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Ernest Scott >> Laperouse
"Had it been possible to land, there was no way of getting into the
interior part of the island but by ascending for thirty or forty yards
the rapid stream of some torrents, which had formed gullies. Beyond
these natural barriers the island was covered with pines and carpeted
with the most beautiful verdure. It is probable that we should then
have met with some culinary vegetables, and this hope increased our
desire of visiting a land where Captain Cook had landed with the
greatest facility. He, it is true, was here in fine weather, that had
continued for several days; whilst we had been sailing in such heavy
seas that for eight day, our ports had been shut and our dead-lights
in. From the ship I watched the motions of the boats with my glass; and
seeing, as night approached, that they had found no convenient place
for landing, I made the signal to recall them, and soon after gave
orders for getting under way. Perhaps I should have lost much time had
I waited for a more favourable opportunity: and the exploring of
this island was not worth such a sacrifice."
At eight in the evening the ships got under way, and at day-break on
the following morning sail was crowded for Botany Bay.
Chapter VII.
AT BOTANY BAY.
When, in 1787, the British Government entrusted Captain Arthur Phillip
with a commission to establish a colony at Botany Bay, New South Wales,
they gave him explicit directions as to where he should locate the
settlement. "According to the best information which we have obtained,"
his instructions read, "Botany Bay appears to be the most eligible
situation upon the said coast for the first establishment, possessing a
commodious harbour and other advantages which no part of the said coast
hitherto discovered affords." But Phillip was a trustworthy man who, in
so serious a matter as the choice of a site for a town, did not follow
blindly the commands of respectable elderly gentlemen thousands of
miles away. It was his business to found a settlement successfully. To
do that he must select the best site.
After examining Botany Bay, he decided to take a trip up the coast and
see if a better situation could not be found. On the 21st January,
1788, he entered Port Jackson with three boats, and found there "the
finest harbour in the world, in which a thousand sail of the line may
ride in the most perfect security." He fixed upon a cove "which I
honoured with the name of Sydney." and decided that that was
there he would "plant." Every writer of mediaeval history who has had
occasion to refer to the choice by Constantine the Great of Byzantium,
afterwards Constantinople, as his capital, has extolled his judgment
and prescience. Constantine was an Emperor, and could do as he would.
Arthur Phillip was an official acting under orders. We can never
sufficiently admire the wisdom he displayed when, exercising his own
discretion, he decided upon Port Jackson. True, he had a great
opportunity, but his signal merit is that he grasped it when it was
presented, that he gave more regard to the success of his task than to
the letter of his instructions.
While he was making the search, the eleven vessels composing the First
Fleet lay in Botany Bay. He returned on the evening of the 23rd, and
immediately gave orders that the whole company should as soon as
possible sail for Port Jackson, declaring it to be, in King's quaint
words, "a very proper place to form an establisht. in."
To the great astonishment of the Fleet, on the 24th, two strange ships
made their appearance to the south of Solander Point, a projection from
the peninsula on which now stands the obelisk in memory of Cook's
landing. What could they be? Some guessed that they were English
vessels with additional stores. Some supposed that they were Dutch,
"coming after us to oppose our landing." Nobody expected to see any
ships in these untraversed waters, and we can easily picture the
amazement of officers, crews, and convicts when the white sails
appeared. The more timid speculated on the possibility of attack, and
there were "temporary apprehensions, accompanied by a multiplicity of
conjectures, many of them sufficiently ridiculous."
Phillip, however, remembered hearing that the French had an expedition
of discovery either in progress or contemplation. He was the first to
form a right opinion about them, but, wishing to be certain, sent the
SUPPLY out of the bay to get a nearer view and hoist the British
colours. Lieutenant Ball, in command of that brig, after reconnoitring,
reported that the ships were certainly not English. They were either
French, Spanish or Portuguese. He could distinctly see the white field
of the flag they flew, "but they were at too great a distance to
discover if there was anything else on it." The flag, of course, showed
the golden lilies of France on a white ground. One of the ships, King
records, "wore a CHEF D'ESCADRE'S pennant," that is, a commodore's.
