PLATE XXXI.
Caravans from the northern coast bring cloth, arms, powder, paper, tools, hardware, sugar, tea, coffee, tobacco, and a quantity of other articles to Timbuktu. But when they begin their journey through the Sahara, only half the camels are laden. The other half are loaded with blocks of salt on the way, for salt is in great demand at Timbuktu. Caravans may be glad if they come safely through the country of the Tuaregs, and at best they can only obtain an unmolested passage by the payment of a heavy toll. On the return journey northwards the dromedaries are laden with wares from the Sudan, rice, manioc, honey, nuts, monkey breadfruit, dried fish, ivory, ostrich feathers, india-rubber, leather, and many other things. A small number of black slaves also accompany them. The largest caravans contain five hundred or a thousand dromedaries and five hundred men at most. The goods they can transport may be worth twenty-eight thousand pounds or more. Five great caravan roads cross the Sahara from north to south.
Let us set out on a journey from Timbuktu, and let us go first eastwards to the singular Lake Chad, which is half filled with islands, is shallow and swampy, choked with reeds, rises and falls with the discharge of the great rivers which flow into it, and has a certain similarity to Lop-nor in Central Asia. Nearly 17 cubic miles of water are estimated to enter Lake Chad in the year, and when we know that the lake on the whole remains much about the same size, we can conceive how great the evaporation must be.
We have our own dromedaries and our own Arab guide on whom we can rely. We can therefore go where we like, and we steer our course from Lake Chad towards the eastern Sudan, where we have already been in the company of General Gordon. But before we come to the Nile we turn off northwards to cross the Libyan desert, the most inaccessible and desolate, and therefore the least known, part of the Sahara. On our way northwards we notice that animal and vegetation life becomes more scanty. Even in the Sudan thegrasslands are more thinly clothed and the steppes more desert-like the farther we travel, and at last blown sand predominates. We must follow a well-known road which has been used for thousands of years by Arabs and Egyptians.
We are in the midst of the sea of sand. Here lie at certain places dunes of reddish-yellow drift sand as high as the tower of St. Paul's Cathedral. We see no path, for it has been swept away by the last storm; but the guide has his landmarks and does not lose his way. The sand becomes lower and the country more open. Then the guide points to a bare and barren ridge which rises out of the sand like a rock out of the sea, and says that he can find his way by this landmark, which remains in sight for several days, and is then replaced by another elevation.
We encamp at a deep well, drink and water our camels. Next day we are out in the sandy sea again. The sky has assumed an unusual hue. It is yellow, and soon changes into bluish grey. The sun is a red disc. It is calm and sultry. The guide looks serious, and says in a low tone "samum." The hot, devastating desert storm which is the scourge of Arabia and Egypt is approaching.
The guide stops and turns round. He is uncertain. But he goes on again when he sees that we cannot get back to the well before the storm is upon us. It is useless to look for shelter, for the dunes are too flat to protect us from the wind. And now the storm sweeps down, and it becomes suffocatingly close and hot. The dromedaries seem uneasy, halt, and turn away from the wind. We dismount. The dromedaries lie down and bury their muzzles in the sand. We wrap up our heads in cloths and lie on our faces beside our animals to get some shelter between them and the ground. And so we may lie by the hour panting for breath, and we may be glad if we get off with our lives from asamumwhen we are out in the desert. Even in the oases it causes a feeling of anxiety and trouble, for the burning heat is most harmful to palms and crops. The temperature may rise to 120° in this dangerous storm, which justifies its name of "poison wind."
The storm passes off, the air becomes clear and is quiet and calm, and the sun has again its golden yellow brilliance. It is warm, but not suffocating as it was. The heated air vibrates above the sand. Beside our road appears a row of palms and before them a silver streak of water. The guide, however, goes on in quite a different direction, and when we ask him why, he answers that what we see is a mirage, andthat there is no oasis for many days' journey in the direction in which we see the palms.
In the evening we come to a real oasis, and there we are glad to rest a couple of days. Here are a hundred wells, here the ground is cultivated in the shade of the palms, here we can enjoy to the full the moist coolness above the swards of juicy grass. The oasis is like an island in the desert sea, and between the palm trunks is seen the yellow level horizon, the dry, heated desert with its boundless sun-bathed wastes.
If we now turn off towards the north-west, Fezzan is the next country which our route touches. It is a paradise of date palms. They occur in such profusion that even dromedaries, horses, and dogs are fed with the fruits. The surface of the ground also has undergone a great change, and is not so sterile and choked with sand as in the Libyan desert. Here and farther to the west the country becomes more hilly. Ridges and bosses of granite and sandstone, weathered and scorched by the sun, stand up here and there. Extensive plateaus covered with gravel are calledhammada; they are ruins of former mountains which have burst asunder. In the Sahara the differences of temperature between day and night are very great. The dark, bare hill-slopes may be heated up to 140° or more when the sun bathes them, while during the night the radiation out to space is so intense that the temperature sinks to freezing-point. Through these continual alternations the rocks expand and contract repeatedly, fissures are formed and fragments are detached and fall down. The hardest rocks resist longest, and therefore they stand up like strange walls and towers amidst the great desolation.
