Such is the narrative of Castanheda. The Jesuit Maffei, who has

given us a history of India, has supplied us with less details, but

his account is not less valuable, inasmuch as he gives us the name

of the captain who commanded the ship. He says: Some Portuguese of

the Moluccas, having gone to the islands of Celebes to seek for

gold, but not having been able to land, were driven by a fearful

tempest upon an island, which is distant therefrom three hundred

leagues, when they went ashore. The inhabitants, who were simple

people, received them very well, and soon became familiar with them.

They comprehended their signs, and even understood a little of the

language spoken at the Moluccas. All the inhabitants were

well-looking, both male and female; they were cheerful, and the men

wore beards and long hair. The existence of this island was

previously unknown, but in consideration of the account given of it

by the captain, whose name was Gomez de Sequeira, and of the map

which he drew of this island, his name was given to it.

From the details supplied to us by these two authors, it is evident

that the island on which Gomez de Sequeira was thrown was to the

eastward of the Moluccas, because, in returning, the Portuguese had

to sail westward. Now three hundred Portuguese leagues, starting

from the Moluccas or the island of Celebes, lead us to within a

trifle of Endeavour Straits; we may therefore conclude that it was

upon one of the rocks in this strait that Gomez de Sequeira lost his

rudder, and that the island on which he landed was one of the

westernmost of those which lie along its western extremity. The

Portuguese did not advance far into this strait, for it is plain

that they met with no obstacle in returning to the Moluccas. I

think, therefore, that the island on which Gomez de Sequeira landed

was one of those which were called Prince of Wales’s Islands by

Captain Cook, and which are inhabited, because this navigator states

that he saw smoke there. What confirms me in this opinion, is the

agreement of our two authors in stating that the men of Gomez de

Sequeira’s Island had long and black hair and beards. We still find

this characteristic distinguishing the natives of New Holland from

those of New Guinea, whose hair and beards are crisped. This island,

therefore, was nearer to New Holland than to New Guinea, which is,

in fact, the case with the Prince of Wales’s Islands.

The Portuguese having discovered in 1525 an island so near as this

to New Holland, we must believe that the discovery of that continent

followed very soon after that of this island. It was at that time

that the controversies between the courts of Portugal and Spain were

at their highest; the Portuguese, therefore, needed to be cautious

respecting their new discoveries; they were obliged to conceal them

carefully. It will not, therefore, be surprising that no mention was

made in their works of the discovery of New Holland.

But, after having shown how much importance the Portuguese must have

attached to the concealment of their discoveries, and having

examined at what period the discovery of New Holland may have been

made, it will be not less interesting to inquire how this discovery

may have become known in France, and afterwards in England, so early

as 1542. There was nothing at that time to induce the court of

Portugal to disclose their discoveries to the court of France; there

was nothing to bind these two courts in intimate union; on the

contrary, their intercourse had for some time been rather cool. As a

proof of this, the king of Portugal had in 1543 married his daughter

Mary to Philip the Infant of Spain, without giving notice thereof to

Francis I, who thereupon showed his vexation in his conduct towards

Francis de Norough, the ambassador of Portugal, who, to avoid a

rupture between the two courts, answered with considerable reserve.

We cannot, therefore, presume that the court of Portugal would ever

have frankly communicated its discoveries to the court of France.

For my part, if it is permitted me to offer a conjecture, I think

that this information may have resulted from the faithlessness of

Don Miguel de Sylva, bishop of Viseo, and secretary of La Purité, a

favourite of the king of Portugal, who, according to De la Clede,

left the kingdom about 1542, carrying with him some papers of

importance with which the king had intrusted him.[5] This historian

adds, that Don John was so indignant at the treachery of his

favourite, that he outlawed him by a public decree, deprived him of

all his benefices, and degraded him from his nobility. He decreed

the same penalties against all his followers, and forbad all his

subjects to hold any intercourse whatever with him, under pain of

his displeasure. The count of Portalegre, the brother of the

fugitive, was even confined as prisoner in the tower of Belem for

having written to him, and kept under strict guard, until the

Infanta Maria, on the point of her departure to marry Philip II, the

son of the emperor Charles V, begged his liberation. The king

granted the request, on condition that the count should go to

Arzilla to fight against the Moors, and earn by his services the

forgiveness of his fault.

