The Son of Columbus

by Molly Elliot Seawell

Then the little Fernando began to jump about and dance, shouting:

“That is my father’s ship!”

Diego stood as if turned to stone, his eyes fixed upon the advancing vessel. It could not be distinguished from any other vessel of its class; but when it reached the bar of Saltes it came about, for the water was low on the bar. And far down the river Diego saw, as did Don Felipe and little Fernando, the great Gonfalon, the crimson and yellow standard of Spain, flung to the breeze, which blew it out bravely so that all could see the sign of glory. Then, over the crystal water, came a single loud gun, the signal for a pilot to come aboard.

It was as if the breaking out of the great standard and the boom of the solitary gun waked the whole of Andalusia. Instantly the entire population of Palos, of Moguer, of Huelva, and the country-side seemed rushing to the seashore and watching in the glorious sunrise the banner of Spain flying from the caravel. It was all so rapid that Diego was stunned by it, the excited crowds of people, the sudden presence of Juan Perez and De Quintanilla, the surging multitudes cheering, weeping, laughing, the women shrieking with joy and falling into each other’s arms, the men mad with excitement, every pilot of Palos running for his boat to have the honor of bringing the caravel up the river. Men and women whose names Diego did not know embraced him, and would have shoved him into a boat to go to meet his father; but Diego, although his soul was in a tumult, retained his outward calmness. He would meet his father on Spanish soil and would see that glorious landing. The boats, some under sail and others with rowers, sped down the river and swarmed about the caravel; but none was allowed to board her except the pilot, Sebastian Rodriguez, one of the Admiral’s earliest and most steadfast friends. To Rodriguez was given the honor of bringing the caravel over the bar. The cheers and cries of the people echoed down the river, and the wind brought back the shouts from the boats surrounding the immortal ship. The tide came in slowly, and it was not until high noon that Rodriguez was able to take the vessel over the bar. It was a wait of six hours in the clear March sunshine; but to the assembled multitudes it seemed a mere fragment of time. Every hour added to the cheering and excited crowds that thronged the shore. The church bells over the whole district rang joyously, salutes were fired, and bands of musicians played and sang religious and patriotic hymns. Diego, holding his little brother by the hand, and with Don Felipe next him, watched the caravel as it came slowly up the river in the midst of a universal joy and applause that echoed to the deep-blue sky above them. On the poop, under the royal standard, stood the Admiral splendidly dressed in crimson, his attitude calm and unmoved, but full of that sublime dignity which had ever marked him. The boat of the pilot Rodriguez, which was towing astern, was brought alongside and the Admiral, with Rodriguez and the Queen’s notary, came over the side and were pulled to the shore.

The crowd fell back, leaving the sons of Columbus to meet him first. A profound and solemn silence fell upon them as the Admiral, when his foot touched Spanish earth, kneeled down and kissed the ground and gave thanks to God. The vast multitude followed his example, Diego and the little Fernando being the first to kneel. Then, rising, the Admiral took his sons in his arms and kissed and blessed them. Next he embraced the Prior, Juan Perez, and De Quintanilla. Both were strong men; but they wept freely. The Admiral did not forget Don Felipe.

The men from the Niña had poured ashore, and were greeted with tears and cries and wild embraces as men returning from the dead. A procession was rapidly formed, headed by the mayor and the officials of the town of Palos and the ecclesiastics, to escort Columbus and his men to the Church of St. George, where a solemn Te Deum was to be sung. The procession was preceded by a beautiful youth in a red cassock and a white surplice bearing a great glittering cross. He was followed by the ecclesiastics in their robes and by the officials. Then came the Admiral holding with his right hand Diego and with his left the little Fernando, and escorted by Alonzo de Quintanilla, the Queen’s representative, on one side, and Juan Perez on the other. Behind them stretched thousands of persons, only a few of whom could get into the little church. The multitudes crowding about it fell on their knees and joined in the singing of the solemn hymn of thanks. A supernatural joy filled every heart; in that of the Admiral the humble thanksgiving of a Christian took precedence of the stupendous triumph of the greatest discovery the world had ever known.

A scant forty-eight hours was allowed Diego before beginning the return journey to Barcelona. It was the shortest two days Diego had ever known. Apart from the deep and penetrating joy of seeing his father and the splendid glow of pride which naturally filled Diego’s heart, he, like Don Felipe, was consumed with curiosity concerning the strange new lands to the west, the men of a race never before seen in Europe, whom the Admiral had brought back, the specimens of birds, plants, minerals, and animals hitherto unknown. But there was little time for that. The whole of Spain seemed roused in a single day, and the Admiral was overwhelmed with throngs of great people coming and sending to him and the enthusiasm of vast numbers of people half crazed with joy and pride in the man whom they had opposed and thwarted and whose sublime purpose they had tried in every way to defeat. The great and magnanimous soul of the Admiral could easily ignore the past; he made no reproaches and bore his stupendous honors with the same dignity he had borne contumely, neglect, and treachery.

At the end of the second day couriers traveling at full speed by night and by day, and with frequent relays of horses, brought the Admiral a letter from the sovereigns. It was addressed to “Don Christobal de Colon, our Admiral of the Ocean Seas, Viceroy and Captain-General of all Lands to the Westward.” In it, after expressions of fervent gratitude the King and the Queen desired the Admiral to take time to refresh himself before attending the sovereigns, who would await at Barcelona his convenience.

On the second night after the arrival of the Admiral, he had his first long conversation with Diego, who was leaving at daybreak with Don Tomaso and Don Felipe. The Admiral questioned Diego closely as to his life at court. Diego was able to answer satisfactorily. His conduct had not been perfect, but it was not stained by a single act of baseness. At saying good night, the Admiral said: