Читать книгу The Great White North - Helen S. Wright - Страница 5

Table of Contents

Early adventurers: Pytheas.—Dicuil.—Other.—Wulfstan.—The Norsemen.—Iva Bardsen.—The Cabots.—The Cortereals.—Willoughby and Chancellor.—Stephen Burrough.—Niccolò Zeno.—Frobisher.—Pet and Jackman.—Sir Humphrey Gilbert.—Davis.—Barentz.

A grave old world, majestically swinging upon its axis, the mystery of its northern extremity locked closely within its breast, is suddenly electrified by the news that at last man, for centuries baffled in his heroic efforts, has revealed its hidden secret, and that Old Glory, symbol of the daring of the moderns, floats from the Pole itself.

What a thrill of interest passes over the nations of the earth; universal excitement; universal rejoicings. Cablegram, Marconigram, carry the wonderful tidings under the seas or around the world in space.

The Pole at last! For ages the northern lights have beckoned the adventurous spirits to fathom the phenomena of the great unknown, have lured man into harbours fantastic with the frozen ice of centuries, have inspired him to cross the Greenland ice cap—or make his lonely trail through the “barrens” of North America or the desolate “tundra” of Siberia, his dauntless courage unquenched by previous records of privation, starvation, and death itself. One after another of intrepid explorers have left their stories of thrilling adventure, and record of their names or those of their benefactors to mark their personal discoveries.

What a history, what suffering, what sacrifice, compensated by great achievement, by heroism, by glory—by the additions to the world’s record of scientific knowledge!

Who were the early mariners that aspired to penetrate the unknown seas of ice? Far back in the centuries, Pytheas, bold adventurer, brought back rumours of an island in the Arctic Circle called Thule, at first welcomed by the ancients as a wonderful discovery, but afterwards discredited. In the ninth century some Irish monks, carried away by religious enthusiasm and an adventurous spirit, seem to have visited Iceland, and one, Dicuil by name, left written evidence, about 825, confirming the story of the island Thule, which some of the brethren visited, and reported there was no darkness at the summer solstice. Other and Wulfstan, athirst for discovery and knowledge, set sail in the reign of King Alfred, and in all probability the former rounded the North Cape and visited the shores of Lapland, though his exact discoveries cannot now be identified.

Sebastian Cabot

From the “Harford” portrait attributed to Holbein

The hardy Norsemen, realizing the advantage of hunting and barter among the natives of Greenland, made permanent settlements at Brattelid and Einarsfjord. As far as 73° north latitude a cairn was found, and upon a runic stone was a date 1235, and there is evidence that other settlers reached as far as latitude 75° 46´ N. and Barrow Strait in 1266 or thereabouts. Toward the middle of the fourteenth century Norway was cursed with the Black Death, and the colonists in far-off Greenland were forgotten. Forsaken by their own countrymen, they received little assistance from the native Eskimos, for we read they were overrun and attacked by them about 1349. A rare old document, the oldest work on Arctic geography, consisting of sailing directions for reaching the colony from Ireland, was written by one Iva Bardsen, the steward of the Bishopric of Gardar, in the East Bygd. Bardsen was a native of Greenland and went forth for the purpose of helping the sister colony. All of this early history is vague and unsatisfying, but it shows the adventurous spirit of those early mariners. Within the next hundred years, that is to say between 1348 and 1448, at rare intervals there was some communication with the Greenland settlements, but finally it ceased altogether. Later the desire to find a short route to India inspired merchantman and mariner to cross the Arctic Circle, and in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries expeditions of note, led by men of dauntless spirit, find their record upon the pages of history.

THE CABOTS

Born in Bristol, England, about 1476, Sebastian Cabot, ambitious son of an adventurous father, John Cabot, became zealous at an early age, through the successes of Columbus, to attempt a like achievement. Father and son proposed to Henry VII to sail west, and reach India by a shorter route. The king, pleased with the idea of entering a new field of maritime discovery, confided to the Cabots the execution of this plan. A patent was granted March 5, 1496. “It empowered them to seek out, subdue, and occupy, at their own charges, any regions which before had been unknown to all Christians.” They were empowered to take possession of such lands and set up the royal banner. They were authorized to return to the port of Bristol and no other, and a fifth of the gains of the voyage were to be turned over to the crown. The following year, 1497, John and Sebastian sailed from Bristol in the good ship Mathew.

