Coming northward, toward the point whither we were then tending, and rounding Cape Catoche into the Gulf of Mexico, you would behold the true Eldorado which they all sought for, and which the brave Cortes afterwards found—the golden mountains and golden cities of Anahuac. Northward still, some two hundred leagues, the "Father of rivers" pours his mighty current into the bosom of the Gulf, after watering and draining the richest and broadest valleys in the world, and linking together, by its various and extended branches, the mighty fraternity of republics, spread over the vast territories of the North.
I pity the man, whoever he may be, and of whatever nation, who can visit these islands, or traverse these seas, for the first time, without feeling as if he were treading on enchanted ground. Every country, every sea has its peculiar history, and its peculiar associations. There is much to interest the heart, and inflame the imagination in the dark legends of the Indian archipelago—in the classic memories and time-hallowed monuments of the "Isles of Greece," and of the shores and bays, the mountains and streams of all the countries bordering on the Mediterranean—in the rock-bound coast of the North Sea—in the basaltic columns and gigantic caverns of the Emerald Isle;—but they do not, in my view, either or all of them, surpass, in the deep interest and moral grandeur of the associations they awaken, the shores that then surrounded me—the American Isthmus, and the American archipelago.
The American archipelago!—the Mediterranean of the Western World, with its beautiful clusters of magnificent islands—why not call it, as Bradford long ago suggested, The Columbian Sea? Surely, if the Florentine merchant has been permitted to rob the great Genoese discoverer of the honor of conferring his own illustrious name upon the two vast continents, which his genius and perseverance brought to light, while the whole world has quietly sanctioned the larceny—we, who know the equity of his claims, and feel how shamefully he has been abused, might at least do him the lardy justice to affix his name, in perpetuo, to this sea, which, by universal acknowledgment, he was the first to traverse and explore—the scene of his glorious triumph over the narrow and ignorant prejudices of his day, as well as of his romantic adventures, toils and sufferings.
What must have been the emotions of Columbus when he first traversed these waters, and beheld these lovely islands! For, even now, with the mind already prepared by the full and elaborate descriptions of geographers and travellers, they are beheld by the voyager, for the first time, with sensations of surprise and delight. The objects of wonder with which he and his crew were surrounded—the variation of the compass, the regularity of the winds, and other phenomena, of the existence of which they could not possibly have been apprised, must have been truly exciting. Think of his astonishment on landing, to find myriads of people, disposed to regard him and his adventurous crew, as beings of a superior order, whom they were almost ready to adore. And then, pray that the veil of oblivion may be thrown over the fiendish requital which, in after years, succeeded this hospitable reception.
It is any thing but agreeable to a generous heart, to witness or contemplate the strivings of a noble mind, with the cares and anxieties of life, having some magnificent project in view, but hindered from carrying it forward, by the stern demand of a starving household, or the want of that golden lever, which, with or without a place to stand upon, has power to move the world. With but few exceptions, it has ever been the case, that men of genius have struggled with adversity,—
Have felt the influence of malignant star,
And waged with fortune an eternal war.
Fortune seldom smiles upon the sons of science. Rarely, indeed, does she condescend to become the companion of genius. It was not until Columbus had touched the master passion of his royal patrons, that he could induce them to grant him assistance. When he had convinced the king of the great pecuniary advantage to be derived to the crown from his enterprise, and the queen of the vast accessions to the holy church, in bringing new territories under her sway, and converting nations of heathen to the Christian faith,—then, and not till then, did they consent to favor his expedition. Absorbed with their one idea of planting the standards of Castile and of the Cross on the marble palaces of the Alhambra, they had no time to consider, no treasure to sustain, such magnificent schemes of discovery. Should Columbus be succored, when Cervantes, suffered and hungered for bread? Was it not the cold treatment Cervantes received, that wrung from his subdued spirit the humiliating complaint, that "the greatest advantage which princes possess above other men, is that of being attended by servants as great as themselves?" But why should we seek out, dwell upon, and hold up to the execration of the world, these instances of royal littleness, injustice, and ingratitude, when the world is, and always has been, full of such exhibitions of human nature? Was not Hylander compelled to sell his notes on Dion Casseus for a dinner? Did not Camoens, the solitary pride of Portugal,—he who after his death was honored by the appellation of "the great,"—beg for bread? Has not a Tasso from the depths of his poverty, besought his cat to assist him with the lustre of her eyes, that he might pen his immortal verse? Yes,—and one simple story would tell the fate of a Homer, Ariosto, Dryden, Spenser, Le Sage, Milton, Sydenham, and a mighty host of others, who, after having spent their lives in the cause of letters, and of human advancement and liberty, were neglected by their countrymen, and suffered to die in obscurity, if not in poverty and want!
