having no legitimate son, he was succeeded by his nephew, Diego, son of bis brother Christoval, who died without children in 1578. A lawsuit then arose and was continued for thirty years as to the titles and estates of the great discoverer. The case was finally decided Dec. 2, 1608, in favor of the grandson of Isabel, the daughter of Diego and Maria de Toledo, Don Nuño, or Nugno Gelves de Portugallo, who became Duke of Veragua. The male line becoming extinct, the titles reverted to the line of Francesca, sister of Diego, who inherited the titles from Luis, her uncle. The value of the titles, Air. Winsor says, is said to represent about eight to ten thousand dollars yearly, and is chargeable upon the revenues of Cuba and Porto Rico.

Mr. Winsor thinks the career of Columbus “sadder, perhaps, notwithstanding its glory, than any other mortal presents in profane history.”

How would those last days at Valladolid have been cheered could he have looked forward through four centuries, and seen the New World which he discovered, honoring that discovery and the discoverer with the vast Columbian Exposition! How repaid for all his poverty and sorrow would he have been could he have guessed that even the children in two hemispheres would be taught four hundred years later the story of his life, its perseverance, its courage, and its faith ! He made mistakes, as who does not? but the life of the young Italian wool-comber, studying in every moment of leisure, and asking assistance year after year from crowned heads till he was fifty-six years old, to make his immortal discoveries, will ever be remarkable, and an inspiration for all time to come.