Christopher Columbus

Spain, as every one knows, was the country behind the discovery of America. Few people know, however, what an important part the beautiful city of Granada played in that famous event. It was in October, 1492, that Columbus first set foot on the New World and claimed it for Spain. In January of that same year another territory had been added to that same crown; for the brave soldier-sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, had conquered the Moorish kingdom of Granada in the south and made it part of their own country.

Nearly eight hundred years before, the dark-skinned Moors had come over from Africa and invaded the European peninsula which lies closest to the Straits of Gibraltar, and the people of that peninsula had been battling fiercely ever since to drive them back to where they came from. True, the Moor had brought Arabian art and learning with him, but he had brought also the Mohammedan religion, and that was intolerable not only to the Spaniards but to all Europeans. No Christian country could brook the thought of this Asiatic creed flourishing on her soil, so Spain soon set to work to get rid of it.

This war between the two religions began in the north near the Bay of Biscay whither the Christians were finally pushed by the invaders. Each century saw the Moors driven a little farther south toward the Mediterranean, until Granada, where the lovely Sierra Nevadas rise, was the last stronghold left them. Small wonder, then, that when Granada was finally taken the Spanish nation was supremely happy. Small wonder that they held a magnificent fete in their newly-won city in the "Snowy Mountains." The vanquished Moorish king rode down from his mountain citadel and handed its keys to Ferdinand and Isabella. Bells pealed, banners waved, and the people cheered wildly as their victorious sovereigns rode by.

And yet, so we are told by a writer who was present, in the midst of all this rejoicing one man stood aside, sad and solitary. While all the others felt that their uttermost desire had been granted in acquiring the Moorish kingdom, he knew that he could present them with a far greater territory than Granada if only they would give him the chance. What were these olive and orange groves beside the tropic fertility of the shores he longed to reach, and which he would have reached long ere this, he told himself regretfully, if only they had helped him! What was the Christianizing of the few Moors who remained in Spain compared with the Christianizing of all the undiscovered heathen across the Atlantic!

And so on that eventful January 2, 1492, when a whole city was delirious with joy,

"There was crying in Granada

when the sun was going down,

Some calling on the Trinity-

some calling on Mahoun.

Here passed away the Koran-there

in the Cross was borne-

And here was heard the Christian bell-

and there the Moorish horn."

On that great day of jubilee one man, a stranger, but as devout a

Christian as any of the conquerors, stood apart downcast, melancholy,

saddened by years of fruitless waiting for a few ships. That man was

Christopher Columbus.

When you know that Columbus was present by special invitation, that a friend of the queen's had secured him the promise of an interview with full consideration of his plans just as soon as the city surrendered, you may think he should have looked happy and hopeful with the rest; but the fact was, that for nearly seven years the monarchs had been holding out promises, only to put him off, until his faith in princes had dwindled to almost nothing.

But, as it happened, they really meant it this time. Moreover, it is only fair to Ferdinand and Isabella to believe that they had always meant it, but they had been so preoccupied with the enormous task of welding poor Spain, long harassed by misrule and war, into a prosperous nation, that they had neither time nor money for outside ventures. Certain it is that when Granada was really conquered and they had their first respite from worry, the man who was known at court as the "mad Genoese" was summoned to expound his plan of sailing far out into the west where he was certain of finding new lands.

Where this meeting took place is not known positively, but probably it was in the palace called the Alhambra, a marvelous monument of Arabian art which may be visited to-day. Columbus stood long in the exquisite audience chamber, pleading and arguing fervently; then he came out dejected, mounted his mule, and rode wearily away from Spain's new city; for Spain, after listening attentively to his proposals, had most emphatically refused to aid him. It was surely a sorry reward, you will say, for his six years' waiting. And yet the man's courage was not crushed; he started off for France, to try his luck with the French king.

This is what had happened at the Spanish court. The great navigator talked clearly and convincingly about the earth being round instead of flat as most people still supposed; and how, since Europe, Asia, and Africa covered about six sevenths of the globe's surface, and the Atlantic Ocean the remaining seventh (here he quoted the prophet Esdras), [Footnote: "Upon the third day thou didst command that the waters should be gathered in the seventh part of the earth. Six parts hast thou dried up and kept them to the intent that of these some being planted of God and tilled might serve thee.... Upon the fifth day thou saidst unto the seventh part where the waters were gathered that it should bring forth living creatures, fowls and fishes, and so it came to pass." Apocrypha, 2 Esdras vi. 42, 47.] any one by sailing due west must surely come to land. So clear was his own vision of this land that he almost saw it as he spoke; and his eloquence made his hearers almost see it too. One after another they nodded their approval, and approval had never before been won when he addressed a Spanish audience. But when Archbishop Talavera, who was spokesman for King Ferdinand, asked the would-be discoverer what reward he expected in case his voyage was successful, the answer was so unexpected that nearly every man in the room was indignant.

This answer is worth looking into carefully if one is to understand why the Spanish nobility thought that Columbus drove a hard bargain. He demanded of their Highnesses,

First: That he should be made Admiral over all seas and territories he might discover, the office to continue for life and to descend to his heirs forever, with all its dignities and salaries.

Second: That he should be made Viceroy and Governor-General of all new territories, and should name the officers under him.

Third: That he should have one tenth part of all merchandise, pearls, precious stones, gold, silver, or spices acquired by trade, discovery, or any other method.

Fourth: That if any controversy or lawsuit should arise over such goods, he or his officer should be the only judge in the matter.

Fifth: That in fitting out all expeditions for trade or discovery he should be allowed to furnish one eighth of the cost and receive one eighth of the profit.

On these conditions and no others would Christopher Columbus undertake his perilous journey into unknown seas; and the grandees of Spain walked indignantly away from him.

"Lord High Admiral!" murmured one. "An office second only to royalty! This foreigner demands promotion over us who have been fighting and draining our veins and our purses for Spain this many a year!" "Governor-General with power to select his own deputies!" murmured another. "Why, he would be monarch absolute! What proof has he ever given that he knows how to govern!" "One tenth of all goods acquired by trade or any other method," protested still another. "What other method has he in mind?-robbery, piracy, murder, forsooth? And then, when complaints of his 'other method' are made, he alone is to judge the case! A sorry state of justice, indeed!"

Now, when you see this from the Spaniards' point of view, can you not understand their indignation? Yet Columbus, too, had cause for indignation. True, these soldiers of Spain had risked much, but on land, and aided by powerful troops. He was offering to go with a few men on a small ship across a vast unexplored sea; and that seemed to him a far greater undertaking than a campaign against the Moors. His position was much like that of the modern inventor who resents having the greater part of the profits of his invention given to those who promote it. Columbus's friends, the few men who had encouraged him and believed in him ever since he came to Spain, begged him to accept less, but he was inflexible. He was prepared to make the biggest journey man had ever dreamed of, and not one iota less would he take for it. But no such rewards would Talavera promise, and thus ended the interview for which Columbus had waited nearly seven years!

And so he rode away from the lovely Moorish city, weary and dejected, yet hoping for better treatment when he should lay his plans before the French king. His ride took him across the fertile Vega (plain) of Granada and into a narrow mountain pass where the bleak Elvira Range towers three thousand feet above the road. But smiling plain and frowning mountain were alike to the brooding traveler. He noticed neither; nor, when he started across the ancient stone bridge of Pinos, did he notice that horsemen were galloping after him. They were Queen Isabella's messengers sent to bid the bold navigator return. They overtook him in the middle of the bridge, and then and there his trip to France ended.

The queen, they told him, would accept his terms unconditionally. And Isabella kept her word. The next time Christopher Columbus rode forth from Granada it was not with bowed head and heavy heart, but with his whole soul rejoicing. We may be sure that he turned back for a last affectionate look at the lovely mountain city; for it had given him what historians now call "the most important paper that ever sovereign put pen to, "-a royal order for the long-desired ships and men with which to discover "lands in the west."

Having seen how that great event in Spanish history, the fall of Granada, set the date for the discovery of America, let us see how it was that a humble Italian sailor came to be present among all those noble Spanish soldiers and statesmen. Let us see why he had brought to Spain the idea of a round world, when most Spaniards still believed in a flat one; and why his round world was perfectly safe to travel over, even to its farthest point, while their flat one was edged with monsters so terrible that no man had ever sought their evil acquaintance.

