19. Heroes and Villains of the Age of Exploration: The Journeys of Giovanni da Verrazzano

My Name is Francis I: King of France

I was born in 1494 into the House of Valois, a royal line that had ruled France for centuries. My early years were filled with lessons of chivalry, religion, and the responsibilities that would one day fall upon me. I was not expected at first to become king, but fate and the death of those before me brought me to the throne in 1515 at the age of twenty.

The Battle of Marignano

Soon after taking the crown, I proved my strength in battle. At Marignano, I led French forces against the Swiss and claimed victory. That triumph secured my reputation as a warrior king and established France’s influence in northern Italy. It was a defining moment, one that gave me both glory and enemies.

A Patron of the Renaissance

I believed that a king’s power was not only measured on the battlefield but also in the flourishing of art and knowledge. I welcomed Leonardo da Vinci to my court, encouraged painters, poets, and architects, and helped usher the Renaissance into France. The Château de Chambord, one of my proudest projects, stood as a testament to beauty, innovation, and royal ambition.

Rivalries with Europe’s Powers

My reign was consumed by struggles against Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain. We fought over lands in Italy, over influence in Europe, and over pride. These wars drained my kingdom’s strength but also defined my place as one of Europe’s great monarchs. Diplomacy, alliances, and shifting loyalties were constant, for survival demanded nothing less.

Dreams Across the Ocean

Though much of my energy was spent on wars in Europe, I also looked across the seas. Spain and Portugal had grown rich with discoveries in the New World, and I would not stand idle while they divided the globe. I sent explorers like Giovanni da Verrazzano to chart unknown coasts, searching for a passage to Asia and laying claims for France in the Americas.

Faith and Turmoil

In matters of religion, my reign was marked by both devotion and unrest. I remained a defender of the Catholic faith, but the rise of Protestantism stirred tension within my kingdom. What began as whispers of reform grew into conflict that would trouble France long after my time.

The End of My Reign

I ruled France for more than thirty years, leaving behind a kingdom both enriched and burdened. I gave France a place among the great powers of Europe, nurtured its culture, and set it on a path toward overseas expansion. Yet I also left wars unfinished and conflicts unresolved. When I died in 1547, my son Henry II took the throne, carrying forward both the weight of my struggles and the promise of my dreams.

The Rise of French Ambitions in the Age of Exploration – Told by King Francis I

When I came to the throne of France in 1515, I looked out upon a world already carved by Spain and Portugal. These two powers claimed vast seas and distant lands under the Treaty of Tordesillas, as if God Himself had given them dominion over the oceans. I asked, half in jest and half in defiance, to see Adam’s will that had divided the earth between them. France was a kingdom of strength and pride, and I would not see it left behind.

The Desire for Wealth and Trade

Gold, silver, spices, and silks flowed into the coffers of our rivals, while France received little of this bounty. The stories of ships returning heavy with riches filled me with determination to seize our share. For a king, wealth was not mere luxury; it was the lifeblood of armies, the foundation of power, and the means to make France shine above all others. To rival Spain and Portugal, we needed ships, sailors, and explorers bold enough to challenge the oceans.

The Call of Exploration

I turned my gaze westward, believing that beyond the Atlantic lay opportunities for France. The Spanish had reached the Americas, and the Portuguese had found the way around Africa to Asia. France, too, would carve a path of discovery. I gave my support to men like Giovanni da Verrazzano, who sailed under my banner to map new coasts and claim lands for our kingdom. These journeys were not idle ventures; they were a declaration that France would take her place upon the seas.

Spreading France’s InfluenceThe sea promised more than treasure. It offered a stage upon which France could project her greatness. Every new map marked with our presence, every alliance forged with distant peoples, was a step toward a wider influence. I sought not only to enrich France but to raise her name among nations, so that no court in Europe could ignore her power.

The Beginning of Our Empire

Though our first attempts did not yield gold or vast dominions, they laid the foundation for what was to come. Verrazzano’s voyage revealed new lands and opened the way for later explorers. Our ambitions, once mocked, became a steady pursuit that would, in time, give France its colonies in the New World. The dream began with rivalry and the lure of wealth, but it was driven by the greater vision of making France a power across both land and sea.

My Name is Giovanni da Verrazzano: Navigator for France

My Early Life in ItalyI was born around 1485 in Val di Greve, near Florence, Italy. From an early age, I was drawn to the sea and to stories of far-off lands. Italy at this time was alive with trade and discovery, and I longed to follow in the footsteps of men who had crossed unknown oceans.

Becoming a Sailor and Explorer

I first gained experience sailing in the Mediterranean, where merchants and kingdoms competed for wealth and influence. Soon, I found opportunities to venture farther, joining voyages that took me as far as the eastern Mediterranean and perhaps even to England. These journeys gave me the skill and courage to attempt greater feats.

