The mighty hemisphere of the West lay for countless ages shrouded from the knowledge of the rest of the world, as by the darkness of night, waiting for the appointed time of its revelation. That appointed time was the close of the fifteenth century, for although upwards of four hundred years earlier, after the reign of Alfred of England, and Charlemagne in France, America was discovered by some of those adventurous Scandinavian Vikings—the true ancestors of the so-called Anglo-Saxons, who, in their stout-built little ships, traversed all seas—still the knowledge of this discovery produced so little effect on the rest of the world, that afterwards, when America was rediscovered, the history of the Scandinavian colonisers was regarded as mythical. The antiquarian researches, however, of Rafn and others, leave no doubt of the fact. These bold adventurers, at home on the most perilous seas, having colonised Iceland, Greenland, and afterwards Newfoundland or Nova Scotia, came at length, in the year 1000, to the coast of America, where a colony was formed under the name of Vinland hin Goda, or Vineland the Good—so called from the abundance of wild grapes which grew there, and because the mildness of the climate and the fertility of the soil delighted the discoverers, accustomed as they were to the savage sterility and severe cold of Greenland and Iceland, and even of their native north.

The tract of country first explored by these earliest European discoverers is supposed to extend down the coast from about where Boston is now situated to New York. According also to the antiquarians, Rask and Finn Magnusen, boundary pillars were discovered by them, in the year 1824, on the eastern shore of Baffin’s Bay, exhibiting Runic inscriptions, and the date 1135. The generally uncivilised state of the rest of Europe prevented these early Scandinavian discoveries from producing any permanent or important effect. The time when this great discovery of a second world could be availing was not yet come. The precursors of knowledge had yet to be born; society lay under a night of barbarous ignorance, and glimpses of light, coming from whatever quarter they might, were lost in the density of its shadow.

The important thirteenth century arrived: Roger Bacon, Duns Scotus, Albertus Magnus, and Vicentius of Beauvais, lived. A breath of true life awakened the general mind, and geographical, as well as other knowledge began to be studied. In the meantime, Iceland, which must be regarded as the mother of colonisation, had lost her noble independent spirit with her republican form of government, and become a fief of the crown of Norway. In consequence, however, of her remote position, as well as her high reputation for learning, she was made the depository of the most ancient records of Europe, which was then agitated by internal convulsions, and here they were carefully preserved for ages. In this remote Ultima Thule lay sealed up, as it were, the keys of a mighty knowledge, which would unlock a second world. Here, accordingly, in the month of February, 1477, came Christopher Columbus, “the sea,” says he, “not being at that time covered with ice, and being resorted to by traders from Bristol.” This is singular. Some historians doubt whether Columbus heard any tidings here of the early discovery and colonisation of America. No doubt he did; no doubt, in his conversations with Bishop Skalholt and other learned men, he would hear the extraordinary fact of a great country having been discovered by their ancestors beyond the Western Ocean. They had found land where he had believed it to exist, whether a part of Asia or not was of no consequence, and this information would not be lost on a mind like his. No doubt, also, hither came the Cabots, merchants of Bristol, who, in their process of discovery, sailed northward, as if following the guidance of Icelandic tradition, and arrived on the dreary coasts of Labrador, before Columbus discovered the mainland of America.

Columbus having, at the age of twenty-one, sailed, as we have said, to Iceland, “to see if it were inhabited,” returned to Spain resolved to navigate the great Western Sea, and discover the land which lay beyond. He was one of the elect of Providence, men of the time and the hour, whose work is appointed them to do, and spite of impediment, discouragement, and adversity, who must succeed in doing it. The history of his eventful life is well known; with inflexible resolution and deep religious ardour, he pursued his object, and finally won the ear of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. On August 3rd, 1492, he set sail as Admiral of the Seas and Lands which he expected to discover, and on October 11, after a tedious voyage and long anxiety, stepped on shore of one of the Bahama Islands with tears of joy and fervent thanksgiving; and after kissing the soil of the New World, he planted here the cross, in token of Christian possession.

Gold dust and Japan, or Cipango, as it was called, were the objects of search, and Columbus, after twelve days, again set sail in the hope of finding them. He found several other of the West India Islands, and finally the beautiful Cuba, the most beautiful island in the world. He believed that now indeed he had found the long-sought-for Cipango; and San Domingo, which he next discovered, he imagined to be the ancient Ophir, the source of all the riches of Solomon.

Columbus’s discoveries were confined principally to the West India Islands; nor was it till his third voyage that he touched the mainland, near the mouth of the river Oronoco.

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.

