Christopher Columbus: His Life and His Work

by Charles Kendall Adams

That the new governor might appear with becoming dignity, he was allowed an unusual amount of ostentation. A sumptuous attire of silk brocades and precious stones was prescribed, and he was permitted a body-guard of seventy-two yeomen.

Las Casas accompanied this expedition, and consequently we have the great advantage of his own personal observations. He tells us that a great crowd of adventurers thronged the fleet,—“eager speculators, credulous dreamers, and broken-down gentlemen of desperate fortunes,—all expecting to enrich themselves with little effort.” But it is evident also that there was another class on which greater hopes might reasonably be placed. In the original accounts, significant attention is called to the fact that among those who formed the expedition there were seventy-three married men with their families, all of respectable character. Among those enumerated we notice, not only a chief-justice to replace Roldan, but a physician, a surgeon, and an apothecary,—in short, persons of all ranks that seemed to be necessary for the supply and the development of the island.

That the sovereigns were not unmindful of the rights of Columbus, was evinced by the provisions made for the protection of his interests. Ovando was ordered to examine into all the accounts, for the purpose of ascertaining the amount of the damages Columbus had suffered. All the property belonging to the Admiral that had been confiscated by Bobadilla was to be restored, and the same care was to be taken of the interests of the Admiral’s brothers. Not only were the arrears of the revenues to be paid, but they were also to be secured for the future. To this end Columbus was permitted to have an agent present at the smelting and the working of the gold, in order that his own rights might be duly protected.

But notwithstanding these evidences of royal favour, the Admiral was much depressed in spirit. In the course of the long months during which he was condemned to wait for the final action of the sovereigns, he had much time for reflection; and it is not singular that his thoughts turned to his long-neglected scheme for the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre. From the years of his early manhood, the desirability of such an act had held possession of his soul. It was characteristic of his immoderate ardour that he even recorded a vow that within seven years from the time of the discovery he would furnish fifty thousand foot soldiers and four thousand horse for the accomplishment of this purpose. The time had elapsed, and the vow remained unfulfilled. It had not, however, passed out of his remembrance; and he now appealed to the monarchs to take the matter up as a national enterprise. The war with Granada had come to a victorious end; the Duke of Medina Sidonia had given new lustre to the Spanish name in Italy; the Spanish armies were now at leisure; Ferdinand and Isabella were firm supporters of the Church: and what could be more appropriate than that they should now prove their superior devotion and power by the vigorous presecution of an enterprise that had baffled the efforts of united Christendom for more than two centuries? The visionary element in the mind of Columbus was never more plainly revealed.

These dreamy speculations and importunities, however, were only temporary in their nature. The mind of the explorer soon reverted to more practical affairs. It was spurred on in this direction and in that by the successes of Portuguese explorers in the East. Vasco da Gama had shown that navigation beyond the Cape of Good Hope was practicable, and Pedro Cabral had not only gone as far as the marts of Hindostan, but had returned with ships laden with precious commodities of infinite variety. The discoveries in the West had thus far brought no return; and yet, according to every theory that Columbus had entertained, the islands he had discovered were only the border-land—only the fringe, so to speak—of that vast Eastern region that was flaming with Oriental gold. There must be a passage from the west that opened into the Indian Sea. The coast of Paria stretched on toward the west, the southern coast of Cuba extended in the same direction, and the currents of the Caribbean Sea seemed to indicate that at some point still farther west there was a strait that connected the waters of the Atlantic and the Indian Ocean. To discover such a passage was an ambition worthy even of the lofty spirits of Columbus. He believed that somewhere west or southwest of the lands he had discovered such a strait would be found; and it was to find such a passage that he resolved to undertake a fourth voyage.

Columbus appears to have remained at Granada with the court from December of 1499 until late in the year 1501. He then repaired to Seville, where he was able within a few months to fit out an exploring squadron of four ships. The insignificant size of vessels of those days may be inferred from the fact that, according to Fernando, the largest of the ships was of seventy tons’ burden, and the smallest of fifty. The crew consisted of one hundred and fifty men and boys, among whom were the Admiral’s brother, Don Bartholomew, and his son Fernando, the historian.

There were long and unaccountable delays, and the fleet did not sail from Cadiz before the 9th of May, 1502. Stopping for further supplies at St. Catherine’s and Arzilla, as well as at the Grand Canary and Martinique, it was not until the 25th that the westward voyage for the Indies was fairly begun. The first design was to go directly to the coast of Paria; but although the voyage was an unusually smooth one, Columbus, declaring one of the vessels to be unseaworthy, or at least to be in great need of repairs, decided to make for St. Domingo in order to effect an exchange of vessels. This port was safely reached before the end of June; but the object of his coming was destined to be speedily frustrated.

To avoid the consequences of a surprise, Columbus had taken the precaution to send one of his captains with despatches to inform Ovando of his approach and the nature of his errand. Besides referring to the condition of one of the ships, he begged the privilege of temporary shelter for his fleet. Columbus himself, in his letter, says nothing of any motive, excepting his desire to purchase a vessel to take the place of the one that had become disabled; but Fernando attributes to him the additional purpose of securing shelter from a violent storm which he saw to be impending. According to his son’s doubtful authority, the Admiral even ventured to advise that the departure of the fleet about to sail for Spain, with the treasures that Bobadilla had collected, should be delayed until the coming storm was past. Columbus himself, however, never made any such claim. But no part of the message was of any avail. It was evident that the new commander, Ovando, who had now been several months in power, was not free from ill-will toward the Admiral. Las Casas is of the opinion that he had received secret instructions from the sovereigns not to admit the Admiral to the island. It seems certain that at that time San Domingo abounded with enemies of Columbus, and the decision may have been reached simply by considerations of prudence. The hospitality of the harbour was refused, and the outgoing fleet of eighteen sail was not detained.

Denied the privilege of the harbour, Columbus drew his little fleet up under the shelter of the island. On the last day of June a terrible hurricane broke upon them. The vessels were torn from their moorings, and driven apart into the wide sea. Each of the ships lost sight of the others, and each supposed that all the others were lost. The fury of the winds and waves continued throughout many days and nights; and such was the raging tumult of the elements that it seemed impossible for a single vessel to escape. By what was considered a miraculous interposition of Providence, however, all the ships of Columbus out-rode the storm. The fact that the “unseaworthy” vessel survived with the others, gives colour to the suspicion that the claim of unseaworthiness was only a pretence for the purpose of getting access to the port. The vessel which the Admiral commanded was driven as far as Jamaica; and if we may believe the sweeping and unqualified language of the Admiral, “during sixty days there was no cessation of the tempest, which was one continuation of rain, thunder, and lightning.” In this same connection Columbus writes to the sovereigns: “Eighty-eight days did this fearful tempest continue, during which I was at sea, and saw neither sun nor stars. My ships lay exposed, with sails torn; and anchors, cables, rigging, boats, and a great quantity of provisions were lost. My people were very weak and humbled in spirit, many of them promising to lead a religious life, and all making vows and promising to perform pilgrimages, while some of them would frequently go to their messmates to make confession. Other tempests have been experienced, but never of so long a duration or so fearful as this.”

But if the Admiral was finally successful in bringing the shattered remains of his fleet together, it was not until the 12th of September that they reached the place of safety and promise to which the commander gave the name Gracios à Dios. It was far otherwise with the larger squadron. The commander, after refusing to heed the predictions of the Admiral, had just set out for Spain. On board were Bobadilla and Roldan, as well as the others that had taken a prominent part in accusing Columbus, and securing his arrest and imprisonment. The vessels were also laden with so much gold and other articles of value as a relentless avarice and cruelty could bring together to justify the administration. The details of the disaster have not been preserved. All that we know is that of the eighteen vessels only four escaped complete destruction. Every important personage on board the fleet was lost. Of the four less unfortunate ships, three were in such a shattered condition that they were obliged to return to San Domingo, while only one, “The Needle,” was able to make its way to Spain. To the unquestioning religious faith of the time, the proof of providential direction was made complete by the singular fact that the gold on board “The Needle,” the poorest vessel of the fleet, was the portion that belonged to Columbus. Las Casas regards the event as a signal example of those awful judgments with which Providence sometimes overwhelms those who have incurred divine displeasure.