In Service to King Francis I

France had grown eager to claim its place in the Age of Exploration, and King Francis I sought new routes and new lands to rival Spain and Portugal. I entered his service, hoping to find a passage to Asia across the Atlantic. The king trusted me with ships and men, and with that trust, I prepared to seek the unknown.

My Great Voyage of 1524

In January 1524, I set sail from Dieppe aboard La Dauphine, bound westward across the Atlantic. After weeks of harsh seas, I reached the coast of what you now know as North Carolina. From there, I sailed northward, exploring and mapping much of the eastern seaboard. I passed through regions that are today New York Harbor, Narragansett Bay, and as far as Newfoundland. Along the way, I met many Indigenous peoples whose ways of life were new to me.

Encounters with the New World

I marveled at the lands I saw and described them in detail for my king. I believed that beyond the Outer Banks there might be a strait leading to the Pacific, a mistake that lingered in maps for years. Still, my voyage gave Europe its first detailed look at the Atlantic coast of North America and claimed it for France.

Further Voyages and Perils

I did not stop after 1524. I continued sailing, seeking new opportunities and new discoveries. My life at sea was filled with both glory and danger. In my final journey in 1528, while exploring the Caribbean, I fell into the hands of the Carib people on an island near Guadeloupe. There, my life was cut short in violence far from my homeland.

My Legacy

Though my years were not many, my voyage left a mark on history. I gave France its first vision of North America, opening the way for future explorers. Maps carried my name, and the bridge in New York City honors me centuries later. I died far from home, but my story remains tied to the age when nations dared to chase the horizon.

My Journey Across the Atlantic (1524) – Told by Giovanni da Verrazzano

In the year 1524, I departed from Dieppe aboard La Dauphine, a ship entrusted to me by King Francis I. Our mission was bold and uncertain: to seek a western route to Asia and to claim new lands for France. The Atlantic stretched before us like a vast and perilous wilderness. My crew and I faced storms, hunger, and the endless rolling of the sea, yet the promise of discovery drove us forward.

First Sight of the New World

After weeks of hardship, we sighted land along the coast of what you now call North Carolina. The sight of green shores rising from the ocean filled us with awe. The land seemed untouched, rich with forests and rivers, and I believed we had reached the threshold of great opportunity. We stepped ashore carefully, meeting Indigenous peoples who regarded us with both curiosity and caution. Their presence reminded me that these were not empty lands but homelands to others.

Exploring the Atlantic Coast

From North Carolina, we sailed northward along the coast, mapping every curve and bay with great care. We discovered a magnificent harbor, now known as New York Harbor, where the waters opened into a grand estuary surrounded by fertile land. I imagined that one day it could serve as a gateway for France into this new world. We continued on to Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island, where we encountered friendly Indigenous peoples who welcomed us with hospitality. Their ways of life, so different from ours, I described in letters to my king.

Further Northward to Newfoundland

We pressed onward, passing through rugged coasts and colder waters until we reached the shores of Newfoundland. By then, our supplies ran low and our men longed for home. We had not found the passage to Asia we had hoped for, but we had charted a vast stretch of coast unknown to Europeans. From Carolina to Newfoundland, I carried France’s banner, leaving behind knowledge that would guide future explorers.

The Legacy of My Voyage

Though I did not return with riches, my journey proved that France could claim its place in the Age of Exploration. The maps we created became the foundation for France’s ambitions in North America. I saw a land full of promise, and though my own life would later end far from those coasts, I take pride in knowing that I was the first to reveal them to my king and country.

Encounters with Indigenous Peoples – Told by Giovanni da Verrazzano

When I first set foot upon the coasts of the New World in 1524, I met the peoples who had long called these lands their home. In what is now the Carolinas, we saw men and women who watched us carefully as strangers from across the sea. At first, there was distance between us, for we did not share language or custom. Yet I could see in their eyes the same curiosity that filled our own.

Observing Their Ways of Life

As we sailed northward, I studied their lives with care. I saw people who lived close to the earth, drawing sustenance from the sea, the rivers, and the forests. Their villages were well ordered, their clothing fashioned from animal skins, and their food drawn from both the hunt and the harvest. They welcomed the warmth of community fires and lived with a simplicity that seemed free of the greed and divisions of Europe. I marveled at their strength, their health, and their ability to live in balance with their land.

Exchanges of Goods and Curiosity

When we came to Narragansett Bay, the people there greeted us with kindness. They brought us gifts of food and furs, and in turn we shared trinkets and tools of iron and glass. To them, these objects seemed strange and wondrous, just as their own crafts and ornaments appeared marvelous to us. Through gesture and sign, we found ways to trade, and for a time, our worlds touched in peace and mutual curiosity.

