 | CHAPTER XV. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay |  |
15. CHAPTER XV.
Open-ey'd conspiracy
His time doth take:
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake! Awake!”
Ariel.
The wind continuing fair, the three vessels made good
progress in the direction of the Canaries; Sunday, in particular,
proving a propitious day, the expedition making
more than one hundred and twenty miles in the course of
the twenty-four hours. The wind still continued favourable,
and on the morning of Monday the 6th of August, Columbus
was cheerfully conversing with Luis, and one or two
other companions, who were standing near him on the
poop, when the Pinta was seen suddenly to take in her forward
sails, and to come up briskly, not to say awkwardly,
to the wind. This manœuvre denoted some accident, and
the Santa Maria, fortunately having the advantage of the
wind, immediately edged away to speak her consort.
“How now, Señor Martin Alonzo,” hailed the Admiral,
as the two caravels came near enough together to speak
each other. “For what reason hast thou so suddenly
paused in thy course?”
“Fortune would have it so, Señor Don Christoval, seeing
that the rudder of the good caravel hath broken loose, and
we must fain secure it, ere we may again trust ourselves to
the breeze.”
A severe frown came over the grave countenance of the
great navigator, and after bidding Martin Alonzo do his
best to repair the damage, he paced the deck, greatly disturbed,
for several minutes. Observing how much the Admiral
took this accident to heart, the rest descended to the
deck below, leaving Columbus alone with the pretended
groom of the king's chamber.
“I trust, Señor, this is no serious injury, or one in any
that respect which all near him felt for the admiral,
by a pause. “I know honest Martin Alonzo to be a ready
seaman, and should think his expedients might easily serve
to get us as far as the Canaries, where greater damages can
meet with their remedies.”
“Thou say'st true, Luis, and we will hope for the best.
I feel regret the sea is so high that we can offer no
assistance to the Pinta, but Martin Alonzo is, indeed, an
expert mariner, and on his ingenuity we must rely. My
concern, however, hath another and a deeper source than
the unloosing of this rudder, serious as such an injury ever
is to a vessel at sea. Thou know'st that the Pinta hath
been furnished to the service of the queen, under the order
claiming the forfeited duty from the delinquents of Palos,
and sorely against the will of the caravel's owners hath the
vessel been taken. Now these persons, Gomez Rascon and
Christoval Quintero, are on board her, and I question not
have designed this accident. Their artifices were practised
long, to our delay, before quitting the haven, and if would
seem are to be continued to our prejudice here on the open
ocean.”
“By the allegiance I owe the Doña Isabella! Señor Don
Christoval, but I would find a speedy cure for such a treason,
if the office of punishment rested with me. Let me
jump into the skiff and repair to the Pinta, where I will tell
these Masters Rascon and Quintero, that should their rudder
ever dare to break loose again, or should any other similar
and untoward accident chance to arrive, the first shall be
hanged at the yard of his own caravel, and the last be cast
into the sea to examine into the state of her bottom, the
rudder included.”
“We may not practise such high authority without great
occasion, and perfect certainty of guilt. I hold it to be
wiser to seek another caravel at the Canaries, for, by this
accident, I well see we shall not be rid of the artifices of
the two owners, until we are rid of their vessel. It will be
hazardous to launch the skiff in this sea, or I would proceed
to the Pinta myself; but, as it is, let us have confidence
in Martin Alonzo and his skill.”
Columbus thus encouraged the people of the Pinta to
three vessels were again making the best of their way
towards the Canaries. Notwithstanding the delay, nearly
ninety miles were made good in the course of the day and
night. But, the following morning, the rudder again broke
loose, and, as the damage was more serious than in the
former instance, it was still more difficult to repair. These
repeated accidents gave the admiral great concern, for he
took them to be so many indications of the disaffection of
his followers. He fully determined, in consequence, to get
rid of the Pinta, if it were possible to find another suitable
vessel among the islands. As the progress of the vessels
was much retarded by the accident, although the wind continued
favourable, the expedition only got some sixty miles,
this day, nearer to its place of destination.
On the following morning, the three vessels came within
hail of each other; and a comparison of the nautical skill
of the different navigators, or pilots, as it was then the custom
to style them, took place, each offering his opinion as
to the position of the vessels.
