Part 1

THE NATIONAL MAGAZINE.

CONTENTS.

NOVEMBER 1891.

RARE PORTRAIT OF COLUMBUS[1]— FRONTISPIECE.

EXPLORATIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN COAST, PREVIOUS TO THE VOYAGE OF HENRY HUDSON. Benjamin F. De Costa, D. D. 1 From advance sheets of “The Memorial History of New York.”

EARLY AMERICAN LITERATURE, T. J. Chapman 27

THE OHIO SOCIETY IN NEW YORK AND OHIO IN NEW YORK, James Harrison Kennedy 33 Gen. Thomas Ewing—Col. William F. Strong—Hon. George Hoadly.

DE SOTO’S CAMPS IN THE CHICKASAW COUNTRY, 1540-1. T. H. Lewis 57

CHICAGO PIONEERS, Howard Louis Conard 62 Hon. Isaac N. Arnold.

SOME ANCIENT METHODS OF PUNISHMENT IN MASSACHUSETTS, Hon. F. C. Sessions 67

GEN. WILLIAM E. STRONG,—A Memorial. 76

MISTAKES IN HISTORY; THE PILGRIMS NOT PURITANS, BUT SEPARATISTS, D. W. Manchester 82

WERE THE DUTCH ON MANHATTAN ISLAND IN 1598? Daniel Van Pelt, A.M. 91

A FAMOUS POLITICAL CONTEST IN ILLINOIS, W. H. Maguire 97 Hon. Henry H. Evans.

EDITORIAL AND HISTORICAL NOTES, 102 The Change of Name—What it Means—Field of American History—Material for War History—Growth of Historical Societies—Value of Their Papers—Historic Interest in Legend and Tradition—The Memorial History of New York—Preserving the Field of Valley Forge—Monument to Red Jacket—International Pan-Republic Congress—The Washington State Historical Society.

NOTES FROM THE HISTORICAL SOCIETIES, 105

RECENT HISTORICAL PUBLICATIONS, 107 Adam’s Historical Essays—Minnesota Historical Society’s Collections—Beginnings of Literary Culture in the Ohio Valley—J. Freeman Clarke’s Autobiography Diary and Correspondence—Howe’s Historical Collections of Ohio—Ohio Historical Society, Vol. III.

[1] Said by the present Duke of Veragua to be the most representative of the known portraits.

Published Monthly—Entered at New York Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter.

NOTICE.

With this NOVEMBER Number, the Magazine of Western History, appears under its new name

THE NATIONAL MAGAZINE.

A Journal devoted to American History.

(_See Editorial Notes._)

[Illustration: Engᵈ. by E. G. Williams & Bro. N.Y.]

The National Magazine.

_Vol XV._ NOVEMBER, 1891. _No. 1_

EXPLORATIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN COAST PREVIOUS TO THE VOYAGE OF HENRY HUDSON.

One of the earliest Greek dreams, prominent in the classic literature, was that of a beautiful island in the ocean at the far West. Perhaps, nevertheless, we have been accustomed to think of the conception too much as a dream, a piece of pure imagination; for it is absolutely certain, as Pliny and Strabo prove, that bold Phenician navigators passed far beyond the Pillars of Hercules into the vast Atlantic, discovering and naming the Canary Islands, pushing their observations far and wide. Possibly, like Columbus, as on his first voyage, they sailed over tranquil seas, smooth as the rivers in Spain, and through ambient air, soft as the air of Andalusia in spring, until they reached the Edenic Cuba, and thus furnished the foundation of that Greek conception of an exquisitely fair isle, the home of the immortals, an Elysium on whose happy, fragrant shores the shrilly-breathing Zephyrus was ever piping for the refreshment of weary souls.

