The Very Magnificent Lord Don Cristobal Colon, High Admiral of the Ocean Sea, Viceroy and Governor of the Islands and Tierra Firma.

COLUMBUS

THE SEA OF DARKNESS

Before America was ever heard of, over four hundred years ago, a boy lived in Genoa the Proud City.

He was just one of hundreds of boys in that beautiful Italian town, whose palaces, marble villas, and churches climbed her picturesque hillsides. The boy’s name was Christopher Columbus.

Whenever he could leave his father’s workshop, where he was learning to comb wool, for his father was a weaver, how eagerly the boy must have run down to the wharfs and sat there watching the ships come and go.

They came from all those parts of the world which people knew about then, from Iceland and England, from European and Asiatic ports, and from North Africa. Caravels, galleys, and galleons, and sailing craft of all kinds, came laden with the wealth that made Genoa one of the richest cities of her time.

The sailors, who lounged on the wharfs, spun wonderful yarns. They told how beyond the Pillars of Hercules which guarded the straits of Gibraltar, there rolled a vast, unknown sea, called the Atlantic Ocean or the Sea of Darkness.

No one, they said, had ever crossed it. No one knew what lay beyond it. All was mystery. And any mariners, the sailors said, who had ventured far out on its black waters had never returned.

Fearful things had happened to such mariners, the sailors added, for the Sea of Darkness swarmed with spectres, devils, and imps. And when night fell, slimy monsters crawled and swam in its boiling waves. Among these monsters, was an enormous nautilus large enough to crush a whole ship in its squirming arms, and a serpent fifty leagues long with flaming eyes and horse’s mane. Sea-elephants, sea-lions, and sea-tigers, fed in beds of weeds. Harpies and winged terrors flew over the surface of the water.

And horrible, they said, was the fate which overtook the ship of any foolhardy mariners who ventured too far out on that gloomy ocean. A gigantic hand was thrust up through the waves, and grasped the ship. A polypus, spouting two water-spouts as high as the sky, made such a whirlpool that the vessel, spinning round and round like a top, was sucked down into the roaring abyss.

These frightful sea-yarns and many like them, the sailors told about the Atlantic Ocean, and people believed them. But the eyes of the boy Columbus, as he sat listening, must have sparkled as he longed to explore those mysterious waters of the Sea of Darkness, and follow them to the very edge of the world.

For all that lay to the west of the Azores, was a great and fascinating mystery, when Columbus was a boy, before America was discovered.

THE FORTUNATE ISLES

Listen now to some of the stories that the Irish sailors who visited Genoa, told when Columbus was a boy. And people in those days, believed them to be true.

They told how far, far in the West, where the sun set in crimson splendour, lay the Terrestrial Paradise from which Adam and Eve were driven. And other wonder tales the sailors told.

One was the enchanting tale of Maeldune, the Celtic Knight, who seeking his father’s murderer, sailed over the wide Atlantic in a coracle of skins lapped threefold, one over the other.

Many were the wonder-islands that Maeldune and his comrades visited—the Island of the Silvern Column; the Island of the Flaming Rampart; the Islands of the Monstrous Ants, and the Giant Birds; the Islands of the Fierce Beasts, the Fiery Swine, and the Little Cat; the Islands of the Black Mourners, the Glass Bridge, and the Spouting Water; the Islands of the Red Berries, and the Magic Apples; and the islands of many other wonders.

Many were the strange adventures that Maeldune had in enchanted castles with beautiful Queens and lovely damsels, with monstrous birds, sleep-giving potions, and magic food.

And the Irish sailors told, also, of good St. Brandan who set sail in a coracle, and discovered the Fortunate Isles. There he dwelt in blessed happiness, they said:—

And still another tale the Irish sailors told, a tale of Fairy Land, called the Land of Youth. Thither once went Usheen the Irish Bard.

It happened on a sweet, misty morning that Usheen saw a slender snow-white steed come pacing along the shore of Erin. Silver were his shoes, and a nodding crest of gold was on his head. Upon his back was seated a Fairy Maiden crowned with gold, and wrapped in a trailing mantle adorned with stars of red gold.

Weirdly but sweetly she smiled, and sang an Elfin song; while over sea and shore there fell a dreamy silence. Through the fine mist she urged on her steed, singing sweeter and ever sweeter as she came nearer and nearer to Usheen.

