PART the FIRST.
Departure from France——clearing the Straits of
Magalhaens.
CHAP. I.
Departure of the Boudeuse from Nantes; puts in at Brest; run from Brest to Montevideo; junction with the Spanish frigates, intended for taking possession of the Malouines, or Falkland’s islands.
In February 1764, France began to make a settlement on the Isles Malouines. |Object of the voyage.
1766, November.| Spain reclaimed these isles as belonging to the continent of South America; and her right to them having been acknowledged by the king, I received orders to deliver our settlement to the Spaniards, and to proceed to the East Indies by crossing the South Seas between the Tropics. For this expedition I received the command of the frigate la Boudeuse, of twenty-six twelve-pounders, and I was to be joined at the Malouines by the store-ship[[9]] l’Etoile, which was intended to bring me the provisions necessary for a voyage of such a length, and to follow me during the whole expedition. Several circumstances retarded the junction of this store-vessel, and consequently made my whole voyage near eight months longer than it would otherwise have been.
Departure from Nantes.
In the beginning of November, 1766, I went to Nantes, where the Boudeuse had just been built, and where M. Duclos Guyot, a captain of a fireship, my second officer, was fitting her out. The 5th of this month we came down from Painbeuf to Mindin, to finish the equipment of her; and on the 15th we sailed from this road for the river de la Plata. There I was to find the two Spanish frigates, called la Esmeralda and la Liebre, that had left Ferrol the 17th of October, and whose commander was ordered to receive the Isles Malouines, or Falkland’s islands, in the name of his Catholic majesty.
Squall of wind.
The 17th in the morning we suffered a sudden gust of wind from W. S. W. to N. W. it grew more violent in the night, which we passed under our bare poles, with our lower-yards[lower-yards] lowered, the clue of the fore-sail, under which we tried before, having been carried away. The 18th, at four in the morning, our fore-top-mast broke about the middle of its height; the main-top-mast resisted till eight o’clock, when it broke in the cap, and carried away the head of the main-mast. |Putting in at Brest.| This last event made it impossible for us to continue our voyage, and I determined to put into Brest, where we arrived the 21st of November.
This squall of wind, and the confusion it had occasioned, gave me room to make the following observations upon the state and qualities of the frigate which I commanded.
1. The prodigious tumbling home of her top-timbers, leaving too little opening to the angles which the shrouds make with the masts, the latter were not sufficiently supported.
2. The preceding fault became of more consequence by the nature of the ballast, which we had been obliged to take in, on account of the prodigious quantity of provisions we had stowed. Forty tuns of ballast, distributed on both sides of the kelson, and at a short distance from it, and a dozen twelve-pounders placed at the bottom of the pump-well (we had only fourteen upon deck) added a considerable weight, which being much below the center of gravity, and almost entirely rested upon the kelson, put the masts in danger, if there had been any rolling.
These reflections induced me to get the excessive height of our masts shortened, and to exchange the cannon, which were twelve-pounders, for eight-pounders. Besides the diminution of near twenty ton weight, both in the hold and upon deck, gained by exchanging the artillery, the narrow make of the frigate alone was sufficient to render it necessary. She wanted about two feet of the beam which such frigates have as are intended to carry twelve-pounders.
Notwithstanding these alterations, which I was allowed to make, I could not help observing that my ship was not fit for navigating in the seas round Cape Horn. I had found, during the squall of wind, that she made water from all her upper-works, which might expose part of my biscuit to be spoiled by the water getting into the store-rooms in bad weather; an inconvenience, the consequences of which we should not be able to remedy during the voyage. I therefore asked leave to send the Boudeuse back to France from the Falkland’s islands, under the command of the chevalier Bournand, lieutenant of a ship, and to continue the voyage with the store-ship l’Etoile alone, if the long winter nights should prevent my passing the Straits of Magalhaens[[10]]. I obtained this permission, and the 4th of December, our masts being repaired, the artillery exchanged, and the frigate entirely caulked in her upper-works, we went out of the port and anchored in the road, where we continued a whole day, in order to embark the powder, and to set up the shrouds.
December. Departure from Brest.
The 5th at noon we got under sail in the road of Brest. I was obliged to cut my cable, because the fresh east-wind and the ebb prevented my tacking about, as I was apprehensive of falling off too near the shore. I had eleven commissioned officers, and three volunteers; and the crew consisted of two hundred sailors, warrant-officers, soldiers, boys, and servants. The prince of Nassau-Sieghen had got leave from the king to go upon this expedition. At four o’clock in the afternoon, the middle of the isle of Ushant bore N. by E. and from thence I took my departure.
Description of the Salvages.
During the first days, we had the wind pretty constant from W. N. W. to W. S. W. and S.W., very fresh. The 17th, afternoon, we got sight of the Salvages; the 18th, of the Isle of Palma; and the 19th, of the Isle of Ferro. What is called the Salvages, is a little isle of about a league in extent from E. to W. it is low in the middle, and at each end a little hillock; a chain of rocks, some of which appear above water, extend to the westward about two leagues off the island; there are likewise some breakers on the east-side, but they are not far from the shore.
Error in the calculation of the course.
The sight of these rocks convinced us of a great error in our reckoning; but I would not make a computation before I had seen the Canaries, whose position is exactly determined. The sight of the Isle of Ferro gave me with certainty the correction which I was desirous to make. The 19th, at noon, I took the latitude, and comparing it with the bearings of the Isle of Ferro taken that same hour, I found a difference of four degrees and seven minutes, which I was more to the eastward, than by my reckoning. This error is frequent in crossing from Cape Finisterre to the Canaries, and I had found it on other voyages, as the currents opposite the straits of Gibraltar set to the eastward with great rapidity.
Position of the Salvages rectified.
I had, at the same time, an opportunity of remarking, that the Salvages are improperly placed on M. de Bellin’s Chart. Indeed, when we got sight of them the 17th, after noon, the longitude which their bearings gave us differed from our calculation by three degrees seventeen minutes to the eastward. However, this same difference appeared the 19th of four degrees seven minutes, by correcting our place, according to the bearings of the isle of Ferro, whose longitude has been determined by astronomical observations. It must be observed, that during the two days which passed between our getting sight of the Salvages and of Ferro, we sailed with a fair wind; and consequently there can be very little miscalculation in that part of the course. Besides, the 18th, we set the Isle of Palma, bearing S. W. by W. corrected; and, according to M. Bellin, it was to bear S. W. I concluded, from these two observations, that M. Bellin has placed the Isle of Salvages about 32′ more to the W. than it really is.
I therefore took a fresh departure the 19th of December at noon. We met with no remarkable occurrences on our voyage, till we came to the Rio de la Plata; our course furnished us only with the following observations, which may be interesting to navigators.
1767.
January.
Nautical observations.
1. The 6th and 7th of January 1767, being between 1° 40′ and 0° 38′ north latitude; and about 28° longitude, we saw many birds, which induced me to believe, that we were near the rock of Penedo San Pedro; though M. Bellin does not mark it on his chart.
Passing the line.
2. The 8th of January, in the afternoon, we passed the line between 27° and 28° of longitude.
Remark on the variations.
3. Since the 2nd of January we could no longer observe the variations; and I only reckoned them by the charts of William Mountain and James Obson. The 11th, at sun-set, we observed 3° 17′ of N. W. variation; and the 14th, in the morning, I observed again 10′ of N. W. variation with an azimuth-compass, the ship then being in 10° 30′ or 40′ S. latitude, and about 33° 20′ W. longitude, from Paris. Therefore it is certain, that, if my estimated longitude is exact, and I verified it as such at the land-fall[[11]], the line of no variation is still further advanced to the westward since the observation of Mountain and Obson; and it seems the progress of this line westward is pretty uniform. Indeed, upon the same degree of latitude, where Mountain and Obson found 12° or 13° of difference in the space of forty-four years, I have found a little more than 6° after an interval of 22 years. This progression deserves to be confirmed by a chain of observations. The discovery of the law by which these changes happen that are observed in the declination of the magnetic needle, besides furnishing us with a method of finding out the longitude at sea, might perhaps lead us to the causes of this variation, and perhaps even to that of the magnetic power.
Causes of the variations found in going to the Brasils.
4. About the line we have almost always observed very great variations on the north-side, though it is more common to observe them on the south-side. We had an opportunity of guessing at the cause of it, the 18th of January passing over a bank with young fish, which extended beyond the reach of our sight, from S. W. by[by] W. to N. E. by[by] E. upon a line of reddish white, about two fathoms broad. Our meeting with it, taught us that since some days the currents set in to the N. E. by[by] E. for all fish spawn upon the coasts, whence the currents detach the fry and carry them into the open sea. On observing these variations N. of which I have spoken, I did not infer from thence, that it was necessary there should be variations westward together with them; likewise the 29th of January, in the evening, when we saw land, I had calculated at noon that it was ten or twelve leagues off, which gave rise to the following observations.
It has long ago been a complaint among navigators, and still continues, that the charts, and especially those of M. Bellin, lay down the coasts of Brasil too much to the eastward. They ground this complaint upon their having got sight of these coasts in their several voyages, when they thought themselves at least eighty or a hundred leagues off. They add, that they have several times observed on these coasts, that the currents had carried them S. W. and they rather choose to tax the charts and astronomical observations as erroneous, than suspect their ships reckoning subject to mistakes.
Upon the like reasonings we might have concluded the contrary on our course to Rio de la Plata, if by chance we had not discovered the reason of the variations[variations] N. which we met with. It was evident that the bank with the fry of fish, that we met with the 29th, was subject to the direction of a current; and its distance from the coast proved, that the current had already existed several days. It was therefore the cause of constant errors in our course; and the currents which navigators have often found to set in to the S. W. on these shores, are subject to variations, and sometimes take contrary directions.
This observation being well confirmed, and our course being nearly S. W. were my authorities for correcting our mistakes as to the distances, making them agree with the observations of the latitude, and not to correct the points of the compass. By this method I got sight of the land, almost the same moment when I expected to see it by my calculation. Those amongst us, who always reckoned our course to the westward, according to the ship’s journals, being contented to correct the difference of latitude by the observations at noon, expected to be close to the shore, according to their calculation, long before we had so much as got sight of it: but can this give them reason to conclude, that the coast of the Brasils is much more westward than Mr. Bellin has laid it down?
Observations on the currents.
In general it seems, that in this part the currents vary, and sometimes set to the N. E. but more frequently to S. W. One glance at the bearings and position of the coast is sufficient to prove that they can only follow one or the other of these directions; and it is always easy to distinguish which of the two then takes place by the differences north or south, which the latitude gives. To these currents we may impute the frequent errors of which navigators complain; and I am of opinion Mr. Bellin has laid down the coasts of the Brasils with exactness. I believe it the more readily, as the longitude of Rio Janeiro has been determined by Messrs. Godin, and the Abbé de la Caille, who met there in 1751; and as some observations of the longitude have likewise been made at Fernambuco and Buenos Ayres. These three points being determined, there can be no considerable error in regard to the longitude of the eastern coasts of America, from 8° to 35° S. latitude; and this has been confirmed to us by experience.
Entry into Rio de la Plata.
Since the 27th of January we found ground, and on the 29th, in the evening, we saw the land, though we could not take the bearings, as night was coming on, and the shore very low. The night was dark, with rain and thunder. We lay-to under our reefed top-sails, the head towards the offing. On the 30th, by break of day, we perceived the mountains of Maldonado: it was then easily discovered that the land we saw the evening before, was the isle of Lobos. |Necessary correction in M. Bellin’s chart.| However, as our latitude, when we arrived, was 35° 16′ 20″ we must have taken it for cape Santa Maria, which Mr. Bellin places in 35° 15′, though its true latitude is 34° 55′; I take notice of this false position, because it might prove dangerous. A ship sailing in 35° 15′ S. latitude, and expecting to find cape Santa Maria, might run the risk of getting upon the English Bank without having seen any land. However, the soundings would caution them against the approaching danger; for, near the sand, you find no more than six or seven fathoms of water. The French Bank, or Sand, which is no more than a prolongation of cape San Antonio, would be more dangerous; just before you come to the northern point of it, you find from twelve to fourteen fathoms of water.
Anchoring-place at the Maldonados.
The Maldonados are the first high lands one sees on the north-side after entering the Rio de la Plata, and almost the only ones till you come to Montevideo. East of these mountains there is an anchorage upon a very low coast; it is a creek sheltered by a little island. The Spaniards have a little town at the Maldonados, with a garrison. In its neighbourhood is a poor gold mine, that has been worked these few years; in it they likewise find pretty transparent stones. About two leagues inland is a town newly built, and entirely peopled with Portugueze deserters; it is called Pueblo Nuevo.
Anchoring at Montevideo.
The 31st, at eleven in the morning, we anchored in Montevideo bay, having four fathom water, with a black, soft, muddy bottom. We had passed the night between the 30th and 31st in nine fathoms, the same bottom, five or six leagues east of the isle of Flores. The two Spanish frigates, which were to take possession of the Isles Malouines (Falkland’s Island) had lain in the road a whole month. |February.| Their commander, Don Philip Ruis Puente, captain of a man of war, was appointed governor of those islands; we went together to Buenos Ayres, in order to concert the necessary measures with the governor-general, for the cession of the settlement, which I was to deliver up to the Spaniards. We did not make a long stay there, and I returned to Montevideo on the 16th of February.
Journey from Buenos Ayres to Montevideo.
The prince of Nassau went with me, and as a contrary wind prevented our returning in a schooner, we landed opposite Buenos Ayres, above the colony of San Sacramento, and made this tour by land. We crossed those immense plains, in which travellers are guided by the eye, taking care not to miss the fords in the rivers, and driving before themselves thirty or forty horses, among which they must take some with nooses, in order to have relays, when those on which they ride are fatigued. We lived upon meat which was almost raw; and passed the nights in huts made of leather, in which our sleep was constantly interrupted by the howlings of tygers that lurk around them. I shall never forget in what manner we crossed the river St. Lucia, which is very deep, rapid, and wider than the Seine opposite the Hospital of Invalids at Paris. You get into a narrow, long canoe, one of whose sides is half as high again as the other; two horses are then forced into the water, one on the starboard, and the other on the larboard side of the canoe, and the master of the ferry, being quite naked, (which, though a very wise precaution, is insufficient[insufficient] to encourage passengers that cannot swim) holds up the horses heads as well as he can above the water, obliging them to swim over the river, and to draw the canoe, if they be strong enough for it.
Don Ruis arrived at Montevideo a few days after us. There arrived at the same time two boats laden, one with wood and refreshments, the other with biscuit and flour, which we took on board, in place of that which had been consumed on our voyage from Brest. The Spanish frigates being likewise ready, we prepared to leave Rio de la Plata.
CHAP. II.
Account of the establishment of the Spaniards in Rio de
la Plata.
1767.
Rio de la Plata, or the river of Plate, does not go by that same name from its source. |Incertainty concerning the source of this river.|It is said to spring from the lake Xaragès, near 16° 30′ south, under the name of Paraguai, which it communicates to the immense extent of land it passes through. In about 27° it joins with the river Parana, whose name it takes, together with its waters. It then runs due south to lat. 34°; where it receives the river Uraguai, and directs its course eastward, by the name of la Plata, which it keeps to the sea.
The Jesuit geographers, who were the first that attributed the origin of this great river to the lake of Xaragès, have been mistaken, and other writers have followed their mistake in this particular. The existence of this lake, which has been in vain sought for, is now acknowledged to be fabulous. The marquis of Valdelirais and Don George Menezès, having been appointed, the one by Spain and the other by Portugal, for settling the limits between the possessions of these two powers in this country, several Spanish and Portuguese officers went through the whole of this portion of America, from 1751 till 1755. Part of the Spaniards went up the river Paraguai, expecting by this means to come into the lake of Xaragès; the Portuguese on their part, setting out from Maragosso, a settlement of theirs upon the inner boundaries of the Brasils, in about 12° south latitude, embarked on a river called Caourou, which the same maps of the Jesuits marked, as falling into the lake of Xaragès. They were both much surprised at meeting in the river Paraguai, in 14° S. latitude, without having seen any lake. They proved, that what had been taken for a lake, was a great extent of very low grounds, which, during a certain season, are covered by the inundations of the river.
Sources of the river Plata.
The Paraguai, or Rio de la Plata, arises between 5° and 6° S. latitude nearly in the middle between the two oceans, and in the same mountains whence the Madera comes, which empties itself into the river of Amazons. The Parana and Uraguai arise both in the Brasils; the Uraguai in the captainship of St. Vincent; the Parana near the Atlantic ocean, in the mountains that lie to the E. N. E. of Rio Janeiro, whence it takes its course to the westward, and afterwards turns south.
Date of the first settlements of the Spaniards there.
The abbé Prevost has given the history of the discovery of the Rio de la Plata, and of the obstacles the Spaniards met with, in forming the first settlements they made there. It appears from his account that Diaz de Solis first entered this river in 1515, and gave his name to it, which it bore till 1526, when Sebastian Cabot changed it to that of la Plata, or of Silver, on account of the quantity of that metal he found among the natives there. Cabot built the fort of Espiritù Santo, upon the river Tercero, thirty leagues above the junction of the Paraguai and Uraguai; but this settlement was destroyed almost as soon as it was constructed.
Don Pedro de Mendoza, great cup-bearer to the emperor, was then sent to the Rio de la Plata[Rio de la Plata] in 1535. He laid the first foundations of Buenos Ayres, under bad auspices, on the right hand shore of the river, some leagues below its junction with the Uraguai, and his whole expedition was a chain of unfortunate events, that did not even end at his death.
The inhabitants of Buenos Ayres, being continually interrupted by the Indians, and constantly oppressed by famine, were obliged to leave the place and to retire to Assumption. This town, now the capital of Paraguai, was founded by some Spaniards, attendants of Mendoza, upon the western shore of the river, three hundred leagues from its mouth, and was in a very short space of time considerably enlarged. At length Don Pedro Ortiz de Zarata, governor of Paraguay, rebuilt Buenos Ayres in 1580, on the same spot where the unhappy Mendoza had formerly laid it out, and fixed his residence there: the town became the staple to which European ships resorted, and by degrees the capital of all these tracts, the see of a bishop, and the residence of a governor-general.
Situation of the town of Buenos Ayres.
Buenos Ayres is situated in 34° 35′ south latitude, its longitude is 61° 5′ west from Paris, according to the astronomical observations of father Feuillée. It is built regular, and much larger than the number of its inhabitants would require, which do not exceed twenty thousand, whites, negroes, and mestizos. The way of building the houses gives the town this great extent; for, if we except the convents, public buildings, and five or six private mansions, they are all very low, and have no more than a ground-floor, with vast court-yards, and most of them a garden. The citadel, which includes the governor’s palace, is situated upon the shore of the river, and forms one of the sides of the great square, opposite to which the town-hall is situated; the cathedral and episcopal palace occupy the two other sides of the square, in which a public market is daily held.
This town wants a harbour.
There is no harbour at Buenos Ayres, nor so much as a mole, to facilitate the landing of boats. The ships can only come within three leagues of the town; there they unload their goods into boats, which enter a little river, named Rio Chuelo, from whence the merchandizes are brought in carts to the town, which is about a quarter of a league from the landing-place. The ships which want careening, or take their lading at Buenos Ayres, go to la Ençenada de Baragon, a kind of port about nine or ten leagues E. S. E. of this town.
Religious establishments.
Buenos Ayres contains many religious communities of both sexes. A great number of holidays are yearly celebrated by processions and fireworks. The monks have given the title of Majordomes or Stewards of the founders of their orders, and of the holy Virgin, to the principal ladies in this town. This post gives them the exclusive charge of ornamenting the church, dressing the statue of the tutelar saint, and wearing the habit of the order. It is a singular sight for a stranger to see ladies of all ages in the churches of St. Francis and St. Dominique assist in officiating, and wear the habit of those holy institutors.
The Jesuits have offered a much more austere mode of sanctification than the former to the pious ladies. Adjoining to their convent, they had a house, called Casa de los Exercicios de las Mugeres, i. e. the House for the Exercises of Women. Married and unmarried women, without the consent of their husbands or parents, went to be sanctified there by a retreat of twelve days. They were lodged and boarded at the expence of the community. No man was admitted into this sanctuary, unless he wore the habit of St. Ignatius; even servant-maids were not allowed to attend their mistresses thither. The exercises practised in this holy place were meditation, prayer, catechetical instructions, confession, and flagellation. They shewed us the walls of the chapel, yet stained with the blood, which, as they told us, was dispersed by the rods wherewith penitence armed the hands of these Magdalens.
All men are brothers, and religion makes no distinction in regard to their colour. There are sacred ceremonies for the slaves, and the Dominicans have established a religious community of negroes. They have their chapels, masses, holidays, and decent burials, and all this costs every negro that belongs to the community only four reals a year. This community of negroes acknowledges St. Benedict of Palermo, and the Virgin, as their patrons, perhaps on account of these words of scripture; “Nigra sum, sed formosa filia Jerusalem.” On the holidays of these tutelary saints, they chuse two kings, one to represent the king of Spain, the other the Portugueze monarch, and each of them chooses a queen. Two bands, armed and well dressed, form a procession, and follow the kings, marching with the cross, banners, and a band of music. They sing, dance, represent battles between the two parties, and repeat litanies. This festivity lasts from morning till night, and the sight of it is diverting.
Environs of Buenos Ayres, and their productions.
The environs of Buenos Ayres are well-cultivated. Most of the inhabitants of that city have their country-houses there, called Quintas, furnishing all the necessaries of life in abundance. I except wine, which they get from Spain, or from Mandoza, a vineyard about two hundred leagues from Buenos Ayres. The cultivated environs of this city do not extend very far; for at the distance of only three leagues from the city, there are immense fields, left to an innumerable multitude of horses and black cattle. One scarce meets with a few scattered huts, on crossing this vast country, erected not so much with a view of cultivating the soil, as rather to secure the property of the ground, or of the cattle upon it to their several owners. Travellers, who cross this plain, find no accommodations, and are obliged to sleep in the same carts they travel in, and which are the only kind of carriages made use of on long journeys here. Those who travel on horseback are often exposed to lie in the fields, without any covering.
Abundance of cattle.
The country is a continued plain, without other forests than those of fruit trees. It is situated in the happiest climate, and would be one of the most fertile in the world in all kinds of productions, if it were cultivated. The small quantity of wheat and maize which is sown there, multiplies by far more than in our best fields in France. Notwithstanding these natural advantages, almost the whole country lies neglected, as well in the neighbourhood of the Spanish settlements, as at the greatest distance from them; or, if by chance you meet with any improvements, they are generally made by negro-slaves. Horses and horned cattle are in such great abundance in these plains, that those who drive the oxen before the carts, are on horseback; and the inhabitants, or travellers, when pressed by hunger, kill an ox, take what they intend to eat of it, and leave the rest as a prey to wild dogs and tygers[[12]], which are the only dangerous animals in this country.
The dogs were originally brought from Europe: the ease with which they are able to get their livelihood in the open fields, has induced them to leave the habitations, and they have encreased their species innumerably. They often join in packs to attack a wild bull, and even a man on horseback, when they are pressed by hunger. The tygers are not numerous, except in woody parts, which are only to be found on the banks of rivulets. The inhabitants of these countries are known to be very dexterous in using nooses; and it is fact, that some Spaniards do not fear to throw a noose, even upon a tyger; though it is equally certain that some of them unfortunately became the prey of these ravenous creatures. At Montevideo, I saw a species of tyger-cat, whose hairs were pretty long, and of a whitish grey. The animal is very low upon its legs, about five feet long, fierce, and very scarce.
Scarcity of wood; means of remedying it.
Wood is very dear at Buenos Ayres, and at Montevideo. In the neighbourhood of these places, are only some little shrubs, hardly fit for fuel. All timber for building houses, and constructing and refitting the vessels that navigate in the river, comes from Paraguai in rafts. It would, however, be easy to get all the timber for constructing the greatest ships from the upper parts of the country. From Montegrande, where they have the finest wood, it might be transported in single round stems, through the river Ybicui, into the Uraguai, and from the Salto-Chico of the Uraguai, some vessels made on purpose for this use, might bring it to such places upon the river, where docks were built.
Account of the natives of this country.
The Indians, who inhabit this part of America, north and south of the river de la Plata, are of that race called by the Spaniards Indios bravos.—They are middle-sized, very ugly, and afflicted with the itch. They are of a deep tawny colour, which they blacken still more, by continually rubbing themselves with grease. They have no other dress than a great cloak of roe-deer skins, hanging down to their heels, in which they wrap themselves up. These skins are very well dressed; they turn the hairy side inwards, and paint the outside with various colours. The distinguishing mark of their cacique is a band or strap of leather, which is tied round his forehead; it is formed into a diadem or crown, and adorned with plates of copper. Their arms are bows and arrows; and they likewise make use of nooses and of balls[[13]]. These Indians are always on horseback, and have no fixed habitations, at least not near the Spanish settlements. Sometimes they come with their wives to buy brandy of the Spaniards; and they do not cease to drink of it, till they are so drunk as not to be able to stir. In order to get strong liquors, they sell their arms, furs, and horses; and having disposed of all they are possessed of, they seize the horses they can meet with near the habitations, and make off. Sometimes they come in bodies of two or three hundred men, to carry off the cattle from the lands of the Spaniards, or to attack the caravans of travellers. They plunder and murder, or carry them into slavery. This evil cannot be remedied: for, how is it possible to conquer a nomadic nation, in an immense uncultivated country, where it would be difficult even to find them: besides, these Indians are brave and inured to hardships; and those times exist no longer, when one Spaniard could put a thousand Indians to flight.