It was not the least of the merits of Columbus, that he
succeeded in his great experiment with the imperfect aid
of the instruments then in use. The mariner's compass,
it is true, had been in common service quite a century, if
not longer, though its variations, a knowledge of which is
scarcely less important in long voyages than a knowledge
of the instrument itself, were then unknown to seamen,
who seldom ventured far enough from the land to note
these mysteries of nature, and who, as a class, still relied
almost as much on the ordinary position of the heavenly
bodies to ascertain their routes, as on the nicer results of
calculation. Columbus, however, was a striking exception
to this little-instructed class, having made himself thoroughly
acquainted with all the learning of the period that could be
applied in his profession, or which might aid him in effecting
the great purpose for which alone he now seemed to
live.
As might be expected, the comparison resulted altogether
in the admiral's favour, the pilots in general being soon
convinced that he alone knew the true position of the vessels,
a fact that was soon unanswerably determined by the
out of the ocean, in a south-easterly direction, resembling
well-defined dark clouds clustering in the horizon. As objects
like these are seen at a great distance at sea, more
especially in a transparent atmosphere, and the wind became
light and variable, the vessels, notwithstanding, were unable
to reach Grand Canary, until Thursday, the 8th of August,
or nearly a week after they had left Palos. There they all
ran in, and anchored in the usual haven. Columbus immediately
set about making an inquiry for another caravel,
but proving unsuccessful, he sailed for Gomera, where he
believed it might be easier to obtain the craft he wanted.
While the admiral was thus employed with the Santa Maria
and the Niña, Martin Alonzo remained in port, being unable
to keep company in the crippled condition of the Pinta.
But no suitable vessel being found, Columbus reluctantly
returned to Grand Canary, and after repairing the Pinta,
which vessel was badly caulked, among the other devices
that had been adopted to get her freed from the service,
he sailed again for Gomera, from which island he was to
take his final departure.
During these several changes, a brooding discontent began
to increase among most of the common mariners,
while some even of a higher class, were not altogether free
from the most melancholy apprehensions for the future.
While passing from Grand Canary to Gomera, with all his
vessels, Columbus was again at his post, with Luis and his
usual companions near him, when the admiral's attention
was drawn to a conversation that took place between a
group of the men, who had collected near the main-mast.
It was night, and there being little wind, the voices of the
excited disputants reached farther than they themselves
were aware.
“I tell thee, Pepe,” said the most vociferous and most
earnest of the speakers, “that the night is not darker than
the future of this crew. Look to the west, and what dost
see there? Who hath ever heard of land, after he hath
quitted the Azores, and who is so ignorant as not to know
that Providence hath placed water around all the continents,
with a few islands as stopping-places for mariners, and
spread the broad ocean beyond, with an intention to rebuke
more of miracles than of common worldly things?”
“This is well, Pero,” answered Pepe, “but I know that
Monica thinks the admiral is sent of God, and that we may
look forward to great discoveries, through his means; and
most especially to the spreading of religion among the
heathen.”
“Ay, thy Monica should have been in Doña Isabella's
seat, so learned and positive is she in all matters, whether
touching her own woman's duties, or thine own. She is
thy quean, Pepe, as all in Moguer will swear; and there
are some who say she would gladly govern the port, as she
governeth thee.”
“Say nought against the mother of my child, Pero,”
interrupted Pepe, angrily. “I can bear thy idle words
against myself, but he that speaketh ill of Monica will have
a dangerous enemy.”
“Thou art bold of speech, Pero, when away a hundred
leagues from thine own better nine-tenths,” put in a voice
that Columbus and Luis both knew, on the instant, to belong
to Sancho Mundo, “and art bold enough to jeer Pepe
touching Monica, when we all well know who commandeth
in a certain cabin, where thou art as meek as a hooked dolphin,
whatever thou may'st be here. But, enough of thy
folly about women; let us reason upon our knowledge as
mariners, if thou wilt; instead of asking questions of one
like Pepe, who is too young to have had much experience,
I offer myself as thy catechist.”
“What hast thou, then, to say about this unknown land
that lieth beyond the great ocean, where man hath never
been, or is at all likely to go, with followers such as
these?”
“I have this to say, silly and idle-tongued Pero,—that
the time was when even the Canaries were unknown; when
mariners did not dare to pass the straits, and when the
Portuguese knew nothing of their mines and Guinea, lands
that I myself have visited, and where the noble Don Christoval
hath also been, as I know on the testimony of mine
own eyes.”
“And what hath Guinea, or what have the mines of the
Portuguese to do with this western voyage? All know
surprising that mariners should reach a land that is known
to exist: but who knoweth that the ocean hath other continents,
any more than that the heavens have other earths?”
