Columbus_ The Four Voyages - Laurence Bergreen [209]
Later, in Seville, Columbus, as persistent as ever, told the king that “he had no desire to go to law or argue his case before judges. He simply wanted His Majesty . . . to give him that which he thought fit.” The Admiral explained that he was “weary to the bone and simply wanted to go off somewhere on his own and rest.” Fruitless meetings exhausted his patience and strength. Growing weaker, Columbus wrote a formal petition, concluding, “I do believe that it is the pain caused by the delay in dealing with my business that is responsible for my being as crippled as I am.”
He filled the idle hours fretting about his lost income from the Indies, explaining that the Indians “were and are the island’s real wealth.” They grew the food, baked the bread, and excavated the gold on which the “Christians” all depended, yet he was disturbed to hear that “six out of every seven Indians has died as a direct result of the inhuman treatment meted out to them: some hacked to pieces with swords, others clubbed to death, and yet others succumbing from abuse, hunger, and the appalling conditions under which they had been forced to exist.” This expression of regret did not lead to a mea culpa, as might be expected. Rather, the dire situation meant that a great deal of income had been lost—Spain’s income, and his.
He offered a similarly shallow excuse for his sending ships filled with slaves back to Spain. It was purely a temporary measure, he now explained. He had intended them to convert to the holy faith, and to learn Spanish customs and skills, and then return to Hispaniola, where they could pass all they had learned to their kin.
The debates and petitions continued without respite. Even Columbus came to realize he had run out of options, out of luck, and out of time. His persistence would get him nowhere. From his sickbed, he wrote to the archbishop of Seville that since the king seemed determined not to honor “the promises he had made along with the Queen (God rest her soul) both by word of mouth and in writing, I feel that it would be like banging my head against a brick wall for a simple countryman like myself to continue the battle.”
The death of Queen Isabella reverberated throughout Spain and its expanding empire, threatening political instability and even civil war. Juana, the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, had married Philip the Fair. Mentally unstable, she became known as “Juana la Loca”—Juana the Mad. Supported by the nobility, her husband, Philip, became king of Castile, replacing his father-in-law. For a time it appeared that Juana was destined to rule, despite her infirmity, with the understanding that Ferdinand would become permanent regent. To make this plan a reality, Ferdinand struck coins with the impression “Ferdinand and Juana, King and Queen of Castile, León, and Aragón,” the control of currency being the fastest route to control of government. At the same time, Philip sought to form an alliance with Juana la Loca to fend off Ferdinand. In the fall of 1505, the failure of the harvest,