and from all he could learn from the maps of his father-in-law and the
books which he read, and from the long talks which he had with some
other learned men, he grew more and more certain that the world was
round like an orange, and that by sailing westward from the coast of
Portugal one could gradually go round the world and find at last the
wonderful land of _Cathay_, the strange country which lay far beyond the
sea, the accounts of which had so thrilled him as a boy.
We, of course, know that he was right in his belief concerning the shape
of the earth, but people in those days laughed him to scorn when he
spoke of making a voyage out on the vast and fearful ocean. In vain he
talked and reasoned and argued, and drew maps to explain matters. The
more he proved to his own satisfaction that this must be the shape of
the world, the more other people shook their heads and called him crazy.
He remembered in his readings of the book of Marco Polo's travels that
the people whom he had met were heathen who knew little about the dear
God who had made the world, and nothing at all about His son, Christ
Jesus, and as Christopher Columbus loved very dearly the Christian
religion, his mind became filled with a longing to carry it across the
great seas to this far-away country. The more he thought about it the
more he wanted to go, until his whole life was filled with the one
thought of how to get hold of some ships to prove that the earth was
round, and that these far-away heathens could be reached.
Through some influential friends he obtained admission to the court of
the King of Portugal. Eagerly he told the rich monarch of the great
enterprise which filled his heart. It was of little or no use, the King
was busy with other affairs, and only listened to the words of Columbus
as one might listen to the wind. Year after year passed by, Columbus'
wife had died, and their one little son, Diego, had grown to be quite a
boy. Finally Columbus decided he would leave Portugal and would go over
to Spain, a rich country near by, and see if the Spanish monarchs would
not give him boats in which to make his longed-for voyage.
The Spanish King was named Ferdinand, and the Spanish Queen was a
beautiful woman named Isabella. When Columbus told them of his belief
that the world was round, and of his desire to help the heathen who
lived in this far-off country, they listened attentively to him, for
both King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were very earnest people and very
desirous that all the world should become Christians; but their
ministers and officers of state persuaded them that the whole thing was
a foolish dream of an enthusiastic, visionary man; and again Columbus
was disappointed in his hope of getting help.
Still he did not give up in despair. _The thought was too great for
that._ He sent his brother over to England to see if the English King
would not listen to him and give the necessary help, but again he was
doomed to disappointment. Only here and there could he find any one who
believed that it was possible for him to sail round the earth and reach
the land on the other side. Long years passed by. Columbus grew pale and
thin with waiting and hoping, with planning and longing.
Sometimes as he walked along the streets of the Spanish capital people
would point their fingers at him and say: "There goes the crazy old man
who thinks the world is round." Again and again Columbus tried to
persuade the Spanish King and Queen that if they would aid him, his
discoveries would bring great honor and riches to their kingdom, and
that they would also become the benefactors of the world by helping to
spread the knowledge of Christ and His religion. Nobody believed in his
theory. Nobody was interested in his plan. He grew poorer and poorer.
At last he turned his back on the great Spanish court, and in silent
despair he took his little son by the hand and walked a long way to a
small seaport called Palos, where there was a queer old convent in which
strangers were often entertained by the kind monks who lived in it.
Weary and footsore he reached the gate of the convent. Knocking upon it
he asked the porter, who answered the summons, if he would give little
Diego a bit of bread and a drink of water. While the two tired travelers
were resting, as the little boy ate his dry crust of bread, the prior of
the convent, a man of thought and learning, whose name was Juan Perez,
came by and at once saw that these two were no common beggars. He
invited them in and questioned Columbus closely about his past life. He
listened quietly and thoughtfully to Columbus and his plan of crossing
the ocean and converting the heathen to Christianity.
Juan Perez had at one time been a very intimate friend of Queen
Isabella; in fact, the priest to whom she told all her sorrows, and
troubles. He was a quiet man and talked but little. After a long
conference with Columbus, in which he was convinced that Columbus was
right, he borrowed a mule and getting on his back rode for many miles
across the open country to the palace in which the Queen was then
staying. I do not know how he convinced her of the truth of Columbus'
plan, when all the ministers and courtiers and statesmen about her
considered it the absurdly foolish and silly dream of an old man; but,
somehow, he did it.
He then returned on his mule to the old convent at Palos, and told
Columbus to go back once more to the court of Spain and again petition
the Queen to give him money with which to make his voyage of discovery.
The State Treasurer said the Queen had no money to spare, but this
noble-hearted woman, who now, for the first time, realized that it was a
grand and glorious thing Columbus wished to do, said she would give her
crown jewels for money with which to start Columbus on his dangerous
journey across the great ocean.
This meant much in those days, as queens were scarcely considered
dignified or respectable if they did not wear crowns of gold inlaid
with bright jewels on all public occasions, but Queen Isabella cared far
more to send the gospel of Christ over to the heathen than how she might
look, or what other people might say about her. The jewels were pawned
and the money was given to Columbus. With a glad heart he hastened back
to the little town of Palos where he had left his young son with the
kind priest Juan Perez.
But now a new difficulty arose. Enough sailors could not be found who
would venture their lives by going out on this unknown voyage with a
crazy old man such as Columbus was thought to be. At last the convicts
from the prisons were given liberty by the Queen on condition that they
would go with the sailors and Columbus. So, you see, it was not
altogether a very nice crew, still it was the best he could get, and
Columbus' heart was so filled with the great work that he was willing to
undertake the voyage no matter how great or how many the difficulties
might be. The ships were filled with food and other provisions for a
long, long voyage.
Nobody knew how long it would be before the land on the other side could
be reached, and many people thought there was no possible hope of its
ever being found.
Early one summer morning, even before the sun had risen, Columbus bade
farewell to the few friends who had gathered at the little seaport of
Palos to say good-bye to him. The ships spread their sails and started
on the great untried voyage. There were three boats, none of which we
would think, nowadays, was large enough or strong enough to dare venture
out of sight and help of land and run the risk of encountering the
storms of mid-ocean.
The names of the boats were the Santa Maria, which was the one that
Columbus himself commanded, and two smaller boats, one named the Pinta
and the other the Nina.
Strange, indeed, must the sailors have felt, as hour after hour they
drifted out into the great unknown waters, which no man ever ventured
into before. Soon all land faded from their sight, and on, and on, and
on they went, not knowing where or how the voyage would end. Columbus
alone was filled with hope, feeling quite sure that in time he would
reach the never before visited shores of a New World, and would thus be
the means of bringing the Christian religion to these poor, ignorant
people. On and on they sailed, day after day--far beyond the utmost
point which sailors had ever before reached.
Many of the men were filled with a strange dread and begged and pleaded
to return home. Still on and on they went, each day taking them further
and further from all they had ever known or loved before. Day after day
passed, and week after week until two months had elapsed.
The provisions which they had brought with them were getting scarce, and
the men now dreaded starvation. They grew angry with Columbus, and
threatened to take his life if he did not command the ships to be turned
back towards Spain, but his patience did not give out, nor was his faith
one whit the less. He cheered the hearts of the men as best he could.
Often telling them droll, funny stories to distract their thoughts from
the terrible dread which now filled all minds.
He promised a rich reward to the first man who should discover land
ahead. This somewhat renewed their courage, and day and night watches
were set and the western horizon before them was scanned at all hours.
Time and again they thought they saw land ahead, only to find they had
mistaken a cloud upon the horizon for the longed-for shore. Flocks of
birds flying westward began to be seen. This gave some ground for hope.
For surely the birds must be flying toward some land where they could
find food, and trees in which to build their nests. Still fear was great
in the hearts of all, and Columbus knew that he could not keep the men
much longer in suspense, and that if land did not appear soon they would
compel him to turn around and retrace his steps whether he wished to or
not.
Then he thought of all the benighted heathen who had never heard of
God's message of love to man through Christ, and he prayed almost
incessantly that courage might be given him to go on. Hour after hour he
looked across the blue water, day and night, longing for the sight of
land. In fact, he watched so incessantly that his eyesight became
injured and he could scarcely see at all.
At last one night as he sat upon the deck of the ship he was quite sure
that a faint light glimmered for a few moments in the distant darkness
ahead. Where there is a light there must be land, he thought. Still he
was not sure, as his eyesight had become so dim. So he called one of the
more faithful sailors to him and asked him what he saw. The sailor
exclaimed:
"A light, a light!"
Another sailor was called, but by this time the light had disappeared
and the sailor saw nothing, and Columbus' hopes again sank. Still he
felt they must be nearing land. About 2 o'clock that night the commander
of one of the other boats started the cry:
"Land! land ahead!"
You can well imagine how the shout was taken up, and how the sailors,
one and all, rushed to the edge of their ships, leaning far over, no
doubt, and straining their eyes for the almost unhoped-for sight.
Early the next morning some one of the sailors picked up a branch of a
strange tree, lodged in the midst of which was a tiny bird's nest. This
was sure evidence that they were indeed near land, for branches of trees
do not grow in water.
Little by little the land came in sight. First it looked like a dim
ghost of a shore, but gradually it grew distinct and clear. About noon
the next day the keel of Columbus' boat ground upon the sand of the
newly discovered country. No white man had ever before set eyes upon it.
No ship had ever before touched this coast.
At last after a long life of working and studying, of hoping and
planning, of trying and failing, and trying yet again, he had realized
his dream.
The great mystery of the ocean was revealed, and Columbus had achieved a
glory which would last as long as the world lasted. _He had given a new
world to mankind!_ He had reached the far distant country across the
ocean, which scarcely any of his countrymen had even believed to have
any existence. He now _knew_ that the whole round world could in time
have the Christian religion.
He sprang upon the shore, and dropping on his knees he first stooped and
kissed the ground, and then he offered a fervent prayer of thanks to
God.
A learned attorney who had come with him across the water next planted
the flag of Spain upon the unknown land, and claimed the newly
discovered country in the name of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of
Spain.
Wonderful, wonderful indeed were the things which Columbus and the
sailors now saw! Strange naked men and women of a copper, or bronze
color, strange new birds with gorgeous tails that glittered like gems
such as they had never seen before; beautiful and unknown fruits and
flowers met their gaze on every side.
The savages were kind and gentle and brought them food and water. They
had little else to offer as they had no houses, nor streets, nor
carriages, nor cars, nor conveniences of any kind. Do you know, my dear
children, that this strange, wild, savage country which Columbus had
traveled so far and so long to discover was _our country, America_?
But it was not long until after Columbus had gone back to Europe and
told the people there of the wonderful things which he had seen in this
far, far away land that ship-loads of white people, who were educated
and who had been taught to love God and to keep his commandments, came
over and settled in this wild, new country. They plowed the land and
planted seed; they built houses for themselves, their wives and little
ones, and in time they made school-houses for the children, and churches
in which to worship God. Long and hard was the struggle which these
first white men had to make in this strange, new country.
Year after year more and more white men came. These new settlers
prospered, and new towns were built, and roads were made from one town
to another, and stores and manufactories began to be seen.
At last the little handful of people had grown so strong that they
established a government of their own, which welcomed all newcomers,
providing they were law-abiding citizens. The poor and oppressed, the
persecuted and discouraged in other lands came to this new shore, where
they found wealth if they were willing to work for it.
Here they need no longer fear the persecutions from which they had
suffered. Here they gained new hope and became honored and respected
citizens.
Little by little the small country grew into a great nation, the
greatest on earth, because it is the freest, and each citizen in it has
his rights respected. But for the courage and determination and
self-sacrifice of Columbus this great new world might have remained for
hundreds of years unknown to men.
Four hundred years afterwards the children of the children's children of
these early settlers, had a grand celebration in honor of the brave old
man, Christopher Columbus, whom the people of his day called crazy, and
all the nations of the earth were invited to bring their most
beautiful, their richest and rarest products to this celebration, in
order that not we of America alone, but _the whole world might celebrate
the wisdom and the courage of the great Columbus_, "_the finder of
America_."
In the rejoicing and in the celebration the nations did not forget the
good Queen Isabella, who was willing to give up her most precious jewels
in order that she might help Columbus in his voyage of discovery.
_A STORY OF DECORATION DAY FOR THE LITTLE CHILDREN OF TO-DAY._
I want you to listen to a sad, sweet story to-day, and yet one that
ought to make you glad,--glad that such men have lived as those of whom
I am going to tell you. It all happened a good many years ago, in fact
so long ago that your fathers and mothers were little boys and girls in
kilts and pinafores, some of them mere babies in long clothes.
One bright Sunday morning in April the telegraph wires could be heard
repeating the same things all over the land, "Tic, tic; tictic; t-i-c;
tic, tictic;--tic, t-i-c, tic; t-i-c; tic, t-i-c; t-i-c, t-i-c, tic,"
they called out, and the drowsy telegraph operators sat up in their
chairs as if startled by the words the wires were saying.
"Tic, t-i-c, tic; tictic; tic, tictic; tic; t-i-c, tictic;--tic, tic;
t-i-c, tic," continued the wires and the faces of the telegraph
operators grew pale. Any looker-on could have seen that something
dreadful was being told by the wires.
"Tic, t-i-c, tic; tictic; tic, tictic; tic; t-i-c, tictic;--tic, tic;
t-i-c, tic," again repeated the wires. There was no mistaking the
message this time. Alas, alas, it was true! The terrible news was true!
Even the bravest among the operators trembled.
Then came the rapid writing out of the fearful words that the slender
wires had uttered, the hurrying to and fro; and messenger boys were seen
flying to the great newspaper offices, and the homes of the mayors of
the cities, and to the churches where already the people were beginning
to assemble. For the deep-toned Sabbath church bells high up in the
steeples had been ringing out their welcome to all, even the strangers
in their midst--"Bim! Baum! Bim!" they sang, which everybody knew meant,
"Come to church, dear people! Come! Come! Come!" And the people strolled
leisurely along toward the churches,--fathers and mothers and little
ones, and even grandfathers and grandmothers. It was such a bright,
pleasant day that it seemed a joy to go to the house of God and thank
Him for all His love and care. So one family after another filed into
their pews while the organist played such soft, sweet music that
everybody felt soothed and quieted by it.
Little did they dream of the awful words which the telegraph wires were
at that very moment calling out with their "Tic, t-i-c, tic; t-i-c; tic,
t-i-c; t-i-c, t-i-c, tic;--Tic, t-i-c, tic, tictic, tic, tictic; tic;
t-i-c; tictic."
The clergymen came in and took their places in the pulpits. In each
church the organ ceased its wordless song of praise. The congregation
bowed and silently joined with all their hearts in the petitions which
the clergyman was offering to the dear Lord, Father of all mankind,
Ruler of heaven and earth. Some of them softly whispered "Amen" as he
asked protection for their homes and their beloved country. Did they
know anything about the danger which even then hung over them? Perhaps
they did.
In many of the churches the prayer was over, the morning hymn had been
sung, when a stir and bustle at the door might have been noticed, as the
messenger boys, excited and out of breath, handed their yellow envelopes
to the ushers who stood near the door ready to show the late comers to
unoccupied seats. First one and then the other ushers read the message,
and from some one of them escaped in a hushed whisper, the words, "Oh
God! Has it come to this!"
And all looked white and awe-struck. The head usher hurried tremblingly
down the aisle, and without waiting for the clergy man to finish reading
the announcements of the week, laid the telegram upon the pulpit desk.
The clergyman, somewhat surprised at such an interruption, glanced at
the paper, stopped, gasped, picked it up, and re-read the words written
upon it, as though he could not believe his own eyes. Then he advanced a
step forward, holding on to the desk, as if he had been struck a blow by
some unseen hand. The congregation knew that something terrible had
happened, and their hearts seemed to stop beating as they leaned forward
to catch his words.
"My people," said he in a slow, deliberate tone, as if it were an effort
to steady his voice, "I hold in my hand a message from the President of
the United States." Then his eyes dropped to the paper which he still
held, and now his voice rang out clear and loud as he read, "_Our Flag
has been fired upon! Seventy-five thousand troops wanted at once._
Abraham Lincoln."
