To the period of fancy succeeded that of patchwork. Came the Dutch, often blown out of their true course from the Cape of Good Hope to the Spice Islands, and stumbling upon the shores of Western Australia. To some such accident we probably owe the piece of improved cartography shown upon Emmerie Mollineux's map, which Hakluyt inserted in some copies of the second edition of his Principal Navigations, and which Shakespeare is supposed to have had in mind when, in a merry scene in Twelfth Night, he made Maria say of Malvolio (3 2 85): "He does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the AUGMENTATION OF THE INDIES."* (* See Mr. Charles Coote's paper in Transactions of New Shakespeare Society, 1877 to 1879. He read the phrase "augmentation of the Indies," as referring to this and some other additions to the map of the world, now for the first time shown. In those days, of course, "the Indies" meant pretty well everything out of Europe, including America. It is curious that Flinders called the aboriginals whom he saw in Port Phillip "Indians." Probably all coloured peoples were "Indians" to seamen even so late as his day. There is a fine copy of the map referred to in volume 1 of the 1903 edition of Hakluyt, edited by Professor Walter Raleigh.) This map marks an improvement, in the sense that an approach to the truth, probably founded on actual observation, is an improvement on a large, comprehensive piece of guess work. Emmerie Mollineux expunged the imaginary region, and substituted a small tongue of land, shaped like a thimble. It was doubtless copied from some Dutch chart; and though we must not look for precision of outline at so early a date, it is sufficient to show that some navigator had seen, hereabouts, a real piece of Australia, and had made a note of what it looked like. It is not much, but, rightly regarded, it is like the first gleam of light on the dark sky where the dawn is to paint its radiance.
English Dampier (1686 to 1688, and 1699 to 1701) and Dutch Tasman (1642 to 1644) made the most substantial contributions to the world's knowledge of the true form of Australia to be credited to any individual navigators before the coming of Cook, the greatest of all.
It is very strange that so long a period as a century and a half should have been allowed to lapse between Tasman's very remarkable voyage and Flinders' completion of the outline of Australia, and that three-quarters of a century should have separated the explorations of Dampier and Cook. Here, crooned over by her great gum forests, baring her broad breast of plains to the sun and moon, lay a land holding within her immense solitudes unimaginable wealth; genial in climate, rich in soil, abounding in mineral treasures, fit to be a home for happy, industrious millions. Yet, while avarice and enterprise schemed and fought for the west and the east, this treasury of the south remained unsolicited. It is not for us to regret that Australia was left for a race that knew how to woo her with affection and to conquer her with their science and their will, yet we can but wonder that fortune should have been so tardy and so reticent in disclosing a fifth division of the globe.
While this piecing together of the outline of the continent was proceeding, speculation was naturally rife among men of science as to what countries southern latitudes contained, and what their capabilities were. It was essentially a scientific problem awaiting solution; and it is not surprising that the French, quick-brained, inquisitive, eager in pursuit of ideas, should have been active in this field.
Their intellectual concern with South Sea discovery may be said to date from the publication of the Petites Lettres of Pierre Louis Moreau de Maupertuis. He was, like some of whom Browning has written, a "person of some importance in his day," and his writings on physics are still mentioned with respect in works devoted to the history of science. But he is perhaps chiefly remembered as the savant whom Frederick the Great attracted to his court during a period of aloofness from the scintillating Voltaire, and who consequently became a writhing target for the jealous ridicule of that waspish wit. Poor Maupertuis, unhappy in his exit from life, would appear to have been restless after it, for his ghost is averred to have stalked in the hall of the Academy of Berlin, and to have been seen by a brother professor there, the remarkable phenomenon being solemnly recorded in the Transactions of that learned body.* (* See Sir Walter Scott's Demonology and Witchcraft, Letter 1.) But of far more practical importance than the appearance of his perturbed shade, was the effect of his Petites Lettres, which suggested twelve projects for the advancement of knowledge, one of which was the promotion of discovery in the southern hemisphere.
Shortly after its publication, Maupertuis' proposition was discussed by a society of accomplished students meeting at Dijon, the ancient capital of Burgundy. A member of the Society to whom much deference was paid, was Charles de Brosses, lawyer, scholar, and President of the Parlement of the Province.* (* The local parliaments were abolished in the reign of Louis XV, reinstated by Louis XVI, and finally swept away in the stormy demolition of ancient institutions to make ground for the constitution of 1791.) De Brosses was an industrious student and writer, the translator of Sallust into French, and author of several valuable historical and philological works, including a number of learned papers which may be read--or not--in the stout calf-bound quartos enshrining the records of the Academy of Inscriptions.* (* His papers in that regiment of tomes range over a period of fifty years, from 1746 to 1796. They deal chiefly with Roman history, and especially with points suggested by the author's profound study of Sallust. Gibbon pays De Brosses the compliment of quoting two of his works, and commends his "SINGULAR diligence," with emphasis on the adjective. (See Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Bury's edition 4 37 and 7 168.) He was also Voltaire's landlord at Tournay, and had a quarrel with him about a matter of firewood; but De Brosses was a lawyer, whilst Voltaire was only a philosopher and a poet, so that of course the result was "qu'il enrage d'avoir enfin a payer."* (* Lanson's Voltaire page 139.)
The discussion at Dijon was more fruitful in results than such colloquies usually are. De Brosses was especially struck with the utility of exploration in southern seas, and considered that the French nation should take the lead in such an endeavour. He spoke for a full hour in support of this particular suggestion of Maupertuis, and when he had finished his fellow-members assured him that what he had advanced was so novel and interesting that he would do well to expand his ideas into an essay, to be read at the next meeting. De Brosses did more: for he wrote two solid quarto volumes, published at Paris in 1756--"avec approbation et privilege du Roy," as the title page says--in which he related all that he could learn about previous voyages to the south, and pointed out, with generous amplitude, in limpid, fluent French, the desirableness of pursuing further discoveries there. Incidentally he coined a useful word: to Monsieur le President Charles de Brosses we owe the name "Australasia."* (* De Brosses, Histoire des Navigations aux Terres Australes 1 426 and 2 367. Max Muller, in his Lectures on the Origin of Religion page 59, stated that De Brosses coined three valuable words, "fetishism," "Polynesia," and "Australia." He certainly did not originate the word Australia, which does not occur anywhere in his book. Quiros, in 1606, named one of the islands of the New Hebrides group Austrialia del Espiritu Santo, though he seems to have done so in compliment to Philip III, who ruled Austria as well as Spain. See Markham, Voyages of Quiros volume 1 page 30 Hakluyt Society. "Australasia" was De Brosses' new name for a broad division of the globe. He derived it from the Latin australis = southern + Asia.)
A work written over one hundred and fifty years ago, recommending a project long since completed, can hardly be expected to be full of living interest. Yet this book of De Brosses, apart from the research which it evinced, was infused with a large, humane spirit that lifted it high above the level of a prospectus. The author had a sense of patriotism that looked beyond the aggrandisement that might accrue from extensive acquisitions, to the ideal of spreading French civilisation as a beneficent force. He wished his country to share in a great work of discovery that would redound to its glory as well as to its influence. Glory, he wrote, in a fine piece of French prose, is the dominant passion of kings; but their common and inveterate error is to search for it in war--that is to say, in the reciprocal misfortunes of their subjects and their neighbours. But there never is any true glory for them unless the happiness of nations is the object of their enterprises. In the task which he recommended, the grandeur of the object was joined to utility. To augment the lands known to civilised mankind by a new world, and to enrich the old world with the natural products of the new--this would be the effect of the fresh discoveries that he anticipated. What comparison could there be between such a project and the conquest--it might be the unjust conquest--of some ravaged piece of territory, of two or three fortresses battered by cannon and acquired by the massacre, the ruin, the desolation, and the regrets of the vanquished people; bought, too, at a price a hundred times greater than would suffice for the entire voyage of discovery proposed. He pointed out that the task could only be taken in hand by a government; it was too large for individuals. But the result was certain. In truth, to succeed in the complete discovery of the Terres Australes, it was not necessary to have any other end in view than success: it was simply necessary to employ proper means and sufficient forces.