Race of robbers, settled on the north side of the river.
A set of robbers united into a body, a few years ago, on the north side of the river, and may become more dangerous to the Spaniards than they are at present, if efficacious measures are not taken to destroy them. Some malefactors escaped from the hands of justice, retired to the north of the Maldonadoes; some deserters joined them; their numbers encreased insensibly; they took wives from among the Indians, and founded a race of men who live upon robberies. They make inroads, and carry off the cattle in the Spanish possessions, which they conduct to the boundaries of the Brasils, where they barter it with the Paulists[[14]], against arms and clothes. Unhappy are the travellers that fall into their hands. They are now, it is said, upwards of six hundred in number, have left their first habitation, and are retired much further to the north-west.
Extent of the government de la Plata.
The governor-general of the province de la Plata resides, as I have already mentioned, at Buenos Ayres. In all matters which do not concern the marine, he is reckoned dependent upon the viceroy of Peru; but the great distance between them almost annuls this dependency, and it only exists in regard to the silver, which he is obliged to get out of the mines of Potosi; this, however, will no longer be brought over in shapeless pieces, as a mint has been established this year at Potosi. The particular governments of Tucuman and Paraguai (the principal settlements of which are Santa-Fé, Corrientes, Salta, Tujus, Cordoua, Mendoza, and Assumption) are dependent, together with the famous missions of the Jesuits, upon the governor-general of la Plata. This vast province contains, in a word, all the possessions of the Spaniards, east of the Cordilleras, from the river of Amazons to the straits of Magalhaens. It is true, there is no settlement south of Buenos Ayres; and nothing but the necessity of providing themselves with salt, induces the Spaniards to penetrate into those parts. For this purpose a convoy of two hundred carts, escorted by three hundred men, sets out every year from Buenos Ayres, and goes to the latitude of forty degrees, to load the salt in lakes near the sea, where it is naturally formed. Formerly the Spaniards used to send schooners to the bay of St. Julian, to fetch salt.
I shall speak of the missions in Paraguay when I come to the second voyage, which some circumstances obliged us to make again into the river of la Plata; I shall then enter into the account of the expulsion of the Jesuits, of which we were witnesses.
The commerce of the province de la Plata is less profitable than any in Spanish America; this province produces neither gold nor silver, and its inhabitants are not numerous enough to be able to get at all the other riches which the soil produces and contains. The commerce of Buenos Ayres itself is not in the same state it was in about ten years ago; it is fallen off considerably, since the trade by land is no longer permitted; that is, since it has been prohibited to carry European goods by land from Buenos Ayres to Peru and Chili; so that the only objects of the commerce with these two provinces are, at present, cotton, mules, and maté, or the Paraguay-herb[[15]]. The money and interest of the merchants at Lima have obtained this order, against which those of Buenos Ayres have complained. The law-suit is carried on at Madrid, and I know not how or when it will be determined. However, Buenos Ayres is a very rich place: I have seen a register-ship sail from thence, with a million of dollars on board; and if all the inhabitants of this country could get rid of their leather or skins in Europe, that article alone would suffice to enrich them. |Colony of Santo Sacramento.| Before the last war, they carried on a prodigious contraband-trade with the colony of Santo Sacramento, a place in the possession of the Portuguese, upon the left side of the river, almost directly opposite Buenos Ayres. But this place is now so much surrounded by the new works, erected by the Spaniards, that it is impossible to carry on any illicit trade with it, unless by connivance; even the Portuguese, who inhabit the place, are obliged to get their subsistence by sea from the Brasils. In short, this station bears the same relation to Spain here, as Gibraltar does in Europe; with this difference only, that the former belongs to the Portuguese, and the latter to the English.
Account of the town of Montevideo.
The town of Montevideo has been settled forty years ago, is situated on the north side of the river, thirty leagues above its mouth, and built on a peninsula, which lies convenient to secure from the east wind, a bay of about two leagues deep, and one league wide at its entrance. At the western point of this isle, is a single high mountain, which serves as a look out, and has given a name to the town; the other lands, which surround it, are very low. That side which looks towards a plain, is defended by a citadel. Several batteries guard the side towards the sea and the harbour. There is a battery upon a very little isle, in the bottom of the bay, called Isle au François, or French-Island. |Anchorage in this bay.| The anchorage at Montevideo is safe, though sometimes molested by pamperos, which are storms from the south-west, accompanied by violent tempests. There is no great depth of water in the whole bay; and one may moor in three, four, or five fathoms of water in a very soft mud, where the biggest merchant-ships run a-ground, without receiving any damage; but sharp-built ships easily break their backs, and are lost. The tides do not come in regular; according as the wind is, the water is high or low. It is necessary to be cautious, in regard to a chain of rocks that extends some cables-length off the east point of the bay; the sea forms breakers upon them, and the people of this country call them la Punta de las Carretas.
It is an excellent place to put in at for refreshments.
Montevideo has a governor of its own, who is immediately under the orders of the governor-general of the province. The country round this town is almost entirely uncultivated, and furnishes neither wheat nor maize; they must get flour, biscuit, and other provisions for the ships from Buenos Ayres. In the gardens belonging to the town, and to the adjoining houses, they cultivate scarce any legumes; there is, however, plenty of melons, calabashes, figs, peaches, apples, and quinces. Cattle are as abundant there as in any other part of this country; which, together with the wholesomeness of the air, makes Montevideo an excellent place to put in at for the crew; only good measures must be taken to prevent desertion. Every thing invites the sailor thither; it being a country, where the first reflection which strikes him, on setting his feet on shore, is, that they live there almost without working. Indeed, how is it possible to resist the comparison of spending one’s days in idleness and tranquility, in a happy climate, or of languishing under the weight of a constantly laborious life, and of accelerating the misfortunes of an indigent old age, by the toils of the sea?
CHAP. III.
Departure from Montevideo; navigation to the Málouines; delivery of them into the hands of the Spaniards; historical digression on the subject of these islands.
1767. February.
Departure from
Montevideo.
The 28th of February, 1767, we weighed from Montevideo, in company with two Spanish frigates, and a tartane laden with cattle. I agreed with Don Ruis, that whilst we were in the river, he should lead the way; but that as soon as we were got out to sea, I was to conduct the squadron. However, to obviate the dangers in case of a separation, I gave each of the frigates a pilot, acquainted with the coasts of the Malouines. In the afternoon we were obliged to come to an anchor, as a fog prevented our seeing either the main-land, or the isle of Flores. The next morning we had contrary wind; however, I expected that we should have weighed, as the strong currents in the river favoured us; but seeing the day almost at an end, without any signal being given by the Spanish commodore, I sent an officer to tell him, that having had a sight of the isle of Flores, I found myself too near the English sand-bank, and that I advised we should weigh the next day, whether the wind was fair or not. Don Ruis answered, that he was in the hands of the pilot of the river, who would not weigh the anchor till we had a settled fair wind. The officer then informed him from me, that I should sail by day-break; and that I would wait for him, by plying to windward, or by anchoring more to the north, unless the tides or the violence of the wind should separate us against my will.
The tartane had not cast anchor the last night; and we lost sight of her, and never saw her again. She returned to Montevideo three weeks after, without fulfilling its intended expedition. |Storm in the
river.| The night was stormy; the pamperos blew very violently, and made us drag our anchor; however, we cast another anchor, and that fixed us. By day-break we saw the Spanish ships, with their yards and top-masts struck[yards and top-masts struck], and had dragged their anchors much further than ourselves. |1767. March.| The wind was still contrary and violent, the sea very high, and it was nine o’clock before we could proceed under our courses and top-sails[courses and top-sails]; at noon we lost sight of the Spaniards, who remained at anchor, and the third of March in the evening we were got out of the river.
Voyage from Montevideo to the Malouines.
During our voyage to the Malouines, we had variable winds from N. W. to S. W. almost always stormy weather and high seas: we were obliged to try under our main-sail on the 16th, having suffered some damage. Since the 17th in the afternoon, when we came into soundings, the weather was very foggy. The 19th, not seeing the land, though the horizon was clear, and I was east of the Sebald’s isles by my reckoning, I was afraid I had gone beyond the Malouines, and therefore resolved to sail westward; the wind, which is a rare circumstance, favoured my resolution. I proceeded very fast in twenty-four hours, and having then found the soundings off the coast of Patagonia, I was sure as to my position, and so proceeded again very confidently to the eastward. Indeed, the 21st, at four o’clock in the afternoon, we discovered the Sebald’s isles, remaining in N. E. by E.[N. E. by E.] eight or ten leagues distant, and soon after we saw the coast of the Malouines. |Fault committed in the direction of this course.| I could have spared myself all the trouble I had been in, if I had in time sailed close-hauled, in order to approach the coast of America, and so find the islands by their latitude.
The 23d the evening we entered and anchored in the great bay, where the two Spanish frigates likewise came to an anchor on the 24th. They had suffered greatly during their course; the storm on the 16th having obliged them to bear away; and the commodore-ship, having shipped a sea, which carried away her quarter-badges, broke through the windows of the great cabbin, and poured a great quantity of water into her. Almost all the cattle they took on board at Montevideo for the colony, died through the badness of the weather. The twenty-fifth the three vessels came into port, and moored.
The Spaniards take possession of our settlement at the
Malouines.
April.
The first of April I delivered our settlement to the Spaniards, who took possession of it, by planting the Spanish colours, which were saluted at sun-rising and sun-setting from the shore and from the ships. I read the king’s letter to the French inhabitants of this infant colony, by which his majesty permits their remaining under the government of his most catholic majesty. Some families profited of this permission; the rest, with the garrison, embarked on board the Spanish frigates, which sailed for Montevideo the 27th in the morning[[16]].
Historical details concerning the Malouines.
Some historical remarks concerning these isles, will, I hope, not be deemed unnecessary.
Americo Vespucci discovers them.
It appears to me, that the first discovery of them may be attributed to the celebrated Americo Vespucci, who, in the third voyage for the discovery of America, sailed along the northern coasts of them in 1502. It is true, he did not know whether it belonged to an isle, or whether it was part of the continent; but it is easy to conclude, from the course he took, from the latitudes he came to, and from the very description he gives of the coasts, that it is that of the Malouines. |French and English
navigators visit them after him.| I shall assert with equal right, that Beauchesne Gouin, returning from the South Seas in 1700, anchored on the east side of the Malouines, thinking he was at the Sebald’s isles.
His account says, that after discovering the isle to which he gave his own name, he anchored on the east side of the most easterly of Sebald’s isles. I must first of all observe, that the Malouines, being in the middle between the Sebald’s isles and the isle of Beauchesne, have a considerable extent, and that he must have necessarily fallen in with the coast of the Malouines, as is impossible not to see them, when at anchor eastward of the Sebald’s isles. Besides, Beauchesne saw a single isle of an immense extent; and it was not till after he had cleared it, that he perceived two other little ones: he passed through a moist country, filled with marshes and fresh-water lakes, covered with wild-geese, teals, ducks, and snipes; he saw no woods there; all this agrees prodigiously well with the Malouines. Sebald’s isles, on the contrary, are four little rocky isles, where William Dampier, in 1683, attempted in vain to water, and could not find a good anchoring-ground.
Be this as it will, the Malouines have been but little known before our days—Most of the relations report them as isles covered with woods. Richard Hawkins, who came near the northern coast of them, which he called Hawkins’s Maiden-land, and who pretty well described them, asserts that they were inhabited, and pretends to have seen fires there. At the beginning of this century, the St. Louis, a ship from St. Malo, anchored on the south-east side, in a bad bay, under the shelter of some little isles, called the isles of Anican, after the name of the privateer; but he only stayed to water there, and continued his course, without caring to survey them.
The French settle there.
However, their happy position, to serve as a place of refreshment or shelter to ships going to the South-Seas, struck the navigators of all nations. In the beginning of the year 1763, the court of France resolved to form a settlement in these isles. I proposed to government, that I would establish it at my own expence, assisted by Messrs. de Nerville and d’Arboulin, one my cousin-german, the other my uncle. I immediately got the Eagle of twenty guns, and the Sphinx of twelve, constructed and furnished with proper necessaries for such an expedition, by the care of M. Duclos Guyot, now my second. I embarked several Acadian families, a laborious intelligent set of people, who ought to be dear to France, on account of the inviolable attachment they have shewn, as honest but unfortunate citizens.
The 15th of September I sailed from St. Malo. M. de Nerville was on board the Eagle with me. After touching twice, once at the isle of St. Catharine, on the coast of the Brasils, and once at Montevideo, where we took in many horses and horned cattle, we made the land of Sebald’s isles the 31st of January, 1764. I sailed into a great bay, formed by the coast of the Malouines, between its N. W. point, and Sebald’s isles; but not finding a good anchoring ground, sailed along the north coast; and, coming to the eastern extremity of these isles, I entered a great bay on the third of February, which seemed very convenient to me, for forming the first settlement.
Account of the manner in which it was made.
The same illusion which made Hawkins, Woods, Rogers, and others, believe that these isles were covered with wood, acted likewise upon my fellow voyagers. We were surprised, when we landed, to see that what we took for woods as we sailed along the coast, was nothing but bushes of a tall rush, standing very close together. The bottom of its stalks being dried, got the colour of a dead leaf to the height of about five feet; and from thence springs a tuft of rushes, which crown this stalk; so that at a distance these stalks together have the appearance of a wood of middling height. These rushes only grow near the sea side, and on little isles; the mountains on the main land are, in some parts, covered all over with heath, which are easily mistaken for bushes.
In the various excursions, which I immediately ordered, and partly made in the island myself, we did not find any kind of wood; nor could we discover that these parts had been frequented by any nation.
I only found, and in great quantity too, an exceeding good turf, which might supply the defect of wood, both for fuel, and for the forge; and I passed through immense plains, every where intersected by little rivulets, with very good water. Nature offered no other subsistence for men than fish and several sorts of land and water fowl. It was very singular, on our arrival, to see all the animals, which had hitherto been the only inhabitants of the island, come near us without fear, and shew no other emotions than those which curiosity inspires at the sight of an unknown object. The birds suffered themselves to be taken with the hand, and some would come and settle upon people that stood still; so true it is, that man does not bear a characteristic mark of ferocity, which mere instinct is capable of pointing out to these weak animals, the being that lives upon their blood. This confidence was not of long duration with them; for they soon learnt to mistrust their most cruel enemies.
First year.
The 17th of March, I fixed upon the place of the new colony, which at first was only composed of twenty-seven persons, among whom were five women, and three children. We set to work immediately to build them huts covered with rushes, to construct a magazine, and a little fort, in the middle of which a small obelisk was erected. The king’s effigy adorned one of its sides, and under its foundations we buried some coins, together with a medal, on one side of which was graved the date of the undertaking, and on the other the figure of the king, with these words for the exergue, “Tibi serviat ultima Thule.”[[17]]
However, to encourage the colonists, and encrease their reliance on speedy assistance, which I promised them, M. de Nerville consented to remain at their head, and to share the risks to which this weak settlement was exposed, at the extremity of the globe, where it was at that time the only one in such a high southern latitude. The fifth of April, 1764, I solemnly took possession of the isles in the king’s name, and the eighth I sailed for France.
Second year.
The fifth of January, 1765, I saw my colonists again, and found them healthy and content. After landing what I had brought to their assistance, I went into the straits of Magalhaens, to get a cargo of timber, palisadoes and young trees, and I began a navigation, which is become necessary to the colony. Then I found the ships of commodore Byron, who, after surveying the Malouines for the first time, passed the straits, in order to get into the South-seas. When I left the Malouines the 27th of April following, the colony consisted of twenty-four persons, including the officers.
In 1765 we sent back the Eagle to the Malouines, and the king sent the Etoile, one of his store ships, with her. These two vessels, after landing the provisions and new colonists, sailed together to take in wood in the straits of Magalhaens. The settlement now began to get a kind of form. The governor and the ordonnateur[[18]] lodged in very convenient houses built of stone, and the other inhabitants lived in houses of which the walls were made of sods. There were three magazines, both for the public stores and those of private persons. The wood out of the straits had served to build several vessels, and to construct schooners for the purpose of surveying the coast. The Eagle returned to France from this last voyage, with a cargo of train oil and seals-skins, tanned in the island. Several, trials had been made towards cultivation, which gave no reason to despair of success, as the greatest part of the corn brought from Europe was easily naturalized to the country. The encrease of the cattle could be depended upon, and the number of inhabitants amounted then to about one hundred and fifty.
However, as I have just mentioned, commodore Byron came in January, 1765, to survey the Malouines. He touched to the westward of our settlement, in a port which we had already named Port de la Croisade, and he took possession of these islands for the crown of England, without leaving a single inhabitant there. It was not before 1766, that the English sent a colony to settle in Port de la Croisade, which they had named Port Egmont; and captain Macbride, of the Jason frigate, came to our settlement the same year, in the beginning of December. He pretended that these parts belonged to his Britannic majesty, threatened to land by force, if he should be any longer refused that liberty, visited the governor, and sailed away again the same day.
Such was the state of the Malouines, when we put them into the hands of the Spaniards, whose prior right was thus inforced by that which we possessed by making the first settlement[[19]]. The account of the productions of these isles, and the animals which are to be found there, will furnish matter for the following chapter, and are the result of the observations of M. de Nerville, during a residence of three years. I believed it was so much more proper to enter upon this detail, as M. de Commerçon has not been at the Malouines, and as their natural history is in some regards important[[20]].
CHAP. IV.
Detail of the natural history of the Isles Malouines.
A Country which has been but lately inhabited always offers interesting objects, even to those who are little versed in natural history; and though their remarks may not be looked upon as authorities, yet they may satisfy, in part, the curiosity of the investigators of the system of nature.
First aspect they bear.
The first time we landed upon these isles, no inviting objects came in sight, and, excepting the beauty of the port in which we lay, we knew not what could prevail upon us to stay on this apparently barren ground: the horizon terminated by bald mountains, the land lacerated by the sea, which seems to claim the empire over it; the fields bearing a dead aspect, for want of inhabitants; no woods to comfort those who intended to be the first settlers; a vast silence, now and then interrupted by the howls of marine monsters; and, lastly, the sad uniformity which reigned throughout; all these were discouraging objects, which seemed that in such dreary places nature would refuse assistance to the efforts of man. But time and experience taught us, that labour and constancy would not be without success even there. The resources with which nature presented us, were immense bays, sheltered from the violence of the winds by mountains, which poured forth cascades and rivulets; meadows covered with rich pastures, proper for the food of numerous flocks; lakes and pools to water them; no contests concerning the property of the place; no fierce, or poisonous, or importune animals to be dreaded; an innumerable quantity of the most useful amphibia; birds and fish of the best taste; a combustible substance to supply the defect of wood; plants known to be specifics against the diseases common to sea-faring men; a healthy and continually temperate climate, much more fit to make men healthy and robust, than those enchant-countries, where abundance itself becomes noxious, and heat causes a total inactivity. These advantages soon expunged the impressions which the first appearance had made, and justified the attempt.
To this we may add, that the English in their relation of Port-Egmont, have not scrupled to say, that the countries adjacent furnished every thing necessary for a good settlement. Their taste for natural history will, without doubt, engage them to make and to publish enquiries which will rectify these.
Geographical position of the Malouines.
The Malouines are situated between 51° and 52° 30′ S. lat. and 65° 30′ W. long. from Paris; and between 80 and 90 leagues distant from the coast of America or Patagonia, and from the entrance of the straits of Magalhaens.
The map which[which] we give of these islands, has certainly not a geographical accuracy, which must have been the work of many years. It may, however, serve to indicate nearly the extent of these isles from east to west, and from north to south; the position of the coasts, along which our ships have sailed; the figure and depth of the great bays, and the direction of the principal mountains[[21]].
Of the harbours.
The harbours, which we have examined, are both extensive and secure; a tough ground, and islands happily situated to break the fury of the waves, contribute to make them safe and easily defensible; they have little creeks, in which the smallest vessels can retire. The rivulets come down into the sea; so that nothing can be more easy, than to take in the provision of fresh water.
Tides.
The tides are subject to all the emotions of the sea, which surrounds the isles, and have never risen at settled periods, which could have been calculated. It has only been observed, that, just before high-water, they have three determinate variations; the sea, at that time, in less than a quarter of an hour, rises and falls thrice, as if shaken up and down; and this motion is more violent during the solstices, the equinoxes, and the full moons.
Winds.
The winds are generally variable; but still those between north and west, and between south and west, are more prevalent than the others. In winter, when the winds are between north and west, the weather is foggy and rainy; if between west and south, they bring snow, hail, and hoar frost; if from between south and east, they are less attended with mists, but violent, though not quite so much as the summer winds, which blow between south-west and north-west: these latter, which clear the sky and dry the soil, do not begin to blow till the sun appears above the horizon; they encrease as that luminary rises; are at the greatest height when he crosses the meridian; and lose their force when he goes to disappear behind the mountains. Besides being regulated by the sun’s motion, they are likewise subject to be governed by the tides, which encrease their force, and sometimes alter their direction. Almost all the nights throughout the year are calm, fair, and star-light, especially in summer. The snow, which is brought by the south-west winds in winter, is inconsiderable; it lies about two months upon the tops of the highest mountains; and a day or two, at most, upon the surface of the other grounds. The rivers do not freeze, and the ice of lakes and pools has not been able to bear men upwards of twenty-four hours together. The hoar-frosts in spring and autumn do no damage to the plants, and at sun-rising are converted into dew. In summer, thunder is seldom heard; and, upon the whole, we felt neither great cold, nor great heat; and the distinction of seasons appeared almost insensible. In such a climate, where the revolutions of the seasons affect by no means the constitution, it is natural that men should be strong and healthy; and this has been experienced during a stay of three years.
Water.
The few mineral substances found at the Malouines, are a proof of the goodness of the water, which is every where conveniently situated; no noxious plants infect the places where it runs through; its bed is generally gravel or sand, and sometimes turf, which give it a little yellowish hue, without diminishing its goodness and lightness.
Soil.
All the plains have much more depth of soil than is necessary for the plough to go in. The soil is so much interwoven with roots of plants, to the depth of near twelve inches, that it was necessary, before it was possible to proceed to cultivation, to take off this crust or layer; and to cut it, that it might be dried and burnt. It is known, that this process is excellent to make the ground better, and we made use of it. Below this first layer, is a black mould, never less than eight or ten inches deep, and frequently much deeper; the next is the yellow, or original virgin-soil, whose depth is undeterminate. It rests upon strata of slate and stones; among which no calcareous ones have ever been found; as the trial has been made with aquafortis. It seems, that the isles are without stones of this kind. Journeys have been undertaken to the very tops of the mountains, in order to find some; but they have never procured any other than a kind of quartz, and a sandstone, not friable; which produced sparks, and even a kind of phosphorescent light, accompanied with a smell of brimstone. Stones proper for building are not wanting; for most of the coasts are formed of them. There are strata of a very hard and small grained stone; and likewise other strata, more or less sloping, which consist of slates; and of a kind of stone containing particles of talc. There are likewise stones, which divide into shivers; and on them we observed impressions of a kind of fossil shells, unknown in these seas; we made grind-stones of it to sharpen our tools. The stone taken out of the quarries was yellowish, and not yet come to a sufficient degree of hardness, as it could be cut with a knife; but it hardened in the air. Clay, sand, and earth, fit for making potters-ware and bricks, were easily found.
Turf and its qualities.
The turf, which is generally to be met with above the clay, goes up a great way in the country. From, whatever point one sets out, one could not go a league without meeting with considerable strata of it, always easy to be distinguished by the inequalities in the ground, by which some of its sides were discovered. It continually is formed from the remains of roots and plants in marshy places; which are always known by a sharp-pointed kind of rushes. This turf being taken in a bay, near our habitation, where it shews a surface of twelve feet high to the open air, gets a sufficient degree of dryness there. This was what we made use of; its smell was not disagreeable; it burnt well, and its cinders, or embers, were superior to those of sea-coals; because, by blowing them, it was as easy to light a candle as with burning coals; it was sufficient for all the works of the forge, excepting the joining of great pieces.
Plants.
All the sea-shores, and the inner parts of the isles are covered with a kind of gladiolus, or rather a species of gramen. It is of an excellent green, and is above six feet high, and serves for a retreat to seals and sea-lions: on our journies it sheltered us, as it did them. By its assistance we could take up our quarters in a moment. Its bent and united stalks, formed a thatch or roof, and its dry leaves a pretty good bed. It was likewise with this plant that we covered our houses; its stalk is sweet, nourishing, and preferred to all other food by the cattle.
