The Life of Columbus.CHAPTERII.
Columbus sails on his first voyage—He continues his course.
Thethird of August, 1496, was a memorable day to Columbus and to the world. On the morning of that day the sails of the three vessels were seen by the inhabitants of Palos, spread for the voyage. To Columbus it was a joyful occasion,—to many of the people it was a season of gloom. Several of them had friends on board. They were now to bid them farewell, and they could not believe but that it would be final. They had little confidence in the success of the enterprise. Even the sailors appeared dejected. Many tears, it is said, were shed that morning, and loud lamentations were heard as the sails rose to the wind.
All things being in readiness, orders were issued to make sail. The vessels were soon gallantly ploughing their way through the deep, while the flag of Columbus was streaming to the wind on board the Santa Maria.
Many a bright morning is soon overcast by clouds. It was so with the prospects of Columbus. He was scarcely out of sight of land, before a signal of distress was made from the Pinta. She had unshipped her rudder, which was found to be broken. Columbus was not without his suspicions that the misfortune was the effect of design, in consequence of the reluctance of some on board to continue the voyage. The misfortune made it necessary for him to steer for the Canary islands. These islands are thirteen in number.
Three weeks were here spent in attempting to find a vessel to take the place of the Pinta. The effort was unsuccessful. The broken rudder of thePinta was therefore supplied by a new one.
The vessels being again in readiness, Columbus left the island of Gomera, where the above repairs had been made, on the 6th of September. He now directed his course westward into the broad Atlantic.
On the 9th, Ferro, the most western of the Canary islands, was discovered, but before the setting in of night no trace of it remained in sight.
They had now taken leave of their country. Before them rolled a wide waste of waters, in the billows of which many expected to find a grave. Gloom and dejection seemed to rest heavily on the brow of many a rugged seaman—some of whom, even in this beginning of the voyage, broke out into loud complaints.
Columbus soothed and flattered them. He was himself confident of success, and spread before them the prospect of wealth and honor which he was sure they would realize.
On the 11th of September, they computed the distance run from Ferro at about 450 miles. At this time a mast was discovered in the water. The ill-boding seamen doubted not that it belonged to some unfortunate vessel; and from this fragment of the wreck, drew the conclusion that a similar fate was at no great distance to attend themselves.
September 14th, two birds were seen, a heron and a water-wagtail. These were supposed not to venture far from land: hence, the joy of the seamen was great. In this instance, however, their expectations were not realized.
In the course of a few days they fell in with the trade wind. This wind is so called because it favors trade. In the Atlantic Ocean, between the tropics, the trade winds blow constantly from the eastward to the westward.
They now went on prosperously and rapidly. The wind was so steady that for several days not a sail was shifted. The sailors would have been delighted but for one circumstance. If the wind blew so constantly from east to west how would they ever be able to return?
On the 18th of September, the wind from the east still wafting them forward, Columbus, from frequent experiments, was of the opinion that the water of the ocean was hourly growing fresher as they proceeded. If so, were they not approaching land?
The thought infused fresh animation into the crews. Every sail was spread—every possible exertion made by each to outstrip the others. At the same time, every eye which could be spared, was busily intent in looking for the expected land. There was a double reason for this—one was the ardent desire to attain the object of the voyage—the other was a promise of a reward of thirty crowns, or nearly one hundred and twenty dollars, to the man who should first descry land. The Pinta, being the best sailor, generally took the lead, and a signal from her, that a flock of birds was seen, served to add to the belief that land was not far distant.
The prospect of land, however, died away, and the sailors again began to be uneasy and dissatisfied. Every day’s sailing—every propitious wind, was carrying them farther from home and from friends. All served to strengthen their belief that in the wide waters they would find a last dwelling-place.
On the23dof September, the wind changed and became nearly ahead. This impeded their progress, but it encouraged the sailors, as they inferred from it, that perchance they might be able to get back again. Other circumstances at this time also aroused their spirits. Several birds alighted upon the ships. These were so small as to induce the belief that land could not be far distant, as their strength would notadmit of long-continued flight. Besides this, they sung so sweetly and with so much life, that the sailors thought they could not fear but that they could get back to land.
But again, soon after, the apprehensions of the crews were all alive. The sea appeared on every side to be covered with weeds. This they supposed to be an evidence of their approach to shoals and rocks. These apprehensions were still farther increased, on the 25th of September, by an unusual and distressing swell of the sea. Columbus told them that it was the effect of a gale which had subsided. But they believed him not.
In truth, they had been discontented from the first of the voyage. They had given a reluctant consent to the undertaking. The voyage proved longer than they expected. If much longer continued, their provisions might fail—at least there could be little hope remaining of their being able to make a safe return.
The growing discontents of the crew were watched by Columbus with solicitude. He was a courageous man, and better able than most men to allay a rising storm—to dispel fear and despondency.
But at length, complaints, which had been uttered by one to another, became louder and louder; and some even went so far as to talk of casting Columbus into the sea and sailing forthwith on their return. In these trying circumstances, Columbus left no expedient untried to quell their mutinous spirit. Some he soothed—some he flattered—others he threatened.
On the 25th, as they were sailing still westward, and before a prosperous breeze, a shout was heard from on board the Pinta, that land was in sight.
For a time the joy of the crews broke forth in glory to God. The masts were climbed—the rigging was filled, and every eye was strained to catch a glimpse of the long-desired land. The direction in which it was supposed to be seen, was southerly. So strong was the belief that land had been seen, that Columbus felt himself compelled to alter his course, and all that night to steer towards the object of their search.
The morning, however, brought with it the same unbroken prospect which had stretched gloomily before them for so many weeks. They were now satisfied that what they had seen was only a cloud, and which had departed like the darkness of the night.
The joy which they had experienced had been suddenly raised—it had risen high. The disappointment which followed was severe—and dejection sat heavily on every countenance.