One circumstance is related, which all who read this story would wish to have otherwise. I have spoken of the improper conduct of Pinzon, the commander of the Pinta, while in Hispaniola, in leaving Columbus. From the violence of the gale, which separated him from the Nina, he had some reason to conclude that she was lost, just as Columbus supposed the Pinta was lost. But, instead of waiting to ascertain whether this was a fact, Pinzon, on putting into port, sent a letter to the king and queen of Spain, informing them of the discovery which he had made, and claiming all the honor of it.
This was ungenerous, as well as wicked. But what was his surprise to find that Columbus had arrived before him! What was his mortification to learn the honors which the real discoverer of the new world was receiving, at the very time he came in with the expectation of taking all the honor to himself!
Pinzon was afraid and ashamed to meet Columbus. He, therefore, avoided being seen, and, not long after, died at his own house, the victim of his own pride and folly. Still higher honors awaited Columbus than those which he had received from the inhabitants of Palos. The letter, which he had written to the king and queen of Spain, had prepared the way for his gracious reception. Indeed, the news of his discovery spread everywhere, and filled the whole country with admiration and delight.
In a short time, Columbus proceeded to Barcelona, to inform the king and queen more particularly concerning his voyage, and about the new world which he had discovered. On his journey, multitudes flocked, from the surrounding country, to see this wonderful man and the natives of the new world, several of whom had accompanied him to Spain.
On his arrival at Barcelona, his reception at court was truly flattering. The king and queen did not attempt to conceal their pleasure at the success of his voyage, and took every means to load him with honor. He was received in great state, and, in the presence of the whole court, the king and queen even rose to welcome him: nay, he had the privilege of seating himself in their presence,—an honor seldom granted to any one.
Columbus now gave an account of his voyage; told them of the new world; exhibited the curiosities which he had brought back; and, more than all—the indisputable evidence of the truth of what he had told them—the natives, whom he now presented to the king and queen.
It may be proper to dwell a moment upon the change in the circumstances of Columbus. For many years he had been endeavoring to effect a darling project. He had struggled with misfortune; he had fought his way without money, without patrons—nay, in opposition to powerful enemies. Less than a year before, he was a humble individual, and accounted by many a visionary and a fortune-hunter. But now he stood in the presence of the sovereigns of Spain, welcomed and honored by them, and an acknowledged benefactor to the world.
The news of his discovery soon spread through Europe, and it was justly considered by far the greatest achievement of the age. Its results have been even greater than were anticipated; for, in the space of three centuries and a half, we see the new world occupied by several great and independent nations, with systems of government which are likely to revolutionize Europe itself.
We shall mention, in this place, one circumstance, which we cannot think of but with regret. Our readers will remember that the person who first discovered land was to have a reward of thirty crowns a year for life. Columbus, we have said in a preceding page, first saw a light, which had been kindled by the natives, but a seaman first actually discovered the land. It was a question to whom the reward belonged—to Columbus or to the seaman. It was given to Columbus. One would think that it should have been given to the seaman, and that Columbus himself would have wished it. The honor, no doubt, was thought more of, by Columbus, than the money.