fiery hue from the constant neighborhood of his tobacco-pipe. Such was Hendrick Hudson, of whom we have heard so much, and know so little; and I have been thus particular in his description for the benefit of modern painters and statuaries, that they may represent him as he was, and not, according to their common. custom with modern heroes, make him look like Cæsar, or Marcus Aurelius, or the Apollo of Belvidere. As chief mate and favorite companion, the commodore chose Master Robert Juet, of Limehouse, in England. He was an old comrade and early schoolmate of the great Hudson, with whom he had often played truant and sailed chip boats in a neighboring pond, when they were little boys; from whence it is said that the commodore first derived his bias toward a seafaring life. From all that I can learn, few incidents worthy of remark happened in the voyage; and it mortifies me exceedingly that I have to admit so noted an expedition into my work, without making any more of it. Suffice it to say, the voyage was prosperous and tranquil; the crew being a patient people, much given to slumber and vacuity, and but little troubled with the disease of thinkinga malady of the mind which is the sure breeder of discontent. Hudson had laid in abundance of gin and sour-krout, and every man was allowed to sleep quietly at his post unless the wind blew. Being under the especial guidance of Providence, the ship was safely conducted to the coast of America, where, after sundry unimportant touchings and standings off and on, she at length, on the fourth day of September, entered that majestic bay which at this day expands its ample bosom before the city of New York, and which had never before been visited by any European. After tarrying a few days in the bay, in order to refresh themselves after their seafaring, our voyagers weighed anchor, to explore a mighty river which emptied into the bay. This river, it is said, was known among the savages by the name of the Shatemuck; though we are assured in an excellent little history, published in 1674, by John Josselyn, Gent., that it was called the Mohegan, and Master Richard Bloome, who wrote some time afterward, asserts the same; so that I very much incline in favor of the opinion of these two honest gentlemen. Be this as it may, up this river did the adventurous Hendrick proceed, little doubting but it would turn out to be the much looked-for passage to China. After sailing, however, above a hundred miles up the river, he found the watery world around him began to grow more shallow and confined, the current more rapid, and perfectly fresh-phenomena not uncommon in the ascent of rivers, but which puzzled the honest Dutchman prodigiously. A consultation was, therefore, called, and having deliberated full six hours, they were brought to a determination by the ship's running aground. Being satisfied that there was little likelihood of getting to China, unless, like the blind man, he returned from whence he set. out and took a fresh start, he forthwith re-crossed the sea to Holland, where he was received with great welcome by the honorable East India Company, who were very much rejoiced to see him come back safe-with their ship. At a large and respectable meeting of the first merchants and burgomasters of Amsterdam, it was unanimously determined that, as a munificent reward for the eminent services he had performed, and the important discovery he had made, the great river Mohegan should be called after his name; and it continues to be called Hudson River unto this very day. MRS. CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. MARIE SESSIONS COWELL. WHY is it, I wonder, that we never hear of Mrs. Christopher Columbus? Perhaps people would smile if one were to say that America was really discovered by a woman. And yet it is true that if it had not been for his wife, Columbus never would have had the ambition to discover anything. If one must believe that when one looks closely into any great crime a woman will always be found at the bottom of it, why not equally true that she will be found as a stimulator of good deeds? Certainly Mrs. Christopher was the ruling influence in the life of her liege lord. About the year 1470, Columbus went to live at Lisbon. There he met and fell in love with Doña Felipa, daughter of the deceased Bartolomeo Moñis de Palestrello, an Italian cavalier, and a navigator of great distinction, who had colonized and governed the island of Porto Santo. Bartolomeo and his daughter Felipa had been the closest of friends, and on many of his voyages she had been his constant companion. She had inherited his love of adventure, and, having a fine artistic nature, she it was who wrote her father's journal, drew his maps and geographical charts, and later, at his dictation, wrote many valuable books and papers relative to his voyages. It When Bartolomeo died, he left to his daughter all his papers, charts and journals, and land on the island of Porto Santo. was there Felipa went to live with Columbus after their marriage. There they lived happily and quietly for several years. There their son Diego was born. Felipa had always been ambitious for her father, and encouraged him in his explorations when many thought them simply adventurous follies. Now she transferred these ambitions to her husband. To be sure, Columbus had always hoped and dreamed that he might some day become an explorer and a discoverer; but, like so many men, his ideas would probably have always remained dreams, had he not found a wife who encouraged him, stimulated his ambition, helped him, influenced him in innumerable little ways as only a woman can. Their life at Porto Santo was necessarily a quiet one, and Columbus, perhaps because he loved his wife, perhaps because he had no one else to go to, came to rely more and more upon her for society and for sympathy. Then her opportunity came. She read to him, studied with him, talked with him, told him of the voyages she had made with her father; of his ideas; the different naviga tors, friends, and companions of her father whom she had known; of the opinions they had held; of the breathless interest with which she had listened to their many discussions. And she pictured to him the glory and honor that would be his, were he to become a successful explorer, and she suggested a possible country in the far west. Finally she roused in him an enthusiasm equal to her own. Then came his struggle for recognition. It was his wife who stood by him, cheering and sustaining him when others ridiculed. It was her indomitable will that forced him to be courageous and persevering, when oftentimes in his despair he was ready to give up everything. These were hard days for Felipa; besides her anxiety for her husband's welfare, she endured uncomplainingly many days and nights of pain. She knew that her life was drawing to a close, and she longed to live that she might see the fulfilment of her desires. But it was not to be. Until the very last she forced herself to think for Columbus and to forget herself. When she was dying she called him to her and told him that she felt sure Queen Isabella of Spain would assist him, and begged him to promise her that he would go to the Queen and implore her aid. Poor Felipa! she died without knowing the success of her heart's wish. If Christopher Columbus discovered America, certainly Felipa discovered the latent genius in Columbus, and by her remarkable influence helped him to his life's work. Why doesn't Mrs. Christopher Columbus deserve some recognition also? COLUMBUS. DEVERE. HE crimson sun was sinking down to rest, TH Pavilioned on the cloudy verge of heaven, And Ocean, on her gently heaving breast, Caught and flashed back the varying tints of even; When on a fragment from the tall cliff riven, A ray of gladness, shooting from the west. Thoughts shadowy still, but indistinctly grand! He was a man whom danger could not daunt, How best to sooth the heart-sick, or confront The frowns of grief and the base pangs of want. Lovelier than fondest fancy ever trod; Then softening nature melted in his eyes; He knew his fame was full, and blessed his God, CHRISTOPHER C—. N the city of Genoa, over the sea, IN In a beautiful land called Italy, There lived a sailor called Christopher C--; He studied the books and maps and charts, All that they knew about foreign parts; |