An enterprise so vast and hazardous as that proposed by Columbus was not likely to receive adequate assistance from any private benefactor. Though the Portuguese had long been considered daring navigators, no one of them had yet undertaken an expedition in any way comparable in point of novelty and boldness with that now proposed. The explorers of Prince Henry had skirted along the coasts of Africa, following out lines of discovery that had already been somewhat plainly marked out. But what Columbus now proposed was the bolder course of cutting loose from old traditions and methods, and sailing directly west into an unknown space. Capital was even more conservative and timid in the fifteenth century than it is at the present time; and therefore great expeditions were much more dependent upon governmental assistance. It was not singular, therefore, that Columbus found himself obliged to seek for governmental support and protection.

But in this, as in so many other details in the life of Columbus, it is impossible at the present time to be confident that we have ascertained the exact truth. Many of the early accounts are conflicting; and not a few of the prevailing impressions are founded on evidence that will not bear the test of critical examination. For example, nearly all of the historians assert that Columbus made application for assistance to the governments of Genoa and Venice.

The only authority for belief that the Admiral applied to Genoa is a statement of Ramusio, who affirms that he received his information from Peter Martyr. In the course of the narrative he says that when the application was rejected, Columbus, at the age of forty, determined to go to Portugal. Unfortunately, to our acceptance of this circumstantial statement there are several very serious obstacles. In the first place, no authority for such an assertion can be found in all the writings of Peter Martyr. Again, the archives of Genoa have been thoroughly explored in vain for any evidence of such an application. But most important of all, the assertion, if true, would prove that Columbus was born as early as 1430. We should also be obliged to infer that two of his children by the same mother differed in age by at least thirty-six years. The impression that Columbus made application for assistance to Genoa may therefore safely be dismissed as apocryphal.

The evidence in regard to an application to Venice, though less positive in its nature, is also inconclusive. The Venetian historian Carlo Antonio Marin, whose history of Venetian commerce was not published till the year 1800, was the first to give currency to the story. His authority is this. He says that Francesco Pesaro said to him some ten or twelve years before,—that is, about 1780,—that in making some researches in the archives of the Council of Ten, he had seen and read a letter of Columbus making application to the Venetian Government for assistance. But although diligent search has since been made at two different times throughout the archives for the years between 1470 and 1492, no trace of such a letter has ever been found. It is possible that this important document may have been destroyed when, just before the preliminaries of Leoben, in May, 1797, a mob invaded the hall of the Council of Ten and dispersed such of the papers as could be found. But until some further evidence comes to light, it must be considered doubtful whether application to Venice was ever made.

In regard to applications to Portugal, England, and France, the evidence is less incomplete, though here, too, we meet with not a few conflicting statements.

In one of his letters to the Spanish sovereigns Columbus says: “For twenty-seven years I had been trying to get recognition, but at the end of that period all my projects were turned to ridicule.... But notwithstanding this fact,” he continues, “I pressed on with zeal, and responded to France, Portugal, and England that I reserved for the king and queen those countries and those domains.” Elsewhere he says: “In order to serve your Highnesses, I listened to neither England nor Portugal nor France, whose princes wrote me letters which your Highnesses can see in the hands of Dr. Villalono.” There is another bit of evidence on this subject that is not less interesting. On the 19th of March, 1493, Duke of Medina Celi wrote to Cardinal de Mendoza asking that he might be permitted to send vessels every year to trade in America, and urging as a reason for this special favor the fact that he had prevented Columbus from going to the service of France and had held him to the service of Spain, at a time when he had opportunities for going elsewhere.

But as if to prevent us from being too confident that we have arrived at the exact truth, Columbus in another of his letters gives us a statement which, if it stood alone, would seem to prove that John II. not only made no offer, but stubbornly refused all assistance. He says: “The king of Portugal refused with blindness to second me in my projects of maritime discovery, for God closed his eyes, ears, and all his senses, so that in fourteen years I was not able to make him listen to what I advanced.”

From this it would seem to be certain that the offer of Portugal alluded to in the letter above quoted was not made earlier than 1487, fully two years after Columbus had arrived in Spain.

That Columbus’s application was made as early as 1474, the Toscanelli correspondence is sufficient proof. But the moment was not auspicious. John II., who was then reigning, appears to have had no aversion to giving aid to such an enterprise; but he was involved in expensive wars, and any additional drafts upon the treasury would have met with exceptional difficulty. But there was another reason that ought not to be overlooked. The recent maritime history of Portugal had given the Government a very natural feeling of self-reliance. The extraordinary efforts and successes of Prince Henry had borne fruit. Portugal had not only raised up a large number of skilful explorers, but had attracted to Lisbon all the great navigators of the time. Diego Cam and Behaim had gone beyond the Congo. Affonso de Aviero had visited the kingdom of Benin, and Pedro de Covilham had advanced to Calicut by way of the Red Sea. Affonso de Pavia had reached Abyssinia, and Bartholomew Diaz was at the point of doubling the Cape of Good Hope. Thus a vast number of expeditions had been sent out, not only to the coasts of Africa, but also to the open sea. In 1513 De Mafra testified that the king of Portugal had sent out two exploring expeditions that had returned without results. In view of all these facts the refusal of the Portuguese monarch might easily be explained on the ground of anterior engagements to his own subjects.

But notwithstanding the assurances of Columbus himself, it is certain that there was no absolute refusal. On the contrary, there is positive proof that the king took the matter into most careful consideration. He not only listened with attention to the scheme, but, if we may believe the testimony of Fernando, gave a qualified promise of support. Columbus accepted an invitation of the monarch to unfold his hypothesis in reference to the extent of Asia, the splendors of the region described by Marco Polo, the shortness of the distance across the Atlantic, and the entire practicability of reaching the East Indies by a directly westward course.