This information satisfied Phillip, who was anxious to lose no time in
getting his people ashore at Sydney Cove. He, therefore, determined to
sail in the SUPPLY on the 25th, to make preliminary arrangements,
leaving Captain Hunter of the SIRIUS to convoy the Fleet round as soon
as possible. The wind, just then, was blowing too strong for them to
work out of the Bay.
Meanwhile, Laperouse, with the BOUSSOLE and the ASTROLABE, was meeting
with heavy weather in his attempt to double Point Solander. The
wind blew hard from that quarter, and his ships were too heavy sailers
to force their passage against wind and current combined. The whole of
the 24th was spent in full sight of Botany Bay, which they could not
enter. But their hearts were cheered by the spectacle of the pennants
and ensigns on the eleven British vessels, plainly seen at intervals
within, and the prospect of meeting Europeans again made them impatient
to fetch their anchorage.
The SIRIUS was just about to sail when the French vessels entered the
Bay at nine in the morning of January 26, but Captain Hunter
courteously sent over a lieutenant and midshipman, with his compliments
and offers of such assistance as it was in his power to give. "I
despatched an officer," records Laperouse, "to return my thanks to
Captain Hunter, who by this time had his anchor a-peak and his topsails
hoisted, telling him that my wants were confined to wood and water, of
which we could not fail in this Bay; and I was sensible that vessels
intended to settle a colony at such a distance from Europe could not be
of any assistance to navigators." The English lieutenant, according to
Laperouse, "appeared to make a great mystery of Commodore Phillip's
plan, and we did not take the liberty of putting any questions to him
on the subject." It was not the business of a junior officer to give
unauthorised information, but perhaps his manner made a greater mystery
of the Governor's plans than the circumstances required.
It was at Kamchatka that the French had learnt that the British
were establishing a settlement in New South Wales; but Laperouse, when
he arrived at Botany Bay, had no definite idea as to the progress they
had made. According to Lieutenant-Colonel Paterson, he expected to find
a town built and a market established. Instead of that he found the
first colonists abandoning the site where it was originally intended
that they should settle, and preparing to fix their abode at another
spot. But after he had seen something of Botany Bay he expressed
himself as "convinced of the propriety and absolute necessity of the
measure."
The later relations between the English and French were of the most
pleasant kind. It does not appear from the writings of those who have
left records that Phillip and Laperouse ever met, or that the latter
ever saw the beginnings of Sydney. His ships certainly never entered
Port Jackson. But we learn from Captain Tench that "during their stay
in the port" (i.e. in Botany Bay) "the officers of the two nations had
frequent opportunities of testifying their mutual regard by visits and
other interchanges of friendship and esteem;" and Laperouse gratified
the English especially "by the feeling manner in which he always
mentioned the name and talents of Captain Cook."
Not only in what he wrote with an eye to publication, but in his
private correspondence, Laperouse expressed his gratification at the
friendly relations established. He spoke of "frequent intercourse"
with the English, and said that "to the most polite attentions
they have added every offer of service in their power; and it was not
without regret that we saw them depart, almost immediately upon our
arrival, for Port Jackson, fifteen miles to the northward of this
place. Commodore Phillip had good reason to prefer that port, and he
has left us sole masters of this bay, where our long-boats are already
on the stocks."
The fullest account is given in the journal of Lieutenant King,
afterwards (1800-6) Governor of New South Wales. On February 1 Phillip
sent him in a cutter, in company with Lieutenant Dawes of the Marines,
to visit Laperouse, "and to offer him whatever he might have occasion
for." King relates that they were "received with the greatest
politeness and attention by Monsieur de Laperouse and his officers." He
accepted an invitation to remain during the day with the French, to
dine with the Commodore, and to return to Port Jackson next morning.
The complete history of the voyage was narrated to him, including of
course the tragic story of the massacre of de Langle and his
companions.
After dinner on the BOUSSOLE, King was taken ashore, where he found the
French "quite established, having thrown round their tents a stockade,
guarded by two small guns." This defence was needed to protect the
frames of the two new longboats, which were being put together, from
the natives; and also, it would appear, from a few escaped convicts,
"whom he had dismissed with threats, giving them a day's
provision to carry them back to ye settlement." Laperouse himself, in
his history--in the very last words of it, in fact--complains that
"we had but too frequent opportunities of hearing news of the English
settlement, the deserters from which gave us a great deal of trouble
and embarrassment."
