Beagle and Adventure sail from Port Famine through Magdalen and
Cockburn Channel--Enter Pacific--Death of Mr. Rowlett--Chilóe--Chile
--Government--Adventure sold--Consequent changes--Plans--Mr. Low
--Chonos--Lieut. Sulivan’s party--Moraleda--Ladrilleros--De Vea
--Sharp--San Andres--Vallenar--Mr. Stokes--San Estevan--Distressed
sailors--Anna Pink Bay--Port Low--Potatoes--Indian names--Huafo
--Volcano--Chilotes--Aborigines--Militia--Freebooters--Climate
--Docks--Tides--Witchcraft--Alerse--Calbucanos--Cesares--Search
for men--Meteors.
June 9th. Good equal altitudes having been obtained, after an
interval of time sufficient for rating our chronometers,[1] we sailed
from Port Famine, went down the Magdalen Channel, enjoying some
fine scenery, among which Sarmiento was pre-eminent, and anchored
in a cove under Cape Turn. The following day we beat to windward
through the Cockburn Channel, and would have anchored at night had
a safe place offered in time, but as the only cove near us at dusk
was a very small one, I preferred leaving that unoccupied for the
Adventure, and remaining under way in the Beagle. The night was long
and very dark, small rain fell nearly all the time, and squalls from
the westward were frequent. There were but four square miles in which
it was safe to sail to and fro after dark, and for fourteen hours
we traversed that area in every direction. It was necessary to keep
under a reasonable press of sail part of the time, to hold our ground
against the lee tide; but with the ebb we had often to bear up and
run to leeward, when we got too near the islets westward of us. In
a case of this kind a ship is so much more manageable while going
through the water than she is while hove-to, and those on board are
in general so much more on the alert than when the vessel herself
seems half asleep, that I have always been an advocate for short
tacks under manageable sail, so as to keep as much as possible near
the same place, in preference to heaving-to and drifting.
When the day at last broke on the 11th, we saw the Adventure coming
out to us from the cove where she had passed the night, and then both
vessels sailed out of the Channel, past Mount Skyring and all the
Furies, as fast as sails could urge them. At sunset we were near the
Tower Rocks,[2] and with a fresh north-west wind stood out into the
Pacific, with every inch of canvas set which we could carry.
On the 26th we were still together, in latitude 43° and longitude
75°, although gales had occasionally separated us for a few hours.
After passing the latitude of 45° we had a succession of bad weather,
and adverse (N.W.) winds. Trusting too much to our usual good
fortune I had steered in too direct a line towards Chilóe, and in
consequence all these north-west winds were against us. Had I shaped
a course which would have taken us farther from the land, while
we had the wind southward of west, we might have made a fair wind
of these provoking north-westers, and arrived at Chilóe at least
a week sooner. A few remarks upon the wind and weather, between
the parallels of forty and forty-seven, off Chilóe and the Chonos
Archipelago, will be found in the Appendix (No. 19).
On the 27th we witnessed the last moments of Mr. Rowlett’s existence
in this world. He had long been sinking under an internal complaint
of which it was impossible to cure him, except by a vigorous and
uniform mode of treatment to which he was not willing to conform
until too late: but his illness had no relation whatever to the
service in which he had been employed. He was much regretted by all
of us, having been a kind, honourable friend. The following day we
committed the body of our deceased companion to the seaman’s grave,
that “ever-changing and mysterious main.” In the evening we were near
the north-west end of Chilóe, and at midnight an anchor was let go
in our former berth, off Point Arena. The Adventure arrived two days
afterwards, her main-boom having broken in a heavy squall on the
27th, in consequence of which she got to leeward, and was prevented
from sooner weathering the north end of the island. A supply of
fresh provisions and good rates for the chronometers were obtained,
after which we sailed (14th July) for Valparaiso, and arrived there
together on the 22d.
My first object would have been, after seeing the vessels securely
moored, to go to Santiago, present my instructions in the proper
quarter, and ask for the sanction of the Chilian government, in
prosecuting the survey of the coasts of Chile; but I was so much in
arrear with respect to computations and charts, that I could not
venture to give even a week to an excursion to that agreeable place,
where a thousand attractive novelties would inevitably have diverted
my attention in some measure from the dull routine of calculation,
and attention to the data accumulated by many months’ exertion of
those on board the Adventure, as well as in the Beagle; therefore I
sent Lieutenant Wickham, who spoke Spanish, and had been at Santiago
before, to show my instructions to the Authorities, and request their
approval of our examination of the shores under their jurisdiction.
Nothing could be more satisfactory than the reply (Appendix No. 20),
and from that time until the Beagle left Chile she received every
attention and assistance which the Chilian officers could afford.
As I proposed to remain at Valparaiso during the winter months,
Messrs. Stokes, King, Usborne, and myself, whose occupation would be
sedentary and would require room, as well as more light and quiet
than we could always have on board, took up our quarters on shore;
while those on board attended to the refit and provisioning of our
vessels.
At this time I was made to feel and endure a bitter disappointment;
the mortification it caused preyed deeply, and the regret is still
vivid. I found that it would be impossible for me to maintain
the Adventure much longer: my own means had been taxed, even to
involving myself in difficulties, and as the Lords Commissioners of
the Admiralty did not think it proper to give me any assistance, I
saw that all my cherished hopes of examining many groups of islands
in the Pacific, besides making a complete survey of the Chilian and
Peruvian shores, must utterly fail. I had asked to be allowed to
bear twenty additional seamen on the Beagle’s books, whose pay and
provisions would then be provided by Government, being willing to
defray every other expense myself; but even this was refused. As soon
as my mind was made up, after a most painful struggle, I discharged
the Adventure’s crew, took the officers back to the Beagle, and sold
the vessel.[3]
Early in November our charts of the eastern coasts of Patagonia and
Tierra del Fuego, as well as those of the Falkland Islands (the work
of the Adventure) were finished, and shipped off for England; and on
the 10th we sailed, alone, to resume our more active occupations on
the southern coasts. My former intention was to have filled up all
blanks in the charts of the outer west coast of Patagonia, between
the parallels of fifty-three and forty-eight, and then carried a
connected survey along the coast to the equator; after which the
Galapagos Islands; Dangerous Archipelago; Marquesas, Society,
Friendly, and Feejee Islands; besides New Zealand; were to have had
as earnest an examination as could be effected by both vessels during
1836 and part of 1837. That this plan might have been carried out by
the divisions of labour and exertions of the Beagle and her tender
may, I think, be inferred from what has actually been executed with
inferior means and in much less time. But my reduced arrangements
were on a much smaller scale: I could only look to the most useful
objects that might be effected within the limited time to which I
dared to look forward.
All on board partook, more or less, of the mortification caused by
parting with our consort, just as she was most wanted, and most able
to take an effective part; and I confess that my own feelings and
health were so much altered in consequence--so deprived of their
former elasticity and soundness--that I could myself no longer bear
the thoughts of such a prolonged separation from my country, as I had
encouraged others to think lightly of, while I could hold out to
them the prospect of seeing as well as doing a great deal among the
islands of the Pacific, besides completing the surveys of Chile and
Peru.
I now proposed, first, to go to San Carlos, there set two of our
boats at work among the islands eastward of the large island, while
the Beagle would survey the more exposed coasts, those to the west
and south; then the ship was to examine the seaward shores of the
Chonos archipelago, while another of her boats was employed among
those islands; and, the Chonos explored, she would return to San
Carlos, collect her scattered parties, and proceed along the coast,
northwards, taking all the ports and islands in her way.
On the 21st we arrived at San Carlos, and were pleased to find that
Mr. Low had returned safe from his difficult undertaking; and that
a person (Mr. Douglas) whom I had engaged to make an excursion to
Calbuco and into the forests of ‘Alerse,’ on the Cordillera of the
Andes, had also come back with the required information, and was
ready to engage himself to act as a pilot and interpreter.
When last at San Carlos I proposed to Mr. Low, then serving as
pilot on board the Adventure, to pass the time of our absence at
Valparaiso, in exploring part of the Chonos Archipelago with a
whale-boat belonging to me, and a crew of natives (Chilotes). Low,
ever restless and enterprising, entered eagerly into my views;
so furnishing him with money, a chart, and a few instruments, I
explained where I wished him to go, and when he should be again at
San Carlos, all further arrangement being left to him.
Mr. Low hired a crew of six men,[4] and set out. After he had quitted
the southernmost place at which provisions could be procured, called
Caylin, or ‘El fin de la Christiandad,’ one of his men[5] persuaded
some of the others[6] to eat up the stock of provisions in the boat
as soon as possible, in order that they might be obliged to return
without going far. But Low was too much inured to hardship to be so
easily diverted from his plan; he went on, directly south, even after
his provisions were consumed; obliging them to live for fourteen days
upon shell-fish and sea-weed. After exploring much of the Chonos
Archipelago, sufficiently to facilitate our survey materially, he
returned with his hungry crew to Caylin.
