The Fatal Pearls
Tierra Firme
It was in May, 1498. The fleet of Admiral Don Christopher Columbus, in the name of the Holy Trinity, set sail from Spain for a third voyage across the Atlantic.
It was no longer a Sea of Darkness to Columbus, but a sure pathway to golden lands. There he still hoped to find the Earthly Paradise from which Adam and Eve had been driven. And there too, he still expected to discover Cathay the Golden in Tartary, and Cipango, the great island of the western sea, which we call Japan.
His ships sailed on, now plunging through the lifting billows, now lying becalmed on glassy waters under the fierce rays of the tropic sun, and now moving through a region of balmy airs and light refreshing breezes.
July arrived, yet he had not sighted land. The fierce heat of the sun had sprung the seams of the ships. The provisions were rancid. There was scarcely any sweet water left in the casks. The anxious, watchful Admiral scanned the horizon.
On the last day of the month, came a shout from the masthead:—“Land!”
And Columbus beheld the peaks of three mountains rising from the sea, outlined sharply against the sky. Then he and his men, lifting up their voices, sang anthems of praise and repeated prayers of thanksgiving.
As the ships drew nearer to the three peaks, Columbus perceived that they rose from an island and were united at their base.
“Three in one,” he said, and named the island after the Holy Trinity in whose name he had set sail. For he had vowed before leaving Spain, to name the first new land he saw after the Trinity. That is why that island, to-day, is called Trinidad.
They filled their casks there. Then onward they sailed, skirting the coast of Trinidad, hoping to find a harbour to put into while repairing the ships. Soon, they saw a misty headland opposite the island.
“It is another island,” said Columbus.
It was no island. Wonderful to relate, Columbus had just discovered a new Country.
It was the coastline of a vast southern continent. It was Tierra Firme. It was South America!
The Pearls
Young Indian braves, graceful and handsome, their black hair straight and long, their heads wrapped in brilliant scarfs, other bright scarfs wound round their middles, came in a canoe to visit Columbus’s ships.
Soon after this visit, Columbus set sail again, not knowing that he had just sighted one of the richest and greatest continents on earth. Sailing past the mouths of the mighty Orinoco River, pouring out their torrents with angry roar into the Caribbean Sea, Columbus skirted what is now called Venezuela.
Other friendly Indians came to his ships. It was then that Columbus saw for the first time the pearls which were to help ruin him, and which were to work wretchedness and death for so many poor Indian folk.
Among the friendly Indians were some who wore bracelets of lustrous pearls. The gold and spices got by Columbus on his former voyages were of slight beauty compared with those strings of magnificent pearls.
Columbus examined them eagerly. He longed for some to send back to Queen Isabella, in order to prove to her what a rich land he had just discovered.
He questioned the Indians. Where had they got the pearls? They came from their own land, and from a country to the north and west, they answered.
Columbus was eager to go thither. But first he sent men ashore to barter for some of the bracelets. With bright bits of earthenware, with buttons, scissors, and needles, they bought quantities of the pearls from the delighted Indians, to whom such articles were worth more than gold and jewels of which they had plenty.
Then Columbus, hoisting sail, ran farther along the coast purchasing pearls until he had half a bushel or so of the lustrous sea-jewels, some of them of very large size.
He named a great gulf, the Gulf of Pearls. He discovered other islands, among them the island of Margarita, which means a pearl.
After which he turned his ships toward Santo Domingo, not knowing how tragic a thing was to befall him there, partly on account of the pearls.
The Curse of the Pearls
Those fatal sea-jewels had already begun their evil work.
While Columbus was tarrying to collect them, a rebellion fomented by bad men who had taken advantage of his absence, had broken out in the Island of Santo Domingo. When Columbus reached there, he suppressed it. But his enemies hastened to send lying reports about him to the Spanish Court. And the courtiers, who were jealous of his high position, wealth, and power, urged King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella to have him deposed.
One of their accusations against him was, that he had held back from his Sovereigns their rightful portion of the rich find of pearls.
So at last, the royal edict went forth that the very magnificent Don Christopher Columbus, Admiral of the Ocean Sea, Viceroy and Governor of the Indies, should be tried and, if found guilty, deposed and returned to Spain.
The man sent to do all this, and govern in Columbus’s stead, was named Bobadilla.
Bobadilla arrived at Santo Domingo with royal commands for Columbus to surrender all power to him, and to obey him in everything. He caused him to be arrested and thrown into prison. He tried and condemned him. He ordered him put into chains. But no one could be found to rivet the chains until one of Columbus’s own servants, “a shameless and graceless cook,” did so with glee.
Then Bobadilla reigned in Columbus’s place over the Indies.
Meanwhile, the grand old Admiral broken in spirit, carped at by his foes, was placed in manacles aboard a caravel.
Bobadilla had given orders that the chains should not be removed, but the humane master of the ship offered to break them.
“Nay,” said Columbus with dignity, “my Sovereigns have commanded me to submit, and Bobadilla has chained me. I will wear these irons until by royal order they are removed. And I shall keep them as relics and memorials of the reward of my services.”
But when Queen Isabella learned how he had been brought back to Spain in shackles, she was greatly angered. Both Sovereigns commanded that he should be immediately released. And when the venerable Columbus grown old in her service, entered her presence, Queen Isabella wept bitterly. Columbus fell at her feet, unable to utter a word, so great was his sorrow.
Both Sovereigns promised to restore all his titles and the wealth which had been taken from him by force. But though Bobadilla was finally deposed from power because of his treatment of Columbus and because of his evil rule, yet the royal promise was not fulfilled. His titles and property were never restored to Columbus.
Instead, he was again sent overseas, on a fourth voyage of discovery.
With four miserable caravels manned by only a hundred and fifty men, the gray-headed, weary Columbus set forth once more still hoping to discover the country of Kublai Khan, and find the Earthly Paradise. And this time Columbus took with him his younger son, Ferdinand, who was thirteen years old.