 | CHAPTER XI. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay |  |
11. CHAPTER XI.
By the state-papers of Buffon,
To deep researches led;
A Gallo-Celtic scheme may botch,
To prove the Ourang race were Scotch,
Who from the Highlands fled.”
Lord John Townshend.
The intelligence of the return of Columbus, and of the
important discoveries he had made, spread through Europe
like wild-fire. It soon got to be, in the general estimation,
the great event of the age. For several years afterwards,
or until the discovery of the Pacific by Balboa, it was believed
passage; and of course the problem of the earth's spherical
shape was held to be solved by actual experiment. The
transactions of the voyage, the wonders seen, the fertility
of the soil of the east, the softness of its climate, its treasures
in gold, spices, and pearls, and the curious things that
the admiral had brought as proofs of his success, were all
the themes of the hour. Men never wearied in discussing
the subjects. For many centuries had the Spaniards been
endeavouring to expel the Moors from the Peninsula; but,
as that much-desired event had been the result of time and
a protracted struggle, even its complete success seemed
tame and insignificant compared with the sudden brilliancy
that shone around the western discoveries. In a word, the
pious rejoiced in the hope of spreading the gospel; the avaricious
feasted their imaginations on untold hoards of gold;
the politic calculated the increase of the power of Spain;
the scientific exulted in the triumph of mind over prejudice
and ignorance, while they hoped for still greater accessions
of knowledge; and the enemies of Spain wondered, and
deferred, even while they envied.
The first few days that succeeded the arrival of Columbus's
courier, were days of delight and curiosity. Answers
were sent soliciting his early presence, high honours were
proffered to him, and his name filled all mouths, as his
glory was in the heart of every true Spaniard. Orders
were issued to make the necessary outfits for a new voyage,
and little was talked of but the discovery and its consequences.
In this manner passed a month, when the
admiral arrived at Barcelona, attended by most of the
Indians he had brought with him from the islands. His
honours were of the noblest kind, the sovereigns receiving
him on a throne placed in a public hall, rising at his approach,
and insisting on his being seated himself, a distinction
of the highest nature, and usually granted only to
princes of royal blood. Here the admiral related the history
of his voyage, exhibited the curiosities he had brought
with him, and dwelt on his hopes of future benefits. When
the tale was told, all present knelt, and Te Deum was
chanted by the usual choir of the court; even Ferdinand's
and magnificent behest of heaven.
For a long time, Columbus was the mark of every eye;
nor did his honours and consideration cease, until he left
Spain, in command of the second expedition to the east, as
the voyage was then termed.
A few days previously to the arrival of the admiral at
court, Don Luis de Bobadilla suddenly appeared in Barcelona.
On ordinary occasions, the movements of one of
the rank and peculiarities of the young grandee would have
afforded a topic for the courtiers, that would not soon have
been exhausted, but the all-engrossing theme of the great
voyage afforded him a screen. His presence, however,
could not escape notice; and it was whispered, with the
usual smiles and shrugs, that he had entered the port in a
caravel, coming from the Levant; and it was one of the
received pleasantries of the hour to say, in an under tone,
that the young Conde de Llera had also made the eastern
voyage. All this gave our hero little concern, and he was
soon pursuing his ordinary life, when near the persons of
the sovereigns. The day that Columbus was received in
state, he was present in the hall, attired in the richest vestments,
and no noble of Spain did more credit to his lineage,
or his condition, than Don Luis, by his mien and carriage.
It was remarked that Isabella smiled on him, during the
pageant; but the head of more than one wary observer
was shaken, as its owner remarked how grave the queen's
favourite appeared, for an occasion so joyous; a fact that
was attributed to the unworthy pursuits of her truant
nephew. No one, that day, gazed at Luis with more delight
than Sancho, who lingered at Barcelona, to share in
the honours of his chief, and who, in virtue of his services,
was permitted to take his place among the courtiers themselves.
Not a little admiration was excited by the manner
in which he used the novel weed, called tobacco; and some
fifteen or twenty of his neighbours were nauseated by their
efforts to emulate his indulgence and satisfaction. One of
his exploits was of a character so unusual, and so well illustrates
the feeling of the hour, that it may be well to record
if in detail.