Misunderstandings and Caution

Yet not all meetings were without tension. At times, we approached too quickly or without respect, and our presence caused fear. In one instance, when we tried to take a closer look at their canoes and homes, they withdrew in alarm, unsure of our intentions. I realized then how easily trust could be broken between peoples who knew nothing of each other’s ways. What seemed natural to us might have appeared threatening to them.

Reflections on These Encounters

These first contacts left a lasting impression upon me. I saw in the peoples of the Atlantic coast both friendship and caution, openness and suspicion. They were not subjects to be conquered lightly, but nations with their own strength and dignity. Though I returned to France with reports of strange new lands, I carried also the memory of those encounters, which revealed not only the promise of discovery but also the fragile bonds between cultures divided by oceans.

My Name is Jean Ango: Merchant and Shipowner of Dieppe

I was born in 1480 in the bustling port town of Dieppe, France. The sea was the lifeblood of my family and my community, and from a young age I was surrounded by sailors, merchants, and ships that carried goods to faraway lands. My father, a wealthy shipowner himself, gave me both the fortune and the knowledge to continue in his trade.

Building My Maritime Empire

When I inherited my father’s fleet, I saw the opportunity to expand beyond simple trade. I invested heavily in ships, captains, and bold voyages, building one of the most powerful private fleets in France. My ships crossed the seas carrying goods, but also pursued bolder missions, sometimes blurring the line between commerce and privateering.

Service to King Francis I

My wealth and fleet brought me into the service of King Francis I. He needed strong men to challenge Spain and Portugal on the seas, and I was eager to rise to the occasion. I provided ships for explorers and supported expeditions that stretched French influence far beyond our shores. Giovanni da Verrazzano’s famous voyage to the coast of North America in 1524 sailed with my backing.

Trade and Privateering

I was not only a supporter of exploration but also a master of profit. I built fortunes through trade with distant lands, but I also sanctioned privateering against Spain and Portugal, seizing ships and wealth that enriched both myself and the crown. Some called me a pirate, but I considered myself a servant of France and its ambitions.

Challenges and Rivalries

Wealth and power always come with enemies. The Spanish and Portuguese despised me, and even within France rivals sought to cut me down. There were times when my fortunes were threatened by storms, losses at sea, and political struggles. Yet I held my place through determination and the strength of my fleet.

My Later Years

As I grew older, my power in Dieppe remained, but the world around me changed. Kings and courts shifted, and fortunes could rise and fall quickly. By the time of my death in 1551, I had lived a life that tied me to France’s first great efforts in the Age of Exploration.

My Legacy

I was not a king or a noble, but a merchant whose ships carried the hopes of France across the ocean. Explorers like Verrazzano owed their voyages to men like me who risked fortunes on uncertain seas. My name may not be as widely remembered, but my role in launching France into the race for the New World is woven into history.

The Role of French Merchants in Exploration – Told by Jean Ango

When men speak of voyages across the ocean, they often remember kings and explorers. Yet behind every ship and every sail there were merchants like myself, men who risked fortunes to make such ventures possible. The crown offered vision, but it was we who turned that vision into fleets, outfitted with wood, iron, and men. Without the backing of merchants, many voyages would never have left the harbors of France.

Outfitting the Ships

To send a ship across the Atlantic was no simple matter. The vessel had to be built strong, stocked with food, weapons, and trade goods, and manned by a crew both skilled and daring. Every nail, every barrel, every rope came at a cost. It was merchants who gathered these resources, spending from our own purses in hope of greater reward. We bore the weight of the gamble, knowing that storms, mutiny, or enemy fleets could sink both ship and fortune.

The Promise of Profits

Why would a man risk so much? The answer lay in the promise of wealth. The New World whispered of gold, silver, and furs, and even the chance of a new passage to the riches of Asia. For those of us in Dieppe, Rouen, and other great ports, the lure was irresistible. If one ship returned full of treasure, it could repay a dozen failed ventures. Such was the dangerous balance of trade and exploration.

Partnership with the Crown

Our ambitions were not separate from the king’s. Men like me worked in partnership with Francis I, who sought glory for France as much as riches. He gave royal blessing, but it was my fleet and the fortune I provided that carried Giovanni da Verrazzano across the Atlantic. This partnership between crown and merchant was the true engine of exploration. One offered power and authority, the other risk and investment.

Legacy of Merchant Support

Though I lived as a merchant and not a noble, I know that my role was vital in shaping France’s ambitions overseas. Merchants brought courage of a different kind—not on the battlefield, but in the counting house, the shipyard, and the open sea of commerce. We opened the way for France’s explorers, and in doing so, we claimed our place in history beside the captains and kings.

