of the same tribe, where they were hospitably received and were fed by
the brown-skinned inhabitants. But they moved onward, sailed westward,
and soon anchored near one of the mouths of the Orinoco River, where
was a large village close to the sea, the inhabitants of which regaled
the mariners with three different kinds of wine, and presented them
with eleven large pearls, more than a hundred smaller ones, and a small
quantity of gold. Here the navigators remained seventeen days, feasting
upon fruits and the savory acorns with which the place abounded.
Then they continued along the coast, stopping occasionally to hold
intercourse with the natives.
These, for the most part, were unfriendly, and the Spaniards had many a
battle with the South Americans.
Vespucci says: “Many times not more than sixteen of us fought with
two thousand of them, and, in the end defeated them, killing many
and robbing their houses. We were obliged to fight with a great many
people, but we always had the victory.”
Thus they progressed upon their way, fighting, trading, exploring,
until their stock of provisions became so nearly exhausted that it
was impossible for them to proceed further. Their ships, too, were
sea-worn and leaky, so that the pumps could scarcely keep them free
from water.
Other Spanish adventurers had founded a city called Hispaniola, not
long before this, situated upon the eastern coast of Panama. The Ojeda
expedition was now about three hundred and sixty miles from the point,
but it was decided to sail thither in order to repair the ships and
secure food, such as Europeans were accustomed to. After a voyage of
several weeks, the Spanish caravels anchored in the harbor of the city
founded by their countrymen, where they remained for two months.
Refreshed by their stay at Hispaniola, the Spaniards now cruised for
some time among the numberless small islands north of Hayti, but the
provisions which they had secured soon began to give out; they were
reduced to six ounces of bread and three small measures of water a
day for each man; and the ships began to leak again, in spite of all
the caulking which had been done at Hispaniola. The leaders of the
expedition, therefore, decided to capture some slaves for the purpose
of selling to wealthy grandees in Spain, and to return home.
This harsh resolution was well carried out. Two hundred and thirty-two
unfortunate natives were torn from their island home and their
pleasant, indolent life, and were taken on board the ships. It was a
dastardly thing to do, but men in these times were like the German
invaders of Belgium in ours,—they were brutes. The prows of the four
caravels were now turned towards Spain, and, after an uneventful
voyage, they arrived at their place of departure, June 8th., 1500,
after an absence of about thirteen months. Of the fifty-seven men who
had set out upon the expedition, two had been killed by the Indians,
the rest returned home. Thirty-two of the slaves died upon the journey
across the Atlantic, the rest were sold to the Spanish grandees.
Amerigo wrote freely of the journey to South America and his letters
had a wide circulation, for he was the first newspaper correspondent:
the forerunner of the modern Richard Harding Davis-es and Frank G.
Carpenters. By means of these epistles he gained a wide celebrity and
his name became more closely connected with the New World than that of
Columbus. Such being the case, it is no wonder that people began to
call these new possessions after the man who wrote so graphically of
what he had seen there. Amerigo Vespucci told of a land which came to
be known as the land of Americus, or America. It should really have
been called Columbia, after Christopher Columbus, but Columbus did not
happen to have the facility for writing interesting letters.
Amerigo, greatly pleased with what he had accomplished, was resting
quietly at Seville, when an invitation came from the King of Portugal
to have him visit him, and, when he arrived at Lisbon, the King had
much to say to him.
“Would he undertake another expedition to the new world under the
Portuguese banner?” Yes, he would.
No sooner said than done. On May 13th, 1501, Vespucci left on another
journey with three armed caravels. They ran south, touched at the
Canary Islands, and then, through fierce and violent tempests, plowed
towards the coast of South America. This they reached at length, and,
coasting southward, frequently landed on the shore, where they had
intercourse with the natives, most of whom were cannibals.
Here the Spaniards remained for several months, then, having found
no minerals of value in the country, although there was a great
abundance of valuable woods of every kind, they decided to return
to Portugal. All the vessels were stocked with food and with water
for six months, their prows were turned eastward, and, bidding the
cannibals of South America a fond adieu, the explorers headed for home.
