otherwise contested for the favor of the naked Indian girls who daily brought food and lingered to watch the young gods at play.
If Columbus did entrust them with the cache of gold, he would undoubtedly have called the boys to his cabin and instructed them to deliver it to Chief Huero, his Indian ally and the island’s most powerful cacique, who had outfitted Méndez on his successful crossing to Hispaniola and remained loyal after a prophetic night when Columbus’s God “ate the moon.” Columbus had noted in Zacuto’s almanac that a full eclipse was due in the early evening of February 29, 1504. The natives, turned off by the rapacious ways of the mutineers, no longer saw their visitors as gods, and, having their fill of Spanish trinkets, had begun withholding food supplies from the Spaniards, who, Fernando wrote, “consumed more in one day than [the Indians] ate in 20.” 21
Columbus saw the celestial event as an opportunity to rectify this “by taking their moon away.” On the day of the eclipse, he summoned the chiefs for “a feast and a palaver,” and told them: “Attend tonight the rising of the moon: She will rise inflamed with wrath, signifying the punishment God will visit upon you.” When the eclipse began shortly after sunset, Columbus retreated to his cabin. “The Indians grew so frightened,” wrote Fernando, “that with great howling and lamentation they came running in all directions to the ships, laden with provisions, and praying for the Admiral to intercede with his God that He might not vent His wrath upon them.” When the moon was in full shadow, Columbus emerged. He had pleaded with his God, he told them, who agreed to forgive them as long as the Indians kept the Christians supplied. As proof, “they would soon see the moon’s anger and inflammation pass away…From that time forward,” wrote Fernando, “the Indians were diligent in providing us with all we needed and were loud in the praise of the Christian God.”
The eclipse vindicated Huero, who afterward presented Columbus with a tribute of small disks of gold from his previously undisclosed mine. Considering Columbus’s desperate straits, it is thought he called on Huero to safeguard his gold. If so, he would have had his young allies transport it under the cover of darkness.
Although there is no hard evidence for this account of Columbus’s alleged gold mine, it is supported by later developments, including the return to Jamaica of the converso youths after their rescue. Having left the land of the Inquisition, they chose to remain in Hispaniola when the rescue ships landed in Santo Domingo, rather than accompany Columbus and the crew back to Spain.
In November 1504, Columbus had been back only three weeks when his patroness Isabella died. The following May, the king offered him a rich estate and pension if he would relinquish his rights of discovery. Ferdinand regretted allowing Isabella to persuade him to empower Columbus with all sorts of rights and privileges, but although Columbus was in declining health, he was not about to surrender his hard-won titles. A little more than a year later, he made out his will, and died the next day (May 20, 1506) with his loyal mate Diego Méndez and son Fernando by his side.
Three years afterward, Columbus’s eldest son, Diego, having inherited his titles, arrived in Hispaniola to replace Ovando as governor. Accompanying him were his younger brother Fernando and his uncle Bartholomew. This was their first trip back to the Indies since their rescue. A contemporary painting shows them seated around a conference table in the governor’s mansion.
One issue they hoped to resolve was dealt with right away when Diego recruited “Portugals from Hispaniola” 22 to reconnoiter Jamaica in advance of settling the island. Since Diego’s uncle and brother left for Spain right after the “Portugals” returned, it is apparent they had come for the left-behind gold of Columbus. Nothing more