De Brosses discussed the probably most advantageous situation for settlement in the South Seas, though in doing so he was hampered by insufficient knowledge. Relying upon the reports of Tasman, he considered New Zealand and "la terre de Diemen"--that is, Tasmania--too distant and too little known for an experiment; whilst the narratives of Dampier did not make those parts of New Holland that he had visited--the west and north of Australia--appear attractive. On the whole, he favoured the island to the east of Papua-New Guinea--known as New Britain (now New Pomerania), and the Austrialia del Espiritu Santo of the Spanish navigator Quiros as very suitable. It is interesting to note that the present French settlements in the New Hebrides embrace the latter island, whilst their possessions in the New Caledonia group are quite close; so that ultimately they have planted themselves on the very spot which a century and a half ago the savant of Dijon considered best fitted for them. De Brosses admitted that the establishment of such settlements as he recommended would not be the work of a day. Great enterprises require great efforts. It is for individuals to measure years, he loftily said; nations calculate by centuries. Powerful peoples must take extended views of things; and kings, as their chiefs, animated by the desire of glory and the love of country and of humanity, ought to consider themselves as personalities persisting always, and working for eternity.* (* The passages summarised are to be found in De Brosses, 1: 4, 8, 11, 19; and 2: 368, 380, 383.)
The elevated tone of De Brosses' book was calculated to make a telling appeal to the French nation, with their love of eclat and their ready receptivity. It was made, too, in the age of Voltaire, when the great man was living at Lausanne; and when, too, another of equally enduring fame, Edward Gibbon, was, in the same neighbourhood, polishing those balanced periods in which he has related the degeneracy of the successors of the Caesars. It was an age of intellectual ferment. Rousseau was writing his Contrat Social (1760), the Encyclopedie was leavening Gallic thought. There was a particular proneness to accept fresh ideas; a new sense of national consciousness was awakening.
The effect of the President's work was almost immediate. De Brosses published it in 1756; and in 1766 Louis de Bougainville sailed from France in command of La Boudeuse and L'Etoile on a voyage around the world.* (* See the Voyage du Monde par la frigate du Roi La Boudeuse et la flute L'Etoile en 1766, 1767, 1768, 1769, by Louis de Bougainville, Paris, 1771.) A eulogy pronounced on De Brosses before the Academy of Inscriptions by Dupuy* (* Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions 42 177.) hardly put the case too strongly when it was said that before he died he had the satisfaction to see in Europe men animated by his spirit, who had gone forth, braving the risks of a long voyage, to make discoveries; though the prophecy that centuries to come would doubtless count to his glory the achievements of navigators has not been verified. The world is perhaps too little inclined to accord to him who promulgates an idea the praise readily bestowed upon those who realise it.
Bougainville discovered the Navigator Islands, re-discovered the Solomon group, and was only just forestalled by the Englishman, Wallis, in the discovery of Tahiti. He produced a book of travel which may be read with scarcely less interest than the wonderful work of his contemporary, Cook.
The voyage of Nicholas Marion-Dufresne (1771) differed from the other French expeditions of the series in that one of the ships belonged to the commander, and part of the cost was sustained by him. He was fired by a passion for exploration, which led him to propose that he should take out his vessel, Le Mascurin, in company with a ship of the navy, and that a grant should be made to him from the public funds. The French Government acquiesced, and gave him Le Marquis de Castries. He did some exploring in southern Tasmania, but his career was cut short in New Zealand, where, in the Bay of Islands, he was killed and eaten by Maories in 1772.* (* Rochon, Nouveau Voyage a la Mar du Sud, Paris 1783.) One of the objects of the voyage was to take back to Tahiti a native woman, Aontouron, who had been brought to Paris by Bougainville to be shown at the court of Louis XV; but she died of smallpox en route.
Again, in 1785, the expedition commanded by the ill-fated La Perouse sailed from France on a discovery voyage.* (* See the Voyage de la Perouse, redige par M. L.A. Milet-Mureau, volume 1 Paris 1797.) The appearance of his two ships, La Boussole and l'Astrolabe, in Port Jackson only a fortnight after Governor Phillip had landed in Botany Bay to establish the first British settlement in Australia, was an event not less surprising to the governor than to La Perouse, who had left France before colonisation was intended by the English Government, though he heard of it in the course of the voyage. The French navigator remained in the harbour from February 23 to March 10 (1788), on excellent terms with Phillip; and then, sailing away to pursue his discoveries, "vanished trackless into blue immensity, and only some mournful mysterious shadow of him hovered long in all heads and hearts." His remark to Captain King, "Mr. Cook has done so much that he has left me nothing to do but admire his work," indicated the generous candour of his disposition. His fate after he sailed from Sydney remained a mystery for forty years, Flinders, on his voyage inside the Barrier Reef in 1802, kept a lookout for wreckage that might afford a key to the problem. He wrote: "The French navigator La Perouse, whose unfortunate situation, if in existence, was always present to my mind, had been wrecked, as it was thought, somewhere in the neighbourhood of New Caledonia; and if so the remnants of his ships were likely to be brought upon this coast by the trade winds, and might indicate the situation of the reef or island which had proved so fatal to him. With such an indication, I was led to believe in the possibility of finding the place; and though the hope of restoring La Perouse or any of his companions to their country and friends could not, after so many years, be rationally entertained, yet to gain some knowledge of their fate would do away with the pain of suspense, and it might not be too late to retrieve some documents of their discoveries.* (* Flinders, Voyage 2 48.) The vigilance of Flinders to this end indicates the fascination which the mysterious fate of the French mariner had for seamen, until doubts were finally set at rest in 1827, when one of the East India Company's ships, under Captain Dillon, found at Manicolo, in the New Hebrides, traces of the wreckage of the vessels of La Perouse. Native tradition enabled the history of the end of the expedition to be ascertained. The French ships, on a dark and stormy night, were both driven on the reef, and soon pounded to match-wood. A few of the sailors got ashore, but most were drowned; and the bulk of the remainder were lost in an unsuccessful attempt to make for civilised regions from the coral isolation of Manicolo. A monument to the memory of the gallant La Perouse, on the coast a few miles from Sydney, now fronts the Pacific whose winds wafted him to his doom, and beneath whose waters he found his grave.
The next link in the chain was furnished by the expedition commanded by Bruni Dentrecasteaux, who, while the hurricane of the Revolution was raging, was despatched (1791) to search for La Perouse. He made important discoveries on his own account,* (* Voyage de Dentrecasteaux, redige par M. de Rossel, Paris 1808; Labillardiere, Relation du Voyage a la Recherche de la Perouse, Paris 1800.) both on the mainland of Australia and in Tasmania; and though he found no trace of his predecessor, his own name is honourably remembered among the eminent navigators who did original work in Australasia. It was Dentrecasteaux's hydrographer, Beautemps Beaupre, whose charting of part of the southern coast of Australia was so highly praised by Flinders.
The expeditions thus enumerated were all despatched before the era of Napoleon, and appreciation of their objects cannot therefore be complicated by doubts as to his Machiavellian designs. Bougainville's voyage, and that of Marion-Dufresne, were promoted under Louis XV, that of La Perouse under Louis XVI, and Dentrecasteaux's under the Revolutionary Assembly. Each was an expedition of discovery.
Next came the expedition commanded by Nicolas Baudin, with which we are mainly concerned, and which was despatched under the Consulate. It will presently be demonstrated that it did not differ in purpose from its predecessors, and that there is nothing to show that in authorising it Bonaparte had any other object than that professed. But before pursuing that subject, let it be made clear that French exploring expeditions to the South Seas were continued after the final overthrow of the Empire.
