The Story of Newfoundland | Page 7

the tale of the fast-running one-legged people; but with
all allowances, the fact of Viking adventure on the American mainland

is unquestioned and unquestionable, though we may say of these brave
sailors, with Professor Goldwin Smith, that nothing more came of their
visit, or in that age could come, than of the visit of a flock of seagulls.
It has been asserted by some writers that Basque navigators discovered
the American continent a century before Cabot or 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