Columbus has triumphed,
His foes are confounded!"
or
"Thy name, Isabella,
Through all earth shall be sounded,
Columbus has triumphed,
His foes are confounded!"
To Aragon and Castile Columbus had "given a new world." Peals of golden horns shook the delighted cities, where balconies overflowed with flowers.
His reception at Barcelona by the King and Queen had been made inconceivably splendid:
"That was a glorious day
That dawned on Barcelona. Banners filled
The thronging towers, the old bells rung, and blasts
Of lordly trumpets seemed to reach the sky
Cerulean. All Spain had gathered there,
And waited there his coming; Castilian knights,
Gay cavaliers, hidalgos young, and e'en the old
Puissant grandees of far Aragon,
With glittering mail and waving plumes and all
The peasant multitude with bannerets
And charms and flowers.
"Beneath pavilions
Of brocades of gold, the Court had met.
The dual crowns of Leon old and proud Castile
There waited him, the peasant mariner.
"The heralds waited
Near the open gates; the minstrels young and fair
Upon the tapestries and arrased walls,
And everywhere from all the happy provinces
The wandering troubadours.
"Afar was heard
A cry, a long acclaim. Afar was seen
A proud and stately steed with nodding plumes,
Bridled with gold, whose rider stately rode,
And still afar a long and sinuous train
Of silvery cavaliers. A shout arose,
And all the city, all the vales and hills,
With acclamations rung.
"He came, the Genoese,
With reverent look and calm and lofty mien,
And saw the wondering eyes and heard the cries,
And trumpet peals, as one who followed still
Some Guide unseen.
"Before his steed
Crowned Indians marched with lowly faces,
And wondered at the new world that they saw;
Gay parrots screamed from their gold-circled arms,
And from their crests swept airy plumes. The sun
Shone full in splendor on the scene, and here
The old and new world met!"
The young Italian Chevalier, Pigafetta, Knight of Rhodes, visited the scenes that his own countryman had made immortal by his voyage.
He thought of the plumed Indians and of the birds of splendid plumage that Columbus had brought back.
He heard much of Magellan, the "new Columbus." Why might he not go out upon unknown seas with him and discover new races, and bring back with him tropic spices, birds, and flowers?
He journeyed to Seville and there met Magellan. He entered into the dreams of the new navigator. He asked Magellan to let him sail with him.
"Why do you wish to enter upon such a hazardous undertaking?"
"I am desirous of seeing the wonderful things of the ocean!"
Magellan saw it was so. The Spaniards might distrust him, the Portuguese be jealous of him, but here was a man who would have no race prejudices – a man after his own heart, whom he could trust.
"You wish to see the wonders of the ocean world?" he asked.
"Yes, and I can write, and whatever I may do, and wherever I may go, I will always be true to you – the heart of Pigafetta will always be loyal to the Admiral!"
"My Italian Chevalier, you may embark with me to see the wonders of the ocean world. You shall follow my lantern."
From that hour the young Italian lived in anticipation. What new lands would he see, what palm islands, what gigantic men and strange birds, and inhabitants of the sea?
The young Knight of Rhodes had spoken truly, whatever light might fail, his heart would ever be true to the Admiral.
So the Knight embarked with the rude crew to follow, in the silences of uncharted seas, the lantern of Magellan.
He composed on the voyage a narrative for Villiers de l'Isle Adams, Grand Master of Rhodes. By this narrative we are still able to follow in fancy the lantern of Magellan through the straits that now bear the name of Magellan, to the newly discovered Pacific, and around the world.
His character was as spirited as Magellan's was noble.
We will sail with him in our voyage around the world, for he went all the way and bore the news of Magellan's triumphs to Seville again.
Beautiful Seville! We must glance at the city here. She was the pride of Spain in those times when Spain dazzled the world. The Hispal of the Phœnicians, the Hispales of the Roman conquest, and the Seville of the Moors! Her glory had arisen in the twilight of history, and had grown with the advancement of the race.
She was indeed beautiful at the time when Magellan was preparing for the sea. The Moorish period had passed leaving her rich in arts and treasures, and splendid architecture.
Situated on the banks of the Guadalquivir, circular in shape and surrounded with more than a hundred Moorish towers, and about ten miles in circumference, she rivaled the cities of Europe and of the Orient.
The great cathedral was being completed at that time, a mountain of art, arising from its plain of marble. It was four hundred and thirty-one feet long, and three hundred and fifteen feet wide, with solemn and grand arches lighted by the finest windows in Spain, perhaps the most enchanting lights through which the sun ever shone. The altars were enriched by the wealth of discovery.
Over this mountain of gold, marbles, and gems gleamed the Giralda, or weather vane, in the form of a statue, three hundred and fifty feet high.
Seville at this time was a city of churches. To these, sailors resorted while waiting for an expedition to complete its preparations for the sea, for most of them were good Catholics, and such as hoped for God's favor in the enterprise upon which they were about to enter.
Here, too, was the old Moorish palace, the Alcázar, with its delicate lacework like the walls of the Alhambra, but richer in color. In this palace was the Hall of the Ambassadors, one of the most enchanting apartments ever created by the genius of man.
In the latter dream of Moorish fancy have passed aching hearts, as well as those filled with wonder and delight. Here Pedro the Cruel received one of the kings of Granada, and murdered him with his own hand, to rob him of the jewels that adorned his person.
The tales of Pedro the Cruel haunted the city at this time.
We are told that this monarch used to go about the city in disguise.
One night he went out thus to serenade a beautiful lady. As he approached the balcony with his guitar where the lady lived, he saw another man there, who had come for the same purpose. The rival musician filled him with rage, and the King rushed upon him and struck him down and killed him.
He fled away. He reasoned that as he was in disguise no one could know him.
There was an old woman who kept a bakery across the way from the house where