Loss of the Thetis--Causes of her wreck--Approach to Rio de Janeiro
--Owen Glendower--Disturbance in Rio Harbour--Observations
--Chronometers--Return to Bahia--Deaths--Macacu--Malaria--Return
to Rio de Janeiro--Meridian Distances--Regatta--Fuegians--Lightning
--Leave Rio--Equipment--Santa Martha--Weather--Santa Catharina
--Santos--River Plata--Pamperoes--Gales off Buenos Ayres--Monte
Video--Point Piedras--Cape San Antonio--River Plata--Currents
--Tides--Barometer--Absence of Trees--Cattle.
Among the shipwrecks which have taken place during late years,
perhaps none excited so much astonishment, or caused so much trouble
and discussion, as the loss of that fine frigate the Thetis.
Had any seaman been asked, on what frequented shore there was least
probability of a wreck, I almost think he would have answered on
that of Cape Frio. Yet, against the high cliffs of that bold and
well-known coast did she run ‘stem on,’ going nine knots. One may
conceive the shock and general consternation as she crashed against
the rocky cliff, and all her masts fell inboard.
As some who turn over these pages may not have read the proceedings
of the Court-martial held after the return of her officers to
England, I will insert a short account, derived chiefly from those of
old friends and shipmates, who were on board her at the awful time of
her wreck.
The Thetis sailed from Rio de Janeiro on the 4th of December 1830,
and worked to the southward all day, against a southerly wind and
thick foggy weather. At 1h. 30m. A.M. on the 5th, she saw Raza Island
for the last time, bearing N.W. by W., and distant eight or nine
miles. The weather was still hazy, indeed at times very thick, and
the wind south-east. She stood off on the larboard tack until seven
A.M., and then the wind having increased, and a cross sea getting up,
she wore to the eastward. Soon afterwards the wind drew to SS.E., and
the ship was kept by the wind on the starboard tack until 1h. 30m.
P.M., when it was considered that Cape Frio bore about N. 40° E.,
distant thirty-eight miles. The position at noon, by dead reckoning,
gave the Cape bearing N. 43. E., distant forty-one miles; all the
calculations giving results between that and N. 51. E., fifty-three
miles; but by dead reckoning only, as neither sun, moon, or stars had
been seen. At 1h. 30m. the wind being scant, the ship was steered E.
by N., and at two, a cross sea checking her way through the water,
the course was altered to E.N.E. At two, when the course was thus
changed, she had run nineteen miles since noon, and at four, twenty
more miles had been made on the E.N.E. course; at which time, four
P.M. (under the idea that she was almost a-breast of Cape Frio,
supposed to be then distant about twenty-four miles), seeing a large
ship, ‘courses down,’ in-shore of her, steering west or W. by N.,
with all sail set; and the weather clearing, for an interval, without
any land being seen; it was concluded that the Thetis was still
further from the shore than had been estimated, and her course was
altered to N.E. by E. At five, the crew was mustered at quarters,
after which the reefs were mended, and the fore top-gallant sail,
jibs, spanker, and reefed fore top-mast studding-sail were set. From
four o’clock to six she ran, by log, twenty-one miles; after six the
weather became very thick and rainy: and when the look-out men were
relieved at eight o’clock, it was so dark, and rained so fast, that
nothing could be distinguished half a ship’s length distant. Soon
after eight one of the look-out men, named Robinson, said to another
man on the forecastle,[1] “Look how fast that squall is coming” (this
was the cliff looming indistinctly through the rain and darkness),
and next moment, “Land a-head,” “Hard a-port,” rung in the ears of
the startled crew, and were echoed terribly by the crashing bowsprit,
and thundering fall of the ponderous masts.
The hull did not then strike the rocks, having answered the helm so
fast as to be turning off shore when the bowsprit broke; but the
lee yard-arm irons (boom-irons) actually struck fire from the rocky
precipice as they grated harshly against it, the boom ends snapping
off like icicles.
All three masts fell aft and inward, strewing the deck with killed
and wounded men. An immense black barrier impended horribly, against
which heavy breakers were dashing with an ominous sound; but the
ship’s hull was still uninjured. Sentries were placed over the
spirit-room; a sail was hoisted upon the stump of the main-mast; the
winches were manned; guns fired; rockets sent up, and blue-lights
burned; the quarter-boats were cleared away to be ready for lowering;
and an anchor was let go; but the water was so deep, that before
she brought up, her stern drifted upon a more shelving part of the
rock. Several men then tried to land; but, in jumping ashore, many
slipped, and were drowned in the surf, or crushed against the rocks.
The stern and lee quarter boats were dashed to pieces, as the surf
hove the ship against the cliff, and no boat was then available; for
the others were either stove, or so covered with wreck, that they
could not be used. Finding that the anchor, which had been let go,
did no good, but seemed to keep her tailing upon the rocks, the cable
was slipped, after which her head fell off to the westward. It was
then found that the water was gaining, and the winches were worked.
Successive waves threw her starboard quarter upon the rocks; and the
effects of repeatedly striking were soon but too apparent, as the
water burst open the spirit-room hatches.
At this moment a small opening appeared, into which the ship
providentially drove. It was at first thought that this was the
opening into Cape Frio Harbour; but it proved to be only a very
small cove, or indentation of the rocky cliffs. While drifting close
along the rocks into this cove, a hawser was passed ashore, by which
afterwards several persons landed. The ship struck heavily in the
cove, gave some tremendous yawns, and sunk. As she then lay upon the
rocky bottom, each succeeding wave broke over and just covered her.
By a violent surge, the rock to which the hawser above-mentioned
had been made fast, was torn away; and, for a short time, all hope
of further communication with the land was suspended. Every effort
that could be made to convey a rope to the shore was attempted in
vain, until Mr. Geach, the boatswain, went out on the stump of the
bowsprit, and by the help of two belaying-pins, succeeded in throwing
the end of a small rope to the rocks, by which a large one was
immediately hauled ashore, and then kept as much stretched as the
strength of the men who had landed would allow. On this larger rope
each man was slung, in his turn, and hauled by the small one through
the surf to a rough craggy rock. Mr. Geach and John Langley, the
captain of the forecastle, were among the last to leave the ship,
having almost exhausted themselves in slinging their shipmates.
As day-light broke, the last man was hauled ashore. Many were
terribly bruised and lacerated by the fall of the masts, or during
these struggles for life, and twenty-five persons perished. Some of
the officers made their way to a small village near Cape Frio, and
obtained horses, and a guide who conducted them to Rio de Janeiro,
where the melancholy news was communicated to the commander-in-chief.
