Chapter XVIII

Conspiracy against Columbus at Jamaica—He Returns to Spain and Vainly Seeks Reinstatement—He Dies at Valladolid in 1506

Day after day the companions of Columbus watched the region whence Fiesko was to come with the news that Mendez had made a landing at Hispaniola, but they watched in vain. Fiesko did not appear. Thereupon they became desperate. They were sure both the adventurers had been lost and all hope of release from the island vanished. The air was filled with their complaints and these complaints at last changed to open revolt. They shrieked, cursed, and threatened the life of Columbus, and the dark hour seemed to have come when the great leader, who had overcome so many dangers, should fall a victim to their blind rage. Columbus was confined to his bed with a painful ailment, a large part of his crew were in a similar plight. Those who were on their feet had submitted themselves to the leadership of two brothers, named Porras. The oldest of these, an unfeeling wretch, approached the Admiral’s bed and savagely demanded to know why he did not go back to Spain. Columbus replied with his customary composure that he had no way of returning, much as he wished to do so; if any one of his men could show him the way to do it, he would gladly go. Gracious as his answer was, it made not the slightest impression upon the shameless Porras. He replied even more ferociously that it was no time for pretences. For his part he was going to sail. Thereupon he shouted to the assembled crowd: “Those who wish to follow me, step forward.” His words were the sign for a universal uprising on the vessel. Most of them at once declared that they were ready to follow him. The Admiral, suffering as he was with the torments of gout, sprang from his bed to calm the disturbance, but his attendants who were justly afraid he would be murdered, restrained him. The mutineers gave way and retired when his brother, Bartolomeo, rushed into their midst, pike in hand, to punish them for their treachery. The leaders of the revolt in the meantime seized ten small craft which the Admiral had secured from the natives and sprang into them. This caused the others who had taken no part in the uprising to waver in their loyalty and most of them got into the boats and asked to be taken with them. It was with the deepest concern that Columbus, his brother, Bartolomeo, and his son Ferdinand watched this distressing spectacle. The poor bedridden invalid saw himself deserted by almost all his crew. The few faithful attendants gathered around his bed and engaged in excited discussion, while he thanked them for their proof of loyalty and encouraged them to remain steadfast in their duties and to look for a speedy termination of their present wretched condition, assuring them that in the future their honesty and loyalty would be rewarded.

The unfeeling mutineers in the meantime rowed with exultant shouts to the eastern point of the island, thence passing over to Hispaniola. When they went ashore they plundered and outraged the natives and shamelessly advised them to hold the Admiral responsible, as he was the sole cause of their trouble. If they could get no indemnity from him, they had their permission to kill him. It was his intention to make them all suffer and if they were smart they would get ahead of him. This greatly embittered the Indians against their treacherous leaders. Next they forced a large number of Indians, whom they had made prisoners, to go on board and do the rowing.

They had hardly gone four miles after this when a furious wind arose and made the sea so rough that their small craft began to fill with water. In order to lighten them, the wretches determined to murder the Indians and throw them overboard. Some of them had already been killed when the others, growing desperate, flung themselves into the water and imploring mercy swam along near the canoes. But with unheard-of cruelty, whenever they became exhausted and to rest themselves would cling for a little while to the canoes, these European monsters would push them off and inhumanly leave them to die. No less than eighteen were thus sacrificed, and the same dreadful fate would have overtaken all of them had not the Spaniards doubted the possibility of reaching Jamaica without the help of the few remaining.

Columbus in the meantime bore his great trouble with his customary resolution and, sick as he was, looked after the other invalids with the tenderness of a father. Heaven blessed his generous solicitude and sympathy and in a short time the old man had the pleasure of seeing all of them restored to health. But now he had to contend with a new danger. The Indians, who had supplied him with provisions up to that time, began to fear that these voracious Europeans would stay there forever and consume everything they could produce. This fear and the outrages from which they had suffered at the hands of the mutineers prejudiced them against the whites, and the result was they stopped bringing supplies to the vessels. Columbus, however, found a way of surmounting this difficulty, for which he was indebted to his knowledge of astronomy. He foresaw that an eclipse of the moon was at hand and he made use of this knowledge to arouse anew the respect and hospitality of the natives. With the help of one of the natives of Hispaniola he summoned the headmen by the announcement that he had something of great importance to communicate to them. When they appeared, he told them through an Indian interpreter that he and his companions were people who knew the God that made the heavens and the earth. This God, who protected the good and punished the bad, would also punish them if they refused any longer to supply food. As a sign of the punishment hanging over them, the moon the next night would wear a red and wrathful face, showing them what trouble they would bring upon themselves if they longer refused to be hospitable to their guests. At first they laughed at the prophecy, but when the moon began to grow dark and the darkness increased, there was universal consternation among them. With shrieks and howls they implored the Admiral to pray to his God that He would not punish them, sacredly promising to supply him with everything necessary to life. Columbus agreed to do as they wished and shut himself up in his cabin for the moment, knowing that the darkness would soon disappear. Then he reappeared and adjured the natives not to be troubled. God, he said, saw with great pleasure that their sentiments had changed. He therefore would not punish them and, as a sign of His graciousness, the moon would lose its angry appearance and soon shine upon them with its friendly beams. When this prophecy had been fulfilled they praised the Christian God in their joyous surprise and generously provided the wonderful man, who had foretold all this, with everything he needed.

