The Son of Columbus

by Molly Elliot Seawell

Although it was still March, and the Admiral was not expected to arrive at Barcelona until the middle of April, preparations for his reception were already begun. As the magnitude of the discovery of a new world grew more apparent the people seemed to be more and more dazzled by the great event. It not only meant an incalculable increase of power, territory, and wealth for Spain, but it was of great import to science and learning of all sorts. Geography had to be reconstructed, and astronomy would make a tremendous advance. The strange phenomenon of the variation of the compass excited all Europe, and the discovery of the trade-winds by the Admiral was of enormous benefit to commerce. It was indeed the revelation of a new and stupendous world to the Old World.

There were two persons, however, who, without forgetting the vast material and scientific value of the discovery, fixed their minds upon a nobler ideal, the taking to the New World the Christian religion and civilization. These two were the Admiral himself and the great Queen Isabella. Daily letters were exchanged between these two lofty and kindred spirits, who could rise above the consideration of earthly grandeur, and who cherished splendid dreams of the reclamation and civilization of the unknown lands.

When it became known that the Admiral was to be received at Barcelona by their Majesties about the middle of April, all Spain, Italy, and France were aroused, for the event had so stirred men’s minds that it was communicated with unheard-of rapidity; even far-off England and Germany were thrilled to the centre. The King and the Queen, to do honor to the Admiral, determined to receive him in full sight of the people instead of in the palace. A huge temporary saloon open to the air was built in the great Plaza opposite the Cathedral. It was carpeted with magnificent Moorish carpets and blazed with cloth of gold and gorgeous tapestries brought from the Spanish palaces. At the end a magnificent throne was erected with three chairs upon it, two throne chairs and one for the Admiral, who was to receive an honor never before granted to any but reigning sovereigns, to sit upon the throne with the King and the Queen. A grand Te Deum was to be sung, and all the greatest singers in Spain flocked to Barcelona that they might take part in the music. The streets became so crowded that it was difficult to make progress, and the country round about was converted into a camp by a tented army of travelers who could get no accommodations in the city.

Through it all Diego felt as if he were in a splendid dream. His heart swelled with joy; his prayers were all thanksgivings; but his mind remained steady and his conduct modest. To have shown a haughty and vainglorious spirit he felt would degrade him more than anything else in the world. His own sound sense and his father’s counsels prevented him from being unbalanced by the flatterers who surrounded him. Those who had jeered at him as being an upstart and a foreigner were now the ones who paid him court, as if he were a man grown, who could not meet him without linking their arms in his, and who embarrassed him by the urgency of their invitations to banquets and feasts and jousts at arms and in the tilt-yard. Diego in his heart scornfully contrasted them with those of his friends like Don Felipe and the other pages who had treated him always with friendliness; with the Daredevil Knight, who had made no difference between the son of the Genoese captain and Don Felipe, heir to the honors of the house of Langara y Gama; of Doña Christina, who had shown him unvarying sweetness; and Doña Luisita, whose soft eyes had always smiled on him from the night he had first seen her, in her white gown and veil, standing in the archway of the castle of Langara, the light from the silvery lamp falling upon her slender white figure. But above all was the great Queen unchanged, because she had ever been the soul of gentleness and kindness to the motherless Diego.

It was a time of brilliant happiness for all, but to the son of the great Admiral it was a time of joy deeper than he had ever dreamed.

Four days before the arrival of the Admiral, who was making his way amid acclamations from Cordova to Barcelona, Juan Perez, the Prior of La Rabida, arrived with Fray Piña and Brother Lawrence, bringing the little Fernando. It was the wish of the Admiral that both of his sons and his tried and true friends should be present in his hour of unprecedented triumph. Lodgings were prepared in the palace for the party from La Rabida. The palace was already crowded with members of the royal family and their attendants. The pages had to find quarters where best they could, their dormitory being given up to the great nobles in attendance on royalty. Diego and Don Felipe were glad of a little room to themselves, with a pallet on the floor for little Fernando, whom Brother Lawrence still faithfully attended.

“It is no use to find a sleeping place for me,” said Brother Lawrence to Diego, “for no one can sleep until the Admiral comes. I ever believed in your father, and when I saw the Prior with his head bending down over the maps for hours and days with the Admiral, I said to myself, ‘That Genoese captain will find something yet.’”

As Brother Lawrence could neither read nor write, his views on geography were not particularly valuable; but his faithfulness and devotion to Diego in his childhood, and to little Fernando now, made him a prized though humble friend. Fray Piña was perfectly unchanged, being the same calm, polished and somewhat stern young man; but Diego and Don Felipe had learned to understand and admire his justice and even his sternness, for he was no sterner with others than with himself.

“I should not be surprised,” said Diego to Don Felipe, on the night of the fourteenth of April, as they lay in their beds watching the stars shining through the window, the little Fernando sleeping on the floor, and Brother Lawrence snoring loudly on a bench outside the door—“I should not be surprised if Fray Piña were to send us word the first thing in the morning that he is prepared to give us a lesson in astronomy to-morrow instead of watching the great procession.”