The reception was over, and Sancho was quitting the
a man apparently of forty, well attired, and of agreeable
manner, who desired the honour of his presence at a slight
entertainment, of which several had been prepared for the
admiral and his friends. Sancho, nothing loth, the delights
of distinction being yet so novel, cheerfully complied, and
he was quickly led to a room of the palace, where he found
a party of some twenty young nobles assembled to do him
honour; for happy was he that day in Barcelona who could
get even one of the meanest of Columbus's followers to accept
of his homage. No sooner did the two enter the room,
than the young Castilian lords crowded around them, covering
Sancho with protestations of admiration, and addressing
eager questions, a dozen at a time, to his companion, whom
they styled “Señor Pedro” — “Señor Martir,” and occasionally
“Señor Pedro Martir.” It is scarcely necessary
to add, that this person was the historian who has become
known to us of these latter days as “Peter Martyr,” an
Italian, to whose care and instruction Isabella had entrusted
most of the young nobles of the court. The present interview
had been got up to indulge the natural curiosity of the
youthful lords, and Sancho had been chosen for the occasion,
on the principle that when the best is denied us,
we must be content to accept information of an inferior
quality.
“Congratulate me, Señores,” cried Peter Martyr, as soon
as he could find an opportunity to speak, “since my success
surpasseth our own hopes. As for the Liguirian, himself,
and all of high condition about him, they are in the
hands of the most illustrious of Spain, for this day; but
here is a most worthy pilot, no doubt the second in authority
on board one of the caravels, who consenteth to do us
honour, and to partake of our homely cheer. I drew him
from a crowd of applicants, and have not yet had an opportunity
to enquire his name, which he is about to give us of
his own accord.”
Sancho never wanted for self-possession, and had far too
much mother-wit to be either clownish or offensively vulgar,
though the reader is not now to be told that he was
neither qualified to be an academician, nor had the most
profound notions of natural philosophy. He assumed an
in his new vocation by the thousand interrogatories he had
answered in the last month, he disposed himself to do credit
to the information of a man who had visited the Indies.
“I am called Sancho Mundo, Señores, at your service,—
sometimes Sancho of the Ship-Yard-Gate, though I would
prefer now to be called Sancho of the Indies, unless, indeed,
it should suit his Excellency Don Christopher to take that
appellation—his claim being somewhat better than mine.”
Here several protested that his claims were of the highest
order; and then followed sundry introductions to Sancho
of the Ship-Yard-Gate, of several young men of the first
families in Castile; for, though the Spaniards have not the
same mania for this species of politeness as the Americans,
the occasion was one in which native feeling got the
ascendency of conventional reserve. After this ceremony,
and the Mendozas, Guzmans, Cerdas, and Toledos, present,
felt honoured in knowing this humble seaman, the whole
party repaired to the banqueting-room, where a table was
spread that did credit to the cooks of Barcelona. During
the repast, although the curiosity of the young men made
some inroads on their breeding in this particular, no question
could induce Sancho to break in upon the duty of the
moment, for which he entertained a sort of religious veneration.
Once, when pushed a little more closely than common,
he laid down his knife and fork, and made the following
solemn reply:
“Señores,” he said, “I look upon food as a gift from
God to man, and hold it to be irreverent to converse much,
when the bounties of the table invite us to do homage to
this great dispenser. Don Christopher is of this way of
thinking, I know, and all his followers imitate their beloved
and venerated chief. As soon as I am ready to converse,
Señores Don Hidalgos, you shall be told of it, and then
God help the ignorant and silly!”
After this admonition, there remained nothing to be said
until Sancho's appetite was satisfied, when he drew a little
back from the table, and announced his readiness to proceed.
“I profess to very little learning, Señor Pedro Martir,”
he said; “but what I have seen I have seen, and that which
is known, is as well known by a mariner, as by a doctor
and expect such answers as a poor but honest man can
give.”
The learned Peter Martyr was fain to make the best of
his subject; for at that moment, any information that came
from what might be termed first hands, was greedily received;
he proceeded, therefore, to his inquiries as simply
and as directly as he had been invited to do so.
“Well, Señor,” commenced the man of learning, “we
are willing to obtain knowledge on any terms. Prithee,
tell us, at once, which of all the wonderful things that you
witnessed on this voyage, hath made the deepest impression
on your mind, and striketh you as the most remarkable!”
“I know nothing to compare with the whiffling of the
north star,” said Sancho, promptly. “That star hath
always been esteemed among us seamen, as being immovable
as the cathedral of Seville; but, in this voyage, it
hath been seen to change its place, with the inconstancy of
the winds.”
“That is indeed miraculous!” exclaimed Peter Martyr,
who scarcely knew how to take the intelligence; “perhaps
there is some mistake, Master Sancho, and you are not accustomed
to sidereal investigations.”