[Illustration: From "The Story of Columbus" by Elizabeth L. Seelys, courtesy of D. Appleton and Company. THE GENOA HOME]

The amount of really reliable information which we possess concerning the childhood of Christopher Columbus could be written in a few lines. We do not know accurately the date of his birth, though it was probably 1451. Sixteen Italian cities have claimed him as a native; and of these Genoa in northern Italy offers the best proofs. Papers still exist showing that his father owned a little house there. Men who have studied the life of Columbus, and who have written much about him, say that he was born in the province, not the city, of Genoa; but Columbus himself says in his diary that he was a native of Genoa city; and present-day Genoese have even identified the very street where he was born and where he played as a child-the Vico Dritto di Ponticello. In the wall of the house in which he is believed to have lived is placed an iron tablet containing an inscription in Latin. It tells us that "no house is more to be honored than this, in which Christopher Columbus spent his boyhood and his early youth."

More important than the exact spot of his birth would be a knowledge of the sort of childhood he passed and of the forces that molded his character. To learn this we must look into the condition of civilization, and particularly of Italian civilization, in the middle sixteenth century.

Columbus was born in a brilliant period known now as the Renaissance-a French word meaning re-birth-which marks the beginning of modern history. It followed a long, painful period known to us as the Dark Ages, or Middle Ages, namely, the period between ancient and modern times. In the Middle Ages humanity was very ignorant, hampered by all sorts of evil superstitions; while the daily life of the people was miserable and without comforts, lacking many things which we consider necessities. Yet even in those far-away days things were improving, because man has always felt the desire to make his lot better; and the constant effort of these people of the Middle Ages led to that beautiful awakening which we call the Renaissance.

One of the first glimmers of this new life may be said to have come from the Crusades. The Europeans who had journeyed down into Asia to drive the Mohammedans, or Saracens, out of the Holy Land, came back impressed with the fact that these infidel Asiatics had more refinement and courtesy than Christian Europe knew. The returning Crusaders introduced some of this refinement into their own countries, and it caused people to abandon some of their rude ways. Of course there were many more influences working toward the great awakening, principally the growth of commerce. All Europe became alive with the desire for progress; many new things were invented, many old ones perfected; and before the Renaissance ended it had given us some wonderful discoveries and achievements-paper and printing; the mariner's compass; an understanding of the solar system; oil painting, music, and literature; and lastly, the New World.

Why, then, if it brought all these arts and inventions and discoveries, do we not call it the birth, instead of the re-birth? Because many of the beautiful elements of the Renaissance, such as art, science, and poetry, enjoyment of life, freedom to investigate and study nature- all these had existed in the days of ancient Greece and Rome; but after the fall of Roman civilization it took the barbarian peoples of other portions of Europe a long, long time to grow civilized, and to establish some sort of order out of their jumbled affairs; and while they were slowly learning lessons of government and nationality, the culture of the antique world was lost sight of. When it was found again, when young men wished to learn Latin and Greek so that they could read the long- neglected books and poetry of the ancients, human life was made much richer and happier.

This desire came first to the people of Italy. It was very natural, for ancient Rome, where great learning had last flourished, was in Italy; furthermore, the Italian peninsula, jutting out into the much-navigated Mediterranean, was full of seaports, to which came vessels with the merchandise, the language, and the legends of other countries; and when we learn of other countries, we broaden our ideas.

Add to Italy's favorable geographical position the fact that her people were unusually quick of intellect, and were gifted with great imagination, and you will see how natural it was that the Renaissance should have started there. Also, you will see why the great discoverer was a very natural product of Italy and its Renaissance.

* * * * *

Genoa, like other large Italian cities, was teeming with this new spirit of investigation and adventure when Cristoforo Colombo (in his native land his name was pronounced Cristof'oro Colom'bo) was born there or first came there to live. Long before, Genoa had taken an active part in the Crusades, and every Genoese child knew its story. It had carried on victorious wars with other Italian seaports. It had an enormous commerce. It had grown rich, it was so full of marble palaces and churches, and it had such a glorious history, that its own people loved to call it Genova la Superba (Superb Genoa).

