Spain in America E-Book

Edward Bourne

• Herausgeber: Blackmore Dennett
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Spain in America is widely considered a minor classic of history; its main importance is that Bourne was the first North American writer to paint the Spanish colonial regime in tones of praise rather than disparagement for its horrendous cruelties to the native populations of the Americas.  Bourne presents a unique story of the Spanish Empire in the Americas. 

Leseprobe

SPAIN

IN

AMERICA

by Edward Bourne

Published 2019 by Blackmore Dennett

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

PRELIMINARIES OF DISCOVERY (867-1487)

PREPARATIONS OF COLUMBUS (1446-1492)

COLUMBUS’S DISCOVERY AND THE PAPAL DEMARCATION LINE (1492-1494)

COLUMBUS AT THE ZENITH OF HIS FORTUNES (1493-1500)

VOYAGES OF THE CABOTS AND CORTE-REALS (1496-1502)

DEVELOPMENT OF THE COAST-LINE (1499-1506)

AMERIGO VESPUCCI AND THE NAMING OF AMERICA (1499-1507)

THE SEARCH FOR A STRAIT (1508-1514)

MAGELLAN AND THE FIRST VOYAGE AROUND THE WORLD (1519-1522)

EXPLORATION OF THE GULF AND ATLANTIC COASTS (1512-1541)

EXPLORATION OF THE INTERIOR OF NORTH AMERICA (1517-1541)

FRENCH AND SPANIARDS IN FLORIDA (1558-1568)

THE ACHIEVEMENT OF THREE GENERATIONS (1492-1580)

THE BEGINNINGS OF SPANISH COLONIAL POLICY (1493-1518)

SPANISH COLONIAL GOVERNMENT AND ADMINISTRATION (1493-1821)

SPANISH EMIGRATION TO AMERICA (1500-1600)

RACE ELEMENTS AND SOCIAL CONDITIONS IN SPANISH AMERICA (1500-1821)

NEGRO SLAVES (1502-1821)

COLONIAL COMMERCE AND INDUSTRY (1495-1821)

THE TRANSMISSION OF EUROPEAN CULTURE (1493-1821)

PRELIMINARIES OF DISCOVERY (867-1487)

THE historic life of the ancient world was grouped about the Mediterranean Sea, and that body of water invited the early spirit of adventure and exploration. Its broad bosom was the highway of arms and of commerce, and the channel by which the elements of culture were transmitted from one people to another. As the world of ancient civilization expanded, its activities radiated from this centre; and during the Middle Ages the life of Europe and western Asia was still grouped about the Mediterranean. Consequently, of all the changes which mark the transition from ancient and mediæval to modern history, none is so profound as that which has regrouped human life about the Atlantic as a new and grander central sea.

The initial steps in this great change must be indicated briefly before the main story is taken up. Prior to the invention of the mariner’s compass, geographical discovery did not advance beyond the range of land travel and of coasting voyages. The nearest approach to the unlocking of the secrets of the sea of darkness that was made without the guiding needle was accomplished by the fearless sailors of the North, who found Iceland in 867, colonized Greenland in 985, and reached the shores later to be known as America, at a time when western Europe had hardly begun to recover what had been lost by the collapse of the Roman Empire and the decay of ancient knowledge.

Yet the distance was so great, the voyage so precarious, and the returns so slight that these ventures were discontinued; and northern enterprise remained content with the establishment of scattered settlements on the western shores of Greenland, which for three centuries were the remote outposts of Christendom in the west, obscure precursors of the future expansion of Europe and of Christianity.

Of more consequence were the later ventures in the south, which, beginning with the isolated attempt of the Vivaldi brothers, of Genoa, in 1291, to reach India by sailing round Africa, were continued by other stray Italian voyages to the African islands; they culminate in the fifteenth century in the systematic promotion of geographical discovery by the Portuguese Prince Henry the Navigator. His career and its results, the indispensable preparation in Europe for the discovery of the New World, naturally belong to the opening volume of this series. All that can be done here is to emphasize the importance for American history of creating a body of fearless ocean navigators; of breaking down the old imaginary barrier of a flaming zone in the tropics; of setting in train a range of activities which in little more than a century revealed a new world, encompassed the globe, and opened to Europe not only a broad field for its expanding energies, but also a new and more spacious home for its people.

Near the end of Prince Henry’s life the results attained under his leadership were incorporated in a map by the Venetian geographer, Friar Mauro, which records, in the part devoted to Asia, all the additions made to geographical knowledge by Marco Polo, John of Pian de Carpine, William of Rubruk, and other mediæval travellers. In addition, Friar Mauro, by a bold conjecture, relying upon the indications afforded by the voyages down the east and west coasts, depicted South Africa as circumnavigable, and confidently affirmed his belief that one could sail from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean.

After the death of Prince Henry, his nephew, Alfonso V., prosecuted the work of exploration only intermittently, yet with some significant results. His reign is signalized by the first project of exploring the Atlantic to the west. Alfonso V., in January, 1474, granted to Fernam Tellez, who had rendered distinguished services in the African voyages, any islands he might discover in the ocean sea not in the region of Guinea. Not quite two years later this privilege was extended to cover inhabited as well as uninhabited islands, and the Seven Cities are mentioned by name as the object of his explorations. On the map of Graciosus Benincasa, 1482, the island of Antilia, with the names of the Seven Cities inscribed, is placed about as far west of the Madeiras as they are distant from Spain. Of the results of Tellez’s efforts nothing is known. The positive achievement of Alfonso’s reign was the actual crossing of the equator, demonstrating that the torrid zone was not uninhabitable or uninhabited.

Alfonso’s successor, John II., took up with energy the work of Prince Henry. During his brief reign of fourteen years ( 1481-1495) the western coast of Africa was explored, until in 1487 Bartholomew Diaz rounded the Cape of Storms, renamed by the king Good Hope. Owing in part to ill health, King John made no further effort in that direction. To the possibilities in the west he had not been indifferent, although he rejected the proposals of Columbus, for in 1486 he granted to Ferdinand Dulmo, a captain of the island of Terceira, in the Azores, any island or islands or main - land that he might discover in the Atlantic. Dulmo sailed in 1487, equipped for a voyage of six months, but he lighted neither upon the fabled Seven Cities nor the hidden islands of the west. This good - fortune was not to crown a century of exploration by the hardy seamen of the western kingdom of the peninsula, but was to be won by a countryman of Doria and the Vivaldi brothers, whose first venture had anticipated Prince Henry by more than a century.

PREPARATIONS OF COLUMBUS (1446-1492)

OF the youth of the discoverer of America little is known. Although a voluminous writer of letters, in which he reviews his struggles, in none of those which are extant did he ever mention the date of his birth; nor are there the materials for an authentic story of his early days in the papers which his son Ferdinand and his friend Las Casas utilized for their accounts of his life prior to his arrival in Spain. The self-made men of to-day often fondly dwell upon their humble origin, but Columbus in after-life drew a veil over the lowly circumstances of his birth; adopted the form Colon2 for his name, thereby making more plausible his claim of relationship with the French admirals Coulon and of descent from a Roman general Colon (Cilon according to the best texts of Tacitus); and transformed the simple weavers from whom he sprang into wealthy merchants and importers who subsequently suffered reverses.

It is, however, the generally accepted view of modern scholars, based upon a careful collation of the notarial documents of Genoa relating to his family and to their business transactions, that he was born in Genoa about the year 1446, although as late a date as 1451 is supported by the fact that in 1470 his signature was appended to a legal document with the formal statement that he was upwards of nineteen years of age.

His father, Domenico Colombo, was a woollen- weaver, and as late as 1472 Columbus signed a document in Genoa giving as his occupation “lanerius de Janua,” wool-worker of Genoa. His earliest apprenticeship to the sea may have begun somewhat earlier, yet this signature precludes a long- previous seafaring life and militates as well against the earlier dates conjectured for his birth. A story told of his studies at the University of Pavia cannot be authenticated, and is rejected by most modern scholars; yet in some way the wool-worker of Genoa in a few years mastered not only the whole art of navigation, but learned Latin and read voluminously in the geographical literature accessible in that language.

Among the authors that he studiously examined and commented upon were the General History and Geography of Æneas Sylvius, later Pope Pius II.; the Image of the World, an encyclopædic compilation by Pierre d’Ailly written early in the fifteenth century; and, most important of all, a Latin copy of the travels of Marco Polo. His comments upon these works are written in a Latin somewhat careless of grammatical rules. In these marginal notes are revealed a curiosity about the Orient and a critical disposition to rectify the geographical tradition by the light of his own experience and knowledge.

For example, when Æneas Sylvius records that the frigid and torrid zones are uninhabitable, Columbus notes that the contrary is proved in the south by the Portuguese, and in the north by the English and the North Germans who sail those regions. Again, when D’Ailly pronounces the torrid zone uninhabitable on account of the excessive heat, Columbus notes in the margin, “It is not uninhabitable, because the Portuguese sail through it; in fact, it is teeming with people, and near the equator is his Serene Highness the King of Portugal’s castle of Mine, which we have seen.” Of all the statements in Pierre d’Ailly none impressed Columbus more profoundly than the quotation from Aristotle that “between the end of Spain and the beginning of India the sea was small and navigable in a few days.” Again, the assertion of the apocryphal book of Esdras that the earth is six parts land and that only the seventh part is water, seemed so striking that Columbus notes the opinion of Ambrose and Augustine that Esdras was a prophet.

In the case of no navigator of that age or earlier is there such impressive evidence of protracted study of all available sources of information in regard to any specific problem of geographical exploration. In addition to this investigation of literary sources, Columbus carefully noted all the indications which he observed or which were brought to his attention, pointing to the existence of islands to the west of the Azores, Canaries, and other groups already known. Reported voyages of exploration were also carefully recorded. This preparatory work was done while he was living in Portugal, whither he had gone early in his experience as a sailor. There he married Felipa Moniz, a connection of Bartholomew Perestrello, one of Prince Henry’s navigators. During a part of his residence in Portugal he lived for a time in the island of Porto Santo; and at other times he sailed on the Portuguese ships to Guinea and to the north, certainly as far as the British Isles.

In such an environment a mind so boldly imaginative, at once so practical and so visionary, could not fail to be incited to independent activity in this stirring field of ever widening knowledge. It is quite impossible, however, to fix with certainty the date when, reaching beyond projects of western exploration, his mind grasped the great design of going to the East Indies by sailing west. According to the substantially identical narratives of Las Casas and of Ferdinand Columbus, the suggestion of this idea was derived from the letters of the Florentine physician and astronomer, Paolo del Pozzo Toscanelli, which they reproduce and of which they were the sole sources until 1871, when Harrisse identified the Latin original of the first Toscanelli letter.

From the first of these documents, written in June, 1474, we learn that Toscanelli’s friend, Fernam Martins, living in Lisbon and interested in the Portuguese efforts to reach the Indies by way of Africa, had brought before King Alfonso the opinion he had heard Toscanelli express that it would be a much shorter way to the Indies to sail due west. The king then desired to hear from Toscanelli the reasons for such a view. The astronomer’s reply contained in the first letter could have afforded little assurance to Alfonso, for there is no reasoned argument in it, but merely a series of assertions unsupported by evidence, followed by an alluring description of the wealth of the Orient derived from Marco Polo. The text was accompanied by a chart divided into equal spaces which depicted the Atlantic as bounded on the west by the coast of Asia. This map is no longer extant, and almost all reproductions of it are merely reproductions of the Atlantic Ocean side of Behaim’s globe, 1492, reduced to what is supposed to be the projection devised by Toscanelli.

This letter, it is supposed, was brought to the notice of Columbus some years later and suggested to him the realization of the project. He then wrote to Toscanelli of his desire to go to the land of spices, and received in reply a copy of the letter to Martins and a chart similar to the one sent with the first letter. Somewhat later Toscanelli wrote again to Columbus in reply to his letters, but without conveying any further information as to how to make the voyage.