The report which the adventurers carried home of the severity of the climate abated the ardour of colonisation for a few years. At length, in an interval of peace, the remembrance of that magnificent river, which exceeded in grandeur any river of Europe, awoke anew the spirit of adventure, and Francis de la Roque, lord of Robertval in Picardy, was appointed viceroy of the unknown regions of Norimbega, that is to say, all the vast territories around the gulf and river of St. Lawrence, with all its islands; and Cartier, on account of his knowledge and experience, was associated in the enterprise, as captain-general and chief pilot. Cartier was also commissioned to take with him artisans of all kinds, that useful colonies might be established. We must suppose that but little public enthusiasm existed on the subject; for Cartier had to ransack the jails to make up his complement of men. This was an ill-starred enterprise altogether; the two leaders did not even act in concert. Cartier set sail long before his superior, ascended the St. Lawrence, built a fort near the present site of Quebec, where he passed the winter in hostility with the natives, and in the spring set sail homeward, meeting Robertval on his way out, off Newfoundland. Robertval, though he remained a twelvemonth in his new territory of Norimbega, effected very little, and so returned home.

For the next fifty years nothing was done by France, which was absorbed by her own internal conflicts—feudalism against monarchical power, Calvinism against Catholicism. In the meantime, however, the value and importance of the northern fisheries increased, and in 1578 no less than one hundred and fifty French ships were employed in the Newfoundland trade.

While the French were thus vainly endeavouring to colonise the regions of Acadia and Canada lying around the bay and along the river of St. Lawrence, the Spaniards were occupied in the south. The brilliant discoveries of Spain had kindled the most extraordinary enthusiasm throughout the nation for adventure beyond the seas. Nothing was too extravagant for their imaginations to conceive of the new world, where it was believed “that the natives ignorantly wore the most precious ornaments, and the sands of every river sparkled with gold.” Spaniards, high and low, young and old, rich and poor, were all ready to rush to the conquest and the spoil. Among others, Juan Ponce de Leon, an aged veteran in the wars of Granada, a companion of Columbus in his second voyage, and some time governor of Porto Rico, fitted out three ships at his own expense, and resolved to go forth to seek his fortune, and more especially to seek for that which he had been told existed in those paradisiacal regions of the sun and the palm—a fountain whose waters possessed the extraordinary virtues of restoring or perpetuating youth. In search of this poetical fountain, Ponce de Leon set sail with his three ships, in March 1512. On Easter Sunday, which the Spaniards call Pascua Florida, the aged adventurer discovered a glorious land, covered with woods, which were brilliant with flowers. Spite of the marvellous beauty of the country, to which he gave the name of Florida, it was some time before he was able to land, in consequence of stormy weather. At length a landing was effected, and formal possession taken of the country; but though he remained exploring the coast for several weeks, the fountain of youth was nowhere to be found, the natives were hostile, and Ponce de Leon returned to Porto Rico still an old man. A new and splendid region had, however, been discovered, and thither Ponce de Leon returned a few years afterwards, intending to select a site for a colony, but in a contest with the natives was mortally wounded.

Ponce de Leon’s discovery had opened a new path for Spanish commerce through the Gulf of Florida, and in 1516 Diego Miruelo, a bold sea captain, trafficking with the natives, brought away gold which he had obtained in exchange for toys, and thus gave a yet more brilliant colouring to the reports current regarding the wealth of this new region.

In 1517, Francisco Fernandez de Cordova discovered the province of Yucatan and the Bay of Campeachy, but soon afterwards, like Ponce de Leon, was mortally wounded by the natives. The pilot of Fernandez in the following year conducted another squadron to the same shores, under the command of Grijalva. The amount of gold which was here collected, and the costly presents of the unsuspecting natives together with the rumours of the magnificent empire of Montezuma, excited the general imagination, and led to the enterprise of Cortes.

While events were thus opening the way for the conquest of Mexico, seven wealthy men of St. Domingo, at the head of whom was Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon, despatched two vessels as slavers to seek for labourers in their mines and plantations. These ships were driven northward from the Bahamas by adverse winds upon the coast of Carolina, which they called Chicora; they anchored at the Cambahee river, to which they gave the name of Jordan. The natives received them with great kindness, being new to the sight of Europeans, and visited their ships in crowds, both with curiosity and good faith, but when they were all below, the hatches were suddenly closed, and the perfidious Spaniards sailed away. One of these ships was lost, the captives in the other refused food, and died of starvation and distress of mind.

Again de Ayllon sailed with three ships to the newly-discovered Chicora, of which he was appointed governor, intending now to take formal possession. But the largest of his ships was stranded and lost at the mouth of the river Cambahee, and he himself, though received with apparent kindness by the natives, narrowly escaped with his life, many of his men having been killed, the friendly aspect being merely a feint on the part of the incensed natives to get them more completely into their power. This unsuccessful attempt preyed so severely upon de Ayllon’s heart as to cause his death.