If we go another step westwards we come to the land of the Tuaregs. There, too, we find hilly tracts andhammadas, sandy deserts and oases, and in favourable spots excellent pastures. We have already noticed in Timbuktu this small, sturdy desert people, easily recognised by the veil which hides the lower part of the face. All Tuaregs wear such a veil, and call those who do not "fly-mouths." They are powerfully built, and of dark complexion, being of mixed negro blood from all the slaves they have kidnapped in the Sudan. They are as dry and lean as the ground on which they live, and nature in their country obliges them to lead a nomad life. Wide, simple, and dreary is the desert, and simple and free is the nomad's life. The hard struggle for existence has sharpened their senses. They are acute observers, clever, crafty, and artful. Distance is of no accountto them, for they do not know what it is to be tired. They fly on their swift dromedaries over half the Sahara, and are a terror to their settled neighbours and to caravans. On their raids they cover immense distances in a short time. To ride from the heart of their country to the Sudan after booty is child's play to them. They have made existence in many oases quite unendurable. What use is it to till fields and rear palms when the Tuaregs always reap the harvest? The French have had many fights with the Tuaregs, and the railway which was to pass through their country and connect Algiers with Timbuktu is still only a cherished project. Yet this tribe which has so bravely defended its freedom against the stranger does not number more than half a million people. The Tuaregs are not born to be slaves, and we cannot but admire their thirst for freedom, their pride, and their courage.
The desert here exhibits the difficult art of living. Even animals and plants which are assigned to the desert are provided with special faculties. Some of the animals, snakes and lizards for instance, can live without water. Dromedaries can go for many days without drinking. Ostriches cover great distances to reach water before it is too late. Plants are provided with huge roots that they may suck up as much moisture as possible, and many of them bear thorns and spikes instead of leaves so that the evaporation may be insignificant. Many of them are called to life by a single fall of rain, develop in a few weeks, and die when long drought sets in again. Then the seeds are left, waiting patiently for the next rain. Some desert plants seem quite dead, grey, dried-up, and buried in dust, but when rain comes they send out green shoots again.
Every river bed is called in the Sahara awadi. Very seldom does a trickle of water run down it after rain, but in these beds the vegetation is richer than elsewhere, for here moisture lingers longer than in other spots. Many caravans march along them, and gazelles and antelopes find pasture here.
A European leaves Algeria to make his way into the Sahara with an incomprehensible feeling of fascination. In the French towns on the Mediterranean coast he has lived just as in Europe. He has been able to cross by train the forest-clad heights of the Atlas Mountains, where clear brooks murmur among the trees. He leaves the railway behind, and finds the hills barer the farther he travels south. At last themonotonous, slightly undulating desert stretches before him, and he feels the magical attraction of the Sahara drawing him deeper and deeper into its great silence and solitude. All the colours become subdued and greyish-yellow, like the lion's hide. Everything is yellow and grey, even the dromedaries which carry him, his tent and baggage, from well to well. He can hardly tell why he finds this country pleasanter than the forests and streams on the slopes of the Atlas Mountains; perhaps owing to the immense distances, the mysterious horizon afar off, the blood-red sunsets, the grand silence which prevails everywhere so that he hardly dares speak aloud. It is the magic of the desert that has got hold of him.
Thirty years ago a large French expedition, under the command of Colonel Flatters, marched along this route from Algeria southwards through the Sahara. It consisted of a hundred men, including seven French officers and some non-commissioned officers, and its equipment and provisions were carried by three hundred dromedaries. The French Government had sent out the expedition to examine the Tuaregs' country, and to mark out a suitable route for a railway through the Sahara to connect the French possessions in the north and south. It was not the first time that the Colonel had travelled in the Sahara, and he knew the Tuaregs well. Therefore he was on his guard. Everything seemed most promising. The Frenchmen mapped parts of the Sahara which no European had ever succeeded in reaching before—even the great German traveller, who had crossed the Sahara in all directions, had not been there. The most dangerous tracts were left behind, and the Tuaregs had offered no resistance: indeed some of their chiefs had been friendly. In the last letters which reached France, Flatters expressed a hope that he would be able to complete his task without further trouble, and to advance even to the Sudan.
Then the blow fell. The expedition was suddenly attacked at a well, and succumbed after a heroic defence against superior numbers. Most of the Frenchmen were cut down. Part of the caravan attempted to reach safety by hurrying northwards on forced marches, but was overtaken and annihilated. Many brave Frenchmen have met the same fate as Flatters in the struggle for dominion over the Sahara.
If we travelled, as we have lately imagined, on swift-footed dromedaries in a huge circuit from Timbuktu through the Sudan, the Libyan desert, and the land of the Tuaregs, weshould at last come to Morocco, "The Uttermost West," as this last independent Sultanate in Africa is called. Morocco is the restless corner of Africa, as the Balkan Peninsula is of Europe, Manchuria of Asia, and Mexico of North America—in South America all parts are unsettled.
Now we must say farewell to Africa. We have in front of us the Straits of Gibraltar, little more than six miles broad, the blue belt that connects the Mediterranean with the Atlantic, the sharply defined boundary which separates the black continent from the white.