She drew rein before him. His friends saw him spring upon the steed, and fold the Fairy Maiden in his arms. She shook the bridle which rang forth like a chime of bells, and swiftly they sped over the water and across the sea, the snow-white steed running lightly over the waves.

They plunged into a golden haze that shrouded them from mortal eyes. Ghostly towers, castles, and palace-gates loomed dimly before Usheen, then melted away. A hornless doe bounded near him, chased by a white hound. They vanished into the haze.

Then a Fairy Damsel rode swiftly past Usheen, holding up a golden apple to him. Fast behind her, galloped a horseman, his purple cloak streaming in the still air, a sharp sword glittering in his hand. They, too, melted mysteriously away.

And soon Usheen himself vanished into the Land of Youth, into Fairy Land.

These are some of the wonder tales that folk used to tell about the mysterious Atlantic Ocean, when Columbus was a boy.

THE ABSURD TRUTH

When Columbus was a boy, there was a story told that the Earth was round. Nearly every one who heard it thought it foolish—absurd.

“The Earth round!” they said; “do we not know that the Earth is flat? And does not the sun set each night at the edge of the World?”

But young Columbus had a powerful, practical imagination. He believed there were good reasons to think that the Earth was not flat. He attended the University of Pavia. He studied astronomy and other sciences. He learned map-making. He read how the ancient philosophers thought the Earth to be a sphere and how they had tried to prove their theory by observing the sun, moon, and stars.

Then, too, there were scholars in Europe, when Columbus was young, who agreed with the philosophers.

But no scholar or philosopher had ever risked his life in a frail ship and ventured across the terrible Sea of Darkness to battle with its horrors, and prove his theory to be fact. The surging billows of the Atlantic with angry leaping crests of foam, still guarded their mystery.

Young Columbus became a sailor, cruising with his uncle on the Mediterranean, sometimes chasing pirate ships. When older, he made long voyages. He learned to navigate a vessel. He visited, so some historians say, England and Thule. They say, too, that Thule was Iceland. Then if he visited Iceland, Columbus must have heard the strange tale of how Leif, son of Erik the Red, the bold Northman, sailed in a single ship over the Sea of Darkness, and discovered Vinland the Good on the other side of the Atlantic.

Columbus talked with sailors about their voyages. He heard how the waves of the Sea of Darkness sometimes cast upon the Islands of the Azores, gigantic bamboos, queer trees, strange nuts, seeds, carved logs, and bodies of hideous men with flat faces, the flotsam and jetsam from unknown lands far to the west.

Columbus’s imagination and spirit of adventure were fired. He became more eager than ever to explore that vast expanse of water, and learn what really lay in the mysterious region, where the sun set each night and from which the sun returned each morning.

“The Earth is not flat,” thought he, “much goes to prove it. India, from which gold and spices come, is assuredly on the other side. If I can but cross the Sea of Darkness, I shall reach Tartary and Cathay the Golden Country of Kublai Khan. I shall have found a Western Passage to Asia. I will bring back treasure; but more than all else I shall be able to carry the Gospel of Christ to the heathen.”

For Columbus, you must know, was one of the most devout Christian men of his time.

And he signed his name to letters, “Christ Bearing.” Christopher in the Greek language, means Christ-Bearer. Perhaps, he was thinking of the beautiful legend of St. Christopher, who on his mighty shoulders bore the Christ Child across the swelling river, even as he, Christopher Columbus, humbly wished to bear Christ’s Gospel across the raging waters of the Sea of Darkness.

CATHAY THE GOLDEN

Where was Cathay the Golden?

Who was Kublai Khan?

One of Columbus’s favourite books was written by Marco Polo, the great Venetian traveller, who served Kublai, Grand Khan of Tartary in Asia. Cathay was the name which Marco Polo gave to China.

In his book, Marco Polo told of many marvels. In the chief city of Cathay the Golden, ruled over by Kublai Khan, stood the Grand Khan’s palace. Its walls were covered with gold and silver, and adorned with figures of dragons, beasts, and birds. Its lofty roof was coloured outside with vermilion, yellow, green, blue, and every other hue, all shining like crystal.