Of this interview we have two accounts, one written by the Admiral’s son Fernando, and the other by De Barros, the Portuguese historiographer. According to Fernando, his father supported the prosecution of the plan by such excellent reasons that the king did not hesitate to give his consent. But when Columbus, being a man of lofty and noble ideals, demanded honorable titles and rewards, the king found the matter quite beyond the means then at his disposal. De Barros, on the other hand, assures us that the seeming acquiescence of the king was simply his manner of answering what he regarded as the unreasonable importunities of Columbus. He considered the navigator as a vainglorious man, fond of displaying his abilities and given to fantastic notions, such as those respecting the island of Cipango. According to this same authority, it was but another way of getting rid of Columbus that the king referred the whole subject to a committee of the Council for Geographical Affairs.

It is said that councils of war never fight, and that advisory boards regard the promoters of new schemes as their natural enemies. The committee to whom the king referred the proposal of Columbus was made up of two Jewish physicians and a bishop. Although the physicians, Roderigo and Joseph, were reputed as the most able cosmographers of the realm, they had not much hesitation in deciding that the project was extravagant and visionary. With this judgment the ecclesiastical member of the council seems to have agreed.

The king, however, as if unwilling to lose any valuable opportunity, does not appear to have been satisfied with this answer. As the story goes, he convoked his royal council, and asked their advice whether to adopt this new route, or to pursue that which had already been opened.

Von Concelos, the historian of King John II., has given a graphic account of the discussion held before this council. The Bishop of Ceuta, the same important dignitary that had been a member of the committee of three, opposed this scheme in a cool and deliberate speech. The opposite side was presented by Dom Pedro de Meneses with so much eloquence and power that the impression he made quite surpassed that of the colder reasonings of the bishop. What followed was apparently prompted by a consciousness that the advocates of the scheme were likely to be successful. The bishop now proposed a very unworthy scheme. He asked that Columbus might be kept in suspense while a vessel should be secretly despatched by the king to discover whether there was any foundation for his theory. The king appears not to have been above the adoption of so base a proposition. Columbus was required to furnish for the consideration of the council a plan of his proposed voyage, together with the charts and maps with which he intended to guide his course. A small vessel was despatched, ostensibly to the Cape de Verde islands, but with private instructions to proceed on the route pointed out by Columbus. The officer had no heart in the enterprise, and it was a complete failure. Sailing westward for several days, they encountered storms, and the sailors, losing their courage, returned to ridicule the project as impossible.

When these facts came to be known, they produced a very natural impression on the mind of Columbus. Disgusted with the treatment he had received from the Portuguese, he quitted Lisbon for Spain at a date which cannot be determined with precision, but probably in the latter part of the year 1484 or in the early part of 1485. His departure had to be secret, lest he should be detained either by the king or his creditors. Color is given to the supposition that he was under grave charges of some kind by the fact that King John, when, some years later, inviting him to return to Portugal, deemed it necessary to insure him “against arrest on account of any process, civil or criminal, that might be pending against him.”

Now, in considering all these accounts, it is not difficult to imagine that in his efforts to promote his great schemes, Columbus had been kept in poverty. But the reasons for his leaving in secret, and even his movements on leaving Portugal, are involved in uncertainty.

It has also very often been held by modern historians that Columbus, immediately after entering Spain, found his way to the monastery of La Rabida, near Palos. The authority for this belief, moreover, is nothing less than a circumstantial account given by Fernando. But the assertion has been proved to be incorrect. In the trial of 1513, in which Diego Columbus attempted to establish certain claims against the Government, two witnesses gave sworn testimony in regard to the meeting at La Rabida. This testimony is still to be seen in the records of the trial; and the details of the evidence make it almost absolutely certain that the visit of Columbus to that famous monastery was not when he first entered Spain in 1484 or 1485, but as late as September or October of 1491.

Of another interesting effort, however, we have more positive information. It was probably before leaving Portugal that he despatched his brother Bartholomew to make application to the king of England. But whatever the date of the application, it was not successful. Whether the presentation of the case was made orally or in writing can perhaps never be determined. It is known that he was in England for a considerable period; but no trace of the application itself has ever been found in the English authorities of the time. After remaining in England probably until 1488, Bartholomew went to France, where he remained until 1494. Though it seems probable that he received some encouragement at the French court, even the probability rests upon no documentary evidence except the assertion of Columbus, already quoted. That hopes were held out, may perhaps be inferred from the fact that when, almost at the last moment, Columbus turned his back upon the Spanish court, he decided to go to France. As to the course pursued by Columbus after he reached Spain, there is also some uncertainty. This is owing to the impossibility of reconciling some of the statements of Fernando with many of the other statements found in the contemporaneous records. If the narrative of the son in regard to the course of the father is followed, the student will find himself in a labyrinth of difficulties. Fernando would have us believe that immediately after entering Spain his father went to the court of Medina Celi, and a little later had his famous experience at the monastery of La Rabida. But it is impossible to reconcile such a statement with the subsequent current of events. We know, as we shall presently see, that Columbus was two years in the house of the Duke of Medina Celi, and that at the end of that period he took a letter of introduction and commendation to Cardinal Mendoza at the court of Ferdinand and Isabella. We know also that the visit to La Rabida was the cause of a letter being written which induced Columbus to take that journey to the court, which resulted in the ultimate adoption of his cause. The letter of Medina, moreover, assured the monarch that Columbus was on the point of taking his enterprise to the court of France. This assertion appears to be altogether incompatible with the supposition that the abode of Columbus with Medina Celi was in the early part of his residence in Spain. Not to present a tedious array of irreconcilable details, it is perhaps enough to say that if the statement of Fernando is once rejected, the way is, for the most part, easy and clear. If we once adopt the supposition that the abode with Medina Celi began in 1489, and that the visit to La Rabida was in September or October of 1491, we shall rest on the authority of Las Casas, and shall find that the difficulties in the way of accounting for the movements of Columbus are chiefly removed. Against this supposition, moreover, there is no evidence except the statement of Fernando, published not less than eighty years after the events it purports to describe.

