Stood silent by themselves apart,
With nature's yearnings at their heart,
And saw the coast of fading blue
Wear soft and sadly from their view.
But soon by their new comrades cheer'd,
As o'er the waves the ship career'd,
Their wandering eyes aloft were cast
On white swoln sails and stately mast,
And checkering shrouds, depicted fair,
On azure sea and azure air;
And felt, as feels the truant boy,
Who, having climb'd some crumbling mound
Or ruin'd tower, looks wildly round
A thrilling, fearful joy.
Then with his two small barks again
The dauntless chief traversed the main ;
But not with fair and favouring gales
That erst had fill'd his western sails:
Fierce winds with adverse winds contended;
Rose the dark deep,-dark heaven descended;
And threaten'd, in the furious strife,
How, pressing close, they stood;
Look'd on Columbus with amaze,—
"Is he," so spake their wondering gaze,
"A man of flesh and blood ?"
While cannon far along the shore
His welcome gave with deafening roar.
XXIV.
And then with measured steps, sedate and slow
They to the Christian's sacred temple go.
Soon as the chief within the house of God
Upon the hallow'd pavement trod,
He bowed with holy fear :
"The God of wisdom, mercy, might,
Creator of the day and night,
This sea-girt globe, and every star of light,
Is worshipp'd here."
Then on the altar's steps he knelt,
And what his inward spirit felt,
Was said unheard within that cell
Where saintly thoughts and feelings dwell;
But as the choral chanters raise
Through dome and aisle the hymn of praise
To heaven his glistening eyes were turn'd,
The ships to sink with all their freight of precious With sacred love his bosom burn'd.
In this dread case, well may be guess'd
What dismal thoughts his soul depress'd:
"And must I in th' o'erwhelming deep,
Our bold achievement all unknown,
With these my brave adventurers sleep,-
What we have done to dark oblivion thrown?
Sink, body to thy watery grave,
If so God will; but let me save
This noble fruitage of my mind,
And leave my name and deeds behind!"
XXII.
Upon a scroll, with hasty pen,
His wondrous tale he traced,
View'd it with tearful eyes, and then
Within a casket placed.
"Perhaps," said he, "by vessel bound
On western cruise, thou wilt be found;
Or make, sped by the current swift,
To Christian shore they happy drift.
Thy story may by friendly eyes be read;
O'er our untimely fate warm tears be shed;
Our deeds rehearsed by many an eager tongue,
And requiems for our parted souls be sung."
This casket to the sea he gave ;
Quick sunk and rose the freightage light,-
Appear'd on many a booming wave,
Then floated far away from his still gazing sight.
Yet, after many a peril braved,-
Of many an adverse wind the sport,
He, by his great Preserver saved,
Anchor'd again in Palos' port.
O, who can tell the acclamation loud
That, bursting, rose from the assembled crowd
To hail the hero and his gallant train,
From such adventure bold return'd again!-
The warm embrace, the oft-repeated cheer,
And many a wistful smile and many a tear!-
On all the motley crowd
The generous impulse seized; high dons of pride Wept like the meekest beedsman by their side, And women sobb'd aloud.
Nor statesmen met in high debate
Deciding on a country's fate,
Nor saintly chiefs with fearless zeal
Contending for their churches' weal,
Nor warriors, midst the battle's roar,
Who fiercely guard their native shore ;-
No power by earthly coil possest
To agitate the human breast,
Shows, from its native source diverted,
Man's nature noble, though perverted,
So strongly as the transient power
Of link'd devotion's sympathetic hour.
It clothes with soft unwonted grace
The traits of many a rugged face,
As bend the knees unused to kneel,
And glow the hearts unused to feel;
While every soul, with holy passion moved,
Claims one Almighty Sire, fear'd, and adored, and
loved.
With western treasures, borne in fair display,
To Barcelona's walls, in grand array,
Columbus slowly held his inland way.
And still where'er he pass'd along,
In eager crowds the people throng.
The wildest way o'er desert drear
Did like a city's mart appear.
The shepherd swain forsook his sheep;
The goatherd from his craggy steep
Shot like an arrow to the plain;
Mechanics, housewives, left amain
Their broken tasks, and press'd beside
The truant youth they meant to chide:
The dull hidalgo left his tower,
The donna fair her latticed bower;
Together press'd, fair and uncouth,
All motley forms of age and youth.
