was at the court, the object of universal attention on account of his discoveries, but if so, it likewise has disappeared, or may exist anonymously in some corner of Spain, or in the collection of some picturehunter. So much for the portraits of Columbus. Another subject of inquiry with Mr. Bloomfield was the name of the discoverer. He asks why he should not call him by the name he signed to all his letters now in the Royal Exchange of Seville, Christoval Colon; and he wishes to know "how did or could Colon be changed to Columbus ?" In regard to the name there is some petty mystery. That of the family in Genoa was Colombo, and his original Italian designation was Cristoforo Colombo. When he first came into Spain from Portugal, he seems to have retained his Italian family name, with a slight variation; for, in the records of Francisco Gonzales, of Seville, the royal treasurer, there are still extant three several entries of money paid, in 1487 and 1488, by order of the Catholic sovereigns, to him, by the name of Cristóbal Colomo. So also, in a royal cedula of May 12th, 1480, signed by the sovereigns, the public functionaries throughout the kingdom are ordered to furnish accommodations and facilities to Cristóval Colomo. And the Duke of Medina Celi, his first patron in Spain, in a letter to the Grand Cardinal, dated 19th March, 1493, says: "I do not know whether your lordship knows that I had for much time in my house Cristóbal Colomo, who came from Portugal," etc. In the capitulations entered into between him and the sovereigns, 17th April, 1492, by which he was constituted admiral, viceroy, and governor of any lands he might discover, we find him for the first time recorded as Don Cristóbal Colon. In adopting this appellation, he may have recurred to what his son Fernando intimates was the original patrician name of the family in old times, at Rome-Colonus-and may have abbreviated it to Colón, to adapt it to the Spanish tongue. Columbus was a later version of his family name, adopted occasionally by himself and his brother Bartholomew, according to the pedantic usage of the day. His son Fernando says (chap. xi.), that his father, before he was declared admiral, used to sign himself "Columbus de Terrarubra ;" that is to say, Columbus of Terrarossa, a village or hamlet near Genoa. So also his brother Bartholomew, on a map of the world, which he presented to Henry VII., dated London, 13th February, 1488, inscribed on it some Latin verses, of which the following gave the name and country of the author: "Janua cui patria est; nomen cui Bartolomæus By this Latin version of his family name, he has always been known in English literature. If we change it, we ought to go back to the original Italian, Cristoforo Colombo. Long usage, however, like long occupancy, constitutes a kind of right, that cannot be disturbed without great inconvenience. Yours, my dear sir, very truly, WASHINGTON IRVING. CHAPTER XV. LETTER TO MRS. STORROW.-COUP D'ETAT OF LOUIS NAPOLEON.-KOSSUTH.LETTER TO GOUVERNEUR KEMBLE. THE COOPER COMMEMORATION.-BRYANT'S ALLUSION TO THE COOLNESS BETWEEN COOPER AND IRVING.-WHAT THE LATTER SAID ABOUT IT.-A PROSPECTUS FOR A COURSE OF LECTURES SENT TO HIM.-LETTER THEREUPON.-LETTERS FROM SARATOGA.-ANECDOTES OF CHARLES AUGUSTUS DAVIS.-THE IRVING LITERARY UNION.A BREAKFAST WITH SONTAG.-LETTER TO MISS HAMILTON.-LETTER TO GEORGE P. PUTNAM. HE following letter is addressed to Mrs. Storrow, at Paris, just after the world had been astounded by the coup d'état of Louis Napoleon. New York, in addition, had been filled with excitement by the arrival of the graceful and eloquent Hungarian patriot, Kossuth. MY DEAR SARAH :· : SUNNYSIDE, January 13, 1852. We have all been quite electrified by the coup d'état of our friend Louis Napoleon. It is one of the most complete things of the kind I have ever heard or read of, and quite Napoleonic. His uncle could not have done the thing better in his most vigorous day. Who would have thought, "when his gracious Majesty took his disjeune with us at Tillietudlem," he had so much in him? You are in a fair way of becoming experienced in warfare, and seasoned to alarms, by your residence in a capital where every political change is a military convulsion. At present you are likely VOL. III.-13 193 to have a great deal of the pomp and parade of arms, without any more of the ragamuffin warfare of the barricades; for no doubt Louis Napoleon will keep up such a military force in the capital as to render insurrection hopeless. I should not be surprised if there were a long spell of tranquillity in Paris under his absolute sway. Had his coup d'état been imperfectly effected, or his election been but moderately successful, France might been thrown into a terrible turmoil; but now he will hold her down with a strong hand, until she has kicked out the last spasm and convulsion of French liberty, and is quiet. You will then most probably have all the splendors of the imperial court, with the spectacles and public improvements by which Napoleon used to dazzle the capital, and keep the Parisians in good humor. All this, I presume, will be more to the taste of temporary residents like yourself than the stern simplicity of republicanism; and a long interval of quiet would be a prosperous interval for the commercial world; so both you and Storrow may find yourselves comfortable under the absolute sway of Napoleon the Second. It is a pity Van Wart had returned to England before this event took place. He lost an opportunity of seeing that grand spectacle, Paris in a tumult and under arms; though perhaps he might have had a propensity to go about and see everything, as I should have done in like case, and have paid for the spectacle by being shot down at a barricade. I never could keep at home when Madrid was in a state of siege and under arms, and the troops bivouacking in every street and square; and I had always a strong hankering to get near the gates when the fighting was going on. We have had a great turmoil and excitement, though of a peaceful kind, here, on the arrival of Kossuth, the Hungarian patriot. New York, you know, is always ready for a paroxysm of enthusiasm on the advent of any great novelty, whether a great singer, a great dancer, a great novelist, or a great patriot; and it is not often it has so worthy an object to run mad about. I have heard and seen Kossuth both in public and private, and he is really a noble fellow, quite the beau ideal of a poetic hero. There seems to be no base alloy in his nature. All is elevated, generous, intellectual, and refined, and with his manly and daring spirit there is min gled a tenderness and sensibility of the gentlest kind. He is a kind of man that you would idolize. Yet, poor fellow! he has come here under a great mistake, and is doomed to be disappointed in the high wrought expectations he had formed of coöperation on the part of our government in the affairs of his unhappy country. Admiration and sympathy he has in abundance from individuals; but there is no romance in councils of state or deliberate assemblies. There, cool judgment and cautious policy must restrain and regulate the warm impulses of feeling. I trust we are never to be carried away, by the fascinating eloquence of this second Peter the Hermit, into schemes of foreign interference, that would rival the wild enterprises of the Crusades. I can give you but little of New York news. Indeed, I have not been much there since you were last here. I draw more and more into the little world of my country home as the silver cord which binds me to life is gradually loosening; and, indeed, I am so surrounded here by kind and affectionate hearts, and have such frequent visits from one or other of the family, that I feel no need and but little inclination to look beyond for enjoyment. Even the opera does not draw me to town so often as formerly, although we have had a very excellent one, and New York in fact is inundated with musical talent. It is now half-past twelve at night, and I am sitting here scribbling in my study, long after all the family are abed and asleep-a habit I have fallen much into of late. Indeed, I never fagged more steadily with my pen than I do at present. I have a long task in hand, which I am anxious to finish, that I may have a little leisure in the brief remnant of life that is left to me. However, I have a strong presentiment that I shall die in harness; and I am content to do so, provided I have the cheerful exercise of intellect to the last. The first paragraph of the letter which follows refers to a fortunate investment in Western lands, in which he had embarked with his friend Kemble years before, and from which the returns were steadily coming in: |