We have but a step to take and we are in Spain. Here, also, a dying echo from the splendid period of Arab rule reaches our ears. We are reminded that twelve centuries have passed away since the Prophet's chosen people conquered the Iberian Peninsula. The sons of Islam were a thorn in the sides of the Christians. Little by little they were forced back southwards. Only Cordova and Granada still remained in the possession of the Arabs, or Moors as they were called, and when Ferdinand the Catholic married Queen Isabella of Castile in the year 1469, only Granada was left in the hands of the Moors. Their last king lived in his splendid palace, the Alhambra in Granada. In 1491 the Spanish army besieged the Moorish city. Barely forty years earlier the Mohammedans had taken Constantinople. Now other Mohammedans were to be turned out of western Europe. New Year's Day 1492 came and Granada fell. The Moorish king had to bend humbly on his knees before the victor ere he went on his way, and the Castilian flag waved from the towers and pinnacles of the Alhambra.
This remarkable incident was witnessed by a mariner from Genoa, forty-six years old. His name was Christopher Columbus.
At the time of the fall of Granada there was no one amongthe learned men of Europe who had any suspicion of the existence of a continent in the western ocean, and the Portuguese sought only a sea route to India—the rich land of spices, gold, pearls, and coral. But there was a learned mathematician, Toscanelli of Florence, who perceived that, as the world was round, a mariner must necessarily reach Japan, China, and India by sailing westwards from Europe, and as early as 1474 he produced maps and other proofs of the correctness of his theory. It was Columbus, by his boldness and ability, who converted this theory into fact.
Christopher Columbus was the eldest of five children of a weaver in Genoa. He and his brothers also engaged in the weaving industry, but as their father's affairs were anything but flourishing, the sons decided to seek a living in foreign countries. Christopher became a sailor, and acquired all the qualifications necessary to handle a ship. He gained great experience and a thorough knowledge of his new profession. He once sailed on an English vessel to Thule or Iceland, the longest voyage which mariners of that time dared attempt. Then he tried his fortune in Portugal, earning a living by drawing sea-charts and serving as skipper on Portuguese vessels sailing to the eastern shores of the Mediterranean and to Guinea. In the Portuguese school he learned much which was to be of great importance in his future career. He made his home in Lisbon, where he married a lady of rank.
It was at this time that he entered into correspondence with Toscanelli, who sent him a map of the route over the Atlantic to Japan, and gave him much information drawn from Marco Polo's descriptions. These letters made a deep impression on Columbus. He wrote back to Toscanelli that he thought of sailing westwards to Marco Polo's countries according to his instructions, and Toscanelli replied that he was glad to find his ideas were so well understood, and that such a voyage would bring great gain to Columbus, and an extraordinary reputation among all Christian peoples.
Columbus tried in vain to obtain the support he needed for carrying out his plan. The King of Portugal and the learned men of the country listened to him, but treated him as a presumptuous dreamer. There were a few, however, who thought that he might be right, and on their advice the King sent a vessel over the ocean without telling Columbus. It soon returned without having seen land. When Columbus heard of this underhanded proceeding, he left Lisbon in disgust and travelled alone to Spain. His wife and childrennever saw him again, except his son Diego, who afterwards joined his father.
For two years he travelled from town to town in that part of southern Spain which is called Andalusia, selling charts, which he drew with his own hand. At last he was received at Court, and was able to set forth his plan before an assembly of courtiers and ecclesiastics. But Castile was too much occupied with the war against the Moors in Granada and Malaga to venture on such a great enterprise, and Columbus had to wait for better times.
TOSCANELLI'S MAP
Two years more passed by and Columbus was again summoned to the Court, then in Cordova on the bank of the Guadalquivir. His eloquence and enthusiasm had little effect, however, and after two more years of useless waiting he resolved to turn his back on Spain and try his fortune in France.
Sad and depressed, he followed the great highroad from Cordova. Being destitute he went up to a monastery beside the road, knocked at the gate, and begged for a piece of bread for his little son Diego, whom he held by the hand. While he was talking to the porter the prior came by, listened to his words, perceived by his accent that he came from Italy, and enquired into his story and his aims. The prior was a learned and benevolent man, and entered warmly into the plans of the Italian mariner, perceiving that such an opportunity of acquiring lands in eastern Asia should not belost to Spain. He accordingly wrote to Queen Isabella, and at the end of 1491 Columbus spoke again before the learned men of the realm. Some of them treated him as an impostor, but others believed his words; and when, after the fall of Granada, the Court had a free hand, it was decided to equip Columbus for his first voyage over the Atlantic.
All the negotiations nearly fell through at the last moment, owing to the demands of Columbus. He wished to be appointed High Admiral of the Ocean and Viceroy over all the savage countries he discovered, and he demanded for himself and his descendants an eighth part of all the revenues of the new lands. But when he declared that he intended to devote his gains to the recovery of Jerusalem from the Turks, his wishes were granted and funds were assigned for the equipment of three ships in the harbour of Palos.
These vessels each had three masts, but they were far too small for such an adventurous enterprise. Only the Admiral's ship, theSanta Maria, was completely decked over. The other two, thePintaandNiña, had only decks fore and aft. The two brothers Pinzon, of noble extraction, at once volunteered for the voyage, but it was far from easy to enlist crews. Had it been a voyage along the coasts of Europe and Africa, there would have been no difficulty in finding men, but for a voyage straight out into the unknown ocean—with that the sailors would have nothing to do. At last it was necessary to open the prisons in order to procure ninety men, for only that number was needed for the whole three vessels. The lists of the crews are still extant, and show that most of the men were Castilians.