Next to this great plant, the heath, the shrubs, and the gum-plant were the only objects that appeared in the fields. The other parts are covered by small plants, which, in moist ground, are more green and more substantial. The shrubs were of great use to us as fuel, and they were afterwards kept for heating the ovens, together with the heath; the red fruit of the latter attracted a great quantity of game in the season.
Resinous gum-plant.
The gum-plant, which is new and unknown in Europe, deserves a more ample description. It is of a bright green, and has nothing of the figure of a plant; one would sooner take it to be an excrescence of the earth of this colour; for it has neither stalk, branches, nor leaves—Its surface, which is convex, is of so close a texture, that nothing can be introduced between it, without tearing it. The first thing we did, was to sit down or stand upon it; it is not above a foot and a half high. It would bear us up as safely as a stone, without yielding under our weight. Its breadth is very disproportionate to its height; and I have seen some of more than six feet in diameter, without being any higher than common. Its circumference is regular only in the smaller plants, which are generally hemispherical; but when they are grown up, they are terminated by humps and cavities, without any regularity. In several parts of its surface, are drops of the size of pease, of a tough yellowish matter; which was at first called gum; but as it could not be dissolved, except by spirituous solvents, it was named a rosin. Its smell is strong, aromatic, and like that of turpentine. In order to know the inside of this plant, we cut it close to the ground, and turned it down. As we broke it, we saw that it comes from a stalk, whence an infinite number of concentric shoots arise, consisting of leaves like stars, enchased one within the other, by means of an axis common to all.
These shoots are white within, except at a little distance of the surface, where the air colours them green. When they are broken, a milky juice comes out in great abundance; which is more viscid than that of spurge[[22]]. The stalk abounds with the juice, as do the roots, which extend horizontally; and often at some distance send forth new shoots, so that you never find one of these plants alone. It seems to like the sides of hills; and it thrives well in any exposure. It was not before the third year that we endeavoured to know its flower and seeds, both of which are very small, because we had been disappointed in our attempts to bring it over to Europe. At last, however, some seeds were brought, in order to endeavour to get possession of so singular and new a plant, which might even prove useful in physic; as its rosin had already been successfully applied to slight wounds by several sailors. One thing deserves to be observed, namely, that this plant loses its rosin by the air alone, and the washing of the rains. How can we make this agree with its quality of dissolving in spirits alone? In this state it was amazingly light, and would burn like straw.
Beer-plant.
After this extraordinary plant, we met with one of approved utility; it forms a little shrub, and sometimes creeps under the plants, and along the coast. We accidentally tasted it, and found it had a spruce taste, which put us in mind of trying to make beer of it; we had brought a quantity of melasses and malt with us; the trials we made, answered beyond expectation; and the settlers being once instructed in the process, never were in want of this liquor afterwards, which was anti-scorbutic, by the nature of the plant; it was with good success employed in baths, which were made for sick persons, who came from the sea. Its leaves are small and dentated, and of a bright green. When it is crushed between the fingers, it is reduced into a kind of meal, which is somewhat glutinous, and has an aromatic smell.
A kind of celery or wild parsley, in great quantities; abundance of sorrel, water-cresses, and a kind of maiden-hair[[23]], with undated leaves, furnished as much as could be required against the scurvy, together with the above plant.
Fruits.
Two small fruits, one of which is unknown, and looks like a mulberry, the other no bigger than a pea, and called lucet, on account of the similarity it bears to that which is found in North-America, were the only ones which were to be had in autumn. Those which grew upon the bushes were good for nothing, excepting for children, who will eat the worst of fruits, and for wild-fowl. The plant on which the fruit, which we called mulberry, grew, is creeping; its leaf resembles that of the hornbeam; its branches are long, and it is propagated like the strawberry.
The lucet is likewise a creeping plant, bearing the fruit all along its branches, which are beset with little shining round leaves, of the colour of myrtle leaves; their fruits are white, and coloured red on that side which is turned towards the sun; they have an aromatic taste, and smell like orange-blossoms, as do the leaves, of which the infusion drank with milk is very pleasant to the taste. This plant is hidden among the grass, and prefers a wet soil: a prodigious quantity of it grows in the neighbourhood of lakes.
Flowers.
Among several other plants, which we found superfluous to examine, there were many flowers, but all without smell, one excepted, which is white, and has the smell of the tuberose. We likewise found a true violet, as yellow as a jonquil. It is worth notice that we have never found any bulbous-rooted plant. Another singularity is, that in the southern part of the isle we inhabited, beyond a chain of hills which divides it from east to west, it appeared that there were hardly any of the resinous gum-plants, and that in their stead we found abundance of another plant of the same form, but of a different green, wanting the solidity of the other, and not producing any rosin, but only fine yellow flowers in the proper season. This plant, which was easily opened, consisted as the other, of shoots which all spring from the same stalk, and terminate at its surface. Coming back over the hills, we found a tall species of maiden hair; its leaves are not waved, but in the form of sword blades. From the plant arise two principal stalks, which bear their seeds on the underside, like the other species of maiden hair. There were likewise a great quantity of friable plants growing upon stones, they seemed to partake of the nature of stone, and of vegetables; they were thought to be species of lichen, but the ascertaining whether they would be of use in dying, was put off to another time.
Sea plants.
As to the submarine plants, they were more inconvenient than of any use. The whole harbour is covered with sea weeds, especially near the shore, by which means the boats found it difficult to land; they are of no other service than to break the force of the waters when the sea runs very high. We hoped to make a good use of them by employing them for a manure. The tides brought us several species of coralines, which were very much varied, and of the finest colours; these, together with the spunges and shells, have deserved places in the cabinets of the curious. All the spunges have the figure of plants, and are branched in so many different ways, that we could hardly believe them to be the work of marine insects. Their texture is so compact, and their fibres so delicate, that it is inconceivable how these animals can lodge in them.
The coasts of the Malouines have provided the collections in Europe with several new shells; the most curious of which, is that called la poulette. There are three sorts of this bivalve; and among them the striated one had never before been seen, except in the fossil state; this may prove the assertion, that the fossil-shells, found much below the level of the sea, are not lusus naturæ, and accidentally formed; but that they have really been inhabited by living animals, at the time when the land was covered by the water. Along with this shell, which is very common here, there are limpets[[24]]; esteemed on account of their fine colours; whelks[[25]], of several kinds; scallops[[26]]; great striated and smooth muscle-shells[[27]], and the finest mother of pearl.
Animals.
There is only a single species of quadruped upon these islands; it is a medium between the wolf and the fox. The land and water-fowls are innumerable. The sea-lions and seals are the only amphibia. All the coasts abound with fish, most of them little known. The whales keep in the open sea; some of them happen now and then to be stranded in the bays, and their remains are sometimes seen there. Some other bones of an enormous size, a good way up in the country, whither the force of the waves could never carry them, prove that either the sea is diminished, or that the soil is encreased.
The wolf-fox, (loup-renard) thus called, on account of its digging a kennel under ground, and having a more bushy tail than a wolf, lives upon the downs along the sea-shore. It attacks the wild fowls; and makes its roads from one bay to another, with so much sagacity, that they are always the shortest that can be devised; and, at our first landing on the isle, we had almost no doubt of their being the paths of inhabitants. It seems this animal fasts during a time of the year; for it is then vastly lean. Its size and make is that of a common shepherd’s dog; and it barks in the same manner, though not so loud. In what manner can it have been transported to these islands[[28]]?
The birds and fish have enemies, which endanger their tranquility. These enemies of the birds are the above kind of wolf, which destroys many of their eggs and young ones; the eagles, hawks, falcons, and owls.
The fish are still worse used; without mentioning the whales, which feeding, as is well known, upon fry only, destroy prodigious numbers; they are likewise exposed to the amphibious creatures, and to birds; some of which are always watching on the rocks, whilst others constantly skim along the surface of the sea.
It would require a great deal of time, and the eyes of an able naturalist, in order to describe the following animals well. I shall here give the most essential observations, and extend them only to such animals as were of some utility.
Web-footed birds.
Among the web-footed birds, the swan is the first in order; it only differs from the European one by its neck; which is of a velvet black, and makes an admirable contrast with the whiteness of the rest of its body; its feet are flesh-coloured. This kind of swan is likewise to be found in Rio de la Plata, and in the straits of Magalhaens.
Four species of wild-geese made part of our greatest riches. The first only feeds on dry land; and has, improperly, been called bustard[[29]]. Its high legs serve to elevate it above the tall grass, and its long neck to observe any danger. It walks and flies with great ease; and has not that disagreeable cackling cry, peculiar to the rest of its kind. The plumage of the male is white, mixed with black and ash-colour on the wings. The female is yellow; and its wings are adorned with changing colours; it generally lays six eggs. Its flesh is wholesome, nourishing, and palatable; it seldom happened that we had any scarcity of this kind of geese; for, besides these which are bred in the isle, they come in great flocks in autumn, with the east wind, probably from some uninhabited country. The sportsmen easily distinguish these new-comers, by the little fear they shew of men. The other three species are not so much in request; for they feed on fish, and get a trainy taste. Their figure is not so elegant as that of the first species; one of these kinds seldom rises above the water, and is very noisy. The colours of their feathers are chiefly white, black, yellow, and ash-colour. All these species, and likewise the swan, have a soft down under the feathers; which is white or grey, and very thick.
Two kinds of ducks, and two of teals, frequent the ponds and rivers. The former are but little different from those of our climate; some of those which we killed, were quite black, and others quite white. As to the teals, the one has a blue bill, and is of the size of the ducks; the other is much less. Some of them had the feathers on the belly of a flesh colour. These species are in great plenty, and of an excellent taste.
Here are two kinds of Divers, of a small size. One of them has a grey back, and white belly; the feathers on the belly are so silky, shining, and close, that we imagined these were the birds, of whose plumage the fine muffs are made: this species is here scarce[[30]]. The other, which is more common, is quite brown, but somewhat paler on the belly than on the back. The eyes of these creatures are like rubies. Their surprising liveliness is heightened and set off still more by the circle of white feathers that surrounds them; and has caused the name of Diver with Spectacles to be given to the bird. They breed two young ones at a time, which are probably too tender to suffer the coldness of the water, whilst they have nothing but their down; for then the mother conveys them on her back[[31]]. These two species have not webbed feet, as the other water-fowl; but their toes are separate, with a strong membrane on each side; in this manner, each toe resembles a leaf, which is roundish towards the claw; and the lines, which run from the toe to the circumference of the membrane, together with its green-colour and thinness, increase the resemblance.
Two species of birds, which were called by our people saw-bills[[32]], I know not for what reason, only differed from each other in size, and sometimes because there were now and then some with brown bellies; whereas, the general colour of that part, in other birds of the kind, was white. The rest of the feathers are of a very dark blueish-black; in consequence of their shape, and the close texture and silkiness of their vent feathers, we must rank them with the divers, though I cannot be positive in this respect. They have a pointed bill, and the feet webbed without any separation between the toes; the first toe, being the longest of the three, and the membrane which joins them, ending in nothing at the third toe, gives a very remarkable character. Their feet are flesh-coloured[[33]]. These birds destroy numbers of fish; they place themselves upon the rocks, join together by numerous families, and lay their eggs there. As their flesh is very good to eat, we killed two or three hundred of them at a time; and the abundance of their eggs offered another resource to supply our wants. They were so little afraid of our sportsmen, that it was sufficient to go against them with no better arms than sticks. Their enemy is a bird of prey, with webbed feet; measuring near seven feet from tip to tip, and having a long and strong bill, distinguished by two tubes of the same substance as the bill itself, which are hollow throughout. This is the bird which the Spaniards call Quebrantahuessos[[34]].
A great quantity of mews, variously and prettily marked, of gulls and of terns, almost all of them grey, and living in families, come skimming along the water, and fall upon the fish with extraordinary quickness; they were so far of use to us, that they shewed us the proper season of catching pilchards; they held them suspended in the air for a moment only, and then presently gave back entire, the fish they had swallowed just before. At other seasons they feed upon a little fish, called gradeau, and some other small fry. They lay their eggs in great quantities round the marshes, on some green plants, pretty like the water lily[[35]], and they were very wholesome food.
We found three species of penguins: the first of them is remarkable on account of its shape, and the beauty of its plumage, and does not live in families as the second species, which is the same with that described in Lord Anson’s Voyage[[36]]. The penguin of the first class is fond of solitude and retired places. It has a peculiar noble and magnificent appearance, having an easy gait, a long neck when singing or crying, a longer and more elegant bill than the second sort, the back of a more blueish cast, the belly of a dazzling white, and a kind of palatine or necklace of a bright yellow, which comes down on both sides of the head, as a boundary between the blue and the white, and joins on the belly[[37]]. We hoped to be able to bring one of them over to Europe. It was easily tamed so far as to follow and know the person that had the care of feeding it: flesh, fish, and bread, were its food; but we perceived that this food was not sufficient, and that it absorbed the fatness of the bird; accordingly, when the bird was grown lean to a certain degree, it died. The third sort of penguins live in great flocks or families like the second; they inhabit the high cliffs, where we found the saw-bills (becs-scies), and they lay their eggs there. Their distinguishing characters are, the smallness of their size, their dark yellow colour, a tuft of gold-yellow feathers, which are shorter than those of the egret[[38]], and which they raise when provoked, and lastly, some other feathers of the same colour, which stand in the place of eye-brows; our people called them hopping penguins, because they chiefly advance by hopping and flapping. This species carries greater air of liveliness in its countenance than the two others[[39]].
Three species of petrels, (alcyons) which appear but seldom, did not forebode any tempests, as those do which are seen at sea. They are however the same birds, as our sailors affirmed, and the least species has all the characters of it. Though this may be the true alcyons[[40]], yet so much is certain, that they build their nests on shore, whence we have had their young ones covered only with down, but perfectly like their parents in other respects. The second sort only differs from them in size, being somewhat less than a pigeon. These two species are black, with some white feathers on the belly[[41]]. The third sort was at first called white-pigeon, on account of its feathers being all of that colour, and its bill being red: there is reason to suppose it is a true white alcyon, on account of its conformity with the other species.
Birds with cloven feet.
Three sorts of eagles, of which the strongest have a dirty white, and the others a black plumage, with yellow and white feet, attack the snipes and little birds; neither their size nor the strength of their claws allowing them to fall upon others. A number of sparrow hawks and falcons, together with some owls, are the other enemies of the fowl. Their plumage is rich, and much varied in colour.
The snipes are the same as the European ones; they do not fly irregularly when they rise, and are easy to be shot. In the breeding season they soar to a prodigious height; and after singing and discovering their nest, which they form without precaution in the midst of the fields, on spots where hardly any plants grow, they fall down upon it from the height they had risen to before; at this season they are poor; the best time for eating them is in autumn.
In summer we saw many curlews, which were not at all different from ours.
Throughout the whole year we saw a bird pretty like a curlew on the sea-side; it was called a sea-pie[[42]], on account of its black and white plumage; its other characteristics are, a bill of the colour of red coral, and white feet. It hardly ever leaves the rocks, which are dry at low water, and lives upon little shrimps. It makes a whistling noise, easy to be imitated, which proved useful to our sportsmen, and pernicious to the bird.
Egrets are pretty common here; at first we took them for common herons, not knowing the value of their plumes. These birds begin to feed towards night; they have a harsh barking noise, which we often took for the noise of the wolf we have mentioned before.
Two sorts of stares or thrushes came to us every autumn; a third species remained here constantly, it was called the red bird[[43]]; its belly is quite covered with feathers of a beautiful fiery red, especially during winter; they might be collected, and would make very rich tippets. One of the two remaining species is yellow, with black spots on the belly, the other has the colour of our common thrushes. I shall not give any particular account of an infinite number of little birds, that are pretty like those seen in the maritime provinces of France.
Amphibious creatures.
The sea-lions and seals are already known; these animals occupy the sea-shore, and lodge, as I have before mentioned, among the tall plants, called gladioli[[44]]. They go up a league into the country in innumerable herds, in order to enjoy the fresh herbs, and to bask in the sun. It seems the sea-lion described in Lord Anson’s Voyage ought, on account of its snout, to be looked upon as a kind of marine elephant, especially as he has no mane; is of an amazing size, being sometimes twenty-two feet long, and as there is another species much inferior in size, without any snout, and having a mane of longer hairs than those on the rest of the body, which therefore should be considered as the true sea-lion[[45]]. The seal (loup marin) has neither mane nor snout; thus all the three species are easily distinguished. Under the hair of all these creatures, there is no such down as is found in those caught in North America and Rio de la Plata. Their grease or train oil, and their skins, might form a branch of commerce.
Fish.
We have not found a great variety of species of fish. That sort which we caught most frequently, we called mullet[[46]], to which it bears some resemblance. Some of them were three feet long, and our people dried them. The fish called gradeau is very common, and sometimes found above a foot long. The sardine only comes in the beginning of winter. The mullets being pursued by the seals, dig holes in the slimy ground, on the banks of the rivulets, where they take shelter, and we took them without difficulty, by taking off the layer of mud that covered their retreats. Besides these species, a number of other very small ones were taken with a hook and line, and among them was one which was called a transparent pike[[47]]. Its head is shaped like that of our pike, the body without scales, and perfectly diaphanous. There are likewise some congers on the rocks, and the white porpesse, called la taupe, or the mole, appears in the bays during the fine season. If we had had time, and men enough to spare, for the fishery at sea, we should have found many other fish, and certainly some soals, of which a few have been found, thrown upon the sands. Only a single sort of fresh water fish, without scales, has been taken; it is of a green colour, and of the size of a common trout[[48]]. It is true, we have made but few researches in this particular, we had but little time; and other fish in abundance.
Crustaceous fish.
Here have been found only three small sorts of crustacea; viz. the cray-fish, which is red, even before it is boiled, and is properly a prawn; the crab, with blue feet, resembling pretty much that called tourelourou, and a minute species of shrimp. These three crustacea, and all muscles, and other shell fish, were only picked up for curiosity’s sake, for they have not so good a taste as those in France.——This land seems to be entirely deprived of oysters.
Lastly, by way of forming a comparison with some cultivated isle in Europe, I shall quote what Puffendorf says of Ireland, which is situated nearly in the same latitude in the northern hemisphere, as the Malouines in the southern one, viz. “that this island is pleasant on account of the healthiness and serenity of the air, and because heat and cold are never excessive there. The land being well divided by lakes and rivers, offers great plains, covered with excellent pasture, has no venemous creatures, its lakes and rivers abound with fish, &c.” See the Universal History.
CHAP. V.
Navigation from the Malouines to Rio-Janeiro; junction of the Boudeuse with the Etoile.—Hostilities of the Portuguese against the Spaniards. Revenues of the king of Portugal from Rio-Janeiro.
1767. June.
Departure from the Malouines for Rio-Janeiro.
I waited, in vain, for the Etoile, at the Malouines; the months of March and April had passed, and that store-ship did not arrive. I could not attempt to traverse the Pacific Ocean with my frigate alone; as she had no more room than what would hold six months provision for the crew. I still waited for the store-ship, during May. Then seeing that I had only two months provisions, I left the Malouines the second of June, in order to go to Rio-Janeiro; which I had pointed out as a rendezvous to M. de la Giraudais, commander of the Etoile, in case some circumstances should prevent his coming to join me at the Malouines.
During this navigation, we had very fair weather. The 20th of June, in the afternoon, we saw the high head-lands of the Brasils; and, on the 21st, we discovered the entrance of Rio-Janeiro. Along the coast we saw several fishing-boats. I ordered Portuguese colours to be hoisted, and fired a cannon: upon this signal one of the boats came on board, and I took a pilot to bring us into the road. He made us run along the coast, within half a league of the isles which lie along it. We found many shoals every where. The coast is high, hilly, and woody; it is divided into little detached and perpendicular hillocks, which vary their prospect. At half an hour past five, in the afternoon, we were got within the fort of Santa-Cruz; from whence we were hailed; and at the same time a Portugueze officer came on board, to ask the reason of our entering into port. I sent the chevalier Bournand with him, to inform the count d’ Acunha, viceroy of the Brasils, of it, and to treat about the salute. At half an hour past seven, we anchored in the road, in eight fathoms water, and black muddy bottom.
Discussion concerning the salute.
The chevalier de Bournand returned soon after; and told me, that, concerning the salute, the count d’ Acunha had answered him, that if a person, meeting another in a street, took off his hat to him, he did not before inform himself, whether or no this civility would be returned; that if we saluted the place, he would consider what he should do. As this answer was not a sufficient one, I did not salute. |Junction with the Etoile.| I heard at the same time, by means of a canoe, which M. de la Giraudais sent to me, that he was in this port; that his departure from Rochefort, which should have been in December, had been retarded till the beginning of February; that after three months sailing, the water which his ship made, and the bad condition of her rigging, had forced him to put in at Montevideo, where he had received information concerning my voyage, by means of the Spanish frigates returning from the Malouines; and he had immediately set sail for Rio-Janeiro, where he had been at anchor for six days.
This junction enabled me to continue my expedition; though the Etoile, bringing me upwards of fifteen months salt provisions and liquor, had hardly for fifty days bread and legumes to give me. The want of these indispensable provisions, obliging me to return and get some in Rio de la Plata; as we found at Rio-Janeiro, neither biscuit, nor wheat, nor flour.
Difficulties raised by the Portuguese against a Spanish ship.
There were, at this time, two vessels in this port which interested us; the one a French, and the other a Spanish one. The former, called l’Etoile du Matin, or the Morning Star, was the king’s ship bound for India; which, on account of its smallness, could not undertake to double the Cape of Good Hope during winter; and, therefore, came hither to wait the return of the fair season. The Spanish vessel was a man of war, of seventy-four guns, named the Diligent, commanded by Don Francesco de Medina. Having sailed from the river of Plata, with a cargo of skins and piastres; a leak which his ship had sprung, much below her water-line, had obliged him to bring her hither, in order to refit her for the voyage to Europe. He had been here eight months; and the refusal of necessary assistance, and the difficulties which the viceroy laid in his way, had prevented his finishing the repair: |Assistance which we gave her.| accordingly, Don Francisco sent the same evening that I arrived, to beg for my carpenters and caulkers; and the next morning I sent them to him from both the vessels.
The viceroy visits us on board the frigate.
The 22d we went in a body to pay a visit to the viceroy; he came and returned it on the 25th; and, when he left us, I saluted him with nineteen guns, which were returned from the shore. On this visit, he offered us all the assistance in his power; and even granted me the leave I asked, of buying a sloop, which would have been very useful, during the course of my expedition; and, he added, that if there had been one belonging to the king of Portugal, he would have offered it me. He likewise assured me, that he would make the most exact enquiries, in order to discover those, who, under the very windows of his palace, had murdered the chaplain of the Etoile, a few days before our arrival; and that he would proceed with them according to the utmost severity of the law. He promised justice; but the law of nations was very ineffectually executed at this place.
However, the viceroy’s civilities towards us continued for several days: he even told us his intention of giving us a petit souper, or collation, by the water-side, in bowers of jasmine and orange-trees; and he ordered a box to be prepared for us at the opera. We saw, in a tolerable handsome hall, the best works of Metastasio represented by a band of mulattoes; and heard the divine composition of the great Italian masters, executed by an orchestra, which was under the direction of a hump-backed priest, in his canonicals.
The favour which we enjoyed, occasioned great matter of astonishment to the Spaniards, and even to the people of the country; who told us, that their governor’s proceedings would not be the same for a long time. Indeed, whether the assistance we gave the Spaniards, and our own connections with them displeased him, or whether he could no longer feign a conduct, so diametrically opposite to his natural temper, he soon became, in regard to us, what he had been to every body else.
Hostilities of the Portugueze against the Spaniards.
The 28th of June, we heard that the Portuguese had surprised and attacked the Spaniards at Rio-Grande; that they had driven them from a station which they occupied on the left shore of that river; and that a Spanish ship, touching at the isle of St. Catherine, had been detained there. They fitted out here, with great expedition, the San Sebastiano, of sixty-four guns, built here; and a frigate, mounting forty guns, called Nossa Senhora da Gracia. This last was destined, it was said, to escort a convoy of troops and ammunition to Rio-Grande, and to the colony of Santo Sacramento. These hostilities and preparations gave us reason to apprehend that the viceroy intended to stop the Diligent; which was careening upon the isle das Cobras, and we accelerated her refitment as much as possible. |1767. July.| She really was ready on the last day of June, and began to take in the skins, which were part of her lading; but on the sixth of July, when she wanted to take back her cannon, which, during the repair, had been deposited on the isle das Cobras, the viceroy forbade their being delivered; and declared, that he arrested the ship, till he had received the orders of his court, on the subject of the hostilities committed at Rio-Grande. In vain did Don Medina take all the necessary steps on this occasion; count d’Acunha would not so much as receive the letter, which the Spanish commander sent him by an officer, from on board his ship.
