Prologue
Spain, 1490
Just a few miles outside of Barcelona was the Matiste Estates, some forty thousand acres of villages and farm lands and a large castle, all owned by Don Ferdinand Matiste, the Duke of Drastille. Don Ferdinand was the fourteenth Duke of Drastille, and loyal to the Crown. At age fifty, he was still as energetic a horseman and swordsman as he had been in his youth. He was neither a well-read man nor an educated one; he enjoyed fighting, gambling, and women. He was a reasonably adept soldier and had served the King honorably in three different wars. He paid lip service in public to the Church but rarely attended services if he could help it. His wife, now deceased, had sired the necessary heir, who was now at the age of ten attending a school for nobles in Madrid. This left Don Ferdinand free to enjoy his pursuit of pleasure unhindered by family members; he had no desire to remarry.
Don Ferdinand also had no interest in the day to day management of his estate; for the past several hundred years, no Duke of Drastille has ever had to concern himself with this problem. The estate was managed by a Jewish family, the Goldsteins. Don Ferdinand met with Jacob Goldstein once a month, and this was sufficient; the Duke simply deferred to whatever ideas the Jew had, because he knew Jews to be crafty when it came to money, and good at increasing it. Also, though there were two Goldstein brothers equally involved with the Matiste Estate, Don Ferdinand preferred to work directly with Jacob, because some nine years earlier, Jacob had become a converso to Christianity.
No one could remember how long the Goldstein family had been in Spain, but they had worked for the Drastilles for the last two hundred years. This established them as one of the most prominent Jewish families in Spain, if nowhere near one of the wealthiest.
At the present time there were two Goldstein brothers who worked the estate, along with their wives and families. Moses, 44, handled the farming issues and communications with the townsfolk, along with collection of taxes. He considered himself a pious, observant Jew, and he was the leader of the small Jewish community in the area. His wife, Miriam, had blessed him with two fine sons, Solomon and David, both in their late teens. In every way, Moses would have been a contented man, if not for two issues: his brother, Jacob, and the growing hatred for Jews in Spain.
Jacob, 37, handled finances and investments for the Duke. He was married to Rosalita, a religious Christian from a merchant family of long Spanish descent. They had one child, a four year old son named Ferdinand in honor of their patron, the Duke. The family no longer considered itself Jewish.
As I have written, this change occurred nine years earlier, before Jacob had gotten married, although he had already met Rosalita and was plotting an engagement. At that time he had tried to convince his older brother that the wisest course was for all of them to convert.
“Moses” Jacob had urged, “Our father has been dead now for five years. The Duke is happy with us, that is true, but I sense trouble. Do you not hear what the people are saying about Jews? Do you not hear what the priests say? Our very safety in Spain is threatened.”
“So?” Moses responded. “What difference for the last hundred years? Or forever, for that matter? Our safety is always threatened. This is God’s price for giving us the privilege of protecting His laws. Spain has never been our home. Perhaps it is the will of the Master of the Universe for us to leave Spain tomorrow. Shall we?”
“Never!” Jacob said vehemently. “You might consider yourself a Jew first and foremost, but I am a Spaniard. I have met a Christian girl and want to marry. There is only one way to safety; I have decided to convert.”
Moses was not shocked, only saddened. He had been expecting this for some time. For several years now, the pressure had been growing on the Jews on Spain. Convert. It is intolerable that you turn your back on Jesus. Convert to Christianity, and everything will be better for you. Already in the past ten years several very prominent Jews had publicly submitted and become Christians; a few of these had turned into rabid Jew-haters themselves.
For Moses, it was a course he personally could never consider. He would proudly die, if necessary, praising the god of Abraham on his lips. But he could well understand the pressure that others might feel. He wished for the millionth time that he lived in a world that was not hostile to his kind, but he knew that it would never be so.
There was also a strange phenomenon Moses noticed, but one that he did not repeat to his brother. The conversos, as the Jewish converts were known, were hardly better treated than those who remained Jews. In fact, they were actually regarded as worse by some, because there was a suspicion that they were not devout, instead trying to worm their way into the good graces of the Church.
Moses certainly did not believe that Jacob, or those like him, were converting in order to somehow destroy Christianity from within. But he did think his brother had ulterior motives beyond wanting to save himself and marry the Spanish girl. Jacob had always chafed at being the younger brother with less authority in the family. This would be a way to ingratiate himself with the Duke, and achieve for himself the superior position.
“If you do this,” Moses had said, “I shall not condemn you or turn my back on you. But Jacob, you were born a Jew, it is your burden to carry. You cannot escape this fate no matter how hard you try.”
The Duke had responded to Jacob’s conversion not quite as he had hoped; the Duke was indifferent for several years. But then the pressure of the times weighed heavy on Ferdinand, as well. He was known in some quarters as the “Jewish Duke” because of the prominence of the Goldsteins, and was derided and mistrusted by some of his peers. Ferdinand was advised by some to get rid of the Jews, but this he was reluctant to do, because he knew the Matiste Estate would fall to pieces without their management.