The captain, the other officers, and the crew, remained near the
place of the wreck, waiting for assistance.
* * * * *
An adequate cause for so great an error in the reckoning of only
nineteen hours as that which occasioned the loss of this fine ship
and twenty-five souls, besides the personal property of those on
board, and a large freight of treasure, is not difficult to find,
even without supposing the compasses to have been in error, or
affected by local attraction, which, by the way, would in this case
have operated in the ship’s favour.
The vicinity of Cape Frio, one of the most salient promontories on
the coast of Brazil, cannot be supposed exempt from currents; set in
motion either by temporary causes, such as strong or lasting winds;
or by the varying pressure of the atmosphere upon different portions
of the ocean:--or from tidal streams, more or less strong.
Presuming that the Thetis was carried out of her supposed position,
by the former cause, about twenty-four miles; surely rather more than
a mile an hour is no surprising current during nineteen hours. But if
a stream of tide also affected her, in that time she would have had
one whole tide either in her favour or against her.
There was no reason to suspect the existence of much current near
Cape Frio, when the Thetis was lost, except on such general grounds
as those just mentioned, because no pilot, as far as I know, was
aware of such a fact. With strong southerly winds ships of large size
do not often leave Rio de Janeiro--coasting vessels never--therefore
few persons could have experienced its effect when sailing from the
port; and when approaching Rio in similar weather, vessels sail
before a fair wind, steer by sight of the land, and take little
notice of the log: besides which, they then employ but three or four
hours in passing through that space of sea where the Thetis was
detained nineteen.
In all probability, such a current as that which drove the Thetis
on the rocks is only to be found during southerly winds, and in the
summer season of that climate, when the general set of the current is
along the coast, towards the south and west.
If a man-of-war is accidentally lost, a degree of astonishment is
expressed at the unexpected fate of a fine ship, well found, well
manned, and well officered; and blame is imputed to some one: but
before admitting a hastily-formed opinion as fact, much inquiry is
necessary. As in the case of the Thetis, an English man-of-war may
incur risk in consequence of a praiseworthy zeal to avoid delaying
in port, as a merchant-ship would probably be obliged to do, from
her being unable to beat out against an adverse wind, and, like that
frigate, may be the first to prove the existence of an unsuspected
danger.
Those who never run any risk; who sail only when the wind is fair;
who heave to when approaching land, though perhaps a day’s sail
distant; and who even delay the performance of urgent duties until
they can be done easily and quite safely; are, doubtless, extremely
prudent persons:--but rather unlike those officers whose names will
never be forgotten while England has a navy.
Of the measures taken for recovering the treasure sunk in the Thetis,
much has appeared in print; therefore I will not add a word to that
subject of controversy.
Weather such as that which caused the loss of the Thetis, is only
at times met with off Cape Frio; a clear sky, with a hot sun, and
but little wind, is more usual; and as my first approach to Rio
de Janeiro, on board H.M.S. Owen Glendower, in 1819, made much
impression upon me, I will endeavour to describe its circumstances.
High blue mountains were seen in the west, just after the sun had
set, and with a fair wind we approached the land rapidly. The sea
was quite smooth, but a freshening breeze upon our quarter carried
us on, nearly thirteen knots an hour. Though dark as any cloudy
tropical night, when neither moon nor star relieves the intense
blackness--astern of us was a long and perfectly straight line of
sparkling light, caused by the ship’s rapid way through the water;
and around the bows, as far forward as the bowsprit end, was dazzling
foam, by whose light I read a page of common print. Sheet lightning
played incessantly near the western horizon: and sometimes the whole
surface of the sea seemed to be illuminated. As the moon rose, and
the breeze decreased, the contrasts of light and darkness, of swift
change of place and apparent tranquillity, lost their effect. Next
morning we had a dead calm: high land towered over the fog-banks,
which were slowly drawn upwards and dispersed by the heat of a
powerful sun; and the sea was smooth as a lake. Numbers of that
beautiful fish, the dorado, often called a dolphin, were caught; and
the vivid, various colours displayed, as they lay upon our deck,
exceeded description. Well I remember too the trouble we middies had
with the sun at noon on that day; not with the sun above our heads,
but with its image reflected by our quadrants. As he was almost
vertical over us, we were dispersed round the ship, each thinking
he had brought the reflected image down to the proper point of the
horizon, until, startled by hearing ‘twelve o’clock,’ reported by the
master, we found too late, and much to our annoyance, that it would
have been wiser to have looked at the compass before observing the
altitude.
Soon after mid-day black curling ripples stole along the hitherto
glassy surface; sail was made, the sea-breeze freshened, and we
steered towards the entrance of that magnificent harbour, Rio de
Janeiro.
Often as it has been visited and described, I cannot expect any one
to require another sketch, but will merely remark that I know no
port equal to it in situation, security, capacity, convenience, and
abundant supply of every necessary, as well as in picturesque beauty.
A day or two after the Owen Glendower anchored, a party of her
midshipmen were allowed to take a boat and enjoy a day’s excursion in
the beautiful harbour, or rather gulf. We landed on an island, which
seemed to me like an immense hot-bed, so luxuriant and aromatic were
the shrubs, and so exotical the appearance of every tree and flower.
Years since elapsed have not in the least diminished my recollection
of the novelty and charm of that first view of tropical vegetation.
To return to the Beagle. On the 3d we were near Raza Island, but
detained by calms. The light-house lately erected there showed a
bright revolving, or rather intermitting light. On the following day,
when the sea-breeze set in, we steered for the harbour. The sun shone
brightly, and there were enough passing clouds to throw frequent
shadows over the wooded heights and across vallies, where, at other
times, the brightest tints of varied green were conspicuous: yet I
did not think the place half so beautiful as formerly. The charm of
novelty being gone, and having anticipated too much, were perhaps the
causes; and it is possible that so much wood has been cleared away in
late years, as to have diminished sensibly the rich and picturesque
appearance which it certainly once possessed.
As we shortened sail under the stern of our flag-ship, I was
surprised by finding Sir Thomas Baker, the Commander-in-chief,
giving directions for the positions to be taken forthwith by the
ships of his squadron then present, and orders for the boats to be
prepared for landing marines. This was in consequence of one of those
disturbances almost usual in South America, especially in Brazil.
