Chapter
12 - How the Admiral played Robinson Crusoe
While the terrible storm that wrecked
the great gold fleet of the
governor was raging so furiously, Columbus with his four
ships
was lying as near shore as he dared in a little bay farther
down
the coast of Hayti. Here he escaped the full fury of the
gale,
but still his ships suffered greatly, and came very near
being
shipwrecked. They became separated in the storm, but the
caravels
met at last after the storm was over and steered away for
the
island of Jamaica.
For several days they sailed about among the West India
Islands;
then they took a westerly course, and on the thirtieth
of July,
Columbus saw before him the misty outlines of certain high
mountains which he supposed to be somewhere in Asia, but
which we
now know were the Coast Range Mountains of Honduras. And
Honduras, you remember, is a part of Central America.
Just turn to the map of Central America in your geography
and
find Honduras. The mountains, you see, are marked there;
and on
the northern coast, at the head of a fine bay, you will
notice
the seaport town of Truxillo. And that is about the spot
where,
for the first time, Columbus saw the mainland of North
America.
As he sailed toward the coast a great canoe came close
to the
ship. It was almost as large as one of his own caravels,
for it
was over forty feet long and fully eight feet wide. It
was
paddled by twenty-five Indians, while in the middle, under
an
awning of palm-thatch sat the chief Indian, or cacique,
as he was
called. A curious kind of sail had been rigged to catch
the
breeze, and the canoe was loaded with fruits and Indian
merchandise.
This canoe surprised Columbus very much. He had seen nothing
just
like it among the other Indians he had visited. The cacique
and
his people, too, were dressed in clothes and had sharp
swords and
spears. He thought of the great galleys of Venice and Genoa;
he
remembered the stories that had come to him of the people
of
Cathay; he believed that, at last, he had come to the right
place. The shores ahead of him were, he was sure, the coasts
of
the Cathay he was hunting for, and these people in "the
galley of
the cacique" were much nearer the kind of people he
was expecting
to meet than were the poor naked Indians of Hayti and Cuba.
In a certain way he was right. These people in the big
canoe
were, probably, some of the trading Indians of Yucatan,
and
beyond them, in what we know to-day as Mexico, was a race
of
Indians, known as Aztecs, who were what is called half-civilized;
for they had cities and temples and stone houses and almost
as
much gold and treasure as Columbus hoped to find in his
fairyland
of Cathay. But Columbus was not to find Mexico. Another
daring
and cruel Spanish captain, named Cortez, discovered the
land,
conquered it for Spain, stripped it of its gold and treasure,
and
killed or enslaved its brave and intelligent people.
After meeting this canoe, Columbus steered for the distant
shore.
He coasted up and down looking for a good harbor, and on
the
seventeenth of August, 1502, he landed as has been told
you, near
what is now the town of Truxillo, in Honduras. There, setting
up
the banner of Castile, he took possession of the country
in the
name of the king and queen of Spain.
For the first time in his life Columbus stood on the real
soil of
the New World. All the islands he had before discovered
and
colonized were but outlying pieces of America. Now he was
really
upon the American Continent.
But he did not know it. To him it was but a part of Asia.
And as
the main purpose of this fourth voyage was to find a way
to sail
straight to India--which he supposed lay somewhere to the
south--he set off on his search. The Indians told him of "a
narrow place" that he could find by sailing farther
south, and of
a "great water." beyond it. This "narrow
place" was the Isthmus
of Panama, and the "great water" beyond it was,
of course, the
Pacific Ocean. But Columbus thought that by a "narrow
place" they
meant a strait instead of an isthmus. If he could but find
that
strait, he could sail through it into the great Bay of
Bengal
which, as you know and as he had heard, washes the eastern
shore
of India.
So he sailed along the coasts of Honduras and Nicaragua
trying to
find the strait he was hunting for. Just look at your map
and see
how near he was to the way across to the Pacific that men
are now
digging out, and which, as the Nicaragua Canal, will connect
the
Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. And think how near he
was to
finding that Pacific Ocean over which, if he could but
have got
across the Isthmus of Panama, he could have sailed to the
Cathay
and the Indies he spent his life in trying to find. But
if he had
been fortunate enough to get into the waters of the Pacific,
I do
not believe it would have been so lucky for him, after
all. His
little ships, poorly built and poorly provisioned, could
never
have sailed that great ocean in safety, and the end might
have
proved even more disastrous than did the Atlantic voyages
of the
Admiral.
He soon understood that he had found a richer land than
the
islands he had thus far discovered. Gold and pearls were
much
more plentiful along the Honduras coast than they were
in Cuba
and Hayti, and Columbus decided that, after he had found
India,
he would come back by this route and collect a cargo of
the
glittering treasures.
The land was called by the Indians something that sounded
very
much like Veragua. This was the name Columbus gave to it;
and it
was this name, Veragua, that was afterward given to the
family of
Columbus as its title; so that, to-day, the living descendant
of
Christopher Columbus in Spain is called the Duke of Veragua.
But as Columbus sailed south,
along what is called "the
Mosquito
Coast," the weather grew stormy and the gales were
severe. His
ships were crazy and worm-eaten; the food was running low;
the
sailors began to grumble and complain and to say that if
they
kept on in this way they would surely starve before they
could
reach India.
Columbus, too, began to grow uneasy. His youngest son,
Ferdinand,
a brave, bright little fellow of thirteen, had come with
him on
this voyage, and Columbus really began to be afraid that
something might happen to the boy, especially if the crazy
ships
should be wrecked, or if want of food should make them
all go
hungry. So at last he decided to give up hunting for the
strait
that should lead him into the Bay of Bengal; he felt obliged,
also, to give up his plan of going back to the Honduras
coast for
gold and pearls. He turned his ships about and headed for
Hayti
where he hoped he could get Governor Ovando to give him
better
ships so that he could try it all over again.
Here, you see, was still another disappointing defeat
for
Columbus. For after he had been on the American coast for
almost
a year; after he had come so near to what he felt to be
the
long-looked-for path to the Indies; after most wonderful
adventures on sea and land, he turned his back on it all,
without
really having accomplished what he set out to do and, as
I have
told you, steered for Hayti.
But it was not at all easy to get to Hayti in those leaky
ships
of his. In fact it was not possible to get there with them
at
all; for on the twenty-third of June, 1503, when he had
reached
the island of Jamaica he felt that his ships would not
hold out
any longer. They were full of worm- holes; they were leaking
badly; they were strained and battered from the storms.
He
determined, therefore, to find a good harbor somewhere
on the
island of Jamaica and go in there for repairs. But he could
not
find a good one; his ships grew worse and worse; every
day's
delay was dangerous; and for fear the ships would sink
and carry
the crews to the bottom of the sea, Columbus decided to
run them
ashore anyhow. This he did; and on the twelfth of August,
1503,
he deliberately headed for the shore and ran his ships
aground in
a little bay on the island of Jamaica still known as Sir
Christopher's Cove. And there the fleet was wrecked.
The castaways lashed the four wrecks together; they built
deck-houses and protections so as to make themselves as
comfortable as possible, and for a whole year Columbus
and his
men lived there at Sir Christopher's Cove on the beautiful
island
of Jamaica.
It proved anything but beautiful for them, however. It
makes a
good deal of difference, you know, in enjoying things whether
you
are well and happy. If you are hungry and can't get anything
to
eat, the sky does not look so blue or the trees so green
as if
you were sitting beneath them with a jolly picnic party
and with
plenty of lunch in the baskets.
It was no picnic for Columbus and his companions. That
year on
the island of Jamaica was one of horror, of peril, of sickness,
of starvation. Twice, a brave comrade named Diego Mendez
started
in an open boat for Hayti to bring relief. The first time
he was
nearly shipwrecked, but the second time he got away all
right.
And then for months nothing was heard of him, and it was
supposed
that he had been drowned. But the truth was that Governor
Ovando,
had an idea that the king and queen of Spain were tired
of
Columbus and would not feel very bad if they never saw
him again.
He promised to send help, but did not do so for fear he
should
get into trouble. And the relief that the poor shipwrecked
people
on Jamaica longed for did not come.
