Christopher Columbus and His Monument Columbia Part 21

The daring mariner shall urge far o'er The western wave, a smooth and level plain, Albeit the earth is fashioned like a wheel.

SEARCHER OF THE OCEAN.

SAMUEL JEFFERSON, a British author. From his epic poem, "Columbus,"

published by S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago.[43]

Thou searcher of the ocean, thee to sing Shall my devoted lyre awake each string!

Columbus! Hero! Would my song could tell How great thy worth! No praise can overswell The grandeur of thy deeds! Thine eagle eye Pierced through the clouds of ages to descry From empyrean heights where thou didst soar With bright imagination winged by lore-- The signs of continents as yet unknown; Across the deep thy keen-eyed glance was thrown; Thou, with prevailing longing, still aspired To reach the goal thy ardent soul desired; Thy heavenward soaring spirit, bold, elate, Scorned long delay and conquered chance and fate; Thy valor followed thy far-searching eyes, Until success crowned thy bold emprize.

FELIPA, WIFE OF COLUMBUS.

ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON. From a poem published in _Harper's Weekly_, June 25, 1892.[44]

More than the compa.s.s to the mariner Wast thou, Felipa, to his dauntless soul.

Through adverse winds that threatened wreck, and nights Of rayless gloom, thou pointed ever to The north star of his great ambition. He Who once has lost an Eden, or has gained A paradise by Eve's sweet influence, Alone can know how strong a spell lies in The witchery of a woman's beckoning hand.

And thou didst draw him, tidelike, higher still, Felipa, whispering the lessons learned From thy courageous father, till the flood Of his ambition burst all barriers, And swept him onward to his longed-for goal.

Before the jewels of a Spanish queen Built fleets to waft him on his untried way, Thou gavest thy wealth of wifely sympathy To build the lofty purpose of his soul.

And now the centuries have cycled by, Till thou art all forgotten by the throng That lauds the great Pathfinder of the deep.

It matters not, in that infinitude Of s.p.a.ce where thou dost guide thy spirit bark To undiscovered lands, supremely fair.

If to this little planet thou couldst turn And voyage, wraithlike, to its cloud-hung rim, Thou wouldst not care for praise. And if, perchance, Some hand held out to thee a laurel bough, Thou wouldst not claim one leaf, but fondly turn To lay thy tribute also at his feet.

INCREASING INTEREST IN COLUMBUS.

JOHN S. KENNEDY, an American author.

The near approach of the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America has revived in all parts of the civilized world great interest in everything concerning that memorable event and the perilous voyage of the great navigator whom it has immortalized.

THE MECCA OF THE NATION.

MOSES KING, an American geographer of the nineteenth century.

I have read somewhere that in the northeastern part of Havana stands, facing an open square, a brown stone church, blackened by age, and dignified by the name of "cathedral." It is visited by every American, because within its walls lies buried all that remains of the great discoverer, Columbus.

THE CAUSE OF THE DISCOVERY.

Was it by the coa.r.s.e law of demand and supply that a Columbus was haunted by the ghost of a round planet at the time when the New World was needed for the interests of civilization?--_Ibid._

MAGNANIMITY.

ARTHUR G. KNIGHT, in his "Life of Columbus."

Through all the slow martyrdom of long delays and bitter disappointments, he never faltered in his lofty purpose; in the hour of triumph he was self-possessed and una.s.suming; under cruel persecution he was patient and forgiving. For almost unexampled services he certainly received a poor reward on earth.

THE IDEAS OF THE ANCIENTS.

LUCIUS LACTANTIUS, an eminent Christian author, 260-325 A. D.

Is there any one so foolish as to believe that there are antipodes with their feet opposite to ours; that there is a part of the world in which all things are topsy-turvy, where the trees grow with their branches downward, and where it rains, hails, and snows upward?

THE LAKE FRONT PARK STATUE OF COLUMBUS.

The World's Fair city is a close compet.i.tor with the historic cities of the Old World for the grandest monument to Columbus and the fittest location for it. At Barcelona, on the Paseo Colon, seaward, a snowy marble Admiral looks toward the Shadowy Sea. At Genoa, 'mid the palms of the Piazza Acquaverde, a n.o.ble representation of the n.o.blest Genoese faces the fitful gusts of the Mediterranean and fondly guards an Indian maid. A lofty but rude cairn marks the Admiral's first footprints on the sh.o.r.es of the wreck-strewn Bahamas, and many a monument or encomiastic inscription denotes spots sacred to the history of his indomitable resolve. These all commemorate, as it were, but the inception of the great discovery. It remains for Chicago to perpetuate the results, and most fitly to place an heroic figure of the first Admiral viewing, and in full view of all.

On the Lake Front Park, in full view of the ceaseless commercial activity of the Great Lakes, and close by the hum of the hive of human industry, grandly will a bronze Columbus face the blasts from Michigan's bosom. There the greatest navigator stands,

Calm, his prescience verified,

proudly through the ages watching the full fruits of that first and fateful voyage over the waves of the seas of mystery, to found a nation where Freedom alone should be supreme. Just where the big monument will be located on Lake Front Park has not been decided, but a site south of the Auditorium, midway between the Illinois Central tracks and Michigan Boulevard, will perhaps be chosen. The statue proper will be twenty feet high. It will be of bronze, mounted on a ma.s.sive granite pedestal, of thirty feet in height, and will serve for all time as a memorial of the Exposition.