With this explanation let us endeavour to point out the course of Columbus in the light of the original evidence.

Before we can understand the course that was taken, we must glance at the general condition of Spain.

The modern Inquisition was established in Castile by royal decree in September of 1480. It proceeded with so much energy that in the course of the following year, it is estimated that no less than two thousand persons were burned at the stake. The queen appears to have had some scruples in regard to this wholesale slaughter; but these were allayed by Pope Sixtus the Fourth, who encouraged her by an audacious reference to the example of Christ, who, he said, established his kingdom by the destruction of idolatry. This teaching was effective. In the autumn of 1483 the terrible Torquemada was appointed Inquisitor-General, and clothed with full powers to reorganize the Holy Office and exterminate heresy. From that time until the end of this inquisitor’s term of office, according to the estimation of Llorente, the annual number of persons condemned to torture was more than six thousand, and in the course of the whole period more than ten thousand were burned alive. The success of the Inquisition in Castile was so satisfactory that Ferdinand resolved to introduce it into Aragon. Notwithstanding a remonstrance of the Cortes, the auto-da-fÉ, with all its horrors, was set up at Saragossa in the month of May, 1485. The Aragonese, despairing of any other way of protecting themselves, resolved upon an appalling act of violence. Arbues, the most odious of the inquisitors, was attacked by a band of conspirators and assassinated on his knees before the great altar of the cathedral, in a manner that reminds us of the death of Thomas À Becket at Canterbury. The whole kingdom was consequently thrown into turmoil.

But there were other causes of anxiety. This very year the prevalence of the plague added to the general solicitude. In some of the southern districts of the kingdom the ravages of the pestilence showed not only the appalling condition of the people, but also the necessity of governmental assistance. In several of the cities as many as eight or ten thousand of the inhabitants were swept away. In Seville alone the number that perished this very year was no less than fifteen thousand.

Just at this juncture, moreover, the coin of the realm was adulterated, and a fatal shock was given to commercial credit. The people very generally refused to receive the debased money in payment of debts. Prices of ordinary articles rose to such a height as to be above the reach of the poorer classes of the community. Great destitution prevailed, and the resources of the Government were put to the severest strain. Even if there had been no other tax upon the treasures of the king and queen, the time would not have been propitious for an application like that of Columbus.

But there was another and a still more important reason. For more than three years the terrible war against the Moors had been taxing the resources of the united armies of Ferdinand and Isabella. When the Genoese navigator entered Spain, the court was making active preparations for a vigorous continuation of that titanic struggle. The rival kings of Granada had formed a coalition that now called for the most prompt and vigorous action. The headquarters of the king and queen were established at Cordova, where the active operations in the field could be most easily and successfully directed; and all the resources of Castile and Aragon were called into requisition to meet these emergencies in the famous contest of the Cross against the Crescent.

No one can fairly judge either of the generosity or of the justice of the monarchs in dealing with Columbus, without taking into consideration all these prior obligations. At the very moment when this enterprising navigator applied for assistance, there must have arisen to the minds of Ferdinand and Isabella a vivid consciousness of the ominous ferment caused by the work of the Inquisition; of the suffering occasioned by the plague; of the starvation that everywhere appealed for help in consequence of the debasement of the currency and the rise in prices; and, finally, of the all-absorbing necessity of bringing every resource of the country to bear upon the ending of this terrible war against Granada. Nor can it be forgotten that the war was still to make its demands upon the country for six years. In view of all the facts, it is difficult to imagine a concurrence of circumstances more unfavorable to the application. The monarchs could not have been justly blamed if they had summarily declared that a granting of the application was impossible. And yet, that they were unwilling to reject the application outright, the course of events abundantly shows.

Columbus, in a letter dated the 14th of January, 1493, says that seven years the twentieth of that month had rolled away since he entered the service of the Spanish monarchs. This exact statement, corroborated in substance as it is by others, would seem to fix the date of his entering the Spanish service as the 20th of January, 1486. What the nature of this service was, cannot now be determined. Nor do we know whether from this time he received pecuniary support. The first record of such assistance, indeed the first authentic documentary evidence of his being in Spain, occurs in an entry in the books of the royal treasurer for the 5th of May, 1487. Under this date is found the following entry: “To-day paid three thousand maravedis [about twenty dollars] to Christopher Columbus, stranger, who is here employed in certain things for their Highnesses, under the direction of Alphonso de Quintanilla, by order of the bishop.” In one of his letters to Ferdinand, Columbus says: “As soon as your Highness had knowledge of my desire [to visit the Indies], you protected me and honored me with favors.”

While there is nothing in these assertions to indicate the exact date when Columbus began to receive pecuniary assistance, we are justified in the inference that it was in January of 1486.

There is no evidence, however, that Columbus presented himself at the Spanish capital before the following spring. Surely the times must have seemed to him inauspicious. The monarchs had established themselves at Cordova as the most convenient place for the headquarters of the army. Early in the year, the king marched off to lay siege to the Moorish city of Illora, while Isabella remained at Cordova to forward the necessary troops and supplies. A little later we find both monarchs, in person, carrying on the siege of Moclin. Scarcely had they returned to Cordova, however, when they were obliged to set out for Galicia to suppress the rebellion of the Count of Lemos.

During this summer of military turmoil, Columbus remained at Cordova vainly waiting for an opportunity to present his cause. Fortunately he was not without some encouragement; for he had gained the favor of Alonzo de Quintanilla, whose guest he became, and through whom he made the acquaintance of Geraldini, the preceptor of the younger children of Ferdinand and Isabella.

