Cuba Past and Present

by Richard Davey

Such, then, was Genoa,—Queen of the Mediterranean, as Venice was Queen of the Adriatic,—when Christopher Columbus first saw the light. His parents were, as we have seen, people in a humble but eminently respectable position. Their manner of life differed little from that of their neighbours. Thus was passed, only fifty years ago, the life of an honest Genoese family of the lower middle class. At five in the morning the family, apprentices, and servants rose. After saying the "Angelus," they proceeded to the nearest church to Mass. A slice of bread, with fruit in summer, or dried figs in winter, and a glass of wine, formed the first meal or breakfast. Then came work until noon, when the frugal dinner was served—meat once a week, and sweets only on great festivals. As a rule, it consisted of a minestrone, a succulent and wholesome sort of soup, made with all kinds of vegetables, rice, and bits of pork cut up into square pieces, macaroni, ravioli, and other like dishes. After this meal there was an hour for recreation. Then to work again until sunset, when the whole household repeated the "Angelus," and said the Rosary. In summer they would go processionally from street image to image, singing their Aves and Paters with uncommon unction before the holy figure, round which burned scores of little oil lamps, amid cart-wheel-shaped bouquets. Sometimes one-half the people on the street said the Rosary, while the other gave the responses. It is not surprising if, after a regime of this sort, Christopher Columbus grew up to be a very pious man. However, there were plenty of scandals going the round of the town, even in 1451, and I am afraid religiosity rather than piety was the true characteristic of this singular population. Still, the evidence in favour of Columbus and his family is so greatly to their advantage that we may feel sure they were really people of exceptional integrity and sincere piety.

Little Genoese boys and girls were brought up rather sternly, and the ferrula was much in use. Often, no doubt, did the small Columbus, both at home and at school, hold out his chubby hand to receive the strokes. The mother and sister appeared in public very rarely, and were invariably veiled. The church was the principal object of these excellent people's existence. It is so to this day with a majority of the lower and middle-class Genoese, who spend half their time in church, and are quite as well pleased to go and hear a sermon as their neighbours at Turin are to attend a new play. I am quite sure that more than once a year the infant Columbus and his brothers, dressed up as saints, and very artistically too, walked in the processions of the three or four confraternities attached to the church and convent of St Stefano. I daresay Christopher often impersonated the infant St John, or even the Child Jesus, and was carried on the shoulders of some gigantic brother disguised as St Christopher:

"San Cristofero grosso,

Porta il mondo a dorso."

—"the big St Christopher carries the world on his back."

In Holy Week, what a time these pious folks had, to be sure! There was so much to see that people were fain to leave their business to take care of itself, and either to walk in the processions or else watch them wend their way along the tortuous streets. There were the flagellants to see, who whipped themselves until their bare backs were red. As to the Guilds and Corporations: they were a source of infinite interest and excitement! Each had its Cassaccia or shrine to carry, and, above all, its tremendous crucifix, which people wagered would never reach its destination, so terrific was its weight. If the wretched man who carried it staggered and fell, hundreds of lire changed hands, and if he managed to restore it to its place in the Oratory belonging to the Guild, he was acclaimed as great a hero as a victorious modern jockey. And the Sepulchres on Holy Thursday, and the Procession of the Passion on Good Friday, all these wonderful things, and many others too numerous to describe, did the youthful Columbus admire, enjoy, and venerate,[21] we may be sure.

The boy Columbus had his sports, too, like any other lad in every part of the world, old and new. He played boccie or bowls, and palla, a sort of football, and, like all other Genoese urchins, he was, I doubt not, an excellent diver and swimmer. His character in after life, so full of noble courage, gentleness, piety, and justice, speaks volumes for the education he received at his mother's knee. His devotion to parents is proved by his frequent mention of them, and he loved the beautiful city "where he was born, and whence he came" with patriotic ardour.

Although there is no positive proof that such was the case, we may safely conclude that, together with all the Genoese of his period, he was imbued from the earliest age with a love of the sea and of adventure. In the gloom of his father's cavernous shop he must often have heard foreign and native merchants, captains, and sailors, who came to purchase woollen goods, relate tales of extraordinary discoveries made in the unknown seas beyond the Pillars of Hercules. Vast, indeed, was the commerce of Genoa at this epoch. Her vessels roamed the seas as far as the Caspian, where Marco Polo found them trading from port to port. Genoa rivalled Venice in the Levant, and held the keys of the commerce of North Africa. In Bruges her merchants had a hall of their own; it still exists, with the effigy of St George over its Gothic portal. Genoese merchants were well known in the crowded thoroughfares of London city, and their velvets and silks were to be bought in the High Street of Edinburgh and in the markets of Copenhagen and Christiania.

