Soon after this sickness broke out among the crews of the two caravels, while many bitterly blamed the Admiral, considering that all their misfortunes were owing to him.
Week after week went by, and no ships appearing, Columbus, with too much reason, feared that his friends had perished.
It had been arranged that Mendez, as soon as he could send off a vessel, was to proceed on to Spain with the Admiral’s despatches giving an account of his new discoveries, and that Fiesco was to return in a vessel to take him and his companions off from Jamacia.
Meantime, two brothers, Porras by name, the eldest of whom was a captain of one of the caravels, had concocted a vile plot to seize Columbus, capture the largest Indian canoes to be found, and go on in them to Hispaniola.
The Admiral was in his cabin, confined to his bed by gout, when, on the 2nd of January, 1504, Francisco de Porras entered, and, uttering bitter complaints, accused him of having no intention of returning to Spain.
Columbus maintained his calmness, and suggested that the officers should meet together, and decide what measures should be pursued. Porras, however, replied that there was no time for further consultations, and told the Admiral that he must either embark, or remain by himself. He then shouted, “I am for Castile! Those who choose may follow me!”
“I will follow you, and I, and I!” answered the crew, brandishing their weapons.
Columbus leapt from his bed, but fell. A few of his faithful adherents gathered round him, while the Adelantado sallied forth, lance in hand, to take the whole brunt of the assault. Columbus entreated that no blood might be shed, and told the mutineers that they might depart peaceably.
Hearing this, they at once prepared for embarking in ten canoes, which had been purchased of the Indians. Many who had not taken part in the mutiny joined the deserters, and the whole set off along the coast. As they proceeded they landed and committed outrages upon the Indians, robbing them of their provisions and whatever else they coveted. As they did so they told the Indians that Columbus would pay them, and advised them to kill him if he did not.
Reaching the eastern end of the island they put off, intending to stand across the gulf; but a heavy sea arose, and fearing that their light canoes would be swamped, they threw the helpless Indians, whom they had taken to paddle them, overboard. When some of the natives attempted to seize the gunwales and save themselves, the barbarians cut off their hands and stabbed them with their swords.
The deserters, on reaching land, took up their abode in an Indian village, the inhabitants of which they treated in their usual tyrannical manner. They then wandered from village to village, a dissolute gang, supporting themselves by robbery, and passing like a pestilence through the island.
Columbus, meantime, supported by conscious rectitude, devoted himself to relieving the sufferings of his sick companions who remained with him. The good faith with which he had ever acted towards the natives now produced a beneficial effect, and supplies of provisions were brought from time to time, which were scrupulously paid for. As, however, the trinkets lost their value, the supplies fell off, and at length entirely ceased. Every day the difficulty of procuring food increased, and when any was brought, a ten times higher price than formerly was asked for it. The atrocities committed by Porras and his party had produced an injurious effect on the minds of the natives, even against the Admiral, and they hoped that, by withholding provisions, either to starve him and his people, or to drive them from the island.
At this juncture Columbus ascertained that there would be a total eclipse of the moon in the early part of the night, and he, in consequence, conceived a device, which, according to the erroneous notions of those days, he probably considered a pious and excusable fraud. To make the natives believe in his superior powers, he invited the principal cacique and his followers to a conference, when he told them that the white men worshipped a great divinity, who would be displeased if his votaries were allowed to starve; and, lest they should despise his warning, the moon would be ordered to change its colour and gradually lose its light that very night. Many of the Indians were alarmed, others treated the prediction with derision.
When, however, they saw a dark shadow steal over the moon, seized with terror, they hurried to the ships, and entreated Columbus to intercede for them. He promised to do so, and, retiring to his cabin, waited until he saw that the eclipse was about to diminish, when, coming forth, he assured them that they would be pardoned, provided they fulfilled their promise, in sign of which he would withdraw the darkness from the moon.
The Indians once more seeing the planet shining brightly? came with all reverence to Columbus to propitiate him with gifts, and from that time forward there was no lack of provisions.
Many months went by, and at length more of his followers became desperate, and another conspiracy was formed by an apothecary Bernado, who, with two confederates, designed seizing the remaining canoes, and making their way to Hispaniola.
The mutiny was on the point of breaking out, when, just eight months after the arrival of the two shattered barks in the harbour, a vessel was seen in the offing. She stood in and a boat approached, in which was Diego de Escobar, a wretch who had been condemned to death by Columbus and pardoned by Bobadilla.
Putting a letter on board for the Admiral from Ovando, he then withdrew to a distance, and shouted out that he had been sent by the Governor to express his concern for the sufferings of Columbus, and his regret that he had no vessel of sufficient size to bring him off, but would send one as soon as possible.
This was the first intimation that Columbus had received of the safe voyage of Mendez and Fiesco. In writing an answer to Ovando, he vividly depicted the dangers of his situation, and recommended Mendez and Fiesco to his favour, assuring him that they were only sent to apply for succour. Escobar receiving the letter, returned on board, and making all sail, was soon lost to sight.
Columbus well knew that jealousy was the cause of Ovando’s cruel conduct, and that he had sent Escobar as one who would have no sympathy with his sufferings. Diego Mendez and his companions had nearly perished on their voyage across the channel, but he had at length reached the western end of Hispaniola, from whence he set off to coast in his canoe one hundred and thirty leagues to San Domingo. After proceeding eighty leagues against adverse currents and in danger from hostile tribes, he was informed on landing that the Governor was at Xaragua, fifty leagues away.
Undaunted by difficulties, he proceeded on foot through forests and over mountains, until he arrived at Xaragua, having achieved one of the most perilous expeditions ever undertaken by a devoted follower for the safety of his commander.
Ovando received him kindly, but kept him seven months under various pretexts, until he at length had permission to go to San Domingo, where he hoped to purchase a vessel to go to the rescue of his beloved commander.
When left in doubt, after the appearance of Escobar, as to whether assistance would really be sent, Columbus endeavoured by kind measures to win back Porras and his rebel crew to their allegiance.
Porras, however, who had formed a plan to attack and plunder the stranded caravels and make the Admiral prisoner, persuaded his men to hold out. On this the sturdy Adelantado resolved to try the effect of force, and taking with him fifty followers, he set out for the camp of the traitor.
On approaching he sent two messengers, who had before accepted the offer of pardon, to treat with Porras; but he would not permit them to approach, and he and his men, brandishing their weapons, defied the Adelantado, six of them vowing that they would put him to death. Two of the strongest of their number, however, quickly fell beneath his flashing sword; and many others lay killed or wounded, when Porras, rushing forward, struck at the Adelantado’s shield, in which his sword remained fixed. Before he could withdraw it, several of the Adelantado’s party closing on him, made him prisoner. His followers, seeing this, fled, and Don Bartholomew returned in triumph with his prisoner to the Admiral.
Next day the fugitives sent a petition, couched in abject terms, for pardon, swearing