sight, and, excepting the beauty of the port in which we lay, we knew
not what could prevail upon us to stay on this apparently barren ground:
the horizon terminated by bald mountains, the land lacerated by the sea,
which seems to claim the empire over it; the fields bearing a dead
aspect, for want of inhabitants; no woods to comfort those who intended
to be the first settlers; a vast silence, now and then interrupted by
the howls of marine monsters; and, lastly, the sad uniformity which
reigned throughout; all these were discouraging objects, which seemed
that in such dreary places nature would refuse assistance to the efforts
of man. But time and experience taught us, that labour and constancy
would not be without success even there. The resources with which nature
presented us, were immense bays, sheltered from the violence of the
winds by mountains, which poured forth cascades and rivulets; meadows
covered with rich pastures, proper for the food of numerous flocks;
lakes and pools to water them; no contests concerning the property of
the place; no fierce, or poisonous, or importune animals to be dreaded;
an innumerable quantity of the most useful amphibia; birds and fish of
the best taste; a combustible substance to supply the defect of wood;
plants known to be specifics against the diseases common to sea-faring
men; a healthy and continually temperate climate, much more fit to make
men healthy and robust, than those enchant-countries, where abundance
itself becomes noxious, and heat causes a total inactivity. These
advantages soon expunged the impressions which the first appearance had
made, and justified the attempt.
To this we may add, that the English in their relation of Port-Egmont,
have not scrupled to say, that the countries adjacent furnished every
thing necessary for a good settlement. Their taste for natural history
will, without doubt, engage them to make and to publish enquiries which
will rectify these.
[Sidenote: Geographical position of the Malouines.]
The Malouines are situated between 51° and 52° 30′ S. lat. and 65° 30′
W. long. from Paris; and between 80 and 90 leagues distant from the
coast of America or Patagonia, and from the entrance of the straits of
Magalhaens.
The map which we give of these islands, has certainly not a geographical
accuracy, which must have been the work of many years. It may, however,
serve to indicate nearly the extent of these isles from east to west,
and from north to south; the position of the coasts, along which our
ships have sailed; the figure and depth of the great bays, and the
direction of the principal mountains[21].
[Sidenote: Of the harbours.]
The harbours, which we have examined, are both extensive and secure; a
tough ground, and islands happily situated to break the fury of the
waves, contribute to make them safe and easily defensible; they have
little creeks, in which the smallest vessels can retire. The rivulets
come down into the sea; so that nothing can be more easy, than to take
in the provision of fresh water.
[Sidenote: Tides.]
The tides are subject to all the emotions of the sea, which surrounds
the isles, and have never risen at settled periods, which could have
been calculated. It has only been observed, that, just before
high-water, they have three determinate variations; the sea, at that
time, in less than a quarter of an hour, rises and falls thrice, as if
shaken up and down; and this motion is more violent during the
solstices, the equinoxes, and the full moons.
[Sidenote: Winds.]
The winds are generally variable; but still those between north and
west, and between south and west, are more prevalent than the others. In
winter, when the winds are between north and west, the weather is foggy
and rainy; if between west and south, they bring snow, hail, and hoar
frost; if from between south and east, they are less attended with
mists, but violent, though not quite so much as the summer winds, which
blow between south-west and north-west: these latter, which clear the
sky and dry the soil, do not begin to blow till the sun appears above
the horizon; they encrease as that luminary rises; are at the greatest
height when he crosses the meridian; and lose their force when he goes
to disappear behind the mountains. Besides being regulated by the sun’s
motion, they are likewise subject to be governed by the tides, which
encrease their force, and sometimes alter their direction. Almost all
the nights throughout the year are calm, fair, and star-light,
especially in summer. The snow, which is brought by the south-west winds
in winter, is inconsiderable; it lies about two months upon the tops of
the highest mountains; and a day or two, at most, upon the surface of
the other grounds. The rivers do not freeze, and the ice of lakes and
pools has not been able to bear men upwards of twenty-four hours
together. The hoar-frosts in spring and autumn do no damage to the
plants, and at sun-rising are converted into dew. In summer, thunder is
seldom heard; and, upon the whole, we felt neither great cold, nor great
heat; and the distinction of seasons appeared almost insensible. In such
a climate, where the revolutions of the seasons affect by no means the
constitution, it is natural that men should be strong and healthy; and
this has been experienced during a stay of three years.