After a stormy passage, and, after a voyage of fifteen months, the
adventurous navigators again sailed into the harbor of Lisbon, where
they were received with much joy. Florence received the accounts of the
discoveries of her illustrious son with much pride, and honors were
bestowed upon those members of his family who lived in the city of the
Arno.
Amerigo Vespucci was now a popular idol. He had been the discoverer of
the method of obtaining longitude at sea, by observing the conjunction
of the moon with one of the planets, and his observations and
enumeration of the stars in the southern heavens were of great value
to mariners who came after him. He was far in advance of most other
learned men of the age in his knowledge of the sciences of astronomy
and geometry.
Believing that Amerigo would have reached India by way of the
southwest, had not his last voyage been interrupted by the severe
storm which he had encountered, the King of Portugal lost no time in
fitting out another expedition. Six vessels were therefore prepared,
Amerigo being placed in command of one of them, and recognized as the
scientific authority of the squadron. The fleet set sail again for that
country of which all Europe was talking and speculating.
This expedition was similar to those which preceded it. The vessels met
with severe storms; saw cannibals, brightly plumaged birds, and islands
of palm groves and chattering parrots. The Spaniards built a fortress
upon one of the many harbors which they entered; then, as all but one
ship had been lost by shipwreck, the vessel which Vespucci commanded
sailed back to Lisbon, arriving on June 18th., 1504. He was received as
one risen from the dead, for the whole city had given him up for lost.
Thus ended the last voyage of the famous Florentine. Perhaps
disheartened by the unfortunate result of his cruise, he abandoned
the idea of again going to sea, and devoted himself to writing an
account of what he had already accomplished. Although younger by four
years than Columbus, when the great Admiral had set sail upon his
first voyage to the unknown West, Amerigo decided to rest upon laurels
already won, and to never again tempt fame and fortune in an expedition
to the shores of South America. He spent his declining years in writing
a full and graphic account of his many expeditions to the New World,
and, on February the twenty-second, 1512, the spirit of the astronomer
and geographer passed to a better sphere.
For many years after its discovery there seems to have been no effort
to give a name to the New World; indeed, it was so long supposed to
be a part of Asia that this was thought to be unnecessary. In a Latin
book, printed at Strassburg, Germany, in 1509—the work of an Italian
called Ilacomilo—it was suggested that the country be called America,
as it was discovered by Amerigo (Americus).
Not in the lifetime of the great Vespucci was this name so used. As
late as the year 1550, North America was called Terra Florida on the
Spanish maps, while Brazil was the name given to the coast of South
America, where much dye-wood was obtained; the title coming from the
Portuguese word _braza_, meaning live coal, or glowing fire. Both the
names of America and Brazil were applied to the shore of South America,
until, after a while, the second of these names was confined to that
part of the coast where the valuable dye-wood was obtained, while the
other name was attached to the part north and south of it. From this it
was but a short step to speaking of all of the great southern peninsula
as America, and gradually this name was given to the entire western
continent.
Somewhere in Spain or Italy, Amerigo Vespucci sleeps in an unknown
grave, but his epitaph is the name of a double continent: rich,
populous, teeming with all things valuable.
Of noble thought, splendid mind, and facile pen, the memory of the
great Florentine geographer should be revered and respected for all
time.
JUAN PONCE DE LEON:
DREAMER AND SEARCHER FOR THE FOUNTAIN OF PERPETUAL YOUTH.
(1460-1521)
_The tropic breeze fanned a fairy tale, a tale of the sheltering
palms,_
_Where the grimy sea cow sunned herself, in the bay where the
ground-swell calms._
_It sang a song of a fountain clear in the depth of the tropic glade,_
_Where the bubbles sparkle clear and cool, o’er the rocks of brown and
jade._
_It spoke of the waters healing, which to bathe in meant joyous
youth,_
_To the gray-haired and decrepit, with wrinkles and hollowed tooth._
_And the breeze came to the ears of men, who believed it to be no
lie._
_So the agéd De Leon chimeras chased, in the land where he was to
die._
JUAN PONCE DE LEON:
DREAMER AND SEARCHER FOR THE FOUNTAIN OF PERPETUAL YOUTH.
