Canada, it's a word we all know. You hear it
and you picture this vast country, right? Second
largest in the world. Maple leaves, the whole
thing. A G7 nation, multicultural cities, immense
forests. It's a word with a huge modern meaning.
Exactly. But if you peel back all of that history,
all that modern context, the word itself comes
from, well, a mistake. It's a misunderstanding
of a Huron -Iroquois word. It means village.
Just village. It's incredible. It might just
be the most successful typo in history. Think
about it. A word for a small group of houses
ends up on a map covering almost 10 million square
kilometers. And the man who made that mistake,
Jacques Cartier, he didn't even want a village.
He was looking for something much, much bigger.
He was looking for China. For the Spice Islands,
he was part of that great European push west,
trying to find a shortcut to the riches of Asia.
Canada was, to him, just an obstacle. And that's
what we're getting into today. We're doing a
deep dive into the source material around Jacques
Cartier, his own ship logs, contemporary accounts,
and the historical context of 16th century France.
Our mission here is to really unpack the story
of his three big voyages. This is a man who promised
his king gold, diamonds, and a route to Asia.
And what he delivered was... a really big river
some shiny rocks and one of the worst winters
imaginable it is a perfect story of expectation
just colliding head -on with reality but when
you look at the logs what really comes through
is the psychology of it all What do you mean?
The psychology of the explorer. You see how desperate
they were to find what they were sent to find?
They would look at a frozen Canadian river, completely
impassable, and convince themselves it was the
highway to Shanghai. And it's not just a story
about getting lost. It's about the human element.
We're going to get into the kidnappings, the
fool's gold, and the... incredibly complex and
often tragic relationship with the indigenous
peoples he met. It is a messy, messy story. Cartier
gets held up as this great discoverer. But the
sources show us a man who is often in way over
his head, frequently improvising and making some
really questionable moral choices. So let's start
at the beginning. Before he's got a bridge, the
name on a bridge or a park who was Jacques Cartier,
the notes put him in Saint -Malo, which I understand
was a bit of a... A rough and tumble place. Oh,
absolutely. Understanding Saint -Malo is key
to understanding Cartier. It's this granite fortress
of a city on the coast of Brittany. And in the
16th century, it wasn't just a fishing town.
It was a nest of corsairs. So pirates. State
-sanctioned pirates, which is an important distinction.
Privateers. These were sailors who were legally
allowed by the king to raid enemy shipping. So
if you grew up in St. Paul, you grew up in a
culture of very aggressive, very skilled seamanship.
You had to be tough. But Cartier himself wasn't
a corsair, was he? The records make him sound
a bit more respectable. He was. He was born in
1491, not into nobility, but he was a striver.
He was ambitious. The real turning point for
his social status was his marriage in 1520 to
a woman named Mary Catherine de Grange. And her
family was a step up. A big step up. They were
aristocratic. It was the classic move of marrying
into a higher social class, and it worked for
him. If you look at the local records from Sam
Lowe after that, his name starts popping up all
over the place as a godfather, as a witness at
important events. He's becoming a man of influence.
Exactly. He's building a reputation as a respectable,
trustworthy mariner. And in that world, that
trust was the currency you needed to get command
of a ship, let alone a royal expedition. So how
does he make that jump? From trusted local guy
in Saint -Malo to standing in front of the king
of France, Francis I, asking for ships, that's
a huge leap. He had a patron, a man named Jean
Levenor, who was the bishop of Saint -Malo and
an abbot at Mont Saint -Michel. A very powerful
man. He basically arranged the introduction.
He went to the king and vouched for Cartier.
And what was his pitch? Levenor told the king
that Cartier was an experienced navigator who
had already been to the New World, probably on
fishing trips to Newfoundland or even as far
as Brazil. And he said Cartier was the man who
could find the fabled Western Passage to Asia.
You have to remember the context here. It's 1534.
Spain is just drowning in wealth from the Americas.
They're literally hauling silver and gold out
of Mexico and Peru by the shipload. Fleets of
it. And France is just watching this, feeling
completely left out. A massive case of national
FOMO. That's the perfect way to put it. Francis
I famously complained that he wanted to see the
clause in Adam's will that divided the world
between Spain and Portugal and left France out.
He wanted his share. So the commission he gives
Cartier is very specific. Very. It wasn't go
and map some new lands for science. The orders
were crystal clear. Find a western route to the
wealthy markets of the east. End quote. Discover
certain islands and lands where it is said that
a great quantity of gold and other precious things
are to be found. Gold and spices. That's the
engine of the whole enterprise. That's it. So
Cartier sets off on his first voyage, April 20th,
1534. And when you look at the log, he just flies
across the Atlantic. How fast are we talking?
