Reminiscences of Sixty Years in Public Affairs, Vol. 2

by George S. Boutwell

XLIV SPEECH ON COLUMBUS

DELIVERED AT GROTON, MASS., OCTOBER 21, 1892

We celebrate this day as the anniversary of the discovery of the
American continent.

"The hand that rounded Peter's dome.
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome,
Wrought in a sad sincerity;
Himself from God he could not free;
He builded better than he knew."

Of these lines of Emerson, the last three are as true of Columbus, as of

"The hand that rounded Peter's dome,
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome,"

for he, too,

"Wrought in a sad sincerity;
Himself from God he could not free;
He builded better than he knew."

And shall we therefore say that he is not worthy of praise, of tribute, of memorials, of anniversary days, of centennial years, of national and international gatherings and exhibitions, that in some degree mankind may illustrate and dignify, if they will, the events that have followed the opening of a new world to our advanced and advancing civilization?

In great deeds, in great events, in great names, there is a sort of immortality, an innate capacity for living, a tendency to growth, to expansion, and thus what was but of little comment in the beginning is seen, often after the lapse of years, possibly only after the lapse of centuries, to have been freighted with consequences whose value can only be measured by the yearly additions to the sum of human happiness.

Franklin's experiments in electricity were followed at once by the common lightning-rod, but a century passed before the electrical power was utilized, and made subservient, in some degree, to the control of men.

Every decade of three centuries has added to the greatness of that one immortal name in the literature of the whole English speaking race. The security for the world that the name of Shakespeare and the writings of Shakespeare cannot die may be found in the selfishness, the intelligent selfishness of mankind, which will struggle constantly to preserve and to magnify a possession which if once lost, could never be regained.

After four centuries of delay we have come to realize, with some degree of accuracy, the magnitude of the event called the Discovery of America. Identified with that event, and as its author, is the man Columbus. Involved in controversies while living, the object of the base passions of envy, hatred and jealousy, consigned finally to chains and to prison, and in death ignorant of the magnitude of the discovery that he had made, there seemed but slight basis for the conjecture that his name was destined to become the one immortal name in the annals of modern Italy and Spain.

As if accident and fate and the paltry ambitions of men had combined to rob Columbus of his just title to fame, the name of the double continent that he discovered was given to another. To that other the name remains, but the continent itself has become the continent of Columbus. In connection with the event no other name is known, and so it will ever be in all the centuries of the future.

In these years we are inaugurating a series of centennial anniversary celebrations in honor of Columbus, and in testimony of the importance of the discovery that he made. This we do as the greatest of the states that have arisen on the continent that he discovered, and I delay what I have to say of Columbus and of the discovery that I may express my regret and the reasons for my regret, that the celebration and the ceremonies have not been made distinctively and exclusively national. In this I do not disparage, on the other hand I exalt, the public spirit, the capacity for large undertakings, the will and the courage of the city and the citizens of Chicago in assuming burdens and responsibilities from which any other city on this continent would have shrunk.

My point is this: If the people and Government of the United States were of the opinion that the discovery of a continent—a continent in which one of the great governments of the world has found an abiding place—was worthy of a centennial celebration, then the conduct of the celebration ought not to have been left to the care of any community less than the whole. Nor is it an unworthy thought that something of dignity would have been added to the celebration if the nations of the earth could have been invited to the capital which bears the name of the discoverer of the continent and the founder of the Republic.

There are occasions which confer greatness upon an orator. Such are revolutionary periods, the overthrow of states, radical changes in a long-settled public policy, struggles for power, empire, dominion. These and kindred exigencies in the affairs of men and states, seem to create, or at least to furnish opportunity and scope for, statesmen, orators, poets and soldiers.

This peaceful ceremony in peaceful times, of which we now speak, will not produce orators like Patrick Henry and James Otis at the opening of our Revolutionary struggle, like Mirabeau in France, or Cicero in Rome, pleading for a dying republic, or Demosthenes in Athens contending hopelessly against the domination of one supreme will.