Although Cristoforo's family were humble people of little or no education, the lad must have had, or made, many opportunities for acquiring knowledge. Probably he made them; for, as a boy in those days generally followed his father's trade, Cristoforo must have spent a good deal of time in "combing" wool; that is, in making the tangled raw wool ready for weaving. Perhaps he was sent to school, the school supported by the "Weavers' Guild." But between working at home and going to school, he evidently made many little trips down to the busy wharves.

Was there ever any spot more fascinating than the wharves in olden days -in that far-off time when there were no books to read, and when a boy's only chance of hearing about other countries was to go and talk to the crew of each vessel that came into port? The men to whom our lad talked had sailed the whole length and breadth of the biggest body of explored water, the Mediterranean. Some had gone farther east, into the Black Sea; and still others-bravest of all-had passed beyond the Straits of Gibraltar and out on to the great unknown ocean. It was to these last, we may be sure, that the adventurous boy listened most eagerly.

Those hardy sailors were the best possible professors for a boy who intended to follow the sea. They were, doubtless, practical men who never talked much about the sea-monsters and other nonsense that many landsmen believed in; nor did they talk of the world being flat, with a jumping-off place where the sun set. That belief was probably cherished by men of book-learning only, who lived in convents and who never risked their lives on the waves. Good men these monks were, and we are grateful to them for keeping alive a little spark of learning during those long, rude Middle Ages; but their ideas about the universe were not to be compared in accuracy with the ideas of the practical mariners to whom young Cristoforo talked on the gay, lively wharves of Genova la Superba.

Many years after Columbus's death, his son Fernando wrote that his father had studied geography (which was then called cosmogony) at the University of Pavia. Columbus himself never referred to Pavia nor to any other school; nor was it likely that poor parents could afford to send the eldest of five children to spend a year at a far-off university. Certain it is that he never went there after his seafaring life began, for from then on his doings are quite clearly known; so we must admit that while he may have had some teaching in childhood, what little knowledge he possessed of geography and science were self-taught in later years. The belief in a sphere-world was already very ancient, but people who accepted it were generally pronounced either mad or wicked. Long before, in the Greek and Roman days, certain teachers had believed it without being called mad or wicked. As far back as the fourth century B.C. a philosopher named Pythagoras had written that the world was round. Later Plato, and next Aristotle, two very learned Greeks, did the same; and still later, the Romans taught it. But Greece and Rome fell; and during the Dark Ages, when the Greek and Roman ideas were lost sight of, most people took it for granted that the world was flat. After many centuries the "sphere" idea was resurrected and talked about by a few landsmen, and believed in by many practical seamen; and it is quite possible that the young Cristoforo had learned of the theory of a sphere-world from Genoese navigators even before he went to sea. Wherever the idea originated is insignificant compared with the fact that, of all the men who held the same belief, Columbus alone had the superb courage to sail forth and prove it true.

Columbus, writing bits of autobiography later, says that he took to the sea at fourteen. If true, he did not remain a seafarer constantly, for in 1472-73 he was again helping his father in the weaving or wool- combing business in Genoa. Until he started on his famous voyage, Columbus never kept a journal, and in his journal we find very little about those early days in Genoa. While mentioning in this journal a trip made when he was fourteen, Columbus neglects to state that he did not definitely give up his father's trade to become a sailor until 1475. Meanwhile he had worked as clerk in a Genoese bookshop. We know he must have turned this last opportunity to good account. Printing was still a very young art, but a few books had already found their way to Genoa, and the young clerk must have pored over them eagerly and tried to decipher the Latin in which they were printed.

At any rate, it is certain that in 1474 or 1475 Cristoforo hired out as an ordinary sailor on a Mediterranean ship going to Chios, an island east of Greece. In 1476 we find him among the sailors on some galleys bound for England and attacked by pirates off the Portuguese Cape St. Vincent.

About Columbus's connection with these pirates much romance has been written,-so much, indeed, that the simple truth appears tame by comparison. One of these two pirates was named Colombo, a name common enough in Italy and France. Both pirates were of noble birth, but very desperate characters, who terrorized the whole Mediterranean, and even preyed on ships along the Atlantic coast. Columbus's son, Fernando, in writing about his father, foolishly pretended that the discoverer and the noble-born corsairs were of the same family; but the truth is, one of the corsairs was French and the other Greek; they were not Italians at all. Fernando further says that his father was sailing under them when the battle off Cape St. Vincent was fought; that when the vessels caught fire, his father clung to a piece of wreckage and was washed ashore. Thus does Fernando explain the advent of Columbus into Portugal. But all this took place years before Fernando was born.