Bad proceedings of the viceroy towards us.
We partook of the disgrace of our allies. Having, upon the repeated leave of the viceroy, concluded the bargain for buying a snow, his excellency forbade the seller to deliver it to me. He likewise gave orders, that we should not be allowed the necessary timber out of the royal dock-yards, for which we had already agreed: he then refused me the permission of lodging with my officers, (during the time that the frigate underwent some essential repairs) in a house near the town, offered me by its proprietor: and which commodore Byron had occupied in 1765, when he touched at this port. On this account, and likewise upon his refusing me the snow and the timber, I wanted to make some remonstrances to him. He did not give me time to do it; and, at the first words I uttered, he rose in a furious passion, and ordered me to go out; and being certainly piqued, that, in spite of his anger, I remained sitting with two officers, who accompanied me, he called his guards; but they, wiser than himself, did not come, and we retired; so that nobody seemed to have been disturbed. We were hardly gone, when the guards of his palace were doubled, and orders given to arrest all the French that should be found in the streets after sun-setting. He likewise sent word to the captain of the French ship of four guns, to go and anchor under the fort of Villagahon; and the next morning I got her towed there by my boats.
They determine us to leave Rio-Janeiro.
From hence forward, I was intent upon my departure; especially as the inhabitants, with whom we had any intercourse of trade, must fear every thing from the viceroy. Two Portuguese officers became the victims of the civility they shewed us; the one was imprisoned in the citadel; the other exiled to Santa, a small town between St. Catherine and Rio-Grande. I made haste to take in our water, to get the most necessary provisions out of the Etoile, and to embark refreshments. I had been forced to enlarge our tops; and the Spanish captain furnished me with the necessary timber for that purpose, which had been refused us out of the docks. I likewise got some planks, which we could not do without; and which were sold to us secretly.
At last, on the 12th, every thing being ready, I sent an officer to let the viceroy know, I should weigh with the first fair wind. I advised M. d’Etcheveri, who commanded l’Etoile du Matin, (the Morning-Star) to stop at Rio-Janeiro as little as he could; and rather to employ the time that remained, till the favourable season for doubling the Cape of Good Hope came on, in going to survey the isles of Tristan d’Acunha, where he would find wood, water, and abundance of fish; and I gave him some memoirs I had concerning these isles. I have since heard, that he has followed my advice.
During our stay at Rio-Janeiro, we enjoyed one of the springs, which are obvious in poetical descriptions; and the inhabitants testified, in the most genteel manner, the displeasure which their viceroy’s bad proceedings against us, gave them. We were sorry, that it was not in our power to stay any longer with them. The Brasils, and the capital in it, have been described by so many authors, that I could mention nothing, without tediously repeating what has been said before. Rio-Janeiro has once been conquered by France; and is, of course, well known there. I will confine myself to give an account of the riches, of which that city is the staple[[49]]; and of the revenues which the king of Portugal gets from thence. I must previously mention, that M. de Commerçon, an able naturalist, who came with us on board the Etoile, in order to go on the expedition, assured me, that this was the richest country in plants he had ever met with; and that it had supplied him with whole treasures in botany.
Account of the riches of Rio-Janeiro.
Rio-Janeiro is the emporium and principal staple of the rich produce of the Brasils. The mines, which are called general, are the nearest to the city; being about seventy-five leagues distant. They annually bring in to the king, for his fifth part, at least one hundred and twelve arobas of gold; in 1762 they brought in a hundred and nineteen. Under the government of the general mines, are comprehended those of Rio das Mortes, of Sabara, and of Sero-frio. The last place, besides gold, produces all the diamonds that come from the Brasils. They are in the bed of a river; which is led aside, in order afterwards to separate the diamonds, topazes, chrysolites, and other stones of inferior goodness, from the pebbles, among which they ly.
Regulations for examining the mines.
All these stones, diamonds excepted, are not contraband: they belong to the possessors of the mines; but they are obliged to give a very exact account of the diamonds they find; and to put them into the hands of a surveyor[[50]], whom the king appoints for this purpose. |Mines of diamonds.| The surveyor immediately deposits them in a little casket, covered with plates of iron, and locked up by three locks. He has one of the keys, the viceroy the other, and the Provador de Hazienda Reale the third. This casket is inclosed in another, on which are the seals of the three persons above mentioned, and which contains the three keys to the first. The viceroy is not allowed to visit its contents; he only places the whole in a third coffer, which he sends to Lisbon, after putting his seal on it. It is opened in the king’s presence; he chooses the diamonds which he likes out of it; and pays their price to the possessors of the mines, according to a tariff settled in their charter.
The possessors of the mines pay the value of a Spanish piastre or dollar per day to his Most Faithful Majesty, for every slave sent out to seek diamonds; the number of these slaves amounts to eight hundred. Of all the contraband trades, that of diamonds is most severely punished. If the smuggler is poor, he loses his life; if his riches are sufficient to satisfy what the law exacts, besides the confiscation of the diamonds, he is condemned to pay double their value, to be imprisoned for one year, and then exiled for life to the coast of Africa. Notwithstanding this severity, the smuggling trade with diamonds, even of the most beautiful kind, is very extensive; so great is the hope and facility of hiding them, on account of the little room they take up.
Gold-mines.
All the gold which is got out of the mines cannot be sent to Rio Janeiro, without being previously brought into the houses, established in each district, where the part belonging to the crown is taken. What belongs to private persons is returned to them in wedges, with their weight, their number, and the king’s arms stamped upon them. All this gold is assayed by a person appointed for that purpose, and on each wedge or ingot, the alloy of the gold is marked, that it may afterwards be easy to bring them all to the same alloy for the coinage.
These ingots belonging to private persons are registered in the office of Praybuna, thirty leagues from Rio Janeiro. At this place is a captain, a lieutenant, and fifty men: there the tax of one fifth part is paid, and further, a poll-tax of a real and a half per head, of men, cattle, and beasts of burden. One half of the produce of this tax goes to the king, and the other is divided among the detachment, according to the rank. As it is impossible to come back from the mines without passing by this station, the soldiers always stop the passengers, and search them with the utmost rigour.
The private people are then obliged to bring all the ingots of gold which fall to their share, to the mint at Rio Janeiro, where they get the value of it in cash: this commonly consists of demi-doubloons, worth eight Spanish dollars. Upon each demi-doubloon, the king gets a piastre or dollar for the alloy, and for the coinage. The mint at Rio Janeiro is one of the finest buildings existing. It is furnished with all the conveniences necessary towards working with the greatest expedition. As the gold comes from the mines at the same time that the fleets come from Portugal, the coinage must be accelerated, and indeed they coin there with amazing quickness.
The arrival of these fleets, and especially of that from Lisbon, renders the commerce of Rio Janeiro very flourishing. The fleet from Porto is laden only with wines, brandy, vinegar, victuals, and some coarse cloths, manufactured in and about that town. As soon as the fleets arrive, all the goods they bring are conveyed to the custom-house, where they pay a duty of ten per cent to the king. It must be observed that the communication between the colony of Santo Sacramento and Buenos Ayres being entirely cut off at present, that duty must be considerably lessened; for the greater part of the most precious merchandizes which arrived from Europe were sent from Rio Janeiro to that colony, from whence they were smuggled through Buenos Ayres to Peru and Chili; and this contraband trade was worth a million and a half of piastres or dollars annually to the Portuguese. In short, the mines of the Brasils produce no silver, and all that which the Portuguese got, came from this smuggling trade. The negro trade was another immense object. The loss which the almost entire suppression of this branch of contraband trade occasions, cannot be calculated. This branch alone employed at least thirty coasting vessels between the Brasils and Rio de la Plata.
Revenues of the king of Portugal from Rio Janeiro.
Besides the old duty of ten per cent which is paid at the royal custom-house, there is another duty of two and a half per cent, laid on the goods as a free gift, on account of the unfortunate event which happened at Lisbon in 1755. This duty must be paid down at the custom-house immediately, whereas for the tenth, you may have a respite of six months, on giving good security.
The mines of S. Paolo and Parnagua pay the king four arrobas as his fifth, in common years. The most distant mines, which are those of Pracaton and Quiaba, depend upon the government[[51]] of Maragrosso. The fifth of these mines is not received at Rio Janeiro, but that of the mines of Goyas is. This government has likewise mines of diamonds, but it is forbidden to search in them.
All the expences of the king of Portugal at Rio Janeiro, for the payment of the troops and civil officers, the carrying on of the mines, keeping the public buildings in repair, and refitting of ships, amount to about six hundred thousand piastres. I do not speak of the expence he may be at in constructing ships of the line and frigates, which he has lately begun to do here.
A summary account, and the amount of the separate articles of the king’s revenue, taken at a medium in Spanish dollars.
| Dollars. | |
| One hundred and fifty arrobas of gold, of which in common years all the fifths amount to | 1,125,000 |
| The duty on diamonds | 240,000 |
| The duty on the coinage | 400,000 |
| Ten per cent. of the custom-house | 350,000 |
| Two and a half per cent. free gift | 87,000 |
| Poll tax, sale of employs, offices, and other products of the mines | 225,000 |
| The duty on negroes | 110,000 |
| The duty on train-oil, salt, soap, and the tenth on the victuals of the country | 130,000 |
| Total in dollars or piasters | 2,667,000 |
From whence, if you deduct the expences above mention ed, it will appear that the king of Portugal’s revenues from Rio Janeiro, amount to upwards of ten millions of our money (livres[[52]]).
CHAP. VI.
Departure from Rio Janeiro: second voyage to Montevideo:
damage which the Etoile receives there.
The 14th of July we weighed from Rio Janeiro, but for want of wind we were obliged to come to an anchor again in the road. |1767. July.| We sailed on the 15th, and two days after, the frigate being a much better sailer than the Etoile, I was obliged to unrig my top-gallant masts, as our lower masts required a careful management. |Departure from Rio Janeiro.| The winds were variable, but brisk, and the sea very high. In the night between the 19th and 20th, we lost our main-top-sail, which was carried away on its clue-lines. |Eclipse of the sun.| The 25th there was an eclipse of the sun, visible to us. I had on board my ship M. Verron, a young astronomer, who came from France in the Etoile, with a view to try, during the voyage, some methods towards finding the longitude at sea.
According to our estimation of the ship’s place, the moment of immersion, as calculated by the astronomer, was to be on the 25th, at four hours nineteen minutes in the evening. At four hours and six minutes, a cloud prevented our seeing the sun, and when we got sight of him again, at four hours thirty-one minutes, about an inch and a half was already eclipsed. Clouds successively passed over the sun’s disk, and let us see him only at very short intervals, so that we were not able to observe any of the phases of the eclipse, and consequently could not conclude our longitude from it. The sun set to us before the moment of apparent conjunction, and we reckoned that that of immersion had been at four hours twenty-three minutes.
Entrance into Rio de la Plata.
On the 26th we came into soundings; the 28th in the morning we discovered the Castilles. This part of the coast is pretty high, and is to be seen at ten or twelve leagues distance. We discovered the entrance to a bay, which probably is the harbour where the Spaniards have a fort, and where I have been told there is very bad anchorage. The 29th we entered Rio de la Plata, and saw the Maldonados. We advanced but little this day and the following. Almost the whole night between the 30th and 31st we were becalmed, and sounded constantly. The current set to the north-westward, which was pretty near the situation of the isle of Lobos. At half an hour past one after midnight, having sounded, thirty-three fathoms, I thought I was very near the isle, and gave the signal for casting anchor. At half past three we weighed, and saw the isle of Lobos in N. E. about a league and a half distant. The wind was S. and S. E. weak at first, but blew more fresh towards sun-rising, and we anchored in the bay of Montevideo the 31st in the afternoon. We had lost much time on account of the Etoile; because, besides the advantage of our being better sailers, that store-ship, which at leaving Rio Janeiro made four inches of water every hour, after a few days sail made seven inches in the same space of time, which did not allow her to crowd her sails.
Second time of touching at Montevideo.
News which we hear at this place.
We were hardly moored, when an officer came on board, being sent by the governor of Montevideo, to compliment us on our arrival, and informed us that orders had been received from Spain to arrest all the Jesuits, and to seize their effects: that the ship which brought these dispatches had carried away forty fathers of that community, destined for the missions: that the order had already been executed in the principal houses without any difficulty or resistance; and that, on the contrary, these fathers bore their disgrace with resignation and moderation. I shall soon enter into a more circumstantial account of this great transaction, of which I have been able to obtain full information, by my long stay at Buenos Ayres, and the confidence with which the governor-general Don Francisco Bukarely[[53]] honoured me.
1767.
August.
As we were to stay in Rio de la Plata till after the equinox, we took lodgings at Montevideo, where we settled our workmen, and made an hospital. This having been our first care, I went to Buenos Ayres, on the 11th of August, to accelerate our being furnished with the necessary provisions, by the provider-general of the king of Spain; at the same price as he had agreed to deliver them to his Catholic Majesty. I likewise wanted to have a conference with M. de Buccarelli, on the subject of what had happened at Rio-Janeiro; though I had already, by express, sent him the dispatches from Don Francisco de Madina. I found he had prudently resolved to content himself with sending an account of the hostilities of the viceroy of the Brasils to Europe, and not to make any reprisals. It would have been easy to him, to have taken the colony of Santo Sacramento in a few days; especially as that place was in want of every necessary, and had not yet obtained, in November, the convoy of articles and ammunition that were preparing to be sent thither, when we left Rio-Janeiro.
The governor-general made every thing as convenient as possible, towards quickly making up our wants. At the end of August, two schooners, laden with biscuit and flour for us, sailed for Montevideo; whither I likewise went to celebrate the day of St. Louis. I left the chevalier du Bouchage, an under-lieutenant, at Buenos Ayres, in order to get the remainder of our provisions on board; and to take care of our affairs there till our departure; which, I hoped, would be towards the end of September. I could not foresee that an accident would detain us six weeks longer. |Damage which the Etoile receives.| In a hurricane, blowing hard at S. W. the San Fernando, a register-ship, which was at anchor near the Etoile, dragged her anchors, ran foul of the Etoile at night; and, at the first shock, broke her bowsprit level with the deck. Afterwards the knee and rails of her head were carried away; and it was lucky that they separated, notwithstanding the bad weather, and the obscurity of the night, without being more damaged.
1767.
September.
This accident greatly enlarged the leaks in the Etoile, which she had had from the beginning of her voyage. It now became absolutely necessary to unload this vessel, if not to heave her down[[54]], in order to discover and stop this leak, which seemed to lie very low, and very forward. This operation could not be performed at Montevideo; where, besides, there was not timber sufficient to repair the masts; I therefore wrote to the chevalier du Bouchage, to represent our situation to the marquis de Buccarelli; and to obtain, that by his leave the Etoile might be allowed to come up the river, and to go into the Encenada de Baragan; I likewise gave him orders to send timber and the other materials, which we should want thither. The governor-general consented to our demands; and, the 7th of September, not being able to find any pilot, | Navigation from Montevideo[Montevideo] to Baragan.| I went on board the Etoile, with the carpenters and caulkers of the Boudeuse, in order to sail the next morning, and undertake in person a navigation, which we were told was very hazardous. Two register-ships; the San-Fernando and the Carmen, provided with a pilot, were ready the same day, to sail for Montevideo to Encenada; and I intended to follow them; but the San-Fernando, which had got the pilot, named Philip, on board, weighed in the night, between the seventh and eighth, purely with a view of hiding his track from us; and left her companion in the same distress. However, we sailed on the eighth in the morning, preceded by our canoes; the Carman remaining to wait for a schooner to direct her route. In the evening we reached the San-Fernando, passed by her; and, on the tenth in the afternoon, we came to an anchor in the road of the Encenada: Philip, who was a bad pilot, and a wicked fellow, always steering in our water.
In this road I found the Venus frigate of twenty-six guns, and some merchant-ships; which were bound, together with her, to sail directly for Europe. I likewise found there la Esmeralda, and la Liebre; who were preparing to return to the Malouines, with provisions and ammunitions of all sorts; from whence they were to sail for the South Seas, in order to take in the Jesuits of Chili and Peru. There was likewise the xebeck[[55]] el Andaluz; which arrived from Ferrol, at the end of July, in company with another xebeck, named el Aventurero; but the latter was lost on the point of what is called the English-Sand; and the crew had time to save their lives. The Andaluz was preparing to carry presents and missionaries to the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego; the king of Spain being desirous of testifying his gratitude to those people, for the services they rendered the Spaniards of the ship la Concepcion, which was lost on their coasts in 1765.
The Etoile goes to be repaired[repaired] there.
I went on shore at Baragan, whither the chevalier du Bouchage had already sent part of the timber we wanted. He found it very difficult and expensive to collect it at Buenos Ayres, in the king’s arsenal, and in some private timber-yards; the stores of both consisting of the timbers of such ships as were wrecked in the river. At Baragan we found no supplies; but, on the contrary, difficulties of many kinds; and every thing conspired to make all operations go on very slowly. The Encenada de Baragan is, indeed, merely a bad kind of bay, formed by the mouth of a little river, which is about a quarter of a league broad; but the depth of water is only in the middle, in a narrow channel; which is constantly filling more and more; and, in which, only ships drawing no more than twelve feet water can enter. In all the other parts of the river, there is not six inches of water during the ebb; but as the tides are irregular in Rio de la Plata; and the water sometimes high or low, for eight days together, according to the winds that blow, the landing of boats was connected with great difficulties. There are no magazines on shore; the houses, or rather huts, are but few, made of rushes, covered over with leather, and built without any regularity, on a barren soil; and their inhabitants are hardly able to get their subsistance; all which causes still more difficulties. The ships, which draw too much water to be able to enter this creek, must anchor at the point of Lara, a league and a half west. There they are exposed to all the winds; but the ground being very good for anchoring, they may winter there, though labouring under many inconveniences.
1767. October.
I left M. de la Giraudais, at the point of Lara, to take care of what related to his ship; and I went to Buenos Ayres, from whence I sent him a large schooner, by which he might heave down as soon as he came into the Encenada. For that purpose, it was necessary to unload part of the goods she had on board; and M. de Buccarelli gave us leave to deposit them on board the Esmeralda and the Liebre. The 8th of October the Etoile was able to go into port; and it appeared, that her repair would not take so much time as was at first expected. Indeed, they had hardly begun to unload her, when her leak diminished considerably; and she did not leak at all when she drew only eight feet of water forward. After taking up some planks of her sheathing, they saw that the seam of her entrance was entirely without oakum for the length of four feet and a half, from the depth of eight feet of her draught upwards. They discovered likewise two auger holes, into which they had not put the bolts. All these faults and damages being quickly repaired, new railing put on the head, a new bowsprit made and rigged, and the ship being new caulked all over, she returned to the point of Lara on the 21st, where she took in her lading again, from on board the Spanish frigates. In that road she likewise stowed the wood, flour, biscuit, and different provisions I sent her.
Departure of several vessels for Europe,
and arrival of others.
From thence, the Venus and four other vessels laden with leather, sailed for Cadiz, at the end of September, having on board two hundred and fifty Jesuits, and the French families from the Malouines, seven excepted, who having no room in these ships, were obliged to wait for another opportunity. The marquiss of Buccarelli transported them to Buenos Ayres, where he provided them with subsistence and lodgings. At the same time we got intelligence of the arrival of the Diamante, a register ship, bound for Buenos Ayres, and of the San-miguel, another register ship, bound for Lima. The situation of the last ship was very distressing: after struggling with the winds at Cape Horn during forty-five days, thirty-nine men of her crew being dead, and the others attacked by the scurvy, and a sea carrying away her rudder, she was obliged to bear away for this river, and arrived at the port of Maldonados seven months after leaving Cadiz, having no more than three sailors and a few officers that were able to do duty. At the request of the Spaniards we sent an officer with some sailors to bring her into the port of Montevideo. On the fifth of October the Spanish frigate la Aguila arrived there, having left Ferrol in March. She touched at the isle of St. Catherine, and the Portuguese had arrested her there at the same time that they stopped the Diligent at Rio Janeiro.
CHAP. VII.
Accounts of the missions in Paraguay, and the expulsion of the
Jesuits from that province.
Whilst we carried on our preparations for leaving Rio de la Plata, the marquiss of Buccarelli made some on his part to go on the Uraguai. The Jesuits had already been arrested in all the other provinces of his department; and this governor-general intended to execute the orders of his catholic majesty, in person, in the missions. It depended upon the first steps that were taken, either to make the people consent to the alterations that were going to be made, or to plunge them again into their former state of barbarism. But before I give an account of what I have seen of the catastrophe of this singular government, I must speak something of its origin, progress, and form. I shall speak of it sine irâ & studio, quorum causas procul habeo.
Date of the establishment of the missions.
In 1580 the Jesuits were first admitted into these fertile regions, where they have afterwards, in the reign of Philip the third, founded the famous missions, which in Europe go by the name of Paraguay, and in America, with more propriety, by that of Uraguay, from the river of that name, on which they are situated. They were always divided into colonies, which at first were weak and few, but by gradual progress have been encreased to the number of thirty-seven, viz. twenty-nine on the right side of the Uraguay, and eight on the left side, each of them governed by two Jesuits, in the habit of the order. Two motives, which sovereigns are allowed to combine, if they do not hurt each other, namely, religion and interest, made the Spanish monarch desirous of the conversion of the Indians; by making them catholics, they became civilized, and he obtained possession of a vast and abundant country; this was opening a new source of riches for the metropolis, and at the same time making proselytes to the true Deity. The Jesuits undertook to fulfil these projects; but they represented, that in order to facilitate the success of so difficult an enterprize, it was necessary they should be independent of the governors of the province, and that even no Spaniard should be allowed to come into the country.
Conditions agreed on between the court of Spain and the Jesuits.
The motive on which this demand was grounded, was, the fear lest the vices of the Europeans should diminish the ardour of their proselytes, or even remove them farther from Christianity; and likewise lest the Spanish haughtiness should render a yoke, already too heavy, insupportable to them. The court of Spain, approving of these reasons, ordered that the missionaries should not be controuled by the governor’s authority, and that they should get sixty thousand piastres a year from the royal treasure, for the expences of cultivation, on condition that as the colonies should be formed, and the lands be cultivated, the Indians should annually pay a piastre per head to the king, from the age of eighteen to sixty. It was likewise stipulated, that the missionaries should teach the Indians the Spanish language; but this clause it seems has not been executed.
Zeal and success of the missionaries.
The Jesuits entered upon this career[career] with the courage of martyrs, and the patience of angels. Both these qualifications were requisite to attract, retain, and use to obedience and labour, a race of savage, inconstant men, who were attached to their indolence and independence. The obstacles were infinite, the difficulties encreased at each step; but zeal got the better of every thing, and the kindness of the missionaries at last brought these wild, diffident inhabitants of the woods, to their feet. They collected them into fixed habitations, gave them laws, introduced useful and polite arts among them; and, in short, of a barbarous nation, without civilized manners, and without religious principles, they made a good-natured well governed people, who strictly observed the Christian ceremonies. These Indians, charmed with the persuasive eloquence of their apostles, willingly obeyed a set of men, who, they saw would sacrifice themselves for their happiness; accordingly, when they wanted to form an idea of the king of Spain, they represented him to themselves in the habit of the order of St. Ignatius.
Revolt of the Indians against the Spaniards.
However, there was a momentary revolt against his authority in the year 1757. The catholic king had exchanged the colonies on the left shore of the Uraguay against the colony of Santo Sacramento with the Portuguese. The desire of destroying the smuggling trade, which we have mentioned several times, had engaged the court of Madrid to this exchange. Thus the Uraguay became the boundary of the respective possessions of the two crowns. The Indians of the colonies, which had been ceded, were transported to the right hand shore, and they made them amends in money for their lost labour and transposition. |Causes of their discontent.| But these men, accustomed to their habitations, could not bear the thought of being obliged to leave the grounds, which were highly cultivated, in order to clear new ones. They took up arms: for long ago they had been allowed the use of them, to defend themselves from the incursions of the Paulists, a band of robbers, descended from Brasilians, and who had formed themselves into a republic towards the end of the sixteenth century. They revolted without any Jesuits ever heading them. It is however said, they were really kept in the revolted villages, to exercise their sacerdotal functions.
They take up arms and are defeated.
The governor-general of the province de la Plata, Don Joseph Andonaighi, marched against the rebels, and was followed by Don Joachim de Viana, governor of Montevideo. He defeated them in a battle, wherein upwards of two thousand Indians were slain. He then proceeded to conquer the country; and Don Joachim seeing what terror their first defeat had spread amongst them, resolved to subdue them entirely with six hundred men. He attacked the first colony, took possession of it without meeting any resistance; and that being taken, all the others submitted.
The disturbances are appeased.
At this time the court of Spain recalled Don Joseph Andonaighi, and Don Pedro Cevallos arrived at Buenos Ayres to replace him. Viana received orders at the same time to leave the missions, and bring back his troops. The intended exchange was now no longer thought of, and the Portuguese, who had marched against the Indians with the Spaniards, returned with them likewise. At the time of this expedition, the noise was spread in Europe of the election of king Nicholas, an Indian, whom indeed the rebels set up as a phantom of royalty.
