Note Back to Main Text — Chapter VI · THE FINDING OF STRANGE COASTS.

The master of the ship, shocked at the sight of fetters upon such a man as the Admiral, would have taken them off, but Return to Spain. Columbus would not let it be done. No, indeed! they should never come off except by order of the sovereigns, and then he would keep them for the rest of his life, to show how his labours had been rewarded.[602] The event—which always justifies true manliness—proved the sagacity of this proud demeanour. Fonseca was baulked of his gratification. The clumsy Bobadilla had overdone the business. The sight of the Admiral's stately and venerable figure in chains, as he passed through the streets of Cadiz, on a December day of that year 1500, awakened a popular outburst of sympathy for him and indignation at his persecutors. While on the ship he had written or dictated a beautiful and touching letter[603] to a lady of whom the queen was fond, the former nurse of the Infante, whose untimely death, three years since, his mother was still mourning. This letter reached the court at Granada, and was read to the queen before she had heard of Bobadilla's performances from any other quarter. A courier was sent in all haste to Cadiz, with orders that the brothers should at once be released, and with a letter to the Admiral, inviting him to court and enclosing an order for money to cover his expenses. Release of Columbus. The scene in the Alhambra, when Columbus arrived, is one of the most touching in history. Isabella received him with tears in her eyes, and then this much-enduring old man, whose proud and masterful spirit had so long been proof against all wrongs and insults, broke down. He threw himself at the feet of the sovereigns in an agony of tears and sobs.[604]