Some outrages had been committed in the town, and a mutiny had broken
out among the troops. Under old and established governments, revolt
and mutiny are events which so seldom occur that their shock is not
only felt at the time, but transmits vibrations through succeeding
ages. In these unsettled states, however, they recur so frequently,
that even on the spot they cause little sensation, and excepting by
those personally concerned, are scarcely remembered afterwards.
Few strangers visit the metropolis of Brazil without being
disappointed, if not disgusted. Numbers of almost naked negroes,
hastening along narrow streets--offensive sights and smells, an
uncivil and ill-looking native population--indispose one to be
pleased, even with novelty; but impressions such as these soon wear
off. In the environs of the city are many good houses, in beautiful
situations; and while enjoying delightful rides amidst the richest
and most varied scenery, or resting in the shade of a veranda,
refreshed by the sea-breeze, and overlooking a prospect hardly to be
surpassed in the world, the annoyances and the nuisances of the town
are forgotten.
With respect to astronomical observations, I was extremely
unfortunate at Rio de Janeiro, except in those simple ones for time
and latitude, which depend upon sextants and artificial horizons.
Being the rainy season, but few nights were favourable for observing
the transits of stars with the moon, and those few were too near the
full moon to be available. But had the weather been otherwise, I
doubt whether I should have obtained satisfactory results, because
the transit instrument employed was of an inferior construction,
and still more, because I was unaccustomed to its use. So much time
was employed, to the prejudice of other duties, in adjusting and
re-adjusting this imperfect instrument, and ineffectually watching
for intervals of clear sky, that I resolved to set up the transit
no more, until I had an interval of leisure, and a prospect of some
cloudless nights.
Having so many good chronometers on board; being practised in
observations such as they require; and placing great confidence in
their results; I felt inclined to give attention and time to them
rather than to perplex myself, and cause much delay in moving from
place to place, by attempting series of observations which would give
occupation to an astronomer, and could not be undertaken by me, while
actively engaged in coast-survey, without interfering with other
duties.
In the Appendix it may be seen how far results obtained by the
chronometers agree with those of a higher class, especially with the
recent ones of Captain Beechey, to whose determinations, resulting
from moon-culminating observations, I conclude that a high value will
be attached, because he is a well-practised and able observer.
As I found that a difference, exceeding four miles of longitude,
existed between the meridian distance from Bahia to Rio, determined
by the French expedition under Baron Roussin, and that measured by
the Beagle; yet was unable to detect any mistake or oversight on
my part; I resolved to return to Bahia, and ascertain whether the
Beagle’s measurement was incorrect. Such a step was not warranted by
my instructions; but I trusted to the Hydrographer for appreciating
my motives, and explaining them to the Lords of the Admiralty. In a
letter to Captain Beaufort, I said, “I have not the least doubt of
our measurement from Bahia; but do not think that any other person
would rely on this one measure only, differing widely, as it does,
from that of a high authority--the Baron Roussin. By repeating it, if
it should be verified, more weight will be given to other measures
made by the same instruments and observers.”
We sailed with the ebb-tide and sea-breeze, cleared the port before
the land-wind rose, and when it sprung up steered along the coast
towards Cape Frio. Most persons prefer sailing from Rio early in the
morning, with the land-wind; but to any well-manned vessel, there is
no difficulty whatever in working out of the port during a fresh
sea-breeze, unless the flood-tide should be running in strongly.
On this passage one of our seamen died of a fever, contracted when
absent from the Beagle with several of her officers, on an excursion
to the interior part of the extensive harbour of Rio de Janeiro. One
of the ship’s boys, who was in the same party, lay dangerously ill,
and young Musters seemed destined to be another victim to this deadly
fever.
It was while the interior of the Beagle was being painted, and
no duty going on except at the little observatory on Villegagnon
Island, that those officers who could be spared made this excursion
to various parts of the harbour. Among other places they were in the
river Macacu, and passed a night there. No effect was visible at the
time; the party returned in apparent health, and in high spirits; but
two days had not elapsed when the seaman, named Morgan, complained of
headach and fever.
The boy Jones and Mr. Musters were taken ill, soon afterwards, in a
similar manner; but no serious consequences were then apprehended,
and it was thought that a change of air would restore them to health.
Vain idea! they gradually became worse; the boy died the day after
our arrival in Bahia; and, on the 19th of May, my poor little friend
Charles Musters, who had been entrusted by his father to my care, and
was a favourite with every one, ended his short career.
My chief object in now mentioning these melancholy facts is to warn
the few who are not more experienced than I was at that time, how
very dangerous the vicinity of rivers may be in hot climates. Upon
making more inquiry respecting those streams which run into the great
basin of Rio de Janeiro, I found that the Macacu was notorious among
the natives as being often the site of pestilential malaria, fatal
even to themselves. How the rest of our party escaped, I know not;
for they were eleven or twelve in number, and occupied a day and
night in the river. When they left the ship it was not intended that
they should go up any river; the object of their excursion being
to visit some of the beautiful islets which stud the harbour. None
of us were aware, however, that there was so dangerous a place as
the fatal Macacu within reach. I questioned every one of the party,
especially the second lieutenant and master, as to what the three who
perished had done different from the rest; and discovered that it was
believed they had bathed during the heat of the day, against positive
orders, and unseen by their companions; and that Morgan had slept in
the open air, outside the tent, the night they passed on the bank of
the Macacu.
As far as I am aware, the risk, in cases such as these, is chiefly
encountered by sleeping on shore, exposed to the air on or near the
low banks of rivers, in woody or marshy places subject to great
solar heat. Those who sleep in boats, or under tents, suffer less
than persons sleeping on shore and exposed; but they are not always
exempt, as the murderous mortalities on the coast of Africa prove.
Whether the cause of disease is a vapour, or gas, formed at night in
such situations, or only a check to perspiration when the body is
peculiarly affected by the heat of the climate, are questions not
easy to answer, if I may judge from the difficulty I have found in
obtaining any satisfactory information on the subject. One or two
remarks may be made here, perhaps.--The danger appears to be incurred
while sleeping; or when over-heated; not while awake and moderately
cool; therefore we may infer that a check to the perspiration which
takes place at those times is to be guarded against, rather than
the breathing of any peculiar gas, or air, rising from the rivers
or hanging over the land, which might have as much effect upon a
person awake, as upon a sleeper. Also, to prevent being chilled by
night damp, and cold, as well as to purify the air, if vapour or gas
should indeed be the cause of fever, it is advisable to keep a large
fire burning while the sun is below the horizon. But the subject of
malaria has been so fully discussed by medical men, that even this
short digression is unnecessary.