But now let us return to the discoveries of Francisco Fernandez de Cordova and Grijalva on the northern coast of Yucatan. On approaching the shore, the Spaniards had been astonished to find no longer rude and half-clad savages, but people well dressed in cotton garments, and dwelling apparently in edifices of stone. They were of a bold and martial character, and received the strangers with demonstrations of hostility. Cordova being, as we have said, wounded, his expedition hastened back to Cuba, only however to be followed by a second, when the southern coast of Mexico was discovered, and Juan de Grijalva carried home with him a large amount of treasure obtained by traffic with the natives. Valesquez, the governor of Cuba, highly pleased with the result of this expedition, resolved on the conquest of this rich country, and hastily fitted out an armament of eleven vessels for this purpose, giving the command to Fernando Cortes.

In March, 1519, Cortes landed in Tabasco, a southern province of Mexico, where he defeated the natives with great slaughter. Advancing from this point westward, he reached San Juan de Ulloa, where he was kindly received by two officers of the monarch, Montezuma, who had been sent to inquire into the object of his visit, and to offer him any assistance which he might require. Cortes replied with great courtesy that his business was important, and could be confided to no less a person than Montezuma himself. The great monarch of Mexico, not being accustomed to such interviews, his officers made valuable presents to Cortes, and set before him the impossibility of his request. In vain; Cortes was determined; messengers were sent backwards and forwards, and magnificent presents still made to Cortes, with the request finally that he would depart. But no; Cortes destroyed his vessels, to prevent his soldiers escaping, and marched to the capital of Mexico. As he advanced, the disaffected in Montezuma’s kingdom joined him. Montezuma was overcome by alarm.

The Spaniards marched onward; and the vast plain of Mexico opened before them. It was covered with villages and cultivated fields, all wearing an aspect of prosperity. In the middle of the plain, partly encompassed by a lake, and partly built on the islands within it, towered aloft the city of Mexico, like some gorgeous fairyland city. The Spaniards could scarcely believe their senses; it seemed more like a splendid vision than reality. Montezuma received the strangers with great pomp and kindness; admitted them into the city; appropriated to their use splendid accommodations; supplied all their wants, and presented them with gifts.

Cortes, astonished at what had befallen him, and anxious for his own safety, thus shut up in the very heart of a city which might, after all, be hostile, resolved on a bold expedient, which he accomplished with wonderful success. He seized the person of Montezuma, whom he held as a hostage for the good faith of the nation. And thus, having the astonished monarch in his power, so wrought upon his mind, as to induce him to acknowledge himself a vassal of the crown of Spain, and subject his kingdom to an annual tribute.

Cortes, after this, was compelled to return to Cuba for a short time, and the Mexicans, incensed by the cruelties and wanton excesses of the Spaniards, who remained in charge of the monarch and his capital, rose in arms. Cortes returned, and at once threw aside the mask of moderation which he had hitherto worn. He compelled Montezuma, who was in his power, to interpose with his exasperated people; the captive monarch did so, and an aspect of submission was for the moment assumed. The Mexicans reverenced their monarch almost as a divinity, and bowed their heads and dropped their weapons at sight of him; but when, in obedience to the commands of Cortes, he endeavoured to awaken amicable sentiments in their breasts towards the Spaniards, their rage burst forth in fury, and snatching up their arms, they assailed their enemies with tenfold determination, and in this fresh onset the unfortunate Montezuma was himself mortally wounded. The Mexicans, seeing their king fall by their own hands, believed that the vengeance of heaven was pursuing them, and fled; and Montezuma, refusing all food, survived but a short time.

The position of Cortes, in the heart of an exasperated nation, was perilous in the extreme. He commenced his retreat from the capital, and fighting almost every yard of ground, found himself on the sixth day in a spacious valley, hemmed in by an innumerable army. Nothing was left but to conquer or die; and they were but a handful of men. Multitudes thronged in upon them, sufficient alone to trample them to dust. At that moment Cortes beheld the great Mexican banner advancing, and recollecting to have heard that upon its fate depended the fate of every Mexican battle, resolved, at the head of his bravest men, to hew his way to the standard, and gain possession of it. He did so. The Mexicans, panic-stricken, threw down their arms and fled to the mountains.

The determination of Cortes was undaunted; he resolved to accomplish the conquest of Mexico, and four months after his retreat, having received fresh supplies and reinforcements, he again departed for the interior, and after a siege of twenty-five days, the successor of Montezuma having fallen into his hands, the city yielded, and the wealthy Mexico became a province of Spain. This occurred in August, 1521.

While the conquest of Mexico was taking place, another important event occurred in the history of Spanish discoveries. Ferdinand Magellan, having spent several months in exploring the coast of South America, finally passed through the strait which bears his name, thus accomplishing the discovery so long-sought-for of a western passage to India.