It was an ill moment for the navigator's fortune. Castille and Leon were in the thick of that struggle which resulted in the final defeat of the Moors; and neither Ferdinand nor Isabella had time to listen. The adventurer was indeed kindly received; he was handed over to the care of Alonzo de Quintanilla, whom he speedily converted into an enthusiastic supporter of his theory. He made knowledge without a struggle. Columbus argued his point, but was overwhelmed with Biblical texts, with quotations from the great divines, with theological objections, and in a short time the junta was adjourned. Señor Rodriguez Pinilla, the learned Salamantine writer, holds that the first refusal of Columbus' project was made in the official council at Cordova. In 1489, Columbus, who had been following the court from place to place (billeted in towns as an officer of the King and gratified from time to time with sums of money toward his expenses), was present at the siege of Malaga. In 1490 the junta decided that his project was vain and impracticable, and that it did not become their Highnesses to have anything to do with it; and this was confirmed, with some reservation, by their Highnesses themselves, at Seville.
Columbus was now in despair. So reduced in circumstances was he that (according to the eminent Spanish statesman and orator, Emilio Castelar) he was jocularly and universally termed "the stranger with the threadbare coat." He at once betook himself to Huelva, where his brother-in-law resided, with the intention of taking ship to France. He halted, however, at Palos, a little maritime town in Andalusia. At the Monastery of Santa Maria de la Rábida[2] he knocked and asked for bread and water for his boy Diego, and presently got into conversation with Fray Juan Perez de Marchena, the prior, who invited him to take up his quarters in the monastery, and introduced him to Garci Fernandez, a physician and an ardent student of geography. To these good men did Columbus propound his theory and explain his plan. Juan Perez had been the Queen's confessor; he wrote to her and was summoned to her presence, and money was sent to Columbus to bring him once more to court. He reached Granada in time to witness the surrender of the city by the Moors, and negotiations were resumed. Columbus believed in his mission, and stood out for high terms; he asked the rank of admiral at once, the vice-royalty of all he should discover, and a tenth of all the gain, by conquest or by trade. These conditions were rejected, and the negotiations were again interrupted. An interview with Mendoza appears to have followed, but nothing came of it, and in January, 1492, Columbus actually set out for France. At length, however, on the entreaty of Luis de Santangel, receiver of the ecclesiastical revenues of the crown of Aragon, Isabella was induced to determine on the expedition. A messenger was sent after Columbus, and overtook him at the Bridge of Piños, about two leagues from Granada. He returned to the camp at Santa Fé, and on April 17, 1492, the agreement between him and their Catholic Majesties was signed and sealed. This agreement being familiarly known in Spanish history as "The Capitulations of Santa Fé."
His aims were nothing less than the discovery of the marvelous province of Cipango and the conversion to Christianity of the Grand Khan, to whom he received a royal and curious blank letter of introduction. The town of Palos was, by forced levy, as a punishment for former rebellion, ordered to find him three caravels, and these were soon placed at his disposal. But no crews could be got together, Columbus even offering to throw open the jails and take all criminals and broken men who would serve on the expedition; and had not Juan Perez succeeded in interesting Martin Alonzo Pinzon and Vicente Yañez Pinzon in the cause, Columbus' departure had been long delayed. At last, however, men, ships, and stores were ready. The expedition consisted of the Gallega, rechristened the Santa Maria, a decked ship, with a crew of fifty men, commanded by the Admiral in person; and of two caravels—the Pinta, with thirty men, under Martin Pinzon, and the Niña, with twenty-four men, under his brother, Vicente Yañez Pinzon, afterward (1499) the first to cross the line in the American Atlantic. The adventurers numbered 120 souls, and on Friday, August 3, 1492, at 8 in the morning, the little fleet weighed anchor and stood out for the Canary Islands, sailing as it were "into a world unknown—the corner-stone of a nation."
Deeply significant was one incident of their first few days' sail. Emilio Castelar tells us that these barks, laden with bright promises for the future, were sighted by other ships, laden with the hatreds and rancors of the past, for it chanced that one of the last vessels transporting into exile the Jews, expelled from Spain by the religious intolerance of which the recently created and odious Tribunal of the Faith was the embodiment, passed by the little fleet bound in search of another world, where creation should be newborn, a haven be afforded to the quickening principle of human liberty, and a temple be reared to the God of enfranchised and redeemed consciences.
