Columbus now laid his great project before the King of Portugal, but without success.  Greatly disappointed, he sailed to Spain, hoping to receive the patronage of Ferdinand and Isabella.  It was many months before he could even obtain a hearing; his means were exhausted, and he had to contend against ridicule and scorn, but the royal audience was at length obtained.  Ferdinand assembled learned astronomers and cosmographers to hold a conference with Columbus.  They assailed him with citations from the Bible.  One objection advanced was, that should a ship ever succeed in reaching India, she could never come back, for the rotundity of the globe would present a mountain, up which it would be impossible to sail.  Finally, after five years, the junta condemned the scheme as vain and impossible.

Columbus was on the point of leaving Spain, when the real grandeur of the subject broke at last on Isabella’s mind, and she resolved to undertake the enterprise.  Articles of agreement were drawn up and signed by Ferdinand and Isabella.  Columbus and his heirs were to have the office of High Admiral in all the seas, lands, and continents he might discover, and he was to be viceroy over the said lands and continents.  He was to have one-tenth of all profits, and contribute an eighth of the expense of expeditions.  Columbus proposed that the profits from his discoveries should be consecrated to a crusade.

The First Voyage

(August, 1492—­March, 1493)

Columbus set out joyfully for Palos, where the expedition was to be fitted out.  He had spent eighteen years in hopeless solicitation, amidst poverty, neglect, and ridicule.  When the nature of the expedition was heard, the boldest seamen shrank from such a chimerical cruise, but at last every difficulty was vanquished, and the vessels were ready for sea.  Two of them were light, half-decked caravels; the Santa Maria, on which Columbus hoisted his flag, was completely decked.  The whole number of persons was one hundred and twenty.

Columbus set sail on August 3, 1492, steering for the Canary Islands.  From there they were wafted gently over a tranquil sea by the trade wind, and for many days did not change a sail.  The poor mariners gradually became uneasy at the length of the voyage.  The sight of small birds, too feeble to fly far, cheered their hearts for a time, but again their impatience rose to absolute mutiny.  Then new hopes diverted them.  There was an appearance of land, and the ships altered their course and stood all night to the south-west, but the morning light put an end to their hopes; the fancied land proved to be an evening cloud.

Again the seamen broke forth into loud clamours, and insisted on abandoning the voyage.  Fortunately, the following day a branch with berries on it floated by; they picked up also a small board and a carved staff, and all murmuring was now at an end.  Not an eye was closed that night.  Columbus took his station on the top of the cabin.  Suddenly, about ten o’clock, he beheld a light.  At two in the morning the land was clearly seen, and they took in sail, waiting for the dawn.  The great mystery of the ocean was revealed.