To return to the narrative. Mr. Bynoe consulted with the best medical
advisers at Bahia, and afterwards at Rio de Janeiro, and he and I had
the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that the best had been done
for his patients.
The affectionate kindness of Mr. Bynoe on this, and indeed every
occasion where his skill and attention were required, will never be
forgotten by any of his shipmates.
In our passage from Rio de Janeiro to Bahia, we passed between the
Abrolhos Islands and the main land, having a fresh southerly wind,
and cloudy weather, with frequent rain. Of course there was some
anxiety until we saw the islands, and it was necessary to keep the
lead constantly going; but we got into no difficulty, and, assisted
by Massey’s log, as well as Massey’s lead, we made a short passage,
without an hour’s delay or scant wind. This was favourable for the
chronometer measurement, and I was deeply gratified by finding, soon
after our arrival, that the measure from Rio to Bahia confirmed that
previously made, even to a second of time.
On the 23d of May, we sailed the second time from Bahia, and steered
to pass as near as possible to the eastern side of the Abrolhos; but,
owing to unfavourable winds, could not approach nearer to them than
in fourteen fathoms water.
When examining many of the cases of preserved meat[2] with which the
Admiralty had ordered us to be provided, we found that several had
burst and caused a most disagreeable smell. This was not the fault
of the tin cases, but an unavoidable accident consequent upon their
being stowed where salt water had occasional access, and corroded the
tin. In so small and so crammed a hold as ours, it was not easy to
make stowage for every thing that ought to be kept dry, particularly
with a hatch-deck, while rolling about in the Bay of Biscay; but
being warned by this first appearance of decay, our internal
arrangement was partly changed, and some of the hatches on the lower
deck temporarily caulked down.
Delayed by southerly winds and a long heavy swell from the southward,
we made rather a tedious passage back to Rio, and did not anchor
until the night of the 3d of June.
Next day (4th) the usual sets of equal altitudes were observed; and
after the chronometer rates were ascertained, I had the satisfaction
of finding that this third meridian distance agreed exactly with
the first and second. Upon further examination, it was seen that
the Abrolhos Islands were laid down correctly in the French chart,
with respect to Bahia; but that the meridian distance between those
islands and Rio de Janeiro differed more than four miles from that
resulting from three measures made by our twenty chronometers.
A few weeks afterwards all the data and results of these measurements
were given to the French Commander-in-chief on the station, who
promised to forward them to the Baron Roussin; but I have heard
nothing of their having been received. Even those who are disposed
to place little reliance on the performance of chronometers, and who
doubt the accuracy of distances measured by the transport of time,
might be interested by a glance at the particulars of these meridian
distances, which are given in the Appendix. They much increased my
own confidence in that simple method of ascertaining differences of
longitude, and tended to determine my dependence upon a connected
chain of meridian distances, in preference to any other mode of
finding the precise longitude.
While watering, and rating the chronometers, a few comparatively
leisure days afforded a seasonable opportunity for trying the
qualities of boats, and exciting fair emulation among their crews.
With the Commander-in-chief’s permission, and the encouragement of
the officers of his squadron, then in the port, some good boat-races
were arranged; and knowing how much might afterwards depend upon
the qualities of the Beagle’s boats, it was very gratifying to
find them excellent. Four of the set were built by Mr. Johns, the
well-known boat-builder in Plymouth Dock-yard, and the other two by
Mr. May, our carpenter. Captain Talbot, of the Warspite, and Captain
Waldegrave, of the Seringapatam, tried their best boats and best men
on two successive days, to the encouragement of the boats’ crews
and boat-sailers of the squadron, and much to the surprise of the
Brazilians, who had never witnessed any thing like a regatta.
From our first arrival at Rio de Janeiro, until we were ready to
leave, finally, in July, little Fuegia was staying on shore, at
the house of an Englishwoman, near Botafogo bay; and it is worth
noticing, that while there, she was supposed by strangers to be
one of the aboriginal natives of Brazil: and that I went with York
and Jemmy to see a person (who had been many years resident in the
interior of Brazil) who remarked, directly he saw them, “they are
extremely like the Brazilian aborigines!”
At this time of year (July) the climate of Rio is comparatively cool
and pleasant. Cloudy skies, southerly winds, and rain, are frequent;
but there is less thunder and lightning than in summer, when not only
thunder-storms occur often, but every night there is a continual
flashing or reflection of lightning over the distant Organ mountains.
Many ships and buildings have been struck, during late years, still
there are but a very few protected by lightning conductors. I was a
lieutenant on board the Thetis, when her foremast was shattered by
lightning, in Rio Harbour, and shall not easily forget the sensation.
Some of the officers were sitting in the gun-room, one very dark
evening, while the heavens were absolutely black, and the air hot
and close, to an oppressive degree, but not a drop of rain falling,
when a rattling crash shook the ship. Some thought several guns had
been fired together--others, that an explosion of powder had taken
place; but one said--“The ship is struck by lightning!” and that was
the case. The top-gallant masts were not aloft; but the fore-topmast
was shivered into a mere collection of splinters; the hoops on the
foremast were burst, and the interior, as well as outside of the
mast, irreparably injured. From the foremast the electric fluid
seemed to have escaped by some conductor, without doing further
damage; yet it filled the fore part of the ship with a sulphureous
smell, and the men who were there thought something full of gunpowder
was blown up.
No person received injury: the foremast was taken out afterwards,
and replaced by another, purchased from the Brazilian government
at a great expense, and made by the carpenters of the Thetis. I
should say that the electric fluid shook rather than shattered the
fore-topmast, for it did not fall, but resembled a bundle of long
splinters, almost like reeds. It twisted round the head of the
foremast, instead of descending by the shortest line, went into the
centre of the spar, and then out again to the hoops, every one of
which, above the deck, was burst asunder. The Thetis was to have
sailed in a few days, but was detained by this accident almost two
months. She had no conductor in use.
Only two or three flashes of lightning were seen afterwards; they
were accompanied by loud peals of thunder, and then heavy rain poured
down. Just before the rain began, St. Elmo’s fire was seen at each
yard-arm, and at the mast-head. Those who have not seen this light,
always a favourite with sailors, because they say it only appears
when the worst part of the storm is over, may excuse my saying that
it resembles the light of a piece of phosphorus--not being so bright,
or so small, as that of a glow-worm, nor yet so large as the flame
of a small candle. I was curious enough to go out to a yard-arm and
put my hand on a luminous spot; but, of course, could feel nothing,
and when I moved my hand the spot reappeared. About the same time of
the year in which this happened, the Heron corvette was struck by
lightning, and damaged, while lying at anchor off Buenos Ayres, in
the river Plata, a locality extremely subject to vivid lightning, yet
different in every respect from that of Rio de Janeiro: one being a
flat, open country, near a fresh water river, and in latitude 34°;
the other a mountainous and woody region, near the sea, and within
the tropic of Capricorn.
