Read Ebook: Christopher Columbus by Byne Mildred Stapley

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 374 lines and 50921 words, and 8 pages

The Toscanelli letter is dated 1474, and begins: "To Christopher Columbus, Paul the Physician, health: I see thy noble and great desire to go there where grow the spices." But the strange thing is that Columbus never made use of it in pleading before kings, nor did he even mention Toscanelli and the route to India. Neither in all his writings can the name of Toscanelli be found; and it was not till after Columbus's death , when others began to write history, that the document was made public. Most Columbian scholars therefore doubt its genuineness, and think it was not written by Toscanelli in 1474, but by some one in Lisbon long after Columbus had actually made his discovery.

In any case, the pilot's story was a far more likely factor in sending Christopher west. Nor is it to his discredit that he was willing to risk his life on a dying sailor's wild, improbable tale, rather than on an astronomer's carefully worked out theory. Whether our navigator had theories or not is of little consequence compared to the fact that he had boldness, tenacity, and the spirit of adventure.

"The King of Portugal refused with blindness to second me in my projects of maritime discovery."

So Christopher declares in his Journal; but in spite of his way of putting it, King John did not blindly refuse to listen to him. Let us see what, according to two Portuguese historians, really happened when, on his return from Madeira about 1483, he solicited aid.

Columbus told the monarch, who himself knew a great deal about navigation, but who was not nearly as intelligent as his uncle, Prince Henry, how the persistent rumors he had heard at Madeira concerning land in the west made him eager to undertake a western voyage of discovery; and how, if only the king would give him a fleet and some sailors, he would lead them out until they found "lands." The king, who was really not so blind as Columbus thought, did not refuse, but said he must first submit the idea to his Council for Geographical Affairs. This Council consisted of two Jewish doctors and a bishop. The doctors were noted students of geography, yet they declared the scheme to be impossible, and Columbus to be a "visionary."

That such an answer could have been made by men whose nation had been so bold on the sea for fifty years past is at first glance surprising. But one must remember that the Portuguese had been merely feeling their way along Africa. They had perfect confidence in a southern route that hugged the shore. South was safe; but west beyond the Azores, where there was no shore to hug, was quite another matter; they felt that their own navigators, in finding the Azores, had reached the ultimate limits in that direction. Their disagreement may not have been caused by fear, but by realizing that the instruments and ships of the day were not sufficient for such hazardous undertakings. This fact Columbus realized too, and hence his greater bravery. Besides, argued the Portuguese, would there be any profit at the end of the enterprise? They felt sure that at the end of their own southern expeditions lay those same rich Indies which Arab merchants reached by going overland southeast through Asia or south through Egypt; it was all "the Indies" to them, and their navigators were sure to come in touch with it. But who could possibly predict what would be reached far off in the vast west! Why, they wondered, was this Italian so sure of himself ; and why, they further wondered, should he ask such large rewards for finding islands that would probably be nothing more than rocky points in the ocean, like the Azores. No, they concluded, the Italian was a "visionary," and the Council for Geographical Affairs advised the king accordingly.

Seeing that nothing was to be gained by remaining in Portugal, and having become involved soon after in some political trouble, Columbus decided to leave for Spain, and offer to Ferdinand and Isabella the western lands which King John of Portugal had refused.

A SEASON OF WAITING

Columbus by this time was about thirty-five. His reddish-brown hair had turned white. He had no money; on the contrary, he was in debt. His good wife Felipa had died, and he had to find some place where he could leave his little son Diego while he went to court to ask for ships. Felipa had a sister married to a Spaniard and living in Huelva. With this lady Columbus decided to leave the boy.

They left Lisbon by ship, it is supposed; but instead of taking a ship bound direct for Huelva, Christopher picked out one bound for Palos, a port not far from Huelva; moreover, on landing, instead of conducting the child at once to his aunt, he trudged a few miles back of Palos with him to a lonely old convent among the sand dunes, called La Rabida . About his haste to reach this spot Christopher had not breathed a word in the town where he had just landed; in fact, he always remained silent about it; but it appears that he went there to question a Portuguese monk named Marchena whom he had known in Portugal. This monk was an excellent cartographer, or map-maker, and Christopher wished to talk with him about the western lands.

