Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

THE COMING OF COLUMBUS. known. Slowly, steadily, by long hours of study and research; by patient tracing of maps and charts; by constant observation as he sailed; by conversation with mariners who had explored all known seas, he worked out a theory (to which his contemporaries replied with a roar of laughter), that the world was round, and that, by sailing due west, the shores of Asia would eventually be reached. Gradually, there dawned upon the mind of Columbus, ideas of other continents, not known to Europeans. He was eminently a religious man, and this colored all his thinking. "These lands," he said, "must be inhabited. Is it likely that the sun shines upon nothing, and the nightly watches of the stars are wasted on desert lands and trackless seas? God has assigned to me the mission of searching out these people and carrying them the Gospel of Salvation." His final resolve was quickened by a dream, in which it was whispered to him, "God will cause thy name to be wonderfully resounded thru the earth, and will give thee the keys of the gates of the oceans, which are closed with strong chains." Columbus was poor, unknown, and regarded by all as a half-crazed visionary. A project to visit the moon would seem far less absurd today than did this man's proposal to find the coast of Asia by sailing due west from Europe. For seventeen years he drifted from port to port, from court to court, propounding his theory and asking for aid to demonstrate it. Finally, he set out for Genoa, the home of his boyhood. But there he only experienced the sad truth of the old adage, "A prophet is not without honor, save in his own country." "Who is this Christopher Columbus?" it was asked. "Why, he is a sailor of this city," was the reply, "the son of Pominico Colombo, a wool-comber." This settled the question. He could not even obtain a respectful hearing. Hope still sustained him, however, and he decided to try his fortunes at the court of Spain. Ferdinand and Isabella, sovereigns of Spain, were then engaged in desperate warfare with the Moors. It was an unpropitious time. For seven weary years Columbus waited. When the Moorish banners were torn from the walls of the Alhambra and the flags of Spain floated there, Columbus presented himself before Queen Isabella. The time was auspicious. Elated by triumph, she responded eagerly to the dazzling vision of the grandeur which would redound to Spain if this expedition was successful. "I will pledge my jewels to raise the needed funds!" she exclaimed, enthusiastically. The star of the dreamer of Genoa had arisen. The Queen was prompt in action. Three small vessels, the Pinta, the Nina, and the Santa Maria, were immediately equipped for the voyage. To secure seamen for the cruise was a difficult matter, as the enterprise was considered perilous in the extreme, and almost sacriligious. After some delay, the boats were manned with one hundred and twenty men. On the third of August, 1492, just as the sun rose above the sparkling waters of the harbor of Palos, King and Queen, knights and ladies, courtiers and priests, marched with Columbus, in solemn procession, to the water's edge. Officers and crew, upon their knees, received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, amid the tears of the entire population of Palos. Then the little fleet spread its sails for the most momentous voyage in the world's history. The first part of the voyage passed pleasantly thru fair and familiar waters to the Canary Islands. But when, leaving these shores, they struck boldly out upon unknown seas, the hearts of the seamen became heavy witli fear. Discontented looks and murmuring words became frequent. As they struck the trade winds and were swept rapidly westward across the trackless wastes of water, the sailors became still more terrified. Soon the mutiny became open, officers joining with men in demanding a return. Standing on the deck of his vessel,