In 1817, while Napoleon was mewed up in St. Helena, and a Bourbon once more occupied the throne of France as Louis XVIII, the ships Uranie and Physicienne were sent out under the command of Captain Louis de Freycinet, the cartographer of Baudin's expedition.* (* Voyage autour du Monde, entrepris par ordre du Roi, par Louis de Freycinet, Paris 1827.) They visited some of the scenes of former French exploits, and Freycinet took advantage of his position on the west coast to pull down and appropriate for the French Academy of Inscriptions the oldest memorial of European presence in Australia. That is to say, he took the plate put up by the Dutchman Vlaming in 1697, in place of that erected in 1616 by Dirk Haticks on the island bearing the name of "Dirk Hartog," to commemorate his visit in the ship Eendraght of Amsterdam.* (* Ibid 1 449.) Freycinet had desired to take the plate when he was an officer on Le Naturaliste in July 1801, but Captain Hamelin, the commander, would not permit it to be disturbed. On the contrary, he set up a new post with the plate affixed to it, and expressed the opinion that to remove an interesting memorial that for over a century had been spared by nature and by man, would be to commit a kind of sacrilege.* (* "Il eut pense commettre un sacrilege en gardant a son bord cette plaque respectee pendant pres de deux siecles par la nature et par les hommes qui pouvoient avant nous l'avoir observee." Péron, Voyage de Decouvertes 1 195.) Freycinet was not so scrupulous.
Again, in 1824, the Baron de Bougainville, a son of the older navigator, and who as a junior officer had sailed with Baudin, took out the ships Thetis and Esperance on a voyage to the South Seas, for purely geographical purposes;* (* Journal de la Navigation autour du monde de la fregate La Thetis et de la corvette L'Esperance, pendant les annees 1824-1826; publie par ordre du Roi. Par M. le Baron de Bougainville.) and still later, in 1826 to 1828, during the reign of Charles X, Dumont d'Urville, in the Astrolabe, did valuable exploratory work, especially in the Western Pacific.* (* Voyage de la corvette L'Astrolabe, execute par ordre du Roi, pendant les annees 1826-1829, sous le commandement de M. J. Dumont D'Urville, Paris 1830.)
The whole of these expeditions, with the partial exception of that of Marion-Dufresne, were conducted in ships of the French navy, commanded by French officers, supported by French funds, and their official records were published at the expense of the French Government. A certain unity of purpose characterised them; and that purpose was as purely and truly directed to extend man's knowledge of the habitable earth as was that of any expedition that ever sailed under any flag.
To attempt, therefore, to isolate Baudin's expedition from the series to which it rightly belongs, simply because it was undertaken while Bonaparte was at the head of the State, is to convey a false idea of it. If there were any evidence to show that it differed from the others in its aims, it would be quite proper to make it stand alone. But there is not.
Nor must it be supposed that this particular enterprise originated with the First Consul. It was not a scheme generated in his teeming brain, like the strategy of a campaign, or a masterstroke of diplomacy. It was placed before him for approval in the shape of a proposition from the Institute of France, a scientific body, concerned not with political machinations, but with the advancement of knowledge. The Institute considered that there was useful work to be done by a new expedition of discovery, and believed it to be its duty to submit a plan to the Government. We are so informed by Péron, and there is the best of reasons for believing him.* (* "L'honneur national et le progres des sciences parmi nous se reunissoient donc pour reclamer une expedition de decouvertes aux Terres Australes, et l'Institut de France crut devoir la proposer au gouvernement." Péron, Voyage de Decouvertes 1 4.) The history of the voyage was published after Napoleon had become Emperor, under his sanction, at the Imperial Press. If his had been the originating mind, it is quite certain that credit for the idea would not have been claimed for others. On the contrary, we should probably have had an adulatory paragraph from Péron's pen about the beneficence of the Imperial will as exercised in the cause of science.
Quite apart from Péron's statement, however, there are three official declarations to the like effect. First there is the announcement in the Moniteur* (* 23rd Floreal, Revolutionary Year 8; "L'Institut national a demande au premier consul, et a obtenu.) that it was the Institute which requested Bonaparte to sanction the expedition. Secondly, when Vice-Admiral Rosily reported to the Minister of Marine on Freycinet's charts in 1813,* (* Moniteur, January 15, 1813.) he commenced by observing that the expedition "had for its object the completion of the knowledge of the coasts of New Holland which were not hitherto entirely known." Thirdly, Henri de Freycinet, writing in 1808,* (* Ibid July 2, 1808.) said that it was the high interest stimulated by the voyages of La Perouse and Dentrecasteaux that made the Institute eagerly desirous of a new enterprise devoted to the reconnaissance of Australia. The last two statements were, it will be observed, published by Napoleon's official organ when the Empire was at its height.
There is no positive evidence as to what members of the Institute were chiefly instrumental in formulating the proposal for Napoleon's consideration. We do not know whether leading members explained their scheme to him orally, or laid before him a written statement. If there was a plan in manuscript, the text of it has never been published.* (* "Probably it was suppressed or destroyed," says Dr. Holland Rose (Life of Napoleon 1 379). But why should it have been? There is no reason to suppose that it contained anything which it was to anybody's interest to destroy or suppress. Indeed, it is by no means clear that there was such a document. It is quite likely that the scheme of the Institute was explained verbally to the First Consul. Why manufacture mysteries?) There is only one document relating to the expedition in the collected correspondence of Napoleon;* (* Edition of 1861.) and that concerned an incident to which reference will be made in the next chapter. The reason for the absence of letters concerning the matter among Napoleon's papers is presumably that he left the carrying out of the project to the Institute; for he was not wont to restrain his directing hand in affairs in which he was personally concerned.
But there were two leading members of the Institute who had already concerned themselves with Australasian discovery, and who may safely be assumed to have taken the initiative in this matter. They were Bougainville the explorer, who had commanded the expedition of 1766 to 1771, and Charles Pierre Claret de Fleurieu, who had been Minister of Marine in 1790, and had written a book on the Decouvertes des Francais dans le sud-est de la Nouvelle Guinee (Paris, 1790), in which he maintained the prior claims of the French navigators Bougainville and Surville to discoveries to which later English explorers had in ignorance given fresh names. Fleurieu had also intended to write the history of the voyages of La Perouse, but was prevented by pressure of official and other occupations, and handed the work over to Milet-Mureau.* (* Voyage de la Perouse, Preface 1 page 3.) He stood high in the esteem of Napoleon, was a counsellor of State during the Consulate, became intendant-general of the Emperor's household, governor of the palace of Versailles, senator, and comte. Both Fleurieu and Bougainville had abundant opportunities for explaining the utility of a fresh voyage of exploration to Napoleon.
It was, too, quite natural that these men should desire to promote a new French voyage of discovery. None knew better what might be hoped to be achieved. We are fairly safe in assuming that they moved the Institute to submit a proposition to the First Consul; and it is not improbable that they personally interviewed him on the subject.
Bonaparte, at any rate, received the proposal "with interest," and we learn from Péron* (* Voyage de Decouvertes 1 4.) that he definitely authorised the expedition at the very time when his army of reserve was about to move from Geneva to cross the Alps in that astonishing campaign which conduced, by swift, toilsome, and surprising manoeuvres, to the crushing victory of Marengo. The plan of the Institute was therefore ratified in May 1800. The Austrians at that time were holding French arms severely in check in Savoy and northern Italy. Suchet, Massena, Oudinot, and Soult were, with fluctuating fortunes but always with stubborn valour, clinging desperately to their positions or yielding ground to superior strength, awaiting with confidence the hour when the supreme master would strike the shattering blow that, while relieving the pressure on them, would completely change the aspect of the war. It was while pondering his masterstroke, and deliberating on the choice of the path across the Alps that was to lead to it, that Bonaparte gave his approval; while elaborating a scheme to overwhelm the armies of Austria in an abyss of carnage, that he expressed the wish that, as the expedition would come in contact with ignorant savages, care should be taken to make it appear that the French met them as "friends and benefactors."