And, still along the dark-ranged pile
Of clustering life, was heard the while
Mix'd brawling joy, and shouts that rung
From many a loud and deafening tongue.
Ah! little thought the gazing throng,
As pass'd that pageant show along,
How Spain should rue, in future times,
With desert plains and fields untill'd,
And towns with listless loiterers fill'd,
The withering spoil received from foreign climes !
Columbus gave thee, thankless Spain !
A new-found world o'er which to reign;
But could not with the gift impart
A portion of his liberal heart
And manly mind, to bid thee soar
Above a robber's lust of ore,
Proud was the don of high degree,
Whose honour'd guest he deign'd to be.
Whate'er his purposed service wanted,
With ready courtesy was granted:
No envious foe durst cross his will.
While eager shipwrights ply their skill,
To busy dockyard, quay, or port,
Priests, lords, and citizens resort:
Their wains the heavy planks are bringing,
And hammers on the anvil ringing;
The far-toss'd boards on boards are falling,
And brawny mate to work-mate calling:
The cable strong on windlass winding;
On wheel of stone the edge tool grinding;
Red fire beneath the caldron gleaming,
And pitchy fumes from caldron steaming
To sea and land's men too, I ween,
It was a gay, attractive scene;
Which hath a curse entail'd on all thy countless Beheld, enjoyed, day after day,
To Barcelona come, with honours meet
Such glorious deeds to grace, his sovereigns greet
Their mariner's return. Or hall,
Or room of state was deem'd too small
For such reception. Pageant rare!
Beneath heaven's dome, in open square,
Their gorgeous thrones were placed;
And near them on an humbler seat,
While on each hand the titled great,
Standing in dizen'd rows, were seen,
Priests, guards, and crowds, a living screen,―
Columbus sat, with noble mien,
With princely honours graced.
There to the royal pair his tale he told:
A wondrous tale, that did not want
Or studied words or braggart's vaunt;
When at their royal feet were laid
Gems, pearls, and plumes of many a shade,
And stores of virgin gold,
Whilst, in their feathered guise arrayed,
The Indians low obeisance paid.
And at that wondrous story's close
The royal pair with reverence rose,
And kneeling on the ground, aloud
Gave thanks to Heaven. Then all the crowd,
Joining, from impulse of the heart,
The banded priest's ecstatic art,
With mingled voice Te Deum sang;
With the grand choral burst, walls, towers, and
Till all his ships, in fair array,
Were bounden for their course at last,
And amply stored and bravely mann'd,
Bore far from blue, receding land.
Thus soon again, th' Atlantic vast
With gallant fleet he past.
By peaceful natives hail'd with kindly smiles,
He shortly touch'd at various pleasant isles;
And when at length her well-known shore appear'd,
And he to fair Hispaniola near'd,
Upon the deck, with eager eyes
Some friendly signal to descry,
He stood; then fired his signal shot,
But answering fire received not.
"What may this dismal silence mean?
No floating flag in air is seen,
Nor e'en the Tower itself, though well
Its lofty site those landmarks tell.
Ha! have they so regardless proved
Of my command ?-their station moved!"
As closer to the shore they drew,
To hail them came no light canoe ;
The beach was silent and forsaken:
Nor clothed nor naked forms appear'd,
Nor sound of human voice was heard;
Naught but the sea birds from the rock,
With busy stir that fluttering broke;
Sad signs,which in his mind portentous fears awaken.
XXXI.
Then eagerly on shore he went,
His scouts abroad for tidings sent;
But to his own loud echo'd cry
An Indian came with fearful eye,
Who guess'd his questions' hurried sound,
And pointed to a little mound,
Not distant far. With eager haste
The loosen'd mould aside was cast.
Bodies, alas! within that grave were found,
Which had not long been laid to rest,
Though so by changeful death defaced,
Nor form nor visage could be traced.-
In Spanish garments dress'd.
Back from each living Spaniard's cheek the blood
Ran chill, as round their noble chief they stood,
Who sternly spoke to check the rising tear.
