The Solomon Islands and Their Natives

by H. B. Guppy

THE JOURNAL OF GALLEGO.

We find in the prologue, with which Gallego commences his account of this voyage, an explanation not only of the principal object of the expedition, but also of the motive which led the Spanish navigator to draw up his narrative. It was for the propagation of the Christian faith amongst the peoples of the unknown islands of the West that this expedition was dispatched from the shores of Peru; and it was to guide the missionary to the field of his labour that the chief pilot drew up his relation of the voyage.

“I understand it to be incumbent”—thus Gallego writes—“on the men who follow the nautical profession, and have had the good fortune, in some degree, to take precedence of their fellows, to give an account of their success. And there are many reasons why it is necessary that from the ignorant these things should not be concealed. But for me, Christian piety affords the principal inducement; and especially since it moved the mind of that most Christian and most Catholic monarch, Don Philip, to write to his Governor, the most illustrious Lope Garcia de Castro, that he should convert every infidel to Christ. Imbued with this feeling, I have made it my first object, by means of this relation and of the additions made by me to the sea-chart, to enable the missionaries, who are to guide the infidels into the vineyard of the Lord, to know where these places will be found and to learn how to navigate these seas exposed to the fury of the winds, and how all dangers and enemies may be avoided. This is my design, unless I am otherwise convinced. Let the curious accept this brief discourse. It is from fear that its author has not wished to print it. This is my object: such is my desire. Receive, reader, this token of esteem, and be steadfast in God. Farewell!”

Before proceeding with the journal of Gallego, it is necessary for me to remark that I have relegated to an [appendix] much of that which is of interest to the geographical student. The reason is an obvious one and needs no further reference, since the narrative often takes the character of a sea-log, and the geographical and critical points involved are necessarily only of special interest.

The Governor, Lope Garcia de Castro, gave orders for the equipment of two ships of the fleet for the discovery of certain islands and a continent (tierra firme) concerning which His Catholic Majesty D. Philip II. had summoned a number of persons versed in mathematics in order to deliberate on the plan to be followed. After selecting the vessels, he nominated as General in command of the expedition his nephew, Alvaro de Mendana; as Commander of the troops (maestre de campo), Pedro de Ortega Valencia; as the Royal Ensign, D. Fernando Enriquez; and lastly, as Chief-Pilot—to quote the words of the journal—“myself, the said Hernando Gallego.”

The number of all that embarked on this voyage, including, besides the soldiers and sailors, four Franciscan friars and the servants, was a hundred. The preparations were made with such alacrity and willingness that the ships were fitted out with a dispatch that seemed scarcely credible; and on the 19th day of Nov., 1566,[204] being Wednesday, the day of St. Isabel, the two ships sailed from Callao, the port of the City of Kings, which is situated, as Gallego remarks, in 12¹⁄₂° S. lat. Shaping their course to the south-west, they had not to allow for the variation of the compass, since the needle pointed direct to the pole; and reference is here made in the journal to the circumstance that in Spain, more particularly in the city of Seville, the needle varied one point to the north-west. Steering in the same southerly and westerly direction until the 27th of the same month, they reached the latitude of 15¹⁄₂°, being by their reckoning 57 leagues[205] due west from the “morro de Uacaxique,” which was in the same latitude.[206] They now shaped their course west, following along the parallel of 15³⁄₄°, because “the Lord President had said that in the latitude of 15°, at a distance of 600 leagues from Peru, there were many rich islands.” With the wind “a long time in the south-east,” they accomplished a usual daily run of from 20 to 30 leagues. By the third of December, they were by their reckoning in the meridian of the bay of Fego,[207] which is stated by Gallego to be situated in 16° north of the equinoctial and 546 leagues due north of their position. On the 7th of the same month, the Chief-Pilot recorded his observation that the needle showed no variation from the pole and that it neither dipped nor tilted up.

[204] Vide [Note II.] of Geographical Appendix.

[205] Spanish leagues, 17¹⁄₂ to a degree, all through the narrative.

[206] I have not been able to find this name in any maps or charts.

[207] In the maps I have examined there is no bay of this name given.

“At this time,” he writes, “I inquired of the pilots as to our position; but I only provoked their obstinacy: and we went on our voyage sailing across the ocean to discover land. We noticed the flight of the birds that passed us in the morning and evening, and whence they came, and whither they went towards the setting sun. All this was no certain guide, as some flew north and others south; and there was nothing to justify our pursuing the flying-fish which abounded in those seas.” It is right that I should here allude to the importance attached by the voyagers of this period to the flight of birds which had often guided them to the discovery of new lands. It was for this reason, it will be remembered, that Columbus swerved from his westerly course when approaching the American Continent.

Gallego soon began to lose confidence in the opinion of the Lord President, because pursuing their course along the same parallel of 15³⁄₄° they failed to observe any signs of land. On the 12th of December, being in the meridian of the harbour of La Navidad (a port on the Pacific coast of Mexico, in lat. 19° 12′ N., long. 104° 46′ W.), there was a consultation between Gallego and the other pilots, when their latitudes were found to agree, but the dead reckoning of the pilots was greater. At length, on the 16th of the month, it was resolved by the Chief-Pilot to leave this parallel and head more to the northward, as they were now 620 leagues rather more than less from Peru and there were no signs of their approaching land.

Accordingly the course was altered; and for four days they ran west-by-north reaching the latitude of 13³⁄₄°, and accomplishing 166 leagues. During the 20th and 21st of December they steered north-west for 65 leagues, keeping a good look-out for land, but to no purpose. On the 22nd, after steering to the north-west-by-west for 30 leagues, they reached the parallel of 11°. They then coursed north-west until the 26th, which was St. Stephen’s Day, having gone by their reckoning 95 leagues and attaining, as their observations showed, a latitude rather under nine degrees (nueve grados escasos). It is worthy of note that in the daily record, which was at this time kept by Gallego of the course and distance and of the latitude obtained by observation, it usually happens that the computed latitude is considerably less than that observed.[208] In this journal, however, the latitudes are all those of observation except where it is otherwise mentioned. During the 27th and 28th of December they stood to the west-north-west for 60 leagues; and on the two following days they steered west-by-north for 62 leagues, reaching the latitude of 6¹⁄₄°. It is here recorded that the needle was deflected a third of a point to the north-west. On the last day of the year they sailed 30 leagues to the west, experiencing strong currents.

[208] This circumstance was, probably, due to a strong southerly drift.

Hitherto no signs of land had been observed, and, in consequence, symptoms of uneasiness showed themselves amongst the crews. As they sailed along, they were led in their imaginations to believe that they were always on the point of making the land; but no land appeared. “The pilots told me,” writes Gallego in his journal, “that I was the only person who was not disheartened after having sailed so many leagues without seeing land: and when I told them that they would suffer no ill and that, with the favour of God, they would see the land at the end of January, they all kept silent and made no reply.”

The 1st of January, 1567, found the Spanish voyagers steering west along the parallel of 6¹⁄₄°; and in accordance with the opinions of his fellow pilots, Gallego kept this course until the 7th, traversing in the time about 125 leagues.[209] They now experienced unsettled weather, the wind shifting to the north and subsequently to the north-east. Although steering west-by-south, they did not change their latitude as much as they expected; and, on the 10th, after accomplishing 30 leagues on this course during the past three days they found their latitude in 6¹⁄₂°. During the 11th and 12th with a very favourable wind they sailed 55 leagues to the west on the same parallel. Heavy rain-squalls here overtook them; and they ran along under easy sail.

[209] For one day, Saturday the 3rd, there is no record in the Journal of the distance run. To allow for this omission, I have taken 18 leagues as being the average daily run during this week.

“On this day,” writes Gallego, “they signalled from the “Almiranta” (the general’s ship) to ask where the land should be. I replied that it lay, in my opinion, 300 leagues away; and that at all events we should not sight it until the end of the month. At this time some of the people began to doubt whether we should ever see the land. But I always told them that, if God was with them, it would be His pleasure that they should not suffer ill.” During the 13th they steered west 25 leagues and found themselves in the parallel of 6°. On the following day they ran in the same direction for 30 leagues, experiencing much rain and varying winds. Their water supply was failing, and the minds of many were the more depressed; for these reasons they ran on with eased sheets and did not shorten sail.

But the long-expected land was near, and I will permit Gallego for the time to tell his own story. “On the Thursday the 15th of January, we had heavy showers of rain and such thunder and lightning as we had not seen in all the voyage. We were distant from the land of Peru, on the course which we had steered, 1450 leagues. In the following[210] morning we ran with a light wind 15 leagues south-west-by-west, and were in the latitude of 6¹⁄₂°. A seaman went to the top and discovered land in the shape of a small island, which appeared on the port hand to the south-west-by-west. We were about six leagues from it, because being a low island it could not be seen at a greater distance. Keeping away, we reached it at sunset. This island is low and level. It has many reefs around it, and has quite a bay of the sea in the middle of it. After we had arrived, I found the latitude to be 6³⁄₄°. We were eager to send a boat in; but, however, it was thought best to await the arrival of the ‘Almiranta’ which was much behind us.

[210] The word “following” has been added by me, since from the subsequent remarks of Gallego, it is evident that this land was sighted on the 16th.

“In the meantime seven canoes full of people started from the island. Some turned back to the shore and the remainder came off to the ship. But when they saw so many persons, they returned to the beach and made great bonfires. That night they put up flags, seemingly for the protection of the island. We were not able to determine whether they were mats of palm-leaves or of cotton, they were bleached so white.[211] The people in the canoes were naked and of a tawny hue. When the ‘Almiranta’ arrived, we agreed that no boats should land until the next day, as it was then evening. And when it dawned, it blew so strong from the north-west that we drifted a quarter of a league to leeward of the island. I wished to reach it, but could not, as the wind was so strong that we could carry no sails. I advised that, if we beat up to reach the island with the wind so strong and contrary, the ships might be broken in pieces (on the reefs); that it would not be wise to run the risk of losing all our lives for an island so small; and that seeing that the island was inhabited, the rest could not be far away. Although being so near to this island, we could not get bottom with 200 fathoms.”

[211] Mats of very fine quality are manufactured in many of the Pacific islands.

The decision of Gallego naturally caused much discontent amongst the crews. “The soldiers murmured”—thus the Journal continues—“because they were unwilling to leave this island, notwithstanding that they would run the chance of losing their lives. Being weary of the voyage, they took no pains to conceal their displeasure. But I cheered them and consoled them with the assurance that they would meet with no misfortune, and that with the grace of God, I would give them more land than they would be able to people; for this island (as I pointed out to them) was not more than five or six leagues in size. I gave it the name of the Isle of Jesus, because we arrived at it on the day after that which we accounted the 15th of January.”[212]

[212] It is scarcely possible to identify this island with any of the islands marked in the latest Admiralty charts. Vide [Note III.] of the Geographical Appendix.

As the Spanish voyagers were now approaching the scene of their future discoveries, their course becomes of peculiar interest to the historical geographer.[213] Continuing their voyage on the 17th of January, they had before them a long and tedious passage, having to contend with contrary winds and being swept north and south in turns by the currents. On the 23rd, they were in the latitude of 6°, and on the 28th in 5¹⁄₂°. At length on Sunday the 1st of February, when they were according to their reckoning 165 leagues from the Isle of Jesus, they discovered two leagues away[214] some banks of reefs with some islets in the middle of them. “These shoals”—as described by Gallego—“ran obliquely from north-east to south-west. We were not able”—so he writes—“to get their extremity within our range of sight; but as far as we could see them they extended more than fifteen leagues. We gave them the name of ‘Los Bajos de la Candelaria,’ because we saw them on Candlemas Eve: and I took the latitude near them, when we lay east and west with their centre, and found it to be 6¹⁄₄°.” On referring to the present Admiralty charts, it will be noticed that the name “Candelaria Reef,” is applied to an atoll lying about eighty miles to the north of the large island of Isabel in the Solomon Group and named “El Roncador” by Maurelle the Spanish navigator in 1781. Now, seeing that this atoll is not more than six miles across, it cannot possibly be identical with the extensive reefs which are above described by Gallego under the name of the Candelaria Shoals. As shown in the appendix,[215] it is highly probable that these shoals are the same with those which lie about 35 miles to the north of the Roncador Reef, where they constitute an atoll fifty miles in width which was discovered by the Dutch navigators Le Maire and Schouten in 1616, and was named “Ontong Java” by Tasman in 1643.

[213] I would direct the nautical reader to [Note V.] of the Geographical Appendix which refers to Gallego’s observations of latitude in this group. He will thus be saved some confusion in comparing the Spanish latitudes with those of the present charts.

[214] Thus the distance of these shoals from the Isle of Jesus would be probably about 167 leagues in all. Figueroa gives the distance as 160 leagues.

[215] Vide [Note IV.] of the Geographical Appendix.

Leaving these shoals, they steered south-west, expecting to sight land, which could not have been, in the opinion of Gallego, more than fifty leagues distant. During the night, however, they had to heave-to on account of the heavy weather; and on the following day, which was the day of our Lady of Candlemas, they experienced the same weather and were obliged to take in all sail. During the next day, which was the 4th of February, the weather improved; and steering at first west-by-north they subsequently stood to the south-west; and as night approached they shortened sail, in the event of there being other reefs and shoals such as those they had already passed. The prevailing winds had been north-west; but on the following day the wind went round to the west and fell very light. For four days they had been unable to take observations on account of the thick weather. On the 5th,[216] their latitude was found in 7° 8´, from which Gallego inferred that in those four days they had drifted fifteen leagues to the south-by-west. They now made sail and headed north.[217] (?)

[216] There is apparently an error in the journal with reference to this date, since the 6th is omitted altogether.

[217] The subsequent remarks relative to the course show that there is here an error in the M.S., or in the original journal.

“This day,” writes Gallego, “was Saturday, the 7th of February, and the 80th day since we set out from Callao, the port of the City of the Kings. In the morning I ordered a seaman to go aloft to the top and scan the south for land, because there seemed to me to be in that quarter an elevated mass; and the seaman reported land. The land soon became visible to us; and a signal of our discovery was made to the ‘Almiranta’ which was half a league from the ‘Capitana’ (Gallego’s vessel). Every one received the news with feelings of great joy and gratitude for the favour which God had granted them through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, the Glorious Mother of God, whom we all believed to be our mediator; and the ‘Te Deum laudamus’ was sung.”

They were distant from the land, when they first saw it, about 15 leagues. It is described in the journal as “very high.” Turning the ships’ heads in that direction, after they had gone 3 or 4 leagues, they discovered much more land belonging to the same island which appeared to be a continent. They did not get up to it until the evening of the next day, which was Sunday the 8th of February.

“Shortly after we arrived,” continues Gallego in his narrative, “many large and small canoes came off to see us, displaying signs of amity. But they did not dare to come alongside the vessels; and as we approached the land, they kept away. However the General threw them some coloured caps, and being thus assured they came alongside the ship. The boat was launched, and in it went Juan Enriquez with eight musketeers and target-men (rodeleros) to see if they could find a port to anchor in, and also to search for the place whence the canoes had come. The rest of the natives became more confident, and some of them came on board the ship. As they behaved well, we gave them things to eat and drink; and they remained on board until it began to grow dark, when they got into their canoes and went ashore. And those who had gone away in the boat, seeing that it was getting dusk, returned without having found any port. As soon as it was dark we stood out to sea, and the natives in the canoes returned to their homes. They told us that for the sake of friendship we should have gone with them, and that they would have entertained us and given us plenty to eat.

“We stood to windward that night with a light wind; and the currents carried us more than three leagues to the west-north-west, bringing us over some reefs on which we might have been lost as the sea was breaking around them. Finding ourselves in seven fathoms of water, we at once made course to stand clear of them. We remained under easy canvas until it dawned, when we saw that the currents had carried us right upon the shoals; and as the sea broke around us, we made more sail. I hailed the ‘Almiranta’ to make the best of her way out of her position among the shoals; and we accordingly stood away until we found a sufficient depth.”

Juan Enriquez was now dispatched in the boat to find a harbour for the ships; but he was deterred by the sight of all the reefs and returned to the ship. He was ordered by the General to go back again and carry out his search, and “I told him”—adds Gallego—“that it was necessary for the safety of the ships that he should find a port without delay.” The position of the Spanish vessels was a truly critical one; and only those who have been similarly situated in a sailing ship in unsurveyed waters, studded with unknown coral reefs, can realise how anxious the moment was.

“Committing ourselves to God”—thus Gallego writes—“I sent a man aloft to the fore-top, and placed another on the bowsprit, and I told them to notice where the shoals were white. The sounding-lead was kept in hand; and in the event of our having to go about or to anchor, we stood by the sheets and bowlines and had the anchor cleared. I steered for the place where we found seven fathoms of water, as it seemed to me that we should not find a less depth. The boat had not yet reached the shore, so I determined to sound and I got twelve fathoms with a clear bottom; and farther on it was deeper and also clear of rocks. Although it was mid-day, a star appeared to us over the entrance of the reef. Taking it as a guide and as a good omen, we were cheered in spirit and became more hopeful. As we proceeded, the water deepened little by little: and I informed the General that we were already clear of the reefs . . . I signalled to the ‘Almiranta’ to follow us. As we neared the harbour where the boat had gone, they signalled to us that they had found a good anchorage. Presently we entered the harbour with the star over the bow, and we anchored, the ‘Almiranta’ entering shortly afterwards. At the entrance of the port is a rock (or islet), in size larger than the ship.

“It was the day of Santa Polonia, the 9th of February. The harbour, which is in the latitude of 7° 50′, we named the port of Santa Isabel del Estrella; and we named the island, Santa Isabel. The Indians called the island Camba; and their cacique is named Billebanarra. This harbour lies nearly in the middle of the north coast of the island, and is 26 leagues north-east and south-west from the reefs.[218] Having disembarked with the other captains, I took possession of the island in the name of His Majesty. A cross was erected: and I chose a convenient place for building a brigantine.”

[218] The reefs, here referred to, are evidently the Candelaria Shoals. This bearing of the harbour with these shoals does not warrant the position which has been assigned to Estrella Bay in the present Admiralty [Chart], its position there being due south of these reefs.

On the following day, Gallego landed with the carpenters; and they began with all diligence to fell the trees and to saw the planks for the construction of the brigantine. Meanwhile the General had sent Pedro Sarmiento with thirty men into the interior. They penetrated about five leagues, and met with some Indians, one of whom they took as a hostage. This native was treated kindly by the General; and he was set at liberty in order that he might carry a favourable account to the other natives of the island. During this incursion, a soldier had been struck by an arrow, but received no hurt. Shortly afterwards, a larger force was dispatched under Pedro de Ortega to explore the interior. The expedition included 52 persons, and comprised 35 soldiers, with some seamen and negroes. They were absent seven days from the ship; and from the account of Gallego, we may infer that but little discretion was employed in their dealings with the natives. They burned “many temples dedicated to the worship of snakes, toads, and other insects;” and, as the result of such proceedings, two soldiers were wounded, one of whom subsequently died of tetanus. His name was Alonzo Martin, and he bore the character of a good soldier.

“These people,” writes the Chief Pilot, “are tawny and have crisp hair. They go naked, wearing only short aprons of palm leaves. They have as food some maizes or roots which they call benaus and plenty of fish. They are, in my opinion, a clean race, and I am certain that they eat human flesh.” On the 15th of March, whilst the Spaniards were at mass on shore, a fleet of fourteen canoes arrived at the place where the brigantine was being built. The cacique, who was in command, sent the General a present of a quarter of a boy, including the arm and hand, together with some roots (benaus), which he requested him to accept. In order that the natives should understand that the Spaniards did not eat human flesh, the General ordered it to be buried in their presence, at which they were abashed and hung their heads, and returned to an islet which was situated at the entrance of the harbour. This cacique, who is termed in the Journal the Taurique Meta, lived at a place fifteen leagues from the harbour to the west-by-north. Pedro de Ortega, with the two pilots, Pedro Roanges and Juan Enriquez, were sent with thirty soldiers and four Indians to visit the place where this taurique lived. They were absent four days, and effected nothing except the capture of four Indians, two of whom they retained as hostages in order to compel the natives to bring them provisions.