24th. Lieutenant Sulivan set out with the yawl and a whale-boat,
to survey the east side of Chilóe and the islets in the Gulf of
Ancud.[7] With him were Messrs. Darwin, Usborne, Stewart and Kent;
Douglas as a pilot, and ten men. Two days afterwards, the Beagle
sailed, to examine the western coast of Chilóe, and the Chonos
Archipelago.
Dec. 2d. While standing towards distant mountainous land, about the
latitude of 45°, we saw a comparatively low and level island;[8]
considerably detached from those which seemed like Tierra del Fuego,
being a range of irregular mountains and hills, forming apparently a
continuous coast. This level island I have since ascertained to be
that formerly called Nuestra Señora del Socorro, where Narborough
anchored and landed, in 1670. It was selected in 1740, by Anson, as
a rendezvous for his squadron; but no one seemed to know where to
look for it: the Anna Pink having made the land in 45°. 35′, and the
unfortunate Wager in 47°, near Cape Tres Montes. Narborough mentions
seeing ‘an old Indian hut’ on this island; and in a MS. journal,
written by Moraleda[9] (now in my possession) it is said that the
former natives of the Chonos used to make annual excursions to that
as well as other outlying islands. After witnessing the distance to
which savages venture in such frail canoes as those of Tierra del
Fuego, it does not surprise one to find them going fifteen or twenty
miles across an open space of sea in such large canoes as those of
the Chonos Indians, which are indeed boats. Fuegian wigwams have been
found upon Staten Land and upon Noir Island, each of which is as far
from any neighbouring coast as Socorro is from the nearest shore.
While Narborough’s ship was under sail, near Socorro, he went in his
boat to the island which is nearest to it, by him named Narborough
Island.[10] There he landed, and took possession for his Majesty and
his heirs.[11]
3d. Having passed the night quietly at single anchor, near the
north-east point of Socorro, we weighed and continued our route to
and fro along the coast, taking angles, soundings, and observations.
On the 5th, we were near Huafo,[12] which, to our surprise, we
found to be twenty-five miles farther north than the Spanish charts
(following Moraleda) showed its position, yet the longitude was
almost correct. In a small cove, near the south-east point of Huafo,
we anchored, but broke a bower-anchor in doing so; for the cove is
small--an unexpected puff of wind gave us too much way--and dropping
the bower in haste, it fell upon a rock, and broke.[13] Only two days
before another anchor was broken, near Socorro, by the ship pitching
while a short scope of cable was out, and the anchor hooking to a
rock. I found, on landing, that the formation of the island, like
that of Socorro and Narborough Island, is a soft sandstone, which can
be cut with a knife as easily as a cake of chocolate.
These three outlying islands are thickly wooded, rather level,
compared with their neighbours, and not exceeding eight hundred feet
in height. There are few, if any others, like them in the Chonos
Archipelago; almost all the rest, however portions of some may
resemble them, being mountainous, and very like those of Tierra del
Fuego and the west coast of Patagonia, beyond 47° south; therefore I
need only remark, that the vegetation is more luxuriant; that there
is a slight difference in it, consequent probably upon a milder
climate; that some productions, such as canes and potatoes, &c., are
found there which do not grow near the Strait of Magalhaens; and that
in other respects, as to appearance, nature, and climate, the Chonos
Archipelago is like Tierra del Fuego in summer.
We remained a few days in San Pedro harbour; and on the 9th
Mr. Sulivan and his party joined us. Next day Mr. Stokes and I
endeavoured to get to the top of the mountain named Huampelen,
Huamblin, or San Pedro; but after climbing, creeping, struggling, and
tumbling about, among old decayed trees, strongly interwoven canes,
steep, slippery places, and treacherous bog, we failed, and gave up
the attempt. Mr. Darwin, Douglas, and others were with me, but we
were all foiled.
11th. Having despatched Mr. Sulivan, with the same party excepting
Mr. Darwin, we got under weigh, and hastened towards the middle of
the Chonos group, in order to find a port whence Mr. Stokes might set
out to explore northwards, while I should examine the southern half
of the archipelago.
13th. We succeeded in finding a sheltered, and apparently safe
anchorage in a road named by me Vallenar, because it corresponded
in situation to an island so called in an old chart, said to be
of the Chonos, but which bore no resemblance whatever to them.
However, being anxious to remove no “neighbour’s land-mark,” and
retain original names, when they could be ascertained, I kept them
wherever I was able to do so. As to the native names, those given by
Indians, I had not the means of finding them out, for no inhabitants
were seen; but, so far as Moraleda had collected them from his
Indian interpreters, and made them known by his chart,[14] I have
scrupulously followed him.[15]
16th. Mr. Stokes set out, in a whale-boat, to work northwards, as
near the sea-coast as possible, and meet me at a harbour in the
Huaytecas group of islands, now called Port Low. He was accompanied
by Mr. Low, Mr. May,[16] and four men.[17] Moraleda, in his diary
and chart, describes a channel which crosses the Chonos Archipelago,
and is called by the natives ‘Ninualac.’[18] Through this passage
the Chonos Indians used to go once or twice a year to inspect the
small herds of goats, or flocks of sheep which they then had upon
those outlying islands I have already mentioned, namely Huamblin[19]
(Socorro), and Ipun (Narborough); as well as upon others, of which I
believe Lemu, a woody island on the north side of Vallenar Road, was
one. Moraleda himself explored part of the continent, and some of the
islands adjacent to it (between 1786 and 1796), but he saw nothing
of the sea face of the Chonos. What few notices of it existed, prior
to 1834, were obtained from the voyage of Ladrilleros in 1557; from
the Anna Pink in 1741; from Machado in 1769; and from the Santa
Barbara in 1792; which, when compared together, tended to confuse
a hydrographer more than they assisted him. In Spanish charts of
the coast from Cape Tres Montes northward to Taitaohaohuon (a name
long enough to perplex more verbose men than sailors) from which
all others, of that coast, were copied, that portion must have been
originally laid down according to magnetic, instead of true bearing;
and the fragments of knowledge acquired, about the latitude of 46°
S., from the master of the Anna Pink, the pilot Machado, and the
officers of the Santa Barbara frigate, clashed so much that their
result was what we see in the charts hitherto used, a dotted line,
and a few straggling islands, totally unlike the truth, leading one
to expect a comparatively open space, whereas there is a succession
of high and considerable islands, so near one another, that from the
offing they ‘make’ like a solid unbroken coast.
While on this subject I may remind the reader that besides the
expeditions above-mentioned, the missionary voyages described by
Agüeros (Appendix, No. 23), the important undertaking of Sarmiento,
and the disastrous voyage of the Wager, there have been other
visitors to the west coast of Patagonia, part of whose acquired
information, though slight, is upon record.
In 1552, two ships, commanded by Don Francisco de Ulloa, were sent
by Valdivia to gain some knowledge of the Strait of Magalhaens.[20]
The journal of their voyage is not extant. Five years afterwards
(in 1557), Don Garcia Hurtado, Viceroy of Peru, sent two vessels
to examine the southern part of the coast of Chile, as far as the
Strait of Magalhaens. The commander was Juan Ladrilleros, and with
him were two pilots, named Hernan Gallego and Pedro Gallego. A mutiny
took place, and one ship deserted, but with the other Ladrilleros
persevered, passed four months in the Strait at anchor during the
winter, then reconnoitred the eastern entrance, and afterwards
sailed back to Chile, where he at last arrived with only one seaman
and a negro, the rest of his people having perished by exposure
to hardships, by scurvy, or by famine. The principal geographical
information obtained at so high a price, was some slight knowledge of
Chilóe, and the archipelago of islands near it.--(Burney, vol. i. p.
246-9.)
Sarmiento’s expedition in 1579-1580, has already been often quoted in
the first volume of this narrative.
In 1675 Antonio de Vea was sent from Peru in a ship, accompanied by
small barks, as tenders, to reconnoitre the Gulf of Trinidad, and the
western entrance of Magalhaens Strait. De Vea made an examination of
those places, and was convinced, from the poverty of the land, that
no settlement of Europeans could be maintained there. One of the
Spanish barks, with a crew of sixteen men, was wrecked on the small
islands called Evangelists, at the west entrance of the Strait. De
Vea returned to Callao in 1767.--(Burney, iv. 76.)
