The Conquest of Canada (Vol. 1&2). George Warburton
but on the 6th of September they sailed from Gomera, the most distant of those islands, and, leaving the usual track of navigation, stretched westward into the unknown sea. And still ever westward for six-and-thirty days they bent their course through the dreary desert of waters; terrified by the changeless wind that wafted them hour after hour further into the awful solitude, and seemed to forbid the prospect of return; bewildered by the altered hours of day and night, and more than all by the mysterious variation of their only guide, for the magnetic needle no longer pointed to the pole.[44] Then strange appearances in the sea aroused new fears: vast quantities of weeds covered the surface, retarding the motion of the vessels; the sailors imagined that they had reached the utmost boundary of the navigable ocean, and that they were rushing blindly into the rocks and quicksands of some submerged continent.
The master mind turned all these strange novelties into omens of success. The changeless wind was the favoring breath of the Omnipotent; the day lengthened as they followed the sun's course; an ingenious fiction explained the inconstancy of the needle; the vast fields of sea-weed bespoke a neighboring shore; and the flight of unknown birds[45] was hailed with happy promise. But as time passed on, and brought no fulfillment of their hopes, the spirits of the timid began to fail; the flattering appearances of land had repeatedly deceived them; they were now very far beyond the limit of any former voyage. From the timid and ignorant these doubts spread upward, and by degrees the contagion extended from ship to ship: secret murmurs rose to conspiracies, complaints, and mutiny. They affirmed that they had already performed their duty in so long pursuing an unknown and hopeless course, and that they would no more follow a desperate adventurer to destruction. Some even proposed to cast their leader into the sea.
The menaces and persuasions that had so often enabled Columbus to overcome the turbulence and fears of his followers now ceased to be of any avail. He gave way to an irresistible necessity, and promised that he would return to Spain, if unsuccessful in their search for three days more. To this brief delay the mutineers consented. The signs of land now brought almost certainty to the mind of the great leader. The sounding-line brought up such soil as is only found near the shore: birds were seen of a kind supposed never to venture on a long flight. A piece of newly-cut cane floated past, and a branch of a tree bearing fresh berries was taken up by the sailors. The clouds around the setting sun wore a new aspect, and the breeze became warm and variable. On the evening of the 11th of October every sail was furled, and strict watch kept, lest the ships might drift ashore during the night.
On board the admiral's vessel all hands were invariably assembled for the evening hymn; on this occasion a public prayer for success was added, and with those holy sounds Columbus hailed the appearance of that small, shifting light,[46] which crowned with certainty his long-cherished hope,[47] turned his faith into realization,[48] and stamped his name forever upon the memory of man.[49]
It was by accident only that England had been deprived of the glory of these great discoveries. Columbus, when repulsed by the courts of Portugal and Spain, sent his brother Bartholomew to London,[50] to lay his projects before Henry VII., and seek assistance for their execution. The king, although the most penurious of European princes, saw the vast advantage of the offer, and at once invited the great Genoese to his court. Bartholomew was, however, captured by pirates on his return voyage, and detained till too late, for in the mean while Isabella of Castile had adopted the project of Columbus, and supplied the means for the expedition.
Henry VII. was not discouraged by this disappointment: two years after the discoveries of Columbus became known in England, the king entered into an arrangement with John Cabot, an adventurous Venetian merchant, resident at Bristol, and, on the 5th of March, 1495, granted him letters patent for conquest and discovery. Henry stipulated that one fifth of the gains in this enterprise was to be retained for the crown, and that the vessels engaged in it should return to the port of Bristol. On the 24th of June, 1497, Cabot discovered the coast of Labrador, and gave it the name of Primavista. This was, without doubt, the first visit of Europeans to the Continent of North America,[51] since the time of the Scandinavian voyages. A large island lay opposite to this shore: from the vast quantity of fish frequenting the neighboring waters, the sailors called it Bacallaos.[53] Cabot gave this country the name of St. John's, having landed there on St. John's day. Newfoundland has long since superseded both appellations. John Cabot returned to England in August of the same year, and was knighted and otherwise rewarded by the king; he survived but a very short time in the enjoyment of his fame, and his son Sebastian Cabot, although only twenty-three years of age, succeeded him in the command of an expedition destined to seek a northwest passage to the South Seas.
Sebastian Cabot sailed in the summer of 1498: he soon reached Newfoundland, and thence proceeded north as far as the fifty-eighth degree. Having failed in discovering the hoped-for passage, he returned toward the south, examining the coast as far as the southern boundary of Maryland, and perhaps Virginia. After a long interval, the enterprising mariner again, in 1517, sailed for America, and entered the bay[54] which, a century afterward, received the name of Hudson. If prior discovery confer a right of possession, there is no doubt that the whole eastern coast of the North American Continent may be justly claimed by the English race.[55]
Gaspar Cortereal was the next voyager in the succession of discoverers: he had been brought up in the household of the King of Portugal, but nourished an ardent spirit of enterprise and thirst for glory, despite the enervating influences of a court. He sailed early in the year 1500, and pursued the track of John Cabot as far as the northern point of Newfoundland; to him is due the discovery of the Gulf of St. Lawrence,[56] and he also pushed on northward, by the coast of Labrador,[57] almost to the entrance of Hudson's Bay. The adventurer returned to Lisbon in October of the same year. This expedition was undertaken more for mercantile advantage than for the advancement of knowledge; timber and slaves seem to have been the objects; no less than fifty-seven of the natives were brought back to Portugal, and doomed to bondage. These unhappy savages proved so robust and useful, that great benefits were anticipated from trading on their servitude;[58] the dreary and distant land of their birth, covered with snow for half the year, was despised by the Portuguese, whose thoughts and hopes were ever turned to the fertile plains, the sunny skies, and the inexhaustible treasures of the East.[59]
But disaster and destruction soon fell upon these bold and merciless adventurers. In a second voyage, the ensuing year, Cortereal and all his followers were lost at sea: when some time had elapsed without tidings of their fate, his brother sailed to seek them; but he too, probably, perished in the stormy waters of the North Atlantic, for none of them were ever heard of more. The King of Portugal, feeling a deep interest in these brothers, fitted out three armed vessels and sent them to the northwest. Inquiries were made along the wild shores which Cortereal had first explored, without trace or tidings being found of the bold mariner, and the ocean was searched for many months, but the deep still keeps it secret.
Florida was discovered in 1512 by Ponce de Leon, one of the most eminent among the followers of Columbus. The Indians had told him wonderful tales of a fountain called Bimini, in an island of these seas; the fountain possessed the power, they said, of restoring instantly youth and vigor to those