Don Joachim de Viana told me, that when he received orders to leave the missions, a great number of Indians, discontented with the life they led, were willing to follow him. |The Indians appear disgusted with the administration of the Jesuits.| He opposed it, but could not hinder seven families from accompanying him; he settled them at the Maldonados, where, at present, they are patterns of industry and labour. I was surprised at what he told me concerning this discontent of the Indians. How is it possible to make it agree with all I had read of the manner in which they are governed? I should have quoted the laws of the missions as a pattern of an administration instituted with a view to distribute happiness and wisdom among men.
Indeed, if one casts a general view at a distance upon this magic government, founded by spiritual arms only, and united only by the charms of persuasion, what institution can be more honourable to human nature? It is a society which inhabits a fertile land, in a happy climate, of which, all the members are laborious, and none works for himself; the produce of the common cultivation is faithfully conveyed into public storehouses, from whence every one receives what he wants for his nourishment, dress, and house-keeping; the man who is in full vigour, feeds, by his labour, the new-born infant; and when time has consumed his strength, his fellow-citizens render him the same services which he did them before. The private houses are convenient, the public buildings fine; the worship uniform and scrupulously attended: this happy people knows neither the distinction of rank, nor of nobility, and is equally sheltered against super-abundance and wants.
The great distance and the illusion of perspective made the missions bear this aspect in my eyes, and must have appeared the same to every one else. But the theory is widely different from the execution of this plan of government. Of this I was convinced by the following accounts, which above a hundred ocular witnesses have unanimously given me.
Accounts of the interior government.
The extent of country in which the missions are situated, contains about two hundred leagues north and south, and about one hundred and fifty east and west, and the number of inhabitants is about three hundred thousand; the immense forests afford wood of all sorts; the vast pastures there, contain at least two millions of cattle; fine rivers enliven the interior parts of this country, and promote circulation and commerce throughout it. This is the situation of the country, but the question now is, how did the people live there? The country was, as has been told, divided into parishes, and each parish was directed by two Jesuits, of which, one was rector, and the other his curate. The whole expence for the maintenance of the colonies was but small, the Indians being fed, dressed, and lodged, by the labour of their own hands; the greatest costs were those of keeping the churches in repair, all which were built and adorned magnificently. The other products of the ground, and all the cattle, belonged to the Jesuits, who, on their part, sent for the instruments of various trades, for glass, knives, needles, images, chaplets of beads, gun-powder and muskets. Their annual revenues consisted in cotton, tallow, leather, honey, and above all, in maté, a plant better known by the name of Paraguay tea, or South-Sea tea, of which that company had the exclusive commerce, and of which likewise the consumption is immense in the Spanish possessions in America, where it is used instead of tea.
The Indians shewed so servile a submission to their rectors, that not only both men and women suffered the punishment of flagellation, after the manner of the college, for public offences, but they likewise came of themselves to sollicit this chastisement for mental faults. In every parish the fathers annually elected corrégidors, and their assistants, to take care of the minutiæ of the government. The ceremony of their election was performed on new year’s day, with great pomp, in the court before the church, and was announced by ringing of bells, and the playing of a band of music. The newly elected persons came to the feet of the father rector to receive the marks of their dignity, which however did not exempt them from being whipped like the others. Their greatest distinction was that of wearing habits, whereas, a shirt of cotton stuff was the only dress of the other Indians of both sexes. The feasts of the parish, and that of the rector, were likewise celebrated by public rejoicings, and even by comedies, which probably resembled those ancient pieces of ours, called mystéres or mysteries.
The rector lived in a great house near the church; adjoining to it were two buildings, in one of which were the schools for music, painting, sculpture, and architecture; and likewise, work-houses of different trades; Italy furnished them with masters to teach the arts, and the Indians, it is said, learn with facility: the other building contained a great number of young girls at work in several occupations, under the inspection of old women: this was named the guatiguasu, or the seminary. The apartment of the rector communicated internally with these two buildings.
This rector got up at five o’clock in the morning, employed an hour in holy meditation, and said his mass at half past six o’clock; they kissed his hands at seven o’clock, and then he publicly distributed an ounce of maté to every family. After mass, the rector breakfasted, said his breviary, conferred with the corregidors, four of whom were his ministers, and visited the seminary, the schools, and the work-shops. Whenever he went out, it was on horseback, and attended by a great retinue; he dined alone with his curate at eleven of the clock, then chatted till noon, and after that, made a siesta till two in the afternoon; he kept close in his interior appartments till it was prayer time, after which, he continued in conversation till seven in the evening; then the rector supped, and at eight he was supposed to be gone to bed.
From eight of the clock in the morning, the time of the people was taken up either in cultivating the ground, or in their work-shops, and the corregidors took care to see them employ their time well; the women spun cotton; they got a quantity of it every Monday, which they were obliged to bring back converted into spun yarn at the end of the week; at half an hour past five in the evening they came together to say the prayers of their rosary, and to kiss the hands of their rector once more, then came on the distribution of an ounce of maté and four pounds of beef for each family, which was supposed to consist of eight persons; at the same time they likewise got some maize. On Sundays they did no work; the divine worship took up more time; they were after that allowed to amuse themselves with plays as dull as the rest of their whole life.
Consequences drawn from it.
From this exact detail it appears that the Indians had in some manner no property, and that they were subject to a miserable, tedious uniformity of labour and repose. This tiresomeness, which may with great reason be called deadly or extreme, is sufficient to explain what has been told to us, that they quitted life without regret, and died without having ever lived or enjoyed life. When once they fell sick, it seldom happened that they recovered, and being then asked whether they were sorry to be obliged to die, they answered, no; and spoke it as people whose real sentiments coincide with their words. We can no longer be surprised, that when the Spaniards penetrated into the missions, this great people, which was governed like a convent, should shew an ardent desire of forcing the walls which confined them. The Jesuits represented the Indians, upon the whole, as men incapable of attaining a higher degree of knowledge than that of children; but the life they led, prevented these grown children from having the liveliness of little ones.
Expulsion of the Jesuits from the province of Plata.
The society were occupied with the care of extending their missions, when the unfortunate events happened in Europe, which overturned the work of so many years, and of so unwearied patience in the new world. The court of Spain having resolved upon the expulsion of the Jesuits, was desirous that this might be done at the same time throughout all its vast dominions. Cevallos was recalled from Buenos Ayres, and Don Francisco Buccarelli appointed to succeed him. |Measures taken at the court of Spain for this purpose.| He set out, being instructed in the business which he was intended for, and with orders to defer the execution of it till he received fresh orders, which would soon be sent him. The king’s confessor, the count d’Aranda, and some ministers, were the only persons to whom this secret affair was entrusted. Buccarelli made his entry at Buenos Ayres in the beginning of 1767.
Measures taken by the governor-general of the province.
When Don Pedro de Cevallos was arrived in Spain, a packet was dispatched to the marquis of Buccarelli, with orders both for that province, and for Chili, whither he was to send them over land. This vessel arrived in Rio de la Plata in June, 1767, and the governor instantly dispatched two officers, one to Peru, and the other to Chili, with the dispatches from court, directed to them. He then sent his orders into the various parts of his province, where there were any Jesuits, viz. to Cordoua, Mendoza, Corrientes, Santa-Fé, Salta, Montevideo, and Paraguay. As he feared, that among the commanders of these several places, some might not act with the dispatch, secrecy, and exactness which the court required, he enjoined, by sending his orders to them, that they should not open them till on a certain day, which he had fixed for the execution, and to do it only in the presence of some persons, whom he named, and who served in the highest ecclesiastical and civil offices, at the above-mentioned places. Cordoua, above all, interested his attention. In that province was the principal house of the Jesuits, and the general residence of their provincial. There they prepared and instructed in the Indian language and customs, those who were destined to go to the missions, and to become heads of colonies; there their most important papers were expected to be found. M. de Buccarelli resolved to send an officer of trust there, whom he appointed the king’s lieutenant of that place, and on whom, under this pretext, he sent a detachment of soldiers to attend.
It now remained to provide for the execution of the king’s orders in the missions, and this was the most critical point. It was dubious whether the Indians would suffer the Jesuits to be arrested in the midst of the colonies, and this violent step must at all events have been supported by a numerous body of troops. Besides this, it was necessary, before they thought of removing the Jesuits, to have another form of government ready to substitute in their stead, and by that means to prevent confusion and anarchy. The governor resolved to temporize, and was contented at that time to write to the missions, that a corregidor and a cacique from each colony should be sent to him immediately, in order to communicate the king’s letters to them. He dispatched this order with the greatest quickness, that the Indians might already be on the road, and beyond the missions, before the news of the expulsion of the Jesuits could reach thither. By this he had two aims in view; the one, that of getting hostages of the fidelity of the colonies, when the Jesuits would be taken from thence; the other, that of gaining the affection of the principal Indians, by the good treatment he intended for them at Buenos Ayres, and of instructing them in the new situation upon which they would enter; for, as soon as the restraint would be taken away, they were to enjoy the same privileges, and have the same property as the king’s other subjects.
The secret is near being divulged by an unforeseen accident.
Every measure was concerted with the greatest secrecy, and though people wondered that a vessel should arrive from Spain without any other letters than those for the general, yet they were very far from suspecting the cause of it. The moment of the general execution was fixed to the day when all the couriers were supposed to have arrived at their different destinations, and the governor waited for that moment with impatience, when the arrival of the two xebecs[[56]] of the king from Cadiz, the Andaluz and the Adventurero, was near making all these precautions useless. The governor-general had ordered the governor of Montevideo, that in case any vessels should arrive from Europe, he should not allow them to speak with any person whatsoever, before he had sent him word of it; but one of the two xebecs being in the forlorn situation we have before mentioned, at the entrance of the river, it was very necessary to save the crew of it, and give her all the assistance which her situation required.
Conduct of the governor-general.
The two xebecs had sailed from Spain, after the Jesuits had been arrested there, and this piece of news could by no means be prevented from spreading. An officer of these ships was immediately sent to M. de Buccarelli, and arrived at Buenos Ayres the 9th of July, at ten in the evening. The governor did not lose time, he instantly dispatched orders to all the commanders of the places, to open their former packets of dispatches, and execute their contents with the utmost celerity. At two of the clock after midnight, all the couriers were gone, and the two houses of the Jesuits at Buenos Ayres invested, to the great astonishment of those fathers, who thought they were dreaming, when roused from their sleep in order to be imprisoned, and to have their papers seized. The next morning an order was published in the town, which forbade, by pain of death, to keep up any intercourse with the Jesuits, and five merchants were arrested, who intended, it is said, to send advices to them at Cordoua.
The Jesuits are arrested in all the Spanish towns.
The king’s orders were executed with the same facility in all the towns. The Jesuits were surprised every where, without having the least notice, and their papers were seized. They were immediately sent from their houses, guarded by detachments of soldiers, who were ordered to fire upon those that should endeavour to escape. But there was no occasion to come to this extremity. They shewed the greatest resignation, humbling themselves under the hand that smote them, and acknowledging, as they said, that their sins had deserved the punishment which God inflicted on them. The Jesuits of Cordoua, in number above a hundred, arrived towards the end of August, at the Encenada, whither those from Corrientes, Buenos Ayres, and Montevideo, came soon after. They were immediately embarked, and the first convoy sailed, as I have already said, at the end of September. The others, during that time, were on the road to Buenos Ayres, where they should wait for another opportunity.
Arrival of the caciques and corregidors at Buenos Ayres from the missions.
On the 13th of September arrived all the corregidors, and a cacique of each colony, with some Indians of their retinue. They had left the missions before any one guessed at the reason of their journey there. The news which they received of it on the road had made some impression on them, but did not prevent their continuing the journey. The only instruction which the rectors gave their dear proselytes at parting, was, to believe nothing of what the governor-general should tell them: “Prepare, my children,” did every one tell them, “to hear many untruths.” At their arrival, they were immediately sent to the governor, where I was present at their reception. They entered on horseback to the number of a hundred and twenty, and formed a crescent in two lines; a Spaniard understanding the language of the Guaranis, served them as an interpreter. |They appear before the governor-general.| The governor appeared in a balcony; he told them, that they were welcome; that they should go to rest themselves, and that he would send them notice of the day which he should fix in order to let them know the king’s intentions. He added, in general, that he was come to release them from slavery, and put them in possession of their property, which they had not hitherto enjoyed. They answered by a general cry, lifting up their right hands to heaven, and wishing all prosperity to the king and governor. They did not seem discontented, but it was easy to discover more surprize than joy in their countenance. On leaving the governor’s palace, they were brought to one of the houses of the Jesuits, where they were lodged, fed, and kept at the king’s expence. The governor, when he sent for them, expressly mentioned the famous Cacique Nicholas, but they wrote him word, that his great age and his infirmities did not allow him to come out.
At my departure from Buenos Ayres, the Indians had not yet been called to an audience of the general. He was willing to give them time to learn something of the language, and to become acquainted with the Spanish customs. I have been several times to see them. They appeared to me of an indolent temper, and seemed to have that stupid air so common in creatures caught in a trap. Some of them were pointed out to me as very intelligent, but as they spoke no other language but that of the Guaranis, I was not able to make any estimate of the degree of their knowledge; I only heard a cacique play upon the violin, who, I was told, was a great musician; he played a sonata, and I thought I heard the strained founds of a serinette. Soon after the arrival of these Indians at Buenos Ayres, the news of the expulsion of the Jesuits having reached the missions, the marquis de Buccarelli[Buccarelli] received a letter from the provincial, who was there at that time, in which he assured him of his submission, and of that of all the colonies to the king’s orders.
Extent of the missions.
These missions of the Guaranis and Tapes, upon the Uruguay[Uruguay], were not the only ones which the Jesuits founded in South America. Somewhat more northward they had collected and submitted to the same laws, the Mojos, Chiquitos, and the Avipones. They likewise were making progresses in the south of Chili, towards the isle of Chiloé; and a few years since, they have opened themselves a road from that province to Peru, passing through the country of the Chiquitos, which is a shorter way than that which was followed till then. In all the countries into which they penetrated, they erected posts, on which they placed their motto; and on the map of their colonies, which they have settled, the latter are placed under the denomination of Oppida Christianorum.
It was expected, that in seizing the effects of the Jesuits in this province, very considerable sums of money would be found: however, what was obtained that way, amounted to a mere trifle. Their magazines indeed were furnished with merchandizes of all sorts, both of the products of the country, and of goods imported from Europe. There were even many sorts which could not have a sale in these provinces. The number of their slaves was considerable, and in their house at Cordoua alone, they reckoned three thousand five hundred.
I cannot enter into a detail of all that the public of Buenos Ayres pretends to have found in the papers of the Jesuits; the animosity is yet too recent to enable me to distinguish true imputations from false ones. I will rather do justice to the majority of the members of this society, who were not interested in its temporal affairs. If there were some intriguing men in this body, the far greater number, who were sincerely pious, did not consider any thing in the institution, besides the piety of its founder, and worshipped God, to whom they had consecrated themselves, in spirit and in truth. I have been informed, on my return to France, that the marquis de Buccarelli[Buccarelli] set out from Buenos Ayres for the missions, the 14th of May, 1768; and that he had not met with any obstacle, or resistance, to the execution of his most catholic majesty’s orders. My readers will be able to form an idea of the manner in which this interesting event was terminated, by reading the two following pieces, which contain an account of the first scene. It is a narrative of what happened at the colony of Yapegu, situated upon the Uraguay, and which lay the first in the Spanish general’s way; all the others have followed the example of this.
Translation of a letter from a captain of the grenadiers of the regiment of Majorca, commanding one of the detachments of the expedition into Paraguay.
Yapegu, the 19th July, 1768.
Account of the governor-general’s entry into the missions.
“Yesterday we arrived here very happily; the reception given to our general has been most magnificent, and such as could not be exported from so simple a people, so little accustomed to shows. Here is a college, which has very rich and numerous church ornaments; there is likewise a great quantity of plate. The settlement is somewhat less than Montevideo, but more regularly disposed, and well peopled. The houses are so uniform, that after seeing one, you have seen them all; and the same, after you have seen one man and woman, you have seen them all, there being not the least difference in the manner in which they are dressed. There are many musicians, but they are only middling performers.
“As soon as we arrived near this mission, the governor-general gave orders to go and seize the father provincial of the Jesuits, and six other fathers, and to bring them to a place of safety. They are to embark in a few days on the river Uraguay. However, we believe they will stay at Salto, in order to wait till the rest of their brethren have undergone the same fate. We expected to make a stay of five or six days at Yapegu, and then to continue our march to the last mission. We are very well pleased with our general, who has procured us all possible refreshments. Yesterday we had an opera, and shall have another representation of it to-day. The good people do all they can, and all they know.
“Yesterday we likewise saw the famous Nicolas, the same whom people were so desirous to confine. He was in a deplorable situation, and almost naked. He is seventy years of age, and seems to be a very sensible man. His excellency spoke with him a long time, and seemed very much pleased with his conversation.
“This is all the news I can inform you of.”
Relation published at Buenos Ayres of the entry of his excellency Don Francisco Buccarelli[Buccarelli] y Ursua, in the mission of Yapegu, one of those belonging to the Jesuits, among the nations of Guaranis, on his arrival there the 18th of July, 1768.
“At eight o’clock in the morning, his excellency went out of the chapel of St. Martin, at one league’s distance from Yapegu. He was accompanied by his guard of grenadiers and dragoons, and had detached two hours before the companies of grenadiers of Majorca, in order to take possession of, and get ready every thing at the river of Guavirade, which must be crossed in canoes and ferries. This rivulet is about half a league from the colony.
“As soon as his excellency had crossed the rivulet, he found the caciques and corregidors of the missions, who attended with the Alferes of Yapegu, bearing the royal standard. His excellency having received all the honours and compliments usual on such occasions, got on horseback, in order to make his public entry.
“The dragoons began the march; they were followed by two adjutants, who preceded his excellency; after whom came the two companies of grenadiers of Majorca, followed by the retinue of the Caciques and Corregidores, and by a great number of horsemen from these parts.
“They went to the great place facing the church. His excellency having alighted, Don Francisco Martinez, chaplain of the expedition, attended on the steps before the porch to receive him; he accompanied him to the Presbyterium, and began the Te Deum; which was sung and performed by musicians, entirely consisting of guaranis. During this ceremony, there was a triple discharge of the artillery. His excellency went afterwards to the lodgings, which he had chosen for himself, in the college of the fathers; round which the whole troop encamped, till, by his order, they went to take their quarters in the Guatiguasa, or la Casa de las recogidas, house of retirement for women[[57]].”
Let us now continue the account of our voyage; in which the detail of the revolution that happened in the missions, has been one of the most interesting circumstances.
CHAP. VIII.
Departure from Montevideo; run to Cape Virgin; entrance into the Straits; interview with the Patagonians; navigation to the isle of St. Elizabeth.
Nimborum in patriam, loca soeta furentibus austris. Virg. Æneid. Lib. I.
The Etoile comes down from Baragan to Montevideo.
The repair and loading of the Etoile took us up all October, and cost us a prodigious expence; we were not able to balance our accounts with the provisor-general, and the other Spaniards who had supplied our wants, till the end of this month. I paid them with the money I received, as a reimbursement for the cession of the Malouines, which I thought was preferable to a draught upon the king’s treasury. I have continued to do the same in regard to all the expences, at the various places we had occasion to touch at in foreign countries. I have bought what I wanted much cheaper, and obtained it much sooner by this means.
Difficulty of this navigation.
The 31st of October, by break of day, I joined the Etoile, some leagues from the Encenada; she having sailed from thence for Montevideo the preceding day. |1767. November.| We anchored there on the third of November, at seven in the evening. The necessity of finding out a channel, by constant soundings, between the Ortiz sandbank, and another little bank to the southward of it, both of which have no beacons on them, makes this navigation subject to great difficulties: the low situation of the land to the south, which therefore cannot be seen with ease, increases the difficulties. It is true, chance has placed a kind of beacon almost at the west point of the Ortiz bank. These were the two masts of a Portuguese vessel, which was lost there, and happily stands upright. In the channel you meet with four, four and a half, and five fathoms of water; and the bottom is black ooze; on the extremities of the Ortiz-bank, it is red sand. In going from Montevideo to the Encenada, as soon as you have made the beacon in E. by S. and have five fathoms of water, you have passed the banks. We have observed 15′ deg. 30. min. N. E. variation in the channel.
Loss of three sailors.
This small passage cost us three men, who were drowned; the boat getting foul under the ship, which was wearing, went to the bottom; all our efforts sufficed only to save two men and the boat, which had not lost her mooring-rope. I likewise was sorry to see, that, notwithstanding the repairs the Etoile had undergone, she still made water; which made us fear that the fault lay in the caulking of the whole water-line; the ship had been free of water till she drew thirteen feet.
Preparation for leaving Rio de la Plata.
We employed some days to stow all the victuals into the Boudeuse, which she could hold, and to caulk her over again; which was an operation, that could not be done sooner, on account of the absence of her caulkers, who had been employed in the Etoile; we likewise repaired the boat of the Etoile; cut grass for the cattle we had on board; and embarked whatever we had on shore. The tenth of November was spent in swaying up our top-masts and lower yards, and setting up our rigging, &c. We could have sailed the same day, if we had not grounded. On the 11th, the tide coming in, the ships floated, and we cast anchor at the head of the road; where vessels are always a-float. The two following days we could not sail, on account of the high sea; but this delay was not entirely useless. A schooner came from Buenos Ayres, laden with flour, and we took sixty hundred weight of it, which we made shift to stow in our ships. We had now victuals for ten months; though it is true, that the greatest part of the drink consisted of brandy. |Condition of the crews, at our sailing from Montevideo.| The crew was in perfect health. The long stay they made in Rio de la Plata, during which a third part of them alternately lay on shore, and the fresh meat they were always fed with, had prepared them for the fatigues and miseries of all kinds, which we were obliged to undergo. I left at Montevideo my pilot, my master-carpenter, my armourer, and a warrant-officer of my frigate; whom age and incurable infirmities prevented from undertaking the voyage. Notwithstanding all our care, twelve men, soldiers and sailors, deserted from the two ships. I had, however, taken some of the sailors at the Malouines, who were engaged in the fishery there; and likewise an engineer, a supercargo, and a surgeon; by this means my ship had as many hands as at her departure from Europe; and it was already a year since we had left the river of Nantes.
Departure from Montevideo.
The 14th of November, at half past four in the morning, wind due north, a fine breeze, we sailed from Montevideo. At half past eight we were N. and S. off the isle of Flores; and at noon twelve leagues E. and E. by S. from Montevideo; and from hence I took my point of departure in 34° 54′ 40″ S. lat. and 58° 57′ 30″ W. long. from the meridian of Paris. |Its position astronomically determined.| I have laid down the position of Montevideo, such as M. Verron has determined it by his observations; which places its longitude 40′ 30″ more W. than Mr. Bellin lays it down in his chart. I had likewise profited of my stay on shore, to try my octant upon the distances of known stars; this instrument always made the altitude of every star too little by two minutes; and I have always since attended to this correction. I must mention here, that in all the course of this Journal, I give the bearings of the coasts, such as taken by the compass; whenever I give them corrected, according to the variations, I shall take care to mention it.
Soundings and navigation to the straits of Magalhaens.
On the day of our departure, we saw land till sun-set; our soundings constantly encreased, and changed from an oozy to a sandy bottom; at half past six of the clock we found thirty-five fathom, and a grey sand; and the Etoile, to whom I gave a signal for sounding on the fifteenth in the afternoon, found sixty fathom, and the same ground: at noon we had observed 36° 1′ of latitude. From the 16th to the 21st we had contrary winds, a very high sea, and we kept the most advantageous boards in tacking under our courses and close-reefed top-sails; the Etoile had struck her top-gallant masts, and we sailed without having our’s up. The 22d it blew a hard gale, accompanied with violent squalls and showers, which continued all night; the sea was very dreadful, and the Etoile made a signal of distress; we waited for her under our fore-sail and main-sail, the lee clue-garnet hauled up. This store-ship seemed to have her fore top-sail-yard carried away. The wind and sea being abated the next morning, we made sail, and the 24th I made the signal for the Etoile to come within hail, in order to know what she had suffered in the last gale. M. de la Giraudais informed me, that besides his fore top-sail yard, four of his chain plates[[58]] had likewise been carried away; he added, that all the cattle he had taken in at Montevideo, had been lost, two excepted: this misfortune we had shared with him; but this was no consolation, for we knew not when we should be able to repair this loss. During the remaining part of this month, the winds were variable, from S. W. to N. W; the currents carried us southward with much rapidity, as far as 45° of latitude, where they became insensible. We sounded for several days successively without finding ground, and it was not till the 27th at night, being in the latitude of about 47°, and, according to our reckoning, thirty-five leagues from the coast of Patagonia, that we sounded seventy fathom, oozy bottom, with a fine black and grey sand. From that day till we saw the land, we had soundings in 67, 60, 55, 50, 47, and at last forty fathom, and then we first got sight of Cape Virgins[[59]]. The bottom was sometimes oozy, but always of a fine sand, which was grey, or yellow, and sometimes mixed with small red and black gravel.
Chart
of the Straits of
MAGALHAENS
or
MAGELLAN,
with the Track of the
Boudeuse & Etoile.
Hidden rock not taken notice of in the charts.
I would not approach too near the coast till I came in latitude of 49°, on account of a sunken rock or vigie, which I had discovered in 1765, in 48° 30′ south latitude, about six or seven leagues off shore. I discovered it in the morning, at the same moment as I did the land, and having taken a good observation at noon, the weather being very fair, I was thus enabled to determine its latitude with precision. We ran within a quarter of a league of this rock, which the first person who saw it, originally took to be a grampus.
1767. December.
The 1st and 2d of December, the winds were favourable from N. and N. N. E.; very fresh, the sea high, and the weather hazy; we made all the sail we could in day time, and passed the nights under our fore-sail, and close-reefed top-sails. During all this time we saw the birds called Quebrantahuessos or Albatrosses, and what in all the seas in the world is a bad sign, petrels, which disappear when the weather is fair, and the sea smooth. We likewise saw seals, penguins, and a great number of whales. Some of these monstrous creatures seemed to have their skin covered with such white vermiculi, which fasten upon the bottoms of old ships that are suffered to rot in the harbours. On the 30th of November, two white birds, like great pigeons, perched on our yards. I had already seen a flight of these birds cross the bay of the Malouines.
Sight of Cape Virgins.
On the 2d of December in the afternoon, we discovered Cape Virgins, and we found it bore S. about seven leagues distant. |Its position.| At noon I had observed 52° S. lat. and I was now in 52° 3′ 30″ of latitude, and in 71° 12′ 20″ of longitude west from Paris. This position of the ship, together with the bearing, places Cape Virgins in 52° 23′ of latitude, and in 71° 25′ 20″ of longitude west from Paris. As Cape Virgins is an interesting point in geography, I must give an account of the reasons which induced me to believe that the position I give is nearly exact.
Discussion upon the position given to Cape Virgin.
The 27th of November in the afternoon, the chevalier du Bouchage had observed eight distances of the moon from the sun, of which the mean result had given him the west longitude of the ship, in 65° 0′ 30″ for one hour, 43 min. 26 sec. of true time: M. Verron, on his part, had observed five distances, the result of which gave for our longitude, at the same instant, 64° 57′. The weather was fair, and extremely favourable for observations. The 29th at 3 hours 57 min. 35 sec. true time, M. Verron, by five observations of the distance of the moon from the sun, determined the ship’s west longitude, at 67° 49′ 30″.
Now, by following the longitude determined the 27th of November, taking the medium between the result of the observations of the chevalier du Bouchage and those of M. Verron, in order to fix the longitude of the ship, when we got sight of Cape Virgins, the longitude of that Cape will be 71° 29′ 42″ west from Paris. The observations made the 29th afternoon, likewise referred to the place of the ship, when we made the Cape, would give a result of 38′ 47″ more westward. But it seems to me that those of the 27th ought rather to be followed, though two days more remote, because they were made in a greater number by two observers, who did not communicate their observations to each other, and however did not differ more than 3′ 30″. They carry an appearance of probability which cannot well be objected to. Upon the whole, if a medium is to be taken between the observations of both days, the longitude of Cape Virgins will be 71° 49′ 5″, which differs only four leagues from the first determination, which answers within a league to that which the reckoning of my course gave me, and which I follow for this reason.
This longitude of Cape Virgin is more westerly by 42′ 20″ than that which M. Bellin places it in, and this is the same difference which appears in his position of Montevideo, of which we have given an account in the beginning of this chapter. Lord Anson’s chart assigns for the longitude of Cape Virgins, 72° west from London, which is near 75° west from Paris[[60]]; a much more considerable error, which he likewise commits at the mouth of the river Plata, and generally along the whole coast of Patagonia.
Digression upon the instruments proper for observing the longitude at sea.
The observations which we have now mentioned, have been made with the English octant. This method of determining the longitude, by means of the distances of the moon from the sun, or from the stars in the zodiac, has been known for several years. Mess. de la Caille and Daprès have particularly made use of it at sea, likewise employing Hadley’s octant. But as the degree of accuracy obtained by this method depends in a great measure upon the accuracy of the instrument with which you observe, it follows that M. Bouguer’s heliometer, if one could measure great angles with it, would be very fit for rectifying these observations of distances. The Abbé de la Caille probably has thought of that, because he got one made, which would measure arcs of six or seven degrees; and if in his works he does not speak of it as an instrument fit for observing at sea, it is because he foresaw the difficulty of using it on board a ship.
M. Verron brought on board with him an instrument called a megameter, which he has employed in the other voyages he made with M. de Charnieres, and which he has likewise made use of on this. This instrument appeared to be very little different from the heliometer of M. Bouguer, except that the screw by which the objectives move, being longer, it places them at a greater distance asunder, and by that means makes the instrument capable of measuring angles of ten degrees, which was the limit of M. Verron’s megameter. It is to be wished, that by lengthening the screw, we were able to augment its extension still more, it being confined in too narrow bounds to allow a frequent repetition, and even to make the observations exact; but the laws of dioptrics limit the removing of the objectives. It is likewise necessary to remedy the difficulty which the Abbé de la Caille foresaw, I mean, that which arises from the element on which the observation must be made. In general, it seems that the reflecting quadrant of Hadley would be preferable, if it were equally accurate.
Difficulties on entering the straits.
From the 2d of December in the afternoon, when we got sight of Cape Virgins, and soon after of Terra del Fuego, the contrary wind and the stormy weather opposed us for several days together. We plyed to windward the 3d till six in the evening, when the winds becoming more favourable, permitted our bearing away for the entrance of Magalhaens’ Straits: this lasted but a short time; at half past seven it became quite calm, and the coasts covered with fogs; at ten it blew fresh again, and we passed the night by plying to windward. The 4th, at three o’clock in the morning, we made for the land with a good northern breeze; but the weather which was rainy and hazy intercepting our sight of it, we were obliged to stand off to sea again. At five in the morning, in a clear spot, we perceived Cape Virgins, and bore away in order to enter the straits; almost immediately the wind changed to S. W. whence it soon blew with violence, the fog became thicker, and we were obliged to lay-to between the two shores of Terra del Fuego and the continent.
Observation on the nature of the ground at the entrance of the straits.
Our fore-sail was split the fourth in the afternoon; and we having sounded, almost at the same moment, only twenty fathom, the fear of the breakers, which extend S. S. E. off Cape Virgins, made me resolve to scud under our bare poles; especially as this manœuvre facilitated the operation of bending another fore-sail to the yard. These soundings, however, which made me bear away, were not alarming; they were those in the channel, as I have since learnt, by sounding with a clear view of the land. I shall add, for the use of those who may be plying here in thick weather, that a gravelly bottom shews that they are nearer the coast of Terra del Fuego than to the continent; where they will find a fine sand, and sometimes oozy bottom.
At five o’clock in the evening we brought to again, under the main and mizen stay-sails; at half past seven of the clock the wind abated, the sky cleared up, and we made sail; but with disadvantageous tacks, which brought us further from the coast; and, indeed, though on the 5th the weather was very fair, and the wind favourable, we did not see the land till two in the afternoon; when it extended from S. by W. to S. W. by W. about ten leagues off. At four o’clock we again discovered Cape Virgins; and we made sail in order to double it, at the distance of about a league and a half, or two leagues. It is not adviseable to come nearer, on account of a bank, which lies off the Cape, at about that distance. I am even inclined to believe, that we passed over the tail of that sand; for as we sounded very frequently, between two soundings, one of twenty-five and the other of seventeen fathom, the Etoile, which sailed in our wake, made signal of eight fathom; but the moment after she deepened her water.
Nautical remarks upon the entrance of the straits.
Cape Virgins is a table-land, of a middling height; it is perpendicular at its extremity; the view of it given by lord Anson, is most exactly true. At half past nine in the evening, we had brought the north point of the entrance to the straits to bear W. from which a ledge of rocks extends a league into the sea. We ran under our close-reefed fore-top-sail and lower sails hauled up, till eleven o’clock at night, when Cape Virgins bore N. of us. It blew very fresh; and the gloominess of the weather, seeming to threaten a storm, determined me to pass the night standing off and on.
The 6th, at break of day, I ordered all the reefs out of the top-sails, and run to W. N. W. We did not see land, till half past four o’clock, when it appeared to us that the tides had carried us to the S. S. W. At half after five, being about two leagues from the continent, we discovered Cape Possession, being W. by N. and W. N. W. This Cape is very easily known; it is the first head-land from the north point, at the entrance of these straits. It is more southerly than the rest of the coast, which afterwards forms a great gulf, called Possession Bay, between this Cape and the next narrow gut. We had likewise sight of Terra del Fuego. The winds soon changed to the ordinary points of W. and N. W. and we ran the most advantageous tacks for entering the strait, endeavouring to come close to the coast of Patagonia, and taking advantage of the tide, which then set to the westward.
At noon we had an observation; and the bearings taken at the same time gave me the same latitude, within a minute, for Cape Virgins, as that which I had concluded from my observations of the third of this month. We likewise made use of this observation, to ascertain the latitude of Cape Possession, and of Cape Espiritù Santo, on Terra del Fuego.
Description
of Cape Orange.
We continued to ply to windward, under our courses and top-sails, all the sixth; and the next night, which was very clear, often sounding, and never going further than three leagues from the coast of the continent. We got forward very little, by this disagreeable manœuvre; losing as much by the tides as we gained by them; and the 7th, at noon, we were still at Cape Possession. Cape Orange bore S. W. about six leagues distant. This cape is remarkable by a pretty high hillock; deep towards the sea-side, and forms to the southward the first gut, or narrow pass, in the straits[[61]]. |Its rocks.| Its point is dangerous, on account of a ledge which extends to the N. E. of the cape, at least three leagues into the sea. I have very plainly seen the sea break over it. At one o’clock, after noon, the wind having shifted to N. N. W. we made advantage of it to continue our voyage. At half past two we were come to the entrance of the gut; another obstacle attended us there; we were not able, with a fine fresh breeze, and all our sails set, to stem the tide. At four o’clock it ran six knots a-long side of us, and we went a-stern. We persisted in vain to strive against it. The wind was less constant than we were, and obliged us to return. It was to be feared, that we might be becalmed in the gut; exposed to the current of the tide; which might carry us on the ledges off the capes which form its entrance at E. and W.
Anchoring in Possession-bay.
We steered N. by E. in search of a good anchoring-ground, in the bottom of Possession-bay; when the Etoile, which was nearer the coast than we were, having passed all at once from twenty fathom to five, we bore away, and stood east, in order to avoid a ledge of rocks, which seemed to lie in the bottom, and in the whole circuit of the bay. During some time we found a bottom of nothing but rocks and pebbles; and it was seven at night, being in twenty fathom, the ground mud and sand, with black and white gravel, when we anchored about two leagues from the land. Possession-bay is open to all winds, and has but very bad anchoring-ground. In the bottom of this bay arise five hills; one of which is a very considerable one; the other four are little and pointed. We have called them le Pere et les quatre fils Aymond; they serve as a conspicuous mark for this part of the straits. At night we sounded at the several times of the tide, without finding any sensible difference in the depth. At half an hour past eight it set to the west; and at three in the morning to the eastward.
Passing the first goulet, or gut.
The eighth in the morning we set sail under courses, and double-reefed top sails; the tide was contrary to us, but we stemmed it with a fine N. W. breeze[[63]]. At eight o’clock the wind headed us, and we were obliged to ply to windward; now and then receiving violent squalls of wind. At ten o’clock, the tide beginning to set in westward with sufficient force, we lay to, under our top sails, at the entrance of the first gut, driving with the current, which carried us to windward; and tacking about whenever we found ourselves too near either coast. Thus we passed the first narrow entrance or gut[[64]] in two hours; notwithstanding the wind was right against us, and blew very hard.
Sight of the Patagonians.
This morning the Patagonians, who had kept up fires all night, at the bottom of Possession-bay, hoisted a white flag on an eminence; and we answered it by hoisting that of our ships. These Patagonians certainly are the same which the Etoile saw in June 1766, in Boucault’s-bay, and with whom she left this flag, as a sign of alliance. The care they have taken to preserve it; shews that good-nature, a due regard of their word, or, at least, gratitude for presents received, are the characteristics of these men.
Americans of Terra del Fuego.
We likewise saw, very distinctly, when we were in the gut, about twenty men on Terra del Fuego. They were dressed in skins, and ran as fast as possible along the coast, parallel to our course. They seemed likewise from time to time to make signs to us with their hands, as if they wanted us to come to them. According to the report of the Spaniards, the nation which inhabits this part of Terra del Fuego, practises none of the cruel customs of most other savages. They behaved with great humanity to the crew of the ship la Conception, which was lost on their coast in 1765. They assisted them in saving part of her cargo; and in erecting sheds, to shelter them against bad weather. The Spaniards built a bark there of the wreck of their ships, in which they went to Buenos Ayres. The xebeck el Andaluz was going to bring missionaries to these Indians, when we left Rio de la Plata. Lumps of wax, being part of the cargo of the above ship, have been carried by the force of currents to the coast of the Malouines, where they were found in 1766.
We anchor in Boucault-bay.
I have already observed, that we were gone through the first gut at noon; after that we made sail. The wind was veered to S. and the tide continued to carry us to the westward. At three o’clock they both failed us; and we anchored in Boucault’s-bay, in eighteen fathom, oozy bottom.
Interview with the Patagonians.
As soon as we were at anchor, I hoisted out one of my boats, and one belonging to the Etoile. We embarked in them, being about ten officers, each armed with our muskets; and we landed at the bottom of the bay, with the precaution of ordering our boats to be kept a-float, and the crew to remain in them. We had hardly set foot on shore, but we saw six Americans come to us on horseback, in full gallop. They alighted about fifty yards from us; and immediately ran towards us, crying, shawa. When they had joined us, they stretched out their arms towards us, and laid them upon ours. They then embraced us, and shook hands with us, crying continually, Shawa, shawa, which we repeated with them. These good people seemed very much rejoiced at our arrival. Two of them, who trembled as they came towards us, had their fears very soon removed. After many reciprocal caresses, we sent for some cakes and some bread from our boats; which we distributed amongst them, and which they devoured with avidity. Their numbers encreased every moment; they were soon come to thirty, among whom were some young people, and a child of eight or ten years old. They all came to us with entire confidence; and caressed us all, as the first had done. They did not seem surprised to see us; and by imitating the report of muskets with their voice, they shewed that they were acquainted with these arms. They appeared attentive to do what might give us pleasure. M. de Commerçon, and some of our gentlemen, were busy in picking up plants: several Patagonians immediately began to search for them too, and brought what species they saw us take up. One of them seeing the chevalier du Bouchage occupied in this manner, came to shew him his eye, which was very visibly affected; and asked him by signs, to point out to him some simple, by which he could be cured. This shews that they have an idea, and make use of that sort of medicine, which requires the knowledge of simples, and applies them for the cure of mankind. This was the medicine of Machaon, who was physician to the gods; and, I believe, that many Machaons might be found among the Indians in Canada.
We exchanged some trifles, valuable in their eyes, against skins of guanacoes and vicunnas. They asked us by signs for tobacco; and they were likewise very fond of any thing red: as soon as they saw something of that colour upon us, they came to stroke it with their hands, and seemed very desirous of it. At every present which, we gave them, and at every mark of fondness, they repeated their shawa, and cried so that it almost stunned us. We gave them some brandy; giving each of them only a small draught: as soon as they had swallowed it, they beat with their hands on their throat, and by blowing with their mouths, uttered a tremulous inarticulate sound, which terminated in a quick motion of the lips. They all made the same droll ceremony, which was a very strange sight to us.
However, it grew late, and was time to return on board. As soon as they saw that we were preparing for that purpose, they seemed sorry; they made signs for us to wait, because some more of their people were coming. We made signs that we would return the next day, and that we would bring them what they desired: they seemed as if they would have liked our passing the night on shore much better. When they saw that we were going, they accompanied us to the sea shore; a Patagonian sung during this march. Some of them went into the water up to their knees, in order to follow us further. When we were come to our boats, we were obliged to look after every thing; for they got hold of all that was within their reach. One of them had taken a sickle, but on its being perceived, he returned it without resistance. Before we were got to any distance, we perceived their troops encrease, by the arrival of others, who came in full gallop. We did not fail, as we left them, to shout shawa so loud that the whole coast resounded with it.
Description of these Americans.
These Americans are the same with those seen by the Etoile in 1765. One of our sailors, who was then on board that vessel, now knew one of these Americans again, having seen him in the first voyage. They have a fine shape; among those whom we saw, none was below five feet five or six inches, and none above five feet nine or ten inches[[65]]; the crew of the Etoile had even seen several in the preceding voyage, six feet (or six feet, 4,728 inches English) high. What makes them appear gigantic, are their prodigious broad shoulders, the size of their heads, and the thickness of all their limbs. They are robust and well fed: their nerves are braced, and their muscles are strong and sufficiently hard; they are men left entirely to nature, and supplied with food abounding in nutritive juices, by which means they are come to the full growth they are capable of: their figure is not coarse or disagreeable; on the contrary, many of them are handsome: their face is round, and somewhat flattish; their eyes very fiery; their teeth vastly white, and would only be somewhat too great at Paris; they have long black hair tied up on the top of their heads; I have seen some of them with long but thin whiskers. Their colour is bronzed, as it is in all the Americans, without exception, both in those who inhabit the torrid zone, and those who are born in the temperate and in the frigid ones. Some of them had their cheeks painted red: their language seemed very delicate, and nothing gave us reason to fear any ferocity in them. We have not seen their women; perhaps they were about to come to us; for the men always desired that we should stay, and they had sent one of their people towards a great fire, near which their camp seemed to be, about a league from us; and they shewed us that somebody would come from thence.
The dress of these Patagonians is very nearly the same with that of the Indians of Rio de la Plata; they have merely a piece of leather which covers their natural parts, and a great cloak of guanaco or sorillos skins, which is fastened round the body with a girdle; this cloak hangs down to their heels, and they generally suffer that part which is intended to cover the shoulders to fall back, so that, notwithstanding the rigour of the climate, they are almost always naked from the girdle upwards. Habit has certainly made them insensible to cold; for though we were here in summer, Reaumur’s thermometer was only one day risen to ten degrees above the freezing point. These men have a kind of half boots, of horse-leather, open behind, and two or three of them had on the thigh a copper ring, about two inches broad. Some of my officers likewise observed, that two of the youngest among them had such beads as are employed for making necklaces.
The only arms which we observed among them, are, two round pebbles, fattened to the two ends of a twisted gut, like those which are made use of in all this part of America, and which we have described above. They had likewise little iron knives, of which the blade was between an inch and an inch and a half broad. These knives, which were of an English manufactory, were certainly given them by Mr. Byron. Their horses, which are little and very lean, were bridled and saddled in the same manner as those belonging to the inhabitants of Rio de la Plata. One of the Patagonians had at his saddle, gilt nails; wooden stirrups, covered with plates of copper; a bridle of twisted leather, and a whole Spanish harness. The principal food of the Patagonians seems to be the marrow and flesh of guanacoes and vicunnas; many of them had quarters of this flesh fastened on their horses, and we have seen them eat pieces of it quite raw. They had likewise little nasty dogs with them, which, like their horses, drink sea-water, it being a very scarce thing to get fresh water on this coast, and even in the country.
None of them had any apparent superiority over the rest; nor did they shew any kind of esteem for two or three old men who were in their troop. It is remarkable that several of them pronounced the Spanish words manana, muchacha, bueno, chico, capitan. I believe this nation leads the life of Tartars. Besides rambling through the immense plains of South America, men, women and children being constantly on horseback, pursuing the game, or the wild beasts, with which those plains abound, dressing and covering themselves with skins, they bear probably yet this resemblance with the Tartars, that they pillage the caravans of travellers. I shall conclude this article by adding, that we have since found a nation in the South Pacific Ocean which is taller than the Patagonians.
Quality of the soil in this part of America.
The soil in the place we landed at is very dry, and in that particular bears great resemblance with that of the Malouines; the botanists have likewise found almost all the same plants in both places. The sea shore was surrounded with the same sea-weeds, and covered with the same shells. Here are no woods, but only some shrubs. When we had anchored in Boucault’s bay, the tide was going to set in against us, and whilst we were on shore, we observed that the water rose, and accordingly the flood sets in to eastward. |Remarks on the tides in these parts.|This observation we have been able to make with certainty several times during this navigation, and it had struck me already in my first voyage. At half past nine in the evening, the ebb set to westward. We sounded at high water[[66]], and found the depth was encreased to twenty-one fathoms, from eighteen, which we had when we cast anchor.
Second time of anchoring in Boucault bay.
On the 9th, at half an hour past four in the morning, the wind being N. W. we set all our sails in order to stem the tide, steering S. W. by W. we advanced only one league; the wind veering to S. W. and blowing very fresh, we anchored again in nineteen fathom, bottom of sand, ooze, and rotten shells. The bad weather continued throughout this day and the next. The short distance we were advanced had brought us further from the shore, and during these two days, there was not one favourable instant for sending out a boat, for which, the Patagonians were certainly as sorry as ourselves. We saw the whole troop of them collected at the place where we landed before, and we thought we perceived with our perspective glasses, that they had erected some huts there. However, I apprehend that their head quarters were more distant, for men on horseback were constantly going and coming. We were very sorry that we could not bring them what we had promised; they might be satisfied at a small expence.
The difference of the depth at the different times of tide, was only one fathom here. On the 10th, from an observation of the moon’s distance from Regulus, M. Verron calculated our west longitude in this anchoring place, at 73° 26′ 15″, and that of the easterly entrance of the second gut, at 73° 34′ 30″. Reaumur’s thermometer fell from 9° to 8° and 7°.
Loss of an anchor.
The 11th, at half an hour after midnight, the wind veering to N. E. and the tide setting to westward an hour before, I made signal for weighing. Our efforts to that purpose were fruitless, though we had got the winding-tackle upon the cable. At two in the morning, the cable parted between the bits and the hawse, and so we lost our anchor. We set all our sails, and soon had the tide against us, which we were hardly able to stem with a light breeze at N. W. though the tide in the second gut is not near so strong as in the first. |Passing the second gut.| At noon the ebb came to our assistance, and we passed the second gut[[67]], the wind having been variable till three in the afternoon, when it blew very fresh from S. S. W. and S. S. E. with rain and violent squalls[[68]].
We anchor near the isle of Elizabeth.
In two boards we came to the anchoring-place, to the northward of the isle of Elizabeth, where we anchored, two miles off shore, in seven fathom, grey sand with gravel and rotten shells. The Etoile anchored a quarter of a league more to the S. E. than we did, and had seventeen fathom of water.
Description of this isle.
We were obliged to stay here the 11th and 12th, on account of the contrary wind, which was attended with violent squalls, rain, and hail. On the 12th in the afternoon, we hoisted out a boat, in order to go on shore on the isle of Elizabeth[[69]]. We landed in the N. E. part of the island. Its coasts are high and steep, except at the S. W. and S. E. points, where the shore is low. However, one may land in every part of it, as there is always a small slip of flat land under the high perpendicular shores. The soil of the isle is very dry; we found no other water than that of a little pool in the S. W. part of the isle, but it was very brackish. We likewise saw several dried marshes, where the earth is in some places covered with a thin crust of salt. We found some bustards, but they were in small number, and so very shy, that we were never able to come near enough to shoot them: they were however sitting on their eggs. It appears that the savages come upon this island. We found a dead dog, some marks of fire places, and the remnants of shells, the fish of which had been feasted upon. There is no wood on it, and a small sort of heath is the only thing that may be used as fuel. We had already collected a quantity of it, fearing to be obliged to pass the night on this isle, where the bad weather kept us till nine of the clock in the evening: we should have been both ill lodged and ill fed on it.
CHAP. IX.
The run from the isle of Elizabeth, through the Straits of Magalhaens.
Nautical details on this navigation.
We were now going to enter the woody part of the the straits of Magalhaens; and the first difficult steps were already made.
|Difficulties of the navigation along the isle of Elizabeth.| It was not till the 13th in the afternoon, the wind being N. W. that we weighed, notwithstanding the force with which it blew, and made sail in the channel, which separates the isle of Elizabeth from the isles of St. Barthelemi and of Lions[[71]]. We were forced to carry sail; though there were almost continually very violent squalls coming off the high land of Elizabeth island; along which we were obliged to sail, in order to avoid the breakers, which extend around the other two isles[[72]]. The tide in this channel sets to the southward, and seemed very strong to us. We came near the shore of the main-land, below Cape Noir; here the coast begins to be covered with woods; and its appearance from hence is very pleasant. It runs southward; and the tides here are not so strong as in the above place.