This good monk may have already heard in Portugal about the pilot. At any rate he was much interested in his visitor, and ordered that the monks should feed the hungry little Diego while he and Diego's father held council in one of the cool little cells of the convent.

"Tarry with us a while, Senor," said the monk, "and I will send for the learned Doctor Fernandez of Palos, who has read much science, and for the brave Captain Martin Alonzo Pinzon, who has made many voyages. Let us hear what they have to say about the possibility of finding this island which you believe to lie off in the western sea."

So a messenger was sent back over the dusty road to Palos, and soon Doctor Garcia Fernandez, mounted on his mule, appeared at the gate of La Rabida. The monks showed him in and made him acquainted with their visitor. The doctor was at once impressed and saw that this was no ordinary traveler. White hair surmounting a highly intelligent face, dreaming eyes, inspired voice--this combination did not come every day to La Rabida. He knew that the foreigner would prove interesting and he proceeded to explain that his friend Martin Alonzo Pinzon could not come, as he was at that moment away on a voyage.

"But you must remain with us till he comes back," declared the monk Marchena, "for no man in all Spain is more experienced in matters of navigation. You must tell him about this island you propose to discover." And Fernandez, when he heard Christopher's tale, said the same thing. Thus it was that little Diego never got to his aunt in Huelva; for by the time Martin Alonzo had returned, the monks had grown so fond of the child, and were so impressed with the great future that lay before his inspired father, that they offered to keep him and educate him free of all expense. This offer Columbus was glad to accept.

The man whose return Columbus awaited in the hospitable monastery of La Rabida belonged to the most influential family of Palos. For generations the Pinzons had all been sailor-merchants and had amassed considerable wealth. The head of the family still sailed the seas; and as, in Palos and in near-by Huelva, many Portuguese lived who boasted about the discoveries their country had made, his interest had been much piqued by their talk. He was educated and open-minded. Moreover, he was considered the best navigator of all who sailed from that important maritime region of Huelva.

When Pinzon got back to Palos, he learned that the monks of La Rabida had been eagerly awaiting him, in order that he might meet their interesting visitor. Off he hastened; and from the moment he and Columbus met, each recognized in the other a master spirit. Whether or not Columbus and Marchena told Pinzon at that time the story of the pilot is not known; but certainly he heard it later. We only know that they talked of lands to be discovered in the west, and that Pinzon offered to go on the expedition as captain in case Columbus should be successful in getting permission and help from the Spanish sovereigns.

From La Rabida Columbus went to the large and important city of Sevilla, carrying letters of introduction from the monk Marchena. In Sevilla he had an interview with the powerful Duke of Medina Sidonia who was much interested in his project at first, but soon gave it up. Next he met the Duke of Medina Celi, who was even more powerful, and with whom Columbus spent a year while waiting for a favorable opportunity to lay his plans before the court. When the proper moment came, the duke acquainted the queen with Columbus's matter, and she in answer invited the would-be explorer to come to Cordova. This was in January, 1486.

It has often been stated that Columbus, while still in Lisbon, had applied both to Genoa and to Venice for aid. This is no longer believed, as no proofs can be found. There is, however, some reason for believing that he sent his brother Bartholomew to England and France to urge the matter. Columbus himself nowhere gives the details of these missions, though he does say, in a letter to the Spanish monarchs, "In order to serve your Highnesses, I listened neither to England nor France, whose princes wrote me letters." Another bit of evidence regarding the French appeal is a letter, written after the discovery, by the Duke of Medina Celi to Cardinal Mendoza. Cardinal Mendoza was King Ferdinand's prime minister, and the duke, having befriended Columbus soon after his arrival from Portugal, and again some years afterward, asked a favor of the cardinal, saying, "You must remember that I prevented Columbus from going into the service of France and held him here in Spain."

Perhaps some scholar may some day unearth the correspondence between Columbus and the French king; but at present we have only the hints given above, along with the fact that Columbus, when finally dismissed from Granada in 1492, started for France.

In describing Columbus's suit in Spain the names of great churchmen-- cardinals, bishops, priests, monks,--will frequently appear, and it will be well to understand why his fate so often lay in their hands. During the Dark Ages the only people who received any education were the clergy. Their education gave them great power over the ignorant; and even after the dawn of the Renaissance, when other classes began to demand education, the clergy were still looked up to as possessing the bulk of the world's wisdom.