When the monarchs repaired to the northern town of Salamanca for the winter, Columbus also went thither with his friends Quintanilla and Geraldini. Here it was that the cause of the explorer first had a formal hearing.

At this audience it is not probable that Queen Isabella was present; at least, the only part of the discussion taken by the monarchs seems to have been that of the king. It is said that Columbus unfolded his scheme with entire self-possession. He appears to have been neither dazzled nor daunted; for in a letter to the sovereign, in 1501, he declares that on this occasion “he felt himself kindled as with a fire from on high, and considered himself as an agent chosen by Heaven to accomplish a grand design.”

But so important a matter as that now urged upon the sovereigns was not to be entered upon lightly or in haste. However willing the king may have been to be the promoter of discoveries far more important than those which had shed glory upon Portugal, he was too cool and shrewd a man to decide a matter hastily which involved so many scientific principles. Of the details of what followed we have no authentic account. After more than a hundred years had passed away, and the glory of the discovery had come in some measure to be appreciated, the claim was set up that a congress or junta of learned men was called together, and that the whole subject was submitted to their consideration. The account, however, is accompanied with many suspicious circumstances. The historian Remesal was a Dominican monk and a member of the monastery of St. Stephen at Salamanca, where, it is said, the junta was held. In his narrative he claims that the ecclesiastical members, for the most part monks of St. Stephen, listened with approval to the presentation of the case, while those who might be called the scientific members strenuously opposed it. This statement, which is the basis of Irving’s account, is not only inherently improbable, but is supported by no contemporaneous evidence whatever. The absence of such evidence, moreover, is enough to condemn the whole story. The records of the monastery, which are supposed to be complete, contain no reference to any such meeting. Las Casas, himself a Dominican, would have been sure to introduce the account into his narrative if it had rested upon any basis of fact. He makes no allusion to any such meeting, and we are forced to conclude that the story was fabricated for ecclesiastical purposes. But although no such formal meeting was ever held, there is evidence that Ferdinand obtained, in an informal way, the opinions of some of the most learned men of the time.

The city of Salamanca, where this order was issued, seemed in every way favourable for such a hearing; for at this ancient capital was situated one of the most renowned universities of Spain. It is difficult to suppose that the professors of that venerable institution were not familiar with the latest theories in regard to the sphericity of the earth; but notwithstanding this fact, Columbus had to confront, not only the prudent conservatism of learning, but also the obstinate conservatism of the Church. The faculties were made up partly of ecclesiastics, and partly of others who soon became fully imbued with the ecclesiastical spirit. It was at a time when there was no more thought of tolerating heresy than there was of tolerating arson. The Inquisition, as we have just seen, had recently been established. In both the king and the queen an ardent religious zeal was united with great political and military skill, as well as great personal popularity. Heresy was the most dangerous of crimes, and the strictest adherence to traditional doctrines was encouraged by all the considerations of loyalty, of interest, and of prudence. To the dark colours in which heresy was painted by the Church in the fifteenth century, a still deeper hue was now added by the horrors of the Moorish wars. It is therefore easy to explain why the people of Spain surpassed the people of other countries in the fervour of religious intolerance. Columbus was obliged to plead the cause of his departure from traditional methods in an atmosphere charged with all these predispositions, prejudices, and motives. By the vulgar crowd the navigator had persistently been scoffed at as a visionary; but with something of the hopeful enthusiasm of an adventurer, he had steadily maintained the belief that it was only necessary to meet a body of enlightened men to insure their conversion to his cause.

But his hopefulness was destined to be disabused. We can well believe that his project appeared in a somewhat unfavourable light before the learned men of the day. To them he was simply an obscure navigator, and a foreigner at that, depending upon nothing more than the force of the reasons he might be able to present. Some of them, no doubt, looked upon him simply as an adventurer, while others were disposed to manifest their impatience at any doctrinal innovation. The predominance of opinion seemed to intrench itself in the belief that after so many cosmographers and navigators had been studying and exploring the globe for centuries, it was simply an absurd presumption to suppose that any new discoveries of importance were now to be made.

The discussion, almost at the very first, was taken out of the domain of science. Instead of attempting to present astronomical and geographical objections to the proposed voyage, the objectors assailed the scheme with citations from the Bible and from the Fathers of the Church. The book of Genesis, the Psalms of David, the Prophets, and the Gospels were all put upon the witness-stand and made to testify to the impossibility of success. Saint Chrysostom, Saint Augustine, Lactantius, Saint Jerome, Saint Gregory, and a host of others, were cited as confirmatory witnesses. Philosophical and mathematical demonstrations received no consideration. The simple proposition of Columbus that the earth was spherical was met with texts of Scripture in a manner that was worthy of Father Jasper.

These various presentations, however, were by no means in vain; for there was far from unanimity of opinion. There were a few who admitted that Saint Thomas Aquinas and Saint Isadore might be right in believing the earth to be globular in form; though even these were inclined to deny that circumnavigation was possible. It is a pleasure to note, however, that there was one conspicuous exception to the general current of opposition and resistance. Whether dating from this period we do not know, but it is certain that an early interest was taken in the cause by Diego de Deza, a learned friar of the order of St. Dominic, who afterward became archbishop of Seville, one of the highest ecclesiastical dignitaries of the realm. Deza appears to have risen quite above the limitations of mere ecclesiastical lore; for he not only took a generous interest in the cause of the explorer, but he seconded and encouraged his efforts with all the means at his command. Perhaps it was by his efforts that so deep an impression was made on the most learned men of the conference. However this may have been, the ignorant and the prejudiced remained obstinate in their opposition, and so the season at Salamanca passed away without bringing the monarchs to any decision.