By the records of an old map of this period the land first seen by the Cabots was the coast of Nova Scotia or Island of Cape Breton. The Cabots designated the mainland as “Prima Terra Vesta,” and is outlined between 45° and 50°, showing land called St. Juan, no doubt Prince Edward Island and mouth of the St. Lawrence. In the Privy Purse expenses of Henry VII there is the following interesting expenditure, “10th of August, 1497. To him that found the new Isle, £10.” No doubt, this modest sum was paid for Newfoundland.

With the enthusiasm of the first voyagers stimulating them to fresh effort, the Cabots secured a second “patent” to John Cabot, dated February 3, 1498, giving him the command of six vessels, of not more than two hundred tons each, and to quote the exact words of this document, “them convey and lede to the lande and isles of late found by the said John in oure name and by oure commandment.”

But before the small fleet was in readiness, the father died, and to his son fell the enterprise. With five vessels, Sebastian set sail from Bristol in May, 1498, and reaching the American coast ascended as high as 67° north latitude, probably passing into Hudson Bay. He determined to press on in a desire to find an open channel to India. His men became appalled at the dangers that beset navigation in those higher latitudes and mutinied, compelling him to retrace his course.

There is a vague rumour that he had with him upon this voyage over a hundred emigrants, whom he landed in these high latitudes, and who all perished from cold, although the season was midsummer. However, he brought back to England three natives of the countries he had visited, and for his successful discoveries of more than eighteen hundred miles of our North American coast, the king rewarded him by conferring upon him the office of Grand Pilot of England.

The interest and exertions of Sebastian Cabot did not abate, for this hero, extolled by contemporary writers for his character and courage, by his unflagging perseverance and indomitable will promoted the successful expeditions of 1553, for which he was appointed governor for life of the Muscovy Company. This company was established by the merchants of London for the purpose of extending commerce and trade in India and Cathay, and to find a northeast route that would expedite their enterprise.

WILLOUGHBY AND CHANCELLOR

Three ships were fitted out, and Cabot drew up instructions which are curious reading at this day. The expedition was under Sir Hugh Willoughby and Richard Chancellor, and sailed May 20, 1553, “for the search and discovery of northern parts of the world, to open a way and passage to our men, for travel to new and unknown kingdoms.” Cabot instructs these men to treat all natives “with gentleness and courtesy, without any disdain, laughing, or contempt.” If they should be invited to dine with any lord or ruler, they should go armed and in a posture of defence. He tells them to beware of “persons armed with bows, who swim naked in various seas and harbours, desirous of the bodies of men which they covet for meat.”

Of Sir Hugh Willoughby, first in command of the Bona Speranza, it is recorded that he was tall and handsome and had proved a valiant soldier; of Richard Chancellor, that he was beloved and genial and especially noted for “many good parts of wit.”

Thus on that bright morning in early May, these two commanders with their loyal crew sailed down the Thames amid the firing of guns and cheers of the crowds assembled upon the river banks to wish them God-speed. It was understood between the commanders that should their vessels become separated, they should try to meet at Wardhuys, “a good port in Finmark.”

They proceeded northward and passed the northernmost cape of Europe in July. At night during a dense fog and storm, the two ships separated, the third and smallest kept with Willoughby, and the two brave commanders and their crews never met again. Proceeding northward some two hundred miles, reaching Nova Zembla, Willoughby was forced by the ice to return to a lower latitude. In September, 1553, he harboured in the mouth of the river Arzina, in Lapland.

He wrote in his journal at this time: “Thus remaining in this haven the space of a weeke, seing the year farre spent, and also very evill wether,—as frost, snowe, and haile, as though it had been the deepe of winter, wee thought it best to winter there.”

In January, according to the record of Willoughby’s journal, all were living. In the spring Russian sailors, venturing in these high latitudes, were surprised to see two ships frozen in the ice. The relentless grip of the Arctic winter still held them fast; the hand of death in its most gruesome shape had reaped its harvest. Not a man survived. How brief the details, yet the imagination shudders at the agonies of their last days,—the cold, intense, congealing; the impenetrable, melancholy dark, and death, laying its icy fingers upon the despairing heart of each in turn and the “last Man,” surrounded by the stark forms of his companions, wrestling alone with inexorable fate.

Chancellor’s vessel, the Bona Ventura, reached the Bay of St. Nicholas, and landed near Archangel, which was then but an isolated castle. He undertook a journey to Moscow, which resulted in successful arrangements for commercial enterprise, Russia at that time being almost as little known as the far east. Returning safely to England, he was warmly welcomed as having proved the practical utility of Arctic voyages.