[Sidenote: Water.]
The few mineral substances found at the Malouines, are a proof of the
goodness of the water, which is every where conveniently situated; no
noxious plants infect the places where it runs through; its bed is
generally gravel or sand, and sometimes turf, which give it a little
yellowish hue, without diminishing its goodness and lightness.
[Sidenote: Soil.]
All the plains have much more depth of soil than is necessary for the
plough to go in. The soil is so much interwoven with roots of plants, to
the depth of near twelve inches, that it was necessary, before it was
possible to proceed to cultivation, to take off this crust or layer; and
to cut it, that it might be dried and burnt. It is known, that this
process is excellent to make the ground better, and we made use of it.
Below this first layer, is a black mould, never less than eight or ten
inches deep, and frequently much deeper; the next is the yellow, or
original virgin-soil, whose depth is undeterminate. It rests upon strata
of slate and stones; among which no calcareous ones have ever been
found; as the trial has been made with aquafortis. It seems, that the
isles are without stones of this kind. Journeys have been undertaken to
the very tops of the mountains, in order to find some; but they have
never procured any other than a kind of quartz, and a sandstone, not
friable; which produced sparks, and even a kind of phosphorescent light,
accompanied with a smell of brimstone. Stones proper for building are
not wanting; for most of the coasts are formed of them. There are strata
of a very hard and small grained stone; and likewise other strata, more
or less sloping, which consist of slates; and of a kind of stone
containing particles of talc. There are likewise stones, which divide
into shivers; and on them we observed impressions of a kind of fossil
shells, unknown in these seas; we made grind-stones of it to sharpen our
tools. The stone taken out of the quarries was yellowish, and not yet
come to a sufficient degree of hardness, as it could be cut with a
knife; but it hardened in the air. Clay, sand, and earth, fit for making
potters-ware and bricks, were easily found.
[Sidenote: Turf and its qualities.]
The turf, which is generally to be met with above the clay, goes up a
great way in the country. From, whatever point one sets out, one could
not go a league without meeting with considerable strata of it, always
easy to be distinguished by the inequalities in the ground, by which
some of its sides were discovered. It continually is formed from the
remains of roots and plants in marshy places; which are always known by
a sharp-pointed kind of rushes. This turf being taken in a bay, near our
habitation, where it shews a surface of twelve feet high to the open
air, gets a sufficient degree of dryness there. This was what we made
use of; its smell was not disagreeable; it burnt well, and its cinders,
or embers, were superior to those of sea-coals; because, by blowing
them, it was as easy to light a candle as with burning coals; it was
sufficient for all the works of the forge, excepting the joining of
great pieces.
[Sidenote: Plants.]
All the sea-shores, and the inner parts of the isles are covered with a
kind of gladiolus, or rather a species of gramen. It is of an excellent
green, and is above six feet high, and serves for a retreat to seals and
sea-lions: on our journies it sheltered us, as it did them. By its
assistance we could take up our quarters in a moment. Its bent and
united stalks, formed a thatch or roof, and its dry leaves a pretty good
bed. It was likewise with this plant that we covered our houses; its
stalk is sweet, nourishing, and preferred to all other food by the
cattle.
Next to this great plant, the heath, the shrubs, and the gum-plant were
the only objects that appeared in the fields. The other parts are
covered by small plants, which, in moist ground, are more green and more
substantial. The shrubs were of great use to us as fuel, and they were
afterwards kept for heating the ovens, together with the heath; the red
fruit of the latter attracted a great quantity of game in the season.
[Sidenote: Resinous gum-plant.]