(1460-1521)
ONCE there lived in the island of Porto Rico, which became the property
of the United States in 1898, a Spanish Knight who had fought against
the Moors in Spain and who had helped to drive them from his native
country. His name was Juan Ponce de Leon, and he was rich in slaves, in
plantations, and in money.
The good knight was growing old. As he gazed in his mirror he saw that
his once coal-black beard was now silvered with gray, that his head was
not only bald, but also grizzled, and, as for his joints, well, he had
strange rheumatic pains when he bent over, and he did not leap out of
bed in the morning with the same spirit of enthusiasm that he had had
twenty years before.
It is no wonder that this wrinkled soldier gave eager ear to the
remarks of a native chieftain, Atamara, who one day said to the
gray-haired veteran:
“I see, good sir, that you are nearing a time when you will have to
bid farewell to all your earthly possessions, which will, I know, be
far from pleasing to you. If you sail to the westward, you will find a
fountain whose waters will restore the full vigor of youth. No matter
how old you may be, should you but drink of this marvelous spring, you
will be again twenty years of age. Your aches and pains will disappear,
and you will enjoy life even as you did when a stripling.”
Ponce de Leon pricked up his ears at this, and eagerly questioned the
chief concerning the direction which the fountain lay from the Isle of
Porto Rico.
“It lies towards the northwest,” said the Indian. “Here a man and a
woman, called Idona and Nomi, who had grown old together, came down
to drink. Filling a pearly shell which lay near the water, first Nomi
handed it to Idona, saying:
“‘Drink, my love, that I may know thou wilt not part from me forever,
for I have heard from the wind that this is a magic fountain where the
water has the power of returning one’s youth.’
“Idona drank, then turned and filled the cup for his mate. A marvel now
came to pass. There stood Nomi, beautiful as in her youth; garlanded,
too, with flowers as when Idona had first seen her, and facing her was
her lover in all the glory of his young manhood.
“And, because these two had been so faithful to their pledges and had
borne the pains of life so bravely together, the Spirit of the Earth
led them to her own home, where they dwelt happily ever afterwards.
“But once in twelve moons they come to the fountain to drink together
of its waters.
“This is the legend of the water,” concluded Atamara, “as it has been
known amongst us from a time so far away that our wise men cannot
measure it.”
Nowadays no one would give credence to such a legend, but those days
were different from the present. For had not hundreds of Spaniards
believed in the El Dorado, or gilded man, and had not they followed De
Soto in order to view him? So the Knight of Spain asked many questions
of Atamara concerning his knowledge of the land where was the Fountain
of Youth, and he learned enough to satisfy himself that many unexplored
islands and seas lay to the northward, which were only waiting for the
eyes of some venturesome Castilian. He still had an iron constitution,
built up by sound habits, military training, and temperate living; and
he felt that he was not yet too old to use his good sword to carve
out a greater dominion in new territories. On the other hand, he had
reached the downward turn of life so that this tale of the Fountain of
Youth appealed to him the more he pondered upon it; and he determined
to go and seek for this mysterious water, even as De Soto had sought
for the Gilded Man.
The King of Spain was quite ready to grant this knight permission to
discover, explore, and colonize the fabled land of which De Leon now
wrote him, and sent him a letter which ran as follows:
“To the Knight Don Juan Ponce de Leon. Inasmuch as you, Juan Ponce de
Leon, have sent and asked permission to go and discover the Island of
Biminin, in accordance with certain conditions herein stated, and in
order to confer on you this favor:
“We grant you that you may discover, explore, and colonize the said
island, provided that it be not heretofore discovered and under the
conditions herein stated, to wit:
“First, that you, Juan Ponce de Leon, take with you such ships as you
require for the discovery of the said island, and for the carrying
out of such projects. We grant you a period of three years, dating
from the day which you receive this document, with the understanding
that you are to set out on this voyage of discovery the first year,
also during your outward course you are privileged to touch at such
islands, or mainlands in the ocean, as yet undiscovered, provided they
do not belong to the King of Portugal, our much beloved son. Nor can
you take anything whatever save such articles as are required for your
sustenance, and the equipment of your ships, paying for them according
to value received.