The Importance of Alliances with Indigenous Nations – Told by Chief Tessouat

I was born among the Kichesipirini people, keepers of the great Ottawa River. This river was the path of trade and travel for many nations, and with it came both wealth and conflict. No people could stand alone, for enemies surrounded us and dangers were constant. To survive, we needed allies who could bring us warriors in battle, food in famine, and goods to trade. Alliances were not a choice; they were the foundation of our strength.

Survival Through Unity

The winters were harsh, the hunts uncertain, and raids from rivals never ceased. By joining with other nations, we shared burdens and protected each other. A leader who could forge strong bonds kept his people alive, while one who stood apart risked their ruin. I learned early that diplomacy was as powerful as the bow, and friendship as valuable as iron.

Trade as the Lifeblood of Alliances

Our lives were tied to trade. Along the river passed furs, corn, tools, and weapons, exchanged from one nation to another. With trade came respect, for no one could prosper without the others. As chief, I demanded tolls and gifts from those who passed through our waters, strengthening our authority and reminding others that alliances required balance. Through these exchanges, bonds were formed that went beyond simple trade—they became the roots of lasting partnerships.

The Arrival of the French

When the French came, they too sought alliances. They brought iron, guns, and cloth, things that quickly became part of our world. Yet they also depended on us, for without our food, our guides, and our friendship, they would not have survived long in this land. I shaped these ties carefully, ensuring that the French needed us as much as we needed them. In this way, leaders like me kept our people strong even as new powers entered our world.

Shaping the Balance of Power

With the French as allies, the balance shifted in our struggles with the Iroquois and others. Their weapons gave us strength, but I never forgot that alliances could turn as swiftly as the river’s current. My task was to keep control, to ensure that my people remained at the center of these relationships, not pawns in the games of foreigners. By choosing wisely whom to ally with, we shaped the course of wars and trade alike.

A Lasting Legacy of Diplomacy

The alliances forged in my time became the pattern of relations between Indigenous nations and Europeans. Without us, France would never have gained a foothold in the New World. We were not silent partners but equal players, shaping the destiny of our lands. My legacy is not only of war and trade but of diplomacy, which gave my people strength in a time of great change.

My Name is Chief Tessouat: Leader of the Kichesipirini Algonquin

I was born into the Kichesipirini people, who lived along the great Kichi Sibi, the river you now call the Ottawa. This river was our lifeline, flowing with trade, food, and travel. As I grew, I learned the ways of hunting, fishing, and leading my people through both peace and hardship. The river was not just water to us—it was our strength and our power.

Rising as a Leader

By skill in diplomacy and the respect of my warriors, I rose to become chief of my people. Leadership meant more than guiding in war. It meant securing alliances, protecting trade, and ensuring that our families had what they needed to survive the harsh winters. I earned a reputation for being strong-willed and determined, a man who would not easily bend to others.

Encounter with the French

When the French arrived in the early 1600s, they sought furs, allies, and pathways deeper into our lands. I saw in them both opportunity and danger. Trade with them brought metal goods, tools, and weapons that changed the balance of power among nations. Yet I also knew they would demand more than they gave. It was my task to guard the interests of my people while dealing with these newcomers.

Defender of the River Trade

Our land along the Ottawa River was vital for trade routes, and I became known for controlling who could pass. At times, I demanded tolls from those who traveled through our waters. This gave us strength but also created rivals among neighboring nations. Still, I believed it was necessary to secure the wealth and survival of the Kichesipirini.

Alliances and Rivalries

The French looked to us for alliances, especially against the Iroquois. I weighed these relationships carefully, for I knew too close a tie to any foreign power could bring ruin. Some saw me as stubborn because I resisted French attempts to control us, but I valued the independence of my people above all.

The Struggles of My Later Years

As years passed, conflicts grew stronger. The Iroquois threatened from the south, while European diseases struck our people with terrible loss. Trade brought wealth but also fueled wars. I remained a leader until my death in 1636, always striving to protect my people in a time of great change.

My Legacy

I was remembered as a powerful chief who stood firm in defense of his people and their river. Though the world shifted around us with the arrival of Europeans, I sought to keep the Kichesipirini strong and independent. My story is one of struggle, pride, and resilience during a time when nations and cultures met on the edge of a new world.

The Importance of Alliances with Indigenous Nations – Told by Chief Tessouat

I was born among the Kichesipirini, who lived along the great Kichi Sibi, the river you call the Ottawa. This river was the heart of trade and travel, connecting many nations across vast lands. To survive and prosper, no people could live alone. We relied on bonds of friendship, on shared trade, and on warriors who could defend the path of the river. Alliances were the lifeblood of our strength.

