We have already had occasion to see that Columbus never attached very great importance to the matter of precision in the statement of fact. The recent scrutiny to which his writings have been subjected has revealed so many contradictions and inaccuracies that we are forced into the belief that he often used words in a very general rather than in a specific and strictly accurate sense. We shall not infrequently have occasion to note this habit of mind,—a peculiarity which it will be necessary to remember if we would form an accurate conclusion as to the value of his testimony. He seems not to have been without conscience; but it is not too much to say that whenever there was a powerful motive for misrepresentation, Columbus did not hesitate to ask himself whether the end would not justify the means. The modern ethical standard, which requires absolute truthfulness at all hazards, did not prevail at the end of the fifteenth century; but it is not without much regret that even at that period we find one whom we would gladly rank as a moral hero admitting frankly that he systematically prevaricated in order to convey a false impression. If, on the one hand, there are those who will succeed in finding adequate excuse for the misrepresentation indulged in, on the other it will be hard to find any one who will regard such misrepresentation as a characteristic of lofty conscientiousness.
In the journal of September 9 we find this entry:—
“Sailed this day nineteen leagues, and determined to count less than the true number, that the crew might not be dismayed if the voyage should prove long.”
On the following day Columbus says,—
“This day and night sailed sixty leagues, at the rate of ten miles an hour, which are two leagues and a half. Reckoned only forty-eight leagues, that the crew might not be terrified if they should be long upon the voyage.”
In the days following, similar entries were made, always with the same end in view. Interesting evidences of life were often observed. On the 13th of September one of the crew saw a tropical bird, which, it was believed, never goes farther than twenty-five leagues from land. On the 16th large patches of weed were found which appeared to have been recently washed away from land; on account of which the Admiral writes that “they judged themselves to be near some island;” “the continent,” continues the narrator, “we shall find farther ahead.” These indications multiplied from day to day. On the 18th the “Pinta,” which, notwithstanding her bad condition, was a swift sailer, ran ahead of the other vessels, the captain having informed the Admiral that he had seen large flocks of birds toward the west, and that he expected that night to reach land. Though as yet they had only reached the centre of the Atlantic, on the 19th the ships were visited by two pelicans,—birds which, it was said, were not accustomed to go twenty leagues from land. On the 21st the ocean seemed to be covered with weeds; and the same day a whale was seen,—“an indication of land,” says the journal, “as whales always keep near the coast.” The next day a wind sprang up, whereupon the Admiral observes: “This head-wind was very necessary to me, for my crew had grown much alarmed, dreading that they never should meet in these seas with a fair wind to return to Spain.”
On September 25 the disappointing monotony of these indications was interrupted. At sunset Pinzon called out from his vessel that he saw land. The Admiral says, when he heard him declare this, he fell down on his knees and returned thanks to God. Pinzon and his crew repeated “Gloria in excelsis Deo,” as did the crew of the Admiral. Those on board the “Nina” ascended the rigging, and all declared that they saw land. The Admiral judged that the land was distant about twenty-five leagues. It was not until the afternoon of the 26th that they discovered that what they had taken for land was nothing but clouds.
As revealed by the journal, the events of each day were much like those of every other. The most striking feature of the voyage was the constantly occurring indications of land. After the little fleet passed mid-ocean there was scarcely a day that did not bring some sign that beckoned them on. Seaweed abounded, and as a sounding of two hundred fathoms revealed nothing but a steady undercurrent of the ocean, the weeds could not have come from the bottom of the sea. At one time a green rush was found, which, the commanders thought, must have grown in the open air, with its roots in the soil. At another, a piece of wood was taken aboard that gave unmistakable signs of having been somewhat curiously wrought by the hand of man. But the most significant tokens were the birds. They appeared in considerable numbers almost, if not quite, every day, many of them known to be unaccustomed to wander for any very great distance from land. To every thinking man on board the squadron they seemed to give evidence absolutely unmistakable that they were not far from land, and that the object of their expedition was likely to be successful. The birds, moreover, so far as any general direction of their flying could be regarded as an indication, seemed to have their home in a southwesterly direction. This fact led the commander of the “Pinta” to urge the Admiral to change his course. At first Columbus thought it best, in spite of the course of the birds, to keep on due west. But at length the indications were so unmistakable and so persistent that he yielded, and set the rudders for a southwesterly course. But for this incident, seemingly very trifling in itself, the fleet, as Humboldt has remarked, would have entered the Gulf Stream before touching land, and would have been borne to a landfall somewhere on the coast of the future United States.
Many of the later historians of Columbus, taking the hint from Oviedo, have given graphic pictures of the way in which the skill and the tact of the Admiral prevented the crew of the fleet from breaking out into mutinous revolt and turning the vessels toward home. It has been said that at one time there was a serious purpose of throwing the Admiral into the sea, and declaring that he fell overboard while making an observation; at another, that Columbus found himself compelled to promise that unless land was discovered within three days, he would abandon the expedition, turn about, and sail for home. But these stories must now, for the most part, be regarded as apocryphal. None of them are mentioned by Columbus himself, nor do they appear in the other early accounts of the voyage. No hint of mutiny or even of any lack of due subordination appears in the searching trials of 1513 and 1515, when every event that could possibly have a bearing upon the methods of Columbus was brought upon the witness-stand. As a matter of fact, the voyage was for the most part an uneventful one, save as its placid progress was occasionally excited by the variations of the compass, an unusual amount of seaweed, or an unwonted flight of birds. That the hopes and fears of the crews were alert cannot of course be doubted, but there is no evidence sufficient to justify the belief that the life of the Admiral or the advance of the expedition was ever in serious danger.
In the evening of the 11th of October, Columbus thought that he discovered a light moving with fitful gleams in the darkness. He called to him two of his companions, one of whom confirmed his impression, while the other could not. The journal says that “The Admiral again perceived it once or twice, appearing like the light of a candle moving up and down, which some thought an indication of land.” But evidently Columbus did not regard this as a discovery, for he not only reminded the crew of the reward of a pension that awaited the one who should first see land, but he also offered a silk doublet as an additional inducement to the search. They were still some forty-two miles from the coast, which lies so low that it could hardly have been seen at a distance of twenty. It was four hours later that land was first unmistakably seen in the moonlight, at a distance of about two leagues. There can be no question that if a light was really seen at all, it was on a boat at some distance from the shore. A reward of ten thousand maravedis per year had been promised by the king and queen to the person on the expedition who should first descry land. Columbus in his journal admits that land was first seen and announced by Rodrigo de Triana of the “Pinta” at two o’clock on the morning of October 12th; and it would be a pleasure to record that he subsequently had sufficient magnanimity to waive his own very absurd claim in favour of the poor sailor to whom it was so justly due. But after his return he set up the demand for himself; and to him it was promptly adjudged and paid by the king and queen. It is said that the poor sailor, thinking himself ignobly defrauded, renounced Christianity and went to live among the Mohammedans, whom he regarded as a juster people.