After the winter of 1486–87, there occurred a long and painful period of delays. In the following spring the court departed from Salamanca and went to Cordova to prepare for the memorable campaign against Malaga. Columbus accompanied the expedition in the vain hope that there would be an opportunity for a further hearing. At one time when the Spanish armies were encamped on the hills and plains surrounding the beleaguered city, Columbus was summoned to court; but amid the din of a terrible contest there was no place for a calm consideration of the great maritime project. The summer was full of incident and peril. At one time the king was surprised and nearly cut off by the craft of the old Moorish monarch; at another a Moorish fanatic attempted to assassinate both king and queen, only to be cut to pieces after he had wounded the prince of Portugal and the Marchioness de Moya, supposing them to be Ferdinand and Isabella.

But it is easy to imagine that this seemingly untoward event contributed to help on the cause of Columbus. The Marchioness de Moya had warmly espoused his cause, and the attempt upon her life can hardly have failed to appeal to the interest of Queen Isabella.

Malaga surrendered in August, and the king and queen almost immediately returned to Cordova. The pestilence, however, very soon made that old city an unsafe abode. For a while the court was in what might be called the turmoil of migration. At one time it was in Valladolid, at another in Saragossa, at another in Medina de Campo. But during all this period its ardent business was the pressing forward of the Spanish armies into the Moorish territories. As every reader of Irving knows, the ground was stubbornly contested, inch by inch. Columbus remained for the most part with the army; but he sought in vain for the quiet necessary for a dispassionate hearing.

It could hardly have been otherwise. Ferdinand and Isabella have often been reproached with needless delays in the matter of rendering the required assistance; but such a reproach cannot be justified. The custom of the time sanctioned, even if it did not require, that the court should accompany the military camp. The Government was not only at the head of the army, but it was actually and continuously in the field. All other questions were absorbed by the military interests of the moment; and it would have been singular indeed, if, in such a situation, the resources of the treasury had been called upon to subsidize an expedition that as yet had been unable to secure the approval of the learned men who had been asked to consider its merits. It would be difficult to show that the course taken by the monarchs was not both wise and natural. The period of the war was a fit time in which to ascertain the merits of the proposal; and if after the contest should be brought to an end, the reports should be found favorable, the expedition could be fitted out with such assistance as might comport with the condition of the treasury and the necessities of the case.

But, on the other hand, it was not singular that Columbus was at this time wearied and discouraged by the delays. The end of the war was still involved in great uncertainty, and there was no assurance that even at the return of peace his proposals would receive the royal approval and support. It was not unnatural, then, that he began to think of applying elsewhere for assistance. In the spring of 1488 he wrote to the king of Portugal, asking permission to return to that country. The reply, received on the 20th of March, not only extended the desired invitation, but also gave him the significant assurance of protection against any suits of a criminal or civil nature that might be pending against him. About the same time he seems also to have received a letter from Henry VII. of England, inviting him to that country, and holding out certain vague promises of encouragement. Though this letter was doubtless the fruit of the efforts made by his brother Bartholomew, there is no evidence that Columbus ever thought favourably of accepting the invitation. Why it was that he delayed going to Portugal until late in the autumn cannot be determined with certainty. It is, however, not difficult to conjecture. Harrisse has found in the treasury-books memoranda of small amounts of money paid to Columbus from time to time during his stay in the vicinity of the Spanish court. Ferdinand and Isabella were sufficiently interested in the project to be unwilling that he should carry his proposition to another monarch. At least, they were anxious that he should not commit himself elsewhere until they should have had opportunity to examine into the project with care; and then, at the close of the war, if it seemed best, they would give him the needed support. Accordingly, elaborate preparations for a new hearing were at once made. No less than three royal orders were issued,—one summoning Columbus to a council of learned men at Seville; one directing the city authorities to provide lodgings for the navigator, as for an officer of the government; another commanding the magistrates of the cities along the way to furnish accommodations for him and for his attendants.

These orders were all carried out; but the conference was postponed, and finally interrupted by the opening of the campaign for the summer. The annals of Seville contain a statement that in this campaign Columbus was found fighting and “giving proofs of the distinguishing valor which accompanied his wisdom and his lofty desires.” What we positively know of the course of events may be summed up as follows. On the 3d of July, 1487, he received the second stipend in money. At the end of the following August we find him at the siege of Malaga. In the winter of 1487–88 he was at Cordova, when his relations with Beatriz Enriquez resulted in the birth of his son Fernando on the 15th of August, 1488. On the 16th of June of this year Columbus received the third allowance of money. Early in the spring he had asked for permission to return to Portugal, and the letter granting his request bears date of the 20th of March. The journey was not undertaken, however, until after the birth of his son. When he went, and how long he remained in Portugal, are uncertain; for the only positive proof that he took the journey at all is a memorandum in his own handwriting, dated at Lisbon in December of 1488. It is, however, interesting to note that this memorandum, made in his copy of Cardinal d’Ailly’s “Imago Mundi,” calls attention to the return of Diaz from his voyage to the Cape of Good Hope. It is, however, definitely ascertained that he returned in the spring of 1489; for on the 12th of May of that year an order was issued to all the authorities of the cities through which he passed, to furnish him all needed support and assistance at the royal expense.

The fact that this is the last time that Columbus figures in the order-books of the treasury has led Harrisse to infer that the navigator saw no immediate chance of success, and so for a time abstained from the further pressing of his suit.

We are thus brought to the autumn of 1489, when Columbus, seeing little reason for hope, but still not so discouraged as to abandon his cause, formed an acquaintance which proved to be of incalculable value. How the acquaintance came about, we have no means of knowing. The authorities are so at variance with one another on the subject that there has been much difference of opinion as to the time when the acquaintance was formed. Irving and the larger number of modern writers have supposed that the events which resulted from this connection occurred soon after Columbus entered Spain. Harrisse, however, has pointed out with great acumen the difficulties in the way of accepting this supposition, and has established at least an overwhelming probability that the residence of the navigator with the Duke of Medina Celi extended from the early months of 1490 to the end of 1491.