Why Alliances Were Essential

The world we lived in was one of shifting rivalries. Enemies pressed from the south, disease and hardship tested us from within, and later, new arrivals came from across the sea. No single nation could face these challenges without the support of others. Alliances gave us food in times of hunger, warriors in times of war, and trade that enriched our people. A leader without allies was a leader soon forgotten.

The Role of Trade in Alliances

Furs, tools, weapons, and food all moved along the river routes. Control of trade meant power, but it also meant responsibility. To keep trade flowing, I demanded tolls and respect from those who passed through our lands. In this way, I strengthened my people and made sure that others recognized our authority. Trade bound us to our neighbors, and it was often the first thread of an alliance.

The Arrival of the French

When the French came, they brought iron, cloth, and guns, things unlike any we had known. At first, we viewed them with caution, but we soon understood that they too sought allies. They needed guides, food, and safe passage, just as we sought goods and partners against our enemies. Leaders like myself shaped these relationships carefully, never giving too much, but taking what was needed to keep our people strong.

Shaping the Balance of Power

Our alliances with the French shifted the balance in our struggles with other nations, especially the Iroquois. By trading with them, we gained weapons and goods that gave us an advantage. Yet I always knew these alliances were not born of friendship alone—they were tools of survival and power. It was my duty to ensure that these bonds served my people first.

A Legacy of Diplomacy

The alliances we forged in my time laid the foundation for future generations. The French would not have survived in these lands without the support of nations like mine. We taught them the ways of the rivers and forests, and they gave us tools that reshaped our world. In the meeting of peoples, it was not the Europeans alone who held power—it was also the chiefs and leaders who understood the importance of alliances.

The Search for a Passage to Asia – Told by Giovanni da Verrazzano

When I sailed under the banner of King Francis I, my greatest hope was to discover a passage to Asia across the Atlantic. Europe hungered for spices, silks, and the riches of the East, and every nation dreamed of finding a shorter path than the long voyage around Africa. Spain had found new lands across the ocean, but no clear route to Asia. I believed that France might be the one to uncover it.

Exploring the Coasts

As I moved north along the coast of the New World, I studied the land carefully, always searching for signs of an opening. Each bay and river we entered brought the possibility that it might be the gateway to another sea. We mapped carefully, noting where the land curved and stretched, and where water seemed to lead inland toward unknown regions. My eyes sought not just discovery, but confirmation of the dream of a passage.

The Outer Banks Misinterpretation

When we reached the Outer Banks of what is now North Carolina, the geography played a trick upon us. From the deck of my ship, it appeared as though a great sea lay just beyond the narrow land. I believed it might be the strait that would open the way to Asia. In truth, it was only a shallow sound behind a thin strip of land, but the illusion was strong enough to carry hope back to Europe. For years, maps bore the mark of this imagined passage, a testament to both our eagerness and our uncertainty.

The Persistence of the Quest

Even after reaching Newfoundland, I knew the true passage had not been found, but I did not abandon the belief that it existed. Others after me would continue to search, following rivers and coastlines in hopes of reaching the riches of the East. Though I did not succeed in finding Asia, I opened a door for France to the New World, and in that way, I believe I fulfilled part of my mission.

A Legacy of Hope and Error

My misinterpretation of the Outer Banks shows how easily explorers could be deceived by new lands. Yet it also shows the burning determination that drove us onward. The dream of a western passage inspired not just me but generations after me. While my voyage did not reveal the route to Asia, it laid the groundwork for France’s claims and ambitions in North America.

Rivalries with Spain and Portugal – Told by King Francis I of France

When I ascended the throne of France, I saw that much of the world had already been claimed by Spain and Portugal. By the authority of the Treaty of Tordesillas, they had drawn a line across the globe, granting themselves dominion over seas and lands yet unseen. This was done with the blessing of the Pope, but without the consent of other great kingdoms. To me, such a division was neither just nor binding, for France had as much right to the ocean as any crown in Europe.

Defiance of the Treaty

I made it clear that France would not be bound by agreements in which we had no part. We would not stand idle while others carved up the riches of the earth. My explorers and captains had my blessing to sail where they wished, to trade where they could, and to claim what they found. I believed that God had not created the seas for two kingdoms alone, and I would not allow Spain and Portugal to keep all others from the harvest of discovery.

Adam’s Will

It was in this spirit that I once remarked, half in jest and half in scorn, that I would like to see Adam’s will. If the world had truly been divided between Spain and Portugal, then let them show me the document by which Adam, the father of mankind, had left it to them. Until such proof was shown, I would consider their claims void. My words spread quickly, and they became a symbol of France’s defiance against the arrogance of our rivals.