The severity which the king Don John exhibited on this occasion,

sufficiently shows the value which he attached to the papers which

had been taken away. It is evident that they were of the greatest

importance. They were secret papers; and may they not have been

those which gave information of the discoveries of the Portuguese?

Our atlases, therefore, may have been copied from these stolen

documents; and it only remains for us to discover what has become of

the originals.

Now, although the theories to which these maps have given rise have been

so complacently accepted by successive geographical writers, the subject

has never yet been minutely investigated by any English writer, nor,

indeed, have the foregoing arguments of the French been ever before

brought together into a focus. The editor, therefore, first proposes to

answer the hypothesis of M. Barbié du Bocage respecting the voyage he

adduces of Gomez de Sequeira, and then, finally, to deal with the

general question of the suggestive evidence of the maps.

With respect to Gomez de Sequeira’s voyage, it is certainly surprising

that M. Barbié du Bocage should have contented himself with referring to

Castanheda and Maffei for a slight and loose description of this voyage,

when it was equally competent to him to have resorted to the more ample

description of Barros, the most distinguished of all the early

Portuguese historians, who lived in the middle of the sixteenth century,

and who has devoted a whole chapter to the minute description of the

voyage in question. (See Dec. 3, liv. x, cap. 5.) So full and ample is

Barros’ narrative that, with a modern map before us, we can track

Sequeira’s course with a nicety which, so far as the main question is

concerned, is not interrupted even by the accidents of the storm and the

unshipping of his rudder. Let the reader for a moment consult any modern

map of the Moluccas and neighbouring islands, and he will find that the

island of Celebes, to which Sequeira directed his course from Ternate,

presents the northernmost of the three horns of its oddly-shaped outline

at a distance of about sixty leagues from Ternate. This is the distance

which Barros states that he had to sail in order to reach that island.

Had he sailed to the nearest of the two other points his voyage would

have been, instead of sixty leagues, more than twice that distance;

whereas the very nearness of the island was a leading inducement for

undertaking the voyage, as the object was to relieve the immediate

necessities of the settlement at Ternate. Upon landing at the point thus

shown to be the northernmost one, the fact of his having carried with

him stuffs for barter being discovered by the natives, converted the

friendly feeling with which they had at first received him into

hostility, as, having heard of some previous acts of greediness on the

part of the Portuguese, they immediately concluded that the visit was

not made in a spirit of friendship, but from selfish and ulterior

motives. Hence Sequeira and his party were compelled to make their

escape in haste, and proceeded to four or five other small islands in

the neighbourhood, at which they met with a like reception. The map will

show these plainly to the north of Celebes. Resolving after these

rebuffs to return to Ternate, they encountered a terrific storm, which

drove them, to the best of their calculation, three hundred leagues,

_into an open sea_, with not a single island in sight, _but constantly

towards the east_. At length one night they struck upon an island and

unshipped their rudder. They met with a most friendly reception from the

natives, who are described as of a light, rather than a dark, colour,

and clothed. The island is stated to have been large, and the natives

pointed to a mountain to the westward in which they said there was gold.

The Portuguese remained in the island four months, until the monsoon

enabled them to return to Ternate.