To this city of Cathay, were brought the most costly articles in the world, gold, silver, precious jewels, spices, and rare silks. The Grand Khan had so many plates, cups, and ewers of gold and silver, that no one would believe it without seeing them. He had five thousand elephants in magnificent trappings, bearing chests on their backs filled with priceless treasure. He had also, a vast number of camels with rich housings.

At the New Year Feast, the people made presents to Kublai Khan of gold, silver, pearls, precious stones, and rich stuffs. They presented him, also, with many beautiful snow-white horses handsomely caparisoned.

These and other wonderful things, did Marco Polo write about in his book, and Columbus read them all.

. . . . . . . . . .

At last the time came, when Columbus was fully determined to discover a Western Passage, and thus open a path through the Ocean from Europe to Asia.

The Spanish courtiers laughed at Columbus; they called him a fool and madman to believe that the Sea of Darkness might be crossed. But as the years of waiting went by, Columbus grew stronger in his determination.

The story of his many years of patient but determined waiting in Spain, of his pleadings with King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, for money, men, and ships with which to cross the Ocean Sea, is told in “Good Stories for Great Holidays.”

And in “Good Stories for Great Holidays,” it is told how at last Columbus was befriended by the Friar Juan Perez. There also may be found the stories of Columbus and the Egg, of his little son Diego at La Rabida, of Queen Isabella pledging her jewels, of Columbus’s sailing across the Sea of Darkness, of the mutiny, of his faith, perseverance, and wisdom, and how at last he sighted a cluster of beautiful green islands, lying like emeralds in the blue waters of the Atlantic—all these stories may be read in “Good Stories for Great Holidays.”

THE EMERALD ISLANDS
Columbus’s Day, October 12, 1492

It was with songs of praise, that Columbus first landed on one of those emerald islands of the New World.

And what delightful islands they were, sparkling with streams, and filled with trees of great height. There were fruits, flowers, and honey in abundance. Among the large leaves and bright blossoms, flocks of birds sang and called. There were cultivated fields of Indian corn.

And there were savages, naked dark-skinned folk, who peeped from behind trees, or ran frightened away. Later they grew bolder, and traded with Columbus and his men. Some of the savages smoked rolls of dried leaves. This was the first tobacco that white men had ever seen. Thus Columbus and his men discovered Indian corn, and tobacco.

As Columbus sailed along the shores of the islands, he watched anxiously for the crystal-shining domes of Kublai Khan’s Palace to rise among the trees. But no Cathay the Golden gleamed among the green, no elephants in trappings of cloth-of-gold, paced the sands.

Instead, all was wild though so beautiful. The only people were the dark-skinned ones, whom Columbus named Indians; for he was sure that he had come across the Sea of Darkness by the Western Passage to India.

THE MAGNIFICENT RETURN

It was a day of great rejoicing when Columbus returned to Spain. The whole country rose up to do him honour. Bells were rung, mass was said, and vast crowds cheered him as he passed along streets and highways.

No one called him a fool and madman then. Had he not crossed the Sea of Darkness and returned alive? Neither nautilus, gigantic hand, nor polypus had dared to harm him. The Sea of Darkness was a mysterious gloomy sea no longer, instead it was the wide Atlantic Ocean, a safe pathway for brave mariners and good ships, a pathway leading to new lands of gold and spices far toward the setting sun. And so all Spain did honour to Columbus.

King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella eagerly awaited him at Barcelona. He entered that city with pomp and in procession. Balconies, windows, roofs were thronged. Crowds surged through the streets to gaze in wonder on that strange procession, so spectacular, so magnificent.

First came the dark-skinned savage men, in paint and gold ornaments; after them walked men bearing live parrots of every colour; then others came carrying rich glittering coronets and bracelets, together with beautiful fruits and strange vegetables and plants, such as the people of Europe had never dreamed could exist.

Then passed the great discoverer himself, Christopher Columbus, a-horseback, and surrounded by a cavalcade of the most brilliant courtiers of Spain.

He dismounted, and entered the saloon where the King and Queen sat beneath a canopy of brocade. He modestly greeted them on bended knee. They raised him most graciously, and bade him be seated in their presence.

After they had heard his tale with wonder, and had examined the treasures that he had brought with him from beyond the Sea of Darkness, the King and Queen together with their whole Court knelt in thanksgiving to God.