At the beginning of the fifteenth century Spain was still very largely made up of principalities that were practically independent. Two of these were possessed and governed by the Dukes of Medina Sidonia and Medina Celi. In the wars against Naples, as well as in the long struggle against the Moors, these noblemen fitted out expeditions and conducted campaigns with something like regal independence and magnitude. They lived in royal splendour, and dispensed a royal hospitality. As their vast states lay along the sea-coast at the southwest of Spain, where they had ships and ports, as well as hosts of retainers, it is not singular that this enterprising refugee from the Spanish camp found his way into their domains.

With Medina Sidonia, Columbus seems to have had no special success, though the nobleman is reported to have given him many interviews. The very splendour of the project may have thrown over it such a colouring of improbability as to raise a feeling of distrust. To the hard-headed old hero of so many campaigns, the proposal was simply the undertaking of an Italian visionary.

But upon Medina Celi the navigator made a more favourable impression. Unfortunately, we are dependent for information almost solely upon the statements of the duke. But the narrative has the air of probability. He says that he entertained Columbus for two years at his house. At one time he had gone so far as to set apart and fit out several of his own ships for the purposes of an expedition; but it suddenly occurred to him that an enterprise of such magnitude and importance should go forth under no less sanction than that of the sovereign power. Finding that Columbus in his disappointment had decided to turn next to the king of France, the duke determined to write to Queen Isabella and recommend him strongly to her favourable consideration. Among other things, he wrote that the glory of such an enterprise, if successful, should be kept by the monarchs of Spain. Of the kind favour of the duke there can be no question; for the letter of introduction carried by Columbus is still preserved. This important document not only commends the bearer to favourable consideration, but it also asks that in case the favour should be granted, the duke himself might have the privilege of a share in the enterprise, and that the expedition might be fitted out at his own port of St. Marie, as a recompense for having waived his privilege in favour of the grant.

During the next year and a half the prospect seemed in no way more propitious. Columbus, even though he now had the support of Medina Celi, must have been reduced to something like desperation. The court was making preparations for a final campaign against Granada, with a full determination never to raise the siege until the Spanish flag should float above the last Moorish citadel. Columbus knew that when once the campaign should be entered upon, it would be vain to expect any attention to his cause. Accordingly, he pressed for an immediate answer. The sovereigns called upon the queen’s confessor, Talavera, to obtain the opinions of the scientific men and to report their decision. This order was complied with; but after due consideration, a majority decided that the proposed scheme was vain and impossible.

This answer would seem to have been, for the time at least, conclusive; but the men consulted were by no means unanimous. On the contrary, several of the learned members strenuously exerted themselves in favour of the enterprise. Of these the most earnest and influential was the friar Diego de Deza, who, owing to his influential position as tutor of Prince John, had ready access to the royal ear. The matter, therefore, was not peremptorily dismissed. The monarchs, instead of rejecting the application outright, ordered Talavera to inform Columbus that the expense of the war and the cares attending it made it impossible to undertake any new enterprise; but that when peace should be assured, the sovereigns would have leisure and inclination to reconsider the whole question.

Disheartened and indignant at what he considered nothing more than a courtly method of evading and dismissing his suit, Columbus resolved immediately to turn his back upon the Spanish court. For six years he had now pleaded his cause, apparently in vain. Hoping for nothing further, he determined to seek the patronage of the king of France.

It is interesting to note that, taking his boy Diego with him, he made his way to that very seaport town upon which a little later he was to bestow an undying fame by embarking from it on his memorable expedition. Notwithstanding the fact that Medina Celi had given him a home, he must have been reduced to extreme poverty. He seems not only to have travelled on foot, but also to have been under the necessity of begging even for a crust of bread.

Just before he was to reach the port at Palos, Columbus stopped at the gate of the convent of Santa Maria de la Rabida to ask for food and water for himself and his little boy. It happened that the prior of the convent was Juan Parez de Marchena, a friar who had once been the confessor of Queen Isabella. He appears to have had some geographical knowledge; for he at once interested himself in the conversation of Columbus, and was greatly impressed with the grandeur of his views. On hearing that the navigator was to abandon Spain and turn to the court of France, his patriotism was aroused. He not only urged the hospitality of the convent upon the traveller until further advice could be taken, but within a few days he enlisted two or three persons of influence for his cause. One of these was Garcia Fernandez, a physician; another was Martin Alonzo Pinzon, an experienced navigator of Palos. Pinzon, on hearing what was proposed, was so fully convinced of the feasibility of the plan that he offered to bear the expense of the new application, and, if successful, to assist the expedition with his purse and his person.

But it was to the prior of the convent that Columbus was to be most indebted. The result of their several interviews was the determination that the queen’s old confessor should make one further appeal. With this end in view, a courier was despatched with a letter. It was successful. After a wearisome journey of fourteen days, the messenger returned with a note summoning Perez to the royal court, then encamped about Granada. At midnight of the same day the prior mounted his mule and set out on his mission of persuasion.

On arriving at the camp, Perez was received with a welcome that gave him great freedom. As the queen’s old confessor, he had immediate access to the royal presence, and he pleaded the project of the navigator with fervid enthusiasm. He defended the scientific principles on which it was founded; he urged the unquestionable capacity of Columbus to carry out the undertaking; he pictured not only the advantages that must come from success, but also the glory that would accrue to the Government under whose patronage success should be achieved.

The queen listened with attention. It is interesting to note that the cause was warmly seconded by the queen’s favourite, the same Marchioness de Moya whose life had been imperilled by the dagger of the Moorish fanatic. A decision was reached without much delay. The queen not only requested that Columbus might be sent to her, but she gave the messengers a purse to bear the necessary expenses, and to enable the maritime suitor to travel and present himself with decency and comfort.

