Leave Port Otway--San Quintin's Sound--Gulf of Penas--Kelly Harbour--St.
Xavier Island--Death of Serjeant Lindsey--Port Xavier--Ygnacio Bay--
Channel's mouth--Bad weather--Perilous situation--Lose the yawl--Sick
list--Return to Port Otway--Thence to Port Famine--Gregory Bay--Natives--
Guanaco meat--Skunk--Condors--Brazilians--Juanico--Captain Foster--
Changes of officers.
The Beagle returned to Port Otway the following day, and in an interval of
better weather obtained the observations necessary for ascertaining the
latitude and longitude of the port, and for rating the chronometers.
Captain Stokes's journal continues on the 19th of May: "We left Port Otway,
and as soon as we had cleared its entrance, steered E.N.E. across the gulf;
leaving to the northward all that cluster of islands, distinguished in the
chart as the 'Marine Islands,' and went to within a mile from the eastern
shore. Thence we ran four miles and a half parallel with the direction of
coast E.S.E. (mag.), at the mean distance of a mile off shore. The aspect
of the eastern and western portions of this gulf is very different, and the
comparison is much to the disadvantage of the eastern. Ranges of bare,
rugged, rocky mountains now presented themselves, and where wood was seen,
it was always stunted and distorted. A long swell rolled in upon the shore,
and every thing seemed to indicate a stormy and inclement coast. There are
a few bays and coves, in which is anchorage depth, with a pretty good
bottom of dark coarse sand: but rock-weed in large patches, seen in some of
them, denoted foul ground; and they are all more or less exposed, and
extremely unsafe. As night advanced, the weather became rainy and thick; so
having reached a bight which seemed less insecure than others that we
passed, I hauled in, and at about seven P.M., guided only by the gradual
decrease of our soundings, from {174} fourteen to eight fathoms, and the
noise of the surf, came to an anchor.
"Next morning (20th) we found that we had anchored in a small bay, at about
half a mile from a shingle beach, on which a furious surf was breaking so
heavily as to prevent our landing any where. We were completely exposed to
S.W. winds, with a heavy rolling sea; and the surf on all points cut off
communication with the shore. A breeze from the S.W. would have rendered it
difficult to get out, and would have exposed us to imminent hazard. It is
called on the chart Bad Bay. We left it eagerly, and proceeded to trace the
coast to the E.S.E., until we were nearly abreast of a moderately high and
thickly-wooded island, called Purcell Island. We passed to the northward of
Purcell Island, leaving on the left a rock only a few feet above the
surface of the sea, which lies about midway between that island and the
main land. As we advanced to the eastward, a large and very remarkable
field of ice was seen lying on the low part of the coast, which, at a
distance, we took for a dense fog hanging over it, as nothing of the kind
was observable in any other part. When nearly abreast of San Xavier Island,
a deep sound was observed to the left, or north, which we concluded was the
San Quintin Sound of the Spanish chart: it seemed to be about five-miles in
breadth, and following a westerly direction. We kept sight of the Sugar
Loaf, and other points we had fixed, until more could be established, which
enabled us to chart the coast as we went along. My next object was to trace
the Sound of San Quintin to its termination, and at nightfall we succeeded
in getting an anchorage at the entrance.
"On the 21st we proceeded up the sound, passing to the northward of Dead
Tree Island. Our soundings, until abreast of it, were from sixteen to ten
fathoms, on a mud bottom; it then shoaled to four fathoms, and after
running about three miles in that depth, we came to an anchor at the
distance of a mile from the north shore of the sound, in four fathoms.
"Exceedingly bad weather detained us at this anchorage. From the time of
our arrival, on the evening of the 21st, {175} until midnight of the 22d,
it rained in torrents, without the intermission of a single minute, the
wind being strong and squally at W., W.N.W., and N.W.