The Columbian Sea! divided by the projecting peninsulas of Yucatan and Florida, and the far-stretching walls of Cuba and Hispaniola, into two great sections, the Caribbean Sea, and the Gulf of Mexico—how full of interest, historical and romantic, how curious, how wonderful in many of the phenomena it exhibits! Here is the inexhaustible fountain head of that inexplicable mystery of nature, the Gulf Stream, which, without any visible adequate supply, throws its mighty current of calid water, thousands of miles across the cold Atlantic. Here European civilization, and European depotism first planted its foot in the elysian fields of the west. Here the dreadful work of subjugation, and extermination commenced a work, which, in three brief centuries, under the banners, too, of the Prince of Peace, and in the name of Christianity, has blotted from the face of the earth a mighty family of populous nations, some of them far advanced in civilization and refinement, leaving only here and there a scattered and almost exhausted tribe, bending under the yoke of slavery, or flying before the continual encroachments of the white man.
It is difficult to say to which quarter of this sea one should turn, in order to gather up the incidents and associations, which shall most deeply touch the heart, and excite the imagination. On the east, these beautiful, luxuriant islands, the first seen and visited, where the great, the noble, the generous-hearted discoverer was received as a god by the simple and hospitable natives, and afterwards calumniated, oppressed, deserted by his friends, and left by his envious foes to pine a whole year on the shores of Jamaica, with no shelter but the wreck of his last vessel—where too he was shamefully imprisoned, and then sent home in chains, deprived of his honors and his rights. On the west, the golden regions of Mexico, where the Montezumas reigned with a degree of splendor rivalling the most brilliant dynasties of the Old World—where civilization, and the arts of refinement, were enjoyed to a degree unknown to many of the most powerful nations of antiquity—where pyramids, temples, and palaces, whose extent and magnificence might have vied with those of Egypt and Syria, still remain in ruins to attest the departed glory of the Aztec races—and where the marvellous, the scarcely credible adventures of Cortes, and his little hand of brave invaders, brought desolation and wo on all that sunny region. On the south, the great continent, the scene of similar adventures—the theatre of oppression, of civil discord, of revolution, of a perpetual struggle for power, but, it may be hoped, ere long of republican liberty. On the north—what shall I say—the fairest and best portion of the wide earth—the home of liberty—the home of our fathers—in a word, which contains a depth of meaning that belongs to no other in any language—home!
How wonderfully have these shores changed hands and masters, since the day when Columbus gave them all to Spain. What has she now left? The entire continent of South America, the golden regions of the Isthmus, the broad savannahs of Florida, and the boundless prairies of the great west, have all been wrested from her iron and oppressive rule. And, of all that rich cluster of islands, that lie along the eastern boundary of this great sea—only Cuba and Porto Rico now acknowledge her sway. How bitterly the wrongs she inflicted upon the hapless natives of these fair lands, have recoiled upon her own head, and upon the heads of all her representatives in the New World. Scarcely for one moment have they held any of their ill-gotten possessions in peace. Revolt and revolution have swept over them in quick succession, like the Sirocco of the desert, burying millions of merciless oppressors in the same graves with the millions of the oppressed. Anarchy, confusion, bloodshed, and civil discord and commotion, have been the lot of their inheritance. And even to this day, except in the islands above named, wherever the Spanish race remains in the ascendancy, the seat of its power is, as it were, the crater of a volcano, where society, no less than the earth, heaves and groans and trembles with the throes of inward convulsion. Look yonder, as we near the shores of Mexico. Clouds of dust and smoke—the thunders of artillery, the falling of successive dynasties, mingle with the terrible din of the earthquake, and the sulphureous belchings of subterraneous fires, and send up their angry shouts, and voices of wailing to the skies, till the whole civilized world is disturbed by their incessant broils. How long shall it be? When shall this land have rest? When shall the curse of war, which has been laid upon it for so many centuries, be revoked? Heaven speed the day.