The Greatest Works of Charles Carleton Coffin. Charles Carleton Coffin
the country is filled with beware, who wander homeless, friendless, through the land, holding out their hands to the passers-by, in the streets of the cities, for a morsel of bread.
CHAPTER VI
HOW A MAN TRIED TO REACH THE EAST BY SAILING WEST
IT is the month of February, 1492. The skies are mild, the flowers, in bloom, and the birds are singing in the orange gardens of the Alhambra, in the old town of Granada. Notwithstanding this joy and gladness in nature, there is one man in Granada who has no heart to enjoy it, for he has just seen a great hope, one which he has cherished many years, go down, never to rise again, so far as he can see. He comes out from the Alhambra — leaving its magnificent colonnades, its babbling fountains, its beautiful gardens, never expecting again to behold them — mounts a mule, rides out through the narrow streets, through the city gate, with his head bowed upon his breast. He is a gray-bearded man, and time is deepening the furrows in his forehead, and on this day they are deeper than ever. He has a proud spirit, and it is hard to bear the great disappointment that has comes to him. In bitterness of spirit, he rides away.
He is a sailor, and has conceived the idea that by sailing west be can reach the east. He believes that the earth is round, although nearly everybody else says that it is flat The sailor was born in Genoa, where, when he was a boy, he helped his father comb wool. He went to school in Pavia, and studied Latin, geometry, astronomy, and navigation. When he was only fourteen years old, he went to sea with his uncle, and was in a battle with some Venetian ships. Then he sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar, coasted along Africa as far south as Guiana. Once, off the coast of Portugal, he had a terrible fight with a Venetian ship. He was a captain then. Both of the ships were set on fire, and he saved himself by swimming two miles to the shore. It was a fortunate escape, however, for an old sea captain, who bad a beautiful daughter, befriended him, and the daughter became his wife.
Those were delightful days. Lisbon was a royal city. It had a strong old castle, built of stone— the Castle of Belem — and a castle on a hill overlooking the town. Every day there were processions of priests in the streets, carrying banners and crosses.
The old captain had made many voyages to the Canary Islands. He did not believe the stories told about the unknown sea far away to the west of the islands — that it was boiling-hot, nor that the great continent Atlantis which Plato wrote about had disappeared beneath the waves. It was from talking with his wife's father that the gray-bearded man had come to believe that by sailing west he could i-each the Indies. He remembered that the old Carthaginians maintained that there were green islands in the west. He had read that St. Brandon, a priest of Scotland, eight hundred years before, had been swept by a storm far away to the west, and had landed in a strange country. He was informed that Martin Vincent, s sailor of Lisbon, when he was four hundred mites from land, on a voyage to the Canary Islands, once picked up a piece of wood curiously carved, which the winds had drifted from the west. Reeds like those brought from India had floated to the shores of Portugal, and the bodies of two men unlike any other human beings had been seen in the water by sailors when far from land. From whence came they?
Fired with enthusiasm, the sailor went to the king, John of Portugal, with his project, and made it so plain that the earth was round, that China (which Marco Polo had visited) could be reached by sailing west, that the king in part believed it. But would not great glory, honor, and advantage come from such a discovery I Certainly; and the king determined to secure whatever benefit might come from it. He was not a high-minded man, and, after getting all the information he could from the sailor, sent out a ship secretly to make discoveries; but the sailors, after a few days, became frightened at finding themselves so far from land, and returned, saying that there was no land in that direction. "You can't reach the cast by sailing west," they said.
Those were dark days to the brave sailor. The king had acted perfidiously, and now his wife died. He could no longer stay in Lisbon, but took his little boy, Diego, mid went home to his native city (Genoa), for he thought perhaps his townsmen would help him; but the; laughed at him instead.
"Reach the Indies by sailing west?"
"Yes."
"You are crazy."
So he can get no help from those who know him best. He has a brother in Spain; he will go and visit him. He lauds with his son Diego at Palos. His brother lives in the country. He is too poor to hire a mule, and the sailor, with his pack on his back, leading Diego, goes out over the dusty road on foot. He comes to the convent La Rabiada. Diego is hungry, for he has bad little to eat Surely the good fathers will give him a crust of bread and a drink of water. He knocks at the gate. The porter answers the knock, and goes to get a bit of bread, and while he is gone Father Perez, the prior of the convent, who has been out for a walk, comes up. He wears a broad-brimmed hat, and has a red cross embroidered on his robe. He is a good man, and hears the sailor's story.
"Reach India by sailing west?
"Yes."
"That is an idea worth thinking about You must spend the night with me. I have, a learned friend, Doctor Fernandez. I will ask him to come in and spend the evening."
So the sailor and Diego got a good supper; and Father Perez and Doctor Fernandez listen to the sailor's story, and are greatly pleased with what he has to say. Father Perez gives him a letter of introduction, as we have already seen, to Father Talavera, who is Queen Isabella's confessor, and who has great influence at court. He is one of the men who ask questions. The sailor must go and see him, and he will introduce him to the king and queen. Meanwhile, Diego can stay at the convent and at^ tend school. This is in 1486.
The sailor leaves Diego with his good friend, and hastens to Cordova, where King Ferdinand is commanding a great army. All the nobles of Spain are there, and squadrons are marching to drive the Moors out of the country. The sailor delivers his letter to Father Talavera; but the queen's confessor cannot stop to notice a poor sailor, even though he comes with a letter from his friend, Father Perez; nor has the king any time to listen to his story. The army moves away, and the sailor, to keep himself from starvation, draws maps and charts, which he sells in Cordova.
The days are very dark now. No money, and starvation before him. But he finds another friend (Cardinal Mendoza), who has great influence with the king. Having married Isabella, and made Castile and Aragon a united country, Ferdinand is planning new enterprises. He covets the kingdom of Navarre, in the Pyrenees. He will seize that by-and-by, and so rob Catherine de Foix of her dominion. But just now he is sitting by the gurgling fountains. The cardinal goes to the king.
"I have made the acquaintance of a sailor who has a grand project to lay before your Majesty."
"What