Two doctors were taken, as well as a baptized Jew, who spoke Hebrew and Arabic, and might be useful as an interpreter when the expedition came over the ocean to India. Curiously enough, Columbus had no chaplain on board, but before he set sail his friend the prior administered the sacrament to all his men, who in the opinion of most were doomed to a watery death.
Armed with a royal despatch to the Great Khan of Mongolia, Columbus stepped on board theSanta Maria, the moorings were cast off, and on August 3, 1492, the three ships steered under full sail out into the open sea.
They kept on a south-westerly course, and in six days reached the Canary Islands, where the little fleet stayed a month to repair some damages and patch up thePinta'sbroken rudder.
On September 8 a definite start was made, and when the lovely Canary Islands and the Peak of Teneriffe sank beneath the horizon, the sailors wept, believing that wind and sails would carry them from the world for ever, and that nothing but water and waves awaited them in the west.
From the first day Columbus kept a very exact diary, which shows how thoroughly he embraced Toscanelli's theory and how implicitly he relied on his fellow-countryman's calculations. To his crews, however, he represented the distance as short, so that their fears should not be increased by the thought of the great interval that separated them from the Old World. They became more anxious as days came and went, and still nothing but boundless deserts of water spread in every direction.
After a week's sail their keels ploughed through whole fields of floating seaweed, and Columbus pacified his men by the suggestion that this was the first indication of their approach to land.
TheSanta Mariawas a broad and clumsy vessel, really intended to carry cargo. She was, therefore, a slow sailer, and the other two ships usually took the lead. They were of more graceful build and had large square sails, but were of barely half the tonnage of the flagship. But all three kept together and were often so close that shouts could be heard from one ship to the other. One day Pinzon, captain of thePinta, called out to Columbus that he had seen birds flying westwards and expected to sight land before night. They therefore sailed cautiously lest they should run aground, but all their apprehension ceased when a sounding-line two hundred fathoms long, lowered through the floating sea-wrack, failed to reach the bottom.
Their progress was stopped by several days of calm, and it was September 22 before the sea-weed came to an end and the vessels rolled again out to the open bluish-green water.
Through hissing surge theSanta Mariaand her two consorts cut their way due west. A more favourable breeze could not be wished. It was the trade wind which filled their sails. The sailors were afraid of the constant east wind, and when at length it veered round for a time, Columbus wrote in his journal: "This head-wind was very welcome, for my men were mightily afraid that winds never blew in these seas which would take them back to Spain."
Toscanelli's map was sent backwards and forwardsbetween Columbus and Pinzon, and they wondered where they really were, and how far it was to the islands of eastern Asia. On September 25, Pinzon ascended the poop of thePintaand called out to Columbus, "I see land." Then he fell on his knees with all his crew, and, with voices trembling with excitement and gratitude, the Castilian mariners sang "Glory to God in the Highest." This was the first time a Christian hymn had sounded over the waves of the Atlantic. The sailors of theSanta MariaandNiñaclimbed up into the rigging, and also saw the land and raised the same song of praise as their comrades. But next day the longed-for land had vanished. It was only a mist which lay over the sea to leeward, a mirage in the boundless desert of water.
At the beginning of October, Columbus began to suspect that he had already passed the islands laid down on Toscanelli's map, and he was glad that he had not been detained by them but could sail straight on to the mainland of India. By India was meant at that time the whole of eastern Asia.
On October 7 the men on all the three vessels were sure that they saw land. Every sail was set. Each vessel thought it an honour to reach it first. TheNiñatook the lead. At sunrise the flag of Castile was hoisted to the topmast and a shot thundered from its poop. During the day the land vanished again. But now flocks of birds were seen, all making south-westwards, and Columbus gave orders to follow in the same direction. He wrote in his diary: "The sea, thank God, lay like the river at Seville, the temperature was as mild as in April at Seville, and the air was so balmy that it was delightful to breathe it."
But they sailed day after day and through the nights, and still there was nothing to be seen but water. The men had several times given vent to their discontent, and now began to grumble again. Columbus soothed them and reminded them of the reward that awaited them when they had attained their goal. "Besides, their complaints were useless, for I have sailed out to reach India, and intend to prolong my voyage until, with God's help, I have found it."
On October 11 a log was seen floating in the sea with marks on it apparently cut by human hands; and shortly after, a branch with clusters of berries. Then the sailors became content, and the Admiral promised a reward to the man who first sighted land. All kept their eyes open and watched eagerly.
In the evening Columbus thought he saw a flash of lightas though a man were carrying a torch along a low shore, and later in the night one of thePinta'smen swore that land was visible in front. Then all sails were taken in and they waited for the dawn.