Bad weather, and disagreeable night.
It blew very fresh and squally, till six o’clock in the evening; when it became calm and moderate. We sailed along the coast, at about a league’s distance, the weather being clear and serene; flattering ourselves to be able to double Cape Round during night; and then to have, in case of bad weather, Port Famine to leeward. But these projects were frustrated; for, at half an hour after mid-night, the wind shifted all at once to S. W. the coast became foggy; the continual and violent squalls brought rain and hail with them; and, in short, the weather soon became as foul, as it had been fair the moment before. Such is the nature of this climate; the changes of weather are so sudden and frequent, that it is impossible to foresee their quick and dangerous revolutions.
Our main-sail having been split, when in the brails, we were forced to ply to windward, under our fore-sail, main-stay-sail, and close-reefed top-sails, endeavouring to double Point St. Anne, and to take shelter in Port Famine. This required our gaining a league to windward; which we could never effect. As our tacks were short, and being obliged to wear, a strong current was carrying us into a great inlet in Terra del Fuego; we lost three leagues in nine hours on this manœuvre, and were obliged to go along the coast in search of anchorage to leeward. |We anchor in Bay Duclos.| We ranged along it, and kept sounding continually; and, about eleven o’clock in the morning, we anchored a mile off shore, in eight fathom and a half, oozy sand, in a bay, which I named Bay Duclos[[74]]; from the name of M. Duclos Guyot, a captain of a fire-ship, who was the next in command after me on this voyage; and whose knowledge and experience have been of very great use to me.
Description of this bay.
This bay is open to the eastward, and its depth is very inconsiderable. Its northern point projects more into the sea, than the southern one; and they are about a league distant from each other. The bottom is very good in the whole bay; and there is every where six or eight fathom of water, within a cable’s length from the shore. This is an excellent anchorage; because the westerly winds, which prevail here, blow over the coast, which is very high in this part. Two little rivers discharge themselves into the bay; the water is brackish at their mouth, but very good five hundred yards above it. A kind of meadow lies along the landing-place, which is sandy. The woods rise behind it in form of an amphitheatre; but the whole country seems entirely without animals. We have gone through a great track of it, without finding more than two or three snipes, some teals, ducks, and bustards in very small number: we have likewise perceived some perrokeets[[75]]; the latter are not afraid of the cold weather.
New observations on the tides.
At the mouth of the most southerly river, we found seven huts, made of branches of trees, twisted together, in form of an oven; they appeared to have been lately built, and were full of calcined shells, muscles, and limpets. We went up a considerable way in this river, and saw some marks of men. Whilst we were on shore, the tide rose one foot, and the flood accordingly came from east, contrary to the observations we had made after doubling Cape Virgin; having ever since seen the water rise when the tide went out of the straits. But it seems to me, after several observations, that having passed the guts, or narrows, the tides cease to be regular in all that part of the straits, which runs north and south. The number of channels, which divide Terra del Fuego in this part, seem necessarily to cause a great irregularity in the motion of the water. During the two days which we passed in this anchoring-place, the thermometer varied from eight to five degrees. On the 15th, at noon, we observed 53° 20′ of latitude there; and that day we employed our people in cutting wood; the calm not permitting us then to set sail.
Nautical observations.
Towards night the clouds seemed to go to westward, and announced us a favourable wind. We hove a-peek upon our anchor; and, actually, on the 16th, at four o’clock in the morning, the breeze blowing from the point whence we expected it, we set sail. The sky, indeed, was cloudy; and, as is usual in these parts, the east and north-east winds, accompanied with fog and rain. We passed Point St. Anne[[76]] and Cape Round[[77]]. The former is a table-land, of a middling height; and covers a deep bay, which is both safe and convenient for anchoring. It is that bay, which, on account of the unhappy fate of the colony of Philippeville, established by the presumptuous Sarmiento, has got the name of Port Famine. Cape Round is a high land, remarkable on account of the figure which its name expresses; the shores, in all this tract, are woody and steep; those of Terra del Fuego appear cut through by several straits. Their aspect is horrible; the mountains there are covered with a blueish snow, as old as the creation. Between Cape Round and Cape Forward there are four bays, in which a vessel may anchor.
Description of a singular cape.
Two of these are separated from each other by a cape; the angularity of which fixed our attention, and deserves a particular description. This cape rises upwards of a hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea; and consists entirely of horizontal strata, of petrified shells. I have been in a boat to take the soundings at the foot of this monument, which marks the great changes our globe has undergone; and I have not been able to reach the bottom, with a line of a hundred fathom.
Description of Cape Forward.
The wind brought us to within a league and a half of Cape Forward; we were then becalmed for two hours together. I profited of this time, to go in my pinnace[pinnace], near Cape Forward, to take soundings and bearings. This cape is the most southerly point of America, and of all the known continents. From good observations we have determined its south lat. to be 54° 5′ 45″. It shews a surface with two hillocks, extending about three quarters of a league; the eastern hillock being higher than the western one. The sea is almost unfathomable below the cape; however, between the two hillocks or heads, one might anchor in a little bay provided with a pretty considerable rivulet, in 15 fathom, sand and gravel; but this anchorage being dangerous in a southerly wind, ought only to serve in a case of necessity. The whole cape is a perpendicular rock, whose elevated summit is covered with snow. However, some trees grow on it; the roots of which are fixed in the crevices, and are supplied with perpetual humidity. We landed below the cape at a little rock, where we found it difficult to get room for four persons to stand on. On this point, which terminates or begins a vast continent, we hoisted the colours of our boat; and these wild rocks resounded, for the first time, with the repeated shouts of vive le Roi. From hence we set out for Cape Holland, bearing W. 4° N. and accordingly the coast begins here to run northward again.
Anchoring in Bay Françoise.
We returned on board at six o’clock in the evening; and soon after the wind veering to S. W. I went in search of the harbour, which M. de Gennes named the French Bay (Baie Françoise). At half an hour past eight o’clock we anchored there in ten fathom, sandy and gravelly bottom; between the two points of the bay, of which the one bore N. E. ½E. and the other S. ½W. and the little island in the middle, N. E. As we wanted to take in water and wood for our course across the Pacific Ocean, and the remaining part of the straits was unknown to me; being in my first voyage, come no further than near Bay Françoise, I resolved to take in those necessaries here; especially as M. de Gennes represents it very safe and convenient for this purpose: accordingly that very evening we hoisted all our boats out. |Advice with regard to this harbour.| During night the wind veered all round the compass; blowing in very violent squalls; the sea grew high, and broke round us upon a sand, which seemed to ly all round the bottom of the bay. The frequent turns, which the changes of the wind caused our ship to make round her anchor, gave us room to fear that the cable might be foul of it; and we passed the night under continual apprehensions.
The Etoile lying more towards the offing than we did, was not so much molested. At half past two in the morning, I sent the little boat to sound the mouth of the river, to which M. de Gennes has given his name. It was low water; and the boat did not get into the river, without running a-ground upon a sand at its mouth; at the same time they found, that our large boats could only get up at high-water; and thus could hardly make above one trip a day. This difficulty of watering, together with the anchorage not appearing safe to me, made me resolve to bring the ships into a little bay, a league to the eastward of this. I had there, without difficulty, in 1765, taken a loading of wood for the Malouines, and the crew of the ship had given it my name. I wanted previously to go and be sure, whether the crews of both ships could conveniently water there. I found, that besides the rivulet, which falls into the bottom of the bay itself; and which might be adapted for the daily use, and for washing, the two adjoining bays had each a rivulet proper to furnish us easily with as much water as we wanted; and without having above half a mile to fetch it.
In consequence of this, we sailed on the 17th, at two o’clock in the afternoon, with our fore and mizen-top-sails. We passed without the little isle, in Bay Françoise; and, afterwards, we entered into a very narrow pass, in which there is deep water, between the north point of this bay and a high island, about half a quarter of a league long. This pass leads to the entrance of Bougainville’s bay; which is, moreover, covered by two other little isles; the most considerable of which, has deserved the name of Isle of the Observatory, (Islot de l’Observatoire)[[78]].
The bay is two hundred toises[[79]] long, and fifty deep; high mountains surround it, and secure it against all winds; and the sea there is always as smooth as in a bason.
We anchor in Bay Bougainville.
We anchored at three o’clock in the entrance of the bay, in twenty-eight fathom of water; and we immediately sent our tow-lines on shore, in order to warp into the bottom of the bay. The Etoile having let go her off anchor in too great a depth of water, drove upon the Isle of the Observatory; and before she could haul-tight the warps which she had sent a-shore, to steady her, her stern came within a few feet of this little isle, though she had still thirty fathom of water. The N. E. side of this isle is not so steep. We spent the rest of the day in mooring, with the head towards the offing, having one anchor a-head in twenty-three fathom oozy sand; a kedge-anchor a-stern, almost close to the shore; and two hawsers fastened to the trees on the larboard-side; and two on board the Etoile, which was moored as we were. Near the rivulet we found two huts, made of branches, which seemed to have been abandoned long ago. In 1765 I got one of bark constructed there, in which I left some presents for the Indians, which chance might conduct thither; and at the top of it I placed a white flag: we found the hut destroyed; the flag, with the presents, being carried off.
On the 18th, in the morning, I established a camp on shore, in order to guard the workmen, and the various effects which we landed; we likewise sent all our casks on shore, to refit them and prepare them with sulphur; we made pools of water for the use of those who were employed in washing, and hauled our long-boat a-shore, because she wanted a repair. We passed the remainder of December in this bay, where we provided ourselves with wood; and even with planks at our ease. Every thing facilitated this work: the roads were ready made through the woods; and there were more trees cut down than we wanted, which was the work of the Eagle’s crew in 1765. Here we likewise heeled ship, boot-topped and mounted eighteen guns. The Etoile had the good fortune to stop her leak; which, since her departure from Montevideo, was grown as considerable as before her repair at the Encenada. By bringing her by the stern, and taking off part of the sheathing forward, it appeared that the water entered at the scarsing of her stern. This was remedied; and it was during the whole voyage, a great comfort to the crew of that vessel, who were almost worn out by the continual exercise of pumping.
Observations astronomical and meteorological.
M. Verron, in the first days, brought his instruments upon the Isle of the Observatory; but past most of his nights there in vain. The sky of this country, which is very bad for astronomers, prevented his making any observation for the longitude; he could only determine by three observations with the quadrant, that the south latitude of the little isle is 53° 50′ 25″. He has likewise determined the flowing of the tide in the entrance to the bay, at 00h 59′. The water never rose here above ten feet. During our stay here the thermometer was generally between 8° and 9°, it fell once to 5°, and the highest it ever rose to was 12½°. The sun then appeared without clouds, and its rays, which are but little known here, melted part of the snow that lay on the mountains of the continent. M. de Commerçon, accompanied by the prince of Nassau, profited of such days for botanizing. He had obstacles of every kind to surmount, yet this wild soil had the merit of being new to him, and the straits of Magalhaens have filled his herbals with a great number of unknown and interesting plants. |Description of this part of the straits.| We were not so successful in hunting and fishing, by which we never got any thing, and the only quadruped we saw here, is a fox, almost like an European one, which was killed amidst the workmen.
We likewise made several attempts to survey the neighbouring coasts of the continent, and of Terra del Fuego; the first was fruitless. I set out on the 22d at three o’clock in the morning with Mess. de Bournand and du Bouchage, intending to go as far as Cape Holland, and to visit the harbours that might be found on that part of the coast. When we set out it was calm and very fine weather. An hour afterwards, a light breeze at N. W. sprung up, but immediately after, the wind shifted to S. W. and blew very fresh. We strove against it for three hours together, under the lee of the shore, and with some difficulty got into the mouth of a little river, which falls into a sandy creek, covered by the eastern head of Cape Forward. We put in here, hoping that the foul weather would not last long. This hope served only to wet us thoroughly by the rain, and to make us quite chilled with cold. We made us a hut of branches of trees in the woods, in order to pass the night there a little more under shelter. These huts serve as palaces to the natives of these climates; but we had not yet learnt their custom of living in them. The cold and wet drove us from our lodging, and we were obliged to have recourse to a great fire, which we took care to keep up, endeavouring to shelter us against the rain, by spreading the sail over us which belonged to our little boat. The night was dreadful, wind and rain encreased, and we could do nothing else but return at break of day. We arrived on board our frigate at eight of the clock in the morning, happy to have been able to take shelter there; for the weather became so much worse soon after, that we could not have thought of coming back again. During two days there was a real tempest, and the mountains were all covered with snow again. However, this was the very middle of summer, and the sun was near eighteen hours above the horizon.
Discovery of several ports on Terra del Fuego.
Some days after I undertook a new course, more successfully, for visiting part of Terra del Fuego, and to look for a port there, opposite Cape Forward; I then intended to cross the straits to Cape Holland, and to view the coasts from thence till we came to Bay Françoise, which was what we could not do on our first attempt. I armed the long boat of the Boudeuse, and the Etoile’s barge, with swivel guns and muskets, and on the 27th, at four o’clock in the morning, I went from on board with Messrs. de Bournand, d’Oraison, and the prince of Nassau. We set sail at the west point of Bay Françoise, in order to cross the straits to Terra del Fuego, where we landed about ten o’clock, at the mouth of a little river, in a sandy creek, which is inconvenient even for boats. However, in a case of necessity, the boats might go up the river at high water, where they would find shelter. We dined on its banks, in a pleasant wood, under the shade of which were several huts of the savages. From this station, the western point of Bay Françoise bore N. W. by W. ½W. and we reckoned ourselves five leagues distant from it.
After dinner we proceeded by rowing along the coast of Terra del Fuego; it did not blow much from the westward, but there was a hollow sea. We crossed a great inlet, of which we could not see the end. Its entrance, which is about two leagues wide, is barred in the middle by a very high island. The great number of whales which we saw in this part, and the great rolling sea, inclined us to imagine that this might well be a strait leading into the sea pretty near Cape Horn. |Meeting with savages.| Being almost come to the other side, we saw several fires appear, and become extinct; afterwards they remained lighted, and we distinguished some savages upon the low point of a bay, where I intended to touch. We went immediately to their fires, and I knew again the same troop of savages which I had already seen on my first voyage in the straits. We then called them Pécherais, because that was the first word which they pronounced when they came to us, and which they repeated to us incessantly, as the Patagonians did their shawa. For this reason we gave them that name again this time. I shall hereafter have an opportunity to describe these inhabitants of the wooded parts of the strait. The day being upon the decline, we could not now stay long with them. They were in number about forty, men, women, and children; and they had ten or a dozen canoes in a neighbouring creek. We left them in order to cross the bay, and enter into an inlet, which, the night coming on, prevented us from executing. We passed the night on the banks of a pretty considerable river, where we made a great fire, and where the sails of our boats, which were pretty large, served us as tents; the weather was very fine, although a little cold.
Bay and port of Beaubassin.
The next morning we saw that this inlet was actually a port, and we took the soundings of it, and of the bay. |Its description.| The anchorage is very good in the bay, from forty to twelve fathoms, bottom of sand, small gravel and shells. It shelters you against all dangerous winds. Its easterly point may be known by a very large cape, which we called the Dome. To the westward is a little isle, between which and the shore, no ship can go out of the bay; you come into the port by a very narrow pass, and in it you find ten, eight, six, five, and four fathoms, oozy bottom; you must keep in the middle, or rather come nearer the east side, where the greatest depth is. The beauty of this anchoring place determined us to give it the name of bay and port of Beaubassin. If a ship waits for a fair wind, she need anchor only in the bay. If she wants to wood and water, or even careen, no properer place for these operations can be thought of than the port of Beaubassin.
I left here the chevalier de Bournand, who commanded the long boat, in order to take down as minutely as possible all the information relative to this important place, and then to return to the ships. For my part, I went on board the Etoile’s barge with Mr. Landais, one of the officers of that store-ship, who commanded her, and I continued my survey. We proceeded to the westward, and first viewed an island, round which we went, and found that a ship may anchor all round it, in twenty-five, twenty-one, and eighteen fathoms, sand and small gravel. On this isle there were some savages fishing. As we went along the coast, we reached a bay before sun-set, which affords excellent anchorage for three or four ships. |Bay de la Cormorandiere.| I named it bay de la Cormorandiere, on account of an apparent rock, which is about a mile to E. S. E. of it. At the entrance of the bay we had fifteen fathoms of water, and in the anchoring place eight or nine; here we passed the night.
On the 29th at day break we left bay de la Cormorandiere, and went to the westward by the assistance of a very strong tide. We passed between two isles of unequal size, which I named the two Sisters (les deux Soeurs). They bear N. N. E. and S. S. W. with the middle of Cape Forward, from which they are about three leagues distant. A little farther we gave the name of Sugar-loaf (Pain de sucre) to a mountain of this shape, which is very easy to be distinguished, and bears N. N. E. and S. S. W. with the southern point of the same cape; and about five leagues from the Cormorandiere we discovered a fine bay, with an amazing fine port at the bottom of it; a remarkable water-fall in the interior part of the port, determined me to call them Bay and Port of the Cascade. |Bay and Port of the Cascade.| The middle of this bay bears N. E. and S. W. with Cape Forward. The safe and convenient anchorage, and the facility of taking in wood and water, shew that there is nothing wanting in it.
|Description of the country.|
The cascade is formed by the waters of a little river, which runs between several high mountains; and its fall measures about fifty or sixty toises, (i. e. 300 or 360 feet French measure): I have gone to the top of it. The land is here and there covered with thickets, and has some little plains of a short spungy moss; I have here been in search of vestiges of men, but found none, for the savages of this part seldom or never quit the sea-shores, where they get their subsistence. Upon the whole, all that part of Terra del Fuego, reckoning from opposite Elizabeth island, seems to me, to be a mere cluster of great, unequal, high and mountainous islands, whose tops are covered with eternal snow. I make no doubt but there are many channels between them into the sea. The trees and the plants are the same here as on the coast of Patagonia; and, the trees excepted, the country much resembles the Malouines.
Usefulness of the three ports before described.
I here add a particular chart which I have made of this interesting part of the coast of Terra del Fuego. Till now, no anchoring place was known on it, and ships were careful to avoid it. The discovery of the three ports which I have just described on it, will facilitate the navigation of this part of the straits of Magalhaens. Cape Forward has always been a point very much dreaded by navigators. It happens but too frequently, that a contrary and boisterous wind prevents the doubling of it, and has obliged many to put back to Bay Famine. Now, even the prevailing winds may be turned to account, by keeping the shore of Terra del Fuego on board, and putting into one of the above-mentioned anchoring places, which can be done almost at any time, by plying in a channel where there is never a high sea for ships. From thence all the boards are advantageous, and if one takes care to make the best of the tides, which here begin to have more effect again, it will no longer be difficult to get to Port Galant.
We passed a very disagreeable night in Port Cascade. It was very cold, and rained without intermission. The rain continued throughout almost the whole 30th day of December. At five o’clock in the morning we went out of the port, and sailed across the strait with a high wind and a great sea, considering the little vessel we were in. We approached the coast nearly at an equal distance between Cape Holland and Cape Forward. It was not now in question to view the coast, being happy enough to run along it before the wind, and being very attentive to the violent squalls, which forced us to have the haliards and sheets always in hand. A false movement of the helm was even very near oversetting the boat, as we were crossing Bay Françoise. At last I arrived on board the frigate, about ten o’clock in the morning. During my absence, M. Duclos Guyot had taken on board what we had on shore, and made every thing ready for weighing; accordingly, we began to unmoor in the afternoon.
Departure
from Bougainville Bay.
The 31st of December at four of the clock in the morning we weighed, and at six o’clock we left the bay, being towed by our boats. It was calm; at seven a light breeze sprung up at N. E. which became more fresh in the day; the weather was clear till noon, when it became foggy and rainy. At half an hour past eleven, being in the middle of the strait[[80]], we discovered, and set the Cascade bearing S. E. the Sugar Loaf S. E. by E. ½ E. Cape Forward[[81]] E. by N. Cape Holland[[82]] W. N. W. ½ W. From noon till six in the evening we doubled Cape Holland. |Anchorage in Fortescue Bay.| It blew a light breeze, which abating in the evening, and the sky being covered, I resolved to anchor in the road of Port Galant, where we anchored in sixteen fathoms, coarse gravel, sand and small coral; Cape Galant bearing S. W. 3° W[[83]]. We had soon reason to congratulate ourselves on being in safety; for, during the night, it rained continually, and blew hard at S. W.
1768.
January.
We began the year 1768 in this bay, called Bay Fortescue, at the bottom of which is Port Galant[[84]]. The plan of the bay and port is very exact in M. de Gennes. We have had too much leisure to confirm it, having been confined there for three weeks together, by such weather as one cannot form any idea of, from the worst winter at Paris. |Account of the obstacles we met with.| It is but just to let the reader partake in some measure of the disagreeable circumstances on these unlucky days, by giving the sketch of our stay in this place.
Vestiges we found of the passage of English ships.
My first care was to send out people to view the coast as far as Bay Elizabeth, and the isles with which the straits of Magalhaens are full in this part. From our anchoring-place we perceived two of these isles, which Narborough[[85]] calls Charles and Monmouth. Those which are farther off he calls the Royal Isles, and the westermost of all, he names Rupert Island. The west winds preventing us from making sail, we moored with a stream-anchor. The rain did not keep our people from going on shore, where they found vestiges of the passage and touching of English ships; viz. some wood, lately sawed and cut down; some spice-laurel trees[[86]], lately stripped of their bark; a label of wood, such as in marine arsenals, are generally put upon pieces of cloth, &c. on which we very distinctly read the words, Chatham, March, 1766; they likewise found upon several trees, initial letters and names, with the date of 1767.
Astronomical and nautical observations.
M. Verron, who had got all his instruments carried upon the peninsula that forms the harbour, made an observation there at noon, with a quadrant; and found 53° 40′ 41″ S. lat. This observation, and the bearings of Cape Holland, taken from hence; and those of the same cape, taken the 16th of December, upon the point from Cape Forward, determine the distance of Port Galant to Cape Forward, to twelve leagues. Here he likewise observed, by the azimuth-compass, the declination of the needle 22° 30′ 32″ N. E. and its inclination from the elevation of the pole 11° 11′. These are the only observations he was able to make, during almost a whole month; the nights being as gloomy as the days. On the third of January, there was a fine opportunity, of determining the longitude of this bay; by means of an eclipse of the moon, which began here at 10 hours, 30′ in the evening; but the rain, which had been continual in the day-time, lasted likewise through the whole night.
The 4th and 5th the weather was intolerable; we had rain, snow, a sharp cold air, and a storm; it was such weather as the Psalmist describes, saying, Nix, grando, glacies, spiritus procellarum. On the third I had sent out a boat on purpose, to endeavour to find out an anchorage on the coast of Terra del Fuego; and they found a very good one S. W. of the isles Charles and Monmouth. I likewise gave them orders to observe the direction which the tide took in that channel. With their assistance, and the knowledge of anchoring-places, both to the northward and southward, I would have made sail, even though the wind should be contrary; but it was never moderate enough for me to do it. Upon the whole, during our stay in this part of the straits, we observed constantly, that the tides set in as in the part of the narrows or guts; i. e. that the flood sets to the eastward, and the ebb to the westward.
Interview with and description of the Pecherais.
On the 6th, in the afternoon, we had some fair moments; and the wind too seemed to blow from S. E. we had already unmoored; but the moment we were setting sail, the wind came back to W. N. W. in squalls, which obliged us to moor again immediately. That day some savages came to visit us. Four periaguas appeared in the morning, at the point of Cape Galant; and, after stopping there for some time, three advanced into the bottom of the bay, whilst one made towards our frigate. After hesitating for about half an hour, they at last brought her along-side of us, with repeated shouts of Pecherais. In this boat were a man, a woman, and two children. The woman remained to take care of the periagua; and the man alone came on board, with much confidence, and with an air of gaiety. Two other periaguas[periaguas] followed the example of the first; and the men came on board the frigate with their children. Here they were soon very happy and content. We made them sing, and dance, let them hear music; and, above all, gave them to eat, which they did with much appetite. They found every thing good; whether bread, salt meat, or fat, they devoured what was offered to them. We found it rather difficult to get rid of these troublesome and disgusting guests; and we could not determine them to return to their periaguas, till we sent pieces of salt flesh down into them, before their faces. They shewed no surprise, neither at the sight of the ships, nor at the appearance of various objects, that offered themselves to their eyes; this certainly shews, that in order to be capable of being surprised at the work of art, one must have some fundamental ideas of it. These unpolished men, considered the master-pieces of human industry, in the same light as the laws of nature and its phenomena. We saw them often on board, and on shore, during several days which they stayed in Port Galant.