Then some of the men who were with Columbus mutinied and
ran
away. In fact, more things happened during this remarkable
fourth
voyage of Columbus than I can begin to tell you about.
The story
is more wonderful than is that of Robinson Crusoe, and
when you
are older you must certainly read it all and see just what
marvelous adventures Columbus and his men met with and
how
bravely the little Ferdinand Columbus went through them
all. For
when Ferdinand grew up he wrote a life of his father, the
Admiral, and told the story of how they all played Robinson
Crusoe at Sir Christopher's Cove.
At last the long-delayed help was sent by Governor Ovando,
and
one day the brave Diego Mendez came sailing into Sir
Christopher's Cove. And Columbus forgave the rebels who
had run
away; and on the twenty-eighth of June, 1504, they all
sailed
away from the place, that, for a year past, had been almost
worse
than a prison to them all.
On the fifteenth of August, the rescued crews sailed into
the
harbor of Santo Domingo. The governor, Ovando, who had
reluctantly agreed to send for Columbus, was now in a hurry
to
get him away. Whether the governor was afraid of him, or
ashamed
because of the way he had treated him, or whether he felt
that
Columbus was no longer held so high in Spain, and that,
therefore, it was not wise to make much of him, I cannot
say. At
any rate he hurried him off to Spain, and on the twelfth
of
September, 1504, Columbus turned his back forever on the
new
world he had discovered, and with two ships sailed for
Spain.
He had not been at sea but a day or two before he found
that the
ship in which he and the boy Ferdinand were sailing was
not good
for much. A sudden storm carried away its mast and the
vessel was
sent back to Santo Domingo. Columbus and Ferdinand, with
a few of
the men, went on board the other ship which was commanded
by
Bartholomew Columbus, the brother of the Admiral, who had
been
with him all through the dreadful expedition. At last they
saw
the home shores again, and on the seventh of November,
1504,
Columbus sailed into the harbor of San Lucar, not far from
Cadiz.
He had been away from Spain for fully two years and a
half. He
had not accomplished a single thing he set out to do. He
had met
with disappointment and disaster over and over again, and
had
left the four ships that had been given him a total wreck
upon
the shores of Jamaica. He came back poor, unsuccessful,
unnoticed, and so ill that he could scarcely get ashore.
And so the fourth voyage of the great Admiral ended. It
was his
last. His long sickness had almost made him crazy. He said
and
did many odd things, such as make us think, nowadays, that
people
have, as we call it, "lost their minds." But
he was certain of
one thing--the king and queen of Spain had not kept the
promises
they had made him, and he was determined, if he lived,
to have
justice done him, and to make them do as they said they
would.
They had told him that only himself or one of his family
should
be Admiral of the Ocean Seas and Viceroy of the New Lands;
they
had sent across the water others, who were not of his family,
to
govern what he had been promised for his own. They had
told him
that he should have a certain share of the profits that
came from
trading and gold hunting in the Indies; they had not kept
this
promise either, and he was poor when he was certain he
ought to
be rich.
So, when he was on land once more, he tried hard to get
to court
and see the king and queen. But he was too sick.
He had got as far as beautiful Seville, the fair Spanish
city by
the Guadalquivir, and there he had to give up and go to,
bed. And
then came a new disappointment. He was to lose his best
friend at
the court. For when he had been scarcely two weeks in Spain,
Queen Isabella died.
She was not what would be considered in these days either
a
particularly good woman, or an especially good queen. She
did
many cruel things; and while she talked much about doing
good,
she was generally looking out for herself most of all.
But that
was not so much her fault as the fault of the times in
which she
lived. Her life was not a happy one; but she had always
felt
kindly toward Columbus, and when he was where he could
see her
and talk to her, he had always been able to get her to
side with
him and grant his wishes.
Columbus was now a very sick man. He had to keep his bed
most of
the time, and this news of the queen's death made him still
worse, for he felt that now no one who had the "say" would
speak
a good word for the man who had done so much for Spain,
and given
to the king and queen the chance to make their nation great
and
rich and powerful. |