“This is well, Pero,” observed an attentive by-stander;
“and Sancho will have to drain his wits to answer it.”
“It is well for those who wag their tongues, like women,
without thought of what they say,” coolly returned Sancho,
“but will have little weight with Doña Isabella, or Don Almirante.
Harkee, Pero, thou art like one that hath trodden
the path between Palos and Moguer so often, that thou fanciest
there is no road to Seville or Granada. There must
be a beginning to all things; and this voyage is, out of
doubt, the beginning of voyages to Cathay. We go west,
instead of east, because it is the shorter way; and because,
moreover, it is the only way for a caravel. Now, answer
me, messmates; is it possible for a craft, let her size or rig
be what it may, to pass over the hills and valleys of a continent—I
mean under her canvass, and by fair sailing?”
Sancho waited for a reply, and received a common and
complete admission of the impossibility of the thing.
“Then cast your eyes at the admiral's chart, in the
morning, as he keepeth it spread before him on the poop,
yonder, and you will see that there is land from one pole
to the other, on each side of the Atlantic, thereby rendering
navigation impossible, in any other direction than this
we are now taking. The notion of Pero, therefore, runs in
the teeth of nature.”
“This is so true, Pero,” exclaimed another, the rest assenting,
“that thy mouth ought to be shut.”
But Pero had a mouth that was not very easily closed;
and it is probable that his answer would have been to the
full as acute and irrefutable as that of Sancho, had not
a common exclamation of alarm and horror burst from all
around him. The night was sufficiently clear to permit
the gloomy outlines of the Peak of Teneriffe to be distinctly
visible, even at some distance; and, just at that moment,
flashes of flame shot upwards from its pointed summit, illuminating,
at instants, the huge pile, and then leaving it
in shadowy darkness, an object of mystery and terror.
Many of the seamen dropped on their knees and began to
themselves. Next arose a general murmur; and in a few
minutes, the men who slept were awoke, and appeared
among their fellows, awe-struck and astounded spectators
of the phenomenon. It was soon settled that the attention
of the admiral should be drawn to this strange event, and
Pero was selected for the spokesman.
All this time, Columbus and his companions remained on
the poop, and, as might have been expected, this unlooked-for
change in the appearance of the Peak had not escaped their
attention. Too enlightened to be alarmed by it, they were
watching the workings of the mountain, when Pero, accompanied
by nearly every sailor in the vessel, appeared
on the quarter-deck. Silence having been obtained, Pero
opened the subject of his mission with a zeal that was not
a little stimulated by his fears.
“Señor Almirante,” he commenced, “we have come to
pray your Excellency to look at the summit of the Island
of Teneriffe, where we all think we see a solemn warning
against persevering in sailing into the unknown Atlantic.
It is truly time for men to remember their weakness, and
how much they owe to the goodness of God, when even the
mountains vomit flames and smoke!”
“Have any here ever navigated the Mediterranean, or
visited the island of which Don Ferdinand, the honoured
consort of our lady the queen, is master?” demanded Columbus,
calmly.
“Señor Don Almirante,” hastily answered Sancho, “I
have done so, unworthy as I may seem to have enjoyed
that advantage. And I have seen Cyprus, and Alexandria,
and even Stamboul, the residence of the Great Turk.”
“Well, then, thou may'st have also seen ætna, another
mountain which continueth to throw up those flames, in the
midst of a nature and a scene on which Providence would
seem to have smiled with unusual benignity, instead of angrily
frowning, as ye seem to imagine.”
Columbus then proceeded to give his people an explanation
of the causes of volcanoes, referring to the gentlemen
around him to corroborate the fidelity of his statements.
He told them that he looked upon this little eruption as
merely a natural occurrence; or, if he saw any omen at all
seeming disposed to light them on their way. Luis
and the rest next descended among the crew, where they
used their reasoning powers in quieting an alarm that, at
first, had threatened to be serious. For the moment they
were successful, or perhaps it would be better to say that
they succeeded completely, so far as the phenomenon of the
volcano was concerned, and this less by the arguments of
the more intelligent of the officers, than by means of the
testimony of Sancho, and one or two others of the common
men, who had seen similar scenes elsewhere. With difficulties
like these, had the great navigator to contend, even
after he had passed years in solicitations to obtain the limited
means which had been finally granted, in order to effect
one of the sublimest achievements that had yet crowned the
enterprise of man!
The vessels reached Gomera on the 2d of September,
where they remained several days, in order to complete
their repairs, and to finish taking in their supplies, ere they
finally left the civilized abodes of man, and what might then
be deemed the limits of the known earth. The arrival of
such an expedition, in an age when the means of communication
were so few that events were generally their own
announcers, had produced a strong sensation among the
inhabitants of the different islands visited by the adventurers.
Columbus was held in high honour among them, not
only on account of the commission he had received from
the two sovereigns, but on account of the magnitude and
the romantic character of his undertaking.
There existed a common belief among all the adjacent
islands, including Madeira, the Azores and the Canaries,
that land lay to the westward; their inhabitants living
under a singular delusion in this particular, which the admiral
had an occasion to detect, during his second visit to
Gomera. Among the most distinguished persons who were
then on the island, was Doña Inez Peraza, the mother of
the Count of Gomera. She was attended by a crowd of
persons, not only belonging to her own, but who had come
from other islands to do her honour. She entertained the
admiral in a manner suited to his high rank, admitting to
her society such of the adventurers as Columbus saw fit to
Pedro de Muños, or Pero Gutierrez, as he was now indifferently
termed, was of the number; as, indeed, were most
of those who might be deemed any way suited to so high
and polished a society.
“I rejoice, Don Christopher,” said Doña Inez Peraza, on
this occasion, “that their Highnesses have at length yielded
to your desire to solve this great problem, not only on account
of our Holy Church, which, as you say, hath so deep
an interest in your success, and the honour of the two sovereigns,
and the welfare of Spain, and all the other great
considerations that we have so freely touched upon in our
discourse already, but on account of the worthy inhabitants
of the Fortunate Islands, who have not only many traditions
touching land in the west, but most of whom believe that
they have more than once seen it, in that quarter, in the
course of their lives.”
“I have heard of this, noble lady, and would be grateful
to have the account from the mouths of eye-witnesses, now
we are here, together, conversing freely concerning that
which is of so much interest to us all.”
“Then, Señor, I will entreat this worthy cavalier, who
is every way capable of doing the subject justice, to be
spokesman for us, and to let you know what we all believe
in these islands, and what so many of us fancy we have
seen. Acquaint the admiral, Señor Dama, I pray thee, of
the singular yearly view that we get of unknown land,
lying afar off, in the Atlantic.”
“Most readily, Doña Inez, and all the more so at your
gracious bidding,” returned the person addressed, who disposed
himself to tell the story, with a readiness that the
lovers of the wonderful are apt to betray when a fitting
opportunity offers to indulge a favourite propensity. “The
illustrious admiral hath probably heard of the island of
St. Brandan, that lieth some eighty or a hundred leagues to
the westward of Ferro, and which hath been so often seen,
but which no navigator hath yet been able to reach, in our
days at least?”
“I have often heard of this fabled spot, Señor,” the admiral
gravely replied; “but, pardon me if I say that the
a mariner hath not reached.”
“Nay, noble admiral,” interrupted a dozen eager voices,
among which that of the lady, herself, was very distinctly
audible, “that it hath been seen, most here know; and that
it hath never been reached, is a fact to which more than
one disappointed pilot can testify.”
“That which we have seen, we know; and that which
we know, we can describe,” returned Columbus, steadily.
“Let any man tell me in what meridian, or on what parallel
this St. Brandan, or St. Barandon, lieth, and a week
shall make me also certain of its existence.”
“I know little of meridians or parallels, Don Christopher,”
said the Señor Dama, “but I have some ideas of
visible things. This island have I often seen, more or less
plainly at different times; and that, too, under the serenest
skies, and at occasions when it was not possible greatly to
mistake either its form or its dimensions. Once I remember
to have seen the sun set behind one of its heights.”
“This is plain evidence, and such as a navigator should
respect; and yet do I take what you imagine yourself to
have seen, Señor, to be some illusion of the atmosphere.”
“Impossible! — impossible!” was said, or echoed, by a
dozen voices. “Hundreds yearly witness the appearance
of St. Brandan, and its equally sudden and mysterious disappearance.”
“Therein, noble lady and generous cavalier, lieth the
error into which ye have fallen. Ye see the Peak the
year round; and he who will cruise a hundred miles, north
or south, east or west, of it, will continue to see it, the year
round, except on such days as the state of the atmosphere
may forbid. The land which God hath created stationary,
will be certain to remain stationary, until disturbed by some
great convulsion that cometh equally of his providence and
his laws.”