One of the companions of Chancellor on this voyage, Stephen Burrough, materially aided by Sebastian Cabot, then in his eighty-fourth year, set sail in 1556 from Gravesend, in a small pinnace named the Search-thrift. Before the departure, the ship and crew were visited by Cabot, and it is recorded of this farewell visit that “Master Cabot gave the poor most liberal almes, wishing them to pray for the good fortune and prosperous success of the Search-thrift; and for very joy that he had to see towardness of our intended discovery, he entered into the dance among the rest of the young and lusty company; which being ended he and his friends departed most gently, commending us to the governance of Almighty God.”

Sir Hugh Willoughby

Burrough skirted the northern coast of Lapland to the eastward, discovering the strait leading to the Kara Sea, between Nova Zembla and Waigat. As a result of “the great and terrible abundance of ice that we saw with our eyes,” Burrough explored no farther, but sailing into the White Sea wintered at Colomogro, returning home the following spring.

THE CORTEREALS

As early as 1500 a Portuguese, Caspar Cortereal by name, endeavoured to reach Cathay by the Northwest Passage and reached between 50° and 60° north latitude. After making captive some fifty-seven natives, for the purpose of making them slaves, he returned to Lisbon, October 18, 1501.

The following year he set sail again with two ships and is supposed to have reached Hudson Strait, where the vessels became separated. Caspar Cortereal and his crew were never heard of again.

The other ship returned to Lisbon with the unfortunate tidings, and a brother, Miguel, set sail from Lisbon, in the spring of 1502, on a searching expedition. Upon reaching Hudson Strait the ships separated to explore the various inlets and islands of the locality. Two of the ships reached the point of rendezvous, but the third, with Miguel Cortereal on board, never appeared. Thus the two brothers shared a like fate.

A third brother, Vasco, petitioned the king to equip another expedition to send in search of the missing men, but this the king refused to do on the ground that the loss of two was greater than he could afford to sustain. No tidings were ever received that could throw any light upon the sad fate of the bold mariners.

One of the most curious productions by geographers was a map published in 1558 by one Niccolò Zeno, a Venetian noble, whose ancestor of the same name had left with notes and journals a record of certain northern journeys made by him toward the end of the fourteenth century. He had entered as pilot the service of a mariner named Zichnmi, remained many years in his service, and, joined later by a brother called Antonio, spent some time in a country he named Frislanda. Later both brothers found their way back to Venice. The young Niccolò, discovering the mutilated letters and maps of these brothers, proceeded to prepare a narrative and elaborate map which was considered a most valuable addition to knowledge and continued to be an authority for more than a century.

The names are very curious and confusing, but are supposed to be identified as follows:—

Engronelant, Greenland; Islanda, Iceland; Estland, Shetland Islands; Frisland, Faroe Isles; Mackland, Nova Scotia; Estotiland, Newfoundland; Drogeo, coast of North America; Icaria, coast of Kerry or Ireland.

FROBISHER

The three voyages of Frobisher undertaken between the years 1576-1578 were in a great measure financed by a rich and influential merchant named Michael Lok, whose passion for geographical research led him to encourage the young explorer, who set out in the spring of 1576 in two small vessels, the Gabriel and Michael. The latter parted company in the Atlantic, and the Gabriel continued her voyage alone. Frobisher sighted land about July 20 and called it Queen Elizabeth’s Foreland.

Continuing on his course, he entered the following day the strait that bears his name, calling the land “Meta Incognita.” He made a landing and explored the land to some extent, returning to England with some bright yellow ore which aroused the enthusiasm of gold seekers and greatly assisted him in expediting his other voyages. His primary aim of seeking for the Northwest Passage was all but forgotten in the excitement caused by the possible discovery of untold wealth.

Queen Elizabeth issued instructions for his guidance upon future voyages: “Yf yt be possible,” so states the official document, “you shall have some persons to winter in the straight, giving them instructions how they may observe the nature of the ayre and state of the countrie, and what time of the yeare the straight is most free from yce; with who you shall leave a sufficient preparation of victualls and weapons, and also a pynnas, with a carpenter, and thyngs necessarie, so well as may be.”

