tained at his town, with great kindness and hospitality, the mes sengers sent in return. But while sailing to the residence of this friendly chief, a great misfortune befell the admiral, in the loss of his ship, which, owing to the carelessness of the mariners, ran on a shoal in the night, and by the force of the sea and current, was soon reduced to a wreck. The crews of both vessels were now crowded into the little caravel Nina, the only one remaining under his command. The worthy cacique, with his people, did all he could to alleviate the misfortune. In their light canoes, the Indians unladed the shattered vessel, carrying its contents on shore, and religiously guarding them, even to the smallest article, though in their eyes of inestimable value, for the use of the owners. Guacanagari himself, shedding tears of sympathy, went on board, comforting the admiral for his loss, and generously offering all that he possessed. His people brought in considerable gold, which they readily exchanged for trifles; and the chief, observing the comforting effect of this circumstance on the minds of his guests, assured them that in the mountains abundance of that metal was to be found, at a place which he called Cibao, and which Columbus, as a matter of course, concluded could be no other than the long-sought Cipango. So charmed were the crews with the gentleness and kindness of their entertainers, that a number now besought of the admiral permission to remain on the island, rather than voyage to Europe in the crowded caravel. This scheme was approved, and all hands, with the assistance of the natives, set eagerly to work at breaking up the wrecked vessel, and constructing a fortress of its materials. Guns were mounted for its defence, and the admiral bestowed on it the pious title of La Navidad or "The Nativity." Thirty-nine volunteers, under command of Diego de Arana, composed the garrison, and Columbus gave them strict directions for their conduct, espe cially enforcing the necessity of just and conciliatory treatment of the natives. The good cacique promised his assistance and protection, and with tears of regret took leave of his departing guests. The little caravel Nina, freighted with the momentous tidings of the discovery of a new world, on the 4th of January, 1493, set sail for the shores of the old. Two days afterwards, while slowly coasting along against baffling winds, to the surprise of Columbus, he saw the Pinta coming before an casterly wind. The vessels joined company, and the admiral thought best to accept the excuses of Pinzon, who averred that acci dent alone had prevented his rejoining the squadron. But, in truth, he had sailed in quest of an island, which he supposed to abound in gold; and had lately been engaged in collecting that metal at Hayti and in kidnapping the Indians. These, however, the admiral compelled him to restore to their homes. In his own vessel, he carried six of the Indians, whom he had induced to accompany him, to instruct as interpreters, as well as for presentation at the court of Spain, as specimens of the inhabitants of the newly-discovered land. Proceeding along the shore, the returning voyagers anchored in the gulf of Samana, and were presently engaged in combat with the Ciguayans-a bold and warlike race of mountaineers, whose arrows and heavy swords of palm-wood indeed proved of no avail against the steel and fire-arms of the Spaniards. They were put to flight and two of them were wounded-"and thus were spilt the first drops of that vast ocean of blood, which for three centuries has been poured out by the unhappy aborigines of all America, as a libation to the cruelty and avarice of the European races." Despite this untoward commencement of their acquaintance, peace and friendliness were speedily restored between the combatants; and the Indian chief, having visited the ship, pleased with his entertainment, presented to Columbus his coronet of gold-a token of royal generosity, with which Guacanagari had already complimented his visitor. THE VOYAGE TO SPAIN. PERIL FROM TEMPESTS. -REFLEC UN the 16th of January the vessels again set sail, but, until the commencement of the following month, were delayed by adverse winds. They then, for a time, made good headway, but on the 14th of February, in a tremendous storm, the Pinta was lost sight of, and all the nautical skill of Columbus, equal to that of any man of his day, was required to keep his little open craft alive in the tempestuous seas of the Atlantic. Many pious vows and penances were undertaken-one being that, at the first land they touched, the admiral and all the company, barefooted and in their shirts, should go to offer up prayers to the Holy Virgin. That the tidings of his grand discovery might by chance survive, if the vessel should founder, Columbus now wrote briefly two accounts of his voyage, one of which, imbedded in wax, he placed in a barrel and flung overboard -the other, secured in like manner, he placed on the stern, that it might float off, when the vessel should be ingulphed by the waves. His natural grief at the prospect of such an obscure and dreary end to his noble achievements and still grander anticipations, was heightened by the lamentations of his crew, and the remembrance, as he simply states, of the threats and menaces by which he had compelled them to complete the