Jacques Cartier and France’s Atlantic Horizons by Elvira Viktória Tamus

Today’s special episode is by Elvira Viktória Tamus. Tamus is a PhD Candidate at the Faculty of History, University of Cambridge. Her doctoral research examines the actors of early sixteenth-century Franco-Hungarian diplomacy within the wider context of European geopolitics and great power relations. She holds a BA in History and French from the University of Leicester and an MA in History from Leiden University. Elvira is also the Course Coordinator of the Global History Lab and has previously worked as a Research Assistant at the Centre for Geopolitics (both based at Cambridge). Today she talks about explorer Jacques Cartier’s voyages and their relation to France’s greater geostrategic aims.

Introduction:

In the early sixteenth century, France faced complex political, military, and economic pressures. Its main opponent was the House of Habsburg, which ruled Spain, the Low Countries, and much of Italy. Francis I of France (who reigned between 1515 and 1547) felt increasingly encircled by the Habsburgs, especially after Charles I of Spain was elected as Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in 1519. The exhausting rivalry between the two dynasties culminated in the Italian Wars – a long series of armed conflicts for dominion over the Italian peninsula.

The Mediterranean presented a multifaceted power arena. French ports at Marseille and Toulon offered access to Levantine trade, while the rise of Ottoman power opened diplomatic opportunities. Is the enemy of my enemy my friend? Indeed, the Ottoman Empire’s territorial expansion threatened the Habsburgs on two fronts: on land in East Central Europe and on sea in the Mediterranean.

Nonetheless, Francis first attempted to forge alliances with the Christian monarchs who were interested in limiting Habsburg power. His envoys established agreements with the King of Poland in 1524 and the King of Hungary in 1528. However, the former coalition fell through due to Francis I’s defeat at the Battle of Pavia in early 1525 after which the French king was imprisoned for a year in Madrid; while John I of Hungary, facing a civil war in his own country with his Habsburg counter-king, did not prove to be a powerful political or military ally. Francis I conducted anti-Habsburg negotiations with the Protestant German princes in the Holy Roman Empire as well as Henry VIII of England who aimed to retain a balance of power in the continent.

In 1536, Francis I formed a coalition with Sultan Suleiman I, shocking many contemporaries. The Franco-Ottoman alliance allowed French merchants to trade across the eastern sea and gave Francis political leverage against Charles V. This alliance brought France mixed results. The costly wars from 1536 to 1538 and from 1542 to 1546 did not lead to a firm resolution or major territorial changes.

Amid these exhausting continental and Mediterranean struggles, an important question emerged: could France gain a foothold in the Atlantic world? My name is Elvira Viktória Tamus, and my PhD research at the University of Cambridge looks at Franco-Hungarian diplomatic relations in the first half of the sixteenth century. In today’s episode of The French History Podcast, I explore how France, despite wars, geopolitical concerns, and limited means, began charting a future in the Americas.

Background:

By the early sixteenth century, France’s Atlantic ports in Normandy, Brittany, and the Basque coast were lively hubs of trade and shipbuilding. The maritime expertise of France was rooted in the work of local fishermen and merchants in the ports of Saint-Malo, Dieppe, Honfleur, La Rochelle, and Bayonne.

Breton, Norman, and Basque crews routinely sailed to the rich cod banks off Newfoundland, returning with holds of salted fish that fed markets across Europe. Some ventured farther north to hunt whales or trade along distant coasts, sharpening navigational skills and testing ships against the Atlantic’s rough waters.

These seafarers operated against the backdrop of Iberian monopoly over the Atlantic Ocean. The 1494 Treaty of Tordesillas divided the newly discovered world into exclusive zones of exploration and influence between Spain and Portugal. The commercial crossings suggested that opportunities lay westwards, even if the French monarchy remained preoccupied with European issues.

Another important element of the story was new technology. New French vessels were built using improved charts and sea compasses. Long and difficult voyages were also made possible by caravels – small and agile sailing ships developed in Iberia. Information, too, travelled along the coasts: pilots who had served Spanish or Portuguese masters sold maps and rumours of rich islands or a northern route to Asia.

Francis I did not want to risk open conflict with the Iberian powers, but he did encourage private initiative, such as exploratory trips funded by merchants and Spanish ships laden with gold and other treasures raided by corsairs.