On the 4th of April, the brigantine was launched, and the rigging was set up. It having been resolved that she should proceed on a voyage to discover the other islands and harbours, Gallego, Ortega, with 18 soldiers[219] and 12 sailors, embarked on board; and on the 7th of April they left the port. Following the coast along to the south-east, they came to two islets, lying six leagues away from the port of Santa Isabel de la Estrella, and situated, according to an observation of Gallego, exactly in the latitude of 8°. On these islets were many palms which were deemed to be palmettos and cocoa-nut trees. “This land,” as the Chief Pilot remarks, “trends south-east and north-west. The needle stood a point to the north-east and there remained. Proceeding on our cruise, we saw many islets in the same direction . . . .[220] 5 leagues from where we had started; and we anchored at an islet in which we found a canoe and three houses. We landed 7 soldiers; and they went up towards the houses in search of the Indians, who, however, carried off their canoe. On reaching the houses, the soldiers found a quantity of provisions, which they brought on board the brigantine. Continuing our voyage along the coast, 17 canoes came out to us. In them came an exceedingly daring Indian, who, calling himself the cacique Babalay, held his bow towards us, and signified to us that we should go with him, and that, if we should not wish to go, he would carry us by force and would kill us. On account of his audacity, the “maestre de campo” ordered them to fire and knocked him down with a shot; and when those in the canoes saw him fall, they all fled to the shore. Shortly afterwards, I tacked towards the shore in order to make a port, as the wind was strong. In a little time we came to an anchor, and I found by observation that the latitude was 8¹⁄₆°. . . .[221]” Leaving this anchorage, they stood out to sea, with the wind in the north-north-west; and in a short time they kept away and followed the coast along to the south-east-by-east.

[219] According to the MS. in this passage, only 10 soldiers embarked; but on one occasion during the cruise it is stated that 18 soldiers were landed (vide [p. 207]), a number which agrees with that given by Figueroa.

[220] The words omitted here are in the Spanish: “hasta la provincia de Vallas.”

[221] Reference is here made to the fact that the coast ran north-west-by-west with the island of Meta, which was seven (?) leagues distant. This island of Meta was probably a small coast island on which the chief of that name lived.

“And as we sailed on,” continues Gallego, “the mast sprung and nearly fell on us. Seeing what had happened, I ordered the sails to be secured and the tackle to be brought to the weather side, and in this manner the mast was “stayed.” When the night overtook us we were without knowledge of any port, having much thick weather with wind and rain. Guided by the phosphorescence of the sea we skirted the reefs; and when I saw that the reefs did not make the sea phosphorescent, I weathered the point and entered a good harbour at the fourth hour of the night, where, much to our ease, we passed (the remainder of) the night.[222] This port is 6 leagues from where we set out, and is in a great bay. It is capacious and has 7 or 8 inhabited islands. The next day I disembarked the people to get water and wood; and we saw coming to the beach more than a hundred Indians, carrying their bows and arrows and clubs with which they are accustomed to fight. The ‘maestre de campo’ ordered those on shore to embark, fearing some ambuscade. Soon the Indians arrived but they did nothing, and a canoe came. Seeing that they made no attack, the ‘maestre de campo’ ordered four soldiers to go ashore and fire three or four shots to frighten them; and when this was done and the Indians saw it, they shot their arrows and took to flight. Thus passed the 12th of April.

[222] To find in a dark night and in thick weather an opening in a line of coral-reef on an unknown coast, is an undertaking fraught with the greatest hazard, even for a ship possessing steam power. The only available guide is that which was followed by this clear-headed navigator; but it is one which, as it depends on the luminosity of the sea, can only be of occasional service. When the sea has been unusually phosphorescent, each roller, as it breaks on the weather-edge of the reef, is marked by a disconnected line of light, reminding one of the straggling fire of a line of musketry. I once saw this phenomenon splendidly exhibited on the coast of Japan, the sea-surface being crowded with myriads of “Noctilucæ.”

“Whilst in this bay we saw to seaward a very large island which lies east and west with this bay. This island is called in the language of those Indians, Malaita. The west extreme of this island lies east and west with the point of Meta.[223] This island lies with the shoals of Candelaria north-west-by-west and south-east-by-east 52 leagues;[224] and the extremity of this island of Malaita is in 8°; it is distant from the island of Santa Isabel 14 leagues; it has 5 or 6 islets at the extremity, which are, each of them, 2 leagues in circuit. There are two islets in the middle, between the two large islands. The name of the Isle of Ramos suggested itself for this Island of Malaita, because it was discovered on Palm Sunday (Domingo de Ramos).[225]

[223] The point of Meta is probably near the place where the chief of that name lived. Vide [page 203].

[224] “Norueste sueste quarta de leste hueste” is the bearing given in the MS. The distance of 52 leagues very closely corresponds with the distance indicated on the present [chart] between the west end of Malaita and Ontong Java. (Vide appendix: [note iv.])

[225] Through an unconscious error in the translations by Mr. Dalrymple and Capt. Burney of the account given by Figueroa, the name “Isle of Ramos” has been applied in modern charts to an islet nearly in the middle of the passage between Isabel and Malaita. For further particulars consult [Note VI.] of appendix.

“Coasting further along from this bay, we saw a fleet of more than seven large canoes making for the shore where there were fisheries. The canoes came on with us; and many Indians shot their arrows at us with great shouting. The ‘maestre de campo,’ on seeing their daring, ordered some muskets to be fired; and one Indian was killed and the rest took to flight. On the following day, which we made the 14th of April, running further along the coast to the east-south-east (?) we sailed nearly 6 leagues. Here the Indians came out to us in a friendly manner, bringing cocoa-nut and other things which we needed. Here we saw a hog, which was the first we had seen. The next day we went further out in quest of the point and extremity of this island, running to the south-east. From the bay to the point of the island, the coast ran north-west and south-east. There are some islets near this point; and from this point to the bay is 14 leagues. I took the latitude and found it to be barely 9°. At this point, two canoes came out to us with fighting-men, in order to question an Indian whom we had on board, one of the two we took from Meta. They shot their arrows at us; and when we fired a musket to frighten them, they fled.

“On the following day, which we reckoned the 16th of the month, being at the extremity of this island, we named it Cape Pueto;[226] and from here we discovered some islands to the south-east,[227] which are 9 leagues from this cape. Some lie north-by-west and south-by-east;[228] and others north-west and south-east. And we approached them this day with a fair wind, sailing to the south-east. We arrived at ten o’clock in the night at an island which was a league and a half in circuit; and there we anchored. It is low and beset with reefs. We sailed around it. It has many palms, is inhabited; and it was there we passed the night. When it dawned, we were desirous to land but could not on account of the numerous shoals and reefs. It was named ‘La Galera.’ Here a canoe came off to us carrying 50 men whom we perceived to be ready for battle. . . .[229] It preceded us to another large island which was a league distant. It was soon joined by many canoes both small and large; and in (one of) them came a leading taurique. He came and approached us in a friendly manner, and gave us beads (chaquiza), of the kind they wear, which resemble those that are found in Puerto-viejo.[230] The ‘maestre de campo’ gave him a good reception; and in token of peace presented him with some things which we had on board. Soon the taurique commanded the men in the canoes to take the brigantine in tow and bring us into the harbour, which they did. After we were inside, the ‘maestre de campo’ landed with 18 soldiers; and I remained with 12 on board the brigantine. The Indians soon took up their weapons, and hurled stones at us, and jeered at us because we asked for provisions. Seeing their insolence, some shots were fired at them, and two Indians were killed. Thereupon they fled, leaving their houses defenceless. This island is called in the language of the Indians, Pela.[231] And there is a chain of five islands, which lie east and west one with another. The first of these, which we came to, was at the east end, for we were pursuing our discoveries from East to West; it lies with the Cape Prieto north-west and south-east, 9 leagues from the said cape. It will be in circuit 12 leagues. It is well peopled by natives and has many huts and towns and . . . .[232] To this island we gave the name of Buena Vista from its appearance; it seemed to be very fertile, and was well-peopled; and the rest are as above mentioned. They go naked, without any covering whatever, and have their faces patterned (tattooed).[233] There are many inhabited islands around. I took the latitude here, and found it to be 9¹⁄₂° south of the equinoctial. It runs east and west.

[226] The name of this cape is spelt in three different ways in this MS., viz., Puerto, Pueto, and Prieto. The latter is that adopted in Figueroa’s account. Puerto seems to be the correct name as no reason is given in the journal for using the epithet of “black” (prieto); but the last is employed in the present [chart].

[227] In the account of Figueroa this bearing is given as south-west, which, as pointed out by Pingré, Fleurieu, and Burney, is in contradiction to the other bearings, and was by all three authors replaced by that of “south-east.”

[228] “Norte sur quarta del norueste sueste.”

[229] As the meaning is obscure, I have here omitted the following: “and coming close to us” which is followed in the Spanish by “no nos dijo cosa nise movieron contra nosotros,” which I have left untranslated.

[230] A town in the province of Quito, in the kingdom of Peru.

[231] Gela is the present native name of the Florida Islands. (Codrington’s “Melanesian Languages,” p. 522, circâ). Consult [Note VII.] of the geographical appendix.

[232] “Lugares formados y juntos.” These words, which I have not translated, are to be found unaltered in Figueroa’s account, and have been rendered thus by Dalrymple “places cultivated and enclosed.”

[233] “Las caras labradas.”

“On Good Friday of this same year we went from this island to another a league distant. We found in it abundance of cocoa-nuts; and we placed a quantity on board the brigantine for our sustenance. Whilst we were at this island, a canoe came off to us with three Indians; they left us to go from there to the large island; and they offered us hogs, but we did not want them.

“On arriving at the large island, the ‘maestre de campo’ landed and came to a town which was on high-ground. Here they gave him two hogs, which he brought off with him to the ship, having met with no bad treatment; and we returned to pass the night at the islet (?). This day was Holy Saturday. On the following day, which was the Feast of the Resurrection, we skirted the south coast of the island; and from here we went to another island, which is a league from it. On our arrival, there came off to us more than 20 canoes of fighting-men, who planned taking us to their town and capturing us, and displayed much delight amongst themselves. I ordered the anchor to be weighed that we might get to a better place, because we were almost touching the shoals. When the Indians saw that we were about to shift our position, they got into their canoes in a great hurry with their bows and arrows, and clubs, and many stones; and in a very fierce manner they began to shoot their arrows and stones at us. Seeing their daring, we replied with the muskets; and many Indians were killed, and the whole were repulsed; and they rallied and came on to the attack with greater fury; but this time they suffered even more, and for the second time they were repulsed and routed. There were more than 700 Indians. We took three canoes; but afterwards we abandoned two and kept the other. Deserting their towns, they went off with many howls and cries to the higher land in the interior. Soon the ‘maestre de campo’ landed with 20 men: and he endeavoured to bring off some provisions to the brigantine, and to restore friendship with the natives; but from their dread of the muskets they would never approach; and they kept much in advance of them calling to each other by conch-shells and with drums. Seeing that there was no help for it, we set fire to a house, after having taken possession of the island in the name of His Majesty, as in the case of the other islands; and we gave it the name of ‘La Florida.’ This island is in latitude 9¹⁄₂° and lies east and west with the island of Buenavista. It is 25 leagues in circuit, and is a fine island in appearance, with many inhabitants, who are also naked as in the other islands; and they redden their hair, eat human flesh, and have their towns built over the water as in Mexico.[234]

[234] In the present day the natives of Florida built their houses on piles. See [p. 60], of this work.

“This day we went on to other islands which are further to the east in the same latitude. The first has a circuit of 25 leagues. We had not resistance from them (the Indians); because they had already come to know that they could not overcome us, if we were prepared for them. To this island, we gave the name of San Dimas. We did not go to the remaining islands that we might not hinder ourselves. We named the one San German, and the other the Island of Guadalupe.” (Vide [Note VII.] of the Geographical Appendix.)

“The next morning we went to another very large island which is on the south side of the five islands. In the middle of the way, or half-way between them, is an island which we named Sesarga. It is 8 leagues in circuit. This island is high and round and well-peopled; with plenty of food, mames and panales[235] and roots and hogs [which have no grain to eat?]. In the middle of this island there is a volcano, which is continually emitting great smoke. It has a white streak which resembles a road descending from the higher parts down to the sea. This island is in latitude 9³⁄₄°. With the island of Buenavista it lies north-west and south-east (?).[236] Five leagues from this island, there came out 5 canoes; and they gave us a fish, telling us by signs that we should go with them to their island, and that they would give us hogs. The Indians went away; and we slept this night at sea.

[235] Figueroa gives for mames, ynanimes; and for panales, panays. In the first instance, “yams” are probably meant; whilst, in the second case, Burney suggests that by panays the “breadfruit” may be referred to. Fleurieu hints that it may be the application of the name of the “parsnip” to some other vegetable. The “taro” is evidently here alluded to.

[236] In [Note VII.] of the Geographical Appendix, I have treated of the question relating to the identification of the islands which lie between Cape Prieto and the north coast of Guadalcanar, with the Spanish discoveries. In so doing, I have re-opened a discussion that excited considerable interest a century ago, but which has since, notwithstanding the efforts of Burney and Krusenstern, been almost forgotten. Those acquainted with these islands will recognise in Sesarga the present Savo.

“On the next day, which was the 19th of April, we arrived at the great island, which we had seen, and came upon a town of the Indians. There is a large river here; and there came out canoes to the brigantine, and some Indians who were swimming, and some women and boys. They gave us a rope, and towing us, carried us to the shore. When we were close to the beach, they began to throw stones at us, saying, ‘Mate,’ ‘Mate,’ meaning that they were going to kill us.[237] Some shots were fired, which killed two of them, and immediately they left us and fled. The ‘maestre de campo’ landed with 20 men, and took possession as in the case of the other islands. In the town was found, in small baskets, a large quantity of provisions, of roots, and ginger which is plentiful in this island. We put on board the brigantine what we could, including a hog. The same evening, we embarked; and we gave this island the name of Guadalcanal and to the river that of Ortega. I took the latitude, and found it to be in 10¹⁄₂°. With the higher part of Buenavista, it lies north and south 9 leagues, and with that of Sesarga north-west and south-east. From here we determined to return to where we had left the ships. We, therefore, started on the return voyage. Running back to the island of Santa Isabel, we passed by the island of Sesarga, which is called in the language of the Indians ‘Guali.’ Pursuing our way, we came close to Cape Prieto. We sailed along the south coast and arrived at an island, 7 leagues from Cape Prieto, which lies with the island of Sesarga north-by-west[238] 15 leagues. The taurique of this island, Beneboneja by name, called it the island of Veru. It is a league from that of Santa Isabel. The passage (entrada), which is on the south-east side of the island of Beru (Veru), has a fine harbour that is able to hold a thousand ships: it is 6 leagues in length, has a depth of 12 to 8 fathoms, is very clear (of shoals), and has an outlet to the north-west a league in length.[239] This channel[240] runs west-north-west to the cape of this island, where there is a large town which has more than 300 houses. The Indians received us in a friendly manner, giving us a hog: and because they would not give us more than a hog, we seized three canoes; and when they saw that we had taken these canoes, they ransomed them, giving for two canoes two hogs. We saw in this island some pearls that the Indians brought, which they did not hold in much esteem. They also brought us some tusks[241] that seemed to belong to some large animal, of which they have many: and they told us that we should take them and give them back their canoe. I considered that we should restore their canoe and accept these tusks: but the ‘maestre de campo’ was not willing to do so. This island is in latitude 9¹⁄₃°. We named it the island of Jorge.[242]

[237] There is here a strange coincidence. The natives in using the word “mate”—a widely spread Polynesian word for “dead”—were unconsciously making a correct use of the Spanish verb “matar,” to kill.

[238] Norueste quarta del norueste (?).

[239] This fine harbour is at present known as Thousand Ships Bay. It was visited by D’Urville, in 1838, who named his anchorage Astrolabe Harbour.

[240] The outlet to the northwest has been named Ortega Channel. It was explored by the officers of D’Urville’s expedition.

[241] Probably boar’s tusks.

[242] The St. George’s Island of the present [chart].

“We continued our return journey, sailing to the west-by-north around the said island of Santa Isabel. When we were a third part from the south-south-east portion of this island, we saw two large islands. We did not go to them, because we had not reached the extremity of the island which we should have to round,[243] and also because the coast is beset with many reefs and shoals which we could scarcely pass through in the brigantine, it being impossible to sail through them in ships. These islands would be 6 leagues from Santa Isabel; they are in latitude 9¹⁄₃° S., as they lie east and west with the island of Veru 10 leagues. These islands, which we passed, bear east and west one with the other. The land runs much further to the west-by-north. The needle declined to the N.W.[244] I observed the sun near the river and found myself in 9° full (9 grados largos). In this island we saw many bats (murcielagos) of such a size that the wings from tip to tip measured 5 feet in expanse. This island has a breadth of 20 leagues; for I took the sun on the north side, where the ships lay, and now on the south side; and in this last I found the latitude to be 9° full (largos), whilst on the north side the latitude is 8° minus 8 minutes, lying north-north-east and south-south-west 20 leagues. To the two large islands, which we saw, we gave the following names, to the one San Nicolas, and to the other, which lies more to the west, the Isle of Arracises (Reefs), because there are so many reefs to pass through that it is impracticable to sail round the island.[245]

[243] The general sense of this passage italicized is here given.

[244] For N.W. read N.E. There is evidently a mistake in the MS., as Gallego previously found the needle to vary one point to the north-east, when a few leagues from Estrella Harbour (see [p. 204]).

[245] These two islands were probably, from their bearing with the island of Veru or St. George, the two mountainous islands in the south-east part of New Georgia, which, as observed by Gallego, runs much further to the westward. Their distance, however, from Veru, is more than double that which Gallego gives.

“After running for four days, but not through the nights, we could scarcely sail along,[246] on account of the many reefs; and we entered a passage a quarter of a league further on, but seeing that there was no outlet we had to return by the aid of the oars.[247] At this time many Indians came out against us, from among the reefs, with their bows and arrows. We made sail, and as we were proceeding in the same direction, 18 canoes full of fishermen, in each canoe 30 Indians, with their bows and arrows, came to shoot at us. We fired some shots, and so they went away and left us.

[246]Lit. “we were unable to sail along.”

[247] This blind passage may be the one indicated in the present [chart] in the vicinity of Nairn Island, an off-lying islet.

“On the 26th of April, we reached some reefs and grounded on them. . . .[248] Some Indians came out at this time with bows and arrows; and we fired some shots, but because the Indians did not leave us, we did not repeat this. There are many islets near, both inhabited and uninhabited. The island became narrower as we arrived at a point of this island which is from the extremity 6 leagues north-west to south-east. We entered a passage separating the island from the other islets around, which are many and inhabited. This is the west part of the island; and I took the sun at its extremity and found myself in 7¹⁄₂°. This island is 95 leagues in length, and in circuit more than 200.[249] As we sailed on, some canoes came out to us; and on our firing some shots, they left us, because . . . (porque nos aflirian).

[248] The following sentence, being unintelligible to me, has not been translated, “porque en esta isla hay muchos sueños que llaman fuenos forzado volver atras para salir.”

[249] These dimensions are very greatly in excess.

“Issuing from the passage, we saw, towards the east-by-south,[250] 6 leagues away, a large island. We did not go to it, so as not to delay ourselves. We gave it the name of San Marcos.[251] It is in latitude 7³⁄₄°. This island lies with that of Santa Isabel west-by-north and east-by-south. All this people, which we have hitherto seen, are naked, and are as the Moors of Barbary, and do not confess the Lord.

[250] This bearing is evidently an error; the correct bearing is given a few lines below.

[251] The island of San Marcos is evidently the Choiseul Island of the present [chart], as named by Bougainville in 1768; and the passage through which the brigantine had just passed, is that known as Manning Strait between Choiseul and Isabel.

“Sailing on to the 28th of the month, there came out to us 34 canoes in line of battle, in order to stop us. Three large canoes, which passed astern, followed us for more than 2 leagues. When we saw their determination to overhaul us (que trahian), we fired at them with a small cannon and some muskets. At this, they took to flight . . . (mas que de paieia). Although we had been away from the ships a long time and were endeavouring to return, we were delayed in arriving at them, as we were opposed by the east winds.