Thus every king's counselors were mostly churchmen. If those ecclesiastics had always tried to deserve their reputation for wisdom, it might have been a good arrangement. Unfortunately, some were narrow- minded and gave their king bad advice; happily, some were wise and good as well as powerful, and a few of this sort in Spain helped Christopher Columbus to make his dreams come true.

Many writers speak bitterly of the way in which King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella temporized with Columbus. It was hard, indeed, for a man burning up with a great and glorious plan to be kept so long from executing it; but a glance into Spanish affairs at the moment when the man brought his idea into Spain will show that its rulers were not so culpable after all. We have already seen how long and how vigorously the sovereigns were pushing the Moorish war; but this was not their only anxiety. Spain's finances, owing to the misrule of previous kings, were in a very bad way. To get money, taxes were raised; and high taxes, as we know, always cause dissatisfaction among the people. Then, too, a death-dealing pestilence swept over the land and claimed thousands of victims.

This is only a partial account of Spain's woes at the time when the man with the idea arrived; but it shows clearly how the king and queen may have been too busy and too worried to give much time or money to a "dreaming foreigner." They gave him just enough of each to keep up his hopes and prevent him from going elsewhere. Columbus himself must have realized that he had not come at a fortunate time, and that there was nothing to do but to wait patiently.

Spain in those days had no capital. Both Ferdinand and Isabella led the army and established themselves in whatever city was most convenient for their military operations. At the time they heard, through the Duke of Medina Celi, of the Genoese navigator who had a great plan for discovery to unfold to them, they were in the ancient city of Cordova; but, even after requesting that Columbus be sent to Cordova, they could not give much heed to him because they had to hasten to the Moorish frontier and open their campaign against the kingdom of Granada. After a time they returned to Cordova, but only to start immediately for the north, where one of their nobles had raised a rebellion. During these months, all that Columbus could do to further his cause was to make the acquaintance of a favorite of the king named Alonzo de Quintanilla. This gentleman proved friendly, and invited Columbus to accompany him to the city of Salamanca. The court was to pass the winter there, and Quintanilla hoped to secure an audience for his new friend.

He was successful. Columbus spoke to King Ferdinand, and spoke eloquently. He himself has described his enthusiasm by saying he felt "kindled with fire from on high." This fire, unfortunately, did not spread to his listener. The man to whom Columbus spoke was not given to warm impulses. On the contrary, he was cold and shrewd. He never decided matters hastily; least of all a matter that involved expenses. We do not know exactly what answer Ferdinand made to the impassioned pleader, but we do know that he first sought the opinions of the learned men of Salamanca.

Certainly the majority looked upon him as either a heretic or a foolish dreamer, or perhaps a bold adventurer trying to get money from their king; but happily a few believed in him, argued on his side, and became his steadfast friends. The most noted of these was the learned monk, Diego de Deza. He was intelligent, broad-minded, and generous; and though he was not able to prevail upon the other professors nor upon the king, still it must have helped Columbus's cause to have such a distinguished churchman for his friend.

In the spring of 1487 the monarchs left Salamanca without giving a definite answer to the anxious man. They were about to begin a campaign against the Moors in Malaga, down on the Mediterranean coast, and thither Columbus followed them. Once, when there was a lull in the siege, he was summoned to the royal tent. Again no definite answer was given, but again he made a powerful friend. This time it was the Marchioness of Moya, the queen's dearest companion; and when, soon after, this lady was wounded by a Moorish assassin who mistook her for the queen, we may be sure that Isabella's affection deepened; and that, in gratitude, she listened readily when the kind-hearted marchioness praised the Genoese navigator.

From the surrender of Malaga until that of Granada, the last Moorish city, Ferdinand and Isabella were ever busy,--sometimes in the south with their armies, sometimes attending to general government affairs in various cities of the north. All this time they were having hard work to raise war funds. It would not be strange, therefore, if they felt unable to spend money on Columbus's doubtful scheme, or if they told him that it would be impossible further to consider his project until the Moorish war should terminate.