"When the weather improved, on the 23d, we weighed, and made sail along the
northern side of the sound, for the purpose of ascertaining whether it
admitted of a passage to the northward. We kept within a mile of the shore,
sounding from eight to fifteen fathoms, generally on a sandy bottom; and a
run of seven miles brought us within three miles of the bottom of the
inlet, the depth of water being four fathoms, on sand. The termination of
this sound is continuous low land, with patches of sandy beach, over which,
in the distance, among mountains of great height, we were again able to
make out and take the bearing of that remarkable one, named the 'Dome of
St. Paul's.' The shores of this inlet are thickly wooded; the land near
them is, for the most part, low, but rises into mountains, or rather hills,
from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in height, from which many streams of
water descend. As soon as a ship has passed Dead Tree Island, she becomes
land-locked; and as in all parts of the sound there is anchorage depth,
with a muddy or sandy bottom, the advantages offered to shipping would be
of great consequence in parts of the world more frequented than the Gulf of
Penas.
"Whales were numerous, and seals were seen in this inlet, now called the
Gulf of San Estevan.
"Hence we went to Kelly Harbour, at the north-eastern side of the Gulf of
Penas, four miles N.E. of Xavier Island. The land around it is rocky and
mountainous, but by no means bare of wood. Near the entrance it is low, as
compared with the adjacent land; but in the interior are lofty snow-capped
mountains.
"A large field of ice, lying on the low land near Kelly Harbour, was
remarkable. There was none on the low grounds at the other (southern) side
of the port, though it was almost the winter solstice at the time of our
visit.
"Another day and night of incessant rain. In the morning of the 25th we had
some showers of hail, and at daylight found {176} that a crust of ice,
about the thickness of a dollar, had been formed in all parts of the
harbour. The water at our anchorage being fresh at half-tide, was, no
doubt, in favour of this rapid congelation. Lieutenant Skyring having
completed the examination of the harbour, we left it and steered between
St. Xavier Island and the mainland, through a fine bold channel, nearly
four miles wide, with a depth of more than thirty fathoms. The land on both
sides is closely wooded, and rises into high mountains. About dusk we stood
into Port Xavier, a little bight, with a sandy beach, on the eastern side
of the island; and, at a distance of two cables' length from the beach,
anchored for the night in seventeen fathoms.
"(26th). This sandy beach extended about half a mile between the points of
the bay, and, at fifty yards from the water, was bounded by thick woodland,
which rose with a rapid ascent to the height of a thousand feet. The trees
were like those in the neighbourhood of Port Otway, and were stout and
well-grown. A tree, large enough for a frigate's topmast, might be selected
close to the shore. The Winter's-bark tree attains here a greater size than
I had before seen. One, which was felled by our wood-cutters, measured
eighty-seven feet in length, and was three feet five inches in
circumference. All the trees were in full foliage and verdure, though the
season corresponded to the latter part of November in our northern
latitudes. At the south end of the sandy beach was a stream of fresh water,
several yards in width, and various waterfalls descended from the
mountains. The shore to the southward was composed of fragments of granite,
lying at the base of a lead-coloured clay cliff, at least three hundred
feet in height. In this cliff the mountain-torrents had formed deep chasms,
and strewed the beach with its debris, and with uprooted timber. The only
living creatures seen were steamer-ducks, king-fishers, and
turkey-buzzards.
"While on shore, I received a melancholy message, announcing the death of
Serjeant Lindsey, of the Royal Marines. During the last few days he had
suffered from inflammation of the bowels, which brought his existence to a
close.
{177}
"The following day (27th) a grave was dug, and we discharged the last sad
duties to our departed shipmate. A wooden cross was erected at the head of
his grave, on which was an inscription to his memory: we also named the
south point of the bay after him. About noon we left Port Xavier, and
coasted the island, at the mean distance of a mile, examining it for
anchorages, until, after a run of eight miles, we reached its south point.