In the fifteenth century the islands in the west formed the object of many a voyage, but even in 1306 Marino Sanuto laid down the Canaries anew, while Bethencourt found them in 1402. The Azores and the Madeira Islands appear in the chart of Pizigani in 1367, and the sailors of Prince Henry the Navigator went to the Azores, the Isles of the Hawks, in 1431, as preparatory to those voyages which, beginning with the rediscovery of the Cape Verde Islands in 1460, were destined to prepare the way for the circumnavigation of Africa, and thus open the way to the Indies by the Cape of Good Hope. Long before this, however, the Spaniards were credited with the establishment of colonies in the western ocean, and on the globe of Martin Behaim, in 1482, may be seen the legend crediting Spanish bishops with the founding of seven cities in a distant island in the year 734. In 1498 De Ayala, the Spanish ambassador in England, reported to his sovereign that the city of Bristol had for seven years sent out ships in search of the island of Brazil and the Seven Cities, which were commonly laid down in maps, together with the great island of “Antillia,” by many supposed to refer to the American Continent.

[Illustration: FERDINAND OF SPAIN.]

In the time of Columbus enterprise was generally active, and men everywhere were eager to realize the prediction of Seneca, who declared that the Ultima Thule, the extreme bounds of the earth, would in due time be reached. But Columbus would win something more than beautiful islands. He aimed at a continent, and would reach the eastern border of Asia by sailing west, in accordance with the early philosophers, who had accepted the spherical form of the earth, not dreaming that, instead of a few islands, scattered like gems in the ocean, a mighty continent barred the way. Dominated by the antique notions of the classic writers, Columbus, after encountering and overcoming every discouragement, finally sailed towards the golden West, finding the voyage a pleasant excursion, interrupted only by the occasional fears of the sailors, lest the light breeze might prevent their return to Spain, by blowing all the time the one way. At a given point of the voyage Columbus met with an experience, and made a decision, that perhaps determined the destiny of North America. October 7, 1492, Martin Pinson saw flocks of parrots flying southwest, and argued that the birds were returning to land, which must lie in that direction. He accordingly advised the Admiral to change the course of the ship. Columbus realized the force of the argument and knew the significance of the flights of birds, the hawk having piloted the Portuguese to the Azores. He was now sailing straight for the coast of North Carolina, and must inevitably have discovered our continent, but the parrots were accepted as guides, the course was changed to the southwest, and in due time the Island of San Salvador rose before their expectant eyes. All his efforts, therefore, after this memorable voyage, were devoted to the West Indies, and in the fond belief that he had reached fair Cathay. Consequently John Cabot was left to discover North America at least one year before Columbus sighted the southern portion of the western continent. Even then Columbus held that South America was a part of India, and he finally died in ignorance of the fact that he had reached a new world.

His error proved a most fortunate one for the English-speaking people; since, if he had confined on the western course, the Carolinas would have risen to view, and the splendors and riches of the Antilles might have remained unknown long enough for Spanish enterprise to establish itself on the Atlantic coast. This done, the magnificent Hudson would have become the objective point of Spanish enterprise, and a Spanish fortress and castle would to-day look down from the Weehawken Heights, the island of New York yielding itself up as the site of a Spanish city.

The mistake of Columbus, however, was supplemented by what, perhaps, may properly be called a series of blunders, all of them more or less fortunate, or at least in the interest of a type of civilization very unlike that of Spain, especially as expanded and interpreted in Central and South America. It is, therefore, to the series of nautical adventures following the age Columbus, and extending down to the voyage of Henry Hudson, the Englishman, in 1609, that this article is mainly devoted, showing how this entire region was preserved from permanent occupation by Europeans, until it was colonized by the Walloons under the Dutch, who providentially prepared the way for the English.

[Illustration: ISABELLA OF SPAIN.]

First, however, it may be interesting to glance at voyages made during the Middle Ages, considering whether they had any possible connection with the region now occupied by the city of New York.