On the 5th of July we sailed from Rio de Janeiro, honoured by a
salute, not of guns, but of hearty cheers from H.M.S. Warspite.
Strict etiquette might have been offended at such a compliment to a
little ten-gun brig, or, indeed, to any vessel unless she were going
out to meet an enemy, or were returning into port victorious: but
although not about to encounter a foe, our lonely vessel was going
to undertake a task laborious, and often dangerous, to the zealous
execution of which the encouragement of our brother-seamen was no
trifling inducement.
While in harbour, a few alterations had been made in the disposition
of our guns and stores, as well as some slight changes in the sails
and rigging; and as the Beagle’s equipment afterwards remained
unaltered, I will here briefly describe it. She was rigged as a bark;
her masts were strongly supported by squarer cross-trees and tops,
and by larger rigging than usual in vessels of her tonnage.[3] Chains
were used where found to answer, and in no place was a block or a
sheave allowed which did not admit the proper rope or chain freely.
There were large trysails between the masts, made of stout canvas,
with several reefs, and very useful we found them. On the forecastle
was a six-pound boat-carronade: before the ches-tree were two brass
six-pound guns: close to the bulwark on each side of the waist were
the ‘booms;’ and amidships two boats, on the diagonal principle,
one stowed inside the other, and as close to the deck as possible;
being secured by iron cranks, or supports. Abaft the main-mast were
four brass guns, two nine-pound, and two six-pound: the skylights
were large; there was no capstan; over the wheel the poop-deck
projected, and under it were cabins, extremely small, certainly,
though filled in inverse proportion to their size. Below the upper
deck her accommodations were similar to, though rather better than
those of vessels of her class. Over the quarter-deck, upon skids,
two whale-boats, eight-and-twenty feet long, were carried; upon each
quarter was a whale-boat twenty-five feet in length, and astern was a
dinghy.
A few leagues southward of the port is a good situation for enjoying
a general view of the picturesque mountains in its vicinity. When
near the shore one only sees those of an inferior order; and it is
not until an offing is gained that the bold and varied outlines of
the distant Organ Mountains,[4] the sharp peak of the Corcovado,
and the singular heights over Tijuca, can be seen at once. Whimsical
allusion has been made to the first Lord Hood in the name by which
one of these heights is called by English sailors; and in their
general outline is a fancied resemblance to a huge giant lying on his
back.
Off Santa Martha, a sort of Cape Spartivento, near which one rarely
passes without having a change of wind, if not a storm, we were
detained by strong southerly gales, which raised a high sea. This
extreme movement and delay I regretted much at the time, on account
of the chronometers; but the sequel shewed that such motion did not
affect them materially, and that alterations of their rates were
caused chiefly, if not entirely, by changes of temperature.
Gales in the latitude of Santa Martha generally commence with
north-westerly winds, thick cloudy weather, rain, and lightning. When
at their height, the barometer begins to rise (having previously
fallen considerably), soon after which the wind flies round, by the
west, to south-west, and from that quarter usually blows very hard
for several hours. But these, which are the ordinary gales, blow
from, or along the land, and do not often raise such a sea as is
sometimes found off this coast during a south-east storm.
After a tiresome continuance of south-west winds, I became anxious to
make Santa Catharina, but before we could reach it the wind changed,
and enabled us to steer along the coast towards the south. Having
mentioned Santa Catharina, I may as well add a few words to the
many lavished in its praise by voyagers of all nations; for it is,
excepting Rio de Janeiro, and perhaps Bahia, the best trading port
on the east coast of South America; and, considering its situation,
capabilities, and productions, is a place in which seamen must
always have an interest. It enjoys the advantages of a temperate
climate; an extensive and accessible harbour; a most fertile country,
abounding in the necessaries of life; and a mercantile position of
much importance. The people are more inclined to exert themselves
than those in northern Brazil; a difference arising partly, no doubt,
from effect of climate; but chiefly from their having descended from
active and enterprising, though lawless settlers, who were ejected
from other places; and from a few respectable colonists induced
to emigrate from the Azores. Before I quit the neighbourhood of
frequented ports on this coast, one possessing peculiar interest,
Santos, ought to be mentioned; to remind seamen that they may there
also obtain any refreshments, and secure their ships in a sheltered
creek, quite easy of access. For several leagues round Santos there
is an extensive flat, covered with thick woods, but intersected by
rivers and salt water inlets, whose banks are lined with thickets
of mangrove trees. Inland a mountain range abruptly rises to the
height of two or three thousand feet, every where clothed with almost
impenetrable forests. The climate is, however, unhealthy in December,
January, and February; and during the whole year there is a great
deal of rain.
Returning to the coast southward of Santa Catharina, I may mention
that Cape Santa Martha, and the shores extending northward of it, are
high and woody, like the greater part of the coast of Brazil; but
that on the south side of the promontory there is a complete change
of character: lofty ranges of mountains sinking into low treeless
shores, whose outline is as tame and unvarying as that of the former
is bold and picturesque.
While sailing along the level uninteresting coast just mentioned,
with a fresh breeze off the land, we found it bitterly cold,
though the thermometer never was below 40° Faht.: so much does our
perception of heat or cold depend upon comparison. Some of our
exaggerated opinions as to the coldness of the southern hemisphere
may have arisen from the circumstances under which voyagers usually
visit high southern latitudes, immediately after enduring the heat of
the tropics, and without staying long enough to ascertain the real
average temperature during a whole year.