An orator for this occasion was not to have been waited for, he was to have been sought out and found if possible.

If Webster were living and in the fullness of his powers, the country might have looked to him for an oration that would have so linked itself with the anniversary that it would have been recognized in every succeeding centennial observance.

Turning from this thought, which at best, can only serve as a standard to which our hopes aspire, I venture the remark, that there is not one of our countrymen who, by the studies of his life, by the philosophical qualities of his mind, by the possession in some large measure of that Miltonian power of imagination which Webster exhibited, is qualified for the supreme task which I have thus imperfectly outlined.

For one day the rumor was voiced that Castelar of Spain had been invited to deliver the oration at the more formal opening of the exhibition in May next. That rumor has not been affirmed nor denied, but from the delay, we cannot hope that its verification is now possible.

Historical knowledge, due to long and laborious studies, and the spirit of historical inquiry, are not often found in the same person, combined with argumentative power and the quality of imagination stimulated by an emotional nature. From what we know of Emilio Castelar of Spain, it may be said that he possesses this rare combination in a degree beyond any other living man.

In the year 1856 when he was only twenty-four years of age, he was appointed, after a competitive contest, to the chair of philosophy and history in the University of Madrid. During his professorship, in addition to other work, he delivered lectures on the history of civilization.

The political disturbances, in which as a republican, he had taken an active part, led to his exile for four years, but upon his return to Spain he resumed his place in the University. In 1873 he was prime minister during the brief existence of the republic. Of his published works, the best known in this country is the volume entitled "Old Rome and New Italy." At present he is a member of the Cortes, where he gives support to the Government in its measures of administration without yielding his political principles or indorsing the monarchical system. If this country were to pass beyond its own limits in the selection of an orator, then, without question Spain has the first, and indeed, the only claim to consideration. Spain furnished the means for the expedition and the world is indebted to her enlightened patronage for the discovery. It may be assumed, reasonably, that Castelar would have brought from the archives of Spain fresh information in regard to the motives of Ferdinand and Isabella, trustworthy statements as to the character and conduct of Pinzon, the ally of Columbus, and at the end he might have been able to prove or disprove the theory that Columbus had knowledge of the existence of this continent, or that he had or had not reasons for believing that land in the west had been visited by Scandinavian voyagers in the tenth century.

As I pass to some more direct observations upon Columbus and the voyage of 1492, and to the expression of some thoughts as to the future of the country, I wish to say that I limit my criticism to our representative men, whose estimate of the importance of the anniversary was quite inadequate. They failed to see its connection with the past, its relations to what now is, and more important than all else they failed to realize that this celebration is the first of a long line of centennial celebrations, each one of which will mark the close of one epoch, and the beginning of another.

I cannot imagine that in a hundred years this anniversary, in its organization and conduct, will be thought worthy of imitation. Let us imagine, or rather indulge the hope that then all the States of the south and the north, from the Arctic Seas to Patagonia, will be united in a national and international celebration in recognition of an event that has increased twofold the possibilities, comfort and happiness of the human race.

Passing from these criticisms, at once and finally, it is yet true that in this centennial celebration the two Americas, Southern Europe and the Catholic churches throughout the world are united as one people, and for the moment differences in religion and diversities of race are forgotten. Italy was the birth-place of Columbus; Spain, after long years of doubt and vexatious delays lent its patronage to the scheme of the "adventurer" as he was called; and the church, of which Columbus was a devoted, and perhaps a devout disciple, bestowed its blessing upon those who staked their lives or their fortunes in the undertaking. It is not probable that Columbus looked to that posthumous fame of which he is now the subject. His vision and his hopes extended not beyond the possession of new lands where he might rule as a potentate and enjoy power; where Spain might found an empire, and where the church might establish its authority over millions of new converts. Spain gained new empires, and maintained her rule over them for three centuries and more; the church enlarged its power by the acquisition of half a continent, in which its ecclesiastical authority remains, even to the close of the nineteenth century. For a moment, and but for a moment in the annals of time, Columbus was permitted to realize the dream of his life. After a brief period, however, instead of place, power, gratitude, wealth, he was subjected to chains, and consigned to prison. Of the three great parties to the undertaking, Columbus alone, seemed to have been unsuccessful, but at the end of four centuries he reappears as the one personage to whom the gratitude of mankind is due for the discovery of the new world. Nor do we enter into any inquiry as to the manner of man that Columbus was on the moral side of his character. We know that he was an enthusiast, that he was richly endowed with the practical virtues of patience, of perseverance, of continuing fortitude under difficulties, and we know that neither Spain, nor the Church, nor Pinzon the ship-builder and capitalist, nor all of them together would have made the discovery when it was made. To Columbus they were essential, but without Columbus they were nothing.