* * * * *
I could not make you understand all that took place the next week or two
any more than the little children who heard what the telegram said,
understood it. Men came home, hurried and excited, to hunt up law
papers, or to straighten out deeds, saying in constrained tones to the
pale-faced women, "I will try to leave all business matters straight
before I go." There was solemn consultations between husbands and wives,
which usually ended in the father's going out, stern-faced and silent,
and the mother, dry-eyed but with quivering lips, seeking her own room,
locking herself in for an hour, then coming out to the wondering
children with a quiet face, but with eyes that showed she had been
weeping. There were gatherings in the town halls and in the churches and
school houses all over the land. The newspapers were read hurriedly and
anxiously.
And when little Robert looked up earnestly into his Grandmamma's face
and asked, "Why does Mamma not eat her breakfast?" Grandmamma replied,
"Your Papa is going away, my dear;" and when little Robert persisted,
by saying, "But Papa goes to New York every year, and Mamma does not sit
and stare out of the window, and forget to eat her breakfast." Then
Mamma would turn solemnly around and say, "Robert, my boy, Papa is going
to the war, and may never come back to us. But you and I must be brave
about it, and help him get ready." And if Robert answered, "Why is he
going to the war? Why does he not stay at home with us? Doesn't he love
us any more?" then Mamma would draw her boy to her and putting her arms
around him, and looking into his eyes, she would say, "Yes, my darling,
he loves us, but he _must_ go. Our country needs him, and you and I must
be proud that he is ready to do his duty." Then Robert would go away to
his play, wondering what it all meant, just as you would have wondered
if you had been there.
Soon the Papas and Uncles, and even some of the Grandfathers, put on
soldiers' uniforms, and drilled in the streets with guns over their
shoulders, and bands of music played military music, and the drums beat,
and crowds of people collected on the street corners, and there were
more speeches, and more flags, and banners, and stir, and excitement.
And nothing else was talked of but the war, the war, the terrible war.
Then came the marching away of the soldiers to the railway stations, and
then the farewells and cheers and waving of handkerchiefs and the
playing of patriotic airs by the bands of music, and much more confusion
and excitement and good-bye kisses and tears than I could tell you of.
* * * * *
Then came the long, long days of waiting and praying in the homes to
which fathers and brothers no longer came, and silent watching for
letters, and anxious opening of the newspapers, and oftentimes the
little children felt their Mamma's tears drop on their faces as she
kissed them good-night,--their dear Mamma who so often had sung them to
sleep with her gay, happy songs,--what did it all mean? They could not
tell.
And all this time the fathers, brave men as they were, had been marching
down to the war. Oftentimes they slept on the hard ground with only
their army blankets wrapped around them, and the stars to keep watch
over them, and many a day they had nothing to eat but dry bread and
black coffee, because they had not time to cook more, and sometimes
they had no breakfast at all because they must be up by day-break and
march on, even if the rain poured down, as it sometimes did, wetting
them through and through. What were such hardships when _their country
was in danger_?
Then came the terrible, terrible battles, more awful than anything you
ever dreamed of. Men were shot down by the thousands, and many who did
not lose their lives had a leg shot off, or an arm so crushed that it
had to be cut off. Still they bravely struggled on. It was for their
beloved country they were fighting, and for it they must be willing to
suffer, or to die.
Then a hundred thousand more soldiers were called for, and then another
hundred thousand, and still the bloody war continued. For four long
years it lasted, and the whole world looked on, amazed at such courage
and endurance.
* * * * *
Then the men who had not been killed, or who had not died of their
sufferings came marching home again, many, alas, on crutches, and many
who knew that they were disabled for life. But _they had saved their
country_! And that was reward enough for their heroic hearts. Though
many a widow turned her sad face away when the crowd welcomed the
returning soldiers, for she knew that her loved one was not with them,
and many little children learned in time that their dear fathers would
never return to them.
War is such a terrible thing that it makes one's heart ache to think of
it.