20 days. Yeah. Which is astonishingly fast for
a 16th century wooden ship. It really shows you
he was a master of the North Atlantic winds and
currents. This is not his first time out there.
So he arrives off Newfoundland, sails through
the Strait of Belle Isle, and enters the Gulf
of St. Lawrence. And this is where we get one
of those details from the logs that just makes
you stop and shudder a bit. The Islands of the
Birds. Yeah, yes. What are now called the Roche
-aux -Oiseaux. The crew is low on fresh meat.
They see these islands just covered in birds.
Great ox, we now know. Flightless, defenseless
birds. And the crew goes ashore. And they just
unleash a slaughter. The log is very matter -of
-fact about it. It says they killed about a thousand
of them. A thousand. They filled two long boats
with bird carcasses in under half an hour. Then
they salted barrels and barrels of them for the
rest of the voyage. To them, this wasn't an act
of cruelty. It was just... stocking the pantry.
It's just such a stark image of how they saw
this new world, not as an ecosystem, but as a
warehouse of resources there for the taking.
The concept of conservation or ecological limits
was completely alien to them. They saw an abundance
that they assumed was infinite. Of course, we
know the Great Auk is now extinct. So they stock
up on birds and continue on, looking for people
who can point the way to China. And they have
a few encounters. On the north side of Shalura
Bay, They meet a group, probably Micmac. There's
some cautious trading. But the whole mood of
the voyage changes when they sail into Gaspé
Bay. This is where they meet the St. Lawrence
Iroquoians. Yes. A large group of about 200 people
who had come down from their main settlements
upriver to fish for mackerel for the summer.
Their leader is a chief named Donna Kona. And
at first, things are okay, right? They are. The
log describes some singing and dancing, gifts
being exchanged. It's wary, but it's not hostile.
But then, on July 24th, Cartier does something
that completely changes the dynamic. He plants
the cross. A massive one, 10 meters high that's
over 30 feet. And he attaches a shield to it
with the French fleur -de -lis and carves the
words, Vive le roi de France. Long live the king
of France. Now, did he think they wouldn't understand
what that meant? Was it naive or was it a provocation?
Oh, he knew what he was doing. And what's really
fascinating is that Don Acona knew exactly what
he was doing, too. He didn't need a translator
for that symbol. Not at all. He saw this giant
foreign totem being planted on his people's land.
The sources say he got in his canoe, came out
to Cartier's ship dressed in an old bearskin,
and just let him have it. He made this long speech,
pointing at the cross and then at the land around
them, making it clear, this is ours. You can't
just put up a big stick and claim it. And Cartier's
response is, less than honest? It's pure deception.
He invites them aboard, gives them food and drink,
and tells them the cross is no big deal. It's
just a landmark, a navigational beacon to help
them find the harbor when they come back. Which
is a complete lie. A total lie. But it calms
the situation down enough for him to get close
to Donacona's two sons, Domogaya and Tagadny.
And this is where the first kidnapping takes
place. He just grabs them. It's a bit more complex.
He dresses them in French clothes, gives them
gifts, and then essentially coerces their father
into letting him take them to France. The deal,
as Donacona understood it, was that they would
be brought back the following year with a shipload
of European goods. But just imagine being one
of those sons. You've lived your whole life in
a village on the St. Lawrence River, and now
you're on this creaking wooden ship, sailing
into a world you can't even conceive of. It had
to be utterly terrifying. But for Cartier, they
were his proof of concept. He could go back to
the king, show him these two men, have them learn
French, and get them to tell the king about the
great river that led west. They were his ticket
to a second voyage. And it worked like a charm.
Because in May of 1535, he's back. And this time,
he's not just exploring. He means business. This
is voyage number two, a much bigger expedition.
Three ships this time, the Grand Armine, the
Petit Armine, and the smaller Amérien. He has
a crew of 110 men. And crucially, he has his
two guides. And this is the voyage where he actually
sails up the river. This is it. This is the first
documented European navigation of the St. Lawrence
River. Guided by the two sons, he sails past
Anticosti Island and realizes this isn't just
a bay. This is a massive waterway leading deep
into the continent. And this brings us to the
name, the Canada. Mistake. I just love this part
of the story. It's a perfect example of two cultures
completely talking past each other. As they're
sailing upriver, they're heading for the Iroquoian
capital, a place called Statacona. Which is near
modern -day Quebec City. Exactly. And the two
guides are pointing ahead, and they use their
word, Kanata. Meaning, village. Right. They're
just saying, the village is just ahead. But Cartier
hears Kanata, and on his charts, he writes it
down as the name for the entire region. He thinks
that's what the whole country is called. He does,
and the name just sticks. First it reflected
that small area, then it expanded to the whole
north shore of the river, and eventually, centuries
later, it becomes the name for the second largest
country on Earth. All from one little misunderstanding.
So they get to Staticona, they meet Donacona
again. The reunion must have been tense. I imagine
so. But also, a relief for Donacona, seeing his
sons returned. But Cartier isn't satisfied with
Staticona. He has gold fever. He's hearing stories
from the locals about another, bigger settlement.
further upriver, a place called Hochelaga. And
Donacona doesn't want him to go. No, Donacona
tries everything to stop him. He probably wanted
to control the French and monopolize any trade.
He tells Cartier the river is too dangerous,
that there are monsters. He even has three men
dress up as devils with long horns and blackened
faces to try and scare the French away. That's
a theatrical. It is, but Cartier isn't buying
it. He accuses them of trickery and says his
god will protect him. He leaves his two main
ships and most of his men at Staticona and pushes
upriver in the smallest vessel, the Emerion.
To Hochelaga, which is basically in Montreal.
It's on the island of Montreal, yes. And when
he gets there, the place is much more impressive
than Staticona. It's a large, fortified village
with a triple palisade, surrounded by vast fields
of corn. The log says a crowd of over a thousand
people came out to greet them. He's a celebrity!
He is. They carry him on their shoulders. They
bring their sick for him to touch, as if he's
a healer. He reads in the Gospel of John. It's
this moment of incredible cultural collision.
But Cartier has one thing on his mind. China.
China. He is led to the top of the mountain that
dominates the island. He names it Mount Royal,
which is where we get the name Montreal. And
he looks out to the west over the Ottawa River,
and he's expecting the Pacific Ocean. He's expecting
to see a clear path, a waterway that will take
him to Asia. He is so close he can taste it.
And instead, what he sees is just water, but
it's white. It's frothing. Rapids. Vicious, impassable
rapids. And you have to understand, for a 16th
century sailing ship, rapids are not an inconvenience.
They are a brick wall, a dead end. Hitting a
rock in that current would be the end of the
ship and everyone on it. Instantly. So he's standing
there. on Mont Royal, and his entire dream of
a Northwest Passage just dies right in front
of his eyes. The disappointment must have been
absolutely crushing. But the irony, and I love
this part, the irony is that he was so convinced
that China was just on the other side of that
white water that the area eventually got a nickname.
It did. The Rapids and the town that grew up
near them became known as Lachine. The China
Rapids. It's a joke that's literally carved into
the map of Canada. It's a permanent monument
to his stubborn delusion. He couldn't accept
that this was a new continent with its own geography.
He had to force it into his pre -existing mental
map. So he hits this wall. He has to turn back.
He sails back downriver to Staticona. But there's
a problem. He's been upriver too long. He has.
By the time he gets back, it's mid -October.
And as anyone who's spent time in Quebec can
tell you, winter doesn't ask for permission.
It just arrives. And Carquier, a man from the
relatively mild maritime climate of Brittany,
has absolutely no idea what he's in for. He is
about to face a full -blown Canadian continental
winter. And it's going to destroy his expedition.
This part of the log, it reads like a horror
story. They haul their ships into a small tributary,
build a makeshift fort, and then the world just
freezes around them. The river freezes solid.
The log says the ice was more than two fathoms
thick. That's over three and a half meters. The
ships were locked in place. The snow on the shore
was over a meter deep. They are trapped. Completely
trapped. And they're living in the hulls of these
ships, which are basically frozen wooden caves.
He writes that the inside walls were covered
in ice four fingers thick. It's dark. It's cramped.
The food is spoiling. And then the disease starts.
Scurvy. We know today it's just a simple vitamin
C deficiency. But to them, it was a terrifying,
mysterious plague. They had no idea what caused
it or how to stop it. The descriptions are just
gruesome. They are. Cartier writes about how
his men's legs would swell up and turn black
and purple like they were brewed. Their gums
would rot away, becoming so putrid that their
teeth would just loosen and fall out. Just fall
out of their heads. Yes. And strangest of all,
old wounds, scars from years before, would suddenly
reopen and start to fester. It was like their
bodies were just falling apart from the inside
out. It's a nightmare how many men were affected.