Eight long dreary months had passed since Mendez and Fiesko had left for Hispaniola and nothing had been heard of them. There was not the least doubt they had perished and the companions of Columbus gave up all hope of the expected assistance. In despair they contemplated deserting their leader and joining the mutineers who were roaming about the island and living upon their plunder. Just as they were about carrying out their purpose, to their great surprise a European vessel was seen lying at anchor not far from shore. It did not remain there long before its captain came to the Admiral in a boat and gave him a letter from the governor, together with a cask of wine and two sides of bacon. Hardly had he done this when he sprang back into his boat, rowed to his vessel, and sailed away. The letter which he brought contained nothing more than some empty words.

Ovando, the governor of Hispaniola, was anxious that Columbus should miserably perish, for he feared that the discoverer, if he returned to Spain, might establish his rights and cause him to lose his position. He wished to know, therefore, just how great the necessities of this man were, whom he desired out of his way, and whether he could accomplish his infamous purpose if he delayed sending a vessel to him for a long time. This was the malicious reason, as some of the historians maintain, for sending his representative with orders to observe the condition of Columbus’ affairs and then sail away again. Others give a more inoffensive reason. Ovando, they say, feared that Columbus was using the stranding of his vessels as a pretext for coming to Hispaniola with a good grace and then securing the sovereignty by force. It was on this account that he had sent a spy to ascertain whether the affairs of the Admiral were such as had been described. Columbus informed his men that the vessel had sailed away because it was too small to take them and their belongings, that Mendez and Fiesko had fortunately arrived at Hispaniola and had orders to buy a larger vessel upon his account, which would soon come to their relief. In reality he had received no news of the fate of either of them.

Notwithstanding the fact that the brave Fiesko had been prostrated with a fever contracted on the rocky island, true to his promise, he was anxious to return to the Admiral and bring him news of the fortunate outcome of their voyage. But not one of his companions could be induced to make that perilous voyage again. Neither promises nor threats were of any avail and he found himself forced to go to San Domingo against his will. There he and Mendez repeatedly implored the governor to let them buy a vessel for the relief of their leader, but the governor managed in various ways to protract the business so that he might carry out his own designs. Meanwhile Columbus had made many fruitless attempts to bring the rebels back to their allegiance. They not only persisted in their disloyalty but they demanded that the Admiral should give them half of all the clothing and other articles on the stranded vessels. If he refused to do this they threatened to take them by force. When the refusal was actually made they prepared to execute their threat.

As Columbus was still sick he sent his brother Bartolomeo with an armed force to meet them. He had orders to use his good offices and not to begin hostilities until all other means were exhausted. Bartolomeo carried out the order, but when he approached in a friendly way and invited them to make peace they took it as a confession of weakness and the battle began. Six of them had planned to attack Bartolomeo and not to give up until they saw him fall. But Bartolomeo met them fearlessly and, as he was faithfully supported by his little following, he charged upon the rebels with such resistless force that in a short time he won a complete victory. Several were put to the sword, others were taken prisoners, and the rest escaped by flight. Among the prisoners who were taken back to the vessels in chains was Porras, the leader of the rebels, whom Bartolomeo had caught and disarmed with his own hands. He himself received a wound in the hand. Shortly after this the fugitives sent to the Admiral messages imploring his mercy, and the magnanimous man, who was always more inclined to forgiveness than revenge, at once granted their prayer. At last order was restored. Every one returned to duty, every one was forgiven, and only the audacious leader of the mutiny remained in chains as a fitting punishment.