When the sun rose on October 12, 1492, its rays illumined, before the eyes of the Spaniards, a flat grass-covered island which Columbus called San Salvador or St. Saviour, after Him who had rescued them from the perils of the sea. This island evidently lay north of Japan—at any rate, it would appear so from Toscanelli's map. Little did Columbus and his men suspect that a whole unknown continent and the world's greatest ocean, the Pacific, still separated them from Japan. The small island was one of the Bahama group, and is now known as Watling Island. If the voyages of the Northmen five hundred years earlier be left out of account, this island was the first point of the New World reached by Europeans.
The great day was begun with theTe Deum. The officers congratulated the Admiral, the sailors threw themselves at his feet and begged forgiveness for their insubordination. A boat was lowered, into which stepped Columbus with the flag of Castile in his hand, followed by the Pinzon brothers with the Banner of the Cross, and a few others. Without knowing it, Columbus stepped on to the soil of America. Solemnly he took possession of San Salvador on behalf of the crown of Castile. A cross was erected on an elevation on the shore in token that the island was in Christian hands.
The natives must have been astonished when they saw the three wonderful ships arrive off their coast and white men come ashore. At first they held aloof, but with beads and other gifts the Spaniards soon gained their confidence. They had only wooden javelins for weapons, did not know iron, had long lanky hair, not woolly like the negroes, were naked, and painted their bodies red and white. They knew gold, and that was well, for it was gold, and gold above everything, that Columbus needed to free the Holy Sepulchre from the Turks. These savages had gold rings in their noses, and when the Spaniards inquired by signs where the gold came from, they pointed towards the south-west.
Columbus, of course, called them Indians. Seven of them were taken on board. They were to go to Spain and "learn to talk," so that they might act as interpreters on subsequent voyages.
Then the voyage of discovery was resumed. The shipshad to be sailed with great caution, for dangerous reefs lay round the islands. According to the signs made by the savages two large islands lay to the south. One must be Japan, and when Columbus landed on the coast of Cuba and heard of a prince named Kami, he thought that this man must be the Great Khan, and that he was really on the mainland of eastern Asia. Accordingly he sent his Jew and two of his savages ashore to look for the Great Khan. They were four days away and searched as well as they could among the tent-like huts of the natives, but never saw a glimpse of any Mongolian Great Khan in Cuba.
Exceedingly beautiful was this strange coast, reminding them of Sicily. Sweet song of birds was heard, there was an odour of fruits, and green foliage and palms waved like plumes in the breeze. The Spaniards were astonished to see the natives walking about smoking rolled-up leaves which they called tobacco, and had no notion what a source of wealth these leaves in the form of cigars would become in the future. Pinzon on thePintamust have been bewitched by all the wonders he saw, for he ran off with his vessel to seek the land of gold on his own account. Columbus himself sailed across to the large island of Haiti, which as usual he took possession of in the name of Castile. The natives received him everywhere with amazement and submission, believing that he was an emissary from the abode of the gods.
On the northern coast of the island a great misfortune occurred on Christmas Eve. An inexperienced steersman was at theSanta Maria'srudder, and let the vessel run on a sandbank, where it became a wreck. The crew had to take refuge on theNiña. The natives helped to save all that was on board, and not even a pin was stolen.
But theNiñacould not hold them all, and how were they to get back to Spain? Columbus found a way out of the difficulty. He decided to found a colony on the coast. Forty men were to be left behind to search for gold, and by the time Columbus returned from Spain they would no doubt have a tun full of the precious metal, and that would be enough for the conquest of Jerusalem. The sailors were only too glad to remain, for they found the natives accommodating and the climate good. It was in all respects much pleasanter than to endure hardship on theNiña, and perhaps founder with the wretched little ship.
Accordingly, a blockhouse was built of wreckage from theSanta Maria, was surrounded by a wall and moat and provisioned, and after presenting the chief of the Indians with a shirt and a pair of gloves, Columbus weighed anchor and steered for home.
He had not sailed far before he fell in with thePinta, and took the independent Pinzon into favour again. Then they sailed eastwards across the Atlantic.
On February 12 a storm arose. All the sails were furled and the two ships lost sight of one another for good. TheNiñapitched horribly and threatened to sink. All made ready for death. Columbus, fearing that his discoveries would perish with him, wrote a narrative on parchment, covered it with wax and placed it in a cask, which was entrusted to the angry waves. The sailors thought that it was an offering with which Columbus sought to allay the storm.
A few days later theNiñaarrived safely at the southernmost island of the Azores, and thence continued her voyage to the mouth of the Tagus and Lisbon.
On March 15 the inhabitants of Palos saw the most famous of all the ships of the world come into the harbour. The people streamed down with the wildest jubilation and all the church bells were rung. The same evening thePintaalso sailed in, but was very differently received, for it was already known that Pinzon wished to usurp the honour of the discovery, being convinced that Columbus's vessel had been lost in the storm. No one took any notice of him, and he died a few days later, probably of chagrin and sorrow.
In Seville Columbus received a summons from the King and Queen, who were staying in Barcelona. His journey through Spain was one great triumphal progress. He was feted as a conqueror in every town. He was conducted in a brilliant procession through the streets, six copper-brown "Indians" marching at the head with coloured feathers in their head-dresses. This was Christopher Columbus, who had given new lands to Spain, who had discovered a convenient sea route to India just at the time when the Portuguese were looking for a route thither round the coast of Africa. In Barcelona all his titles and privileges were solemnly confirmed. Now he was actually the Admiral of the Ocean and Viceroy of India. Now he had attained the height of worldly honour.
