Christopher Columbus: His Life and His Work

by Charles Kendall Adams

It must not be supposed, however, that the king was ingenuous. On the contrary, he listened with favour to some of the more subtle and sinister suggestions of his courtiers. The proposal that met with most countenance was the advice that they should fit out a strong fleet at once, and despatch it under command of one of the foremost captains of the Portuguese service, to take possession of the newly discovered country before a second Spanish expedition could reach its destination.

After thus passing nine days within the domain of Portugal, Columbus hoisted anchor on the 13th of March, and reached the port of Palos on Friday, the 15th, where he was received with great demonstrations of joy.

By the people of this little Spanish port the expedition had been regarded as chimerical and desperate. But the crews had formed no very small portion of the able-bodied men of the town. Many, therefore, had given up their friends as abandoned to the mysterious horrors with which credulity had always peopled the unknown seas. But now, many of their friends had not only returned, but they brought back accounts of the discovery of a new world. The bells were rung, the shops were closed, business of all kinds was suspended, a solemn procession was formed, and wherever Columbus was observed, he was hailed with acclamations.

The court was at Barcelona. The Admiral at once despatched a letter to the king and queen, announcing his arrival, and informing them that he would await their orders at Seville. Before he departed from Palos, however, an event of great interest occurred. On the very evening of the arrival of Columbus, and while the bells of triumph were still ringing, the “Pinta,” commanded by Martin Alonzo Pinzon, entered the river. The two little vessels had parted company in the terrible storm off the Azores; and each, supposing that the other was lost, by a singular coincidence now, on the same day, reached the port from which they had together set out more than six months before.

The connection of Martin Alonzo Pinzon with the first voyage of Columbus is a subject which has received more or less of the attention of every historian of that remarkable event. Unfortunately, the ending of his career was one that threw an indelible stain upon the credit of his name. The concluding facts of his life may be briefly stated. After parting from the “Nina,” the “Pinta,” driven by the storm far to the north, and finding its way with infinite difficulty into the Bay of Biscay, took refuge in the port of Bayonne. Pinzon seems to have deemed it safe to presume that the “Nina” and all its crew had been lost. Accordingly, he wrote to the monarchs of Spain, announcing the discoveries he had made, and asking permission to wait upon the court and give the particulars in person. As soon as the storm abated, he set out for the port of Palos, evidently anticipating a triumphant entry; but when, on nearing the harbour, he beheld the ship of the Admiral, and heard the joyful acclamations with which Columbus had been received, his heart must have failed him. It is said that he feared to go ashore, lest Columbus should put him under arrest for having deserted him on the coast of Cuba,—at least he landed privately, and kept out of sight till the Admiral had taken his departure for the Spanish court. Deeply dejected, and broken in health, he betook himself to his home, to await the answer to the letter he had written to the king and queen. At length the answer came. It was reproachful in tone, and even forbade the appearance of Pinzon at court. This seemed to complete the humiliation of the old sailor, for he sank rapidly into a species of despair, and a few days later died, the victim of chagrin.

Nevertheless the services that Pinzon rendered to the expedition ought not to go unrecognized. As we have already seen, his generosity had enabled Columbus to offer to defray one eighth of the expense of the expedition. More important still, at the moment when it seemed impossible to recruit, or even conscript, a crew, it was no other than Martin Alonzo Pinzon that came forward as the earnest and successful champion of the expedition. He had been a navigator of distinction, and his wealth, his social rank, and his experience gave him an influence that withstood the tide of prejudice and made the securing of a crew possible. He not only offered to give the enterprise his moral and pecuniary support, but he gave proof of the integrity of his declarations by offering to command one of the vessels in person, while his brother was to command another. It cannot be denied that these were great and important services, without which it would have been far more difficult, if not, indeed, impossible, to put the expedition into sailing condition. But the extent of these services seems to have poisoned his mind in regard to his relations to his chief. During the voyage there were symptoms of an insubordinate spirit. The commission under which the fleet sailed gave to Columbus unquestionable authority; but Pinzon chafed under his restraints, and no sooner had they reached the coast of Cuba than he deserted his commander and undertook a voyage of discovery of his own. The sequel unfortunately showed that in spirit he was not above ignoring entirely the work of Columbus, and arrogating to himself the credit of the discovery.

Columbus, on the other hand, received in answer to his letter of announcement a most gracious reply from the Spanish sovereigns. That he was held in high favour, was shown by the simple form of the letter, which addressed him as “Don Christopher Columbus, our Admiral of the Ocean Sea, and Viceroy and Governor of the Islands discovered in the Indies.” The letter expressed the great satisfaction of the monarchs with his achievement, and requested him not only to repair immediately to court, but also to inform them by return of courier what was to be done on their part to prepare the way immediately for a second expedition. Columbus lost no time in complying with their commands. He sent a memorandum of the ships, munitions, and men needed, and taking the six Indians and various curiosities he had brought with him, set out for an audience at Barcelona.

The fame of the discovery had been noised abroad, and even grossly exaggerated reports of the wonderful curiosities brought back had obtained currency. The people, therefore, everywhere thronged into the streets to get sight of Columbus and of his Indians, as they made the long journey from Palos to the court.

On reaching Barcelona the Admiral found that every preparation had been made to receive him with the most imposing ceremonials. It has been customary to compare his entrance into the city with a Roman triumph. Certainly there was not a little to justify such a comparison. The Indians, painted and decorated in savage fashion, birds and animals of unknown species, rare plants supposed to possess great healing qualities, Indian coronets, bracelets, and other decorations of gold,—all these were paraded and displayed in order to convey an idea of the importance and the wealth of the newly discovered country. At the rear of the train, Columbus, on horseback, was escorted by a brilliant cavalcade of Spanish hidalgos.

The sovereigns had determined to receive him with a stately ceremony worthy of his discovery. Upon a throne specially set up for the purpose the king and queen, with Prince Juan at their side, and surrounded with noble lords and ladies, awaited his coming into their presence. Columbus, also surrounded with a brilliant retinue, entered the hall and approached the throne. Las Casas, who was present, tells us that the Admiral was stately and commanding in person, and that the modest smile that played upon his countenance showed that “he enjoyed the state and glory in which he came.” Though he was probably only forty-eight years of age, his prematurely gray hairs had already given him a venerable appearance. The sovereigns had made it evident that they desired to bestow upon him the admiration and gratitude of the nation. As he approached, they arose and saluted him as if receiving a person of the highest rank. When he was about to kneel, for the purpose of kissing the hands of the sovereigns, in accordance with the conventional ceremonies of that proud court, they ordered him in the most gracious manner to arise, and then to seat himself in their presence.