“All this may be true, Señor; doubtless it is true; but
every rule hath its exceptions. You will not deny that God
ruleth the world mysteriously, and that his ends are not
always visible to human eyes. Else, why hath the Moor
so long been permitted to rule in Spain? why hath the Infidel,
at this moment, possession of the Holy Sepulchre?
well-grounded wishes and entreaties to be permitted to carry
their banners, in company with the cross, to the Cathay,
whither you are now bound? Who knoweth that these
appearances of St. Brandan may not be given as signs to
encourage one like yourself, bent on still greater ends than
even reaching its shores?”
Columbus was an enthusiast; but his was an enthusiasm
that was seated in his reverence for the acknowledged
mysteries of religion, which sought no other support from
things incomprehensible, than might reasonably be thought
to belong to the exercise of infallible wisdom, and which
manifested a proper reverence for a Divine Power. Like
most of that period, he believed in modern miracles; and his
dependence on the direct worldly efficacy of votive offerings,
penances and prayers, was such as marked the age
in general, and his calling in particular. Still, his masculine
understanding rejected the belief of vulgar prodigies;
and while he implicitly thought himself set apart and selected
for the great work before him, he was not disposed
to credit that an airy exhibition of an island was placed in
the west to tempt mariners to follow its shadowy outline to
the more distant regions of Cathay.
“That I feel the assurance of the Providence of God
having selected me as the humble instrument of connecting
Europe with Asia, by means of a direct voyage by sea, is
certain,” returned the navigator, gravely, though his eye
lighted with its latent enthusiasm; “but I am far from
indulging in the weakness of thinking, that direct, miraculous,
agencies are to be used to guide me on my way. It
is more in conformity to the practice of divine wisdom, and
certainly more grateful to my own self-love, that the means
employed are such as a discreet pilot, and the most experienced
philosophers, might feel proud in finding themselves
selected to display. My thoughts have first been turned to
the contemplation of this subject; then hath my reason
been enlightened by a due course of study and reflection,
and science hath aided in producing the conviction necessary
to impel myself to proceed, and to enable me to induce
others, to join in this enterprise.”
“And do all your followers, noble admiral, act under the
Luis, whose manly graces, and martial aspect, had found
favour in the eyes of most of the ladies of the island. “Is
the Señor Gutierrez equally enlightened in this manner?
and hath he, too, devoted his nights to study, in order that
the cross may be carried to the heathen, and Castile and
Cathay may be more closely united?”
“The Señor Gutierrez is a willing adventurer, Señora;
but he must be the expounder of his own motives.”
“Then will we call on the cavalier himself, for an answer.
These ladies feel a desire to know what may have
impelled one who would be certain to succeed at the court
of Doña Isabella, and in the Moorish wars, to join in such
an expedition.”
“The Moorish wars are ended, Señora,” replied Luis,
smiling; “and Doña Isabella, and all the ladies of her
court, most favour the youths who show a manly disposition
to serve the interests, and to advance the honour of
Castile. I know very little of philosophy, and have still
smaller pretensions to the learning of churchmen; but I
think I see Cathay before me, shining like a brilliant star in
the heavens, and am willing to adventure body and soul in
its search.”
Many pretty exclamations of admiration broke from the
circle of fair listeners; it being most easy for spirit to gain
applause, when it is recommended by high personal advantages,
and comes from the young and favoured. That Columbus,
a weather-worn veteran of the ocean, should see
fit to risk a life that was already drawing near its close,
in a rash attempt to pry into the mysteries of the Atlantic,
seemed neither so commendable, nor so daring, but many discover
high qualities in the character of one who was just
entering on his career, and that under auspices apparently
so flattering, and who threw all his hopes on the uncertain
chances of success in a scheme so unusual. Luis was human,
and he was in the full enjoyment of the admiration
his enterprise had evidently awakened among so many sensitive
young creatures, when Doña Inez most inopportunely
interposed to interrupt his happiness, and to wound his selfesteem.
“This is having more honourable views than my letters
proudest of our Castilian houses, and whose titles alone
should invite him to add new lustre to a name that hath so
long been the Spanish boast,” resumed the Señora Peraza.
“The reports speak of his desire to rove, but in a manner
unworthy of his rank; and that, too, in a way to serve
neither the sovereigns, his country, nor himself.”