The chosen artist, out of the many who submitted designs, was Mr. Howard Kretschmar, a Chicago sculptor of rare power and artistic talent.

The ma.s.sive figure of Columbus is represented at the moment the land, and the glorious future of his great discovery, burst upon his delighted gaze. No ascetic monk, no curled cavalier, looks down from the pedestal.

The apocryphal portraits of Europe may peer out of their frames in this guise, but it has been the artist's aim here to chisel _a man, not a monk; and a n.o.ble man_, rather than a cringing courtier. Above the ma.s.sive pedestal of simple design, which bears the terse legend, "Erected by the World's Columbian Exposition, A. D. 1893," stands the n.o.ble figure of the Noah of our nation. The open doublet discloses the ma.s.sive proportions of a more than well-knit man. The left hand, pressed to the bosom, indicates the tension of his feelings, and the outstretched hand but further intensifies the dawning and gradually o'erwhelming sense of the future, the possibilities of his grand discovery. One of the n.o.blest conceptions in bronze upon this continent is Mr. Howard Kretschmar's "Columbus," and of it may Chicago well be proud.

COLUMBUS THE CIVILIZER.

ALPHONSE LAMARTINE, the learned French writer and politician. Born at Macon, 1792; died, 1869. From "Life of Columbus."

All the characteristics of a truly great man are united in Columbus.

Genius, labor, patience, obscurity of origin, overcome by energy of will; mild but persisting firmness, resignation toward heaven, struggle against the world; long conception of the idea in solitude, heroic execution of it in action; intrepidity and coolness in storms, fearlessness of death in civil strife; confidence in the destiny--not of an individual, but of the human race; a life risked without hesitation or retrospect in venturing into the unknown and phantom-peopled ocean, 1,500 leagues across, and on which the first step no more allowed of second thoughts than Caesar's pa.s.sage of the Rubicon; untiring study, knowledge as extensive as the science of his day, skillful but honorable management of courts to persuade them to truth; propriety of demeanor, n.o.bleness, and dignity in outward bearing, which afford proof of greatness of mind and attracts eyes and hearts; language adapted to the grandeur of his thoughts; eloquence which could convince kings and quell the mutiny of crews; a natural poetry of style, which placed his narrative on a par with the wonders of his discoveries and the marvels of nature; an immense, ardent, and enduring love for the human race, piercing even into that distant future in which humanity forgets those that do it service; legislative wisdom and philosophic mildness in the government of his colonies; paternal compa.s.sion for those Indians, infants of humanity, whom he wished to give over to the guardianship--not to the tyranny and oppression--of the Old World; forgetfulness of injury and magnanimous forgiveness of his enemies; and lastly, piety, that virtue which includes and exalts all other virtues, when it exists as it did in the mind of Columbus--the constant presence of G.o.d in the soul, of justice in the conscience, of mercy in the heart, of grat.i.tude in success, of resignation in reverses, of worship always and everywhere.

Such was the man. We know of none more perfect. He contains several impersonations within himself. He was worthy to represent the ancient world before that unknown continent on which he was the first to set foot, and carry to these men of a new race all the virtues, without any of the vices, of the elder hemisphere. So great was his influence on the destiny of the earth, that none more than he ever deserved the name of a _Civilizer_.

His influence in civilization was immeasurable. He completed the world.

He realized the physical unity of the globe. He advanced, far beyond all that had been done before his time, the work of G.o.d--the SPIRITUAL UNITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. This work, in which Columbus had so largely a.s.sisted, was indeed too great to be worthily rewarded even by affixing his name to the fourth continent. America bears not that name, but the human race, drawn together and cemented by him, will spread his renown over the whole earth.

THE PSALM OF THE WEST.

SIDNEY LANIER, an American poet of considerable talent. Born at Macon, Ga., February 3, 1842; died at Lynn, N. C., September 8, 1881. From his "Psalm of the West."[45] Lanier was the author of the "Centennial Ode."

Santa Maria, well thou tremblest down the wave, Thy Pinta far abow, thy Nina nigh astern; Columbus stands in the night alone, and, pa.s.sing grave, Yearns o'er the sea as tones o'er under-silence yearn.

Heartens his heart as friend befriends his friend less brave, Makes burn the faiths that cool, and cools the doubts that burn.

"'Twixt this and dawn, three hours my soul will smite With p.r.i.c.kly seconds, or less tolerably With dull-blade minutes flatwise slapping me.

Wait, heart! Time moves. Thou lithe young Western Night, Just-crowned King, slow riding to thy right, Would G.o.d that I might straddle mutiny Calm as thou sitt'st yon never-managed sea, Balk'st with his balking, fliest with his flight, Giv'st supple to his rearings and his falls, Nor dropp'st one coronal star about thy brow, Whilst ever dayward thou art steadfast drawn Yea, would I rode these mad contentious brawls, No damage taking from their If and How, Nor no result save galloping to my Dawn.

"My Dawn? my Dawn? How if it never break?