Wanderings With An Idea - 5

Wanderings With An Idea - 5

It was here that he contracted his second and, so far as we know, his last romantic

attachment. The long idle days of summer and autumn at Cordova, empty of all serious

occupation, gave nature an opportunity for indulging her passion for life and continuity.

Among Christopher's friends at Cordova was the family of Arana, friendly hospitable

souls, by some accounts noble and by others not noble, and certainly in somewhat poor

circumstances, who had welcomed him to their house, listened to his plans with

enthusiasm, and formed a life-long friendship with him. Three members of this family are

known to us—two brothers, Diego and Pedro, both of whom commanded ships in

Columbus's expeditions, and a sister Beatriz. Columbus was now a man of six-and-thirty,

while she was little more than a girl; he was handsome and winning, distinguished by the

daring and importance of his scheme, full of thrilling and romantic talk of distant lands; a

very interesting companion, we may be sure. No wonder she fell in love with

Christopher; no wonder that he, feeling lonely and depressed by the many postponements

of his suit at Court, and in need of sympathy and encouragement, fell in these blank

summer days into an intimacy that flamed into a brief but happy passion. Why Columbus

never married Beatriz de Arana we cannot be sure, for it is almost certain that his first

wife had died some time before. Perhaps he feared to involve himself in any new or

embarrassing ties; perhaps he loved unwillingly, and against his reason; perhaps—

although the suggestion is not a happy one—he by this time did not think poor Beatriz

good enough for the Admiral-elect of the Ocean Seas; perhaps (and more probably)

Beatriz was already married and deserted, for she bore the surname of Enriquez; and in

that case, there being no such thing as a divorce in the Catholic Church, she must either

sin or be celibate. But however that may be, there was an uncanonical alliance between

them which evidently did not in the least scandalise her brothers and which resulted in

the birth of Ferdinand Columbus in the following year. Christopher, so communicative

and discursive upon some of his affairs, is as reticent about Beatriz as he was about

Philippa. Beatriz shares with his legitimate wife the curious distinction of being spoken

of by Columbus to posterity only in his will, which was executed at Valladolid the day

before he died. In the dry ink and vellum of that ancient legal document is his only record

of these two passions. The reference to Beatriz is as follows:

"And I direct him [Diego] to make provision for Beatriz Enriquez, mother of D.

Fernando, my son, that she may be able to live honestly, being a person to whom I am

under very great obligation. And this shall be done for the satisfaction of my conscience,

because this matter weighs heavily upon my soul. The reason for which it is not fitting to

write here."

About the condition of Beatriz, temporal and spiritual, there has been much controversy;

but where the facts are all so buried and inaccessible it is unseemly to agitate a veil which

we cannot lift, and behind which Columbus himself sheltered this incident of his life.

"Acquainted with poverty" is one fragment of fact concerning her that has come down to

us; acquainted also with love and with happiness, it would seem, as many poor persons

undoubtedly are. Enough for us to know that in the city of Cordova there lived a woman,

rich or poor, gentle or humble, married or not married, who brought for a time love and

friendly companionship into the life of Columbus; that she gave what she had for giving,

without stint or reserve, and that she became the mother of a son who inherited much of

what was best in his father, and but for whom the world would be in even greater

darkness than it is on the subject of Christopher himself. And so no more of Beatriz

Enriquez de Arana, whom "God has in his keeping"—and has had now these many

centuries of Time.

Thus passed the summer and autumn of 1487; precious months, precious years slipping

by, and the great purpose as yet unfulfilled and seemingly no nearer to fulfilment. It is

likely that Columbus kept up his applications to the Court, and received polite and

delaying replies. The next year came, and the Court migrated from Zaragoza to Murcia,

from Murcia to Valladolid, from Valladolid to Medina del Campo. Columbus attended it

in one or other of these places, but without result. In August Beatriz gave birth to a son,

who was christened Ferdinand, and who lived to be a great comfort to his father, if not to

her also. But the miracle of paternity was not now so new and wonderful as it had been;

the battle of life, with its crosses and difficulties, was thick about him; and perhaps he

looked into this new-comer's small face with conflicting thoughts, and memories of the

long white beach and the crashing surf at Porto Santo, and regret for things lost—so

strangely mingled and inconsistent are the threads of human thought. At last he decided

to turn his face elsewhere. In September 1488 he went to Lisbon, for what purpose it is

not certain; possibly in connection with the affairs of his dead wife; and probably also in

the expectation of seeing his brother Bartholomew, to whom we may now turn our

attention for a moment.