The Farfarers

by Farley Mowat

  Conditions in south central Labrador during these two centuries evidently remained peaceable, but by about 1350 a marked deterioration in the weather (the onset of the so-called Little Ice Age) would have begun making life difficult for crofters. As the climate grew colder and stormier, it would have become increasingly difficult to carry livestock through the winters. And then, to make matters worse, Greenland Norse reappeared on the Labrador coast.

  In 1347, according to Icelandic annals, a Greenland vessel carrying eighteen men “that had been to Markland” arrived in Iceland. After spending the winter there, ship and crew sailed on to Norway.

  Most scholars have viewed this as a peaceful visit to Markland by Greenlanders in need of timber. But Greenland vessels of the period were small and could scarcely have had room for eighteen men together with their gear and a worthwhile cargo of lumber. And why would so many men have been needed for a tree-felling expedition? We must also ask why, instead of returning to her homeland, the ship sailed first to Iceland then on to Norway. Carrying wood to Norway would have been as pointless as carrying coals to Newcastle!

  I think it likely that these eighteen men made up a band of latter-day Vikings who had sailed to Labrador to raid Alban settlements, Tunit camps, or coastal shipping.

  The effects of increasingly adverse climatic conditions, together with piratical attacks, may eventually have led to the abandonment of Alban lodgements on the Labrador; but, before that happened, Okak hosted some unintentional European visitors, to one of whom we owe our most informative account of Alba-in-the-West.

  In 1558 a book dealing with a New World voyage was published in Venice. Translated into English, it was included by Richard Hakluyt in his The Principall Navigations, Voiages and Discoveries of the English Nation, as “The Discovery of the Isles of Frisland, Iseland, Engroenland, Estotiland, Drogeo and Icaria: made by two brethren, namely M. Nicholas Zeno and M. Antonio, his brother.”

  Nicolo Zeno, great-great-grandson of the aforementioned Nicholas, was the nominal author, having assembled the text from letters and other documents written by the brothers, which he found in the Zeno family archives.

  Although the accent was accepted in its own time, recent historians have generally rejected it because a number of names in the text and on the accompanying map do not correlate with modern names. What the critics fail to realize is that many names were intentionally invented to hide real identities.

  Merchant adventurers (which is what the original Nicholas and his brother were) of those times routinely tried to conceal the whereabouts of their sources of wealth. In consequence, Nicolo the younger, separated from his sources by nearly two hundred years, had to work with code names intended to mislead fourteenth-century competitors. And he did not have the code.

  The bulk of the book deals with a series of piratical voyages to Norway, Orkney, Shetland, and Iceland mainly conducted by the Zeno brothers serving as mercenaries in the employ of a chieftain whom they referred to as Zichmni. The chieftain’s real identity remains unknown, but he seems to have been a sea lord from Scotland’s western isles.

  The book includes the account of a transatlantic buccaneering expedition launched between 1386 and 1396 that appears to have been aimed at Alba-in-the-West.

  The text establishes that a raiding fleet led by Zichmni and Antonio Zeno crossed the Atlantic to what was almost certainly the eastern shore of Nova Scotia. Sailing northward, the fleet then either rounded Cape Breton Island or passed through Canso Strait into the Gulf of St. Lawrence to reach the vicinity of Pictou, Nova Scotia. Here Zichmni succeeded in provoking the natives to the point where they almost wrote finis to the entire expedition. The Indians may, in fact, have disposed of Zichmni himself after Antonio Zeno fled home with most of the fleet.

  The genesis of Zichmni’s foray was an accidental visit to the New World made some years earlier by a number of Hebridean or Icelandic fishermen. It is with their story that we are chiefly concerned.

  Zichmni, being a man of great courage and valour, had determined to make himself Lord of the sea. Wherefore, using always the counsel and service of M. Antonio, he determined to send him with certain barks to the Westward, for that towards those parts, some of his fishermen had discovered certain Islands [the words Islands and Lands were then interchangeable] very rich and populous: which discovery [Antonio, who heard it firsthand from the fisherman] in a letter recounts from point to point in this manner. . . .