To reward Columbus, his Sovereigns bestowed upon him the titles of Don Christopher Columbus, Our Admiral of the Ocean Sea, and Viceroy and Governor of the Islands discovered in the Indies. They also promised to make him ruler over any other islands and mainland he might discover.

Columbus immediately began to prepare for another voyage. With a fleet of seventeen ships, bearing supplies and colonists, he sailed across the Sea of Darkness once more to the islands of the New World. He planted a colony there. He discovered other islands. And he still kept on searching diligently for Cathay the Golden.

Turbulent adventurers, rapacious gold-hunters, and vicious men, were among the colonists. And Columbus, in the name of his Sovereigns, with great difficulty ruled over them all.

THE FATAL PEARLS

Tierra Firme

It was in May, 1498. The fleet of Admiral Don Christopher Columbus, in the name of the Holy Trinity, set sail from Spain for a third voyage across the Atlantic.

It was no longer a Sea of Darkness to Columbus, but a sure pathway to golden lands. There he still hoped to find the Earthly Paradise from which Adam and Eve had been driven. And there too, he still expected to discover Cathay the Golden in Tartary, and Cipango, the great island of the western sea, which we call Japan.

His ships sailed on, now plunging through the lifting billows, now lying becalmed on glassy waters under the fierce rays of the tropic sun, and now moving through a region of balmy airs and light refreshing breezes.

July arrived, yet he had not sighted land. The fierce heat of the sun had sprung the seams of the ships. The provisions were rancid. There was scarcely any sweet water left in the casks. The anxious, watchful Admiral scanned the horizon.

On the last day of the month, came a shout from the masthead:—“Land!”

And Columbus beheld the peaks of three mountains rising from the sea, outlined sharply against the sky. Then he and his men, lifting up their voices, sang anthems of praise and repeated prayers of thanksgiving.

As the ships drew nearer to the three peaks, Columbus perceived that they rose from an island and were united at their base.

“Three in one,” he said, and named the island after the Holy Trinity in whose name he had set sail. For he had vowed before leaving Spain, to name the first new land he saw after the Trinity. That is why that island, to-day, is called Trinidad.

They filled their casks there. Then onward they sailed, skirting the coast of Trinidad, hoping to find a harbour to put into while repairing the ships. Soon, they saw a misty headland opposite the island.

“It is another island,” said Columbus.

It was no island. Wonderful to relate, Columbus had just discovered a new Country.

It was the coastline of a vast southern continent. It was Tierra Firme. It was South America!

The Pearls

Young Indian braves, graceful and handsome, their black hair straight and long, their heads wrapped in brilliant scarfs, other bright scarfs wound round their middles, came in a canoe to visit Columbus’s ships.

Soon after this visit, Columbus set sail again, not knowing that he had just sighted one of the richest and greatest continents on earth. Sailing past the mouths of the mighty Orinoco River, pouring out their torrents with angry roar into the Caribbean Sea, Columbus skirted what is now called Venezuela.

Other friendly Indians came to his ships. It was then that Columbus saw for the first time the pearls which were to help ruin him, and which were to work wretchedness and death for so many poor Indian folk.

Among the friendly Indians were some who wore bracelets of lustrous pearls. The gold and spices got by Columbus on his former voyages were of slight beauty compared with those strings of magnificent pearls.

Columbus examined them eagerly. He longed for some to send back to Queen Isabella, in order to prove to her what a rich land he had just discovered.

He questioned the Indians. Where had they got the pearls? They came from their own land, and from a country to the north and west, they answered.

Columbus was eager to go thither. But first he sent men ashore to barter for some of the bracelets. With bright bits of earthenware, with buttons, scissors, and needles, they bought quantities of the pearls from the delighted Indians, to whom such articles were worth more than gold and jewels of which they had plenty.

Then Columbus, hoisting sail, ran farther along the coast purchasing pearls until he had half a bushel or so of the lustrous sea-jewels, some of them of very large size.

He named a great gulf, the Gulf of Pearls. He discovered other islands, among them the island of Margarita, which means a pearl.

After which he turned his ships toward Santo Domingo, not knowing how tragic a thing was to befall him there, partly on account of the pearls.