Pretty much everyone. By mid -February, Cartier
writes that out of his 110 men, there weren't
even 10 who were healthy enough to care for the
others. Men were dying every day. They stopped
trying to bury them because the ground was frozen
solid. They just hid the bodies in snowdrifts
around the fort. It's so grim. There's a note
on an old Spanish map from around that time.
It points to that very spot and says simply,
here many French died of hunger. They were facing
total annihilation. They were all going to die
there, frozen in the ice. And the only reason
they didn't is the Iroquois. The very people
he had been, you know, manipulating and lying
to. Exactly. Cartier noticed that Domagaya, one
of the sons he'd kidnapped, had been sick with
the same symptoms, but had suddenly made a full
recovery. He was walking around healthy. So Cartier,
in complete desperation, goes and asks him for
the secret. He does. And Domagaya tells him about
a specific tree, which he calls a netta. We think
it was probably eastern white cedar, maybe a
type of spruce. And what did they do with it?
Domagaya teaches them to boil the bark and the
needles to make a tea, a decoction. It would
have been incredibly rich in vitamin C and also
ascorbic acid. It's the miracle cure. It was.
Carty writes that at first his men were suspicious.
They didn't want to drink this strange tree bark
tea. But two or three of them tried it, and within
a day or two, they started to feel better. And
then it was a frenzy. A complete frenzy. He says
they stripped a tree as large as any I ever saw,
completely bare in less than a week. And it worked.
It just worked. The scurvy was cured. The irony
is just staggering. The man he kidnapped is the
only reason his expedition survived. It's a powerful
lesson in interdependence. But Cartier, being
Cartier, repays this incredible act of humanity
in a very characteristic way. Let me guess. It
involves another kidnapping. You guessed it.
Spring finally arrives. The ice breaks up. It's
time to go home. But what does he have to show
for it? He lost 25 men. He didn't find a passage
to China. He didn't find any gold. A story about
a miracle tree isn't going to impress the king.
Not enough to fund a third voyage. He needs something
more spectacular. He needs a story about gold.
And he decides the best person to tell that story
is the chief himself, Donna Kona. So this is
where the mythical kingdom of Saguenay comes
into play. What was that exactly? That's the
million -franc question. The Iroquoians, Donna
Coney included, have been telling Cartier stories
about a wealthy kingdom to the north, up the
Saguenay River. a place where people were as
white as in France, wore woolen clothes, and
had vast amounts of gold, rubies, and other precious
metals. Was any of it true? It's hard to say.
One theory is that it was a garbled description
of a real indigenous trade network. Maybe they
were describing copper from the Great Lakes,
and Carquier, in his gold -obsessed mind, just
heard gold. Or they were just telling him what
he wanted to hear. That's the other more cynical
theory, that the Iroquois were smart. They figured
out what these strange bearded men wanted more
than anything. It was this yellow metal. So they
said, oh, the gold. Yeah, lots of it. But it's
not here. It's way over there. You should go
look for it. Who bothered the people in Saguenay?
Precisely. It was a clever way to try and get
rid of them. But Cartier bought it. Hook, line,
and sinker. He needed it to be real. So he decides
to take Donnacona back to France to tell this
story to the king himself. He hashes a plot.
He pretends to be having a celebration, lures
Donnacona, the two sons, and several other headmen
into his fort, and then he seizes them. He captures
the entire leadership of Statacona. And sails
for France. He promised the people he'd bring
them back in a year. A promise he had no intention
of keeping. None of them ever saw their home
again. They all died in France within a few years.
But Donnacona did his job first. He did. Before
he died, he was presented at court. And he told
King Francis the first incredible tales of the
kingdom of Saguenay. Fantastical stories of one
-legged men, people who could fly, and a kingdom
overflowing with gold. And the king believed
it. The king was hooked. This was exactly what
he wanted to hear. He immediately began planning
a third voyage. But this time, the entire objective
had changed. It's now 1541. Five years have passed.
The goal is no longer just exploration or finding
a passage. The king's orders are for colonization.
He wants to build a permanent French settlement,
claim the territory, and find and exploit the
riches of Saguenay. But there's a catch for Cartier.
A big one. A very big one. He's the expert. He's
the only one who really knows the St. Lawrence.