"Eight of my valiant men are buried here;
Where are the rest ?" the timid Indian shook
In every limb, and slow and faintly spoke.
"Some are dead, some sick, some flown;
The rest are up the country gone,
Far, far away." A heavy groan
Utters the chief; his blanch'd lips quiver;
He knows that they are gone for ever.
But here 'twere tedious and unmeet
A dismal story to repeat,
Which was from mild Cazique received,
Their former friend, and half believed.
Him, in his cabin far apart,
Wounded they found, by Carib dart;
Received, said he, from savage foe
Spaniards defending. Then with accents low
He spoke, and ruefully began to tell,
What to those hapless mariners befell.
How that from lust of pleasure and of gold,
And mutual strife and war on Caribs made,
Their strength divided was, and burnt their hold,
And their unhappy heads beneath the still earth
laid.
Yet, spite of adverse fate, he in those climes
Spain's infant power establish'd; after-times
Have seen it flourish, and her sway maintain
In either world, o'er many a fair domain.
But wayward was his irksome lot the while,
Striving with malice, mutiny, and guile;
Yet vainly striving: that which most
His generous bosom sought to shun,
Each wise and liberal purpose crost,
Must now at Mammon's ruthless call be done.
Upon their native soil,
They who were wont in harmless play
To frolic out the passing day,
Must pine with hateful toil.
Yea; this he did against his better will; For who may stern ambition serve, and still
His nobler nature trust?
May on unshaken strength rely,
Cast fortune as she will her dye,
And say "I will be just ?"
Envy mean, that in the dark
Strikes surely at its noble mark,
Against him rose with hatred fell,
Which he could brave, but could not quell.
Then he to Spain indignant went,
And to his sovereigns made complaint,
With manly freedom, of their trust,
Put, to his cost, in men unjust,
And turbulent. They graciously
His plaint and plea received; and hoisting high
His famed and gallant flag upon the main,
He to his western world return'd again.
Where he, the sea's unwearied, dauntless rover,
Through many a gulf and strait, did first discover
That continent, whose mighty reach
From th' utmost frozen north doth stretch
E'en to the frozen south; a land
Of surface fair and structure grand.
There, through vast regions rivers pour,
Whose midway skiff scarce sees the shore;
Which, rolling on in lordly pride,
Give to the main their ample tide;
And dauntless then, with current strong,
Impetuous, roaring, bear along,
And still their separate honours keep,
In bold contention with the mighty deep.
There broad-based mountains from the sight
Conceal in clouds their vasty height,
Whose frozen peaks, a vision rare,
Above the girdling clouds rear'd far in upper air
At times appear, and soothly seem
To the far distant, up-cast eye,
Like snowy watch-towers of the sky,-
Like passing visions of a dream.
There forests grand of olden birth,
O'er-canopy the darken'd earth,
Whose trees, growth of unreckon'd time,
Rear o'er whole regions far and wide
A checker'd dome of lofty pride
Silent, solemn, and sublime.-
A pillar'd labyrinth, in whose trackless gloom, Unguided feet might stray till close of mortal doom.
There grassy plains of verdant green
Spread far beyond man's ken are seen,
Whose darker bushy spots that lie
Strew'd o'er the level vast, descry
Admiring strangers, from the brow
Of hill or upland steep, and show,
Like a calm ocean's peaceful isles,
When morning light through rising vapours smiles
O'er this, his last-his proudest fame,
He did assert his mission'd claim.
Yet dark, ambitious envy, more
Incensed and violent than before,
With crafty machinations gain'd
His royal master's ear, who stain'd
His princely faith, and gave it power
To triumph, in a shameful hour.
A mission'd gownsman o'er the sea
Was sent his rights to supersede,
And all his noble schemes impede,-
His tyrant, spy, and judge to be.
With parchment scrolls and deeds he came
To kindle fierce and wasteful flame.
Columbus' firm and dauntless soul
Submitted not to base control.
For who that hath high deeds achieved,
Whose mind hath mighty plans conceived,
Can of learn'd ignorance and pride
The petty vexing rule abide?
The lion trampled by an ass!
No; this all-school'd forbearance would surpass. Insulted with a felon's chain,
This noble man must cross the main,
From its vast bed profound with heaving throws The mighty waste of weltering waters rose.