In 1681, the notorious Sharp anchored in a gulf, surrounded by craggy
mountains, whose tops were covered with snow, in 50°. 40′. south
latitude; where “the difference of the rise and fall of the tide
was seven feet perpendicular.” Sharp named the anchorage Shergall’s
Harbour, the sound he called English Gulf; and the islands adjacent
“Duke of York’s Islands.” The account of this buccaneer’s visit is
sufficiently connected with the object of this volume, to warrant my
inserting it in the Appendix, copied verbatim from that interesting
work, invaluable to seamen and hydrographers, Burney’s History of the
Discoveries in the South Sea.[21]
18th Dec. The Beagle weighed and sailed out of Vallenar Road, after
experiencing the shelter afforded by that anchorage, during a heavy
gale from the south-west and southward.
At day-light on the 20th we were off Cape Tres Montes: having a fine
day and smooth water, we surveyed the coast between that promontory
and San Andres Bay, but it became dark before an anchorage could be
gained. Next morning we anchored in a narrow creek,[22] close by a
singular cone (1,300 feet high), an unfailing land-mark. Finding it
a place difficult to get out of, and not to be recommended, unless
in distress, we did not stay there long, but moved to a cove at the
south-west part of the bay.[23] While under sail for this purpose,
advantage was taken of an interval of moderate weather to run
several miles along the coast northward, and back again. Strong gales
set in afterwards and kept us prisoners several days. This Christmas
was unlike the last: it was a sombre period. The wind blew heavily
(though we did not feel it much, being well sheltered); all looked
dismal around us; our prospects for the future were sadly altered;
and our immediate task was the survey of another Tierra del Fuego,
a place swampy with rain, tormented by storms, without the interest
even of population: for hitherto we had neither found traces,[24] nor
heard the voices of natives.
28th. Directly the weather would admit, we weighed and coasted along
till the sun was getting low, when we ran under shelter from sea
and wind, and anchored in the corner of a bay which I afterwards
concluded must be the bay or port called Stephens, and more properly,
San Estevan. While we were furling sails, some men were seen on a
point of land near the ship, making signals to us in a very earnest
manner. Being dressed as sailors, it was natural for us to conclude
that they were some boat’s crew left there to collect seal-skins. A
boat was sent to them, and directly she touched the land they rushed
into her, without saying a word, as men would if pursued by a dreaded
enemy; and not till they were afloat could they compose themselves
enough to tell their story. They were North American sailors, who had
deserted from the Frances Henrietta (a whaler of New Bedford), in
October 1833. When off Cape Tres Montes, but out of sight of land,
and in the middle of the night, these six men lowered a boat and
left their ship, intending to coast along until they should arrive
at Chilóe. Their first landing was effected on the 18th, but owing
to negligence the boat was so badly stove that they could not repair
her, and all their hopes of effecting a coasting voyage were thus
crushed in the very outset.
Finding it impossible to penetrate far into the country, on account
of its ruggedness, and thick forests, which, though only trifling in
height, were almost impervious, they began a pilgrimage along-shore;
but it was soon evident, to their dismay, that there were so many
arms of the sea to pass round, and it was so difficult to walk,
or rather climb, along the rocky shores, that they must abandon
that idea also, and remain stationary. To this decision they were
perhaps more inclined after the death of one of their number; who,
in trying to cross a chasm between two cliffs, failed in his leap,
fell, and was dashed to pieces. Their permanent abode was then taken
up at the point which shelters Port San Estevan, now called Rescue
Point; where they passed a year in anxious hope. Of course the few
provisions which their boat had carried ashore were soon exhausted,
and for thirteen months they had lived only upon seals’ flesh,
shell-fish, and wild celery: yet those five men, when received on
board the Beagle, were in better condition, as to healthy fleshiness,
colour, and actual health, than any five individuals belonging to
our ship. Few remarks worth noticing had been made by them, as the
only experienced man (whose name was John Lawson) lost his life as
above-mentioned. There was an almost continual succession of rain
and wind for several months after their first landing, except from
the 20th to the 29th of December, which passed without rain: in July
(1834) they had an extraordinary storm from south-west, which began
early one morning, after a rainy night with northerly wind: and in
November (1834) there were twenty-one days successively without rain.
One day (in May) they saw eight vessels sailing northwards together;
excepting which, not a sail was ever seen by their aching eyes till
the Beagle hove in sight. Between San Andres, near which they first
landed, and San Estevan, the hull of a small vessel was found, quite
bedded in sand; she seemed to be about thirty-five tons burthen, from
thirty to thirty-five feet in the keel, and about sixteen broad.
She was full-built; neither coppered nor sheathed. In a cave, which
had been used as a dwelling, near San Andres, the skull of a man
was found, and some burned wood. A bracelet of beads was lying in
the cave, but they noticed nothing else. The skull seemed to them
to have been that of a black man. No animals were seen at any time
except deer and nutria, seal and otter; the former were of a reddish
colour, with short straight horns, and very rough coats: no traces
of other quadrupeds were observed, nor during the whole fourteen
months did they ever meet a native human being. They told me that the
night tides seemed always to be a foot or more higher than those of
the day, which, as they said, rose from four to seven or eight feet
perpendicularly. I had intended to explore the interior of Port San
Estevan; but as they had already done so, and found it terminate in
a fresh water river, or rather mountain stream, I gave up that plan,
and sailed next day.
29th. While examining the coast towards Cape Taytao[25] (I must omit
haohuon), we found a very dangerous patch of rocks,[26] five miles
from the nearest land; there are soundings near them. In the evening
we dropped our anchor under Inchemo Island; an interesting locality,
because there the Anna Pink anchored before she was drifted across
the adjacent bay into Port Refuge (in 1741).
30th. On landing an old wooden hut was discovered in a sheltered
corner, and we found that the island was overrun with goats, which
I suppose to have been left by the Santa Barbara’s crew, if not
by Machado’s people. While Mr. Stokes and I were engaged with the
instruments, and two boats sounding, a couple of guns were sent
against the goats, and in consequence of their effectual employment
in the hands of Mr. Bynoe and H. Fuller, all on board had a good
fresh meal the next two days. After noon we sailed across the
Bay,[27] and found a snug, though very small cove,[28] where we
moored in security, and remained till the 4th of January, exploring
the neighbourhood--an unprofitable wilderness of rocky mountains,
woody and swampy valleys, islands and rocks in profusion, and inlets
or arms of the sea penetrating in every direction.
On the 4th we moved to Port Refuge, a safe, but out of the way place.
In the “narrative of what befel the Anna Pink,” given in Anson’s
Voyage, this harbour is described in very glowing colours; but we
may remember that those who discovered it, were there saved from
destruction; and naturally looked upon all things around them with
excited feelings.[29] How the officers of the Santa Barbara made
their survey of this port and its neighbourhood I am at a loss to
know; a mere eye-sketch, drawn upon the spot, might have been much
better than that which they gave to the world as a mathematical plan.
In their distorted representation of Port Refuge, many soundings have
been scattered, apparently at random, and quite at variance with
truth. This is so unlike most Spanish works of a similar nature,
some of which are very accurate,[30] considering the date of their
manufacture, and the means employed,--that I conclude the officers
of that frigate, not understanding marine surveying, merely drew
rough sketches of what they saw, which were afterwards ‘cooked’
into a more regular ‘appearance,’ by some one who was not on board
with them. Had time allowed I should have explored the Gulf of San
Rafael, at the back of Tres Montes Peninsula,[31] but knowing that it
could only be an object of geographical, not immediately practical
interest to do so, I refrained from indulging mere curiosity, much
as I desired to corroborate the account of Spanish missionaries who
often went there, crossing the Isthmus of Ofqui, in search of Indians
among the Guaianeco islands, and even farther south, of whom they
might make converts to Christianity. Doubtless some of these voyages
were undertaken and completed with benevolent and single-minded
intentions; but I suspect that others were conducted on a different
principle; and that their chief object was to procure able-bodied
slaves to be employed in the mines of Chilóe or Southern Chile. I
should be glad to learn that this suspicion is ill-founded.[32]
On the 7th we anchored in Port Low, and found Mr. Stokes just
arrived, after a fagging cruise among the Chonos islands. His journal
contains a great deal of information, from which I have extracted
those passages most likely to interest the general reader.
His whale-boat was so loaded at starting (16th Dec.) that her gunwale
amidships was but a foot above water. She was twenty-five feet long
and six feet broad, and then carried seven men, besides instruments
and a month’s provisions. Of water she had only two ‘barecas,’
because on that coast fresh water is only too plentiful. In passing a
promontory, the following day, while their boat was still deep, the
swell became so great that Mr. Low said he had never before been in a
boat exposed to greater danger.
In some places where they landed the woods were so thick that Mr.
Stokes was obliged to climb trees to get angles; and not being able
to tell previously which would answer his purpose, sometimes he made
three or four useless ascents, before he could obtain a view: “but,”
he says “there is a pleasure I cannot express in roaming over places
never visited by civilized man.” On Rowlett Island potatoes were
found growing wild; the largest dug up measured two inches in length,
and an inch in thickness: they were quite tasteless.
At the east side of Ipun, on Narborough Island, an excellent small
port was found, which was named Scotchwell Harbour. On the shore,
near it, was a large bed of strawberries, like those that grow in
English woods; and there was a sweet-scented pea, besides abundance
of other vegetable produce, both herbage and wood, and plenty of
water.
“Hitherto, all the islands we had seen were of slate-rock, some
parts so soft, that I could break them easily with my finger, and I
found that they blacked my hand, like plumbago; but Ipun is quite
different in structure, being an earthy sand-stone.”[33]
Syzygial high water at Ipun takes place at noon, and the tide rises
six or eight feet. The flood-tide comes from the southward.
At May Harbour (which may be the Bello Dique of the Santa Barbara),
many cypress trees were noticed, for the first time hereabouts, and
a surprising number of otters. The tide rose seven feet. About the
Huaytecas Islands, the northernmost of the Archipelago, quantities of
excellent oysters were found, quite as good as any sold in London. No
quadrupeds were seen, except nutria and otters, which were numerous.
Their numbers, and the quantity of birds, show that Indians do not
now frequent that quarter; indeed, no traces of them whatever were
found by Mr. Stokes, or any of our party, among the Chonos islands.
10th. While lying at Port Low we caught plenty of fish with the
seine; we obtained oysters from neighbouring creeks, and shot ducks
and geese, so there was no want of fresh provision. Some piraguas
from Chilóe were in the port: the Chilotes in them were in search of
otters, seals, and nutria, and had come across the gulf of Huafo, in
their ill-conditioned vessels, with no little trepidation.
On an outlying islet, near Port Low, I first saw the wild potato.
Next to seeing a wild man, I recollect few objects which struck me
much more than that group of wild potatoes:--but I have neither
inclination nor space here to speak of my own sensations. The
stems, leaves, and flowers of these vegetables were as large,
and appeared to be as healthy, as those in an English garden,
but the potatoes at their roots were small, watery, and insipid.
It ought to be recollected, however, that we saw them early in
January--corresponding to July--many weeks, at least, before one
could expect to find eatable potatoes in an English field.
It was remarked in the Chonos islands, as well as in Tierra
del Fuego, that the trees which grow in thin soil, lying upon
slaty rocks, extend their roots so horizontally that it is not
surprising to find, running through woodland, broad tracts whence
the shallow-rooted trees have been swept away, partly by wind,
partly by the action of mountain-torrents.[34] As wood grows even
at the water’s edge in those countries, where not exposed to the
first attack of wind from seaward, and as there are so many loose
overhanging masses of rock, one cannot be surprised at the vast
quantities of drift-wood found in some places; or think it improbable
for a quadruped to be occasionally precipitated into the sea, with a
falling mass of rocks and trees, and afterwards drifted by wind and
current to some other locality.
From Port Low we saw a notable mountain, one of the Cordillera of
the Andes, having three points upon a small flat top, about eight
thousand feet above the sea. I called it the Trident at that time;
but afterwards learned that there are four peaks (one of which was
hid by another from our point of view), and that it is called by the
aborigines Meli-moyu, which in the Huilli-che language signifies four
points.
Three other remarkable mountains, active volcanoes, are visible
from the northern Huaytecas islands, as well as from Chilóe; I mean
the Corcobado (hump-backed), of which I do not remember the Indian
name; Yanteles (or Yanchiñu, which means ‘having a shivering, and
unnatural heat’), and Minchenmadom, which, in the Huilli-che tongue,
means ‘under a firebrand’; names so expressive and appropriate as
to put to shame much of our own nomenclature. Wherever I have been
able to discover the aboriginal name of a place in South America,
and could ascertain its meaning, I have been struck by the extreme
appositeness, as well as by the copious though condensed allusion
usually conveyed.
In Chilóe and about the north-eastern Chonos Islands, almost all the
aboriginal names are preserved, because there interpreters could be
procured; but, of course, such advantages were generally unattainable
in Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. In Chilóe, as in Araucania, every
corner and every conspicuous spot, whether land or water, has a
particular and expressive name, a word usually compounded of two or
three others: thus, Huapi-quilan means Three Islands; Calbu-co, Blue
Water; Cauca-huapi, Gull Island; Huechu-cucuy, Point Cucuy,[35] or
Grandmother; Carel-mapu (Cara-el-mapu), Bad-city-country; Petu-cura,
middle stone (a rock in Chacao Narrow), &c.
15th. We sailed from Port Low and went to Huafo once more, wishing
to give Mr. Darwin an opportunity of examining it geologically.
There are now no inhabitants on that island, though there are a good
many sheep belonging to Chilotes, who live at Caylin. Formerly there
were Indians called Huyhuen-che,[36] upon Huafo; but the Spaniards
obliged them to quit it, for fear they should give information or
supplies to English ships. Near the Beagle, when at anchor, there was
a square place, like an entrance to some cave, seemingly cut by man
in the soft sand-stone rock; and I have since often reproached myself
for having left the place without ascertaining its real nature. It
may be the entrance to some cave, formerly used as a burying-place,
similar to those explored by Low, and by the surgeon of the Wager.
On the 17th we sailed, and next day anchored off Point Arena, in San
Carlos Harbour. Lieutenant Sulivan, with his party, had arrived a few
days previously, after a very satisfactory cruise. We found his boats
hauled up and refitted, his people lodged under their tents, and
himself with Mr. Usborne busily occupied in my little observatory,
laying down the work for which they had collected materials. Thus we
were again assembled in safety, after being considerably divided,
and, in consequence, exposed to numerous dangers which human prudence
can neither foresee nor prevent. As some soundings were still wanted
near the English bank, and about the approach to San Carlos, we
employed the 19th in taking them, on board the Beagle, accompanied by
her boats, and returned to our usual anchorage, close to Point Arena,
at dark.
When sounding on the English bank, we repeatedly tried to ascertain
its nature by forcing a very long iron lance downwards as far as
possible. The instrument penetrated about two feet into sand in all
instances but one, when it was stopped abruptly by a substance which
bent the lance and turned its point. It did not, however, feel like
rock, rather, I should say, like hard wood.[37] This hard place was
about a square yard in extent, and all around was sand.
In the night, or rather from two to three the following morning,
Osorno was observed in eruption, throwing up brilliant jets of flame
or ignited matter, high into the darkness, while lava flowed down
its steep sides in torrents, which from our distance (seventy-three
miles) looked merely like red lines. Daybreak diminished the effect,
and as the light increased only a dark column of smoke could be
discerned. This mountain is one of the most striking in form which I
ever saw. It is not only quite conical from the base to the summit,
but it is so sharply pointed that its appearance is very artificial.
When seen from the sea, at a distance of ninety or a hundred miles,
the whole of the cone, 6,000 feet in height[38] at least, and covered
with snow, stands out in the boldest relief from among ranges of
inferior mountains. The apex of this cone being very acute, and the
cone itself regularly formed, it bears a resemblance to a gigantic
glass-house; which similitude is increased not a little by the column
of smoke so frequently seen ascending.
We remained till the 4th of February in the port of San Carlos. Mr.
Darwin profited by the opportunity afforded to make an excursion into
the interior of the island, while the surveying party were occupied
in arranging data, in laying down chart-work, and in taking and
calculating observations. I paid Douglas for his services and for
a variety of information collected for me, from which--from Lieut.
Sulivan’s journal--and from my own notes--I shall now add such few
notices of Chilóe as I think may be interesting, and which have not
been already introduced in the first volume, (pp. 269-301.)
Various accounts have been given of the characters and dispositions
of the Chilotes. Some have said that they are a noble, industrious,
and docile race; others that they are dishonest, idle, and
ill-disposed: to reconcile these contradictory accounts is,
therefore, at first sight, rather perplexing. There are four distinct
classes of inhabitants in Chilóe and the adjacent islands;[39] the
aboriginal Huyhuen-che, or Chonos; the Huilli-che, who came from
southern Chile; the foreigners, those neither born in Chilóe nor
descended from Chilotes; and the Creoles. Of these the Chonos are now
nearly lost: in consequence of disease and emigration they have by
degrees abandoned not only Chilóe but the adjacent Chonos islands,
and are only found southward. Some Indians to the south-west of
Castro, in the interior of the island near the lake Cucao, are under
the nominal jurisdiction of their own caciques: whether they are
Chonos or Huilli-che, I did not ascertain clearly. Being a race who
are naturally little inclined to cultivate the soil, and preferring a
comparatively idle life among muscles, seal, and fish, to voluntary
labour on their own account, with a considerable degree of compulsory
toil for the Spanish Government and priests, they quitted Chilóe in
successive families. From them, probably, are derived the glimmerings
of religion, and the crosses among the Indians of Madre de Dios, and
other parts of the west coast of Patagonia. That their canoes or
rather piraguas, should be similar to those of Chilóe seems natural
enough; but the fact is that the Chonos people taught the Huilli-che
how to make them.[40] Coming from an inland district near Valdivia,
the Huilli-che had never required boats, though they knew how to
cultivate potatoes, maize, and beans; how to make ‘ponchos,’ and
take care of sheep and cattle. These, though more industrious, and
in some respects better members of society, are a tame and docile
race compared with the Chonos, whose spirit of independence has shown
itself in their migration, and impatience of mis-government.