We learn from King a little about the Pere Receveur--a very little,
truly, but sufficient to make us wish to know more. From the
circumstance that his quarters were on the ASTROLABE, and that,
therefore, he was not brought very much under the notice of Laperouse,
we read scarcely anything about him in the commander's book. Once
during the voyage some acids used by him for scientific purposes
ignited, and set fire to the ship, but the danger was quickly
suppressed. This incident, and that of the wounding of Receveur at
Manua, are nearly all we are told about him from the commander. But he
struck King as being "a man of letters and genius." He was a collector
of natural curiosities, having under his care "a great number of
philosophical instruments." King's few lines, giving the impression
derived from a necessarily brief conversation, seem to bring the Abbe
before us in a flash. "A man of letters and genius": how gladly we
would know more of one of whom those words could be written! Receveur
died shortly before Laperouse sailed away, and was buried at the foot
of a tree, to which were nailed a couple of boards bearing an
inscription. Governor Phillip, when the boards fell down, had
the inscription engraved on a copper plate. The tomb, which is now so
prominent an object at Botany Bay, was erected by the Baron de
Bougainville in 1825. The memorials to the celebrated navigator and the
simple scholar stand together.
King, in common with Tench, records the admiring way in which Laperouse
spoke of Cook. He "informed me that every place where he has touched or
been near, he found all the astronomical and nautical works of Captain
Cook to be very exact and true, and concluded by saying, 'Enfin,
Monsieur Cook a tant fait qu'il ne m'a rien laisse a faire que d'
admirer ses oeuvres.'" (In short, Mr. Cook has done so much that he has
left me nothing to do but to admire his works).
There is very little more to tell about those few weeks spent at Botany
Bay before the navigator and his companions "vanished trackless into
blue immensity," as Carlyle puts it. A fragment of conversation is
preserved by Tench. A musket was fired one day, and the natives
marvelled less at the noise than at the fact that the bullet made a
hole in a piece of bark at which it was aimed. To calm them, "an
officer whistled the air of 'Malbrook,' which they appeared highly
charmed with, and greeted him with equal pleasure and readiness. I may
remark here," adds the Captain of Marines, "what I was afterwards told
by Monsieur de Perousse" (so he mis-spells the name) "that the natives
of California, as throughout all the isles of the Pacific Ocean,
and in short wherever he had been, seemed equally touched and delighted
with this little plaintive air." It is gratifying to be able to record
Captain Tench's high opinion of the efficacy of the tune, which is
popularly known nowadays as "We won't go home till morning." One has
often heard of telling things "to the Marines." This gallant officer,
doubtless, used to whistle them, to a "little plaintive air."
It was the practice of Laperouse to sow seeds at places visited by his
ships, with the object of experimenting with useful European plants
that might be cultivated in other parts of the world. His own letters
and journal do not show that he did so at Botany Bay; but we have other
evidence that he did, and that the signs of cultivation had not
vanished at least ten years later. When George Bass was returning to
Sydney in February, 1798, at the end of that wonderful cruise in a
whaleboat which had led to the discovery of Westernport, he was
becalmed off Botany Bay. He was disposed to enter and remain there for
the night, but his journal records that his people--the six picked
British sailors who were the companions of his enterprise--"seemed
inclined to push for home rather than go up to the Frenchman's Garden."
Therefore, the wind failing, they took to the oars and rowed to Port
Jackson, reaching home at ten o'clock at night. That is a very
interesting allusion. The Frenchman's Garden must have been somewhere
within the enclosed area where the Cable Station now stands, and it
would be well if so pleasant a name, and one so full of
historical suggestion, were still applied to that reserve.
It may be well to quote in full the passage in which Laperouse relates
his experience of Botany Bay. He was not able to write his journal up
to the date of his departure before despatching it to Europe, but the
final paragraphs in it sufficiently describe what occurred, and what he
thought. Very loose and foolish statements have occasionally been
published as to his object in visiting the port. In one of the
geographical journals a few years ago the author saw it stated that
there was "a race for a Continent" between the English and the French,
in which the former won by less than a week! Nonsense of that sort,
even though it appears in sober publications, issued with a scientific
purpose, can emanate only from those who have no real acquaintance with
the subject. There was no race, no struggle for priority, no thought of
territorial acquisition on the part of the French. The reader of this
little book knows by this time that the visit to Botany Bay was not
originally contemplated. It was not in the programme.