The second journey, much better equipped than the first, brought home, beside specimens of plants and stones, large quantities of the supposed gold ore. But though the dream of an El Dorado was never realized, and the ore was eventually proved worthless, Frobisher’s greatest victory to science was establishing the fact that there were two or more wide openings leading to the westward between latitude 60° and 63° on the American coast. Of his personal character we note with interest that he was a brave, skilful leader of men, rough in bearing, but a strict disciplinarian, and carried through his designs with the enthusiasm of a true explorer.

PET AND JACKMAN

Arthur Pet and Charles Jackman, commanding two vessels, set out in 1580 with instructions to sail through the strait leading between Nova Zembla and Waigat, and from thence eastward beyond the Obi River. They reached Wardhuys on the 23d of June. About two weeks later they approached Nova Zembla, but ice retarded their advance. They sighted Waigat on the 19th of July. While trying to push their way along its southern coast, they were embarrassed by shallows and obliged to go round by the north. They forced their way between the shore and a low island only to be closed in by the ice, which stopped further progress. The ships were widely separated, and could only communicate with each other by the beating of drums or firing of muskets. Warping their ships as opportunity offered, they finally got in closer communication. Of the weather, they write at this time, “Winds we have had at will, but ice and fogs too much against our wills, if it had pleased the Lord otherwise.” Surrounded by fields of ice, enveloped in fog, they were obliged to make fast to icebergs, where, “abiding the Lord’s pleasure, they continued with patience.” By the 13th of August the season was considered too far advanced to penetrate farther. Pet had discovered a strait between the mainland and Waigat leading into the Kara Sea, and with this news he returned to England. Jackman wintered in a Norwegian port; sailing home in the spring, his ship with all on board was lost at sea.

SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT

The distinguished British naval commander, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, near relative of Sir Walter Raleigh and favourite of Queen Elizabeth, being ambitious to colonize Newfoundland, obtained in 1578 full power from the queen to undertake a voyage of discovery and settle such parts of North America “as no Christian prince or his subjects could claim from previous possession.” His second voyage was undertaken in 1583, and with five ships under his command, he sailed out of Plymouth Sound, June 11.

Martin Frobisher

A contagious disease breaking out on one of the vessels, the property of Sir Walter Raleigh, and commanded by Captain Butler, it returned to England; the four remaining, the Delight, the Golden Hinde, the Swallow, and the Squirrel, sighted Newfoundland about June 30. Here they landed August 3, taking possession of the harbour of St. John’s in the name of Queen Elizabeth. A miner, brought for the purpose of finding precious metals, should such exist in the newly discovered territory, claimed to locate a silver mine, which news was greeted with much enthusiasm by the entire fleet. So many of the crew having become ill, Sir Humphrey found it advisable to send home the Swallow with the sick on board. He then embarked on the Squirrel, of only ten tons, the smallest ship of the fleet.

Sailing out of the harbour of St. John’s on August 20, he reached by the 27th latitude 44° with fair weather. Two days later a gale arose preceded by a dense fog. The Golden Hinde and Delight were beaten in among the rocks and shoals. The Golden Hinde signalled to stand out to sea, but the Delight did not heed this, and was shortly afterward wrecked upon a shoal, where her stern was quickly beaten to pieces. A few of the crew escaped in a boat, but the captain and a hundred men went down with the ship. The heroic Captain Browne, only recently transferred from the Swallow to the Golden Hinde, when urged to save himself, spurned the idea and stood bravely at his post rather than bear the reproach of having deserted his ship, though that ship, himself, and all hands left aboard were doomed to destruction. The small boat into which a few had crowded, drifted about in the midst of the gale, which threatened every instant to swamp them. They were without food and suffered greatly from thirst. Fearing the overcrowded boat would founder unless materially lightened, a man named Headley suggested that lots be drawn; those drawing the four shortest should be thrown overboard. But one of their number, Richard Clarke, who had been master of the Delight, rose in the bow and answered sternly, “No, we will all live or die in company.”

Two more days passed with increased sufferings. They tried to appease the pangs of hunger with seaweed that floated on the surface of the waves, and they drank sea-water. On the fifth day the man Headley died and one other. All but Clarke were praying to God for death, rather than such continued agony. Clarke tried to encourage them by telling them they would surely reach land by the morrow, and if they did not make it by the seventh day, they might throw him overboard. The seventh day came at last, and by noon they sighted land, as Clarke had prophesied; in the afternoon they landed. They gave thanks to God, and after slaking their unbearable thirst with fresh water, the strong ones found some berries growing wild with which to feed the party. In several days they slowly regained their strength.