“Being anchored on Sunday at a small uninhabited island, we determined to send before us a canoe with nine soldiers, a sailor, and an Indian who had always accompanied us. Whilst they were coasting along, not daring to stand out to sea, they got on some reefs. Through their negligence, the canoe was broken in pieces; and by God’s mercy, the people escaped with the loss of what they carried, their muskets and ammunition being wetted. When they were all collected together, they resolved to return to the brigantine; and the Indian ran away from them, although he did not belong to that land. Having walked all that night over the stones and rocks along the coast, for fear of meeting the Indians, they came to a point where they found a cross which they had put up when they passed by there; and they worshipped it, and determined to await there the arrival of the brigantine. They put up a flag which was seen by us as we came along. . . .[252] We went to receive them and found them in a sorry plight (maltratados). Continuing our voyage, we came to where they had been wrecked amongst some reefs close to an islet, in which they had left two hogs that they carried with them. A canoe was sent for them (the hogs) and they were taken. Near here we anchored, because there was much wind. As the weather was fine and the wind was off the land, we went inside the reefs, looking out for our ships all that day and part of the night. We made sail the next day at dawn, and arrived at the port of Santa Isabel de la Estrella, where we found the ships, to the no small satisfaction of both those on board and of ourselves.[253]

[252] “Visto por losque en el veniamos soyechamos lo que podia ser.”

[253] From the context it may be inferred that the brigantine completed the circuit of the island of Isabel. Figueroa, in his narrative, expressly states that the brigantine turned the west end of the island, and encountered head easterly winds in her return to the ships. Figueroa also tells us that during the absence of the brigantine some of the men in the ships had died of sickness; but Gallego does not refer to this circumstance.

“The same day on which we arrived at Santa Isabel de la Estrella, I told the General that it was necessary to refit the ships, and that soon afterwards we should proceed further on to follow up what we had begun. Accordingly, on the 8th of the said month, we left the port of Santa Isabel de la Estrella, on our way out, passing by some reefs which are at the entrance of the harbour. We sailed on until the end of two days. The brigantine, being unable to keep up with the ships, drifted towards the land, so much so that at dawn she was nearly out of sight, although there came in her the pilot Gregorio Gonzalez with some of the soldiers and sailors who had (previously) gone in her. Being afraid of losing her, I made signals to her to go about and make a reach to seaward. I deemed that unless one of the ships turned back to take her in tow, we should lose her. Seeing that, on account of the many reefs, she was so essential to us for the exploration of those islands, and had been built by us after so much labour and through my diligence, I left the ‘Almiranta’ to go on, and turned back in the ‘Capitana’ to get her. We kept the sounding-lead in hand for fear of the reefs; and about 6 leagues out to sea (seis leguas de la mar) I found myself in 6 fathoms. I went about immediately, and it pleased God that we found deeper water. We found the brigantine in the hours of the night; and we took her in tow with no little labour, going after the ‘Almiranta’ which had followed the course I had advised in order to avoid the many reefs existing here, and leaving behind in her course the islands of Veru and Flores,[254] and many others which were discovered in the brigantine, without touching at them. At the end of four days, we saw the ‘Almiranta’ right ahead of us, not having yet found a port.

[254] The island of Florida is probably thus referred to.

“On Tuesday, the 12th of May, we arrived at a port in the island of Guadalcanal, to which we had gone from Santa Isabel; but we were not able to arrive at the river of Ortega which lay two leagues to windward of where we were. This day, the wind blew so hard from the east that our cable parted and we lost an anchor. On the following morning I went in a boat to find a good anchorage, for we were anchored on an (open) coast; and I went a league from here to the rear of an islet which was close to this island of Guadalcanal; and having sounded everywhere I found that it was clear (of shoals) and afforded a good anchorage for the ships, since it had a large river which was named by us Rio Gallego. It is in latitude 10° 8′. From here I returned to the ships, and brought them to this port which we named Puerto de la Cruz.[255]

[255] The position of this harbour is shown on the present [chart]; but it is placed too much to the eastward; since, from the narrative, it is apparent that it lies near Sesarga, which is the present Savo.

“This same day, the General landed with all the soldiers and self; and he took possession of this island in the name of His Majesty as in the case of the other islands. A cross was erected on a little eminence that was there; and we all paid our adoration. Some Indians, who stood near to look on, commenced to discharge their arrows; and some shots were fired at them, by which two Indians were killed; and so they left us and fled, and we embarked for that night.

“On the following morning, when we intended to land to say mass, we noticed that the Indians had pulled up the cross and had carried it off. On account of their audacity, the General ordered the soldiers to get themselves ready to go in search of the cross and to put it in its place: and whilst they were going ashore in the boat, we saw the Indians return and endeavour to set it up. When it was in its place, they went away; but it appeared that they had not thrust it in sufficiently, and it fell. Presently, the same men attempted to erect it; but, from fear of us, they did not stop to set it up quite straight and fled; and herewith our people reached the shore and disembarked. The General sent Pedro Sarmiento with some soldiers to look at the cross; whilst he himself remained on the beach with the rest of the people. On reaching there, they found that the cross was not upright; and they placed it as it was at first. Pedro Sarmiento then returned, and they all embarked and came back to the ships.

“In order not to lose time, I gave the order to repair the brigantine, as she was very leaky. She was repaired accordingly; and then it was determined that Don Fernando Henriquez, the chief-ensign (alferez general), and I, the said Hernan Gallego, should go in the brigantine with 30 soldiers and sailors to discover the remaining lands of the same island of Guadalcanal. On the 19th of May, we sailed in the brigantine along the coast of the said island which is named, in the language of the natives, Sabo.[256] And on the same day, the General sent Andres Nuñez with 30 soldiers to see what the land possessed, and to endeavour to make a search in cracks or broken ground, because the miners, who understood it, said that it was a land for gold. And so they carried out this object in an excursion of 7 days. Whilst they were endeavouring to make a trial of the ground in a large river, so many natives crowded around them that they had to give it up, because they would not suffer them to do it. By a sign which they gave, they said that there was gold. They have . . .[257]; and here were found the first hens of Castile. They brought back two young hens and a cock, which they all received with much satisfaction, understanding that they would discover better land.” (These birds were evidently the “bush-hens,” Megapodiidæ, of these islands.)

[256] The name of Savo is at the present day given to the volcanic island, named by the Spaniards, Sesarga, which lies off the north-west coast of Guadalcanar: Savuli is the name of a village at the west end of Guadalcanar (vide map in Dr. Codrington’s “Melanesian Languages”).

[257] “muchas guacanaras en este entrada.”

“Those in the brigantine, as they sailed along the coast of this island from the south-east to the north-west,[258] saw many villages near a river that was nigh to the ships. We passed a league further on, and after another league came to the river of Ortega. All this coast is full of villages; yet we did not stop to have seen more of it. Going further along the coast, we came to a river and anchored in it; and we resolved to land to see the people who were there. More than 200 Indians came out to meet us in a friendly manner, with their bows in their hands and the clubs with which they fight. They gave us some plantains (platanos) which abound here. After we had seen this, the people embarked; however, they threw some stones at us as we were embarking. We were from the ships 12 leagues. Proceeding on our course to the south-east, we saw in another river a large population of natives, and we named it Rio de San Bernardino because it was that same day. It is in the latitude of 10¹⁄₃°, and bears . . . .[259] There is a very high round hill here. This river is 4 leagues from where we started from, as I have said.[260]

[258] A perplexing error. Read instead, N.W. to S.E. Figueroa gives the course as E.S.E.

[259] “Nor norueste suhueste” (an impossible bearing).

[260] The sense of this sentence is not intelligible to me.

“We continued coasting along this same island; and two leagues from this river, we came to a great village on the bank of a small river. Don Fernando landed, and took a canoe which he found in the river, and also some roots, that they call “mames” (yams) and others, “names,” which they found in cases. We told the natives to give us some hogs, and they should have their canoe back. They said that they would give them to us with the intention of detaining us whilst they collected their numbers. Thereupon they began to play their instruments for the battle. By the time we were embarked, more than 600 ruffians (gandules) had assembled. Coming to the beach with their bows and arrows, and clubs, and stones, they began to shoot; but no musket was fired at them, although they did not cease from shooting at us. Some took to the water and swam off to the brigantine endeavouring to cajole us with fair words, asking us for the canoe and promising us a hog. They tried to take it from astern: and when we observed this, we threatened them and they went ashore.

“The Indians then brought on a pole a bundle of dry grass in imitation of a hog; and they placed it on the beach. Some came off to the brigantine and said that there was the hog, that we should go for it, and should give back the canoe. We saw the deceit that they intended; and when they perceived that we understood what it was and did not go for it, they threw stones at us and rushed into the sea, swimming with their weapons in their hands. Withal, we did not wish to harm them until we saw their boldness, and that they were coming to the brigantine to shoot at us with their arrows. To frighten them, some shots were fired high in the air, which did not wound any one; and so we went further along the coast, whilst they returned to the shore and followed us until we arrived off another large river, with many people as numerous as themselves, whom they joined.

“On the 22nd of May, we named this river Santa Elena. There is much level ground here which is covered with palms and cocoa-nut trees. This island has a very lofty cordillera in its interior and many ravines from which these rivers issue; whilst between the mountains and the sea there are eight leagues of level country. In the mouth of the river there are many sandbanks; but we did not anchor there, and sailed a long way from the coast to double a point of reefs, where we anchored. The wind blew so strong from the south-east that we ran much risk when seeking shelter to leeward of the shoals that run out from the river. Here I anchored, and although there was much wind, it was fine weather at sea.

“The Indians, who were more than a thousand in number, swam out to us with their bows and arrows; and they dived and plunged beneath the water to lay hold of our anchor and carry the brigantine ashore. Seeing their determined perseverance, we fired some shots, and having killed some, we ceased firing; and they made for the shore, where they raised some mounds of sand for their protection. As we were short of water, we were compelled to get more; and when we headed towards the shore, a great number of the natives assembled together to menace us lest we should take up a position in the rear of their works, from which they defended themselves. We loaded a small cannon with small shot, and discharged it against their mound-works, by which some were wounded and one killed. Seeing that they could not hold the works, they left the beach and withdrew to the mountain slope.

“And we found a place to get water in the canoe that we had; but it was brackish; and I told them that unless they brought sweeter water they should not come on board the brigantine. The Indians said that they would fetch it in the earthen jars which were given them for it; and taking them, the Indians went and brought it sweet and put it on board the brigantine. Soon they all came on board, and they did not follow us any more. Continuing our voyage along the same coast for another 6 leagues, we anchored off a great town, which was more than three leagues in extent (mas de tres leguas de poblacion), whence there came out to us more than 3,000 (!) Indians, who gave us a hog and many cocoa-nuts; and they filled the earthen jars with water and brought it off in their canoes, and they came on board the brigantine to visit us without arms. Close to the shore there are two inhabited islets lying about half a league to sea; and further on to the north-west of these two islets, there is another islet of sand. Soon we steered our course to the south-east, following the trend of the coast for two leagues. There are two other islets, and another of sand, near them, which were not inhabited.

“On the 24th of May we sailed further along; and there came off to us 18 canoes, which accompanied us until sunset. When they were about to go, they menaced us with their bows; and on some shots being fired to disperse them, they quickly left us. Accordingly, we kept our course until the extremity of this island, which runs from north-west to south-east. We went to look for a port for the ships in case it should be needed; and we found at the point of this promontory many islets with shoals between them. Among them is a large island with a good port. We were in want of water, and two canoes that accompanied us showed us where to get it, with the intention of luring us there and killing us; for they came with their weapons. They were joined by 30 other canoes, one of them carrying 30 Indian warriors. Arriving whilst we were watering, they landed, and having got plenty of stones and arrows and spears, some went to attack the brigantine, whilst the others went to attack those who were getting water on shore. When we saw their determined daring, shots were fired by which some were killed and many wounded; and so they fled, leaving behind two canoes empty, and carrying off the rest. The large canoe was much injured, and in their precipitation they threw themselves into the sea; but we took the canoe with four Indians, two wounded and two unharmed. We landed them, and treating them well, gave them their liberty and restored their canoe. And so they went away; and I kept a boy that I took here. I found the latitude to be in 10³⁄₄°. On the south-south-east side of the point, the coast trends from north-east to south-west, but from this point we could not see the end of it. The port is 40 leagues from where we left the ships.[261]

[261] The description of this part, its situation, and relative position to the adjoining coasts of Malaita and St. Christoval, as stated below, all point to its identity with Marau Sound. In the [Geographical Appendix] reference is made to the discrepancies in the distances and latitudes of Gallego.

“We left this port with some difficulty as it lies among the reefs. We saw to the south-east-by-east an island 7 leagues away;[262] but we did not go to it, as we were going to the island of Malaita, as the Indians name it, which lies with the island of Guadalcanal, and with the point where we had been, north-east-by-east. We sailed to the north-east-by-east for 16 leagues, and arrived at a good harbour which has many reefs at the entrance. There came out 25 canoes with warriors who discharged their arrows. Some shots were fired at them, which killed some and wounded others. This port, which is on the south-south-west coast, is in the latitude of 10¹⁄₄°; and the name, Escondido, was given to it, because it is almost enclosed by reefs.[263] In this island we found apples of some size, oranges, a metal that seemed to be a base kind of gold, and, besides, pearl-shell, with which they inlay the club they use in battle, being the one they usually carry. These natives, like the rest, go completely naked. In the name of His Majesty we took possession of this island, to which we gave the name of the Isle of Ramos.” (Vide [Note VI.], Geographical Appendix.)

[262] This island is evidently St. Christoval.

[263] Future visitors to the southern portion of Malaita will doubtless be able to identify this port with some anchorage on the west coast to the northward of the Maramasiki Passage. In so doing they should not forget the usual error of Gallego’s latitudes ([Note V.] of the Geographical Appendix).

“Leaving this port, we sailed to the south-east for four leagues, and discovered an entrance to a harbour resembling a river dividing the lands from each other.[264] We could not see the end of it; and on account of the strong current we were unable to enter. We accordingly passed on another four leagues, where we found a good port: and in it I took the latitude, and found it to be 10¹⁄₃° south of the equinoctial. It has an islet at the entrance which should be left close on the starboard hand in entering the port. Two hundred Indians came out and attacked us. To this port we gave the name of La Asuncion, because we entered it on that day.[265] This day we sailed out and proceeded further along the coast to the south-east. Close to the extremity of the island, we put into a small bay,[266] where they discharged some arrows at us, and on our firing some shots they left us. Quitting the small bay, we sailed as far as the end of the island which is in 10¹⁄₄°.[267] It lies north-east and south-east with the isle of Jesus, which is the first island we saw, and lies in 7°. [With the other end of Malaita, which is to the north-east, and lies east and west with Meta in 8°, it is 85 leagues. There is another point in 7°, with which the Isle of Jesus lies north-east-by-north 135 leagues.[268]]

[264] This is without a doubt the Maramasiki Passage which cuts through the south-eastern portion of Malaita.

[265] Port Asuncion may, perhaps, be the large bay of Su Paina.

[266] Caleta in the Spanish. This anchorage may, perhaps, be identified with Su Oroha or with one of the inlets or coves nearer to Cape Zélée, such as Te Oroha or Te Waina. (“Pacific Islands:” vol. I.; “Western Groups:” p. 61, 62; “Admiralty publication,” 1885.)

[267] This latitude is not consistent with that given above for the port of Escondido, which, according to the journal, lies more than half a degree to the north-west.

[268] I have endeavoured unsuccessfully to get at the meaning of the two sentences enclosed in brackets.

“This island of Malaita has a length of 114 leagues. We did not go to the north side, and for that reason we cannot say what is its breadth. The island of Guadalcanal is very large. I do not estimate its size, because it is a great land and half a year is needed to sail along its shores.[269] That we sailed along its length on the north side for 130 leagues and did not reach the end, shows its great size. Moreover, on the east[270] side of the extremity, the coast trended to the west, where I saw a great number of fine towns.[271]

[269] “Para andallæ es menester medio anno.”

[270] This should be “west.”

[271] See [Note VIII.] in Geographical Appendix for remarks on the exaggerated ideas as to the size of this island.

“From the extremity of this island of Malaita we saw another island, which lies east and west from this cape 8 leagues, to which we went, arriving in the night. We anchored in front of a town on the coast, which has a small river; and whilst we were anchoring, two canoes came off to see us, but they soon returned. At dawn we sent the people on shore to get water: and the natives came out peacefully with their women and their sons. They are all naked like the others. The women carry in their hands some things like fans, which they sometimes place before them. When the water was procured, we asked for a hog, and they brought it; and placing it so that we should see it, they returned and carried it off. But we did not injure them in any way; and accordingly embarked and proceeded out to sail round the island. When the natives saw that we were going, most of them came out in their canoes with their bows and arrows in pursuit of us. The first man who was about to aim, we knocked over with a shot. At this, they turned and fled; and we pursued them as far as the port, capturing some canoes that had intended to take us. A friendly Indian, whom we carried with us, climbed a palm tree and saw how the Indians came in regular bodies bearing their shields. We went to arms, and sent three soldiers to see in what force the people were. They came in their canoes in two or three divisions to attack the brigantine: and we began to bring our musketry into action, killing two Indians and an Indian woman. They soon retired; and our men who were on the shore having embarked in the brigantine, we went on in pursuit of our quest. The island is named Uraba[272] in the language of the Indians. We gave it the name of La Treguada because they led us into a treacherous truce.[273] This island is in latitude 10¹⁄₂°. It is well peopled, and has plenty of provisions of their kind. Although small, it has an area of 25 leagues. There is communication with the neighbouring islands, and with a cape that lies to the north-west. It trends north-west and south-east until the middle of the island, where we found these 10°, and the other . . . . . (milad) trends north-north-west until the end of the island.

[272] The reader will have already inferred that the island of Uraba is the Ulaua of the present [chart], and will have noticed that the name of the island has remained the same during the last three centuries. It is the Ulawa of the present natives, and the Contrarieté of Surville.

[273] One must judge Gallego in the spirit of his times. Humane as he really was, we cannot free him from his share in this unfortunate conflict with the natives of Ulaua: and the name of La Treguada had been better never bestowed. The next navigator who visited this island was Surville in 1769; who, following up his previous proceedings at Port Praslin in Isabel, repelled its inhabitants with grape shot.

“To the south-by-west of the point of the island there are low islands, with many shoals around them, which are three leagues distant from this island of La Treguada, to which we went and obtained water. They are inhabited; and we gave them the name of Las Tres Marias. They trend west-by-north and east-by-south.[274]

[274] These three islands are without doubt identical with the three small islands which are named the Three Sisters in the present [chart]. Surville, the French navigator, who saw them in 1769, gave them the name of Les Trois Sœurs, which they still retain. At the present day they are uninhabited, and any water that could be obtained would be of a very doubtful quality. Fleurieu hints at the identity of Les Trois Sœurs and Las Tres Marias.

“There is another island which lies three leagues from Las Tres Marias. It is low, and the inhabitants are like those around. We named it the island of San Juan, and found in it a good harbour. We took possession of it in the name of His Majesty, as in the case of the other islands. It is 6 leagues in circuit; and is in latitude 10²⁄₃°.[275]

[275] The San Juan of Gallego is evidently the island now known as Ugi. There is no apparent reference in this journal to the small adjacent island of Biu.

“We went thence to another great island,[276] which lies north and south with it, 2 leagues away. Before we arrived, 93 canoes with warriors came out to us and . . . . .[277] We took an Indian chief and placed him below the deck. He seized a sword, and defending himself attempted to escape, until at last the sword was taken from him and he was bound. We sent the people on shore, intending to take possession; but so many natives attacked them that we were not able to do so, and we returned to the island of San Juan. I offered to Don Fernando to take possession of it before dawn; and it was done. In the island of San Juan, they ransomed the Indian, and gave us for him three hogs, to which he added some beads. As a sign of friendliness, Don Fernando Henriquez embraced him.

[276] Apparently this is the island named Santiago below. It is without doubt St. Christoval.

[277] “y tuvimos gran guasavara.”

“On the following day, which was the 2nd of June, we arrived at dawn off the island of Santiago.[278] More than 50 canoes came out to us; and they planned to carry us off to their towns. It was necessary to fire some shots in order that they should quit us; and they left us and returned. Possession was taken of this island in the name of His Majesty; and we did no injury to the people. This island is 40 leagues in length on its north side: and it is narrow, and in part mountainous, and is well peopled. The Indians of this island go naked and eat human flesh. Its eastern extremity is in latitude 10³⁄₄°; and lies north-west and south-east with the island of Treguada 12 leagues. The south-east extremity lies north-west and south-east 18 leagues with the island of Malaita.

[278] The reader will now require to use some caution in following this part of the narrative, since Gallego seems to have fallen into much confusion respecting the island of St. Christoval. The name of Santiago was evidently applied by him to the north side of the island west of the prominent headlong of Cape Keibeck, which he might easily have taken for the extremity of the island. The name of San Urban was in all probability given to the peninsula of Cape Surville, which, as I have myself remarked while off the St. Christoval coast, has the appearance of a detached island when first seen, in approaching it from the northward and westward. This deceptive appearance, when viewed from a distance, is due to the circumstance that the neck of the peninsula of Cape Surville is raised but a few feet above the level of the sea, and is in consequence below the horizon when this cape is first sighted. The distance of San Urban from Guadalcanal, as given above, is inconsistent with the rest of the journal; and for 4 leagues, 40 leagues was evidently intended, the omission of the cipher being probably a clerical error. The name of St. Christoval was subsequently given, as shown further on in the narrative, when the Spanish ships visited the south coast of this island.

“When we were all embarked to proceed further on, a violent north-east wind overtook us, and drove us to the extremity of Santiago, whence we saw a large island to the south-east that trended westward. It was 18 leagues distant. It is in latitude 10¹⁄₂° south of the equinoctial; and is 4 leagues distant from the island of Guadalcanal. We gave it the name of the island of San Urban.

“On account of the sickness of myself and of some of the soldiers, we did not proceed further: and, keeping away to leeward, we arrived at the island of Guadalcanal. We landed at a town where the Indians gave us . . . . . .[279] when we intended to get water, and where we set free the three Indians in the canoe; and they gave us a hog and panales. But they were in great fear of us, and leaving us they returned to the town. Beads were given to them as a sign of friendship. Leaving there, we continued our cruise to return to the ships, and touched at some places where we had been before, the natives receiving us in a friendly manner, and giving us what they had, because they were much afraid of the muskets we carried. We sailed further on to a port, where, during our previous stay, we had been received peacefully. We got water there; and they gave us a hog and almost filled the brigantine with panoes, which is the food they eat. It is a very good harbour for the ships, and lies under the shelter of an island. There are many inhabitants.

[279] “La Guacanara.”

“We continued our return cruise, intending to explore a river where we had been before. Sailing into the port to obtain provisions, we arrived close off a town which the Indians abandoned when they saw us. We found there, many panoes and ñames (yams) with which we loaded the brigantine. I tried to catch a tame white parrot, which the Indians had together with many others of various hues. When the Indians saw that we did no harm, they all assembled, and came and gave us a hog to induce us to go. Presently we sailed on to another river, on the bank of which there is a large town; we anchored in it. The Indians began to make fires, and to cast the fire in the air;[280] it was a thing we had not seen in any other part.

[280] “hechar por lo alto.”

“On the next day, which was the 6th of June, the Feast of the Holy Ghost, we reached the ships, and found them all very sad. It appeared that on the Day of the Ascension, the steward with four soldiers and five negroes were sent on shore for water. As on previous occasions, they were sent because the cacique of that tribe was a friend and used to come off to the ships to give us cocoa-nuts, whilst his men used to fetch the water in the earthen jars, and because we trusted them for the friendly manner in which they behaved in their dealings with us. This day, however, when they were gone for the water, it seemed that the boat got aground because they had not taken care to keep her afloat as she was being filled. At this moment, the Indians rushed out from ambush with their weapons and were upon them; and they did not leave a single soul alive except a negro of mine who escaped. All the rest they hewed to pieces, cutting off their heads, and arms, and legs, tearing out their tongues, and supping up their brains[281] with great ferocity. The negro who escaped took to the water to swim off to an islet that was near. However, they swam in pursuit, and with a cutlass, which he carried in his hand, he defended himself from them in such a manner that they left him, and he reached the islet. From there he began to make signs, and to shout out to those in the ships, which they perceived; and as quickly as possible the General went ashore to see what had happened. When he reached there, the ill tidings were told. The Indians retired to the hills. In a short time, the dead Christians were recovered; and they buried them in the place where they used to say mass, the soldiers in one grave, and the negroes in another. Of the negroes, one belonged to the King, two to ourselves, and one to the boatswain. It was a thing to hear their shouting, and the noise that the Indians made with their drums. It appeared to be a general assembling day with them, because more than 40,000 Indians[282] had gathered together for this purpose. When our people had buried the dead, they embarked in the ships, being in great grief with what had occurred.

[281] The New Ireland cannibals of the present day are fond of a composition of sago, cocoa-nut, and human brains. (“The Western Pacific and New Guinea.” London 1886: p. 58: by H. H. Romilly.)

[282] This is either an exaggerated statement, or it is an error in transcribing.

“As I understand, the cause of the Indians coming to attack us was this. The cacique came off to the ‘Capitana’ to entreat that our people would give him back a boy belonging to his tribe, whom they had taken. He offered a hog for him; but they would not give him up. On the following day, the cacique brought a hog off to the ship, and said that, if they gave him the boy who was a kinsman of his, he would give them the hog. But they would not give him up, and took the hog by force. When the cacique saw how he had been treated, he went away and did not return to the ships again. In a few days, the disaster happened.

“On the day after this unfortunate event, the General ordered Pedro Sarmiento to land with as many men as he could muster to inflict punishment. He burned many towns, and killed more than 20 Indians. Then he returned to give account of what he had done. Each day that they landed they endeavoured to punish them the more. On a subsequent occasion, because no more Indians were seen whom they could punish, the General ordered Pedro Sarmiento to proceed to a point that lay to the south-east a league and a half from the ships. For he considered that all the Indians had been concerned in the treachery and in the death of the Christians. Having embarked 50 soldiers in two boats, Pedro Sarmiento went there, but he found no Indians as they had fled to the hills. After he had burned all the buildings and habitations that he could find, he turned back on his way to the ships. Some Indians, who came out from a point, followed him slowly; and our people lay in ambush and killed three or four Indians, the rest escaping in flight. They then returned to the boats, and embarking came back to the ships. An Indian, whom we took, informed us of those who were concerned in the death of our men. He said that the leader was a taurique, named Nobolo, who lived on the bank of the river that lay a league to the east of the Rio Gallego; and that with him there were many others who had collected together for that object and with the said result.

“On Wednesday, the 9th of June, the men of the ‘Almiranta’ were engaged in making a top-mast on the islet close to where the ships were anchored. Some musketeers and targeteers (rodeleros), who were eight in number, were in guard of the carpenter’s party. As it happened, the Indians were then preparing for another attack; and more than 300 of them lay in ambush, ready for the assault. About 10 Indians crossed over to the islet with bows and arrows concealed; and they brought a hog, intending to beguile our men by occupying their attention in talking, whilst the other Indian warriors should be arriving. When I saw the Indians crossing over and this canoe heading for the islet where our people were making the top-mast, I ordered some musketeers into the boat; and accompanied by Pedro Sarmiento, we steered so that the islet concealed us from those in the canoe. Approaching the islet, we passed between it and the main island and came close up with the canoe which had only one Indian on board, the others having thrown themselves into the sea. The canoe was captured together with the hog which they had brought to deceive us. When we had joined the party who were making the top-mast, we returned to the ships after having killed those who came in the canoe. This was the most effective attack that was made, for the Indians went away much discouraged.

“On the 12th of the same month of June, the General took the brigantine and a boat with nearly all the people, in order to inflict further punishment at a river which lay a league to the east of the place where the ships were anchored; and I accompanied him. An hour before the dawn we arrived close to the river; and we were about to conceal ourselves and fall upon the Indians, when we were seen by their sentinels and they went to arms. I remained with four musketeers in charge of the brigantine and the boat in the mouth of the river, so as not to allow any canoe to escape. The General on arriving at the town, which had more than 200 houses, found it deserted. He set fire to it; and then we returned to the ships.

“The next day, which was Sunday the 13th of June, we made sail during the night and proceeded in the ships to follow up the discoveries of the brigantine. When we had sailed about 8 leagues to the south-east, we anchored because the wind was contrary. The General landed here to get some provisions for the sick, of whom there were many. In a short time he returned to the ships, when we made sail with the land-breeze. Now died the pilot, Paladin, an experienced seaman. We lost sight of the brigantine, as she went ahead of us: and we did not see her until we found her anchored in a port off an islet that lay half a league to windward of where we had anchored in the brigantine during our voyage of discovery. There were many inhabitants here; and they came off to us as friends. On account of it being Corpus Christi Day, we remained here all the day. Mass was said at the islet which is close to the anchorage. We watered the ships there. The Indians gave us of their own free will two hogs and many cocoa-nuts and ñames (yams). The cacique of this tribe was named Meso, and the town was called Urare. This people is at war with the people of Feday, which is the name of the place where we were anchored. . . . . .[283]

[283] “que nos maron gente.”

“On the 18th of June, we left this port, and proceeded on our voyage, seeking the island of Santiago or San Juan,[284] which was the island that we had discovered and named. We beat to windward against a strong head wind in our endeavour to arrive at the island of Santiago; but on account of this contrary wind and the boisterous weather, we did not fetch it; and I determined to steer to the south of the island of Santiago, the wind and the contrary currents not allowing us to find a harbour. We coasted along an island, not seen in the brigantine[285], and we held on our course for fourteen days, endeavouring to reach the end of the island; but in the middle of the island, on account of the contrary wind and currents, what we gained one day we lost the next. Accordingly I went to find a port. We named this island San Christoval.[286] It was our Lord’s pleasure that after so much difficulty I should find a very good port for the ships; and on the following day I returned to the ships. We sailed to windward that night on account of the boisterous weather, which obliged us to shorten sail and lie-to[287] for the night. When it dawned, we found ourselves three leagues to leeward of the port, which we tried in vain to reach; and since we kept falling to leeward, I was compelled to take the brigantine and go in search of another anchorage, with the understanding that when I had found one, I should signal to the ships to follow the brigantine. The signal being made, I guided the ships to the brigantine, which lay outside a point of reefs that formed the harbour; and so we entered it.

[284] Gallego here seems to have forgotten that he had previously applied these two names to different islands, that of San Juan to Ugi and that of Santiago to the large island south of it, viz., the present St. Christoval (see p. 222).

[285] This remark is inconsistent with the previous reference to their steering south of Santiago.]

[286] I should here call attention to the circumstance that the Spaniards were navigating the south coast of this island. Further proof of this is given in succeeding pages.

[287] “Sin velas de mar a el traves.”

“It is a good and secure anchorage; and there is a town there which has eighty houses. The General landed with the captains and the soldiers to obtain provisions and to take possession of the island, in the name of His Majesty, which we did without opposition, for the Indians received us peacefully. The same evening we landed, and went in marching order to see the town, but without doing them any injury; and we returned to the ships with the agreement that on the following morning we should revisit the town to get provisions, of which we were in need.

“On the morning of the 1st of July, we all landed with the determination to obtain provisions for our present necessities; and the General entered one part of the town with the greater number of our people, whilst Pedro Sarmiento with twelve soldiers entered another part. When the Indians saw our determination, and that we entered the town in two places, they began to arouse themselves and to take up their weapons, making signs that we should embark. They held a consultation in a small hollow, where Pedro Sarmiento and his party entered. One of the headmen was seen to make incantations and invocations to the devil, which caused real terror, because it seemed as though his body was possessed of a devil. There were two other Indians, who, whilst making great contortions with their faces and violently shaking themselves, scraped up the sand with their feet and hands and threw it into the air. They then made towards the boats with loud shouting and yells of rage, and tossed the water in the air. At this, our people sounded the trumpets to assemble where the General was; for there were all the Indians with their bows and arrows and darts and clubs, which are the weapons with which they fight. They came very close to us, bending their bows and bidding us to depart. It became necessary for us to fire; and accordingly some were killed and others were wounded. Thereupon they fled and abandoned the town, in which there was a great quantity of panaes and ñames and many cocoa-nuts and almonds,[288] which were sufficient to load a ship. Presently we set about carrying to the boats all that we found, and nothing more was done that day. The Indians did not dare to return to the town again, and that night we embarked. This port is in 11° south latitude. It is in close proximity to the island of Santiago, to the south-east; it is narrow and mountainous, and the inhabitants are like the rest.[289]

[288] These almonds were without doubt the almond-like kernels of the fruit of a species of Canarium, a common article of food at the present day.

[289] This sentence refers to the island, and not to the port, judging from the context.

“After three days had passed, the General ordered that the brigantine should proceed on a voyage of discovery; and Francisco Muñoz Rico, with ten soldiers, and I, with thirteen seamen, embarked. We left this port on the 4th of July, and coasted along this island of Paubro, as it is called in the language of the natives, being that which we named San Christobal.[290] Until the middle of the island, the coast trends north-west and south-east for 20 leagues and a point nearer east and west; and the other half trends west-by-north and south-by-east. We entered a harbour, which was the first we discovered in this cruise; and there we remained for the day.

[290] This reference to the native name of Paubro is interesting, since at the present day St. Christoval is largely known by the native name of Bauro, which is evidently the same. This is also without a doubt the “large country named Pouro” of which the natives of Taumaco (Duff Group) informed Quiros about forty years afterwards (vide Geographical Appendix, [Note XV.]).

“On the following morning we left there, and proceeded further along the coast to the east-by-south. We entered a small bay, enclosed by reefs, near which were three towns. We seized two boys here. The officer in command of the soldiers went with all our people to reconnoitre the town that was a league away; and I remained behind in charge of the brigantine with no small risk, for there were only three soldiers left with me to defend it. In a few hours the people returned with two canoes that they had taken, and five sucking-pigs, and some panaes, and plantains, with which they embarked. We then made sail to proceed further along the coast.

“On the next day a canoe with two Indians came off to us. They were friendly, and one of them came on board the brigantine. We sailed on in order to reach a harbour, and proceeded further along the same coast, on which there were many towns, and the people of them were, as we expected, very turbulent; for a canoe preceded us, giving warning in such a manner that in all this island we were not able to capture anything. As we approached a promontory (morro), many Indians came out and threw stones at us with much shouting; and at the extremity of this island we discovered two small islands. The end of this island is in 11¹⁄₂° south of the Equinoctial. This island is a hundred leagues in circuit and seven leagues in width, and is well peopled.

“From the extremity, we went to one of the small islands which was the smallest and lay to the south side.[291] On arriving there we anchored; and there came off to us twelve Indians who came on board the brigantine and spent some time with us. On their being asked by signs what further land there was in that part, they said that there was none; but towards the west, where we pointed, they said that there was much land. We saw it, and because there was no time or opportunity we did not go to it.[292] Through the day and night we had much wind. As we were about to disembark, the natives began to throw stones at us; and when some shots were fired for our own defence, they fled. Accordingly, we landed and went to the town, where we found some hogs and a quantity of almonds and plantains. I ordered a sailor to climb a high palm to see if he could descry land to the south, or south-east, or north-west (?)[293] but no further land appeared. There came from that quarter a great swell which was a sign of their being no more land there. This island, we named, Santa Catalina; in the language of the natives it is called Aguare.[294] It is 40[295] leagues round, and it is low and level. It has many palms and is well peopled. It has many reefs. It is in latitude 11²⁄₃°, and it lies two leagues south-east from the extremity of San Christobal.

[291] This small island was subsequently named Santa Catalina; and the circumstance of the Spaniards going to it before they visited the adjacent small island of Santa Anna, is a proof of their having coasted along the south side of St. Christoval. Then, the description of the trend of the coast (see [page 229]) applies rather to the south than to the north coast; and this is further confirmed by the circumstance that when the Spanish ships were soon afterwards leaving the group on their return voyage to Peru, they weathered or doubled the two islands of Santa Anna and Santa Catalina. Again, no reference is made to the islands visible off the north coast, which would have been certainly referred to, even although they had previously visited them in the brigantine. I lay stress on this point as it clears up the confusion of the different names applied to St. Christoval.

[292] There is some obscurity in this passage, and in rendering it I have been guided by the account of Figueroa.

[293] “North-west” is an error, which the context indicates, even excluding other circumstances; it should be “south-west.”

[294] The present native name is Orika, or Yoriki of the Admiralty [chart].

[295] An evident mistake, and one inconsistent with the context. The island is scarcely two leagues in circuit.

“On the 11th of this month, we went from this island to the other island which lies with it north-north-west and south-south-east,[296] a short league distant from it.[297] It is distant 3 leagues, east-by-south, from the end of San Christobal; and is in latitude 11° 36′. We named it Santa Anna; it is called Hapa[298] in the language of the natives. It is 7 leagues in circuit; and is a low round island with an eminence in the centre, like a castle; it is well peopled, having abundant provisions, with pigs and hens of Castile; and there is a very good port on the east side.[299]

[296] This bearing is only approximate, the magnetic bearing being nearly north and south.

[297] This distance agrees nearly with that on the [chart] which is about two miles. Figueroa, in his account, gives the distance as three leagues.

[298] The village, situated on the shores of Port Mary on the west coast of the island, is at present called Sapuna by its inhabitants. Allowing for the variation in the spelling of native names, we can here recognise the Hapa of the Spaniards. Oo-ah or Oa, is the name of the island.

[299] This is a good description of the appearance of this island. The port is, however, on the west side; and the circumference of the island is not half this amount.

“On arriving there, we landed the people, and the Indians commenced to attack us.[300] On an Indian being killed, they began to fly, and deserted the town. Our men entered the houses in search of provisions, but they found only three hogs, as all the rest had been placed in safety. At nightfall we embarked in the brigantine and stood off the land; and all the night we heard no sound except the crowing of many cocks. The next morning, which was the 13th of July, we landed the people to obtain more provisions to carry back for the sick in the ships; and when the Indians saw our people landing, they got into ambush. I was left with four soldiers in charge of the brigantine. The Indians, with loud cries, began to attack our men, discharging many darts and arrows. Their bodies were painted with red stripes, and they had branches on their heads.[301] They wounded three Spaniards and a negro of mine; and also the officer in command, Francisco Muñoz, a dart piercing the shield and arm and projecting a hand’s breadth on the other side of the shield. Rallying our men, we attacked them valiantly, killing some Indians and wounding many others, so that they abandoned the place and fled. We burned the town, and took water. From the higher ground near by we tried to discover any appearance of land; but as we saw none, we embarked on our return voyage to the ships.

[300] “A dar nos guacanara.” What “guacanara” means, I can only guess at.

[301] I cannot gather the meaning of this latter part of the sentence and have rendered it literally. The same expression occurs in the account of Figueroa.

“Sailing all this day with a fair wind, we arrived at the island of San Christobal; and that night we entered a port because there was a threatening appearance in the weather. We landed in a town that was there, and the Indians fled, discharging some arrows. A soldier was wounded in the throat, but not seriously, and he was able to swallow some food. As we wished to leave the port with the rising moon, we embarked; and we named the port La Palma.

“We continued our voyage back to the ships; and when we had sailed about 4 leagues from the port, a canoe came off to look at us and to learn what people we were. As we had need of Indians for their language, we endeavoured to take the canoe; and so we coaxed them on, and of four which came in the canoe we took three alive, and one died whilst defending himself. In the evening, we arrived at the Puerto de la Visitacion de Nuestra Senora, where the ships lay.[302] I found that, on account of bad treatment, all the Indians whom we had taken in the islands had gone.

[302] From the short description of this harbour given on [page 228], it is probably not Makira Harbour on the south coast of St. Christoval; although from the time occupied by the brigantine in her return voyage along this south coast from Santa Anna to the ships, it must be in its vicinity.

“I gave a report to the General of what we had seen and accomplished in the expedition, telling him that there was no appearance of land further (in that direction), but that all the mass of the land, which was endless, lay to the west; and that, from this, he would perceive what ought to be done. A council of the captains and pilots was held to determine what steps should be followed in the prosecution of the voyage; and it was decided to refit the ships for this purpose; this, therefore, was the result of the general consultation. The ships were accordingly refitted;[303] but on Saturday, the 7th of August, in the same year of 1568, all mustered together and made a protestation to the General and the captains with reference to the plan to be pursued. I told them briefly that because the ships were getting worm-eaten and rotten, and the rigging and cordage were not of much good, we should be determined to complete, without delay, the object for which we had come. The General, in reply, said that it would be well that the brigantine should go in search of more provisions, of which we were in want; but I pointed out that this should not be done, because all the islands that we had visited were aroused, and the provisions hidden. They asked for my opinion as to returning to Peru, whence we had come; and I told them that we should not sail to the south of the Equinoctial, as we should be lost, on account of there being many people, scanty provisions, and but little water. I also said that if we were to direct our course to positions in latitudes which we should have time to reach, we should not have time to find land to the south-south-west and south, which would be a work of difficulty; and that such a new navigation, with 1,700 leagues of sea to cross on our return voyage, did not seem prudent. I therefore gave it as my opinion that we should steer north to reach the latitude of the first land we found, because it would be necessary, in order to shape a course from Peru, to go beyond the south tropic for thirty degrees and more; and I also said that when they should venture to make the return voyage, they should carry an abundance of water and provisions, because, otherwise, they would run the risk of all perishing. And so the pilots came to my view, which satisfied the protest that had been made; and I gave my opinion in the presence of a clerk who was Antonio de Cieza. Concerning the idea of my asking to found a settlement in these islands, I said that in that matter I did not know what the General intended to do, since the instructions concerning it were in his keeping. To this opinion they all came, and were of one mind without one that did not assent.[304]

[303] Figueroa refers to the ships being heaved down in this harbour.