The Curse of the Pearls

Those fatal sea-jewels had already begun their evil work.

While Columbus was tarrying to collect them, a rebellion fomented by bad men who had taken advantage of his absence, had broken out in the Island of Santo Domingo. When Columbus reached there, he suppressed it. But his enemies hastened to send lying reports about him to the Spanish Court. And the courtiers, who were jealous of his high position, wealth, and power, urged King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella to have him deposed.

One of their accusations against him was, that he had held back from his Sovereigns their rightful portion of the rich find of pearls.

So at last, the royal edict went forth that the very magnificent Don Christopher Columbus, Admiral of the Ocean Sea, Viceroy and Governor of the Indies, should be tried and, if found guilty, deposed and returned to Spain.

The man sent to do all this, and govern in Columbus’s stead, was named Bobadilla.

Bobadilla arrived at Santo Domingo with royal commands for Columbus to surrender all power to him, and to obey him in everything. He caused him to be arrested and thrown into prison. He tried and condemned him. He ordered him put into chains. But no one could be found to rivet the chains until one of Columbus’s own servants, “a shameless and graceless cook,” did so with glee.

Then Bobadilla reigned in Columbus’s place over the Indies.

Meanwhile, the grand old Admiral broken in spirit, carped at by his foes, was placed in manacles aboard a caravel.

Bobadilla had given orders that the chains should not be removed, but the humane master of the ship offered to break them.

“Nay,” said Columbus with dignity, “my Sovereigns have commanded me to submit, and Bobadilla has chained me. I will wear these irons until by royal order they are removed. And I shall keep them as relics and memorials of the reward of my services.”

But when Queen Isabella learned how he had been brought back to Spain in shackles, she was greatly angered. Both Sovereigns commanded that he should be immediately released. And when the venerable Columbus grown old in her service, entered her presence, Queen Isabella wept bitterly. Columbus fell at her feet, unable to utter a word, so great was his sorrow.

Both Sovereigns promised to restore all his titles and the wealth which had been taken from him by force. But though Bobadilla was finally deposed from power because of his treatment of Columbus and because of his evil rule, yet the royal promise was not fulfilled. His titles and property were never restored to Columbus.

Instead, he was again sent overseas, on a fourth voyage of discovery.

With four miserable caravels manned by only a hundred and fifty men, the gray-headed, weary Columbus set forth once more still hoping to discover the country of Kublai Khan, and find the Earthly Paradise. And this time Columbus took with him his younger son, Ferdinand, who was thirteen years old.

QUEEN ISABELLA’S PAGE

Off to find Kublai Khan, to drink from his golden cups, to eat from his silvern plates, to ride his elephants, to visit in his great palace, and, perhaps, to discover the Earthly Paradise—what more thrilling adventure could a boy want?

So Ferdinand Columbus, Queen Isabella’s page, eager for adventure, set sail with his father Columbus, to cross the Sea of Darkness and explore beyond the emerald islands.

For, while his father, on his former voyage, had been gathering pearls among the Pearl Islands of the New World, the boy Ferdinand, amid the splendour of the Spanish Court, had been waiting upon Queen Isabella.

But now, what a change! Ferdinand was off across the heaving, foaming Sea of Darkness in a small caravel tossed about like a cockleshell on the billows. A tempest with rain, thunder, and lightning arose. It struck Columbus’s wretched caravels. They were buffeted by the wind, their sails were torn, their rigging, cables, and boats were lost. Food was washed overboard. The sailors were terrified, they ran about making religious vows and confessing their sins to each other. Even the boldest was pale with fear.

“But the distress of my son who was with me, grieved me to the soul ...” wrote Columbus afterward, “for he was but thirteen years old, and he enduring so much toil for so long a time. Our Lord, however, gave him strength to enable him to encourage the rest. He worked as if he had been eighty years at sea.”

But there was more to trouble plucky Ferdinand than the storm at sea. Columbus, his father, fell sick near to death. There was no one who could direct the ships’ course, but Columbus himself. So he had a little cabin rigged up on deck. Lying there, he gave his orders. Presently, to Ferdinand’s joy, he grew better.