Later they rowed along the coast, hoping to reach the bay of Newfoundland and met some Spanish whalers who frequented these waters. They satisfied their hunger by eating berries and peas, landing at intervals for the purpose. Before long they fell in with a Spanish ship; the captain took them to St. Jean de Luz in the Bay of Biscay. Landing near the French frontier, they travelled through France and reached England about the end of the year 1583.

The loss of the Delight was a serious blow to Sir Humphrey Gilbert; of the five ships with which he had started only the Golden Hinde and the Squirrel survived. The impenetrable fogs which at this juncture enveloped these ships were most disheartening to the crew, and already the provisions on board the Squirrel were running low. Officers and men besought Sir Humphrey to return, but reluctantly, with no abatement in his enthusiasm for adventure, he only consented to alter his course, upon their promise to embark with him again the following spring. On August 31 they turned their bows toward home.

On the 2d of September, having hurt his foot and wishing it dressed by the surgeon, Sir Humphrey Gilbert boarded the Golden Hinde, and later repeated the visit to take part in an entertainment with the captain and crew. He mentioned the sorrow at the loss of the Delight, and of certain papers and ore that the Saxon miner had procured in Newfoundland. He was advised to remain aboard the Golden Hinde, the Squirrel being so encumbered with heavy artillery and other freight that she was not considered safe to face the storms so likely to occur in mid-ocean at that season of the year. After consideration, Sir Humphrey replied,—

“I will not now desert my little vessel and crew, after we have encountered so many perils and storms together.”

Being supplied from the Hinde with some necessary provisions, Sir Humphrey returned to the Squirrel.

On the 9th of September, in the latitude of England, the overburdened little craft of ten tons showed signs of foundering. Sir Humphrey was seen by the Hinde sitting in the stern of his vessel with a book in his hand and was heard to call out,—

“Courage, my lads! we are as near heaven on sea as on land!”

At midnight she sank with all on board. Thus terminated the first attempt to colonize the inhospitable shores of Newfoundland.

DAVIS

Following closely upon the disastrous voyage of Sir Humphrey Gilbert came the three voyages of Davis between the years 1585 and 1588. He discovered the strait that bears his name, opened a way to Baffin Bay and the Polar Sea, and surveyed a considerable extent of the coast of Greenland.

BARENTZ

Between the years 1594 and 1596, William Barentz made three journeys to the Arctic, losing his life in the disasters and privations of the last voyage. In this third voyage, he made his way to the sea between Spitzbergen and Nova Zembla, where he writes, “We came to so great a heape of ice that we could not sayle through it.” In August, 1596, they were surrounded by drifting ice which crushed around them with such alarming force as to make “all the haire of our heads to rise upright with feare.” They made every effort to extricate themselves from their perilous position, but on the 11th of September “we saw that we could not get out of the ice, but rather became faster, and could not loose our ship, as at other times we had done, as also that it began to be winter, so took counsell together what we were best to doe, according to the time, that we might winter, and attend such adventures as God would send us; and after we had debated upon the matter (to keepe and defend ourselves both from the colde and wild beasts), we determined to build a house upon the land, to keepe us there in as well as wee could, and to commit ourselves unto the tuition of God.”

While searching for material wherewith to build their winter-quarters, they discovered a quantity of driftwood for which they thanked God for a special act of Providence, and “were much comforted, being in good hope that God would show us some further favour; for that wood served us not only to build our house, but also to burne, and serve us all the winter long; otherwise, without all doubt, we had died there miserably with extreme cold.”

In spite of the intense cold which made the building of their hut most laborious, there was open water an “arrow shot” beyond their ship. They dragged their stores on hand sleds, and by October their dwelling, closely thatched with sea rack to keep out as much cold as possible, was completed, and “we setup our dyall and made the clock stride.” On the 4th of November, “wee saw the sunne no more, for it was no longer above the horizon; then our chirurgion made a bath (to bathe us in) of a wine-pipe, wherein wee entered one after another, and it did us much good, and was a great meanes of our health.”

Sir Humphrey Gilbert

Regulations were established, food was apportioned, and extra clothing distributed. Traps were set for foxes and other game, but soon the weather became so rigorous that for days they were snowed in and could not open their door. They were in darkness except for their fire, the smoke of which became almost unendurable. Ice formed two inches thick in their berths, and their misery may be imagined better than described.