“Moreover, to you, Ponce de Leon, in finding and discovering said
island, we accord the Governorship, also the administration of
justice, during your lifetime, and, to insure the privilege, we will
make your authority extend to the civil and criminal jurisdiction,
including every and all issues, and rights annexed.
“I order that the Indians be distributed among the people who make the
first discoveries, as they should receive the most advantages.
“Dated at Burgos, January 22nd., 1512.
“I, THE KING FERNANDO.
“Signed by the Bishop of Valencia.”
De Leon overhauled his caravels, accumulated stores of arms,
provisions, gifts, and trinkets of various kinds that would be suited
to the tastes of the Indians whom he should find in these lands which
he might discover, and arranged his home affairs. He had three caravels
in all, and three hundred sailors and soldiers. Besides these, were
several priests, for whose accommodation a chapel was built upon the
after deck of the _Dolores_, the largest vessel. All things were now
ready, and, bidding his good wife, the Dona Dolores, farewell, the
Spanish adventurer turned the prow of his flagship towards the west,
and sailed through azure seas, whose very fish were rainbow tinted, in
quest of the Fountain of Youth.
The air was balmy, scented with the sweet odors of fruits and flowers,
and fragrant with the spices of mango trees. The vessels drifted onward
from one fairy-like islet to another, at all of which they made a brief
stay, searching for that marvelous fountain of which the Indian had
spoken.
Brown-skinned natives came from the forests, bearing gifts of precious
stones, of fruit, and of beauteous flowers, for which they refused
any recompense. White beaches glistened in the tropic sunlight as if
their sands were polished grains of silver, and, as the caravels luffed
under the lee of some of these palm-studded isles, the sailors saw
quiet coves, shining like polished mirrors, into which crystal streams
gurgled with murmurs almost human.
The Castilians were charmed with the beautiful scenery, and many said:
“Surely in this land of peace and beauty there must be a Fountain of
perpetual Youth.”
So they kept onward towards the north, ever looking for the marvellous
water which was to turn their grizzled leader into a youth again.
The sailors gazed at the many birds which fluttered in the palms and
sometimes hovered near their ships. There were white egrets, or herons,
parroquets with green and yellow plumage, pink curlews, and flamingos
with scarlet feathers and long curved bills. There were great sea
turtles splashing in the shallows with huge, flabby feet, and gray
sharks which whirled about amidst the foam in eager search for their
prey.
Everywhere the natives were friendly, and, when asked if they knew
aught of the Fountain of Youth, would shake their heads. Vainly the
Spaniards drank of all the springs and the rivulets in these tropic
isles, for none seemed to possess the wonderful healing properties for
which they longed. The brown-skinned islanders knew little of Atamara’s
legend of the fountain, but they spoke of a great land lying far
beyond, where perhaps the wondrous water might be spouting. It was a
fine country, said they, called by the musical name of Florida.
One moonlight evening, as De Leon sat upon the high deck of his
caravel, when his vessels threaded a channel between two shadowy
islands upon the port and the starboard, suddenly, far, far in front
of him he beheld a brownish gray strip of country. It was an hour when
revery would take the form of dreams, and, fearing that the vision of
coast and headland, gulf, bays, palm trees and ports-of-refuge might be
some delusive vision of the brain, he turned to his companion, Perez de
Esequera, saying:
“Is it true that I view the shadowy sea-coast of some undiscovered
land? I see great bays, indentations, and projections. I believe, good
Perez, that we are nearing a shore from which many Spains, nay, all
of Europe might be carved and scarcely missed. Pray that the saints
shall guide us to the land of Bimini and to that wondrous fountain of
perpetual youth!”
“Indeed, good Knight,” replied his companion. “I, also, see this
vision. It may be a mirage, but I feel that soon we shall find this
country of which the natives tell. Let us be optimistic!”
Next day the vessels were headed towards the north, and, with a stiff
breeze filling the bellying canvas, made progress onward. During the
night, the sailors of De Leon’s caravel heard the distant booming
of breakers, and awakened their leader. The good knight called to
his sailing-master to make soundings, which showed that they were in
shallow water. So the anchors were let go, the sails were furled, and
the vessels lay waiting for the coming of the day.