Jacques Cartier’s first voyage, 1534:

A major figure of westward French expansion in the sixteenth century was Jacques Cartier, a maritime explorer, born in 1491 in Saint-Malo, Brittany. He married an aristocratic woman and participated in commercial voyages to Newfoundland, before attracting the attention of Francis I. In 1534, amid the French-Habsburg rivalry and the French-Ottoman rapprochement, Cartier was commissioned to explore the New World.

            Cartier’s first trip set out in April 1534 – and here I quote from a collection of documents relating to his voyages – ‘with two ships of about sixty tons’ burden each’ and ‘sixty-one men’. After crossing the Atlantic ‘with fair weather’, he reached Newfoundland on 10 May, landing at Cape Bonavista. Cartier and his crew probed the Gulf of St. Lawrence, charting its intricate coastline, entering numerous bays and inlets. The explorer provided vivid descriptions of his encounter with land, nature, and people. He saw birds (I quote) ‘whose numbers are so great as to be incredible, unless one has seen them… and these birds are so fat that it is marvellous.’ These explorers planted crosses to signal possession – as Cartier writes in June: ‘… we came to a small, very deep passage with the land running south-west and with very high shores. It is a good harbour; and a cross was set up there, and it was named St. Servan’s harbour.’ Cartier’s account also offers insight into their initial contact with local communities, and here I quote again: ‘There are people in this coast whose bodies are fairly well formed but they are wild and savage folk… They clothe themselves with the furs of animals, both men and women; but the women are wrapped up more closely and snuggly in their furs… They paint themselves with certain tan colours.’ We also learn from these texts about how the Europeans named places. They reached a cape on 24 June in mist and bad weather; ‘and since it was St John’s day’, they named it Cape St John.

Meanwhile, Hayreddin Barbarossa, Suleiman Sultan’s admiral raided along the Habsburg-controlled Italian coast, and two months later, conquered Tunis from the Hafsid dynasty. Thus, a major anti-Habsburg power seized a strategic position, from where he had the chance to dominate the western Mediterranean. However, the imperial forces retook the city of Tunis from the Ottomans in June 1535.

The second Atlantic expedition in 1535–1536:

Cartier’s promising first trip encouraged Francis I to authorise a second expedition the following year. In May 1535, Cartier navigated the broad St. Lawrence River toward lands no European had yet mapped. He reached Stadacona (near modern Quebec) and continued to Hochelaga (in present-day Montréal), marvelling at the fertile valley. During this journey, Cartier heard local people refer to Stadacona as ‘kanata’ which meant ‘village’ or ‘settlement’. The French explorer adopted this word to describe the region – and this is how Canada was named.

The French also acquired information from indigenous people. For instance, Cartier wrote in August 1535 that they were told about the lands they were crossing by (I quote) ‘the two Indians whom we had captured on our first voyage… to Canada.’ Cartier hoped that the river would stretch to the Pacific Ocean. Before winter, he built a small fort near Stadacona.

Nevertheless, Cartier and his crew were facing very challenging conditions. Between November 1535 and April 1536, the area was so cold and frozen that the snow was (I quote) ‘higher than the bulwarks of our ships… with the result that all our beverages froze in their casks.’ Moreover, twenty-five of Cartier’s most able seamen succumbed to a disease – it was scurvy, caused by a prolonged deficiency of Vitamin C. The rest of the French explorers were rescued thanks to a remedy they learned from locals: as Cartier wrote (I quote) ‘we received knowledge of a tree which cured us and gave back health to all the sick; and the manner of using it… They showed us how to grind the bark and the leaves and to boil the whole in water. Of this one should drink every two days, and place the dregs on the legs where they were swollen and affected. According to them this tree cured every kind of disease. They call it in their language Annedda.’ This Anneda could have been white cedar, a tree indigenous to Quebec and rich in Vitamin C.

Cartier, unsurprisingly, also believed that the peoples of North America had much to learn from French civilisation. He wrote at the end of his second voyage that (I quote) ‘From what we have been able to learn of these people, I am of opinion that they could easily be moulded in the way one would wish.’

Cartier returned to France in May 1536, bringing vivid reports of a majestic river leading into the continent’s heart. To further impress his king, the explorer kidnapped Donnacona, the chief of Stadacona, and some other Iroquois men to France. For Francis I, still grappling with the Italian Wars, the prospect of a northern passage and new wealth was tempting yet difficult to pursue while armies consumed the treasury. That year, the King of France established his alliance with the Ottoman sultan, based on commercial agreements – an alliance that proved to be the most efficient French attempt to counterbalance Habsburg supremacy in Europe.

