5. Heroes and Villains of the Age of Exploration: The Journeys of John Cabot

My Name is King Henry VII: From Exile to King of the World

I was born in 1457 at Pembroke Castle in Wales, the son of Edmund Tudor and Lady Margaret Beaufort. My father died before I was born, leaving my mother, barely a teenager herself, to raise me. My claim to the English throne came through my mother, who was a descendant of John of Gaunt, son of King Edward III. However, my claim was a fragile one, and England at the time was torn apart by the Wars of the Roses between the rival houses of Lancaster and York. My life quickly became one of caution and escape, and when the Yorkists took control, I was sent into exile in Brittany and France. I spent most of my youth as a guest—though sometimes a political pawn—waiting for the chance to press my claim.

The Road to the Throne

Years passed, and I watched from afar as England’s crown passed between Yorkist rulers. When King Richard III seized the throne in 1483, many in England turned against him. I gathered supporters—discontented nobles, loyal Lancastrians, and even some Yorkists who saw me as a compromise candidate. In 1485, I landed at Milford Haven with a modest force and marched inland to meet Richard at Bosworth Field. The battle was fierce, but fate turned in my favor. Richard was killed in combat, and I was crowned Henry VII on the battlefield itself. My reign began that day, with the hope of ending decades of civil war.

Uniting Lancaster and York

One of my first acts as king was to marry Elizabeth of York, daughter of King Edward IV. This union joined the red rose of Lancaster with the white rose of York, symbolizing the end of the conflict. The marriage also strengthened my claim, uniting rival factions under one Tudor dynasty. We built a court focused on stability, loyalty, and the restoration of royal authority. I worked carefully to keep the nobility in check, limiting their power to ensure the crown remained strong.

Strengthening the Crown

My reign was guided by caution and calculation. England’s treasury had been weakened by years of war, so I focused on building a sound financial base. Through careful taxation, trade agreements, and frugal spending, I restored the crown’s wealth. I was not a king to seek glory through endless battles; instead, I sought to avoid costly wars and to secure England’s position through diplomacy and alliances, arranging marriages for my children that linked us to Spain, Scotland, and the Holy Roman Empire.

Venturing into Exploration

In 1496, I granted letters patent to the Venetian navigator John Cabot, authorizing him to sail under the English flag in search of new lands. His voyage in 1497 led to the sighting of lands in North America, likely Newfoundland or Cape Breton Island. Though smaller in scale than the voyages of Spain and Portugal, Cabot’s discoveries gave England its first claim across the Atlantic. I saw exploration as a calculated risk—one that could open trade routes without draining the kingdom’s resources.

Challenges and Rebellions

My reign was not without unrest. Pretenders like Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck tried to rally Yorkist support against me. Each rebellion was met with force or diplomacy, and I made sure to show both the mercy and authority expected of a monarch. By the end of my reign, such threats had faded, and England was more secure than it had been in decades.

Final Years and Legacy

Elizabeth of York died in 1503, a loss that left me in deep mourning. I spent my final years continuing to strengthen the crown’s finances and ensuring the succession for my son, Henry VIII. When I died in 1509, I left him a kingdom that was peaceful, wealthy, and respected. My rule may not have been marked by the pageantry of great conquests, but it laid the foundation for the Tudor dynasty’s power. I had turned a crown won on a battlefield into a stable throne for the generations that followed.

A Changing World – Told by King Henry VII

When I took the throne of England in 1485, the world was in the midst of remarkable change. Across the seas, kingdoms were reaching beyond their borders, driven by the promise of wealth, new lands, and influence. The Portuguese had mastered routes along the coast of Africa, tapping into gold, ivory, and the spice trade through the East. Spain, newly united under Ferdinand and Isabella, had just seen Christopher Columbus return from a voyage that promised a direct passage to Asia through lands across the Atlantic. These developments shifted the balance of power in Europe, and as a monarch, I knew that England could not remain a mere spectator.

England’s Place Among Rivals

At the time, England’s influence in trade and exploration lagged behind Portugal and Spain. The Wars of the Roses had drained our resources and weakened our presence in the wider world. Yet the seas offered opportunity as much as danger. While Spain claimed new islands in the Caribbean and Portugal solidified its control over routes to the Indian Ocean, I saw the potential for England to open its own path—one that did not directly challenge their territories but offered a share of the riches flowing from distant lands.

The Need for Caution and Strategy

Open conflict with Spain or Portugal would have been foolish. Both nations had stronger naval power and alliances that could isolate England. Instead, I chose a path of calculated risk. If we could find a northern route to Asia, beyond the reach of Iberian claims, England could trade directly for silk, spices, and precious metals without confrontation. This was not simply about wealth—it was about establishing England’s place in a new order where maritime power could rival armies on the field.

The Opportunity in Bristol

Bristol was a city eager for new ventures. Merchants there had long traded with Ireland and the coasts of France and Spain, and rumors persisted of rich fishing waters far to the west. It was from this port that the Venetian navigator John Cabot came to me with a proposal: to sail west under the English flag in search of new lands and routes to Asia. His plan offered exactly what I sought—an exploration that would not violate existing treaties yet might yield claims to lands untouched by Spain or Portugal.

Cabot’s Voyages in the Rivalry of Nations

When I granted Cabot his letters patent in 1496, it was more than the commissioning of a single man. It was a signal that England would take part in this contest of discovery. His first voyage in 1497 was modest, but the news of landfall—likely on the coast of Newfoundland—gave England a claim in the New World. Though it was not the fabled passage to Asia, it placed us alongside Spain and Portugal in the race for overseas territory.

Looking to the Future

I understood that England’s resources would not allow for grand fleets or vast colonial projects in my lifetime, but Cabot’s voyage was a first step. In the decades to come, others would build upon it, and England would one day rival the great maritime powers. The Age of Exploration was as much about planting seeds as harvesting riches, and I intended that the Tudor name would be remembered as one that looked beyond England’s shores to the wider world.