Meanwhile, what was happening to the wicked Bobadilla? That same tempest was doing great things. It was buffeting, lashing, and wrecking a caravel which was taking Bobadilla to Spain. The ship, plunging under the howling, raging, black waters, sank to the bottom of the ocean, taking Bobadilla with it, and the treasure he had stolen from Columbus.

But Columbus’s own caravels won safely through the storm and across the Caribbean Sea. They drew near to an unknown shore—the coast of Central America.

There is not space here in which to tell of the many adventures of Columbus and his men, nor of all the things that Ferdinand saw. There were other storms. At one time, the seas ran high and terrific, foaming like a caldron. The sky burned like a furnace, the lightning played with such fury that the waves were red like blood.

The coast of Central America was thickly peopled with savages. Some of them were richly clothed, and wore ornaments of gold and coral, and carried golden mirrors fastened round their necks. Ferdinand saw other savages in trees living like wild birds, their huts built on sticks placed across from bough to bough. He saw strange beasts, beautiful birds, delicious fruits, brilliant flowers, great apes, and alligators basking in the rivers.

There were fights with natives, a massacre of some of his father’s men, there was starvation and misery. Then Columbus, after having sailed down the coast and back again, turned the ships homeward.

Then came the most terrible adventure of all. The ships were riddled by worms, their sides were rotten, and the water was pouring through them like a sieve. Columbus reached the lonely island of Jamaica, just in time to drive his two remaining ships on the beach, and save them from sinking.

There for many months Ferdinand was marooned with his father and the men. There was more starvation, a mutiny, and adventures with savages. Then came the exciting rescue by two caravels.

Such were the adventures of Queen Isabella’s page. But he went back to Spain without seeing Cathay the Golden and Kublai Khan’s palace.

THE TWIN CITIES

While Columbus was exploring the coast of Central America, he fell sick of a fever. He had a dream. He tells us of this dream in his own letters.

He dreamed that a compassionate Voice spoke to him, bidding him believe in God, and serve Him who had had him from infancy in His constant and watchful care, and who had chosen him to unlock the barriers of the Ocean Sea.

This Voice said many things to Columbus, adding these words, “Even now He partially shows thee the reward of so many toils and dangers incurred by thee in the service of others. Fear not but trust.”

And even then, Columbus, though he did not know it, was actually seeing the land where his hopes were to come true. For to-day, we Americans know that while Columbus was exploring inlets and river-mouths on the coast of Central America searching for the Western Passage to Asia, he entered Limon Bay of Panama. He even sailed part way up the Chagres River.

And if his melancholy eager eyes might have been opened, what a vision he would have had of the future! He would have beheld the Caribbean Sea beating on civilized shores. He would have seen Twin Cities rising, their pleasant white, palm-shaded houses smiling in the sun, the Twin Cities of Cristobal and Colon—Christopher and Columbus—proud to bear his famous name. He would have seen those Twin Cities guarding a Western Passage to Asia.

He would have perceived in his vision ships, greater than any Spanish caravels, sliding through a Canal the wonder of the world, on their way to and from Asia the Golden.

. . . . . . . . . .

But as it was, in a miserable little caravel, tempest-racked, with masts sprung and sides worm-eaten, the weary disappointed Columbus with the boy Ferdinand, returned at last to Spain.

And about two years later, in the City of Valladolid, “the Grand Old Admiral,” who had given a New World to the Old, died almost in poverty. As he passed away, he murmured, “Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”

THE PEARLS AGAIN

The curse of the pearls still held strong after Columbus’s death. News of the discovery of the Pearl Islands in the New World, spread rapidly through Europe. Many cruel and greedy pearl-hunters hastened to set out for the islands.

They pillaged the native villages. They hunted the Indians like wild beasts. They forced them to work in the mines. But, worst of all, they made them dive into the deep sea for pearls, under the most horrible conditions.

Then it was that the compassionate friend of the Indians, the humane priest Bartolome de Las Casas, took up their cause and pleaded for them with the Spanish Crown. But Spain was too far away for the Crown to control Spanish officials in America, and do much to lessen the sufferings of the natives.

Thus sorrow and desolation followed the finding of the sea-jewels. In time, they became a rich part of the cargoes of the Treasure Galleons. And they forged one of the first links in the chain of oppression which bound all Spanish America for over three hundred years.

For how this chain was broken by the great Liberators, read:—