For the first four or five miles of that distance, the coast of the island
consisted of a high steep cliff, having at its base a narrow beach,
composed of various-sized masses of rock. In the interior there were
heights, rising twelve or fourteen hundred feet, wooded nearly to the
summits, with many streams of water descending from them; but for the
remainder of the distance the coast was low, and the wood stunted and
scanty. All along the shore rolled a heavy surf, that would have rendered
any attempt to land exceedingly hazardous; there was no place fit for
anchorage, except a small bight, near the extreme south point, into which
we stood, and with some difficulty succeeded in anchoring at a cable's
length from the shore. The bay proved to be that called by the Spanish
missionary voyagers 'Ygnacio Bay.' Over the south point,--a narrow tongue
of land, about five hundred yards across, with rocks and breakers
stretching off shore, to the distance of two miles,--we took bearings and
angles to various fixed points in the northern part of the gulf. The
latitude, chronometric differences of longitude, and magnetic variation,
were determined on shore at this southern point.
"Our observations being completed, we left this anchorage; and as it is
little likely to be visited again, it will be enough to say that it is
exceedingly dangerous. Nothing would have induced me to enter it, but the
duty of examining the coast for anchorage, and the danger of remaining
under sail close to an unexplored shore.
"Under an impression that the island of St. Xavier[110] was the {178} scene
of the Wager's wreck, I wished to examine its western side; but a strong
N.N.E. wind did not permit my doing so, without risking the loss of more
time than could be spared for an object of mere curiosity. I steered,
therefore, to the south-eastward for an inlet, which proved to be the
Channel's Mouth of the Spanish charts, and reached it, after running
seventeen miles from the south end of Xavier Island. We got no soundings
with ninety fathoms of line, when at its entrance; but making no doubt that
we should get anchorage within, we left, at the distance of half a mile,
the islets of the northern point; passed between two others distant apart
only one-fifth of a mile, and shortly after anchored in twenty fathoms,
sheltered by an island to the westward, but with rocky islets around us in
all directions, except the S.E., some of which were less than a cable's
length from us.[111] Here we were detained until the 10th of June by the
worst weather I ever experienced: we rode with three anchors down and the
topmasts struck; and though we lay within a couple of hundred yards of the
islands and rocks, and less than half a mile from the shores of the inlet,
such a furious surf broke on them all, that it was but rarely a boat could
land, even in the least exposed situations the inlet afforded. The evening
of our arrival was fine, and we put up the observatory tent, on the island
to the westward of us; but the weather was so bad, during the next day,
that we could effect no landing to remove it, although we anticipated the
result that followed, namely, its being washed away.
"In the short intervals of the horrible weather that prevailed, boats were
sent to the northern shore of the inlet, for the purpose of procuring water
and fuel; but though they sometimes succeeded, by dint of great
perseverance, in landing through a raging surf, it was but seldom they
could embark the small casks (barecas) which had been filled, or the wood
they had cut.
"Upon this shore the master observed remains of some Indian wigwams, that
seemed to have been long forsaken, and {179} he described them to be
exactly like those we had hitherto met to the southward.
"This was the northernmost point at which we noticed traces of human
beings.
"Finding the boats' crews suffer much from their unavoidable exposure
during continually wet weather, I ordered some canvas to be given to each
man for a frock and trowsers, to be painted at the first opportunity, as a
protection against rain and spray.
"Nothing could be more dreary than the scene around us. The lofty, bleak,
and barren heights that surround the inhospitable shores of this inlet,
were covered, even low down their sides, with dense clouds, upon which the
fierce squalls that assailed us beat, without causing any change: they
seemed as immovable as the mountains where they rested.
"Around us, and some of them distant no more than two-thirds of a cable's
length, were rocky islets, lashed by a tremendous surf; and, as if to
complete the dreariness and utter desolation of the scene, even birds
seemed to shun its neighbourhood. The weather was that in which (as
Thompson emphatically says) 'the soul of man dies in him.'
"In the course of our service since we left England, we have often been
compelled to take up anchorages, exposed to great risk and danger. But the
Beagle's present situation I deemed by far the most perilous to which she
had been exposed: her three anchors were down in twenty-three fathoms of
water, on a bad bottom of sand, with patches of rock. The squalls were
terrifically violent, and astern of her, distant only half a cable's
length, were rocks and low rocky islets, upon which a furious surf raged.
"I might use Bulkeley's words in describing the weather in this
neighbourhood, and nearly at this season: 'Showers of rain and hail, which
beat with such violence against a man's face, that he can hardly withstand
it.'
"On the 10th, the wind being moderate, and the weather better, preparations
were made to quit this horrid place. We put to sea, with a moderate breeze
from N.b.W., which {180} increased rapidly to a strong gale; and scarcely
were we fairly freed from the channel, than we found ourselves in a heavy
confused sea. Anxious to clear the entrance, I had not waited to hoist in
the yawl, with which we had weighed one of our anchors, expecting to find
smooth water as we went out; but the sea we met made it unsafe to tow her,
and while hauling up to hoist her in, she was so badly stove by blows
received from the violent motion of the ship, that we were obliged to cut
her adrift. This was a heavy loss. She was a beautiful boat, twenty-eight
feet in length,--pulled and sailed well, and was roomy, light, and buoyant;
her loss was second only to that of the ship.
"We endeavoured to clear the Guaianeco Islands, by carrying a heavy press
of sail, but soon after midnight were obliged to furl the reefed mainsail.
Before daylight the wind shifted suddenly to W.b.N., taking us aback by a
violent squall, with much vivid lightning and heavy rain. Our admirable
little vessel paid off without sustaining any damage; but for a minute her
situation was critical. At daylight, the land of Cape Tres Montes bore W.
1/2 N. (magnetic), distant four leagues. The violence of the gale we had
just had put it out of our power to clear the gulf; and, from the state to
which we were reduced by the loss of our yawl, both gigs being in bad
condition, and our cutter so much stove as to be useless, I considered that
it would not be justifiable to attempt proceeding in a lone ship to an
unknown and most stormy coast, without a single efficient boat; so I
resolved to hasten to Port Otway, and put the boats into an effective
state. We had baffling winds all day; but in the evening succeeded in
reaching the harbour, and anchoring nearly in our old berth. On the 13th
and 14th, we had a continued hard gale, with the usual accompaniment of
heavy rain. The carpenters were, however, kept constantly at work to render
the cutter effective. On the 15th, the state of the sick list caused me to
require from the surgeon, his opinion as to the 'necessity of a temporary
cessation of surveying operations.' Mr. Bynoe's reply stated 'that in
consequence of great exposure to a long-continued succession of {181}
incessant and heavy rain, accompanied by strong gales, the health of the
ship's company had been seriously affected, particularly with pulmonic
complaints, catarrhal, and rheumatic affections; and that, as a recurrence
of them would probably prove fatal in many instances, a temporary cessation
would be of the greatest advantage to the crew, by affording an opportunity
of recruiting their health.'
"On receiving the above communication from the surgeon, I ordered the yards
and topmasts to be struck, and the ship covered over with sails. Precaution
was used to prevent the people from being subjected to frequent exposure,
by not employing any of them in boats, except once a day in procuring
muscles, and every thing was avoided that could in the least interfere with
the recovery of their health: but this place is exceedingly ill adapted for
the winter quarters of a ship's company, as the woods that surround it,
down even to the water's edge, allow no space for exercise on shore, and
there is neither game nor fish to be procured, except shell-fish; of which,
fortunately (muscles and clams), we found an abundance, and they proved
useful in removing symptoms of scurvy, besides affording a change of diet.
The place being destitute of inhabitants, is without that source of
recreation, which intercourse with any people, however uncivilized, would
afford a ship's company after a laborious and disagreeable cruise in these
dreary solitudes. Every port along this coast is alike ill suited for a
winter's residence, and it was only our peculiar situation that induced me
to determine on making a short stay at this place."
* * * * *
Here poor Captain Stokes's remarks and notes end. Those who have been
exposed to one of such trials as his, upon an unknown lee shore, during the
worst description of weather, will understand and appreciate some of those
feelings which wrought too powerfully upon his excitable mind.
The Beagle remained quiet until the 29th of June, when the surgeon reported
"the crew sufficiently healthy to perform their duties without any material
injury to their constitutions." {182} Leaving Port Otway, she steered along
the coast with, strange to say, easterly winds and fine weather, which
enabled Lieut. Skyring to add much to the survey of the coast of Madre de
Dios. Captain Stokes now began to show symptoms of a malady, that had
evidently been brought on by the dreadful state of anxiety he had gone
through during the survey of the Gulf of Penas. He shut himself up in his
cabin, becoming quite listless, and inattentive to what was going on; and
after entering the Strait of Magalhaens, on his return to Port Famine, he
delayed at several places without any apparent reason; conduct quite
opposite to what his would naturally have been, had he then been of sound
mind. At last, want of provisions obliged him to hasten to Port Famine; and
the day on which he arrived every article of food was expended.
The fatal event, which had cast an additional gloom over every one, decided
our quitting the Strait. Both ships were immediately prepared, and we
sailed on the 16th August; but previously, I appointed Lieutenant Skyring
to act as commander of the Beagle; Mr. Flinn to be master of the Adventure;
and Mr. Millar, second master of the Adventure, to act as master of the
Beagle. The day we sailed, Mr. Flinn was taken ill; and, Lieutenant Wickham
being on the sick list, I was the only commissioned officer able to keep
the deck. As the wind was from the N.W., we were obliged to beat to
windward all night, and the next morning were off Sandy Point; but it blew
so very strong from the westward, and the weather was so thick from
snow-squalls, which passed in rapid succession, that we bore up, and
anchored in Freshwater Bay, where the ships were detained by northerly
winds until the 21st, when we proceeded; the wind, however, again opposing,
we anchored about half a mile from the shore, in a bight, seven miles
southward of Sandy Point. The following day we were underweigh early, and
reached Gregory Bay. When off Elizabeth Island, I despatched the Beagle to
Pecket's Harbour to recall the Adelaide, in which Lieutenant Graves had
been sent to procure guanaco meat. The Beagle worked through, between
Elizabeth Island and Cape Negro, and was seen by {183} us at anchor off
Pecket's Harbour before we entered the Second Narrow.
Upon our anchoring under Cape Gregory, two or three Patagonians were seen
on the beach, and before half an hour had elapsed others joined them. By
sunset several toldos, or tents, were erected, and a large party had
arrived. When the Adelaide first went to Pecket's Harbour, Mr. Tarn told
the Indians that the Adventure would be at Gregory Bay in twenty-five days,
and, accidentally, we arrived punctually to the time. The Patagonians must
have been on their way to meet us, for they could not have travelled from
Pecket's Harbour in the short space of time that we were in sight. To their
great mortification, however, we held no communication with them that
evening, and the next day the weather was so bad we could not even lower a
boat. At noon the wind blew harder than I had ever witnessed; but since we
were on good holding-ground, and the water was smooth, no danger was
anticipated.
As the snow-squalls cleared off, we looked towards the Patagonians, with
the full expectation of seeing their huts blown down:--to our astonishment,
they had withstood the storm, although placed in a very exposed situation.
We counted twelve or fourteen of them, and judging by our former experience
of the number belonging to each, there must have been, at least, one
hundred and fifty persons collected. During the gale they kept close; and
it was only now and then that a solitary individual was observed to go from
one toldo to another.
The weather having moderated, the Beagle and Adelaide joined us on the
following day. They rode the gale out, without accident, off the entrance
of Pecket's Harbour. The next morning being fine, we prepared to proceed;
but previous to weighing I landed, and communicated with our old
acquaintances. Maria was with them, and, if possible, dirtier, and more
avaricious than ever. We collected the guanaco meat they had brought for
us; distributed a few parting presents, and then returned on board.
The Adelaide brought sixteen hundred pounds of meat, which, with what was
first obtained, amounted to four thousand {184} pounds weight; and cost
altogether ten pounds of tobacco, forty biscuits, and six pocket-knives. At
first a biscuit was considered equivalent to forty or fifty pounds of meat;
but as the demand increased, the price rose four or five hundred per cent.
With the Patagonians were two of Mr. Low's crew, who had left him. They
were Portuguese, in a miserable state, and appeared to be thoroughly
ashamed of being the companions of such a dirty set: they could not speak
English, and could give us very little information. They had not then
assumed the Indian garb, although, from the state of their clothes, they
would very soon be obliged to adopt it.
At Pecket's Harbour a few words of the native language were collected,
which are very different from those given by Falkner, in his description of
the Patagonian natives: he says himself, that the language of the northern
Indians differs materially from that of the 'Yacana Cunnees.'
During Lieutenant Graves's communication with the natives, at Pecket's
Harbour, he obtained some interesting information respecting these Indians,
which will be given in a subsequent part of the work.
The Adelaide brought me a few very gratifying additions to my zoological
collection, among which was the Zorillo, or Skunk, of the Pampas; differing
in no way whatever from the species found about the River Plata, in such
numbers as to impregnate the air with their disagreeable odour for many
miles around.
I have frequently found the scent of this offensive little animal
distinctly perceptible when I was on board the Adventure, lying at anchor
about two miles from Monte Video, with the wind blowing from the land.[112]
{185}
A very large condor was shot by one of the Adelaide's party, which
measured, in length, four feet three inches and a half, and nine feet two
inches between the extremities of the wings. It was presented to the
British Museum. Many exaggerated accounts of this bird have been given by
old voyagers; but the largest dimensions stated, of whose accuracy there
exists no doubt, are those of one that was preserved in the Leverian
Museum, which measured thirteen feet one inch, from wing to wing. This,
however, must have been an old bird; for the one we killed is larger than
the usual size of specimens which have been obtained. Molina states, in his
account of this bird, vol. i. p. 298, that the largest he ever saw measured
fourteen feet and some inches (Spanish measure), from the tip of one wing
to that of the other. M. Humboldt also gives a detailed description.
It is with the condor, says this celebrated voyager, "as with the
Patagonian, and many other objects of natural history; the more they are
examined, the more they diminish in size." They inhabit the highest
mountains of the Andes, and only descend to the plains when pressed by
hunger. Frequently, in troops, they attack cattle, deer, guanacoes, and
even the puma, and always succeed in killing them; but their principal food
is carrion, of which, in a country so abundantly stocked with quadrupeds,
there is probably no want.
Our departure from the Strait was attended with beautiful weather; the moon
was full, and the wind fair and moderate. {186} Cape Virgins was passed
soon after sunset, and we proceeded on our course with rapidity.
The timely supply of guanaco meat had certainly checked the scurvy, for we
had no new cases added to the number of the sick, now amounting to twenty.
The Beagle was not so sickly; but, during the last cruise, upwards of forty
cases, principally pulmonic, had occurred, and several were not yet
recovered. On the passage, a man fell overboard from the Beagle, at night,
and was drowned.
In latitude 45deg S. we were delayed three days, by northerly winds and
damp foggy weather, after which a fresh S.W. gale carried us into the River
Plata. Having obtained good chronometer sights in the afternoon, we steered
on through the night, intending to pass to the westward of the Archimedes
Shoal; which would have been rather a rash step, had we not been well
assured of the correctness of our chronometrical reckoning. At this time
Brazil and Buenos Ayres were at war, and some of the blockading squadron of
the former were generally to be met with in the mouth of the river; but we
saw none, until half-past two in the morning, when several vessels were
observed at anchor to leeward, and we were soon close to a squadron of
brigs and schooners, whose number was evident by a confusion of lights,
rockets, and musketry, on board every vessel. I bore down to pass within
hail of the nearest, which proved to be the Commodore's, the Maranao of
eighteen guns; and on approaching, explained who and what we were; but they
were so confused, I could not even make myself understood. The breeze, at
the time, had fallen so light, that, fearing to get foul of the brig, the
ship was hove up in the wind, and the anchor ordered to be let go.
Unluckily a stopper was foul, and before another bower could drop, the
Brazilians had fired several muskets into us, happily without doing any
mischief; and threatened us, if we did not immediately anchor, with a
broadside, which, in their utter confusion, I am astonished they did not
fire.
[Illustration: A. Earle T. A. Prior
MONTE VIDEO.--CUSTOM HOUSE.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838]
{187} Having anchored, and lowered the topsails, I sent a boat to inform
the Brazilian who we were, and to request, that in consequence of the
number of our sick (we had only ten serviceable men on deck), we might not
be detained, as even a few hours might prove of serious consequence; but
all I could urge was unavailing, and we were detained until daylight with
trifling excuses. We were so situated, that unless the brig veered her
cable, or dropped out of our way, we could not move without getting foul of
her, else I should have proceeded without permission. After daylight, the
brig gave us room, by tripping her anchor; and upon an officer coming on
board to release us, I told him my opinion of the affair, and said I should
report the captain's conduct to his admiral. This report was afterwards
made, in a very spirited manner, by Captain Henry Dundas, of H.M.S.
Sapphire; but the admiral defended the conduct of his officer by saying
that he had merely acted, "magna componere parvis," as an English
blockading squadron would have done in a similar case.
Whether the act was borne out, or not, by the law or custom of blockade, it
was very uncivil; and one for which, after the explanation given, and the
proofs offered, there could not be the slightest occasion. Owing to this
detention, we did not reach the anchorage at Monte Video until too late in
the day to procure refreshments for the sick. We found, to our sorrow, that
fresh provisions were so extremely scarce, owing to the war, that none
could be procured for our ships' companies; and had it not been for the
kindness of Senor Juanico, a well-known, and highly esteemed resident at
Monte Video, who supplied us plentifully with bitter (Seville) oranges, we
might have been much distressed. The free use, however, of this fruit alone
caused a rapid change in the health of those affected by scurvy, and in
less than a week every man was at his duty.
A few days after our arrival, through the intervention of the British
minister, a peace was concluded between the belligerents, in which Buenos
Ayres gained all it had contended for, and Brazil gave up what she had so
imperiously demanded.
I was extremely gratified by meeting, at this port, the late Captain Henry
Foster, in H.M.S. Chanticleer, on his pendulum voyage. He was established
at an observatory on a small island, called Rat, or Rabbit Island, whither
I lost no {188} time in proceeding, and found him deeply engaged in that
series of observations which has reflected so much honour upon his memory.
Before he sailed, I made an arrangement to meet the Chanticleer, either at
Staten Land or Cape Horn, for the purpose of supplying her with provisions,
to enable him to proceed thence to the Cape of Good Hope, without returning
to Monte Video.
On the 13th of October, we sailed for Rio de Janeiro to procure some
stores, which had been sent from England for our use, and to be caulked and
refitted. The Beagle remained at Monte Video, to prepare for our next
cruise. Before we were ready to leave Rio de Janeiro, the
Commander-in-chief, Sir Robert Otway, arrived from Bahia, in his flag-ship,
the Ganges. Sir Robert acquainted me, that he considered it necessary for
the Beagle to be hove down and repaired;--that he intended to supersede
Lieutenant Skyring; and had sent the requisite orders to Monte Video. When
the Beagle arrived, Lieutenant Robert Fitz Roy, flag lieutenant of the
Ganges, was appointed as commander; Mr. J. Kempe, mate, as lieutenant; and
Mr. M. Murray, second master of the Ganges, as master.
Although this arrangement was undoubtedly the prerogative of the
Commander-in-chief, and I had no reason to complain of the selection he had
made to fill the vacancies, yet it seemed hard that Lieutenant Skyring, who
had in every way so well earned his promotion, should be deprived of an
appointment to which he very naturally considered himself entitled.
The conduct of Lieutenant Skyring, throughout the whole of his service in
the Beagle,--especially during the survey of the Gulf of Penas, and the
melancholy illness of his captain,--deserved the highest praise and
consideration; but he was obliged to return to his former station as
assistant surveyor: and, to his honour be it said, with an equanimity and
good-will, which showed his thorough zeal for the service.
Captain FitzRoy was considered qualified to command the Beagle: and
although I could not but feel much for the bitterness of Lieutenant
Skyring's disappointment, I had no other cause for dissatisfaction.
[Illustration: A. Earle S. Bull
CORCOVADO MOUNTAIN, RIO DE JANEIRO.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838]
* * * * *
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