My Name is John Cabot: The Man Who Found America for England

I was born around 1450 in the bustling port city of Genoa or perhaps Gaeta—records from my early years are not clear. My birth name was Giovanni Caboto. I grew up surrounded by the sea, sails, and merchants’ tales of distant lands. From a young age, I was fascinated by maps and the possibilities of trade routes beyond the familiar Mediterranean. My family moved to Venice when I was still young, and it was there that I truly found my footing as a seafarer. Venice was a city of merchants and navigators, and I became a citizen in 1476, allowing me to trade across its vast network. I learned ship design, navigation, and the art of negotiation—skills that would later shape my career.

Dreams of New Routes

By the late 1480s, the world of trade was changing. The Portuguese and Spanish were sailing far into the Atlantic and beyond, seeking spices and gold without relying on overland routes through the East. I believed there might be a faster way to reach the riches of Asia—by sailing west across the northern Atlantic. My ideas were bold, but they found little support in Italy. So, I began to look elsewhere for patrons willing to take a chance on my vision.

Journey to England

Around 1495, I moved to Bristol, a thriving English port. There, I began presenting my plan to merchants and shipowners. I proposed sailing west from England to find a direct route to Asia, promising them untold riches and opportunities. My timing was fortunate—King Henry VII had watched Spain’s Christopher Columbus return from his own westward voyages and was eager to give England a stake in this new age of exploration. In 1496, the king granted me letters patent to explore new lands in his name.

The Voyage of 1497

In May 1497, I set sail from Bristol aboard the Matthew, a small but sturdy ship. The Atlantic was not kind, but we pressed on. After weeks at sea, we sighted land on June 24—coastline that I believed to be Asia, though it was in fact part of North America, likely Newfoundland or Cape Breton Island. We did not linger long, but I claimed the land for England and returned home with news of fertile fishing grounds and promising prospects. My arrival in Bristol was met with celebration, and Henry VII rewarded me generously.

The Final Expedition

Buoyed by success, I prepared for a second voyage in 1498 with a fleet of five ships. This time, I intended to explore further south and establish trade. We carried goods meant for barter, hoping to return with treasures. But what happened after we sailed remains a mystery. Storms struck, and some ships were forced to turn back to Ireland. My own fate is uncertain—some say I perished at sea, others that I reached the American coast again before being lost on the return journey.

Legacy and Influence

Though my life ended in uncertainty, my voyage of 1497 marked the first known European landing on the North American mainland since the Norse explorations centuries earlier. My journey gave England its first claim to territories across the Atlantic, a claim that would shape centuries of history. My son, Sebastian, continued exploring after me, keeping the Cabot name alive in the annals of discovery. I may not have found Asia, but I opened a door that England would one day stride through with power and purpose.

My Name is John Cabot: Beginnings in Italy, to England, to the Americas

I was born Giovanni Caboto around the year 1450, in either Genoa or the small port of Gaeta. The exact place matters less than the fact that I was born into a world of ships, traders, and stories of distant horizons. From the earliest days I can remember, the smell of salt and tar hung in the air, and the conversations in the streets were filled with talk of markets, merchants, and faraway goods. My childhood was not one of noble halls or great estates, but of bustling docks and the constant reminder that the sea was both an opportunity and a danger.

The Move to Venice

When I was still a young man, my family moved to Venice, one of the great powers of the Mediterranean. Becoming a citizen there in 1476 opened doors to trade across a vast network that stretched to the Levant and beyond. Venice was alive with the clamor of merchants, the shouting of sailors, and the clink of coins. Here I learned the arts that would shape my life: how to navigate by sun and stars, how to read the subtle marks on a chart, how to judge the seaworthiness of a vessel, and how to negotiate with a sharp tongue and a careful eye.

Learning the World’s Routes

In those years, the world seemed to be shrinking. Caravans brought silk, spices, and precious stones from Asia, and ships carried them westward through the Mediterranean. But these goods passed through many hands, each taking a share of the profit, making them expensive and slow to arrive. I began to imagine faster ways to reach these sources of wealth. I listened to sailors’ tales of unknown islands in the Atlantic and of lands that might be reached by sailing west rather than east. My thoughts turned often to the horizon and the possibilities it promised.

Struggles and Restlessness

Though Venice offered opportunities, it was also a city bound by traditions and guarded by powerful guilds. Breaking into the higher ranks of trade was difficult for someone without deep family wealth or influence. I longed for a chance to prove myself through something bold, something that would make my name known beyond the canals. My ambitions outgrew the confines of the Adriatic, and I began to consider where else my skills might be valued.

Journey to England

By the mid-1490s, I had made my way to England, drawn by whispers that the merchants of Bristol were interested in ventures across the western sea. England was not yet a great naval power, but it was restless and ambitious under King Henry VII. The idea of finding a direct route to Asia by sailing west was bold, yet it seemed to stir the same excitement in the merchants that it had long stirred in me. I presented my vision, not as a dreamer’s fancy, but as a calculated venture that could bring glory and profit. In that moment, I felt I had found the stage on which to act out the ambitions I had carried from the docks of my youth.

Securing the King’s Support – Told by John Cabot

In 1496, after much discussion with Bristol’s merchants and careful persuasion at court, King Henry VII granted me letters patent to sail west in search of new lands. The document gave me the authority to claim territories for England and to enjoy a share of whatever profits might come. It was a moment of triumph, but it also meant the weight of expectation rested heavily on my shoulders. I knew I would have only a limited window to prove the worth of such a venture, and that meant careful planning.

