by Andrew Rowen
Cristóbal interpreted the rejection as a test of his faith. He had come to believe that the Lord intended for him to achieve his voyage. As he walked through the battlefield and conquered city, he studied the smoldering funeral pyres of slain Christians and infidels, and the masses of infidels held in corrals pending their sale, and he realized the king and queen truly were engaged in a Holy War of transformative proportion. The sovereigns appeared sincere in their belief that the Lord directed them to pursue their war first and in their promise to reconsider his voyage. Cristóbal decided he would wait in Castile for their change of heart, but not exclusively.
Cristóbal returned to Córdoba and dispatched Bartolomé back to João’s court to plead again for a voyage and, if that failed, to proceed to the court of King Henry VII in England.
Cristóbal learned of João’s authorization of the voyage west from Jesus Christo and that it had utterly failed. Dulhmo had sailed west into the northern Ocean Sea in wintry March and encountered fierce westerly winds, made little progress, discovered nothing, and limped back to port with the crews ragged and sails torn. The expedition’s futility was said to be the butt of ridicule on Lisbon’s wharfs. Cristóbal took solace that his observations of the winds and currents—at both the Azores and the Canaries—remained unperceived and relished the outcome. He also learned that yet another explorer, Bartolomeu Dias, had sailed from Lisbon to attempt again the circumnavigation of Guinea.
CRISTÓBAL
Beatriz, Dias, Henry VII, and baby Fernando, 1487–1488
Beatriz Enríquez de Arana was born to a peasant farmer and wine presser in the hills west of Córdoba, orphaned at an early age, and raised by a devout grandmother and aunt who taught her to read and write. When these ladies also died, Beatriz was raised by her mother’s cousin Rodrigo de Arana, together with Rodrigo’s son Diego. Beatriz was unmarried and in her early twenties when Cristóbal returned to Córdoba from Málaga—about fifteen years his junior. Cristóbal and Diego de Arana had become acquaintances at a Genoese apothecary, and she had flirted with Cristóbal on a number of occasions.
In October 1487, Bishop Talavera authorized further stipends for Cristóbal to remain at court. But Cristóbal’s idea had now been considered and at best deferred by two kingdoms, and he realized its prospects were quite uncertain. He slept at night alone in poverty. Little Diego lived in Huelva with Violante, Bartolomé in Lisbon, Filipa and Susanna had departed, and Domenico yet survived in Genoa. Cristóbal reflected uneasily that Domenico would have scorned Cristóbal’s abandonment of the merchant’s career he had once achieved. Domenico had raised and supported five children, and Cristóbal couldn’t support his one. His voyage could secure nobility, wealth, and fame but, if the Lord so designed, he would spend his entire life without ever achieving it.
One afternoon, after meeting at the apothecary, Cristóbal and Diego de Arana passed by Rodrigo’s house, where Cristóbal met Beatriz in the garden. They chatted. Cristóbal enjoyed her intellect, and her literacy was unusual for a woman of her status. He saw her faith and was pleased. He told her of his voyages on the Ocean Sea and his meetings with João, Fernando, and Isabel, and she listened intently and appeared to understand his enthusiasm for his idea. Beatriz was younger than Filipa had been when Cristóbal first met her.
Beatriz listened to Cristóbal boast about his accomplishments and saw beyond the boasts to an inner excitement and faith that she found rare and captivating. Regardless of his obvious poverty, he was handsome and extraordinarily well self-taught. She told him of her youth and upbringing. She had no parents to decide her marriage and was free to do as she wished. He listened and told her about Filipa’s death and little Diego.
As the afternoon passed, Cristóbal was smitten by her sensuality and understanding. He realized he wanted her even though she had no title or connection that would benefit him. He reflected that securing another favorable marriage undoubtedly would improve his prospects for a voyage. But that didn’t preclude being with, or being seen with, Beatriz. Noblemen of all courts of all nations and peoples had their concubines, including João, Fernando, Cardinal Mendoza, and even St. Augustine.
Beatriz was captivated by Cristóbal’s commanding presence and accomplishments and by their genuine rapport. It was obvious he wanted her. She liked him, and she made that clear.
