The Cabots, as we have seen, enterprising merchants of Bristol, which was at that time the second port in England, and accustomed to the navigation of the northern seas, had discovered, in 1496, the coast of Labrador—a country which could neither be mistaken for Cipango nor for Ophir—a savage arctic region, abounding in white bears and deer of a gigantic size, and inhabited by men clad in skins and armed with bows and clubs.
About two years afterwards, Sebastian Cabot, the son, again sailed for Labrador, by way of Iceland, and thence proceeding southward along the shores of the new country advanced into a more hospitable climate, until want of provisions compelled him to return. On a subsequent voyage, steering still to his favourite north, in search of a north-west passage, he entered Hudson’s Bay, but was now compelled to return in consequence of insubordination among his crews. In 1526, having gone to Spain, he was nominated by Charles V. as pilot-major of the kingdom, and in the April of this year, proceeding across the Atlantic, explored the river La Plata and some of its tributaries, erecting forts, and endeavouring, but unsuccessfully, to plant colonies.
“The career of Sebastian Cabot,” says Bancroft, “was in the issue as honourable as the beginning was glorious. He conciliated universal esteem by the placid mildness of his character. Unlike the stern enthusiasm of Columbus, he was distinguished for serenity and contentment. For sixty years he was renowned for his achievements and skill.” It is, however, greatly to be regretted that, of all his voyages and discoveries, no detailed account has been preserved. In 1548 he was pensioned by Edward VI. as “The Great Seaman,” and through his advice and influence it was that an expedition to the North of Europe was undertaken, which opened to England the important trade with Russia. He lived to extreme old age, but the place of his death and burial is unknown.
The fame of Cabot rests less on any discovery of summer lands, affluent in natural beauty and precious commodities, than on his having made known rich fisheries, the wealth and value of which remain to the present day. The immense shoals of cod in the shallows of those new seas soon attracted the attention of other voyagers, and within seven years of Cabot’s discovery, the hardy fishermen of Brittany and Normandy frequented the abundant fisheries of Newfoundland; Cape Breton remaining as a memorial of them to this day. This fishery, on the coast and bank of Newfoundland, formed the first link between Europe and North America.
The Portuguese, excited by the success of England and Spain, entered eagerly into competition with them. Emanuel, king of Portugal, animated also by the great success of his expedition under Vasco de Gama, who, having for the first time doubled the Cape of Good Hope, had reached India, thus opening to Europe all the vast treasures of the Indian Ocean, now sent out Gaspar Cortereal with two vessels, to follow in the course of the Cabots, and explore the north-western seas. Accordingly, reaching the shores of North America, he coasted for about seven hundred miles, admiring as he went along the beauty and fertility of the country, and the grandeur of its forests, the pines of which appeared to him admirably suited for the masts and yards of shipping. The commerce, however, which occupied these Portuguese was of a much less innocent kind than that of timber, or than the cod-fishing of the French; Cortereal freighted his vessels with a number of inoffensive natives, whom he sold for slaves, intending to return for more. But he never returned; he lost his life, it is said, in a contest with the natives, whom he was endeavouring to kidnap.
The successful trade which the bold fishermen of France carried on, and some of the natives whom they had taken into their own country, turned the attention of Francis I. to the subject of discovery. He fitted out a fleet under the command of John Verrazzani, a Florentine, commissioned to explore for the French monarch these new realms of wonder and hope. Verrazzani sailed by way of Madeira, and after a most stormy voyage, had the satisfaction of discovering land in a latitude which was unknown to any European navigator. Sailing for a long time in search of harbourage, he at length cast anchor on the coast of North Carolina. The natives had as yet seen no white man; they were of a gentle and peaceful character, dressed in skins, and ornamented with garlands of feathers. Coasting northward, he relates, in his letter to Francis I., that nothing could equal the beauty of the country; the climate was soft and balmy, the groves full of beautiful trees and flowers which diffused a delicious odour. The red colour of the earth, and the fragrance of the groves, suggested at once the idea of gold dust and the spices of the East. Still advancing northward, they reached Nova Scotia, where natives of another character met them.
From this point he returned homeward; his narrative of this coasting voyage being the earliest record of that part of the new world now extant. Of Verrazzani’s further discoveries nothing is known, although it is said that he visited the coast of America three times. He is believed to have perished at sea.
Ten years afterwards, the Admiral Chabot, whose duties brought him into connexion with the Newfoundland fishermen, became interested in the subject of discovery. Jaques Cartier, a mariner of St. Malo, was despatched with two ships on the commission to explore those northern coasts of the new world already so familiar to the fishermen. Cartier made a wonderfully speedy voyage. In twenty days from leaving St. Malo, he was on the coast of Newfoundland, and after partly circumnavigating the island, he planted a cross bearing the arms of France, in token of having taken possession for that country.
Sailing within the magnificent bay on its west, he reached the estuary of a vast river, which he ascended, until he could see land on both sides; further he was unable to advance, being unprepared to winter there. He turned his face homeward, therefore, and in thirty days reached St. Malo, carrying two natives with him.
The success of this voyage caused a second expedition to be soon fitted out. Three well-furnished vessels were provided by government, and several of the young nobility joined in the enterprise. Solemn preparations were made for departure, the ships’ companies assembled in the cathedral to receive absolution and the blessing of the bishop; and thus they set sail, full of hope and schemes for the colonising of that splendid territory which was to be called New France. This voyage, however, unlike the former, was stormy, and passing the west of Newfoundland on the day of St. Lawrence, they gave the name of that saint to the noble bay which expanded before them, and which name not alone the gulf, but the magnificent river which falls into it, bear to this day. Cartier again sailed up the river, but in a boat, and as far as Hochelaga, where, ascending a hill, he was struck by the magnificent view of woods, mountain, and river, which lay behind him. Anticipating this as the site of the future metropolis of a splendid empire, he called the hill Mont-Real, and “time,” says the historian, “which has transferred the name to the island, is realising his visions.” He and his companions spent the winter in these seas, and in the spring departed, having basely kidnapped an Indian chief who had treated them with the utmost kindness.