Christopher Columbus: His Life and His Work

by Charles Kendall Adams

On the following day the boats again made a landing,—this time on an island which was named Guadaloupe,—and succeeded in capturing a boy and several women. From these Columbus learned that the inhabitants of the island were in league with the peoples of two other islands, and that this rude confederacy made war on all the rest. Its habit was to go on predatory excursions to neighbouring islands, to make prisoners of the youngest and handsomest of the women as servants and companions, and to capture men and children to be killed and eaten. It was also learned that nearly all the warriors of the island were absent. At the time of the arrival, the king, with three hundred men, was on a cruise in quest of prisoners; the women meantime, being expert archers, were left to defend their homes from invasion.

The fleet was detained for several days by the temporary loss of one of the captains and eight of his men. The commander of one of the caravels had gone on an exploring expedition, and penetrated into the forest with a part of his crew. The night passed without their return, and the greatest apprehensions were felt for their safety. Several parties were sent out in various directions in quest of them; but no tidings could be obtained. It was not until several days had elapsed, and the fleet was about to sail, that, to the joy of all, they made a signal from the shore. Their abject appearance immediately revealed how terribly they had suffered. For days they had wandered about in a vast and trackless forest, climbing mountains, fording streams, utterly bewildered, and almost in despair lest the Admiral, thinking them dead, should set sail and leave them to perish. Notwithstanding the universal joy over their return, the Admiral, with very questionable judgment, put the captain under arrest, and stopped a part of the rations of the other men. As they had strayed away without permission, Columbus thought so gross a breach of discipline should not go unpunished. It seems not to have occurred to him that the penalty had already been inflicted, and that he now had an opportunity to secure the loyalty instead of the enmity of the offenders.

On the 10th of November the Admiral hoisted anchor, and with all on board turned the ships to the northwest for La Navidad. After a few days at one of the intermediate islands, he sent a boat on shore for water and for information. The boat’s crew found a village occupied exclusively by women and children. A few of these were seized and taken on board the ships. In one of the affrays, however, it was learned that the Carib women could ply their bows and arrows with amazing vigour and skill. Though the Spaniards generally covered themselves successfully with their bucklers, two of them were severely wounded. On their return to the ships, a canoe containing Carib women was upset, when, to the amazement of the Spaniards, it was found that the natives could discharge their arrows while swimming, as skilfully as though they had been upon land. One of the arrows thus discharged penetrated quite through a Spanish buckler.

It is difficult to read the original accounts of this expedition without receiving from it a very painful impression. Wherever the Spaniards landed, they must have left a remembrance of bitter enmity. Their inquiries everywhere were for gold, and their exploits were little less or more than the capture of women and children. The natives may have been cannibals indeed; but aside from all question of moral obligation, one cannot overlook the fact that they were capable of animosities, and that in consequence they were in position to help or to hinder the success of the Spanish expedition. It is not easy to understand how, as a matter of policy alone, any course could have been more unwise than that which was pursued.

It was the 22d of November before the fleet arrived off the eastern extremity of Hispaniola. Great excitement prevailed among the crew in anticipation of meeting the colonists at La Navidad. Arriving at the Gulf of Las Flechas, or, as it is now called, Semana Bay, Columbus thought it wise to send ashore one of the Indians whom the year before he had captured at this place and taken with him to Spain. The Indian had been converted to Christianity, and had learned so much of the Spanish language that the Admiral had confident hopes of his rendering important service. The native was gorgeously dressed, and loaded with trinkets with which to make a favourable impression on his countrymen. It is a significant fact that, although he made fair promises of every kind, he was never seen or heard of again. The loss was all the more important as now there was remaining with the fleet only one of the Indians that had been taken to Spain, and there was no certainty that even this one would not escape at the first opportunity.

On the 25th the Admiral cast anchor in the harbour of Monte Christi, desirous of taking further observations about the mouth of the stream which, in the former voyage, he had called the Rio del Oro, or the Golden River. But all the pleasant anticipations of the adventurers now began to be overcast with gloomy forebodings. On the banks they discovered two dead bodies, with arms extended and bound by the wrists to a wooden stake in the form of a cross. Other evidences were not wanting to warrant the fear that some misfortune had befallen Arana and his companions. Two days later, anchors were dropped off the harbour of Navidad. Cannon were fired; but there came back no welcoming response. There was no sign of life,—nothing but a deathlike silence. It was now evident that disaster had overtaken the colony. On the following day the terrible fact was revealed that every member had perished.

The first shock occasioned by this information was, however, slightly alleviated by the friendly bearing of the natives. At first it was feared that there had been treachery on the part of the Indians in whom the Admiral had reposed confidence and friendship; but the accounts given by the natives tended to dispel this fear, and to convince the Spaniards that the colonists had perished from other causes. Some of them, it was said, had died of sickness; some had fallen in quarrels among themselves; and some, having gone to other parts of the island, had taken Indian wives and adopted the customs of the natives. These accounts justified the hope that some of the garrison were yet alive, and might return to the fleet and give an account, not only of the disaster, but also of the interior of the island.

But on going ashore to reconnoitre, Columbus found very little reason for comfort or hope. The fortress was a ruin, the palisades were beaten down, the chests were broken open, the provisions were spoiled,—in short, the whole settlement presented the appearance of having been sacked and destroyed. Here and there were to be found broken utensils and torn garments, but no traces of the garrison were to be seen. Cannon were fired, but no response was awakened, and nothing but a mournful silence reigned over the desolation.

Columbus had ordered Arana, in case of attack or danger, to secrete the treasure in a well; but all their efforts to discover where anything had been concealed were now in vain. It was not until the search had been kept up for several days that even dead bodies were found. Suspicions were revived that there had been treachery on the part of the cacique; but a little exploration resulted in the discovery that the tribal village of that official had also shared in the disaster that had befallen the garrison.

Little by little the general facts of the calamity came to be known. The colony, with the exception of the commander, was made up of men of the lowest order. The list included a considerable number of mariners that were given to every kind of excess and turbulence. Surrounded by savage tribes, they were dependent on the good-will of the natives, as well as on their own prudence and good conduct. Oviedo assures us that they soon fell into every species of wanton abuse. Some were prompted by unrestrained avarice, and some by gross sensuality. Not content with the two or three wives apiece which the good-natured cacique allowed them, they gave themselves up to the most unbridled license with the wives and daughters of the Indians. The natural consequences followed. Fierce brawls ensued over their ill-gotten spoils and the favours of the Indian women. The injunctions of Columbus that they should keep together in the fortress and maintain military order were neglected and forgotten. Many deserted the garrison, and lived at random among the natives. These were gradually formed into groups, to protect themselves and despoil the rest. Violent affrays ensued. One company, under the command of a subordinate officer, set out for the mines of Cibao, of which, from the first, they had heard marvellous accounts. The region to which they went was in the eastern part of the island,—a territory governed by Caonabo, a Carib chieftain famous for his fierce and warlike exploits. He was the hero of the island; and the departure of Columbus gave him an opportunity to rid the country of those who threatened to eclipse his authority. When now his territory was actually invaded, he determined to exterminate the colony. The campaign appears not to have been a long or difficult one. The cacique of the region surrounding La Navidad was faithful to his promises, and fought with the Spaniards against the Carib chieftain. But even their united efforts were unsuccessful. The local cacique, Guacanagari, and his subjects fought faithfully in defence of their guests, but they were soon overpowered. Some of the Spaniards were killed in the struggle, some were driven into the sea and drowned, some were massacred on shore; not a single one was ever heard of again alive.