The third voyage, 1541–1542:

A third voyage in 1541–1542, this time involving the nobleman Jean-François de La Roque de Roberval, aimed to establish a permanent colony and exploit the precious metals Cartier believed lay upriver. Francis I commissioned Roberval as ‘lieutenant-general,’ authorising him to take possession of new lands, convert their inhabitants, (I quote) ‘through friendly means or amicable arrangements, if possible, and through force of arms, violence, and all other hostile means…’ Yet the commission also contained a revealing caveat: the French were to avoid territories already under the rule of Emperor Charles V or John III of Portugal, both of whom were formally Francis’s (I quote) ‘very dear and beloved brothers’. The language reveals the tension in French politics: bold in its New World ambitions, but wary of provoking the Iberian powers that dominated the Atlantic.

The expedition established a settlement at Charlesbourg-Royal. This first attempt at a colony promised access to riches, trade with Indigenous communities, and a strategic foothold in North America.

Yet the expedition quickly ran into serious challenges. Harsh winters, unfamiliar terrain, and scurvy took a heavy toll, while tensions with local Iroquoian communities strained attempts at cooperation. Moreover, the ‘gold’ Cartier hoped to discover in abundance proved to be nothing more than iron pyrite and quartz, a disappointment that undermined the explorers’ morale.

Meanwhile, back in France, royal attention and finances were focused on wars in Italy and the ongoing rivalry with the House of Habsburg. Sustaining distant settlements required ships, soldiers, and money – resources the crown could scarcely spare. In 1542, a new war broke out between Francis I and Charles V. A year later, the King of France and Suleiman the Magnificent jointly attacked Nice, which, at that time, was under the control of the Duke of Savoy, an ally of Charles V. The Franco-Ottoman forces succeeded in conquering parts of the city, but they were eventually defeated by the fleet of the imperial admiral, Andrea Doria. Under these circumstances, the Charlesbourg-Royal colony faltered, and by 1543, it had been abandoned by the French and went dormant for decades.

The Italian War of 1542–1546 ended inconclusively, and in 1547, Francis I of France died. The long series of Italian Wars concluded only in 1559 with the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, which brought mixed results for France. The first lasting French settlement in North America, Port-Royal, was founded in the early seventeenth century by Samuel de Champlain, and New France reached its territorial peak in the eighteenth century.

Conclusion – geopolitical stakes and strategy:

In conclusion, during the reign of Francis I, France’s Atlantic ventures were inseparable from its broader effort to counter Habsburg dominance. The empire of Charles V stretched from Spain, the Low Countries, and Italy, to the Americas and the transatlantic trade, giving his dynasty unmatched wealth and influence. Constrained in Europe, France viewed the Atlantic as one of the few arenas where it could act independently. Jacques Cartier’s explorations proved that France could project power beyond Europe, even without the means to maintain permanent colonies.

            Historian Alan Gordon examined the place of Jacques Cartier in Canadian collective memory. He showed how Cartier became an important national figure in Quebec, celebrated as the founder of New France – even though his three Atlantic voyages ended without lasting success, and he cannot be credited with developing modern Canada. Gordon argued that, in elevating Cartier to the status of historical icon, nineteenth-century French Canadians were also crafting a national identity for themselves. This so-called Cartiermania was promoted by Quebec’s middle-class nationalist intellectuals, yet it also resonated widely among ordinary people.

Atlantic ambitions were shaped by European realities. Wars in the ‘Old World’ drained resources, while the Franco-Ottoman alliance showed France’s willingness to forge strategic partnerships across confessional lines in order to counterbalance Habsburg power. Even failed colonial projects, such as Charlesbourg-Royal, yielded experience in navigation, shipbuilding, and administration – skills that would underpin seventeenth-century settlements in Canada, the Caribbean, West Africa, and India.

By 1600, France had not displaced Habsburg Spain in Europe or the Americas, yet it had tested its strength and defined new horizons. Through exploration, privateering, and cartography, France laid the groundwork for a global role. The Atlantic was a geopolitical theatre that prepared the Kingdom of France for its later ascent as a great power.