The principal population of Chilóe is now Huilli-che, nominally
Christian but painfully ignorant of pure Christianity. Abandoned
to the crooked direction of ungodly pastors, intent upon their own
worldly interest instead of the welfare of their flock, extorting
‘primicias’[41] and tithes from poor Indians, whom they scarcely
see once in a year (I speak advisedly)--and taught only the Romish
doctrine in its worst form; can any one expect the poor Chilotes
to be really religious and consequently moral? That they should be
extremely superstitious is much more probable, and such is the fact.
Their’s is a confused demi-religion, in which a medley of ideas
concerning the Virgin Mary, saints, images, and witches,[42] is
found far more often than any clear reference to our Saviour or the
Almighty.
In the foregoing remarks on the Roman Catholic priests at Chilóe whom
I conversed with and heard much about between 1829 and 1835, I do not
include all. There was certainly one man (I hope there were more)
whom I believe to have been as sincerely pious, and therefore good,
as any Roman Catholic, but there were others whose lives scandalized
even their nominal Christianity.
The foreigners settled in Chilóe of course resemble their own
countrymen as to morals and habits, not being likely to take example
from the Indians: and the Creoles adopt their ideas as hastily as our
milliners adopt French fashions. But there is a virtue in Chilóe,
which if sins could be atoned for by the good works of man alone,
would go far towards purchasing good treatment and very slight
purgatory for the souls of Chilotes: I mean the warm-hearted kindness
shewn to one another, and particularly to strangers. Conspicuous as
such a feeling of hospitality and disinterested good-nature is among
the descendants of Spaniards in South America, it is no where more to
be observed than in Chilóe.
Increased intercourse with other countries is annually diminishing
the local peculiarities of Chilote society, a remarkable one being
that of transacting mercantile business by barter, for want of
current coin. Planks of alerse, indigo, tobacco, pepper, salt, &c.
were substitutes for silver and gold in 1829, excepting among a very
few foreigners or comparatively rich descendants of Spaniards and
Creoles. At that time it was extremely difficult to get a few dollars
in exchange for a bill upon good security at Valparaiso, even at the
exorbitant price of sixty-pence English for each dollar. In 1834, so
much had the state of trade improved at San Carlos, that there was no
difficulty in obtaining as many dollars as we wanted for forty-eight
pence each.
In the first volume most of the products of Chilóe are mentioned,
except fish and coal. Of the shell-fish there is a full account, but
I may here add that smelt, mullet, a kind of bass, and other fish
are plentiful during the summer months. The natives often catch many
more than they want by placing very simple weirs across creeks at
high-water, with a passage in the middle, which is shut when the tide
begins to ebb. Some of these weirs are rough stone walls (on a small
scale), others are wattled like hurdles. The number of fish kept
back by them and left dry, as the water falls, is really surprising.
Seals are now rare, and whales are fast diminishing in numbers. There
is a good deal of coal in Chilóe, but I am told that it is of an
inferior description, like that of Concepcion. Geologists say it is
not true coal: lignite would be a more appropriate term. Be this as
it may I tried some of it[43] in my cabin stove, and found it burn
readily, though what I had was a lump taken from the surface of the
ground. The Chilotes scarcely noticed it then, having so much wood
around them, but a day may arrive in which its value may be better
appreciated.
Next to San Carlos,[44] in size and population, is Castro, the former
seat of Government, which has dwindled to a mere village. Chacao,
where the governor afterwards resided, is only a hamlet. Remains
of a town, such as lines of streets and the ruins of a church, are
visible, but there are now only a few straggling cottages and a
ruinous chapel. It is said, on the spot, that the former church of
Chacao was burned by the old Spaniards, to oblige the natives to quit
the place and go to San Carlos. Castro, formerly styled a city, now
consists of two or three short streets of bad wooden houses and two
churches: one of which was built by the Jesuits more than a hundred
years ago, and is fast decaying though ‘shored up’ (supported by
props) on all sides.
The first discovery of Chilóe was made by Spaniards in 1558, one of
whom was Ercilla. Enthusiastic in every thing, the warrior-poet tells
us that he ran to a tree, half-a-mile south of the place where his
companions halted, and cut some lines on the bark.[45]
The populous state of Chilóe, in 1558, when first visited by
Europeans may be estimated by Ercilla’s description, allowing for
poetical license. All accounts agree in stating that the Chonos
Indians, or Huyhuen-che, were once very numerous.
“Era un ancho archipielago poblado
De innumerables islas deleytosas,
Cruzando por el uno y otro lado
Góndolas y piraguas presurosas:
* * * * *
Llegó una corva gondola ligera
De doce largos remos impelida.”
LA ARAUCANA, Cantos xxxv and xxxvi.
That the Spaniards then with Ercilla, were thought to be deities, is
shown by the following lines:--
“Hombres, o Dioses rústicos, nacidos
En estos sacros bosques y montañas,
Por celeste influencia producidos,” &c.
IDEM, Canto xxxvi.
Some years afterwards (in 1566) Castro was founded, to be the
capital, and Chacao for a sea-port. From this time till about 1633
mines were worked in Chilóe, but then discontinued, partly because
they were less productive than those of Chile, and partly on account
of the difficulty of obtaining labourers after a raging epidemic had
carried off one-third of the aboriginal inhabitants; and fear of
infection as well as horror of the mining slavery, had driven away
a large portion of the residue.[46] About this time the Huilli-che
were carried to Chilóe, in addition to those who had accompanied
the fugitives from Osorno (in 1599-1604) to Calbuco, Carel-mapu, and
thence to Chilóe; who being a docile patient race, accustomed to
agriculture, increased rapidly and supplanted the Chonos emigrants.
We read in the narrative of Brouwer’s voyage (1643) that the port
which the Dutch called Brouwer’s Haven, was by some called Chilova,
and by others English Haven: and in 1624, according to Agüeros
(quoting D. Cosme Bueno), Englishmen were on this coast: but I
think it more probable that the Bank Ingles and Port Ingles, near
San Carlos, obtained those names from William Adams, in 1599,[47]
rather than from them. In the Dutch chart published with the journal,
this island is called Chiloue, and the adjacent gulf, Ankaos, or
Ancoed.[48] Brouwer alarmed the inhabitants of Chilóe not a little,
but they were even more frightened and harassed before that time by
Cordes, in 1600; Spilbergen, in 1615; and afterwards by Shelvocke, in
1719; besides others.
To guard against, or rather watch for such visitors, as well as to
obtain the earliest intelligence of an enemy being on the coast, the
Spaniards established look-out stations in commanding positions
and outer points, such as Cocotue heights, Guabun Head, and Point
Centinela; but at the present time no such precautions being thought
necessary, there is a supine indifference to molestation.
Wherever Mr. Sulivan went with our boats, nearly all the Indians
showed an anxiety for the island to be again under the dominion
of Old Spain, and asserted that they were much happier and more
prosperous before the revolution than they had ever been since. In
a place where he passed two days (Huildad) there was an unusual
difficulty in obtaining provisions, and it was accounted for by the
natives in the following manner: the proprietor of the tithes had
just been there, and had taken from them, in sheep and pigs, the full
tenth, not only of those animals, but of the growing crops of corn,
apples, and potatoes. He had taken away all that the poor people
could be deprived of, excepting only what was absolutely necessary as
stock for next year’s supply.
Lieut. Sulivan says, in his journal:--“Besides the tithes, they have
also to give ‘first fruits’ to the priests, and so hard are they on
their parishioners, with respect to tithes and first fruits, that
whether the yearly produce be bad or good, the same quantity must be
contributed to swell the revenue of a person whom they seldom see,
except at the times of collection.”
This oppression, however, is not allowed by the superiors of the
Church, when it is duly represented and proved: for not long ago
a curate was dismissed from his parish in Chilóe, because he was
a severe extortioner: I was informed that during five years that
man had amassed more than thirty thousand dollars.[49] Some of the
natives complained bitterly to Lieut. Sulivan of the task-work they
were compelled to perform.