What really appears to have happened is that Columbus was in much more respectable, though less aristocratic, company. It was not on the side of the pirates that he was fighting, but on the side of the shipowner under whom he had hired, and whose merchandise he was bound to protect, for the Genoese galleys were bound for England for trading purposes. Some of the galleys were destroyed by the lawless Colombo, but our Colombo appears to have been on one that escaped and put back into Cadiz, in southern Spain, from which it later proceeded to England, stopping first at Lisbon. This is a less picturesque version, perhaps, than Fernando's, but certainly it shows Columbus in a more favorable light. Late the next year, 1477, or early in 1478, Cristoforo went back to Lisbon with a view to making it his home.

Besides this battle with corsairs, Columbus had many and varied experiences during his sea trips, not gentle experiences either. Even on the huge, palatial steamships of to-day the details of the common seaman's life are harsh and rough; and we may be sure that on the tiny, rudely furnished, poorly equipped sailboats of the fifteenth century it was a thousand times harsher and rougher. Then, too, the work to be done in and around the Mediterranean was no occupation for children; it quickly turned lads into men. Carrying cargo was the least of a shipowner's business; he was more often hiring out vessels and crews to warring kings, to Portuguese who carried on a slave trade, or to fight pirates, the dread of the Mediterranean. Slaves rowed the Mediterranean galleys, and in the bow stood a man with a long lash to whip the slaves into subjection. With all these matters did Christopher Columbus become acquainted in the course of time, for they were everyday matters in the maritime life of the fifteenth century; but stern though such experiences were, they must have developed great personal courage in Christopher, a quality he could have none too much of if he was to lead unwilling, frightened sailors across the wide unknown sea.

By moving from Genoa to Lisbon, Columbus found himself in a much better atmosphere for developing into a discoverer. The genius of a discoverer lies in the fact that he yearns for the unknown; and Portugal faced the Atlantic Ocean, that immense unexplored "Sea of Darkness" as it was then called. Italy, as we know, was the greater country, but it faced the Mediterranean, and every nook and corner of the Mediterranean were known and explored.

For any man thirsting to learn more about geography and exploration, there was no more vital spot in Europe than Lisbon in the fifteenth century. Why it was so is such an interesting story that it must be told. We have read how zealously the Spaniards had been striving for centuries to drive out the Moors, whom they considered the arch enemies of Christian Europe. Portugal, being equally near to Africa, was also overrun by Moors, and for ages the Portuguese had been at war with them, finally vanquishing them early in Columbus's century. A wise Portuguese prince then decided on a scheme for breaking their power utterly; and that was to wrest from them their enormous trade with Arabia and India; for their trade made their wealth and their wealth was their power.

This trade was known as the Indian trade, and was carried on by overland caravans up through Asia and Northern Africa to the Mediterranean coasts. The goods brought into Europe by this means-gold, pearls, spices, rare woods-naturally set Europe to thinking that the lands producing them must be the most favored part of the world, and "the Indies" stood for wealth of all kinds. No one knew precisely where "the Indies" lay; no one knew about the Indian Ocean or the shape of Southern Africa; "the Indies" was simply an indefinite term for the rich and mysterious regions from which the caravans came.