“And who may this misguided youth be, Señora?”
eagerly inquired Luis, too much elated by the admiration
he had just excited to anticipate the answer. “A cavalier
thus spoken of, needeth to be warned of his reputation, that
he may be stimulated to attempt better things.”
“His name is no secret, since the court speaketh openly
of his singular and ill-judged career; and it is said that
even his love hath been thwarted in consequence. I mean
a cavalier of no less lineage and name than Don Luis de
Bobadilla, the count of Llera.”
It is said that listeners seldom hear good of themselves,
and Luis was now fated to verify the truth of the axiom.
He felt the blood rushing to his face, and it required a
strong effort at self-command to prevent him from breaking
out in exclamations, that would probably have contained
invocations of half the patron saints he had ever heard of,
had he not happily succeeded in controlling the sudden impulse.
Gulping the words he had been on the point of
uttering, he looked round, with an air of defiance, as if
seeking the countenance of some man who might dare even
to smile at what had been said. Luckily, at that moment,
Columbus had drawn all of the males present around himself,
in warm discussion of the probable existence of the
island of St. Brandan; and Luis nowhere met a smile,
with which he could conveniently quarrel, that had a setting
of beard to render it hostile. Fortunately, the gentle
impulses that are apt to influence a youthful female, induced
one of Doña Inez's fair companions to speak, and
that in a way greatly to relieve the feelings of our hero.
“True, Señora,” rejoined the pretty young advocate, the
first tones of whose voice had an effect to calm the tempest
that was rising in the bosom of the young man;
“true, Señora, it is said that Don Luis is a wanderer, and
one of unsettled tastes and habits, but it is also said he
heaven themselves, and carrieth the very best lance of Castile,
as he is also like to carry off the fairest maiden.”
“It is vain, Señor de Muños, for churchmen to preach,
and parents to frown,” said Doña Inez, smiling, “while
the beautiful and young will prize courage, and deeds in
arms, and an open hand, before the more homely virtues
commended by our holy religion, and so zealously inculcated
by its servants. The unhorsing of a knight or two
in the tourneys, and the rallying a broken squadron under
a charge of the Infidel, counteth far more than years of
sobriety, and weeks of penance and prayer.”
“How know we that the cavalier you mention, Señora,
may not have his weeks of penance and his hours of prayer?”
answered Luis, who had now found his voice. “Should
he be so fortunate as to enjoy a conscientious religious adviser,
he can scarce escape both, prayer being so often
ordered in the way of penance. He seemeth, indeed, to be a
miserable dog, and I wonder not that his mistress holdeth
him cheap. Is the name of the lady, also, given in your
letter?”
“It is. She is the Doña Maria de las Mercedes de Valverde,
nearly allied to the Guzmans and the other great
houses, and one of the fairest maidens of Spain.”
“That is she!” exclaimed Luis, “and one of the most
virtuous, as well as fair, and wise as virtuous!”
“How now, Señor, is it possible that you can have sufficient
knowledge of one so situated, as to speak thus positively
of her qualities, as well as of her appearance?”
“Her beauty I have seen, and of her excellencies one
may speak by report. But doth your correspondent, Senora,
say aught of what hath become of the graceless
lover?”
“It is rumoured that he hath again quitted Spain, and,
as is supposed, under the grave displeasure of the sovereigns;
since it hath been remarked that the queen now
never nameth him. None know the road he hath taken,
but there is little doubt that he is again roaming the seas,
as usual, in quest of low adventures among the ports of the
east.”
The conversation now changed, and soon after the admiral
and his attendants repaired to their different vessels.
“Of a verity, Señor Don Christoval,” said Luis, as he
walked alone with the great navigator towards the shore,
“one little knoweth when he is acquiring fame, and when
not. Though but an indifferent mariner, and no pilot, I
find my exploits on the ocean are well bruited abroad! If
your Excellency but gain half the reputation I already
enjoy, by this present expedition, you will have reason to
believe that your name will not be forgotten by posterity.”
“It is a tribute the great pay for their elevation, Luis,”
returned the admiral, “that all their acts are commented
on, and that they can do little that may be concealed from
observation, or escape remarks.”
“It would be as well, Señor Almirante, to throw into the
scales, at once, calumnies, and lies, and uncharitableness,
for all these are to be added to the list. Is it not wonderful,
that a young man cannot visit a few foreign lands, in
order to increase his knowledge and improve his parts, but
all the gossips of Castile should fill their letters to the gossips
of the Canaries, with passages touching his movements
and demerits! By the Martyrs of the East! if I
were Queen of Castile, there should be a law against writing
of others' movements, and I do not know, but a law
against women's writing letters at all!”