Preparing for the First Attempt

My first voyage under this commission, late in 1496, was a modest effort. We sailed with a small crew from Bristol, intending to reach lands across the Atlantic. But the weather turned quickly against us, and storms forced us back before we could cross. It was a disappointment, but also a lesson in the power of the ocean and the need for a stronger, more prepared expedition. I returned to Bristol determined to try again as soon as the season allowed.

The Matthew and Her Crew

By the spring of 1497, we had assembled a sturdier plan. Our ship was the Matthew, a vessel of about fifty tons, small by the standards of the great trading fleets but nimble and reliable. She was crewed by about eighteen to twenty men—sailors from Bristol, some from other ports, all willing to risk the unknown for the promise of profit and adventure. Provisions were carefully chosen: salted fish, hard bread, dried beans, and fresh water, along with goods we might trade if we met other peoples.

Crossing the Atlantic

We left Bristol in early May 1497, our course set west-northwest. The sea was vast and empty, the horizon unbroken except for the wheeling of seabirds and the occasional drift of seaweed. The winds favored us at first, though storms did come, battering the Matthew and testing the resolve of my men. There were moments when we wondered if we would find only more ocean, but I kept my charts close and my eyes fixed on the course I believed would lead us to land.

The First Sight of Land

On June 24, the lookout’s cry cut through the morning air—land ahead. As we drew nearer, we saw a coastline stretching before us, green and wild. I believed we had reached the eastern edge of Asia, though in truth it was part of what would later be called North America, likely Newfoundland or Cape Breton Island. We did not linger long, but we went ashore, planted the flag of England, and took possession in the king’s name. The land seemed rich in fish, the waters teeming with cod, and I felt the thrill of knowing we had touched a place unknown to any in England.

The Journey Home

We turned back toward Bristol, our return swift and blessed with favorable winds. When we arrived in early August, word of our voyage spread quickly. The king rewarded me with money and recognition, and merchants spoke eagerly of what might be found on a second voyage. In my heart, I knew this was only the beginning—that the Matthew’s landfall was a door just barely opened to a vast and unknown world.

First Glimpse of Shore – Told by John Cabot

It was the morning of June 24, 1497, when the grey horizon finally gave way to a line of green. At first, it was only a smudge in the mist, but as the sun climbed, the shape of land became clear—rolling hills, rocky outcroppings, and stretches of low coastline. The sea itself seemed to change as we drew near, growing calmer, as if cradled by the shore. After weeks of endless ocean, the sight stirred both relief and wonder among my crew.

Approaching the Coast

As we sailed closer, I noted the rugged cliffs in some places and sandy beaches in others. The air carried the scent of pine and earth, and flocks of seabirds wheeled overhead in great numbers. The water teemed with fish, so thick beneath the surface that we could almost imagine scooping them up with baskets. To men who had lived on salted rations for weeks, such abundance was as enticing as gold.

Stepping Ashore

We chose a calm inlet to anchor and sent a small boat ashore. The land was quiet, with no sign of people, though I could not say if it was truly uninhabited or if the inhabitants simply kept out of sight. The ground was soft with grass, and beyond it rose dense forests. We found wildflowers, berries, and animal tracks, signs that the land was fertile and alive. I planted the flag of England there, claiming the territory in the name of King Henry VII.

Recording the Discovery

I kept careful notes of what I saw—its position, the lay of the land, the nature of its shores and resources. Though I believed I had reached the eastern parts of Asia, I understood the importance of recording every detail for the king and for any who might follow in my wake. My charts marked the coastline and safe anchorages, and I described the rich fishing grounds, knowing that such news would be prized by Bristol’s merchants.

The Promise of New Lands

As we sailed along the coast before turning for home, I saw more of its rugged beauty—headlands that jutted into the sea, hidden bays, and long stretches of forest. The land seemed untouched by European hands, its resources waiting for those bold enough to seize them. I did not yet realize that this was not Asia, but a continent unknown to my king and country. Even so, I knew that what I had found could be the beginning of something far greater than my single voyage.

The Decision to Invest – Told by King Henry VII

When John Cabot first came to my court with his proposal, England had no tradition of great overseas voyages. Yet I had been watching closely the successes of Spain and Portugal. Their fleets brought back spices, gold, and new territories, strengthening their crowns and enriching their merchants. Cabot offered a chance for England to join this competition without provoking open conflict. His plan to seek a northern route to Asia was ambitious, but it promised rewards without violating existing treaties with Iberian powers. I saw in him the spirit of opportunity and the skill of a seasoned navigator.

The Royal Charter

In March 1496, I granted him letters patent, allowing him to sail under the English flag to claim lands and trade on my behalf. The charter was not a gift of unmeasured generosity—it was a calculated investment. Cabot would bear the cost of organizing the expedition with support from Bristol’s merchants, and in return, I would receive a share of the profits and the prestige of any discoveries. The arrangement minimized risk to the crown while holding the promise of great reward.

A Political Gamble

Supporting an unknown route carried uncertainty. Failure would waste little but time and pride, yet success could alter England’s place in the world. At home, my position as king was still young, and victories in foreign ventures would strengthen my authority. Abroad, England needed to signal that it was not content to remain behind in this new age of discovery. Sponsoring Cabot allowed me to do so without costly wars or alliances.

Expectations for the Voyage

I expected him to return with more than just news of land—I hoped for a direct link to the spices, silks, and precious goods of the East. Even if such a passage was not found, rich fishing grounds or fertile lands could bring profit and influence. I also knew that even the sighting of unknown shores could be enough to secure future claims, a valuable bargaining piece in the games of diplomacy that lay ahead.

Ambition for the Future

My aim was not simply to match Spain or Portugal in discovery, but to lay a foundation for England’s future as a maritime power. If Cabot succeeded, it would open the door to further voyages and greater ventures. While I could not yet foresee the empires that would grow from such beginnings, I knew that England’s fortune would not be made by standing still. Cabot’s charter was a step into the wider world, and I intended it to be the first of many.

My Name is Richard Amerike: Life in Bristol as a Merchant

I was born in the bustling port city of Bristol around the middle of the 15th century, into a world where the sea was both our livelihood and our lifeline. From a young age, I learned the rhythms of trade—ships arriving with wine from France, salt from Portugal, and goods from far-off places I could only imagine. My family was not among the great nobles, but we were respected in the merchant community, and I quickly understood that hard work and clever dealings could bring a man both wealth and influence.

Becoming a Merchant and Customs Officer

In my youth, I entered the merchant trade, exporting English wool and cloth while importing goods that kept Bristol’s markets lively. My success in business led to my appointment as a customs officer, a position that placed me at the heart of the city’s trade. I was responsible for collecting duties, recording shipments, and ensuring the crown received its share. It was a post that brought both responsibility and opportunity, for I saw firsthand the flow of goods and the ambitions of those who sailed beyond familiar waters.

Backing a Bold Venture

It was through my position and my connections that I came to know of John Cabot, the Venetian navigator who arrived in Bristol with dreams of sailing west to find a faster route to Asia. His vision was daring—perhaps even risky—but the rewards, should he succeed, were unimaginable. Along with other merchants, I provided funds for his voyage in 1497, supplying what was needed to prepare his ship, the Matthew. It was an investment not only in potential profit but in Bristol’s place on the map of the known world.

Hearing of the New Land

When Cabot returned, he brought news of a land across the Atlantic, rich in fish and resources. While he believed it to be part of Asia, I suspected it might be something else entirely. Whatever it was, it offered promise—fertile grounds for trade and a future for English exploration. My role in financing his voyage tied my name to this moment in history, though I never set foot on those distant shores myself.

The Controversy of a Name

Long after my time, some would whisper that the name “America” was drawn from my own, a tribute to my role in Cabot’s voyage. I cannot say whether that is truth or fancy. Names have a way of gathering legends around them, and perhaps it is enough to know that I played my part in opening the way to a new world.

Legacy in Bristol

I lived my final years still engaged in trade, watching Bristol grow in wealth and influence. I took pride in knowing that the ventures I supported helped set the stage for England’s expansion across the seas. My life was not one of crowns or conquests, but of careful risk, honest trade, and the belief that the sea could carry us to opportunities beyond imagining.

Bristol’s Pre-Cabot Voyages – Told by Richard Amerike

Long before John Cabot arrived in Bristol with his bold ideas, there were whispers along the quays and in the taverns. Fishermen spoke, in the half-truths and guarded words of men protecting their livelihoods, of voyages far to the west where the seas boiled with cod. Some claimed they had sailed for weeks beyond Ireland and returned with holds so heavy with fish that the ships sat low in the water. Whether these were drunken tales or the truth wrapped in secrecy, they were enough to stir curiosity among those of us who traded in goods from distant shores.

Why Keep It Quiet

If such voyages truly happened, it is easy to understand why they were not widely announced. Fishing grounds are as valuable as gold to those who depend on them, and the surest way to lose them is to let the world know where they lie. If Bristol crews had found the Grand Banks—or something like them—they would have guarded that knowledge fiercely, passing it quietly from father to son, not writing it down for rivals to read.

Evidence in Trade

As a customs officer, I sometimes saw catches brought in that seemed larger and fresher than could be explained by a trip to Iceland or the familiar fishing coasts. The men unloading them said little, and I learned not to press too hard. But I could not help noticing the occasional foreign item among their stores—tools, trinkets, or pieces of wood unlike those from Europe. None of it proved a crossing to unknown lands, but it kept the idea alive in my mind.

Cabot and the Old Knowledge

When Cabot spoke of sailing west to find new lands, I suspected he had heard these rumors too. Perhaps he hoped to follow the same course and make it official under the king’s banner. His voyage in 1497 brought back news of land across the Atlantic, but to some of us in Bristol, it was less a revelation than a confirmation of things we already half-believed.

The Lasting Debate

To this day, there are those who insist Bristol’s fishermen reached the western waters long before Cabot. I cannot say for certain, though I have my suspicions. What I do know is that Cabot’s journey gave England a public claim to what others may have already found in secret—and that is the difference between a rumor and a place in history.

A City Ready for Opportunity – Told by Richard Amerike

Bristol in my day was a city of ambition. Our ships traded wool, cloth, wine, and fish with ports in Ireland, Spain, and France. But we were always looking for new markets and better profits. The stories coming from Portugal and Spain stirred our imaginations—ships returning with exotic goods, spices that fetched a fortune, and gold enough to dazzle any man’s eyes. We merchants knew that if such opportunities could be reached from our own harbor, Bristol could rise among the great trading cities of Europe.

Why We Backed Cabot

When John Cabot arrived, speaking of a shorter route to Asia by sailing west, many thought his plan daring, even improbable. But the promise was clear—if he was right, we would have direct access to the treasures of the East without relying on long, costly overland routes or paying duties in foreign ports. Even if he failed to find Asia, new fishing grounds or undiscovered lands could still bring profit. We had heard whispers from fishermen of seas so thick with cod that the catch could be hauled in by baskets. Such wealth was not to be ignored.

Pooling Our Resources

Cabot did not come asking for a fortune from any one man. Instead, several of us joined together to fund the venture, each taking a share of the cost and the potential returns. We supplied money for provisions, ropes, sails, and pay for the crew. Some of us provided goods to take on the voyage—cloth, trinkets, and metal items that could be traded if he met new peoples. The arrangement meant that no single merchant bore the full risk, but all stood to gain if the voyage proved successful.

The Connection to the Crown

Of course, we needed the king’s blessing to sail under the English flag and claim any lands found. Cabot’s letters patent from King Henry VII gave legitimacy to our efforts and ensured that whatever was discovered would be recognized as English. In return, the crown would take a share of the profits, but the rest was ours to divide among investors. This blend of royal authority and merchant enterprise gave the venture both the prestige and the practicality it needed.

Hopes for the Future

We saw Cabot’s voyage not as a single gamble but as the start of something larger. If he succeeded, more ships would follow, carrying goods to trade and bringing back riches. Bristol could become the gateway between England and lands across the Atlantic. For us, it was not only about gold and spices, but also about securing a place for our city in the new world of commerce that was rapidly unfolding.

First Sightings from the Sea – John Cabot and Richard Amerike

When we reached the shores of the new land in 1497, I expected to find settlements, as Marco Polo had described in the East, bustling with merchants and people eager to trade. Yet the coast appeared empty. No smoke from hearths rose in the distance, no boats moved in the bays. We explored a short way inland, but saw no one. It is possible they kept away, watching us from the forests, wary of our arrival. I found traces of human presence—footprints in the soil, cut stumps, and paths worn through the grass—but not a single meeting face to face.

Signs of Life – John Cabot

We found snares set for small animals, and in one place, what looked to be a simple shelter made from branches. These signs told me that people lived here, though perhaps they moved with the seasons or hunted in small groups. Without meeting them, I could not learn their language, their customs, or their wares. It left me wondering if, had we stayed longer or explored further, we might have established friendly contact.

A Merchant’s Curiosity – The Bristol Merchant

When Cabot returned and told us of these signs without the people themselves, I was both intrigued and frustrated. For a merchant, the greatest prize in meeting new peoples is the exchange of goods. If they had furs, fish, or other resources to spare, we could have offered cloth, metal tools, or beads in return. Such trade could have been the foundation of a profitable relationship, one that benefited both sides.

Speculation on Trade – The Bristol Merchant

From what Cabot described of the land—rich in game, forests, and fishing grounds—I imagine the inhabitants must have goods of value. Furs alone could make fortunes in England, and if these people had their own crafts or foods unknown to us, the market could be limitless. The absence of direct contact on this first voyage meant that opportunity remained untapped, but it also meant there was promise for the next expedition.

Shared Reflection – Cabot and the Merchant

We agreed that the next journey should aim not just to chart the coast, but to seek out its people. For me, it was a matter of understanding the land and those who lived upon it. For the merchant, it was the hope of building a new trade route that could rival anything in Europe. Though the faces of these people remained unseen, the thought of their presence lingered in both our minds, shaping the plans for voyages yet to come.

My Name is Sebastian Cabot: Life in a Seafaring Household

I was born around 1474 or perhaps later, the exact date a matter of some dispute, in either Venice or Bristol. My father, Giovanni Caboto—known to the English as John Cabot—was a man of restless ambition and sharp navigation skills. My early life was shaped by his dreams and the scent of the sea. When he moved our family to England, I grew up in Bristol, surrounded by the talk of ships, trade, and exploration. My education came not from books alone but from shipyards, maps, and the company of sailors who spoke of winds, currents, and distant shores.

The Disappearance of My Father

In 1497, my father made his famous voyage west and returned with news of new lands. The next year, he sailed again with a larger fleet, this time intending to explore further. But he never returned. I was left without the guiding hand of the man who had taught me to dream beyond the horizon. His disappearance left unanswered questions and an unfulfilled legacy, one I felt bound to carry forward.

Finding My Own Path

I began my career as a navigator and cartographer, eager to make my mark. In service to Spain, I explored the South American coast, learning its rivers and currents. I ventured into the Río de la Plata, searching for a passage to the riches of the East. It was not the route I hoped for, but I brought back valuable knowledge of the continent’s geography. My voyages were often difficult—disease, storms, and unrest among crews tested my resolve—but I was determined to build upon the path my father had opened.

Service to Spain and England

Though I served Spain for many years, I also found my way back into the service of England. For a time, I advised on exploration policy and the potential of northern routes. I sought to lead new expeditions to Asia by sailing above the American continent, convinced that a shorter passage to the Orient lay in the Arctic seas. These voyages, however, met with limited success, the ice and harsh conditions proving more stubborn than my ambitions.

Life as a Mapmaker and Court Adviser

When the sea offered no more immediate prospects, I turned my skills to mapping and advising. My charts and accounts informed future navigators, and I became a respected figure in the courts of both Spain and England. I took pride in knowing that my knowledge might guide the next generation of explorers, even if I could not always reach the destinations I sought myself.

Reflections on the Cabot Legacy

My father’s name will forever be tied to England’s first claim in the New World, and I have spent my life ensuring it was not forgotten. I expanded upon his vision, though the oceans often guarded their secrets more fiercely than I could unlock. In my later years, I looked back and saw that exploration is not only about arriving at distant lands, but also about daring to depart, to risk, and to seek. The Cabots—father and son—lived by that creed, and in that, we found our place in history.

Carrying the Cabot Name Forward – Told by Sebastian Cabot

After my father vanished on his second voyage in 1498, the weight of his legacy fell upon me. I could not let his discoveries fade into memory, nor allow England’s claim to those distant shores to be forgotten. I set out to continue his work, determined to push further into the unknown and to see with my own eyes the lands he had found. My life became a balance between honoring his path and carving my own place in the world of exploration.

Voyages Under the Spanish Flag

In my youth, I entered the service of Spain, whose resources and ambitions in exploration were greater than England’s at the time. I sailed along the coast of South America, venturing into the wide mouth of the Río de la Plata in search of a passage through the continent. I hoped to find a strait that would lead to the riches of the East, but instead found shallow waters, shifting sands, and the stubborn reality that the way forward was blocked. Still, my time in these waters taught me much about the geography of the New World and the challenges it held.

Navigating Politics Between Crowns

Working for both Spain and England required careful diplomacy. Each nation had its own ambitions and guarded its discoveries closely. At times, my loyalty was questioned, for I served whichever crown gave me the means to sail. Yet I believed my loyalty was to exploration itself and to advancing the knowledge of the seas. Politics could be as treacherous as any storm, and I learned to navigate them with as much caution as I did the shifting tides.

Search for the Northern Passage

In later years, I returned to England with the idea of sailing north of the new continent, convinced that a passage to Asia could be found through the Arctic waters. I undertook a voyage to explore these frigid seas, but the ice and cold proved more powerful than any ambition. We turned back, defeated by nature, yet I remained convinced that the route existed and that one day it would be found.

Expanding the Map

Though I did not discover the passage I sought, my voyages added to the growing body of knowledge about the Americas and their coastlines. I charted waters that few Europeans had seen and brought back accounts that shaped the plans of future expeditions. Each journey was another piece in the puzzle my father had begun, and though I could not complete it, I was proud to have added my share.

The Legacy of Two Voyagers

In every harbor, from the cold ports of England to the bustling docks of Seville, I carried the name Cabot as both a responsibility and a challenge. My father’s discovery had opened a door, and my task was to keep it from closing. I did not find the direct route to Asia that we both dreamed of, but I expanded the horizons of those who would come after. In that, I believe I stayed true to his vision and to the spirit of the age that drove us both to risk everything for the promise of the unknown.

The Voyage That Vanished – Told by Sebastian Cabot

In 1498, my father, John Cabot, set out from Bristol with a fleet of five ships, more ambitious than his first successful journey the year before. He carried goods for trade, perhaps expecting to meet the peoples of the new lands or to find a route south that might lead toward Asia. The departure was full of promise, but as the weeks turned into months, no news reached England. Ships that had sailed with him reported turning back after storms damaged their hulls near Ireland, yet my father’s vessel sailed on into the Atlantic. From there, the trail disappears into the mist of time.

Rumors from Across the Sea

Some claimed that he reached the coast of North America again, exploring further south, perhaps as far as the lands we now know as New England. Fishermen spoke in hushed tones of seeing a small English ship anchored in an unfamiliar bay, its crew trading with locals before vanishing again. Others said he had been driven off course by storms and wrecked on some lonely shore, the crew lost to hunger or the sea.

Tales of Survival

There were whispers, too, of something far more extraordinary—that my father did not die at sea at all, but chose to remain in the new world. Stories told of a bearded European living among an indigenous community, teaching them the ways of shipbuilding and navigation. These tales were often dismissed as sailor’s fancies, yet they persisted long enough to stir the imagination of anyone who heard them.

The Spanish and Portuguese Shadows

Some have wondered if he fell into the hands of Spanish or Portuguese ships guarding their own claims in the Atlantic. If they saw an English voyage as a threat, they might have seized him, keeping his fate secret to avoid diplomatic trouble. I have no proof of this, but in the politics of exploration, such actions would not have been unthinkable.

A Mystery Without End

For me, the question of what happened in 1498 has never been answered. I grew up in the shadow of that mystery, imagining my father standing on a foreign shore, charting new lands with the same determination that had carried him across the sea the first time. Did he perish in a storm, fall victim to rival powers, or choose a new life far from England? Each possibility has its champions, and each has its flaws.

A Choice for the Reader

So I leave it to you to decide. Was John Cabot the victim of the ocean’s fury, claimed by the waves that had carried him to glory? Was he silenced by the jealous powers of Spain and Portugal? Or did he become a hidden pioneer, living out his days in a land he had once dreamed only to discover? The truth lies somewhere beyond the horizon, and perhaps that is where it belongs.

My Name is Elizabeth of York: A Princess of Two Houses

I was born in 1466, the eldest daughter of King Edward IV of England and Elizabeth Woodville. My childhood was spent in the heart of the Yorkist court, surrounded by the splendor and intrigue of royal life. My father’s reign brought stability after years of war, but the peace was fragile. I was a princess of the House of York, yet my destiny would tie me to the House of Lancaster, our long-standing rivals. The course of my life would be shaped by the Wars of the Roses, where loyalty and survival often outweighed affection.

Loss and Uncertainty

In 1483, my father died suddenly, and my world changed in an instant. My brothers, Edward V and Richard, were placed in the Tower of London for what was supposed to be their coronation. They never emerged. To this day, their fate remains a dark shadow over our family’s history. My uncle took the throne as Richard III, and my mother and I were left to navigate a dangerous court. Whispers swirled about alliances and marriages, and I lived each day knowing that my future would be decided by the shifting tides of power.

Marriage to End a War

In 1485, Henry Tudor defeated Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth and claimed the throne as Henry VII. To strengthen his claim and unite the warring houses, he sought my hand in marriage. Our wedding in January 1486 symbolized the joining of the red rose of Lancaster and the white rose of York, creating the Tudor rose. Though our marriage was born of politics, we grew into mutual respect and partnership. Together, we sought to heal the divisions of the realm and secure the future of our children.

Life as Queen

As queen, I balanced my duties as a mother, wife, and political figure. I bore several children, including Arthur, Prince of Wales, and Henry, who would become Henry VIII. I worked quietly to support my husband’s policies, smoothing tensions at court and maintaining alliances with powerful families. My presence reassured Yorkist loyalists that the crown was not entirely in Lancastrian hands. In my own way, I helped to stabilize England during a time when rebellion still threatened the Tudor throne.

The World Beyond England

During my years as queen, the world was changing rapidly. Across the seas, explorers like Christopher Columbus and John Cabot were venturing into unknown waters. My husband’s cautious but strategic sponsorship of Cabot’s voyage in 1497 gave England its first foothold in the New World. While my role in these ventures was indirect, I understood their importance for England’s wealth and prestige. I often thought about how such discoveries might shape the world my children would inherit.

My Final Years

In 1502, tragedy struck when our eldest son, Arthur, died, leaving his younger brother Henry as heir. I was already weakened by the strain of childbirth and grief. In February 1503, I gave birth to a daughter, Katherine, who lived only a short time. Days later, I too fell ill and passed away at the age of thirty-seven. I was buried in Westminster Abbey, my tomb beside Henry’s a symbol of the union we forged. My life was one of duty, sacrifice, and quiet strength, lived in the service of England’s peace and the future of the Tudor line.

If you want, I can now take all five figures’ stories—Henry VII, John Cabot, Sebastian Cabot, the Bristol Merchant, and Elizabeth of York—and weave them into a coordinated “team-taught” version of the Cabot voyages where they take turns telling the story. That would make it feel like a living history panel.

The Place Beside the Throne – Told by Elizabeth of York

As queen consort to Henry VII, my role was not one of open command, but of steady presence. A consort does not sit in council chambers to pass laws or negotiate treaties, yet she stands where the decisions of the kingdom are made, able to shape them in quiet ways. My duty was first to my husband and our family, but beyond that, to the crown itself. In a time when the throne had only recently been won in battle, my position as the daughter of Edward IV bridged the bitter divide between York and Lancaster. Simply by being at Henry’s side, I was a living emblem of unity.

Influence in Politics

Though the king held the final word, I could counsel him in private, raising concerns he might not hear elsewhere or urging patience when tempers at court grew hot. Many sought my ear, knowing that a suggestion offered through me might find a gentler path to the king’s mind. I could calm quarrels between nobles, smooth over grievances, and encourage alliances through marriage or favor. My influence was quiet and often invisible, but in a court filled with ambition, silence could be more powerful than the loudest speech.

Guarding the Stability of the Realm

The Wars of the Roses had left England weary of conflict, and part of my role was to assure the people that peace was secure. Public appearances, ceremonies, and acts of charity were not mere pageantry—they reassured subjects that the royal family was strong and united. I moved among the people on occasions of celebration or mourning, listening to their needs and making certain that word of them reached the king. In this way, I served as a link between crown and country, softening the distance that often lay between ruler and ruled.

The Queen’s Household and Economy

As queen, I oversaw a large household, a small kingdom in its own right. The management of servants, supplies, and expenses required skill and attention. The queen’s household was not just a domestic sphere—it was a network of influence. Positions within it were coveted, and the granting of them could secure loyalty or reward service. In times of need, I could direct funds from my own revenues toward causes or individuals the king might not be able to aid openly, whether to support a struggling noble family or to maintain goodwill in a troubled region.

The Welfare of the Kingdom

A consort’s role in the welfare of the kingdom was as much about perception as it was about action. I worked to maintain the image of a court that was gracious, charitable, and morally steady. Gifts to churches, care for the sick, and support for the education of noble children were part of this. The queen’s hand was often seen in the relief of hardship, even when the resources came from the king’s treasury. In this way, the monarchy appeared both just and merciful.

Power in Subtlety

Some might think the power of a queen consort was limited, but influence does not always wear a crown or carry a sword. My authority lay in the trust of the king, in the loyalty of my household, and in the goodwill of the people. A word spoken at the right time, a favor granted to the right person, or a gentle warning when danger stirred—these could shift the course of decisions. My reign beside Henry was proof that a queen’s strength is often measured not in proclamations, but in the quiet shaping of the kingdom’s heart.

Legacy and Impact on English Exploration

The First Steps into a Larger World – Henry VII

When John Cabot returned from his voyage in 1497, the news carried more weight than some realized. England, long absent from the front ranks of maritime discovery, now had a claim to lands across the ocean. Politically, it was a message to Spain and Portugal that we would not be content to watch them divide the world between themselves. The finding of rich fishing grounds offered immediate benefit to merchants in Bristol, but the greater value lay in the precedent it set. England had planted its flag on foreign shores without drawing a sword, and that was a triumph in itself.

Strengthening England’s Standing – Henry VII

Cabot’s journey gave me a tool in diplomacy. When speaking with foreign envoys, I could point to England’s own discoveries as proof of our strength and ambition. It reassured our allies and reminded our rivals that we were not a kingdom to be overlooked. Though the crown’s finances were too limited to fund vast fleets, even a single successful voyage strengthened my hand in negotiations and gave merchants the confidence to seek greater ventures.

The Long Shadow of Discovery – Elizabeth of York

From my place at the king’s side, I saw how Cabot’s voyage stirred the imagination of England’s people. Merchants spoke of new trade routes, and courtiers whispered of distant lands rich with resources. Even in the quiet chambers of the palace, there was a sense that the world was larger than we had ever known, and that England had a part to play in it. For our children, it planted an idea—that their generation could inherit a kingdom that looked not only inward to its own shores, but outward to the far horizon.

A Foundation for the Future – Elizabeth of York

Though years passed before England sent another major expedition westward, Cabot’s journey remained in memory. It was spoken of in the upbringing of our son Henry, who would one day become king. He learned that exploration was more than an adventure—it was a means to secure wealth, influence, and a place among the greatest powers of Europe. The voyages gave future rulers a foundation, showing that England could claim its own path in the age of discovery.

The Lasting Impact – Henry VII

What Cabot began in my reign would not fully bloom until long after I was gone. Yet that is the nature of some achievements—they are seeds planted for others to reap. His voyage showed that England could venture far and succeed, and it ensured that in the centuries to come, our nation would not be confined to the island we call home. That, I believe, is the true measure of the legacy we built together—an England with eyes on the horizon and the courage to cross it.

True Location of Cabot’s Landfall? – Discussed by John Cabot and Sebastian CabotFirst Sight of the Coast – John Cabot

I remember the morning clearly. The horizon, empty for weeks, suddenly gave way to a thin line of green. As we drew nearer, I saw a coastline shaped by rocky cliffs, with stretches of sandy shore. Forests seemed to run down almost to the water’s edge, and seabirds filled the sky. I believed we had reached the eastern edge of Asia, but the land was not marked by cities or harbors—only wild beauty. We anchored in a sheltered bay, stepped ashore, and claimed it for England. I recorded its features, but I will admit that I did not chart every inlet or sail far along its coast. My goal then was to prove we could reach new lands, not to map them completely.

The Mystery in the Records – Sebastian Cabot

Years later, I read my father’s notes and heard the stories told in Bristol. Some swore he had landed on what is now Newfoundland, pointing to the abundance of fish and the climate he described. Others argued for Cape Breton Island, saying the coastline’s shape in his charts matched that place. There are even claims he sailed farther north to Labrador, or perhaps farther south into the warmer waters of New England. The truth is clouded by the fact that his maps and reports were not preserved in full, and those that survived were often vague to protect England’s advantage.

Why the Exact Spot Was Hidden – John Cabot

Secrecy was a necessity. If Spain or Portugal had known the exact location, they might have moved quickly to claim it for themselves. We gave only enough detail to satisfy the king and the merchants, keeping the rest for future voyages. In the rush to return and share the news, some details may also have been lost. The sea is a deceptive place—shores can look alike, and distances can be misjudged when wind and tide pull you from your course.

A Legacy of Speculation – Sebastian Cabot

To this day, the question remains. Newfoundland, Cape Breton, Labrador, New England—all have their champions among historians. I think my father would be amused by the debate. For him, the important thing was not the name of the place or the exact latitude, but that he had reached it at all. Still, I cannot help but wish we had preserved more precise records, for then the world would know exactly where the English flag first touched the shores of the New World.

Amerike and the “Naming of America” Theory – Discussed by Henry and Amerike

Some say the name “America” belongs to the Florentine navigator Amerigo Vespucci, whose voyages came after Cabot’s. That is the accepted tale in most scholarly circles. Yet in Bristol, there has long been another story, whispered in markets and spoken proudly in taverns—that the name came from me. I was one of the principal financiers of John Cabot’s voyage in 1497, providing funds and resources when others hesitated. As a customs officer and a merchant of standing, I was well placed to support such ventures. Some believe that, in recognition of my role, the new lands bore my name, altered to fit the tongues of cartographers.

Royal Perspective – Henry VII

I am aware of this theory, and though I will not speak against the pride it gives Bristol, I must weigh it against the realities of the time. Names of lands were often chosen or altered by those who charted them—scholars and mapmakers, many of them working far from our shores. Vespucci’s name was known across Europe through his published accounts, and it is true that continental mapmakers favored him. I cannot say whether your name, Amerike, inspired any of them, but I will admit that those who funded exploration were often honored in less visible ways.

The Case for Amerike – Richard Amerike

It is worth noting that I oversaw the customs house in Bristol and had access to the records of Cabot’s voyage. Some argue that maps based on his discoveries, perhaps carrying my name, could have reached the hands of continental cartographers. The idea is not so far-fetched when one considers how merchants and navigators shared information, often through informal networks rather than official channels.

The Weight of Popular Belief – Henry VII

Whether or not your name lies hidden in the naming of America, the theory has endured for centuries. That persistence speaks to the pride of Bristol and to the enduring role of its merchants in our nation’s story of exploration. Official histories may dismiss the idea, favoring Vespucci’s well-documented fame, but the truth of such matters is often tangled.

An Unresolved Question – Richard Amerike

I cannot prove it, and perhaps no one ever will. But when I hear the name America, I feel a quiet satisfaction. Whether it honors Vespucci or me, it stands for a new chapter in the world’s history—one that I, in my own way, helped to begin. And maybe that is enough.

Limited English Follow-Up Voyages – Discussed by Henry VII and Sebastian Cabot

The King’s View – Henry VIIWhen Cabot returned from his 1497 voyage, the news was promising, but promise alone does not build colonies. England had just emerged from decades of civil war, and my priority was securing the crown’s stability at home. The treasury was growing but still modest, and every coin spent had to serve the kingdom’s security or immediate profit. Large-scale colonization would have demanded ships, supplies, settlers, and years of investment before any return could be expected. That was a gamble I could not afford while rival claimants still threatened my rule.

Diplomatic Considerations – Henry VIIWe also had to consider our position among the powers of Europe. Spain and Portugal had divided much of the known world between them under the Treaty of Tordesillas, and though I did not recognize their exclusive rights, I was cautious not to provoke a conflict I was not prepared to win. A few voyages for exploration and fishing could pass without challenge; the planting of a permanent settlement might have drawn immediate and dangerous attention.

A Son’s Frustration – Sebastian CabotFrom my perspective, the hesitation was disheartening. My father had opened a door to lands across the ocean, yet England allowed it to swing half-closed. I believe we could have established a foothold early, securing territory before Spain or Portugal realized its value. Even a small outpost for fishing and trade might have grown into something more. But exploration is often at the mercy of politics, and the king’s caution outweighed the ambitions of those who saw opportunity.

Other Pressing Ventures – Henry VIIOpportunities nearer to home often took precedence. Strengthening trade with the Low Countries, building alliances through marriage, and keeping France in check all demanded attention. A colony across the Atlantic might have been glorious, but glory does not feed the crown’s coffers quickly. I preferred to build England’s strength step by step, so that when the time came, we would be ready to act with greater force.

Looking Back – Sebastian CabotHistory will always ask what might have been if England had acted sooner. Perhaps we could have claimed vast stretches of land before others planted their flags. Or perhaps we would have stretched ourselves too thin and lost what we had gained. Still, I believe that delay cost us more than it saved, and the chance my father seized was not taken to its fullest. England did join the race in time, but those early years of hesitation remain a “what if” in the story of our nation’s exploration.