voyage. "I could have supported this evil fortune," he piously writes to his patrons, "with less grief, had my person alone been in jeopardy, since I am a debtor for my life to the Supreme Creator, and have at other times been within a step of death. But it was a cause of infinite sorrow and trouble to think that, after having been illuminated from on high with faith * * * and certainty to undertake this enterprise; after having victoriously achieved it, and when on the point of convincing my opponents, and securing to your highnesses great glory and vast increase of dominion, it should please the divine majesty to defeat all by my death. * And although, on the one hand, I was comforted by a faith that the Deity would not permit a work of such great exaltation to his church, wrought through so many troubles and contradictions, to remain imperfect; yet, on the other hand, I reflected on my sins, for which he might intend as a punishment that I should be deprived of the glory which would redound to me in this world." On the 15th, during the continuance of the gale, the tempest-tossed caravel finally made land; and, three days afterwards, was enabled to anchor under the lee of St. Mary's, the most southern of the Azore islands. Great curiosity was excited by her arrival, and the Portuguese governor dispatched presents and courteous messages to the admiral, though with treacherous and malignant intent. This presently appeared; for half the crew, while performing their pious vow in a chapel of the virgin, were set upon by a rabble route of the islanders, horse and foot, headed by that functionary himself, who, however, was grievously disappointed at not getting possession of the person of Columbus. It was not until the 23d that the latter could regain his men; and on the following day, wounded at this ungenerous reception at the hands of civilized men, (so different from that of his kindly entertainers the savage Haytians,) he again got under way, and steered for Spain. On the 4th of March, 1493, the little craft, preserved amid so many perils, entered the mouth of the Tagus. The greatest curiosity and excitement immediately prevailed. The river was covered with boats; and King John, aware of the magnitude of the achievement, received the discoverer with high honours, though secretly devoured with chagrin at the remembrance of the perfidy by which he had forfeited his own claim to the splendid prize now rescued from the depth of the ocean. Rejecting a proposal for the assassination of Columbus, suggested by his more unprincipled advisers, he resolved forthwith to dispatch a powerful force to anticipate Spain in the seizure of the tempting lands just brought to light. On the 15th, Columbus once more cast anchor in the port of Palos, whence a little more than seven months before he had taken his departure on this most eventful of voyages. The whole com munity was entranced with joy; the bells were rung, and a solemn procession was made to the church. In the midst of these rejoicings, the Pinta rëentered the harbour. Pinzon, who had touched at Bayonne, and thence, with the air of a great discoverer, had dispatched his tidings to the court, was filled with consternation when he beheld the vessel of his commander, which he had supposed swallowed up in the ocean, riding safely in the harbour. He kept in private, and in a few days died of a broken heart, his end being hastened by a reproachful letter which he received from the sovereigns. Such was the melancholy fate of a man whose daring, liberality, and enterprise so materially contributed to the discovery of the New World, but all whose high qualities, by treachery and insubordination, missed of the renown to which they would otherwise have been justly entitled. The court of Spain, filled with exultation at the magnificent tidings, summoned the successful adventurer to Barcelona; and, having commenced his preparations for a second voyage, he journeyed thither through roads beset by crowds of curious and admiring gazers. A great multitude, headed by nobles and cavaliers, went forth from the city to meet him; and as he passed in triumphal procession through the streets, all gazed with intense curiosity on the trophies of the unknown world-on coronets and ornaments of gold, the gift of Indian kings-on the gay birds from the forests of the Antilles-on the tawny natives of the new land-and most eagerly on the majestic person of the great discoverer, already venerable with years, and of a presence and demeanour whose natural nobility seemed adequate to the magnitude and grandeur of his achievement. The sovereigns, in a great public assembly, rose from their thrones to receive him-an honour, in that proud and punctilious court, accorded only to royal visitors. In an eloquent and touching narrative, he recounted his adventures, and all present, moved to tears by the extraordinary occasion, fell on their knees and returned thanks to God, while a thrilling Te Deum, chanted by the royal choir, went up to Heaven. The most splendid acknowledgment of his services was now made by the grateful sovereigns to their long-neglected protégé. In addition to the high honours and dignities already acquired by his success, he was allowed to quarter the royal arms with his own, and to add a group of islands surrounded by the waves, with the magnificent legend: |