What would have happened if Laperouse had safely returned home, and if
the French Revolution had not destroyed Louis XVI and blown his
exploration and colonisation schemes into thin air, is quite another
question; but "ifs" are not history. You can entirely reconstruct the
history of the human race by using enough "ifs," but with that
sort of thing, which an ironist has termed "Iftory," and is often more
amusing than enlightening, more speculative than sound, we have at
present nothing to do. Here is the version of the visit given by
Laperouse himself:--
"We made the land on the 23rd January. It has little elevation, and is
scarcely possible to be seen at a greater distance than twelve leagues.
The wind then became very variable; and, like Captain Cook, we met with
currents, which carried us every day fifteen minutes south of our
reckoning; so that we spent the whole of the 24th in plying in sight of
Botany Bay, without being able to double Point Solander, which bore
from us a league north. The wind blew strong from that quarter, and our
ships were too heavy sailers to surmount the force of the wind and the
currents combined; but that day we had a spectacle to which we had been
altogether unaccustomed since our departure from Manilla. This was a
British squadron, at anchor in Botany Bay, the pennants and ensigns of
which we could plainly distinguish. All Europeans are countrymen at
such a distance from home, and we had the most eager impatience to
fetch the anchorage; but the next day the weather was so foggy that it
was impossible to discern the land, and we did not get in till the
26th, at nine in the morning, when we let go our anchor a mile from the
north shore, in seven fathoms of water, on a good bottom of grey sand,
abreast of the second bay.
"The moment I made my appearance in the entrance of the Bay, a
lieutenant and midshipman were sent aboard my vessel by Captain Hunter,
commanding the British frigate SIRIUS. They offered from him all the
services in his power; adding, however, that, as he was just getting
under way to proceed to the northward, circumstances would not allow
him to furnish us with provision, ammunition or sails; so that his
offers of service were reduced to good wishes for the future success of
our voyage.
"I despatched an officer to return my thanks to Captain Hunter, who by
this time had his anchor a-peak, and his topsails hoisted; telling him
that my wants were confined to wood and water, of which we could not
fail in this Bay; and I was sensible that vessels intended to settle a
colony at such a distance from Europe, could not be of any assistance
to navigators.
"From the lieutenant we learnt that the English squadron was commanded
by Commodore Phillip, who had sailed from Botany Bay the previous
evening in the SUPPLY, sloop, with four transports, in search of a more
commodious place for a settlement further north. The lieutenant
appeared to make a great mystery of Commodore Phillip's plan, and we
did not take the liberty of putting any questions to him on the
subject; but we had no doubt that the intended settlement must be very
near Botany Bay, since several boats were under sail for the place, and
the passage certainly must be very short, as it was thought unnecessary
to hoist them on board. The crew of the English boat, less discreet
than their officer, soon informed our people that they were only
going to Port Jackson, sixteen miles north of Point Banks, where
Commander Phillip had himself reconnoitred a very good harbour, which
ran ten miles into the land, to the south-west, and in which the ships
might anchor within pistol-shot of the shore, in water as smooth as
that of a basin. We had, afterwards, but too frequent opportunities of
hearing news of the English settlement, the deserters from which gave
us a great deal of trouble and embarrassment."
Pieced together thus is nearly all we know about Laperouse during his
visit to Botany Bay. It is not much. We would gladly have many more
details. What has become of the letter he wrote to Phillip recommending
(according to King) the Pacific Islands as worthy of the attention of
the new colony, "for the great quantity of stock with which they
abound"? Apparently it is lost. The grave and the deep have swallowed
up the rest of this "strange eventful history," and we interrogate in
vain. We should know even less than we do were it not that Laperouse
obtained from Phillip permission to send home, by the next British ship
leaving Port Jackson, his journal, some charts, and the drawings of his
artists. This material, added to private letters and a few
miscellaneous papers, was placed in charge of Lieutenant Shortland to
be delivered to the French Ambassador in London, and formed part of the
substance of the two volumes and atlas published in Paris.