“Ask Don Christopher; when the phernomerthon, as
the admiral called it, was first observed, we talked the matter
over together, and came to the conclusion, that nothing
in this world was as permanent as it seemed to be. Depend
on it, Señor Don Pedro, the north star flits about like a
weathercock.”
“I shall inquire into this of the illustrious admiral; but,
next to this star, Master Sancho, what deem you most worthy
of observation? I speak now of ordinary things, leaving
science to future discussion.”
This was too grave a question to be lightly answered,
and while Sancho was cogitating the matter, the door opened
and Luis de Bobadilla entered the room, in a blaze of manly
grace and rich attire. A dozen voices uttered his name,
and Peter Martyr rose to receive him, with a manner in
which kindness of feeling was blended with reproof.
“I asked this honour, Señor Conde,” he said, “though
you have now been beyond my counsel and control some
yourself, might find a useful lesson, as well as enjoy a high
satisfaction, in listening to the wonders of an expedition as
glorious as this of Colon's. This worthy seaman, a pilot
no doubt much confided in by the admiral, hath consented
to share in our poor hospitalities on this memorable day,
and is about to give us many interesting facts and incidents
of the great adventure. Master Sancho Mundo, this is Don
Luis de Bobadilla, Conde de Llera, a grandee of high lineage,
and one that is not unknown to the seas, having often
traversed them in his own person.”
“It is quite unnecessary to tell me that, Señor Pedro,”
answered Sancho, returning Luis' gay and graceful salutation,
with profound but awkward respect, “since I see it at
a glance. His excellency hath been in the east as well as
Don Christopher and myself, though we went different
ways, and neither party went quite as far as Cathay. I
am honoured in your acquaintance, Don Luis, and shall
just say that the noble admiral will bring navigation more
in fashion than it hath been of late years. If you travel
in the neighbourhood of Moguer, I beg you will not pass
the door of Sancho Mundo without stopping to inquire if
he be within.”
“That I most cheerfully promise, worthy master,” said
Luis laughing, and taking a seat, “even though it lead me
to the Ship-Yard Gate. And now, Señor Pedro, let me not
interrupt the discourse, which I discovered was most interesting
as I entered.”
“I have been thinking of this matter, Señores,” resumed
Sancho, gravely, “and the fact that appears most curious
to me, next to the whiffling of the North Star, is the circumstance
that there are no doblas in Cipango. Gold is
not wanting, and it seemeth to me passing singular that a
people should possess gold, and not bethink them of the
convenience of striking doblas, or some similar coin.”
Peter Martyr and his young pupils laughed at this sally,
and then the subject was pushed in another form.
“Passing by this question, which belongeth rather to the
policy of States, than to natural phenomena,” continued
Peter Martyr, “what most struck you as remarkable, in
the way of human nature.”
“In that particular, Señor, I think the island of the women
may be set down as the most extraordinary of all the
phernomerthons we fell in with. I have known women
shut themselves up in convents; and men too; but never
did I hear, before this voyage, of either shutting themselves
up in islands!”
“And is this true?” inquired a dozen voices—“did you
really meet with such an island, Señor?”
“I believe we saw it at a distance, Señores, and I hold
it to be lucky that we went no nearer, for I find the gossips
of Moguer troublesome enough, without meeting a whole
island of them. Then there is the bread that grows like a
root—what think you of that, Señor Don Luis?—Is it not
a most curious dish to taste of?”
“Nay, Master Sancho, that is a question of your own
putting, and it must be one of your own answering. What
know I of the wonders of Cipango, since Candia lieth in
an opposite course. Answer these matters for thyself,
friend.”
“True, illustrious Conde, and I humbly crave your pardon.
It is, indeed, the duty of him that seeth to relate, as
it is the duty of him that seeth not to believe. I hope all
here will perform their several duties.”
“Do these Indians eat flesh as remarkable as their
bread?” inquired a Cerda.
“That do they, noble sir, seeing that they eat each other.
Neither I nor Don Christopher, was invited to any of their
feasts of this sort; for, I suppose, they were well convinced
we would not go; but we had much information touching
them, and by the nearest calculation I could make, the consumption
of men in the island of Bohio, must be about
equal to that of beeves in Spain.”
The speaker was interrupted by twenty exclamations of
disgust, and Peter Martyr shook his head like one who distrusted
the truth of the account. Still, as he had not expected
any very profound philosophy, or deep learning in
one of Sancho's character, he pursued the conversation.
