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 10½°. 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 9⅓°. 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
9⅓° 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 7½°. 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
7¾°. 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 10⅓°,
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 10¾°. 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 10¼°; 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 10⅓° 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 10¼°.[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 10½°. 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 10⅔°.[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 10¾°; 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 10½° 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).
[Foootnote 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
11½° 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 11⅔°, 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 6¾°.
Three days after, when they were in latitude 5½° 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 8⅔°. 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 11½°, and running due north
along the meridian, they reached the latitude of 19⅓° 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 19⅓°
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 32⅓°, 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
27¾°. 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 19¼°. 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 15½°); 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 12½°, 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, 17½ 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.”