The Island of Seven Cities: Where the Chinese Settled When They Discovered North America [Hardcover]

Wow. If you haven’t read this book, and haven’t yet heard of the astonishing theory it proposes, you should head right now to your local bookstore and buy it. This may be one of the most important books you’ll read all year. It may become one of those things that, after the fact, you’ll wish you had read when the buzz was on. What is certain is that you are bound to be hearing about it, and its companion text by Gavin Menzies, for a long time.
The theory is this: the author, Paul Chiasson, claims to have discovered the ruins of an early 15th-century Chinese city on Cape Breton Island. Early 15th century: that’s before Jacques Cartier; before John Cabot; before Columbus; indeed, before any European accounts of visiting the New World. The other key word here is city. Chiasson is not claiming to have discovered a small settlement comparable to the Viking village at L’Anse aux Meadows in Newfoundland. Nor are these the remains of habitations built by a group of shipwrecked sailors. The ruins are of a massive scale: a walled city with extended road networks, aqueducts, canals, burial grounds, farmlands, and smelting operations. The site, he attests, would have been home to at least one hundred, if not a thousand, people.
It all begins in the summer of 2001 when Chiasson, at home in Sydney visiting his family, happens to read a book by a local historian that mentions some ruins on the finger of land dividing St. Ann’s Bay and the entrance to the Bras d’Or Lakes, an area known as Cape Dauphin. Curious because he can find no further reference to these ruins in any other book on Cape Breton history, Chiasson, back in Sydney for a family reunion in 2002, decides to take a stroll up Cape Dauphin. On his way up the slope, he stumbles upon the remains of what is obviously an ancient road. Much of it is overgrown, but Chiasson, who is trained as an historical architect, recognises the telltale sign of cut stones bordering the edges of portions of the roadway. Convinced that the ruins must be the remnant of a French settlement, though puzzled when he can find no reference to the site in any of the historical documents he consults, Chiasson sets out on his quest. What follows is a kind of detective story, as he makes his way through reams of exploration narratives and ancient maps in search of anything that mentions Cape Breton Island.
The story is gripping, and Chiasson makes an astounding discovery. Ancient European explorers’ tales tell of the fabled “Island of Seven Cities”, an idyllic land situated somewhere in the Atlantic that is rumoured to have a sophisticated civilization and sands laced with gold. Tales of the island relate stories of fishermen who were blown off course and encountered a populous city with an immense library. None of the accounts agrees on where the island is located. Maps from the early 1400s show the island in various locations. Sometimes it appears in the Caribbean, sometimes further north. European accounts contain many references to the fabled isle. Columbus had heard of it. John Cabot claimed to have found it. One of Chiasson’s most striking discoveries is in one of Columbus’s maps from 1490. On it is clearly marked the Island of Seven Cities. What is remarkable, however, is that Columbus’s detailed representation of the island mimics the distinctive shape of Cape Breton with its immense inland lake system (the Bras d’Or lakes). The second arrow in Chiasson’s historical bow is Cabot’s claim not only to have located the island, but also to have charted its latitude. His measurements place it in the exact location of Cape Breton Island.
Chiasson’s investigations, much to his confusion, place him solidly in the period before the European discovery of the Americas. The settlement, he quickly realises, cannot possibly be French. Indeed, with Columbus’s map he has proof that Cape Breton had been surveyed and mapped well before any Europeans had visited it. An enigmatic piece in the puzzle are the local Mi’kmaq legends of the area. Chiasson decides that they bear investigation, and so begins an extensive exploration of Mi’kmaq legends and customs. The Mi’kmaq have a famous mythical hero named Kluscap, who they claim arrived over the seas and taught them many things, such as how to navigate by the stars and how to read and write. Kluscap also predicted the coming of the Europeans. As Chiasson probes further, he notices that Mi’kmaq clothing bears an astonishing resemblance to traditional Chinese dress (his photographs are very convincing); that Mi’kmaq script (and they are the only North American aboriginal group to have had a written language) resembles Chinese characters; that Mi’kmaq geometrical designs echo Chinese patterns. What is more, the traditional abode of Kluscap is . . . where else? Cape Dauphin.