In the last half of the 15th century the world talked much of discoveries of magic isles of pearl, and of deceptive islands that rose on the horizon of the Atlantic, and, syren-like, deluded venturesome travellers to their doom. In Genoa lived the Vivaldi family, descendants of Vadino and Guido Vivaldi, and of Ugolino and Tedesco Vivaldi, who, between 1285 and 1290, discovered not only the Azores, but also Madeira and the Canaries. The fact is mentioned very minutely in records of the 13th century. Often must Columbus have heard of these bold pioneers, and likewise of the ship and its crew of thirty men, which, in 1467,—as we learn from Pietro d'Abano, in his Conciliatore,—the Genoese Government equipped in Lisbon, at its expense, and sent on a mission of discovery, from whence none ever returned. Sailors, whose frail vessels had been driven out to sea far beyond the coast of Spain towards "the new lands," had doubtless seen the Azores, and, returning home, had spread the most fantastic stories of cities of gold inhabited by a people whose heads grew beneath their shoulders. In short, the imaginative child must often have listened to tales of wonderment such as Othello poured out to Desdemona. At fourteen he went to sea. He was in the prime of his glorious manhood on that momentous morn of October 1492, when the verdant islands of San Salvador and Cuba rose like emeralds out of the shining sea to delight his thankful vision, and enriched European civilization by opening the gates of a New World before its wondering eyes.[22]

APPENDIX II.
Notes on some Old Papers connected with the History of the West Indies.

IN 1886-7 the writer of these lines became closely connected with the West Indian Section of the Indian and Colonial Exhibition, South Kensington. Sir Augustus Adderley, the Commissioner for the West Indies, a gentleman of varied knowledge and experience, displayed an activity in organising the Court for which he was responsible, which resulted in a thorough and most satisfactory representation of the various West Indian islands under British dominion. To add attraction to his Department, Sir Augustus set himself to collect every historical document, book, print, and MS., illustrative of the early history of the islands, which he could procure. With this object, he entrusted the author with the mission of obtaining whatever records of Columbus and his companions existed in Rome and elsewhere, even in the Antilles. Thanks to letters from Cardinal Manning, an interview with Cardinal Simeone, then Director of the Sacred Congregation of the Propaganda, was soon obtained, and his introduction to the Secretary, Archbishop Jacobini, granted, in the most friendly manner. A minute search of the archives of this famous institution was immediately made, but nothing of any particular importance connected with the subject of enquiry was found to exist. Monsignore Jacobini, however, averred that he had heard a story to the effect that in Napoleon I.'s time, the archives of the Propaganda were roughly packed in carts, conveyed to Cività Vecchia, and there embarked for France and Paris. Whilst passing through the streets of Rome, several bundles of most valuable papers were jolted out, picked up, and some—but very few—restored to the Congregation. Of the rest, only a part were returned to the College, whilst almost all the earlier papers were retained in Paris, and are now stored in the Bibliothèque Nationale and elsewhere. The existing archives of the Propaganda only date from the first half of the present century. It was found impossible to obtain permission for the exhibition of many treasures among the Vatican MSS.—which, seen through glass cases, would have hardly, indeed, produced the effect they deserved. All my attention, therefore, was turned to the small but most interesting collection of parchments and MSS. in the Borgian Museum. Pre-eminent among these are the far-famed Borgian Maps, the first of which is probably the earliest existing geographical record of Central America and the West Indies. Down this famous sheet Pope Alexander VI.'s own hand traced the lines dividing the whole of the New World into two equal portions, one for Spain, the other for Portugal. Notwithstanding his evident desire to oblige the Commissioner and the Committee, His Holiness decided that so precious and historical a relic could not be allowed to leave its place, but he courteously gave permission for the removal to the London Exhibition of the second Borgian Map, known as "Diego Ribero," a document of the highest archæological value. The drawing, perfect and beautiful, was executed by Diego Ribero, geographer to Charles V. from 1494 to 1529, that is, during the lifetime of Columbus, and under his personal supervision. Down the centre pass two slight lines, facsimile of the divisional lines traced by Alexander VI. on the first Borgian Map. The map, though singularly clearly drawn, is full of absurd inaccuracies. The West Indies are shown with precision, and the names given with considerable elaboration. America, on the other hand, is barely indicated, the coast alone being defined, and Africa is introduced with the Nile wandering somewhat at random down to three lakes, situated just above what is now known as Cape Colony. A number of very well-drawn ships are introduced, of colossal dimensions, in comparison with the land, and bearing inscriptions to the effect that they are either bound for, or returning from, the "Maluccas," by which it would appear that these were then considered the principal maritime port of the world. The arms of Pope Julius II.—an oak-tree with twisted branches—are introduced in a shield at the foot, notwithstanding the fact that the map bears the date of Clement VII. As a specimen of Italian, or rather Spanish, calligraphy, of the 16th century, it is superb, and in most perfect preservation. The Congregation of the Propaganda also lent an engraved reproduction of the famous Marco Polo Map, a curious specimen of German geographical lore, at the commencement of the 15th century, the original of which is engraved on brass. It was found to be far too heavy for transportation. In this map the world is reproduced surrounded by water, and the general appearance is not unlike that of a drop of Thames water as seen through a powerful microscope, so confused are the earth and water, and so mixed up with representations of extraordinary living creatures.