Christopher Columbus: His Life and His Work

by Charles Kendall Adams

For a knowledge of the explorations of Columbus during the fourth voyage we are indebted to a very elaborate letter of the Admiral himself, and to the accounts by Fernando, Las Casas, and Porras, all of whom were, at the time, either with the Admiral or at San Domingo. The accounts do not agree in all particulars, but essentially they are not unlike. As to the general course of the expedition, and the reasons for the course taken, there is substantial agreement.

At the end of the succession of storms in the autumn of 1502 Columbus found himself among the islands south of Cuba. The way was now open for the prosecution of the design which had led to the organization of the expedition. He was in search of an open passage. His idea, of course, could not have been very clearly defined; for he still believed that the islands he had already visited were only the remote edge of the Asiatic continent. As yet he had no reason for definite belief as to whether Cuba was an island or was a part of the mainland; though, as we have already seen, he had once required his crew to swear on their return that it was the mainland, under penalty of having their tongues wrenched out in case of disobedience. As his purpose now was avowedly that of an explorer pure and simple, it would seem that three ways were clearly open to him. He had already in his second voyage made himself sufficiently familiar with eastern Cuba to know that whether an island or a part of the mainland, it was a vast projection into the east; and he must have inferred that its relations with the regions beyond could most easily and naturally be ascertained by sailing in a westerly direction, either along the northern or along the southern coast. The other course open to him was a bold push for new regions by sailing into the open sea to the southwest. The obvious disadvantage of this course was the fact that whatever might be discovered, the relations of the new regions to those already explored would still be involved in mystery. Whether Cuba were an island or a part of the continent, could not in this way be determined. In the way of promised advantages, moreover, this direction would seem to have held out no greater inducements than either of the others. If he had sailed along the northern coast of Cuba, he would have determined the fact of its insularity, and then would have been free to explore farther for the mainland. But the more promising course was on the other side of the island; for in this way the source of the currents, on which the navigator placed so much reliance, could have been traced,—or at least it could have been determined whether the phenomenal flow of waters originated, as Columbus supposed, in an open strait. The least promising course of all was the abandonment of Cuba and the striking out of an independent course to the southwest; for when land should be reached, there could be no determination whether the new coast had any connection with the land already discovered, and it would still be undetermined whether the strait for which he was searching, if it existed at all, lay to the east or to the west of the new landfall. But this least promising course was the one Columbus determined to take. It was a great blunder, for which no good reason has ever been given.

Sailing in a southwesterly direction, the storms still continuing, he at length approached the mainland at a small island which he called the Isle of Pines. He then turned to the east, and in a few days reached the coast of Honduras. After waiting for a short time to trade with the natives, he kept on his way in the same general direction, in the face of a stormy current and violent winds. It was not until the 14th of September that they rounded the cape which in thankfulness to God he named Cape Gracios à Dios. At this point the current divided, a part flowing west, and a part south. Taking advantage of the latter, they proceeded down the Mosquito coast without difficulty. On the 25th of September they came to an inviting spot which he called the “Garden.” The natives seemed more intelligent than any Columbus had yet seen. In order that he might have a supply of interpreters, the Admiral seized seven of them, two of whom he retained by force even when, October 5, he sailed away. This forcible detention was greatly resented by the tribe, but the prayers of the emissaries sent for their release had no effect.

Pushing still farther south and east, the Spaniards came in about ten days to Caribaro Bay. The natives, who wore gold plates as ornaments, were defiant, and expressed their unwelcoming mood by blasts upon conch-shells and the brandishing of spears. The Spanish lombards, however, soon brought them to a more submissive spirit. A little farther along, the vessels came to Varagua, a territory lying just west of the Isthmus of Darien. Here the Admiral heard glowing accounts of gold not far away. His interpreters told him that ten days inland the natives revelled in the precious metals and all other valuable commodities. Had he listened and obeyed, he would have discovered the Pacific. But, for once, he turned a deaf ear to the allurement, and so lost his opportunity. That the natives hinted at the great waters beyond the isthmus, is plain from the words of Columbus. He says: “They say that the sea surrounds Cuguare, and that ten days’ journey from thence is the river Ganges.”

His farther voyage south brought no important results. The ships were worm-eaten, and the crew were clamorous for the gold of Varagua. On the 5th of December Columbus decided reluctantly to retrace his course. By one of those singular adversities of fortune, the winds which had hitherto blown strongly from the east now veered and blew as strongly from the west. Gale after gale followed. Columbus called it the “Coast of Contrasts.” The situation of the navigators became all the more desperate through the horrors of impending famine. Worms had made their bread revolting, and the crew were driven to catch sharks for food.

For weeks the violence of the storms continued. In attempting to make their way back, a full month was taken up by the Spaniards in passing a hundred miles. The whole winter was consumed without important results. At Varagua earnest hopes were entertained that the long-sought, but ever-elusive gold-fields were at length to be found. Columbus says that he saw more indications of gold in two days than he had seen in Hispaniola in four years; he therefore decided upon a settlement, and began to build houses. Eighty members of the crew were to be left to establish a permanent footing.

But misfortune succeeded misfortune. The natives began to organize for the purpose of making such a settlement impossible. In one of their conflicts the cacique, known as the Quibian, was taken prisoner by the Adelantado. He was intrusted to the care of a Spanish officer, who imprudently yielded to the chief’s persuasions to remove his shackles. The consequence was that in an unguarded moment the cacique sprang over the side of the boat and dived to the bottom. The night was dark, and as he came to the surface he was not detected. Columbus believed him drowned; but it soon appeared that he had reached the shore and organized so formidable an opposition to the settlement as to place the colony in extreme peril.

Provisions and ammunition now began to run short. The Admiral was tortured with gout, and this was followed by a fever. While affairs were in this condition a portion of the prisoners threw open a hatchway, and, thrusting the guards aside, plunged into the sea and escaped. Those who had failed to get away were thrust back into the hold; but in the morning it was found that they had all committed suicide by hanging. The resolute spirit thus shown was a sad foreboding of disaster. The sea was so rough that for days there could be no communication between the Admiral on ship and the Adelantado on shore. When at length a brave swimmer succeeded in reaching the land, he found a portion of Bartholomew’s force in revolt. The mutineers formed a plan to desert the commander and effect an escape to the ships. There was nothing to do but to rescue the colony, if possible, and abandon the coast.

When affairs appeared to be in a most hopeless condition, the tempest abated, and fair weather came on. One of the caravels, however, had been stranded and wrecked. In order to bring off the stores and the colony, a raft was constructed, and after long effort the survivors were rescued and taken aboard the remaining vessels. One of these, however, proved to be so much worm-eaten and otherwise disabled that it had to be abandoned. Taking the scanty stores into the two remaining caravels, the adventurers now turned their prows toward Hispaniola.

The course of the vessels, however, in order to meet the strong westerly currents, was eastward. The crew were thrown into consternation by the thought that the Admiral, notwithstanding the unseaworthy condition of the ships, was making for Spain. But Columbus had no such purpose. His design was to zigzag his course in such a manner that none of the crew could find the way back to the gold coast. He says that he remembered how a former crew had returned to the pearl-fisheries of Paria; and he now wrote: “None of them can explain whither I went, nor whence I came. They do not know the way to return thither.”