|CHIEF among the attractions of Bristol has been for centuries past the church of St. Mary Redcliffe; while few names on her roll of fame are more widely known than that of the ancient citizen to whom the stately fabric owes so much of its grace and beauty.
And we grudge not the mead of praise. He who gives of his best to the service of God and his fellow men deserves high honour. But, when all is said, the work of William Canynge was as a drop in the ocean compared with that accomplished by the merchant-pilot, his contemporary and probable neighbour. Canynge helped to re-build a church; John Cabot discovered a continent, and secured it for all time to the English-speaking race. Yet the one has been remembered and revered; the other neglected and forgotten. An anomaly, perhaps accounted for by the fact that Bristol has ever been slow to recognise merit outside her borders, and John Cabot was an alien, while the claims of Sebastian, his son, to citizenship are still hotly contested; which is not surprising, as the evidence so far obtainable rests mainly upon the contradictory accounts of Sebastian himself.
To an unprejudiced mind, however, the assertion made by him to his friend Eden in old age, when he had no purpose in view and nothing to gain by it, "that he was borne in Bristowe, and at iiii. yeare ould he was carried with his father to Venice, and so returned agayne to England with his father after certayne years, whereby he was thought to have been borne in Venice," appears far more likely to be true than his statement in middle life to Contarini, the Venetian Ambassador, by which he sought to obtain wealth and honour, "I was borne in Venice, but was bred in England."
Practically, the birthplace of either father or son is of little moment, even to Bristolians; nor the question of earlier voyages, so long as the great fact remains--That it was from Bristol port, in a Bristol ship, manned by Bristol sailors, on the initiative of Bristol merchants, that John Cabot sailed on that memorable May morning four hundred years ago; and that to Bristol port he returned in the following August, after having planted the flag of St. George on the eastern-most point of Cape Breton, in the Dominion of Canada, and taken possession of that great northern continent for the King of England!--An achievement, be it remembered, preceding by more than a year the landing of Columbus on the Southern continent.
That land across the wide Atlantic had been discovered long before Cabot sighted it is now generally admitted. Setting aside the claims of Madoc the Welshman and the Irish sailor-saint Brendan as not yet proven, it is certain that the Icelanders planted a colony in Greenland as early as the tenth century. The colony perished, but its traditions remained and were the inciting cause of later voyages; for Bristol merchants trading with Iceland, heard thereof and sent out ships in search of the "new land" for seven successive years before the the sailing of the "Matthew"--thinking to get by way of it to the Indies, or "far Cathay," the name given to all countries east of the Persian Gulf.
Unfortunately for the future historian, Sebastian Cabot not only "romanced" concerning his birth-place, but also concerning his voyages; in consequence of which he has been, for centuries, honoured as the commander of the "Matthew" and the discoverer of America. Thanks, however, to modern research among musty rolls and ancient charters, it has been proved beyond a doubt that the commander of the Bristol ship and discoverer of the Continent was John Cabot. Whether Sebastian ever sailed at all on that first voyage is entirely conjectural. The evidence that he did rests mainly upon a reported conversation held with a stranger at Seville, in which he appears to have mixed up the discoveries of the first expedition with those of later ones, and ignoring his father's share, himself claimed credit for the whole!
A modern writer suggests in excuse that he feared to excite the jealous displeasure of the King of Spain, in whose service he then was, by attracting attention to the prior discovery of a continent which his Catholic majesty would fain claim as his own. Perhaps, however, as the conversation was transcribed not at second, but at third hand, the indictment may be best taken with the proverbial grain of salt; and, certainly, both on Sebastian's portrait and on his famous "Mappamundi," the claims of the elder Cabot are acknowledged.
Of John Cabot's birthplace no record exists, though some writers claim the honour for Bristol. Recent research, however, has proved him to have been of Norman extraction, descended from the Jersey Cabots or Chabots. In 1476, for purposes of commerce, he became a Venetian citizen. When he first came to London "to follow the trade of merchandise" is uncertain; but he ultimately found his way to Bristol, which he appears to have made his home for some years. As strangers were not allowed to remain within the city to trade longer than forty days, in all probability he resided with his Venetian wife, among others of her nation, in the eastern suburb (the north and west were occupied by Jews) near to St. Mary Redcliffe, where a district still bears the suggestive name of "Cathay."
An enterprising and wealthy merchant, Cabot was also an expert seaman, well versed in the science of navigation, and burning to take part in the search for those golden lands across the western ocean, whose existence mariners of all nations had so long suspected.
Among Bristol merchants, baffled in their own attempts to reach the goal, such a man was sure of meeting with not only sympathy, but ready co-operation. And in 1496 we find him obtaining from Henry VII. a charter, made out in the names of himself and his sons, Lewis, Sebastian, and Sanctus, empowering him and those associated with him to fit out sundry vessels to search for new lands, and take possession of them in the name of the King, he and his heirs to occupy such lands as Henry's vassals and trade therein.
The "Matthew," a small vessel, was accordingly fitted out, sixteen Bristol men and a Burgundian forming the crew, and in her Cabot set sail from the ancient port, May 2nd, 1497.
Voyaging nearly due west, he, to quote from the contemporary letter of Lorenzo Pasqualigo, "wandered about a long time, and at length hit land"--not Bonavista, Newfoundland, nor Cape Chidley, Labrador,--whose shores are ice-bound at that season; but Cape Breton, the easternmost point of Nova Scotia;--"he coasted 300 leagues and landed; saw no human beings, but brought to the King certain snares which had been set to catch game, and a needle for making nets; he also found some felled trees, wherefore supposing there were inhabitants, he returned to his ship in alarm." Two islands were subsequently sighted (St. John's and Newfoundland), but shortness of provisions compelled Cabot to return homewards without landing.
And so, after an absence of three months, the little ship, having safely braved the perils of those unknown seas and inhospitable shores, sailed
```"Up the Avon's gentle flood and under Clifton's height"
to her old anchorage beside the Quay.
On the 10th of August, her captain was in London relating his discoveries to the King. Henry was so pleased with Cabot's success that he gave him a pension of £20 for life, and "£10 to him who found (first sighted) the new isle." Pasqualigo tells how he was styled the "Great Admiral," dressed in rich silks, and had vast honours paid him, the English running after him "like mad people."
In these rejoicings Bristolians, we may be sure, took a prominent part, and many a city father and wealthy merchant, when office and shop were closed for the day, would wend his way across the ancient bridge and up Redcliffe Street to Cabot's home in "Cathay," to hear his stories of those distant lands, and see the wondrous things he had brought therefrom.
One relic, and one only, of that voyage Bristol still retains--the famous "rib of the Dun Cow" (cow-whale) preserved with religious care in Redcliffe Church; the following interesting reference to which was discovered in recent times among the City records. "1497--Item. Paid for settynge upp ye bone of ye bigge fyshe and... (writing illegible) hys worke brote over seas, vid. For two rings of iron iiijd."
According to Socino, who wrote on Dec. 18th of this same year, Cabot recorded his discoveries on a map and also on a globe; but no trace of either has been found, although La Cosa must have had access to them for his map.
In the following year, 1498, the King granted a supplementary charter in the name of John Cabot only, authorising him to take out six ships to the "lande and isles of late founde by the said John," at his own cost, to trade and colonize; giving him for the latter purpose "300 prisoners"--doubtless glad enough to be rid of them, the gaols being full to overflowing just then in consequence of Perkin Warbeck's rebellion. Bounties were also allowed to "James Carter, Thos. Bradley, and Lancelot Thirkill, of Bristowe" for fitting out three of the ships.
The expedition sailed, made further discoveries, and returned; but whether it was under the control of John Cabot is not known, for here all record of the elder Cabot ceases.
Sebastian says his father died about this time, but he gives neither date or place of burial. It seems most probable that John Cabot's death occurred at sea, and that Sebastian, who--though this has been contested--accompanied him on this voyage, returned in command. Strangely enough, no account of the expedition appears to exist among English records; the sole fact of its return being gathered from the presence in London of Lancelot Thirkill, June 6, 1501, and his repayment of the loan he had had of the King. From foreign sources, however, we know that it was John Cabot's intention in this expedition to follow the shore from his former discovery till he reached the equinoctial regions; and we also know that (whether under his command or that of Sebastian) the plan was pursued until lack of provisions compelled its abandonment.
The second expedition, taking a more northerly course than the first, visited Iceland, and then steering west, made the coast of Labrador, named by Cabot "De la Terra de los Baccalaos," "The Land of the Cod-fish," from the immense shoals of those fish which they encountered. Landing the colonists, though whereabouts in that inhospitable region is not stated, they sailed still farther to the north-west--through Hudson's Straits--until "affrighted by the monstrous heaps of ice swimming in the sea, and the continual daylight," they dared go no further.
Retracing their course they found many of the colonists dead of cold and hunger, and re-embarking the remainder, they sailed south as far as Cape Hatteras, when provisions failing, the little flotilla returned to England--Unsuccessful, the merchants who had freighted the vessels deemed, for they had not found the golden goal of Cathay nor even established a trading colony! But in reality successful beyond the wildest dreams of King or people, for there is no doubt that the Cabot charter and the voyages made pursuant to it, were always regarded as the root of England's title to her American possessions, and that, "to the daring and genius of Cabot is owing the occupation of the northern continent by an English-speaking race, with their vast energies and wealth. But for the Cabots Spain might have monopolized discovery in North as well as in South America."