[304] The impression, which this interesting passage leaves on my mind, is that the Chief-Pilot prefers in his narrative to gloss over an incident which must have been full of disappointment to himself. Further on in the narrative, he writes more freely on the subject ([page 237]). In [Note IX.] of the Geographical Appendix, I have given some further remarks on this passage.

“At midnight on the following Monday, when all were asleep, the General ordered Gabriel Muñoz and myself to go with some soldiers and make an entrance into a town in order to seize some Indians for interpreters (para lenguas). We went with 30 men, and took an Indian with his wife and young son; and all the rest of the Indians fled. We then returned to the ships; and straightway we made preparations for prosecuting our voyage.

“On the 11th of August of the same year, we left the Puerto de Nuestra Senora, which is in 11° south of the Equinoctial, in order to follow our voyage to Peru. Sailing to windward, at the end of 7 days after we had left the port, we weathered the island of San Christobal with the two islands of Santa Catalina and Santa Anna. On the Tuesday evening, having shortened sail, we had reached the islands of Santa Catalina and Santa Anna, which lay three leagues to the north-north-west. Looking around we did not see any more land, and here a strong south-east wind overtook us; and we shaped our course to the north-east-by-east.”

In this manner the Spaniards left behind them the Isles of Salomon after a sojourn of six months in these islands; and, perhaps, a few reflections on their discoveries in this group, and on their dealings with the inhabitants, may be here apposite. They seem to have landed on, and to have taken formal possession of, almost every island of any size from Isabel eastward; they named all the large islands in the group with the exception of Bougainville; and the majority of the smaller islands also received their names. In the Geographical Appendix, I have given a [list] of the islands named by the Spaniards, which do not at present bear the names given them by their original discoverers.[305] It would be a graceful compliment to the memory of the gallant Gallego, who was the central figure of this expedition, if, after the lapse of more than three centuries, the Spanish names should be associated with these islands in the Admiralty charts. The reason why such islands as Choiseul, Contrarieté, Les Trois Sœurs, and the Ile du Golfe (Ugi), at present bear the names given to them by the French navigators, Bougainville and Surville, rather more than a century ago, is to be found, not in any intended act of injustice to the Spanish discoverers, but in the circumstance that the imperfect account of Figueroa,[306] which omits many of the discoveries made in the brigantine, has been the only source of information available in the construction of the Admiralty charts. Those who have written most on the history of geographical discovery in these regions, Pingré, Dalrymple, Buache, and Fleurieu a century ago, and Burney in the early part of the present century, had only the account of Figueroa at their disposal.[307] The Journal of Hernan Gallego, the existence of which was doubted, would have been invaluable to them; and although a non-professional writer, I may be pardoned when I express my admiration at the manner in which M. M. Buache and Fleurieu arrived at such correct inferences, based as they were on such scanty premises. One or two mistakes have arisen in the nomenclature of the present [chart], which are due to misconceptions in the English translations of the account given by Figueroa, to wit, I may cite the instance of the Isle of Ramos. . . . . . . The additional names which the Journal of Gallego enables us to identify with existing islands are, in truth, to be found in the general description of the Salomon Islands, which Herrera incorporated in his “Descripcion de les Indias Occidentales,” which was published about 1601. But this description was, as just remarked, of a general character, and beyond confirming the suspicion that there were other accounts of Mendana’s discoveries besides the relation of Figueroa, it was but of little service to the nautical geographer.

[305] Vide [Note X.]

[306] Translated in great part from the original in the works of Pingré, Dalrymple, Fleurieu, and Burney. (Hechos de Don G. H. de Mendoza: par Dr. C. S. de Figueroa.)

[307] Pingré’s “Mémoire sur le choix et l’état des lieux où le passage de Vénus du 3 Juin, 1769;” Dalrymple’s “Historical Collection of Voyages;” Fleurieu’s “Découvertes des François en 1768 et 1769 dans le sud-est de la Nouvelle Guinée” (also Eng. edit.); Burney’s “Chronological History of Voyages and Discoveries,” &c.

I come now to a less pleasant task, that of reviewing the character of the intercourse that prevailed between the Spaniards and the natives. It has been remarked by Commander Markham in his spirited sketch of the discoveries of Mendana, that the conduct of the Spaniards, in their intercourse with the islanders, was not otherwise than humane;[308] but I feel assured that a different opinion would have been expressed, if the writer had extended his inquiries further into the narrative of Gallego. During their six months’ sojourn in this group, the loss of the Spaniards was but trifling in comparison with the losses they inflicted on the natives. In these numerous conflicts the natives must have lost not less than a hundred killed, whilst the Spaniards lost ten of their number; but a large proportion of these unfortunate islanders fell victims to the lamentable succession of reprisals for the massacre of the watering-party at the Puerto de la Cruz, an act of retribution which the Spaniards had entirely brought upon themselves. In the great majority of instances the natives assumed the aggressive, but not in all; and although the Spaniards were often justifiably compelled to employ force in obtaining provisions, yet there was often nothing to excuse them in seizing the canoes, in cajoling natives alongside in order to capture them, or in carrying off with them from the group an unfortunate native with his wife and child. The natives kept on board the ships escaped on account of ill-treatment; and, as Gallego also writes, all the islands were aroused to such a degree by the visit of the Spaniards, that they concealed their provisions, and the ships began their return-voyage to Peru with scanty supplies of food and water. . . . . . We must, however, judge of the conduct of the first discoverers of the Solomon Islands in the spirit of the age to which they belonged. The zeal, which led them to burn the temples dedicated to the worship of snakes and toads in the interior of Isabel, was appropriate to the spirit of an age in which expeditions were fitted out for the double purpose of discovering new territories and of reclaiming the infidel. Yet, if we lay aside the religious element, I doubt very much whether the lapse of three centuries has materially raised the standard by which our dealings with savage races should be guided. The white man kidnaps; the savage revenges the outrage on the next comer; the ship-of-war in its reprisal is of necessity equally indiscriminate; and thus feuds are re-opened with no single effort at conciliation.

[308] “The Cruise of the ‘Rosario,’” 2nd edit., 1873 (p. 8).

We left the Spanish vessels when on the eve of their departure from the Isles of Salomon. Little could Mendana or Gallego have then believed that two centuries would pass away before the white man should again visit the scene of their discovery. The Chief-Pilot kept in his journal an almost daily record of the course and usually of the distance during the first portion of this return voyage; but as he was not so regular or so precise in noting the distance of each day’s run, the latitudes, which he frequently records, enable me to follow this portion of the track with some degree of confidence.[309] It was on the 18th of August that they bore away to the north-eastward (N.E. by E.) with a strong south-east wind. Experiencing rain-squalls and calms, they kept a little to the north of this course, and on the 23rd they were in latitude 7° (full largos), being, as they computed, 36 leagues W. by N. from the Isle of Jesus.[310] It is apparent from the Journal that Gallego expected to find more land in this vicinity, and that he would willingly have gone in search of it. But the expedition had lost heart in the enterprise, and all that they desired was to return to Peru. A look-out was kept for several days, but not a sign of land was seen; and thereupon Gallego, stifling his own desire, thus records his lament in his journal: “As in the case of the archipelago of the islands, they did not allow me to explore further where I wished. And I hold for certain that if they had allowed me to go further, I should have brought them to a very prosperous and rich land, which will be discovered at God’s pleasure by whomsoever He wills. We were not far from it now, and of its goodness I did not wish to speak, because they were all disheartened and desired to return to Peru.”

[309] I have only indicated the general course in the return voyage, as a full translation would be tedious to the reader and would occupy too much of my space.

[310] The bearing was to the southward of west, as the Isle of Jesus, according to Gallego’s own observation, was in latitude 6³⁄₄°. Three days after, when they were in latitude 5¹⁄₂° S., Gallego gives their distance and bearing from the Isle of Jesus as 45 leagues W. by N.

Heading north-eastward with uncertain winds, they were obliged to steer S.E. by E. for six days as the wind shifted to the north-east. Finally, they headed to the northward again, and in the last day of August they passed the 3rd parallel of south latitude. “Between 2° and 4° of south latitude,” as Gallego writes, “we met abundant signs of land, such as palm-leaf matting, burnt wood, sticks, and rosuras,[311] which the sea derived from the land. From these signs we knew that we were near the land, although we did not discover it. We thought that it was New Guinea,[312] because it is not in a greater latitude than 4° south of the Equinoctial.”

[311] Not translated.

[312] Gallego here adds: “Inigo Ortez de Retes discovered it (i.e., New Guinea) and no other: but Bernardo de la Torre did not see it: nor is there such a Cabo de Cruz (Cape of the Cross) as he says.” I have placed this interesting reference to the discovery of New Guinea in a foot-note, as it is suddenly interposed in the narrative. In [Note XI.] of the Geographical Appendix, the reader may learn more, if so desirous.

New Guinea, however, lay some 1200 miles away; and the Spanish vessels were in the vicinity of the Gilbert Group, which lay probably about 300 miles to the eastward. On September 5th, with shifty and contrary winds, they crossed the Equator at about the 168th meridian of longitude east of Greenwich. The course pursued, in which it would appear the Chief-Pilot had not been consulted, was the subject of a protest made to the General. Thus writes Gallego: “I said to the pilot, Juan Henriquez, that we ought to petition the General to direct our course to one place or another or to steer for one pole or the other, as we were expending our provisions and water in beating to windward. Since the General followed his own opinion and showed no desire to consult me, I made this request in the presence of Antonio de Cieza, Clerk, all of which appears more fully in the said petition, which is in the possession of the said Clerk.”

Steering to the north and subsequently to the N.E. by E., they reached the 4th parallel of north latitude on September 8th. “This day,” writes the Chief-Pilot, “I signified to the ‘Almiranta’ that they should keep a good look-out from 6° up to 11°, as we were heading for the land.” Altering their course to N.N.W., they reached the parallel of 6° on the 14th, the needle showing no declination to the north-east. On the 15th and 16th, they headed north-east, and on the 17th, steering north, they found themselves in 8°. The surmise of Gallego proved correct. In this parallel, they discovered land.

“Two hours before dawn,” as the Chief-Pilot writes, “we came upon the shoals and islands of San Bartolomeo, which trend north-west and south-east and are 15 leagues in length. The south-east extremity is in 8°, and the north-west extremity lies in 8²⁄₃°. There are two lines of reefs with apparently channels between them. There seems to be another line about half-a-league distant. At the north-west, there are two islets, which lie one with the other east and west one league. The coast is steep-to; and we did not find any depth to anchor on the west side. There were many houses and much people and villos in these islands. Between the islands, which number more than 20, a canoe was under sail, but it made for the shore. We launched the boat to go for water. They could only obtain a cock of Castile, which they brought back with them. The people fled, abandoning their houses. They came upon a chisel made from a nail, which appears to have belonged to some ships that had been there, and some pieces of rope. They did not find water, but the cocoa-nut palms were cut which showed how the inhabitants got their water.[313] These Indians drink “chicha,”[314] which is made from some fruits like pine-apples; and on this account there is an infinite number of flies. We beat to windward for three hours trying to find depth to anchor; but the water was a thousand fathoms (estados) deep. When the boat returned, we continued our voyage.”

[313] This probably refers to cocoa-nut palms that had been cut for making “toddy,” a practice to be found amongst the natives of the Line Islands at the present day.

[314] An Indian name for a drink prepared from maize.

Figueroa, in his scanty account, neither gives the name nor the latitude of this discovery, so that previous writers, who derived their information entirely from this source, were unable to identify these islands with those in the charts. However, with the materials afforded to me by the journal of Gallego, I have been able, after carefully following the track of the Spanish ships, to identify this discovery with the Musquillo Islands in the Ralick Chain of the Marshall Group. Having followed their course northward from the vicinity of the Gilbert Group, to which I referred above ([page 237]), it was evident that they were about to pass through the Marshall Islands, and that if they should sight land, I had only to compare the description of Gallego with the present [chart] of this group, in order to identify this discovery with one of the atolls that there exist. (Vide [Note XII.] of the Geographical Appendix.)

Continuing their course to the northward, they began to get short of water, and the people sickened and . . . . .[315] On the 22nd of September, they attained the latitude of 11¹⁄₂°, and running due north along the meridian, they reached the latitude of 19¹⁄₃° on October 2nd, when they discovered “a low islet enclosing the sea after the manner of a fishing-net, and surrounded by reefs.” “We were hove-to all that night,” . . . writes Gallego, . . . “believing that it was inhabited, and that we should be able to obtain water. But there were only sea-birds living on it; and its surface was sandy with some patches of bushes. It is probably two leagues in circuit: and is in latitude 19¹⁄₃° north of the Equinoctial. As it was the Day of San Francisco, we named it the Isle of San Francisco.”

[315] “Murieron hartos.” To avoid falling into a serious mistake, I have not translated this, more especially as Figueroa refers to no deaths on board during the voyage to Peru.

This island of San Francisco has not been identified by previous writers with any island in the present [chart], as Figueroa supplied them with the latitude alone, but gave no reliable account from which they might be able to follow the previous track; nor, in fact, in the times of Burney and Krusenstern, who were the last to devote any considerable attention to the discoveries of Mendana, was this part of the Pacific sufficiently well known to enable even a confident surmise to be made. Commodore Wilkes, amongst others, has swept more than one phantom-island from this region. The track of the Spanish ships northward from the Marshall Group brought them, in fact, to a little coral-atoll, named Wake’s Island in the present [chart], and lying in 19° 10′ 54″ N. lat. This is the Isle of San Francisco, which is but little altered in appearance in our own day.[316]

[316] Vide [Note XIII.] of the Geographical Appendix for further information on this subject.

Keeping the same northerly course, they passed the limit of the tropic of Cancer on October 7th; and in another week they had reached the latitude of 30°. They now shaped their course north-east; and Gallego consulted the other pilots as to the position of the land, and as to the bearing of the Cabo de Fortunas[317] (Cape Fortune). “They told me in reply,” . . . . as the Chief Pilot informs us, . . . . “that we were already in the vicinity of land, that this cape lay, in their opinion, 70 or 80 leagues to the north-by-west, that we were much to leeward of the land, that it was not practicable to reach the cape with this wind as the coast trended north-west and south-east, and that we could not live unless we fell in with the land.”

[317] This cape is evidently referred to as on the Californian coast; I cannot identify it.

Could the Spaniards have known at this time what lay before them, the bravest heart amongst them would have quailed. Instead of being in the neighbourhood of the Californian coast whither they were steering, they had more than 3,000 miles of ocean to traverse and two long dreary months to struggle through, before they were fated to sight the land. They were destined to pass through storms, the like of which Gallego had never witnessed during his 45 years’ experience of the sea. The two ships were to be parted; and each was to pursue its solitary way in the fear that the missing ship had foundered. Such was the lot before them with sickness already amongst them, and with a failing store of water and provisions.

The Chief-Pilot thus continues his narrative—“On the 14th of this month (October), I continued to steer both ships in close company to the north-east. In the middle of the night there came a squall with a little rain. We shortened sail; and at that time the ‘Almiranta’ was to windward; but she allowed herself to fall to leeward for an hour, and when it dawned we could only see her from the top. Hoping to fall in with her, we carried only the fore-sail, and made no more sail all that day and night. We headed to the north-east until the second hour of the day; and because we did not see her, we took in all the sails. This was the 16th day of the month of October.

“Two hours after noon on Sunday the 17th, whilst we were yet hoping, we shortened sail because there was much wind from the south-east. We were driven before the gale; and as we were lying in the trough of the sea without any sails, the wind came upon us with all its fury from the north-east, such as I never beheld during the 45 years that I have been at sea, 30 of which I have served as pilot. Such boisterous weather, I have never witnessed, although I have seen storms enough. For a squall to take us when we were without sail, this was what frightened me. A sea struck us on the port side from the water-line to the middle hatch, which was battened down and caulked as I had ordered. We were deluged with water. Everything went its own way; and the soldiers and sailors were swimming about inside the ship, as they were trying to launch the boat, which was smashed and full of cables and water. The sailors were not able of themselves to do it; but God and His Blessed Mother willed that it should be done.[318] Then I ordered the sailors to unfurl a little of the sail; but before two gaskets were loosed, the fore-sail went into two thousand pieces, and only the bolt-ropes remained. For more than half-an-hour the ship was in great peril until the main-mast was cut away.[319] And soon I ordered them to make a sail of a frecada,[320] and of a piece of a bonnet (boneta); with this the ship was able to answer her helm. . . . . .[321] The weather began to clear. We were driven from our course more than 50 leagues, because the storm overtook us in latitude 32¹⁄₃°, and when it began to clear we found ourselves in 30°. When this weather came upon us we were 70 leagues south-east-by-south[322] from the Cabo de Fortunas; and when it began to clear we were 120 leagues, rather more than less.

[318] This reference to the launching of the boat, in order, I infer, to lighten the vessel, is ambiguously expressed. Figueroa, in his account, would appear to imply that the boat was merely relieved from its weight of ropes and water; but further on in his account, Gallego expressly refers to their being without a boat.

[319] Figueroa adds to this account. He says that the General gave the order to cut away the mainmast, and that it carried away a portion of the bulwarks.

[320] Frazada in the account of Figueroa.

[321] “Para atras hechamos el camarote de popa a la mar.”

[322] I cannot understand this bearing.

“We headed on our course with only the fore-sails, as we had no other sails, since the sailors had lost the bonnets overboard. On the 21st of October, the wind went round to the opposite quarter, and lasted until the 29th. Coursing north-east with much wind and sea, we sailed close-hauled on one tack or the other, because it was no longer possible to sail free as the sea would engulph us. The ship did not behave well in a beam sea, for soon she shipped seas on either side, and she lost as much way as she made. On the evening of the 29th of October, the wind went round to the south-east, and there was a heavy sea. The wind was so strong that we were unable to make any sails, as they were carried away. All that night we lay in the trough of the sea with much wind and thunder and lightning, so that it seemed like the overwhelming of the world.[323] On the following morning I ordered them to clear away the sprit-sail and use it as a fore-sail, so that we might steer the ship. Before we had run for a watch to the north-east, the wind went round to the south, and with such force that it carried away the sails and we were left without any sail. We employed las frescadas (blankets?) for sails, and thus we went this day. Soon the wind lessened, and we hoisted the fore-sail and coursed north-east until the next day, which was the last day of October.”

[323] Figueroa in his account states that there was always a foot and a half of water in the hold.

The “Capitana,” to which ship the narrative for a time alone refers, was now in 29° N. lat. A very strong north-east wind, lasting until November 4th, drove them to the south-east in latitude 26°. These north-easterly winds continued to prevail; and being unable to sail close to the wind, the Spaniards could not keep their latitude and were being driven from their course, to the south-east.[324] “We were,” . . . . as Gallego writes, . . . . “much wearied and suffered from hunger and thirst, as they did not allow us more than half a pint of stinking water and eight ounces of biscuit, a few very black beans, and oil; besides which there was nothing else in the ship. Many of our people were unable from weakness to eat any more food. A soldier, who had gambled with his allowance of water and had lost it, became desperate with thirst and cried out all the day. Being without a boat, we could do nothing on approaching a harbour. We resolved to trust that God would send us the means of help. He provided for us in His great mercy, and on the day of St. Isabel (November 19th) he gave us a (fair) wind, and we sailed in the latitude of 28° and up to 30°. This weather lasted until the 26th of November, and we were 125 leagues further on our voyage.”

[324] Figueroa in his account tells us that they rigged a jury-mast, making use of a top-mast for this purpose.