That Northmen visited the shores of North America no reasonable inquirer any longer doubts. Even Mr. George Bancroft, who for about half a century cast grave reflections upon the voyages of the Northmen, and inspired disbelief in many quarters, finally abandoned all allusion to the subject, and subsequently explained that in throwing discredit upon the Icelandic narratives he had fallen into error.[2]

The probability now seems to be that the Irish had become acquainted with a great land at the west, and gave it the name of “Greenland,” which name was simply applied by Eric the Red to a separate region, when he went to the country now known as Greenland in the year 985. The next year Biarne Heriulfsson, following Eric, was blown upon the north Atlantic coast, and in the year 1000-1 Leif, son of Eric, went in quest of the land seen by Biarne, reaching what is generally recognized as New England. Others followed in 1002 and 1005, while from 1006 to 1009 Thorfinn Karlsefne visited the same region, then known as “Vinland the Good,” and made a serious but abortive effort to found a colony. Freydis, daughter of Eric the Red, visited New England in 1010 to 1012. Vague accounts in the Icelandic chronicles tell of a visit of one Are Marson to a region called White Man’s Land (Hvitrammanaland) in 983, ante-dating Eric’s appearance in Greenland. We also hear of Biörn Asbrandson in 999, and of the voyage of Gudlaugson in 1027. Certain geographical fragments refer to Bishop Eric, of Greenland, as searching for Wineland in 1121, while in 1357 a small Icelandic ship visited “Markland,” the present Nova Scotia. The voyages of Asbrandson and of Gudlaugson are generally viewed as standing connected with a region extending from New England to Florida, known as White Man’s Land, or Ireland the Great. In these accounts there is found no definite allusion to the region of the Hudson, though Karlsefne’s explorations may have extended some distance southwesterly from Rhode Island; while later adventurers, who came southward and followed the course of Are Marson, who was discovered in the country by Asbrandson, must have sailed along our shores. Still no record of such a visit now remains, which is not at all singular, since many a voyager went by, both before and afterwards, with the same failure to signalize the event for the information of posterity. “They had no poet and they died.”

Turning to the voyages of the Welsh, who, some think, reached the western continent about the year 1170, led by Madoc, Prince of Wales, there is the same failure to connect them with this region. Catlin, who visited the White or Mandan Indians, supposes that the Welch sailed down the coast to the Bay of Mexico and ascended the Mississippi; although there is just as much reason to hold, if the Mandans were their descendants, that they entered the continent and found their way westward from the region of Massachusetts or New York. The latter, however, might be favored, for the reason that our noble river forms to-day the most popular and certainly the most splendid gateway to the far West.

The voyages of the Zeno brothers, who are believed by most competent critics to have reached America about the close of the fourteenth century, and who left a chart, first published in 1558, show a country called “Drogeo,” a vast region which stretched far to the south, whose inhabitants were clothed in skins, and subsisted by hunting, being armed with bows and arrows, and living in a state of war. The description would apply to our part of the coast. At this period the Red Indians had come from the west, and dispersed the original inhabitants, known to the Northmen as Skraellings. The red man on this coast was an invader and conqueror, not the original proprietor of the land. In a very brief time, however, he forgot his own traditions and indulged in the belief that he was the first holder of this region, which was deeded to him by the Great Father in fee simple; and it was in this belief that, in turn, the simple savage conveyed vast tracts of territory to the white man, in consideration of trinkets and fire-water.

[Illustration: SEBASTIAN CABOT.]

So far as can be discovered, the Skraelling was the first proprietor, and by the Skraelling is meant what is called the “Glacial Man,” who appeared on this coast when the great ice-sheet that once covered the highlands of America was melting and sliding into the sea. The evidences of the so-called glacial man are found at the present time in the gravels of the Trenton River, of New Jersey, consisting of stone implements that seem to have been lost while engaged in hunting and fishing. With the disappearance of the ice and the moderation of the climate, these men of the ice-period spread along the Atlantic coast from Labrador to Florida, their descendants being the modern Eskimo and Greenlander, whose ancestors were driven northward by the red man when he conquered the country. The immediate region of the Hudson has thus far afforded none of the stone implements that abound at Trenton yet it may be regarded as beyond question that the first inhabitant of New York was a glacial man, ruder than the rudest red savage, and in appearance resembling the present Eskimo.