On the 7th of December, they managed to secure some coal from their ship, and with it made a good fire which warmed them somewhat, though it nearly asphyxiated them. The cold becoming ever more intense and their supply of wood diminishing, their sufferings are noted repeatedly in their journal.

“It was foule weather again, with an easterly wind and extreame cold, almost not to bee endured, where upon wee lookt pittifully one upon the other, being in great feare, that if the extreamitie of the cold grew to bee more and more, wee should all dye there with cold; for that what fire soever wee made it would not warme us; yea, and our sake, which is so hot, was frozen very hard, so that when we were every man to have his part, we were forced to melt it in the fire, which wee shared every second day about halfe a pint for a man, where with we were forced to sustayne ourselves; and at other times we dranke water, which agreed not well with the cold, and we needed not to coole it with snow or ice; but we were forced to melt it out of the snow.”

They were often awed by the great volumes of sound, “like the bursting asunder of mountains and the dashing them to atoms.” About the middle of January, they were forced, under great difficulties, to secure more wood, and, making another trip to the vessel, they found much ice accumulated within, and returned to their hut with a fox caught in the ship’s cabin, which provided them with fresh meat.

On Twelfth Night they made a heroic effort to make merry. They drew lots for the honour of being king of Nova Zembla, and the gunner was royally installed. Imagining themselves back in Holland, they drank to the three kings of Cologne, soaking biscuit in the wine that for days they had set aside out of their scant store to celebrate this “great feast.” But the intense cold and storms that soon followed excluded every other idea, and for days they were shut in, trying to bring warmth to their frozen bodies with hot stones, but while sitting before the fire, their backs would be white with frost, while their stockings would be burned before they could feel heat to their feet.

Their stock of provisions was becoming exhausted, and although they had seen traces of bears and heard the foxes running over their heads, they could not secure any.

On January 24, Gerard de Veer, Jacob Keemsdirk, and a third companion, upon making their way to the seaside toward the north, saw the sun above the horizon for the first time. Not having expected this event for fourteen days later, Barentz was doubtful of their accuracy. On the 26th, one of their number who had long been ill died, and they dug a grave seven feet in the snow, “after that we had read certaine chapters and sung some psalmes, we all went out and buried the man.”

As daylight increased, they left their hut for short periods of exercise.

By May their impatience to leave this desolate spot prompted them to make preparations for departure, and without waiting to see if their ship would be navigable when once released from the ice, they repaired their two boats and awaited the first opportunity “to get out of that wilde, desart, irkesome, fearfull, and cold countrey.”

On the 13th of June, the twelve survivors left the miserable shelter that had been their home for ten months, and took to the open boats. Their sufferings and privations cannot be described; three of their number succumbed, and Barentz himself became too ill for service.

Davis’s Ships, the “Sunshine” and the “Moonshine”

As they passed Icy Cape, a headland of Alaska, latitude 70° 20´ N., longitude 161° 46´ W., Barentz asked to be lifted up to see it once more, and the dying man’s eyes rested with pleasure upon its cheerless coast.

On the twentieth day of June, Barentz was told that a man in the other boat named Claes Andriz was near death. He remarked he would not long survive his comrade. He was examining at the moment a chart of the countries and objects they had seen on their voyage. He turned to Gerard de Veer, who had made this chart, and asked him for something to drink. Hardly had he swallowed the liquid when he suddenly expired. Saddened and disheartened, the remnant of this unfortunate expedition struggled on until September, when they reached the coast of Lapland.

After a voyage of eleven hundred and forty-three miles, these heroes of the north left their boats in the “Merchant’s house” at Coola as “a sign and token of their deliverance.” A Dutch ship carried them to Holland, where they appeared before the curious crowds of Amsterdam in the costume they had worn in Nova Zembla. They were honoured by their countrymen and made to repeat their wonderful adventures before the ministers of the Hague.

To the early maps of the period at the close of the sixteenth century, Newfoundland and adjacent coast line had been added by the Cabots, who had reached as far as 67° north latitude, Frobisher Strait, an outline of the lands that he had visited, Davis Strait, and a portion of Greenland’s east coast. But, more important than the discovery of new territory was the stimulus to Arctic enterprise, which through Richard Chancellor had established valuable trading activities between England and far-distant Russia. The journeys of the Cotereals had opened a way to Spanish and Portuguese fisheries off the banks of Newfoundland, and Frobisher’s supposed discovery of gold in distant lands had given zest to discovery in the New World by the English, exemplified by Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s daring but unsuccessful attempt to colonize Newfoundland.