At Lemuy he met a small piragua with only three men in it, who were
on their way from Castro to Quelan. They had walked across the
island from San Carlos where they had been working at the new mole,
which all the ‘militia’[50] were obliged to do in turn, each man
a fortnight: part of which time was allowed for the journey. These
three had worked eight days, finding themselves in everything and
receiving no pay; two were old men: one more than sixty years of
age; and the third was the oldest man’s son. They all declaimed
against the so-called ‘Patriots’ (Chilians) very vehemently, and
asked repeatedly when they might hope to see the Spanish flag
hoisted again. The old man had been a cacique, and under the Spanish
authority had charge of a watch-house and a small party of men, on
Point Centinela: but directly the Spaniards were overthrown he was
made a private militia-man--“not to fight,” he said, “but to work.”
If any public work was in progress, a party of militia-men were
ordered to it, in their respective turns: and if the commandant had a
friend to oblige, who wanted a job done, he would order a man to work
at it for a week, when another would take his place, and so on. For
these services no pay was given. The old man said that they were paid
in money for every service performed when under the Spaniards; and he
could hardly be made to believe that there was no prospect of their
returning.
There is a marked difference of climate between the east and west
sides of Chilóe, as to quantity of rain and wind. A proportion of
both appears to be arrested (as it were) on the windward side of the
heights, so that the neighbourhood of Castro and the islands in the
Gulf of Ancud, enjoy much finer weather than is met with about San
Carlos. But even there the inhabitants say a change has taken place
gradually, and that they have not now nearly so much rain as used to
fall formerly. They attribute this to the wood being cleared away,
not only on Chilóe itself, but on the neighbouring Cordillera. There
is an idea prevalent in Chilóe that, after a great eruption of Osorno
in particular, or indeed of any of the neighbouring volcanoes, fine
weather is sure to follow. Without denying the possibility of some
such correspondence, I should incline to think that there have been
accidental coincidences; and that fine weather occurring about or
soon after those times, has been more remarked than at other periods.
On the little uninhabited island, Chiut, in the middle of Ancud Gulf,
Mr. Sulivan found a great number of wild strawberries: they were
not very good, being unripe. Near the islands beyond Chiut (called
Desertas), on the shore of the mainland, he saw several piraguas
stranded, evidently during a late gale, as their crews were engaged
in repairing them on the beach.
In the island Alau, Lieut. Sulivan met an old native, about 112
years of age; who had great-grandchildren about him, from twelve to
fourteen years old. His eyesight and intellectual faculties were
still good, and he walked firmly. From the inhabitants of Alau, Mr.
Sulivan heard that an English armed brig, accompanied by a Spanish
vessel of war, had anchored at that island about seventy years before
1835 (1765). Our boats visited Calbuco, and happening to arrive
during the time of Mass, found nobody stirring. At last one man
came out of church--ran back instantly--as if to tell the news, and
immediately hundreds came pouring out to see the strangers.
Calbuco, called also El Fuerte, is much superior to Castro in
appearance as well as size. It ranks next to San Carlos, in
consequence to the Chilotes. Near here it was that friendly Indians
helping the distressed inhabitants of Osorno to escape from the
Araucanians (1599-1605), raised a cry of Calbu-co (blue water), when,
emerging from the woodland, they caught a glimpse of the sea.
Our party examined places on the east coast of Chilóe, where docks
might be constructed, or vessels laid ashore with much facility,
as the tide rises from fifteen to twenty-five feet in several
land-locked coves where the swell of the ocean never penetrates.
Round Chilóe the flood tide-streams run both ways, from the
south-west; and meet in the north-west part of Ancud Gulf; the times
of syzygial high water, in all the archipelago, vary only from noon
to an hour and half after noon. In December and January our boat
expedition found that the night tides were always higher than those
of the day, and the inhabitants said that was always the case in
summer. In the months of July and August 1829 the day tides were
higher than the night, I am quite certain; and an old Biscayan,
resident near point Arena, told me that they were always so in
winter: hence we may conclude they are regularly higher at that time
of year.
I refrain from entering here into many very interesting customs of
the Huilli-che, because they are almost the same as those of the
Araucanian Indians, about whom so much has been sung or said by
Ercilla, Molina, and others, because my pages are limited, there
being still information of a newer character to be written; but I
would ask the reader, who may feel interested about the migrations
of our race, to compare such customs with those of the Polynesian
islanders, especially that of the ‘Minga,’ and making ‘Cava.’[51]
The superstitious ideas, arising out of a debased Romish doctrine,
have not deprived the Huilli-che of their belief in witchcraft, a
belief held in common with all ignorant nations. Mr. Douglas, in
his MS. Journal, says:--“No Chilote doubts the existence of wizards
(bruxos). When I was a magistrate, a complaint was made to me of a
young woman who, they asserted, had tried to bewitch a young man. The
witnesses stated that she had bought from a professed witch (bruxa)
a charm (llapui), which was produced in evidence. It consisted
of a piece of loadstone, with iron filings adhering to it; some
fish-scales; some hair and soap suds, proved to have been on the
young man’s face, and sold by the barber; some parings of his nails;
a small dead lizard; some slips of a peculiar tree; and many other
ingredients. With this charm, with two prepared apples, and a bottle
half full of a liquid mixed by the witch, she proposed to win the
young man’s affections to such a degree that he would give her all
his property. The liquid appeared to be a decoction of the deadly
nightshade, and some poisonous ferns. The witnesses stated also, that
this witch had a lantern made of the skin of a still-born child,
which she lighted with a candle that burned with a blue flame; and
gave out sparks, when the witch flew through the air from place to
place.
“I have been informed,” continues Mr. Douglas, “upon indisputable
authority, that such lanterns do exist; and that when two or more
witches wish to communicate by signal, one of them ties a lantern
to a long pole, and throws it up and down very quickly, making the
sparks fly. The other then makes similar use of her lantern, at
a considerable distance, and those who casually see the lights,
think that a witch has flown from one place to the other. The
magical art of the wizard is often exercised in a search for hidden
treasure. There are some places where, in a dark night, inflammable
gas, or phosphoric light, is seen, near the ground, not like a
Will-o’-th’-wisp of Europe, but a clear steady light, of a white,
yellow, or red colour. Popular superstition ascribes these lights to
the ghosts of departed misers, watching their hidden treasure; and
when one is discovered by any person, he calls a friend to assist
him and watch it, about the time of new moon, until they ascertain
the spot whence it proceeds; and there they dig in search of an
anticipated heap of gold or silver. Not succeeding (of course), they
apply to a wizard, who pretends to discover where the treasure lies,
and what it is, by looking earnestly into a smooth slab of black
stone (which I suppose to be basalt). The wizard may not himself find
the prize, nor may he be present at the search; but, after telling
the people where and when to dig, he takes good care to alarm and
frighten them away in some strange manner, just at the moment they
expect to grasp the store of gold. Among other devices, the wizard,
or witch, pretends to cover a worsted thread with quicksilver, and
holding it over the supposed place, allows the quicksilver to run
off into the ground, and then he desires them to dig till they
find the quicksilver, thus affording time for creating some sudden
alarm, which they attribute to the ‘devoto,’ or familiar spirit of
the deceased. It is believed by some that I am able to discover
hidden treasure, and for my amusement I have more than once made an
experiment before them, by sticking up two stakes in a line towards
the light; then going a quarter of a circle round it, I stuck up
two more stakes, also in a line towards it; and next day followed
the lines to their crossing, at which spot I dug, and about two feet
underground found a decayed tree.” (Whence a gaseous exhalation?)
Mr. Douglas’s account of the life of an industrious Calbucano[52] is
interesting. He says, that those who are called ‘hombres de bien’
(honest men) are generally the sons of worthy parents, and who marry,
while young, some hard-working sober woman. Such a pair, as one of
these men and his wife, sow some corn and plant potatoes, then leave
the land, with their house, in the care of an old relation, and go to
the Cordillera to work in an astillero.[53] If their luck is good,
that is, if they find plenty of fine, straight grained trees, not
farther than usual from the sea,[54] this pair will cut and bring
down five hundred boards in a month; then returning home they clean
the potato grounds, and attend to domestic affairs, until their feet
heal, and a paralytic motion of the legs, acquired in the astillero,
has ceased. When quite refreshed they go for another cargo, and work
till their legs and feet can stand it no longer. A third trip is
afterwards made by the husband, for about a fortnight, to a nearer
astillero, where he cuts pieces of timber and plank of as large a
size as he can carry (tablones y cuartones), then returns to collect
his harvest, make chicha, and sow corn for next year. The winter
months are passed in comparative inactivity, but not without due
consumption of cider and potatoes. Occasionally the Calbucano goes to
San Carlos, to sell, or rather barter his boards for indigo, tobacco,
red pepper, clothes, axes, spirits, &c.; and on these occasions, as
well as when they go from Calbuco to the continent, several unite
together to man a piragua, in the manner described by Captain King,
vol. i, p. 285-6.
