The Story of Newfoundland | Page 7

Columbus; but evidence in support of such claims is either wanting or unconvincing. "Ingenious and romantic theories," says a critic of these views, "have been propounded concerning discoveries of America by Basque sailors before Columbus. The whale fishery of that period and long afterwards was in the hands of the Basques, and it is asserted that, in following the whales, as they became scarcer, farther and farther out in the western ocean, they came upon the coasts of Newfoundland a hundred years before Columbus and Cabot. No solid foundation can be found for these assertions. The records of the Basque maritime cities contain nothing to confirm them, and these assertions are mixed up with so much that is absurd--such as a statement that the Newfoundland Indians spoke Basque--that the whole hypothesis is incredible."[4]
The question has been much discussed whether Columbus or Cabot in later days rediscovered the American mainland. It does not, perhaps, much matter whether the honour belongs to an Italian employed by Spain or an Italian employed by England; and it is the less necessary to ask whether Cabot explored the mainland before Columbus touched at Paria, that in any event the real credit of the adventure belongs to the great Spanish sailor. It is well known that Columbus thought, as Cabot thought after him, that he was discovering a new and short route to India by the west. Hence was given the name West Indies to the islands which Columbus discovered; hence the company which administered the affairs of Hindostan was distinguished as the East India Company. Hence, too, the spiritual welfare of the Great Khan engaged the attention of both Columbus and Cabot, whereas, in fact, this potentate (if, indeed, he existed) was secluded from their disinterested zeal by a vast continent, and thousands of miles of ocean. These misconceptions were based on a strange underestimate of the circumference of the world, but they add, if possible, to our wonder at the courage of Columbus. Sailing day after day into the unknown, with tiny ships and malcontent crews, he never faltered in his purpose, and never lost faith in his theory. When he landed at Guanahana (Watling's Island) he saw in the Bahamas the Golden Cyclades, and bethought him how he might convey to the Great Khan the letters of his Royal patron. He saw in the west coast of Juana the mainland of Cathay, and in the waters which wash the shores of Cuba he sought patiently, but vainly, for the Golden Chersonese and the storied land of the Ganges.
John Cabot inherited both the truth and the error of Columbus. His career is one of those irritating mysteries which baffle the most patient inquiry. Born at Genoa, and naturalized in 1476 at Venice after fifteen years' residence, he seems to have settled in England eight or nine years before the close of the fifteenth century. Already his life had been an adventurous one. We catch glimpses of him at long intervals: now at Mecca, pushing curious inquiries into the region whence came the spice caravans; now in Spain, under the spell, perhaps, of the novel speculations of Toscanelli and Columbus; now plying his trade as a maker of charts in Bristol or on the Continent. The confusion between John Cabot and his son Sebastian adds to the uncertainty. Those who impute to Sebastian Cabot a cuckoo-like appropriation of his father's glory are able to support their opinion with weighty evidence. The most astounding feature of all is that the main incidents of a voyage which attracted as much attention as the first voyage of John Cabot should so soon have passed into oblivion.
Marking the boundary as clearly as possible between what is certain and what is probable, we find that on March 5th, 1496, Henry VII. granted a charter in the following terms:
"Be it known to all that we have given and granted to our well-beloved John Cabot, citizen of Venice, and to Lewis, Sebastian, and Sanctus, sons of the said John, and to their heirs and deputies ... authority to sail to all parts, countries, and seas of the East, of the West, and of the North, under our banner and ensigns, with five ships, and to set up our banner on any new found land, as our vassals and lieutenants, upon their own proper costs and charges to seek out and discover whatsoever isles ... of the heathen and infidels, which before the time have been unknown to all Christians...."
No sooner was the patent granted than the vigilant Spanish ambassador in London wrote to his master King Ferdinand, that a second Columbus was about to achieve for the English sovereign what Columbus had achieved for the Spanish, but "without prejudice to Spain or Portugal." In reply to this communication Ferdinand directed his informer