It may here be parenthetically remarked that it does not make us think more favourably of Freycinet that when, in 1824, he issued a new edition of the Voyage de Decouvertes, he omitted all Péron's references to Napoleon's interest in the expedition, and his direction that when savages were met the French should appear among them "comme des amis et des bienfaiteurs."* (* Péron, 1 10.) While Péron tells us that this laudable wish was personally expressed by the First Consul, Freycinet* (* 1 74, in the 1824 edition.) altered the phrase to "le gouvernement voulut," etc. He had absolutely no justification for doing so. The reader of the second edition of the book had a right to expect that he was in possession of the original text, save for the correction of incidental errors. But in 1824 Napoleon was dead, a Bourbon reigned in France, and Freycinet was the servant of the monarchy to which he owed the command of the expedition of 1817. The suppression of Napoleon's name and the record of his actions from Péron's text, was a puerile piece of servility.
There is nothing surprising in Bonaparte's cordial approval of the enterprise. One has only to study the volumes in which M. Frederic Masson has collected the papers and memoranda relating to Napoleon's youth and early manhood to realise how intensely keen was his interest in geography and travel. In one of those interesting works is a document occupying eight printed pages, in which Napoleon had summarised a geographical textbook, with a view to the more perfect mastery of its contents.* (* See Masson's Napoleon Inconnu; Papiers Inedits; Paris 1895 volume 2 page 44. The text-book was that of Lacroix.) It is curious to note how little the young scholar was able to ascertain about Australasia from the volume from which he learnt the elements of that science for which, with his genius for strategy and tactics, he must have had an instinctive taste. "La Nouvelle Guinee, la Carpentarie, la Nouvelle Hollande," etc., figure in his notes as the countries forming the principal part of the southern hemisphere now grouped under the denomination of Australasia; "la Carpentarie" thus signalised as a separated land being simply the northern region of Australia proper, the farthest limit of which is Cape York.* (* Mallet's Description de l'Univers (Frankfort 1686) mentions "Carpenterie" as being near the "Terre des Papous," and as discovered by the Dutch captain, Carpenter.)
It is not a little interesting, that when, in April 1800, twenty sculptors were commissioned to execute as many busts of great men to adorn the Galerie des Consuls, the only Englishmen among the honoured score were Marlborough and Dampier.* (* Aulard, Paris sous le Consulat 1 267.) It is curious to find the adventurous ex-buccaneer in such noble company as that of Cicero, Cato, Caesar, Demosthenes, Frederick the Great, and George Washington, but the fact that he was among the selected heroes may be taken as another evidence of Bonaparte's interest in the men who helped to find out what the world was like. Perhaps if somebody had seen him reading Dampier's Voyages, as he read Cook's on the way to Egypt, that fact would have been instanced as another proof, not of his fondness for extremely fascinating literature, but of the nourishment of a secret passion to seize the coasts which Dampier explored.
Napoleon had been a good and a diligent student. The fascinating but hateful characteristics of his later career, when he was the Emperor with a heart petrified and corroded by ambition, the conqueror ever greedy of fresh conquest, the scourge of nations and the tyrant of kings, too often make one overlook the liberal instincts of his earlier years. His passion for knowledge was profound, and he was the pronounced friend of every genuine man of science, of every movement having for its object the acquisition and diffusion of fresh enlightenment. It is an English writer* (* Merz, History of European Thought in the Nineteenth Century 1 152 to 154.) who says of him that he was, "amongst the great heroes and statesmen of his age, the first and foremost if not the only one, who seemed thoroughly to realise the part which science was destined to play in the immediate future"; and the same author adds that "some of the glory of Laplace and Cuvier falls upon Napoleon." He took pleasure in the company and conversation of men of science; and never more so than during the period of the Consulate. Thibaudeau's memoirs show him dining one night with Laplace, Monge, and Berthollet; and the English translator of that delightful book* (* Dr. Fortescue, page 273. Compare also Lord Rosebery, Napoleon, the Last Phase page 234: "In the first period of his Consulate he was an almost ideal ruler. He was firm, sagacious, far-seeing, energetic, just.") emphasises the contrast between the "just and noble sanity of the First Consul of 1802 and the delirium of the Emperor of 1812." The failure to keep that difference in mind--to recognise that the Bonaparte of the early Consulate was capable of exalted ideals for the general well-being that were foreign to the Napoleon of ten years later--is fruitful of mistakes in interpreting his activities. On April 8 he attended a seance of the Institute, and was there instrumental in reconciling several persons who had become estranged through events which occurred during the Revolution.* (* Aulard, Paris sous le Consulat, 1 252.) He was therefore on good terms with this learned body, and was himself a member of that division of it which was devoted to the physical and mathematical sciences.* (* Thibaudeau (English edition) page 112.)
It was quite natural, then, that when the national representatives of scientific thought in France approached him with a proposition that was calculated to make his era illustrious by a grand voyage of exploration which should complete man's knowledge of the great continents, the First Consul gave a ready consent.
The task of preparing instructions for the voyage was entrusted to a Committee of the Institute, consisting of Fleurieu, Bougainville, Laplace, Lacepede, Cuvier, Jussieu, Lelievre, Langles, and Camus; whilst Degerando wrote a special memorandum upon the methods to be followed in the observation of savage peoples--the latter probably in consequence of the First Consul's particular direction on this subject. It was an admirably chosen body for formulating a programme of scientific research. A great astronomer, two eminent biologists, a famous botanist, a practical navigator, a geographer, all men of distinction among European savants, and two of them, Laplace and Cuvier, among the greatest men of science of modern times, were scholars who knew what might be expected to be gained for knowledge, and where and how the most fruitful results might be obtained.
In their instructions, the committee directed attention to the south coast of Tasmania--by that time known to be an island, since the discoveries of Bass and Flinders, and their circumnavigation, had been the subject of much comment in Europe--as offering a good field for geographical research. They indicated the advisableness of exploring the eastern coast of the island, of traversing Bass Strait with a view to a more complete examination than appeared to the Institute to have been made up to that time, and of pursuing the southern coasts of Australia as far as the western point of Dentrecasteaux's investigations, especially with the object of searching that part of the land "where there is supposed to be a strait communicating with the Gulf of Carpentaria, and which, consequently, would divide New Holland into two large and almost equal islands." So much accomplished, the expedition was to pay particular attention to the coasts westward of the Swan River, since the old navigators who had determined their contour had necessarily had to work with imperfect instruments. The vessels were then to make a fuller exploration of the western and northern shores than had hitherto been achieved, to attack the south-west of Papua (New Guinea), and to investigate the Gulf of Carpentaria. No instructions seem to have been given relative to a further examination of the eastern coasts of the continent. Cook's work there was evidently thought to be sufficient, though Flinders found several fresh and important harbours. The programme, as Péron pointed out, involved the exploration in detail of several thousands of miles of coasts hitherto quite unknown or imperfectly known, and its proper performance was calculated to accomplish highly important work in perfecting a knowledge of the geography of the southern hemisphere.
The French Government fitted out the expedition in a lavish and elaborate fashion.* (* "Les savans ont vu avec le plus grand interet les soins que le gouvernement a pris pour rendre ce voyage utile a l'histoire naturelle et a la connaissance des moeurs des sauvages." Moniteur, 22nd Fructidor.) Funds were not stinted, and the commander was given unlimited credit to obtain anything that he required at any port of call. The best scientific instruments were procured, and the stores of the great naval depot of Havre were thrown open for the equipment of the ships with every necessity and comfort for a long voyage. Luxuries were not spared; "in a word," says Péron, "the Government had ordered that nothing whatever should be omitted that could assure the preservation of health, promote the work of the staff, and guarantee the independence of the expedition."