So the Duke decided on a middle course. He publicly claimed to any that would listen that Jacob Goldstein had converted because of Ferdinand’s urging, and that he, the Duke, was responsible for the saving of a soul. He announced to the brothers that he would only have direct dealings with Jacob, which effectively served to reverse the position of the two brothers. Privately however, Ferdinand mistrusted Jacob; he recognized that the younger Goldstein brother was by far the stupider of the two, and often he would ask, after hearing Jacob’s advice, “Very well, but how does your brother Moses feel about this? Does he also approve of your plan?” And if he sensed any hesitation in Jacobs’ reply, the Duke would hesitate, and be cautious about accepting this advice.
By 1490, the situation for Jews in Spain had become increasingly bad. The Inquisition had begun some years before, and although as yet had not come to Drastille, even whispers of it were terrifying to Jew and Christian alike. This was a time when Spanish Christians would fearfully attempt to proclaim their own piety by publicly denouncing or mistreating any Jew they encountered, and there were continual rumors that all of the Jews would either be killed or forced to leave the kingdom. Almost daily Jacob begged his brother Moses to reconsider and convert now, before it was too late. But Moses always continued to refuse; he would never convert, and anyway, for himself he saw no immediate danger. The townspeople of the Matiste Estates treated him no differently than normal; Madrid, the heart of the Inquisition, remained a long way off.
The Goldstein brothers might have continued in this vein for some time if not for three visitors to the Matiste Estates that summer of 1490. These three men, who had little in common and absolutely nothing to do with each other, would alter not only the fate of the two brothers, but all of their future generations, as well.
The first of these was a friend of the Duke’s; they had met some time before in Paris at an establishment known for its gambling and women, and only open to “gentlemen”. His name was Stephen Wynitski, and he was a baron from the Kingdom of Poland. He was a tall, good looking man in his early 20’s, and proved himself a match for the revelry that the Duke so enjoyed, so much so that Ferdinand issued him a standing invitation to come visit Spain whenever he wanted to, which was eventually accepted in 1490.
Stephen Wynitski was attracted to Ferdinand, and was also envious of the Dukes’ finances. Stephen’s own were a very different story; he had come on this trip across Europe with two servants to avoid the very depressing reality that he would, within a few years, be completely bankrupt. Stephen’s father, the previous Baron of that part of Poland that included the small town of Lodz (which would one day in the far future become Poland’s second largest city) along with surrounding farmland, had died young leaving behind Stephen, his only heir, and a multitude of debts. Like Ferdinand, Stephen had no knowledge of financial matters other than to realize that his affairs were in deep trouble. He became intensely interested when the Duke described how two Jewish brothers managed the Matiste Estates. Stephen admired Jews, whom he believed to be blessed with mystic powers where money was involved.
Therefore, within a few days after he had arrived at the Duke’s home, Stephen sought out a private meeting with Moses Goldstein. He avoided Jacob; perhaps, Stephen thought, a Jew loses some of his strange powers once he converts.
“It is not my intention to intrude upon my host’s hospitality,” the Baron began in heavily accented Spanish to a mystified Moses Goldstein, who had no idea why this private meeting was taking place, “but I understand from what the Duke tells me that your brother has converted, but that you will not, despite the hatred in this land towards Jews?”
“There is hatred everywhere towards Jews” Moses replied smoothly. “My brother and I disagree on this matter. In all other things we are united, and our main purpose remains as always, to serve the Duke.”
“Of course, of course,” Stephen responded hastily, “but you are incorrect about there being hatred for Jews everywhere. I come from Poland, a kingdom far east of here. There, Jews are venerated as nowhere else. I tell you, they are free to practice their magic arts!”
“Magic arts?” Moses asked, puzzled.
Stephen hesitated. He realized now he had better be cautious; probably Jews did not like to discuss their sorcery with non-Jews. “Forget that,” he said, “what I mean is that Jews are free to practice their religion and their professions without mistreatment. It is a wonderful place to be a Jew!”
“That is very interesting,” Moses said, and indeed it was. He had not really considered moving from Spain; it did not seem a reasonable option, because treatment of Jews in lands such as France, England, or Germany was hardly better than where he lived now. But if this Polish baron was telling even a semblance of the truth… “Why are you telling me all this?” he finally asked.
“I will be frank with you,” the Baron replied. “I need a Jew to manage my affairs, the way you manage the Duke’s affairs. I believe that with your magic, I mean with your skills, you can turn what at present is not such a fine state of affairs into wealth. I have heard from the Duke that your brother has converted; therefore, I figured that you might be available to come to Poland with your family, and escape the mistreatment you suffer here. I could pay you extremely well, and you would live free.”
