CHAPTER XLIV
IT was Seville, and an inn there, and the Admiral of the Ocean-Sea laidin a fair enough room. His gout manacled him, and another sickness creptupon him, but he could think, talk and write, and at times, for serenityand a breath of pleasure, read. He was ever a reader.
About him, all day long, came people. They called themselves friends,and many were friends. But some used that holy word for robber-mask.Others were the idlest wonder-seekers, never finding wonder within,always rushing for it without. His heart, for all his much experience,or perhaps because of that, was a simple heart. He took them for whatthey said they were, for friends, and he talked of the Indies and allhis voyages past and to come, for he would yet find Ciguarre and retakethe Sepulchre.
He had not much money. All his affairs were tangled. Yet he restedAdmiral of the Ocean-Sea, and in name, at least, Viceroy of the Indies.He was much concerned over his mariners and others who had returned withhim to Spain. All their pay was in arrears. He wrote begging letters forthem, and with his sons forever in his mind, for himself. Don Diego, DonFernando, they were pleasant, able youths.
Fray Juan Perez came to Seville. He was worldly comfort, but ghostlycomfort too. The Admiral talked of Ciguarre and Jerusalem, but also nowof the New Jerusalem and the World-to-come.
Late in November, at Medina del Campo Santo died the Queen!
He told me a dream or a vision that day. There was, he said, a fair,tranquil shore, back of a fair, blue haven, and his wife and his mother,long dead, walked there in talk. Back of the shore rose, he said, a citywith wonderful strong walls and towers and a perpetual sweet ringingof church bells. It seemed to climb to one great palace and church, setabout with orchards, with many doves. The whole mounted like Monsalvat.The city seemed to be ready for some one. They were hanging outtapestries and weaving garlands and he heard musicians. Everywhere shonea light of gladness. He returned to the seashore, and walking with hiswife and mother, asked them about the city. They said that it was theQueen's City. Then, he said, he seemed to hear trumpets, and far on thehorizon made out a sail.--Then city and shore and all were gone, and itwas dark, starry night, and he was in the Azores, alone, with a staff inhis hand that he had drawn from the sea.
It was Fray Juan Perez who brought him news of her death. "QueenIsabella!" he said and turned to the wall and lay there praying.
One day there came to see him Amerigo Vespucci who sailing with Ojeda,knew Paria. They talked of that Vastness to the south. The Venetianthought it might be a continent wholly unknown alike to the ancients andthe moderns. "Known," answered the Genoese, "in the far, far past! Butunknown, I grant, for so long that it has become again new. All a NewWorld."
"How should we map it?" said the other. "Faith of God! I should like tosee the maps a hundred years from now!"
He had something to say of Sebastian Cabot who was finding northward forKing Henry of England. But laying a fine small hand upon the Admiral'smighty one, he called him "_magister et dominus_, ChristopherusColumbus."
Winter wore away. With the spring he seemed to be better in health.He left his bed. But the physician, Juan Lepe, believed that ports andhavens, new lands, and service of an order above this order were evennow coloring and thrilling within.
When all spring was singing high, the Admiral, having had a letter fromthe king, said he would go to court. His sons would have had him travelin a litter, but he waved that away. The Adelantado procured him a mule,and with his sons and brother and a small train beside he started, theKing being at Segovia. He had a hardly scraped together purse of gold,and all his matters seemed dejected. Yet his family riding with himrode as nobles of Spain, and his son, Don Diego, should one day becomeGovernor of Hispaniola. Earthly speaking, for all his feeling "All isvain!" he had made his family. Unlike many families so made, this onewas grateful.
On the road to Segovia, stayings, restings and meetings were cordialenough to him, for here flocked the people to see the Discoverer. Ifthey heard his voice they were happy; if some bolder one had a moment'sspeech with him that fortunate went off with the air of, "My children'schildren shall know of this!" There returned in this springtide travelsunniness, halcyon weather, bright winds of praise. The last health ofthe present body was his upon this journey. Health and strength harkedback. All noted it. Jayme de Marchena held it for the leap of the flamebefore sinking, before leaving the frame of this world. But his sons andDon Bartholomew cried, "Why, father, why, brother, you will outlive usyet!"
He rode firmly; he looked about with bright, blue-gray eyes; his voicehad the old, powerful thrill. It was happiness to him when the simplecame crowding, or when in some halt he talked with two or three or witha solitary. The New Lands and the Vast Change, and it would affect allour life, this way, that way and the other way.
But when we came to Segovia, the King was dead, not alive, toChristopherus Columbus. Not dead to the Indies, no! But dead to theirold discoverer. We had chilly weather, miserable, and all the buds ofpromise went back. Or rather there were promises, cold smiles, but evenhe, the Genoese, saw at last that these buds were _simulacra_, nevermeant to bloom.
The Queen was gone. The Court wore the King's color. Then the King wentto Laredo to meet his daughter Juana, who was now Queen of Castile. Withhim went all of importance. Segovia became a dull and somewhat hostilewater where rode at last anchor the ship of the Admiral.
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