Two vessels lying in the port of Havre were selected. The principal one, which was named Le Geographe, was a corvette of 30 guns, 450 tons, drawing fifteen or sixteen feet of water, a fast sailer, but, in Péron's opinion, not so good a boat for the purpose as her consort. Flinders described her as a "heavy-looking ship." The second vessel, named Le Naturaliste, was a strong, lumbering store-ship, very slow, but solid. She was a "grosse gabare," as one French writer described her.* (* Dr. Holland Rose (Revolutionary and Napoleonic Era page 139) heightens the effect of his argument by stating that Bonaparte "sent out men-of-war to survey the south coast of Australia for a settlement." It may be true that, strictly speaking, the ships were "men-of-war," inasmuch as they were ships of the navy. But the reader would hardly derive the impression, from the words quoted, that they were vessels utterly unwarlike in equipment, manning, and command. As will presently be seen, they were very soon loaded up with scientific specimens. Nor is there any warrant for the statement that the expedition was instructed to "survey the south coast of Australia for a settlement." There was nothing about settlement in the instructions, which were not, as the passage would lead the reader to infer, confined to the south coast.)
The staff was selected with great care, special examinations being prescribed for the younger naval officers. A large company of artists, men of science, and gardeners accompanied the expedition for the collection of specimens, the making of charts and drawings, and the systematic observation of phenomena. There were two astronomers, two hydrographers, three botanists, five zoologists, two mineralogists, five artists, and five gardeners. Probably no exploring expedition to the South Seas before this time had set out with such a large equipment of selected, talented men for scientific and artistic work. The whole staff--nautical, scientific, and artistic--on the two ships consisted of sixty-one persons, of whom only twenty-nine returned to France after sharing the fatigues and distress of the whole voyage. Seven died, twenty had to be put ashore on account of serious illness, and five left the expedition for other causes.
The great German traveller and savant, Alexander von Humboldt, was in Paris while preparations were being made for the despatch of the expedition; and, being at that time desirous of pursuing scientific investigations in distant regions, he obtained permission to embark, with the instruments he had collected, in one of Baudin's vessels. He confessed, however, that he had "but little confidence in the personal character of Captain Baudin," chiefly on account of the dissatisfaction he had given to the Court of Vienna in regard to a previous voyage.* (* Humboldt's Personal Narrative of Travels, translated by H.M. Williams, London 1814 volume 1 pages 6 to 8.) Humboldt's testimony is interesting, inasmuch as, if it be reliable--and, as he was in close touch with leading French men of science, there is no reason to disbelieve him--the original intention was to make the voyage more extensive in scope, and different in the route followed, than was afterwards determined. "The first plan," he wrote, "was great, bold, and worthy of being executed by a more enlightened commander. The purpose of the expedition was to visit the Spanish possessions of South America, from the mouth of the River Plata to the kingdom of Quito and the isthmus of Panama. After traversing the archipelago of the great ocean, and exploring the coasts of New Holland from Van Diemen's Land to that of Nuyts, both vessels were to stop at Madagascar, and return by the Cape of Good Hope." Concerning the reasons why he was not ultimately taken, Humboldt was not accurately informed. "The war which broke out in Germany and Italy," he wrote, "determined the French Government to withdraw the funds granted for their voyage of discovery, and adjourn it to an indefinite period." Such was not the case. The funds were not withdrawn; the expedition was not adjourned. But Humboldt was a German, and the Institute very naturally desired that French savants should do the work which was to be sustained by French funds. There would probably be the less inclination to employ Humboldt, as he reserved to himself "the liberty of leaving Captain Baudin whenever I thought proper." He believed himself to be "cruelly deceived in my hopes, seeing the plans which I had been forming during many years of my life overthrown in a single day." But in view of his confessed dislike of the commander, it does not seem that, on this ground alone, it would have been good policy to enrol him as a member of the staff, when there were French men of science eager for appointment.
The chief naturalist and future historian of the expedition, Francois Péron, was twenty-five years of age when he was commissioned to join Le Geographe. Born at Cerilly (Allier) in 1775, he was left fatherless at an early age; but he was a bright, promising scholar, and the cure of his native place took him into his house with the object of educating him for the priesthood. But "seduced by the principles of liberty which served as pretext for the Revolution, inflamed by patriotism, his spirit exalted by his reading of ancient history," as a biographer, Deleuze, wrote, he left the peaceful home of the village priest, and shouldered a musket under the tricolour. He fought in the army of the Rhine, and in an engagement against the Prussians at Kaiserslautern, was wounded and taken prisoner. Always a student, he spent the little money that he had on the purchase of books, which he devoted all his time to reading. He was exchanged in 1794, and returned to France.
His short soldiering career had cost him his right eye; but this deprivation really determined the vocation for which his genius especially fitted him. The Minister of the Interior gave him admission to the school of medicine at Paris, where, in addition to pursuing the prescribed course, he applied himself with enthusiasm to the study of biology* (* The word "biology" was not used till Lamarck employed it in 1801 to cover all the sciences concerned with living matter; but we are so accustomed to it nowadays, that it is the most convenient word to use to describe the group of studies to which Péron applied himself.) and comparative anatomy at the Museum. He was industrious, keen, methodical, and, above all, possessed of that valuable quality of imagination which, discreetly harnessed to the use of the scientific intellect, enables a student to see through his facts, and to read their vital meaning. The expedition to the South Seas had already been fitted out, and Baudin's ships were lying at Havre awaiting sailing orders from the Minister of Marine, when Péron sought employment as an additional biologist. The staff was by that time complete; but Péron addressed himself to Jussieu, pressing his request with such ardour, and explaining his well-considered plans with such clearness, that the eminent botanist was unable to listen to him "sans etonnement et sans emotion."
Péron was very anxious to travel, not only for the sake of the scientific work which he might do, but also to find relief for his feelings, depressed by the disappointment of a love affair. Mademoiselle was unkind--because the lover was poor, his biographer says; but we must not forget that he was also one-eyed. Many ladies prefer a man with two.
Jussieu conferred with Lacepede the biologist, and the two agreed that it would be advantageous to permit this enthusiastic young student to make the voyage. Péron was encouraged to write a paper to be read before the Institute, expounding his views. He did so, taking as his principal theme the desirableness of having with the expedition a naturalist especially charged with researches in anthropology. The Institute was convinced; the Minister of Marine was moved; Péron was appointed. He consulted with Cuvier, Lacepede, and Degerando as to a programme of work, procured the necessary apparatus, went to Cerilly to embrace his sisters and receive his mother's benediction, and joined Le Geographe just before she sailed.* (* The facts concerning Péron's early career are taken from Deleuze's memoir, 1811, and that of Maurice Girard, 1857.)
The command of the expedition was entrusted to Captain Nicolas Baudin. He was fifty years of age when he received this commission, on the nomination of the Institute. In his youth he had been engaged in the French mercantile marine. In later years he had commanded two expeditions, despatched under the Austrian flag, for botanical purposes. From the last of these he returned in 1797, when, his country being at war with Austria, he presented the complete collection of animals and plants obtained to the French nation.* (* The Moniteur, 25th Prairial (June 13), 1797.) This timely act won him the friendship of Jussieu, and it was largely through his influence that "Citoyen" Baudin was chosen to command the expedition to the Terres Australes.* (* The Moniteur, 23rd Floreal (May 13), 1800.) He had had no training in the Navy, though if, as some suppose, the expedition had a secret aggressive mission, we may reasonably conjecture that it would have been placed under the command of a naval officer with some amount of fighting experience.
That Baudin did not become popular with the staff under his command is apparent from the studious omission of his name from the volumes of Péron and Freycinet, and from their resentful references to "notre chef." They wrote not a single commendatory word about him throughout the book, and they expressed no syllable of regret when he died in the course of the voyage.
Sometimes we may judge of a man's reputation among his contemporaries by an anecdote, even when we doubt its truth; for men do not usually tell stories that disparage the capacity of those whom they respect. An amusing if venomous story about Baudin was told by the author of a narrative of one of the botanical voyages.* (* See the Naval Chronicle volume 14 page 103. The writer referred to was Bory de Saint-Vincent, who wrote the Voyage dans les quatre principales iles des mers d'Afrique, Paris 1804.) He related, on the alleged authority of an officer, that, being in want of a magnetic needle to replace one belonging to a compass which had been injured, he applied to the commodore, who had several in a drawer in his cabin. Baudin found one, but as it was somewhat rusty, the officer feared that the magnetic properties of the steel would be impaired. Baudin expressed his regret, and said: "Everything has been furnished by the Government in the most niggardly fashion; if they had followed my advice we should have been provided with silver needles instead of steel ones!"