A Struggle for Prestige and Power

The rivalry with Spain and Portugal was not only about wealth but about honor and influence. Their fleets returned with gold, silver, and spices, filling their treasuries and strengthening their power. If France did not act, our kingdom would fall behind in both riches and reputation. By sending men like Giovanni da Verrazzano across the Atlantic, I sought to challenge their monopoly and to bring France her rightful share of the new world.

The French Position in the Age of Exploration

Though we lacked the head start of our rivals, France’s ambition was no less. By refusing to recognize the Treaty of Tordesillas, we announced to the world that the seas were open to all who dared to cross them. Our rivalry with Spain and Portugal drove us forward, ensuring that France would take her place among the nations that reshaped the world.

The Geography of the New World – Told by Giovanni da Verrazzano

When I sailed along the coast of the New World in 1524, I carried not only the hopes of France but also the tools of a navigator determined to record what he saw. Each inlet, cape, and bay we passed was carefully noted. I knew that what I placed upon parchment would guide others after me, and that France’s claim to these lands would rest upon the maps I drew.

From Carolina to Newfoundland

Our voyage began along the warmer shores of what you now call the Carolinas. The coast stretched long and low, fringed with forests that seemed endless. As we traveled northward, the land revealed itself in new shapes and patterns. In New York Harbor, we discovered a grand opening of water, which I marked as a place of great promise. Further north in Narragansett Bay, the geography offered safe anchorage and fertile surroundings, which I noted as valuable for future settlement. Each turn of the shoreline was traced, building a picture of lands unknown to Europe.

Misreadings and Hopes

Not all that I mapped was true to its nature. At the Outer Banks, I believed I had found a strait leading to another sea, perhaps even the passage to Asia. Though this was an error, it showed how eager we were to find connections that might carry us farther. Still, the maps born from my work gave form to dreams that France would not abandon. Even with mistakes, they offered a foundation where none had existed before.

The Significance of My Maps

When I returned to France, I presented my records and charts to King Francis I. For the first time, a European monarch could see the outline of North America’s Atlantic coast. These maps gave weight to France’s ambitions, for what is claimed without proof is soon forgotten, but what is drawn and recorded lives on in the hands of kings and explorers.

A Lasting Legacy

Though I did not find Asia, the geography I charted gave France its first vision of North America. My maps became the foundation for later explorers, including Jacques Cartier, who followed the paths I revealed. They became the justification for France’s presence in lands across the ocean. In this way, the geography of the New World that I set down became not just lines upon a page but the beginning of an empire.

The Indigenous Perspective on French Arrival – Told by Chief Tessouat

When the French first came to our lands, they arrived as shadows across the horizon, their great wooden canoes unlike anything we had ever seen. At first, we watched them with caution, for we did not know their hearts or their purpose. Were they friends seeking trade, or invaders seeking land? In those early days, every step they took and every gesture they made was weighed with suspicion and curiosity.

The Promise of Trade

Quickly, we discovered that these newcomers desired what we already had—our furs, our food, and our knowledge of the rivers and forests. In return, they offered iron tools, weapons, cloth, and beads. To us, these things were wondrous, changing how we hunted, built, and fought. Trade became a bridge between our worlds, and for a time, it seemed as though the French were partners who could help us grow strong against our rivals.

New Opportunities, New Dangers

Yet with the gifts came dangers. The weapons we received gave us power in war, but they also deepened rivalries with nations like the Iroquois. The cloth and iron we grew to depend upon tied us to the French, making their presence part of our survival. What we gained in strength, we risked in independence, for each trade bound us closer to people whose ambitions we did not yet fully understand.

The Looming Shadow of Colonization

I saw clearly that the French were not content to trade alone. They built posts, sent priests, and spoke of lands as though they could claim them. To us, the earth was not a possession but a gift shared among all living things. Their ways threatened to change this balance, for they thought in terms of ownership and power, not kinship and duty. I knew then that their arrival was not a passing event but the beginning of something far greater, something that would test the strength of our people.

Our Place in the Changing World

The arrival of the French was both a chance and a challenge. They gave us tools that shaped our daily lives, but they also brought diseases that struck down many of our families. They came as allies in war, yet their presence threatened to bring new struggles to our lands. As a leader, I sought always to guard the independence of my people, to take what was useful but resist what would weaken us. For in the meeting of our worlds, survival depended on wisdom as much as strength.

The Treaty of Tordesillas and the Legitimacy of Claims – Told by King Francis I

When I came to power, I found that Spain and Portugal had already decided to divide the world between them. By the Treaty of Tordesillas, signed in 1494, they drew a line across the globe with papal blessing, claiming that everything on one side belonged to Portugal and everything on the other to Spain. France had no voice in this agreement, and yet they expected us to honor it. I could not accept such arrogance, for it denied my kingdom its rightful place in the world.