Mendez and Fiesko meanwhile had unceasingly striven to induce the governor of Hispaniola to allow them the privilege of buying a vessel with which to fetch away Columbus and his people from Jamaica. He hesitated long before granting this reasonable request but, at last, fearing they might apply to the Spanish Court if he persisted in leaving the Admiral helpless, he consented. Thus was Columbus relieved and at a time when everything looked hopeless. After spending a whole year in the struggle with poverty and calamity, the vessel arrived. All embarked joyfully June 28, 1504, and sailed to San Domingo which they reached August 13. The governor, concealing his real sentiments under the cloak of pretension and flattery, ordered Columbus to be received with all honor. At the same time, however, when this coward, because of his fears, was pretending to honor Columbus, he was secretly venting his spite against him in various malicious ways. He particularly arranged that the leader of the mutineers, who was to be taken to Spain in chains, should bring a suit for his immediate release, and at the same time threatened to bring proceedings against those who remained faithful to Columbus. The Admiral, who had borne many an injury at the hands of this unscrupulous man with patience, felt strong enough to endure this last outrage also. But he made all possible haste to leave a country whose discovery had been his misfortune, and as soon as a second vessel had been fitted out he sailed for Spain, September 12, 1504. The same adverse fate which had followed him so persistently on his previous voyage overtook him on this last one. A furious storm was so disastrous to one of his vessels that he had to send it back to Hispaniola. The other was so badly damaged that it was doubtful whether it could accomplish the journey. Besides other mishaps it lost its fore and mainmasts. Columbus nevertheless kept on his course undauntedly. With his half-wrecked vessel he traversed seven hundred miles of the ocean and finally reached, though with extreme difficulty, the harbor of St. Lucas, in Andalusia, early in November in the year 1504. He had spent only a few days in Spain, recovering from the fatigue of his journey, when the news of a mournful event reached him. His patroness and only protector, Isabella, died November 26, 1504. He had looked to her as his last and only reliance in obtaining his rights. Now she was gone! What could he expect from the prejudiced King, who had always shown himself inimical to him?

Nevertheless, as soon as his health was in some measure restored, he hastened to the Court to make a report of all that had occurred. But he was coolly received. His just complaints of the many injuries he had suffered from his enemies were not listened to, and his reasonable request that his rights should be restored to him was evaded by shallow pretexts. Thus was this great and well-deserving man condemned to devote the evening of his life to the business of vainly trying to obtain justice from an unjust judge and mercy from a merciless King. Heaven at last put an end to his long and bitter suffering. Exhausted by the trials and hardships he had undergone, he died at Valladolid on Ascension Day, May 20, 1506, his last words being, “Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commit my spirit.” His death was worthy of his life. He died with a peaceful spirit and with that trust in God which had characterized him during his whole life, even when it was darkest. His joyful soul hastened to that judgment-seat before which even Kings must appear. His earthly remains were at first deposited in the monastery of St. Francis in Valladolid and six years later were taken to the Carthusian monastery at Seville, where King Ferdinand erected a costly memorial to the discoverer. From this place the body was removed in 1536 to the island of San Domingo, the scene of his principal discoveries, and upon the cession of that island to the French it was taken to Cuba where the ashes rest in the cathedral of its capital. Near the high altar of this splendid structure his bust stands in a niche, and close by it is a silver urn which contains all that is left of the renowned explorer.

In person Columbus was tall and shapely. His appearance was distinguished. He had a long face, aquiline nose, soft blue eyes, and a very fair complexion. In his youth his hair was auburn but, owing to his many hardships and severe labors, it grew white early, for his life was a continual alternation from fortune to misfortune, from calumny to laudation, from the highest expressions of honor to the lowest degradations. Few and fleeting were his hours of pleasure, for hardly a day passed that he was not called upon to contend with physical pain or troublesome mishaps or aggravating injuries. Otherwise he was strong in his bodily constitution and was very powerful and agile. He had a pleasing and attractive manner and was friendly and modest with every one. He was courteous to strangers, affable to his attendants, merry with his good friends and, what was especially characteristic of him, in almost every situation of life he conducted himself in a manner that commanded admiration. He lived moderately, dressed modestly, and whenever in his various expeditions he was overtaken by adverse circumstances, he allowed himself no comforts which were not shared by his companions. In his youth he devoted himself industriously to the sciences, in which he excelled the average scholars of his time. But what is most worthy of commendation was the quiet, sincere piety which he manifested upon every occasion. He was inclined to anger, but he so far overcame this passion with the principles of his religion that he could display an admirable gentleness and patience when exposed to the coarse assaults of his unworthy adversaries.

Such was the man who was so grossly mistaken and misjudged by his contemporaries but whose name is immortal and must ever arouse love and admiration in the hearts of all who prize the nobility of virtue and human greatness.