Christopher Columbus, Don Bartholomew, was obliged, in the interest of his nephews, to quit the sick-bed of the patient, to go in his name to compliment the new sovereigns.
The conjugal contestations that frequently arose between the young sovereigns, the misunderstanding that was said to separate the Catholic King from his son-in-law, the dissensions in the palace, the parties that were formed there, the disquietude about the future which these conflicts had prepared, — preoccupying all minds, — caused the fate of Columbus to be lost sight of. Moreover, it was a long time known that the Admiral of the Ocean had fallen under the displeasure of the King, and had therefore retired from the Court. Isolation had surrounded him before his last hour, and his death remained unnoticed. The man who had bestowed on Spain one-half of this globe obtained neither honors, nor a funeral oration, nor a monument, nor an epitaph!
Such was the indifference of the public in regard to Columbus, that a Lombardian literary character, Peter Martyr d'Anghierra, — who had formerly boasted of his familiarity with the great man, and who had removed to Spain, hoping, as he said, his name would be transmitted to posterity if he should write the first events of the Discovery, — did not deign to mention that death. And even the Chronicle of Valladolid, which from the year 1333 had minutely registered every event of local interest, — the building of churches, of schools, births and marriages of note, fires, criminal executions, installations of bishops, nominations of aldermen, — did not think that this death merited being registered in its annals. It was because that already, as regarded Columbus, the silence of forgetfulness preceded that of the tomb. Nobody was interested about his death. His glorious but unheeded remains were piously deposited by his only friends, the Franciscans, in their convent at Valladolid.
Nevertheless, at the end of seven years, Ferdinand having altered his mind, and wishing to leave to history an example
