So around the year 1000, the Norse go about exploring Vinland. They may have only stayed in the vicinity of L'Anse aux Meadows, or they may have sailed as far south as Martha's Vineyard or even modern day New York, depending on how you interpret the words "dagmal" and "eykt".
These voyages and details thereof are pretty well known in Iceland (hence the sagas); they are reasonably well known in Denmark, as demonstrated by this account, written about 1075 by Adam of Bremen, a German geographer and historian, as told to him by King Sveyn II of Denmark:
Our good historian however became confused between Helluland and Halagland, the northernmost part of medieval Norway, where the "midnight sun" is visible. He also spelled Vinland in Latin the same as Wendland, the Polish province closest to Denmark.
Adam of Bremen became the source of the Geographica Universalis commpiled at Malmesbury Abbey in England (which placed Vinland east of Norway). Geographica Universalis was then in turn used as a source for the Polychronicon by Ranulf Higden - this put it west of Denmark but failed to explain the distance, with the island marked in its map as being east of Iceland, close to Scandinavia.
Furthermore
The Icelandic Erik Gnupsson, who was appointed as bishop of Greenland by the Pope, "went to seek Vinland" in 1121. He disappeares from the records after this.
68 years later, Jón Árnason (nicknamed Smyrill) became bishop of Greenland. He went on to meet the frickin Pope in 1202–1203.
The fact that in 1347, a ship arrived in Iceland, after being blown off course on its way home from Markland to Greenland with a load of timber kinda proves that the Greenlanders had continued to use Markland as a source of timber over several centuries and that people continued to travel there on occasion.
Now, let's combine these points:
Either Erik Gnupsson, Jón Árnason or some of the other bishops that came between them successfully travels to Vinland. With Erik Gnupsson, we have the added benefit that he would have had much better knowledge of the first voyages of Leif Errikson, being that they had taken place only around 2-3 generations before. Hell, some of the elders he may have come in contact with may have even met men who initially took part, or at least their children.
So, the good bishop travels to Rome and shakes hands with the Pope (or kisses his ring, whatever). However, instead of that being the end of the story, our bishop Erik is also used as a primary source by some scholar, either in Rome or somewhere along the way, for information about the lands in the north-west. Gnupsson tells him about the voyages, about how he also went there personally, and gives an as good account as possible. The scholar’s work is a critical success, and western Europe takes the information as fact.
Some 50-60 years later, the then King of Denmark/Norway orders an expedition to Vinland, possibly as a result of correspondence with the Pope or whatever. Properly mapping out the lands, converting natives, finding cities to trade with (or plunder) could all be taken into account. Mainly, it would be a prestige project. Since the Greenlanders still have knowledge of the area (as demonstrated by the ship blown off-course), the chances of the royal expedition succeeding aren’t that small.
So, a bunch of ships sets sail from Norway, they stop over in Iceland, requisitioning what they need (even more ships if necessary), sail on to Greenland, do their thing there, and then sets off for Vinland.
It’s not unreasonable to assume they could make it as far south as Florida if they wanted to. Once they’re done, they head back. They bring with them a couple of captives and maybe some items and plants they may have traded for, and present these to their King. The King then writes to the Pope, maybe even sorta claims overlordship over the new lands, apologizes for the fact that the natives are too primitive to be converted, and even sends him one of these as a gift.
How does this influence European perceptions of the west, as well as the future age of exploration, if the commonly accepted view of the Atlantic is this (but without the blue gaps):
These voyages and details thereof are pretty well known in Iceland (hence the sagas); they are reasonably well known in Denmark, as demonstrated by this account, written about 1075 by Adam of Bremen, a German geographer and historian, as told to him by King Sveyn II of Denmark:
He also told me that many in this part of the Ocean have discovered an island called Vinland because there are grapevines growing wild which produces the best of wines. From trustworthy Danes rather than from fantastic tales, I also have heard that there is an abundance of cereal which is self-sown. Beyond this island, he (King Sven of Denmark) says, are no more inhabitable islands in the Ocean. Everything farther out is covered by immense masses of ice and perennial fog. Martianus tells of this:’ One day of sailing beyond Thule the sea is solid.’ This the widely travelled King Harold of Norway found to be true. With his ships he recently investigated the extent of the northern Ocean but finally had to turn back when the extreme limit of the world disappeared in fog before his eyes. He barely escaped the gaping ravine of the abyss.
Our good historian however became confused between Helluland and Halagland, the northernmost part of medieval Norway, where the "midnight sun" is visible. He also spelled Vinland in Latin the same as Wendland, the Polish province closest to Denmark.
Adam of Bremen became the source of the Geographica Universalis commpiled at Malmesbury Abbey in England (which placed Vinland east of Norway). Geographica Universalis was then in turn used as a source for the Polychronicon by Ranulf Higden - this put it west of Denmark but failed to explain the distance, with the island marked in its map as being east of Iceland, close to Scandinavia.
Furthermore
The Icelandic Erik Gnupsson, who was appointed as bishop of Greenland by the Pope, "went to seek Vinland" in 1121. He disappeares from the records after this.
68 years later, Jón Árnason (nicknamed Smyrill) became bishop of Greenland. He went on to meet the frickin Pope in 1202–1203.
The fact that in 1347, a ship arrived in Iceland, after being blown off course on its way home from Markland to Greenland with a load of timber kinda proves that the Greenlanders had continued to use Markland as a source of timber over several centuries and that people continued to travel there on occasion.
Now, let's combine these points:
Either Erik Gnupsson, Jón Árnason or some of the other bishops that came between them successfully travels to Vinland. With Erik Gnupsson, we have the added benefit that he would have had much better knowledge of the first voyages of Leif Errikson, being that they had taken place only around 2-3 generations before. Hell, some of the elders he may have come in contact with may have even met men who initially took part, or at least their children.
So, the good bishop travels to Rome and shakes hands with the Pope (or kisses his ring, whatever). However, instead of that being the end of the story, our bishop Erik is also used as a primary source by some scholar, either in Rome or somewhere along the way, for information about the lands in the north-west. Gnupsson tells him about the voyages, about how he also went there personally, and gives an as good account as possible. The scholar’s work is a critical success, and western Europe takes the information as fact.
Some 50-60 years later, the then King of Denmark/Norway orders an expedition to Vinland, possibly as a result of correspondence with the Pope or whatever. Properly mapping out the lands, converting natives, finding cities to trade with (or plunder) could all be taken into account. Mainly, it would be a prestige project. Since the Greenlanders still have knowledge of the area (as demonstrated by the ship blown off-course), the chances of the royal expedition succeeding aren’t that small.
So, a bunch of ships sets sail from Norway, they stop over in Iceland, requisitioning what they need (even more ships if necessary), sail on to Greenland, do their thing there, and then sets off for Vinland.
It’s not unreasonable to assume they could make it as far south as Florida if they wanted to. Once they’re done, they head back. They bring with them a couple of captives and maybe some items and plants they may have traded for, and present these to their King. The King then writes to the Pope, maybe even sorta claims overlordship over the new lands, apologizes for the fact that the natives are too primitive to be converted, and even sends him one of these as a gift.
How does this influence European perceptions of the west, as well as the future age of exploration, if the commonly accepted view of the Atlantic is this (but without the blue gaps):
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