To the wide domain of history may be left the inquiry as to the truth of his visit to Iceland in the preceding decade, his knowledge of the expeditions of the Scandinavian voyagers to Greenland and the coasts of New England in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and his theories or beliefs concerning the spherical figure of the earth.

Whatever might have happened previous to the voyage from Palos, and whatever might have been the extent of Columbus' knowledge, the discovery of America for the purposes of settlement and civilization, was made by Columbus himself at eight o'clock in the evening of October 11, O. S., when he saw the shimmer of fire on the Island of San Salvador. That fact being established, the fact of the existence of land near by was established also. The sight of land at three o'clock next morning was not the discovery; it was evidence only of the reality of the discovery made by Columbus the evening before.

In these four hundred years the empires that Spain founded in the New World have slipped from her grasp; the church has lost its temporal power, but the fame of Columbus has spread more and more widely and his claims to the gratitude of mankind have been recognized more generally.

At the end of each coming century, and for many centuries, no one can foresay how many, millions on millions in the Americas and in Europe will unite in rendering tribute of praise to the enthusiast and adventurer whose limited ambitions for himself were never realized, but who opened to mankind the opportunity to found states freed from the domination of the church and churches freed from the domination of the state.

We do not deceive ourselves, when we claim for the United States the first place among the states on this continent. We are the first of American states in population, in wealth, in our system of public instruction, in our means of professional and technical education, in the application of science to the practical purposes of life, and finally, in experience and success in the business of government.

It should not be forgotten by any of us, nor should the fact be overlooked or neglected by the young that these results have been gained by the labors and sacrifices of our ancestors, and we should realize that the task of preserving what has been won, is the task that is imposed upon the generations as they succeed each other in the great drama of national life. Vain and useless are all conjectures as to the future. The coming century must bring great changes—equal, possibly, to those that have occurred since 1792. At that time our territory did not extend beyond the Mississippi River, our population was hardly four million, our national revenues were less than four million dollars annually, manufacturing industries had not gained a footing, for agricultural products there was no market, the trade in slaves from Africa was guaranteed in the Constitution, the thirteen States had not outgrown the disintegrating influence of the Confederation, the Post-Office Department was not organized, and the National Government was not respected for its power, justice or beneficence, of which the mass of people knew nothing.

In this century our territory has been enlarged fourfold, our population is eighteen times as great as it was in 1792, our revenues have been multiplied by a hundred, and the convertible wealth of the people has been increased in a greater ratio even. The railway, the telegraphic, the telephonic systems have been created. The dream of Shakespeare has been realized—we have put a girdle round about the Earth in forty minutes.

More than all else, and as the culmination of all else, we have demonstrated the practicability of a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. All this has been made possible by and through a system of universal public education—a system which taxes the whole people, and educates the whole people in good learning, and in the cardinal virtues which adorn, dignify and elevate the individual man and furnish the only security for progressive, successful, illustrious national life.

This is the inheritance to which the generations before us are born. A great inheritance—a great inheritance of opportunity, a great inheritance of power, a great inheritance of responsibility, from which the coming generations are not to shrink.