Degradation - 2
No reply came to any of these letters, and Columbus sent word that he still regarded his
authority as paramount in the island. For reply to this he received the Sovereigns'
message to him which we have seen, commanding him to put himself under the direction
of Bobadilla. There was no mistaking this; there was the order in plain words; and with I
know not what sinkings of heart Columbus at last set out for San Domingo. Bobadilla had
expected resistance, but the Admiral, whatever his faults, knew how to behave with,
dignity in a humiliating position; and he came into the city unattended on August 23,
1500. On the outskirts of the town he was met by Bobadilla's guards, arrested, put in
chains, and lodged in the fortress, the tower of which exists to this day. He seemed to
himself to be the victim of a particularly petty and galling kind of treachery, for it was his
own cook, a man called Espinoza, who riveted his gyves upon him.
There remained Bartholomew to be dealt with, and he, being at large and in command of
the army, might not have proved such an easy conquest, but that Christopher, at
Bobadilla's request, wrote and advised him to submit to arrest without any resistance.
Whether Bartholomew acquiesced or not is uncertain; what is certain is that he also was
captured and placed in irons, and imprisoned on one of the caravels. James in one
caravel, Bartholomew in another, and Christopher in the fortress, and all in chains—this
is what it has come to with the three sons of old Domenico.
The trial was now begun, if trial that can be called which takes place in the absence of the
culprit or his representative. It was rather the hearing of charges against Christopher and
his brothers; and we may be sure that every discontented feeling in the island found voice
and was formulated into some incriminating charge. Columbus was accused of
oppressing the Spanish settlers by making them work at harsh and unnecessary labour; of
cutting down their allowance of food, and restricting their liberty; of punishing them
cruelly and unduly; of waging wars unjustly with the natives; of interfering with the
conversion of the natives by hastily collecting them and sending them home as slaves; of
having secreted treasures which should have been delivered to the Sovereigns—this last
charge, like some of the others, true. He had an accumulation of pearls of which he had
given no account to Fonseca, and the possession of which he excused by the queer
statement that he was waiting to announce it until he could match it with an equal amount
of gold! He was accused of hating the Spaniards, who were represented as having risen in
the late rebellion in order to protect the natives and avenge their own wrongs—, and
generally of having abused his office in order to enrich his own family and gratify his
own feelings. Bobadilla appeared to believe all these charges; or perhaps he recognised
their nature, and yet saw that there was a sufficient degree of truth in them to disqualify
the Admiral in his position as Viceroy. In all these affairs his right-hand man was Roldan,
whose loyalty to Columbus, as we foresaw, had been short-lived. Roldan collects
evidence; Roldan knows where he can lay his hands on this witness; Roldan produces this
and that proof; Roldan is here, there, and everywhere—never had Bobadilla found such a
useful, obliging man as Roldan. With his help Bobadilla soon collected a sufficient
weight of evidence to justify in his own mind his sending Columbus home to Spain, and
remaining himself in command of the island.
The caravels having been made ready, and all the evidence drawn up and documented, it
only remained to embark the prisoners and despatch them to Spain. Columbus, sitting in
his dungeon, suffering from gout and ophthalmic as well as from misery and humiliation,
had heard no news; but he had heard the shouting of the people in the streets, the beating
of drums and blowing of horns, and his own name and that of his brothers uttered in
derision; and he made sure that he was going to be executed. Alonso de Villegio, a
nephew of Bishop Fonseca's, had been appointed to take charge of the ships returning to
Spain; and when he came into the prison the Admiral thought his last hour had come.
"Villegio," he asked sadly, "where are you taking me?"
"I am taking you to the ship, your Excellency, to embark," replied the other.
"To embark?" repeated the Admiral incredulously. "Villegio! are you speaking the
truth?"
"By the life of your Excellency what I say is true," was the reply, and the news came with
a wave of relief to the panic-stricken heart of the Admiral.