During the first week of December they experienced foul winds and thick weather: but on the 9th the wind went round to the south-south-east; and they reached the latitude of 31° on the 12th. Signs of the vicinity of land were now observed, such as sea-birds and a goose. A sailor leapt into the sea after a floating piece of a pine, and brought it on board, in order to bring fair weather. Rain fell, and enough water was collected for three days. At length the land was sighted by the watchful eye of Gallego. “It was the eve of our Lady the Virgin” . . . . . he writes . . . . . “and whilst standing at the side of the ship, I saw the land. Some of us, who despaired to see it, said that it could not be the land. Sailing through the night, two hours before the dawn we found ourselves close to two islets that lay a league from the mainland in latitude 30° north of the Equinoctial.[325]”

[325] Gallego here observes that the day before the land was sighted, the needle remained pointing north.

At length the Spaniards had reached the coast of Old California. “The mercy of God”—as Gallego writes—“had brought us safely through so many storms and privations that the soldiers had despaired of seeing it. Following along the coast, as it trended to the south-east, we entered a bay which resembles in form a pen for shoeing cattle (corral de herrar ganado). We could not see the outside point on account of its great distance. We found ourselves embayed; and it was necessary to steer west to weather this point. . . . . . We were detained three days with calms and north-west winds, as we had to beat to windward to weather this point. We named this bay la bahia de San. tome: it is in latitude 27³⁄₄°. At the point of this bay there are two large islets, named the Isles of Cacones.[326] We doubled the point on the 23rd of December. We beached the ship for 12 days between these islets. Having lost our boat at sea, we went ashore on a raft of casks to get water. There we made another raft of rushes and some casks, on which we carried on board 12 casks of water and many fish that we caught.”

[326] This large bay, which deeply indents the Californian peninsula, is named in the present maps the bay of Sebastian Vizcaino, after the Spaniard who surveyed this coast in 1602. Gallego’s name of San. tome, which may be a contraction for San. Bartolomeo, has, therefore, the priority of some 30 years and more. The prominent headland, which they had to double, is at present called Point Eugenio. The two large islets off this point are now called Cerros and Natividad Islands.

Having obtained timber for making another boat, they continued their voyage, as the Indians were hostile. A foul wind caused them to pass by the port of Xalosco, and they “tacked to seaward to double the Cabo de Corrientes, which is in 21°, in order to reach the port of Santiago, which is 50 leagues beyond Xalosco.”

On the 24th[327] of January, 1569, they entered the port of Santiago. The Chief-Pilot tells us in his journal that he was well acquainted with this coast and with its people: this port,[328] he says, lies six leagues from Port Natividad, and is in latitude 19¹⁄₄°. Before they left Santiago a joyful surprise awaited them. “On the day of St. Paul’s Conversion, three days after our arrival, the ‘Almiranta’ . . . . . hove in sight. She was much in want of water and provisions; and she carried no boat which, like ourselves, she had cast over in the great storms; and her main-mast was cut away. They did not recognize the coast. It was our Lord’s good will to bring us together in this port. God knows how glad we were to see each other. In preserving us through such great tempests, our Lord had worked a miracle . . . . . They told us what had happened during the great storms: and that when they arrived, they had only one vessel (botija) of water remaining . . . . . Sama, the alguacil-mayor of the city of Mexico, came with some people of the town of Colima to see who we were, and he talked with the General.”

[327] This should be the 22nd of January, as Gallego observes subsequently that the “Almiranta” arriving on the 25th came three days after them.

[328] During his passage from the Californian to the Mexican coast, Gallego seems from some observations in his journal to have been puzzled by getting a latitude of 23° 26′ before he arrived at the extremity of the Californian Peninsula. He speaks of San Lucas as being “at the end of California in the tropics;” but this observation apparently did not clear up his doubt on the matter; and in fact on first touching the Mexican coast, the number of small bays made him think that it was still the coast of California. The latitude of Cape San Lucas, the extremity of the Californian Peninsula, is 22° 52′: it is, therefore, well within the tropics.

The two ships left the port of Santiago on the 10th of March.[329] Nine days afterwards, they sailed into the port of Atapulco (Acapulco) to obtain news from Peru: but learning nothing, they left in an hour. Gallego adds that this port is the nearest to the city of Mexico, and that it lies in 17°. Proceeding along the Mexican coast, they anchored outside the port of Guatulco (lying according to Gallego in 15¹⁄₂°); and they sent a boat on shore to learn news of Peru and to get wine and biscuits. . . . . “All the people of the town,” . . . . . the Chief-Pilot writes . . . . . “were scared and fled into the interior, because they had heard in Mexico that we were a strange Scotch people” (gente estrangera escoceses).

[329] Gallego refers to an eclipse of the moon at nine in the night of the 10th of March. “At the end of an hour the moon was clear.”

Through a jealousy exhibited by the pilots of the “Almiranta” towards Gallego, the “Capitana” was left behind at this port for a day and a night, for which, says the object of their jealousy, the General was very angry with them. However, the “Capitana” arrived in the port of Caputla nine days before the other ship. The people there were at first much disturbed; but on recognising Gallego, who had been there on previous occasions, they were reassured; and they carried the news ashore that the voyagers had come from “the discovery of the islands.” On the 4th of April the “Capitana” arrived in the port of Realejo on the Nicaraguan coast, and was followed five days after by the “Almiranta”. . . . . “In this port,” . . . . . continues the Chief-Pilot . . . . . “we beached the ships and caulked the seams, and set up lower-masts and top-masts, of which we had need, in order to be able to lie up for Peru. With all our necessity in this port, neither the officials of the government nor any other persons would give or lend money to us for the repair of the ships. Perceiving that otherwise the ships would be lost, and that it was indispensable for the service of His Majesty, I lent the General all the money which I had of my own, and I received an acknowledgment for 1400 pesos (dollars), with which the ships were refitted; and they were victualled for another piece of gold of 400 pesos: all this I lent for the service of His Majesty.

“We left this port, which is in latitude 12¹⁄₂°, on the 28th of May. Sailing to the Cabo de Guion (Cape Guion), we lay up thence for the coast of Peru. On the 4th of June we lost sight of the coast of Nicaragua; and on the 5th we passed to leeward of Mal Pelo Island.[330] On the morning of the 11th we were off Facames,[331] which lies four leagues below the Cabo del San Francisco (Cape San Francisco) on the coast of Peru. On the 14th we anchored in Puerto-viejo; and on the 19th we reached Point Santa Elena. On Sunday, the 26th of June,[332] Don Fernando Henriquez left with the news for Lima or the City of the Kings.”

[330] The Malpelo Island of the present charts.

[331] This is evidently Atacames, which has the position described.

[332] The two last dates are referred to as July. This is apparently a mistake, and I have, therefore, corrected it in the translation.

Laus Deo.

---

CHAPTER XII
THE STORY OF A LOST ARCHIPELAGO.

The most interesting feature in the history of the discovery of the Solomon Group is the circumstance that during a period of two hundred years after it was first discovered by the Spaniards it was lost to the world and its very existence doubted. In the belief that I shall be treading on ground new to the general reader, I will at once pass on to relate how this large archipelago was lost and found again.

Fancied discoveries of the precious metals in the island of Guadalcanar inflamed the imaginations of the Spaniards: and the reports, which they gave on their return to Peru, in 1568, of the wealth and fertility of the newly-found lands, cast a glamour of romance over the scene of their discoveries which the lapse of three hundred years has not been able altogether to remove.

To colonize his new discovery and add one more to the vast possessions of Spain, became the life-long ambition of Mendana. In order to further his great aim, he gave to these islands the name of the “Isles of Salomon,” to the end that the Spaniards, supposing them to be the islands whence Solomon obtained his gold for the temple at Jerusalem, might be induced to go and inhabit them. Thus, the name of the new discovery was itself a “pious fraud,” if we may believe the story of Lopez Vaz,[333] a Portuguese, who was captured by the English, nearly twenty years afterwards, at the River Plate. This seems to me to be the explanation of the name, which we ought, in fairness, to receive; since, after reading the narrative of Gallego, it is scarcely crediting the Spaniards with ordinary reasoning faculties to imagine that Mendana and his officers really thought that they had found the Ophir of Solomon.

[333] “Purchas, his Pilgrimes,” Part IV., Lib. VII.

However, many years rolled by; and Mendana had arrived at an elderly age before any further undertaking was attempted. The appearance of Drake in the South Sea, some years after the return of the expedition to Peru, caused the scheme of colonization to be abandoned. The Spaniards now found a rival in the navigation of that ocean which, under the sanction of a Papal decree, they had hitherto regarded as exclusively their own. The dread that they would be unable to hold the “Isles of Salomon” against the attacks of the powerful nation now intruding in their domain, caused them to relinquish the coveted islands; and “commandement was given, that they should not be inhabited, to the end that such Englishmen, and of other Nations as passed the Straits of Magellan to go to the Malucos (Moluccas), might have no succour there, but such as they got of the Indian people.”[334] To prevent the English obtaining any knowledge of these islands, the publication of the official narrative of Mendana’s voyage was purposely delayed. So strong a pressure was brought to bear upon Gallego, the Chief-Pilot of the expedition,[335] that he was afraid to publish his journal, which has not only remained in manuscript up to the present day, but was not brought to light until the second quarter of the present century. Thus, it happened that for nearly half-a-century after the return of Mendana, there was no account of the expedition:[336] no chart preserved its discoveries, it being considered better, as things were then, to let these islands remain unknown.[337]

[334] “History of Lopez Vaz: Purchas, his Pilgrimes,” Part IV., Lib. VII.

[335] Vide prologue to “Gallego’s Journal,” [page 194].

[336] Vide [page 192].

[337] Letter from Quiros to Don Antonio de Morga, Governor of the Philippines.

The popular ignorance of these islands naturally increased the mystery that surrounded them; and their wealth and resources were soon increased ten-fold under the influence of the imaginative faculties of the Spaniards. Lopez Vaz, the Portuguese already referred to, writing about the year 1586 of the recent American discoveries, remarked that “the greatest and most notable discovery that hath beene from those parts now of late, was that of the Isles of Salomon.” But romance and fact are strangely mingled in his story. We learn from him, for the first time, that the Spaniards, although “not seeking nor being desirous of gold,” brought back with them, from the island of Guadalcanar, 40,000 pezos[338] of the precious metal. No reference is made to such a find of gold on the part of the Spaniards in the accounts of Gallego and Figueroa: and it is probable that the reports to this effect may have originally arisen out of the circumstance that, when the ships were being refitted and provisioned at the port of Realejo, on the Nicaraguan coast, for the completion of their voyage to Peru, the necessary expenses, which amounted to 1800 pezos, were defrayed by the Chief-Pilot, Gallego.[339]

[338] Dollars.

[339] Vide [page 245].

If the English captain, Withrington by name, who elicited this information from his Portuguese prisoner, Lopez Vaz, had hoped to have obtained any satisfactory account of the position of these vaunted islands, he must have been grievously disappointed. He learned from him that the Spaniards, having coasted along the island of Guadalcanar until the parallel of 18° S. latitude without reaching its extremity, were of the opinion that it formed “part of that continent which stretches to the strait of Magalhanes” (Magellan). From this misconception, the idea arose that the Spaniards had discovered the southern continent and that Gallego was the discoverer,[340] and so vague was the information of the extent of the newly-discovered islands that, when in 1599, an English ship was carried by tempest to 64° S. lat., the captain, on sighting some mountainous land covered with snow, considered that it extended towards the islands of Salomon.[341]

[340] Dalrymple’s “Historical Collection of Voyages,” &c., Vol. I., p. 96.

[341] “Purchas, his Pilgrimes,” Vol. IV., p. 1391.

But to return to the long-deferred project of Mendana. Years of delay seemed only to increase the desire of the first discoverer of this group to complete his work. A change occurred in the vice-royalty of Peru; and under the auspices of the new Viceroy an expedition of four ships was fitted out, on which were embarked sailors, soldiers, and emigrants to the total number of four hundred. In 1595, more than a quarter of a century after the return of his first expedition, Mendana, now an elderly man, sailed from Peru accompanied by his wife, Donna Isabella Baretto. Fernandez de Quiros, who had braved with his leader the perils of the first voyage and had shared with him in the disheartenings arising from a hope so long deferred, now served under him as chief pilot. Their destination was St. Christoval, the easternmost of the Solomon Group. The imperfect knowledge of the navigator of those days was curiously exhibited during this voyage. With the means at his command, it was a comparatively easy matter to follow along one parallel of latitude or “to run down his latitude” as the sailor terms it; but to ascertain with any approach to accuracy his meridian of longitude was scarcely within the power of the Spanish navigator. When only about half-way across the Pacific and about the same distance on their voyage to the Solomon Group, they discovered a group of islands, which, from their latitude, they believed to be the object of their quest. Further exploration, however, convinced Mendana of his mistake; and he named his new discovery Las Marquesas de Mendoza, a name which this group at present in part retains. On continuing the voyage, the crews were assured that in three or four days they would arrive at the “Isles of Salomon,” which were in point of fact more than three thousand miles away. The three or four days wearily spun themselves out into thirty-three. General discontent became rife; and murmurs of dissatisfaction arose which might have shortly ended in open revolt. At length, late one night they were overtaken by one of the rain-storms so common in those regions; and when the clouds lifted, they saw within a league of them the shores of a large island. The discovery was signalled from the flag-ship, the “Capitana,” to the other three ships: but only two replied. The missing vessel, the “Almiranta,” had been last seen between two and three hours before. No trace was ever found of her. Whither she went, or what fate befell her, are questions which have remained amongst the many unsolved mysteries of the sea. There is something tragical in this disappearance of a large ship having probably over a hundred souls on board, men, women, and children, when apparently the goal of the expedition had been attained.

The appearance of the natives of this large island at first induced Mendana to believe that he had at last arrived at the lands he had been so long seeking. But his belief was short-lived. The new island was named Santa Cruz; and having abandoned the original object of the expedition to establish a colony on the island of St. Christoval, the Spaniards commenced to plant their colony on the shores of a harbour which they named Graciosa Bay. Disaster upon disaster fell on the little colony. Disease struck down numbers of the settlers, and the poisoned weapons of the natives ended the lives of many others. Mutiny broke out; and the extreme punishment of death was inflicted on the conspirators. The foul murder of the chief who had steadfastly befriended them was punished, it is true, by the execution of the murderers; but the enmity of the natives could not thus be pacified. Broken-hearted and overcome by disease, Mendana sickened and died; and the heavens themselves must have seemed to the superstitious Spaniards to have frowned on their design, for a total eclipse of the moon preceded by a few hours the death of their commander. The brother of Donna Isabel had been selected by Mendana as his successor; but a fortnight afterwards he died from a wound received in an affray with the natives. It was at length resolved to abandon the enterprise; and rather over two months after they had first sighted the island, the survivors of the expedition re-embarked for Manilla. Hoping to learn something of the missing ship before finally steering northward, they directed their course westward until they should reach the parallel of 11° of south latitude, when they expected to arrive at St. Christoval whither the “Almiranta” might have gone. The course[342] which they steered under the guidance of Quiros, the pilot, must have soon brought them on this parallel; and they appear to have followed it with a favourable wind until the second day,[343] when seeing no signs of land, they were urged by the increasing sickness and by the scarcity of water and provisions to give up the search, and to this change of plans Quiros gave his consent. In a few hours, if they had continued their course, the mountain-tops of St Christoval would have appeared above the horizon and the “Isles of Salomon” would have been found. But such was not to be; and when probably not more than fifty miles from the original destination of the expedition, the ships were headed N.N.W. for Manilla. Such a course must have brought the Spanish vessels yet closer to the eastern extremity of the group; but the night fell, and on the following morning the Solomon Islands were well below the western horizon. Of the three ships, two only reached the Philippines. The “Fragata” lost the company of the other ships and “never more appeared.” It was subsequently reported that she had been found driven ashore with all her sails set and all her people dead and rotten.[344]

[342] The course is differently given, by Quiros as W. by S. and by Figueroa as W.S.W. (Dalrymple’s Historical Collection: vol. I., 92.)

[343] Figueroa implies the second day; whilst Quiros speaks of “two days.”

[344] Dalrymple’s Historical Collection of Voyages: vol. I., 58.

Thus terminated the attempt of the Spaniards to found a colony in the Solomon Islands; and the ill fate which it experienced was scarcely calculated to encourage others to undertake a similar enterprise. Barely half of the four hundred souls who had left Peru under such bright auspices could have reached the Philippines. Among them, however, was Quiros the pilot of Mendana, who, nothing daunted by disaster and ill-success, returned to Peru and endeavoured to re-awaken the spirit of discovery which was losing much of its enthusiasm with the departing glory of the Spanish nation. The Viceroy of Peru referred him to the Court of Spain; and, after experiencing for several years the effects of those intrigues which seem to have been the accustomed fate of the early navigators, Quiros set sail from Callao at the close of 1605, to search the Southern Ocean once again for the Isles of Salomon and the other unknown lands in that region. He had been supplied with two ships, and was accompanied by Luis Vaez de Torres as second in command. It is unnecessary to enter here into the particulars of the voyage across the Pacific. It will be sufficient for my purpose to state that Quiros finally sought the parallel of 10° south, and sailed westward in the direction of Santa Cruz, which he had discovered with Mendana ten years before. Being rather to the northward of the latitude of Santa Cruz, he struck a small group of islands, the principal of which was called Taumaco by the natives. These islands have been identified with the Duff Group, which lies about 65 miles north-east of Santa Cruz. Nearly two centuries had passed away before these islands were again seen by Europeans, when they were sighted by Captain Wilson of the missionary ship “Duff,” in 1797. During the ten days spent by the Spaniards at Taumaco, Quiros obtained information of a number of islands and large tracts of land in the neighbourhood, which seemed to confirm him in his belief in a vast unknown extent of land in the Southern Ocean. The list of these islands are included in a memorial[345] subsequently presented by Quiros to Philip II. of Spain, which contains many particulars of the discoveries of the expedition in this region. Some of them I have been able to identify with names on existing charts, but referring my reader to [Note XIV.] of the Geographical Appendix, I will only allude here to the most interesting reference in this memorial, which is to a large country named Pouro, that is without doubt the large island of St. Christoval in the Solomon Group, which lay rather under 300 miles to the westward. The central portion of St. Christoval is at present called Bauro, and by this name the whole island is often known to the natives of the islands around. Thus, without suspecting it, Quiros had described to him an island of the lost Solomon Group, and the very island which had been more completely explored than any other by the expedition of Mendana nearly forty years before. Had he been in possession of Gallego’s journal, in which the native name of Paubro is given to St. Christoval, he would have at once recognised in this Pouro of the Taumaco natives the Paubro of Mendana’s expedition. His informant spoke to him of silver arrows which had been brought from Pouro, but this circumstance did not set him on the right track; and thus for the second time this enterprising navigator unwittingly let the chance pass by of finding the Isles of Salomon.[346]

[345] Dalrymple’s Hist. Coll. of Voyages: vol. I, p. 145. This memorial is given in the original in Purchas, (His Pilgrimes, Part VI, Lib. VII, Chap. 10.) Vide also De Brosses “Histoire des Navigations aux Terres Australes:” tom. I, p. 341: Paris 1756.

[346] The question of this name of Pouro is further treated in [Note XV.] of the Geographical Appendix, since an attempt has been made by Mr. Hale, the American philologist, to identify it with the Bouro of the Indian Archipelago.

The opportunity had gone; and, for this reason, the remainder of this voyage of Quiros has no interest in connection with the Solomon Group. The information which he had obtained of the numerous islands and tracts of land in the vicinity of Taumaco seems to have banished from his mind all thoughts of the missing group. Steering southward, and passing without seeing the island of Santa Cruz of which he had been in search, he reached the island of Tucopia, of which he had previously obtained information from the natives of Taumaco. Continuing his course, he finally anchored in a large bay which indented the coast of what he believed was the Great Southern Continent. The name Australia del Espiritu Santo was given by him to this new land, when flushed with the success of his discovery. In the hour of his supposed triumph, fortune again frowned on the efforts of the Spanish navigator. A mutiny broke out on board his ship, and Quiros was compelled by his crew to abandon the enterprise. Without being able to acquaint Torres of what had happened, he left the anchorage unperceived in the middle hours of the night, and after making an ineffectual attempt to find Santa Cruz, he sailed for Mexico. Torres, after ascertaining that the supposed southern continent was an island,[347] continued his voyage westward, and, passing through the straits which bear his name, ultimately arrived at Manilla.

