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Updated: May 4, 2025
Jayme de Marchena held it for the leap of the flame before sinking, before leaving the frame of this world. But his sons and Don Bartholomew cried, "Why, father, why, brother, you will outlive us yet!" He rode firmly; he looked about with bright, blue-gray eyes; his voice had the old, powerful thrill.
Trudging wearily across the country, they came one night to the convent of La Rabida, and Columbus stopped to ask for a crust of bread and cup of water for the child. The prior, Juan Perez de Marchena, struck by his noble bearing, entered into conversation with him and was soon so interested that he invited the travellers in.
We rode, his company and Carvajal's company. Don Francisco de Bobadilla! Jayme de Marchena had some association here. It disentangled itself, came at last clear. A Commander of the Order of Calatrava about the King in some capacity able and honest, men said.
Don Jayme de Marchena made his reverence. She was a strong woman who would go directly to the heart of things. Always she would learn from the man himself. She asked me this and I answered; that and the other and I answered. "Don Pedro ?" I told the enmity there and the reason for it. "The Jewish rabbi, my great-grand father?"
Now that the book is too rare to do us any harm, we may admit that the pastiche was not only highly amusing, but showed a perverse cleverness amounting almost to genius." Marchena died at Madrid in great poverty in 1821. A contemporary has described him as being rather short and heavy set in figure, of great frontal development, and vain beyond belief.
Weary and exhausted, he stopped to ask for bread and water at the gate of the ancient Franciscan convent of Santa Maria de Rabida. The Prior, Juan Perez de Marchena, happening to come up, and remarking the appearance of the stranger, entered into conversation with him.
I and thou and the True, the Universal Christ give us light! To-day all Andalusia, all Castile and all Spain to me seemed gray, and gray the utter Ocean that stretched no man knew where. The gray was the gray of fetters and of ashes. The tide made, and as the waves came nearer, eating the sand before me, they uttered a low crying. In danger danger in danger, Jayme de Marchena!
About his haste to reach this spot Christopher had not breathed a word in the town where he had just landed; in fact, he always remained silent about it; but it appears that he went there to question a Portuguese monk named Marchena whom he had known in Portugal. This monk was an excellent cartographer, or map-maker, and Christopher wished to talk with him about the western lands.
The marques had a secret conference with Don Pedro Enriques, adelantado of Andalusia, Don Diego de Merlo, commander of Seville, Sancho de Avila, alcayde of Carmona, and others, who all agreed to aid him with their forces. On an appointed day the several commanders assembled at Marchena with their troops and retainers.
"But you must remain with us till he comes back," declared the monk Marchena, "for no man in all Spain is more experienced in matters of navigation. You must tell him about this island you propose to discover." And Fernandez, when he heard Christopher's tale, said the same thing.
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