The old maps of the fifteenth century show three different countries of this name-Far India, beyond the Ganges River; Middle India, between the Ganges and the Indus; and Lesser India, including both sides of the Red Sea. On the African side of the Red Sea was located the legendary kingdom of a great monarch known as Prester John. Prester is a shortening of Presbyter, for this John was a Christian priest as well as a king. Ever since the twelfth century there had been stories circulated through Europe about the enormously wealthy monarch who ruled over a vast number of Christians "in the Indies." At first Prester John's domain was supposed to be in Asia; later the legends shifted it over to Africa, Abyssinia probably; and it was with this division of "India" that the Portuguese Prince Henry hoped to establish a trade; not, at first, by rounding Africa and sailing up its east coast to Abyssinia, but by merely cruising down the coast of Western Africa till Abyssinia's Atlantic shores were reached; for so vague was the geography of that far-away day that Abyssinia was supposed to stretch from Ethiopia to the Atlantic. "If," reasoned Prince Henry, "my sailors can feel their way down Africa till they come to Prester John's territory, not only could our nation secure the rich trade which now goes to the Moors, but we could form a treaty with the African Christians and ask them to come to Europe and help us should the Moors ever again advance against us." This plan was approved by Pope Nicholas V., who sanctioned Prince Henry's enterprise in the hope of "bringing the people of India, who are reputed to honor Christ, to the aid of European Christians against Saracens and other enemies." This projected exploration of the African coast by "Henry the Navigator" was the whole foundation for the mistaken statements that Christopher Columbus was trying to find "a sea route to India." Prince Henry was trying to find a sea route to an African India which he supposed lay about where Guinea lies; and as for Christopher, he never undertook to find either this African India, nor the true Asiatic India; he only promised the Spanish sovereigns that he would find "lands in the west."

Having straightened out the long-lived confusion about "the short route to India," let us see how Prince Henry went to work. Northern or Mediterranean Africa was well known to Europe, but not the Atlantic coast. There was an ancient belief that ships could not enter tropic seas because the intensely hot sun drew up all the water and left only the slimy ooze of the bottom of the ocean. Cape Nun, of Morocco, was the most southerly point of Africa yet reached; and about it there was a discouraging saying,

"Who pass Cape Nun

Must turn again or else be gone."

Prince Henry, who was called the "Protector of Studies in Portugal," did not believe that rhyme, and determined to show how foolish and untrue it was. His first step was to establish an observatory and a school for navigation at Cape St. Vincent, the most westerly point of Europe and the most southwesterly point of Portugal. To this observatory the prince invited the most learned astronomers, geographers, and instrument-makers then living, that they might all work together with him; and from the little fishing village of Sagres, close to his great observatory, he sent out sailors who, according to an old writer, "were well taught in all rules which sailors ought to know, and provided with the best instruments for navigation."

These expeditions began fifty years before Columbus came to Lisbon. Most of them sailed south; out there had always been legends of lands in the west, so westward some of them sailed and found the Azores and the Madeira Islands. These last had been known to English navigators more than a century before, but as England sent no people to occupy and claim them, Portugal took possession of them.

How the ownership of all newly-found portions of the globe came to be determined is worth looking into. Ever since the time of the Crusades it was recognized as right that any European Christian ruler might seize the land and property of any Asiatic infidel. If two or three Christian rulers united to seize Mohammedan territory and were victorious, the Pope was to decide which one should own it. But the Crusades were unsuccessful, and so the question of ownership of land outside of Europe never came up until Prince Henry sent out his discoverers. Then, in order to make Portugal's claim very sure to whatever she might find, Pope Martin V. issued an order that all land which might be discovered between Cape Bojador (on the most southerly point of the Morocco coast) and the Indies should belong to Portugal, no matter what navigator discovered it. This was in 1479. Naturally, when his turn came to navigate, Columbus would not be interested in taking the Portuguese path, since, by papal order, he would have to turn over to Portugal whatever he might discover.

But to return to Prince Henry. His successes began in 1422 when a Portuguese captain pushed past the high promontory of Cape Nun and did not "turn again" till he had gone far enough to see that the Southern Atlantic was as full of water as the Northern. After that these brave people kept sailing farther and farther south, down past Guinea and the mouth of the Congo, always asking for the India of Prester John; but the savage blacks at whose coasts they touched had never heard of it. Finally Bartholomew Dias rounded the Cape of Good Hope and proved that the African India had no Atlantic coast; and he also proved that there existed a southern hemisphere of great possibilities. Then the question of reaching Asiatic India by sea loomed large in the Portuguese mind. Vasco da Gama, following Dias around the Cape of Good Hope, crossed the Indian Ocean and at last cast anchor in the dazzlingly rich city of Calcutta, the real India.