An abstract of the Admiral's diary made by the Bishop Las Casas is yet extant; and from it many particulars may be gleaned concerning this first voyage. Three days after the ships had set sail the Pinta lost her rudder. The Admiral was in some alarm, but comforted himself with the reflection that Martin Pinzon was energetic and ready-witted; they had, however, to put in (August 9th) at Teneriffe to refit the caravel. On September 6th they weighed anchor once more with all haste, Columbus having been informed that three Portuguese caravels were on the lookout for him. On September 13th the variations of the magnetic needle were for the first time observed;[3] and on the 15th a wonderful meteor fell into the sea at four or five leagues distance. On the 16th they arrived at those vast plains of seaweed called the Sargasso Sea; and thenceforward, writes the Admiral, they had most temperate breezes, the sweetness of the mornings being most delightful, the weather like an Andalusian April, and only the song of the nightingale wanting. On the 17th the men began to murmur. They were frightened by the strange phenomena of the variations of the compass, but the explanation Columbus gave restored their tranquillity. On the 18th they saw many birds and a great ridge of low-lying cloud, and they expected to see land. On the 20th they saw two pelicans, and they were sure the land must be near. In this, however, they were disappointed, and the men began to be afraid and discontented; and thenceforth Columbus, who was keeping all the while a double reckoning—one for the crew and one for himself—had great difficulty in restraining the men from the excesses which they meditated. On the 25th Alonzo Pinzon raised the cry of land, but it proved a false alarm; as did the rumor to the same effect on October 7th, when the Niña hoisted a flag and fired a gun. On the 11th the Pinta fished up a cane, a log of wood, a stick wrought with iron, and a board, and the Niña sighted a branch of hawthorne laden with ripe luscious berries, "and with these signs all of them breathed and were glad." At 8 o'clock on that night, Columbus perceived and pointed out a light ahead,[4] Pedro Gutierrez also seeing it; and at 2 in the morning of Friday, October 12, 1492, Rodrigo de Triana, a sailor aboard the Niña, a native of Seville, announced the appearance of what proved to be the New World.[5] The land sighted was an island called by the Indians Guanahani, and named by Columbus San Salvador.[6]
The same morning Columbus landed, richly clad, and bearing the royal banner of Spain. He was accompanied by the brothers Pinzon, bearing banners of the Green Cross, a device of his own, and by great part of the crew. When they had all "given thanks to God, kneeling down upon the shore, and kissed the ground with tears of joy, for the great mercy received," the Admiral named the island, and took solemn possession of it for their Catholic Majesties of Castille and Leon. At the same time such of the crews as had shown themselves doubtful and mutinous sought his pardon weeping, and prostrated themselves at his feet. Had Columbus kept the course he laid on leaving Ferrol, says Castelar, his landfall would have been in the Florida of to-day, that is, upon the main continent; but, owing to the deflection suggested by the Pinzons, and tardily accepted by him, it was his hap to strike an island, very fair to look upon, but small and insignificant when compared with the vast island-world in whose waters he was already sailing.
Into the details of this voyage, of highest interest as it is, it is impossible to go further. The letter of Columbus, hereinafter printed, gives further and most interesting details. It will be enough to say here that it resulted in the discovery of the islands of Santa Maria del Concepcion, Exuma, Isabella, Juana or Cuba, Bohio, the Cuban Archipelago (named by its finder the Jardin del Rey), the island of Santa Catalina, and that of Española, now called Haiti or San Domingo. Off the last of these the Santa Maria went aground, owing to the carelessness of the steersman. No lives were lost, but the ship had to be unloaded and abandoned; and Columbus, who was anxious to return to Europe with the news of his achievement, resolved to plant a colony on the island, to build a fort out of the material of the stranded hulk, and to leave the crew. The fort was called La Navidad; forty-three Europeans were placed in charge, including the Governor Diego de Arana; two lieutenants, Pedro Gutierrez and Rodrigo de Escobedo; an Irishman named William Ires (? Harris), a native of Galway; an Englishman whose name is given as Tallarte de Lajes,[7] and the remainder being Spaniards.
On January 16, 1493, Columbus, who had lost sight of Martin Pinzon, set sail alone in the Niña for the east; and four days afterward the Pinta joined her sister ship off Monte Christo. A storm, however, separated the vessels, during which (according to Las Casas) Columbus, fearing the vessel would founder, cast his duplicate log-book, which was written on parchment and inclosed in a cake of wax, inside a barrel, into the sea. The log contained a promise of a thousand ducats to the finder on delivering it to the King of Spain. Then a long battle with the trade winds caused great delay, and it was not until February 18th that Columbus reached the Island of Santa Maria in the Azores. Here he was threatened with capture by the Portuguese governor, who could not for some time be brought to recognize his commission. On February 24th, however, he was allowed to proceed, and on March 4th the Niña dropped anchor off Lisbon. The King of Portugal received the Admiral with the highest honors; and on March 13th the Niña put out from the Tagus, and two days afterward, Friday, March 15th, dropped anchor off Palos.
The court was at Barcelona, and thither, after dispatching a letter[8] announcing his arrival, Columbus proceeded in person. He entered the city in a sort of triumphal procession, and was received by their Majesties in full court, and, seated in their presence, related the story of his wanderings, exhibiting the "rich and strange" spoils of the new-found lands—the gold, the cotton, the parrots, the curious arms, the mysterious plants, the unknown birds and beasts, and the nine Indians he had brought with him for baptism. All his honors and privileges were confirmed to him; the title of Don was conferred on himself and his brothers; he rode at the King's bridle; he was served and saluted as a grandee of Spain. And, greatest honor of all, a new and magnificent escutcheon was blazoned for him (May 4, 1493), whereon the royal castle and lion of Castille and Leon were combined with the four anchors of his own old coat of arms. Nor were their Catholic Highnesses less busy on their own account than on that of their servant. On May 3d and 4th, Alexander VI. granted bulls confirming to the crowns of Castille and Leon all the lands discovered,[9] or to be discovered, beyond a certain line of demarcation, on the same terms as those on which the Portuguese held their colonies along the African coast. A new expedition was got in readiness with all possible dispatch to secure and extend the discoveries already made.