And answer his foul charge to cold, ungrateful O'er countless waves, now mounting, now deprest,
By India's gentle race alone
Was pity to his suffering shown.
They on his parting wait,
And looks of kindness on him cast,
Or touch'd his mantle as he past,
And mourn'd his alter'd state.
"May the Great Spirit smooth the tide
With gentle gales, and be thy guide!"
And when his vessel wore from land,
With meaning nods and gestures kind
He saw them still upon the strand
Tossing their dark arms on the wind.
He saw them like a helpless flock
Who soon must bear the cruel shock
Of savage wolves, yet reckless still,
Feel but the pain of present ill.
He saw the fate he could not now control,
And groan'd in bitter agony of soul.
He trode the narrow deck with pain,
And oft survey'd his rankling chain.
The ship's brave captain grieved to see
Base irons his noble prisoner gall,
And kindly sued to set him free;
But proudly spoke the lofty thrall,
"Until the king whom I have served,
Who thinks this recompense deserved,
Himself command th' unclasping stroke,
These gyved limbs will wear their yoke.
Yea, when my head lies in the dust
These chains shall in my coffin rust.
Better than lesson'd saw, though rude,
As token, long preserved of black ingratitude!"
Thus pent, his manly fortitude gave way
To brooding passion's dark tumultuous sway.
Dark was the gloom within, and darker grew
Th' impending gloom without, as onward drew
Th' embattled storm that, deepening on its way,
With all its marshall'd host obscured the day.
Volume o'er volume, roll'd the heavy clouds,
And oft in dark, dim masses, sinking slow,
Hung in the nether air, like misty shrouds,
Veiling the sombre, silent deep below.
Like eddying snow-flakes from a lowering sky,
Athwart the dismal gloom the frighten'd sea-fowl fly.
Then from the solemn stillness round,
Utters the storm its awful sound.
It groans upon the distant waves;
O'er the mid-ocean wildly raves;
Recedes afar with dying strain,
That sadly through the troubled air
Conies like the wailings of despair,
And with redoubled strength returns again:
Through shrouds and rigging, boards and mast,
Whistles, and howls, and roars th' outrageous blast.
The ridgy surges swell with foaming crest,
Like Alpine barriers of some distant shore,
Now seen, now lost amidst the deafening roar ;
While, higher still, on broad and sweepy base,
Their growing bulk the mountain billows raise,
Each far aloft in lordly grandeur rides,
With many a vassal wave roughening his furrow'd sides.
Heaved to its height, the dizzy skiff
Shoots like an eagle from his cliff
Down to the fearful gulf, and then
On the swoln waters mounts again,-
A fearful way! a fearful state
For vessel charged with living freight!
Within, without, the tossing tempest's rage:
This was, of all his earthly pilgrimage,
The injured hero's fellest, darkest hour.
Yet swiftly pass'd its gloomy power;
For as the wild winds louder blew,
His troubled breast the calmer grew;
And, long before the mighty hand,
That rules the ocean and the land,
Had calm'd the sea, with pious reverence fill'd
The warring passions of his soul were still'd.
Through softly parting clouds the blue sky peer'd,
And heavenward turn'd his eye with better feel-
ings cheer'd.
Meek are the wise, the great, the good ;He sigh'd, and thought of Him, who died on holy rood.
No more the angry tempest's sport,
The vessel reach'd its destined port.
A town of Christendom he greets,
And treads again its well-known streets;
A sight of wonder, grief, and shame
To those who on his landing came.
And on his state in silence gazed,
"This is the man whose dauntless soul"-
So spoke their looks-" Spain's power hath raised
To hold o'er worlds her proud control!
His honour'd brows with laurel crown'd,
His hands with felon fetters bound!"
And he before his sovereign dame
And her stern lord, indignant came;
And bold in conscious honour, broke
The silence of his smother'd flame,
In words that all his inward anguish spoke.
The gentle queen's more noble breast
Its generous sympathy exprest;
And as his varied story show'd
What wrongs from guileful malice flow'd,
Th' indignant eye and flushing cheek
Did oft her mind's emotion speak.