The gum-plant, which is new and unknown in Europe, deserves a more ample
description. It is of a bright green, and has nothing of the figure of a
plant; one would sooner take it to be an excrescence of the earth of
this colour; for it has neither stalk, branches, nor leaves—Its surface,
which is convex, is of so close a texture, that nothing can be
introduced between it, without tearing it. The first thing we did, was
to sit down or stand upon it; it is not above a foot and a half high. It
would bear us up as safely as a stone, without yielding under our
weight. Its breadth is very disproportionate to its height; and I have
seen some of more than six feet in diameter, without being any higher
than common. Its circumference is regular only in the smaller plants,
which are generally hemispherical; but when they are grown up, they are
terminated by humps and cavities, without any regularity. In several
parts of its surface, are drops of the size of pease, of a tough
yellowish matter; which was at first called gum; but as it could not be
dissolved, except by spirituous solvents, it was named a rosin. Its
smell is strong, aromatic, and like that of turpentine. In order to know
the inside of this plant, we cut it close to the ground, and turned it
down. As we broke it, we saw that it comes from a stalk, whence an
infinite number of concentric shoots arise, consisting of leaves like
stars, enchased one within the other, by means of an axis common to all.
These shoots are white within, except at a little distance of the
surface, where the air colours them green. When they are broken, a milky
juice comes out in great abundance; which is more viscid than that of
spurge[22]. The stalk abounds with the juice, as do the roots, which
extend horizontally; and often at some distance send forth new shoots,
so that you never find one of these plants alone. It seems to like the
sides of hills; and it thrives well in any exposure. It was not before
the third year that we endeavoured to know its flower and seeds, both of
which are very small, because we had been disappointed in our attempts
to bring it over to Europe. At last, however, some seeds were brought,
in order to endeavour to get possession of so singular and new a plant,
which might even prove useful in physic; as its rosin had already been
successfully applied to slight wounds by several sailors. One thing
deserves to be observed, namely, that this plant loses its rosin by the
air alone, and the washing of the rains. How can we make this agree with
its quality of dissolving in spirits alone? In this state it was
amazingly light, and would burn like straw.
[Sidenote: Beer-plant.]
After this extraordinary plant, we met with one of approved utility; it
forms a little shrub, and sometimes creeps under the plants, and along
the coast. We accidentally tasted it, and found it had a spruce taste,
which put us in mind of trying to make beer of it; we had brought a
quantity of melasses and malt with us; the trials we made, answered
beyond expectation; and the settlers being once instructed in the
process, never were in want of this liquor afterwards, which was
anti-scorbutic, by the nature of the plant; it was with good success
employed in baths, which were made for sick persons, who came from the
sea. Its leaves are small and dentated, and of a bright green. When it
is crushed between the fingers, it is reduced into a kind of meal, which
is somewhat glutinous, and has an aromatic smell.
A kind of celery or wild parsley, in great quantities; abundance of
sorrel, water-cresses, and a kind of maiden-hair[23], with undated
leaves, furnished as much as could be required against the scurvy,
together with the above plant.
[Sidenote: Fruits.]
Two small fruits, one of which is unknown, and looks like a mulberry,
the other no bigger than a pea, and called lucet, on account of the
similarity it bears to that which is found in North-America, were the
only ones which were to be had in autumn. Those which grew upon the
bushes were good for nothing, excepting for children, who will eat the
worst of fruits, and for wild-fowl. The plant on which the fruit, which
we called mulberry, grew, is creeping; its leaf resembles that of the
hornbeam; its branches are long, and it is propagated like the
strawberry.
The lucet is likewise a creeping plant, bearing the fruit all along its
branches, which are beset with little shining round leaves, of the
colour of myrtle leaves; their fruits are white, and coloured red on
that side which is turned towards the sun; they have an aromatic taste,
and smell like orange-blossoms, as do the leaves, of which the infusion
drank with milk is very pleasant to the taste. This plant is hidden
among the grass, and prefers a wet soil: a prodigious quantity of it
grows in the neighbourhood of lakes.
[Sidenote: Flowers.]