[Illustration: VERRAZANO.]

We turn, however, to note what, in this immediate connection, may be styled the course of maritime enterprise, the first voyage of interest in connection with our subject being the voyage said to have been made by Sebastian Cabot along the coast from Newfoundland in 1515. Upon this initial voyage many Englishmen based their claim, but in the present state of knowledge the expedition itself is considered debatable by some. That John Sebastian Cabot saw the continent in 1498, or one year before Columbus saw South America, can hardly be doubted; but convincing testimony is required respecting the alleged voyage down this part of the coast in 1515. If we accept the voyage as a fact, this expedition, whose objective point was Newfoundland, may be regarded as the first known English expedition to these shores.

Before this time, however, the Portuguese were very active, and had run the coast from Florida to Cape Breton, evidence of which they left in the “Cantino” Map, and in the Ptolemy of 1513. This was in continuation of the enterprise of the Costas, or “Cortereals,” who made voyages to the north in 1500-1-2. The expedition made a long our coast at this period left no memorials now known, save the maps to which allusion has been made. As early as 1520 the Spaniards began to navigate to the north from the West Indies, and in that year Ayllon reached the coast of Carolina, on an expedition to capture slaves, though Martyr speaks of the country he visited as “near the Baccaloos,” a term applied at that time to the region far south of Newfoundland. Nevertheless, in the year 1524, we reach a voyage of deep interest, for in this year the Bay of New York comes distinctly into view, Europeans being known for the first time to pass the Narrows. Reference is here made to the voyage of the celebrated Italian, Giovanni da Verrazano, in the service of Francis I. of France.

This celebrated navigator is supposed to have been the son of Piero Andrea di Bernardo de Verrazano and Fiametta Capella. He was born at Val di Greve, a little village near Florence, in the year 1485. At one time a portrait of Verrazano adorned the walls of a gallery in Florence. This portrait[3] was engraved for the well-known work entitled, “Uomini Illustri Toscani.” A medal was also struck in his honor, but no copy of it can now be found. The family, nevertheless, appears to have maintained a definite place in local history, the last known Florentine representative being the Cavaliere Andrea da Verrazano, who died in 1819.

Verrazano, the great explorer of the American coast, seems to have had a large experience as a sailor upon the Mediterranean, eventually entering the service of Francis I. of France, as a privateer or corsair, in which calling Columbus and many of the old navigators shone conspicuously, the profession at that time being quite creditable, even though dangerous. In 1523 Verrazano was engaged in capturing Spanish ships that brought the treasures of Montezuma from Mexico. In the following year he made his voyage to America, and one statement makes it appear that, subsequently, he was captured by the Spaniards and executed. Ramusio tells us that on a second voyage he was made a prisoner by the savages, and was roasted and eaten in the sight of his comrades. The light which we have at the present time does not suffice for the settlement of the question relating to the manner of his death, but we have overwhelming evidence of the reality of his voyage in 1524, which is vouched for by invaluable maps and relations contained in a lengthy letter addressed to his employer, Francis I.

This letter is of unique interest, especially for the reason that it contains the first known post-Columbian description of the North Atlantic coast, and the first pen-picture of the Bay and Harbor of New York. In connection with our local annals Giovanni da Verrazano must hold a high place. As might be supposed, the narrative of Verrazano has exerted a commanding influence upon historical literature. For more than three centuries it has furnished quotations. This fact has not prevented one or two occasional writers from questioning the authenticity of the Letter of Verrazano, though the discussion which followed simply resulted in the production of additional proof, especially that found in two maps previously unknown, establishing the authenticity of both voyage and letter, and taking the subject from the field of controversy.

[Illustration: VESPUCIUS.]

