The preparing of these papers took some time. Columbus had returned to Granada in late December, 1491, and it was not until April 17 the following year that "the greatest paper monarch ever put pen to" was signed. The fact that it refers to discoveries already made and discoveries to be made in the Ocean Sea is our strongest reason for believing that the pilot's story had been laid before the sovereigns. Christopher's long years of uncertainty were ended; the man's great perseverance had won out at last; and the weary petitioner who, some months before, had ridden doubtingly forth from La Rabida now rode back, bursting with joy, to fall on the good prior's neck and weep out his gratitude.
CHAPTER VIII
OFF AT LAST!
Oddly enough, the ships Columbus was to take on his voyage were, according to royal command, to be supplied by that very seaport of Palos by which he is supposed to have entered Spain. Palos, Huelva, and Moguer, all thriving maritime cities in Columbus's day, are grouped at the mouth of the Rio Tinto. Tinto means deep-colored, like wine; and as this river flows through the richest copper region in the whole world, it is not surprising that its waters are reddish, nor that the copper trade enriched the neighboring towns. How the now unimportant Palos at the mouth of the Rio Tinto came to be chosen as the seaport from which Columbus should embark is an amusing story.
Some time before, its inhabitants had, through disobedience or some other offense, incurred the displeasure of their sovereigns. By way of punishment, the Crown ordered that Palos should fit out two caravels at its own expense and lend them to the government for a year whenever the government should call for them. The royal intention was, no doubt, to use the boats against Naples and Sicily, which they hoped to conquer after finishing the Moorish war. But when they decided finally to help Columbus, they remembered the punishment due Palos, and called upon it to give the two caravels to "Cristobal Colon, our captain, going into certain parts of the Ocean Sea on matters pertaining to our service."
Thus while Ferdinand and Isabella meant to punish the little town, they instead conferred a great honor upon it. Little did Columbus dream, the day on which he and his boy approached it so empty-handed five years before, that he was to make it forever famous. Palos to-day is a miserably poor, humble little place; but its people, especially the Pinzon family who still live there, are very proud that it was the starting-point of the momentous voyage of discovery; and hundreds of tourists visit it who never know that the sovereigns had intended punishing, instead of glorifying, the port.
In May, 1492, however, when Columbus returned from Granada, the Palos inhabitants did not see any glory at all! They saw nothing but the heavy penalty. Not only did this royal command mean that every citizen of Palos must furnish money to buy the ships and pay the crew, it meant that the ships and crew would never come back again from the "Sea of Darkness"! An expedition through the well-known Mediterranean to Sicily or Naples would have seemed like a pleasure trip compared with the terrifying one now contemplated! They were handing over the equipment to a madman! Poor little Palos was filled with misgiving, and we may be sure that Columbus, as he passed through the streets, was looked upon as the common enemy.
The royal decree ordered Palos to have its contribution ready in ten days; meanwhile, a third caravel was to be bought; but so violently were the people of Palos opposed to the enterprise that not a single ship- owner would sell his vessel. Another difficulty was to get a crew of experienced seamen. With very few exceptions, sailors were afraid to go out on the unexplored Atlantic Ocean beyond the Azores. Spanish sailors had not had the excellent schooling of those in Portugal, where, for seventy years or more, expeditions had been going out to discover new lands and coming back safely.
Columbus, therefore, found it difficult to induce the sea-going men of Palos to share his enthusiasm. This difficulty of getting a crew together must have been foreseen at court, for the royal secretary issued an order intended to help Columbus, but which instead hurt his cause and proved most unwise. The curious order in question was to the effect that all criminals who would sign for the expedition would be "privileged from arrest or further imprisonment for any offense or crime committed by them up to this date, and during the time they might be on the voyage, and for two months after their return from the voyage."
To criminals, apparently, being devoured by monsters rimming the western Atlantic appeared a better fate than languishing in a cruel Spanish prison, for the first men who enlisted were from this class. A more unfortunate method of recruiting a crew could hardly be imagined. Such men were undesirable, not only because of their lawless character, but also because they had never before sailed on a ship; and the more this class rallied to the front, the more the respectable sailors of Palos, Moguer, Huelva, and other adjacent towns hung back. To go forth into the unknown was bad enough; to go there in the society of malefactors was even worse.