On the 22d of July we were near the river Plata, and as the weather,
after sunset, became very dark, with thunder and lightning, though
with but little wind, we anchored in the vicinity of Cape S^{ta}
Maria to avoid being drifted about by irregular currents. For upwards
of an hour St. Elmo fires were seen at each mast-head, and at some
of the yard-arms: the mast-head vane also, fixed horizontally,
and framed with copper, had an illuminated border round it. Heavy
rain, much thunder, and a fresh southerly wind followed; but as we
were prepared for bad weather, and the sea did not rise much, we
maintained our position till daylight next morning, notwithstanding
an officer of the watch startling me by reporting that we must be
very near the land, because he heard bullocks bellowing.[5]
On the 23d we entered the great estuary of this shallow though wide
river, a hundred and twenty miles across at this part, yet averaging
less than ten fathoms in depth; and above fifty miles wide between
Monte Video and the opposite point, called Piedras, where the average
depth is not more than three fathoms. Very great care is required by
vessels navigating the Plata, because of its exceedingly dangerous
shoals, its strong and irregular currents, and the sudden tempests to
which it is subject. The shoals and currents may be guarded against
by a very careful attention to the lead, and a ground-log; but the
fury of a violent pampero[6] must be endured. The land on each side
of the Plata is so low, and those extraordinary plains called pampas,
hundreds of miles in extent, are so perfectly free from a single
obstacle which might offer any check to the storm, that a pampero
sweeps over land and water with the weight of a rushing hurricane.
Captain King has already described one, by which the Beagle suffered
severely, in 1829;[7] but having, to my sorrow, been more immediately
concerned, I will endeavour to give a brief account of that
disastrous affair, as a warning to others.
On the 30th of January 1829, the Beagle was standing in, from sea,
towards the harbour of Maldonado. Before mid-day the breeze was
fresh from N.N.W., but after noon it became moderate, and there was
a gloominess, and a close sultry feeling, which seemed to presage
thunder and rain. I should mention that during three preceding nights
banks of clouds had been noticed near the south-west horizon, over
which there was a frequent reflection of very distant lightning.
The barometer had been falling since the 25th, slowly, but steadily,
and on the 30th, at noon, it was at 29.4, and the thermometer 78°. I,
and those with me, thought little about the fall of the mercury, and
still less about the threatening aspect of the south-west horizon.
“Heavy rain,” I thought, “at night, will not signify when we are
moored in Maldonado:” and there was then every prospect of our
reaching that port before night.
Having been often in the river Plata, and once for eight months
successively, I had acquired a familiarity with the place, and a
disregard for pamperoes, which was not surprising in a young man who
had witnessed many, but certainly, as it happened, not one of so
serious a nature as to cause any particular impression on his mind. I
had not then learned never to despise an enemy.
At about three o’clock the wind was light, and veering about from
north-west to north-east. There was a heavy bank of clouds in the
south-west, and occasionally lightning was visible even in daylight.
Myriads of insects, such as butterflies, dragon-flies, and moths,
came off from the land; driven, as it appeared, by gusts of heated
wind. At four the breeze freshened up from N.N.W., and obliged us
to take in all light sails. Maldonado Tower then bore west, and
Lobos Island (centre) S.W.b.S. The weather became more unsettled
and threatening, though still we had no expectation of any material
change before night: but soon after five it became so dark towards
the south-west, and the lightning increased so much, that we
shortened sail to the reefed topsails and foresail; still hoping to
reach our destination before the pampero began. Shortly before six
the upper clouds in the south-west quarter assumed a singularly
hard, and rolled or tufted appearance, like great bales of black
cotton, and altered their forms so rapidly, that I ordered sail to be
shortened, and the topsails to be furled, leaving set only a small
new foresail. The water was smooth, and, not being deep, there was
none of that agitated swell usually noticed before a storm in the
great ocean.
Gusts of hot wind came off the nearest land, at intervals of about
a minute. The fore-topsail was just furled, and the men down from
aloft, the main-topsail in the gaskets, but the men still on the
yard, when a furious blast from the north-west struck the ship. The
helm was put up, and she paid off fast; yet the wind changed still
more quickly, and blew so heavily from south-west, that the foresail
split to ribands, and the ship was thrown almost on her beam-ends,
and no longer answered her helm. The main-topsail was instantly blown
loose out of the men’s hands, whose lives were in imminent danger;
the fore-topsail blew adrift out of the gaskets; the mainsail blew
away out of the gear; the lee hammock-netting was under water; and
the vessel apparently capsizing, when topmasts and jib-boom went,
close to the caps, and she righted considerably. Both anchors were
cut away (for the land was under our lee), and a cable veered upon
each, which brought her head to wind, and upright. The heaviest rush
of wind had then passed, but it was still blowing a hard gale, and
the Beagle was pitching her forecastle into the short high waves
which had risen. As the depth of water was small, and the ground
tenacious clay, both anchors held firmly, and our utmost exertions
were immediately directed towards clearing the wreck, and saving the
remains of our broken spars and tattered sails. Had we suffered in no
other way, I should have felt joy at having escaped so well, instead
of the deep regret occasioned by the loss of two seamen, whose lives,
it seemed, might have been spared to this day had I anchored and
struck topmasts, instead of keeping under sail in hopes of entering
Maldonado before the pampero began.
When the main-topsail blew away from the men, who struggled hard to
keep it fast, they could scarcely hold on, or get off the yard, and
one young man fell from the lee yard-arm into the sea. Poor fellow,
he swam well, but in vain: the ship was unmanageable, almost overset,
the weather quarter boat stove, and the lee one under water: a
grating was thrown to him, and the life-buoy let go, but he was seen
no more. Another man was supposed to have been carried overboard with
the main-topmast, as he was last seen on the cap.
The starboard quarter boat was stove by the force of the wind; and
the other was washed away: and so loud was the sound of the tempest,
that I did not hear the masts break, though standing, or rather
holding, by the mizen rigging. Never before or since that time have
I witnessed such strength, or, I may say, weight of wind: thunder,
lightning, hail, and rain, came with it, but they were hardly noticed
in the presence of so formidable an accompaniment.
After seven the clouds had almost all passed away; the wind settled
into a steady south-west gale, with a clear sky; the barometer rose
to 29.8, and the thermometer fell to 46°. Lobos Island was set S.E.,
bearing distant two miles.
In this pampero the masts of a vessel, at anchor off Monte Video,
were carried away; and the upper cabin bulkhead of a Brazilian
corvette was blown in while lying at anchor, head to wind, with her
masts struck. But Maldonado seemed to feel its utmost violence;
and there it certainly commenced like a whirlwind. A small boat,
belonging to a poor man who carried fruit and vegetables to ships in
the bay, was hauled ashore, just above high-water mark, and fastened,
by a strong rope, to a large stone. After the storm it was found far
from the beach, shattered to pieces, but still fast to the stone,
which it had dragged along. Not many days after our disaster, while
lying in Maldonado bay, repairing damages, another pampero assailed
the Beagle; but though it did her no injury, it blew the boat, stove
by its predecessor, away from the place on shore where she was being
repaired, and left no trace of her behind.