These savages are short, ugly, meagre, and have an insupportable stench about them. They are almost naked; having no other dress than wretched seal-skins, too little for them to wrap themselves in; these skins serve them equally as roofs to their huts, and as sails to their periaguas. They have likewise some guanaco-skins; but they are in small number. Their women are hideous, and seemed little regarded by the men. They are obliged to steer their periaguas, and to keep them in repair; often swimming to them, notwithstanding the cold, through the sea-weeds, which serve as a harbour to these periaguas, at a pretty distance from the shore, and scooping out the water that may have got into them. On the shore they gather wood and shells, without the men partaking in any thing of their labour; nor are those women, who have children at their breast, exempted from their task. They carry their children on their backs, folded in the skins, which serve them as dresses.
Their periaguas are made of bark, ill connected with rushes, and caulked with moss in the seams. In the middle of each is a little hearth of sand, where they always keep up some fire. Their arms are bows and arrows, made of the wood of a holly-leaved berberry-bush, which is common in the straits; the bow-string is made of a gut, and the arrows are armed with points of stone, cut with sufficient skill; but these weapons are made use of, rather against game, than against enemies; for they are as weak as the arms, which are destined to manage them. We likewise saw amongst them, some bones of fish, about a foot long, sharp at the end, and toothed along one side. This is, perhaps, a dagger; or rather, as I think, an instrument for fishing: they fix it to a long pole, and use it as a harpoon. These Indians, men, women, and children, live promiscuously in their huts, in the middle of which they light a fire. They live chiefly on shell-fish; however, they have likewise dogs, and nooses, or springes, made of whalebone. I have observed, that they had all of them bad teeth; and, I believe, we must attribute that to their custom of eating the shell-fish boiling hot, though half raw.
Upon the whole, they seem to be good people; but they are so weak, that one is almost tempted to think the worse of them on that account. We thought we observed that they were superstitious and believed in evil genii; and, among them, the same persons, who conciliate the influence of those spirits, are their physicians and priests. Of all the savages I ever saw, the Pecherais are those who are most deprived of every convenience; they are exactly, in what may be called, a state of nature; and, indeed, if any pity is due to the fate of a man, who is his own master, has no duties or business to attend, is content with what he has, because he knows no better, I should pity these men; who, besides being deprived of what renders life convenient, must suffer the extreme roughness of the most dreadful climate in the world. These Pecherais, likewise, are the least numerous society of men I have met with in any part of the world; however, as will appear in the sequel, there are quacks among them: but as soon as more than one family is together, (by family, I understand father, mother, and children) their interests become complicated, and the individuals want to govern, either by force or by imposture. The name of family then changes into that of society; and though it were established amidst the woods, and composed only of cousins-german, a skilful observer would there discover the origin of all the vices, to which men, collected into whole nations, have, by growing more civilized, given names; vices that caused the origin, progress, and ruin of the greatest empires. Hence it follows, by the same principle, that in civilized societies, some virtues spring up, of which those who border on a state of nature are not susceptible.
The 7th and 8th the weather was so bad, that we could not by any means go from on board; in the night we drove, and were obliged to let go our sheet-anchor. At some intervals the snow lay four inches deep on the deck; and, at day-break, we saw that all the ground was covered with it, except the flat lands, the wetness of which melted the snow. The thermometer was about 5° and 4°; but fell to two degrees below the freezing-point. The weather was bad on the ninth in the afternoon. The Pecherais set out in order to come on board us. They had even spent much time at their toilet; I mean, they had painted their bodies all over, with red and white spots: but seeing our boats go from the ships, towards their huts, they followed them; but one periagua came on board the Etoile. She stayed but a short time there, and joined the others; who were very much the friends of our people. The women were, however, all retired into one hut; and the savages seemed uneasy, whenever one of our men attempted to go in. They invited them rather to come into the other huts, where they presented our gentlemen with muscles, which they sucked before they gave them away. They got some little presents, which they gladly accepted. They sung, danced, and appeared more gay, than one might expect from savages, whose outward behaviour is commonly serious.
Unlucky accident,
which befalls one of them.
Their joy was but of very short duration. One of their children, about twelve years old, the only one in the whole troop whose figure engaged our attention, was all at once seized with spitting of blood, and violent convulsions. The poor creature had been on board the Etoile, where the people had given him bits of glass not foreseeing the unhappy effect, which this present might have. These savages have a custom of putting pieces of talc into their throat and nostrils. Perhaps their superstition combines some powers with this kind of talisman; or, perhaps, they look on it as a preservative against some sickness they are subject to. The child, probably, had made the same use of this glass. His lips, gums, and palate, were cut in several places, and he bled continually.
This accident spread consternation and mistrust amongst them.[them.] They certainly suspected us of some bad action; for the first thing their juggler did, was to strip the child immediately of a linen jacket, which had been given him. He wanted to return it to the French; and upon their refusing it, he threw it at their feet. However, another savage, who, doubtless, loved clothes more than he feared enchantments, took it up immediately.
The juggler first laid the child down upon his back, in one of the huts; and, kneeling down between his legs, he bent himself upon him, and with his head and hands pressed the child’s belly as much as he could, crying out continually, without our being able to distinguish any articulate sounds in his cries. From time to time he got up, and seeming to hold the disease in his joined hands, he opened them all at once into the air, blowing as if he wanted to drive away some evil spirit. During this ceremony, an old woman in tears, howled in the sick child’s ears, enough to make him deaf. This poor wretch seemed to suffer as much from the remedy, as from the hurt he had received. The juggler gave him some respite, and went to fetch his habit of ceremony; after which, having his hair powdered, and his head adorned with two white wings, like those on Mercury’s cap, he began his rites again, with more confidence, but with no better success. The child then appearing to be worse, our chaplain administered[administered] baptism to him by stealth.
The officers returned on board, and told me what had happened on shore. I went thither immediately with M. de la Porte, our surgeon, who brought some milk and gruel with him. When we arrived, the patient was out of the hut; the juggler, who had now got a companion in the same dress, had begun again with his his operation on the belly, thighs, and back of the child. It was a pity to see them torment the poor creature, who suffered without complaining. His body was already bruised all over; and the doctors still continued to apply their barbarous remedy, with abundance of conjurations. The grief of the parents, their tears, the part which the whole troop took in this accident, and which broke out in the most expressive signs, afforded us a most affecting scene. The savages certainly perceived that we partook of their distress; at least they seemed to be less mistrustful. They suffered us to come near the patient; and our surgeon examined his bloody mouth, which his father and another Pecherais sucked alternately. We had much trouble to persuade them to use milk; we were obliged to taste it before them several times; and, notwithstanding the invincible objection of their jugglers, the father at last resolved to let his son drink it; he even accepted a pot-full of gruel. The jugglers were jealous of our surgeon; whom, however, they seemed at last to acknowledge as an able juggler. They even opened for him a leather bag, which they always wear hanging by their side; and which contains their feathered cap, some white powder, some talc, and other instruments of their art; but he had hardly looked into it, when they shut it again. We likewise observed, that whilst one of the jugglers was conjuring the distemper of the patient, the other seemed to be busied solely in preventing, by his enchantments, the effect of the bad luck, which they suspected we had brought upon them.
We returned on board, towards night, and the child seemed to suffer less; however, he was plagued with almost continual puking, which gave us room to fear that some glass was got down into his stomach. We had afterwards sufficient reason to believe our conjectures had been true; for about two o’clock in the morning, we on board heard repeated howls; and, at break of day, though the weather was very dreadful, the savages went off. They, doubtless, fled from a place defiled by death, and by unlucky strangers, who they thought were come merely to destroy them. They were not able to double the westermost point of the bay: in a more moderate interval they set sail again; a violent squall carried them out into the offing, and dispersed their feeble vessels. How desirous they were of getting away from us! They left one of their periaguas, which wanted a repair on the shore, Satis est gentem effugisse nefandam. They are gone away, considering us as mischievous beings: but who would not pardon their resentment on this occasion? and, indeed, how great is the loss of a youth, who has escaped from all the dangers of childhood, to a body of men so very inconsiderable in number!
Continuation of bad weather.
The wind blew east with great violence, and almost without intermission, till the 13th, when the weather was mild enough in day-time; and we had even conceived hopes of weighing in the afternoon. The night between the 13th and 14th was calm. At half an hour past two in the morning we had unmoored, and hove a-peak. At six o’clock we were obliged to moor again, and the day was dreadful. The 15th, the sun shone almost the whole day; but the wind was too strong for us to leave the harbour.
Danger which the frigate is exposed to.
The 16th, in the morning, it was almost a calm; then came a breeze from the north, and we weighed, with the tide in our favour: it was then ebbing, and set to the westward. The winds soon shifted to W. and W. S. W. and we could never gain the Isle Rupert, with the favourable tide. The frigate sailed very ill; drove to leeward beyond measure; and the Etoile had an incredible advantage over us. We plyed all day between Rupert island, and a head-land of the continent, which we called the Point of the Passage, in order to wait for the ebb; with which I hoped either to gain the anchoring-place of Bay Dauphine, upon the isle of Louis le Grand, or that of Elizabeth bay[[87]]. But as we lost ground by plying, I sent a boat to sound to the S. E. of Rupert’s-island, intending to anchor there, till the tide became favourable. They made signal of an anchoring-place, and came to a grapnel there; but we were already too much fallen to leeward of it. We made one board in-shore, to endeavour to gain it on the other tack; the frigate missed stays twice; and it became necessary to wear; but at the very moment when, by the manœuvres, and by the help of our boats, she began to wear, the force of the tide made her come to the wind again; a strong current had already carried us within half a cable’s length of the shore. We let go our anchor in eight fathom: the anchor, falling upon rocks, came home, and our proximity to the shore did not allow us to veer away cable. We had now no more than three fathom and a half of water a-stern; and were only thrice the length of the ship from the shore, when a little breeze sprung up from thence, we immediately filled our sails, and the frigate fell to leeward: all our boats, and those of the Etoile, which came to our assistance, were a-head, towing her. We veered away our cable, upon which we had put a buoy; and near half of it was out, when it got foul between decks, and stopt the frigate, which then ran the greatest danger. We cut the cable, and by the prompt execution of this manœuvre, we saved the ship. The breeze at length freshened; and, after having made two or three unprofitable boards, I returned to Port Galant, where we anchored again in twenty fathom oozy bottom. Our boats, which I left to weigh our anchor, returned towards night with it and the cable. Thus this appearance of fine weather served only to give us cruel alarms.
Violent hurricane.
The day following was more stormy than all the preceding ones. The wind raised a mountainous sea in the channel; and we often saw several waves run in contrary directions. The storm appeared to abate towards ten o’clock; but at noon a clap of thunder, the only one we ever heard in this strait, was as it were the signal at which the wind again began to blow with more violence than in the morning. We dragged our anchor, and were obliged to let go our sheet-anchor, and strike our lower-yards and top-masts. Notwithstanding this, the shrubs and plants were now in flower, and the trees afforded a very brilliant verdure, which however was not sufficient to dispel that sadness which the repeated sight of this unlucky spot had cast over us. The most lively temper would be overcome in this dreadful climate, which is shunned by animals of every element, and where a handful of people lead a languid life, after having been rendered still more unfortunate by their intercourse with us.
Assertion concerning the channel of Sainte Barbe discussed.
On the 18th and 19th there were some intervals between the bad weather: we weighed our sheet anchor, squared our yards, and set up our top-masts; and I sent the Etoile’s barge, which was in so good a condition as to be able to go out in almost any weather, to view the channel of Sainte Barbe. According to the extract M. Frezier gives of the Journal of M. Marcant, who discovered and passed through it, this channel must bear S. W. and S. W. by S. from Bay Elizabeth. The barge returned on the 20th, and M. Landais, who commanded it, informed me, that having followed the track and marks taken notice of by M. Marcant, he had not found the true mouth, but only a narrow channel, closed by shoals of ice and the land, which it is the more dangerous to follow, as it has not a single good anchoring place, and as it is crossed in the middle by a sand covered with muscles. He then went all round the isle of Louis le Grand to the southward, and re-entered the channel of Magalhaens, without having found any other. He only saw a fine bay on the coast of Terra del Fuego, which is certainly the same with that which Beauchesne calls Nativity Bay. Upon the whole, by going S. W. and S. W. by S. from Bay Elizabeth, as Frezier says that Marcant did, you must cut through the middle of the isle of Louis le Grand.
|It is inhabited,
notwithstanding its small size.|
This information gave me room to believe that the channel of Sainte Barbe was opposite the very bay where we now lay. From the top of the mountains which surround Port Galant, we had often discovered southward of the isles Charles and Monmouth, a vast channel, full of little islands, and terminated by no land to the southward; but, as at the same time we perceived another inlet southward of the isle of Louis le Grand, we took that for the channel of St. Barbe, as being more conformable to Marcant’s account. As soon as we were sure that this inlet was no more than a deep bay, we no longer doubted that the channel of Sainte Barbe was opposite Port Galant, southward of Charles and Monmouth Islands. Indeed, reading over again the passage in Frezier, and comparing it with his chart of the strait, we saw that Frezier, according to Marcant’s report, places Elizabeth Bay, from whence the latter set sail, in order to enter into his channel, about ten or twelve leagues from Cape Forward. Marcant therefore must have mistaken Bay De Cordes for Bay Elizabeth, the former lying actually eleven leagues from Cape Forward, being a league eastward of Port Galant: setting sail from this bay, and standing S. E. and S. E. by S. he came along the westermost point of Charles and Monmouth isles, the whole of which he took for the isle of Louis le Grand; an error into which every good navigator may easily fall, unless he is well provided with good directions: and then he stood into the channel full of isles, of which we had a prospect from the top of the mountains.
Utility which would accrue from the knowledge of
the channel of Sainte Barbe.
The perfect knowledge of the channel of Sainte Barbe would be so much the more interesting, as it would considerably shorten the passing of the straits of Magalhaens. It does not take much time to come to Port Galant; the greatest difficulty before you come there, being to double Cape Forward, which is now rendered pretty easy, by the discovery of three ports upon Terra del Fuego: when you are once got to Port Galant, should the winds prevent your taking the ordinary channel, if they be ever so little upon the northerly points, the channel is open to you, opposite to this port; in twenty-four hours you can then be in the South Seas. I intended to have sent two barges into this channel which I firmly believe to be that of Sainte Barbe; they would have completely solved this problem, but the bad weather prevented their going out.
Exceeding violent squall.
The 21st, 22d, and 23d, squalls, snow, and rain, were continual. In the night between the 21st and 22d, there was a calm interval; it seemed that the wind afforded us that momentary repose, only in order to fall harder upon us afterwards. A dreadful hurricane came suddenly from S. S. W. and blew with such fury as to astonish the oldest seamen. Both our ships had their anchors come home, and were obliged to let go their sheet-anchor, lower the lower yards, and hand the top-masts: our mizen was carried away in the brails. Happily this hurricane did not last long. On the 24th the storm abated, we got calm weather and sun-shine, and put ourselves in a condition to proceed. Since our re-entering Port Galant, we took several ton weight of ballast, and altered our stowage, endeavouring by this means to make the frigate sail well again; and we succeeded in part. Upon the whole, whenever it is necessary to navigate in the midst of currents, it will always be found very difficult to manage such long vessels as our frigates generally are.
We leave Bay Fortescue.
On the 25th, at one o’clock in the morning, we unmoored, and hove a peek; at three o’clock we weighed, and were towed by our boats; the breeze was northerly; at half past five it settled in the east, and we set all our top-gallant and studding-sails, which are very seldom made use of here. We kept the middle of the strait, following its windings, for which Narborough justly calls it Crooked Reach. Between the Royal Isles and the continent, the strait is about two leagues wide; the channel between Rupert Isle and Point Passage, is not above a league broad; then there is the breadth of a league and a half between the isle of Louis le Grand and Bay Elizabeth, on the easterly point of which, there is a ledge covered with sea weeds, extending a quarter of a league into the sea.
Description of the strait from Cape Galant to the open sea.
From Bay Elizabeth the coast runs W. N. W. for about two leagues, till you come to the river which Narborough calls Bachelor, and Beauchesne, du Massacre; at the mouth of which, is an anchoring-place. This river is easily known; it comes from a deep valley; on the west, it has a high mountain; its westerly point is low, wooded, and the coast sandy. From the river Bachelor, to the entrance of the false strait or St. Jerom’s channel, I reckon three leagues, and the bearing is N. W. by W. The entrance of this channel seems to be half a league broad, and in the bottom of it, the lands are seen closing in to the northward. When you are opposite the river du Massacre, or Bachelor, you can only see this false strait, and it is very easy to take it for the true one, which happened even to us, because the coast then runs W. by S. and W. S. W. till Cape Quade, which stretching very far, seems to close in with the westerly point of the isle of Louis le Grand, and leave no outlet. Upon the whole, the safest way not to miss the true channel, is to keep the coast of Louis le Grand island on board, which may be done without any danger. The distance of St. Jerom’s channel to Cape Quade, is about four leagues, and this cape bears E. 9°[E. 9°] N. and W. 9° S. with the westerly point of the isle of Louis le Grand.
That island is about four leagues long, its north side runs W. N. W. as far as Bay Dauphine, the depth of which, is about two miles, and the breadth at the entrance, half a league; it then runs W. to its most westerly extremity, called Cape St. Louis. As, after finding out our error concerning the false strait, we run within a mile of the shore of Louis le Grand island, we distinctly saw Port Phelippeaux, which appeared to be a very convenient and well situated creek. At noon Cape Quade bore W. 13° S. two leagues distant, and Cape St. Louis, E. by N. about two leagues and a half off. The fair weather continued all day, and we bore away with all our sails set.
From Cape Quade the strait runs W. N. W. and N. W. by W. without any considerable turnings, from which it has got the name of Long-Lane, or Long-Reach, (Longue Rue). The figure of Cape Quade is remarkable. It consists of craggy rocks, of which, those forming its highest summits, do not look unlike ancient ruins. As far as this cape, the coasts are every where wooded, and the verdure of the trees softens the aspect of the frozen tops of the mountains. Having doubled Cape Quade, the nature of the country is quite altered. The strait is inclosed on both sides by barren rocks, on which there is no appearance of any soil. Their high summits are always covered with snow, and the deep vallies are filled with immense masses of ice, the colour of which bears the mark of antiquity. Narborough, struck with this horrid aspect, called this part, Desolation of the South, nor can any thing more dreadful be imagined.
Being opposite Cape Quade, the coast of Terra del Fuego seems terminated by an advanced cape, which is Cape Monday, and which I reckon is about fifteen leagues from Cape Quade. On the coast of the mainland, are three capes, to which we gave names. The first, which from its figure, we called Cap Fendu, or Split Cape, is about five leagues from Cape Quade, between two fine bays, in which the anchorage is safe, and the bottom as good as the sheltered situation. The other two capes received the names of our ships, Cap de l’Etoile, three leagues west of Cap Fendu, and Cap de la Boudeuse, in the same situation, and about the same distance from the Cape of the Etoile. All these lands are high and steep; both coasts appear clear, and seem to have good anchoring places, but happily, the wind being fair for our course, did not give us time to sound them. The strait in this part, called Longue Rue, is about two leagues broad; it grows more narrow towards Cape Monday, where it is not above four miles broad.
Dangerous night.
At nine o’clock in the evening, we were about three leagues E. by S. and E. S. E. off Cape Monday. It always blew very fresh from east, and the weather being fine, I resolved to continue my course during the night, making little sail. We handed the studding sails, and close-reefed the top-sails. Towards ten o’clock at night the weather became foggy, and the wind encreased so much, that we were obliged to haul our boats on board. It rained much, and the weather became so black at eleven, that we lost all sight of land. About half an hour after, reckoning myself a-breast of Cape Monday, I made signal to bring-to on the star-board tack, and thus we passed the rest of the night, filling or backing, according as we reckoned ourselves to be too near one or the other shore. This night we have been in one of the most critical situations during the whole voyage.
At half an hour past three, by the dawn of day, we had sight of the land, and I gave orders to fill. We stood W. by N. till eight o’clock, and from eight till noon, between W. by N. and W. N. W. The wind was always east, a little breeze, and very misty. From time to time we saw some parts of the coast, but often we entirely lost sight of it. At last, at noon, we saw Cape Pillar, and the Evangelists. The latter could only be seen from the mast-head. As we advanced towards the side of Cape Pillar, we discovered, with joy, an immense horizon, no longer bounded by lands, and a great sea from the west, which announced a vast ocean to us. The wind did not continue E. it shifted to W. S. W. and we ran N. W. till half an hour past two, when Cape Victory bore N. W. and Cape Pillar, S. 3° W.
End of the strait, and description of that part.
After passing Cape Monday, the north coast bends like a bow, and the strait opens to four, five, and six leagues in breadth. I reckon about sixteen leagues from Cape Monday to Cape Pillar, which terminates the south coast of the straits. The direction of the channel between these two capes, is W. by N. The southern coast is here high and steep, the northern one is bordered with islands and rocks, which make it dangerous to come near it: it is more prudent to keep the south coast on board. I can say no more concerning these last lands: I have hardly seen them, except at some short intervals, when the fogs allowed our perceiving but small parts of them. The last land you see upon the north coast, is Cape Victory (Cap des Victoires), which seems to be of middling height, as is Cape Deseado (Desiré), which is without the straits, upon Terra del Fuego, about two leagues S. W. of Cape Pillar. The coast between these two capes is bounded for near a league into the sea, by several little isles or breakers, known by the name of the Twelve Apostles.
Cape Pillar is a very high land, or rather a great mass of rocks, which terminates in two great cliffs, formed in the shape of towers, inclining to N. W. and making the extremity of the cape. About six or seven leagues N. W. of this cape, you see four little isles, called the Evangelists; three of them are low, the fourth, which looks like a hay-stack, is at some distance from the rest. They ly S. S. W. about four or five leagues off Cape Victory. In order to come out of the strait, it is indifferent whether you leave them to the south or northward; in order to go in, I would advise that they should be left to the northward. It is then likewise necessary to range along the southern coast; the northern one is bordered with little isles, and seems cut by large bays, which might occasion dangerous mistakes. From two o’clock in the afternoon, the winds were variable, between W. S. W. and W. N. W. and blew very fresh; we plyed till sun-setting, with all our sails set, in order to double the Twelve Apostles. |Departure taken from the strait of Magalhaens.| We were for a long while afraid we should not be able to do it, but be forced to pass the night still in the straits, by which means we might have been obliged to stay there more than one day. But about six o’clock in the evening we gave over plying; at seven, Cape Pillar was doubled, and at eight we were quite clear of the land, and advancing, all sails set, and with a fine northerly wind, into the westerly ocean. We then laid down the bearings whence I took my departure, in 52° 50′ S. lat. and 79° 9′ W. long, from Paris.
Thus, after constant bad and contrary weather at Port Galant, for twenty-six days together, thirty-six hours of fair wind, such as we never expected, were sufficient to bring us into the Pacific Ocean; an example, which I believe is the only one, of a navigation without anchoring from Port Galant to the open sea.
General observations on this navigation.
I reckon the whole length of the strait, from Cape Virgin (Mary) to Cape Pillar, at about one hundred and fourteen leagues. We employed fifty-two days to make them. I must repeat here, that from Cape Virgin to Cape Noir, we have constantly found the flood tide to set to the eastward, and the ebb to the westward, and that the tides are very strong; that they are not by much so rapid from Cape Noir to Port Galant, and that their direction is irregular there; that lastly, from Port Galant to Cape Quade, the tides are violent; that we have not found them very considerable from this cape to Cape Pillar, but that in all this part from Port Galant, the water is subject to the same laws which put them in motion from Cape Virgin; viz. that the flood runs towards the easterly, and the ebb towards the westerly seas. I must at the same time mention, that this assertion concerning the direction of the tides in the strait of Magalhaens, is absolutely contrary to what other navigators say they have observed there on this head. However, it would not be well if every one gave another account.
Upon the whole, how often have we regretted that we had not got the Journals of Narborough and Beauchesne, such as they came from their own hands, and that we were obliged to consult disfigured extracts of them: besides the affectation of the authors of such extracts, of curtailing every thing which is useful merely in navigation; likewise, when some details escape them that have a relation to that science, their ignorance of the sea-phrases makes them mistake necessary and usual expressions for vicious words, and they replace them by absurdities. All their aim is to compile a work agreeable to the effeminate people of both sexes, and their labour ends in composing a book that tires every body’s patience, and is useful to nobody[[88]].
Conclusions drawn from hence.
Notwithstanding the difficulties which we have met with in our passage of the strait of Magalhaens, I would always advise to prefer this course to that of doubling Cape Horn, from the month of September to the end of March. During the other months of the year, when the nights are sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen hours long, I would pass through the open sea. The wind a-head, and a high sea, are not dangerous; whereas, it is not safe to be under a necessity of sailing blindfold between the shores. Certainly there will be some obstacles in passing the straits, but this retardment is not entirely time lost. There is water, wood, and shells in abundance, sometimes there are likewise very good fish; and I make no doubt but the scurvy would make more havock among a crew, who should come into the South Seas by the way of Cape Horn, than among those who should enter the same Seas through the straits of Magalhaens: when we left it, we had no sick person on board.
END OF THE FIRST PART.
A
VOYAGE
ROUND THE
WORLD.