This last did not happen, however, till 1498, six years after Columbus discovered America. Long before this time the good Prince Henry had died; and though he did not live to learn of this sea route to India, he died knowing that the Madeiras and the Azores existed out in the open sea, while Africa stretched far south of the Equator. His devotion to navigation had imbued his countrymen with great enthusiasm, and placed little Portugal at the head of European nations in maritime matters. Not only did she discover how to sail to India, but to Siam, Java, China, and Japan as well.

From Prince Henry's day, Lisbon became the city where all men interested in the fascinating study of geography wished to dwell, in order that they might exchange ideas with navigators and get employment under the Crown. We can readily understand why Lisbon was a magnet to the ambitious Christopher Columbus; and we may feel sure that had the brave, intelligent "Protector of Studies in Portugal" been still alive when Columbus formed his plan for discovery, the intrepid discoverer would have been spared those weary years of waiting. He would have found America ten years sooner, and it would have been the Portuguese, and not the Spanish, flag that he would have carried westward to the New World.

Our young Genoese is supposed to have sailed to Iceland and even farther into the Polar regions, probably after continuing that trip to Bristol which the pirates interrupted off Cape St. Vincent. Many writers consider that it was in Iceland where he heard rumors of "land in the west." If the Iceland trip really was made, Christopher may indeed have heard the story; for long before, Icelanders, and Norsemen also, had discovered America.

These discoveries, as we now believe, took place in the far-away eleventh century; but they made no impression on Europeans of that time, because Iceland and Scandinavia were not in touch with other European countries. Civilization then had the Mediterranean for its center, and no one in Southern Europe ever heard of what the Icelanders or the Norsemen were doing. But these northern peoples did not entirely lose sight of their discoveries, for they sang about them from century to century in quaint and beautiful ballads called sagas. It was not until after Columbus revealed the west to European eyes that these sagas were published; nevertheless, it is not improbable that, if Columbus landed in Iceland, some inhabitant who knew the story of the far western country told it to him. He never refers to it in his writings, however, and one cannot help thinking that, if it really was true, he would have mentioned it, at least to those whom he was trying to persuade to help him. The only reference he ever made to the northern voyage is when writing his journal in 1492, where he states,

"I have seen all the Levant (where the sun rises); and the Ponent (where the sun sets); I have seen what is called The Northern Way, and England; and I have sailed to Guinea."

Columbus's elder brother, Bartholomew, who was a map-maker and a serious student of geography, also settled in Lisbon. The two either opened a book-and-map shop, or at least they worked in one at odd times, Christopher acting as a draftsman; for, as he himself quaintly expressed it, "God had endowed me with ingenuity and manual skill in designing spheres, and inscribing upon them in the proper places cities, rivers and mountains, isles and ports." He appears to have tried to earn a little money by commerce as well as by map-making. We have no exact record of this, but it is thought that he borrowed capital for trading purposes from rich Genoese merchants settled in Lisbon, and lost it. This we conclude because, in his will, he ordered certain sums to be paid to these merchants, without mentioning why. That he tried to add to the small profits of map-making by trading with sea captains is not surprising. We can only be sorry that he did not make a handsome profit out of his ventures, enough for himself and for those who lent him capital.

We have mentioned that all the men who had a scientific interest in navigation tried to get to Lisbon. Among those whom Columbus may have met there, was the great German cosmographer from Nuremburg, Martin Behaim. Martin helped to improve the old-fashioned astrolabe, an instrument for taking the altitude of the sun; more important still, toward the end of 1492 he made the first globe, and indicated on it how one might sail west and reach Asiatic India. This is the first record of that idea which was later attributed to Columbus, but which Columbus himself, until his return from his first voyage of discovery, never even mentioned. Whether he and Martin Behaim talked together about the route to India we shall never know. Probably they did not; for when Christopher importuned later for ships, it was only for the purpose of discovering "lands in the west" and not for finding a short route to India. Columbus, though he knew how to draw maps and design spheres, really possessed but little scientific knowledge. Intuition, plus tenacity, always did more for him than science; and so it is likely that he talked more with sailors than with scientists. While he may have known the learned Behaim, certain it is that, from his earliest days in Lisbon, he sought the society of men who had been out to the Azores or to Madeira; men who told him the legends, plentiful enough on these islands, of lands still farther out toward the setting sun, that no one had yet ventured to visit.