[347] This island is one of the New Hebrides, and still retains its Spanish name of Espiritu Santo.

The results of the expeditions in which Quiros had been engaged could hardly have been looked upon with feelings of great satisfaction at the Spanish Court, where the veteran navigator in the true spirit of Columbus now repaired to advocate the colonization of the Australia del Espiritu Santo he had just discovered. The Isles of Salomon had been also discovered, it is true; but two succeeding expeditions had failed to find them. Santa Cruz had similarly eluded the efforts of Quiros; and his last discovery of the supposed southern continent had been proved by his companion, Torres, to be an island. Several years had passed away, and Quiros was an old man before his wishes for a new expedition were granted. In furtherance of the exploration of the Isles of Salomon and the Australia del Espiritu Santo, he is said to have presented no less than fifty memorials to the king; in one of which, after painting in the brightest colours the beauty and fertility of his last discovery, he thus addresses his Sovereign: “Acquire, sire, since you can, acquire heaven, eternal fame, and that new world with all its promises.” Such appeals coming from one who might fitly be called the Columbus of his age could scarcely be rejected by the monarch. In 1614, Quiros, bearing a commission from the king, departed from Spain on his way to Callao, where he intended to fit out another expedition. Death, however, overtook him at Panama on his way to Peru; and with Quiros died all the grand hopes, which he had fostered, of adding the unknown southern continent to the dominion of Spain. Had he lived to carry out his project, Australia might have become a second Peru. The spirit of enterprise on the part of the Spanish nation never again extended itself into this region of the Western Pacific. During the next century and a half the large island-groups, which the Spaniards had discovered in these seas, were not visited by any European navigators;[348] and it is surprising how few benefits have accrued to geography from these three Spanish expeditions to these regions. Their discoveries have had to be rediscovered; and it has been only by a laborious process on the part of the geographer that the navigator has been able to make any use of the imperfect information, which the Spanish navigators have bequeathed to us of their discoveries in these seas.

[348] In 1616, the Dutch navigator, Le Maire, when he discovered and named the Horne Islands in lat. 14° 56′ S. and Hope Island in 16° S. thought that he had found the Solomon Islands; but these islands lie more than a thousand miles to the eastward of this group. Dalrymple’s Hist. Coll., vol. II., p. 59.

The death of Quiros deepened more than ever the mystery that was thrown over the Isles of Salomon. Although Herrera[349] had published in 1601 a short description of these islands, which he must have derived from official sources, no account of the first voyage of Mendana was published until nearly half a century after the return of the expedition to Peru, when in 1613 a short narrative appeared in a work written by Dr. Figueroa.[350] However, the exaggerated description, such as Lopez Vaz had given, obtained by virtue of prepossession a stronger hold on the memories of the sea-faring world. The same spirit of jealousy against other nations, which had compelled Gallego to suppress his journals, and had so long withheld any account of Mendana’s discoveries, now doomed to destruction the several memorials and documents of Quiros; but fortunately the work of destruction was not completed. The consequence of such proceedings was to greatly heighten the exaggerated misconceptions relating to the Isles of Salomon. We learn from Purchas[351] that Richard Hakluyt was informed in London in 1604, by a Lisbon merchant, of an expedition which had left Lima in 1600 and had fallen in “with divers rich countries and islands not far from the islands of Salomon. One chief place they called Monte de Plata, for the great abundance of silver there is like to be there. For they found two crowns’ worth of silver in two handfuls of dust, and the people gave them for iron as much and more in quantity of silver.”[352] Amongst the misconceptions which prevailed is one which we find in a memorial addressed by Dr. Juan Luis Arias to Philip III. of Spain,[353] where he refers to the discovery of “New Guadalcanal” and “San Christoval” as quite distinct from Mendana’s subsequent discovery, as he alleges, of the Isles of Salomon; and he alludes to the opinion of some that New Guadalcanal was a part of New Guinea. In Peru the actual existence of these islands came to be doubted; and successive viceroys held it a political maxim to treat the question of the existence of the Solomon Islands as a romance.[354]

[349] Vide [page 192].

[350] Vide [page 192].

[351] “His Pilgrimes,” vol. IV., p. 1432.

[352] Geographical writers are not agreed as to whether this allusion refers to one of the voyages of Quiros or not. From the date it would appear probable that it refers to Mendana’s second voyage, when Quiros was chief pilot.

[353] A translation is given by Mr. Major in his “Early Voyages to Terra Australis.”

[354] Pinkerton’s Voyages, vol. XIV., p. 12.

The jealous attitude, assumed by Spain towards other nations with reference to these discoveries, succeeded only too well in bewildering the geographers who endeavoured to ascertain the true position of the Solomon Islands; and so varied were the opinions on the subject, that the latitude assigned to them varied from 7° to 19° south, and the longitude from 2400 miles to 7500 miles west of Peru. Acosta, in 1590, ignorant of the materials several years after placed at the disposal of Figueroa, located these islands about 800 leagues[355] west of Peru, and Herrera gives them the same position,[356] a longitude which Lopez Vaz had previously given them in the account obtained from him in 1586 by Captain Withrington. The discoverers themselves, if we may trust the estimates given in the accounts of Gallego and Figueroa, and in the memorials of Quiros, considered that the Solomon Islands were removed about double this distance from the coast of Peru. Their estimates vary between 1500 and 1700 Spanish leagues, whereas the true distance is about 2100 leagues or from 1500 to 2000 miles west of the position assigned by the discoverers. In his second voyage, Mendana was misled by this small estimate when he at first mistook the Marquesas for his previous discovery, the Isles of Salomon. I am inclined to consider that the Spanish navigators purposely under-estimated the distance of these islands from the coast of Peru, and that in so doing they were actuated by two motives. In the first place, they would be desirous to bring their discoveries within the line of demarcation fixed by the Papal Bull after the discovery of America by Columbus, by which the hemisphere west of a meridian 370 leagues west of the Azores was assigned to Spain, and that to the east of this meridian to Portugal. Thus it was that Spain had had to deliver the Brazils to Portugal; and in possessing herself of the Moluccas she had appropriated by a geographical fraud lands which should have belonged to that nation.[357] Their other motive is probably to be found in that jealousy of spirit which, in order to prevent Drake and the English from finding their discoveries, caused the suppression of Gallego’s journal and the burning of many of the memorials of Quiros.

[355] Spanish leagues, 17¹⁄₂ to a degree.

[356] Herrera at the same time places them 1500 leagues from Lima!

[357] I am indebted to Mr. Dalrymple (Hist. Collect. of Voyages, vol. I., p. 51) for this explanation of the small estimates of the Spanish navigators.

Similar confusion prevailed amongst the early cartographers as to the position which they should assign to the Solomon Islands. As M. Buache[358] points out, the first charts representing the Isles of Salomon, which were published at the end of the 16th century, made a near approximation to their true position by placing them to the east and at no great distance from New Guinea. Subsequent cartographers, however, were less happy in their guesses at the truth. In the “Arcano del Mare,” published by Dudley, in 1646, the Solomon Islands were transported to the position of the Marquesas, with which they were thought identical. This position was generally received until early in last century, when Delisle adopted a position much nearer to that given in the early maps. M. Danville, however, later on in the century, being unable to reconcile the Spanish discoveries with the more recent discoveries in the South Seas, suppressed altogether the Isles of Salomon in his map of the world; and his example was followed by several other geographers, who were equally anxious to expunge the lost archipelago from their maps and to relegate it to the class of fabulous lands.

[358] “Memoir concerning the existence and situation of Solomon’s Islands,” presented to the Royal Academy of Sciences in 1781. (Fleurieu’s “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769.”)

After the death of Quiros, the Spanish nation ceased to favour any further enterprise in search of the missing archipelagos, which do not appear to have engaged the special attention of any nation. Generations thus passed away, and the Solomon Islands were almost forgotten. But there lingered amongst the sea-faring population in Peru, memories of the missing islands of Mendana and Quiros, which were revived from time to time by some strange story told by men, who had returned to Callao from their voyage across the Pacific to Manilla. Even in the first quarter of last century, the mention of the Isles of Salomon suggested visions of beautiful and fertile lands, abounding in mineral wealth, and populated by a happy race of people who enjoyed a climate of perfect salubrity. This we learn from the narrative of Captain Betagh,[359] an Englishman, who, having been captured by the Spaniards in 1720, was detained a prisoner in Peru. He speaks of the arrival, not long before, of two ships at Callao, which, though cruising independently in the Pacific, had both been driven out of their course and had made the Solomon Islands. A small ship was despatched to follow up their discovery: but as she was only victualled for two months, I need scarcely add that she did not find them. It is very probable that the islands made by the two ships were the Marquesas.

[359] Pinkerton’s “Voyages and Travels,” vol. XIV., p. 12.

Not very long after this attempt to find the missing group, Admiral Roggewein,[360] the Dutch navigator, in his voyage round the world, sighted, in 1722, two large islands or tracts of land in the Western Pacific, which he named Tienhoven and Groningen (the Groningue of some writers). Behrens, the narrator of the expedition, considered them to be portions of the Terra Australis. Geographers, however, have differed widely in their attempts to identify these islands. Dalrymple and Burney held the opinion that these islands were none other than the Solomon Islands; but the question is of little importance to us, as no communication took place with the natives.

[360] Dalrymple’s “Hist. Coll. of Voyages,” vol. II.

In his “Histoire des Navigations aux Terres Australes,” which was published in Paris, in 1756, De Brosses, after referring to the circumstance that geographers differed a thousand leagues in locating this group, inserts, as giving quite another idea of their position, the story of Gemelli Careri, when on his voyage from Manilla to Mexico, in command of the great galleon. It appears that when they were in 34° north lat., a canary flew on board and perched in the rigging. Careri at once inferred that the bird must have flown from the Solomon Islands, which lay, as he learned from the seamen of his vessel, two degrees further south. The source of the Spanish commander’s information might have suggested some rather odd reflections: however, De Brosses, as if to justify this belief of the sailors of the galleon, refers to two islands, Kinsima (Isle of Gold) and Ginsima (Isle of Silver), lying about 300 leagues east of Japan, which, having been kept secret by the Japanese, had been ineffectually sought for by the Dutch in 1639 and 1643.[361] De Brosses, it should be remembered, was writing when the Isles of Salomon were in the minds of many a myth. That this notion of the seamen of the galleon should suggest to him two legendary islands placed east of Japan, islands believed by the Dutch not to belie their names in mineral wealth, sufficiently shows how wild speculation had become with reference to the position of this mysterious group.

[361] Tome I., p. 177.

In a few years, however, there was a revival of the spirit of geographical enterprise in England, under the enlightened auspices of George III.; and the time was approaching when, in anticipation of the transit of Venus in 1769, the attention of the English and French astronomers and geographers was more specially directed to the South Pacific, with the purpose of selecting suitable positions for the observation of this phenomenon. M. Pingré, in his memoir on the selection of a position for observing the transit of Venus, which was read before the French Academy of Sciences in December, 1766, and January, 1767, gave a translation of the account given by Figueroa of Mendana’s discovery of the Solomon Islands; but he did not throw much new light on their supposed position.

Whilst the attention of geographers was thus once more directed towards this part of the Pacific, the two English voyages of circumnavigation under Commodore Byron and Captain Carteret[362] supplied them with information, which pointed to the correctness of the view of the old cartographers that the Solomon Islands lay to the east, and not far removed from New Guinea. That Commodore Byron, when sailing in the supposed latitude of these islands in 1765, expected to fall in with them more towards the centre of the Pacific, is shown by the circumstance that he at first believed one of the islands of the group, subsequently named the Union Group, to be the Malaita of the Spaniards, an island which actually lay more than 1500 miles to the westward. However, he continued his course in the track of the missing group, until he reached the longitude of 176° 20′ E. in latitude 8° 13′ S., a position more than 800 miles to the eastward of that assigned to the Solomon Islands in his chart. Giving up the search, Commodore Byron steered northward to cross the equator, and ultimately shaped his course for the Ladrones. His remark in reference to his want of success augured ill for the future discovery of the Solomon Group, since he doubted whether the Spaniards had left behind any account by which it might be found by future navigators.

[362] Hawkesworth’s Voyages (vol. I.) contains the accounts of these expeditions.

In August, 1766, another expedition consisting of two ships, the “Dolphin,” and the “Swallow,” under the command of Captain Wallis, and Captain Carteret, sailed from Plymouth with the object of making further discoveries in the southern hemisphere. After a stormy passage through the Straits of Magellan, the two ships were separated just as they were entering the South Sea. This accidental circumstance proved fortunate in its results for geographical science, as each vessel steered an independent course. Whilst Captain Wallis in the “Dolphin” was exploring the coasts of Tahiti, Captain Carteret in the “Swallow” followed a track more to the southward, and ultimately brought back to Europe tidings of the long lost lands of Mendana and Quiros. In July, 1767, Captain Carteret being in 167° W. long, and 10° S. lat., kept his course westward in the same parallel “in hopes”—as he remarks—“to have fallen in with some of the islands called Solomon’s Islands.” After reaching the meridian of 177° 30′ E. long. in 10° 18′ S. lat., a position five degrees to the westward of that assigned to the Solomon Islands in his chart, Captain Carteret came to the conclusion “that if there were any such islands their situation was erroneously laid down.” He was afterwards destined to discover, unknown to himself, nearly a thousand miles to the westward, the very group whose existence he doubted. Continuing his westerly course, he arrived at a group of islands, the largest of which he recognised as the Santa Cruz of Mendana, which had not been visited by Europeans since the disastrous attempt to found a Spanish Colony there more than 170 years before. With a crazy ship, and a sickly crew, Captain Carteret desisted from the further prosecution of his discoveries in those regions; and shaping his course W.N.W., he sighted in the evening of the second day a low flat island, one of the outlying islands of the Solomon Group, which, without suspecting the nature of his discovery, he called Gower Island, a name still preserved in the present [chart].[363] During the night, the current carried him to the south, and brought him within sight of what he thought were two other large islands lying east and west with each other, which he named Simpson’s Island, and Carteret’s Island. Captain Carteret communicated with the natives, but did not anchor. These two islands have proved to be the forked northern extremity of the large island of Malaita. Keeping to the north-west, he subsequently discovered, off the north-west end of the group, a large atoll with nine small islands, which are known as the Nine Islands of Carteret. On the following morning he was fated, without being aware of it, to get another glimpse of the Solomon Islands. A high island, descried by him to the southward, which is named Winchelsea Island in his text, and Anson Island in his chart of the voyage, was in all probability the island of Bouka visited nearly a year afterwards by Bougainville, the French navigator. Thus the missing group was at length found, but without the knowledge of the English navigator who discovered it. He had, in truth, expected to find it 20° further to the east. It was reserved, however, for the geographer in his study to identify the discoveries of Carteret with the Isles of Salomon of Mendana.

[363] Captain Carteret communicated with the natives, but did not anchor.

At the end of June, 1768, Bougainville the French navigator,[364] coming northward from his discovery of the Louisiade Archipelago and of the Australia del Espiritu Santo of Quiros, made the west coast of a large island, now known as Choiseul Island, one of the Solomon Islands. When the ships were about twenty miles south of the present Choiseul Bay, boats were sent to look for an anchorage, but they found the coast almost inaccessible. A second attempt was made to find an anchorage in Choiseul Bay, but, night coming on, the number of the shoals and the irregularity of the currents prevented the ships from coming up to the anchorage. In this bay the boats were attacked by about 150 natives in ten canoes who were dispersed and routed by the second discharge of fire-arms. Two canoes were captured, in one of which was found the jaw of a man half broiled. The island was named Choiseul by its discoverer, and a river from which the natives had issued into the bay was called “la riviere des Guerriers.” Passing through the strait which bears his name, the French navigator coasted along the east side of Bougainville Island, and passed off the island of Bouka. The natives who came off to the ship in their canoes displayed the cocoa-nuts they had brought with them, and constantly repeated the cry, “bouca, bouca, onellé.” For this reason, Bougainville named the island, Bouca, which is the name it still retains on the [chart]. It is, however, evident from the narrative that the French navigator never regarded this name as that by which the island was known to its inhabitants. When Dentrecasteaux, during his voyage in search of La Pérouse, lay off this island in his ships in 1792, the natives who came off from the shore, as Labillardière informs us,[365] made use of the same expression of “bouka.” This eminent naturalist considered that the word in question was a term in the language of these islanders; and he refers to it as a Malay expression of negation, except when a pause is made on the first syllable when it signifies “to open.” On leaving behind him the island of Bouka, Bougainville quitted the Solomon Group; but from his account it is apparent that he had no idea of having found the missing archipelago. Referring to these islands in the introduction to his narrative, he writes:—“supposing that the details related of the wealth of these islands are not fabulous, we are in ignorance of their situation, and subsequent attempts to find them have been in vain. It merely appears that they do not lie between the eighth and twelfth parallels of south latitude.” In Bougainville’s plans and charts, these discoveries are referred to as forming part of the Louisiade Archipelago which he had found to the southward. In the general chart showing the track of his voyage, the Solomon Islands are placed about 350 miles north-west of the Navigator Islands; and they are there referred to as “Isles Salomon dont l’existence et la position sont douteuse.”

[364] “Voyage autour du Monde en 1766-1769:” second edit, augmentée: Paris 1772.

[365] Labillardière’s “Voyage a la recherche de la Pérouse:” Paris 1800: tome I., p. 227.

In June of the following year, 1769, there sailed from Pondicherry an expedition commanded by M. de Surville,[366] who was bound on some enterprise with the object of which we are still to a great extent unacquainted. It is, however, probable as we learn from Abbé Rochon,[367] that some rumour of an island abounding in wealth and inhabited by Jews, which was reported to have been lately seen by the English seven hundred leagues west of Peru, had led to the fitting out of this expedition. Not unlikely, stories of the wealth of the missing islands of Mendana had been revived by the arrival in India of some ship that had come upon them in her track across the Pacific; and the reference to their being populated by Jews may be readily understood when I allude to the fact that the form of the nose in one out of every five Solomon Islanders, and in truth in many Papuans, gives the face quite a Jewish cast. In October, 1769, Surville discovered and named Port Praslin on the north-east coast of Isabel, which was the same island of the Solomon Group that Mendana had first discovered two hundred years before. Here he stayed eight days, during which time his watering-parties came into lamentable conflict with the natives. Sailing eastward from Port Praslin, he sighted the Gower Island of Carteret, which he named Inattendue Island. Subsequently he reached Ulaua, which he called, on account of the unfavourable weather which he experienced in its vicinity, Ile de Contrarieté. The attempt to send a boat ashore was the occasion of another unfortunate affray with the natives, who were ultimately dispersed with grape-shot. It will be remembered that just two centuries before, the Spaniards in the brigantine came into conflict with these same islanders, and that they named their island La Treguada in consequence of their supposed treachery (vide [anteâ]). In the neighbourhood of Contrarieté, Surville sighted three small islands, which he named Les Trois Sœurs (Las Tres Marias of the Spaniards), and near them another island, which he called Ile du Golfe, the Ugi or Gulf Island of the present [chart]. Sailing eastward, he apprehended from the trend of the neighbouring St. Christoval coast that he would become embayed; but his apprehensions were removed when he arrived at the extremity of this land, which he named Cape Oriental, and the two off-lying small islands of Santa Anna and Santa Catalina were called Iles de la Délivrance in token of the danger from which he had apparently been delivered. In total ignorance of the fact that he had been cruising amongst the islands of the lost archipelago of Mendana, Surville now directed his course for New Zealand; and on account of sanguinary conflicts with the natives of Port Praslin and Contrarieté, he named his discoveries Terre des Arsacides or Land of the Assassins.

[366] An account of this expedition is given in Fleurieu’s “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769 to the south-east of New Guinea:” London, 1791.

[367] “Voyages à Madagascar et aux Indes Orientales:” Paris, 1791.

In 1781, Maurelle, the Spanish navigator, in command of the frigate “Princesa,” during his voyage from Manilla to San Blas on the west coast of Mexico,[368] came upon the Candelaria Shoals of Mendana, which lie off the north coast of Isabel Island. I have shown on [page 200] that these Candelaria Shoals are no other than the Ontong Java of Tasman, which was identified by M. Fleurieu[369] with the discovery of Maurelle. To the south-east of these shoals the “Princesa” approached another, which on account of the roaring of the sea was named El Roncador: this has been erroneously identified with the Candelaria Shoals by M. Fleurieu, and it is so named on the present Admiralty [charts]. Thus it nearly fell to the lot of the Spanish nation to be amongst the first to find the group they had originally discovered; but Maurelle was not acquainted with his vicinity to the missing Isles of Salomon, and turning the head of his ship eastward, he proceeded on his voyage.

