shore of the Gulf for a short distance, Cartier headed his ships due southward, keeping close to the western shore of the great island almost its whole length; he then struck across the lower Gulf and, moving northward once more, reached the Baie des Chaleurs on the 6th July.  Here the boats were sent ashore and the French were able to do a little trading with the Indians.  About a week later, Cartier went northward once more and soon sought shelter from a violent gulf storm by anchoring in Gaspe Bay.  On the headland there he planted a great wooden cross with the arms of France, the first symbol of Bourbon dominion in the New Land, and the same symbol that successive explorers, chanting the Vexilla Regis, were in time to set aloft from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico.  It was the augury of the white man’s coming.

Crossing next to the southerly shore of Anticosti the voyageurs almost circled the island until the constant and adverse winds which Cartier met in the gradually narrowing channel forced him to defer indefinitely his hope of finding a western passage, and he therefore headed his ships back to Belle Isle.  It was now mid-August, and the season of autumnal storms was drawing near.  Cartier had come to explore, to search for a westward route to the Indies, to look for precious metals, not to establish a colony.  He accordingly decided to set sail for home and, with favoring winds, was able to reach St. Malo in the early days of September.

In one sense the voyage of 1534 had been a failure.  No stores of mineral wealth had been discovered and no short route to Cipango or Cathay.  Yet the spirit of exploration had been awakened.  Carrier’s recital of his voyage had aroused the interest of both the King and his people, so that the navigator’s request for better equipment to make another voyage was readily granted.  On May 19, 1535, Cartier once more set forth from St. Malo, this time with three vessels and with a royal patent, empowering him to take possession of new lands in his sovereign’s name.  With Cartier on this voyage there were over one hundred men, of whom the majority were hardened Malouins, veterans of the sea.  How he found accommodation for all of them, with supplies and provisions, in three small vessels whose total burden was only two hundred and twenty tons, is not least among the mysteries of this remarkable voyage.[1]

[Footnote 1:  The shipbuilders old measure for determining tonnage was to multiply the length of a vessel minus three-quarters of the beam by the beam, then to multiply the product by one-half the beam, then to divide this final product by 94.  The resulting quotient was the tonnage.  On this basis Cartier’s three ships were 67 feet length by 23 feet beam, 57 feet length by 17 feet beam, and 48 feet length by 17 feet beam, respectively.]