Then began the time of adversity.
On his second voyage, when he set out with seventeen ships, he discovered the northern Antilles as far as PortoRico and came in contact with cannibals. At Haiti he found that the forty men whom he had left behind on his first voyage had been killed by the natives. He took it for granted that Cuba was the mainland of Asia, and that thence the journey to Spain might be made dryshod by following Marco Polo's footsteps. Discontent was rife among his men, the natives rose up against the intruders, rivals sprang up around him like mushrooms, and in the home country he was abused by high and low.
He returned to Spain to put everything right; but this time he was no longer received with rejoicing, and found that he had now a formidable rival in Portugal. In the year 1497 Vasco da Gama discovered the real sea route to the real India by sailing round the south of Africa, an event which, in the eyes of that generation, quite eclipsed the discoveries of Columbus. In India inexhaustible riches were to be found, whereas the poor islands of Columbus had simply cost money, ships, and men.
But the strong will of Columbus overcame all obstacles, and for the third time he sailed for his fictitious India. Now he held a more southerly course, and discovered the island Trinidad, and found that the water between it and the coast of Venezuela was fresh. There must then be a large river near. This river was the Orinoco.
Disturbances broke out again in Haiti, and Columbus's opponents sent home complaints against him. A Royal Commission was sent out to hold an enquiry, and in the end arrested the Admiral and sent him in chains to Spain. The captain of the vessel wished to remove his fetters and leave him free as long as he was on board, but Columbus would not consent, for he wished to retain them as a "reminder of the reward he had got for his services."
But when he was led in chains through the streets of Cadiz, the scene of his former triumph, the displeasure of the people was aroused, and at the Court Columbus met with a friendly reception. He even succeeded in fitting out a fourth expedition and crossed the Atlantic in nineteen days. The new Governor forbade him to land, and Columbus expressed his indignation that he, the discoverer, should not be allowed to set foot on his own islands. He then steered westwards and came to the coast of Honduras, and thence followed the coast of Nicaragua southwards. He fully and firmly believed that this was Malacca, and that farther south would be found a passage to India proper. He sailed back towards Cuba,but was driven by bad weather to Jamaica, where in great extremity he had to run his ship ashore. One of his trusty men rowed for four days in a canoe over the open sea to Haiti to beg for help. Meanwhile the shipwrecked men were in hard case. The natives threatened them, and refused them all help. Columbus knew that an eclipse of the moon would shortly occur, and told the natives that if they would not help them, the God of the Spaniards would for ever deprive them of the light of the moon. And when the shadow of the earth began to move over the moon's disc, the natives were terrified, fell at the feet of Columbus, and promised him everything. He pretended to consider the matter, but at last allowed himself to be persuaded and promised that they should keep their moon. And then the shadow moved off quietly into space, leaving the moon as bright as a silver shield.
At last he received assistance, and in 1504 was back in Spain. No one now paid any attention to him. His property was confiscated, his titles were not restored to him, and even the outstanding pay of his followers was kept back. Ill with gout and vexation, he stayed at first in Seville. His former friends did not know him. Lonely and crushed down by grief and disappointment, he died in 1506 at Valladolid. No one took any notice of his decease, and not a chronicle of the time contains a word about his death. Even in the grave he seemed to find no rest. He was first interred quietly in Valladolid; then his remains were transferred to a monastery church in Seville; half a lifetime later his body was carried to San Domingo in Haiti, where it rested for 250 years until it was deposited in the cathedral of Havana in Cuba; and finally, when Cuba was lost to the United States, the remains of the great discoverer were again brought back to Spain.
Columbus was a tall, powerfully built man, with an aquiline nose, a pink and freckled complexion, light-blue eyes and red hair, which early became white in consequence of much thought and great sorrows. During four centuries of admiration and detraction his life and character have been dissected and torn to bits. Some have seen in him a saint, a prophet; others have called him a crafty adventurer, who stole Toscanelli's plan in order to gain power, honour, and wealth for himself. But when, about twenty years ago, the fourth century since his discovery was completed, full amends were made to his memory and his achievements were celebrated throughout the world. He opened new fields for unborngenerations, he extended the bounds of the earth, and guided the world's history into new channels.
Four years before the death of Columbus, Amerigo Vespucci of Florence, who made four voyages across the ocean, suggested that the new lands had nothing to do with Asia, but were a "New World" in distinction to the Old; and a German schoolmaster, who wrote a geographical text-book, suggested in the introduction that as the fourth continent had been discovered by Amerigo Vespucci (Americus Vesputius), there was no reason why it should not be called Amerigo or America after its discoverer. The proposal was accepted, and only too late was it realised that Columbia would have been the proper name.
One discovery followed after another, and the coasts of America gradually assumed on charts and maps the form with which we are familiar. Let us for a moment dwell on another of the most striking voyages in the history of the world. In the year 1519 the Portuguese Magelhaens sailed along the east coast of South America and discovered the strait which still bears his name; and what is more, he found at last, through this strait, the western passage to India. He sailed over an immense ocean, where the weather was good and no storms threatened his ships; and accordingly he called it the Pacific Ocean. Other dangers, however, awaited him. The mariners sailed for four months over unbroken sea, suffering from hunger and disease. At last three of the vessels reached the Philippines. There Magelhaens landed with a small party, and was overpowered and slain by the natives. Only one of the ships, theVictoria, came home, but this was the first vessel which sailed round the world.