  Six and twenty years ago [c. 1360] there departed four fisher boats, the which, a mighty tempest arising, were tossed for the space of many days very desperately upon the Sea, when at length, the tempest ceasing, and the weather waxing fair, they discovered an Island called Estotiland, lying to the Westward more than 1000 miles from Frisland [Iceland], upon which one of the boats was cast away, and six men that were in it were taken by the inhabitants and brought into a fair and populous city, where the king of the place sent for many interpreters, but there was none could be found that understood the language of the fishermen, except one that spoke Latin, who was also cast by chance upon the same Island, who in the behalf of the King asked them what countrymen they were: and so understanding their case, rehearsed it unto the king, who willed that they should tarry in the country; wherefore they obeyed his commandment for that they could not do otherwise.

  The distance travelled gives us our first clue to the whereabouts of the fishermen’s landfall. A voyage of one thousand nautical miles westward from the Hebrides would place a vessel only about three-quarters of the way across the Atlantic; whereas the same distance from Iceland would bring a ship to within a hundred miles of southeastern Labrador, the nearest part of North America. Either Labrador or Newfoundland could have been the landfall but, as we shall see, Newfoundland was the second “Island” to be visited by the fishermen.

  The six castaways found themselves in Estotiland, represented on the map put together by Nicolo the younger as part of Labrador. This agrees with the position given to it in the Theatrum Orbis Terrarum of cartographer Abraham Ortelius published in 1570. Petri, in his seventeenth-century map of the New World, is even more specific, plotting Estotiland on that part of Labrador north of Hamilton Inlet.

  The reference to another castaway, who spoke Latin, suggests a cleric, for in those times few secular folk knew Latin. He is not identified as a priest, but something of a Christian connection seems to be indicated by a later reference to certain old Latin books that were still held in high, if not sacred, regard.

  [The castaways] dwelt five years in the Island, and learned the language, and one of them was in divers parts of the Island, and reports that it is a very rich country, abounding with all the commodities of the world, and that it is little less [in size] than Island [Iceland], but far more fruitful, having in the middle thereof a very high mountain.

  Reference to a high mountain may help localize Estotiland as the region around Okak/Nain, for this is where the Torngat Mountains rise abruptly before beginning their northward march.

  The inhabitants are very witty [wise] people, and have all the arts and faculties as we have: and it is credible that in time past they have had traffic with our men, for he said that he saw Latin books in the king’s Library, which they at this present do not understand: they have a peculiar language, and letters or characters [known only] to themselves.

  “All the arts and faculties we have” is hardly the way fourteenth-century Europeans would have described wilderness inhabitants. Evidently the fisherman did not find the residents of Estotiland singularly different from himself, except in language. His description of them is in sharp contrast to the way he delineates other people he encountered later, whom he forthrightly calls “savages.”

  “It is credible [believed] that in time past they [the Estotilanders] have had traffic with our men [which is to say, with Europeans]” is a singularly significant statement.

  The comment on Latin books seems to echo references which occur in Islendingabók and Landnámabók relatin
g to the pre-Norse occupation of Iceland by Christians. Use of the phrase “the king’s Library” may be stretching things, but makes the point that the Latin books (which would presumably have been holy books) were still venerated.

  They have trade in Engroenland, from whence they bring furs, brimstone and pitch: and he says that to the Southwards, there is a great populous country very rich of gold. [There] they sow corn, and make beer and ale, which is a kind of drink that North people do use as we do wine. They have mighty great woods, they make their buildings with walls, and there are many cities and castles.