But the king doesn't put him in charge of the
whole enterprise. Who gets the job? A nobleman,
a courtier, and a soldier named Jean -Francois
de la Roque de Roberval. He's named lieutenant
general of Canada. Cartier is demoted to chief
navigator. Ouch. That must have stung. It was
a class thing. Colonization was seen as a military
and aristocratic venture. Cartier was a commoner,
a sailor from Saint -Malo. He wasn't considered
high status enough to lead it. But this decision
effectively doomed the mission from the start
because Cartier and Roberval did not get along.
And their coordination was a mess from day one.
A total mess. Roberval was delayed, waiting for
artillery and more supplies. He told Cartier
to sail on ahead with five ships and about 1
,500 people. Cartier left in May 1541. 1 ,500
people? That's not an expedition. That's an invasion
force. It is. It includes settlers, soldiers,
even livestock. This is meant to be permanent.
So Cartier arrives back at Statacona. He has
to face the Iroquoians, now led by a new chief,
Agona. And he has to explain what happened to
Donacona and the others. And again. He lies.
He tells them Donnacona died in France, which
was true. But he claims the other chiefs had
become great lords, married French women, and
had chosen to stay in France and live in luxury.
Did anyone believe him? Not for a second. The
log says Agona pretended to be happy about it,
probably because Donacona was his political rival.
But the trust was completely shattered. The French
were now seen as kidnappers and liars. So Staticona
is no longer a safe place for them. No. Cartier
recognizes the danger. The Iroquois are openly
hostile. So he abandons Staticona and sails a
few miles upriver to a high cliff at the mouth
of the Cap Rouge River. And there... He builds
the first fortified European settlement in what
is now Canada. He calls it Charlesburg Royal.
And they actually try to make a go of it. They
plant crops. They do. The log says they planted
cabbage, turnip, and lettuce, which grew well.
They built two forts, one at the base of the
cliff and one at the top. They were settling
in for the long haul. And then the men started
finding something in the rocks. Here we go. The
gold fever returns. With a vengeance. They find
these shiny yellow specks in the slate cliffs.
And down by the river, they find loads of these
hard, clear stones that glitter in the sun like,
well... Diamonds? Diamonds. Karkarchi is beyond
excited. He is convinced he's finally found it.
The wealth of Saguenay. He packs barrels and
barrels of the stuff. He believes he's about
to become the richest man in France. But while
they're digging for diamonds, the situation outside
the fort is getting worse. Much worse. They are
essentially living under siege. The Iroquoians,
who now vastly outnumber them, refuse to trade.
They begin a campaign of guerrilla warfare, attacking
any small group of French who wander too far
from the fort. We don't have Cartier's full log
for that winter, do we? No, it's lost to history.
But later accounts from sailors on the voyage
tell us that at least 35 of the settlers were
killed in these skirmishes. It was a brutal...
Terrifying winter. And Cartier is stuck there.
He's got his barrels of treasure, but he's surrounded
by enemies. Winter is setting in, and his boss,
Roberval, is nowhere to be seen. So he makes
a decision. He decides to cut his losses and
run. In early June of 1542... He makes the call
to abandon Charlesburg Royal. He packs up all
his gold and diamonds, loads everyone onto the
ships, and flees for France. And this leads to
maybe the most dramatic scene in the entire story.
He's sailing home. He pulls into the harbor at
St. John's, Newfoundland to get supplies. And
who should be sailing in? His boss, Jean -Francois
de Roberville, finally arriving from France with
his three ships and 200 more settlers. That has
to be the most awkward meeting in the history
of exploration. Oh, hello, boss. Funny seeing
you here. I was just... quitting. Roberval is
absolutely furious. He's just crossed the Atlantic
and his chief navigator is running away. He holds
a council and formally orders Cartier to turn
his ships around and sail back to the colony
with him. A direct order from his commanding
officer? Yes. But Cartier thinks he has an ace
up his sleeve. He has the diamonds. He has the
gold. He believes he is carrying a fortune that
will make the king forgive any act of insubordination.
So he disobeys the order? In the most flagrant
way possible. During the night, he has his sailors
quietly weigh anchor, and under the cover of
darkness, he slips his ships out of the harbor.
