in 1497. On the third of July, of that year, he saw what is now believed to have been the coast of Labrador. After sailing a short distance south, he probably discovered the island of Newfoundland. In 1498, his son, Sebastian, explored the continent from Labrador to Virginia, and possibly as far south as Florida. Gaspar Cortereal, in 1500, reached the shore seen by John Cabot, and explored it several hundred miles. He was followed, in 1524, by John Verrazzano, who discovered the North American coast in, probably, the latitude of what is now Wilmington, North Carolina. He continued his exploration to the northward as far as Newfoundland. To the region visited by him, he gave the name of New France. The attention of the reader is now directed to some of the most important events, in the country thus named, which followed, for a period of a hundred and ten years, the voyage of Verrazzano.

HISTORY
OF THE
DISCOVERY OF THE NORTHWEST.

CHAPTER I.

EVENTS LEADING TO WESTERN EXPLORATION.

The discovery of the river St. Lawrence, and of the great lakes which pour their superabundant waters through it into the gulf, was not the least in importance of the events which signalized the opening of the history of the New World. The credit of having first spread a sail upon the majestic stream of Canada, and of obtaining such information as afterward led to a knowledge of the whole of its valley, belongs to James Cartier, a native of St. Malo—a port in the north of France. Cartier was a skillful mariner. On the twentieth of April, 1534, he sailed from his native place, under orders of the French admiral, for the coast of Newfoundland, intent on exploring unknown seas, and countries washed by them. He took with him two ships of fifty tons each, and in twenty days saw the large island lying between the ocean and the river he was soon to discover. Favorable winds had wafted him and his hundred and twenty-two sailors and adventurers to inhospitable shores, but at an auspicious season of the year.

Having sailed nearly around Newfoundland, Cartier turned to the south, and, crossing the gulf, entered a bay, which he named Des Chaleurs, because of the midsummer heats. A little farther north he landed and took possession of the country in the name of the French king. His vessels were now at anchor in the smaller inlet of Gaspé. Sailing still further north, Cartier, in August, discovered the river St. Lawrence. He moved up its channel until land was sighted on either side; then, being unprepared to remain through the winter, he sailed back again to the gulf, crossed the ocean, and moored his vessels in safety in St. Malo. He made the return voyage in less than thirty days. This was, at that period, an astonishing achievement. The success of the expedition filled the whole of France with wonder. In less than five months, the Atlantic had been crossed; a large river discovered; a new country added to the dominions of France; and the ocean recrossed. All this had been accomplished before it was generally known that an expedition had been undertaken.

The remarkable pleasantness of this summer's voyage, the narratives of Cartier and his companions, and the importance attached to their discoveries, aroused the enthusiasm of the French; and, as might be expected, a new expedition was planned. Three well-furnished ships were provided by the king. Even some of the nobility volunteered for the voyage. All were eager to cross the Atlantic. On the nineteenth of May, 1535, the squadron sailed. But Cartier had not, this time, a pleasant summer cruise. Storms raged. The ships separated. For seven weeks they buffeted the troubled ocean. Their rendezvous was the Straits of Belle Isle, which they finally reached; but the omens were bad. The adventurers had confidently looked for pleasant gales and a quick voyage, and these expectations had all been blasted. Now, however, they arrived within sight of Newfoundland, and their spirits rose. Carried to the west of that island, on the day of Saint Lawrence, they gave the name of that martyr to a portion of the gulf which opened before them. The name was afterward given to the whole of that body of water and to the river Cartier had previously discovered. Sailing to the north of Anticosti, they ascended the St. Lawrence, reaching, in September, a fine harbor in an island since called Orleans.

Leaving his two largest ships in the waters of the river now known as the St. Charles, Cartier, with the smallest and two open boats, ascended the St. Lawrence until a considerable Indian village was reached, situated on an island called Hochelaga. Standing upon the summit of a hill, on this island, and looking away up the river, the commander had fond imaginings of future glory awaiting his countrymen in colonizing this region. "He called the hill Mont-Réal, and time, that has transferred the name of the island, is realizing his visions;" for on that island now stands the city of Montreal. While at Hochelaga, Cartier gathered some indistinct accounts of the surrounding country, and of the river Ottawa coming down from the hills of the Northwest. Rejoining his ships, he spent the winter in a palisaded fort on the bank of the St. Charles, with his vessels moored before it. The cold was intense. Many of his men died of scurvy. Early in the spring, possession was again taken of the country in the name of the French king; and, on the sixteenth of July, 1536, the Breton mariner dropped anchor in St. Malo—he having returned in two ships; the other was abandoned, and three hundred and twelve years after was discovered imbedded in mud. France was disappointed. Hopes had been raised too high. Expectations had not been realized. Further explorations, therefore, were, for the time, postponed.

Notwithstanding the failure of Cartier's second voyage, the great valley of the St. Lawrence was not to remain very long unknown to the world, in any of its parts. It was thought unworthy a gallant nation to abandon the enterprise; and one more trial at exploration and colonization was determined upon. Again the bold mariner of St. Malo started for the St. Lawrence. This was on the twenty-third of May, 1541. He took with him five ships; but he went, unfortunately, as subordinate, in some respects, to John Francis de la Roque, Lord of Roberval, a nobleman of Picardy, whom the king of France had appointed viceroy of the country now again to be visited. The object of the enterprise was declared to be discovery, settlement, and the conversion of the Indians. Cartier was the first to sail. Again he entered the St. Lawrence.

After erecting a fort near the site of the present city of Quebec, Cartier ascended the river in two boats to explore the rapids above the island of Hochelaga. He then returned and passed the winter at his fort; and, in the spring, not having heard from the viceroy, he set sail for France. In June, 1542, in the harbor of St. John, he met the Lord of Roberval, outward bound, with three ships and two hundred men. The viceroy ordered Cartier to return to the St. Lawrence; but the mariner of St. Malo escaped in the night, and continued his voyage homeward. Roberval, although abandoned by his subordinate, once more set sail. After wintering in the St. Lawrence, he, too, abandoned the country—giving back his immense viceroyalty to the rightful owners.

In 1578, there were three hundred and fifty fishing vessels at Newfoundland belonging to the French, Spanish, Portuguese, and English; besides these were a number—twenty or more—of Biscayan whalers. The Marquis de la Roche, a Catholic nobleman of Brittany, encouraged by Henry IV., undertook the