France’s Defiance

I made it clear that France would never recognize the treaty. I reminded Spain and Portugal that no man had the authority to give away the seas, not even the Pope himself. My captains and explorers would sail wherever the wind and opportunity carried them. The world was vast, and no two nations could claim it all. Our defiance was not only a matter of principle but of survival, for without it, France would be left with nothing while our rivals grew rich.

The Famous Question

It was during these disputes that I asked the question which many still recall: “I should like to see Adam’s will.” If Spain and Portugal truly claimed that the earth was theirs alone, then let them show the document by which the first man had bequeathed it to them. Until such a will was found, France would continue to sail, explore, and claim lands of her own. This remark became a symbol of my rejection of the treaty’s authority.

Tension and Near-Conflict

Our refusal to accept the treaty angered both Spain and Portugal, and it brought us close to conflict. Their fleets patrolled the seas, and they viewed every French ship as a trespasser. My decision placed our sailors and merchants in danger, but it also gave them the freedom to seize opportunities where they found them. France’s honor demanded nothing less than resistance to the unjust monopoly of our rivals.

The Legitimacy of Our Claims

Though the treaty was recognized by Spain, Portugal, and the Church, France carved its legitimacy through action. By sending Giovanni da Verrazzano across the Atlantic and supporting merchants like Jean Ango, we showed the world that our presence was real and undeniable. Legitimacy, I believed, did not come from words on parchment but from the courage to act and the power to defend what was claimed. In this way, France staked her place in the great contest for the New World.

The Problem of False Geography – Told by Giovanni da Verrazzano

As I sailed along the coast of what you now call the Carolinas in 1524, I studied the land with a navigator’s eye, always searching for signs of a passage to Asia. When we reached the Outer Banks, I looked across the thin strip of land and believed I saw a vast expanse of water beyond it. To me, it seemed certain that this was no mere bay or sound but the opening to a great sea, a possible strait that might lead us westward to the riches of Asia.

Hope and Misinterpretation

At sea, hope can cloud even the most careful observation. We so dearly wished for a direct passage to Asia that any sign of open water seemed proof of its existence. I recorded what I believed to be true, convinced that the geography revealed itself as a narrow land with another ocean just beyond. It was a mistake, born not of deceit but of longing for discovery and the limits of what one could see from a ship’s deck.

The Sea of Verrazzano

My report of this supposed inland sea was accepted by many cartographers in Europe. For decades, maps carried the mark of what came to be called the “Sea of Verrazzano.” These maps showed a great body of water stretching behind the coast, connected to the Pacific by some imagined passage. My error misled sailors and scholars, shaping how Europe thought of the New World long after my voyage was done.

The Cost of Error

Though my journey opened the coast of North America to France, this mistake revealed the dangers of exploration. A single misjudgment could alter maps and ambitions for generations. Sailors might waste time searching for passages that did not exist, and kings might invest in hopes that would never be fulfilled. Yet such was the price of venturing into lands unknown, where certainty was as rare as gold.

A Legacy Mixed with Truth and Error

In time, others corrected my mistake, proving that no inland sea lay behind the Outer Banks. Still, my voyage remained the first to map the coastline in detail, even if parts of it were flawed. The Sea of Verrazzano became both a lesson and a warning: that discovery carries not only triumph but also error, and that even mistakes can leave their mark on history.

Piracy and Privateering – Told by Jean Ango

I was a merchant of Dieppe, but I was also more than that. My ships carried goods for trade, but they also carried cannon. In an age when the seas were ruled by Spain and Portugal, France could not compete by peaceful commerce alone. To challenge their monopoly, we turned to privateering, sanctioned by our king but condemned by our rivals as piracy. It was a fine line, and I walked it with purpose.

Sanctioned by the Crown

When Francis I wished to weaken his enemies, he gave men like me authority to strike their fleets. With letters of marque, I armed my ships and sent them to prey upon Spanish and Portuguese vessels. These raids brought wealth to France, filled my coffers, and reminded our rivals that their hold on the seas was not unchallenged. Though they called us thieves, we considered ourselves warriors for our kingdom’s honor.

The Spoils of the Sea

From captured ships came gold, silver, spices, and treasures bound for Iberian ports. Each prize brought profit not only for me but for the crown, which received its share. These spoils funded further voyages, including expeditions like Verrazzano’s, and made possible France’s push into the New World. Yet with every victory at sea came greater hatred from Spain and Portugal, whose captains called us pirates and swore vengeance.