  Much of what Antonio describes in this passage is generalized information about the entire territory to the south of Estotiland, but the comment about trade with Engroenland (Greenland) has particular significance. Furs and pitch produced from the coniferous forests of the New World could have gone to Greenland for trans-shipment to Europe; and brimstone (sulphur) from Iceland could have reached Estotiland via Greenland.3

  They build small barks and have sailing, but they have not the lodestone, nor know not the use of the compass. Wherefore these fishers were held in great estimation, insomuch that the king sent them with twelve barks Southward to a country which they call Drogio: but in their voyage they had such contrary weather, that they thought to have perished in the seas: but escaping that cruel death, they fell into another more cruel: for they were taken [captive] in the country and most of them were eaten by the Savage people.

  The six were presumably sent south to Drogio because it was the chief settlement. The reference to a squadron of twelve vessels suggests that a shift from Okak to the south may already have been under way.

  The fishermen’s tribulations were not yet over. They were wrecked again, this time on a coast inhabited by “savages.” It appears from what followed that their ill-fated vessel was driven westward through Belle Isle Strait and the fishermen fell into the hands of Indians living on the north shore of the Gulf.

  But that fisher, with his fellows showing them [the savages] the manner of taking fish with nets, saved their lives: and [they] would go every day a fishing to the sea and in fresh rivers, and take great abundance of fish and give it to the chief men of the country, whereby he got himself so great favour, that he was very well beloved and honoured of everyone.

  The fame of this man being spread abroad in the country there was a Lord there by, that was very desirous to have him with him, and to see how he used his miraculous art of catching fish, insomuch that he made war with the other Lord with whom he was before, and in the end prevailing, for that he was more mighty and a better warrior, the fisherman was sent to him with the rest of his company. And for the space of thirteen years that he dwelt in those parts, he says, he was sent in this order to more than 25 Lords, for they had continual war among themselves, this Lord with that Lord, and he with another, only to have him to dwell with them: so that wandering up and down the country without any certain abode in one place, he knew almost all those parts. He says that it is a very great country and as it were a new world: the people are very rude and void of all goodness, . . . they have no kind of metal, they live by hunting, they carry certain lances of wood made sharpe at the point, they have bows, the strings whereof are made of beasts skins: they are very fierce people, they make cruel wars with one another, and eat one another.

  The Indians living along the north shore of the Gulf at this time would have been Algonkians, forebears of the Montagnais and Naskapi tribes who call themselves Innu.

  The most revealing aspect of this part of the story is the characterization of the natives, who are specifically called savages. They are described in the same general terms employed by almost every other early European observer. But this description is in clear contradistinction to what we are told about the inhabitants of Estotiland. That the two peoples were not one and the same is surely beyond question.

  The narrator and his companions spent several years amongst Indians, moving from tribe to tribe for some considerable distance westward along the north shore of the Gulf. The fishermen seem to have been adopted into the native population and treated well, as is implied by the phrase “well beloved and honoured by everyone.”

  Now this fisherman, having dwelt so many years in those countries, purposed, if it were possible, to return home into his [own] country, but his companions, despairing ever to see it again, let him go in God’s name, and they kept themselves where they were. Wherefore he bidding them farewell, fled through the woods towards Drogio, and was very well received of the Lord that dwelt next to that place; who knew him and was a great enemy of the other Lord; and so running from one Lord to another, being those by whom he had passed before, after a long time and many travels he came at length to Drogio, where he dwelt three years.

  This is a reasonably straightforward description of how he found his way back eastward until he came to the territory of a tribe on the northwestern shores of Belle Isle Strait, which he presumably crossed with Indian assistance. He then made his way south to Drogio, which I take to be Alba-in-the-West.

  Significantly, there is no description of the Drogians. Presumably the fisherman was now back amongst people with whom he felt familiar, and so did not repeat what he had already said about the Estotilanders. If the people of Drogio had been of another and markedly different culture, the narrator would surely have described them in at least as much detail as he employed in describing the Savages.

  When as by good fortune he heard by the inhabitants, that there were certain boats arrived upon the coast; wherefore, entering into good hope to accomplish his intent, he went to the seaside and asking them of what country they were; they answered, of Estotiland, whereat he was exceedingly glad, and requested that they would take him in to them, which they did very willingly, and for that he had the language of the [Indian] country, and there was none [in the ships] that could speak it, they used him for their interpreter.

  And afterwards he frequented that trade with them in such sort, that he became very rich, and so furnishing out a bark of his own, he returned into Frisland where he made report to this Lord [Zichmni] of that wealthy country.4

  Here we have a straightforward account of the narrator trading with Indian tribes, of how he prospered and eventually was able to sail back to Frisland.

  In sum, this is what was, for those times, a relatively unadorned record made by a European, cast away on the coast of Labrador, of how he was succoured by the inhabitants; travelled with some of them on a voyage bound south for Newfoundland; was again cast away, this time on the northern coast of the Gulf; lived for a time with coastal Indians; eventually found his way to Drogio; and sailed from there as a trader until he became rich enough to get his own ship or buy his passage back to Europe.

  The narrator clearly distinguishes between a native population and another people, who were of European cast. I conclude these were Albans and that, c. 1370, they still constituted a society recognizable to a European as being cut from much the same cloth as his own.

  It was this fisherman’s account which induced Zichmni to sail to the New World, but, as Antonio tells us,

  our great preparations for the voyage to Estotiland was begun in an unlucky hour: for three days before our departure that fisherman died who should have been our guide: notwithstanding this the Lord [Zichmni] would not give over the enterprise.

  So Zichmni sailed west without a pilot, and in consequence failed to find either Estotiland or Drogio.

  The fisherman had unwittingly repaid his New World benefactors by dying when he did.

  CHAPTER THIRTY - TWO

  GREENLANDERS

  OUR SHIP HAD STEAMED ALL NIGHT, THOUGH, STRICTLY speaking, there was no night for the sun sank below the horizon only to rise again within the hour. We had made an extraordinary passage across Baffin Bay, dreaded by mariners for its great gales and ice-filled seas; we crossed without hindrance in dead-calm weather. The waters had been so stilled that only our vessel’s wake disturbed a glassine surface in whic
h were reflected images of hundreds of towering icebergs drifting majestically southward from Melville Bay—nursery of Titans.

  When I went on deck at 6:00 A.M., land had just been sighted. Only it wasn’t land. It was a horizon-filled glitter of ice and snow that dazzled the mind as well as the eye.

  The Norwegian second mate came and stood beside me on the wing of the bridge.

  “See those black specks to starboard?” he asked, pointing with the stem of his pipe. “They’re islands along about Upernavik. Nothing but rocks. Nothing behind them but snow and ice. Nothing in front but a sea full of ice.” He paused to puff.

  “My grandfather used to seal in east Greenland in about this latitude. He had a name for the country. The mill-tail of hell! The frozen other end of the hot place, you could say. Yet he kept going back to it for fifty and more years. No need to tell a Norwegian to go to hell. He’ll get there on his own.”

  Kingiktorsuak is one of the pimples of black rock making up the fringe of coastal islands squeezed between the inland ice and the sea. It lies only fifteen miles north of the small town of Upernavik. As we steamed towards that port we came close enough to Kingiktorsuak so I could see its naked summit.

  At one time some small cairns had stood upon its crest. By 1824 all had collapsed or, what is more likely, been pulled apart by Eskimos hoping to find something of value within. In the summer of that year a man named Pelimut did find something lying beside one of the ruined cairns. The object was a small stone rudely inscribed with Scandinavian runes:1

  Erling Sigvatsson, Bjarni Tordsson and Einride Oddson made these cairns on the Saturday before Rogation Day, and runed well.

  Scholars argue about the year when this record was scratched on stone, but agree it would have been after 1135 and before 1333. So sometime between these dates Norsemen must have wintered near Upernavik, a thousand miles to the northward of Cape Farewell. The former valuta grounds of the departed Albans had come under new management.