Before dusk, Cristóbal kissed her hand, and they agreed to meet again. Soon, he came again to the garden and they talked of faith and family and enjoyed each other’s company. He spoke of his life on the Ocean Sea without boasting, allowing that the Lord’s wind and weather ultimately determined the outcome of a voyage, not men. He poured out his bitterness that men of wealth and status disparaged his ideas although they themselves were ignorant. She peered through the rage to discern whether he truly liked her or merely sought her guardian’s wealth or her bed in comfortable accommodations. He sought to embrace and she halted him, disclaiming any interest in a brief encounter for the sport of it, studying whether he was sorrowed or merely unfulfilled. He promised he was sincere. She reflected that perhaps she would make him love her. If she bore his child, perhaps he would stay. Perhaps he would marry her.
One evening, Cristóbal came to the garden, and they talked late into the night. His voyage slipped from his mind, and her fear of the risks of their relationship slipped from hers. He pressed and she invited him in. Quietly, he undressed and made love to her, and they whispered close to dawn, excited to be together beyond facade or pretense, separated only by a paramount relationship to God. When they rose, her servant prepared them lunch and Beatriz said he could stay.
As Beatriz and Cristóbal became a couple, Bartolomeu Dias’s expedition to circumvent Guinea progressed south past Cão’s last stone pillar (Cape Cross, Namibia). The weather became stormy and his two ships—the flagship São Cristóvão and the São Pantaleão— sheltered in a small bay (northwestern South Africa) for five days, whereupon Dias decided to proceed. The ships sailed west from the sight of land to escape unfavorable winds and current and, for thirteen days, drove southwest. The sea and air grew colder and the crew fearful. Eventually, they discovered more variable winds and Dias ordered the ships to tack due east to find the coast.
Cristóvão dispatched a letter to King João offering to return to Portugal if João would reconsider Cristóvão’s plan.
Dias failed to achieve the Guinean coast within a few days. Surprised, exhilarated, and fearful, the crews of the São Cristóvão and São Pantaleão veered the ships north. Eventually, they sighted the coast of Guinea stretching west to east and, on February 3, 1488, they disembarked in a bay where black-skinned inhabitants were herding cattle (Mossel Bay, South Africa). They offered prayers to the Lord and Virgin and gifts to the inhabitants, who refused them. An altercation occurred, and an inhabitant was killed by crossbow.
Beatriz concluded she was pregnant, as they had suspected for some weeks. Cristóbal and Beatriz prayed to the Virgin for her and the baby’s safety.
In mid-February, Bartolomeo Colombo presented the Colombo’s map of the world to King Henry VII in England. Bartolomeo indicated to the king that his brother, Cristoforo, would be present but was discussing the same with King João in Portugal and King Fernando and Queen Isabel in Castile. The brothers would sail for the first sovereign to offer sponsorship. King Henry VII did not pursue the offer.
Dias continued to sail east along the Guinean coast, and it began to turn northeast. In March, he placed a stone pillar dedicated to St. Gregory on a promontory (Cape Padrone, South Africa). Soon, his officers requested that they turn back due to the harsh weather, unknown seas, and hostile inhabitants. Dias’s orders required him to consult the officers as to important decisions, and the ships landed to consider the question. The officers voted to turn back and signed a document attesting their decision. Dias convinced them to sail two or three more days, promising to turn back if they did not change their minds.
On March 20, 1488, King João responded warmly to Cristóvão’
s letter, inviting him to Lisbon and assuring that he would be protected from any actions in Portugal instigated by Cristóvão’s creditors.
On his return voyage, Dias followed the coast of Guinea, which he had not seen, arriving at a tremendous plateau visible from the sea from a great distance (Cape of Good Hope). Dias left his last stone pillar there, dedicated to St. Philip.
Over the summer, Bishop Talavera did not reauthorize a stipend for Cristóbal, perhaps neglectfully. In August, Beatriz bore their son, whom they christened Fernando in honor of the king. Beatriz’s relatives had accepted her relationship with Cristóbal, and the child was welcomed with love regardless of his illegitimacy. After baby Fernando’s birth, Cristóbal secretly shipped to Lisbon to advance new discussions with João.
