The Son of Columbus

by Molly Elliot Seawell

The May day was bright and beautiful, and all were in high spirits, even the Admiral’s grave face showing a new animation, and his piercing eyes radiated light. As for Diego and Don Felipe, they could scarcely forbear caroling aloud as they trotted along on their spirited horses in the golden morning. The little Fernando, whom Brother Lawrence held before him upon his sturdy mule, laughed, talked, and sung incessantly without being checked by any one. Diego’s confidence that his father would return triumphant became more than ever a fixed conviction. The thought of the separation gave him pain; but the pain was compensated by the anticipation of the glory that awaited the Admiral’s return.

Diego had hung at his saddle-bow the little manuscript volume of the poems of Petrarca, which had been given him by Doña Christina. As he rode along he read the soft lines to Don Felipe, who did not understand Italian so well as Diego, whose native tongue it was. Diego became so absorbed in his reading that he let the reins lie upon his horse’s neck, while Don Felipe, equally careless, leaned over, taking one foot out of the stirrup in order to look at the page Diego was reading. Suddenly, Don Felipe’s horse stepped into a deep mud-puddle in the road and came down on his knees. The next thing Don Felipe knew he was floundering in the puddle. Meanwhile, Diego’s horse made a spring to cross the puddle, and Diego, quite unprepared for it, slipped off and went down, even more ignominiously than Don Felipe, on his back with his heels in the air. In an instant both scrambled to their feet, their faces scarlet with mortification, but so covered with mud that their color was unknown. The horses stood still, as if pitying them, and the whole party, led by the Daredevil Knight, burst into laughter at their predicament. Their chagrin was increased by the Daredevil Knight sarcastically advising them to change their horses for old steady-going mules such as ladies rode in traveling. In vain Diego and Don Felipe strove to get the mud off their faces, out of their hair, and from their clothes. Their bath in the mud-puddle by no means improved their appearance. They mounted and rode on, therefore, unable to reply to the jokes and good-natured taunts of the rest of the party. They were exceedingly careful after that and were not again unhorsed, nor did Diego again tie the book of his favorite poet to his saddle-bow.

Every moment of the journey was enjoyed, however, by the two youths, in spite of their misadventure in the mud-puddle. They liked the rapid travel in the soft May air, and at night, instead of sleeping at the inns like their elders, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and cloaks and slept in the open under the palpitating stars. They talked of many things in those two quiet nights spent on the road. They were studying astronomy, and they pictured to themselves the ship of the Admiral ploughing its way along into the wide, unknown ocean, and guided by the planets in their courses. They mutually resolved that when the Admiral went upon his second voyage they would take no denial and would go with him.

At last, at nightfall on a warm May evening, they reached La Rabida. Once more Diego and Don Felipe slept in the little tower room and recalled, before they slept, the great and exciting events which had happened since they left that quiet place seven months back. In the morning they waked early, because on that day at ten o’clock proclamation was to be made from the steps of the Church of St. George in Palos of the commands of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella concerning the voyage.

By sunrise the whole of Palos, of the neighboring towns of Moguer and Huelva, and the country-side with its towns and villages, was astir, palpitating with excitement. For them the voyage meant much. Each family feared and dreaded that some of the adventurous spirits among them would want to go upon the expedition. It was expected that the ships would be found and manned and made ready to sail within a fortnight.

The seafaring people of the Andalusian coast were brave and adventurous; but the proposed voyage appalled them. Never in the history of the world had anything been known like it. The mariners could face ordinary and even extreme danger: but to set forth into the boundless wastes of unknown seas; to meet mysterious dangers, perhaps to be engulfed in great abysses; or to sail on and on until they died of thirst and starvation; to find land, it might be, peopled with savages who would murder them on landing; to encounter frightful monsters on land and sea which might devour them—these and many other horrors terrified the souls of the bravest sailors of the time. Only once in a great period of time a man is born with the stupendous courage of Christopher Columbus.

The whole population of the region had begun pouring into Palos very early in the morning. All classes were represented—mariners and peasants, cavaliers on horseback, great nobles with their retinues, merchants and ecclesiastics on mule-back—all eager to hear the royal proclamation. It was known that the sovereigns had given orders to impress men and ships, and no man knew whether he or some of his family might not be impressed for the voyage or be compelled to furnish the ships or any part of their equipment.

At half-past nine in the brilliant May morning the cavalcade was to set forth from La Rabida; but long before that Diego and Don Felipe, with Brother Lawrence carrying the little Fernando, had started for Palos and had taken their places on the porch of the little stone Church of St. George. Diego held the little Fernando’s hand with a feeling in his heart that for the first time he was to take his father’s place toward the little lad.

The vast and excited multitudes that thronged about the church and crowded all the streets leading to it were in themselves a great picture.