The successful friar at once returned to the convent, and reported the result of his mission to his waiting friends. Without delay, Columbus exchanged his garb for one suited to the atmosphere of the court, and set out for the royal presence.

In his journal, as quoted by Las Casas, Columbus tells us that he arrived at Granada in time to see the end of that memorable war. After a struggle of nearly eight hundred years, the Crescent had at length succumbed to the Cross, and the banners of Spain were planted on the highest tower of the Alhambra. The jubilee that followed had all the characteristics of Spanish magnificence. But in these festivities Columbus probably took only the part of an observer. By one of the Spanish historians he is represented as “melancholy and dejected in the midst of general rejoicings.”

As soon as the festivities were over, his cause had a hearing. Fernando de Talavera, now elevated to the archbishopric of Granada, was appointed to carry on the negotiations. At the very outset, however, difficulties arose that seemed to be insuperable. Columbus would listen to none but princely conditions. He made the stupendous mistake of demanding that he should be admiral and viceroy over all the countries he might discover. As pecuniary compensation, he also asked for a tenth of all gains either by trade or conquest.

It can hardly be considered singular that the courtiers were indignant at what they regarded as his extravagant requirements. Though Columbus had seen much and hard service at sea, his experience hitherto had not been of a nature to reveal any extraordinary ability. For six years he had been simply a wandering suppliant for royal favour. What he now demanded was to be put into the very highest rank in the realm. As admiral and viceroy he would stand next to the sovereigns on land, as well as on sea. What he asked as compensation, though it would stimulate every temptation to abuse, was not of so unreasonable a nature. But to promote this obscure navigator, and a foreigner at that, over all the veterans who had for perhaps half a century been faithfully earning recognition, seemed very naturally to the archbishop preposterous indeed. One of the courtiers observed with a sneer that it was a shrewd arrangement that he proposed, whereby in any event he would have the honor of the command and the rank, while he had nothing whatever to lose in case of failure. Though Columbus, doubtless remembering the offer of Pinzon, offered to furnish one eighth of the cost, on condition of having one eighth of the profits, his terms were pronounced inadmissible. The commission represented to the queen that, even in case of success, the demands would be exorbitant, while in case of failure, as evidence of extraordinary credulity, they would subject the Crown to ridicule.

More than all this, the terms demanded were of such a nature as to stir the jealousy and hostility of all the less fortunate naval commanders. Columbus has been represented by Irving and many of the other biographers as having shown in these demands a loftiness of spirit and a firmness of purpose that are worthy of the highest commendation. But when one looks at the far-reaching consequences of the terms insisted upon, one can hardly fail to see in them the source of very much of the unhappiness and opposition that followed him throughout his career. The strenuousness of his terms, by throwing wide open the door to every form of abuse, detracted from his happiness and diminished his claim to greatness.

But Columbus would listen to nothing less than all these conditions. More moderate terms were offered, and such as now seem in every way to have been honourable and advantageous. But all was in vain. He would not cede a single point in his demands. The negotiations accordingly had to be broken off. He determined to abandon the court of Spain forever rather than detract one iota from the dignity of the great enterprise he had in view. We are told that, taking leave of his friends, he mounted his mule and sallied forth from Santa FÉ, intending immediately to present his cause at the court of France.

But no sooner had he gone than the friends who had ardently supported him were filled with something like consternation. They determined to make one last appeal directly to the queen. The agents of this movement were the royal treasurer, Luis de Santangel, and Alonzo de Quintanilla. Santangel was the one who presented the cause. On two points he placed special stress, and he urged them with great power and eloquence. The first may be condensed into the phrase that while the loss would, in any event, be but trifling, the gain, in case of success, would be incalculable. In the second place he urged that if the enterprise were not undertaken by Spain, it would doubtless be taken up by one of the rival nations and carried to triumphant success. He then appealed to what the queen was in the habit of doing for the glory of God, the exaltation of the Church, and the extension of her own power and dominion. Here, it was urged, was an opportunity to surpass them all. He called attention to the offer of Columbus to bear an eighth of the expense, and advised her that the requisites for the enterprise would not exceed three thousand crowns. The Marchioness de Moya was present, and added her eloquence to that of Santangel.

These representations had the desired effect, and the queen resolved on the spot to undertake the enterprise. The story, so often repeated, that the queen pledged her jewels for the necessary expense, rests upon no contemporaneous evidence, and has recently been shown to be extremely improbable. It was not necessary, for Santangel declared that he was ready to supply the money out of the treasury of Aragon. The adoption of the cause by the queen was complete and unconditional.

It was in the narrow pass at the foot of Mount Elvira, a few miles from Granada, that the swift messenger of this good news overtook Columbus on his dejected retreat. No very fertile fancy is required to imagine with some confidence the emotions of the explorer as he listened to the story of the queen’s new decision. Turning the rein, he hastened his jaded mule with all possible speed to the royal court at Santa FÉ.

For reasons which it is not easy to understand, there were still considerable delays before the requisite papers received their final signature. Whether there were disagreements still to be adjusted cannot now be known. Columbus returned to the court early in February, but it was not until the 17th of April that the stipulations had been duly made out and signed.

In form the papers were the work of the royal secretary, but they received the assent and signature of both monarchs. The principal commission is of so much importance that it is here given in full:—

1. First, your Highnesses, in virtue of your dominion over the said seas, shall constitute from this time forth the said Don Christopher Columbus your admiral in all the islands and territories which he may discover or acquire in the said seas, this power to continue in him during his life, and at his death to descend to his heirs and successors from one to another perpetually, with all the dignities and prerogatives appertaining to the said office, and according to the manner in which this dignity has been held by Don Alonzo Henriquez, your High Admiral of Castile, and by the other admirals in their several districts.