Bartolomeu Dias sailed into Lisbon in December 1488, having discovered that Guinea could be circumvented. Cristóvão was invited to be present when Dias related his success to King João. Cristóvão gleaned that, instead of proceeding to the Indies, Dias’s crew had refused him. But João beamed triumphantly that his own insight and perseverance had born fruit. Cristóvão perceived the assembled advisers and nobility were mocking him, that João’s warmth to him had dissipated, and that João would never reconsider his plan. Cristóbal stole out of Lisbon to return to Beatriz in Córdoba, his vision and aspirations devastated yet again.
Cristóbal reasoned that João’s success should reinvigorate the Castilian sovereigns’ appetite for his plan—as their only alternative to reach the Indies. But the sovereigns’ interest remained their Holy War. Cristóbal confronted the dreadful truth: he had now spent much of his adult life pursuing an idea he knew was true but which other men denied and which had brought him to poverty. At thirty-seven, he was failing rather than achieving, wandering rather than progressing, descending rather than ascending, and begging rather than commanding. When he returned to Beatriz, she welcomed him with support and love.
ISABEL AND FERNANDO
Rebellion in Gomera, Canary Islands, 1488–1489
In 1488, Isabel and Fernando learned that Hernán Peraza, whom they had pardoned for murder in return for participating in the Canaries’ conquest and marrying the enticing Beatriz de Bobadilla, had been killed in a native rebellion while ruling Gomera. Some said that Hernán had treated the Gomerans cruelly, as or as if slaves. They had resisted his domination, frequently rebelling, and then killed him as he met his Gomeran lover Iballa in a cave. Beatriz and her two children had barricaded themselves from massacre in the small, square tower (Torre del Conde) where they lived at San Sebastián, the island’s tiny eastern harbor, and had been rescued by Pedro de Vera.
Soon thereafter, the sovereigns heard from Lanzerote’s bishop that Pedro and Beatriz had inflicted cruel punishments and enslavements in reprisal for Hernán’s death. Many Gomerans had been executed regardless of participation in the revolt, some after torture. Others had been thrown overboard while being transported between islands or disemboweled or dismembered. Pedro and Beatriz had sold the wives and children of the slaughtered into slavery at Palos and other ports in Andalusia, ignoring the bishop’s warning that enslavement of Christians was unlawful.
Isabel and Fernando ordered an inquiry into the enslavements by their religious advisers, which would continue over three years. Pedro responded that the Gomerans were infidels. Beatriz argued that they were not Christians—they had never been baptized, went naked, and were polygamists. It was determined the bishop was correct, whereupon Fernando ordered the slaves manumitted and their purchasers repaid by Pedro and Beatriz. Pedro was recalled from the islands to serve in the Reconquista and replaced by his key lieutenant, Alonso Fernández de Lugo.
ISABEL AND CRISTÓBAL
Audience, Jaén, 1489
In 1489, as the sovereigns’ army slowly claimed Grenadan territory from al-Zagal, Fray Marchena suggested that Cristóbal approach prominent Andalusian merchants with his plan, rather than waiting on the sovereigns any longer. Cristóbal understood that merchants could not bestow hereditary titles to lands discovered but realized the sovereigns’ reconsideration was too uncertain. The French king Charles VIII had expressed interest in evaluating the plan, but his convincing was no more likely than Fernando and Isabel’s and easier for Bartolomé to pursue. Cristóbal took Marchena’s advice and sought sponsorship first from Enrique Guzmán and, when rejected, from the Duke of Medinaceli, Luis de la Cerda.
The duke had substantial maritime businesses and lived in a castle on the Bay of Cádiz at Puerto de Santa María. He invited Colón to visit and they discussed the voyage from a mercantile perspective.
Puerto de Santa María invigorated Cristóbal. He had starved for ships and the ocean, and ambling about the bustling quays of the small port reminded him of his true vocation, relieved him of the scorn he perceived at court, and turned his nightmare back to a dream. He even met a one-eyed sailor who confirmed that lands could be achieved sailing west from Ireland.
The discussions culminated in the duke’s agreement to sponsor three ships and crews for a year provided the sovereigns’ consented. Cristóbal moved to reside at the castle as a member of the duke’s staff to organize the expedition. After five years of rejection, he was ecstatic with the achievement, vindicated that he had shown his detractors wrong, and humbled that the Lord had recognized his faith. He drew up specifications for the ships and provisions.