The sordid king, with brow severe,
Could, all unmoved, his pleadings hear;
Save, that, in spite of royal pride,
Which self reproach can ill abide,
His crimson'd face did meanly show
Of conscious shame th' unworthy glow.
Baffled, disgraced, his enemies remain'd,
And base ambition for a time restrain'd.
With four small vessels, small supply
I trow! yet granted tardily,
For such high service, he once more
The western ocean to explore
Directs his course. On many an isle
He touch'd, where cheerly, for a while,
His mariners their cares beguile
Upon the busy shore.
And there what wiles of barter keen
Spaniard and native pass between ;
As feather'd crowns, whose colours change
To every hue, with vizards strange,
And gold and pearls are given away,
For bead or bell, or bauble gay!
Full oft the muttering Indian eyes
With conscious smile his wondrous prize,
Beneath the shady plantain seated,
And thinks he hath the stranger cheated;
Or foots the ground like vaunting child,
Snapping his thumbs with antics wild.
But if, at length, tired of their guests,
Consuming like those hateful pests,
Locusts or ants, provisions stored
For many days, they will afford
No more, withholding fresh supplies,
And strife and threatening clamours rise,-
Columbus' gentle craft pursues,
And soon their noisy wrath subdues.
Thus speaks the chief,-" Refuse us aid
From stores which Heaven for all hath made!
The moon, your mistress, will this night
From you withhold her blessed light,
Her ire to show; take ye the risk."
Then, as half frighten'd, half in jest,
They turn'd their faces to the east,
From ocean rose her broaden'd disk;
But when the deep eclipse came on,
By science sure to him foreknown,
How cower'd each savage at his feet,
Like spaniel couching to his lord,
Awed by the whip or angry word,
His pardon to entreat!
"Take all we have, thou heavenly man!
And let our mistress smile again!"
Or, should the ship, above, below,
Be fill'd with crowds, who will not go;
Again to spare more hurtful force,
To harmless guile he has recourse.
"Ho! gunner! let these scramblers know
The power we do not use:" when, lo!
From cannon's mouth the silvery cloud
Breaks forth, soft curling on the air,
Through which appears the lightning's glare,
And bellowing roars the thunder loud.
Quickly from bowsprit, shroud, or mast,
Or vessel's side the Indians cast
Their naked forms, the water dashing
O'er their dark heads, as stoutly lashing
The briny waves with arms out-spread,
They gain the shore with terror's speed.
Thus checker'd still with shade and sheen
Pass'd in the west his latter scene,
As through the oak's toss'd branches pass
Soft moonbeams, flickering on the grass;
As on the lake's dark surface pour
Broad flashing drops of summer shower:-
As the rude cavern's sparry sides
When past the miner's taper glides.
So roam'd the Chief, and many a sea
Fathom'd and search'd unweariedly,
Hoping a western way to gain
To eastern climes,--an effort vain;
For mighty thoughts, with error uncombined,
Were never yet the meed of mortal mind.
At length, by wayward fortune cross'd,
And oft-renew'd and irksome strife
Of sordid men,-by tempests tost,
And tired with turmoil of a wanderer's life,
He sail'd again for Europe's ancient shore,
So will'd high Heaven! to cross the seas no more.
His anchor fix'd, his sails for ever furl'd,
A toil-worn pilgrim in a weary world.
And thus the Hero's sun went down,
Closing his day of bright renown.
Eight times through breeze and storm he past
O'er surge and wave th' Atlantic vast;
And left on many an island fair
Foundations which the after care
Of meaner chieftains shortly rear'd
To seats of power, serv'd, envied, fear'd.
No kingly conqueror, since time began
The long career of ages, hath to man
A scope so ample given for trade's bold range,
Or caused on earth's wide stage such rapid, mighty
change.
He, on the bed of sickness laid,
Saw, unappall'd, death's closing shade;
And there, in charity and love
To man on earth and God above,
Meekly to heaven his soul resign'd,
His body to the earth consign'd.
'Twas in Valladolid he breathed his last,
And to a better, heavenly city pass'd;
But St. Dominga, in her sacred fane
Doth his blest spot of rest and sculptured tomb contain.
There burghers, knights, adventurers brave,
Stood round in funeral weeds bedight;
And bow'd them to the closing grave,
And wish'd his soul good night.
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