Pinzon); and as for the remainder, he, Santangel, would be responsible
for it. Either he would lend it himself (he belonged to one of the rich
Jewish families that had become Christian) or he would induce King
Ferdinand to allow it to be taken from the Aragon treasury and repaid
later. (Ferdinand, apparently, was not such an unmanageable person,
after all.)

Right here is where the story of Isabella pledging her jewels would come
in if there were sufficient reasons for believing it, but there is
little proof of it; indeed, rather more against it. Not only did
Santangel show the queen how the money could be obtained otherwise, but,
as she had already pledged much of her jewelry in Valencia and Barcelona
in order to aid the Moorish war, her husband's treasurer would surely
have deterred her from parting with more. However, she was now so
enthusiastic over Columbus's affair that she undoubtedly would have made
some such offer had no other means of raising the money been found.

The queen knew that her husband disapproved of the would-be discoverer's
high terms; she knew that all the grandees of the kingdom disapproved;
she knew that the expedition might end in failure and bring down
ridicule on her head; and yet she rose and cried in ringing tones,
"Bring the man back! I will undertake this thing for my own crown of
Castile."

Isabella, we must remember, was queen of Castile and Leon, and Ferdinand
was king of Aragon, each still ruling his own portion, although their
marriage had united these portions into one kingdom. Hence, though
Ferdinand had lost interest in Columbus's affair, Isabella was quite
free to aid him. It was to commemorate her personal venture that later,
after they had allowed Columbus to adopt a coat of arms, some poet wrote