* * * * *
It may be well to cite, as a note to this chapter, the books in
which contemporary accounts of the visit of Laperouse and his ships to
Botany Bay are to be found. Some readers may thereby be tempted to look
into the original authorities. Laperouse's own narrative is contained
in the third and fourth volumes of his "Voyage autour du Monde," edited
by Milet-Mureau (Paris, 1797). There are English translations. A few
letters at the end of the work give a little additional information.
Governor Phillip's "Voyage to Botany Bay" (London, 1789) contains a
good but brief account. Phillip's despatch to the Secretary of State,
Lord Sydney, printed in the "Historical Records of New South Wales,"
Vol. I., part 2, p. 121, devotes a paragraph to the subject. King's
Journal in Vol. II. of the "Records," p. 543-7, gives his story.
Surgeon Bowes' Journal, on page 391 of the same volume, contains a
rather picturesque allusion. Hunter's "Voyage to Botany Bay" (London,
1793) substantially repeats King's version. Captain Watkin Tench, of
the Marines, has a good account in his "Narrative of an Expedition to
Botany Bay" (London, 1789), and Paterson's "History of New South Wales"
(Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1811) makes an allusion to the French expedition.
Chapter VIII.
THE MYSTERY, AND THE SECRET OF THE SEA.
The BOUSSOLE and the ASTROLABE sailed from Botany Bay on March 10,
1788. After recording that fact we might well inscribe the pathetic
last words of Hamlet, "the rest is silence."
We know what Laperouse intended to do. He wrote two letters to friends
in France, explaining the programme to be followed after sailing from
Botany Bay. They do not agree in every particular, but we may take the
last letter written to express his final determination. According to
this, his plan was to sail north, passing between Papua ( New Guinea)
and Australia by another channel than Endeavour Strait, if he could
find one. During September and October he intended to visit the Gulf of
Carpentaria, and thence sail down the west and along the south of
Australia, to Tasmania, "but in such a manner that it may be possible
for me to stretch northward in time to arrive at Ile-de-France in the
beginning of December, 1788." That was the programme which he was not
destined to complete--hardly, indeed, to enter upon. Had he succeeded,
his name would have been inscribed amongst the memorable company of the
world's great maritime explorers. As it is, the glint on his
brow, as he stands in the light of history, is less that of achievement
than of high promise, noble aims, romance and mystery.
One of the letters sent from Sydney concluded with these words: "Adieu!
I shall depart in good health, as are all my ship's company. We would
undertake six voyages round the world if it could afford to our country
either profit or pleasure." They were not the last words he wrote, but
we may appropriately take them as being, not merely his adieu to a
friend, but to the world.
Time sped on; the date given for the arrival at Ile-de-France was
passed; the year 1789 dawned and ticked off the tally of its days. But
nothing was heard of Laperouse. People in France grew anxious, one
especially we may be sure--she who knew so well where the ships would
anchor in Port Louis if they emerged out of the ocean brume, and who
longed so ardently that renewed acquaintance with scenes once sweetly
familiar would awaken memories meet to give wings to speed and spurs to
delay. Not a word came to sustain or cheer, and the faint flush of hope
faded to the wan hue of despair on the cheek of love. By 1791 all
expectation of seeing the expedition return was abandoned. But could
not some news of its fate be ascertained? Had it faded out of being
like a summer cloud, leaving not a trace behind? Might not some inkling
be had, some small relics obtained, some whisper caught, in
those distant isles,
"Where the sea egg flames on the coral, and the long-backed breakers croon
Their endless ocean legend to the lazy, locked lagoon."
France was then in the throes of her great social earthquake; but it
stands to the credit of the National Assembly that, amidst many
turbulent projects and boiling passions, they found time and had the
disposition to cause the fitting out of a new expedition to search for
tidings of those whose disappearance weighed heavily on the heart of
the nation. The decree was passed on February 9, 1791.
Two ships, the RECHERCHE and the ESPERANCE, were selected and placed
under the command of Dentrecasteaux. He had already had some experience
in a part of the region to be searched, had been a governor of
Ile-de-France, and during a South Sea voyage had named the cluster of
islands east of Papua now called the D'Entrecasteaux Group. The second
ship was placed under the command of Captain Huon Kermadec. The Huon
River in Tasmania, and the Kermadec Islands, N.E. of New Zealand, are
named after him.