Lost Lands, Forgotten Realms Page 6

  Writing in 1684, however, the Galway historian and geographer Roderick O’Flaherty in his book A Chronological Description of the West or H-lar Connaught states: “There is now living Morogh (or Murrough) O’Lay who immagins (sic) he himself was personally on the Island O’Brasil for two days and saw out of it the iles of Aran, Golamhead, Irrosbeghill and other places of the West continent that he was acquainted with.”

  The Disappearance

  However, Morogh O’Lay was one of the very few who claimed to have actually set foot on Hy-Brasil (most sailors claimed that it faded away if approached) and O’Flaherty seems to treat his story with an element of suspicion and disdain. In spite of such scepticism, however, between 1325 and 1865, a number of maps also show the island as an actual place, clearly marked and lying to the southwest of Galway Bay. On some maps it is given the name Brazil Rock. On most maps it is largely circular with a central river or channel running through it, and a number of high hills or small mountains around its edges. In the late 19th century, it disappears from the charts specifically relating to the Galway coast, but can still be found lying slightly to the south of Rathlin Island in County Antrim (between Church Bay and Ballycastle) where it is marked as “Green Island.”

  The name Hy-Brasil, or Hy-Breasal, probably derives from a clan of that name who inhabited the west of Ireland allegedly during the second and third centuries. There are still families with that name living in parts of Clare and Galway counties even today. Breasal was also the name, in ancient Irish mythology, of the King of the World, a legendary figure who had made his home on the island. Indeed, the List of High Kings of Ireland mentions a king named Breasal Boidhiobhadh who ruled a large part of the west of Ireland during the third century. His reign was notable for a great plague among cattle, which had wiped out many herds. Nevertheless, he seems to have been elevated to an almost god-like status, and may well have been worshipped long after his death. In fact, many believed that he had not died at all, but had gone to live on the Island O’Brasil, away from human eyes. This, then, became his kingdom, over which he ruled forever, akin to a benign god.

  The People

  One of the visitors to this realm was reputedly a certain Captain Nesbitt, who brought a ship there in the late 1500s or early 1600s. Nesbitt dropped anchor in the great bay and came ashore with some of his crew. They found thick and almost impenetrable woodlands, in the center of which stood an extremely ancient castle. The men went in, but, although the fortress was splendidly furnished, it seemed to be abandoned, with everything covered in a thick layer of dust. While they were examining the place, according to Nesbitt’s account, three very old men appeared, each bowed over and leaning on a staff. Nesbitt hailed them but received no answer. Then one of the old men spoke in some sort of archaic tongue, which neither Nesbitt nor his crew understood. However, there was such a palpable air of menace around these three aged men that the superstitious sailors drew back and fled from the place. They reached their ship and sailed away as the mysterious island seemed to sink behind them into the ocean. This was one of the more descriptive (skeptics might be tempted to say slightly fanciful) accounts of landing on the island. Nesbitt added that within the castle was a large empty throne, which he assumed belonged to Breasal, King of the World.

  And So the Legends Begin…

  Gradually the legend of Hy-Brasil developed. It was said, for example, that the mystical island only appeared once every seven years (seven being a mystical number) when it either rose from the depths of the ocean or the clouds that circled it. It was also said to be a place where fairies and other supernatural entities dwelt, and at the time when Hy-Brasil appeared, they would come ashore to interact with mortals.

  The famous Rathlin Island storyteller of the 1950s and 1960s, Rose McCrudy, for example, frequently told of how the fairies from “the Green Isle” would come ashore to the Hiring Fairs in Ballycastle to hire humans to work at the fairy island on their lands. These contracts would last for seven years until the Green Isle reappeared again off the southern coast of Rathlin. At that time, those who had been hired either had the option of remaining with the fairies for another seven years or going home. Rose spoke of a woman, allegedly still living in Glenshesk in the Glens of Antrim in the 1950s, who had been to the fairy isle to act as a housekeeper for a fairy man. She had come home again, but had tried to return to the Green Isle (once the contract was terminated, mortals were never allowed to return there) and had been struck blind by the fairies. Many of the older people living in the Glens knew this woman very well and believed her story. The Green Island can still be seen, marked on extremely old maps of the region, although some have confused it with the tiny island of Sanda in the Inner Hebrides.

  Such mistakes may have been more common among ancient sailors and cartographers than we suspect. For instance, some geographical historians have suggested that Hy-Brasil might have been Helluland (the Land of Flat Stones), discovered by the Viking explorer Lief Erikson around A.D. 1000. Legends say that Erikson encountered giants living there who made mighty axes and powerful spears. This may well have been the Dorset culture that is thought to have occupied the coast of Greenland and some of the smaller off-shore islands around this time. These people were much taller than the incoming Inuit tribes and were renowned for their axe and spearhead making. The Vikings, however, called them skraeling, which meant “barbarians” or “coarse forigners.” Erikson landed but did not stay, sailing south toward what is now northern Canada (Markland); geographers now think that he had visited present-day Baffin Island in the Labrador Straits.

  Maps

  Indeed, many maps detailing parts of the northern oceans from a period between the 13th and 17th centuries show a number of islands that since appear to have been “lost,” and which might also be referred to as Hy-Brasil. Some of these may be simple mistakes that have been passed from one cartographer to another, and some may be actual frauds, detailing exotic lands which the mapmakers actually knew were not there, but were simply added to make the map seem more interesting, exotic, and appealing. Such a place was Estotiland, far northwest of the Atlantic Ocean. This large island appeared on the celebrated Zeno Map prepared in the 15th century by the Venetian mapmaker Antonio Zeno. During the mid-1400s, Antonio’s maps, together with those of his brother Nicolo, were much sought after and trusted by mariners; however, most of them were false, owing more to the imaginations of the cartographers than reality. Many of these locations depended largely on the fanciful stories of mariners who claimed to have visited such places—stories that were then embellished by mapmakers, including the Zenos. By the late 17th century, the island of Estotiland had disappeared from all navigation charts, as had several towns and ports that were also marked.

  Other maps dating from the 1500s and mid-1600s show another major island near the coast of Newfoundland named the Isle of Demons. It was said to be a wild and terrible place where ghosts, demons, and devils dwelt amid cold and snow. Those who claimed to have landed there allegedly experienced terrible ordeals usually involving phantoms and monsters; many mariners were advised to shun these far seas and their islands. By the late 1600s and early 1700s, the Isle of Demons had vanished from all maps and now simply remains as a legend. Many of these islands were often confused with the concept of Hy-Brasil, that mysterious island that seemed to avoid contact with the rest of the world.

  Other Names

  Traveling further south across the Atlantic Ocean, other accounts referred to Hy-Brasil as “St. Brendan’s Isle” after the sixth-century Abbot of Clonfert in County Galway, who is also regarded as a famous navigator, explorer, and possible founder of the island. The first account of his landing there comes from the ninth-century manuscript titled Navigatio Santi Brendani Abatis (The Voyage of St. Brendan the Abbot), which states that he encountered the island as he sailed across the Atlantic to bring Christianity to northwest Europe. No precise location is given for this island, and some geographical historians had claimed the isle to be “th
e eighth Canary Isle.” Others have suggested that the saint might have visited what is currently called Macronesia—a group of volcanically created islands in the North Atlantic, comprising the Azores, Madeira, the Canaries, the Cape Verdi Islands, and the Savage Islands. Saint Brendan and his company landed there and found the place to be an earthly Paradise with many trees laden with luscious fruit. Some commentators speculate that this was one of the Fortunate Isles referred to by the Roman writer Flavius Philostratos in his Life of Appolonius of Tyana, in which he mentioned almost paradisiacal islands, laden with apples. The island of Avalon was said to be one of these locations. Brendan and his companions sailed away and, according to tradition, the island seemed to disappear into a cloud which then sank into the ocean. Writing later in the 11th century, the monk Borino states that he, too, visited the island and found it to be a wonderful place. When he left, the island was once again consumed by clouds and appeared to sink into the ocean.

  Both the Spanish and Portuguese of the 16th and 17th centuries fervently believed in the existence of the island and referred to it as San Brandon. In fact, when the Peace of Elvira was signed in June 1519, in which the Portuguese ceded the Canary Islands to Spain, one of those islands was La Isla Non-Trabada o Encubierta—the Inconstant or Mysterious Island, which is taken to refer to St. Brendan’s Island or Hy-Brasil. Sensing that this could be a new territory, several Spanish governors of the Canaries tried to locate it. They used old maps prepared by both Spanish and Arab cartographers, the most notable of the latter being Abdullah al-Bakri—the celebrated Spanish-Moorish mapmaker—which showed a number of islands that appeared to have since been “lost.” Several ships were dispatched from El Herrio in an attempt to find “San Brandon,” but none were successful. Portuguese interest in the island had been intense ever since a sea captain had appeared at the court of King Henry the Navigator (1394–1460) speaking of a strange island that he had encountered in the North Atlantic. The seaman said that he had tried to approach the island to make landfall, but had been driven off by tremendous storms; when he had approached it again, the island had disappeared. Sometime later, another captain from the island of Madeira had turned up at the royal court during the reign of John II of Portugal (1481–1495) begging for a caravel to reach an island that seemed to appear regularly on the horizon. This piqued Portuguese attention, and they began to take such accounts extremely seriously. In 1556, a combined Spanish and Portuguese investigation under Dr. Hernan Parez de Grado, first regent of the Royal Canaries Court, began using the accounts of both Spanish and Portuguese sailors. Old maps and accounts were reconsulted. With the initial investigation inconclusive, the Spanish now began to enquire themselves, headed by Fernando de Villasboas, military governor of La Palma. This, too, was inconclusive and no trace of the mysterious island was found.

  There was another flurry of interest in 1570, when an account was allegedly given to Spanish authorities in Cadiz by a sea captain named Marcos Verde. He had been returning, he said, from the Berber Coast (northern Morocco) to La Palma in the Canaries when he had been blown off course by a sudden storm. Spotting the highest point of an unknown island, he made for shelter and dropped anchor in a large bay. There he waited until the storm had passed. On the edge of nightfall, he went ashore with some men to try to find supplies. The island appeared to be thickly wooded and the landing party split up into groups, each one taking different trails. Verde said that suddenly, he could hear the screams of some of the other parties in the darkness and “sounds so hideous” that he recalled his crew to the landing boats. Some of the crew did not return from the forest and Verde was forced to leave them behind. They had barely returned to the ship when another massive storm blew up, causing the vessel to drag its anchor. Thanks to Verde’s captaincy, his craft managed to ride out the tempest, but when they returned to their former location, the island was gone.

  The following year another seaman, Pedro Velho, wrote an account of another landing on the mysterious island where he claimed he had seen many “wondrous things.” He had seen trees, fruit, and even animals, unlike anywhere else in the world. More significantly, he claimed to have seen ruins, mainly ancient columns covered in strange hieroglyphs, and other evidences of human habitation, but it is not recorded if he saw any actual natives. Velho also stated that he had spoken with the captain of a French ship that had also landed there, dropping anchor in the bay in order to make some repairs. A detail of men had gone ashore and had cut some wood from several trees before being driven off by a sudden storm that threatened to wreck the vessel. Although both Spanish and Portuguese enquiries into the existence of the island were largely abandoned, both countries held a hope for many years that there was another land somewhere out there, waiting to be discovered.

  Into the 18th century, accounts of a mysterious island lying somewhere in the North Atlantic continued to be reported. For instance, in 1711, a monk named Sigbert de Gembroux claimed to have seen an uncharted island from a ship on which he was traveling. He may actually have seen no more than a school of fish or even dolphins, but he nevertheless claimed that it was land that disappeared before anyone could substantiate his story. Similarly, in 1772, Viera y Clavijo, a captain of the Royal Canary Fleet, mistook the mountains of an unknown island for the cliffs and hills of La Palma while at sea, only to find that his destination lay elsewhere.

  The Island O’Brasil, or Brasil rock, remained a legend through the years and it was said that the Portuguese explorer Pedro Alvares Cabral had named the South American country Brazil after the mythical land when he landed in April 1500. It was claimed that he imagined that the jungles were actually the woodlands of the unknown island, which he then claimed for Portugal. However, there are two defects to that argument. First, it may have been a political trick in order to claim territory. It has been said that Portuguese seafarers knew full well that this land was part of South America, but that the area had been declared as Spanish territory by the Treaty of Toresillas in 1494, and had been ratified by the pope, Alexander VI. By pretending that he had landed on an unknown land, Cabral then felt free to claim a Portuguese dominion. The second drawback to the theory is that Cabral himself did not name Brazil. In fact it was not named until later—with Cabral naming it as Isla de Vera Cruz. It was then later named Terra de Santa Cruz (Land of the Holy Cross) and then Brazil much later. The name is actually said to derive from brasa wood and the brasa tree, which gave a reddish tinged wood (“brasa” or “burning” wood) that was extremely popular in Portugal during the 16th century and was actually a trade item.

  A number of other explorers have identified Hy-Brasil as Terceira Island in the Azores. Indeed it was named as such (Brazil) by the explorer and cartographer Andrea Bianco on his map of the area, printed in 1431. It is not clear, however, whether it was ever really known as such by many mariners. It was later named Terceira, meaning “third” (because it is the third biggest island in the Azores group). A number of other smaller islands in various North Atlantic island chains seem to have been similarly identified, but these appear to have subsequently vanished. Perhaps they were little more than a rocky outcropping or large reef, which have since disappeared beneath the waves.

  Even as late as the 21st century, there are still accounts of unknown land-masses from time to time. Many of these have usually been glimpsed from a distance—along the horizon or far out to sea—and of course it is always possible to argue that they are indeed no more than a trick of the light, clouds, or perhaps some small reef or rock distorted by the sun on the water. But who knows; perhaps there truly is something out there. Perhaps it is the mysterious land of Hy-Brasil.

  Section II: Sunken Lands

  Sunken Lands

  Although the ocean can often be awe-inspiring and beautiful, it can also be violent and terrifying; and it can hide many secrets. Sudden storms at sea can often provide a fearsome threat, not only for ships, but for coastal settlements and island communities. Tales of villages, towns, and even cities being o
verwhelmed by the sea or by severe floods can be found in the folklore of many cultures.

  Many such stories have their origins in actual history, for combinations of disasters such as coastal erosion or monstrous seas have ensured the disappearance of many settlements all across history.

  One has only to look at, say, medieval maps detailing the coastline of England or Ireland to see ancient coastal towns and villages marked there—settlements that no longer exist. Many have old and evocative names—Ravenspur, Larkscradle, Candleford—probably hinting at their antiquity prior to their disappearance. Some have vanished by coastal slippage, gradually sliding under the waters as the sea-worn coastline fell away; others, possibly more low-lying, were drowned by the waters of the raging ocean at the height of a tempest or hurricane. Even today, many villages around the coast of Britain remain under similar threat.