The magnitude of his find slowly dawns on him. Although early accounts refer to the Island of Seven Cities as “La Tarterie” or “the region of the Chinese,” what clinches the discovery for Chiasson is the simultaneous work undertaken by British mariner and writer Gavin Menzies. In 2002, Menzies published his stunning book 1421: The Year China Discovered the World. In it, Chiasson finds confirmation of his thesis. Menzies proves that by the late 14th century China had the naval capacity and inclination to conduct extensive world explorations well before Europeans were equipped to undertake such voyages. In the early 1400s, under the leadership of naval commander Zheng He, China was sending out flotillas of ships with the mission to explore and undertake trade with distant lands. According to Menzies, at this period of history, China “controlled the seas.” An 18th-century Chinese map that purports to be a reproduction of a 1418 image represents the globe with all the major continents intact. While the authenticity of this map is in question, it is true that the Chinese at this time were sophisticated cartographers and seafarers who had already mapped the coasts of Africa. Menzies’ thesis about the Chinese “discovery” of America has been met by some scepticism in the academic world. What is not debatable, however, is the capability of the Chinese to carry out extensive world exploration during this period. When Chiasson returns to Cape Dauphin in 2005 with Menzies and Cedric Bell, an archaeologist specializing in Chinese ruins, they determine the authenticity of the site as 15th-century Chinese.
The end of the narrative leaves open a few questions. How was it that this important settlement came to be so thoroughly obscured in subsequent historical records? One possibility is the great purge in mid-15th century China, which enforced a period of extreme isolationism and ordered the destruction en masse of historical documents and archives related to world exploration. Another loose thread is the reference to “seven” cities. Chiasson makes preliminary investigations, and begins to uncover references to ruins in others spots on Cape Breton, sites that match the location of the cities marked on those early 15th-century maps. One also wonders about the Cape Dauphin site itself. Why are there no artifacts uncovered? And what about those Ming Dynasty tombs which he claims are up there? Are these to be exhumed in the near future and the entire site subjected to archeological analysis? One can only think that this is merely the first step in the unravelling of the mystery of Cape Dauphin. Chiasson seems to be setting himself up for a sequel. He has been invited to apply for a heritage permit to conduct further studies on the site. What complicates all of this, however, is another narrative that runs alongside the detective story: the account of Chiasson’s grim battle with AIDS, which is gradually limiting his physical mobility even as he subjects himself to more drug cocktails and steels himself for yet another climb up the Cape Dauphin point. I hope to read the sequel to this narrative, and I hope it will be written by him.
There has always been something of a gap in histories of the “discovery” of North America. The Vikings established their settlement in Newfoundland around 1000 CE. After that, there is a curious void of about 500 years, until Europeans begin recording their encounters with the Eastern coast. If Chiasson is right, the narrative of Canada’s ‘beginnings’ will need to undergo radical revision. The Canadian Museum of Civilization’s Canada Hall exhibit will have to be revamped, for a start. As it exists now, it begins with the Viking Leif the Lucky, who led a group of Norsemen to North America, and jumps to the Italian and French explorers of the 15th century. Canadians will also have to adjust their notion of the ‘white’ origins (and, by implication, white priority) of non-aboriginal settlement in the continent. Indeed, Chiasson marvels at the arrogance of Western history, which has so extensively ignored parallel developments in the East. We will also need to consider what the Mi’kmaq records suggest: that the Chinese settlers were able to cohabit peacefully with Native peoples, something at which the Vikings spectacularly failed, as did the British and French in their numerous dealings with aboriginal peoples. Chiasson claims that his discovery will “give world history a little shake.” Canadian history will certainly never be written in the same way again.
Cynthia Sugars (Books in Canada)

“If it is true, the find would rank among the greatest archeological discoveries of all time, [and] turn much of modern history upside down.”
—National Post

“The book stands as a fascinating piece of historical detective work. Essential for readers of 1421, whatever their beliefs, and for lay readers in general.”
—Library Journal (starred review)

“Riveting, beautifully written, powerful and compelling.”
—Gavin Menzies, author of 1421: The Year China Discovered America

“Each of Chiasson’s discoveries is absurdly exciting.”
—Calgary Herald


From the Trade Paperback edition.