Admiral as he mounted the steps of the great platform, where was
assembled the authority, the learning, the piety, the chivalry, and the
beauty of Spain to do him honor--honor to him who for eighteen years
had borne, with sublime courage and infinite patience, disappointment,
contumely, treachery, and ignominy. Now, at his approach, all rose, and
every head was uncovered. The loftiest height of glory was his; and yet
he remained undazzled, with a just pride before men, but with humility
before God, for Columbus was, first of all, a Christian.
This man Columbus, a foreigner and penniless, had, by his stupendous
genius and matchless courage, made Spain in one hour the greatest
and most powerful nation in the world. The boundless territory and
the incalculable riches with which Columbus had endowed the country
brought with them new duties, new problems, vast responsibilities,
and novel relations with all the countries of the known world. The
more this amazing discovery of Columbus was analyzed the greater
and deeper it appeared. Not only Spain, but the future of the human
race, was powerfully and inevitably affected by the revelation of a
new and mysterious world. These thoughts produced not only a sublime
exaltation, but a solemn and sobering effect upon the vast multitudes
assembled in Barcelona on that unforgettable day. Especially was this
true of the rulers of Spain. The expulsion of the Moorish invaders from
Spanish soil had been justly regarded as a splendid national triumph
and a great step forward in Christian civilization. To this was added
a triumph greater than any known to ancient Rome, beside which all
the acquisition of territory, all conquests of the world appeared
trivial. It was this sublime thought that paled the cheeks of the great
Queen Isabella, who, with eyes downcast upon her clasped hands, moved
her lips continually in silent prayer. King Ferdinand, soldier and
statesman, but cold and crafty, saw the vast achievement of Columbus
from a nobler point of view than ever before. Prince Juan, true son of
his mother, was, like her, pale and concentrated. It was more than the
brilliant sunrise of Spanish glory; it was the greatest earthly event
the world had ever known.
In the midst of a breathless silence Columbus advanced slowly and with
dignity. When he reached the foot of the throne he stopped, modestly
waiting for an invitation from his sovereigns to proceed further. The
Queen, in her eagerness, moved forward and, stooping, held out her
hand. Columbus ascended the throne and kneeled before the sovereigns.
The Queen, her hand still extended, raised him, saying:
"Welcome, Don Christobal Colon, our Admiral of the Ocean Seas, and
Viceroy and Captain-General of all Lands to the Westward. We give you
our thanks. So does all Spain."
Columbus bowed low, and King Ferdinand repeated the words of the Queen.
Then, at a signal, the Te Deum burst forth, singers and instruments
in a glorious outburst of music, the great organ from the open doors
of the cathedral swelling out in melodious thunder. The King and the
Queen and Columbus fell upon their knees, as did all present, and the
multitudes and throngs in the streets and the watchers and listeners
on land and sea. All remained kneeling while the majestic hymn of
thanksgiving was sung. When a solemn silence succeeded, Queen Isabella,
in a clear voice, gave thanks to God for the great discovery and asked
the blessing of the Almighty upon the new lands to the westward. A
deep and heartfelt amen surged from the lips and hearts of tens of
thousands of persons. The Queen and the King, and all present, then
rose from their knees and seated themselves, Columbus taking the seat
of honor prepared for him by the side of Queen Isabella. The King and
the Queen, after thanking him formally, desired him to give an account
of his voyage, which he modestly recounted. When this was over, the
procession passed before the sovereigns of those who had been upon the
voyage, the Indians that had been brought back, the strange birds and
animals and plants, Columbus briefly explaining them.
It was long past noon before the great ceremonies were finished, and
the glittering assemblage rose to attend the magnificent banquet to
be given in honor of Columbus at the royal palace. As Diego walked
along, holding the hand of his little brother, his heart was almost
oppressed with the glory he had seen. He felt as if he had been
lifted into another and higher world for a time, and he yearned for
the simple and familiar things of life. When he passed Don Felipe in
the orderly assemblage, he looked toward his friend imploringly. Don
Felipe slipped his arm within that of Diego. Then Diego, glancing up,
saw the beautiful dark eyes of Doña Luisita fixed upon him with soft
brilliance. The tempest in his heart was calmed, his soul was soothed.
After all that he had known of distresses and of triumphs, of miseries
and of splendors, of poverty and of riches, of ignominy and of glory in
his short life, he had never lacked for love or friendship. Could they
remain his, life would be a glorious conflict, a splendid struggle to
the last, ending with the hope of love eternal.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Minor changes have been made to regularize hyphenation and to correct
obvious typesetters' errors; variant spellings have been retained.
Words and phrases that were typeset in the original book have been
shown with an underscore (_) before and after.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Son of Columbus, by Molly Elliot Seawell