Whether or not we believe that a naval commander could be so ignorant of magnetism, it is certain that Baudin did not enforce the laws of health on his ships. Sufficient has been said in the first chapter to show so much. The Consular Government gave unlimited scope for the proper provisioning of the vessels, and yet we find officers and men in a wretched condition, the water insufficient, and the food supplies in utter decay, before the expedition reached Port Jackson. It must be added, however--even out of its proper place, lest an unduly harsh impression of Baudin's character should be conveyed--that he seems to have made an excellent impression upon the English in Sydney. Governor King treated him as a friend; and the letter of farewell that he wrote on his departure was such a delicate specimen of grace and courtesy, that one would feel that only a gentleman could have written it, were there not too many instances to show that elegant manners and language towards strangers are not incompatible with the rough and inconsiderate treatment of subordinates.
The passports from the English Government.
Sailing of the expedition.
French interest in it.
The case of Ah Sam.
Baudin's obstinacy.
Short supplies.
The French ships on the Western Australian coast.
The Ile Lucas and its name.
Refreshment at Timor.
The English frigate Virginia.
Baudin sails south.
Shortage of water.
The French in Tasmania.
Péron among the aboriginals.
The savage and the boat.
Among native women.
A question of colour.
Separation of the ships by storm.
Baudin sails through Bass Strait, and meets Flinders.
Scurvy.
Great storms and intense suffering.
Le Geographe at Port Jackson.
England and France were at war when, in June 1800, application was made to the British Admiralty for passports for the French discovery ships. Earlier in that year the Government of the Republic sent to London Louis Guillaume Otto, a diplomatist of experience and tried discretion, to arrange for the exchange of prisoners of war; and it was Otto, whose tact and probity won him the esteem of King George's advisers, who conducted the preliminary negotiations which led up to the Treaty of Amiens. Earl Spencer was First Lord of the Admiralty--in Pitt's administration (1783 to 1801)--when the application was made.
The Quarterly Review of August 1810 (volume 4 page 42) fell into a singular error in blaming Addington's administration for the issue of the passports. Pitt's ministry did not fall till March 1801; and the censure which the reviewer levelled at the "good-natured minister," Earl St. Vincent, who was Addington's First Lord of the Admiralty, for entertaining the French application, was therefore undeserved by him. "A few months after the retirement of Mr. Pitt from office and the succession of Mr. Addington, that is to say, in June 1800," are the opening words of the Quarterly article--an extraordinary blunder for a contemporary to make. The Quarterly was, of course, bitterly adverse to Addington's administration, in politics; but though party bias is responsible for strange behaviour, we shall be safe in attributing to lapse of memory this censure of a minister for the act of his predecessor. St. Vincent was in active service, as Admiral in command of the Channel Fleet, when the passports were issued.
It cannot be assumed that Spencer would have complied with such a request from a nation with which his country was at war, had he not been satisfied that the expedition was what it professed to be, one for discovery and scientific research. The passports granted guaranteed to Le Geographe and Le Naturaliste protection from hostile attack from British ships, and bespoke for them a favourable reception in any British port out of Europe where they might have to seek shelter.
The Admiralty was in later years severely blamed for compliance. Circumstances that have been narrated in previous pages generated the suspicion that the real purpose of the expedition was "to ascertain the real state of New Holland, to discover what our colonists were doing, and what was left for the French to do, on this great continent in the event of a peace, to find some port in the neighbourhood of our settlements which should be to them what Pondicherry was to Hindustan, to rear the standard of Bonaparte on the first convenient spot."* (* Quarterly Review 4 43. There can be no doubt that this Quarterly article had a great influence in formulating the idea which has been current for nearly a century regarding Napoleon's deep designs. Paterson's History of New South Wales (1811) repeated portions of the article almost verbally, but without quotation marks (see Preface page 5), and many later writers have fed upon its leading themes, without submitting them to examination.) The fact that this sweeping condemnation was made in a powerful organ of opinion bitterly hostile to the administration which it meant to attack, would minimise its importance for us, a century later, were it not that more recent writers have adopted the same assumption. To accept it, we have not merely to disregard the total absence of evidence, but to believe that Spencer was befooled and that Otto deceived him. The application was, it was urged, "grounded on false pretences," and the passports were "fraudulently obtained." It would have been a piece of audacity of quite superb coolness for the French diplomatist to ask for British protection for ships on ostensible grounds of research, had their secret purpose been exactly opposite to the profession; and the British Minister would have been guilty of grave dereliction of duty had he not assured himself that Otto's representations were reliable.
The letter of instructions furnished by the Duke of Portland, Secretary of State in Pitt's administration, to Grant, the commander of the Lady Nelson, in February 1800, may be quoted as laying down the principle observed by Great Britain in regard to an enemy's ships commissioned purely for discovery. "As vessels fitted out for this purpose," wrote the Duke, "have always been respected by the nations of Europe, notwithstanding actual hostilities may at the time have existed between them, and as this country has always manifested the greatest attention to other nations on similar occasions, as you will observe by the letters written in favour of vessels employed in discovery by France and Spain, copies of which you receive enclosed, I have no apprehension whatever of your suffering any hindrance or molestation from the ships of other nations should you fall in with them...You are also, on pain of His Majesty's utmost displeasure, to refrain on your part from making prizes, or from detaining or molesting the ships of any other nation, although they may be at war with His Majesty."* (* Historical Records of New South Wales 4 57.)
It was on this enlightened principle that the British Government furnished passports to Baudin's ships; but the Admiralty also took steps to prevent the laurels of important discovery being won by foreign efforts. Flinders returned home in the Reliance in August, vigorous, eager for fresh work, and already, notwithstanding his youth, honourably regarded by naval men as an intrepid and skilful navigator. Lord Spencer, the head of a family eminently distinguished for the great administrators whom it has furnished for the furtherance of British polity, did a far wiser thing than attempting to block French researches, from suspicion, jealousy, or fear of consequences. He entertained the suggestion of Sir Joseph Banks, ordered the fitting out of the Investigator, and placed her under the command of the one man in the Navy who knew what discovery work there was to do, and how to accomplish it speedily. Pitt's consummate judgment in the selection of men for crucial work has often been eulogised, and never too warmly; but one can hardly over-praise the sagacity of Pitt's colleague at the Admiralty, who especially commended Nelson as the officer to checkmate Bonaparte in the Mediterranean in 1798,* (* See Mahan's Life of Nelson (1899 edition) page 275.) and, on the more pacific side of naval activity, commissioned Matthew Flinders to complete the discovery of Australia in 1800.
Baudin's expedition was ready to sail from Havre at the end of September, but was delayed by contrary winds. The delay was considered by a friendly contemporary to be fortunate, in that it enabled the officers and scientific staff to become friendly, so that the most perfect harmony existed amongst them.* (* Moniteur, 29th Vendemiaire, Revolutionary Year 8 (1800).) French readers of the official organ of the Government were also assured that everybody on the two ships had merited confidence in the talent of the chiefs; in which case their disappointment with later developments must have been all the more profound. The public and the journals took a lively interest in the enterprise; and the author of one of the world's great stories, Bernardin de Saint Pierre, from his experience of tropical life in the island where Paul and Virginia lived and loved, lectured at the Institute on the dietetic regime which ought to be observed by Captain Baudin and his men.* (* Moniteur, 16th Vendemiaire.) But however valuable his advice may have been, it was sadly disregarded.
