When Grijalva cast anchor in the bay of Matanzas his heart beat high with promise. He had returned successful from a brilliant discovery, in which had begun that pronounced mastery of life which is the dream of every chivalrous mind. There had been nothing in the least irrational in his policy, or fickle or factious in his conduct. He had used diligence and discretion, had been true to his companions, and faithful to his king and to his chief. Surely his uncle would praise him, his governor would reward him, and his king would intrust him with new commissions. So he deserved; so he had every reason to expect, and hence it was with pride and pleasure that he once more set foot on Isla Fernandina.
But, unfortunately, this most virtuous cavalier was now destined to reap the too common reward of honest service in the cause of a vicious master. Scarcely had Grijalva landed, when a letter from the governor was placed in his hand, ordering him to repair with his ships at once to Santiago, and at the same time to notify his soldiers that opportunity would be quickly given all who desired to embark in a fresh adventure to New Spain, and that meanwhile they might rest themselves at the governor’s farms in that vicinity. Then, too, he first learned how Velazquez, ever fickle and distrustful as are all timid and unscrupulous men, becoming nervous concerning the fleet, had sent Cristóbal de Olid in a small vessel with seven soldiers to search and report; and that on reaching the coast of Yucatan a storm had obliged the explorer to part with his anchor and return to Cuba.9 Before the return of Olid, Alvarado had arrived with the gold and good tidings from the armada, which gave the governor unbounded joy. Grijalva had yet to learn, however, how Alvarado, not forgetting the censure bestowed on him for disobedience, had not failed to color the conduct of his commander to suit his own ends. Grijalva’s repeated refusals to colonize were paraded as the gross mistakes of a stubborn and spiritless man; the coolness and bravery displayed at Champoton were made to appear as reckless imprudence;