Directly his children are able to walk a few miles, he takes them
with him to the astillero; begins by giving them two half-boards to
carry, and as they grow stronger, increases their load. At about
sixteen they borrow an axe, and make the boards they afterwards
carry. The alerse forests are like mines to the Calbucano; and
nothing but old age or accident can check him from making boards
after he has had one season of good luck. The profitable parts of the
forests are now, of course, much farther from the sea than they were,
owing to constant thinning. To get a load of twenty boards twice as
much labour is therefore required as was necessary for a similar
purpose thirty years ago. The largest alerse tree that has been found
by any Calbucano during the last forty years, measured thirty feet in
girth, at five feet from the ground; and more than seventy-six feet
to the first branches. This famous tree gave eight lengths of boards
and half a length. The two largest trees seen by Mr. Douglas, in his
excursion for me, measured one twenty-four, and the other twenty-two
feet round, at five feet from the ground: but these were dead trees,
hollow in the centre. He saw none above ten feet in circumference,
that were quite sound. Report, however, says, that in the Cordillera,
out of reach of the Calbuco woodsmen, there are enormous trees, from
thirty to forty feet in girth, and from eighty to ninety feet in
height to the first branches, above which the heads of those giant
trees are said to rise some forty or fifty feet. The alerse has
short, stout branches, with leaves like those of a pine, in their
bluish green colour, but shorter, being only half an inch long, and
one-twentieth of an inch wide: on one stem there are four rows of
these small leaves, at opposite sides.
Captain King has fully described the alerse (vol. i, p. 282-3), and
the manner of making the boards. I will add a few notices of the way
in which it is obtained.
In carrying his load along many miles of bad road from an
‘astillero,’ to the nearest water conveyance, the Calbucano wears
a sheep-skin on his shoulders, under a woollen shirt, and taking a
stick, with its lower end forked,[55] he trudges along with the load
on one shoulder, and on the other the stick, which partly supports
the weight till one shoulder is tired; he then shifts the burthen to
the other, and goes on. This half rest is called ‘cantuntun.’ After
eight, ten, or twelve of these, according to his strength, and the
road, he casts down the load, and rests about ten minutes. This is
his ‘descanso;’ and he makes about one such every two or three miles.
The astillero of Melipulli is ten ‘descansos,’ a whole day’s journey,
from the place of embarkation. In examining the different forests
of alerse, Mr. Douglas saw some immense land-slips (quechi), one of
which was said to have brought down one thousand alerses, some of
them being five fathoms round near the roots. This land-slip measured
seven hundred yards in length and three hundred yards in width.
Mr. Douglas finds much fault with the manner in which the Chilotes
associate for a voyage, or any joint undertaking. He says, “their
voyages being planned like a commonwealth, it follows that their
government on board must be republican, and the consequence is
that every thing is decided by most votes and most noise.” He also
complains of their extreme selfishness, and of their reluctance
to do any thing, however trifling, for a neighbour, unless for a
consideration; another evil consequence of democratic inclinations.
When Moraleda was about Chilóe he went across the cordillera to
the lake Nahuelhuapi, in quest of information relative to the
‘Cesares;’ but he could hear nothing positive about any such city
or people, from the Indians whom he met near that lake--well known
to the Spaniards as a jesuit missionary station. Mr. Douglas’s
father-in-law[56] once commanded a party sent from Chilóe to look
for this reported city of ‘Cesares.’[57] He got over and beyond the
Cordillera to an elevated plain, where he saw a very large number
of Indian huts (toldos), placed so as to form regular streets. Near
them were large droves of horses and cattle, and small patches of
cultivated ground: but he had no time to make further remarks, for
his party was discovered, vigorously attacked and driven back, with
loss, to the sea. The old man said the climate and soil of that plain
were better than those of Chilóe: and, as a proof of it, he found
Indian corn with from five to nine large heads, though in Chilóe the
same kind of plant only bears from one to three small heads.
A few of the remarks relative to Chilóe, contained in the preceding
pages, arose out of an excursion made by me, in 1829, among the
neighbouring islands: and many of the other notices mentioned by
Captain King (vol. i.) or myself, and given in the narrative as they
were received from our associates, were corroborated by what I then
witnessed. The excursion alluded to was undertaken in consequence
of two carpenters belonging to the Beagle being enticed to desert
by a Roman Catholic priest named Forastes, who not only afforded
them the means of travelling to Castro and Lemuy, but hid them on
his own premises afterwards; and, when he heard that I was seeking
for them among the islands, sent them across the gulf of Ancud, in
a piragua, to remain in a cove near the Corcovado until the search
should be over. One of these men was not worth taking trouble about;
but the other was a man who had borne a high character, and had a
wife and children in England depending upon him for support. I was
satisfied that this man (Wells) had not deserted until overcome by
extraordinary temptation and the evil advice of his companion, and
determined to do my utmost to recover him. He had pay due for several
years’ service, and his ‘servitude time’[58] was considerable.
I despatched Mr. Kirke overland to Castro for intelligence; and set
out in a light whale-boat, with five men, all as eager as I was
myself to rescue their shipmate from the deceitful allurements of
Padre Forastes. As a carpenter, also, every one was well aware, that
his recovery was of much consequence to our small vessel, in a place
where we could not obtain a substitute.
While visiting various islands I was much struck by the good order
and cheerful alertness of several schools of boys, and by the
apparent respectability of their teachers: and I was informed that
these schools were much fostered by General Aldunate and his worthy
secretary, Forelius (a Swede).
Nothing could be more pleasing than the appearance of the islands;
all highly cultivated, and thickly peopled by a quiet race of men,
apparently industrious, certainly most obliging and hospitable.
At Lemuy I heard that the fugitives had just left Chelin and Quehuy,
in a piragua belonging to one Antonio Vargas, and were gone to the
Cordillera, somewhere near the Corcovado, to kill seals and collect
oil for him and Padre Forastes, until we should leave Chilóe, when
they would return and work for the priest. This information cost me
an ounce of gold, given to Vargas’s own brother: and for six dollars,
in advance, with a promise of more, I engaged a guide (vaqueano)
to go with me to the main land. This man had no idea of moving by
night; but, understanding clearly that the piragua was gone to an
inlet under the Corcovado Mountain, I sailed at once across the gulf,
steering by the light of the volcano, much to the terror of our
vaqueano, who shrunk down to the bottom of the boat, drew his poncho
over his head, and kept muttering prayers, sometimes to the Virgin
and his ‘devoto’ (patron saint), sometimes to ‘bruxos;’ but never
ventured to look up at the large sail, or watch the boat reeling
through the waves, as she sailed across with a fresh westerly wind.
After a variety of petty difficulties and disappointments, and
searching every inlet within twenty miles of the Corcovado, without
finding a trace of the fugitives, I at last abandoned the pursuit and
returned to San Carlos; having relanded our unhappy vaqueano, who,
while close to the land, had been useful; but whom we had ruined,
he often asserted, by obliging him to promise away all his property
in masses, in offerings to saints, and in presents to ‘bruxos’ for
his safe deliverance from such continual peril. After hearing such
a melancholy statement of his prospects, I added a present to his
earnings, which he assured me would amply satisfy both ‘bruxos’ and
‘devotos,’ and left him, notwithstanding his temporary fears, a happy
man.
In 1834 I learned that we had actually been within a boat’s length of
the deserters on one occasion, and that they had made up their minds
to yield unconditionally. They were hidden in some thick bushes on
the borders of an inlet[59] under the Corcovado, and their piragua
was hauled up behind a rock, out of immediate observation.
It is now high time to quit Chilóe, and proceed along the coast
northward: but before I do so, let me take advantage of this
opportunity to express the gratitude of those with me, as well as of
myself, for a succession of private assistance and sincere kindness
experienced from many persons at San Carlos, whose names I refrain
from mentioning, because I have a great dislike even to the idea of
publishing any thing that occurs in the unreserved intercourse of
friends.
* * * * *
Extraordinary meteoric appearances have occasionally been noticed
about Chilóe, and the islands southward of it. In describing
the Carel-mapu earthquake, of 1633, Agüeros says that torrents
of rain followed; and that on a high hill near the town was
seen a globe of fire, which rose for a short interval, and then
fell into the sea: the waters of which were in consequence much
disturbed. A violent tempest ensued, with hail larger than
musket-balls.