In recent years the authenticity of this correspondence has been challenged, and the effort has been made to prove that the letters are a subsequent forgery designed to give to Columbus’s voyage the character of a reasoned scientific experiment and the dignity of the patronage of a renowned scholar. As yet the critical attack on these documents has ‘won little assent among scholars. This, however, at least may be said with confidence, that, admitting the genuineness of Toscanelli’s letter to Martins, it gave Columbus no information about the Orient or the distance across the Atlantic that is not more fully given in the passages in Pierre d’Ailly and Marco Polo that he annotated in the margin or copied. So far as making out a plausible case for seeking the east by the west is concerned, Columbus accumulated in the marked passages of his own books a far more convincing body of facts than anything in Toscanelli’s letters. The most, then, that in any case can be attributed to Toscanelli is the direction of his mind to the problem, and not the furnishing of evidence or facts otherwise inaccessible. So far as can be determined by internal evidence, the date of the correspondence is to be placed between 1479 and 1482.

The extant archives of Portugal are equally destitute of references to Toscanelli and to Columbus, and for our knowledge of Columbus’s attempt to secure the support of King John of Portugal in making his great experiment we are dependent upon the narrative of the Portuguese historian, Barros, whose work, though written two generations later, was in general based upon contemporary material. According to Barros, Christovão Colom, a Genoese by birth, an experienced and eloquent man, a good Latin scholar, but very boastful, had convinced himself by his studies and by his reading of Marco Polo that it would be practicable to reach the island of Cipango and other unknown lands by sailing west. He therefore appealed to King John for some ships that he might seek for Cipango in the western ocean. The king saw, however, that Colom was a great talker and boastful of his abilities and very visionary with his island of Cipango, and he placed little confidence in him. Yet, on account of his urgency, he referred him to the bishop of Ceuta and two physicians, expert cosmographers, who regarded his words as empty talk because it all rested on fancy and description of Marco Polo’s Cipango.

Columbus left Portugal for Spain in 1484 in secrecy and haste and there persistently advocated his project for seven years. During this period of futile effort, fearing for the outcome, he sent his brother Bartholomew to England to enlist the interest and assistance of King Henry VII. Of Bartholomew’s activities there no local record remains; but according to the assertion of Las Casas and Ferdinand he succeeded in securing promises from Henry, and was returning to Spain to inform Christopher, when he was told in Paris that his brother had discovered some great lands which were called the Indies.

Of Columbus’s occupations during these weary years we know little, but it is probable that in them he did much of the careful reading of which the marginal notes in his books bear testimony; for in his letter to the king and queen recounting his third voyage he says: “I gave to the subject six or seven years of great anxiety. At the same time I thought it desirable to bring to bear upon the subject the sayings and opinions of those who have written upon the geography of the world.”

Finally, through the powerful assistance of a former confessor of the queen, Father Juan Perez, and of Luis de Santangel, the treasurer of Aragon, Isabella decided to make the venture, and Columbus was hastily recalled just as he was leaving Spain for France.

It is so frequently asserted that Columbus’s exclusive purpose was to reach the East Indies by sailing west that it will not be out of place to indicate that he counted upon discovering islands and possibly main-land, which, though perhaps connected with the Asiatic continent, were not the wealthy and civilized countries of Cipango and of the Great Khan. In the contract drawn up April 17, 1492, Columbus demanded that in return for what he should discover in the Ocean Sea he should be made admiral of all those islands and main-lands which should be discovered or acquired through his agency, with all the prerogatives belonging to the dignity of admiral of Castile; that he should be made viceroy and governor - general of all the said islands and main-lands; and that from all the trade within the limits of the said admiralship he should receive a royalty of ten per cent. of all the net proceeds.

It is not proposed here that Columbus should be invested with the kingdom of the Great Khan or Cipango, which were known and which were his proposed destination; but rather with such unknown regions as he should discover in the ocean in the course of his voyage. Similarly, Columbus in the opening pages of his journal describes his enterprise as an embassy to see the countries of India, “to see the said princes, and the cities and lands, and their disposition, with a view that they might be converted to our holy faith. . . . For this they [the Catholic sovereigns] . . . ennobled me, so that henceforth I should be called Don, and should be chief admiral of the Ocean Sea, perpetual viceroy, and governor of all the islands and continents that I should discover and gain in the Ocean Sea.”