“In which case, Señor de Muños, thou wouldst never
possess the satisfaction of receiving a missive from the
fairest hand in Castile.”
“I mean a woman's writing to a woman, Don Christopher.
As to letters from noble maidens intended to cheer
the hearts and animate the deeds of cavaliers who adore
them, they are useful, out of doubt, and the saints be deaf
to the miscreant who would forbid, or intercept them! No,
Señor, I trust that travelling hath at least made me liberal,
by raising me above the narrow prejudices of provinces
and cities, and I am far from wishing to put an end to letters
from mistresses to their knights, or from parents to
their children, or even from wives to their husbands; but,
as for the letters of a gossip to a gossip, by your leave,
Señor Almirante, I detest them just as much as the Father
of Sin detests this expedition of ours!”
“An expedition, certainly, that he hath no great reason
to love,” answered Columbus, smiling, “since it will be
followed by the light of revelation and the triumph of the
cross. But what is thy will, friend, that thou seemest in
waiting for me, to disburthen thyself of something? Thy
name is Sancho Mundo, if I remember thy countenance?”
“Señor Don Almirante, your memory hath not mistaken,”
returned the person addressed—“I am Sancho
Mundo, as your Excellency saith, sometimes called Sancho
of the Ship-Yard Gate. I desire to say a few words, concerning
the fate of our voyage, whenever it shall suit you,
noble Señor, to hear me where there are no ears present
that you distrust.”
“Thou may'st speak freely, now; this cavalier being my
confidant and secretary.”
“It is not necessary that I should tell a great pilot, like
your Excellency, who is King of Portugal, or what the
mariners of Lisbon have been about these many years,
since you know all that better than myself. Therefore I
will just add, that they are discovering all the unknown
lands they can, for themselves, and preventing others, as
much as in them lies, from doing the same thing.”
“Don John of Portugal is an enlightened prince, fellow,
and thou would'st do well to respect his character and rank.
His Highness is a liberal sovereign, and hath sent many
noble expeditions forth from his harbour.”
“That he hath, Señor, and this last is not the least in its
designs and intentions,” answered Sancho, turning a look
of irony towards the admiral, that showed the fellow had
more in reserve than he cared to divulge without some
wheedling. “No one doubts Don John's willingness to
send forth expeditions.”
“Thou hast heard some intelligence, Sancho, that it is
proper I should know! Speak freely, and rely on my repaying
any service of this sort, to the full extent of its deservings.”
“If your Excellency will have patience to hear me, I will
give the whole story, with all minuteness and particularity,
and that in a way to leave no part untold, and all parts to
be as easily understood as heart can wish, or a priest in the
confessional could desire.”
“Speak; no one will interrupt thee. As thou art frank,
so will be thy reward.”
“Well, then, Señor Don Almirante, you must know that
about eleven years since, I made a voyage from Palos to
Sicily, in a caravel belonging to the Pinzons, here; not to
Martin Alonzo, who commandeth the Pinta, under your
Excellency's orders, but to a kinsman of his late father's,
who caused better craft to be constructed than we are apt
to get in these days of hurry, and rotten cordage, and careless
caulking, to say nothing of the manner in which the
canvass is—”
“Nay, good Sancho,” interrupted the impatient Luis,
who was yet smarting under the remarks of Doña Inez's
correspondent—“thou forgettest night is near, and that the
boat is waiting for the admiral.”
“How should I forget that, Señor, when I can see the
sun just dipping into the water, and I belong to the boat
myself, having left it in order to tell the noble admiral what
I have to say?”
“Permit the man to relate his story in his own manner,
Señor Pedro, I pray thee,” put in Columbus. “Nought is
gained by putting a seaman out in his reckoning.”
“No, your Excellency, or in kicking with a mule. And
so, as I was saying, I went that voyage to Sicily, and had
for a messmate one José Gordo, a Portuguese by birth, but
a man who liked the wines of Spain better than the puckering
liquors of his own country, and so sailed much in
Spanish craft. I never well knew, notwithstanding, whether
José was, in heart, most of a Portuguese, or a Spaniard,
though he was certainly but an indifferent Christian.”
“It is to be hoped that his character hath improved,”
said Columbus, calmly. “As I foresee that something is
to follow on the testimony of this José, you will let me say,
that an indifferent Christian is but an indifferent witness.
