of Bristol sent expeditions, even before
Columbus sailed. In his northern journey, too, some vague and formless
traditions may have reached his ear of the voyages of Biorn and Lief,
and of the pleasant coasts of Helleland, Markland, and Vinland that lay
toward the setting sun. All were hints and rumors to bid the bold
mariner sail westward, and this he at length determined to do. There is
also some vague and unreliable tradition as to a Portuguese pilot
discovering the Indies previous to Columbus, and on his deathbed
revealing the secret to the Genoese explorer. It is at the best but a
fanciful tale.

The concurrence of some state or sovereign, however, was necessary for
the success of this design. The Senate of Genoa had the honor to receive
the first offer, and the responsibility of refusing it. Rejected by his
native city, the projector turned next to John II. of Portugal. This
King had already an open field for discovery and enterprise along the
African coast; but he listened to the Genoese, and referred him to the
Committee of Council for Geographical Affairs. The council's report was
altogether adverse; but the King, who was yet inclined to favor the
theory of Columbus, assented to the suggestion of the Bishop of Ceuta
that the plan should be carried out in secret, and without Columbus'
knowledge, by means of a caravel or light frigate. The caravel was
dispatched, but it returned after a brief absence, the sailors having
lost heart, and having refused to venture farther. Upon discovering this
dishonorable transaction, Columbus felt so outraged and indignant that
he sent off his brother Bartholomew to England with letters for Henry
VII., to whom he had communicated his ideas. He himself left Lisbon
many other friends, and here met with Beatrix Enriquez, the mother of
his second son, Hernando, who was born August 15, 1488.

A certain class of writers pretend that Beatrix Enriquez was the lawful
wife of Columbus.[1] If so, when he died she would of right have been
Vice-Queen Dowager of the Indies. Is it likely that $56 would have been
the pension settled upon a lady of such rank? Senor Castelar, than whom
there is no greater living authority, scouts the idea of a legal
marriage; and, indeed, it is only a few irresponsible and peculiarly
aggressive Catholic writers who have the hardihood to advance this more
than improbable theory. Mr. Henry Harrisse, a most painstaking critic,
thinks that Felipa Moniz died in 1488.