The son of the humble woollen-weaver of Genoa has gone far in twenty years. He is now a noble and a high official in an ancient monarchy, and intrusted with a unique mission. Yet all depends upon the chances of the voyage whether these honors shall fade away in the mists of the Sea of Darkness, leaving the mere shadow of a name, like Ugolino de Vivaldi, in some such record as this: “Christopher Colonus, a Ligurian, proposed to pass over to the Indies by way of the west. After he left the Canary Islands no news was heard of him;” or whether his name shall have eternal celebrity as the discoverer of the New World. No man ever faced chances of fortune so extreme. On the other hand, no sovereign ever secured imperial dominion at so slight a sacrifice as Isabella of Castile. Her venture was small -- a few thousand dollars and presumably empty honors to an importunate visionary whose utterances seemed mere “fables.”

COLUMBUS’S DISCOVERY AND THE PAPAL DEMARCATION LINE (1492-1494)

IN the early dawn of August, 1492, the people of the little town of Palos, in western Andalusia, must have watched with strange feelings the departure of three small ships for unknown waters. Less than three months had elapsed since the royal order came to provide two vessels for twelve months, and wages for the crews for four months, as a penalty for some offence against the crown. At first the hardy sailors of Palos shrank from the mysterious, voyage, and only the criminals in the jail were ready for the venture, relying on the promise that all who volunteered were to be exempt from any criminal prosecution until two months after their return. But, thanks to the powerful influence of the Pinzon family, there was no need to depend upon the jail-birds, and capable crews were secured from Palos and the surrounding towns.

The full list of sailors and landsmen was ninety, according to Las Casas, and one hundred and twenty, according to Oviedo. Among them were the three Pinzon brothers, Juan de la Cosa, the maker of the famous map of 1500, and Luis de Torres, a converted Jew, who was taken as an interpreter by reason of his knowledge of Arabic. Besides the Spaniards there were two representatives of that race which was later in no small measure to enter into the inheritance of Spain in the New World. William Ires [ Harris?] of Galway, Ireland, and Tallarte de Lajes [ Allard?]. Neither returned from the voyage. It is not a little strange, in view of the religious spirit of the age and of the enterprise, that no priest joined the company.

Of the three vessels only the Santa Maria was fully decked and large enough to be styled a ship (nao). Her tonnage has been variously estimated at one hundred tons, and at two hundred and eighty tons. The other two, the Pinta and the Niña, of the low-built, swifter type called caravels, are supposed to have measured fifty and forty; or one hundred and forty and one hundred tons.

The admiral directed his course towards the Canaries, Spain’s only pre-Columbian colonial dependency, and to-day almost the only remnant of her oceanic empire. There he tarried for about a month refitting the Pinta. The final start was made on Thursday, September 6.

It is the singular good-fortune of posterity to possess a detailed account of this momentous voyage from the hand of the protagonist in the drama. No other in the history of the world was more important, and of no voyage earlier than or during the age of discoveries have we so full and so trustworthy a narrative. In the form in which it has come down to us it is an abridgment by Las Casas, closely following the text of the original daily record prepared for the king and queen, and frequently preserving long passages in the exact words of the author. In its pages we are admitted into the very presence of the admiral to share his thoughts and impressions as the strange panorama of his experiences unfolded before him.

The voyage was not imperilled by storms, yet as the waves rolled by day after day, as the little vessels followed the setting sun, the strain proved too great for the common minds of the crew. First there was secret grumbling, then plotting to put the admiral out of the way or to throw him overboard. At last, on the tenth day of October, they could stand it no longer; but the admiral soothed them and reminded them of the advantages which would come from success; “and he added that it was useless to complain, as he had come to go to the Indies and he would keep on till he found them with the aid of our Lord.”

Fortunately, the strain was soon relaxed. The next evening a flickering light was observed, and on Friday they found themselves near a small coral island in the Bahamas, called by the natives Guanahani, which Columbus renamed San Salvador (Holy Saviour), and which is probably Watling Island. That he had reached the Indies, Columbus had no doubt, and in his first mention of the natives he calls them “Indians,” thus attaching the name forever to the aborigines of the New World.