During the succeeding centuries white men struck their claws ever firmer into America. The Indians were forced back into the backwoods, and in North America they have been almost exterminated. Under French, and later, under English rule, those parts of North America have developed an unexpected power and wealth which were despised by the Spaniards, who in their boundless greed of gain thought of nothing but gold.
In a house in a Swedish countryside sit an old man and woman talking seriously.
"It is a great pity," says the old woman, "that Gunnar is beginning to think of America again."
"Yes, he will never rest," replies the old man, "till we have given our consent and let him go. To-day he says that an emigration 'touter' has promised him gold and green forests if he will take a ticket for one of the Bremen line steamers. I reminded him that the farm is unencumbered, but he answered that it could not provide for both his brothers and himself. 'It was a very different thing for you, father,' he said, 'but there are three of us to divide the produce.' He thinks it is a hopeless task to grub in our poor stony hills, when boundless plains in the western states of North America are only waiting to be ploughed, and in any factory he can be earning wages so large as to yield a small income for several years."
"Yes, indeed, I know, it is his cousins who have put this fancy in his head with their glowing letters. But I suppose we cannot prevent him going if his heart is set on it?"
"What can we do? He is a free man and must go his own way."
"Well, perhaps it is best. When he is home-sick he will come back again."
"I am afraid it will be long enough before that happens. At starting all seems so fine. 'I shall soon come home with a small pile.' In reality all his memories will grow faint within a year, and the distance to the red cottage will seem to grow longer as time flies. I mourn for him as dead already; he will never come back."
A few days after this our emigrant Gunnar breaks all ties and tears up all the roots which since his birth have held him bound to the soil of Sweden. He travels by the shortest route to Bremen and steps on board an emigrant steamer for New York. During the long hours of the voyage the people sit on deck and talk of the great country to which they are all bound. Before the last lighthouse on the coast of Europe is lost to sight, Gunnar seems to have all America at his finger-ends. The same names are always ringing in his ears—New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco have become quite familiar, and he has only to insert between them a number of smaller towns, a few rivers, mountains, and lakes, to draw in a few railway lines, to remember the great country of Canada to the north and mountainous Mexico in the south, to place at three of the corners of the continent the peninsulas of Alaska, California, and Florida, and at the fourth the large island ofNewfoundland, and then his map of North America is complete.
The voyage over the Atlantic draws to an end. One day a growing restlessness and excitement is perceptible, and the travellers cast inquiring glances ahead. It is said that the American coast will be visible in an hour. And so it is. An irregular line appears to starboard. That is Long Island. Two hours more, and the boat glides into the mouth of the Hudson River and comes alongside at Ellis Island in the harbour of New York. A row of other vessels lie moored at the quays. These also have brought immigrants to America and will soon return to fetch more. They must go backwards and forwards year out and year in to carry three thousand persons daily to the United States.
Gunnar has packed his things in good time and takes up a favourable position from which he can observe his fellow-travellers. He has never heard such a noise and never seen such bustle. The people throng the gangways, call to one another, haul out their discoloured portmanteaus and their roped bundles. There are seen Swedes and Germans, Polish and Russian Jews, Galicians and Croats mingled together, some well dressed and with overcoats, others in tattered clothes and with a coarse handkerchief in place of a collar.
Yonder, overlooking New York harbour, stands the colossal statue of Liberty, a female figure holding a torch in her right hand. When darkness lies over the earth she throws a dazzling beam of electric light out over the water, the quays, houses, and ships. But Gunnar experiences no feeling of freedom as he sets his foot on American soil. He and all his fellow-travellers are provided with numbered tickets and marshalled into long compartments in a huge hall. Then they are called out one after another to be questioned, and a doctor comes and examines them. Those who suffer from lung disease or other complaint, or being old and feeble have no prospect of gaining a livelihood, receive a peremptory order of exclusion on grey paper and must return by the next vessel to their fatherland. The others who pass the examination proceed in small steamers to the great city, where, among the four millions of New York, they vanish like chaff before the wind.
From whatever land they may come they always find fellow-countrymen in New York, for this city is a conglomeration of all the peoples of the world, and seventy different languages are spoken in it. A third of its inhabitants have been born in foreign countries. In Brooklyn, the quarter on Long Island, there are whole streets where only Swedes live. In the "Little Italy" quarter live more Italians than there are in Naples, in the "Chinese Town" there are five thousand Chinese, and even Jews from Russia and Poland have their own quarter. Gunnar soon finds that New York is more complicated than he supposed when he was rolling out on the Atlantic.
Meanwhile he decides to take it easy at first, and to learn his way about before plunging into the struggle for existence. In Brooklyn he soon meets with a fellow-countryman and gets a roof over his head. A pleasant, well-to-do railway employé from Stockholm takes pleasure in showing him about and impressing him with his knowledge of America.
"This town must be old," says Gunnar, "or it could not have grown so large."