Another remarkable earthquake happened thereabouts on the
23d-24th of December, 1737: and on the 30th, in the early part
of the evening, a great exhalation or cloud of fire was seen
passing, from north to south, over all the archipelago. It fell
on the Huayteca islands, covered them with ashes, and burned up
the vegetation to such a degree that it was only in 1750, that
the islands began again to look green.--Agüeros, pp. 102, 104,
105.
In Sarmiento’s voyage an appearance of a similar nature is
mentioned, as having been seen near the Strait of Magalhaens:
(Viage al Estrecho de Magallanes, p. 205).--Other authorities
might be quoted.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Adventure had four chronometers.
[2] Not far from Cape Noir, on Noir Island.
[3] Though her sale was very ill-managed, partly owing to my being
dispirited and careless, she brought 7,500 dollars, nearly £1,400,
and is now (1838) trading on that coast, in sound condition.
[4] A Welshman, two Chilotes, a Chilian, and two Sandwich Islanders
who had been left at San Carlos by a whaler.
[5] The Chilian.
[6] The Chilotes and Sandwich Islanders. Taffy remained faithful:
he and Low, being able-bodied active men, frightened the rest into
reluctant submission.
[7] Orders in Appendix, No. 21.
[8] About three or four hundred feet in height, excepting one hill,
which is seven hundred feet.
[9] MS. Diary of Moraleda’s examination of Chilóe and part of the
Chonos Islands in 1787-93, given to me at Lima, by a friend to whom I
am much indebted for valuable information.
[10] “Neither the chart in Ulloa, nor any of the Spanish charts
lately in use, show the name of N.S. del Socorro to any island near
the coast hereabouts. The Spanish Atlas of 1798, places an island
very near the coast, in 44° 50′ S. latitude, which in shape and
situation answers nearly to Narborough’s description of the island,
to which he gave his own name.”--(Burney, vol. iii. p. 360. Note.)
[11] “I saw no kind of mineral in it. Not finding this island
noted in any draught (chart), I called it after my own name,
Narbrough Island, and took possession of it for his Majesty and his
heirs.”--(Narborough’s Voyage to Patagonia and Chile, in 1669-1671.)
[12] Called by Narborough “No-man’s Island.”
[13] Or between two rocks, so that the first sudden strain snapped
the shank.
[14] Now in my possession.
[15] His Huamblin and Ipun I take to be Socorro and Narborough
Islands, but am not certain.
[16] Having very little occupation on board, in his own particular
line, just at that time, Mr. May volunteered to take an oar, as one
of the boat’s crew.
[17] Orders in Appendix, No. 22.
[18] “Gran Canal de Ninualac, que atraviese el Archipiélago, por el
informe del practico Hueñupal que casi anualmente la transita con el
motivo expresado en el Diario.”--(Moraleda’s MS. Chart, 1795.)
[19] Huamblin, if, as I suppose it, a corruption of Huampelen, means
‘on watch,’ ‘posted as a sentinel:’ Ipun means ‘swept off,’ or ‘swept
away:’ Lemu means ‘wood:’ names singularly applicable to each of
those islands respectively.
[20] Pastene, a Genoese, was, I believe, in this expedition. His MS.
Journal is said to exist in the archives of Barcelona.
[21] In this extract from Burney (Appendix No. 23), there is a
criticism upon a hydrographical error, made by some copyist, which
is interesting to me from its correspondence with what I suspect to
have taken place in the old charts of Nassau Bay and Cape Horn.--(See
pages 122, 123.)
[22] Cone Creek.
[23] Christmas Cove.
[24] With one exception. On a height near Cone Creek Mr. Darwin
found, in a sheltered hollow of the rock, strewed with dry grass,
what appeared to him the place on which a man had slept. For some
time this puzzled us considerably: probably a sealer had slept there.
[25] Cape Taytao is a high bold promontory.
[26] Hellyer Rocks.
[27] Now called Anna Pink Bay.
[28] Patch Cove.
[29] Anson’s Voyage, chapter iii.
[30] Exclusive of mistakes made by compilers or translators.
[31] Appendix, No. 24.
[32] It is difficult to account for the present abandoned state of
these regions, if no harsh usage was experienced by their former
natives.
[33] Stokes, MS.
[34] The writer of Anson’s voyage, speaking of Juan Fernandez,
exactly describes the loose state of trees in such places, when he
says, “The northern part of this island is composed of high, craggy
hills, many of them inaccessible, though generally covered with
trees. The soil of this part is loose and shallow, so that very
large trees on the hills soon perish for want of root, and are then
easily overturned, which occasioned the death of one of our sailors;
who being upon the hills, in search of goats, caught hold of a tree
upon a declivity, to assist him in his ascent, and this giving way,
he immediately rolled down the hill; and though in his fall he
fastened on another tree of considerable bulk, yet that, too, gave
way, and he fell among the rocks, and was dashed to pieces. Mr. Brett
likewise met with an accident, only by resting his back against a
tree, near as large about as himself, which stood on a slope; for the
tree giving way, he fell to a considerable distance, though without
receiving any injury.”--(Anson’s Voyage, 8vo. edit., p. 159.)
[35] Cucuy is the name of a bird, much noticed by the aborigines
because its motions are supposed to be ominous: it also means
grandmother.
[36] The Huyhuen-che, often called Huyhuenes, were a tribe of Chonos
Indians, adjoining the Pichi-huilli-che, who lived in the northern
portion of Chilóe. The word Huyhuen signifies ‘whistle,’ or ‘hiss,’
or ‘to whistle, or hiss.’
[37] Mr. Sulivan had the lance in his hand at that time.
[38] The volcano of Osorno, or Purraraque, or Hueñauca, is 7,550 feet
above the sea level.
[39] The smaller islands of the Archipelago of Chilóe, those in the
gulf between Chilóe and the mainland, called the Gulf of Ancoed or
Ancud.
[40] These piraguas are extremely like the Madras surf-boats. (See
vol. i. p. 285, for a description of the piragua.)
[41] First fruits of everything, animal as well as vegetable.
[42] They are implicit believers in witchcraft.
[43] Obtained for me by Mr. Robert Williams from the neighbourhood of
San Carlos.
[44] Described in vol. i. p. 274-5.
[45]
“Aquí llegó, donde otro no ha llegado,
Don Alonso de Ercilla, que el primero
En un pequeño barco deslastrado
Con solos diez, pasó el desaguadero
El año de cincuenta y ocho entrado
Sobre mil y quinientos por Hebrero,
A las dos de la tarde el postrer dia,
Volviendo á la dexada compañia.”
LA ARAUCANA, Canto xxxvi.
[46] These were Huyhuenes, or Chonos, whose place was afterwards
supplied by Huilli-che from southern Chile.
[47] Voyage of Five Ships of Rotterdam, Burney, vol. ii. p. 193.
(supposing 46° should be 42° S.)
[48] I mention this to show that the accent, or stress, was then
upon the second syllable of that name, not upon the third. The name
Chilóe is derived from Chilue, or, more strictly speaking, from
Chili-hue (see Agüeros and Molina), which means ‘farther,’ or ‘new,’
or ‘the end of’ Chili, and ought, by derivation, to have the accent,
as Agüeros placed it, on the o. No reason can be given by a Spaniard
for placing an accent on the final e of that word, yet it is almost
generally placed there. My own idea is that the French traders to
Chile in 1700-1780, first placed an accent on the e in writing,
and that Feuillée, Frezier, and others have been followed without
inquiry. Had not the stress been laid on the o, surely the natives
of Chilóe would have been called Chiloetes, or Chiloenos, instead of
Chilotes. As to the name Chile, every one knows it is derived from
the Indian word Chili, (Herrera, Ovalle, Agüeros, Molina, &c.) but
why it was altered by the Spaniards to Chile, I have never been able
to discover.
[49] The number stated to me was 35,000.
[50] Every able-bodied native man is enrolled in the local militia,
and obliged to work thus till disabled by infirmity.
[51] The Minga is described in Molina, and Spanish authors. For an
excellent discussion respecting the Cava, see Burney--Brouwer’s
Voyage, 1643, vol. iii. p. 137, 8, 9.
[52] Native of Calbuco.
[53] A timber-yard: or a place where alerse is cut down, on the
flanks of the Cordillera of the Andes.
[54] From three to five miles.
[55] To steady him across bridges of single trees, thrown over
ravines, as well as to assist in supporting the load. Sometimes they
climb up or down precipices with their loads, by a fallen tree,
notched to receive the feet.
[56] A Spaniard of Castile.
[57] Don Pedro de Angelis, of Buenos Ayres, has collected and
published a great number of documents relating to the ‘Cesares.’
[58] For the pension granted to seamen in the Royal Navy after
twenty-one years’ servitude.
[59] Palbitad, or Almangrande.