Now, had Sequeira been driven by the storm towards Endeavour Strait, as

presumed by M. Barbié du Bocage, a glance at the map will show us that

his course would have been south-east instead of east, and that not

through an open sea in which no island could be seen, but one bestudded

with islands. In fact, so definite is the whole account as given in

detail by Barros, that, as we have shown, his course under the driving

of the tempest may be palpably traced in accordance therewith on modern

maps as due east to the north of the Moluccas, and through an open sea,

and is clearly at variance with the inference of M. Barbié du Bocage,

who seems not to have consulted Barros at all upon the subject. To what

island, the reader will ask, was Sequeira driven? Let the modern map be

consulted, and the course described will bring us to the island Tobi,

otherwise known as Lord North’s Island. A course so clearly defined is

in itself a very strong point in the question, even though we may have

to show some discrepancies between the description of the island on

which Sequeira was thrown and that which we have in recent times

received of Lord North’s Island. Let the reader, however, in connexion

with Barros’ description of the course, take the following remarkable

statement, as quoted in the 6th volume of the _Ethnography and Philology

of the United States Exploring Expedition_, by H. Hale, in which, under

the article “Tobi, or Lord North’s Island,” at p. 78, the following

account is given, and he will perhaps not dissent from the editor in

thinking it possible that this was the island on which Sequeira was

driven.

“Tobi, or Lord North’s Island, is situated in about lat. 3° 2´ N.,

and long. 131° 4´ E. It is a small low islet, about three miles in

circumference, with a population of between three and four hundred

souls. Our information concerning it is derived from an American, by

name Horace Holden, who, with eleven companions, after suffering

shipwreck, reached the island in a boat, and was taken captive by

the natives. He was detained by them two years, from December 6th,

1832, to November 27th, 1834, when he made his escape and returned

to America, where he published in a small volume [which is in the

British Museum], an interesting narrative of his adventures and

sufferings, with a description of the island and its inhabitants.

“The complexion of the natives, says Holden in his narrative, is _a

light copper colour_, much lighter than that of the Malays or Pelew

Islanders, which last, however, they resemble in the breadth of

their faces, high cheek bones, and broad flattened noses. Here we

observe what has been before remarked of the Polynesian tribes, that

the lightest complexion is found among those who are nearest the

equator.

“According to the native traditions a personage, by name Pita-Ka’t

(or Peeter Kart),[6] of copper colour like themselves, ‘_Came, many

years ago, from the Island of Ternate, one of the Moluccas, and gave

them their religion and such simple arts as they possessed_. It is

probably to him that we are to attribute some peculiarities in their

mode of worship, such as their temple, with rude images to represent

their divinity. The natives wear the Polynesian girdle of barb

cloth.

“The houses of the natives are built with small trees and rods, and

thatched with leaves. They have two stories, a ground floor and a

loft, which is entered by a hole or scuttle through the horizontal

partition or upper floor.

“For ornament they sometimes wear in their ears, which are always

bored, a folded leaf, and around their necks a necklace made of the

shell of the cocoa-nut and a small white sea shell.”

With reference to the cruelties detailed in Holden’s narrative, Mr. Hale

goes on to say:

“It should be mentioned that the release of the four Americans who

survived (two of whom got free a short time after their capture),

was voluntary on the part of the natives, a fact which shows that

the feelings of humanity were not altogether extinct in their

hearts. Indeed, although the sufferings of the captives were very

great, it did not appear that they were worse, relatively to the

condition in which the natives themselves lived, than they would

have been on any other island of the Pacific. Men who were actually

dying of starvation, like the people of Tobi, could not be expected

to exercise that kindness towards others which nature refused to

them.”

We have quoted this somewhat long passage respecting Lord North’s

Island, as having an incidental interest in connexion with M. Barbié du

Bocage’s argument; but whatever may really have been the island on which

Sequeira was driven, it seems clear that it could not have been in the

direction of Endeavour Strait as inferred by that geographer.

Having thus shown the surmises which have been suggested by geographers

of good repute with respect to the main question of the discovery of

Australia in the early part of the sixteenth century, and explained, as

he hopes satisfactorily, the errors into which they have fallen in their

attempts at explanation, the editor will now lay before the reader his

own reasons for concluding that Australia is the country which these

maps describe.

The first question that will naturally arise is—how far does the country

thus represented, correspond in latitude, longitude, and outline with

the recognized surveys of Australia as delineated in modern maps? And if

the discrepancies exposed by the comparison do not forbid the

supposition that Australia is the country represented on the early maps,

the inquiry will then suggest itself—how, with any satisfactory show of

reason, may these discrepancies be accounted for? To both these

questions, the editor believes that he can give acceptable answers.