A livelier function was a banquet given to Baudin at the Hotel de la Rochefoucauld, in Paris, on the 7th Fructidor, by the Societe de l'Afrique Interieure. It was attended by several leading members of the Institute, and an account of it was accorded over a column of space in the Moniteur.* (* 22nd Fructidor.) Baudin was seated between Bougainville and Vaillant, an African traveller. There was music, and song, and a long toast list, with many eloquent speeches. Baudin submitted the toast of Bonaparte, "First Consul of the French Republic and protector of the expedition"; Jussieu proposed the progress of the sciences; the company drank to the "amelioration of the lot of savage races, and may their civilisation result from the visit which the French are about to pay to them"; and the immortal memory of La Perouse was honoured in silence. The last toast appropriately expressed the wish that the whole company might reassemble in the same place on the return of the expedition, "inspired by the purest zeal for the progress of the sciences and of enlightenment." A short poem was also recited, which it is worth while to rescue from the inaccessibility of the Moniteur file:--
"Vous quittez aujourd'hui la France
Mais vous emportez tous nos voeux,
Et deja vos succes heureux
Partout sont applaudis d'avance.Sur le coeur de tous les mortels
Votre gloire a jamais se fonde,
Il n'est pas de pays au monde
Ou le savoir n'ait des autels."
The poet who thus applauded success in advance, probably lived long enough to realise that it is much easier to make fair verses than a true prediction.
There was another banquet at Havre while the ships were awaiting a fair wind, when again high hopes were expressed concerning the results to be achieved by the expedition, and where one of the toasts was proposed by a Chinese, Ah Sam, who had been found on board a captured English frigate, and was, by Bonaparte's orders, being taken by Baudin to Mauritius, whence he was to be shipped to his own country. Ah Sam's toast descended from ethereal altitudes and took a purely personal view of the situation. He drank "Aux Francais, bons amis d'A Sam."* (* Moniteur, 21st Vendemiaire.) The Chinaman had reason to be grateful, for the First Consul had, by an order over his own signature, directed that he should be placed under Baudin's charge, and conveyed to his own country at the expense of the Government, and that there should be shown to him that consideration which he merited, both because he was a stranger and because of his good conduct while residing within the territories of the Republic.* (* Correspondence of Napoleon, 1861 collection Volume 6, letter dated 7th Vendemiaire, Revolutionary Year 9 (September 29, 1800).) The treatment of Ah Sam was an example of that kindness which Napoleon, ruthless in war, so often displayed towards those who touched his sympathies.* (* Péron mentioned Ah Sam's case (1 11), but Freycinet, in his second edition, cut out the paragraph, in pursuance of his policy of suppressing references to Napoleon; Péron having written that the Chinaman had reason to bless the generosity and goodness of the First Consul. It was not politic in 1824 to talk about Napoleon's generosity and goodness. But how paltry was the spirit thus displayed!)
The expedition sailed from Havre on the morning of October 19, 1800, amidst cordial popular demonstrations from the inhabitants of that bustling seaport, and many wishes that fortune might crown the efforts of the explorers with success. The captain of the English frigate Proselite, which was watching the harbour mouth, scrutinised the passports and permitted the ships to pass; and, with a fair wind to fill his sails, Baudin put out into the Channel and steered for the open ocean, bound due south.
Péron, in his history of the voyage, severely blamed the obstinacy of "notre chef"--mention of his name being carefully avoided--for the delay occasioned on the run down to the Cape of Good Hope. Captain Baudin, disregarding the advice of his officers, insisted on sailing fairly close to the African coast, instead of making a more westerly course. He argued, according to Péron, that the route which he favoured was nearer, and as a matter of mileage he was right. But winds and currents should have been considered rather than bare distance; and the simple result of bad seamanship was that Baudin's vessels occupied one hundred and forty-five days on the voyage from Havre to Mauritius, where they stayed to refit, whilst Flinders brought out the Investigator from Spithead the whole way to Cape Leeuwin, where he first made the Australian coast, in one hundred and forty-two days. The French vessels lay at Mauritius for the leisurely space of forty days, and did not reach Australia till May 27, two hundred and twenty days after their departure from France.
Even then, had reasonable diligence been exercised in the pursuit of the exploratory work for which his ships had been commissioned, Baudin would have had the honour of discovering the unknown southern coast; for Flinders was not allowed to leave England till July 17, 1801, fifty-one days after the French actually arrived on the shores of Australia. The prize of discovery slipped from Baudin's reach in consequence of his "dawdling" methods, which brought about those "consequences facheuses et irreparables" deplored by the naturalist.
Soon after the expedition left Mauritius, the officers and crew were surprised to learn that the supplies of bread were short "and that for the future ships' biscuit and salt meat would constitute the principal part of the diet. The wine brought from France had also been nearly consumed. Instead of the latter, a cheap, unwholesome drink, tafia, bought at the island, was to be served out. This was amazing and depressing news, considering the lavishness with which the Government had fitted out the ships, and that nearly six weeks had been spent at a French colonial possession. By this time, too, as is clear from Péron's narrative, very little affection for the commander remained. The delays already permitted had brought the expedition in face of the prospect of exploring the southern coasts of New Holland in the winter season. Baudin considered it unwise to undertake the work in Tasmanian seas, according to the programme prepared for him, during months when severe storms would probably be encountered; and he consequently determined not to sail farther south on making Cape Leeuwin, but to explore the western coasts of the continent, reserving the work which the Institute had put first to be done in the following spring. Péron blamed him for this decision, inasmuch as the course prescribed in the instructions was the result of careful thought and extensive research. But though the procrastination which had let slip the months best suited for exploration in southern waters was caused by Baudin's own lack of energy and knowledge, his resolve not to entrust his ships on an unknown coast, where he knew of no secure harbours, in the months of tempest and cold, was prudent.
On making the Leeuwin, therefore, Baudin steered north. Geography Bay and Cape Naturaliste, upon current maps, mark the commencement of his work on the shores of Western Australia. From Sharks Bay the vessels pursued the course of the first Englishman to explore any portion of the Australian coast, the resolute, observant, tough old salt, William Dampier. The biographical dictionary was here for the first time brought forth, and the names within it were scattered liberally over the lands traversed. Some of them have adhered, though Baudin's voyage along these shores was by no means one of discovery, and there is clear evidence that names were applied to parts which his ships did not investigate with any approach to care. The Golfe Joseph Bonaparte of the large French chart, if traced with some degree of particularity, would have led to several highly important discoveries. But it was not carefully investigated at all, and thus Baudin totally missed Bathurst Island and Melville Island, which together stretch for over one hundred miles across the entrance to Van Diemen's Gulf. Instead of definiteness of outline, the French charts presented the world with a bristling array of names affixed to contours which were cloudy and ill-defined, incomplete and inaccurate.
The most serious omission of all was the superb natural harbour of Port Darwin, the finest anchorage in northern Australia. The French missed it altogether. Yet here also they peppered their chart of the neighbouring coasts with the names of their notable countrymen, as though they had explored the environs meticulously. Baudin certainly lost a fine opportunity of doing good original work in north-western Australia; and had his real object been to find a suitable site for French settlement, his research would have been amply rewarded had he found the port which now bears the noble name of the greatest modern man of science. There is, however, one French name which should not escape mention, since it serves to remind us that Péron was writing his book at the time when, amidst the smoke and flame and thunder of Trafalgar, two fleets locked in fierce conflict were deciding momentous issues. Off the very broken coast of what is now the Kimberley division of Western Australia, the French styled a small cluster of rocky islets the Isles d'Arcole; and one of these was named Ile Lucas, "in honour of the captain of the vessel which, in the combat of the Redoutable against the Victory, has lately attained so much honour."* (* Péron, Voyage de Decouvertes 1 136.) The English reader will scarcely need to be reminded that it was by a shot from the mizzen top of the Redoutable in that immortal fight that Nelson received his death wound; and thus, by giving his name to a desolate rock, was it sought to honour the captain of the ship that had accounted for the death of a nation's hero. The French charting was so inferior that it is scarcely possible to identify the Ile Lucas, which is not marked at all on the large Carte Generale, probably because that was finished before Trafalgar was fought; though the passage in Péron's book is somewhat valuable as showing that the pepper-box sprinkling of names along coasts explored with less sufficiency than pretentiousness was not entirely Baudin's work. The commander of the expedition died before Trafalgar was fought, so that, as on other grounds we have reason to infer, he was less responsible for the nomenclature than Freycinet made it appear when that feature of the work became somewhat discreditable.