Tell me, at once, therefore, what he hath communicated,
that I may judge for myself of the value of his words.”
“Now, he that doubteth your Excellency will not discover
Cathay is a heretic, seeing that you have discovered
my secret without having heard it! José has just arrived,
in the felucca that is riding near the Santa Maria,
and hearing that we were an expedition that had one Sancho
to see his old shipmate.”
“All that is so plain, that I wonder thou thinkest it
worthy of relating, Sancho; but, now we have him safe on
board the good ship, we can come at once to the subject of
his communication.”
“That may we, Señor; and so, without any unnecessary
delay, I will state, that the subject was touching Don John
of Portugal, Don Ferdinand of Aragon, Doña Isabella of
Castile, your Excellency, Señor Don Almirante, the Señor
de Muños here, and myself.”
“This is a strange company!” exclaimed Luis, laughing,
while he slipped a piece of eight into the hand of the sailor;
“perhaps that may aid thee in shortening the story of the
singular conjunction.”
“Another, Señor, would bring the tale to an end at once.
To own the truth, José is behind that wall, and as he told
me he thought his news worth a dobla, he will be greatly
displeased at finding I have received my half of it, while
his half still remaineth unpaid.”
“This, then, will set his mind at rest,” said Columbus,
placing an entire dobla in the hand of the cunning fellow,
for the admiral perceived by his manner that Sancho had
really something of importance to communicate. “Thou
canst summon José to thy aid, and deliver thyself, at once,
of thy burthen.”
Sancho did as directed, and in a minute José had appeared,
had received the dobla, weighed it deliberately on his
finger, pocketed it, and commenced his tale. Unlike the
artful Sancho, he told his story at once, beginning at the
right end, and ceasing to speak as soon as he had no more
to communicate. The substance of the tale is soon related.
José had come from Ferro, and had seen three armed
caravels, wearing the flag of Portugal, cruising among the
islands, under circumstances that left little doubt their object
was to intercept the Castilian expedition. As the man
referred to a passenger or two, who had landed within the
hour, to corroborate his statement, Columbus and Luis immediately
sought the lodgings of these persons, in order to
hear their report of the matter. The result proved that
the sailor had stated nothing but what was true.
“Of all our difficulties and embarrassments, Luis,” resumed
the admiral, as the two finally proceeded to the
shore, “this is much the most serious! We may be detained
altogether by these treacherous Portuguese, or we
may be followed in our voyage, and have our fair laurels
seized upon by others, and all the benefits so justly due for
our toil and risk usurped, or at least disputed, by men who
had not the enterprise and knowledge to accept the boon,
when fairly offered to them.”
“Don John of Portugal must have sent far better knights
than the Moors of Granada to do the feat,” answered Luis,
who had a Spaniard's distaste for his peninsular neighbours;
“he is a bold and learned prince, they say, but the commission
and ensigns of the sovereign of Castile are not to
be disregarded, and that, too, in the midst of her own
islands, here.”
“We have no force fit to contend with that which hath
most probably been sent against us. The number and size
of our vessels are known, and the Portuguese, questionless,
have resorted to the means necessary to effect their purposes,
whatever those purposes may be. Alas! Luis, my
lot hath been hard, though I humbly trust that the end
will repay me for all! Years did I sue the Portuguese to
enter fairly into this voyage, and to endeavour to do that,
in all honour, which our gracious mistress, Doña Isabella,
hath now so creditably commenced; he listened to my
reasons and entreaties with cold ears—nay, repelled them,
with ridicule and disdain; and, yet, here am I scarce
fairly embarked in the execution of schemes that they have
so often derided, than they endeavour to defeat me by
violence and treachery.”
“Noble Don Christoval, we will die to a Castilian, ere
this shall come to pass!”
“Our only hope is in speedy departure. Thanks to the
industry and zeal of Martin Alonzo, the Pinta is ready, and
we may quit Gomera with the morning's sun. I doubt if
they will have the hardihood to follow us into the trackless
and unknown Atlantic, without any other guides than their
own feeble knowledge; and we will depart with the return
of the sun. All now dependeth on quitting the Canaries
unseen.”
As this was said, they reached the boat, and were quickly
pulled on board the Santa Maria. By this time the peaks
of the islands were towering like gloomy shadows in the
atmosphere, and, soon after, the caravels resembled dark,
shapeless specks, on the unquiet element that washed their
hulls.
| CHAPTER XV. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay | |