Born 1716—Died 1795.
THIS great traveller, as Andiffret and Viguier observe, was one of those
men, who, in the course of the eighteenth century, reflected the
greatest honour upon Spain. He was born at Seville on the 12th of
January, 1716. His family, already distinguished in the navy, began to
prepare him from his earliest years for following the same career. His
education was conducted with extraordinary care. In 1733 he entered the
service, and his progress very quickly exceeded the most sanguine hopes
which the first manifestations of his character had given birth to. The
first commission with which he was intrusted was the scientific
expedition concerted between the ministers of France and Spain, for the
purpose of measuring a degree of the meridian near the equator, while
another expedition was despatched to measure other degrees under the
polar circle, in order to form a judgment of the different parts of the
earth’s circumference, by their equality or inequality, and from thence
to determine its magnitude and figure.
The province of Quito, in Peru, appearing to offer the most favourable
equatorial position for performing this enterprise, which seemed likely
to be long and laborious, the ministers of Louis XV. made application to
Philip V. of Spain, for permission to send a certain number of French
academicians into Peru, in order to make there the necessary
observations. Philip referred the matter to the Council of the Indies,
and, on their favourable report, the license was granted, with all the
necessary recommendations and assurances of the royal protection to the
travellers. He moreover appointed two officers of his navy, says Ulloa,
well skilled in mathematics, to join in the observations which were to
be made, in order to give them a greater dignity, and a more extensive
advantage; and that the Spaniards might owe only to themselves the
fruits and improvements expected from them.
The two officers appointed for this service by Philip were Don George
Juan, and Don Antonio de Ulloa. Previous to their departure, these two
gentlemen were promoted to the rank of lieutenant in the royal navy.
Having received their instructions, they set sail in separate ships from
Cadiz Bay, May 26th, 1735, and on the 9th of July arrived in the bay of
Carthagena. Here they found on landing that the French academicians had
not yet reached the port, and as they had been instructed to await their
arrival at this city, they determined to employ the interval in making
nautical and astronomical observations. They were allowed ample leisure
by the delay of the French travellers, who did hot join them until the
15th of November, when they all proceeded together, by the way of Porto
Bello, Panama, and Guayaquil, to their ultimate destination.
The party set sail on the 24th of November, and reached Porto Bello on
the 29th. From thence they proceeded in small vessels up the river
Chagre, the current of which was so rapid, that their oars became
useless, and they were compelled to push the vessels along with poles.
This river was formerly named Lagartos, from the great number of caymans
or alligators which were found in it. Its banks, rendered impassable by
woods and thickets, exhibited a series of the richest and most
magnificent landscapes:—the groves which shade the plains, and extend
their branches to the river, the various dimensions of the trees which
cover the eminences; the texture of their leaves; the figure of their
fruits, and the various colours they exhibit, form a delightful scene,
which is greatly heightened by the infinite variety of creatures with
which it is diversified. The different species of monkeys, skipping from
tree to tree, hanging from the branches; and in other places, six,
eight, or more of them linked together in order to pass a river, and the
dams with their young on their shoulders, throwing themselves into odd
postures, making a thousand grimaces; will perhaps appear fictitious to
those who have not actually seen it. But if the birds are considered,
our reason for admiration will be considerably augmented.
At Panama, on the Pacific, where they arrived on the 29th of December,
their stay was considerably prolonged by various preparations
indispensable for the prosecution of their journey. This interval was
usefully employed by Ulloa: he made numerous astronomical observations,
took a plan of the city and the adjacent coast, and observed with
minuteness and accuracy the surrounding country and its inhabitants.
Their arrangements being completed, they embarked on the Pacific, and
sailed for Guayaquil, which they reached on the 25th of March. Here they
were received with distinguished politeness by the corregidor, who
immediately apprized the corregidor of Guaranda of their arrival, that
he might order carriages to the port of Caracol for conveying them to
the mountains.
All things being thus prepared, they departed from Guayaquil, and
embarked on the river on the 3d of May, 1736. The extreme velocity and
strength of the current, and several unfortunate accidents, so greatly
retarded their progress, that they did not reach Caracol before the
11th. “The tortures we received on the river, from the mosquitoes,” says
Ulloa, “were beyond imagination. We had provided ourselves with quetres
and mosquito-cloths; but to very little purpose: the whole day we were
in continual motion to keep them off; but at night our torments were
excessive. Our gloves were indeed some defence to our hands, but our
faces were entirely exposed; nor were our clothes a sufficient defence
for the rest of our bodies, for their stings penetrating through the
cloth, caused a very painful and fiery itching. The most dismal night we
spent on this passage, was when we came to an anchor near a large and
handsome house, but uninhabited; for we had no sooner seated ourselves
in it, than we were attacked on all sides with innumerable swarms of
mosquitoes, so that we were so far from having any rest there, that it
was impossible for a person susceptible of feeling to be one moment
quiet. Those who had covered themselves with their mosquito-cloths,
after taking care that none of these malignant insects were contained in
them, found themselves in a moment so attacked on all sides that they
were obliged soon to return to the place they had quitted. Those who
were in the house, hoping that they should find some relief in the open
fields, ventured out, though in danger of suffering in a more terrible
manner from the serpents; but were soon convinced of their mistake, it
being impossible to determine which was the more desirable place, within
the mosquito-cloth, without it, or in the open fields. In short no
expedient was of any use against their numbers. The smoke of the trees
we burnt to disperse these infernal insects, besides almost choking us,
seemed rather to augment than diminish their numbers. At daybreak we
could not without concern look at each other.”
At Caracol they quitted the river, and continued their journey on the
backs of mules, through thick forests, along the course of the river
Ojibar. When, as frequently happened, they found no habitation near
their halting-place, the inconvenience was soon remedied by the
remarkable dexterity of their Indians, who running into the woods,
quickly returned with branches of trees and vijahna leaves, with which,
in less than an hour, they erected several huts large enough to contain
the whole party, and so well contrived that the rain, which fell in
torrents, could not penetrate them. They now began to ascend the distant
roots of the mountains, and felt an increasing coldness in the air. At a
place called Mamarumi, or the “Mother of Stone,” they beheld an
indescribably beautiful cascade.
“The rock,” says Ulloa, “from which the water precipitates itself is
nearly perpendicular, and fifty toises in height, and on both sides
bordered with lofty and spreading trees. The clearness of the water
dazzles the sight, which is however charmed with its lustre as it falls
from the precipice; after which it continues its course in a bed along a
small descent, and is crossed by the road.”
The roads by degrees assumed an Alpine character; in some places the
declivity was so great, that the mules could scarcely keep their
footing, while in others the acclivity was equally difficult.
Occasionally the road grew so narrow that there was scarcely room for
the mules to pass, while it lay at other times along the edge of
tremendous precipices, where, had they made one false step, they must
have inevitably toppled over and perished. The extraordinary dexterity
of the mules in descending the fearful slopes of these mountains is one
of the most surprising things related of the sagacity of animals. The
mules themselves are sensible of the caution requisite in these
descents; for coming at the top of an eminence they stop, and having
placed their fore-feet close together, as in a posture of stopping
themselves, they put their hind-feet together, but a little forwards, as
if going to lie down. In this attitude, having taken a survey of the
road, they slide down with the swiftness of a meteor. All the rider has
to do is to keep himself fast on the saddle without checking the beast;
for the least motion is sufficient to disorder the equilibrium of the
mule; in which case they both unavoidably perish. The address of these
creatures is here truly wonderful; for in this rapid motion, when they
seem to have lost all government of themselves, they follow exactly the
different windings of the road, as if they had before accurately
reconnoitred, and previously settled in their minds the route they were
to follow, and taken every precaution for their safety among so many
irregularities. There would indeed otherwise be no possibility of
travelling over such places, where the safety of the rider depends on
the experience and address of his beast.
But the longest habit of travelling these roads cannot entirely free
them from a kind of dread or horror, which appears when they arrive at
the top of a steep declivity; for they stop without being checked by the
rider; and, if he inadvertently endeavours to spur them on, they
continue immoveable, nor will they stir from the place till they have
put themselves in the above-mentioned posture. Now it is that they seem
to be actuated by reason; for they not only attentively view the road,
but tremble and snort at the danger which, if the rider be not
accustomed to these emotions, cannot fail of filling him with terrible
ideas.
On the 18th they crossed the summit of the mountain, and descended into
the province of Chimbo, where they were met by the corregidor, the
provincial alcalde, and the principal persons of the town; and on their
nearer approach a number of Dominican monks, with a large portion of the
inhabitants, came out with a troop of Indian dancing and singing boys to
welcome them. Here they remained three days to refresh themselves after
their fatiguing passage across the mountains; and then, continuing their
journey, entered the desert of Chimborazo, keeping the mountain of the
same name on the left, and travelling, over different eminences and
heights, most of which were of sand, the snow for a great, distance
forming, as it were, the sides of the mountain. During their journey
across this desert they suffered greatly from the cold, the severity of
which was much increased by the violence of the wind. They lodged at
night in caverns in the rock; and on emerging from the more dreary part
of the waste, passed the ruins of a palace of the ancient incas of Peru.
On their arrival at Quito, they were received with splendid hospitality
by Don Dioneso de Alzedo y Herrera, who provided them with apartments in
the palace of the Andencia, while the clergy and the principal
inhabitants vied with each other in their attention and civilities.
Among the many remarkable natural curiosities observed by our traveller
during his journey is a species of cane, from thirty-five to fifty feet
in height, and about six inches in diameter. “From the time of their
first appearance till they attain their full perfection, when they are
cut down or begin to dry, most of the tubes contain a quantity of water;
but with this remarkable difference, that at full moon they are entirely
or very nearly full, and with the decrease of the moon the water ebbs,
till at the conjunction little or none is found. I have myself cut them
at all seasons, so that I here advance nothing but what I know to be
true from experience. I have also observed that the water during the
decrease appears turbid; but about the time of the full moon it is as
clear as crystal.”
The travellers had spent one whole year in reaching Quito, and the first
few days after their arrival were necessarily devoted to rest and an
exchange of civilities with the inhabitants. They then commenced their
operations with measuring a piece of ground, which was to be the base of
the whole work, and in this the remainder of the year 1736 was consumed.
The plain of Yaruqui, selected for this purpose, is situated one
thousand four hundred and ninety-four feet lower than Quito, and is four
leagues to the north-east of that city. “The quality, disposition, and
lower situation, all contribute to render it less cold than Quito.
Eastward it is defended by the lofty cordillera of Guamani and
Pambamarca, and westward by that of Pichincha. The soil is entirely
sand; so that besides the heat naturally resulting from the direct rays
of the sun, it is increased by the rays being reverberated by the two
cordilleras: hence it is also exposed to violent tempests of thunder,
lightning, and rain. But being quite open towards the north and south,
such dreadful whirlwinds form here that the whole interval is filled
with columns of sand, carried up by the rapidity and gyrations of
violent eddy winds, which sometimes produce fatal consequences; one
melancholy instance happened while we were there—an Indian, being caught
in one of these blasts, died on the spot. It is not indeed at all
strange that the quantity of sand in one of these columns should totally
stop all respiration in any living creature who has the misfortune of
being involved in it.”
The daily labour of the whole party was measuring the length of this
plain in a horizontal direction, while the inequalities of the ground
were at the same time corrected by means of a level. They commenced
their task early in the morning, and, unless when interrupted by bad
weather, or the too intense heat of the sun at noon, continued actively
employed until the evening. The plain of Cazambe had first been made
choice of; but after a short trial, during which M. Couplet, one of the
French academicians, died suddenly, this position was abandoned. It was
now determined, therefore, to continue the series of triangles to the
south of Quito, and the whole company dividing itself into two parties,
the one to which Don George Juan was attached proceeded to the mountain
of Pambamarca, while Ulloa, La Condamine, and Bouguer climbed up to the
highest summit of Pichincha. “Our first scheme,” says Ulloa, “for
shelter and lodging in these uncomfortable regions, was to pitch a
field-tent for each company; but on Pichincha this could not be done,
from the narrowness of the summit, and we were obliged to be contented
with a hut, so small that we could hardly all creep into it. Nor will
this appear strange if the reader considers the bad disposition and
smallness of the place, it being one of the loftiest crags of a rocky
mountain, one hundred toises above the highest part of the desert of
Pichincha. Such was the situation of our mansion, which, like all the
other adjacent parts, soon became covered with ice and snow. The ascent
up this stupendous rock, from the base, or the place where the mules
could come to our habitation, was so craggy as only to be climbed on
foot, and to perform it cost us four hours’ continual labour and pain,
from the violent efforts of the body, and the subtilty of the air—the
latter being such as to render respiration difficult. It was my
misfortune, when I climbed something above half-way, to be so overcome
that I fell down, and remained a long time without sense or motion, and,
I was told, with all the appearances of death in my face. Nor was I able
to proceed after coming to myself, but was obliged to return to the foot
of the rock, where our servants and instruments remained. The next day I
renewed the attempt of climbing the rock, though probably I should have
had no better success than before, had not some Indians assisted me in
the most steep and difficult places.”
The picture which Ulloa has given of their extraordinary manner of
living would lose so much of its interest by being transferred into any
other language than his own, that I cannot resist the temptation to
continue the narrative in his words: “We generally kept within one hut,”
says he; “indeed, we were obliged to do this, both on account of the
intenseness of the cold, the violence of the wind, and our being
continually involved in so thick a fog that an object at six or eight
paces was hardly discernible. When the fog cleared up, the clouds, by
their gravity, moved nearer to the surface of the earth, and on all
sides surrounded the mountain to a vast distance; representing the sea,
with our rock like an island in the centre of it. When this happened, we
heard the horrid noises of the tempests, which then discharged
themselves on Quito and the neighbouring country. We saw the lightning
issue from the clouds, and heard the thunders roll far beneath us; and
while the lower parts were involved in tempests of thunder and rain, we
enjoyed a delightful serenity; the wind was abated, the sky clear, and
the enlivening rays of the sun moderated the severity of the cold. But
our circumstances were very different when the clouds arose; their
thickness rendered respiration difficult; the snow and hail fell
continually; and the wind returned with all its violence; so that it was
impossible entirely to overcome the fears of being, together with our
hut, blown down the precipice on whose edge it was built, or of being
buried under it by the daily accumulation of ice and snow.
“The wind was often so violent in these regions, that its velocity
dazzled the sight, while our fears were increased by the dreadful
concussions of the precipice, and by the fall of enormous fragments of
rocks. These crashes were the more alarming, as no other noises are
heard in these deserts; and during the night our rest, which we so
greatly wanted, was frequently disturbed by such sudden sounds. When the
weather was any thing fair with us, and the clouds gathered about some
of the other mountains which had a connexion with our observations, so
that we could not make all the use we desired of this interval of good
weather, we left our huts to exercise ourselves, in order to keep us
warm. Sometimes we descended to some small distance; and at other times
amused ourselves with rolling large fragments of rocks down the
precipices, and these many times required the joint strength of us all,
though we oftentimes saw the same performed by the mere force of the
wind. But we always took care in our excursions not to go so far but
that, on the least appearance of the clouds gathering about our cottage,
which often happened very suddenly, we could regain our shelter. The
door of our hut was fastened with thongs of leather, and on the inside
not the smallest crevice was left unstopped; besides which it was very
compactly covered with straw. But notwithstanding all our care, the wind
penetrated through. The days were often little better than the nights,
and all the light we enjoyed was that of a lamp or two, which we kept
burning that we might distinguish one another, and improve our time as
much as possible in reading. Though our hut was small and crowded with
inhabitants, besides the heat of the lamps, yet the intenseness of the
cold was such, that every one of us was obliged to have a chafing-dish
of coals. These precautions would have rendered the rigour of the
climate supportable, had not the imminent danger of perishing by being
blown down the precipices roused us, every time it snowed, to encounter
the severity of the outward air, and sally out with shovels to free the
roof of the hut from the masses of snow that were gathering on it. Nor
would it, without this precaution, have been able to support the weight.
We were not indeed without servants and Indians, but they were so
benumbed with cold, that it was with great difficulty we could get them
out of a small tent, where they kept a continual fire; so that all we
could obtain from them was to take their turns in this labour,—and even
then they went very unwillingly about it, and consequently performed it
slowly.
“It may easily be conceived what we suffered from the asperity of such a
climate. Our feet were swelled, and so tender that we could not even
bear the heat, and walking was attended with great pain. Our hands were
covered with chilblains, our lips swelled and chopped, so that every
motion, speaking and the like, drew blood; consequently we were obliged
to observe a strict taciturnity, and were but little disposed to
laugh—an extension of the lips producing fissures, very painful for two
or three days together.
“Our common food in this inhospitable region was a little boiled rice,
with some flesh or fowl, which we procured from Quito; and instead of
fluid water, our pot was filled with ice; we had the same resource with
regard to what we drank; and while we were eating every one was obliged
to keep his plate over a chafing-dish of coals, to prevent his
provisions from freezing. The same was done with regard to the water. At
first we imagined that drinking strong liquors would diffuse a heat
through the body, and consequently render it less sensible of the
painful sharpness of the cold; but, to our surprise, we found no manner
of strength in them, nor were they any greater preservative against the
cold than common water. For this reason, together with the apprehension
that they might prove detrimental to our health, besides the danger of
contracting an ill habit, we discontinued their use; having recourse to
them but very seldom, and then sparingly. We frequently gave a small
quantity to our Indians, together with part of the provisions which were
continually sent us from Quito, besides a daily salary four times as
much as they usually earn.
“But notwithstanding all these encouragements, we found it impossible to
keep the Indians together. On their first feeling the rigours of the
climate, their thoughts were immediately turned on deserting us. The
first instance we had of this kind was so unexpected, that had not one
of a better disposition than the rest staid with us, and acquainted us
with their design, it might have proved of very bad consequence. The
affair was this:—There being upon the top of the rock no room for
pitching a tent for them, they used every evening to retire to a cave at
the foot of the mountain, where, besides a natural diminution of the
cold, they could keep a continual fire, and consequently enjoyed more
comfortable quarters than their masters. Before they withdrew at night
they fastened on the outside the door of our hut, which was so low that
it was impossible to go in or out without stooping; and as every night
the hail and snow which had fallen formed a wall against the door, it
was the business of one or two to come up early and remove this
obstruction, that when we pleased we might open the door. For though our
negro servants were lodged in a little tent, their hands and feet were
so covered with chilblains that they would rather have suffered
themselves to be killed than move. The Indians, therefore, came
constantly up to despatch this work between nine and ten in the morning;
but we had not been there above four or five days when we were not a
little alarmed to see ten, eleven, and twelve o’clock come without any
news of our labourers; when we were relieved by the honest servant
mentioned above, who had withstood the seduction of his countrymen, and
informed us of the desertion of the four others. After great difficulty
he opened a way for us to come out, when we all fell to clearing our
habitation from the masses of snow. We then sent the Indian to the
corregidor of Quito with advice of our condition, who, with equal
despatch, sent others, threatening to chastise them severely if they
were wanting in their duty.”
The fear of punishment, however, was insufficient to reconcile the
Indians to the rigours of a mountain life, and it was found necessary to
have recourse to milder regulations. On this wild rock they continued
twenty-three days, without being able to complete their observations;
for when one of the points on which the signals which formed the
triangles for measuring the degrees of the meridian enjoyed fine
weather, the others were generally hid in clouds. But at length, in the
month of December, the observations on Pichincha were completed, and
they proceeded to other points, where the same fatigues and privations
were encountered. Only the hut was now exchanged for a field-tent,
which, although in some respects more troublesome, was less inconvenient
than their Pichincha hut. Nevertheless, as the tents were necessarily
placed in exposed situations to serve as signals, they were frequently
overthrown by the violence of the wind, which rose in those wild paramos
to a pitch altogether indescribable.
Such was their manner of life from the beginning of August, 1737, to the
end of July, 1739, during which space of time one of the parties
occupied thirty-five deserts, and the other thirty-two. But by degrees
their bodies became inured to the hardships which they endured. Habit
began to reconcile them to the fearful scenery in which they existed,
and every little unaccustomed comfort which accident threw in their way
was magnified by their imaginations into splendid luxuries. “The
diminutive cabins of the Indians,” observes Ulloa, “and the small
cattle-stalls, scattered at intervals on the skirts of the mountains,
where we used to lodge in our passage from one desert to another, were
to us spacious palaces; mean villages appeared like magnificent cities;
and the conversation of a priest and two or three of his companions
charmed us like the banquet of Xenophon.”
About the end of September, 1740, while they were still busily engaged
in making astronomical observations at one of the extremities of the
arch of the meridian, which had been measured, Ulloa and Don George Juan
were suddenly called to Lima by an order of the viceroy. War had just
been declared between England and Spain, and the expedition under Lord
Anson menaced the seacoasts of the Spanish possessions in South America.
Ulloa and Juan were therefore commissioned to put the principal points
in the neighbourhood of Lima in a state of defence; after which they
obtained permission to return to Quito, to resume their scientific
observations. But scarcely had they traversed the mountains, and arrived
at the scene of their labours, when they were recalled to the coast, the
sack of Payta by the English fleet having spread a universal panic
through the country. This visit of Ulloa to Guayaquil was brief; but he
had no sooner returned to Quito than he was once more ordered to repair,
with George Juan, who had been detained in Guayaquil, to Lima. Here they
were honoured with the command of two frigates, with orders to cruise
along the coasts of Chili and the island of Juan Fernandez. The arrival
of certain Spanish reinforcements at Lima at length rendered it
practicable for them to return to their scientific occupations at Quito,
from whence all the French academicians had departed, except Godin, in
conjunction with whom they observed the comet of 1744.
They were now become impatient to revisit Europe, with the results of
their labours, and embarked at Callao, on board of two French ships,
which were about to sail by the way of Cape Horn, for Brest. The two
ships were separated by tempests. The one in which Ulloa was embarked
shortly after this fell in with two other French ships, in company with
which it was attacked by two English privateers, when it with difficulty
escaped, leaving its companions, with three millions of piastres, in
their hands. To avoid a similar fate, they now directed their course
towards the coast of North America. But on reaching the port of
Louisburg, at Cape Breton, while the crew were congratulating themselves
on their escape from so many dangers, they were compelled, without
firing a gun, to strike to the English, who had just rendered themselves
masters of that city.
Ulloa was received with distinguished humanity and politeness by
Commodore Warren, the commander of the English fleet, who invited him to
his table, and on his departure for England recommended him to the kind
treatment of the captain of the ship in which he was to sail, with
special directions that his papers should be carefully preserved. The
voyage to England was long and tedious. They arrived at Portsmouth
December 29, 1744. From the ship our traveller was conducted to Fareham,
a pleasant village, he observes, at the extremity of Portsmouth harbour,
which was appointed to be the place of his captivity, as well as of all
those who had been included in the capitulation of Louisburg. Ulloa
dwells with particular pleasure on the courtesy and generosity of
Captain Butt, of the Sunderland (the ship in which he was conveyed to
England), to all the prisoners of any rank; “whom,” says Ulloa, “he not
only admitted to his table during the voyage, but prevailed on all the
other officers to imitate his good example, and who seemed to vie in
civilities towards us, and humanity towards the inferior sort, sparing
nothing to alleviate our misfortunes. And let this remain a monument of
my gratitude to such a generous set of gentlemen.”
He then proceeds to relate, that the troubled state of the country,
occasioned by the wicked and insane expedition of the Pretender,
together with the bad conduct of some prisoners, who, contrary to the
rules of honour, abused the indulgence shown them, and violated their
parole, caused the prisoners to be deprived of several privileges, and
to be confined with greater strictness. He observes, however, that for
his own part he was treated by the commissioners, both for French and
Spanish prisoners, with such extraordinary humanity, and received so
many favours, accompanied with such politeness and cordiality, that he
became entirely easy under his misfortunes, the reflections on which
grew every day less and less painful. “The commissary of the Spanish
prisoners,” says Ulloa, “was Mr. William Rickman, under whose care,
consequently, I should have been, without the circumstance of having
been taken in a French ship. Yet, my being a Spaniard recommended me to
his kindness, which, I with gratitude own, he carried to a very great
height; and I had a large share of those acts of goodness by which he
had deserved the universal acknowledgment of the Spanish nation. For,
from the beginning of the war, and the taking of the Princessa, he
exerted all possible care for the comfort of the prisoners: and the
chief officers he even lodged at his own seat, and many others at an
adjacent farm-house, called Perbrook, about a quarter of a league from
Tichfield, on the London road, and about three miles from Fareham. He
made public and private solicitations in their behalf: he treated all
with affability, and used the greatest despatch in their several
affairs; he raised charitable contributions, which were chiefly laid out
in apparel for those of the lower class; and the officers he in the most
genteel manner furnished with money, that they might live in tolerable
decency.”
Both Mr. Brookes, commissary for the French prisoners, to which Ulloa,
as taken in a French ship, belonged, and Mr. Rickman, offered to unite
their interests in procuring him his papers to be returned. For this
purpose a petition was addressed to the Duke of Bedford, first
commissioner of the Admiralty; and “the answer,” says Ulloa, “was
entirely becoming the generosity of the nation among which the chance of
war had brought me.” The Duke of Bedford, and the other lords of the
Admiralty, “unanimously, and with pleasure, granted the contents of my
memorial; nobly adding, that they were not at war with the arts and
sciences, or their professors; that the English nation cultivated them;
and that it was the glory of its ministers and great men to protect and
encourage them.”
Upon making application Ulloa readily obtained permission to repair to
London, where, “on my first attendance,” says he, “at the office for
prisoners of war, an order was shown me from my Lord Harrington,
secretary of state, for bringing me to his house. This nobleman, having
been ambassador for some years in Spain, among his other eminent
qualifications had a great affection for the Spaniards, which he was
pleased to extend to me in a most obliging reception, and assurances
that nothing should be wanting in him to procure me my papers, or do me
any other good offices.”
Martin Folkes, president of the Royal Society of London, now likewise
interested himself in his behalf, and his papers were in consequence
restored to him. By his kindness Ulloa was introduced to many
distinguished literary men and other persons of rank and consideration,
as well as elected a member of the Royal Society. “Actions like these,”
says our traveller, “convinced me of the sincerity of the English, their
candour, their benevolence, and disinterested complaisance. I observed
the tempers, inclinations, particular customs, government, constitution,
and policy of this praiseworthy nation, which in its economical conduct
and social virtues may be a pattern to those who boast of superior
talents to all the rest of mankind.”
Shortly after this Ulloa embarked for Lisbon, and arrived at Madrid in
1746, in the beginning of the reign of Ferdinand VI., eleven years and
two months after his embarkation at Cadiz. He was received in the most
flattering manner at court, and appointed captain of a frigate and
commander of the order of St. Jago. The arrangement and composition of
his travels occupied his whole attention during the two following years;
and in 1748 his great work on South America, by which he will be
advantageously known to posterity, was published by the order and at the
expense of the government. When this was accomplished, he travelled by
order of the king over a considerable portion of Europe, collecting
during his journey knowledge useful both to the state and to the nation.
As a reward for his services, he was appointed superintendent of the
mercury mine at Guancavelica in Peru; but this did not altogether answer
his expectations. In the reign of Charles III. he was promoted to the
rank of commodore of a squadron, and was intrusted with the command of
the fleet of the Indies. In 1762 Ulloa was commissioned to take
possession of Louisiana, which had been recently ceded to Spain, and was
at the same time appointed governor; but met with so much resistance on
the part of the colonists, who disliked the change, that he was
compelled to re-embark. The remainder of his life was spent in
honourable offices and in literary and scientific labours, by which he
acquired a high degree of well-merited reputation. He died in the Isle
of Leon, on the 3d of July, 1795, in the eightieth year of his age.