The voyage of Verrazano was projected in 1523. On April 25th of that year, Silveira, the Portuguese embassador at the Court of Francis I., wrote to his master: “By what I hear, Maestro Joas Verrazano, who is going on the discovery of Cathay, has not left up to date for want of opportunity, and because of differences, I understand, between himself and his men.... I shall continue to doubt unless he takes his departure.” It appears that he first went to sea with four ships, but met a severe gale and was obliged to return to port, apparently with the loss of two ships. After making repairs, he sailed for the Spanish coast alone in the Dolphin, the captain of the remaining ship leaving Verrazano, and giving color to the story of Silveira, that he had quarreled with his men. In the Carli correspondence, there is a reference to one Brunelleschi, “who went with him and unfortunately turned back.”

On January 17, 1524 (old style), Verrazano finally sailed from a barren rocky island, southeast of Madeira, though Carli erroneously says that he departed from the Canaries. The discrepancy is useful, in that it proves an absence of collusion between writers in framing a fictitious voyage. Steering westward until February 14th, he met a severe hurricane, and then veered more to the north, holding the middle course, as he feared to sail southward, by the accustomed route to the West Indies, less he should fall into the hands of the Spaniards,[4] who with the Portuguese, claimed the entire New World, in accordance with the decree of Pope Alexander. Hence the navigator, to avoid the Spanish cruisers, held his course westward in sunshine and storm, until the shores of the American continent appeared above the waves. March 7th he saw land which “never before had been seen by any one either in ancient or modern times,” a statement that he was lead into by the desire to claim something for France. He knew that his statement could not be exactly true, because, like all the navigators of his day, he was familiar with the Ptolemy of 1513, containing a rude map of the coast from Florida to 55° N. Evidently he did not attach any value to the explorations of the Portuguese as represented by the maps, and hence, after sighting land in the neighborhood of 34° N., he sailed southward fifty leagues to make sure of connecting with the actual exploration of the Portuguese, and then began coasting northward in search of a route through the land to Cathay. Columbus died in 1508, believing that he had reached Cathay, but in the day of Verrazano it was understood by many that the land found formed a new continent, though this was not everywhere accepted until the middle of the sixteenth century.

[Illustration: CARTIER.]

Navigating northward, Verrazano reached the neighborhood of the present site of Charlestown, South Carolina, describing the country substantially as it appears to-day, bordered with low sand-hills, the sea making inlets, while beyond were beautiful fields, broad plains, and vast forests. On landing they found the natives timid, but by friendly signs the savages became assured, and freely approached the French followers of Verrazano, wondering at their dress and complexion, just as, in 1584, Barlow, in the same locality, said that the natives wondered “at the whiteness of our skins.” The descriptions of Verrazano were so faithful that Barlow, though without credit, employed his language, especially when he says, speaking of the forests before reaching the land, “We smelt so sweet and strong a smell as if we had been in the midst of some delicate garden.” As Verrazano held northward, his descriptions continued to exhibit the same fidelity, being used by Barlow and confirmed by Father White. They were also confirmed by Dermer, who ran the coast in 1619, finding the shores low, without stones, sandy, and, for the most part, harborless. When near Chesapeake Bay, Verrazano found that the people made their canoes of logs, as described by Barlow and Father White. The grapes-vines were also seen trailing from the trees, as indicated by these writers; and, speaking of the fruit, Verrazano says that it was “very sweet and pleasant.” This language, being used early in the season, led to the rather thoughtless objection that Verrazano never made the voyage. The simple explanation is that the natives were accustomed to preserving fruits by drying them; and hence Hudson, in 1609, found dried “currants,” which were sweet and good, meaning by the word, “currant” what all meant at that period, namely, a dried grape. The letter of Verrazano contains exaggerations, like all similar productions. Cortez made Montezuma drink wine from cellars in a country where both wine and cellars were unknown. Cartier caused figs to grow in Canada, and Eric the Red called the ice-clad hills of the land west of Iceland, “Greenland.” Verrazano, however, falls into none of these flat contradictions, and often the objection to the authenticity of the voyage has grown out of the ignorance of the critic of very common things.