“Know you any thing of the rare birds the admiral
exhibited to their Highnesses to-day?” he asked.
“Señor, I am well acquainted with several, more particularly
with the parrots. They are sensible birds, and I
to me by many here, in Barcelona, to their perfect satisfaction.”
“Thou art a wag, I see, Señor Sancho, and lovest thy
joke,” answered the man of learning, with a smile. “Give
way to thy fancy, and if thou canst not improve us with
thy science, at least amuse us with thy conceits.”
“San Pedro knows that I would do any thing to oblige
you, Señores; but I was born with such a love of truth in
my heart, that I know not how to embellish. What I see I
believe, and having been in the Indies, I cannot shut my
eyes to their wonders. There was the sea of weeds, which
was no every-day miracle, since I make no doubt that the
devils piled all these plants on the water to prevent us from
carrying the cross to the poor heathens who dwell on the
other side of them. We got through that sea more by our
prayers, than by means of the winds.”
The young men looked at Peter Martyr, to ascertain how
he received this theory, and Peter Martyr, if tinctured with
the superstition of the age, was not disposed to swallow all
that it pleased Sancho to assert, even though the latter had
made a voyage to the Indies.
“Since you manifest so much curiosity, Señores, on the
subject of Colon, now admiral of the Ocean Sea, by their
Highnesses' honourable appointment, I will, in a measure,
relieve your minds on the subject, by recounting what I
know,” said Luis, speaking calmly, but with dignity. “Ye
know that I was much with Don Christopher before he
sailed, and that I had some little connexion with bringing
him back to Santa Fé, even when he had left the place, as
was supposed for the last time. This intimacy hath been
renewed since the arrival of the Great Genoese at Barcelona,
and hours have we passed together in private, discoursing
on the events of the last few months. What I
have thus learned I am ready to impart, if ye will do me
the grace to listen.”
The whole company giving an eager assent, Luis now
commenced a general narrative of the voyage, detailing all
the leading circumstances of interest, and giving the reasons
that were most in favour at the time, concerning the
different phenomena that had perplexed the adventurers.
from island to island, and dilating on their productions,
imaginary and real. Much that he related, proceeded from
the misconceptions of the admiral, and misinterpretations
of the signs and language of the Indians, as a matter of
course; but it was all told clearly, in elegant if not in eloquent
language, and with a singular air of truth. In short,
our hero palmed upon his audience the results of his own
observation, as the narrative of the admiral, and more than
once was he interrupted by bursts of admiration at the
vividness and graphic beauties of his descriptions. Even
Sancho listened with delight, and when the young man
concluded, he rose from his chair, and exclaimed heartily;—
“Señores, you may take all this, as so much gospel!
Had the noble Señor witnessed himself, that which he hath
so well described, it could not have been truer, and I look
on myself to be particularly fortunate to have heard this
history of the voyage, which henceforth shall be my history,
word for word; for as my patron saint shall remember
me, nought else will I tell to the gossips of Moguer,
when I get back to that blessed town of my childhood.”
Sancho's influence was much impaired by the effects of
Luis's narrative, which Peter Martyr pronounced to be one
that would have done credit to a scholar who had accompanied
the expedition. A few appeals were made to the
old seaman, to see if he would corroborate the statements
he had just heard, but his protestations became so much the
louder in behalf of the accuracy of the account.
It was wonderful how much reputation the Conde de
Llera obtained by this little deception. To be able to repeat,
with accuracy and effect, language that was supposed to
have fallen from the lips of Columbus, was a sort of illustration;
and Peter Martyr, who justly enjoyed a high reputation
for intelligence, was heard sounding the praises of
our hero in all places, his young pupils echoing his words
with the ardour and imitation of youth! Such, indeed, was
the vast reputation obtained by the Genoese, that one gained
a species of reflected renown by being thought to live in his
confidence, and a thousand follies of the Count of Llera,
real or imaginary, were forgotten in the fact that the admiral
had deemed him worthy of being the repository of
was seen to be much in the company of Don Christopher,
the world was very willing to give the young man
credit for qualities that, by some unexplained circumstance,
had hitherto escaped its notice. In this manner did Luis
de Bobadilla reap some advantages, of a public character,
from his resolution and enterprise, although vastly less than
would have attended an open admission of all that occurred.
How far, and in what manner, these qualities availed him
in his suit with Mercedes, will appear in our subsequent
pages.
| CHAPTER XI. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay | |