The great probability of a North West Passage: deduced from observations on the letter of Admiral de Fonte

In Short

This work serves as a scholarly defense of the controversial 1640 voyage of Admiral de Fonte, a Spanish explorer who allegedly discovered a water passage connecting the South Sea to the Atlantic. Through careful cartographic analysis, comparative research of period journals, and a close reading of the Admiral’s translated letters, the author attempts to silence critics who dismiss the account as fiction. By contextualizing the search within eighteenth-century geopolitical competition, the book elevates the quest for the North West Passage from a mere maritime myth to a vital matter of national commerce and scientific discovery.

The Story

The narrative begins with a formal dedication and an inquiry into the "great probability" of a North West Passage, an idea that had captivated European explorers for over two centuries. The author immediately establishes his premise: the letter of Admiral de Fonte, though long criticized as a hoax, contains too many precise geographical and logistical details to be an invention. The argument follows a steady progression, moving from the historical context of Spanish maritime interests in the 17th century to the technical specifics of the Admiral’s journey from the coast of Peru northward toward the "Tartarian Sea."

The author meticulously dissects the Admiral’s itinerary, explaining how de Fonte mobilized ships and shallops, recruited experienced local navigators, and navigated inland rivers and lakes. He confronts the skepticism of Jesuit chronicler Miguel Venegas, whose own historical records have been used to discredit de Fonte. By comparing the Admiral’s path to the journals of other explorers—including de Fuca and the English navigators like Gibbons and Shapley—the author builds a web of circumstantial evidence. He argues that the apparent inconsistencies in the surviving texts are not evidence of a forgery, but rather the result of translation errors and the secretive nature of the Spanish court, which kept such discoveries under lock and key to protect trade advantages.

As the argument deepens, the focus shifts to the practical implications of such a discovery. The author examines the physical obstacles of the region, the behavior of tides, and the accounts of inland inhabitants, arguing that if a ship from Boston could reach the Western Sea, the passage must exist. The final arc of the work expands from the specific case of de Fonte to the broader landscape of Labrador and the ongoing efforts of the Hudson’s Bay Company. The book concludes with a detailed account of a later expedition in 1753 near Labrador, documenting encounters with the Eskemaux and the potential for new trade routes. By framing these observations within the context of ongoing commercial interests, the author leaves the reader with the firm conviction that the North West Passage is not a "visionary scheme," but a geographical reality waiting to be fully mapped and utilized by the British Crown.

How It Unfolds

The premise of the inquiry The author introduces the central controversy: whether the letter of Admiral de Fonte is a fraudulent document or an overlooked piece of primary evidence. He insists that a fair judgment requires moving beyond prior prejudices to examine the "concurring circumstances" that align with established maritime history.

The de Fonte itinerary The text breaks down the Admiral’s journey, analyzing his departure from Peru and his movement through intricate waterways and inland lakes. By evaluating the specific measurements, tidal observations, and descriptions of the terrain, the author demonstrates how these details mimic the work of an experienced seaman rather than a novelist.

Confronting the skeptics The argument addresses the objections of geographers and Jesuits who claimed no such voyage occurred. Through careful historical detective work, the author shows that many of these critics were working with incomplete records or had a vested interest in dismissing Spanish naval achievements.

The broader context of trade The final section moves toward the practical, detailing the importance of the passage for modern commerce. The inclusion of the 1753 Labrador expedition provides a contemporary anchor, illustrating the dangers and potential of northern exploration while highlighting the persistent, if sometimes messy, interactions between European traders and native populations.

The People

The central figure is Admiral de Fonte, the elusive Spanish commander. To the author, he is a man of significant professional integrity whose legacy has been unfairly muddied by the passage of time and the secrecy of the Spanish crown. He is the bridge between the speculative map-makers and the empirical reality of the sea. Standing in opposition to him is Miguel Venegas, the Jesuit historian whose writings cast doubt on the Admiral’s account. The author treats Venegas not as a villain, but as a misguided authority whose inability to access secret state papers led him to prematurely dismiss a legitimate discovery. Finally, there is the author himself, a geographer who positions himself as an impartial judge. He is driven by a desire for historical truth and the advancement of trade. Unlike the explorers he tracks, his struggle is against the "prepossession from common fame"—the entrenched public belief that the search for the passage is a fool's errand.

In Its Own Voice

"The various Courses, Distances, &c. that Bernarda went."

The author outlines the rigorous level of detail found in the primary records, which he believes serves as proof of the expedition's legitimacy.

"The various Branches of Evidence cannot be rejected, if we make a fair Judgment in this Matter."

This line captures the author's plea to the reader to set aside the "common fame" and look at the cumulative data objectively.

"The Eskemaux were also treated with great Contempt and Rudeness."

This observation, taken from the account of the 1753 Labrador expedition, provides a sobering insight into the friction between explorers and the indigenous people they encountered.

What It's Really About

The book is a study of historical credibility and the politics of knowledge. At its core, it asks how a society decides what is "true" when the evidence is buried in secret state archives or obscured by translation. The author argues that scientific progress is often hindered by nationalistic pride and the tendency to dismiss inconvenient records as "romance" rather than engaging with the technical data. It is also an argument for the utility of exploration; the author believes that every failed or disputed voyage is a building block for future commercial success, and that the "advancement of trade" is a noble enough cause to justify the risks of the Arctic.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of science, cartography, or the Age of Discovery will find this book a fascinating look at the eighteenth-century mind. It offers a rare window into how geographical knowledge was constructed—and debated—before modern satellites rendered such mysteries obsolete. The prose is earnest and methodical, reflecting a time when geography was as much about political maneuvering as it was about physical science.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the book's density. It is written in a formal, eighteenth-century style that prioritizes logic and legalistic argumentation over narrative flair. It also contains the period-typical attitudes of its time, particularly in its detached, colonial perspective on the inhabitants of the lands being "discovered." If you enjoy the challenge of intellectual puzzle-solving and want to see how early geographers grappled with the gaps in their maps, you will find this a rewarding, if demanding, read. It remains a testament to the persistent human drive to find a way through the unknown, capturing the exact moment when the world was becoming smaller, yet remained stubbornly, tantalizingly incomplete.