Singular fluctuations occur in the river Plata before and after these
pamperoes.[8] For some days previously the river rises, and it is
always higher than usual when the south-west wind begins: but, after
a few hours, the water falls rapidly, and vessels are left aground:
indeed instances have been known of the upper parts of the river,
near Buenos Ayres, being so much emptied by strong south-westerly,
or westerly winds, that men have rode several miles into its bed,
to places where ships usually anchor. I have myself known the water
fall, in the outer road, off Buenos Ayres, from six to two fathoms,
in less than twelve hours, in a place where the usual depth was four
fathoms. Such a change as this would not be thought remarkable where
tides usually rise several fathoms; but in the river Plata, where
there is very little, if any, tide, where the width of the channel
is so great in proportion to its depth, and the confining boundaries
are so low, and in many places easily overflowed, a variation of four
fathoms cannot take place without causing great difficulties and
destruction. In this particular instance,[9] a heavy gale from the
eastward dammed up the river for some days; and then changing, by
the south, to the westward, emptied it again proportionably. Small
craft were left literally scattered about the low country bordering
on the river near Buenos Ayres, and many vessels never floated again.
By that gale, which blew directly up the river, and raised a heavy
sea, every vessel was driven ashore from the inner road of Buenos
Ayres, except a schooner. Fourteen English merchant vessels lay high
and dry upon the shore next day, most of them totally lost. The Owen
Glendower, bearing the broad pendant of Sir Thomas Hardy, the Icarus
brig, and two or three merchant vessels, anchored in the outer road,
weathered it out with topmasts struck; but all drove considerably,
except the frigate, and she brought both anchors ahead, backed by
stream anchors with half a cable on each, and riding with a whole
cable on each bower, in four fathoms water, over very soft tenacious
ground. Part of her forecastle netting was washed away by the sea,
though she was an excellent roadster, and at that time drawing a foot
less water than usual. She also lost a boat in a manner so likely to
be of future occurrence, that I will yet digress, in hopes of being
useful, by relating the incident.
Her barge, ably managed by an experienced seaman,[10] had tried to
beat off from the town to the ship, during the commencement of the
gale, but could get no farther than the leewardmost merchantman in
the outer road. Astern of that vessel she was made fast by a strong
hawser, and there rode out the gale admirably until the current
began to set out of the river: when the boat was carried against the
vessel, and knocked to pieces before any thing could be done to save
her, as the sea was running high, and the wind still blowing a gale.
The Druid frigate, when lying there,[11] would have lost a boat in
the same way, had it not been one of those excellent diagonal boats,
built by Mr. Johns; for it was taken, by the strong weather current,
under the ship’s bottom, and kept striking there long enough to have
broken any ordinary boat into a thousand pieces; but nevertheless she
appeared again with only her gunwales injured, the bottom being still
perfectly sound.
The Plata has been called by the Spaniards ‘El Infierno de los
marineros;’ sufficient stress has not however been laid on the
redeeming qualities which it possesses in having anchoring ground
every where, and in soundings, whose nature tells whether you are
approaching danger; as on and near the banks the bottom is hard;
while in the deeper water it is very soft.
I have remarked that before a continuance of southerly winds the
water rises considerably in this river; and I may add, that the
reverse takes place under opposite circumstances. Some persons
attribute this change of level to the horizontal action of wind; but
I am inclined to think it occasioned chiefly by vertical pressure of
the atmosphere, increased, doubtless, during strong winds by their
driving force.
Before a pampero, the barometer continues to fall during several
days, and invariably the water then rises. The gale commences, the
barometer ceases falling and begins to rise, and very soon afterwards
the level of the river is found to be sinking. For many following
days the glass remains high, but the water continues to fall, and,
generally speaking, the river is low while the mercury is steady
and above the average height, which I should consider to be 29·9
inches. In the Plata I never saw the barometer higher than 30·3, nor
lower than 29·4.[12] I will not delay here to speak of corresponding
elevations or depressions of the ocean at other parts of the South
American coast, and attempt to trace out the effects of gales in high
latitudes, the space through which those winds extend, and whether
they reach or affect places in a low or even middle latitude; but
leaving such inquiries for another place, take a few more glances at
the vicinity of the Plata, and then continue the narrative.
Having already noticed the width and average shallowness of this
immense river, and the lowness of its adjacent shores, I need only
add, that on the northern side there is a sprinkling of hills, of
a granitic structure, scattered amidst extensive plains, while on
the south, or right bank, there is neither a hill, a rock, or even
a stone.[13] So low is the land between Point Piedras and Cape
San Antonio, that around the great bay, called Sanborombon, it is
extremely difficult to say where the water ends, or the coast-line
begins. Each difference, of even a foot, in the height of the water,
makes a change of cables’ lengths, if not of miles, in the position
of the limiting line between water and land. In consequence it is
very dangerous for ships to approach that shore; and, although the
bottom is in many places soft, often extremely deep mud, there are
other spaces in which hard lumps of tosca[14] are found, almost as
injurious to a ship’s bottom as actual rock. I am not aware that
there is any granite on the south side of the river Plata, near the
shore; and although the name ‘Piedras’ would incline one to suppose
there are rocks or stones near it, I could only find tosca. But
towards the northern shore rocks are found, and the dangerous shoal
called ‘Banco Yngles,’ is said to have a granitic foundation. The
ridge, of which the English Bank is the north-west extremity, extends
eastward, inclining to the south, considerably beyond a line drawn
from Cape Santa Maria to Cape San Antonio, and less than ten fathoms
water may be found upon it out of sight of land. Northward of the
ridge the depth of water varies from ten to thirty fathoms over a
very soft bottom of bluish mud; and to the southward of it there
are from twelve to three fathoms (diminishing as you approach San
Antonio) over a softish bottom of brown or yellow muddy sand.[15]
When it is considered that three very large rivers, besides a host
of smaller streams, enter the ocean by the estuary whose more
remarkable features we are noticing, that two of those rivers are
flooded periodically by tropical rains,[16] and that very heavy gales
assist in emptying or filling the shallow wide gulf, in which floods
of fresh water contend against the volume of a powerful ocean; not
only will frequent variations in depth be expected, as a natural
consequence, but also strong and varying currents. Little or no tide
has been hitherto noticed with any degree of accuracy in the estuary
of the Plata; but this anomaly may be more apparent than real: for
where the depth of water is so fluctuating, and the currents are
so variable, it is difficult to distinguish the precise effects of
tides, except by a series of observations far longer than has yet
been made.