He deserts his commander and his mission. He
ghosts him. That's unbelievable. That's a court
martial offense. Treason, even. It is. But he's
betting everything on that cargo. He sails back
to France, he gets his audience with the king,
he presents his barrels of treasure, and the
royal assayers get to work. And the verdict comes
in. The gold is iron pyrite. Fool's gold. The
diamonds are quartz crystals. They're all completely,
utterly worthless. Oh, the humiliation. You abandon
a colony. You defy your commander. You risk everything
for a boatload of gravel. The failure was so
total. So spectacular that it actually became
a part of the French language. For centuries
after, there was a common proverb, faux comme
les diamants du Canada. As false as Canadian
diamonds. Exactly. If you wanted to say something
was a complete fraud, a total sham, you compared
it to Cartier's great discovery. And what happened
to Rob Reval, the guy he abandoned in Newfoundland?
Rob Reval, to his credit, carried on. He sailed
to the abandoned fort at Charlesburg Royal, reestablished
the colony, and tried to stick it out for the
winter. How did that go for him? It was a catastrophe.
The winter was just as brutal. Scurvy came back
with a vengeance. Fifty settlers died from it,
and the attacks on the Iroquois were relentless.
By the spring of 1543, he gave up, backed up
the survivors, and sailed home. So the whole
colonization effort was a complete failure. An
expensive and deadly failure. And because of
it, France completely lost interest in Canada.
They basically wrote it off as a frozen, worthless
wasteland full of hostile people and fake diamonds.
They wouldn't make another serious attempt at
colonization for more than 60 years until Samuel
de Champlain arrived in the early 1600s. And
Cartier, what becomes of him after all this?
He retires in disgrace to his estate near Saint
-Malo. He lives out his days quietly, occasionally
working as a Portuguese interpreter for the local
courts. He dies in 1557 during an outbreak of
typhus, a pretty anticlimactic end for the man
who named Canada. But the story doesn't quite
end there, because for centuries, the exact location
of that failed colony, Charlesburg Royal, was
lost. That's right. People knew it was near Cap
Rouge, but the precise spot was a mystery until...
Very recently. 2006, I think. Yes, in 2006, a
team of Canadian archaeologists finally found
it. They uncovered the remains of the timber
forts, blacksmith forges, and most tellingly,
a very specific piece of pottery. A fragment
of a beautiful, ornate Italian ceramic plate.
It's called Fononza Istoriata Ware, made between
1540 and 1550. This wasn't the kind of thing
a common sailor or a farmer would own. This was
high -end... Luxury dinnerware. It had to belong
to an aristocrat. It almost certainly belonged
to Robert Ravel himself. It's this tiny, tangible
piece of the French Renaissance court found shattered
and buried in the Canadian soil. It's the proof.
It's the whole story real. It's amazing. It connects
that whole grand, doomed enterprise right back
to a single person eating his dinner while a
Canadian winter howled outside. And dreaming
of Saguenay. So when we zoom out and look at
the whole picture, how do we assess Jacques Cartier?
He was looking for Asia. He found a river. He
wanted gold. He found quartz. He heard the word
for village and thought it was a country. It's
a legacy of failure that somehow became a success.
He failed at every single one of his stated objectives.
He didn't find the passage. He didn't find any
wealth. His colony was a disaster. But in failing,
he was the first European to penetrate. map,
and describe the gateway to the North American
continent. Uh -huh. The St. Lawrence River. He
put it on the map. He gave the place its name.
Without Cartier's voyages and charts, Champlain
would have had nowhere to start. Cartier opened
the door, even if he couldn't see what was on
the other side. And his treatment of the Iroquois.
The kidnappings. That set a tone, didn't it?
It did. It set a precedent for deceit and mistrust
that poisoned relations for a long time. He was
a brilliant navigator. He never lost a ship at
sea, which is remarkable. But his diplomacy was
dishonorable, even by the standards of his own
time. So he's not the discoverer of Canada? We
know Vikings and Basque fishermen were there
long before him. No, but he is the first to systematically
explore and map the interior waterway. That's
his real lasting contribution. It all comes back
to mistakes, doesn't it? A story of mistaken
geography with China, mistaken geology with the
diamonds, and a mistaken translation with the
name Canada. Which brings us to a final thought
to leave you with. Cartier kidnapped a chief
to have him tell the king a story about a mythical
kingdom of gold called Saguenay. Was Saguenay
just a tall tale the Iroquoians told to get the
French to leave them alone? Or was it a genuine
misunderstanding of a real trade network? And
think about this. The false diamonds of Canada
became a proverb for a sham. They were forgotten.
But the false name for the country, Canada, the
village, that mistake became a nation. What does
it say about how history works? That sometimes
the errors are the things that last the longest?
A question worth thinking about. On that note,
thank you for joining us for this deep dive into
the river to nowhere. It's been a fascinating
and very complicated journey.