When on October 21 he heard of Cuba for the first time, he believed it to be Cipango, and planned to go on “to the main-land and to the city of Guisay, and to give the letters of your highness to the Gran Can.” This belief soon became a fixed idea, immovable in face of the most telling evidence. The very qualities that had insured Columbus’s success contributed to his failure to realize just what he had achieved. Gazing at the naked Indians paddling their canoes, he could write, “It is certain that this is the main-land, and that I am in front of Zayto and Guinsay, a hundred leagues--a little more or less--distant the one from the other”--Guinsay with its Oriental splendor and twelve thousand stone bridges, and Zaitun with its hundred pepper ships a year!2

Not less ready was he to read into the vague gestures and signs of the natives more grotesque recollections of his reading of Marco Polo. As the Venetian traveller reported that the island of Lambri was inhabited by men with tails, so Columbus understands the Indians to tell him of the province of Avan, in Cuba, whose “inhabitants are born with tails.” Again he understands that the island of Matinino is “entirely peopled by women, without men,” for had he not read in Marco Polo of the two islands of Masculia and Femenina?5 Why, too, does he report that he found no people of “monstrous appearance,” but for the reason that he had read in Pierre d’Ailly that in the ends of the earth were “monsters of such a horrid aspect that it were hard to say whether they were men or beasts?”

From the smaller Bahamas his course was directed to Cuba, the eastern third of whose northern shore he explored. Believing that he was upon main-land not far from the realm of the Great Khan, on November 2 he despatched his Jewish interpreter, Luis de Torres, to that monarch. Instead of the Oriental prince they found a village of naked Indians. It was on this journey, however, that Europeans first saw men drawing the smoke from the leaves of a plant which were rolled in the form of a tube and lighted at one end. These tubes they learned were called tobaccos.

From Cuba, Columbus went to Hayti, which from the similarity of its first appearance to that of Spain he named La Isla Española, “the Spanish Island,” whence comes the English Hispaniola. There, on Christmas Day, the Santa Maria ran aground and became a total wreck. All the cargo and provisions were saved through the ready help and kindly honesty of the Indians. In consequence of this disaster, and to prepare a way for Spanish colonization by learning the native language and by acquiring a more complete knowledge of the resources of the island, Columbus decided to leave such as were willing to stay till his return.

Every provision was made for a safe sojourn and the successful establishment of the first white settlement in the New World. He left bread and wine for a year, seed for sowing, tools, and arms. Among the forty-four who remained were skilled artisans, a good gunner, a physician, and a tailor. Las Casas reports for us, presumably from the unabridged journal, the solemn injunctions which Columbus bestowed upon them before he left: that they should obey their captain implicitly, cultivate friendly relations with the natives, and scrupulously avoid injuring man or woman, and that they should keep together.

The return was far from the peaceful progress of the outward voyage, for two violent storms were encountered, one on February 14, just before reaching the Azores, and the other the night of March 3 as they approached the coast of Portugal. They were both safely weathered, however, and on March 4, 1493, Columbus dropped anchor within the mouth of the river Tagus.

For half a century from time to time little fleets had started southward in the hope of eventually reaching the Indies. Four years before Columbus’s voyage Africa had been rounded, and the fruition of so many efforts seemed within reach. Now the news spread that the stranger in the caravel had returned from “the Indies,” and soon the “crowd that swarmed to see the Indians and to hear the story of the voyage overran the little vessel; nor could the surrounding water be seen, so full was it of the boats and skiffs of the Portuguese.”

Four days later, on March 8, the admiral received a letter from the king of Portugal, inviting him to visit him at Valparaiso, some thirty miles from Lisbon. About nine years earlier the two had met, when the petition of the visionary sailor was rejected as mere prattle of the island of Cipango, an echo of Marco Polo. Now the admiral of the Ocean Sea proudly announces that he has returned from the discovery of the islands of Cipango and of Antilia, and shows his Indians, gold, and other trophies, and reminds King John of his failure to accept the opportunity offered to him. In the king’s opinion, however, the discoveries were embraced in his dominion of Guinea. The contemporary chronicler, Ruy de Pina, who describes the interview, says that the said admiral went beyond the bounds of truth, and made out the affair as regards gold and silver and riches much greater than it was. By-standing courtiers suggested that the intruder could be provoked into a quarrel and then killed without any suspicion of connivance on the part of the king. But the king, a God-fearing prince, forbade it, and showed honor to the admiral.

On Friday, in the early afternoon of March 15, 1493, Columbus cast anchor in the harbor of Palos. The joy and pride of the villagers may be imagined. The whole population turned out to receive Columbus with a procession and to give “thanks to our Lord for so great favor and victory.”