November 1501
Don Juan Sanchez de La Casa paused in his writing to collect his thoughts. How was it possible that Christobal Colon’s third voyage to the New World could end in such misfortune? The admiral sent home shackled, and in shame.
Unable to quell a revolt of the colonists in the new city o f Santa Domingo, Colon was relieved of command by Ferdinand and Isabel. They then appointed Francisco de Bobadilla as royal commissioner. Upon his arrival in Santa Domingo, Bobadilla had Colon arrested and sent back to Spain.
Now Juan was writing a letter to their Majesties in Colon’s defense, asking that he be released and returned to his former status.
As he continued to write, he considered himself very lucky.
He had refused Colon’s offer to accompany him on this third voyage. A voyage that ended in complete disaster.
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His marriage to Francisca, on the other hand, was wonderful.
She was a remarkable woman. His only regret, they had been unable to have any children. But that emptiness was softened by their relationship with Diego Jesus de Cortes. They both loved the boy very much, went to Medellin as often as they could. Diego in return adored them.
Completing the letter, he rose to stoke the fire, and add another log. The winter chill was causing pain in all of his joints.
As he was adjusting the fire, his wife Francisca entered the study, quietly asking, “Juan, have you finished your work?” as she gently kissed his forehead. “When do you think we will be leaving for Medellin?”
“Not for a few days, possibly a week, I still must complete my report for the medical guild.”
Heating the wax seal which was embossed with his personal coat of arms, he sealed the letter to the King and Queen.
“There. I hope it does some good for Colon, he deserves better.”
“Well I always thought he was strange. Voicing those peculiar remarks of his at the most inopportune times.”
Laughing, Juan replied, “Yes that was one of his eccentricities. However, bear in mind, his discovery has made Spain a richer, greater nation.”
Juan did not reveal his belief that the utterances were really part of Colon’s secret Jewish past. Intensely hoping, if they were, as he believed, they would never be disclosed!
Francisca, silent for a long minute, suddenly said, “I miss Diego very much. I wish he would come and live with us for a while.”
“Francisca, we have spoken of this many times,” Juan softly said. “Diego is part of the Cortes family. Eva and Martine love him. He is happy there, and he adores Hernan.”
“And exactly my reason for wanting him here. With Hernan studying at the university, Diego must be lonely. Surely a change of scenery would be good for him.”
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Agreeing she had a point, Juan added, “But you must agree to limit his stay with us. We will talk more on the way to Medellin.
Now you must begin your packing if we are to leave next week.”
Accepting the compromise offered by her husband, Donna Francisca kissed him on the cheek, and whispered, “Gracias, mi amour— thank you, my love,” as she left him to begin her packing.
* * *
Diego Jesus de Cortes sat at the window dejectedly looking at the rain. Disappointed because the rain prevented his recently acquired morning activity—riding his favorite horse El Diablo.Diego, at nine years old, was big for his age. Dark haired with the blue eyes of his mother, and the quick intelligence of his father, he possessed a keen mind, and a healthy inquisitiveness.
He relied on his brother, Hernan, to answer all of the questions his natural curiosity evoked. Hernan always treated him as an equal.
Taking him into his confidence, Hernan explained, to the best of his ability, Diego’s never-ending queries. Aware of Diego’s origins, Hernan never alluded to them. He always treated Diego as a part of the family. Diego, in return, adored his brother. And no matter how much Hernan teased or jokingly ridiculed him, he never stopped loving, or respecting his brother.
Recalling how Hernan had tricked him into taking his first ride on a horse, Diego laughed out loud.
One sunny day just three months ago, while both were grooming the horses, Hernan told him to, “just sit on El Diablo,”
so that he and the horse could become acquainted. Then with Diego unaware, Hernan smacked the horse’s backside. The horse reared, racing through the stable, and Diego was off on the ride of his life.
Holding on with all of his strength, and screaming at the top of his lungs, Diego terrified, flew through the stable area, and on 201
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towards a stand of olive trees. Hernan, laughing, suddenly realized that he had made a terrible mistake. Mounting his horse, he spurred it on in the direction that Diego was heading.
Yelling at the top of his lungs for him to hang on, riding as hard as he could, Hernan felt he would not be able to reach Diego in time.
Then miraculously, without really knowing how he did it, Diego managed to gain control of the horse, and slow it down just before reaching the grove of olive trees.
Galloping up, Hernan grabbed the reins of Diego’s horse, and brought it to a stop.
“Ay de mi,” Diego yelled, as he leaped off the horse and fell to his knees.
Hernan silently gave thanks that the boy had not been seriously hurt. He dismounted, and put his arms around Diego’s shoulders.
“Cabeza de burro—donkey head. Why did you do that?” Diego shouted. Relieved, Hernan began laughing so hard, that tears came to his eyes. Seeing his brother’s reaction, Diego began laughing as well.
“Now that you are a horseman, let’s continue our ride,”
Hernan said, slapping his brother on the back.
Diego, with a large measure of trepidation, climbed back on the horse, and laughingly yelled to Hernan, “And you keep your hands off my horse’s ass!”
From that day on, Diego constantly rode El Diablo along with his brother and father.
Now Hernan was off to university to study law, and Diego was bored. He missed Hernan. His father busy with the management of the hacienda, was not able to spend enough time with him.
Deciding he was getting hungry, Diego made his way to the kitchen to see if the afternoon meal was ready. He ran into his mother, Eva, who informed him of the meal status.
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“Ah, bueno, there you are, Diego. It is time to eat, and I have some good news for you.”
“What, Mama, is Hernan coming home?”
“No, no, hijo, it is not Hernan. But Tia Francisca and Tio Juan.
They are on their way to visit for a while, that should make you happy.”
Disappointed and elated at the same time Diego shouted,
“When, Mama, when?”
* * *
The de la Casas arriving in late afternoon, at the Cortes estate, after a week’s coach journey, dusty and tired, were warmly greeted by a very happy Cortes family. Diego, showering them with questions, had to be admonished to allow them to get some rest. There would be time enough tomorrow for all of his questions.Francisca, very happy at seeing Diego, hugged him to her and whispered, “A la mañana, hijo, tomorrow we will visit, and talk.”
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