Scurvy broke out on Le Geographe while the voyage along the western and north-western coasts was in progress. Water, too, was becoming scarce, and there seemed to be little opportunity of replenishing the supply on these barren shores. The ship had likewise become separated from her consort, Le Naturaliste, "owing to the false calculations of the chief charged with directing their common movements," as averred by Freycinet. Baudin decided to sail to the Dutch possession at Timor, where he might be able to re-victual, take in fresh water, and enable his crew to recover from their disease, which was fast reducing them to helplessness. He therefore discontinued the further exploration of the north-west coast, and, on August 18, entered Kupang.
There Le Naturaliste also appeared rather more than a month later, and the two ships remained in the Dutch port till November 13, Baudin's vessel having thus been at anchor fifty-six days. There was no hurrying.
In the month of October an English frigate, the Virginia, suddenly made her appearance in the offing, with her decks cleared for action. Her captain had heard of two French vessels being at Kupang, and, supposing them to be lawful prize of war, he had clapped on all sail and descended on the quiet little port with the joyful anticipation of finding brisk business to do. But when he was informed that the two were exploring ships, and had examined their passports, the English commander gallantly expressed "his especial esteem and consideration for the object of our voyage"; and, hearing that Captain Baudin was ill, even offered a present of excellent wine. It was a shining, graceful little incident, pleasant to read about in a story in which there is a surfeit of discontent, disease, and bad feeling. The frigate, having satisfied herself that there was no fighting to enjoy, made off without firing a shot.
After the long sojourn at Timor, it might have been expected that when the expedition sailed for the south of Tasmania, the ships would be in a clean and wholesome condition, the crews and staff in good health, and the supplies of food and water abundant. But distressing fortunes followed in Baudin's wake at every stage of the voyage. Leaving Kupang on November 13, the vessels were only six days' sail from that port when insufficiency of water led to revolting practices, described by Péron. "We were so oppressed by the heat," he says, "and our ration of water was so meagre, that unhappy sailors were seen drinking their urine. All the representations of the ship's doctor with a view of increasing for the time being the quantity of water supplied, and diminishing the ration when cooler latitudes were reached, were useless."* (* Péron, 1824 edition 2 7.) It is not wonderful that scurvy broke out again with increased virulence.
It is more pleasant to turn to the somewhat prolonged stay made in southern Tasmania. At this time, it should be recollected, there was no European settlement on the beautiful and fertile island which then bore the name of the old Dutch governor of Java, Anthony Van Diemen. Indeed, it was only so recently as 1798 that Flinders and Bass, in the Norfolk, had demonstrated that it really was an island, by sailing round it. On previous charts, principally founded on that of Cook--the map attached to the history of Bougainville's voyage (1771) is particularly interesting--it had been represented as a long projection from the mainland, shaped like a pig's snout. Not only Abel Tasman, the discoverer (1642), but the French explorers, Marion-Dufresne (1772) and Dentrecasteaux (1791), and the English navigators, Cook, Furneaux, Cox, and Bligh, had visited it.* (* See Backhouse Walker, Early Tasmania, published by the Royal Society of Tasmania, Hobart 1902.) But as yet the European had merely landed for fresh water, or had explored the south coast very slightly as a matter of curiosity, and the aboriginal race was still in unchallenged possession. Had Baudin been furnished with instructions to look for a place for French settlement, very little diligence and perspicacity would have enabled him to fix upon a spot suitable to the point of perfection before the English at Port Jackson knew of his whereabouts in these seas at all. He might have planted the tricolour under the shadow of Mount Wellington, on the site of Hobart, and furnished it from his ships with the requisites for endurance till he could speed to the Isle of France and bring out the means of establishing a stable settlement. But though the geographical work done in this region was important and of good quality--Freycinet being on the spot--it does not appear that any investigations were made beyond those natural to a scientific expedition, and certainly no steps were taken by Baudin to assert possessive rights. Yet there was no part of Australia as to which the French could have made out stronger claims on moral grounds; for though the voyage of the first French navigator who landed in Tasmania was one hundred and thirty years later than Abel Tasman's discovery, still it was a solid fact that both Marion-Dufresne and Dentrecasteaux had contributed more than any other Europeans had done to a knowledge of what Tasmania was, until Flinders and Bass in their dancing little 25 ton sloop put an end to mystery and misconception, and placed the charming island fairly for what it was on the map of the world.
Baudin's ships rounded South-East Cape on January 13 (1802), and sailed up Dentrecasteaux Channel into Port Cygnet. Péron found plenty to interest him in the fauna of this strange land, and above all in the aboriginals with whom he was able to come in contact. His chapters on the three months' stay in southern and eastern Tasmania are full of pleasant passages, for the naturalist had a pretty talent for descriptive writing, was pleased with the novel things he saw, and communicated his pleasure to his pages. Though he lacked the large grasp, the fertile suggestiveness, of great scientific travellers like Humboldt, Darwin, and Alfred Russel Wallace, he was curious, well informed, industrious, and sympathetic; and as he was the first trained anthropologist to enter into personal relations with the Tasmanian blacks--a race now become extinct under the shrivelling touch of European civilisation--his writings concerning them have great value, quite apart from the pleasure with which they may be read. A couple of pages describing Péron's first meeting with the aboriginals when out looking for water, and the amazement of the savages on encountering the whites--an incident given with delightful humour, and at the same time showing close and careful observation--will be likely to be welcomed by the reader.
"In pursuing our route we came to a little cove, at the bottom of which appeared a pretty valley, which seemed to offer the prospect of finding sweet water. That consideration decided M. H. Freycinet to land there. We had scarcely put foot upon the shore, when two natives made their appearance upon the peak of a neighbouring hill. In response to the signs of friendship that we made to them, one of them leapt, rather than climbed, from the height of the rock, and was in the midst of us in the twinkling of an eye. He was a young man of from twenty-two to twenty-four years of age, of generally strong build, having no other physical fault than the extreme slenderness of legs and arms that is characteristic of his race. His face had nothing ferocious or forbidding about its expression; his eyes were lively and intelligent, and his manner expressed at once good feeling and surprise. M. Freycinet having embraced him, I did the same; but from the air of indifference with which he received this evidence of our interest, it was easy to perceive that this kind of reception had no signification for him. What appeared to affect him more, was the whiteness of our skin. Wishing to assure himself, doubtless, if our bodies were the same colour all over, he lifted up successively our waistcoats and our shirts; and his astonishment manifested itself in loud cries of surprise, and above all in an extremely rapid stamping of the feet.
"But our boat appeared to interest him even more than our persons; and after he had examined us for some minutes, he sprang into it. There, without troubling himself at all about the sailors whom he found in it, he appeared as if absorbed in his examination of the novelty. The thickness of the planks, the curves, the rudder, the oars, the masts, the sails--all these he observed with that silent and profound attention which are the unquestionable signs of a deep interest and a reflective admiration. Just then, one of the boatmen, wishing doubtless to increase his surprise, handed him a glass bottle filled with the arack which formed part of the provisions of our search party. The shining of the glass at first evoked a cry of astonishment from the savage, who took the bottle and examined it for some moments. But soon, his curiosity returning to the boat, he threw the bottle into the sea, without appearing to have any other intention than that of getting rid of an object to which he was indifferent; and at once resumed his examination. Neither the cries of the sailor, who was concerned with the loss of the bottle of arack, nor the promptness of one of his comrades to jump into the water to recover it, appeared to concern him. He made various attempts to push the boat free, but the mooring-rope which held it fast making his efforts futile, he was constrained to abandon them, and returned to us, after having given us the most striking example we had ever had of attention and reflection among savage peoples."