To say much of Maldonado village, the town of Monte Video, or the
city of Buenos Ayres, would be to repeat an ‘oft-told tale.’ The
views attached to this volume will give a tolerably clear idea of
a few striking peculiarities which are immediately noticed by the
eye of a stranger; and of the inhabitants themselves I will only
venture to say, upon my slight acquaintance with them, that although
prejudiced by their erroneous ideas of freedom, and deficient in high
principles, they are courteous and agreeable as mere acquaintances,
kind to strangers, and extremely hospitable.
It is well known that there are very few trees[17] on either bank of
the Plata near its mouth, or on those immense plains, called pampas,
excepting here and there an ‘ombu,’[18] or some which have been
planted near houses; or a few copses of small trees (mostly peach)
planted for fuel: but I have not heard any sufficient reason given
for this scarcity of wood, in a country covered with a great depth of
alluvial soil, and adjoining districts in which trees are abundant.
The only second causes for such a peculiarity, which I can imagine,
are the following: the nature of the soil, which may be unsuited to
most trees, although very productive of grass and gigantic thistles:
the furious storms which sweep along the level expanse, and would
demolish tender, unprotected young trees: the general want of water,
which in some years is so great as to become a severe drought: and
the numerous herds of wild cattle which range over the plains, and
eat up every leaf which retains any moisture during the dry heats of
summer. Before there were herds of cattle, guanacoes ranged over the
country, in great numbers, as they now do to the southward of the
river Negro, where I have seen them grazing in large companies, like
flocks of sheep. During the droughts above-mentioned vast numbers of
cattle die for want of water, and perhaps this may be the principal
reason why so few trees grow there naturally; but it cannot be the
only one, because they grow where planted, and partially sheltered,
though not watered.
Most people are aware of the scale upon which the cattle farms of
the ‘Banda Oriental’ and ‘Republica Argentina’ were carried on: but
the civil wars which have succeeded the steady government of Spain
have broken up and ruined many of the largest establishments, where
from one hundred to two hundred thousand head of cattle were owned
by one man--where the annual increase was about thirty per cent--and
where the animals were, generally speaking, slaughtered for their
hides alone. What must be the natural fertility of a country, which,
without the slightest assistance from man, can nourish such enormous
multitudes of cattle, besides immense droves of horses and flocks of
sheep, and yet, except near its few towns, appear almost destitute of
inhabitants.
To return to our little vessel--entering the Plata in 1832.
Unfavourable winds, and currents setting out of the river, delayed
our progress, and obliged us to anchor frequently. We arrived at
Monte Video on the 26th, and lost no time in making observations for
our chronometers, and preparing for surveying the coasts southward
of Cape San Antonio: but as I found that it would be advisable to
visit Buenos Ayres, in order to communicate with the Government, and
obtain information, we sailed from Monte Video on the 31st, and two
days afterwards anchored off Buenos Ayres. There, however, we did
not remain an hour; for the misconduct of a Buenos Ayrean officer
on board a vessel under their colours, and a vexatious regulation
with respect to quarantine, decided my returning forthwith to Monte
Video; and commissioning a capable person to procure for me copies of
some original charts, which I thought would be exceedingly useful,
and which could only be obtained from the remains of hydrographical
information, collected by Spain, but kept in the archives of Buenos
Ayres. The Beagle anchored again off Monte Video, on the 3d of
August, and as soon as the circumstances which occasioned her return
were made known to Captain G. W. Hamilton, commanding the Druid
frigate, that ship sailed for Buenos Ayres.
Scarcely had the Druid disappeared beneath the horizon, when the
chief of the Monte Video police and the captain of the port came
on board the Beagle to request assistance in preserving order in
the town, and in preventing the aggressions of some mutinous negro
soldiers. I was also requested by the Consul-general to afford the
British residents any protection in my power; and understanding that
their lives, as well as property, were endangered by the turbulent
mutineers, who were more than a match for the few well-disposed
soldiers left in the town, I landed with fifty well-armed men, and
remained on shore, garrisoning the principal fort, and thus holding
the mutineers in check, until more troops were brought in from the
neighbouring country, by whom they were surrounded and reduced
to subordination. The Beagle’s crew were not on shore more than
twenty-four hours, and were not called upon to act in any way; but
I was told by the principal persons whose lives and property were
threatened, that the presence of those seamen certainly prevented
bloodshed.
Some days after this little interruption to our usual avocations, we
sailed across the river to Point Piedras, anchored there for some
hours to determine its position, then went to Cape San Antonio, and
from that point (rather than cape) began our survey of the outer
coast. To relate many details of so slow and monotonous an occupation
as examining any shore of which the more interesting features have
long been known, could answer no good purpose, and would be very
tiresome to a general reader; therefore I shall hasten from one
place to another, dwelling only, in my way, upon the few incidents,
or reflections, which may have interest enough to warrant their being
noticed in this abridged narrative, or are absolutely necessary for
carrying on the thread of the story.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Borsworthick. Both these men afterwards sailed with me in the
Beagle.
[2] Prepared by Kilner and Moorsom.
[3] Two hundred and forty-two tons.
[4] So called because they have a number of pinnacles, somewhat like
the pipes of an organ.
[5] These noises must have been the discordant ‘braying’ of the bird
called by seamen ‘jack-ass penguin.’
[6] So called because it appears to come from the vast plains called
‘pampas.’
[7] Vol. i. pp. 189, 190, 191.
[8] Although generally considered by strangers to refer solely to a
squall, or storm, the term pampero is applied by the natives of the
country to every south-westerly wind, whether moderate or a hurricane.
[9] In the year 1820.
[10] The first who took a steam-vessel to the West-Indies.
[11] In 1832.
[12] In estimating weather, or force of wind, by the height of the
mercurial column, due regard should be had to the goodness of the
instrument, as some barometers, used in ships, differ from others
even tenths of an inch.
[13] Which has not been carried there by man, or by running water.
[14] Tosca is a kind of hardened earth, rather than soft stone,
about the consistence of slightly baked clay: it is of a dark brown
colour, and varies in hardness from that which is almost stony, to
the texture of a sound old cheese.
[15] Near Cape San Antonio and Point Tuyu there is very soft mud.
[16] The Paraguay rises so far northward, that (excepting a portage
of three miles) a canoe may go from Monte Video to the mouth of the
Amazon.
[17] The exceptions are so few, that one might almost say there are
no trees which have not been planted.
[18] A kind of elder.