"Old! No, certainly not. Compared to Stockholm it is a mere child. It is barely three hundred years old, and at the time of Gustavus Adolphus it did not contain a thousand inhabitants. But now it is second only to London."
"That is wonderful. How can you account for New York becoming so large? Stockholm and Bremen are pigmies beside it. I have never seen the like in my life. There are forests of masts and steamboat funnels in all directions, and at the quays vessels are loaded and unloaded with the most startling speed."
"Yes, but you must remember that the population of the United States increases at an extraordinary rate. During last century it doubled every twenty years. And remember also that nearly half the foreign trade of the Union passes through New York. Hence are exported grain, meat, tobacco, cotton, petroleum, manufactured goods, and many other things. It is, therefore, not remarkable that New York needs 36 miles of quays with warehouses, and that more than seventy steamboat lines sail to and from the port. And, besides, it is a great industrial town. Think of its position and its fine harbour! Eastward lies the Atlantic with routes to Europe; westwards run innumerable railway lines, five of which stretch right through to the Pacific coast."
"Tell me something about the railways," exclaims Gunnar, who wants to go out west at the first favourable opportunity.
"Yes, I can give you information about them, for I havebeen working on several lines. As far back as 1840 the United States had 2800 miles of railway, and twenty years later 30,000 miles. Now it has nearly two hundred and forty thousand miles of rails, a strip which would reach to the moon or ten times round the equator. The United States have more railways than all Europe, though the population is only a fifth that of Europe; but the area is about the same."
"How do you explain this rapid development of railway enterprise?"
"Well, the fact is that at first the aim was to fill up the gaps between the waterways. Rivers were relied on as long as possible, and the first railways were built in districts where there were no large rivers. Then in course of time various lines converged together, new railways were constructed, and now the forty-nine States are covered with a connected network of lines. Moreover, the country roads are so bad that they must be supplemented by railways."
"A large number of bridges must be necessary across all the large rivers?"
"Yes, certainly. The Americans are adepts in bridge-building, and the railway bridges over the Mississippi and Missouri and other rivers are masterpieces of the boldest art. Where lines cross deeply eroded valleys, bridges of timber were formerly built, like sky-scraping parapets with rails laid along the top; but such bridges are now fast disappearing and iron bridges are built, and the trains run at full speed over elegant erections which from a distance look just like a spider's web. Just look to your left. There you have one of the world's strongest bridges, the suspension bridge between New York and Brooklyn. It is of colossal dimensions, and yet it looks so fine and delicate as it hangs between its two mighty piers. You see that vessels with the tallest masts can pass clear below, for it is poised 135 feet above high water. The length is nearly a mile and a quarter. It is wonderful that men have been able to stretch this huge span of iron above the water. Wait a little and you will see a kind of aerial railway."
Then the Stockholm man takes his new friend to a station to travel on the elevated railway through New York. Gunnar's astonishment is beyond bounds as he rushes along on a framework, supported by innumerable iron pillars, over streets and squares, and sees the seething crowd moving in carriages and on foot below his feet.
"Here is the Central Park. Is it not delightful with its leafy trees and cool pools? In summer it is burning hot in the town, and it is refreshing to rest an hour or two in the shade of the trees. The winters are equally cold, and raw, biting winds blow from the east coast. Here is Fifth Avenue, the finest street of New York. In the row of palaces you see here live millionaires, railway kings, steel kings, petroleum kings, corn kings, a whole crop of kings. But I would rather we went to look at the rows of houses facing the Hudson River."
"New York lies, then, on the Hudson River?"
"That is so, but more properly speaking New York stands on the island of Manhattan in the mouth of the river. We are standing, then, on Manhattan, and it is interesting to recall the fact that this island was sold three hundred years ago by Indians to Dutchmen for the sum of four pounds. It is rather more valuable now! Just look at the hideous sky-scrapers with their twenty and thirty storeys" (Plate XXXII.).
"I was just wondering why houses are built so enormously high."
"That is owing to the tremendous value of the ground. When there is not space enough to build out laterally, the buildings are piled up heavenwards, where there is plenty of room. They are certainly not handsome. Look at this row of houses, some of moderate height, others as tall as chimneys. Are they not like a row of keys moved by invisible gigantic fingers?"
"I should not like to live in such a building, I am sure. On the top floor I should be giddy with the height, and on the first I should expect the whole mass to tumble down on me."
"We are better off in Brooklyn, where the houses are of moderate height. To-morrow I will show you something not less remarkable than the wealthy quarter of the city. I will take you to the Chinese town. There Chinese swarm in the dirty lanes; there the whole place reeks of onions and tobacco and spirits from the public-houses; there are vile gambling hells and opium dens; and there paper lanterns on fishing rods hang outside the tea-houses. Then we can take a look at 'Little Italy,' a purely Italian town in the midst of the New York of the Americans. There you will see only Italian books in the book-shops, there Italian newspapers are read, there wax candles burn round images of the Madonna in thechurches, and black-haired, brown-eyed children from sunny Italy play in the gutters. And we must not forget 'Little Russia,' the Jews' quarter. The Jews are a remarkable people; you never see them drunk, and you never hear of any crime or felony committed by them. They live poorly, cheaply, and sparingly, and seem cheerful in their booths beside the streets."