And first as respects latitude. In all of these maps, the latitude of

the north of Java, which is the first certain starting point, is

correct. The south coast of Java, or “the lytil Java,” though separated

from “Java la Grande,” or the “Londe of Java,” by a narrow channel, as

shown in the maps here given, has no names which indicate any pretension

to a survey. There is enough proximity between the two to suggest alike

the possibility of a connection or of a separation of the two countries.

In the absence of so many words, the maps show as plainly as possible

that it was as yet an unsettled question. With this fact, therefore,

before us, implying, as it does, both conscientiousness in the

statements on the maps, and the confession of an imperfect survey of the

whole of the coasts supposed to be laid down, we have no difficulty in

giving credence to the pretension that the great southern land there

represented was, with all its errors, a reality and not a fiction. In

all fairness, therefore, we pass the question of junction between the

little and the great Java, as a point virtually declared to be

unsettled, and supposing the latter to be Australia, test our

supposition by inquiring as to the correctness of the latitude in which

the coast line terminates on the western side. Here again we find exact

correctness. In the one (Rotz’s map), the line ceases altogether at 35°,

the real south-western point of Australia, and in the other at the same

point all description ceases, and a meaningless line is drawn to the

margin of the map, implying that no further exploration had been made.

On the eastern side, we have in every respect greater inaccuracy; but

for the present we deal only with the question of latitude. For the sake

of convenience, our reduction of Rotz’s map is made to terminate at the

point where the eastern coast line of “the londe of Java terminates,”

namely in the sixtieth degree, a parallel far exceeding in its southing

even the southernmost point of Tasmania, which is in 43° 35´; but if we

look to the Dauphin map, we find that about ten degrees of the

southernmost portion of the line is indefinite, and it must not be

forgotten that for the Portuguese this was the remotest point for

investigation, and consequently the least likely to be definite. There

is, however, strong reason for supposing that the eastern side of

Tasmania was included within this coast line.

With respect to longitude, it may be advanced that with all the

discrepancies observable in the maps here presented, there is no other

country but Australia lying between the same parallels, and of the same

extent, between the east coast of Africa and the west coast of America,

and that Australia does in reality lie between the same meridians as the

great mass of the country here laid down. In Rotz’s map we have the

longitude reckoned from the Cape Verde islands, the degrees running

eastward from 1 to 360. The extreme western point of “the Londe of Java”

is in about 126° (102 E. from Greenwich), whereas the westernmost point

of Australia is in about 113° E. from Greenwich. The extreme eastern

points of “the Londe of Java” is in about 207° (or 183° E. from

Greenwich). The extreme eastern point however is on a peak of huge

extent, which is a manifest blunder or exaggeration. The longitude of

the easternmost side, excluding this peak, is in about 187° (or 163° E.

from Greenwich), whereas the easternmost point of Australia is in

something less than 154° E. from Greenwich. The difficulty of

ascertaining the longitude in those days is well known, and the

discoveries which these maps represent were, in all probability, made on

a variety of occasions, and had a continuous line given to them on maps,

not so much as an exact, but as an approximative guide to subsequent

explorers. It were hard indeed, therefore, if sufficient concession were

not made to the pioneers of maritime exploration, for the reconciliation

of these comparatively light discrepancies, when inaccuracies as

striking are observable in surveys made as late as in the eighteenth

century.

Thus in taking a general survey of the outline of this immense country,

we have this one striking fact presented to us, that the western side is

comprised between exactly the same parallels as the corresponding side

of Australia, allowance being made for the conjunction of Java, while

the eastern side presents the same characteristic as the eastern side of

Australia in being by far the longest.

Early Voyages to Terra Australis, Now Called Australia: A Collection of Documents, and Extracts from Early Manuscript Maps, Illustrative of the History of Discovery on the Coasts of That Vast Island, from the Beginning of the Sixteenth Century to the Time of Captain Cook. · 第 3 / 24 段