A RAY OF HOPE

Until the Moorish war should end!

Imagine the disappointment of this man who had been trying for years to prove that lands lay far across the Atlantic, yet no one cared enough about his grand idea to give him a few ships! Who could tell when the Moorish war would end? And who could tell whether it would end in favor of the Spanish? Why, he must have asked himself, should he, no longer young, wait to see?

Accordingly, in the spring of 1488 he wrote, so he says, to the king of Portugal asking permission to return. King John not only invited him to come back, but promised that no one should be allowed to bring any lawsuit against him. This refers, perhaps, to the sums Columbus had borrowed for trading purposes and had lost. About the same time came a message from the English king, whom Bartholomew Columbus had visited. Neither letter contained any definite promise of assistance; but the mere fact that other countries were interested caused Ferdinand and Isabella some anxiety. They must have considered how humiliating it would be for them to turn away this opportunity that was knocking at their door, and send it to rival kingdoms. They decided, war or no war, to have all the learned men of Spain come together and listen to the Italian's project. If a majority of these wise men thought the voyage might prove profitable, then they would immediately give Columbus the necessary ships and men. Accordingly they issued three important orders: one, bidding Columbus to appear before a learned council in Sevilla; another, commanding every town through which he might pass in reaching Sevilla to give him hospitality; a third, commanding Sevilla itself to give him lodging and to treat him as if he were a government official. All this must have looked so promising, so much in earnest, that Columbus willingly put off his return to Portugal. In spite of the narrow-mindedness he had encountered in the learned men of Salamanca, he started off, full of hope, to talk to the same sort of learned men of Sevilla. But it all came to naught. For some reason now unknown the meeting was postponed; and the summer campaign starting soon after, the government had other matters to consider.

In August of that year, 1488, Columbus's younger son Fernando, whose mother was a Spanish woman, was born in Cordova, and soon after the father appears to have returned to Lisbon.

Here again we do not know what happened; the only proof we have that he made the journey at all is a memorandum written by him in his copy of the "Imago Mundi." It is dated Lisbon, December, 1488, and states that Bartholomew Dias had just rounded southern Africa--the Cape of Good Hope. Whether Columbus made another fruitless appeal to Portugal we shall never know. We only know that, instead of going from Lisbon to England, he went back to procrastinating Spain. That he came back by King Ferdinand's summons is almost positive, for another royal decree was issued for every city through which he passed to furnish him with board and lodging at the king's expense. This was in May, 1489, which means that another summer campaign was in progress when Columbus entered Spain. The monarchs who took the trouble to bring him back had no time for his project after he reached Spain.

For almost two years, that is, till the end of 1491, the waiting navigator again resided with the Duke of Medina Celi who still had faith in his proposed explorations.

The duke was by far the most powerful friend Columbus had made in Spain, for he possessed and governed a large principality that was practically independent of the Crown. He lived in royal splendor and held court like a king. When Spain went to war, the duke could fit out a whole army from his own dominions and send them forth under his own banner to fight for the king. Columbus must have felt greatly encouraged over retaining the good will of such a mighty personage; indeed, the duke himself was quite rich enough to give the necessary ships.

But, somehow, he failed to do so; probably because he feared that the sovereigns might object to having a private individual steal away the glory they themselves had no time to reap. Our navigator, again disheartened because the years were slipping away, announced to his host that he would start for France. At this the duke wrote to the queen personally, telling her what a pity it would be to let France have the profits of such a discovery. Also, he wrote a very kind letter of commendation for Columbus to take to her Majesty, a letter which is still preserved; but even with this powerful backing Columbus got no help, as we shall see.

The monarchs, having conquered most of the Moorish cities, were preparing to lay siege to the last stronghold, Granada. Columbus craved an answer from them before the siege began. They requested Bishop Talavera to immediately obtain opinions from the wisest men he could reach, and report their verdict. The majority of wise men, it is sad to relate, again pronounced Columbus's enterprise vain and impossible; the Atlantic Ocean could not be crossed; but the minority, headed by the wise monk, Diego de Deza of Salamanca, who was now tutor to young Prince John, upheld it vigorously, and told the queen that the plan was perfectly feasible. The poor sovereigns, who were neither scientists nor churchmen, but merely hard-working soldiers and governors, did not know which view to take. Again they evaded a positive answer, making the war their excuse; and again Columbus, indignant at their evasion, determined to go to France.