Among several other plants, which we found superfluous to examine, there
were many flowers, but all without smell, one excepted, which is white,
and has the smell of the tuberose. We likewise found a true violet, as
yellow as a jonquil. It is worth notice that we have never found any
bulbous-rooted plant. Another singularity is, that in the southern part
of the isle we inhabited, beyond a chain of hills which divides it from
east to west, it appeared that there were hardly any of the resinous
gum-plants, and that in their stead we found abundance of another plant
of the same form, but of a different green, wanting the solidity of the
other, and not producing any rosin, but only fine yellow flowers in the
proper season. This plant, which was easily opened, consisted as the
other, of shoots which all spring from the same stalk, and terminate at
its surface. Coming back over the hills, we found a tall species of
maiden hair; its leaves are not waved, but in the form of sword blades.
From the plant arise two principal stalks, which bear their seeds on the
underside, like the other species of maiden hair. There were likewise a
great quantity of friable plants growing upon stones, they seemed to
partake of the nature of stone, and of vegetables; they were thought to
be species of lichen, but the ascertaining whether they would be of use
in dying, was put off to another time.
[Sidenote: Sea plants.]
As to the submarine plants, they were more inconvenient than of any use.
The whole harbour is covered with sea weeds, especially near the shore,
by which means the boats found it difficult to land; they are of no
other service than to break the force of the waters when the sea runs
very high. We hoped to make a good use of them by employing them for a
manure. The tides brought us several species of coralines, which were
very much varied, and of the finest colours; these, together with the
spunges and shells, have deserved places in the cabinets of the curious.
All the spunges have the figure of plants, and are branched in so many
different ways, that we could hardly believe them to be the work of
marine insects. Their texture is so compact, and their fibres so
delicate, that it is inconceivable how these animals can lodge in them.
The coasts of the Malouines have provided the collections in Europe with
several new shells; the most curious of which, is that called _la
poulette_. There are three sorts of this bivalve; and among them the
striated one had never before been seen, except in the fossil state;
this may prove the assertion, that the fossil-shells, found much below
the level of the sea, are not lusus naturæ, and accidentally formed; but
that they have really been inhabited by living animals, at the time when
the land was covered by the water. Along with this shell, which is very
common here, there are limpets[24]; esteemed on account of their fine
colours; whelks[25], of several kinds; scallops[26]; great striated and
smooth muscle-shells[27], and the finest mother of pearl.
[Sidenote: Animals.]
There is only a single species of quadruped upon these islands; it is a
medium between the wolf and the fox. The land and water-fowls are
innumerable. The sea-lions and seals are the only amphibia. All the
coasts abound with fish, most of them little known. The whales keep in
the open sea; some of them happen now and then to be stranded in the
bays, and their remains are sometimes seen there. Some other bones of an
enormous size, a good way up in the country, whither the force of the
waves could never carry them, prove that either the sea is diminished,
or that the soil is encreased.
The wolf-fox, (_loup-renard_) thus called, on account of its digging a
kennel under ground, and having a more bushy tail than a wolf, lives
upon the downs along the sea-shore. It attacks the wild fowls; and makes
its roads from one bay to another, with so much sagacity, that they are
always the shortest that can be devised; and, at our first landing on
the isle, we had almost no doubt of their being the paths of
inhabitants. It seems this animal fasts during a time of the year; for
it is then vastly lean. Its size and make is that of a common shepherd’s
dog; and it barks in the same manner, though not so loud. In what manner
can it have been transported to these islands[28]?
The birds and fish have enemies, which endanger their tranquility. These
enemies of the birds are the above kind of wolf, which destroys many of
their eggs and young ones; the eagles, hawks, falcons, and owls.
The fish are still worse used; without mentioning the whales, which
feeding, as is well known, upon fry only, destroy prodigious numbers;
they are likewise exposed to the amphibious creatures, and to birds;
some of which are always watching on the rocks, whilst others constantly
skim along the surface of the sea.
It would require a great deal of time, and the eyes of an able
naturalist, in order to describe the following animals well. I shall
here give the most essential observations, and extend them only to such
animals as were of some utility.
[Sidenote: Web-footed birds.]
Among the web-footed birds, the swan is the first in order; it only
differs from the European one by its neck; which is of a velvet black,
and makes an admirable contrast with the whiteness of the rest of its
body; its feet are flesh-coloured. This kind of swan is likewise to be
found in Rio de la Plata, and in the straits of Magalhaens.
