The Mariner of St Malo

CHRONICLES OF CANADA
Edited by George M. Wrong and H. H. Langton
In thirty-two volumes
Volume 2
THE MARINER OF ST MALO
A Chronicle of the Voyages of Jacques Cartier
By STEPHEN LEACOCK
TORONTO, 1915
CHAPTER I
EARLY LIFE
In the town hall of the seaport of St Malo there hangs a portrait of
Jacques Cartier, the great sea-captain of that place, whose name is
associated for all time with the proud title of 'Discoverer of Canada.'
The picture is that of a bearded man in the prime of life, standing on the
deck of a ship, his bent elbow resting upon the gunwale, his chin
supported by his hand, while his eyes gaze outward upon the western
ocean as if seeking to penetrate its mysteries. The face is firm and
strong, with tight-set jaw, prominent brow, and the full, inquiring eye
of the man accustomed both to think and to act. The costume marks the
sea-captain of four centuries ago. A thick cloak, gathered by a belt at
the waist, enwraps the stalwart figure. On his head is the tufted Breton
cap familiar in the pictures of the days of the great navigators. At the
waist, on the left side, hangs a sword, and, on the right, close to the belt,
the dirk or poniard of the period.

How like or unlike the features of Cartier this picture in the town hall
may be, we have no means of telling. Painted probably in 1839, it has
hung there for more than seventy years, and the record of the earlier
prints or drawings from which its artist drew his inspiration no longer
survives. We know, indeed, that an ancient map of the eastern coast of
America, made some ten years after the first of Cartier's voyages, has
pictured upon it a group of figures that represent the landing of the
navigator and his followers among the Indians of Gaspe. It was the
fashion of the time to attempt by such decorations to make maps vivid.
Demons, deities, mythological figures and naked savages disported
themselves along the borders of the maps and helped to decorate
unexplored spaces of earth and ocean. Of this sort is the illustration on
the map in question. But it is generally agreed that we have no right to
identify Cartier with any of the figures in the scene, although the group
as a whole undoubtedly typifies his landing upon the seacoast of
Canada.
There is rumour, also, that the National Library at Paris contains an old
print of Cartier, who appears therein as a bearded man passing from the
prime of life to its decline. The head is slightly bowed with the weight
of years, and the face is wanting in that suggestion of unconquerable
will which is the dominating feature of the portrait of St Malo. This is
the picture that appears in the form of a medallion, or ring-shaped
illustration, in more than one of the modern works upon the great
adventurer. But here again we have no proofs of identity, for we know
nothing of the origin of the portrait.
Curiously enough an accidental discovery of recent years seems to
confirm in some degree the genuineness of the St Malo portrait. There
stood until the autumn of 1908, in the French-Canadian fishing village
of Cap-des-Rosiers, near the mouth of the St Lawrence, a house of very
ancient date. Precisely how old it was no one could say, but it was said
to be the oldest existing habitation of the settlement. Ravaged by
perhaps two centuries of wind and weather, the old house afforded but
little shelter against the boisterous gales and the bitter cold of the rude
climate of the Gulf. Its owner decided to tear it down, and in doing so
he stumbled upon a startling discovery. He found a dummy window

that, generations before, had evidently been built over and concealed.
From the cavity thus disclosed he drew forth a large wooden medallion,
about twenty inches across, with the portrait of a man carved in relief.
Here again are the tufted hat, the bearded face, and the features of the
picture of St Malo. On the back of the wood, the deeply graven initials
J. C. seemed to prove that the image which had lain hidden for
generations behind the woodwork of the old Canadian house is indeed
that of the great discoverer. Beside the initials is carved the date 1704..
This wooden medallion would appear to have once figured as the stern
shield of some French vessel, wrecked probably upon the Gaspe coast.
As it must have been made long before the St Malo portrait was painted,
the resemblance of the two faces perhaps indicates the existence of
some definite and genuine portrait of Jacques Cartier, of which the
record has been