Columbus Letter On The First Voyage - Assessment

Assessment

Christopher Columbus' letter is often compared to the letters of other early explorers, notably his contemporary Amerigo Vespucci, whose letters of in 1504-05 enjoyed even greater dissemination and popularity. The tone and focus of Columbus' letter may have something to do with it. Columbus' descriptions of the lands and peoples are not really as a detached observer, filled with sheer curiosity, but rather more as an invested entrepreneur with an eye for economic opportunities. It should be remembered that the Columbus expedition was commercial in purpose. Having failed to find the great markets and cities of China or India, he was returning with empty hulls. So it was unsurprising that in his letter, which has the purpose of reporting the results of his voyage to his investors, Columbus emphasized future economic prospects to make it appear a success.

At every turn, Columbus seems to attempt to portray the islands of the Indies as suitable for future colonization. The notion of colonization for profit was not unfamiliar at the time. The Portuguese had already colonized the Atlantic islands of Madeira and the Azores and erected considerable export industries in timber, sugar and dragon's blood, and the Castilian crown was in the process of completing its conquest of the Canary Islands, drumming up trade in orchil and slaves as they went.

In his letter, Columbus' description of the land focuses on listing exploitable natural resources and what can be built there in the future (mines, towns, farms), rather than launching into descriptive dissertations. There are no extended allusions to an earthly Garden of Eden, marvelous vegetation or colorful songbirds, or the structure of Indian villages, as can be found in Vespucci's letters or in Columbus' own journal. It seems evident Columbus' letter was written for an audience of European officials and merchants, not to delight the imagination of common European readers.

The anthropological notes in Columbus' letter are relatively sparse. He does not really inquire into or describe the local Arawak natives, their lifestyles, society or customs in much detail. Rather, Columbus' letter is primarily focused on the natives' interaction with the Spaniards, underlining their docility and amenability and other points relevant for the prospects of successful future colonization (religion, exchange, notions of property, work capacity). In emphasizing their timidity and lack of weapons, Columbus may have had in mind the long and painful Spanish conquest of the Canary islands, which had been fiercely resisted by the aboriginal Guanches, and perhaps sought to underline that such difficulties would not likely be encountered in the Indies islands. The existence of the Caribs - the prospect of warlike cannibals would surely be discouraging to colonization - is promptly dismissed by Columbus as myth.

The religious angle, the repeated emphasis on the masses of new souls available and inclined for conversion to Catholic Christianity, and even the crusade theory of the Copiador letter, was written more for an ecclesiastical-legal audience rather than investors. The decision on the future of the islands belonged to the pious Queen of Castile and the Pope, the ultimate arbitrator of the legal claims. Here too, Columbus seemed to be aware of history. The discovery of the Canary Islands in the 1340s had launched a wave of slaving expeditions that had shocked the Church and prompted the intervention of the pope, who overrode the claims of the Iberian monarchs and wrote the islands over to a private entrepreneur (Luis de la Cerda) who promised to convert the natives instead. The Portuguese prince Henry the Navigator had deftly connected the concepts of enslavement and religious conversion to secure a papal grant for the exclusive commercial exploitation of Guinea. Whether such a gambit would work in Columbus' case was as yet unclear, but the letter was not leaving things up to chance. The queen had already made some significant promises (Capitulations of Santa Fe), which Columbus reminded her of (in the Copiador letter). Should the monarchs not follow through, his religious arguments might find a sympathetic ear in the Church and perhaps persuade the pope to defend his privileges, and maybe even (although this is a stretch) decide to turn Columbus into a modern De la Cerda or Prince Henry, and enthrone him personally as the "Prince of the Indian Isles".

The practical intentions of the Columbus letter affected its tone and focus, and perhaps limited his audience, especially when compared to the more popular letters of Amerigo Vespucci. Matters of the Asian trade, economic exploitation and legal claims, might be interesting to overseas merchants, royal officials and Church lawyers, but less so to common European readers who were not likely to be involved at that high level. Vespucci's letters, by comparison, spoke to a more common imagination - new worlds, paradises on earth, noble savages, societies without masters and the folly of the ancients, appealed to common curiosity and intrigued the scientific interests of the Renaissance humanists of the day. Vespucci's rawer tales of cannibalism and free sexuality added a touch of titillation to the wonder. Columbus' letter, which passes over these details too quickly, and focuses on promising riches to merchants and converts to the Church, seemed relatively dull and grasping by comparison. The few points of marvel in Columbus' letter - cannibals, men with tails, and the island of the Amazons - are brief and only hearsay, dismissable as usual travel myths, unlikely to draw serious attention or set tongues talking in humanist circles.

Columbus' letter introduced his name to European audiences, but did not quite immortalize it. In years to come, it was Amerigo Vespucci's name that became associated with the new continent. Columbus' reputation and achievement was cemented less by his own pen, and more by that of early Spanish chroniclers, like Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo, Bartolomé de las Casas, Francisco López de Gómara, Antonio Herrera and, of course, his own son, Ferdinand Columbus.