The Third Voyage -(Continued) - 2

The Third Voyage -(Continued) - 2

Of pretty Higuamota, who once lived like a dryad among the groves of Espanola and has

been dead now for so long, we know nothing except that she was beautiful, which,

although she doubtless did not think so while she lived, turns out to have been the most

important thing about her. Young Guevara, coming to stay with his cousin Adrian,

becomes a visitor at the house of Anacaona; sees the pretty daughter and falls in love

with her. Other people also, it appears, have been in a similar state, but Higuamota is not

very accessible; a fact which of course adds to the interest of the chase, and turns

dissolute Fernando's idle preference into something like a passion. Roldan, who has also

had an eye upon her, and apparently no more than an eye, discovers that Fernando, in

order to gratify his passion, is proposing to go the absurd length of marrying the young

woman, and has sent for a priest for that purpose. Roldan, instigated thereto by primitive

forces, thinks it would be impolitic for a Spanish grandee to marry with a heathen; very

well, then, Fernando will have her baptized—nothing simpler when water and a priest are

handy. Roldan, seeing that the young man is serious, becomes peremptory, and orders

him to leave Xaragua. Fernando ostentatiously departs, but is discovered a little later

actually living in the house of Anacaona, who apparently is sympathetic to Love's young

dream. Once more ordered away, this time with anger and threats, Guevara changes his

tune and implores Roldan to let him stay, promising that he will give up the marriage

project and also, no doubt, the no-marriage project. But Guevara has sympathisers. The

mutineers have not forgiven Roldan for deserting them and becoming a lawful instead of

an unlawful ruler. They are all on the side of Guevara, who accordingly moves to the next

stage of island procedure, and sets on foot some kind of plot to kill Roldan and the

Admiral. Fortunately where there is treachery it generally works both ways; this plot

came to the ears of the authorities; the conspirators were arrested and sent to San

Domingo.

This action came near to bringing the whole island about Columbus's ears. Adrian de

Moxeca was furious at what he conceived to be the treachery of Roldan, for Roldan was

in such a pass that the barest act of duty was necessarily one of treachery to his friends.

Moxeca took the place of chief rebel that Roldan had vacated; rallied the mutineers round

him, and was on the point of starting for Concepcion, one of the chain of forts across the

island where Columbus was at present staying, when the Admiral discovered his plan. All

that was strongest and bravest in him rose up at this menace. His weakness and cowardice

were forgotten; and with the spirit of an old sea-lion he sallied forth against the

mutineers. He had only a dozen men on whom he could rely, but he armed them well and

marched secretly and swiftly under cloud of night to the place where Moxeca and his

followers were encamped in fond security, and there suddenly fell upon them, capturing

Moxeca and the chief ringleaders. The rest scattered in terror and escaped. Moxeca was

hurried off to the battlements of San Domingo and there, in the very midst of a

longdrawn trembling confession to the priest in attendance, was swung off the ramparts

and hanged. The others, although also condemned to death, were kept in irons in the

fortress, while Christopher and Bartholomew, roused at last to vigorous action, scoured

the island hunting down the remainder, killing some who resisted, hanging others on the

spot, and imprisoning the remainder at San Domingo.

After these prompt measures peace reigned for a time in the island, and Columbus was

perhaps surprised to see what wholesome effects could be produced by a little exemplary

severity. The natives, who under the weakness of his former rule had been discontented

and troublesome, now settled down submissively to their yoke; the Spaniards began to

work in earnest on their farms; and there descended upon island affairs a brief St.

Martin's Summer of peace before the final winter of blight and death set in. The Admiral,

however, was obviously in precarious health; his ophthalmia became worse, and the

stability of his mind suffered. He had dreams and visions of divine help and comfort,

much needed by him, poor soul, in all his tribulations and adversities. Even yet the cup

was not full.

We must now turn back to Spain and try to form some idea of the way in which the

doings of Columbus were being regarded there if we are to understand the extraordinary

calamity that was soon to befall him. It must be remembered first of all that his enterprise

had never really been popular from the first. It was carried out entirely by the energy and

confidence of Queen Isabella, who almost alone of those in power believed in it as a

thing which was certain to bring ultimate glory, as well as riches and dominion, to Spain

and the Catholic faith. As we have seen, there had been a brief ebullition of popular

favour when Columbus returned from his first voyage, but it was a popularity excited

solely by the promises of great wealth that Columbus was continually holding forth.

When those promises were not immediately fulfilled popular favour subsided; and when

the adventurers who had gone out to the new islands on the strength of those promises

had returned with shattered health and empty pockets there was less chance than ever of

the matter being regarded in its proper light by the people of Spain. Columbus had either

found a gold mine or he had found nothing—that was the way in which the matter was

popularly regarded. Those who really understood the significance of his discoveries and

appreciated their scientific importance did not merely stay at home in Spain and raise a

clamour; they went out in the Admiral's footsteps and continued the work that he had

begun. Even King Ferdinand, for all his cleverness, had never understood the real lines

on which the colony should have been developed. His eyes were fixed upon Europe; he

saw in the discoveries of Columbus a means rather than an end; and looked to them

simply as a source of revenue with the help of which he could carry on his ambitious

schemes. And when, as other captains made voyages confirming and extending the work

of Columbus, he did begin to understand the significance of what had been done, he

realised too late that the Admiral had been given powers far in excess of what was

prudent or sensible.

During all the time that Columbus and his brothers were struggling with the impossible

situation at Espanola there was but one influence at work in Spain, and that was entirely

destructive to the Admiral. Every caravel that came from the New World brought two

things. It brought a crowd of discontented colonists, many of whom had grave reasons for

their discontent; and it brought letters from the Admiral in which more and more

promises were held out, but in which also querulous complaints against this and that

person, and against the Spanish settlers generally, were set forth at wearisome length. It is

not remarkable that the people of Spain, even those who were well disposed towards

Columbus, began to wonder if these two things were not cause and effect. The settlers

may have been a poor lot, but they were the material with which Columbus had to deal;

he had powers enough, Heaven knew, powers of life and death; and the problem began to

resolve itself in the minds of those at the head of affairs in Spain in the following terms.

Given an island, rich and luxuriant beyond the dreams of man; given a native population

easily subdued; given settlers of one kind or another; and given a Viceroy with unlimited

powers—could he or could he not govern the island? It was a by no means unfair way of

putting the case, and there is little justice in the wild abuse that has been hurled at

Ferdinand and Isabella on this ground. Columbus may have been the greatest genius in

the world; very possibly they admitted it; but in the meanwhile Spain was resounding

with the cries of the impoverished colonists who had returned from his ocean Paradise.

No doubt the Sovereigns ignored them as much as they possibly could; but when it came

to ragged emaciated beggars coming in batches of fifty at a time and sitting in the very

courts of the Alhambra, exhibiting bunches of grapes and saying that that was all they

could afford to live upon since they had come back from the New World, some notice

had to be taken of it. Even young Diego and Ferdinand, the Admiral's sons, came in for

the obloquy with which his name was associated; the colonial vagabonds hung round the

portals of the palace and cried out upon them as they passed so that they began to dislike

going out. Columbus, as we know, had plenty of enemies who had access to the King and

Queen; and never had enemies an easier case to urge. Money was continually being spent

on ships and supplies; where was the return for it? What about the Ophir of Solomon?

What about the Land of Spices? What about the pearls? And if you want to add a touch of

absurdity, what about the Garden of Eden and the Great Khan?

To the most impartial eyes it began to appear as though Columbus were either an

impostor or a fool. There is no evidence that Ferdinand and Isabella thought that he was

an impostor or that he had wilfully deceived them; but there is some evidence that they

began to have an inkling as to what kind of a man he really was, and as to his unfitness

for governing a colony. Once more something had to be done. The sending out of a

commissioner had not been a great success before, but in the difficulties of the situation it

seemed the only thing. Still there was a good deal of hesitation, and it is probable that

Isabella was not yet fully convinced of the necessity for this grave step. This hesitation

was brought to an end by the arrival from Espanola of the ships bearing the followers of

Roldan, who had been sent back under the terms of Columbus's feeble capitulation. The

same ships brought a great quantity of slaves, which the colonists were able to show had

been brought by the permission of the Admiral; they carried native girls also, many of

them pregnant, many with new-born babies; and these also came with the permission of

the Admiral. The ships further carried the Admiral's letter complaining of the conspiracy

of Roldan and containing the unfortunate request for a further licence to extend the slave

trade. These circumstances were probably enough to turn the scale of Isabella's opinion

against the Admiral's administration. The presence of the slaves particularly angered her

kind womanly heart. "What right has he to give away my vassals?" she exclaimed, and

ordered that they should all be sent back, and that in addition all the other slaves who had

come home should be traced and sent back; although of course it was impossible to carry

out this last order.