It did not escape Moses Goldstein that here was a man intending to betray his host by attempting to hire out the Dukes’ employees from under him. How could such a man be trusted? “My family has served the Duke for two hundred years,” he countered. “We are indebted to all that Senor Matiste has done for us. I could not possibly betray him in such a manner,” he finished pointedly.
“But that is the question: who will be betrayed?” Stephen answered. He wanted to get past this false show of scruples; everyone knew Jews were notorious for having none. “Ferdinand betrayed you by putting your younger brother in the senior position. Soon he will betray you further by giving you an impossible choice: convert yourself and your family, or remove yourself and your family from these lands.”
This last came too close to Moses’ own fears of the future. “He has not given me that choice, yet. If he does, then that is another matter. But for now, sir, I must refuse your generous offer.”
“The day will come sooner than you think,” the Baron replied. “My province of Lodz is a large one, and it is open to you and your family, as well as any other Jews you want to bring with you.” And with that, the interview ended. The Baron left Spain shortly thereafter, but his words stayed in Moses’ memory.
The second visitor of note that summer was a small Italian man by the name of Mastrini. He was a courier, he announced, on behalf of another Italian who was seeking permission to come to Spain; this man was named Signor Columbo. As Mastrini explained to Jacob Goldstein, Columbo had heard from afar of the Duke of Drastille and his willingness to invest in far-flung enterprises; it was such an investment that Signor Columbo was looking for, and also the possibility of a conversation with the royalty of Spain, which the Duke could perhaps provide.
The “far-flung enterprise” was certainly intriguing; Columbo was an explorer who was seeking a new way to reach the Indies. To achieve this goal, he proposed sailing into the unknown waters due west of Spain, and continue until he found land. Then he would fill his ships with the gold and spices the Indies could easily provide, and return to Europe, making his investors one hundred times the richer. But Columbo needed a good deal of money to have the ships built. And he needed the sanction of a member of the Crown. “Both of which the Duke could provide,” finished Mastrini.
A new passage to the Indies? It was an interesting idea, thought Jacob. For several hundred years, Western Europe had a safe if long route to India through the friendly Mongol Empire (made so by their defeat at the gates of Vienna some three hundred years earlier) via Constantinople, but in the last forty years, that had all changed. Now the former Constantinople was Istanbul, filled with hostile Muslims, and the passage to India was treacherous indeed. New routes were being sought by adventurous sailors who if successful could bring great riches to their kingdoms and themselves, as well as those who financed their voyages. Recently Diaz of Portugal had sailed south and discovered the Cape of Good Hope; this meant that Portugal would become a rich nation perhaps while Spain would languish behind unless she found her own way.
Jacob’s head soared. This was not just a simple way for the Duke to perhaps invest his riches. If the Italian Columbo was correct, this could change the fortunes of Spain. More importantly to Jacob, it might provide him, as the Duke’s advisor, access to the newly crowned King and Queen, Ferdinand and Isabella. Perhaps then he could convince them of the loyalty of the conversos.
Therefore, after questioning Mastrini at some length, he promised he would do what he could to secure the Italian an audience with the Duke, and then bade him to come back to the castle in a few days. Jacob then rushed to describe all he learned with his brother Moses. However, the other brother proved skeptical, as usual.
“First of all,” Moses said, “I have heard of this Columbo, or Columbus as he is sometimes known, before. He’s been peddling this westward idea for years, you know. He couldn’t get enough money from Italy. Neither the French or English lords were interested. I was told he had been given funds and approval from Portugal, but that was before Diaz made his journey; after that, the whole thing was cancelled. Now this man sends his emissaries to us in Spain, with the hope we will fund his crazy idea. And I don’t believe it will ever work.”
“Why wouldn’t it work?” Jacob asked stubbornly. “Mastrini explained the whole thing to me, and it made sense. If you calculate what we think are the correct distances-”
“We don’t even know if the world is round,” Moses interrupted. “Some scholars still believe it to be flat, meaning the ships would simply be destroyed on route.”
“But you don’t believe that, surely?” Jacob pressed.
“No, I do not,” his older brother replied. “Most educated people believe the world is a sphere, and I am of that number. How great is the Master of the Universe to bless us with this Earth! But my objection, Jacob is a simpler one. If the world is round, and you calculate the minimum distance, there is no way that this man can reach the Indies in time. He will surely die of starvation before. The trip is too long.”
(Moses Goldstein, as history would later prove, was absolutely correct. It was simply too long a trip for Columbus to take to reach the Indies; the Italian explorer’s math was highly faulty, and those who objected to his voyage were correct to withhold their funds.
How does new stuff get found and published? I kinda thought that if someone wrote something solid, they might have to shop it to hundreds of places, but eventually, someone would bite. 
I'll take my copy in brail please...