[368] An account of this voyage is given in “Voyage de la Pérouse autour du Monde,” par Milet-Mureau: London, 1799: vol. I., p. 201.

[369] “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769,” etc.: pp. 179, 18 .

In July, 1788, Lieutenant Shortland, when returning to England from Port Jackson in convoy of a fleet of transports, made the Solomon Group near Cape Sydney on the south coast of St. Christoval. He skirted the south side of the group until he arrived at Bougainville Straits, and received the impression that he was coasting along an apparently continuous tract of land, to which he gave the name of New Georgia. Passing through Bougainville Straits, which, in ignorance of the discoveries of the French navigator, he named after himself, Lieutenant Shortland continued on his voyage. The names of the numerous headlands[370] on the south side of the Solomon Group, bear witness in the present [chart] to the accurate observations of the English navigator: and from him Mount Lammas, the highest peak of Guadalcanar, received its name. Like Bougainville and Surville, Shortland was not acquainted with the nature of his discoveries.[371]

[370] Capes Philip, Henslow, Hunter, Satisfaction, etc.

[371] Shortland communicated with the natives of Simbo. An account of this voyage is given in the “Voyage of Governor Phillip to Botany Bay:” London, 1789.

It now remained for the geographers to avail themselves of the materials placed at their disposal by the voyages of the French and English navigators. M. Buache in a “Memoir on the Existence and Situation of Solomon’s Islands,”[372] which was presented to the French Academy of Sciences in 1781, deals with the discoveries of Carteret, Bougainville, and Surville. The steps by which he arrived at the conclusion that the groups of islands discovered by these navigators were not only one and the same group, but that they were the long-lost Isles of Salomon of Mendana, afford an instructive instance of how a patient and laborious investigator, endowed with that gift of discrimination which M. Buache employed with such laudable impartiality, may ultimately attain the truth he seeks, invested though it be in clouds of mystery and contradiction. Groping along through a maze of conflicting statements, to which both navigators and geographers had in equal share contributed, M. Buache finally emerged into the light of day, when he asserted in his memoir that between the extreme point of New Guinea as fixed by Bougainville and the position of Santa Cruz as determined by Carteret, there was a space of 12¹⁄₂ degrees of longitude, in which the Islands of Solomon ought to be found. In this space, as he proceeded to show, lay the large group discovered by Bougainville and Surville which, he with confidence asserted, would prove to be none other than the long-lost islands of the Solomon Group.

[372] This memoir is given by Fleurieu in the appendix of his work.

But such a view of the character of the recent French discoveries in these seas was received by English geographers with that spirit of partiality from which the cause of geographical science has so frequently suffered. Mr. Dalrymple in his “Historical Collection of Voyages,” published in 1770, before he had become acquainted with the discoveries of Carteret, Bougainville, and Surville, stated his conviction that there was no room to doubt that what Mendana called Salomon Islands in 1567, Dampier afterwards named New Britain in 1700. In the introduction to the narrative of his second voyage round the world, when he followed up Bougainville’s exploration of the Australia del Espiritu Santo of Quiros,[373] Captain Cook supported this view. The arguments, however, of M. Buache had no weight with Mr. Dalrymple, who in 1790 re-stated his opinion that the Solomon Islands of the Spaniards and the New Britain of Dampier were one and the same, and he referred to the discoveries of Bougainville and Surville as showing no similitude in form to the Solomon Islands of the old maps.[374]

[373] This group, which had been previously named by Bougainville, L’Archipel des grandes Cyclades, was designated The New Hebrides by Cook, a name which it retains on the present [charts].

[374] “Nautical Memoirs of Alexander Dalrymple.”

But in the minds of French geographers there was little doubt as to the correctness of the views of M. Buache. Amongst the detailed geographical instructions given by Louis XVI. in 1785 to La Pérouse, when he was setting out on his ill-fated expedition, was one which directed the attention of this illustrious navigator to the examination of the numerous islands of the Solomon Group, and especially to those which lay between Guadalcanar and Malaita.[375] It was considered almost indubitable, as M. Fleurieu informs us, that the intended exploration by La Pérouse of this archipelago would convert probability into certainty. But when in the vicinity of the islands he was never destined to behold, La Pérouse experienced that mysterious fate which has excited sympathy throughout the civilised world. On the reef-girt shores of Vanicoro his ships were wrecked, and the French commander and his men were never seen again by any Europeans. As Carlyle wrote, . . . “The brave navigator goes, and returns not; the seekers search far seas for him in vain, . . . . and only some mournful mysterious shadow of him hovers long in all heads and hearts.”[376]

[375] “Voyage de la Pérouse,” rédigé par M. L. A. Milet-Mureau; London, 1799.

[376] Carlyle’s “French Revolution,” ch. V., p. 37.

The ominous silence that had fallen over the doings of the absent expedition, on account of the non-arrival of the long expected dispatches, must have been, in a double sense, a cause of disappointment to M. Fleurieu, who had hoped to demonstrate the correctness of the views of the French geographers by the results of the explorations of La Pérouse. It was with the object of showing that the New Georgia of Shortland was one and the same with the Terre des Arsacides of Surville and the Choiseul of Bougainville, and that the French and English navigators had independently of each other discovered the lost Solomon Group, that M. Fleurieu published in Paris in 1790 his “Découvertes des François en 1768 et 1769 dans le sud-est de la Nouvelle Guinée.”[377] “The desire of restoring to the French nation its own discoveries, which an emulous and jealous neighbour has endeavoured to appropriate to herself, induced us,” thus the author wrote in his preface to his work, “to connect in one view, all those that we have made towards the south-east of New Guinea; and particularly to prove, that the great land, which Shortland imagined he discovered in 1788, and to which he gave the name of New Georgia, is not a new land, but the southern coast of the Archipelago of the Arsacides, the famous Islands of Solomon, one part of which was discovered after two centuries by M. de Bougainville in 1768, and another more considerable by M. de Surville in 1769.” I need not refer to the detailed arguments of this learned geographical writer. Under his arguments, Surville’s appellation of Terre des Arsacides and Shortland’s of New Georgia,[378] finally gave place to the original title given by the Spanish navigator. “It was the work of M. de Fleurieu,” thus writes Krusenstern,[379] the Russian voyager and hydrographer, “that removed once and for all any doubt that might have been held about the identity of the discoveries of Bougainville, Surville, and Shortland, with the Solomon Islands.” Another illustrious navigator, Dumont D’Urville,[380] thus alludes to the successful labours of his countrymen, . . . “Le laborieux Buache et l’habile Fleurieu travaillèrent tour à tour à établir cette identité qui, depuis, est devenue un fait acquis à la science géographique; les îles relevées par Surville et par Bougainville sont réellement l’archipel Salomon de Mindana.” Thus the lost archipelago was found, not so much by the fortuitous course of the navigator as by the patient investigations of the geographer in his study. The result is intrinsically of little importance to the world at large; but, as an example of the success of a laborious yet discriminate research, it may afford encouragement to all who endeavour to add something to the sum of knowledge.

[377] English translation published in London in 1791.

[378] The designation of New Georgia has been retained in the modern charts for that portion of the group which is known as Rubiana.

[379] “Recueil de Mémoires Hydrographiques,” St. Petersburgh, 1824. Part I., p. 157.

[380] “Histoire Générale des Voyages,” Paris, 1859; p. 228.

I will now refer briefly to the voyagers who subsequently visited this group, after its identity had become established. In May 1790, Lieutenant Ball,[381] in the “Supply,” when on his voyage to England from Port Jackson via Batavia, made the eastern extremity of the Solomon Islands. He sailed along the north side of the group until opposite the middle of Malaita, when he headed more to the eastward and clear of the land. He correctly surmised that he was sailing along the New Georgia of Shortland, but on the opposite side of it: though he looked upon the islands of Santa Anna, Santa Catalina, and Ulaua as his own discoveries, and he named them respectively Sirius’s Island, Massey’s Island, and Smith’s Island. In December 1791, Captain Bowen of the ship “Albemarle,” during his voyage from Port Jackson to Bombay, sailed along the coast of New Georgia, and reported that he had seen the floating wreck of one of the vessels of La Pérouse; but this report was discredited by Captain Dillon in the narrative of his search after the missing expedition.[382] In 1792, Captain Manning,[383] of the Honourable East India Company’s Service, during his voyage from Port Jackson to Batavia in the ship “Pitt,” made the south coast of the Solomon Group off Cape Sidney, which was the headland first sighted by Lieutenant Shortland. Sailing westward, he imagined St. Christoval and Guadalcanar were continuous, and he thus delineates their coasts in his track-chart much as Shortland did. The Russell Islands he named Macaulay’s Archipelago, a name which ought to be retained as a compliment to their discoverer. He then passed between Rubiana and Isabel, naming the high land of the latter island Keate’s Mountains. Passing through the strait between Choiseul and Isabel, which bears his name, Captain Manning proceeded northward on his voyage.

[381] Vide “An Historical Journal,” &c., by Capt. John Hunter. London, 1793; pp. 417-419.

[382] “Voyage in search of La Pérouse’s Expedition.” London, 1829.

[383] “Chart of the track and discoveries of the ship ‘Pitt,’ Capt. Edward Manning, on the western coast of the Solomon Islands in 1792.”

At this time, a French expedition, under Admiral Dentrecasteaux, was cruising in the same part of the Pacific with the object of ascertaining the fate of La Pérouse. Amongst the instructions embodied in a “Mémoire du Roi,” which were given to the French admiral, was the following one referring to the Solomon Islands: . . “Qu’il s’occupe à détailler cet archipel, dont il est d’autant plus intéressant d’acquérir une connoissance parfaite, qu’on peut avec raison le regarder comme une découverte des François, puisqu’il étoit resté ignoré et inconnu pendant les deux siècles qui s’étoient écoulés depuis que les Espagnols en avoient fait la première decouverte.”[384] In July 1792, when on his way from New Caledonia to Carteret Harbour in New Ireland, in prosecution of his search for the missing expedition, Dentrecasteaux made the Eddystone Rock which had been thus named by Shortland, and passing by Treasury Island, he skirted the west coast of Bougainville and Bouka. In May of the following year, when on the passage from Santa Cruz to the Louisiade Archipelago, the expedition sailed along the south coast of the Solomon Islands as far as Rubiana. Passing between St. Christoval and Guadalcanar, Dentrecasteaux sailed close to the island of Contrarieté and communicated with the natives. Whilst one of his ships lay off the north-west part of St. Christoval, the natives of Gulf Island (Ugi) discharged a flight of arrows from their canoes and wounded one of the crew. It is satisfactory to learn that her commander contented himself with firing a musket and discharging a rocket at them without effect, and that no other retaliatory measures were taken to intercept them in their flight. Turning back on his course, the French admiral was almost tempted to explore the group of islands between Guadalcanar and Malaita, to which the work of Fleurieu had directed his attention, and had he done so, he would have cleared up the confusion with which the vague description of Figueroa has surrounded these islands; but his instructions and the object of his voyage led him along the south coast of Guadalcanar on his way to the Louisiade Archipelago.

[384] “Voyage de Dentrecasteaux,” rédigé par M. de Rossel. Paris, 1808; tom. i., p. xxxiii.

To the voyagers who visited this group during the first half of the present century, I can only briefly allude. The Solomon Islands were seldom visited during the early portion of it, except, perhaps, by occasional trading-ships whose experiences have rarely been made known, a loss which may not be a subject for our regret. However, in March, 1834, there sailed from New York the clipper “Margaret Oakley,” bound on a trading and exploring voyage in the South Pacific.[385] She was commanded by Captain Morrell, who was accompanied by a young American, named Jacobs, to whom we are indebted for a very singular narrative of the cruise, which, for private reasons, was not published till 1844. Into the extremely questionable proceedings of Captain Morrell,[386] in his dealings with the natives during his sojournings in the Western Pacific, I need not here enter. It will be sufficient for me to remark that they had better have been buried in the oblivion which is most fitting for such deeds of heartless cruelty. Mr. Jacobs, in his attempt to describe the discoveries of the voyage with which we are more particularly concerned, exercises an amusing freedom in dealing with the explorations of the famous early navigators in this region. Instead of adding to our knowledge of these seas, by his presumption, he has thrown discredit on the whole of his narrative; and it is only by the insertion in his account of a rude sketch-map of New Guinea and the islands south-east of it that he has rescued his narrative from utter confusion. There we see, that by Bidera he means New Britain; by Emeno, New Ireland; Bougainville is honoured by the retention of his name for the large island which he discovered; whilst the other large land-masses of the Solomon Group would have had their identities hopelessly lost in the narrative under the appellations of Baropee, Soterimba, and Cambendo, had it not been for the rude map attached. References to dates are systematically avoided by Mr. Jacobs; however, it would appear that probably, in 1835 or 1836, they extended their cruise to the islands of the Solomon Group. Coasting along the west side of Bougainville Island, they sailed through the straits of that name, and skirting the north coasts of Choiseul (Baropee) and Isabel (Soterimba), they turned Cape Prieto and steered S. by E. Sailing by a singular rock like a ship under sail (the Two Tree Islet of the [chart]), their course lay through beautiful verdant islands; and then passing a volcanic island with steam issuing from the crater on its summit (the Sesarga of the Spaniards and the Savo of the present day), the lofty lands of Cambendo (Guadalcanar) appeared in view. Coasting westward, along the north side of Guadalcanar, they were visited by Tarlaro, the King(?) of Cambendo, who was accompanied by a great number of natives. On the following day, they visited a large village, where they were friendly received; and shortly afterwards they left the group, steering southward and passing Rennell Island.

[385] “Scenes, Incidents, and Adventures in the Pacific Ocean.” By T. J. Jacobs. New York, 1844.

[386] When Dumont D’Urville was in London, shortly before he started on his last voyage, he was asked his opinion of Morrell with reference to his cruises in the high southern latitudes. His reply was that he was already acquainted with him as “un fabricateur du contes.” (“Voyage au Pole Sud.” 1837-1840. Introduction, p. lxvii.)

In November, 1838, Dumont D’Urville,[387] the French navigator, sighted the Solomon Group, in his passage westward from Santa Cruz. Coasting along the north side of St. Christoval and the south side of Malaita, he recognised in Surville’s Terre des Arsacides the Malaita of the Spaniards. He then set himself to work to clear up the difficulty with reference to the position of the islands named by the Spaniards, Galera, Florida, Buena Vista, Sesarga, &c., islands which had never been since explored, but he ultimately contented himself with viewing these islands from off the north coast of Buena Vista. After endeavouring imperfectly to identify them with the description of their first discoverers, he anchored in Thousand Ships Bay, which was originally discovered by Gallego and Ortega; and he named his anchorage Astrolabe Harbour, after one of his ships. From the circumstance that the natives, who came off to the ships, made use of such expressions as “veri gout,” “captain,” “manoa” (man of war), D’Urville concluded that they had recently been visited by other voyagers.[388] Leaving Thousand Ships Bay, he sailed along the south coast of Isabel, and passing through Manning Strait, he skirted the north side of Choiseul and Bougainville Islands and then left the group.

[387] “Voyage au Pole Sud et dans l’Océanie.” 1837-40. Paris, 1841.

[388] According to his narrative, Jacobs, in the “Margaret Oakley,” anchored in the vicinity of Thousand Ships Bay, two or three years (?) before the visit of D’Urville.

Dumont D’Urville was the last of the French navigators to whom the re-discovery and exploration of the Solomon Islands are in the main due. A singular fatality seems to have attended the careers of nearly all the French commanders who visited these seas. With the exception of Bougainville, who lived to superintend, in 1804, the fitting out of the flotilla, at Boulogne, for the invasion of England, all died during the voyage or shortly after their return. Surville was drowned on his arrival at Peru. La Pérouse met with his untimely fate at Vanikoro, and neither of the two commanders of the expedition that was sent in search of him survived the voyage; Dentrecasteaux died from scurvy off New Britain, and Huon Kermadec died before the ships left New Caledonia. Lastly, D’Urville was killed in a railway accident at Paris, whilst engaged in the completion of the narrative of his expedition.

In July, 1840, Captain Sir Edward Belcher,[389] whilst on his voyage to New Ireland, in H.M.S. “Sulphur,” made the south coast of Guadalcanar; but after looking in vain for an anchorage, he continued his course. In 1844, Capt. Andrew Cheyne, in the trading-schooner “Naiad,” visited Simbo Island and the neighbouring islands. We are indebted to him for much information concerning this part of the group.[390] About 1847, Monsignor Epalle, a French Roman Catholic Bishop, was landed, with eighteen priests, on the island of Isabel, for the purpose of founding a mission. On first landing, the bishop strayed from the rest of the party and received his death-blow at the hands of the natives, who are supposed to have been tempted by his dress and ornaments. In April of 1847, three French missionaries, living at Makira, were murdered by the hill-tribes of St. Christoval; and in March of the following year, M. Dutaillis,[391] in command of the French corvette “L’Ariane,” anchored at Makira, and sent an expedition into the interior by which the villages of the murderers were destroyed and many of the natives killed and wounded.

[389] “Narrative of a Voyage round the World in H.M.S. ‘Sulphur:’” vol. II., p. 70.

[390] “A Description of Islands in the Western Pacific Ocean.” London, 1852.

[391] “Annales Hydrographiques;” tome I. 1848-49. “Last Cruise of the ‘Wanderer,’” by John Webster, p. 73.

In September, 1851, the ill-fated yacht “Wanderer,”[392] with her owner, Mr. Benjamin Boyd, on board, visited the Solomon Group. Cruising along the south coast of St. Christoval, the yacht put into Makira, where she lay at anchor nearly three weeks. Friendly intercourse was established with the inhabitants and frequent shooting excursions were made into the interior. Mr. Boyd thought so highly of the advantages of Makira and its harbour, that he intended to return there with the intention of entering into a treaty with the principal natives of the locality for the purpose of acquiring it for future commercial purposes. However, the careers, both of the yacht and of its owner, were drawing to a close. From Makira, they proceeded to Guadalcanar. Leaving his vessel anchored in Wanderer Bay, as it has since been named, Mr. Boyd landed with his gun, accompanied by a native of Panapa. Neither of them were ever seen again; and they appear to have met with their deaths at the hands of the natives soon after landing. A great number of the natives attacked the yacht, but they were repulsed by the crew of the “Wanderer” with grape-shot and musketry. An ineffectual search was made for Mr. Boyd and his companion: and before the yacht left the locality, round and grape-shot were poured into the villages, canoes and houses were burned, and probably a large number of natives were killed and injured. The “Wanderer” now left the group; and in the following month she was totally lost on the bar of Port Macquarie on the Australian coast.

[392] “Last Cruise of the ‘Wanderer.’” By John Webster.

In 1854, there were rumours in Sydney, that Mr. Boyd was still alive and that his initials had been seen carved on trees in Guadalcanar. A skull, which had been bought from a chief by the captain of a trading-ship as that of Mr. Boyd, proved, on examination, to belong to a Papuan. However, in December of this year, Captain Denham, in H.M.S. “Herald,” visited the scene of the tragedy; and after making inquiry into the matter, he came to the opinion that the unfortunate owner of the “Wanderer” had been killed directly after he landed, and that the various stories current respecting his being alive were inventions of the natives.

I now bring to a close this short sketch of the history of the Solomon Group since its identity was established by the French geographers towards the end of the last century. During the last thirty years there has been greatly increased intercourse with the natives of these islands; the Melanesian Mission has firmly established itself; numerous traders have resided in the more friendly districts; and the visits of men-of-war and trading-ships have been very frequent. But this increased intercourse with the outer world of savage peoples, who can with difficulty distinguish between a stranger and a foe, has been accompanied, as we might naturally have expected, by many tragic episodes, some of which we can deplore, most of which we can only reflect upon with mingled feelings of shame and regret. The reprisals on the part of men-of-war have not been always satisfactory in their results; and the effect of the labour-traffic has been to undermine the confidence which the missionary and well-intentioned trader have been long endeavouring to create. The quiet heroism of the members of the Melanesian Mission, under circumstances often the most dispiriting and insecure, it would ill become me to praise. It will be sufficient, however, to remark that it has been the only redeeming feature in the intercourse of the white man with these islanders during the last twenty-five years.

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