The French commander did not like what he saw.  He was not provisioned for a voyage around the world, and if these waters were the eastern entrance to a strait he might emerge upon a vast unknown ocean.  If on the other hand he was at the mouth of a river, to ascend it might result in being cut off by hostile savages, which would be most unpleasant.  A third consideration was that the inhabitants were said to live on fish, game, and berries, none of which could be secured, either peaceably or by fighting, in an enemy’s country.  Making hostages of seven young savages who climbed his bulwarks without any invitation, he put about and sailed away.  During the following year the seven wild men were exhibited at Rouen and elsewhere.

Aubert had made sure of one thing at least; the land to the west was not in the least like the rich islands which the Spanish held in the tropics.  Except in the brief season when the swarming cod filled the seines of the fishermen, it yielded no wealth, not even in slaves, for the fierce and shy natives would be almost uncatchable and quite impossible to tame.

Francis of Angouleme, the brilliant, reckless and extravagant young French King, was hard pushed to get money for his own Court, and was not interested in expeditions whose only result might be glory.  He jested over the threatening Spanish dominion as he did over everything else.  Italian dukedoms were overrun by troops from France, Spain, Austria and Switzerland, and Francis welcomed Italian artists, architects and poets to his capital.  When the plague attacked Paris he removed to one of the royal chateaux in the country or paid visits to great noblemen like his cousin Charles de Bourbon.  It was in 1522 at Moulins, the splendid country estate of the Duc de Bourbon, that the monarch met a captain of whom he had heard a great deal—­all of it gratifying.  He had in mind a new enterprise for this Verrazzano.

During the last seven or eight years Verrazzano, like many other captains, had been engaged in the peculiar kind of expedition dubbed piracy or privateering according to the person speaking.  France and Spain were neither exactly at peace nor openly at war.  The Florentine had gone out upon the high seas in command of a ship fitted out and armed at his own risk, and fought Spanish galleons wherever he met them.  This helped to embarrass the King of Spain in his wars abroad.  Galleons eastward bound were usually treasure-ships.  The colonial governors, planters, captains and common soldiers took all the gold they could get for themselves, and the gold, silver and pearls that went as tribute to the royal master in Spain had to run the gauntlet of these fierce and fearless sea-wolves.  The wealth of the Indies was really a possession of doubtful value.  It attracted pirates as honey draws flies.  When these pirates turned a part of their spoils over to kings who were not friendly to Spain, it was particularly exasperating.