2. Furthermore, your Highnesses shall constitute the said Don Christopher Columbus your viceroy and governor-general in all the said islands and territories to be discovered in the said seas; and for the government of each place three persons shall be named by him, out of which number your Highnesses shall select one to hold the office in question.

3. Furthermore, in the acquisition by trade, discovery, or any other method, of all goods, merchandise, pearls, precious stones, gold, silver, spices, and all other articles, within the limits of the said admiralty, the tenth part of their value shall be the property of the said Don Christopher Columbus, after deducting the amount expended in obtaining them, and the other nine tenths shall be the property of your Highnesses.

4. Furthermore, if any controversy or law-suit should arise in these territories relating to the goods which he may obtain there, or relating to any goods which others may obtain by trade in the same places, the jurisdiction in the said cases shall, by virtue of his office of admiral, pertain to him alone or his deputy, provided the said prerogative belong to the office of admiral, according as that dignity has been held by the above-mentioned Admiral Don Alonzo Henriquez, and the others of that rank in their several districts, and provided the said regulation be just.

5. Furthermore, in the fitting out of any fleets for the purpose of trade in the said territories, the said Don Christopher Columbus shall on every such occasion be allowed the privilege of furnishing one eighth of the expenses of the expedition, and shall at such times receive an eighth part of the profits arising therefrom.

In the formal commission we find these words:

“We therefore by this commission confer on you the office of admiral, viceroy, and governor, to be held in hereditary possession forever, with all the privileges and salaries pertaining thereto.”

Surely these were extraordinary powers. From any unjust exercise of supreme authority in the lands Columbus might discover, there was to be no appeal. The authority was limited, moreover, by neither custom nor method. In the matter of governorships he was to have the sole right of nomination, and in all questions of dispute in regard to his own interest in goods obtained either by himself or by anybody else, he or his deputy was to have sole jurisdiction. The temptation to exercise these powers for the oppression of a barbarous people would seem, even under the most favourable circumstances, to be quite as much as human nature could bear. But the circumstances were not favourable. The danger was in the fact that a high pecuniary premium was put upon the abuse of authority.

The promise of a tenth of all that the Admiral might acquire by trade, discovery, “or any other method,” was a powerful stimulant to cruelty and cupidity. Unfortunately, the age was one when every people that did not avow Christianity was regarded as legitimate spoil for the Christian invader. This fact took away the last feeble guarantee of public opinion. In estimating the character of Columbus we must remember that he was subjected to the temptations of unlimited authority, of immeasurable opportunity, and of exemption from all accountability, either to the Government or to public opinion. His place in history must ultimately be determined by the manner in which it shall be shown that he administered this trust.

The fact should not be overlooked that there was always a powerful religious motive in all the plans of Columbus. One of his purposes in seeking to reach eastern Asia by sailing westward was an opening of the way for the conversion of the people to Christianity. His writings abound in expressions of this desire. In all his plans for his expedition he made prominent his wish to gain the means necessary for the conquest of the Holy Land. In his nature and his faith there was much of the religious zeal of the mediÆval Crusader, united with a tendency to indulge in the fervid religious rhetoric of the seventeenth-century Puritan. Columbus hoped, by these explorations in the west, to acquire the means of succeeding in that enterprise of bringing Jerusalem back into the control of Christianity, which for three centuries had baffled the efforts of all Christendom.

During the six long years of Columbus’s waiting in Spain, the relations of Ferdinand and Isabella to the projects of Columbus were such as to merit our high commendation. We have seen that immediately after his cause was presented to the sovereigns for consideration, it was referred to the most learned men in the vicinity of the court. It is difficult to conjecture how any disposition of the question could, at that time, have been more appropriate. Whenever the subject was presented anew, a similar reference of the subject was made. From no one of these references was there received a favourable report. But when the war had been brought to a close, and when, in consequence, there was opportunity for a personal examination of the matter, the whole subject was taken into sympathetic consideration. The romantic and religious elements of the project appealed strongly to Isabella. Ferdinand acted with characteristic caution. The needed money appears to have been taken from the chest of the king, but only on condition that in due time it should be restored, if need be, from the chest of the queen. Thus it may be said that the husband loaned the trifling subsidy necessary for the enterprise, on the security of his wife. This arrangement suited both monarchs, and therefore both signed the commissions of the Admiral.

If we were asked for the names of those who rendered the highest service to Columbus during this trying period, the answer would not be easy. In the immediate vicinity of the court Alfonso de Quintanilla was the first to espouse his cause with ardour, and he remained an unswerving advocate. Among those to whom the cause was submitted for advice, the ecclesiastic, Diego de Deza, is entitled to the credit of having been the first and the most faithful of supporters. The Duke of Medina Celi gave to the navigator the support which detained him at a moment when he seemed to be on the point of abandoning Spain forever. The friar of La Rabida, Juan Parez de Marchena, the old confessor of the queen, made a successful effort to renew the suit after all hope had been abandoned. And finally, when the demands of Columbus seemed preposterous for their magnitude, the united efforts of Santangel, the Marchioness de Moya, Quintanilla, and Talavera succeeded in bringing the queen up to the point of a favourable decision. To all of these advocates no small quota of the credit for success is due. But in distributing this credit there must be no forgetting or obscuring of the work of Columbus himself. We have seen that the advocacy of the navigator was full of inconsistencies and extravagances. He was a foreigner, and one that looked very much like an adventurer. The time and the circumstances seemed the most inopportune. All these facts argued strongly against his cause. But in spite of them all, his knowledge, his courage, his faith, his tact, and his persistency were enough to hold a band of powerful advocates firmly to his great cause, and, in the end, bring it to success. Whatever abatements from an unreasonable glorification of Columbus modern research may feel compelled to make, these are great qualities, which the progress of time can never efface or obscure.