The Controversy of Piracy

To some, what we did was dishonorable. They said merchants should trade, not raid, and that our actions blurred the line between commerce and crime. But I say this: the seas were not fairly shared. Spain and Portugal claimed them as their own, and without force, France would have had no place. Our privateering was not lawless theft but necessary defiance, though it wore the same face as piracy in the eyes of those we robbed.

A Legacy of Power and Conflict

My name, Jean Ango, is remembered not only as a patron of exploration but as a master of privateering. I built an empire upon trade and upon seizing the riches of our enemies. This controversy will forever cling to my legacy, yet it was through such acts that France carved her path into the age of discovery. Without privateers, there would have been fewer ships, fewer voyages, and perhaps no French claim in the New World at all.

The Question of Legitimacy in Claiming Lands – Told by Chief Tessouat

Long before the arrival of the French or the Spanish, the rivers, forests, and hunting grounds were ours. The Kichesipirini people lived along the great Ottawa River, and we shared bonds of trade, kinship, and conflict with neighboring nations. The land was not empty; it was alive with our villages, our spirits, and our ancestors. We needed no parchment or treaty to prove what was already known.

The Claims of the Europeans

When the French came, they spoke as though the land could be divided and owned. They drew lines on maps, made declarations to their kings, and claimed places they had only just seen. To us, these claims had no meaning, for they ignored the people who already lived here. The rivers did not belong to one nation, and no stranger had the right to say otherwise. Their words of discovery were empty, for there was nothing new about the land we had walked for generations.

The Absence of Consent

Never did the French ask if they might claim our lands. At times, they asked for trade, or for safe passage, or for alliances, but their maps carried no mention of our permission. Their priests and captains spoke of sovereignty as though it were theirs to give or take, and in this way, they denied our authority. I made it clear that passage along our river required tolls and respect, yet even then, they looked beyond us toward their own ambitions.

The Controversy of Ownership

This was the great difference between our worlds. To us, land was not something to be bought or sold, but something entrusted to us by the Creator. To the French, land was a possession, a prize to be claimed for their king. Their idea of ownership clashed with our understanding of stewardship. This created tension, for they could not see the legitimacy of our sovereignty, and we could not accept the arrogance of their claims.

The Struggle for Recognition

I stood firm in defense of my people’s rights, demanding respect for our control of the Ottawa. In time, the French would learn that they could not simply plant their flags without our cooperation. Their ambitions needed our alliances, and it was through such negotiations that we forced them to recognize, in part, our power. Yet the question of legitimacy remained, for they always saw themselves as rulers of lands they did not own.

A Warning for the Future

The claims of the French and other Europeans were the beginning of greater troubles. Their maps and treaties erased our presence, and their kings imagined dominion where none existed. I saw clearly that if their ways prevailed, our sovereignty would always be threatened. The question of legitimacy is not only of my time—it remains a wound that began with their arrival and has never fully healed.

The Legacy of Verrazzano’s Voyage – Told by Jean Ango

When I entrusted ships and resources to Giovanni da Verrazzano, I did so with the hope of wealth and the vision of expanding France’s place upon the seas. Though he did not return with gold or spices, what he brought back was of greater value than many understood at the time. His voyage yielded knowledge, maps, and experience that would guide future French ambitions in the New World.

The Maps That Changed Perception

Verrazzano’s careful charting of the coast from Carolina to Newfoundland gave France its first clear image of lands across the Atlantic. These maps revealed harbors, rivers, and fertile shores that could one day support trade and settlement. They showed that France too had a claim to stake in these vast territories, standing alongside Spain and Portugal in discovery. For a merchant, such maps were promises of future opportunities—harbors to trade in, rivers to follow, and lands to profit from.

Reports to the Crown

The letters and reports Verrazzano carried back to King Francis I stirred the imagination of the court. They spoke of rich forests, generous lands, and peoples with whom trade was possible. Though no strait to Asia was found, his accounts confirmed that the New World was not an obstacle but an opportunity. These writings gave weight to further investment and assured the king that exploration was not a wasted venture.

The Path for Future Voyages

It was upon the foundation of Verrazzano’s work that Jacques Cartier would later sail. His voyages up the St. Lawrence were made possible by the knowledge of coastlines already traced. The belief that France had a rightful claim in these lands was strengthened by Verrazzano’s discoveries, giving merchants like myself reason to continue risking ships and fortunes in the pursuit of greater gain.

A Legacy Beyond Treasure

Verrazzano did not return with overflowing holds of gold or silver, yet the true treasure of his journey was the vision of what lay ahead. His maps and reports opened a door for France, one that others would step through in time. As a merchant, I saw in his voyage the beginnings of an empire, and though his own life ended tragically in the Caribbean, his legacy endured in every French ship that followed his path across the ocean.