Dawn reddened in the east, and, far to the north and south of the
anchorage, stretched a multitude of sand dunes. The surging billows of
the Atlantic threw white wisps of spray upon a long yellowish beach,
beyond which was a background of dark green forests. From the masthead
a sailor called out that he saw a winding river, coursing through
grassy marshes, which grew broad and green-gray as it reached the
ocean. It was Palm Sunday, March the 27th., 1512, so the Castilians
sang the Te Deum and, with ringing cheers, gave voice to their pleasure
in finding the fabled land of Florida.
When the vessels neared the beach, next day, the adventurers saw that
there was little here but a succession of sand hills. So the Spaniards
coasted along by the booming surf and at length reached a sheltered
bay which they called the Bay of the Holy Cross. Many native canoes
were seen disappearing into narrow creeks among the marshes, so it was
apparent that the Indians had no desire to become acquainted with these
strange mariners in the queer-shaped caravels. The ships anchored and
that night De Leon called his captains and lieutenants on board his
flag ship for counsel. It was decided that on the morning a landing
should be made, in force, and that formal possession should be taken of
this soil in the name of King Ferdinand of Spain.
The next morning was the second of April, a time when the foliage of
Florida is at its best. As day crept on, boats were lowered along
the sloping sides of the little caravels, which rapidly filled with
armored men upon whose greaves and breastplates the sunlight flashed
and gleamed with silvery reflections in the green-black water. Waving
plumes and crimson scarfs tossed in the morning breeze, while high
above all gleamed the golden cross borne by the Chaplain, good Father
Antonio. The commander had decreed that all should appear in the best
of armor and equipment so that the honor due the King of Spain by his
followers should be ample and sufficient.
The tide being full, the boats landed high up on the shore, Ponce De
Leon leading the way, and being the first to step upon the soil which
would thenceforth be his by decree of his Sovereign. Halting, the
cavalier waited for Father Antonio with his cross, before which, on
bended knee, he gave thanks to God for his great mercy in bringing him
safely to this goodly land.
Now all disembarked, and, while trumpets sounded and drums beat, formed
a procession headed by the priests, the cross, and Ponce de Leon with
his banner. Marching to the roll of drum and the blare of bugle, the
cavalcade went some distance up the beach to a spot where the priests
had erected the chapel altar, decorated with sacred emblems and votive
offerings. This was in the square of an Indian village. The golden
cross was placed in a position facing the morning sun and the soldiers
knelt in a semi-circle around it, as service was held to commemorate
this auspicious event.
Save for the deep booming of the sea, and the song of a mocking bird,
there was silence. The Indians peered at the strange sight from behind
trees and bushes in the neighboring forest, and, perceiving that the
fair-skinned strangers were engaged in some ceremony or proceedings,
they looked upon the crouching Spaniards with expressions of awe.
The mass was soon ended, and Ponce de Leon took formal possession of
the country in the name of his sovereign, proclaiming himself, by
virtue of the royal authority, Adelantodo of the Land of Florida. Then
a fanfare of trumpets rent the air, mingled with the cheers of the
soldiers.
A small stone pillar was now set up, which had been brought from Porto
Rico for that purpose, and upon which was carved a cross, the royal
arms, and an inscription reciting the discovery of Florida and its
possession by the Crown of Spain.
Although De Leon felt that he was really the first Spaniard to find
this country, such was really not the case, for the outline of the
peninsula is plainly drawn in an old map published in the year 1502.
To this discovery little attention seems to have been paid at the
time, for it was a period when explorers were most anxious to find
gold and pearls and there was nothing to fix particular attention to
this new coast. Thus Ponce de Leon’s vaunted first vision was really a
rediscovery of what an earlier and equally valiant Castilian had seen.
The Spaniards, who had landed, it seems, not far from the site of St.
Augustine, found, when they attempted to search for the Fountain of
Perpetual Youth, that the natives did not have quite as good an opinion
of their mission as they could wish.