Four species of wild-geese made part of our greatest riches. The first
only feeds on dry land; and has, improperly, been called bustard[29].
Its high legs serve to elevate it above the tall grass, and its long
neck to observe any danger. It walks and flies with great ease; and has
not that disagreeable cackling cry, peculiar to the rest of its kind.
The plumage of the male is white, mixed with black and ash-colour on the
wings. The female is yellow; and its wings are adorned with changing
colours; it generally lays six eggs. Its flesh is wholesome, nourishing,
and palatable; it seldom happened that we had any scarcity of this kind
of geese; for, besides these which are bred in the isle, they come in
great flocks in autumn, with the east wind, probably from some
uninhabited country. The sportsmen easily distinguish these new-comers,
by the little fear they shew of men. The other three species are not so
much in request; for they feed on fish, and get a trainy taste. Their
figure is not so elegant as that of the first species; one of these
kinds seldom rises above the water, and is very noisy. The colours of
their feathers are chiefly white, black, yellow, and ash-colour. All
these species, and likewise the swan, have a soft down under the
feathers; which is white or grey, and very thick.
Two kinds of ducks, and two of teals, frequent the ponds and rivers. The
former are but little different from those of our climate; some of those
which we killed, were quite black, and others quite white. As to the
teals, the one has a blue bill, and is of the size of the ducks; the
other is much less. Some of them had the feathers on the belly of a
flesh colour. These species are in great plenty, and of an excellent
taste.
Here are two kinds of Divers, of a small size. One of them has a grey
back, and white belly; the feathers on the belly are so silky, shining,
and close, that we imagined these were the birds, of whose plumage the
fine muffs are made: this species is here scarce[30]. The other, which
is more common, is quite brown, but somewhat paler on the belly than on
the back. The eyes of these creatures are like rubies. Their surprising
liveliness is heightened and set off still more by the circle of white
feathers that surrounds them; and has caused the name of Diver with
Spectacles to be given to the bird. They breed two young ones at a time,
which are probably too tender to suffer the coldness of the water,
whilst they have nothing but their down; for then the mother conveys
them on her back[31]. These two species have not webbed feet, as the
other water-fowl; but their toes are separate, with a strong membrane on
each side; in this manner, each toe resembles a leaf, which is roundish
towards the claw; and the lines, which run from the toe to the
circumference of the membrane, together with its green-colour and
thinness, increase the resemblance.
Two species of birds, which were called by our people saw-bills[32], I
know not for what reason, only differed from each other in size, and
sometimes because there were now and then some with brown bellies;
whereas, the general colour of that part, in other birds of the kind,
was white. The rest of the feathers are of a very dark blueish-black; in
consequence of their shape, and the close texture and silkiness of their
vent feathers, we must rank them with the divers, though I cannot be
positive in this respect. They have a pointed bill, and the feet webbed
without any separation between the toes; the first toe, being the
longest of the three, and the membrane which joins them, ending in
nothing at the third toe, gives a very remarkable character. Their feet
are flesh-coloured[33]. These birds destroy numbers of fish; they place
themselves upon the rocks, join together by numerous families, and lay
their eggs there. As their flesh is very good to eat, we killed two or
three hundred of them at a time; and the abundance of their eggs offered
another resource to supply our wants. They were so little afraid of our
sportsmen, that it was sufficient to go against them with no better arms
than sticks. Their enemy is a bird of prey, with webbed feet; measuring
near seven feet from tip to tip, and having a long and strong bill,
distinguished by two tubes of the same substance as the bill itself,
which are hollow throughout. This is the bird which the Spaniards call
_Quebrantahuessos_[34].
A great quantity of mews, variously and prettily marked, of gulls and of
terns, almost all of them grey, and living in families, come skimming
along the water, and fall upon the fish with extraordinary quickness;
they were so far of use to us, that they shewed us the proper season of
catching pilchards; they held them suspended in the air for a moment
only, and then presently gave back entire, the fish they had swallowed
just before. At other seasons they feed upon a little fish, called
_gradeau_, and some other small fry. They lay their eggs in great
quantities round the marshes, on some green plants, pretty like the
water lily[35], and they were very wholesome food.