Yet, when the duke requested the sovereigns’ consent, they denied it! In May, Isabel summoned Cristóbal to meet her at the episcopal palace in the village of Jaén, where she and much of the court were encamped while Fernando and his armies bore down on al-Zagal’s troops nearby. Cristóbal warily reckoned that the sovereigns had disapproved the duke’s venture in order to sponsor him themselves. There simply could be no other cause for precluding a private venture they could tax and that expanded Castilian influence in competition with João.
Cristóbal rode a mule east from Córdoba into the hill country to Jaén, where a spectacular precipice hovered high above the village, emblazoned with a large cross. He gazed up to it and implored the Lord that his faith was pure and had never wavered and that there was no occasion to test it further. He was eager to bring the faith to the Indies if the Lord so destined. He entered the palace and was ushered into an audience with Queen Isabel, Cardinal Mendoza, and Bishop Talavera.
The queen thanked Cristóbal for making the journey and informed him of her and Fernando’s decision. “Cristóbal, you can’t pursue your voyage with the duke because the king and I are still interested in it. Al-Zagal’s elimination is the Holy War’s final battle and, when we’re victorious, Boabdil will submit the city of Grenada as vassal. Although we’re not ready to commit to it, your plan then will be reconsidered.” Isabel smiled cheerfully. “I understand this may come as a disappointment, but you should be hopeful instead.”
Cristóbal’s body froze, his breath stopped, and his temples pounded as he searched for words, utterly aghast and bewildered. He had anguished five years in the queen’s court to hear this—a voyage denied without a voyage committed! He bit his tongue, smothered his rage, cried to his Lord, and gazed to the floor to collect himself. Heartbeats passed. Slowly, he recognized the queen sought to encourage him as much as she could, and that he had no other ready option.
Cristóbal turned from the floor to the queen and responded in a measured voice. “Your Majesty, my extreme disappointment in the absence of your firm commitment is surpassed by my desire to serve you and the king. I understand the importance of the Holy War and the glory of your victory. I assure you that my enterprise will achieve even greater glory for you and the king. You will bring the faith to the Indies and retake Jerusalem.”
Bishop Talavera peered into Colón’s eyes to discern his sincerity. Cardinal Mendoza studied his composure to comprehend whether he was resourceful or crazed. Accustomed to flattery and pandering, Isabel ignored both and saw an extraordinary resilience and fortitude that touched her deeply.
With h
er business done, she sat on a throne and sought information, with Colón standing before her. “Cristóbal, as I remember you’ve been to Mina.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Do you think Mina is the Ophir where King Solomon obtained his gold?”
“Your Majesty, it’s possible, but I think not. According to the scriptures, Solomon and Hiram’s ships sailed from Eziongeber on the Red Sea. I believe they sailed east toward Cathay to achieve Ophir. I would hope to find Ophir in the Indies sailing west.”
Cristóbal was startled by what came next. It appeared the queen simply wished to talk. At that moment, she indicated Cardinal Mendoza and Bishop Talavera could excuse themselves, and they departed, leaving Cristóbal and Isabel in the company of only guards and attendants.
The queen paused for a moment to reflect, and Cristóbal perceived she became more serious. “Cristóbal, if men could enter it, where is the Earthly Paradise of Adam and Eve to be found?”
“Your Majesty, there’re different theories. Sir John Mandeville believes it lies in the Indies at the earth’s highest point. He says its spring, which waters the Tree of Knowledge, separates and flows underground the length of terra firma to emerge as four great rivers— the Ganges in the Indies, the Tigris and Euphrates near the Orient, and the Nile in Ethiopia and Egypt. Cardinal d’Ailly agrees.”
Isabel smiled. “And you’d hope to find it by sailing west, as well?”
Cristóbal nodded. “You’ve understood my plan well.” He studied the queen, and she appeared amused to hear more. “When Marco Polo returned from Cathay to Venice, he sailed west on the Ocean Sea from Zaiton [Quanzhou] to Ormus [at the Strait of Hormuz]. If you sponsor my voyage, and if I reach Cathay, it’d be possible for me to return that way, too. I wouldn’t do that, because the distance between Cathay and Spain is far shorter. But Mandeville himself discusses circumventing the entire globe.”