Right here we come to one of the most picturesque incidents in this checkered life,--an incident that takes us again to that hot, dusty, southwestern corner where we saw him first enter Spain with the child trudging by his side.

Columbus appears to have decided that, before starting for France, it would be well to remove Diego from La Rabida and place him with the baby step-brother Fernando in Cordova, so that Fernando's mother might bring up the two lads together. With this end in view, he again presented himself before the gate of the low, white monastery near Palos. The first time he had rung that bell it was with hope in his heart; this time he was dejected. He had no hope, so far as Spain was concerned. The good monk Marchena had certainly done his best, but it had come to naught. There was nothing left but to thank them all and get to France as soon as possible. So mused Christopher sadly as he waited for the gate to open.

But Christopher did not know that there had recently come to La Rabida a new prior or chief monk. This prior, whose name was Juan Perez , possessed, fortunately, an imagination and a certain amount of influence at court. Having imagination, he loved an occasional bit of news from the outside world. Therefore, when he heard a stranger talking to the monks in the outer courtyard, he listened.

"That man is no ordinary beggar asking alms," said the sympathetic prior to himself. "He seems to be a foreigner, and he is talking about the king and queen, and the conquest of Malaga; and now he is asking for our little pupil Diego--why, it is the child's father!--I must go and speak to him myself!" and out he went and joined the group in the courtyard.

And so it came about that as soon as Christopher had greeted his boy, now grown into a tall, intelligent lad of ten or eleven, he repaired to the cell of Juan Perez and told all that had happened to him during his various sojourns at court. At last he came to his final dismissal. "They say the Atlantic cannot be crossed," he cried desperately, "but I say it can! Aye, and I shall do it, too!"

Never had such stirring words rung out in that peaceful little cell. The prior himself caught their electricity and became quite excited. Although the monk Marchena appears to have left the convent before Christopher's second coming, the prior had learned all about the Italian navigator from the other brothers. The story had interested him greatly, for he too had studied geography; and now, as the Italian stood before him, declaring that he would find those western lands, the prior realized that it would be a pity for Spain to allow the man to carry his idea off to France.

"Linger yet a few days with us, senor," he urged, "that I may learn from Pinzon and Doctor Fernandez what they think of your scheme. If they still regard it favorably, I myself will go to the queen, in your behalf."

Perhaps just here the senor shook his head sadly and said, "No, no; it is not worth the trouble. The queen is interested only in the Moorish war. Not even the great Diego de Deza, nor the Marchioness of Moya, nor the Duke of Medina Celi, have been able to prevail on her."

And perhaps just here the good prior smiled knowingly and replied modestly, "I once had the honor of being Queen Isabella's confessor, and had great influence with her. If"--and here he leaned close to Christopher and whispered something--"I think I might persuade her."

We did not catch that whispered sentence quite clearly, but we believe it to have been, "If I tell her the story of the shipwrecked pilot." Up to this time Christopher had not referred to it in his pleadings, for fear, perhaps, that it would sound too improbable; but down in this corner of Spain, where all men followed the sea, the story had got about and nearly everybody believed it. So now Juan Perez appears to have persuaded Christopher to use it as a last argument. This we may reasonably conclude, since the Rabida monk's intercession with the queen succeeded where all previous efforts had failed.

And so that very day a courier started out from the white monastery among the dark pine trees to find the queen at Granada, and give her Friar Juan's letter craving an interview on "an important matter." In those days it took two weeks, at least, for a courier to ride from Palos to Granada and back. On the fourteenth day, we may be sure, the prior and his guest kept scanning the eastern horizon anxiously. That very evening the man returned. He brought a royal letter granting the monk's request.

"Splendid!" cried the old monk. "I shall start this very night! Find me a mule, some one."

So everybody scurried around the neighborhood to see who would lend the prior a mule; and finally a man of Moguer said he would spare his beast awhile, though he never would have lent him to any other man than the good prior of La Rabida! Then he ventured to hope that the prior would not ride him too hard; as if any one, even an enthusiast helping to discover America, could ride a mule "too hard"!

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet