<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns:xsi="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema-instance" xsi:schemaLocation="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0 nzetc-p5.xsd" xml:id="Bea01Bank" xml:lang="en">
  <teiHeader>
    <fileDesc xml:id="fileDesc-0001">
      <titleStmt>
        <title type="marc245">The Endeavour Journal of Joseph Banks 1768–1771 [Volume One]</title>
        <title type="sort">Endeavour Journal of Joseph Banks 1768–1771 [Volume One]</title>
        <title type="gmd">[electronic resource]</title>
        <author>
          <name key="name-123818" type="person">Joseph Banks</name>
        </author>
        <editor>
          <name key="name-207379" type="person">J. C. Beaglehole</name>
        </editor>
        <respStmt xml:id="respStmt-0001">
          <resp>Creation of machine-readable version</resp>
          <name key="name-121582" type="organisation">Keyboarded by Aptara, Inc.</name>
        </respStmt>
        <respStmt xml:id="respStmt-0002">
          <resp>Creation of digital images</resp>
          <name key="name-121582" type="organisation">Aptara, Inc.</name>
        </respStmt>
        <respStmt xml:id="respStmt-0003">
          <resp>Conversion to TEI.2-conformant markup</resp>
          <name key="name-121582" type="organisation">Aptara, Inc.</name>
        </respStmt>
      </titleStmt>
      <extent>ca. 1618 kilobytes</extent>
      <publicationStmt>
        <publisher>
          <name key="name-121602" type="organisation">New Zealand Electronic Text Centre</name>
        </publisher>
        <pubPlace>Wellington, New Zealand</pubPlace>
        <authority>
          <name key="name-111622" type="person">Tim Beaglehole</name>
        </authority>
        <idno type="etc">Modern English, Bea01Bank</idno>
        <availability status="unknown">
          <p>Publicly accessible</p>
          <p n="public">URL: http://www.nzetc.org/collections.html</p>
          <p>copyright 2007, by Victoria University of Wellington</p>
        </availability>
        <date when="2007">2007</date>
      <idno type="vuw-bbid">244330</idno></publicationStmt>
      <notesStmt xml:id="notesStmt-0001">
        <note xml:id="page-images">
				</note>
      </notesStmt>
      <sourceDesc xml:id="sourceDesc-0001">
        <biblFull>
          <titleStmt>
            <title>
              <name key="name-401747" type="work">The Endeavour Journal of Joseph Banks 1768–1771 [Volume One]</name>
            </title>
            <author>
              <name key="name-123818" type="person">Joseph Banks</name>
            </author>
            <editor>
              <name key="name-207379" type="person">J. C. Beaglehole</name>
            </editor>
          </titleStmt>
          <publicationStmt>
            <publisher>
              <name key="name-101069" type="organisation">Angus &amp; Robertson Ltd</name>
            </publisher>
            <date when="1962">1962</date>
            <idno type="callno">Source copy consulted: Victoria University of Wellington Library, G420 C7 B218 E</idno>
          </publicationStmt>
        </biblFull>
      </sourceDesc>
    </fileDesc>
    <encodingDesc>
      <editorialDecl>
        <p>All unambiguous end-of-line hyphens have been removed and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line, except in the case of those words that break over a page.</p>
      </editorialDecl>
      <classDecl>
        <taxonomy xml:id="nzetc-subjects">
          <bibl>
            <title>NZETC Subject Headings</title>
          </bibl>
        </taxonomy>
      </classDecl>
    </encodingDesc>
    <profileDesc xml:id="profileDesc-0001">
      <textClass>
        <keywords scheme="http://www.nzetc.org/nzetc-subjects">
          <list>
            <item>
              <rs key="subject-000007" type="subject">Autobiography; Biography; Journals; Correspondence</rs>
            </item>
          </list>
        </keywords>
        <keywords scheme="http://www.example.org/folksonomy">
          <term>
            <name key="name-123818" type="person">Joseph Banks</name>
          </term>
        </keywords>
      </textClass>
    </profileDesc>
    <revisionDesc xml:id="revisionDesc-0001">
      <change xml:id="change-0001" n="quickProof"><date when="2008-01-14T16:33:32">16:33:32, Monday 14 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Text-proofing of a sample of the text</change>
      <change xml:id="change-0002" n="teiMarkup"><date when="2008-01-15T08:59:34">08:59:34, Tuesday 15 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Conversion to TEI.2-conformat markup</change>
      <change xml:id="change-0003" n="scriptedMarkup"><date when="2008-01-22T16:17:21">16:17:21, Tuesday 22 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Adding name markup</change>
      <change xml:id="change-0004" n="encodingDesc"><date when="2008-01-22T16:17:25">16:17:25, Tuesday 22 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Addition of encodingDesc</change>
      <change n="addBibls"><date when="2008-01-22T16:24:57">16:24:57, Tuesday 22 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Addition of bibls</change>
      <change n="assembleImages"><date when="2008-01-23T09:04:42">09:04:42, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Assembled all images</change>
      <change n="derivativeCreation"><date when="2008-01-23T10:25:50">10:25:50, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Creation of derivative images</change>
      <change n="teiValidation"><date when="2008-01-23T10:25:53">10:25:53, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Validation of TEI</change>
      <change n="nameValidation"><date when="2008-01-23T10:25:56">10:25:56, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Validation of names</change>
      <change n="utf8Conversion"><date when="2008-01-23T12:05:26">12:05:26, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Conversion to Unicode (utf-8)</change>
      <change n="makeProduction"><date when="2008-01-23T12:14:34">12:14:34, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Promotion to production</change>
      <change n="drmAddition"><date when="2008-01-23T16:52:00">16:52:00, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Addition of text to access control</change>
      <change n="harvestTopicMap"><date when="2008-01-23T16:52:00">16:52:00, Wednesday 23 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Harvest into Topic Map</change>
      <change n="browserCheck"><date when="2008-01-28T11:50:48">11:50:48, Monday 28 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Checking of text using browser</change>
      <change n="corpusAddition"><date when="2008-01-28T11:52:41">11:52:41, Monday 28 January 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-134482">Max Sullivan</name>Addition of text to corpus</change>
      <change n="catalogueAddition"><date when="2008-04-10T11:46:47">11:46:47, Thursday 10 April 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="person" key="name-121584">Jason Darwin</name>Addition of text to Library Catalogue<!-- BBID=244330 --></change>
      <change n="live"><date when="2008-09-23T14:46:51">14:46:51, Tuesday 23 September 2008</date><label>editorial</label><name type="organisation" key="name-121602">NZETC</name>Make text available on NZETC website</change>
    <change n="epubPreparation"><date when="2009-08-04T14:06:15">14:06:15, Tuesday 4 August 2009</date><name type="organisation" key="name-121602">NZETC</name>Preparation of EPUB (and other formats such as DaisyBook)</change></revisionDesc>
  </teiHeader>
  <text xml:id="t1">
    <front xml:id="t1-front">
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d1" type="covers">
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankFCo">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankFCo.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankFCo-g"/>
            <figDesc>Front Cover</figDesc>
          </figure>
        </p>
        <!--<p>
					<figure entity="Bea01Bank001" id="Bea01BankSpi">
						<figDesc>Spine</figDesc>
					</figure>
				</p>-->
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankBCo">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankBCo.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankBCo-g"/>
            <figDesc>Back Cover</figDesc>
          </figure>
        </p>
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankTit">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankTit.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankTit-g"/>
            <figDesc>Title Page</figDesc>
          </figure>
        </p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n1"/>
      <pb xml:id="n2"/>
      <pb xml:id="n3"/>
      <pb xml:id="n4"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d2" type="halftitle">
        <p>
          <hi rend="c">The Sir Joseph Banks Memorial<lb/>
						The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> Journal<lb/>
						of Joseph Banks<lb/>
						in Two Volumes<lb/> 
						Volume I</hi>
        </p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n5"/>
      <pb xml:id="n6"/>
      <pb xml:id="n7"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d3" type="frontispiece">
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankP001a">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankP001a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP001a-g"/>
            <head><hi rend="c">
                <name key="name-123818" type="person">Joseph Banks</name>
              </hi><lb/>
              <hi rend="i">from the painting by <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name></hi></head>
          </figure>
        </p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n8"/>
      <titlePage xml:id="t1-front-d3-d1">
        <docTitle>
          <titlePart type="main">
            <hi rend="c">The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> Journal<lb/>
							of<lb/>
							Joseph Banks<lb/>
							1768–1771</hi>
          </titlePart>
        </docTitle>
        <byline><hi rend="lsc">Edited by</hi><lb/><docAuthor><hi rend="c"><name type="person" key="name-207379">J. C. Beaglehole</name></hi></docAuthor><lb/><hi rend="c">Volume I</hi><lb/><hi rend="lsc">The Trustees of<lb/>
						the Public Library of New South Wales<lb/>
						in Association with Angus and Robertson</hi><pb xml:id="n9"/><hi rend="i">First published in 1962</hi><lb/><hi rend="c">Angus &amp; Robertson Ltd</hi><lb/>
					89 Castlereagh Street, Sydney<lb/>
					54–58 Bartholomew Close, London<lb/>
					66 Elizabeth Street, Melbourne<lb/>
					168 Willis Street, Wellington<lb/>
					<hi rend="i">Copyright</hi><lb/>
					<hi rend="i">Set in Monotype Baskerville 11 point<lb/>
						Text printed on Burnie Mill Antique Wove<lb/>
						Illustrations printed by<lb/>
						L. Van Leer and Co., N.V., Amsterdam</hi><lb/>
					<hi rend="lsc">Printed in Australia by Halstead Press, Sydney</hi></byline>
      </titlePage>
      <pb xml:id="n10" n="v"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d4" type="foreword">
        <head><hi rend="c">Foreword<lb/>
						The Sir Joseph Banks Memorial</hi></head>
        <p><hi rend="sc">This</hi> book is published by the Trustees of the Public Library of New South Wales as the first part of the State's memorial to Sir Joseph Banks. It contains the journal of the voyage with Captain James Cook in the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, which in April 1770 brought Banks to the eastern shores of Australia.</p>
        <p>The Sir Joseph Banks Memorial had its origin in a public meeting held in Sydney on 25th May 1905, under the inspiration of J. H. Maiden, F.R.S. (1859–1925), one of Australia's foremost botanists. The appointment of an executive committee of ten with Sir Francis Suitor as president and Maiden as honorary secretary followed. A fund was subsequently raised, partly by public subscription but mainly by the sale of Maiden's book, <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks: The “Father of Australia</hi>”, which was published in 1909.</p>
        <p>The executive committee generally favoured a memorial in the form of a statue and in addition, if funds were sufficient, a university scholarship. However, in 1937 upon the death of Sir Daniel Levy, its last surviving member, the committee ceased to exist. Six years later, when the fund had increased to £1,089 1,089 15s 9d, the Parliament of New South Wales passed the <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks Memorial Fund Act</hi>, 1943, which established a Trust to ‘consider how the fund may be utilized for the purpose of providing a suitable and fitting memorial to perpetuate the memory and services of Sir Joseph Banks’. K. R. Cramp, O.B.E., was chairman of the Trust.</p>
        <p>Upon the presentation of the Trust's report, including a minority report, a further Act was passed, the <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks Memorial Act</hi>, 1945, which repealed the Act of 1943 and vested the fund in the Trustees of the Public Library of New South Wales, upon trust, ‘to apply the same in or towards defraying the cost of editing, publishing and distributing the Banks Papers in a manner and form suitable and fitting to the memory and services of Sir Joseph Banks’. On 8th March, 1946, when the fund was transferred to the Trustees, it amounted to £3,941 14s 3d, including a Government grant of £2,000 and a gift of £500 by Mr E. J. L. (now Sir Edward) Hallstrom.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n11" n="vi"/>
        <p>The Trustees immediately began their primary task of finding an editor with the necessary high qualifications. After a comprehensive survey of the relevant field of scholarship they invited <name type="person" key="name-207379">Dr J. C. Beaglehole</name> to assume the task, and he consented to make a beginning of it with an edition of this journal.</p>
        <p>Arrangements were then made through the Prime Minister of New Zealand with the result that Victoria University College (now Victoria University of Wellington), generously permitted Dr Beaglehole, as Senior Research Fellow, to undertake the work as part of his normal duties. The Trustees here record their warm thanks to the Government of New Zealand, to the Council of Victoria University College, and to its Principal at that time, the late Sir Thomas Hunter, for their part in enabling Dr Beaglehole thus to act; and they particularly express their appreciation to Dr Beaglehole himself for his determination to make the memorial a worthy one.</p>
        <p>The Trustees propose, as time and funds permit, to add to the Sir Joseph Banks Memorial by the publication of further volumes of the Banks Papers, many of which, like his original journal here reproduced, are in their possession.</p>
        <p>H. V. <hi rend="lsc">Evatt</hi></p>
        <p>
          <hi rend="i">President of the Trustees</hi>
        </p>
        <p>G. D. <hi rend="lsc">Richardson</hi></p>
        <p>
          <hi rend="i">Principal Librarian and Secretary</hi>
        </p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n12" n="vii"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d5" type="preface">
        <head><hi rend="c">Preface</hi></head>
        <p><hi rend="sc">The</hi> aim of this volume is, primarily, to print the text of Banks's <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal as carefully edited and annotated as seems adequate to its importance. There is, however, supplementary material. From the great mass of Banks papers that exists in the Mitchell Library and other depositories in Australia and England, a number intimately connected with Banks's part in the voyage are important enough, it is thought, for inclusion as appendices. To these have been added certain other papers, relevant to Banks's refusal to sail on Cook's second voyage. Between about half and three quarters only of the journal has been printed before, and only a very few pages of the appendices; and what has been printed has appeared with various degrees of inaccuracy, whether of deliberate purpose or through carelessness.</p>
        <p>An introduction, of some sort, to the journal seemed necessary, to give the reader his bearings. The precise form to be taken by it was not, however, immediately apparent; for the present editor had already dealt at length with the voyage of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> in an introduction to Cook's own journal;<note xml:id="fn1-vii" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">The Journals of Captain James Cook</hi>, Vol. I, Cambridge University Press for the Hakluyt Society, 1955.</p></note> and there was a quite vast amount of material that could be drawn on illustrative of Banks. As his figure bulks so largely in the scientific and social history of his time, it was concluded that a general essay on ‘The Young Banks’ might throw some light on the place of the journal in its writer's own development, as well as on his, and consequently on its, relation to that history.</p>
        <p>The draft of such an essay, based on the usual secondary sources, although supplemented by the Mitchell Library papers, showed only too clearly the lacunae, the dubieties, and the lack of documentation in the brief biographies that are all that have been vouchsafed to Banks; and much work on manuscript and other material previously used, as well as on the unused, was necessary before any satisfactory story could be told. It is hoped that the essay now printed, tied down as firmly as possible to verifiable references, will not merely do what was first planned for it, but will provide the beginnings of a much-needed new approach to a biographical subject as complex as it is rich. The reader will find a good deal of quotation incorporated, both in the text and in the footnotes. If he
					<pb xml:id="n13" n="viii"/>
					is already a student of Banks, some of the passages may seem to him familiar; but they are new, it is hoped, in being printed correctly. The majority of them, like so much else in the book, have not been printed before; and it is hoped, also, that they both illuminate the study in a way otherwise impossible and indicate the nature of the material. It would be too much to hope that the work is immaculate. The ground occupied by Banks in the eighteenth century has had too little attention from the historian, passionately as he has explored the politics and the literature and the scandal of the age, for one to feel more than provisionally satisfied with one's own results.</p>
        <p>The papers to which I have had access, apart from the great collection in the Mitchell Library, are widely scattered. By gracious permission of Her Majesty the Queen, I have been enabled to use, and to quote from, the Georgian Papers preserved in the Royal Library at Windsor. I am deeply indebted to the owners of other collections, who so immediately and so generously gave me the freedom of them. For such freedom my thanks go to Viscount Hinchingbrooke, M.P.; Lord Brabourne; Sir David Hawley and Dr J. W. F. Hill of Lincoln; <name type="person" key="name-401990">Mr Warren R. Dawson</name>, F.R.S.E., F.S.A., of Bletchley, Buckinghamshire (who has helped me also in other ways); and Mr Kenneth A. Webster of London. I am indebted likewise to the librarians who have in their charge Banks and other MSS, and have allowed me to exploit their kindness: namely those of the Commonwealth National Library, Canberra; the Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington; the <name key="name-200020" type="organisation">Auckland Public Library</name>; the Department of Manuscripts of the British Museum; the libraries of the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> (Natural History), the Herbarium at Kew, the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>, the Society of Antiquaries, the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich; the Sheffield Public Libraries; and the McGill University Library, Montreal.</p>
        <p>In the work of annotation I owe further debts. The principal of these, in fields quite beyond my competence—those of natural history—are due to <name type="person" key="name-208516">Dr Averil M. Lysaght</name> of London and <name type="person" key="name-402001">Professor Joseph Ewan</name> of Tulane University, New Orleans—scholars learned, the one in the zoology, the other in the botany, of the eighteenth century. Without their professional knowledge, and their close acquaintance with the scientific records of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> voyage, the proper presentation of the journal would have been out of the question. So far as this work is one of scientific interpretation, it is also one of large collaboration, and I am happy to make the fact clear. Dr Lysaght has also been good enough to co-ordinate a great number of suggestions from zoological specialists at the British
					<pb xml:id="n14" n="ix"/>
					Museum (Natural History), who have my gratitude: the late Sir Norman Kinnear, Dr H. W. Parker (Keeper of Zoology), Dr G. O. Evans, Dr F. C. Fraser, Dr I. Gordon, Dr J. P. Harding, Mr N. B. Marshall, Dr T. C. S. Morrison-Scott, Mr A. K. Totton, the late Mr Guy L. Wilkins, Mr N. D. Riley (formerly Keeper of Entomology), Mr F. C. Sawyer, and Dr I. H. H. Yarrow. On the botanical side, Mr W. T. Stern and Miss M. R. J. Edwards have been very helpful. In England I owe thanks also to Dr W. R. P. Bourne of Hove. Among New Zealand scholars I am much indebted to the advice of <name type="person" key="name-207921">Dr R. A. Falla</name> and his colleagues of the <name key="name-005372" type="organisation">Dominion Museum</name>, Wellington, and to Mr I. L. Thomsen of the Carter Observatory, Wellington; in Australia to Miss Patricia Kott and <name type="person" key="name-401796">Dr D. L. Serventy</name> of the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organization, to Mr A. Musgrave of the Australian Museum, Sydney, and to Mr R. H. Anderson, curator of the Botanic Gardens, Sydney. On a number of specific points (not only scientific ones) I have acknowledged help to other friends and informants in the relevant footnotes.</p>
        <p>In the fields of linguistics, ethnology and history I have received assistance from Sir Richard Winstedt, F.B.A., Professor C. R. Boxer, of King's College, London, the late <name type="person" key="name-102890">Mr J. Frank Stimson</name> of Papeete, Dr Donald S. Marshall of the Peabody Museum of Salem; and in New Zealand, from Mr T. R. Smith, <name type="person" key="name-120828">Mr J. M. McEwen</name>, the late <name type="person" key="name-208387">Mr Leslie G. Kelly</name>, and the collections of the <name key="name-005372" type="organisation">Dominion Museum</name>. In naval and maritime affairs I have been helped by Mr G. P. B. Naish and Miss Katherine Lindsay-McDougall of the National Maritime Museum; in geographical and cartographical history as well as in other matters—and as always—by Mr R. A. Skelton of the British Museum. For assistance in the selection of illustrations I am obliged to Miss Janet D. Hine and Miss Heather Sherrie; for seemingly interminable typing and re-typing, over a period of years, to Mrs Rita Hollings and Miss Rona Arbuckle, at different times of my University, to Mrs Dorothy I. Croucher, of New Zealand House, London, and to Mrs Ilse Jacoby of Wellington. The index— no inconsiderable matter—is the work of Miss Sherrie. Though I leave to the last the name of <name type="person" key="name-401973">Miss Phyllis Mander Jones</name>, lately Mitchell Librarian and now Australian Joint Copying Project Officer in London, I do so but to emphasize my very real obligations, also, for her side of a long correspondence, her own explorations of the Banks papers and Parkinson drawings, and her patience at the ever-new demands I have made upon her energies.</p>
        <p>The attention I have paid to the English sources—both in the
					<pb xml:id="n15" n="x"/>
					introduction and in the body of the book—would have been impossible, at a time when it was very much needed, without the Carnegie Commonwealth Fellowship conferred upon me by the Institute of Commonwealth Studies of the University of London in 1955–56; and to the Institute, and to its then Director, Sir Keith Hancock, I tender my heartfelt thanks for the most friendly and generous way in which they allowed me to proceed unimpeded with my own work, dissimilar as it was in time and content from the subjects of seminars to which I might not unjustly have been expected to make some contribution.</p>
        <p>Finally I must thank my own University. New Zealand universities are not so well-endowed financially that one of them can easily support a member of its staff whose time is almost entirely devoted to research and publication. I am very conscious of the episode in university history that led to this result in my case, and of my good fortune in my College—as it was for the greater part of the time I have worked on these volumes—and my colleagues. To say more could lead only to cumbrous explanation; to say less would be to do less than justice both to my academic home and to my sense of gratitude.</p>
        <p>J. C. <hi rend="c">Beaglehole</hi></p>
        <p><hi rend="lsc">Victoria University of Wellington</hi></p>
        <p><hi rend="i">October</hi> 1959</p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n16" n="xi"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d6" type="contents">
        <head><hi rend="c">Contents</hi></head>

          <table rows="7" cols="2">
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">Foreword</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n10">v</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">Preface</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n12">vii</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">List of Illustrations</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n18">xiii</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">List of Abbreviations</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n32">xxvii</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">Introduction: The Young Banks</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n1">1</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">Textual Introduction</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n170">127</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell><hi rend="lsc">Printing and Annotation</hi></cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n192">147</ref></cell>
            </row>
          </table>

        <p>
          <hi rend="c">The Journal</hi>
        </p>

          <table rows="3" cols="3">
            <row>
              <cell>I</cell>
              <cell>25 AUGUST 1768- 12 APRIL 1769</cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n198">153</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>II</cell>
              <cell>13 APRIL 1769- 14 AUGUST 1769</cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n301">252</ref></cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>III</cell>
              <cell>15 AUGUST 1769–30 MARCH 1770</cell>
              <cell><ref target="#n446">387</ref></cell>
            </row>
          </table>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n17"/>
      <pb xml:id="n18" n="xiii"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d7" type="illustrations">
        <head><hi rend="c">List of Illustrations<lb/>
						Volume I</hi></head>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d7-d1">
          <head><hi rend="i">Note</hi></head>
          <p>All the illustrations of the journal are taken from drawings—water colour, wash, pen or pencil—by Sydney Parkinson, unless otherwise specified. Most of the originals, when unsigned, can be attributed with a fair amount of confidence.</p>
          <p>The topographical and ethnographical drawings are preserved in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, Department of Manuscripts, Add. MSS 9345, 15508, 23920 and 23921. The only ones not done on the spot during the voyage appear to be those which John Frederick Miller, one of the artists Banks maintained in London, made of the artifacts brought home. They are very carefully and precisely done.</p>
          <p>The botanical and zoological drawings are in the British Museum (Natural History), South Kensington, bound up in volumes, 18 in the Botanical Library, 3 in the Zoological Library. Of the botanical volumes there are the following: Madeira 1, Brazil 1, Tierra del Fuego 1, <name key="name-032033" type="place">Society Islands</name> (including Tahiti) 3, New Zealand 4, Australia 7, Java 1. The Society Islands volumes are wrongly named on the spine as ‘<name key="name-020057" type="place">Friendly Islands</name>’. The zoological volumes are (as named on the spine) 1 <hi rend="i">Mammalia. Aves. Amphibia</hi>, 2 <hi rend="i">Pisces</hi>, 3 <hi rend="i">Insecta, Vermes.</hi> But there are fish in the first volume. The birds have been fully described in <name type="person" key="name-208516">Averil Lysaght</name>'s excellent <hi rend="i">Some Eighteenth Century Bird Paintings in the Library of Sir Joseph Banks</hi> (British Museum [Natural History] Bulletin, Hist. Series, Vol. I, No. 6, London 1959).</p>
          <p>During the earlier part of the voyage Parkinson, by working extremely hard, was able to finish his coloured drawings of plants, though not of zoological subjects; and some of both sorts are quite exquisite. By the time the New Zealand collections came on board, however, he could not keep up, and on the Australian coast he was overwhelmed. He was, it must be remembered, acting also as topographical draughtsman, mainly in wash, and doing the best he could for the figure. Some of his figure drawings, of course, are appallingly amateurish, though they have considerable value outside the artistic; but he could also rise to his Maori heads. The plan he adopted with the plants was to make pencil outlines, add a little colour to indicate the key, and make notes on the back for his guidance in finishing the work later. An example of this is Pl. 16a in Vol. II, <hi rend="i">Crepis novae-zelandiae.</hi> He sometimes was able to make a second, finished drawing himself, but not often. In the end it was Banks's other botanical draughtsmen, <name type="person" key="name-401833">Frederick Polydore Nodder</name>, <name key="name-402316" type="person">John Frederick
						<pb xml:id="n19" n="xiv"/>
						Miller</name>, <name key="name-402317" type="person">James Miller</name>, and <name type="person" key="name-124695">James Cleveley</name>, who in England, over a long period of years, executed the finished water colour drawings, always sticking closely to Parkinson. The work of Nodder is particularly rich. On the back of the unfinished drawings, now bound up with the finished ones, Banks usually himself noted where the plant was found. As the actual plants in their hundreds are still preserved in the Banks herbarium at South Kensington, and Solander's careful descriptions still survive among the MSS there, we have thus a very complete record. It was from the finished drawings that the engravings were made for the great botanical work that Banks failed to publish. The engravings are bound up with the drawings, which they reverse. All the reproductions in the present volumes are from the finished water colours, unless otherwise indicated.</p>
          <p>Captions to the plates, where the subjects are botanical or zoological, give the accepted modern scientific names, with the popular or native ones, when known. The other captions follow those of the originals; if it has been necessary to supply one, it has been placed within square brackets. The notes give the source of the individual plate, and whatever information about it seems useful or relevant. Apart from Parkinson and Banks, it is not always easy to identify the writers of notes on the back or the mounts of drawings, though with the differing botanical names one may certainly suspect both <name type="person" key="name-110500">Robert Brown</name> and, more recently, <name key="name-401890" type="person">Britten</name>, who edited the lithographed edition of the Australian engravings, 1900–5. The sizes given for the botanical and zoological drawings are those of the drawings themselves at their maximum extent; those for the topographical and miscellaneous drawings are the sizes of the sheets on which they are made as now bound up—where they are mounted, between the edges of the mount. Exceptions are noted.</p>
          <p>The plates are arranged in roughly chronological order, except for the botanical ones, which form a sort of unity. Departures from either rule are made to avoid oddities in presentation.</p>
          <p>The small drawings reproduced in the text, but not listed here, are from Banks's own illustrations in the manuscript.</p>
          <p>The sketch-maps have been drawn by Miss Valerie Scott and Mr Bruce Irwin. By kind permission of the President and Council of the <name key="name-134486" type="organisation">Hakluyt Society</name>, they have been adapted from those in the Society's edition of the <hi rend="i">Journals of Captain James Cook.</hi></p>
        </div>
        <pb xml:id="n20" n="xv"/>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d7-d2" type="plates">
          <head><hi rend="c">Colour Plates</hi></head>

            <table rows="27" cols="3">
              <row>
                <cell>I.</cell>
                <cell>Joseph Banks</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">
                    <ref target="#n7">frontispiece</ref>
                  </hi></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>From a painting by <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name>. Oil on canvas, 50 × 40 in. The portrait was exhibited at the <name key="name-006265" type="organisation">Royal Academy</name> show of 1773. It is now in the possession of the Hon. Mrs Clive Pearson, of Parham Park, Sussex, by whose kind permission it is reproduced.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>II. </cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Bougainvillea spectabilis</hi> Willd</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n242">196</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Brazil, 24. 36.5 × 23.5 cm. Titled ‘Calyxis-ternaria’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1768.’ Banks has added the name ‘Brasil’ to the bottom right corner. Later inscriptions in pencil are ‘Bougainvillea’ and ‘Buginvillea spectabilis Willd[enow]’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>III. </cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Berberis ilicifolia</hi> Forst.f.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n292"> 244</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Tierra del Fuego 7. 37.1 × 23.5 cm. Titled ‘Berberissempivirens’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ In a later hand ‘sempivirens’ has been lightly scored through in pencil and ‘ilicifolia Forst.’ substituted above.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>IV.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Hibiscus abelmoschus</hi> L.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n310">260</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 15. 39.5 × 25.4 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ In the bottom right corner the pencil note in Banks's hand ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>V.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Barringtonia speciosa</hi> J. R. &amp; G. Forst.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n344">292</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 57. 41.1 × 20.3 cm. Unsigned. The name ‘Barringtonia speciosa Willd.’ is written in pencil in a later hand. The mount bears the title ‘Agasta splendida Miers. On the back are faint pencil notes, ‘Mem the stamina are made rather too short’, ‘56 Butonica splendida’, and, in ink by Banks, ‘Otahite’. There are also two unfinished pencil drawings, Nos. 56 and 58, with notes on the back: 56 ‘Butonica splendida’, and 58, ‘The fruit is bright grass green when dry dark brown’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VI.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Spondias dulcis</hi> Forst.f. Vi or Vi apple</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n362">308</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 30. 45.5 × 28.8 cm. (The height includes the inset drawing of inflorescence.) Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’; pencilled note by Banks, ‘Otaheite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n21" n="xvi"/>
              <row>
                <cell>VII<hi rend="i">a.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Zebrasoma flavescens</hi> Bennett?</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n412">356</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zoological II, <hi rend="i">Pisces 22a.</hi> 7.4 × 8.3 cm. Unsigned. Name ‘Chaetodon an militans’ lower right, in Banks's (?) hand. On the back the pencil notes by Banks, ‘No. 32. Zeus elevatus/ Erapepe’; by Parkinson, ‘Taumatus, the same name with their [word illegible]’; and by Solander, in ink, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VII<hi rend="i">b.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Zanclus cornutus</hi> (L.) Moorish Idol</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n412">356</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 29<hi rend="i">a.</hi> 14 × 9.6 cm. Unsigned, but Dryander has written in lower left, ‘<name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>’. Pencil notes: lower left, '+ ch. Cornutias’; by Parkinson lower right, ‘Tátèhee’ (apparently the island name of the fish), and above the fish, ‘pale blue’. On the back, by Parkinson, ‘there is of this fish as large again’; by Banks, ‘N<hi rend="sup">o</hi> 21 Chaetodon rostratus’; and by Solander, in ink, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VII<hi rend="i">c.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Rhinecanthus aculeatus</hi> (L.)</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n412">356</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, <hi rend="i">Mammalia. Aves. Amphibia</hi>, 59. 8.9 × 17.6 cm. Name ‘<name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>’ in Dryander's hand lower left corner. Lower right, in pencil in Banks's hand, the name ‘Balist aculeatus L.’ and the further names, ‘oidē / Oethi / Oiwe tea’. On the back the pencil note by Parkinson, ‘The colours on the back soften'd in the Orange &amp; purple bright’; by Banks, ‘N<hi rend="sup">0</hi> 50 Balistes ornatus’; and by Solander, in ink, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VIII<hi rend="i">a.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Anisochaetodon falcula</hi> (Bloch) Butterfly-fish</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n430">372</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 22<hi rend="i">b.</hi> 7 × 10 cm. Name in Dryander's hand, ‘<name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>’. Title written later on recto, ‘Ch.falcula (ulietensis, C.V.)’. On the back the pencil note, ‘No. 67 The fish lost’; another note, on colours, some of which is erased and the rest illegible; and in ink, by Banks, ‘Ulhietea’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VIII<hi rend="i">b.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Anisochaetodon vagabundus</hi> (L.) Butterfly-fish</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n430">372</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 30. 9.6 × 15.3 cm. Name in Dryander's hand, ‘<name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>’. Near the tail of the fish is a pencil note by Parkinson, ‘dark chesnut’, and on the lower right, ‘Paraha’; elsewhere on the recto, by others, ‘Ch. vagabundus’, ‘chaet. speciosus Mss/Paraharaha/[word illegible]’; on the back, by Banks, ‘No. 48. Chaetodon aulicus’, and by Solander, in ink, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>VIII<hi rend="i">c.</hi></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Megaprotodon strigangulus</hi> (Gm.) ? Butterfly-fish</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n430">372</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 23<hi rend="i">b.</hi> 6.3 × 12 cm. Name in Dryander's hand, ‘<name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>’. The pencilled name, abbreviated on recto, ‘Ch[aetodon] strigangulus’, is repeated on the back in full, with the note in ink by Banks, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n22" n="xvii"/>
              <row>
                <cell>IX.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Clianthus puniceus</hi> Banks &amp; Soland. ex Lindl. Kaka Beak</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n480">420</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>New Zealand I, 104. 46.8 × 29.6 cm. Unsigned. An unfinished drawing has one flower and a leaf or two coloured, and a pencil note on the back, ‘The capsula a bright yellow green / 118 Clianthus puniceus’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>X.</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Fuchsia excorticata</hi> Linn.f. Kotukutuku or Tree Fuchsia</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n498">436</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>New Zealand I, 162. 47 × 27.5 cm. Signed James Miller pinxt. 1775.’ On the back are the pencil notes ‘Agapanthus calyciflorus’ and ‘Tegadu’ (<name key="name-400751" type="place">Anaura Bay</name>). On the back of the unfinished drawing, No. 161, is the note, ‘The calyx deep Crimson on the inside as are also the filaments &amp; stile the top of which is yellow The petals dark purple the outside of the calyx paler &amp; ting'd w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> green anthera yellow ting'd w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> red the upper part of the leaves dark grass green the under part white w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> a cast of green &amp; vein'd w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> green the capsula green the stalk gray green’.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
            </table>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d7-d3" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="c">Illustrations to the Introduction</hi></head>

            <table rows="12" cols="3">
              <row>
                <cell>i.</cell>
                <cell>Solander</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n70">36</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Blue and white medallion by Wedgwood and Bentley, 3¼ × 2½ in. From a model by Flaxman?</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>ii.</cell>
                <cell>Sydney Parkinson</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n88">52</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>From the engraving by <name type="person" key="name-401897">James Newton</name>, frontispiece to Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Journal of a Voyage to the South Seas</hi>, 1773; 24.5 × 18.5 cm.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>iii.</cell>
                <cell>Mr. Banks</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n106">68</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Mezzotint engraving by J. R. Smith after the portrait by Benjamin West, R.A., 57.3 × 38 cm. The painting was exhibited at the <name key="name-006265" type="organisation">Royal Academy</name> in 1773, but its whereabouts are now unknown. The mezzotint was published 15 April 1773.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>iv.</cell>
                <cell>Banks and Solander</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n124">84</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>From ‘shadows’ by <name type="person" key="name-150150">James Lind</name>. Lind, in a letter from Edinburgh to Banks, dated 2 March 1775 (now in the collection of Mr Kenneth A. Webster), writes, ‘I have lately finished for Miss Burnet, in a neat Oval frame a couple of Shadows done in crayons, the one of you, and the other of Doctor Solander, of the same size as the outlines on the other
								<pb xml:id="n23" n="xviii"/>
								side [of his paper], which look tolerably well…. If Miss Bank[s] will accept of a couple of Shadows done in the same [manner] as these I did for Miss Burnet I will do myself the honour of sending them’. The reproduction is from the letter. For some of Lind's activities with silhouettes see an article by F. Gordon Roe, ‘A Forgotten Group of Profilists’, in <hi rend="i">Apollo</hi>, XXII (1935), pp. 287–9.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>v.</cell>
                <cell>Omai, Banks and Solander</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n158">116</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>From a painting by William Parry, A.R.A. (1742 ?-91). Oil on canvas, 59 × 59 in. Omai in a white robe, Banks in a grey suit, Solander in a red coat. Parry returned to England from Italy in 1775, and the picture must date from that year or the first half of 1776, before Omai left England with Cook. Reproduced by kind permission of Brigadier Charles Hilary Vaughan, D.S.O.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>vi.</cell>
                <cell>The first page of the Journal</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">facing p.</hi>
                  <ref target="#n176">132</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>From the MS in the Mitchell Library, 23.2 × 18 cm.</cell>
                <cell/>
              </row>
            </table>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d7-d4" type="plates">
          <head><hi rend="c">Plates at the end of the Volume</hi></head>

            <table rows="98" cols="2">
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n540">1<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Munida gregaria</hi> (Fabr.)</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. III, <hi rend="i">Insecta Vermes</hi> 9. 13.5 × 8.1 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’, and with title ‘Cancer gregarius.’ Note by Banks in ink on back, ‘Jan<hi rend="sup">ry</hi> 2<hi rend="sup">nd</hi> 1769 / Lat. 37.30.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n540">1<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Glaucus atlanticus</hi> (Forst.)</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. III, 23.9 × 17.5 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> ad vivum 1768’, and with title ‘Mimus-Volutator’. Note by Banks in ink on back, ‘Oct<hi rend="sup">r</hi> 4.1768 / Lat. 11.00.N.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n541">2.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Motacilla flava</hi> L.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, <hi rend="i">Mammalia. Aves. Amphibia</hi> 38<hi rend="i">a.</hi> 15.7 × 20.4 cm. The title on the drawing is ‘Motacilla-avida’. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1768’. Note by Banks in ink on back, ‘Sep<hi rend="sup">tr</hi> 28.1768 / Lat. 19.00 north.’ The bird is a young one.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n542">3.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Volatinia jacarina</hi> (L.) Blue-black Grassquit</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, 37<hi rend="i">b.</hi> 24 × 19.5 cm. Entitled ‘Loxia-nitens’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> ad vivum. 1768’. Note by Banks in lower right corner, ‘Brasil’. Note by Banks in ink on back, ‘of the coast of Brasil Nov<hi rend="sup">r</hi> 8<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 1768’.</cell>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n24" n="xix"/>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n543">4.</ref></cell>
                <cell>A View of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> Watering-place in the Bay of Good Success</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23920, f. 11<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Water colour drawing, 25.1 × 34 cm. Signed ‘<name type="person" key="name-400721">A. Buchan</name> Delin<hi rend="sup">t</hi>’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n544">5.</ref></cell>
                <cell>An Indian Town at Terra del Fuego</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23920, f.12. Wash drawing, 24.2 × 34.1 cm. Signed ‘<name type="person" key="name-400721">A. Buchan</name>. Delin<hi rend="sup">t</hi>’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n545">6.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Phaethon rubricauda</hi> Gm. Red-tailed Tropic Bird</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, 31<hi rend="i">a.</hi> 23.3 × 21.7 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Underneath the signature is written in pencil ‘Tawai’ [Tava'e] Phaeton.erubescens’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n546">7.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti] View of the Fort from the Rock within the Reef</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f. 2<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Pencil drawing, 15.2 × 32.2 cm. Unsigned, but the work and the writing of the title indicate Spöring. Pencil note by Banks on the paper ‘our little Encampment in Otaheite’, repeated on the mount.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n547">8.</ref></cell>
                <cell>View of the Coast &amp; Reef in the district of Papavia</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.7<hi rend="i">a.</hi> Wash drawing, unsigned, by Parkinson, 14.9 × 23.9 cm. A large pandanus on a cliff in foreground, on right double canoe with ‘deck-house’ being paddled, in middle distance canoe shelter, native dwellings, sailing canoe and coconut trees, in background hills and sailing canoes.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n548">9<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti. A Group of Musicians]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 15508, f.10<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Crude drawing, with some water colour, by an unknown executant, on a sheet 26.9 × 36.9 cm. The group itself measures c. 9.6 × 20.8 cm. Two musicians, dressed in the <hi rend="i">maro</hi>, are playing nose-flutes, and two, in the <hi rend="i">tiputa</hi>, playing drums.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n548">9<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahitian Scene]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 15508, f.12. Crude watercolour drawing, by an unknown executant (possibly the artist of f.10<hi rend="i">b.</hi>), 26.8 × 37 cm. The drawing is unfinished, with a number of figures still in pencil outline. In the foreground three canoes, two with fighting-stages in the bows, one with sails and outrigger. In the background a ‘long house’ or <hi rend="i">arioi</hi> house; and trees—left to right a pandanus, a bread-fruit, bananas, a coconut, a tree hard to identify, a taro plant, what is possibly a young casuarina, more coconuts and bananas, and a small pandanus.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n549">10.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti] Men's and Women's Dress</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.36<hi rend="i">b.</hi> and <hi rend="i">e.</hi> Pencil sketches by Parkinson, 18.9 × 15.3 cm. and 16.7 × 15.2 cm. On the sheet on which the sketches
								<pb xml:id="n25" n="xx"/>
								are mounted is written ‘Otaheite’ and ‘Sketches of Inhabitants’. The man is tying a sash round his <hi rend="i">tapa</hi> overgarment or <hi rend="i">tiputa</hi>, and is wearing what may be either a <hi rend="i">pareu</hi> or a <hi rend="i">maro</hi> underneath; the woman is wearing a <hi rend="i">tiputa</hi> over a <hi rend="i">pareu.</hi></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n550">11<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Making <hi rend="i">Tapa</hi>] Woman scraping bark</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.50<hi rend="i">a.</hi> Pencil sketch by Parkinson, unsigned, 16.3 × 20.6 cm. Note at bottom right in Banks's hand, ‘woman scraping bark to make cloth S[outh?] S[ea?]’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n550">11<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Making <hi rend="i">Tapa</hi>] Woman beating cloth</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.50<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Pencil sketch by Parkinson, unsigned, 20.1 × 23.1 cm. Note at bottom right in Banks's hand, ‘women beating cloth’; and a note in ink on the mounting sheet, ‘Girls beating out the Bark with their Cloth beaters’. Both these drawings are much foxed.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n551">12.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti] Sketches of Dancing Girls</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.38<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Pencil sketch by Parkinson, unsigned, 12.2 × 29.8 cm. In addition to the ceremonial <hi rend="i">tapa</hi> garments the girls are wearing head-dresses of <hi rend="i">taamu</hi>, or plaited hair.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n552">13.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti] Distortions of the Mouth used in Dancing</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.51<hi rend="i">a</hi> and <hi rend="i">b.</hi> Pencil sketches by Parkinson, unsigned, both 19 × 16.3 cm. On the back of 51<hi rend="i">a</hi> is a pencil sketch of tattoo-design on the buttocks.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n553">14.</ref></cell>
                <cell>A Tupapow in the Island of Otaheite</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.31<hi rend="i">a.</hi> Wash drawing 23.7 × 37.4 cm., unsigned. On the back of the drawing is written in pencil ‘Ewhatta no te tuobapaow’ (spelling of last word conjectural)—i.e. <hi rend="i">e fata no te tupapau.</hi> A roofed platform with a fence round it; the corpse lies covered with <hi rend="i">tapa.</hi> In the foreground a ‘chief mourner’ in ceremonial dress; young coconuts planted out, a mature coconut with a boy climbing for the nuts, and a tree (Erythrina ?) with a man sitting at its base.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n554">15.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahiti] Dress of the Chief Mourner</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.32. Pencil drawing 23.1 × 18.7 cm., unsigned, probably by Spöring. See p. 288.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n555">16.</ref></cell>
                <cell>A platform for supporting the offerings made to the Dead</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.29<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Wash drawing 23.6 × 37 cm., unsigned. The platform is hung round with cloth, and on it rests a bunch of bananas. Banana trees left foreground and behind, and a coconut middle foreground with a yam vine climbing it.</cell>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n26" n="xxi"/>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n556">17.</ref></cell>
                <cell>View in Ulietea</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.11. Wash drawing 23.6 × 37.3 cm., unsigned. A canoe-house with a large double canoe in it, in the foreground a man carrying coconuts on a stick over his shoulder, and two men in a small outrigger canoe. Various trees and plants, and hills in the background.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n557">18.</ref></cell>
                <cell>Canoe of Ulietea</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.20. Wash drawing 30 × 48.1 cm., unsigned. A two-masted double canoe with sails raised; two shelters built on the deck, one shading a <hi rend="i">tapa</hi>-wrapped child; men dressed in the <hi rend="i">maro</hi> kneeling on ropes; other children, one holding a pig, another drinking from a coconut; a woman leaning on the forward shelter, fowls on the aft one. Other sailing canoes in the background. In lower right corner, three Reef Herons, <hi rend="i">Demigretta sacra.</hi></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n558">19.</ref></cell>
                <cell>Vessels of the Island of Otaha</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.17. Wash drawing 30 × 47.8 cm., unsigned. Left foreground, men and women fishing, one woman nude, with topknot hair-dressing and tattooed buttocks. Right foreground, man paddling raft with coconuts. Middle, small outrigger canoe and large double sailing canoe, with <hi rend="i">tapa</hi>-dressed men and women, fruit, gourd containers, etc. Further canoes in background, hills, and atmospheric effect of sun shining through clouds. ‘Otaha’=Tahaa.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n559">20.</ref></cell>
                <cell>Construction of Canoes</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.23<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Pencil drawings of various details of canoe construction, 27.4 × 22.3 cm., unsigned. Hulls with cross-sections, ‘deck-house’, paddle, mast and rigging. Annotations in Banks's hand.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n560">21.</ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahitian Tattoo-designs]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.51<hi rend="i">c verso</hi>, ink drawing 19.7 × 32.1 cm. The drawing shows the tattooing of the buttocks. See pp. 335.6.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n561">22<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tahitian Weapons]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 23921, f.57<hi rend="i">b.</hi> Wash drawing 20.4 × 16.5 cm. Signed ‘J.F.Miller: del.’; drawn in England from artifacts brought home by Banks. (1) Sting of a ray, used for a spear-point; (2) bow (3) arrow (4) quiver of bamboo. The bow and arrow were not strictly speaking a weapon, but rather ‘sporting equipment’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n561">22<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[South Sea Fish-hooks]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 15508, f.25. Wash drawing 20.5 × 16.5 cm. Signed ‘John Frederick Miller. del.’ Underneath the drawing are pencil notes by Banks identifying the artifacts: ‘1. Decoy to Catch Cuttle fish from Otaheite 2. Hook of Nacre shell from D<hi rend="sup">0</hi> 3. D<hi rend="sup">0</hi> of mother of Pearl from D<hi rend="sup">0</hi> 4. D<hi rend="sup">0</hi> of Wood &amp; bone from New Zeland.’</cell>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n27" n="xxii"/>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n562">23<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[Tapa Beater and Adze]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 15508, f.30. Wash drawing 20.5 × 16.6 cm. Unsigned. Under the drawing is a pencil note by Banks, ‘Tools of the South Sea Isles / a instrument with which they beat out their cloth / b. Hatchet or axe’. A further note gives the size (height) of the beater as 1’ 3” and of the adze as 1’ 11”.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n562">23<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell>[South Sea Artifacts]</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Add. MS 15508, f.31. Wash drawing 20.1 × 16.4 cm. Signed ‘J.F. Miller. 1771’. A pencil note by Banks beneath the drawing lists the articles: ‘Tools &amp;c. from the South Sea Isles / a a flute / b Pestle of Stone to beat down their victuals into a soft paste which is looked upon by them as a delicacy / c small Hatchet the blade of which being taken off [serves <hi rend="i">erased</hi>] a chizzel / d Thatching needle / e Chizzel made of human bone’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n563">24.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Diospyros lotus</hi> L.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Madeira 17. 25.8 × 20.2 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1768.’ The word ‘Linn.’, added in ink to the title on the picture, appears to be in Banks's hand.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n564">25.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Pereskia</hi> sp.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Brazil 1. 18.3 × 30.3 cm. Titled ‘Clusia-dodecapetala’, and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ On the back is the pencilled note, ‘Mem the stamina to be done with Gamboge the stalks &amp;calix green’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n565">26.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Tillandsia stricta</hi> Soland. ex Sims</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Brazil 33. 27.9 × 19 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n566">27<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Apium prostratum</hi> Labill. Wild Celery</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Tierra del Fuego 58.41 × 26.2 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ This is the <hi rend="i">Apium antarcticum</hi> of the Banks and Solander MSS.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n566">27<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Drimys winteri</hi> J. R. &amp; G. Forst. Winter's Bark</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Tierra del Fuego 6.33 .3 × 21 cm. Titled ‘Winterana-aromatica’, and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n567">28.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Pernettya mucronata</hi> Gaud.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Tierra del Fuego 100. 27 × 21.5 cm. Titled ‘Arbutus, rigida’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Above ‘rigida’ in the title has been written in pencil ‘mucronata, Linn.fil.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n568">29.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Crataeva religiosa</hi> Forst.f. Puaraau</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 5. 45.5 × 29 cm. (part of the drawing has been trimmed off). Titled ‘Crataeva frondosa’ and signed ‘Sydney
								<pb xml:id="n28" n="xxiii"/>
								Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ In the lower right-hand corner is a pencil note in Banks's hand, ‘Otahite’; and on the back the following: ‘The flowers that come last out are quite white gaining the purple colour by degrees. The underside of the leaves the same colour as the upper—The capsule is dark green being all cover'd with warts of dirty white’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n569">30.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Gardenia taitensis</hi> DC. Tiare</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 82. 40.6 × 27.2 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Titled ‘Gardenia-florida’, and with a pencil note by Banks, 'Otahite’. The leaf on the right has been trimmed.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n570">31.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Jasminum didymum</hi> Forst.f. Tia-tia mana</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 90. 42.2 × 26.2 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’, with pencil note by Banks ‘Otaheite’. The leaf on the right has been trimmed.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n571">32.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Artocarpus communis</hi> J. R. &amp; G. Forst. Uru or Bread-fruit</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands II, 180.35 × 28.7 cm. Titled ‘Sitodium-altile.’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Over the title is written in pencil, ‘Artocarpus incisa L.fil’, and beneath it a pencil note by Banks (?), ‘Otaheite’. There are two other similar drawings of this plant: (1) No. 179, Unnamed but with pencil note, ‘The leaves dark grass green w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> pale yellow green veins the underside pale green w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> prominent veins, the male flower and spatha pale yellow green, the fruit a yellow green’; (2) No. 181, Sepia drawing signed ‘John Frederick Miller. del.’</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n572">33<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Ficus tinctoria</hi> Forst. Mati</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands II, 167. 39.1 × 26 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’; pencil note by Banks [?], ‘Otaheite’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n572">33<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Cordia subcordata</hi> Lam. Tou</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 100.42.1 × 28.6 cm. Titled ‘Cordia-Sebestena’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’; a pencil note by Banks, ‘Otahite’. The leaves have been trimmed at the sides.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n573">34<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Calophyllum inophyllum</hi> L. Tamanu</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 10. 41.7 × 28.5 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Beneath the title is the pencil note ‘Uahine’ in Banks's hand. The leaf on the left has been trimmed.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n573">34<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Morinda citrifolia</hi> L. Nono</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands I, 77.42 × 28.8 cm. Signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769’; and with a pencil note ‘Ulhietea’.</cell>
              </row>
              <pb xml:id="n29" n="xxiv"/>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n574">35.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Tacca leontopetaloides</hi> (L.) O. Ktze. Pia</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands II, 206. 43.5 × 28.8 cm. Titled ‘Chaitæa-Tacca’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’; a pencil note by Banks, ‘Ulhietea’. The sheet has been trimmed at the top and sides. The wash drawing of the details of the capsule is on a separate piece of paper pasted down. The name of the plant usually accepted has been <hi rend="i">Tacca pinnatifida</hi> Forst.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n575">36.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Piper methysticum</hi> Forst.f. Ava</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands II, 139. 37.8 × 25 cm. Titled ‘Piper-inebrians’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769.’ Pencil note under title, ‘Ulhietea’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n576">37.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Merremia peltata</hi> (L.) Merr.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Society Islands II, 106.43 × 27.7 cm. Titled ‘Convolvulus peltatus’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769’; a pencil note by Banks, ‘Ulhitea’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n577">38.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Cyanoramphus zealandicus</hi> (Latham). Red-rumped Parrot</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, 8. 17.6 × 17.5 cm. Ascribed by Dryander (no doubt correctly) to Parkinson. The right leg and claws and the branch on which the bird is perched are indicated only in pencil. A later pencil note at the bottom of the sheet gives the name as ‘Psittacus pacificus’; and a note at the bottom right, by Parkinson, gives its island name as ‘Aã’ (<hi rend="i">A'a</hi>). The present specific name was given by Latham (1790), who erroneously thought New Zealand was the bird's habitat. It was confined to Tahiti, and was last collected in 1844, about which time presumably it became extinct. On the back are the notes in ink, (1) by Banks, ‘No. 5. Green Peroquet’, and (2) by Solander, ‘Otahite’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n578">39.</ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Vini peruviana</hi> (P.L.S.Müller). Tahitian Blue Lory</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. I, 9. 11.9 × 15 cm. Unsigned pencil drawing, ascribed by Dryander to Parkinson. A pencil note by Parkinson on the front reads, ‘Avinne’. On the back he has written, ‘The face throat &amp; breast white the rem/ &amp; rec/. dirty grey turn<hi rend="sup">g</hi> blue towards the edge the feet &amp; beak a bright Orange Claws black all the rest of the body— w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> dark Ultra-. shaded w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> P.B. like shining steell.’; and a note by Banks, ‘N<hi rend="sup">0</hi>3, Blue Perroquet / Otahite’.—In Parkinson's note ‘rem/ &amp; rec/.’ = ‘remiges &amp; rectrices’, i.e. flight feathers and tail feathers.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n579">40<hi rend="i">a.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Acantherocybium solandri</hi> (C.V.)</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 87.6 × 39.5 cm. Titled ‘Scomber-lanceolatis’ and signed ‘Sydney Parkinson pinx<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 1769’. Below the signature is a note in pencil by Banks(?), ‘Tatea’, and below that Parkinson's note in ink, ‘Mem.
								<pb xml:id="n30" n="xxv"/>
								one Pinulae spuriæ is wanting above &amp; one below.’ On the back is the pencil note by Banks, ‘off thrum cap. Island’.</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell><ref target="#n579">40<hi rend="i">b.</hi></ref></cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">Plectorhinchus orientalis</hi> (Bloch)</cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell/>
                <cell>Zool. II, 77. 10.3 × 24 cm. Ascribed by Dryander to Parkinson. The name ‘Tairhepha’ (<hi rend="i">Tairifa</hi>) is pencilled below the drawing. On the back are the notes (1) by Banks (?), ‘N<hi rend="sup">0</hi> 45. Percoides pica’; (2) by Parkinson, ‘The parts mark'd thus × are white inclining to gray especialy on the finns &amp; on the face reddish, those marked w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> [a sign not possible to print] are black the scales edge'd w<hi rend="sup">t</hi> dirty white, the iris gold colour pupil black.’; (3) by Solander, ‘Otahite’. The marks referred to by Parkinson are not visible on the drawing, and were presumably removed when it was coloured.</cell>
              </row>
            </table>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d7-d5" type="maps">
          <head><hi rend="c">Sketch Maps</hi></head>

            <table rows="5" cols="2">
              <row>
                <cell>1. Matavai Bay</cell>
                <cell><hi rend="i">page</hi> <ref target="#n303">254</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>2. Tahiti</cell>
                <cell><ref target="#n313">262</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>3. The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> in the Society Islands</cell>
                <cell><ref target="#n370">315</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>4. New Zealand, North Island and part of South Island</cell>
                <cell><ref target="#n457">398</ref></cell>
              </row>
              <row>
                <cell>5. New Zealand, South Island</cell>
                <cell><ref target="#n529">466</ref></cell>
              </row>
            </table>

        </div>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n31"/>
      <pb xml:id="n32" n="xxvii"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d12" type="abbreviations">
        <head><hi rend="c">Abbreviations Used in Notes to the Introduction</hi></head>

          <table rows="11" cols="2">
            <row>
              <cell>ALS</cell>
              <cell>Autograph letter signed (MS so classified in the Alexander Turnbull Library).</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>ATL</cell>
              <cell>Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>CAMERON</cell>
              <cell><name type="person" key="name-401862">H. C. Cameron</name>, <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks.</hi> London, 1952.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>D.T.C.</cell>
              <cell>Dawson Turner Copies of Banks correspondence in the Botanical Library of the British Museum (Natural History), South Kensington, London.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>Edward Smith</cell>
              <cell><name type="person" key="name-401816">Edward Smith</name>, <hi rend="i">Life of Sir Joseph Banks.</hi> London, 1911.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>Hawkesworth</cell>
              <cell><name type="person" key="name-150158">John Hawkesworth</name>, <hi rend="i">An Account of the Voyages undertaken by order of his present Majesty for making Discoveries in the Southern Hemisphere</hi>…. London, 1773. (Vols II and III are devoted to the voyage of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour.</hi>)</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>J.E.S.</cell>
              <cell><name type="person" key="name-402013">Sir James Edward Smith</name> (editor), <hi rend="i">A Selection of the Correspondence of Linnaeus, and other Naturalists, from the Original Manuscripts.</hi> 2 vols, London, 1821.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>Kew B.C.</cell>
              <cell>Manuscript Banks correspondence in the Library of the Herbarium, Kew.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>ML</cell>
              <cell>Mitchell Library.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>S.S.B.</cell>
              <cell>Sarah Sophia Banks.</cell>
            </row>
            <row>
              <cell>‘Voluntiers’</cell>
              <cell>A Volume of Banks papers in the Mitchell Library, lettered ‘Voluntiers, Instructions, Provision for 2d. Voyage’.</cell>
            </row>
          </table>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n33"/>
      <pb xml:id="n34"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d13" type="introduction">
        <head><hi rend="c">Introduction<lb/>
						The Young Banks</hi></head>
        <p><hi rend="sc">What</hi> shall we call the eighteenth century? How often, and how vainly, has it been summarized in a phrase! — stuffed into a single garment, as it were, from which it bursts at every seam, its uncontrollable, magnificent, startling life forcing itself upon the eye of the beholder in lavish and indecent contradiction. It was an Age, there seems no doubt of that — the Age of the Despots, of Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, of Oratory, of Gin, the Mercantilist Age, the Age of the Augustans, the Age of Rococo, the Age of Johnson. There can be no harm, thinking of England, to which Johnson so immediately and forthrightly brings us, in conferring another name, no more nor less adequate: let us call those busy decades — or a sufficient selection of them — the Age of the Gentleman Amateur. For the century was, in so much of its activity, pre-professional. One must not say merely dilettante: that would be unjust. In the first place, the word has subtly changed its meaning; in the second, though the dilettante throve, never did he have a choicer field for his activity; never did dilettantism become, as with <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name>, so exquisitely almost professional in itself. But no one would call dilettanti those men of profound scientific activity, <name type="person" key="name-150227">Joseph Priestley</name> and <name type="person" key="name-170617">Henry Cavendish</name>, any more than one would call this nonconformist minister and this recluse of a ducal family professional scientists. Was <name key="name-402318" type="person">Lord Burlington</name> merely dilettante in architecture, or <name key="name-402319" type="person">Gibbon</name> in history, or <name type="person" key="name-401859">Gilbert White</name> in natural history ? Or <name key="name-111281" type="person">Arthur Young</name> in agriculture, or that equally assiduous traveller, <name key="name-160030" type="person">Thomas Pennant</name>, in zoology, or in the free field of general observation and antiquities ? And for how many hundreds of the obscure do these large figures stand! — the country parsons devoted to local history, in at the birth, almost, of British archaeology; the scholars who had escaped from the common room and the port; the nobility who had no taste for gaming or politics — though was not politics itself, whatever its savagery and cupidity, its attraction
						<pb xml:id="n35" n="2"/>
						for men on the make, still one of the great preserves of the Gentleman Amateur?</p>
        <p>Science, above all, apart from politics, it is that comes to the aid of a generalization that may often seem to totter dangerously: there is so much that rushes forth as contrary evidence in literature and art and architecture, in theology and even in prize-fighting. Science had not been organized, Science was not at all professional and most imperfectly academic; Science, as we know it today, was almost at the beginning of things; and yet Science was popular. The educated classes of England, as of France, made it a cult; that most unscientific figure Dr Johnson was throughout his life given to ‘chemical experiments’. True, in the mid-century it was long since <name type="person" key="name-150229">Sir Isaac Newton</name>'s <hi rend="i">Principia</hi> had begun to send its ceaseless eddies through the European mind; true, by 1760 the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> had enjoyed a hundred years of irregularly scientific life; but even the Royal Society was predominantly a society of Gentlemen, and of amateurs. Science, indeed, as <name key="name-150227" type="person">Priestley</name> tinkered with his apparatus, and <name key="name-170617" type="person">Cavendish</name> plumbed new depths of analytic thought, and Western Civilization sailed in ships bearing the beneficent gifts of Commerce and of War to the uttermost bounds of the earth, saw empires expanding which had before been only a dream. Empires were for conquest, arduous but exhilarating: to the votaries of the descriptive, of geography, of zoology, of botany, how fair the prospect! How almost intoxicating the scene on which the natural historian could look forth, the young disciple of <name key="name-150199" type="person">Linnaeus</name>! — for it is that light, famous, venerable, omnipresent, that shines above our travellers, that presence that irradiates their farthest wanderings; there in Uppsala is the centre and bosom of learning from which, almost, all proceeds, to which all returns. To be the pupil of Linnaeus, his friend, his correspondent, his informant — this was to be sealed with the seal of a new virtue, this was to be enlisted under a banner, to be one of a brotherhood, to have a master and a father, and in Nature an intellectual home. Not even the great Buffon ever stood in quite this relation with European science. Should we, then, speak of the Age of Linnaeus? We might do worse; but it does not really matter. What matters was that science was both widening and deepening the scope of its command: not always with true learning, sometimes almost accidentally — led sometimes from old myth to new myth, undermining new as well as old with new experience. And now rose up, indeed, within Natural History, something new, something incomparably exciting, Man in the state of nature: the Noble Savage entered the study
						<pb xml:id="n36" n="3"/>
						and the drawing-room of Europe in naked majesty, to shake the preconceptions of morals and of politics. He was not, it is true, universally admired, and behind him came illimitable files of savages something less than noble, insufficiently elegant, beings whose natural state caused the philosopher embarrassment. There were cultivated persons who, like <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name>, were not entertained: scholars who, like Dr Johnson, refused to be instructed. But the science of ethnology was born.</p>
        <p>So, on the scene of our scrutiny, into this busy age, steps the figure of <name key="name-123818" type="person">Joseph Banks</name>, the gifted, the fortunate youth: enthusiastic, curious, the voyager, the disciple of <name key="name-150199" type="person">Linnaeus</name>, the botanist and zoologist, the devotee of savages; not yet, as one examines his early career, a Public Figure, but certainly a Gentleman, certainly a figure typical of his age; and certainly as much as anyone, and more than most, the Gentleman Amateur of Science.</p>
        <p>Joseph Banks came from that enviable class the landed gentry; close enough to the land to draw common sense from it, and with enough of it to draw from it also a handsome revenue; with brains enough, indeed, unlike some country gentry, to repay education, and with wealth more than enough to allow of a town as well as country existence, and of a standing in society which no mere rural squire could claim. The family was a Lincolnshire one; its seat was Revesby Abbey, not far from Boston; as the fens were drained its wealth increased, and intelligent management made its standing still greater.<note xml:id="fn1-3" n="1"><p>For the outline of Banks's ancestry here given, I have relied on his own notes, now in the possession of <name type="person" key="name-401990">Mr Warren R. Dawson</name>, Dawson MS 47. They are filled out in Dr J. W. F. Hill's excellent introduction to his edition of the <hi rend="i">Letters and Pabers of the Banks Family of Revesby Abbey 1704–1760</hi>, Lincoln Record Society, Vol. 45 (Lincoln 1952).</p></note> Joseph's seventeenth century great-grandfather, another Joseph, was not merely wealthy, from his business as an attorney and from property transactions, but a member of parliament, for Grimsby and then for Totnes, and — we begin to see something of his descendant — an antiquary. His son, also Joseph, also an antiquary, also a member of parliament — for Peterborough — rebuilt Revesby church, served as sheriff of the county, and was a fellow of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>. This Joseph's son Joseph died in his twenties, unmarried, so that it was a William, a second son, who next came to the estate — member for Grampound, deputy-lieutenant of Lincolnshire, an agricultural improver, whose favourite pursuit, said his son, was drainage — i.e. drainage of the fens. William does not seem to have shone in antiquarian
						<pb xml:id="n37" n="4"/>
						or other intellectual pursuits, but we can see a sort of family pattern. It is a respectable pattern, of service to, as well as profit from, the land, of prominent public duties met in the conventional way, of intelligent interest in affairs, of some mild feeling for learning. The hereditary cell-structure which lay behind the disposition of this respectable pattern was perhaps given a slight twist by the marriage of William Banks to Sarah, eldest daughter of William Bate of Derbyshire, in 1741; for while we can see the same elements in the make-up of the next Joseph, who was born on 13 February 1743,<note xml:id="fn1-4" n="1"><p>There has been a little confusion, to which Banks himself unwittingly contributed, over the date of his birth. In the latest life, <name type="person" key="name-401862">Dr H. C. Cameron</name>'s <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks</hi> (London 1952), p. I, n., the date is given as ‘February 2nd, 1743 O.S.’ and Cameron adds, ‘Lord Brougham, in giving the correct date and place, tells us that he has it “from a note in his own hand which lies before me”. This note may possibly be one of the memoranda now in the possession of <name type="person" key="name-401990">Mr Warren Dawson</name>, which Dr Cameron quotes (p. 284) as ‘Born 1743 Feb 2nd old style….’ But ‘February 2nd, 1743 O.S.’ would be 13 February 1744 New Style; and it is evident that Banks intended his ‘old style’ to apply merely to the day of the month, not to the year. This is borne out by a birth-certificate, now in the Public Library, Dunedin, New Zealand, copied from the register of the church of St James, Westminster, and dated 15 November 1753. This gives the date of birth as 2 February 1742—i.e. O.S. (the modern, or Gregorian, calendar was not adopted in Great Britain till 1752). Notes at the bottom of the document in Banks's hand begin ‘Born Feb 13 1743’ (i.e. N.S.), and go on to the dates of his entry to Harrow, Eton and Oxford, as given below.</p></note> in Argyle Street, Westminster, something has happened. With this new Joseph, everything is intensified, though the parliamentary tradition is broken: intelligence both deepens and widens, the affairs which claim his interest are practically everything except politics, interest becomes organization; the moderation of the polite antiquary is transformed into a consuming devotion to natural history, the travels from Lincolnshire to London become travels round the world, the county magnate becomes an international figure. One of the queer English excursions into individuality has happened. There has been also, it seems, a rise in the family's social fortunes: a sister of William Banks, Margaret, the delightful and radiant beauty Peggy Banks, for whom the Duke of Cumberland panted to give balls, married the Honourable Henry Grenville, and so came into a formidably aristocratic connection; her only child, Louisa, our Joseph's cousin, became the second wife of the third <name type="person" key="name-401812">Earl Stanhope</name>; and Sarah Banks's sister Hannah Sophia, Joseph's aunt on his maternal side, was the wife of the eighth Earl of Exeter. A child not himself born into ermine could hardly hope for more excellent connections. If he could have asked anything else of the gods, he might have asked for charm. He did not need to: that also they had given him. They gave him, to complete his felicity, in the year after that
						<pb xml:id="n38" n="5"/>
						of his own birth, a sister as individual as himself, <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name>; and their individualities did not clash. William and Sarah Banks had no further children; but they had not done badly by the eighteenth century.</p>
        <p>We know little enough of the earliest years of Joseph. Presumably they were largely spent at Revesby, where fresh air, the open fields, and plentiful play laid the foundations of a remarkably tough constitution, and private tutoring gave him sufficient educational grounding to take him to Harrow, in April 1752, at the age of nine. Thence, either to get the best of both worlds, or because of invincible opposition to learning in the Harrovian atmosphere — for, to quote his later friend, Henry Brougham, ‘Joe cared mighty little for his book’ — he was in September 1756 removed to Eton. A pleasant good-tempered boy he continued to be, but it was with extreme satisfaction that his tutor found him one day, at the age of fourteen, reading and not sporting in his hours of leisure. He was not, however, we may judge, reading in the classics; Joseph always trod a perilous path in the learned languages — if in a rash moment he ventured into that country at all. Something more important had happened: he had undergone a sort of conversion. He gave his own account of this, late in his life, to Sir Everard Home the surgeon, who transmitted it to posterity.<note xml:id="fn1-5" n="1"><p>In his Hunterian oration, 1822; reprinted by Cameron, Appendix D, particularly pp. 297–8.</p></note> Joseph, river-bathing with his friends one fine summer evening, had lingered beyond them in the water; when he came out they were all gone and he dawdled back to school by himself along a flowery lane. Solitude, the flowers, perhaps the evening light, had their effect: ‘he stopped and looking round, involuntarily exclaimed, How beautiful! After some reflection, he said to himself, it is surely more natural that I should be taught to know all these productions of Nature, in preference to Greek or Latin; but the latter is my father's command and it is my duty to obey him; I will however make myself acquainted with all these different plants for my own pleasure and gratification. He began immediately to teach himself Botany’, with the assistance of the women who gathered simples for the apothecaries’ shops, paying sixpence for every valuable piece of information he got from them. Home for the holidays, he found in his mother's dressing-room an old and battered copy of Gerard's Herbal, with its woodcuts of the very plants he knew; he carried it back to school in triumph; ‘and it was probably this very book that he was poring over when detected by his tutor,
						<pb xml:id="n39" n="6"/>
						for the first time, in the act of reading’. One branch of natural history led to another (the dutiful sense of his father's command felt by Joseph, we may suppose, sat but lightly on the enthusiast), already he had a power of persuasion with his fellows; ‘his whole time out of school was given up to hunting after plants and insects,’ writes Lord <name key="name-402267" type="person">Brougham</name>, the son of one of his schoolmates, ‘making a <hi rend="i">hortus siccus</hi> of the one, and forming a cabinet of the other. As often as Banks could induce [my father] to quit his task in reading or in verse-making, he would take him on his long rambles; and I suppose it was from this early taste that we had at Brougham so many butterflies, beetles, and other insects, as well as a cabinet of shells and fossils’.<note xml:id="fn1-6" n="1"><p>Brougham, <hi rend="i">Lives of Men of Letters and Science in the Reign of George III</hi>, II (London 1846), p. 340.</p></note></p>
        <p>In 1760 he went home from school to be inoculated against smallpox. The time taken by this was so great that when he had recovered it was thought his next step might well be not back to Eton but forward to Oxford — which, though not, quite obviously, his spiritual home, was at least a home for gentlemen; and he was accordingly at the end of the year entered at Christ Church as a gentleman commoner.<note xml:id="fn2-6" n="2"><p>He matriculated 16 December 1760.</p></note> There he rapidly made a reputation as one ignorant of Greek; equally rapidly he came to a determination that though he was shunned as a classicist he would be consulted as a natural historian. But where to turn for higher instruction in the science which he had so far pursued with cullers of simples and in the Elizabethan pages of Gerard? The academic months were passing by. Oxford had a professor of botany, but nothing was farther from the professorial chair than the idea that its occupant might give instruction in the subject that he professed. <name type="person" key="name-401883">Humphrey Sibthorp</name> is not to be blamed; the idea was foreign to every other person as well, and it may indeed be esteemed an excess of educational devotion that he did give one lecture in thirty-five years. To the odd situation which young Mr Banks forced upon him, and to his own character, we owe one of the most masterly statements of irony in the English language — unless, as is conceivable, Lord Brougham had no talent for irony, and was simply being sincere. For when, we are told, Banks ‘applied to the learned doctor for leave to engage a lecturer, whose remuneration should be wholly defrayed by his pupil … it is highly creditable to the professor, and shows his love of the science, in which some of his family afterwards so greatly excelled, that he at once agreed to
						<pb xml:id="n40" n="7"/>
						the proposal’.<note xml:id="fn1-7" n="1"><p>ibid., p. 341.</p></note> He did more than signify his agreement: since there was no person eligible to teach botany in Oxford, he provided the aspiring youth with a letter of introduction to Professor Martyn, who occupied the chair at Cambridge — not to suggest that Professor Martyn might give lectures, but to inquire whether a teacher could possibly be found in the other university or its town. Banks's visit was triumphant: he found <name type="person" key="name-401886">Israel Lyons</name>, the son of a Jewish silversmith and teacher of Hebrew, and a young man early distinguished both in botany and in astronomy, and brought him back to be supported by the revenues of Revesby. Botany was thereupon prosecuted in Oxford; the unorthodox undergraduate grew in knowledge; and as it was the duty of the great to befriend and patronize the lowly, in due course Banks was able to recommend his tutor as astronomer on the Arctic voyage of 1773, on which Captain Phipps, R.N., another friend, looked unavailingly for a way to the <name key="name-402253" type="place">North Pole</name>.</p>
        <p>Meanwhile — the Banksian chronology in these early years is not very distinct, but here at least we have another certain date — William Banks died unexpectedly, of ‘the breaking of an Imposthume in his Breast’, and was buried at Revesby on 1 October 1761.<note xml:id="fn2-7" n="2"><p>Dawson MS 47, f.51.</p></note> Mrs Banks thereupon moved to London, or rather to Chelsea, with <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name>, to a pleasant house in Paradise Walk near the Apothecaries’ Garden that <name type="person" key="name-400659">Sir Hans Sloane</name> had founded not so very many years before. It was an excellent situation for botanical vacations. It had also the advantage of the neighbourhood of one whose Huntingdonshire country seat was not far from Lincolnshire, <name key="name-134358" type="person">John Montagu</name>, fourth Earl of Sandwich, a man who, though twenty-five years older than Banks, became his fast friend. Sandwich had for years already been deep in politics, his acquaintance with the World was wide and his way of thinking — to blunt the point of many accusations against him — liberal; to a talent for genial foolery he united great intelligence, and, in spite of his rather peculiar deep-jawed face, an extreme personal charm — a charm, indeed, even more winning and certainly more stable than that of Banks. He was to be useful to Banks, and he was, it seems, to form a pretty accurate estimate of some at least of the capacities of his young friend. Sandwich was capable of sharing a botanical expedition and both were passionate fishermen. Possibly it is to their association of this period, possibly to some later year, that we may refer a story that seems to have given the mature Banks a
						<pb xml:id="n41" n="8"/>
						great deal of pleasure (it is again to Brougham that we owe our account): ‘So zealous were both these friends in the prosecution of this sport, that Sir Joseph used to tell of a project they had formed for suddenly draining the Serpentine by letting off the water; and he was wont to lament their scheme being discovered the night before it was to have been executed: their hope was to have thrown much light on the state and habits of the fish’.<note xml:id="fn1-8" n="1"><p>Brougham, II, p. 342</p></note> The expectation for profitable research by this radical method is so tenuous that it is much more likely their hope was to have thrown confusion on London. The gentlemen, however, escaped trouble — into which Banks's other passion certainly brought him on a well known occasion. He had wandered out on the Hounslow road collecting plants and had crawled into a ditch. This was badly timed, for it was just after a traveller had been robbed by a footpad. The footpad decamped; search revealed Banks in his ditch — why did men hide in ditches ? — and in spite of indignant denials and struggles he was hauled off to a magistrate. A turning out of pockets must have surprised investigating Justice: the young man was eccentric and not criminal; no doubt there were appropriate apologies. One should not arrest landed gentlemen; but at least this one got a second valued reminiscence for his old age.<note xml:id="fn2-8" n="2"><p>This story appears in the <hi rend="i">General Evening Post</hi>, 7 January 1772, in a rather different form, wherein the incident is said to have happened ‘Iately’—Banks having become a subject for gossip.</p></note></p>
        <p>Banks entered into his inheritance in February 1764. To the expansion of mind consequent on that event we may perhaps attribute his summary way of reorganizing university teaching, for it was in July of that year that Lyons gave his Oxford course of lectures.<note xml:id="fn3-8" n="3"><p>According to the Christ Church battel books Banks was in regular residence from his matriculation data until the end of the Michaelmas quarter 1763; he then became irregular, but was still in residence, though with some breaks, for 21 weeks in 1764. He was charged for the last week of the term beginning Lady Day 1765—perhaps merely for college dues—and for four weeks of the Midsummer term 1765. His name remained on the battel books until 1766 but with no evidence that he was in residence after the single month in 1765. He never troubled to take a degree.—I am indebted for these particulars to the Deputy Librarian of Christ Church, Mr W. G. Hiscock. The dates cast a little light on the year of <name type="person" key="name-401886">Israel Lyons</name>'s lectures, on which there is some conflict. Nichols, <hi rend="i">Literary Anecdotes</hi>, II (1812), p. 328, says he was brought to Oxford by Banks ‘about 1762 or 1763, to read lectures, which he did with great applause, to at least sixty pupils’, but in giving July 1764. I follow the definite statement of Cooper, <hi rend="i">Annals of Cambridge</hi>, iv (Cambridge 1852), p. 381. Banks was then a senior man and his own master.</p></note> It was in that year also that Banks came down, with the world delightfully before him. A gentleman of means needed a London house; he bought one in New Burlington Street; and now, with town and country at his disposal, with Lincolnshire for shooting
						<pb xml:id="n42" n="9"/>
						and fishing and the exercise of a young squire's benevolence (while <name type="person" key="name-401778">Benjamin Stephenson</name>, his father's steward, managed the estate), with London for society and an elevated converse, he might indeed be esteemed a happy young man. Towards his sister and his mother he was warmly affectionate, while his circle of friends began steadily to expand. They were excellent friends, curious about natural history and antiquities, and they themselves had their friends. No sooner was one in the philosophical circle, than it began to broaden out illimitably. To date acquaintanceship seems impossible, but to these years surely must belong something like intimacy with Thomas Pennant, Banks's senior by seventeen years, the Flintshire natural historian and traveller through Britain, the correspondent of Linnaeus, the friend of <name type="person" key="name-401859">Gilbert White</name> (Pennant must even then have been composing his folio <hi rend="i">British Zoology</hi> of 1766); and with <name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name>, the lawyer and antiquary; and at least friendship with Lightfoot the botanist; with Dr Morton, the librarian of the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>; with Dr William Watson, distinguished in physics and astronomy; with Professor <name key="name-402268" type="person">John Hope</name>, the botanist of Edinburgh. It was certainly about this time — we have his own word for it<note xml:id="fn1-9" n="1"><p>In a letter first published in Swedish (<hi rend="i">Upfostrings-Salskapets Tidningar</hi>, No. 14 [21 February 1785], pp. 105–10), and later in German (‘Ueber Solander’, <hi rend="i">Berlinische Monats-schrift</hi>, 6 [1785], pp. 240–9). This letter gave Banks's recollections of Solander. I owe my knowledge of it to <name type="person" key="name-401982">Mr R. A. Rauschenberg</name>, of the University of Illinois, who generously sent me a translation of the German version. I refer to it below as ‘Ueber Solander’.</p></note> — that he first met <name type="person" key="name-131254">Daniel Carl Solander</name>, whose name was to be so closely linked with his own, whose counsel henceforth was so much part of his life. Our young man was, in fact, hard on the heels of science, and we are not to be surprised that in April 1766 the Bishop of Carlisle joined with Dr Morton and Dr Watson to nominate him for the fellowship of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>. He had made no signal contribution to any department of learning whatsoever; but that, at that time, was no disqualification whatsoever; he was an excellent young man, energetic and interested, quite devoted to botany; a landed gentleman with a really enviable income; it would have been an insult to keep him out. The Royal Society duly elected him, quite unwitting that it had taken the first step towards an epoch in its own existence.</p>
        <p>Even while it elected him, Joseph was at sea. Other men might cross the Channel, and take by coach the well-worn road to Paris, Lyons, Venice, Rome; other men might call on <name key="name-400977" type="person">Voltaire</name> or hobnob with cardinals or collect medals and marbles and reputations as <hi rend="i">virtuosi.</hi> But Banks was an original. He would go to <name key="name-002977" type="place">Newfoundland</name> and inspect Esquimaux; he would collect plants. If this be regarded
						<pb xml:id="n43" n="10"/>
						as an extraordinary, as well as unexpected, step for a young person of wealth and comfort in 1766, the comment is that Banks was an extraordinary young person. In that century an extraordinary person did not lack opportunity to show his nature. The opportunity was now provided by the economics of empire. On the coasts of Newfoundland, French and English fishermen had long contested desirable rights and harbours. The peace of 1763 had done something both to affirm and to delimit British claims. British fishermen themselves, however, had to be kept in order, and a web of standing custom to be reinforced and maintained by royal regulation and naval supervision. The ship detailed to cross the Atlantic on this duty for the summer of 1766 was <name key="name-402301" type="ship">H.M.S. <hi rend="i">Niger</hi></name>, Captain Sir <name key="name-402040" type="person">Thomas Adams</name>; and among her officers was <name type="person" key="name-170619">Lieutenant Constantine John Phipps</name>. Lieutenant Phipps was himself a rather unusual person: the heir to an Irish peerage and the nephew of an English earl, he had entered the royal navy from Oxford; not only was his career assured, as a man of ‘interest’, but he was able to help his friends and Banks was an Oxford friend. It is really in no way odd, therefore, to find our young naturalist leaving London on 7 April to join a naval vessel, and beginning the first of his many journals of travel.<note xml:id="fn1-10" n="1"><p>The original manuscript of the journal that Banks kept on this voyage is now in Adelaide, in the possession of the South Australian branch of the Royal Geographical Society. I have used a careful copy made by <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name>, in the library of the Botanical Department of the British Museum (Natural History), 121 pp. quarto; this is entitled ‘Journal of a Voyage to Newfoundland &amp; Labrador: commencing April y° seventh, &amp; ending November the 17th 1766’, and is signed at the head, ‘S: S: Banks 1772’. At the bottom of p. 2 she has a pencil note, ‘mem: there are many References to Latin Names of Plants &amp;c. which I shall leave out.’ There is a second copy, which includes an additional section, ‘Some Account of Lisbon, &amp; the adjacent Country, &amp;customs of the Inhabitants’. This is one of a set of Banks's lesser journals copied out by her, now arranged in three volumes and in the possession of <name key="name-402300" type="person">Sir David Hawley</name>. Dr J. W. F. Hill has kindly lent me typescripts of these journals. The originals, apart from the Newfoundland and Iceland journals, have disappeared. I refer to the copies in footnotes hereunder as S.S.B., with the date.</p></note> Nor is it odd, after his arrival at <name key="name-001520" type="place">Plymouth</name> on the 9th, that he should spend the days before the departure of his ship in exploring the natural history of Plymouth, in taking a critical view of that seat of opulence Mount Edgecumbe, and in visiting Mr Cookworthy's shop to collect the details of the china manufacture in which Mr Cookworthy was engaged; for a gentleman of enquiring mind enquired into everything.<note xml:id="fn2-10" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-402227">William Cookworthy</name> (1705–80) was an interesting minor figure of the eighteenth century, a greatly respected Quaker, successful as a wholesale druggist, and with scientific leanings; the surviving examples of his chinaware are many of them delightful. Banks and Cook are said to have dined with him just before the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> sailed from Plymouth (his grandson kept the dining table as a relic), but neither of them mentions such a meeting. Solander wrote to Ellis, 25 August 1768, ‘When you see Dr. <name key="name-401798" type="person">Fothergill</name> give him my respects, and tell him that we here in Plymouth met with a friend of his, Mr. Cookworthy, as worthy a man as can be, full of knowledge, and very communicative: we are very much obliged to him for his civilities’.—<name type="person" key="name-402013">Sir James Edward Smith</name> (ed.), <hi rend="i">A Selection of the Correspondence of Linnaeus, and other Naturalists, from the Original Manuscripts</hi> (London 1821), II, p. 11. I hereafter cite this work as J. E. S. For Cookworthy see D.N.B. and <name type="person" key="name-402238">John Prideaux</name>, <hi rend="i">Relics of <name type="person" key="name-402227">William Cookworthy</name></hi> (London 1853).</p></note></p>
        <pb xml:id="n44" n="11"/>
        <p>The <hi rend="i">Niger</hi> sailed from <name key="name-001520" type="place">Plymouth Sound</name> on 22 April, and reached the harbour of St John's on the south-east coast of Newfoundland on 11 May. On the voyage Banks suffered and recovered from sea-sickness, netted and described jelly-fish, tried unsuccessfully to catch sea-birds with a hook and line, and saw a number of icebergs — the first ‘an Island of Ice … like a Body of whitish light’. Gales were succeeded by mist and frost, and when he went on shore at St John's he found the spring very little advanced. But what a country for walking and botanizing, for fishing and shooting! Lobsters, crabs, starfish, ‘great plenty of small trouts’, ‘Dog's violets both blew and white’, ‘water Bugs in abundance’, mosses, shrubs and birds: all were there, and the amiable sailors brought in rocks and a tortoise shell for him. Snow was a very minor interruption. He inspected, here and elsewhere, the sites of passages of arms between the French and British, and made the military observations proper to a gentleman. On June 11, in pursuit of a roving commission, <name type="person" key="name-402040">Sir Thomas Adams</name> set sail for Croque harbour, inside the northern peninsula of the island, where a vegetable garden was started and Phipps set up a habitation called Crusoe Hall; there, said his friend, ‘he works night and Day, and lets the Musquetos eat more of him, than he does of any kind of food, all through Eagerness’.<note xml:id="fn1-11" n="1"><p>Journal, 16 June.</p></note> There was a white bear to look for, unsuccessfully. The weather became hot. Banks went out with the master in a shallop, examining the bays and harbours to the southward, botanizing where he could, sleeping in his clothes in ‘the aft Cuddy’; and then on further expeditions of the same sort, unable to keep his journal properly because his shipmates were so curious to see what he wrote down in it. Then the blow fell: for the greater part of July he was confined to the ship by a fever, ‘incapable of collecting Plants, at the very season of the year when they are the most plentifull’; indeed at one stage his life was despaired of. Weak and dispirited, he had to make do with what his servant<note xml:id="fn2-11" n="2"><p>Marginal note by S. S. B., Journal, p. 42, ‘believe <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name>’.</p></note> could bring in, and when he could get on shore again, he was ‘baffled by every Butterfly who chose to fly away’. His strength soon returned, and he was out on another boat expedition, this time to the north, which gave him not only some valuable plants but also, at last, on Belle Isle, the sight of a wild bear. No sooner
						<pb xml:id="n45" n="12"/>
						was he on board ship again than she sailed for Chateau Bay on the coast of Labrador, inside Belle Isle, for a two months’ visit. Although the passage was made in a strong gale, he found to his pleasure that he had mastered his sea-sickness. There were more boat expeditions, on one of which, on 2 September, he and his friend the master had the narrowest possible escape from sinking in a further, and terrific, gale;<note xml:id="fn1-12" n="1"><p>‘when mere accident preserved my Life’, he wrote. <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name> preferred to think otherwise: ‘Providence’, she made her marginal annotation, p. 24.</p></note> for the blowing season had come on, and Sir Thomas was henceforth very careful of his boats. Banks preferred Chateau Bay to Croque: the country was more barren, but the absence of brushwood made him always sure of a good walk, and the abundance of partridge, teal, and curlews gave him good shooting. Croque on the other hand he thought intolerable in summer from its heat, its thick woods and its prodigious abundance not of game but of mosquitoes and gadflies; while field-mice ravaged the vegetable gardens and weasels the eggs of the ship's poultry kept on shore. Meanwhile he was busy at his journal again, over an account he had gathered of the Newfoundland Indians, not without a certain scepticism — ‘if half of what I have wrote about them is true’, he said, ‘it is more than I expect’. They had their own method of taking a scalp, and a scalp he managed to get hold of. Then came accounts of the English and the French fisheries, and the habits of fishermen; followed by recipes for chowder, the soup made of salt pork, cod, and biscuit — which earned his great admiration — of spruce beer, and of the powerful variations which could be built upon it. The detail is very much Banks. He was in high spirits again; of which we may judge very well, not from his journal, but from the quite characteristic letter he wrote to <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name> from Chateau Bay, 11 August:</p>
        <quote>
          <floatingText xml:id="t1-body-d1-t1">
            <body xml:id="t1-body-d1-t1-body">
              <opener>
                <salute>Dear Sister</salute>
              </opener>
              <p>I received yours two days ago with newspapers &amp;c: &amp;c: which I must thank you all for as I can assure you they were the greatest Comfort you can Conceive — we all sat round the Fire &amp; hunted out all the deaths marriages &amp;c: &amp;c: as eagerly as a schoolboy does Plumbs out of a Pudding</p>
              <p>How do you think I have spent my Leisure Time since I have been here Very Musically I can assure you I have learnt to Play upon a new Instrument as I have Forswore the Flute I have tried my hand upon strings what do you think it is now not a fiddle I can assure you but a Poor innocent Guittar which Lay in the Cabbin on which I can play Lady Coventries minuet &amp; in Infancy &amp;c: with Great success</p>
              <pb xml:id="n46" n="13"/>
              <p>Pray My Love to Coz Bate &amp; tell her that she &amp; I differ a little in opinion about Stamford races as I had rather be here Than at all the races in Europe — not but what I beleive she was at Least as happy there as I am here</p>
              <p>I hope M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Lee has been Very Civil &amp; Given you Nosegays as often as you have been to him if not tell him he shall not have one of my Insects when I come home give my Comp<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to him also &amp; tell him that if I did not think it might Endanger Cracking some of Your Ladyships teeth I would Let him know by you some of the Hard names of the things I have got</p>
              <p>So Miss Frederick is going to be married to our countryman a dangerous Experiment I think he killed his Last wife in a hurry I hope he may keep her alive a little Longer but maybe she intends to Revenge Miss Pit &amp; kill him I know you women are Sad Husband killers in your hearts</p>
              <p>I do not know what Else to say I am almost Exhausted thank you however for your ague receipt it has one merit however I think for if it would not Cure an ague I am sure it would kill a horse</p>
              <p>We are here in daily Expectation of the Eskimaux Ladies here I wish with all my heart they were Come as I might have sent you a sealskin gown &amp; Petticoat Perfumd with train oil which to them is as Sweet as Lavander water but more of them when I know them better at Present adieu only Beleive</p>
              <closer><salute>Me Your very affectionate Brother</salute><signed>J <hi rend="sc">Banks</hi></signed>
						P: S: Pray My Comp<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to all Freinds at Chelsea especialy our neighbours at the Garden I mean our Garden-ing uncle &amp; aunt adieu<seg><note xml:id="fn1-13" n="1"><p>ML, Banks Papers, XVI, pp. 3ff. Some of the personal allusions in this letter escape me—‘Miss Frederick’, ‘Miss Pit’ and ‘our countryman’. No doubt ‘Coz Bate’ was a relative on Banks's mother's side, and ‘Mr Lee’ was James Lee, the Hammersmith nurseryman.</p></note></seg>
					</closer>
            </body>
          </floatingText>
        </quote>
        <p>This letter does not indicate very much of the adventures of a naturalist across the Atlantic; it is not very witty; but it does indicate the easy good humour of its writer's mind — when things were going well — and his excellent relations with this admiring and admirable sister.</p>
        <p>He did not, alas, see the Eskimaux Ladies; and on 3 October the ship returned to Croque to fill water and pick up what vegetables and poultry had survived. Banks collected a few more plants, and gives us an account of the seal-fishery. On 10 October the ship sailed for St John's, the rendezvous for the whole Newfoundland squadron, where he notes his approval of a person who was later to receive in very full measure his disapproval: the commodore was ‘Mr Palliser’ of the <hi rend="i">Guernsey</hi>, ‘whose civilities we ought to acknowledge, as he shewed us all we could expect’. And St John's?
						<pb xml:id="n47" n="14"/>
						‘We all felt great pleasure in returning to Society, which we had so long been deprived of; St John's, tho’ the most disagreable Town I ever met with was for some time perfectly agreable to us’. Our journalist deals faithfully with St John's, the very cows of which, he was assured, ate fish. The compensation was Coronation Day. To the celebration of this Commodore <name key="name-134359" type="person">Palliser</name> bent all his sense of style, while his guests had to smother what taste for social discriminations they possessed. The <hi rend="i">Guernsey</hi> was dressed for the occasion: ‘after this we were all invited to a Ball, given by M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Governor, where the want of Ladies was so great, that my Washerwoman and her Sister were there by formal Invitation; but what surprized me the most was, that after dancing we were conducted to a really elegant Supper, set out with all kinds of wine, and Italian Liqueurs, to the great emolument of the Ladies, who eat and drank to some purpose; dancing it seems agreed with them, by its getting them such excellent Stomachs’.<note xml:id="fn1-14" n="1"><p>Journal, pp. 105–6.</p></note> This gleam of light on social history — the poor ladies might well turn with enthusiasm from too much chowder and spruce beer to an elegant supper and Italian Liqueurs — is succeeded by an account of the sea-cow fishery; and that by the dimensions of a schooner, a remarkably good sea-boat; and that by a note on the absence of any distinct breed of Newfoundland dog; and that by further praise for Palliser as a governor. All was interesting, all was recorded; there was nothing that did not stimulate that rapid, that punctuation-free pen.</p>
        <p>But the summer had come to an end, autumn drew on, fishing was over and the fishing-boats departed, the year was too far advanced for success in further plant-hunting; nevertheless, said the hunter, ‘I have vanity enough to believe, that to the northward not many will be found to have escaped my observation’.<note xml:id="fn2-14" n="2"><p>Journal, p. 113.</p></note> On 28 October the <hi rend="i">Niger</hi> left St John's for Lisbon, there to spend part of the winter. The Atlantic provided the gale that first impressed Banks with his very lively sense of the precautions necessary in the ocean carriage of plants — precautions which are underlined with more and more elaboration in his later correspondence; for on 5 November, off the Western Islands, the vessel shipped a sea which stove in the quarter, flooded the cabin, broke all its furniture in pieces and entirely demolished his collection of seeds and growing specimens. But the dried specimens survived, the larger number of his trophies, and into safe keeping they went at New Burlington Street: the foundation, on the foreign side, of the great Herbarium that was to be the pride of British botany and a
						<pb xml:id="n48" n="15"/>
						lodestone for the scientific curiosity of all Europe.<note xml:id="fn1-15" n="1"><p>It speaks highly of Banks's generosity that he was prepared to lend his herbarium to his friend <name type="person" key="name-401924">John Sneyd</name>, of Bishton, Derbyshire, for the period of his absence on the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> voyage. See Sneyd to Banks, Kew B.C. I, 31, n.d., requesting the loan, and asking him also to buy textiles for Sneyd's wife in China and Japan if he should visit those countries; and ibid., 30, 9 January 1773, thanking him for the loan.</p></note> The ship reached Lisbon on 17 November, the date on which the surviving journal ends, with its later-written descriptton of the harbour, the town, and the customs of the inhabitants. Portugal treated Banks kindly: although he never saw the inside of a Portuguese gentleman's house, he made friends in natural history,<note xml:id="fn2-15" n="2"><p>There are, for instance, in Kew B. C. I, several letters from <name type="person" key="name-401857">Gerard De Vismes</name>, of Lisbon, beginning with 2 June 1767; the second announces the gift of a hogshead of ‘that choice Calcavellas’, with instructions for its treatment.</p></note> added a good deal to his collections, and saw for the first time that rare substance, caoutchouc or indiarubber. Early in the new year the <hi rend="i">Niger</hi> duly returned to England, and Banks with her. He arrived in <name key="name-008904" type="place">London</name> on 30 January 1767.<note xml:id="fn3-15" n="3"><p>There is a marginal note to this effect at the beginning of the description of Lisbon in the second copy of the journal by S. S. B. The <hi rend="i">Niger</hi> arrived at Plymouth on 20 January 1767.</p></note> There could by now be no doubt, even among the rare purists, that his election to the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> was justified. Not only was he a man of substance, but he had travelled unconventionally; he had suffered the confinement of a naval vessel, storm, discomfort and fever, in the cause of science, and he had kept a journal with hard names that would endanger his sister's teeth. His journal, indeed, with the interest it displayed in everything, from fish to fortifications, and its treatment of human beings as essential parts of natural history, might be taken as a sort of trial run for the larger journal on which he was before long to embark. He had served his apprenticeship. He did not commit any of the journal to print, nor report on his adventures except in a social way. But he attended a meeting of the Royal Society for the first time on 15 February 1767; and there, no doubt, he bore himself with a proper dignity.</p>
        <p>Meanwhile there were things to do in the metropolis, and beyond it. There was so much to raise the interest of an intelligent man. He went down into Kent on a little tour of universal enquiry — plants, shells, fossils, fortifications, the manufacture of vitriol, beer, and flints, dockyards, a fire ship and a court martial all claimed his attention — and then was again involved in London.<note xml:id="fn4-15" n="4"><p>Journal of an Excursion to Chatham, Rochester, Sheerness, Sheppey, &amp;c. began Feb<hi rend="sup">ry</hi> 21st 1767 Ended March 4th 1767.—S.S.B. 1772.</p></note> We have a letter to <name key="name-160030" type="person">Thomas Pennant</name> of 5 May 1767:<note xml:id="fn5-15" n="5"><p>Alexander Turnbull Library (hereafter referred to as ATL), ALS 269.</p></note></p>
        <quote>
          <floatingText xml:id="t1-body-d1-t2">
            <body xml:id="t1-body-d1-t2-body">
              <p>I am ashamed I have not Long before wrote to you to tell you the truth
						<pb xml:id="n49" n="16"/>
						my Idleness is only to be excusd by alledging a still greater as a palliative Circumstance which is that I have not yet got your Beaver [i.e. a print of the animal] Colourd to tell you the truth I have been so hurried Ever since you left town by furnishing my house that I have scarcely had time to think of anything Else.</p>
              <p>M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> White called upon me today in your name &amp; left some Specimens of Birds …. I intend tomorrow to call upon him at Horaces head and hold Ornithological Converse tho I can assure you it does not go on with the spirit it used to do when you was with us.</p>
              <p>[A paragraph follows on the colouring of plates.] I want you of all things to visit a new Branch of trade I have lately discoverd which I think may be of Service to us the Horners a set of people who live by selling the Horns of all sorts of animals unworked up to those who work them into Knife Hafts &amp;c. the People sell what they Call Buffaloes horns every day &amp; must Certainly have many of animals unknown to us.</p>
              <closer>
                <salute>adieu Floreat Res Zoologica says<lb/>
							Your affectionate J <hi rend="sc">Banks</hi></salute>
              </closer>
            </body>
          </floatingText>
        </quote>
        <p>Another to the same correspondent, of 14 May,<note xml:id="fn1-16" n="1"><p>ibid.</p></note> touches on journeys:</p>
        <q>I am Just upon the wing setting out for Dorsetshire … I mean to be out about a fortnight in which time I shall visit Bristol &amp; the other side of the Channell I am much obligd to you (for an obligation you are not perhaps at present apprizd of) I mean an acquaintance with M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> White who mentiond your name &amp; promises to send divers &amp; various discoveries to town……. Instead of remaining Idle as I intended till I should set out for Flint I find I am to be well employd for I must set out for Lincolnshire as soon as I return from my present expedition….</q>
        <p>The ‘Dorsetshire’ visit was more in the line of the ordinary cultivated county tour of the day than was that sudden leap across the Atlantic, and it lasted longer than a fortnight. It was in fact a leisurely progress from 15 May, on which day Banks descended upon his aunt Mrs Grenville at Eastbury, to 20 June, when returned to New Burlington Street. Between those dates he went through Dorset and Somerset to Bristol, Chepstow — so that he did, as he planned, get across to ‘the other side of the Channell’ — Wells, Glastonbury and Taunton. There were country houses to inspect, starting with his aunt's — ‘exceedingly large and possibly one of the heaviest piles of stone S<hi rend="sup">r</hi> J<hi rend="sup">no</hi> Vanbrugh ever erected’; Pearcefield, ‘the finest place I ever saw’; Burton Pynsent, where Lord Chatham had in two years done a great deal to the house:
						<pb xml:id="n50" n="17"/>
						‘He has built several rooms, some very good ones, but has shewn that his Buildings in Brick are not more durable than his Administrations, as he has already found it necessary to pull down and alter what he himself set up’ — an isolated political observation in all Banks's mass of papers. There was Chepstow Castle to admire; there was Tintern Abbey — ‘a most noble Ruin, by far the Lightest Pi[e]ce of Gothick architecture I ever saw’; the cathedral at Wells (where he went with his antiquarian friend the Rev. Richard Kaye), ‘Rather Good’; the abbey at Glastonbury, where he was ‘almost bit to death’ by gnats; there were pictures and coins and birds and the Cheddar gorge and fire engines, Roman circum-vallations and barrows for archaeological speculation, the fossilized bones of ‘an Elephant found bedded in Ocre on the Mendip hills’; there were riding and walking and a great amount of botanizing; and there was at Bristol ‘a very singular curiosity which was a woman who had for reasons not yet well known been confined since August Last in a deal Box which I myself measurd and found the dimensions to be Lengh 2 feet 6 inches, Breadth and Depth each one foot 4’. Finally on the way back to London, between Silbury and Marlborough, there were the great boulders of sarsen scattered about Fyfield Down, the ‘Grey Wethers’ of the local inhabitants, who were breaking them up to build their walls; so that the botanist and man of taste could geologize as well, take some pieces home, and find them to be ‘a very hard and fine graind Sand Stone’.<note xml:id="fn1-17" n="1"><p>‘Grey Wethers’—not ‘weathers’, as spelt by Banks—from their resemblance at a distance to a flock of sheep. The stone circle at Avebury, a mile and a half away, is believed to have been built with sarsens from this site, which was declared a nature reserve in 1956.</p></note> It is all very completely Banks, this tour, and this sample being given, we need not quote him on his other English, or rather British, journeys.<note xml:id="fn2-17" n="2"><p>His little journal of this tour exists in a copy by S.S.B., Hawley coll. It was admirably edited by Spencer George Perceval, and printed in the <hi rend="i">Proceedings of the Bristol Naturalists Society</hi>, New Series IX, 1899, pp. 6–37.</p></note></p>
        <p>Presumably this tour was followed by the visit to Lincolnshire, for Banks kept a close eye on his estate. There was also the anticipated journey to Flintshire and his friend Pennant. But was not something possible of nobler note ?</p>
        <q>I am Just Returnd to London From my Excursion [he wrote to Pennant] &amp; as I prophesied in my Last found two of yours which your kindness had sent to me in my absence</q>
        <q>What will you say to me if I should be prevented from paying my respects to you &amp; N: Wales this year tho I so fully intended it nothing but your Looking upon it with the Eye of an unprejudiced nat: Historian
						<pb xml:id="n51" n="18"/>
						can bring any excuse to be heard with Patience Look then with Zoologick Eyes &amp; tell me if you could Blame me if I Sacraficed every Consideration to an opportunity of Paying a visit to our Master <name key="name-150199" type="person">Linnaeus</name> &amp; Profiting by his Lectures before he dies who is now so old that he cannot Long Last</q>
        <q>I know you cannot Blame me &amp; you will not when I tell you that nothing shall hinder my attendance in Flintshire but such an expedition. …<note xml:id="fn1-18" n="1"><p>This letter has no date or address, but it is with other letters addressed to Pennant, ATL, ALS 269. It must be after 20 June; though Kew B.C. I, 7, a letter from Pennant, 10 June 1767, at first sight appears to be an answer to it: ‘I sincerely wish y<hi rend="sup">r</hi> tour may answer; but, not being greatly smitten with the charms of Linnaeus, must be doubtfull till I hear from you’. Banks may have mentioned his plan to Pennant earlier. Pennant thought Linnaeus was deficient in ornithology, ‘madripology’, and fossils: ‘his fort is Botany’. By ‘madripology’, a word not in the dictionaries, I take it he meant the study of corals—from ‘madrepore’, generally applied in his day to any perforate coral. Again, ibid., 8, 3 July 1767, ‘I have no very high opinion of Linnaeus's zoologick merits’. In another letter, 26 July 1767, D.T.C. I, p.13, he wishes Banks luck on the journey.</p></note></q>
        <p>An expedition to Uppsala would certainly not have been an impossible one, and it could hardly have failed to have been beneficial to Banks — if his capacity to assimilate lectures in Latin were sufficient — as well as gratifying to Linnaeus, who loved his foreign pupils, though he could speak no language of theirs. There would have been distinction, too, in such close contact with the Master. Nor was his demise so imminent at this time as Banks seems to have thought: he had just passed his sixtieth year, and though, his most energetic days of open-air teaching were gone, he was still a vigorous and lively presence, in lecture room or botanic garden. Banks did inevitably come under his notice, in due course, but only at second hand. For to Flintshire, not to Sweden, in this late summer of 1767 did our young man go, with companions of whom the most eminent, botanically, was the sociable apothecary <name type="person" key="name-402231">William Hudson</name> — whose <hi rend="i">Flora Anglica</hi>, with its Linnaean classification, had been the fundamental work on its subject since its first publication in 1762. It was a journey not only to Flintshire, but through Wales from south to north, on to Cheshire and Derbyshire, and south home again through Warwickshire, Oxfordshire and Berkshire. It was the longest of all Banks's British journeys, and it lasted from the middle of August 1767 to the end of January 1768.<note xml:id="fn2-18" n="2"><p>13 August 1767–29 January 1768. Banks kept a journal on this tour, the copy of which by S.S.B. runs to 159 pp., illustrated with sketches and diagrams. It is now in the National Library of Wales, MS 147. He kept also a memorandum book of very characteristic ‘Observations &amp; facts relating to Nat. Hist. Commerce &amp;c. Learnt from different people’; Dawson MS 44.</p></note> He had not, however, abandoned thought of a pilgrimage to the Master's feet. More than that, he would tread in the Master's feet themselves, he would go to Lapland; Pennant, writing in
						<pb xml:id="n52" n="19"/>
						January, is solicitous about the return from Chester to London, ‘thro all the perils of snow and ice, a good foretaste of your Lapland Journey’;<note xml:id="fn1-19" n="1"><p>Pennant to Banks, 15 January 1768; D.T.C. I, p. 16.</p></note> and in the following month <name key="name-402302" type="person">Thomas Falconer</name>, the classical scholar and learned antiquarian of Chester, wrote of his pleasure at the expected tour, for which he gave a good deal of advice to the tourist.<note xml:id="fn2-19" n="2"><p>‘I am extremely glad to find you are projecting a Northern Journey this summer for the benefit of Natural History. You intend, I hear, to visit if possible the great Lapland fair….’—15 February 1768; Kew B.C. I, 17. Falconer, a generous recluse, was called by the enthusiastic Miss Seward ‘the Maecenas of Chester’. Pennant was his kinsman by marriage. His letters to Banks are always very long, deferential, and full of advice on matters which call for scientific investigation.</p></note> We do not know exactly when there flashed upon his mind the vision of a greater journey — an idea, if only it could be realized in fact, of a quite stupendously satisfying nature. This was the idea of a journey round the world and across the <name key="name-160032" type="place">Pacific Ocean</name>, where no natural historian had ever been before. It took on elaboration, it gathered weight, it was favourably received by the philosophical. And in this same season, it appears, of hope and speculative excitement, Joseph Banks fell in love.</p>
        <p>Among the branches of science in which Banks was not interested, two, astronomy and geography, ranked pre-eminent. Yet the voyage on which he had fastened his mind was a voyage which had for its objects the increase of knowledge of precisely these two; and it was the result of impulses, from the Royal Society and the British Government, with which he had had nothing to do. It was a voyage, in short, for the observation of the transit of the planet Venus across the disc of the sun, and for the investigation of the great continent which was alleged by a number of theoretical geographers to exist in the more southern and western parts of the Pacific, and probably in high latitudes of the Atlantic as well — the <hi rend="i">Terra australis incognita</hi> of long tradition. The two men who in the eighteenth century most enthusiastically elaborated upon this theory were the French geographer <name type="person" key="name-402000">Philippe Buache</name> (1700–73) in whose <hi rend="i">Considérations géographiques et physiques sur les nouvelles découvertes de la grande mer</hi> (Paris, 1753) were what the author regarded as ‘<hi rend="i">hypothéses déraisonnables</hi>’ on the outlines and formation of the continent; and the Scotsman <name key="name-101210" type="person">Alexander Dalrymple</name>, whose <hi rend="i">Account of the Discoveries made in the South Pacifick Ocean, Previous to 1764</hi> (London, 1769), displayed an immense and dogmatic confidence in its existence — founded, like the theories of Buache, on arguments both physical and historico-geographical. But indeed,
						<pb xml:id="n53" n="20"/>
						most people accepted the general hypothesis with the simple faith that they gave to the existence of a south pole.</p>
        <p>The Transit of Venus was a different matter. There could be no argument about it whatever. It was not a phenomenon that could be inspected every day. It had been first observed by the young, brilliant, and short-lived <name type="person" key="name-401899">Jeremiah Horrocks</name> in the year 1639, in his parsonage at Hoole in Lancashire; it had been last observed, with no great advantage to philosophy,<note xml:id="fn1-20" n="1"><p>I am writing of the eighteenth century, and I here deliberately use this word with its eighteenth century meaning of ‘science’. Physics in some universities is still ‘natural philosophy’. Johnson's <hi rend="i">Dictionary</hi> defines ‘Philosopher’ as ‘A man deep in knowledge, either moral or natural’—we should say for the latter ‘scientist’; and ‘Philosophy’ as (1) ‘Knowledge natural or moral’; (2) ‘Hypothesis or system upon which natural effects are explained’; (4) ‘The course of sciences read in the schools’. At the same time I admit that I am not consistent in this usage, and that ‘philosopher’ and ‘philosophize’ occur below in much more modern connotations—my hope being that the reader will be neither confused nor irritated.</p></note> in 1761; it was due to occur again in 1769; and then more than a century would elapse till in 1874 it would give the astronomers another chance. Good observations would make it possible to calculate with some accuracy the distance of the earth from the sun, a pre-requisite to other important calculations in astronomy. In the event of 3 June 1769 therefore the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> took a very lively interest; for undeniably, in 1761 British science — through no fault of its own — had not shone. The Rev. <name type="person" key="name-170629">Nevil Maskelyne</name> had been sent to St Helena, where a cloudy day had been sufficient reason for failure; and Messrs Mason and Dixon to Sumatra, which they had never reached — and, deposited by the exigencies of war at the <name key="name-170606" type="place">Cape of Good Hope</name>, they had found that by no means an ideal place for their operations. The Society was determined that no shortcoming on its part would inhibit a happier outcome on the next occasion, whatever the scientists of other nations might do, and as early as a meeting in June 1766 it resolved to despatch observers to ‘several parts of the world’. Discussion did not become close, however, till towards the end of the following year, when it was decided that the British effort should be devoted to three widely separated places of observation — the first, Fort Churchill in Hudson Bay, the second the North Cape, and the third some suitable island in the Pacific Ocean. But what island ? Mr Maskelyne, now Astronomer Royal, suggested the group called the Marquesas, or alternatively Rotterdam or Amsterdam, in the archipelago we know as Tonga; and there were other suggestions made, such as the <name key="name-140020" type="place">Solomon Islands</name>. The difficulty about any of these was that before a telescope could be stood upon it, it would have to be rediscovered; for the Solomons
						<pb xml:id="n54" n="21"/>
						had not been seen since their discovery by Mendaña in 1568, or the Marquesas since their discovery, also by Mendaña, in 1595, or Amsterdam and Rotterdam since their discovery by Tasman in 1643. Assuming that the island could be rediscovered, how was it to be rediscovered? Again, astronomers themselves would need transit, and while the Hudson Bay Company would no doubt take observers to Fort Churchill, and they might go to the North Cape on the annual naval vessel for fisheries protection, the Pacific Ocean was a different matter. The Royal Society had no money with which to charter a ship; like other learned societies without funds, therefore, it decided to appeal to government. The Council submitted a memorial to the king requesting a grant of four thousand pounds and the necessary ship; observers it had in mind for the Pacific were Mr Dalrymple the geographer and Mr Green, late of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich. Mr Dalrymple, it may be noted, found it necessary to observe that he had no thoughts of making the voyage as a passenger, or in any other capacity than that of ‘having the total management of the ship intended to be sent’. As Mr Dalrymple, though neither ‘bred to the navy’ nor a professional seaman, had had some experience of command in the East Indies, this did not seem to the Society unreasonable; and the king having expressed his willingness to provide the money, the Admiralty was directed to provide a ship. The official investigations into this matter began early in March 1768, and by the end of that month the ‘cat-built bark’ <hi rend="i">Earl of Pembroke</hi>, soon to be given the more famous name <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, had been brought into the navy.</p>
        <p>Meanwhile there had been discussion of the command of the vessel. The Admiralty, quite unmoved by the claims of Mr Dalrymple, settled on Mr James Cook. This was somewhat surprising, because Mr Cook was not even a commissioned officer, and he did not have that ‘interest’ with government that was so useful as a means to promotion. He had, however, made his own interest by solid merit, more particularly by his distinguished career as a marine surveyor in Newfoundland, where, at the time of Banks's visit, he had been working on the south coast and had observed an eclipse of the sun from the Burgeo islands.<note xml:id="fn1-21" n="1"><p>It was in the Newfoundland and not Pacific context that Banks first heard of Cook. Captain Wilkinson of the <hi rend="i">Niger</hi>, 18 December 1767 (Kew B. C. I, 15) writes to him, ‘Sir, As my meeting with the Indians was very uncertain, The Cask of things you left on board of the Niger for Truck with 'em M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> <name key="name-134359" type="person">Palliser</name> took on board the Guernsey to Chatteaux, &amp; I believe he has procure'd you some of their dresses &amp;c. I'd got a Canoe for you which I sent home in the Grenville as she came to Deptford, but she Unluckily run on shore &amp; it was wash'd over board &amp; lost as I am told, tho I have not been able to see M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Cook to ask him about it, nor I am afraid shan't as I am going into the Country but if you'll please to send to him he will let you know whether there are any hopes of getting it by Advertising which I thought off as it was drove ashore on the Essex coast I believe…. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Cook lives I am told some where about Mile end, but the Vessel I believe is got up to Deptford [so] that I fancy it will be best to send to enquire on board her’.—The <hi rend="i">Grenville</hi> was Cook's surveying schooner; in heavy weather off the Nore, 11 November 1767, she dragged her anchor and went on shore, but was refloated next day with very little damage.</p></note> He was
						<pb xml:id="n55" n="22"/>
						very well known to influential men like Captain Palliser, now of the Navy Board, and <name type="person" key="name-134356">Philip Stephens</name> the Admiralty secretary, and, though promotion came late to him, they had no doubt of his ability to command. The decision reduced Mr Dalrymple to fury; attending the Council of the Society in person, he reaffirmed his determination not to go on the voyage at all. There was nothing the Society could do but find another observer. Here it was in luck: Mr Cook appeared a proper person, and Mr Cook was appointed, with Mr Green as his astronomical colleague. Just at this point another naval vessel completed a voyage round the world by arriving in England: it was the <hi rend="i">Dolphin</hi>, <name type="person" key="name-150152">Captain Samuel Wallis</name>, and it reported the discovery of an island and harbour quite admirably fitted for the Society's purpose of observation. Furthermore, the position of this island had been accurately fixed; no time need be occupied in rediscovery. It was King George the Third's Island, and its harbour was <name key="name-402255" type="place">Port Royal</name> — or as we have learnt to call them, Tahiti and <name key="name-134499" type="place">Matavai Bay</name>. Early in June the Society informed the Admiralty of its wish to have the observers conveyed there; and simultaneously brought forward something new:</p>
        <q><name type="person" key="name-123818">Joseph Banks</name> Esq<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Fellow of this Society, [wrote the secretary] a Gentleman of large fortune, who is well versed in natural history, being Desirous of undertaking the same voyage the Council very earnestly request their Lordships, that in regard to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks's great personal merit, and for the Advancement of useful knowledge, He also, together with his Suite, being seven persons more, that is, eight persons in all, together with their baggage, be received on board of the Ship, under the Command of Captain Cook.<note xml:id="fn1-22" n="1"><p>I quote from the letter as it is entered in the Minutes of the Council of the Royal Society, 9 June 1768.</p></note></q>
        <p>This was something new, however, only in the formal correspondence; for though we do not know, unfortunately, when Banks first had his brilliant idea, the time was certainly long before, and there had certainly been a great deal of talk — and, quite obviously, of preparation, because we have the suite already precisely numbered. The Council of the Royal Society had directed the sending of its letter last quoted on 9 June; and 9 June was the date on which Banks himself received a farewell letter from a
						<pb xml:id="n56" n="23"/>
						friend: ‘I have for some time been in Doubt whether you was [in] England or on the Seas; last Night's Papers acquainted me that a North Country Cat was fitting out at Deptford for the South Seas, and was to take on board some Gentlemen of Fortune Students in Botany’.<note xml:id="fn1-23" n="1"><p>Richard Kaye to Banks, 26 June 1768; Kew B.C. I, 27.</p></note> But this was already late in the day: as early as 10 April Pennant was writing with advice on umbrellas, ‘both the thin silk french kinds and the strong oil skin ones; also oil skin coats to guard against the torrents of rain you may expect to meet’.<note xml:id="fn2-23" n="2"><p>Pennant to Banks, 10 April 1768; Kew B.C. I, 21.</p></note> It is clear that Banks's friends caught some of his excitement — excitement summarized in his traditional reply to one more conservative, who expostulated over the hare-brained project, and advised the conventional Grand Tour instead: ‘Every blockhead does that; my Grand Tour shall be one round the whole globe’.<note xml:id="fn3-23" n="3"><p><name type="person" key="name-401816">Edward Smith</name>, <hi rend="i">Life of Sir Joseph Banks</hi> (London 1911), pp. 15–16.</p></note></p>
        <p>Now on 10 April, when Pennant was writing about umbrellas, the ship had been bought, and the mode of her fitting-out determined, and it seems clear that her master had been selected. But it does not seem likely that the Admiralty had by then agreed to accommodate Mr Banks, or even been asked to do so. Mr Banks, however, had had his idea, and clearly assumed that it would be acceptable to all others concerned. His assumption is characteristic: it is characteristic both of the young Banks and of the eighteenth century. A gentleman of large fortune who had had his own way since early youth, who had chosen his own subjects of study and provided the means himself, who went where he wished and took his place in any society he wished, whose friends were scientific, and naval, and ministerial — we must not forget the Earl of Sandwich — hardly needed to hesitate. What he was proposing to do was to plant himself, a train of dependants and a mass of impedimenta on a small and already overcrowded vessel, commanded by a man he did not know, for purposes not at all envisaged by government, in a fashion that would undoubtedly entail further expense on government and inconvenience on other people; and he was proposing it in the sure, certain, and unhesitating conviction that he had a right to be obliged, and would be made welcome. This it was that was so highly characteristic of the English gentleman of fortune of that age, so effortlessly superior, so candidly appropriative of privilege, upon his Grand Tour; this it was that was so completely the Banksian attitude to life. The extraordinary thing is, to a later age, that he brought it off. There were no
						<pb xml:id="n57" n="24"/>
						difficulties raised. He simply, we may say, walked on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, elbowed her officers out of the way, and was made welcome. The touring Englishman expected a welcome, and generally got one, at his inn; but it was a professional welcome, he paid for it. There was no doubt about the welcome that met Banks; for there was no doubt about the Banksian charm. It was not a deliberate or calculated charm. Banks was not, like so many of his contemporaries on their travels, the <hi rend="i">grand seigneur.</hi> Indeed the <hi rend="i">grand seigneur</hi> could not by any stretch of the imagination have chosen the mode of travel that Mr Banks chose. There were times when Banks could act the spoilt child, and other times when he could put on style; but ordinarily it was the directness of the child, or the youth, that he displayed, mingled with his belief in his own privilege. As things turned out on this voyage, there were no seriously unpleasant consequences; and there were, in the presence and talents of Mr Banks, certain positive advantages. For once he had had his great idea, nothing, as we have seen, could stop him, and on 22 July Cook was directed by the Admiralty secretary to receive not only ‘Mr Charles Green and his Servant and Baggage’, but also ‘<name type="person" key="name-123818">Joseph Banks</name> Esq. and his Suite consisting of eight Persons with their Baggage, bearing them as Supernumeraries for Victuals only, and Victualling them as the Barks Company during their Continuance on board’.<note xml:id="fn1-24" n="1"><p>Cook 1, p. 620.</p></note> (There were also a couple of dogs, but no doubt they were included with the baggage.) That is, once these persons were on board, they were to get no special treatment they did not pay for themselves, or that Mr Banks did not pay for. The Admiralty would give them food and cabin or hammock space — and not much of that — and they must make the best of it.</p>
        <p>Who were these eight persons that Banks so blithely added to the eighty-six others already thrust on board the small ship under the newly created Lieutenant Cook's command? Their number, it will be noted, had risen by one since the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> communicated with the Admiralty in June. They were, in some sort of order of social and scientific rank, <name type="person" key="name-131254">Dr Daniel Carl Solander</name>, <name key="name-131265" type="person">Herman Didrich Spöring</name>, <name key="name-131257" type="person">Sydney Parkinson</name>, <name type="person" key="name-400721">Alexander Buchan</name>, <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name>, <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>, Thomas Richmond and <name type="person" key="name-401839">George Dorlton</name>. Dr Solander already was a man of mark. He was a Swede, born at Pitea in the northern part of his country, in 1733. His medical studies were but his avenue into natural history. After the brilliant and beloved Petrus Löfling the ablest of the Uppsala pupils of Linnaeus, he contributed plants from his own province
						<pb xml:id="n58" n="25"/>
						to the Linnaean herbarium, and earned golden opinions from the Academic Consistory of the University as well as from the Master himself. When the ardent London natural historians, <name type="person" key="name-150208">Peter Collinson</name> and <name type="person" key="name-401920">John Ellis</name>, both correspondents of Linnaeus, urged him to send a pupil to England to spread the gospel, the choice fell on Solander, and he was not unwilling. He bade farewell to Linnaeus at the beginning of April 1759, but, falling sick in the south of Sweden, did not arrive in England till July 1760.<note xml:id="fn1-25" n="1"><p>Cf. the letter from Linnaeus to Ellis, 6 November 1759, J.E.S. I, p. 125. Linnaeus had already written with undue optimism to Ellis as early as 30 May 1759, ‘No doubt my much-loved pupil Solander has, ere this, found a tranquil asylum in your friendship. I have recommended him to your protection, as I would my own son….’—ibid., pp. 123–4.</p></note> Ellis took him in charge, with what Linnaeus called ‘paternal affection’, and before long he was widely known for both his extreme good humour and the acuteness of his learning. From as far as Charleston, South Carolina —‘a horrid country, where there is not a living soul who knows the least <hi rend="i">iota</hi> of Natural History’ — a naturalist friend of Ellis, Dr <name key="name-402269" type="person">Alexander Garden</name>, wrote with some despair, ‘I confess I often envy you the sweet hours of converse on this subject with your friends in and about London. How must you enjoy Solander! O my God!’<note xml:id="fn2-25" n="2"><p>J.E.S. I, p. 502.</p></note> This was in 1761. By 1762 Solander was attending the meetings of the Royal Society;<note xml:id="fn3-25" n="3"><p>He heard some surprising things at the Royal Society; e.g. his letter to Ellis, 5 March 1762 (J.E.S. II, p. 8). ‘Last night I was at the Royal Society. It was a long meeting, but very few things of consequence. One Rev. Dr. Foster had sent two letters; in one he will prove, against Mr. Collinson, that swallows really, during winter, immerse themselves in water…. likewise mention is made of frogs in winter, during a hard frost, being found frozen, apparently dead, being hard and brittle like flint, so that they break with a blow. But if taken into a warm room, they come to life again.’—Linnaeus seems to have believed the story about the swallows.—Collinson to Linnaeus, 15 September 1763 (a rather sceptical letter, suggesting some practical experiments), J.E.S. I, pp. 59–62.</p></note> and Collinson testifies to his impact on English science and natural historians in a letter to Linnaeus of 2 September in that year: ‘My dear Linnaeus cannot easily conceive the pleasure of this afternoon. There was our beloved Solander seated in my Musaeum, surrounded with tables covered with an infinite variety of sea-plants, the accumulation of many years. He was digesting and methodizing them into order, and for his pains he shall be rewarded with a collection of them, which no doubt you will see. Afterwards at supper we remembered my dear Linnaeus, and my other Swedish friends, over a cheerful glass of wine…. Solander is very industrious in making all manner of observations to enrich himself and his country with knowledge in every branch of natural history’.<note xml:id="fn4-25" n="4"><p>J.E.S. I, pp. 56–7.</p></note> A man so able was marked for learned preferment, and in 1762 the Petersburg Academy of
						<pb xml:id="n59" n="26"/>
						Sciences was anxious, on the recommendation of Linnaeus, to appoint him its professor of botany. London was in despair: could not someone less eminent teach science to Russian bears?<note xml:id="fn1-26" n="1"><p>Collinson to Linnaeus, 16 November 1762; ibid., pp. 57–8.</p></note> But Solander himself refused to go to Russia; he liked his new friends, and they were diligently looking out for his advantage. It is now Ellis who writes to Linnaeus, in December 1762, about the delightful person: ‘He is exceedingly sober, well behaved, and very diligent, no way expensive; so that I hope he will do very well. I can assure you, the more he is known, the more he is liked; and now peace is near settled, he has a greater probability of succeeding, than when we were engaged in the hurry of a troublesome, though victorious war’.<note xml:id="fn2-26" n="2"><p>Ellis to Linnaeus, 21 December 1762; ibid., p. 160.</p></note> Solander had one defect, it must be admitted, of which Linnaeus had had experience, and which most of his friends were to remark: he was reluctant to answer letters. This was unfortunate, and we feel the misfortune even today, because when he conquered his reluctance he was an excellent letter-writer. Short and plump men are not infrequently bustling: it is clear that Solander, though short and to become plump, never bustled. Meanwhile his reputation as a natural historian of the widest interests and knowledge continued to grow, and at last in 1764 he obtained an assistantship in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>; in this year too he was elected F.R.S. He was busy making catalogues; he surveyed the fabulous collection of the Duchess of Portland.<note xml:id="fn3-26" n="3"><p>Collinson to Linnaeus, 1 May 1765; J.E.S. I, p. 65. This was the greatest private collection of the time. It was dispersed in 1786. <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name> wrote on 8 April 1786 to his nephew Thomas, ‘The catalogue of the Duchess of Portland's collection is come out. The auction begins on the 24th. Out of thirty-eight days there are but eight that exhibit anything but shells, ores, fossils, birds’ eggs, and natural history’.—<hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. Toynbee), XIII, p. 376.</p></note> Mr Banks, who in 1764 entered upon his independency and his career in London, could hardly have been unaware of the existence of this brilliant and amiable man, and when they met, they quickly formed a firm and mutual regard. It was at Lady <name key="name-402304" type="person">Anne Monson</name>'s, at dinner, that Solander, fired with the conversation about the forthcoming voyage, leapt to his feet and proposed himself as a travelling-companion. Banks was enraptured; and next day he talked the Admiralty into acquiescence.<note xml:id="fn4-26" n="4"><p>‘Ueber Solander’, pp. 244–5.</p></note> Solander had placed himself in a great line; for there was a Linnaean tradition of travel, and from the study of the man who had tramped through Lapland his ‘apostles’ went north, south, east and west, to the Arctic, North America, Guiana, Arabia Felix, the Cape, to the Atlas mountains and Palestine, to the East Indies, China and Japan. They were
						<pb xml:id="n60" n="27"/>
						victims of pirates and plague, hunger, thirst and poverty, and some of them died far from home; but, by so great sacrifices, the harvest of knowledge was enormous. It was one of the heroic ages of science, and it was only by extreme good luck that Solander was not one of the apostles who died.</p>
        <p>Of Spöring we know a great deal less. His father was a professor of medicine at the University of Åbo in Finland, and, like so many of the learned, a correspondent of Linnaeus. The son was born about 1730: he was a student at Åbo from 1748 to 1753, going afterwards to Stockholm for a course in surgery. He must have sought his fortune in London and become known there, and he must have become an able naturalist, as did other men trained in medicine. Banks seems to have engaged him as a sort of secretary.<note xml:id="fn1-27" n="1"><p><name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>, in his ‘journal’ (see p. 28, n. below) lists ‘Armon Dedrich Sporing’ as Banks's ‘svt [servant] writer’; and Parkinson refers to ‘Mr. David [<hi rend="i">sic</hi>] Sporing, clerk to Mr. Banks’.</p></note> ‘A grave thinking man’, as he was later called by his employer, he was also a good draughtsman, and clever with his fingers in the mechanical way: amid all the miscellaneous collections of appliances on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, the set of watchmaker's tools was taken by him. Sydney Parkinson, the botanical or natural history draughtsman, was born about 1745, the younger son of a Quaker brewer, <name type="person" key="name-401900">Joel Parkinson</name> of Edinburgh. This was one brewer who did not in that century amass wealth: his sons, on his death, having to fend for themselves, Sydney was apprenticed to a woollen-draper. His talent for drawing, however, would out; he came to London, where his flowers and fruits attracted the attention of botanists and other connoisseurs of natural history — among whom was Banks. It was to Parkinson that Banks in 1767 committed the task of copying on vellum a collection of drawings brought back from Ceylon by Governor Loten,<note xml:id="fn2-27" n="2"><p>‘our Freind Governor V [?] Loten is fixd in N Burlington Street so we shall with ease get the Rest of his Drawin[g]s’.—Banks to Pennant, 14 May 1767.—He has got hold of Governor Loten's drawings and is getting them copied as fast as possible—he will not let Parkinson do anything else.—To Pennant, n.d. ATL, MS Folder 269. Cf. Pennant to Banks, 27 June 1767: ‘My dear fellow Labourer, avoid procrastination: we may lose our opportunity: Loten is old and his wife is young; and the odds are against his life’.— D.T.C. I, p. 10.</p></note> while he worked busily also on living specimens from Kew and from Mr Lee the Hammersmith nurseryman. His talent was such indeed that he was an obvious choice for draughtsman on a journey in which natural history would, according to Banks's calculations, bulk so large; and Banks had intended him for the northern journey now abandoned.<note xml:id="fn3-27" n="3"><p>‘I am extremely glad you take Parkinson with you &amp; doubt not you will gain treasures from the several collections of drawings you will find.’—Pennant to Banks, 4 August 1767; Kew B.C. I, 12.</p></note> But his talent did not
						<pb xml:id="n61" n="28"/>
						stop with the pencil or the brush — he was in every way highly intelligent, both sensible and sensitive, eager to learn as well as extremely hard-working, with interests that expanded to every new thing he saw or heard; guided by his Quaker conscience, and not averse from moral judgments; to pronounce from the stiffly-drawn portrait by <name type="person" key="name-401897">James Newton</name> prefixed to his published journal, a slightly-built dark wisp of a young man, long-nosed and with long thin fingers and a rather prim little mouth; obviously a very serious young man indeed. His fellow-artist, <name key="name-400721" type="person">Buchan</name>, has left much less of an impression on the history of the voyage. Presumably he was a Scot. We know that he was epileptic; but whether Banks was acquainted with that unhappy fact when he engaged him, as ‘an ingenious and good young man’, for landscape and figure drawing, we do not know. His early death was to throw a very large load of work on <name key="name-131257" type="person">Sydney Parkinson</name>, helped out a little by Spöing; and while the landscape remained to posterity, and could be drawn at any time (a fact not very consoling to Banks), we miss extremely a really good and full record of the personal appearance of the oceanic peoples at this critical moment of impact of a new culture upon them. The remaining four men were Banks's personal servants, and they hardly come alive for us. <name key="name-401998" type="person">Peter Briscoe</name> and <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>, a boy of sixteen, were from Lincolnshire, apparently from the Revesby estate; Briscoe, who had been on the Newfoundland expedition, had sharp eyes, and both were interested enough to copy someone else's journal;<note xml:id="fn1-28" n="1"><p>I regret that the journals written by Roberts and Briscoe escaped listing with the other civilian journals in Cook I, pp. ccxxxix-xlii. Roberts's is now in the Mitchell Library; Briscoe's in the Dixson Library. They have however no particular value as journals, their first few entries being copied from the ship's log—perhaps at some removes—and the rest from Pickersgill. They do, however, include useful lists of the ship's company, with the ‘qualities’ in which individuals sailed: the ‘quality’ of Roberts and Briscoe being ‘Footman’. The Briscoe volume has the unusual and pious title-page, ‘A Journal of His Majesties Bark Endeavour By Gods Permishon Bound to the South Seas….’</p></note> they had enough capacity for survival to die long years afterwards in their native country. Richmond and Dorlton, on the other hand, negroes (it was the fashion to have negroes in one's service in contemporary London), were doomed to but a short lease of life; they appear, and their master's journal records them almost only to describe their cold and melancholy end.</p>
        <p>So much for the companions and adherents of our adventurer, as he prepared to set out on a very remarkable voyage. We may note something else that he had with him. This was a copy of Dalrymple's pamphlet on Pacific discoveries, with its interesting and inaccurate map, which the author had given him. The map
						<pb xml:id="n62" n="29"/>
						was interesting because it showed a passage north of Australia with a ship's track marked through it — the track of Torres in 1606. Banks's mind, so far as we can see, was not much stirred by this but Cook's was. Cook had a geographical mind; Banks had not. And the map was to play its part in the remarkable voyage.<note xml:id="fn1-29" n="1"><p>For its significance see Cook I, pp. clvii-xiv.</p></note> The voyage would have been remarkable in English history, apart from its extraordinary geographical importance, apart even from the success that was to attend it in the realm of natural history, as the first voyage of discovery which went equipped with a scientific staff. Its primary purpose, to observe the Transit of Venus, was of course scientific, and for this purpose <name key="name-207700" type="person">Cook</name> and <name key="name-131253" type="person">Green</name> were the staff. With all the careful preparations of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>, with all the expense incurred by the Admiralty, and with all the conviction of the observers that their efforts had been rewarded with success, the end was failure. Although no astronomer was, or could be, aware of the fact, it was impossible to make accurate observations of Venus in the way intended. The triumph therefore was in the descriptive sciences of zoology and botany and in ethnology, and it was a triumph which installed in British voyages of discovery the tradition of scientific work over a wide ambit. It was not indeed the first voyage of discovery on which a naturalist had sailed; the honour implied therein belonged to the French. <name key="name-131266" type="person">Bougainville</name>, with whom was <name type="person" key="name-150234">Philibert Commerson</name>,<note xml:id="fn2-29" n="2"><p>See p. 287, n. 6 below.</p></note> eminent in botany, was at the moment of the <hi rend="i"><name key="name-400074" type="ship">Endeavour</name>'s</hi> departure making his painful way towards the Moluccas, after an able passage of the Pacific by way of Tahiti, the New Hebrides and the Solomon Islands. The achievement of French men of science was thereafter very great. Nor must we forget what we have noted already, the travels of the pupils of Linnaeus. But these devoted men had no official standing, they picked up a passage where they could, and, wherever their wanderings by land took them, by sea they followed a conventional trade route. Banks created the habit of officially recognized and supported science on the British voyages, simply by breaking in at his own expense. What this voyage cost him it is impossible to say. The well-known estimate given by Solander seems to mean merely that the gentleman of fortune was free with his wealth; and after all, Banks did not buy the ship. The estimate comes in a letter from Ellis to Linnaeus of 19 August 1768, a week before the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> sailed from Plymouth — a letter that contains more than one inaccuracy:</p>
        <pb xml:id="n63" n="30"/>
        <q>I must now inform you, that Joseph Banks, Esq. a gentleman of £6000 per annum estate, has prevailed on your pupil, Dr. Solander, to accompany him in the ship that carries the english astronomers to the new discovered country in the South sea, Lat. about 20° South, and Long. between 130° and 150° West from London, where they are to collect all the natural curiosities of the place, and, after the astronomers have finished their observations on the transit of Venus, they are to proceed under the direction of Mr. Banks, by order of the Lords of the Admiralty, on further discoveries of the great Southern continent, and from thence proceed to England by the Cape of good Hope…. No people ever went to sea better fitted out for the purpose of Natural History, nor more elegantly. They have got a fine library of Natural History; they have all sorts of machines for catching and preserving insects; all kinds of nets, trawls, drags and hooks for coral fishing; they have even a curious contrivance of a telescope, by which, put into the water, you can see the bottom to a great depth, where it is clear. They have many cases of bottles with ground stoppers, of several sizes, to preserve animals in spirits. They have the several sorts of salts to surround the seeds; and wax, both beeswax and that of the <hi rend="i">Myrica</hi>; besides there are many people whose sole business it is to attend them for this very purpose. They have two painters and draughtsmen, several volunteers who have a tolerable notion of Natural History; in short Solander assured me this expedition would cost Mr. Banks ten thousand pounds. All this is owing to you and your writings.</q>
        <q>About three days ago I took my leave of Solander, when he assured me he would write to you and to all his family, and acquaint them with the particulars of this expedition. I must observe to you, that his places are secured to him, and he has promises from persons in power of much better preferment on his return.</q>
        <q>Everybody here parted from him with reluctance; for no man was ever more beloved, and in so great esteem with the public from his affable and polite behaviour.<note xml:id="fn1-30" n="1"><p>J.E.S. I, pp. 230–2.</p></note></q>
        <p>And Banks had fallen in love. He was twenty-five, and his journal indicates that the flame was easily kindled in him. Unfortunately the circumstances of this particular kindling, like so much other detail of his earlier life, are unknown to us; but for the fact we have excellent testimony. In 1768 <name type="person" key="name-401884">Horace Benedict de Saussure</name>, a young Swiss — three years older than Banks — of ample means and scientific interests, visited England with his wife on his own Grand Tour. He was later to attain fame as a physicist and geologist, and one of the first conquerors of Mont Blanc. On Friday, 15 August, in
						<pb xml:id="n64" n="31"/>
						London, de Saussure went to the opera to hear <hi rend="i">La Buona Figliuola.</hi><note xml:id="fn1-31" n="1"><p>This was an <hi rend="i">opera buffa</hi> by Nicola Piccini (1728–1800), its text arranged by Goldoni from Richardson's <hi rend="i">Pamela</hi>. It was so popular that it ran in Rome two years without interruption, and in London, says <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name> in 1766, it was ‘crowded every time; the King and Queen scarce ever miss it’.—<hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. Toynbee), VII, p. 77.</p></note> The performance had its merits and demerits: what de Saussure enlarged on in his journal was not, however, these, but a more interesting matter.</p>
        <p>Saw for the first time [he writes] <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name>, with Mr Banks, her betrothed. Returned on foot from the opera with them and supped together. The eldest daughter, tall, decided, agreeable, a great musician, splendid voice, fond of society, polished. The second Miss Harriet, desperately in love with Mr Banks, from whom she was to part next day — hitherto a prudent coquette, but now only intent on pleasing her lover, and resolved to spend in the country all the time he is away. The youngest, a Methodist dévote, delighted to pass two or three years in the country with her sister and live out of the world. The mother, a good-natured little woman, talking politics. As Banks cannot speak a word of French, I could not judge of his abilities. He seems to have a prodigious zest for natural history. I supped there with him and Dr Solander, who is also starting with him for Isle St George. They will work on natural history. They have an astronomer for the passage of Venus, a draughtsman, all the instruments, books, and appliances possible; after observing the passage they will endeavour to make discoveries in the Southern Ocean and return by the East Indies. Miss Blosset, not knowing that he was to start next day, was quite gay. Banks drank freely to hide his feelings. He promised to come and see me at Geneva and bring me some curios. We were charmed to have made acquaintance with this family, and I particularly to have seen before his departure a remarkable man.<note xml:id="fn2-31" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-401793">Douglas W. Freshfield</name>, <hi rend="i">Life of <name type="person" key="name-401884">Horace Benedict</name> de Saussure</hi> (London 1920), pp. 105–6. I have tried in vain to discover the origin of the family that de Saussure found so interesting. There appear to have been Blossets about this period both in <name key="name-110555" type="place">Dublin</name> and in Middlesex. From what is said later about ‘the country’, a Middlesex home is not unlikely.</p></note></p>
        <p>Thus this very agreeable supper. Banks must already have bade farewell to his mother and sister, and next day he was gone. M. de Saussure however continued to see something of the interesting family while he remained in London; for on that next day he dined on a fine piece of venison sent by Mrs Blosset, and afterwards accompanied Miss Blosset to Ranelagh; on the following day again called on the Misses Blosset, ‘arranged for the theatre and ball, dined with Turton and the Misses Blosset and left my wife to dine alone and dress her hair at our lodgings…. Fine theatre. Thence to supper with Mrs Blosset and to the ball at the Redout with the eldest Miss Blosset….’<note xml:id="fn3-31" n="3"><p>ibid., pp. 106–7.</p></note> But we are not to think that M. de
						<pb xml:id="n65" n="32"/>
						Saussure, swept with admiration for the tall, decided, splendid-voiced Miss Blosset (a person perhaps rather too formidable to make conquest of Joseph Banks) was immune to the charms of Miss Harriet Blosset — who, midway between the magnificent creature her elder, and the creature of piety, her younger sister, seems to have provided the right balance in female character for a young man who was himself neither a great musician (in spite of the flute and the guitar) nor particularly <hi rend="i">dévot.</hi> On 19 August the de Saussures and their friend Turton went once again to breakfast with the charming ladies. Afterwards the Swiss gentleman took Miss Harriet in his carriage ‘to see the garden and the rosaries of Lyse,<note xml:id="fn1-32" n="1"><p>Presumably ‘Lee's’.</p></note> a gardener patronised by Mr Banks, on the road to Richmond, walked about with her, collected many plants…. Thence, still with Miss Blosset, to see the insects of Mr Banks, a superb collection beautifully arranged, insects pinned with the names underneath each, English and foreign, in drawers covered with glass and framed in cedarwood. Took tea with Mrs Blosset, Miss Harriet, and her younger sister, the eldest had gone with my wife to the opera. I had a serious conversation with Miss Harriet. Her deep melancholy, her persuasion she should die, her firm resolve to live in the country to show her true love, make her very interesting’.<note xml:id="fn2-32" n="2"><p>Freshfield, p. 108.</p></note> So the romantic Miss Harriet Blosset, luxuriating in grief, while her betrothed is still on his way to Plymouth, passes for the time being out of history.</p>
        <p>The betrothed young gentleman joined his ship, was sea-sick and recovered, looked overboad at the denizens of the deep, and began to write his journal. It was a journal that was to assume large proportions, and to be composed with unflagging interest, and often excitement, but it exhibits one regrettable defect. Banks's eye was always outward — always, except for one brief glimpse of the great cabin<note xml:id="fn3-32" n="3"><p>See p. 396 below.</p></note> — and nowhere does he give an adequate picture, or any picture at all, of his shipmates. We have an isolated phrase or two; we can tell that he came to admire some of them extremely; from other sources we can tell that this one or that one earned his regard, and that the regard was returned: but what would we not give for a full-length study of the captain of that ship, and of some of his officers, from the pen that devoted so much
						<pb xml:id="n66" n="33"/>
						space — quite justly — to marine zoology and the inhabitants of New Zealand or Batavia! He could have done it: he was a good observer, hard up against the subject of observation, he was ready with words; but we look in vain. In one way, no doubt, it was as well; there is plenty of evidence that on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journals were not exactly private documents. None the less there are ways round such embarrassments, and as posterity we mourn the missed chance.</p>
        <p>In any case it seems clear that Banks and his philosophical companions fitted well enough, not only into the narrow physical space provided for them but into the psychological environment. The eighteenth century sailor was used to narrow quarters; the eighteenth century gentleman simply had to knuckle down to them. Banks knew what to expect after his Newfoundland journey, and no doubt Solander had been warned. Solander's status seems to have been that of a guest and co-scholar; it was those two who were referred to in the other journals as ‘the gentlemen’, in distinction from those who were technically ‘the officers’ and ‘the people’ — i.e. these last, the crew. Parkinson, Buchan and Spöring were employees, and having accepted engagement, could nourish no legitimate feelings about physical conditions. The servants were servants, and while on shipboard the indications are that they were mustered into the watches with the crew, and took up what space and hammocks they could. With all Banks's virtues, however — his tolerance and high spirits and sense of adventure — one three years’ voyage on a ship of this type was enough for him; the gentleman and philosopher revolted against narrow quarters, pined after the greater elegance due to six thousand a year, and, as we shall see, made his later desires known with some force. Solander's feelings are unknown to us: we are perhaps not wrong in fancying that he liked the creature comforts, but he was an uncommonly eventempered man, and committed no opinions of any sort, as he committed nothing else, to a journal. He was otherwise employed. Banks later testified to his industry and astuteness. There were differences enough between them, but no heat and no bitterness. At sea they were to develop a sort of regimen: ‘We had a suitable stock of books relating to the natural history of the Indies with us; and seldom was there a storm strong enough to break up our normal study time, which lasted daily from nearly 8 o'clock in the morning till 2 in the afternoon. From 4 or 5, when the cabin had lost the odour of food [dinner was at midday], we sat till dark by the great table with our draughtsman opposite and showed him in what way to make his
						<pb xml:id="n67" n="34"/>
						drawings, and ourselves made rapid descriptions of all the details of natural history while our specimens were still fresh.’<note xml:id="fn1-34" n="1"><p>‘Ueber Solander’, pp. 245–6; and see also p. 396 below.</p></note> Then the descriptions were fair-copied by a ‘writer’ (one supposes Spöring) and the plants were pressed; and so the work went on. Persons so happily employed could have few discontents to visit on their shipmates, and we know that by their shipmates the gentlemen were much liked. The evidence is not so much in the records of this voyage as in later letters. It is very clear that warm personal friendship sprang up between them both and Cook, as well as with such men as <name key="name-170588" type="person">Gore</name> the practical third lieutenant<note xml:id="fn2-34" n="2"><p>It may be pointed out here that the rank of Cook, always referred to on the ship as ‘Captain Cook’ or ‘the Captain’, was that of first lieutenant. He was ‘captain’ conventionally, like other persons in charge of a ship. The second lieutenant was Zachary or Zachariah <name key="name-131255" type="person">Hicks</name>, the third John Gore. See Cook I, pp. cxxviii ff.</p></note> and <name type="person" key="name-134285">Charles Clerke</name> the master's mate, a farmer's son of cheerful eye and amusing talk. The relation with Cook was of course the critical one, and it belongs as much to a study of Cook as to a study of Banks.</p>
        <p>The relation could hardly have been better between the seaman, at the beginning of the voyage nearing forty, the child of rural poverty and the professional product of native genius and a determined self-education, and the young gentleman, six months past twenty-five, the child of fortune whose inheritance was the land and not service to the land. Nothing could have been more violently disparate than their upbringing, yet they had this in common, that Banks, though by no means a genius, was yet strongly an individual, and — in all that counted for him — also self-educated. They were both used to the exercise of authority — Cook, the disciplined authority of experience, as one who had himself been, and was even now, under orders; Banks, the authority of his birth and breeding, as one who by nature gave, and did not take, orders. They both had a full measure of common sense — in Cook perhaps rather austere, a part of his genius for planning a campaign of discovery, but also a fundamental in that elasticity of mind that made him always equal to the unexpected; in Banks an endowment that gave him some appreciation at least of the extraordinary quality of the man he had to deal with, and that kept him—almost invariably—in his place as a passenger. Almost invariably!—we know that once, off the New Zealand coast, Banks was extremely anxious for a landing to be made, in blithe disregard of the prevailing wind and of the responsibilities of a captain, and we know that he could never really forgive Cook's refusal to oblige him; but what is once in three years ? We know of criticisms made, or implied, of ‘the
						<pb xml:id="n68" n="35"/>
						sailors’, but what are they beyond the passing reaction to moments when any man's mind might be unsettled by danger or alarm? We know also that when there was extreme danger, and something that the gentleman could do to meet it, Banks took the handle of a pump and worked it till he was as exhausted as any seaman. The two men, again, could learn from each other. It is hard to say in so many words precisely what Banks learnt from Cook, because he does not give a list of acquirements, and close scrutiny of his holograph journal is not as rewarding in the internal evidence it yields as is a corresponding scrutiny of Cook's. Yet he had the example of that immense patience, that immense technical competence, that immense capacity for dealing with men, before him for three years, and he was not unaffected by the spectacle of greatness. Banks was to live for half a century after the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> voyage, but he never met a greater man than Cook. Cook himself learnt things more easily discernible. He learnt a little bit of grammar. Each man's journal was open to the other, and while Banks found it worth while to make an abstract of Cook's, with all the names that had been conferred on geographical features and the coordinates of latitude and longitude — things that hardly entered into his own composition at all — Cook learnt from Banks how to describe people and things. He unashamedly cribbed on a large scale,<note xml:id="fn1-35" n="1"><p>I have printed parallel passages from both journals in Cook I, pp. ccv-viii; cf. pp. ccxiii-iv.</p></note> he unashamedly went back on his own drafts and rewrote them to incorporate some of the language of Banks. He regarded himself as an uneducated man, he may even have had the verbally uneducated man's awe of words in the mass; and here, beside him, he had an educated man who could pour them out in large quantities to some purpose. We can have no doubt that Banks was glad to help. But once Cook had learnt how to proceed, we do not get plagiarism on the grand scale again. The description of Tahiti is Banks's; except for phrases, occasional echoes, bits of natural history information, words that would strike an unlearned man as ‘good’, there are two separate accounts of New Zealand and <name key="name-110004" type="place">New South Wales</name>. In the end we have in the two journals, as it were, a vast diptych of Pacific exploration; a little of the design is the same, a few brush-strokes in one are modelled on those in the other; they contain corresponding figures and action; but the pictures are complementary, not identical. Banks, or rather Banks and Solander together, were the agents of a more general change in Cook's mind also. At the beginning of the voyage he was a seaman, a marine
						<pb xml:id="n69" n="36"/>
						surveyor, a little of an astronomer, a man with a passion for exactitude in limited fields of enquiry. At its end he had become not, certainly, a natural historian, but a man whose intelligence had widened considerably to an understanding of the importance of all knowledge. The two men his companions had thus an importance beyond the importance of natural historians, considerable as that was.</p>
        <p>It is time to return to our philosopher as, ‘in excellent health and spirits perfectly prepard … to undergo with chearfullness any fatigues or dangers’ he might encounter, he was borne with no great speed southwards upon the Atlantic bosom. In excellent spirits he was; the deep was full of wonder; other men might be irritated at a calm, but he and Solander had ‘easy contented countenances’ as they fished away and referred their catch to the Linnaean pages. They were honeymoon weeks, those early ones; the sailors too began to be interested; and when an African latitude was reached, and leave was taken of Europe, ‘perhaps for ever’, it was possible to spare one sigh but not two, for friends left behind — ‘friends’, it is to be assumed, including both sexes, <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name> as well as <name key="name-160030" type="person">Thomas Pennant</name>. There was the brief stay at Madeira, lighted up by the agreeable Dr Heberden, <hi rend="i">il Doctore docto</hi>, philosophy in a wilderness of ignorance; there were the plants to be collected, the scenery and the people to be observed, the Franciscan monastery to be visited, and the convent where the sisters were so naively and delightfully confident in the visitors’ mastery of the secrets of nature; the governor to be shocked with the electrical machine. (Meanwhile the captain was acquiring wine and fresh water and onions.) Banks was far too busy to write letters home, but Solander got one away to <name key="name-401920" type="person">Ellis</name>. Then the routine of the sea again till early November, though a routine part of which was excitement: the glimpse of the Peak of Teneriffe raised above the sea, the ceremony at the crossing of the Line, so vividly described, the birds, the fish, the lunar rainbow, the catching of sharks, the expeditions in the small boat during calms, the sighting at last of the coast of Brazil. Down in the cabin, when activity on deck was impossible, Banks examined his specimens, Solander described, Parkinson drew, grabbing at his paints as the table tilted. Then the harbour of Rio de Janeiro, after eight weeks at sea; and the first blow at cheerfulness.</p>
        <p>Cook called at Rio after due thought. He did not, strictly speaking, need to, though his instructions allowed him to do so if he wished, as they allowed him to call at Port Egmont in the Falkland Islands.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n70"/>
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankP002a">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankP002a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP002a-g"/>
            <head>Solander</head>
          </figure>
        </p>
        <pb xml:id="n71"/>
        <pb xml:id="n72" n="37"/>
        <p>He was well enough provided to make Port Egmont quite easily. But he was a careful man, and thus early he had developed his passion for getting fresh water and fresh food on every possible occasion — the onions at Madeira were another example, which had later to be explained to the accountants — and for seeing that they were consumed in place of stale water and salt meat. Also he wanted to heel his ship and look at the sides. The Portuguese had been spoken of very highly as hosts by <name key="name-401668" type="person">Lord Anson</name>, after his experience at St Catherine's island, and Commodore <name key="name-150151" type="person">Byron</name> (whose journal Cook had with him) had met with an excellent reception at Rio itself. The reception given by a new viceroy to the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> was the reverse of excellent. The reasons that he made explicit seemed to Cook totally inadequate. They may be summarized as his orders from the Portuguese court for dealing with foreign vessels in general, his difficulty in believing that the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> belonged to His Britannic Majesty's navy (she certainly did not look as if she did), and his suspicion that her real errand was not the observation of the Transit of Venus — a matter which he did not understand — but smuggling. There may have been complications in Portuguese foreign policy that he was not at liberty to explain. Nothing Cook could say or do could alter the determination of the Conde de Azambuja to take no risks. Cook said a good deal, and he adopted a high tone, and his paper war with the viceroy is one of the curiosities of the voyage;<note xml:id="fn1-37" n="1"><p>See Cook I, Appendix I, pp. 481 ff.</p></note> whether a lower tone would have made any difference is a matter for conjecture, but it does not seem probable. It is certain that in the production of the ‘memorials’ with which he bombarded the viceroy Banks took some part. Among the MSS in the Commonwealth National Library are four draft folio pages, written in a rapid indignant hand, the paragraphs much deleted, smudged and altered: it is the hand of Banks, and the draft is that of Cook's communication of 19 November 1768. Possibly this indicates that Banks did a good deal of drafting for Cook, for the papers are much of a style, and the crisis was not the sort of thing that Cook had dealt with before. An English gentleman, however, esteemed himself the equal of any viceroy, and this was a very furious English gentleman indeed. It is true nevertheless he managed to make his own memorials scrupulously polite.<note xml:id="fn2-37" n="2"><p>See below, II, pp. 315–20.</p></note> Banks's fury can be well understood, for his predicament seemed both ridiculous and gratuitous. He wanted to get ashore. The remarks of his journal are adequately condensed in his letter of 1 December to the Earl of Morton:</p>
        <pb xml:id="n73" n="38"/>
        <q>Your lordship Can more easily imagine our Situation than I can describe it all that we so ardently wishd to examine was in our sight we could almost but not quite touch them never before had I an adequate Idea of Tantalus's punishment but I have sufferd it with all possible aggravations three weeks have I staid aboard the ship regardless of every inconvenience of her being heeld down &amp;c &amp;c. which on any other occasion would have been no Small hardship but small evils are totaly swallowd up in the Larger bodily pain bears no comparison to pure in short the torments of the Damnd must be very severe indeed as doubtless my present ones Cannot nearly Equal them.<note xml:id="fn1-38" n="1"><p>See Appendix, II, pp. 313–5 below.</p></note></q>
        <p>Solander was more moderate, writing to Ellis: at Madeira, he recalled, they had met with a very good reception, ‘which is more than I can say of this place, where the viceroy has been so infernally cross and ill-natured, as to forbid us to set our feet upon dry land. How mortifying that must be to me and Mr. Banks, you best can feel…. We have, nevertheless, by fair means and foul, got about 300 species of plants, among them several new, and an infinite number of new fish…’<note xml:id="fn2-38" n="2"><p>For the full text of this letter, see II, pp. 308–10 below.</p></note> By fair means and foul — though nothing very foul; outraged Science had to do its best through what it could pick up casually, or through innocent bribery, or by surreptitious and unhappily confined visits, while a continent stretched before it. South America, indeed, was inimical to natural historians: they went to the Dutch possessions and died there of tropical fevers, or the state of international politics turned them, in the administrative mind, into spies. Banks took what private revenge he could, in his journal; the Portuguese in Madeira might be ignorant, but here they were slaves, their rulers were not merely stupid and prejudiced but tyrannical. Considering his virtual imprisonment on board the ship, the account he gives of Rio de Janeiro is surprisingly full; but no doubt we owe a great deal, if not to his observation, to the information of Mr Burrish, the Englishman who served in the customs, of Lieutenant Forster, the other Englishman, of the Portuguese Estermoz regiment, who suffered badly in fortune for befriending his compatriots,<note xml:id="fn3-38" n="3"><p>See Lieutenant Forster's letter to Banks, 5 November 1771, II, pp. 321–3 below.</p></note> and of the Spanish naval officers, whose liberties were so much greater than those of the English, and who proved so conversable.</p>
        <p>The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> got away from ‘these illiterate impolite gentry’ on 2 December, and stood south. With all inconveniences, Cook had got a sufficient refreshment for his men at Rio, and decided not to call at Port Egmont — a disappointment for Banks, who
						<pb xml:id="n74" n="39"/>
						feared he would have no chance to collect in this southern part of the world. His fear was needless: the Bay of Good Success, on the coast of Tierra del Fuego, gave him a great deal of collecting, a view of the most primitive people he had ever seen, and a thoroughly bad scare into the bargain. His remarks on the people were, and remain, valuable, for no thorough study has been made even yet of this Ona tribe; his passion for collecting seems to have puzzled Cook, who just then looked at plants with a severely practical eye: could they be eaten? — were they anti-scorbutic? These plants, alas! were ‘most of them unknown in Europe and in that alone consisted their whole value’.<note xml:id="fn1-39" n="1"><p>Cook I, p. 44.</p></note> His scare was the result of bad luck and lack of acquaintance with an unpredictable summer climate. The young <name key="name-121361" type="person">Darwin</name> of the <hi rend="i">Beagle</hi> and the young <name key="name-208267" type="person">Hooker</name> of the <hi rend="i">Erebus</hi> in after years followed Banks and his party up the Tierra del Fuegian hills, and experienced some of the same embarrassments underfoot; but they were luckier with the weather, and did not have to stay out all night — nor did they expend a great deal of their energy walking round in a circle. Banks was probably not in such danger as he apprehended, and he certainly made too much of the deprivation of food for some hours, and of the low temperature itself. The real cause of the party's unhappiness was, it seems likely, too much exertion too lightly undertaken after being cooped up on shipboard for four months, so that the effect of snow and cold was greater than it would otherwise have been. Buchan complicated the whole matter by his epileptic fit, and the two unfortunate negroes had paralysed their powers of resistance by the rum they had drunk. Banks's greyhound lay out with them in the snow without ill effect. And though the members of the party after regaining the ship were put into warm beds Banks was excepted: he went at once in a boat to haul the seine. We may conclude that the adventure, though unpleasant, and though it saw the end of poor Richmond and Dorlton, does not rank amongst the great crises of the voyage.</p>
        <p>On 21 January 1769 the ship sailed from the Bay of Good Success and out of the Strait of le Maire to make the Horn passage, and then north-west. On 4 April Peter Briscoe, in the second watch, snatched from the sailors the honour of first sighting land — it was Lagoon Island, or Vahitahi, one of the Tuamotus — and on 13 April they were at anchor in <name key="name-402255" type="place">Port Royal</name>, in King George the Third's Island. A few more days, and they would be familiarly calling it Otaheite. The intervening weeks had been for Banks a
						<pb xml:id="n75" n="40"/>
						continued excitement of sea-birds. Now we see a change in the character of his journal. At Madeira and Rio de Janeiro he had been both natural historian and any intelligent man. He had made lists of the plants and fishes of Madeira, of Brazilian plants, and stuck the lists in the journal, as he stuck in the letter from Dr Hulme about the use of inspissated lemon juice as a cure for scurvy. At Tierra del Fuego he met his first savages, and was highly delighted, and he still made a list of plants. Crossing the Pacific, there were the birds and fishes to be seen, captured, noted. From the arrival in Tahiti, all this took second place. The natural historian becomes the natural historian of man. The collecting still goes on, riches are piled up beyond the dreams of botanists and zoologists, in the islands, in New Zealand, in Australia; the really extraordinary phenomena get their sentence or paragraph; but all this has become the peculiar province of Solander, and of Spöring, and of Sydney Parkinson, busily, interminably, drawing and fighting the flies. Mr Buchan has succumbed to his fits — the loss of an ingenious and good young man, certainly, but what a loss to — we must seize on a word not yet invented — ethnography! For Mr Buchan was employed for the figure as well as the ‘landskip’. Banks would do his best in words. We have, in all the journals of this voyage, a pretty full description of the appearance and material culture of Tahiti, one not quite so good of New Zealand, one as good as possible of the eastern Australian coast; but it is Banks who gives us most. He even shows a capacity for going beyond the merely material. He has, in his excitement, his capacity for throwing himself into native ceremonial, his greed for recording everything, become the founder of Pacific ethnology. It may be pointed out that Tahitian was the only language not his own that Banks ever succeeded in learning.</p>
        <p>It was at Tahiti that Banks's contribution to the success of the voyage was greatest. Telescopes and drying-books were important, it was immensely important that <name key="name-131265" type="person">Spöring</name> should be able to mend the stolen and damaged astronomical quadrant; but a capacity for dealing with people was fundamental. Cook had it, but perhaps he was a little formal, he was feeling his way: with Banks, on the other hand, all was ease and spontaneity. No one so able as he to manage the ship's trade; no one so confident and generous in his proffered friendship, or — in the main — so naturally tactful. He had advantages: he was young and personable yet authoritative, good-humoured, interested and unabashed, equally prepared to denounce Tahitian wrongdoing and to apologize for his own <choice><orig>mis-
							<pb xml:id="n76" n="41"/>
							judgments</orig><reg>misjudgments</reg></choice>, attractive to men and women, old and young, chief and commoner alike. Who other than Banks would have thought of stripping and blackening himself to take part as a subordinate in a mourning ceremony — or so hugely enjoyed himself in the process? — he of ‘the white jacket and waistcoat, with silver frogs’, as described by Parkinson. And who would have measured with such diligence everything capable of being measured, or followed with such careful attention the process of beating out and dyeing tapa cloth, or of tattooing a young girl's buttocks, or have noted so exactly the amount of food consumed by one chiefly person at one meal? Banks, naturally, must be himself tattooed — though on the arm, it appears, and nowhere else.<note xml:id="fn1-41" n="1"><p>So, at least, I gather from a letter from <name type="person" key="name-401781">Charles Davy</name>, of Hensted, Suffolk, 5 June 1773 (D.T.C. I, p. 54): ‘If it is not giving you too much trouble, I should be much obliged to you for an exact copy of the characters stain'd upon your arm…’ Davy was the author of an essay on alphabetic writing, and was much interested to know whether the ‘characters’ represented amulets, things, or sounds. But it is odd that Banks does not mention this personal experience in his journal, if it did indeed take place.</p></note> All things conspired to favour him — the cast of his mind, his gift for observation and rapid description, his cheerfulness, his ability to ingratiate himself without trying. We read (not in his own journal) of only one quarrel in which he was involved, and it is significant that this was with another young man, Monkhouse the surgeon, and over women. Most attractive to women Banks most certainly was, and — with equal certainty — he carried in his own bosom a susceptible though discriminating heart. It was on his second day only in Tahiti that he turned from the exalted lady he referred to as Tomio — ‘ugly enough in conscience’ — to that ‘very pretty girl with a fire in her eyes’ he had ‘espied among the common crowd’. Was this pretty one identical with ‘Otheatea’ — ‘my flame’ ? It does not seem so, because Otheatea was attached to that eminent figure, Purea, who came later on the scene: well, was Otheatea one of the three charming celebrants of the ceremony of May 11 ? No, that is evidently not so; but they turn up at every point, these delightful young persons, from one end of the island to the other, and when once Banks notes, as a reason for his discourtesy to the eminent, that he was ‘otherwise engag'd,’ it was not, we must regretfully conclude, of <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name> that he was thinking.<note xml:id="fn2-41" n="2"><p>Considering this episode (see p. 279 below), the later intimate linking of Banks's name with that of Purea (p. 101) has its light irony.</p></note> Very pleasant all this was for Joseph Banks: we have forgotten entirely the gentleman of liberal fortune; New Burlington Street, Revesby Abbey have faded into an unremembered mist; we have merely an enthusiastic investigator deep in experience. Then we are
						<pb xml:id="n77" n="42"/>
						brought up with a round turn, we do have a touch of <hi rend="i">grand seigneur</hi>. There was the question of Tupaia the priest and expert navigator: should he be taken on the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> or not ? The captain thought not, the captain was not a romantic, he knew something of officialdom; ‘I therefore’, announces Banks to his journal, ‘have resolvd to take him. Thank heaven I have a sufficiency and I do not know why I may not keep him as a curiosity, as well as some of my neighbours do lions and tygers at a larger expence than he will ever probably put me to; the amusement I shall have in his future conversation and the benefit he will be of to this ship, as well as what he may be if another should be sent into these seas, will I think fully repay me’. It was the age of private zoos; but Tupaia would be better than a zoo. If Banks had only known it, a Tahitian was already the rage in Paris, with abbés writing poetry about him and fashionable ladies gazing at him desperately at the opera.</p>
        <p>There were the <name key="name-032033" type="place">Society Islands</name> to visit, and then a new voyage south, with prodigious quantities of sea-birds, and whales, and porpoises — but no Southern Continent — before Cook set his course for what he knew must exist, the eastern coast of New Zealand, up the western side of which Tasman had sailed in December 1642 and January 1643. Tasman had sprung to the conclusion that this must indeed be the coast of a continent, which stretched away eastward somehow to join with ‘Staten Land’ — i.e. Staten Island, on the eastern side of Le Maire Strait. The latter part of this assumption had been shattered by the Dutch in the same year 1643, by the simple process of sailing round Staten Island, and now Cook was to shatter the first part also, by sailing right round New Zealand, in a sort of <hi rend="i">toùr de force</hi> of navigation and survey which left very little to the fancy of speculative geographers. Banks had accepted the speculations — had, it appears, like most other people, taken a southern continent for granted — and he hung on to his belief that New Zealand must be a part of it with a comic persistence which he annotates very well himself, until the ship turned the southern point ‘to the total demolition of our aerial fabrick calld continent’. He was not, that is, as experimental, as sceptical, in his geographical approach as was Cook. His general reasonings on the subject, entered in his journal after the decision was taken to make for the east coast of ‘<name key="name-008963" type="place">New Holland</name>’ (and added to, as we can see, from the later references to the facilities at the Cape), show clear traces of discussion with Cook and the others in the great cabin of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>: here, we may be pretty certain, the plan for another and conclusive voyage
						<pb xml:id="n78" n="43"/>
						is a Cook and not a Banks plan. Cook, in his own journal, made it plain that he was guided by experience and would wait on fresh experience. Banks is rather more sentimental. To stand to the west-ward for New Holland might mean discoveries interesting to trade, but it would mean the abandonment of</p>
        <q>our first great object, the Southern Continent: this for my own part I confess I could not do without much regret. — That a Southern Continent really exists, I firmly beleive; but if ask'd why I beleive so, I confess my reasons are weak; yet I have a preposession in favour of the fact which I find it dificult to account for…. it must be prodigiously smaller in extent than the theoretical continent makers have supposd it to be…. we have taken from them their firmest Ground work, in Proving New Zealand to be an Island, which I beleive was lookd upon even by the most thinking people, to be in all probability at least a part of some Vast Countrey…. As for their reasoning about the Balancing of the two poles, which always appeard to me to be a most childish argument, we have already shorn off so much of their supposd counterbalancing land that by their own account the South pole would already be too light, unless what we have left should be made of very ponderous materials. As much fault as I find with these gentlemen will however probably recoil on myself, when I on so slight grounds as those I have mentiond again declare it to be my opinion that a Southern Continent exists, an opinion in favour of which I am strongly preposesd; but foolish and weak as all prepossesions must be thought I would not but declare myself so, least I might be supposd to have stronger reasons which I conceald.<note xml:id="fn1-43" n="1"><p>II, pp. 38–40 below.</p></note></q>
        <p>Perhaps we may regard this as in fact highly judicious; for there was, surely enough, a southern continent — though what we know as Antarctica, all that remained after a great deal more had been shorn off than was the result of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> operations, proved to be violently different from the construction of the theoretical continent makers.</p>
        <p>We are departing, however, from Banks's real rôle as that of an observer of natural phenomena; and in both New Zealand and Australia we find him at his best. New Zealand may in one way be judged his real triumph; for at no place there did he have a long stay, such as in Tahiti or even during the enforced weeks at the Endeavour river — weeks which were so fruitful in collecting and then became so dull. On the botanical side, the brief days in New Zealand harbours were highly productive; the description Banks gives of the people is — to speak moderately — extremely good. He even noticed dialectal differences in the pronunciation of the
						<pb xml:id="n79" n="44"/>
						language. If we had the whole of <name type="person" key="name-134496">William Brougham Monkhouse</name>'s journal, and if it kept on as it began for this New Zealand visit, we should clearly have something as good; and in the descriptions that have survived from the French visits of <name key="name-209367" type="person">Surville</name> and <name key="name-111360" type="person">Marion du Fresne</name> to Doubtless Bay and the Bay of Islands in 1770 and 1772 we have a great deal more detail on certain matters.<note xml:id="fn1-44" n="1"><p>See, e.g. <hi rend="i">Historical Records of New Zealand</hi>, II (Wellington 1914), pp. 230 ff.</p></note> In one or two respects, Banks went wrong: he gave a general judgment on the scantiest acquaintance with land birds, and he was all too eager to build that peculiar chief ‘Teratu’ into an ‘Indian King’;<note xml:id="fn2-44" n="2"><p>See Cook I, clii-iii.</p></note> but with all defects, he gives us a masterly sketch. In more than one way, also, he casts some light on his own character: as when he records his melancholy over what seemed either the enforced or the needless slaying of Maoris at <name key="name-100562" type="place">Poverty Bay</name>; or his enchantment at the singing of the bell-birds at <name key="name-131263" type="place">Queen Charlotte Sound</name>; or his determination, also at Queen Charlotte Sound, to get hold of positive material proofs of Maori cannibalism. On cannibalism he would philosophize, just as, beginning with his New Zealand and South Seas vocabularies and going on to whatever else he could pick up, he would, like a good eighteenth century philosopher (language exerted its charm on many men) reason historically on his findings in comparative philology. Indeed, bring all his scattered observations on this particular subject together, and one finds him not merely a collector of word-lists (there are, after all, longer lists in Parkinson) but the discoverer of the underlying linguistic unity that leads the modern philologist to talk of an ‘Austronesian’ language group. A little philosophizing there is too in the description of New South Wales: ‘Thus live these I had almost said happy people, content with little nay almost nothing, far enough removd from the anxieties attending upon riches’, and so on; this, in that day and age, was almost irresistible, but Banks does not go very far; Cook (of all people) is far sillier. Banks does not on the whole shine in general reflection; his strength, it becomes ever more clear as one proceeds with his journal, was description — often detailed, as in his account of the Australian ants; generally vivid, as when he writes of the harrowing twenty-three hours spent on the reef, or the shorter, but even more harrowing, period of tension outside the reef on August 16. ‘The Fear of Death is Bitter’, he says, and he leaves no doubt in our minds that there was ample opportunity to fear it, and that he knew the bitterness. He was an honest man. Cook, who found Banks
						<pb xml:id="n80" n="45"/>
						(to use the old phrase) so ‘damned good to steal from’, and whose own statement is habitually one of moderation, does not seem to have found him ever immoderate. So it was with a very large cargo not only of dried plants and other specimens, but of immediately remembered tribulation that the ship turned the northern point of Australia into the Endeavour Channel of Torres Strait. It is curious how lightly Banks takes this significant moment in geographical history. ‘We observd both last night and this morn that the main lookd very narrow so we began to look out for the Passage we expected to find between new Holland and New Guinea. At noon one was seen very narrow but appearing to widen: we resolv'd to try it so stood in’. To a student of the cartographical history of the Pacific there is a slight sense of anti-climax about this. The problem was not, evidently, a problem Banks worried about. He had Dalrymple's map. The geography was incidental to the botany.</p>
        <p>There was indeed a passage, and with the ship safely through it the exploratory part of the voyage may be said to have ended, whatever Cook found out about the sandbanks of <name key="name-019923" type="place">New Guinea</name>. It may be said to have ended, if we need a precise date, on 23 August 1770, when he and Banks came away from <name key="name-402248" type="place">Booby Island</name>, where now is the lighthouse marking the western entrance to the strait — the island on which Banks, instead of shooting boobies, ‘botanizd and found some plants which I had not before seen’. But his explorations were not at an end. The ‘people’ were becoming bored with the voyage. They were not starved, they were well looked after, their health, at the end of two years out from home, was excellent; not one man had died of sickness — an astonishing feat for any captain. What they wanted, however, was not the consolation of good health or reflections on the excellence of their commander's administration, but a known port, the sight of European faces, and a great deal of fresh food of the kind that was recognized by Europeans as food. After that they wanted a conventional voyage across known seas homeward. They were suffering, Banks concluded, from ‘nostalgia’ — a word the doctors were beginning to use. Not so himself and the captain: their minds were busily occupied as usual. Banks's mind was to be busily occupied to the very end. He could not find anything new, strictly speaking, in plants at Savu, or Batavia, or the Cape; was not everything East Indian in Rumphius, known from the great folios in Europe? Had not Linnaeus a generation earlier got the very <hi rend="i">Musa</hi>, the banana, noblest of plants, to flower and fruit in the
						<pb xml:id="n81" n="46"/>
						glass-house of Georg Clifford, East India Company director, at Hartecamp near Leyden ? But he could find plenty of plants and fruit new to him that were a joy to identify and describe; and there was still man in his infinite variety of appearance and behaviour and mentality to enquire into. What happened when one raja succeeded another in Savu, how the Dutch collected tribute, the domestic architecture, markets, sanitation, economics, government and currency of Batavia, Javanese folk-lore, the position of the Chinese under Dutch rule, specimens of language, the aspect of <name key="name-010383" type="place">Cape Town</name>, Hottentot physiology, South African settlement and animals, the charms of South African young women, Bougainville's voyage — all, whether observed or enquired into in conversation, were assiduously noted down and recorded. And there was still St Helena. Banks was omnivorous. There were excellent precedents. Had not Linnaeus, the Master, been omnivorous in exactly the same way on his famous Lapland journey ? Was not the highest peak of public interest always reached at his appearance in Lapland suit, with drum ? And was not Batavia as much unknown to the English as Lapland, or the South Seas? It seemed well worth an editor's while, when the official volumes on the voyage were in preparation, to give as many pages to that town and its people, drawn from Banks, as to the general account of New Zealand.</p>
        <p>Meanwhile, of course, the most dreadful part of the whole great three years’ voyage had come to pass, the onset of malaria, and fearfully worse, dysentery, at Batavia and on the passage between Prince's Island and the Cape. The achievement had been masterly; the luck, after coming off the reef with a paper-thin bottom and a hole plugged with coral, stupendous: and there is something cruelly gratuitous in the fatal sickness that then struck practically the entire ship's company, and that neither Cook, nor Banks, nor anyone else could avert by whatever thought beforehand, or action in its presence. The Batavian sailors, noted Banks, ‘were almost as spectres’; so that the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> people, ‘who truly might be calld rosy and plump’ — after all those months! — ‘Jeerd and flouted much at their brother sea men's white faces’. It was too soon to jeer and flout. Too many men were to die; and Banks's own physical agonies were of a sort he had not taken into account when writing so glibly from Rio to Morton of the comparison between the pains of the body and of the mind. Of Banks's own people Solander narrowly escaped with his life, to gossip as cheerily as ever to a sympathetic and wondering London; but poor Tupaia (if we may make him belong to Banks, like a lion or tiger) and his
						<pb xml:id="n82" n="47"/>
						servant-boy died; Parkinson died; Spöring died. Their virtues deserved a better fate; they were both men to whom the historian of the voyage owes much. By the time the ship left the Cape, where three more men died (a fourth, <name key="name-134322" type="person">Molyneux</name> the master, succumbed shortly after she sailed), the sickness was virtually over; Lieutenant <name key="name-131255" type="person">Hicks</name> died on the passage home, but he had begun the voyage with consumption, and was a doomed man. Nothing further happened to Banks. The ship’ picked up the East India fleet at St Helena and sailed with it for a while, until outpaced; she sighted England on 10 July 1771, and two days later the adventurer closed his journal and landed at Deal.</p>
        <p>The question arises for general consideration, as he steps on shore, how really good is this journal? Various portions of it have been praised in the foregoing pages, but can one summarize simply, by rendering additional praise, and leaving it at that? Or must one make modifications? Does Banks give us an adequate account of the voyage ? Is he invariably accurate ? In particular — though we have called him a good observer — was he a really good observer?</p>
        <p>We may answer, first of all, by stressing again some of the journal's virtues. It is full, it contains a large amount of invaluable detail, it has unending vivacity, it is obviously the work of an exceedingly quick and lively mind. The mind is that of a young man. To read the original, with its quite astounding lack of punctuation, is to get the feeling of almost breathless excitement, as the impressions crowded and the words tumbled on to the paper. That in itself is good, in a record of discovery, as long as the record remains coherent, and we cannot say that Banks lacks coherency. We may say certainly that his journal is essential to an understanding of the voyage and its results: without it we should be disastrously worse off in our knowledge. When Cook's journal was turned over to Dr <name key="name-150158" type="person">Hawkesworth</name> for editing, with the journals of the voyages of <name key="name-150151" type="person">Byron</name> and <name key="name-150152" type="person">Wallis</name> and <name key="name-150153" type="person">Carteret</name>, Banks, on the suggestion of Sandwich,<note xml:id="fn1-47" n="1"><p>So I infer from <name key="name-150158" type="person">Hawkesworth</name>'s words: ‘I am happy in your Lordship's powerfull Influence with M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks for the use of his Journall. I flatter myself that I shall be able to prevent ill humour, and satisfy the utmost Delicacy of a Gentleman to whom I shall be so much obliged’.—Hawkesworth to Sandwich, 19 November 1771; Sandwich Papers, Hinchingbrooke.</p></note> handed over his journal also. Hawkesworth was delighted; he was a general practitioner in literature, not a seaman or a geographer; he had not the remotest interest in the southern continent or the behaviour of Venus; but he knew what would go
						<pb xml:id="n83" n="48"/>
						down with the public; he knew — if the vulgarism be allowed — when he was on to a good thing. He knew what to accentuate, and when ‘Joseph Banks Esquire, a Gentleman possessed of considerable landed property in Lincolnshire’, gave his permission to an editor to take out of the gentleman's journal whatever the editor thought would ‘improve or embellish’ a narrative, that editor hastened to improve and to embellish. ‘I knew the advantage would be great’, wrote Hawkesworth in his introduction,<note xml:id="fn1-48" n="1"><p>Hawkesworth, I, pp. xiii-xv.</p></note> ‘for few philosophers have furnished materials for accounts of voyages undertaken to discover new countries. The adventurers in such expeditions have generally looked only upon the great outline of Nature, without attending to the variety of shades within, which give life and beauty to the piece…. It is indeed fortunate for mankind, when wealth and science, and a strong inclination to exert the powers of both for purposes of public benefit, unite in the same person…’. This is just, though it could have been said less respectfully, and in fewer words. And Hawkesworth's text is, in the end, at least as much Banks as Cook.<note xml:id="fn2-48" n="2"><p>‘But in the papers which were communicated to me by Mr. Banks, I found a great variety of incidents which had not come under the notice of Captain Cook, with descriptions of countries and people, their productions, manners, customs, religion, policy, and language, much more full and particular than were expected from a Gentleman whose station and office naturally turned his principal attention to other objects; for these particulars, therefore, besides many practical observations, the Public is indebted to Mr. Banks. To Mr. Banks also the Public is indebted for the designs of the engravings which illustrate and adorn the account of this voyage….’—Hawkesworth. II, p. xiv.</p></note> Yet he could not drop Cook — if for no other reason, because Cook gave him the voyage as a piece of navigation, as an exercise in geographical discovery; which, after all, apart from the observation of the Transit, was its purpose. This Banks did not give him. The practical seaman, pushing into the Pacific, with some island landfall before him over the horizon, and a lively feeling about coral reefs, would take Cook's journal rather than Banks's, if both were offered him. The observations he wanted were precise ones, in the nautical sense, not those of the natural historian or of the ‘human geographer’ — though it was surprising how many of those he would find in Cook too.</p>
        <p>But this is, strictly speaking, irrelevant. Banks kept a journal, not ‘of’ the voyage, but ‘on’ the voyage. We may be surprised at some of his omissions. It would have been interesting to get his view of the situation surrounding the cropping of Mr <name key="name-134488" type="person">Orton</name>'s ears, that night of drunken frolic on the Australian coast that aroused Cook's anger so; one would have expected him to notice, if barely, the death of poor Hicks, whose rôle as second in command
						<pb xml:id="n84" n="49"/>
						had been not unimportant. But though we should have liked him to give us even more than he does give us, that again is not the point. We are not to ask him — it would be absurd to ask him — for everything. He makes a large contribution to the material for the history of the voyage, and the voyage is to be understood in its totality only from study of all the material — his own journal, Cook's journal, the logs and journals of the rest of the ship's company, the other documentation, the scientific results printed by the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> and the observations critically examined later by <name type="person" key="name-134492">William Wales</name>, later geographical and hydrographic knowledge, Solander's great series of botanical and zoological notes and descriptions, the natural history specimens brought back, the drawings, the artifacts. As the list lengthens, we realize how very little we have in fact known about this familiar piece of history. The question therefore is, is Banks accurate as well as interesting in what he writes? The answer is, on the whole and so far as he can be checked by the words of his shipmates or of later observers, yes, admirably so. We should be lucky indeed to have corresponding journals for certain other great voyages of discovery. What makes us hesitate is some of his remarks about St Helena, which, in their Hawkes-worthian guise as part of Cook's journal, got Cook into trouble on his homeward passage in 1775. They were damning paragraphs. Wanton cruelty to slaves? No carriages or wheelbarrows? No porter's knots? Ill-built houses? The inhabitants were outraged. Cook was mortified. ‘How these things came to be thus missrepresented, I can not say, as they came not from me…. I am not a little obliged to some people in the isle for the obligeing manner they pointed out these Mistakes’.<note xml:id="fn1-49" n="1"><p>Cook II, p.662. Cf. Cook I, pp. ccxlv-lvii. See also II, p.267, n. below.</p></note> Banks should certainly have been more careful about his generalizations after so short a visit, one day of which was devoted to ‘Botanizing on the Ridge’ and climbing around the hills, and we may need to be cautious about his hearsay evidence. These particular remarks, however, are an extremely small part of a large journal. If we go further back, to Tahiti, we find a little misapprehension about the class of persons known as the <hi rend="i">teuteu</hi>, the hereditary retainers of the chiefly class or <hi rend="i">arii</hi>; the <hi rend="i">teuteu</hi>, concluded Banks, were ‘upon almost the same footing as the Slaves in the East India Islands’. They were not slaves, and he had no direct knowledge of slaves anywhere; but class-structure is a difficult thing to gauge, even in three months, and the mistake was pardonable. In New Zealand, with preconceived notions in his head about ‘kings’, and inadequate acquaintance with the
						<pb xml:id="n85" n="50"/>
						Polynesian language, he made the large mistake about ‘Teratu’; but that too is very pardonable. His account of the construction of the Maori canoe is quite inaccurate,<note xml:id="fn1-50" n="1"><p>‘… built of very thin planks sewd together’.—See II, p. 22 below.</p></note> and compares badly with his description of ship-building in the <name key="name-032033" type="place">Society Islands</name>. In giving his general account of New South Wales he denied too definitely the existence of fresh water: true, it had not been found conveniently all along the coast, and Cook's name, ‘Thirsty Sound’, indicates decided disappointment. Cook nevertheless is the more judicious: the country, he reports, ‘is indefferently well watered, even in the dry Seasons, with small Brooks and streams…. It was only in <hi rend="i">Thirsty Sound</hi> where we could find no fresh water’. ‘Indifferently’ means moderately, tolerably; Banks, we may take it, wanted a large river. If he had been Dampier (to whom he refers more than once in other connections), digging unsuccessfully in the sand, he might have had more reason for his remark. Off the east coast of Africa he registers a much greater alarm at what he regards as the ship's dangerous predicament than does anyone else. Is this to be taken as an error, merely a landsman's excited judgment, or the Voice of Truth which the seamen were willing to smother? Between Batavia and the Cape, he is more than once demonstrably wrong over his dates; he is wrong again at the Cape, for which indeed he refers to ‘my irregular journal’,<note xml:id="fn2-50" n="2"><p>It had been irregular before, at Batavia, but certainly no blame attaches for that, or for the absence of any specific entry at all between 14 and 24 November 1770.</p></note> and he is wrong in the Atlantic after leaving St Helena. What then, taking such matters into consideration, are we to conclude? The mere fact that we pick them out so is enlightening. Banks was a good observer. His record is a trustworthy as well as lively one. It is also, one may reflect as one turns its rich pages, apart altogether from its reporting of the varied strange and new, a not inadequate introduction to the natural history, and to the classic authors of the natural history, of the eighteenth century.</p>
        <p>He stepped ashore into an agreeable aura of public attention. Cook reported to the Admiralty, and went home to Mrs Cook and his modest house in the unfashionable village of Mile End. But above New Burlington Street, we may assume, the sky was radiant with glory, as Mr Banks gazed once more on papered walls and curtained windows, and <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name> and <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name> began to unpack the pressed plants and bottles of animals in spirits, the island curios, the <hi rend="i">tapa</hi> cloth and New Zealand cloaks, the fisgigs
						<pb xml:id="n86" n="51"/>
						and throwing sticks from New Holland, the shells and the drawings. The newspaper offices buzzed with paragraphs. The voyage had been protracted beyond its estimated length; there had been anxious weeks at the Admiralty, and fears that the ship was lost. The newspapers had opined that it had been sent to the bottom ‘by order of a jealous Court’ — oh dire atrocious Spain! — with Mr Banks and ‘the famous Dr Solander’ as well as its less distinguished company. In October 1770 Sarah Sophia Banks, steadfast in faith, had assured Thomas Pennant that there was not the least foundation for these very alarming reports — ‘we begin to fear we shall not see them till spring, upon account of their having missed the Trade Wind, but that is a very different situation to what the papers represented’.<note xml:id="fn1-51" n="1"><p>S.S.B. to Pennant, 6 October 1770; ATL, ALS 269.</p></note> Now all was joy, and soon she would be settling down to copy her brother's journal for him. Poetry was not slow to celebrate the voyagers.</p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>The muse, O BANKS, with great respect attends,</l>
          <l>To hail thee welcome to desponding friends,</l>
          <l>Who long with pungent sorrows were assail'd,</l>
          <l>Whilst thoughts uncertain of thy life prevail'd: …</l>
        </lg>
        <p>The muse<note xml:id="fn2-51" n="2"><p>It was a Quaker muse. The lines quoted are from an effusion by <name type="person" key="name-401991">Mrs Jane Gomeldon</name>, the cousin of Sydney Parkinson; they were written on receiving a letter from Sydney at Batavia, which announced the expedition's safety, and are prefixed to some copies o Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Journal.</hi> See Cook I, p. 627.</p></note> contrasted him with the generality of modern youths, greatly to their disadvantage, and contemplated his attributes with the highest approval. The newspapers became positively reverential : they were all Mr Banks, or Mr Banks and Dr Solander — or sometimes Dr Solander and Mr Banks; it was Mr Banks's voyage, Mr Banks's and Dr Solander's discoveries; the nobility were calling at Mr Banks's house to see his curiosities; there was a more specialized excitement over the Tahitian seeds now germinating in Mr Lee's Hammersmith soil;<note xml:id="fn3-51" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Letters and Journals of Lady Mary Coke</hi>, III (Edinburgh 1892), p. 44.3</p></note>. Mr Banks had brought back ‘no less than seventeen thousand plants, of a kind never before seen in this kingdom’; Mr Banks was introduced to His Majesty at St James's Palace by Lord Beauchamp, and received very graciously; Dr Solander and Mr Banks had the honour of another interview at Richmond, ‘when they presented’ the monarch ‘with a coronet of gold, set around with feathers, which was given them by a chief on the coast of Chili’; the peak was reached with the information that ‘Mr. Banks is to have two ships from government to pursue his discoveries in the South Seas, and will sail upon his second voyage
						<pb xml:id="n87" n="52"/>
						next March’. The peak was left with a flight into the pure empyrean when it was announced that ‘the celebrated Mr Banks’ would shortly make another voyage to St George's Islands, with three ships, men, arms and provisions, in order to plant a colony there.<note xml:id="fn1-52" n="1"><p>For these quotations in their contexts see Cook I, pp. 642 ff., except that on the ‘coronet of gold’, which I take from the <hi rend="i">Annual Register</hi>, 1771, Chronicle p. 150, for 23 September.</p></note> Dr Solander and Mr Banks even attended a private meeting of the Board of Admiralty, to receive instructions for this intended voyage; and now they were to have one ship of fifty guns, two frigates, and three smaller sail. They were particularly charged, not with colonization, but with making discoveries on the coasts of New Holland and New Zealand, ‘which are at present almost entirely unknown’.<note xml:id="fn2-52" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Gent. Mag.</hi>, XLI (1771), p. 567.</p></note> It was more than a nine days’ wonder; and everybody wanted to hang on the heroes’ lips. Lady Mary Coke, after recording the gossip for Friday, 9 August, remarked ‘But the people who are most talk'd of at present are Mr Banks and Doctor Solander: I saw them at Court and afterwards at L[ad]y Hertford's, but did not hear them give any account of their Voyage round the world, which I am told is very amusing’.<note xml:id="fn3-52" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Letters and Journals</hi>, III, p. 435.</p></note> They must have talked a great deal at one time or another.<note xml:id="fn4-52" n="4"><p>One person who got no satisfaction from the conversation, though we do not know when it took place (perhaps it was on Banks's passage through Scotland late in 1772), was Lord Monboddo. ‘We travelled towards Aberdeen, another University, and in the way dined at Lord Monbodo's, the Scotch Judge who has lately written a strange book about the origin of Language, in which he traces Monkeys up to Men, and says that in some countries the human species have tails like other beasts. He enquired for these longtailed Men of Banks, and was not well pleased, that they had not been found in all his peregrination’.—Johnson to Mrs Thrale, 25 August 1773, <hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. R. W. Chapman, Oxford 1952), I, p. 321.</p></note> They dined with Dr Johnson and Boswell, and Johnson, at Banks's request, wrote the celebrated distich in honour of the ship's goat, now browsing in distinguished superannuation.<note xml:id="fn5-52" n="5"><p>Johnson to Banks, 27 February 1772, <hi rend="i">Letters</hi>, I, p. 272. Boswell himself did not run down the gentlemen till later, as we learn from his London Journal, 22 March 1772. On that date he visited <name type="person" key="name-134394">Sir John Pringle</name>, the President of the Royal Society. ‘He had with him Lord Lyttelton and several more Gentlemen, in particular the famous Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, whom I had a great curiosity to see. Mr. Banks was a genteel young man, very black [i.e. dark], and of an agreable countenance, easy and communicative, without any affectation or appearance of assuming. Dr. Solander, though a Swede, spoke english with more fluency and propriety than most natives.’—<hi rend="i">Private Papers of <name type="person" key="name-100403">James Boswell</name></hi>, 9 (New Haven 1930), p. 28. Much (in fact years) later, Johnson remarked to Mrs Thrale, ‘You may remember, I thought Banks had not gained much by circumnavigating the world’; but what precisely he meant by this, or when he first said it, or how he could judge, we do not know. He wrote on 16 October 1780, <hi rend="i">Letters</hi>, II, p. 406</p></note>. They dined with the Royal Society Club. In November they went to Oxford to receive honorary doctorates.<note xml:id="fn6-52" n="6"><p>They were both created D.C.L. on 21 November 1771.—Foster, <hi rend="i">Alumni Oxonienses</hi>, I (London 1887), p. 57. This was the only academic degree Banks ever attained.</p></note> They went to stay with</p>
        <pb xml:id="n88"/>
        <p>
          <figure xml:id="Bea01BankP003a">
            <graphic url="Bea01BankP003a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP003a-g"/>
            <head>Sydney Parkinson</head>
          </figure>
        </p>
        <pb xml:id="n89"/>
        <pb xml:id="n90" n="53"/>
        <p>Sandwich, who had become First Lord of the Admiralty, at Hin-chingbrooke. When the Royal Society measured the height of St Paul's, in its researches into atmospheric weight at different elevations, the names of Dr Solander and Mr Banks were particularly noticed.<note xml:id="fn1-53" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Annual Register</hi>, 1771, Chronicle, p. 154, for 12 November.</p></note></p>
        <p>Of course Ellis wrote to Linnaeus very early, indeed first on 10 May the day after the newspapers heard from the India House the definite news of the ship's arrival at Batavia; the learned and curious in England felt universal joy. Solander would be introduced to the Royal Family as soon as he was returned, and then probably his merits would be rewarded. The travellers did return; they were ‘laden with spoils, particularly of the vegetable world, some few rare ones of the animal kingdom; but I do not hear much of the mineral kingdom…. Dr. Solander has been very ill, but is now very well…. They have sufficient for one thousand folio plates…. They are so very busy getting their things on shore, and seeing their friends, after an absence of three years, that they have scarce time to tell us of any thing but the many narrow escapes they have had from imminent danger. … Be so good to inform Dr. Solander's friends of the success he has had in returning safe after so many perils, laden with the greatest treasure of Natural History that ever was brought into any country at one time by two persons. … I hope Dr. Solander will write to you soon himself; I shall beg of him not to defer it’.<note xml:id="fn2-53" n="2"><p>Ellis to Linnaeus, 10 May, 16 July 1771; J.E.S. I, pp. 259–60, 263–4.</p></note> Solander did defer it. The old man, feverish with excitement at the prospect of seeing new plants from <hi rend="i">Banksia</hi>, or <hi rend="i">Terra australis’</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-53" n="3"><p>The phrase is in a later letter from Linnaeus to Ellis, 20 December 1771; ibid., p. 123.</p></note> wrote at once both to Banks and to Solander; to the ‘immortal Banks’, the glory of England and the whole world, to whom botanists should raise a statue more enduring than the Pyramids;<note xml:id="fn4-53" n="4"><p>8 August 1771; B. M. Add. MS 8094.33. The letter is in Latin.</p></note> but, said Ellis, ‘they have been so hurried with company that they have very little time’ to write back.<note xml:id="fn5-53" n="5"><p>Ellis to Linnaeus, 19 November 1771; J.E.S.I, pp. 271–2.</p></note> The hurry of company was quite enough also to keep them from sending the Master specimens of their discoveries, and when he read in the English newspapers of an intended new voyage, he was almost sleepless with worry.<note xml:id="fn6-53" n="6"><p>Linnaeus to Ellis, 22 October 1771; ibid., I, p. 267. See p. 70–1 below.</p></note></p>
        <p>The hurry of company might deter Banks from writing to the man whose correspondence, three years before, he would have regarded as a sublime honour; but it could not save him from
						<pb xml:id="n91" n="54"/>
						embarrassments. The first of these arose from <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name>; who, it appears, at the intoxicating tidings of the arrival of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, did not hurry up at once to town, but, with proper delicacy, waited a few days in the country for her impassioned lover to make some advance to her. Now Banks may well be pardoned if, during an absence of three years, of much stimulation to his mind and some to his heart, the vision of Miss Blosset grew dim. What home thoughts from abroad he entrusted to his journal do not embrace that young woman, and one of his remarks upon the Cape would have been singularly discouraging to her, could she have read it. He admired the Cape ladies: ‘In general they are handsome with clear skins and high Complexions and when married (no reflextions upon my country women) are the best housekeepers imaginable and great childbearers; had I been inclind for a wife I think this is the place of all others I have seen where I could best have suited myself. One would guess at this stage that not merely had the vision of Miss Blosset grown dim; she must have been entirely blotted from his mind. Return, however, revived the awkward memory; our young man found he had not the slightest interest in Miss Blosset, but what was he to do? He shelved the problem in the hurry of company; he did nothing. His friends, whose memories had been more lively, were distressed; in the end they were appalled. It became plain that Mr Banks was not acting like a gentleman. Gossip was lively: we have Lady Mary Coke again, as early as 14 August. ‘I saw Mr. Morrice this morning…. He was excessively drole according to custom, and said he hoped Mr Banks, who since his return has desired Miss Blosset will excuse his marrying her, will pay her for the materials of all the work'd waistcoats She made for him during the time he was sailing round the World. Everybody agrees that She passed those three years in retirement, but whether She imploy'd herself in working waistcoats for Mr Banks I can't tell you, but if She loved him I pity her disappointment’.<note xml:id="fn1-54" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Letters and Journals</hi>, III, p, 437.</p></note> Miss Blosset was indeed in the most unenviable situation. At least she managed to keep her head rather better than did Mr Banks, if we may rely on the circumstantial information supplied by one friend of Banks, the good <name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name>, to another, Thomas Pennant, in the following letters.<note xml:id="fn2-54" n="2"><p>Both in ATL, ALS 269. They appear to have come to the library with other fragments of Pennant's papers, some already quoted. The second is merely the portion of a letter, with no date or address, but in the same writing as the first, to which it almost certainly refers.</p></note></p>
        <pb xml:id="n92" n="55"/>
        <quote>
          <floatingText xml:id="t1-body-d1-t3">
            <body xml:id="t1-body-d1-t3-body">
              <head>(i)</head>
              <opener>
                <date when="1771">Carnarvon Aug<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 24 1771</date>
                <salute>Dear S<hi rend="sup">r</hi></salute>
              </opener>
              <p>The account I have receivd of M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks's infidelity is the following &amp; I believe you may depend upon every circumstance of it.</p>
              <p>Upon his arrival in England he took no sort of notice of Miss Blosset for the first week or nearly so at the same time that he went about London &amp; visited other friends &amp; acquaintance.</p>
              <p>On this Miss Blosset set out for London &amp; wrote him a letter desiring an interview of explanation.</p>
              <p>To this M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Bankes answer'd by a letter of 2 or 3 sheets professing love &amp;c but that he found he was of too volatile a temper to marry.</p>
              <p>The answer as you may suppose rather astonished &amp; some how or other after this there was an interview when Miss Bl: swoon'd &amp;c &amp; M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Bankes was so affected that Marriage was again concluded upon. Notwithstanding this however a short time afterwards he writes a second letter to the same purport with the former, &amp; leaves poor Miss Bl: in the most distressing as well as ridiculous situation imaginable.</p>
              <p>Mr Bankes's behaviour seems therefore to me to be totally without excuse as he admits he gave Miss Bl: the strongest reason to expect he would return her husband.</p>
              <p>Supposing him however to have discovere'd in a three year voyage (during which by the way he would scarcely have seen any other woman) that he should not prove a good husband.</p>
              <p>Should he not have immediately dispatch'd a Messenger on his landing with the best reasons he could muster for declining what he had so thoroughly settled? Should he not also have immediately plac'd in the Stocks &amp; in Miss Blossets name a most noble satisfaction (as far as money could repair it) for this injury. And when he had done both these things could the satisfaction be otherwise than highly inadequate?</p>
              <p>To prove however beyond a doubt how very shamefull his behaviour hath been to this poor girl M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Bankes his mother who always disapprov'd of the match blames him as much as anyone.</p>
              <p>The Blossets also as you may imagine resent the injury to such a degree that upon some ones intimating that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks could not do otherwise than make a most large pecuniary satisfaction they declare that the offer of his whole estate would be consider'd as the highest insult &amp; that the only consolation they can ever receive is that Miss Blosset will not now become the wife of a man who hath behav'd so infamously.</p>
              <p>I find this account runs to such a length that I must deferr my Welsh Anecdotes to the next place — Dolgelly.</p>
              <closer><salute>Ever Yrs</salute><signed>D:B:</signed>
						P: S: The Blossets complain of Solander as I am told but I have not heard any particulars of what they lay to his charge.
					</closer>
            </body>
          </floatingText>
        </quote>
        <pb xml:id="n93" n="56"/>
        <quote>
          <floatingText xml:id="t1-body-d1-t4">
            <body xml:id="t1-body-d1-t4-body">
              <head>(ii)</head>
              <p>I have receiv'd at this place a most particular account from a Lady of what hath pass'd between M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks &amp; Miss Blosset who strongly confirms that the former made the most explicit declaration.</p>
              <p>What think you of the following facts?</p>
              <p>M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks had an interview with her in London which lasted from ten O'clock at Night to ten the next Morning during which he said he was ready to marry her immediately.</p>
              <p>Miss Blosset however would not catch at this proposal but told him if he was of the same mind a fortnight hence, she would gladly attend him to church Three or four days after which he wrote her a letter desiring to be off.</p>
              <p>M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Tunstall writes me word that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks and D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander mean to fall plump from the <name key="name-170606" type="place">Cape of Good Hope</name> upon 70 Deg<hi rend="sup">s</hi> of Southern Latitude</p>
              <closer><salute>Ever Yrs</salute><signed>D:B:</signed>
						P.S. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks in this conversation said he had acted by <hi rend="i">the advice of a friend</hi> &amp; hence the Blossets blame Solander as I before inform'd you.<seg><note xml:id="fn1-56" n="1"><p>The other side of the page on which the foregoing is written has for some reason been crossed through, but contains, <hi rend="i">inter alia</hi>, the following remarks which probably refer to Bougainville's account of his voyage, published in 1771: ‘I do not conceive that Bougainville or Commercons observations will be as accurate as Solanders, however I think you must allow that the Voyage is very entertaining &amp; interesting. I wish the French would learn of the Northern Naturalists to <hi rend="i">describe</hi> &amp; that the Swedes would learn of them to think’.</p></note></seg>
					</closer>
            </body>
          </floatingText>
        </quote>
        <p>Whether Solander's common sense made him urge Banks to get out of the false situation at any cost to his dignity, or whether Banks's imagination conjured up the advice of a friend’ to help him out, we do not know. Solander himself was a confirmed bachelor, and knowing Banks by this time pretty well, he may have judged that the young man was no husband for Miss Blosset. There, it seems, the afflicting matter must be left.</p>
        <p>Miss Blosset was not the only embarrassment that afflicted the returned traveller in the midst of his glory. There was also Stanfield Parkinson. From the difficulties hereby created we see Banks emerge with more credit. These difficulties lasted some months, and involved a number of people, but it is convenient to deal with the whole rather tangled story here. After the death of the unfortunate <name type="person" key="name-401900">Joel Parkinson</name>, brewer, of Edinburgh, it appears that not only Sydney but his mother, Elizabeth, his elder brother Stanfield, and his sister Britannia, had migrated to London. Sydney, accomplished and amiable, had been engaged by Banks as his botanical draughtsman for the voyage at a salary of £80 a year. On his departure from England he left his will with his sister Britannia.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n94" n="57"/>
        <p>He had worked exceedingly hard at his drawings,<note xml:id="fn1-57" n="1"><p>Cf. Banks's entry for 12 May 1770, II, p. 62 below: ‘In 14 days just, one draughtsman has made 94. sketch drawings, so quick a hand has he acquird by use’. This could be no one but Sydney.</p></note> and in what spare time he could make had not only collected shells and other curiosities but had put down many notes and drafts for a journal, a fair copy of which was generally thought to have been written by him; what he wrote as well as what he drew was in any case highly admired by his shipmates. He died on 26 January 1771. Before he died, he asked Solander to see that his friend James Lee the nurseryman had the perusal of his papers; and he seems to have given Banks a copy of his will. Banks handed this copy to the executors, Elizabeth the mother, and Stanfield, who found it contained no alterations; and as Elizabeth withdrew from all administration in favour of her son, Stanfield entered upon the execution of the will. There are three factors on the Banks side to be noted at this moment: Banks was in all the hurry of company, his mind fully engaged with his own concerns, which included the distraction and confusion of his relations with Miss Blosset; he was a gentleman, who did not like his word to be doubted; he intended well by the Parkinsons. On the Parkinson side, it must be noted that Stanfield, though carrying on trade as an upholsterer, was an illiterate man, and though a Quaker, highly suspicious. It is possible also that he was already affected by the mental instability which increased until, not long afterwards, he died insane; but whether or not that is true, his suspicions were raised enormously by Banks's dilatoriness. Banks, undoubtedly, should have acted much more promptly than he did. In London, it may be surmised, he was a less tactful man than Banks in Tahiti; the matter was for him a quite subordinate one, and Stanfield, after the first contacts, merely an impertinent tradesman; with Stanfield, on the other hand, suspicion became an obsession. There were not wanting other people, admirers of Sydney among the ship's company, and friends of his own, to build up an entirely false picture of the literary and other remains of poor Sydney, and of his own rights.</p>
        <p>When the ship arrived in England, Banks wrote to Stanfield, who immediately called on him, to receive an assurance of Banks's interest, and his intention of rendering an account of all Sydney's belongings. Banks also immediately gave him work, and continued to do so throughout the misunderstandings that now followed.<note xml:id="fn2-57" n="2"><p>Stanfield's receipts, preserved in the ‘Voluntiers’ volume cited below, p. 68, n. 2, are for goods supplied or work done for Banks, sometimes at New Burlington Street, from 20 July 1771 to 24 February 1772, a total of £89 8s 6d.</p></note></p>
        <pb xml:id="n95" n="58"/>
        <p>Shortly afterwards Stanfield was told by somebody else (hearsay begins to play its part) that James Lee had been informed by Banks that Sydney had bequeathed his journal to Lee, together with other papers that had been lost. This at once put him on fire; he questioned Banks, who confirmed the information, but said he could not find the journal: as soon as his goods arrived from the ship, he added, Stanfield would receive Sydney's, among which there were some curiosities he would like to buy. Several weeks passed during which Banks made no sign, and the fire continued to burn. Stanfield then called on Banks, who arranged to send him some, at least, of Sydney's property. This came; it did not correspond with the inventory, said Stanfield; people talked to him again, and he began to ask further questions. Five weeks later Banks sent for him, to complain about these enquiries; in answer to which Stanfield complained that Banks was wrongfully keeping Sydney's journal and drawings. At these two last meetings, it seems, one or the other, or both, men had difficulty in preserving moderation of speech. Banks, referring the question to Solander, found that he had been mistaken over the alleged bequest to Lee; Stanfield saw a small bundle of papers in Sydney's handwriting. He went away to brood for another considerable time, hearing no more from Banks; and then began to call for assistance on <name type="person" key="name-401798">Dr John Fothergill</name>, a fellow Quaker of his own Westminster connection, a physician famous alike for his professional skill, scientific leanings, and benevolence,<note xml:id="fn1-58" n="1"><p>John Fothergill M.D., F.R.S. (1712–80), was eminent also as a botanist. He had a fine botanical garden at Upton, near Stratford, and, like Banks later, employed a number of draughtsmen. Banks greatly admired his collections. His <hi rend="i">Works</hi> were published by <name type="person" key="name-401916">John Coakley Lettsom</name> his pupil and successor in medical practice, in 1783–4. <name type="person" key="name-017144">Benjamin Franklin</name>'s judgment was, ‘I can hardly conceive that a better man has ever existed’.</p></note> who had known <name type="person" key="name-401900">Joel Parkinson</name> in Edinburgh, and in London had given his patronage to both the sons. Fothergill, against Stanfield's expressed intention of going to law, counselled patience and reliance on the generosity of 'a gentleman of J. Banks's character’; but at last, badgered beyond endurance, consented to approach the gentleman, a perfect stranger,<note xml:id="fn2-58" n="2"><p>At least, Fothergill himself says (Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Journal</hi>, ‘Explanatory Remarks’, p. 3), ‘I wrote to J. Banks, to whom I was then personally a stranger’. But then how do we account for the present of ‘the North American apples which D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Fothergill gave me’, made into a pie on 23 September 1769 (p. 393 below)? Perhaps they came through an intermediary.</p></note> in the hope of bringing the absurd difference to an end; he also had some talk with Solander, an old friend, to whom he suggested the payment of a suitable sum by Banks in quittance of the whole business. Banks was by now anxious to be quit of it, and the essential <choice><orig>para-
							<pb xml:id="n96" n="59"/>
							graphs</orig><reg>paragraphs</reg></choice> of his letter ‘to Fothergill may be quoted, both as his justification and as a garland on the memory of Sydney:</p>
        <q>On leaving England, I agreed to give eighty pounds a year to <name type="person" key="name-131257">S. Parkinson</name>, besides his living of all kinds, as my draughtsman, to make drawings for me: of this agreement, £151. 8s. id is now due to his executors, besides some small sum for such cloths, &amp;c. of his, as I could dispose of, or make use of in the ship, which I chose rather to do, than bring them home liable to be damaged, as those which came home were in some degree.</q>
        <q>Curiosities of all kinds I gave up to them, and such of his papers as I had, excepting only some loose sheets of a journal, which seemed to be only foul copies of a fair journal that I never found, and which is now the chief object of their enquiry; these foul papers, as all the journal I had, was to be given to Mr. Lee, for his reading, by S. Parkinson's own desire, expressed to Dr. Solander just before he died: the curiosities I offered to purchase at the time I delivered them, at such price as the executors should put upon them, but was refused.</q>
        <q>Now as S. Parkinson certainly behaved to me, during the whole of his long voyage, uncommonly well, and with unbounded industry made for me a much larger number of drawings than I ever expected, I always did and still do intend to shew to his relations the same gratitude for his good services as I should have done to himself; the execution of this my intention was only delayed by the fear of being involved in a vexatious law-suit after all.</q>
        <q>Now you, sir, in conversation with Dr. Solander, have been so good as to suggest a mode of pleasing all parties, which I confess I very much approve of; the only thing that now remains is, that, as a friend to both, you think of a certain sum to be paid by me to them, as an acknowledgement of S, Parkinson's good services, taking or not the cuiosities, &amp;c. just as may seem to you most proper: in this, if you are good enough to undertake it, I beg leave to hint, that I do not at all mean to be sparing in my acknowledgment; but to err rather on the other side, that any one who may hear the transaction may rather say I have been generous than otherwise.<note xml:id="fn1-59" n="1"><p>Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Journal</hi>, ‘Explanatory Remarks’, pp. 4–5</p></note></q>
        <p>The worthy Fothergill therefore took into consideration the whole circumstances, and thought of £500. ‘J. Banks’, he says, ‘Very readily fell in with the proposal, and settled at the same time a pension upon a black woman, the wife of a faithful black servant who went out with him, and perished by the cold of Terra del Fuego’. The Parkinsons also agreed; Stanfield and Britannia met Banks (it was now the end of January 1772), and, with Fothergill as witness, signed a receipt.</p>
        <p>But the tedious business was not yet over. Fothergill had not
						<pb xml:id="n97" n="60"/>
						made himself entirely clear. Among the ‘Curiosities’ temporarily in Stanfield's possession the doctor had selected for himself a few shells. He had also made it a condition of the settlement that all these curiosities, including those he had selected, should be sent to Banks, for him to retain whatever was needed to complete the general collection made on the voyage. Banks, acting under a misunderstanding, retained all except those which Fothergill wanted. Fothergill paid Stanfield twice the amount he considered the market-price for these shells, warning the man that that was so, and that he must not look for such prices elsewhere. Again, it had been agreed in the general settlement that Banks should have all Sydney's manuscripts (the bundle that Stanfield had once seen) as well as the drawings that were admittedly Banks's own property. Stanfield wished to borrow the manuscripts to read; Banks hesitated, but on Fothergill's pledging himself that they would be put to no improper use, made the loan. Stanfield immediately had them copied; and then, smarting under the persuasion that Banks had cheated him of the value of the shells, determined to make a profit by publishing them. By the middle of 1772 he was certainly beginning to take leave of his senses; for it was then, hearing that Banks was proposing a journey to Iceland, that he advertised in the newspapers offering a reward of a hundred guineas for information as to where Sydney's journal and drawings, ‘pretended to have been lost’, were secreted; with the insolent note added, ‘It is supposed that they are not many Miles from New Burlington Street’. He certainly did not draw the advertisement himself. He did, it appears, manage to come by a few drawings from Sydne's shipmates — or he may have come by them during his transactions with Banks. He had too many friends; there was natural public eagerness to see anything in print about the great voyage; the booksellers were anxious to lay their hands on anything to get in ahead of the official narrative entrusted to Hawkesworth. Banks and Solander had already had to disclaim connection with one anonymous much-trumpeted account which had invoked their names,<note xml:id="fn1-60" n="1"><p>This was the <hi rend="i">Journal of a Voyage round the World</hi> published by T. Becket and P. A. de Hondt, London 1771; see Cook I, pp. cclvi ff; Holmes, <hi rend="i">Captain Cook: A Bibliographical Excursion</hi> (London 1952), pp. 20–1. Cf. a letter from Banks's naval friend Captain Bentinck of the <hi rend="i">Centaur</hi>, Spithead, 10 October 1771: ‘As to Mr Becket, and his Catch-penny, the subject is so interesting that there is no putting the book down, at the same time that the inaccuracy with which it is wrote makes it most tiresome and indeed the most provoking reading I ever met with’.—D.T.C. I, p. 27, There is further reference, not highly accurate, to the subject by Mrs Delany, writing to Mrs Port of IIam, 19 November 1771: ‘I believe I wrote you word that the book published of George's Land (or Otahitee) was not by Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander's direction, but they are preparing an account of their voyage; but the Natural History will be a work by itself, entirely at the expense of Mr. Banks, for which he has laid by ten thousand pound. He has already the drawings of everything (birds, beasts, plants, and views) that were remarkable; the work to be set in order, that is, the history written, by Mr. Hawkesworth, under the inspection of Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander; it will hardly come out in my time, as it will consist of at least fourteen volumes in folio. As this was <hi rend="i">private</hi> talk, perhaps it should not be mentioned in general’.—<hi rend="i">Autobiography and Correspondence of… Mrs Delany</hi> (2nd series, 1862), I, pp. 371–2.</p></note> and Banks, in his anxiety to maintain the proprieties,
						<pb xml:id="n98" n="61"/>
						had had to buy up and destroy the whole impression of a printed version of a private letter he had written to his friend the Comte de Lauraguais describing the voyage.<note xml:id="fn1-61" n="1"><p>Louis Léon Félicité Lauraguais, Comte de Lauraguais and later Due de Brancas (1733–1824), was interested in letters and science, a member of the <hi rend="i">Académic des Sciences</hi>, a liberal in politics and social life, a supporter of inoculation, and a wit whose life was said to combine <hi rend="i">‘bons mots et bonnes actions’.</hi> He had been prepared to print together Banks's letter to him and a letter of his own to D'Alembert enlarging on the subject. He argued that all the facts were already public property, and that he little deserved reproaches; but he had had some difficulties, ‘For the Printer (whom I do not know) is so eager to sell them that he does little care for correction’, as he naively told Banks in a letter headed Brompton 17th [February?] 1772.—D.T.C. I, p. 31.</p></note> It was easy for Stanfield to find a hack who would take the copies of the ‘foul papers’ and knock them into publishable shape. This was <name type="person" key="name-401894">James Kenrick</name>, a notorious Grub Street practitioner and literary libeller of the day. Fothergill got to hear what was afoot: he was horrified beyond measure — had he not pledged his honour to Banks that no improper use would be made of the papers? — and in vain tried to restrain the unhappy Stanfield, by argument, proffered indemnification, and the good offices of still a third Friend. What he could not do, Hawkesworth did for a period by applying to Chancery for an injunction, which was not taken off till after Hawkesworth's own volumes had appeared in 1773. The Quaker connection finding, when Stanfield's book was at last published, a serious attack on one member of the Society by another — for Kenrick had been only too pleased to add a skilfully composed preface traducing both Banks and Fothergill — was compelled to treat with Stanfield over his breach of discipline. ‘After much labour’, he was brought to acknowledge this; but while a written document was being drawn up, ‘such evident marks of insanity appeared, as to render it of no consequence to proceed with him any further’.<note xml:id="fn2-61" n="2"><p>Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Journal</hi>, ‘Explanatory Remarks’, p. 16.</p></note> By that time Banks had long freed his mind of the matter. It was not likely that an attack from Kenrick would do a man any harm in the polite world.<note xml:id="fn3-61" n="3"><p>Stanfield Parkinson's affairs, as well as his mind, were disordered; his wife died shortly before he became quite insane, and the Friends undertook the maintenance of his children. Fothergill, their friend as he had been their father's and grandfather's, bought up the unsold remainder of Sydney's <hi rend="i">Journal</hi>, about four hundred copies. This was reissued in 1784, with eighteen pages of ‘Explanatory Remarks’ by Fothergill on Kenrick's preface. The foregoing account is founded on these remarks and on what seems credible in the preface. No fair copy of Sydney's journal was ever found.</p></note> And there were other adventures to envisage.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n99" n="62"/>
        <p>We may at this point with some profit scrutinize the portraits of Banks. We may omit the early one, the charming boy with the long hair and the lace and the book of botanical pictures.<note xml:id="fn1-62" n="1"><p>The artist is unknown. The picture is reproduced in Cameron, pl.1.</p></note> Returning from such a voyage he must, quite obviously, have his portrait painted. He had it painted twice. Reynolds, naturally; but he found it worth his while also to patronise the rising star of British art, <name key="name-402271" type="person">Benjamin West</name>. Reynolds gave the gentleman an air; West, removing his attention from the death of <name key="name-170628" type="person">General Wolfe</name>, produced something at once more prosaic and more romantic. With Reynolds we have a three-quarter length, seated, with, of course, easy grace — a grace that, nevertheless, does not destroy the figure's lively energy; the right hand grips firmly the leather arm of a chair; the left, lightly clenched, rests equally firmly upon a sheaf of papers — can they be part of the Journal? — on a table otherwise adorned with an inkstand, a few books, and — equally of course — a terrestrial globe. Through a window behind the table one's eye is carried to an expanse of sea and sky. The young man's coat is lavish, fur-trimmed, the waistcoat is heavily embroidered, the neck-cloth is laced. It is a comely face, the oval rendered by drawing and shadow rather narrower at the chin, rather more stylish, than seems actually to have been so; a face to which the disposal of the hair across the forehead gives almost the conventional outline of a heart. The brow is wide, the eyes large, the eyebrows, the nose and the mouth very definite. The shadow beneath the lower lip suggests a certain size and mobility; there is the possibility of a quite charming smile. It is a face that, as one gazes into it, ceases to be entirely handsome; the chin, the nose, the eyebrows, accentuate themselves; authority is not yet carved on the brow, as in Phillips's picture of the President of the Royal Society in his last years, the Roman emperor upon the rostrum, but there is in that nose and that jaw the promise of heaviness; there is a latent obstinacy; there is even — revolt as we may from making the charge, for which the journal, too, read between the lines, once or twice proffers a basis — a hint of sulkiness.<note xml:id="fn2-62" n="2"><p>This is not, it may be said, a characteristic that has struck previous critics, who have been writing about Reynolds and not Banks. The portrait is certainly one of Reynolds's best, and has called forth great enthusiasm from the artist's [biographers. ‘Sir Joshua's portrait of Banks, painted at this time, is an excellent illustration of the importance of intelligent and intimate relations between painter and sitter. The painter has thoroughly understood his subject…. The burning eyes are focussed by the will that knits the brow, and gives their tension to the hands…. The energy of the man seems to be lifting him out of the seat by an irrepressible force. The globe at his side, the wide stretch of sea visible from the window, are significant of voyages past and to come. No painter could have so expressed the “hungry heart” of a man smitten with the passion of exploring and inquiring, unless he had felt a deep and intelligent sympathy with his sitter.’—<name type="person" key="name-141384">C. R. Leslie</name> and <name type="person" key="name-402049">Tom Taylor</name>, <hi rend="i">Life and Times of Sir Joshua Reynolds</hi> (London 1865), I, pp. 428–9. This seems to the present writer somewhat overdone.</p></note> Turn now to West: it is of course a staffer performance,
						<pb xml:id="n100" n="63"/>
						inelegant by the side of Sir Joshua, thoroughly conventional in spite of the exotic properties the subject has brought into it. He is standing as if his progress forward had been just arrested; behind him is the heroic classical column with drawn-back curtain which signifies perhaps Western civilization, perhaps merely something the artist did not know how to do without; the hands and the ruffles look as if they had been drawn not from Banks but from Vandyck. Round the shoulders and enveloping most of the body is a Maori cloak, undoubtedly a fine one, with dog's hair fringe; to his right lean upwards a Maori <hi rend="i">taiaha</hi>, or carved fighting-staff, a canoe paddle, and other ethnographical specimens; before him, on the other side, is a large Polynesian adze and some rather crumpled folio pages — this time not a journal but, one guesses, a section of a book for pressing plants. And the head? Though the hair, or wig, is severer than that of Sir Joshua's painting, the face has a softer curve; the large eyes, the distinct eyebrows, nose and mouth are there, but compared with Reynolds, they have lost in character; it is altogether a more feminine face — could this be, the sudden absurd fancy strikes one, <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name> dressed up? No, it is Joseph; a Joseph this time of rather ingratiating charm; it is not a stubborn face, but a face — again the half-hidden shade — that holds the possibility of petulance; and petulance, alas! is half-sister to sulkiness, it too may lead to obstinacy.</p>
        <p>The two portraits, so dissimilar, thus unite in giving us a Banks who is not quite all gallant adventurer, not quite all modesty, not quite necessarily all generous charm. We have presented, in fact, the wherewithal of a less admirable Banks, a Banks who in conceivable circumstances might be a very great fool. The difficulty with Miss Blosset may have been inevitable. The trouble with Stanfield Parkinson could very likely have been avoided, if Banks had acted sooner, and kept his temper even if he had to give away a little dignity; but once the trouble had come to a head he acted like a man of honour and reputation. In the matter that now arose he acted not like a man of honour but like a man of consequence, and of consequence that had gone to his brain. ‘Joseph Banks Esquire, a Gentleman possessed of considerable landed property in Lincolnshire’, had ceased to be a simple gentleman; Joseph Banks the student of natural history, who would have knelt before
						<pb xml:id="n101" n="64"/>
						the chair of Linnaeus as at a throne, had, almost, enthroned himself; Joseph Banks, whose three years’ voyaging should, one would have thought, have given him an enlarged appreciation of other men and of their rôle in the scheme of things, had lost all sense of proportion where he and other men were concerned. Joseph Banks — the conclusion is ineluctable — had a swelled head. It showed itself with disastrous amplitude during the preparations which began, towards the end of 1771, for another adventure into the unknown. We may return to Sir Joshua's picture. The sheaf of papers surmounted by our young man's energetic hand is surmounted by something else, calculated to convey the right ardency of enthusiasm: it is the Horatian tag, <hi rend="i">Cras ingens iterabimus aequor</hi> — ‘Tomorrow we set out once more upon the boundless main’. Mr Banks had no doubt of his destiny.</p>
        <p>Another adventure there certainly had to be. Cook, in a postscript to his journal, had laid down its essential lines; and doubtless it had been discussed on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, for Banks adumbrates its course in his own pages. The Admiralty, agreeing with Cook over its necessity, and properly appreciative of his merit, had no doubt who should conduct it. Sandwich asked Banks if he too would care to make a second voyage. It was to be a voyage far to the south. Banks did not hesitate: both he and Solander would go. ‘O how Glorious would it be to set my heel upon the Pole! and turn myself round 360 degrees in a second’, he wrote to his French friend Lauraguais.<note xml:id="fn1-64" n="1"><p>Banks to Lauraguais, December 1771. ML MSS.</p></note> Before August was out the newspapers had got hold of the rumour. Nobody could doubt from those newspapers that Mr Banks and Dr Solander had triumphantly conducted the previous voyage, and that Mr Banks was now the presiding genius of exploration; and for the next few months letters descended upon New Burlington Street as if it were a department of government. They were communications of all kinds, long and short, in English, French and even Latin, not merely from London and the English counties, but from France and Holland, Switzerland and Germany; they were learned and illiterate, models of calligraphy and almost illegible, graceful and awkward, enthusiastic, respectful, extravagant, argumentative, incoherent. They tendered congratulations on a safe return and proffered advice on assaying and mineralogy, on salting cabbage, painting flowers, preserving animals — Mr Hunter, the eminent surgeon, hoped the expedition might secure the essential parts of a whale — on chronometers, catharpings and triangular courses and harpoons; they asked for
						<pb xml:id="n102" n="65"/>
						the command of a ship or they recommended young persons of unimpeachable character on the recommendation of someone else. There was a memorandum about the Spanish visit to Easter Island, brought back by Mr Harris from his Embassy at Madrid. There were thoughts on geography, and highly speculative considerations on the prehistoric movements of the peoples of Ireland, Mexico, and Tahiti — even the Norse gods came into it; there were suggested subjects of enquiry: on the saltness of water, chemistry, mineral waters, the diet and diseases of native peoples — ‘What Burning Mountains are there in New Zealand…. What Shell-fish are <hi rend="i">characteristick of Particular</hi> Climates?’ What Globe or Map of the Earth did Mr Banks think best, and where was it to be got? Should not Mr Banks apply to the courts of Madrid and Lisbon, that instructions might be sent to their governors abroad to render the expedition all possible assistance? Should not every ship carry a small vessel which would take to pieces, strong enough to bear a sea in a good gale of wind? Dr Watson of Trinity College, who wanted a quart or two of sea water corked up for him in different latitudes, and a few short vocabularies, is ‘sorry to be so troublesome, but he hath a particular conjecture to be established or destroyed’. Dr Priestley would be pleased at any time to explain his method of sweetening water by fixed air. ‘Worthy Cosmopolites and My dear Freinds Mr Bancke and Dr Solander, exclaimed one gentleman with an indecipherable signature, and went on to describe at intolerable length the workings of his newly invented cooking-stove. ‘You will undoubtedly discover the great Southern continent, the existence of which I think admits of no dispute’, another gentleman assured them, dilating on how to find islands, and the advisability of leaving animals and birds to breed on islands when found.</p>
        <p>But the greater number of correspondents were those who — to put it briefly — wanted to go too. More at length, William Cawthorne suggests that the ‘national and general Advantage’ of the voyage would be more fully served ‘by including in your Suite a person appointed by the Board of Trade under the Character of <hi rend="sc">Commercial Intelligencer</hi>, whose province should be (leaving you to pursue your philosophical Disquisitions) to consider and digest the Errors and Deficiencies in the System of Commerce now subsisting between this Country and the various places and Nations you will necessarily visit…. To Gentlemen of your exalted understandings, the Wisdom and Utility of this appointment will instantly appear’ — an appointment for which, granting the remarkable
						<pb xml:id="n103" n="66"/>
						abilities required, Mr Gawthorne modestly offers himself. ‘A person of a liberal Education (a Surgeon by Profession)’ wants to travel for a few years. ‘I Understand the Theorical as well as the Practical Part of Most Mathematical Learning Particularly Navigation’, writes William Cooke, whose letter was neglected; and again, ‘I Longed for An Answer But Never had the Hapiness to Get one…. I have a Very Ernest Desire to Go Along with You in Your most Honourable Employment in Circulating the Teraquous Globe (if I may be Allowed the Express'on of A Geographer) I flatter my Self that you will not Doney My Imperause Desire….’ ‘I am a young Man of about 22; have had a liberal Education and, if I am not flattered by my Friends, have a tolerable Genius’: thus Thomas Davies, in the service of Lord Weymouth. Mr Davies kept accounts, could survey land, was remarkably fond of botany, and ‘P.S. Could I not supply the place of one of your Domestics? I care not how Servile the Station if I could be near you; tho’ I shall purchase it, at the Expence of a good Place’. A turkey and a chine followed, to compensate Mr Banks for the trouble caused him. Stephen Elgin, from the East Riding, fond of botany, now in London in a shop, is ‘a young person Who hath for a long time had the greatest Noetion of going Abrod’. <name type="person" key="name-401893">James Farquharson</name>, a watch and clock maker, is similarly situated. John Davidson, a house carpenter and joiner, ‘through Variegated and unforseen misfortunes Should now be glad to embrace the oppertunity of Satisfying (what I believe is an innate desire) of Seeing the Wonders of Nature and providence’. ‘In the utmost Anxiety of Hope I have presumed to address you, Sir’, says J. Fletcher, ‘I ask no Recompence but the Permission to serve you’ in ever so humble a capacity — ‘I would even assist in navigating the ship…. Even a recommendation to Capt. Cooke, if I cannot go with you, would be a Favour’. ‘Curiosity is natural to the Soul of Man’ announces Mr Hatherley of Bideford, though he asks Dr Solander and Mr Banks not to inform his connections in London of his ambition, as if it were unsuccessful it might affect his prospects in the law. John Hyacinth de Magalhaens — a serious scientific name at last — of distinguished historical connection and some skill with scientific instruments, wants, if possible, to ‘preform as much in the Service of England, as the brother of my fifth grandfather did in y<hi rend="sup">e</hi> Service of Spain’. Joseph Scothern and William Wortley, joint applicants, understand navigation, can play a large variety of musical instruments, and are prepared to learn themselves the French horn. Matthew Rouviere, an usher, ‘being informd by a Gentleman that you want several
						<pb xml:id="n104" n="67"/>
						Young Men skill<hi rend="sup">d</hi> in Arts and Sciences’, provides ten lines ot accomplishments, from languages to fortification. William Pearce can spell with justice and accuracy. John Frazier has great usefulness in going under water. One Prescott, who is ‘extreamly anxious of seeing more of the World, than has hitherto fallen to my lot’, adds with unusual reserve, ‘Perhaps it may be pertinent to remark, that I am no Seaman’. Signor Pilati is suspected by the Pope and clergy of having written certain books: he did write them; and as he understands and speaks Portuguese, and admires a grandeur of soul such as Mr Banks's, offers his services. Fathers write on behalf of sons, the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford on behalf of a young graduate who has ‘a very curious Turn’. Mr John Smith, an unsuccessful wholesale hosier of the Isle of Wight, understands Dr Solander to be the principal manager in an enterprise to settle the Falkland Islands; if Dr Solander will take Mr Smith, his wife, three small children, and sister, ‘in all probability you will save a sinking Family from ruin’. With a great excess of optimism Mr Smith informs Dr Solander that an immediate answer will be esteemed, and is under the consequent necessity of writing two further letters before he gives up. Dr Solander and Mr Banks have indeed a great responsibility upon them: for Edward Williams, a youth well brought up, of a liberal education, ‘if not soon protected by some kind hand, ruin must ensue, and even non existance follow….’</p>
        <p>It is curious that not merely do such persons ‘have the notion of going abroad’, and ‘pant’ to go with Banks, but even seamen in the royal navy apply to him as a patron. Edward Turrell of the <hi rend="i">Barfleur</hi>, on ‘January ye 8’ pens a cry from the heart:</p>
        <q>sir I shall be very Glad if your honnour Will be Pleasd to grant me this small Request and I hope your honnour will Exques me for making so bold as to wri[t]e to your Honnor but that I hear your honnour and mr sillander is a going out upon Descovers and shold be very glad of having the Pleasure of going with your honnour for I am on Board of the Barfleur. I was a going out In the Endeavour But was taken sick and was sent on shore to the hospitall But thank the almighty god I heave got the Better of my Eleness sir I shall Take it as great favour and shall be Bound to Pray for your honnour all the Days of my life so No More at Present from your humble servent to Command.</q>
        <p><name type="person" key="name-402235">William Packover</name> had been an A.B. on the <hi rend="i">Endeavour:</hi> ‘I ham now Emboldend to solicit Your Goodness to have me appointed Supernumery Midshipman in one of the Ships newly Commissioned for the South Seas’. Henry Walker, who had been in the <hi rend="i">Niger</hi>
						<pb xml:id="n105" n="68"/>
						on the Newfoundland voyage, is now a midshipman, and wants to sail with Banks as a junior lieutenant. Most curious of all perhaps, in some ways, is the long letter from <name type="person" key="name-401852">George Robertson</name>, who had been the master of the <hi rend="i">Dolphin</hi> under Wallis, on the voyage that discovered Tahiti; for Robertson was a man of ability, and must have known very well to whom the success of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> voyage was due.</p>
        <q>At present [he writes] I am on half pay, but Lord Sandwich has promised me the Comm<hi rend="sup">d</hi> of the first Cutter that becomes Vacent, but if you are going another Voyage on Descoverys as the publick peapers Informs us I should much rather take the Command of a small Vessel on that Expedition, as my Curiosity is not yet fully satisfied. If it be true that you are going on that Voyage, as I cannot rely on the publick peapers, I shall take it as a Singular favour if you will advise me in Course, that I may apply in time…. Were my Circumstances as good as they have been, I could willingly come and see you without any other errand, as I am certain your descoverys must have been very great, as I well know one of your Noble turn of mind would not stick at every trifleing Danger, where there was the least probability of making any kind of Descoverys, that could be of the least use to your King and Country, or to Mankind in General, you Appear to me to be a Gentleman born to Serve Mankind in General and this Nation in Particular, and I am tould kind providence has blest you with the means to cary on your Plan, I sincearly wish you Success in all your publick and privet undertakings, and may your Name be handed down in the Brittish Annals, with the greatest Honour, is the Earnest wishes of him who thinks near as you do, but wants the means….<note xml:id="fn1-68" n="1"><p>Possibly Banks, in due course, was able to do something for Robertson. A paragraph in a letter from Solander to Banks, three years later, runs, ‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Robertson (now Lieut<hi rend="sup">t</hi> of the Phoenix, formerly Master of the Dolphin under Wallis) desires his best Compl<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to You—He supposes You have spoke in his behalf to L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Sandwich, and is much obliged to You’.—22 August 1775; Webster coll.</p></note></q>
        <p>On that latest theme of the Brittish Annals, we may return to a civilian voice, the voice of Mr Sheffield, a natural historian who was soon to become keeper of the university museum at Oxford: ‘Yr first Voyage and Discoveries will transmit yr Fames to posterity, a second, attended with equal, and perhaps greater Success, will render you Immortal!’<note xml:id="fn2-68" n="2"><p>I make all these quotations from the correspondence in the volume of Banks's papers in ML, lettered ‘Voluntiers, Instructions, Provision for 2d. Voyage’.</p></note> Immortal? Linnaeus had used the word already.</p>
        <p>Banks thought all these letters, and more, worth keeping, though their writers, with uniform consistency, failed to attain the object of their desire. There was a single exception, that of the young Dutchman Sigismund BacStrom (‘Backstrom’ was good enough for Banks). He was a person of unexceptionably elevated sentiments,
						<pb xml:id="n106"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP004a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP004a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP004a-g"/><head>Mr. Joseph Banks<lb/>
								<hi rend="i">from the mezzotint after the portrait by Benjamin West</hi></head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n107"/>
						<pb xml:id="n108" n="69"/>
						he had already been rescued from some distress by his patron, ‘and as to returning to Holland’, he asserted, ‘where I have lived in a decent and respectable manner, in my present dejected State, the Very thought is worse than. Death’. He had no mercenary views; the allowance of a common seaman would be enough, with ‘the Consideration of the honour I Should acquire, if I should ever return after having been so extraordinary and curious a voyage, and in Company with so celebrated and respectable personages’; also he was expert in taking birds alive, and possessed of a curious process of preserving them, when dead, in the most lively and natural manner; and for one reason or another Banks agreed to engage him as a secretary. To quote at such length this romantic person, and other adulatory young men, would not be right except for one thing, that they surrounded Banks with an atmosphere; and when two or three experienced seamen, of whatever rank, began to seek his patronage, his common sense was tried too severely. He was not immune to incense; and this incense was very strong. At the same time he was extremely busy himself, and plunged in the most extensive preparations. A man of system, he kept all his bills, duly receipted,<note xml:id="fn1-69" n="1"><p>See again the MS volume ‘Voluntiers’.</p></note> and we have in them not only an extraordinary list of what Banks deemed necessary for his life on ship board and of what would be advantageous for trade or gifts in the South Sea, but also a vivid picture of ‘running around’. Leather bottles, screw-drivers, magnifying glasses and microscopes, gross upon gross of variegated beads, gross upon gross of combs, dog chains, fish-hooks and harpoons, drugs, pistols, guns and bayonets, ‘a Cross Bowe’, mirrors, wire catchers for insects and birds, drawing-tables, sealing wax, Windsor soap, casks of nails, rat traps, ‘a Round Tent, like a Bell Tent’, a silver hanger with a steel waistband, a copy of <hi rend="i">Tristram Shandy</hi>, a large quantity of black and red feathers, forty iron ‘Patapatoes for New Zealand in imitation of their stone weapons’, coloured silk handkerchiefs, ‘A travelling kist with drawers and petitions’, a large collection of sea charts, Dutch almanacs, artist's colours, ‘i Equatorial Instrument Complete’, a magic lantern, 2000 ‘platina’ or brass medals (with two of gold and 142 of silver), sextants, two French horns, ‘2 rods to try the Electricity of y<hi rend="sup">e</hi> foggs’, and (thoroughly baffling) ‘i Grean God’ — the list might go on indefinitely; and the barrels, the boxes, the casks, the kegs, the bundles, were a formidable quantity to go on any ship. There was no fancy, it seems, that did not take concrete form — even down to the barrels of dried hips and cherries, the
						<pb xml:id="n109" n="70"/>
						keg of juniper syrup, the bundle of salted cod and the half ton of stockfish specially procured from Copenhagen and Amsterdam at the request of Dr Solander. Banks, as he told Thomas Falconer, had a multiplicity of employments to occupy him during his short stay in his native country: ‘to collect together all the nescessaries for so long a voyage to enlist artists, to prepare myself &amp; answer the Calls of an acquaintance from my present circumstances swelld to a preposterous size is a large undertaking’; and there was the overseeing of the publication of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> voyage as well.<note xml:id="fn1-70" n="1"><p>Banks to Falconer, 7 January 1772, Hawley coll.</p></note> But there is no sign that he did not enjoy the bustle.</p>
        <p>Meanwhile the world of natural history was impatiently awaiting accurate information on the collections brought back by the <hi rend="i">Endeavour.</hi> The insects, it is true, had been handed over to the young Fabricius — still another pupil of Linnaeus — for description.<note xml:id="fn2-70" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-401901">Johann Christian Fabricius</name> (1745–1810), a Dane, whose <hi rend="i">Systema Entomologiae</hi> (Leipzig 1775) was a considerable advance on Linnaeus.</p></note> Fabricius had been delighted to help Banks and Solander get ready for the voyage, and now he was delighted to labour on part of their harvest. The insects were not a large part — two hundred and twelve from New Holland and those from elsewhere were not much to set beside the botanical glories:<note xml:id="fn3-70" n="3"><p>Johnson again: Boswell had brought up the subject of ‘Hawkesworth's Book’. <hi rend="i">‘Johnson.</hi> “Sir, if you talk of it as a subject of commerce, 'twill be gainful. If as a Book, that is to increase human knowledge, not much of that, Hawkesworth can tell only what Banks tells him, and he has not found much. But one Animal.” <hi rend="i">Boswell.</hi> “Many insects.” <hi rend="i">Johnson.</hi> “Ray reckons of british Insects 20,000 species. Banks might have staid at home and discovered enough in that way”.’—Boswell, <hi rend="i">Private Papers</hi>, 6, p. 133.</p></note> nevertheless they were something, and they were duly described in the <hi rend="i">Systema Entomologiae</hi> of 1775. That, for the Banksian collections, was quick work. But when was Banks going to publish his account? Was Solander at work on a catalogue? The news of an immediate second voyage was bound to cause consternation. Poor Linnaeus, longing in vain for a letter from Solander, was driven nearly frantic. ‘I have just read, in some foreign newspapers’. he wrote to Ellis in a remarkable letter of excitement and anxiety, ‘that our friend Solander intends to revisit those new countries, discovered by Mr. Banks and himself, in the ensuing spring. This report has affected me so much as almost entirely to deprive me of sleep. How vain are the hopes of man! Whilst the whole botanical world, like myself, has been looking for the most transcendent benefits to our science, from the unrivalled exertions of your countrymen, all their matchless and astonishing collection, such as has never been seen before, nor may ever be seen again, is to be put aside untouched, to be
						<pb xml:id="n110" n="71"/>
						thrust into some corner, to become perhaps the prey of insects and of destruction… By all that is great and good, I entreat you, who know so well the value of science, to do all that in you lies for the publication of these new acquisitions, that the learned world may not be deprived of them…. Do but consider, my friend, if these treasures are kept back, what may happen to them. They may be devoured by vermin of all kinds. The house where they are lodged may be burnt. Those destined to describe them may die…. I therefore once more beg, nay I earnestly beseech you, to urge the publication of these new discoveries. I confess it to be my most ardent wish to see this done before I die’.<note xml:id="fn1-71" n="1"><p>Linnaeus to Ellis, 22 October 1771; J.E.S. I, pp. 267–70</p></note>. The botanical account was all ready, wrote Ellis in return: he would do what he could to urge its printing. ‘I assure you it greatly distresses me to think of losing Solander for ever, for I cannot expect to see him more, should he return; but I fear he never will return alive’.<note xml:id="fn2-71" n="2"><p>Ellis to Linnaeus, 19 November 1771; ibid., p. 272.</p></note> These were sombre reflections; but, though vermin did not devour, nor Solander sink beneath Antarctic seas, neither of these worried correspondents was ever to turn over the longed-for pages. The reason, however, was not the immediate departure of Solander with Banks on a southern voyage.</p>
        <p>Before the end of 1771 the Admiralty had bought two further ships into the navy for the new expedition, both Whitby-built like the <hi rend="i"><name key="name-400074" type="ship">Endeavour</name></hi>, and of the same type. Cook chose them himself, and the larger of them, the <hi rend="i"><name key="name-400930" type="ship">Resolution</name></hi>, was to prove perhaps the most wonderful vessel ever engaged on an exploratory purpose. There was the usual official reticence, to which Banks paid a little tribute in a letter to Falconer:</p>
        <q>The A[d]miralty have thought fit to be Mysterious about us so that I myself cannot Positively say where we are going and when I tell you that it is my opinion we are for the South Seas I must beg the favour of you not to mention it again for those parts however we are pretty certainly design'd and if we proceed to make discoveries on the Terra Australia Incognita I shall probably have a finer opportunity for the Excercise of my Poor Abilities than ever man before had as there seems to be a strong Probability from the Scarce Intelligible accounts of Travelers That almost every Production of Nature is here very different from what we see at this end of the Globe.<note xml:id="fn3-71" n="3"><p>Undated, probably late January 1772. This was all the more ridiculous as Banks had already told Falconer the plan of the voyage in his letter of 7 January 1772 quoted above, and even asked him for ‘hints relative to Observations which you might wish me to make’. Falconer's letter of 4 February 1772, ‘Voluntiers’, seems to be in answer to both these letters. On the destination of the voyage, of. <name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name>'s letter to Pennant of late August or early September 1771, ‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Tunstall writes me word’ etc., p. 56 above.</p></note></q>
        <pb xml:id="n111" n="72"/>
        <p>This was concealment so obvious that it was never noticed, and the fitting out of the ships was carried briskly and lavishly forward. On 2 May Banks gave an entertainment on board the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi> to Sandwich, the French Ambassador, and ‘several other persons of distinction’. Sandwich came more than once to inspect the work, ‘not’, as Cook wrote, ‘out of Idle curiosity as many of all ranks did, Ladies as well as gentlemen, for scarce a day past on which she was not crowded with strangers who came on board for no other purpose but to see the Ship in which M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks was to sail round the world’.<note xml:id="fn1-72" n="1"><p>B.M. Add. MS 27888, f. 4,4v.</p></note> Banks's scientific plans widened in scope: he asked Dr Priestley to go with him, apparently as an astronomer, and on the appointment of the Board of Longitude. He had to draw back, for Priestley, still a Unitarian minister at Leeds, was obviously unsound on matters of faith.<note xml:id="fn2-72" n="2"><p>Priestley's letter to Banks will bear quoting: ‘You now tell me that, as the different professors of Oxford and Cambridge will have the naming of the person, and they are all clergymen, they may possibly have some scruples on the head of religion, and that on this account, you do not think you could get me nominated at any rate, much less on the terms which were first mentioned to me. Now what I am, and what they are, with respect to religion, might easily have been known before the thing was proposed to me at all. Besides, I thought that this had been a business of <hi rend="i">Philosophy</hi>, not of <hi rend="i">Divinity.</hi> If, however, this be the case, I shall hold the board of longitude in extreme contempt, and make no scruple of speaking of them accordingly; taking it for granted, that you have just ground for your suspicions’.—1 December 1771, ‘Voluntiers’, pp. 597–8. See also Priestley's <hi rend="i">Memoirs</hi> (Birmingham 1810), p. 50, where he remarks, ‘I was much better employed at home, even with respect to my philosophical pursuits.’ The professors were no doubt the professors of astronomy and geometry at Oxford, and astronomy and mathematics at Cambridge, all <hi rend="i">ex officio</hi> members of the Board. But they did not by themselves have the nomination. See Cook II, Appendix III, pp. 719 ff. Banks in any case was taking too much on himself.</p></note> The Board, however, appointed two astronomers, <name type="person" key="name-134492">William Wales</name> and <name type="person" key="name-150155">William Bayly</name>. And then Parliament agreed, on Banks's nomination, to make a special grant of £4000 to engage <name type="person" key="name-150150">Dr James Lind</name>, of Edinburgh, another astronomer and physician, to go — ‘but what the discoveries were the Parliament meant he was to make and for which they made so liberal a Vote will hardly ever come to the knowlidge of the publick much less to me as an individual’, remarked Cook later.<note xml:id="fn3-72" n="3"><p>B.M. Add. MS 27888, f. 3. Lind was elsewhere highly thought of, however. Hume wrote to <name type="person" key="name-017144">Benjamin Franklin</name>, on 17 March 1771, ‘Brother Lin expects to see you soon, before he takes his little Trip round the World. You have heard, no doubt, of that Project: The Circumstances of the Affair coud not be more honourable for him, nor coud the Honour be conferred on one who deserves it more’.—<name type="person" key="name-402004">Raymond Klibansky</name> and <name type="person" key="name-401820">Ernest C. Mossner</name>, <hi rend="i">New Letters of David Hume</hi> (Oxford 1954), pp. 193–4. <name type="person" key="name-150150">James Lind</name> (1736–1812), a Scotsman, visited China as surgeon on an East Indiaman in 1766. M.D. Edinburgh 1768, In 1769 he observed the transit of Venus at Hawkhill near Edinburgh; by this and other observations he made some reputation as an astronomer, though it is difficult to see why Banks should have so particularly thought him worth £4000. In 1777 he was elected F.R.S. and settled at Windsor as physician to the royal household. His sweet ness of disposition was well known, and in his last years he befriended the young Shelley.</p></note> Banks and Solander were overjoyed at this scientific
						<pb xml:id="n112" n="73"/>
						acquisition, and they do not seem to have wasted tears over the dissenter Priestley. But their trial was about to come. By May 1772 Banks had worked up a train of fourteen persons besides Solander, beginning with the painter <name key="name-402307" type="person">Zoffany</name>, whom he had engaged at £1000 for the voyage. What this master of the theatrical and domestic conversation piece would have made of icebergs and Tahitians it is hard to say. There were also three draughtsmen, two secretaries, six servants (including the seasoned <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name> and <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>) and two horn-players. Twelve of these, with Banks and Solander, and no doubt the desirable Dr Lind, were to sail in the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>; two, a draughtsman and the ardent Bacstrom, in the other ship, the <hi rend="i"><name key="name-401050" type="ship">Adventure</name>.</hi><note xml:id="fn1-73" n="1"><p>A note in Banks's hand in ‘Voluntiers’, p. 431, specifies the names and wages of these persons: <hi rend="i">‘Resolution:</hi> Zoffany, J. F. Miller and James Miller (draughtsmen) £100 a year each; Walden (secretary) £100; <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name> (servant) £40; <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>, <name type="person" key="name-401908">John Asquith</name>, Peter Sidserf, Nicholas Young (servants) £20: Sander (servant) £10; John Marchant and Robert Holbrooke (horns) £40. <hi rend="i">Adventure:</hi> <name type="person" key="name-401915">John Clevely</name> (draughts man) £100, S. Backstrom (secretary) £100. Sander was the man whom Banks engaged at Batavia.</p></note> The precise details of what happened may even yet not have been ascertained, because no doubt they included much discussion and many impatient words that did not go on to paper. But we have enough. The main events are quite clear, and we can now understand the psychological background. When Banks first saw the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, on her purchase, he did not approve of her. He did not regard her as roomy enough, because he had already determined to take more people with him than he had taken in the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> (whether he had by then determined to take a private band we do not know). Sandwich was First Lord, and the Admiralty was prepared to make alterations, even if in doing so it had to override the opinion of the Navy Board and Captain Palliser, the Comptroller. These alterations entailed raising the ship's upper works about a foot and laying a new deck from the quarter-deck to the forecastle, and — as Cook was to be turned out of the great cabin to leave it for Banks — building a ‘round house’ for the captain on top. Banks did not like the alterations. Nor did Cook;<note xml:id="fn2-73" n="2"><p>Though he seems to have been hopeful at first. Cf. Sandwich, II, p. 350 below: ‘Captain Cooke (who had so high an idea of the ship that he thought she could bear all this super structure) gave it as his opinion that it would not be too much…’.</p></note> for they made the ship top-heavy, to which the staggering amount of baggage in ‘the Gentlemen's apartments’ also contributed. Early in May she was ordered from Long Reach, where she had taken in her guns, round to the Downs, and it was apparent she would not do. At the Nore she was reported dangerously ‘crank’, or liable to capsize; and beyond the Nore the pilot refused to take her lest he should ruin his professional
						<pb xml:id="n113" n="74"/>
						reputation. The high-spirited <name type="person" key="name-134285">Charles Clerke</name>, who was on board as second lieutenant, thereupon wrote to Banks: ‘Hope you know me too well, to impute my giving this intelligence to any ridiculous apprehensions for myself, by God I'll go to Sea in a Grog Tub if desir'd, or in the Resolution as soon as you please; but must say, I do think her by far the most unsafe Ship, I ever saw or heard of: however if you think proper to embark for the South Pole in a Ship, which a Pilot, (who I think is, by no means a timorous man) will not undertake to carry down the River; all I can say, is, you shall be most chearfully attended, so long as we can keep her above Water, by’ Charles Clerke.<note xml:id="fn1-74" n="1"><p>15 May 1772, ML Banks Papers, II (1), 28.</p></note> Cook, who would not go to sea in a grog-tub, gave it as his opinion that the ship must be returned to her original state; the Navy Board agreed; the work was put immediately in hand, and Banks was offered all possible accommodation. So — he sprang furiously to the conclusion —he had been the victim of a plot; the Navy Board had never wanted him; the alterations had been deliberately made so heavy as to render the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi> unsafe, so that they would have to be undone, and the work of himself and his party would be impossible. He would not tolerate such conditions, they were quite beyond bearing; his rage burst all bounds;<note xml:id="fn2-74" n="2"><p>‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks came to Sheerness and when he saw the Ship, He <hi rend="i">swore &amp;. stamp'd</hi> upon the <hi rend="i">Warfe</hi>, like a Mad Man.’—<name type="person" key="name-170610">John Elliott</name>, a midshipman in the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, who later wrote his memoirs.—B.M. Add. MS 42714, f.iov. Probably Elliott gave the ship's opinion generally, when he wrote, ‘a more proud, haught[y] man could not be, and all his plans seem'd directed to show his own greatness’.—ibid., f.ii.</p></note> he would not go on the voyage at all; and he ordered everybody and everything of his off the ship. He was the second gentleman to retire from a great voyage in a bad temper. Did he ever think of Dalrymple?</p>
        <p>He drafted long memoranda to Sandwich, hitherto his close friend. One, dated 30 May, he unfortunately sent. It is a very revealing document; and it is — to use an adjective quite inescapable — a very foolish document. To present the First Lord with a lecture on naval construction was bad enough; to provide such witness to his own unbounded conceit was unwise in the extreme. For the Admiralty was still strongly under the impression that the expedition it was fitting out was an expedition of geographical discovery, and that the commander it had appointed was Cook. There is the melancholy duty of quoting Banks. He had made pledges, he said, to Sandwich and to all Europe: ‘The navy Board was in consequence order'd to purchase two ships and to fit them up in a proper manner for our reception that we might be enabled
						<pb xml:id="n114" n="75"/>
						to exert our utmost endeavours to serve the publick wheresoever the course of our discoveries might induce us to proceed. … we have pledgd ourselves my lord to your Lordship &amp; this nation to undertake what no navigator before us has even suggested to be practicable; … Shall I then my lord who have engagd to leave all that can make life agreable in my own country &amp; throw on one side all the Pleasures to be reapd from three of the best years of my life<note xml:id="fn1-75" n="1"><p>In an earlier paragraph he has remarked that when Sandwich first asked him to go, ‘I Joyfully embracd a proposal of all others the best suited to my disposition and pursuits’.</p></note> merely to compass this undertaking pregnant enough with dangers and difficulties in its own nature after having been promisd every security and convenience that the art of man could contrive without which promise no man in my situation would ever [have] undertaken the voyage be sent off at last in a doubtfull ship with accommodations rather worse than those which I at first absolutely refusd after spending above £5000 of my own fortune on the equipment upon the credit of those accommodations which I saw actually built for me.<note xml:id="fn2-75" n="2"><p>This £5000’ has been repeated a good deal, and J. H. Maiden, in his <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks</hi> (Sydney 1909), p. 45, actually says he has seen ‘receipts for money paid by Banks, amounting to over £5000, for scientific stores and appliances, presents for the natives, and so forth, for this voyage. These documents are now in the Mitchell Library’. Now the only documents of this sort in the Mitchell Library are in the ‘Voluntiers’ volume already referred to. A careful addition of all the sums receipted in this volume comes to a great deal less than £5000. Some of them have nothing to do with the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi> expenses at all—for example, the costs of chartering the ship for Banks's Iceland voyage are included, and a payment of £89 8s 6d to Stanfield Parkinson for miscellaneous work at New Burlington Street: ‘To Makin a sett of Gurtians of blew Check for the Garret bed Head a Sett of Lathes with hooks and spicks and putin up’, £3 3s; ‘Menden two Mohogney french Chairs’, 3s 6d, and so on; there is ‘Od Jobes in the House &amp; Door Way in the Londerrey’, £5 3s 7d, with other similar items. Whether ‘a Globular Silver Punch Bowl’, £24 18s, was for use on die ship or at home we need not enquire; but ‘an Enamelled Gold Watch’, 35 guineas, does not seem to have any necessary nautical significance. Nor does the item ‘To lighting the Lamp from 25 March 1772 to i<hi rend="sup">st</hi> June 1772’, 7s 4d. But ‘A Poket Time Keeper’, £100, bought like the gold watch of <name type="person" key="name-123085">John Arnold</name>, may possibly have been a chronometer, and so of considerable scientific interest. Banks seems to have collected all his bills for a certain period and bound them up together with his second voyage ‘in-letters’. After throwing out a small number of obvious interlopers among these bills, though leaving others it would have been tedious to extract, I have made the total spent £2317 4s 6½d. Of course as a round sum this is not as good as £5000. No doubt there were other expenses not noted in these papers.— I owe Banks an apology for giving his estimate in Cook I, p. cxxxvii as £10000. We do not know his income at this time, but Weld, <hi rend="i">History of the Royal Society</hi>, II, p. 116, gives it later as above £30,000 a year, so he was in no danger of reducing himself to beggary in the cause of science.</p></note> will the publick be so ungenerous as to expect me to go out in a ship in which my people have not the room necessary for performing the different duties of their professions, a ship apparently unhealthy and probably unsafe merely in conformity to the official opinion of the navy board who purchasd her without ever consulting me and now in no degree consider the part which I have taken in the voyage
						<pb xml:id="n115" n="76"/>
						or the alterations which on my remonstrance they concured with me in thinking necessary but have now taken away or should I embark could anything material be done by people under circumstances so highly discouraging….’ Other considerations followed; and then came what, with its side-blow at Cook, after all that experience of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, was possibly the least generous remark Banks uttered in his life. Give him the ship he wanted, he said, and he would gladly embark; for he well knew ‘that there are many commanders in his majesties service of undoubted abilities and experience who would willingly undertake to proceed with her on the intended expedition ambitious of shewing the world that the success of such an undertaking depends more upon the Prudence and Perseverance of the Commander than upon any particular built of the ship that may be employd’.<note xml:id="fn1-76" n="1"><p>There are a number of copies of this letter: in the ‘Voluntiers’ volume; in S.S.B.'s copy of the Iceland journal; among Sandwich's papers at Hinchingbrooke (endorsed No. 93); among George III's papers at Windsor Georgian Papers, No. 1322. It was first printed by Fortescue, <hi rend="i">Correspondence of King George the Third</hi>, II (1927), pp. 343–7. I have used the autograph draft of the ‘Voluntiers’ volume.</p></note></p>
        <p>To all this the Navy Board — when Sandwich, according to what Banks called scornfully ‘Forms of office’, referred it for comment — made the obvious, the simple, the crushing reply; after which it was hard for Mr Banks to rise again. ‘As to the proper kind of Ship and her fitness and sufficiency for the Voyage, his opinion was never asked nor could have been asked with propriety, he being in no degree qualified to form a right Judgement in such a matter; and for the same reason his opinion now thereon is not to be attended to…. Mr Banks seems throughout to consider the Ships as fitted out wholly for his use; the whole undertaking to depend on him and his People; and himself as the Director and Conductor of the whole….’ Even now matters had been so contrived as to take away from him only six feet of the length of the great cabin (presumably to give Cook somewhere to sleep), and from his attendants only one small cabin. For a man who had begun by saying nothing but that the fore part of the cabin was an inch or two too low, and then had kept on adding to his ‘suite’ and his demands in complete disregard of the ship, the Board thought it had not done badly.<note xml:id="fn2-76" n="2"><p>3 June 1772; Sandwich papers, Hinchingbrooke (endorsed No. 95); Georgian Papers, Windsor, No. 1323*; Fortescue II, pp. 350–2.</p></note> It did not suggest, what in retrospect one might tentatively suggest, that Mr Banks could have cut down his suite a little to fit the ship. Indeed such a suggestion, at that stage, would have been quite useless. It would have been worse than useless; it would have been the last insult. The last
						<pb xml:id="n116" n="77"/>
						insult? No; because Mr Banks could have been insulted by a little more of the truth, and that little more might have come from a source of veracity quite unimpeachable. Lord Sandwich was by this time a much tried, a much irritated man, and he had for his friend a rod in pickle, a blast in reserve. He had already written Banks a letter which implies that before receiving the young man's lucubration he had seen it in draft, and had listened to the threat that it might be published; and he now gave some advice:</p>
        <q>I am sorry that the alteration you proposed to make in the said letter has not taken place, as it will probably make it necessary that some answer should be given if your letter is made public; for it is a heavy charge against this Board to suppose that they mean to send a number of men to sea in an unhealthy ship. In this point, and in most of the reasoning of the above-mentioned letter, I differ greatly with you in opinion, and shall therefore be sorry if anything is printed on either side; but I am sure if you will give yourself time to think coolly, you will at once see the impropriety of publishing to the world an opinion of your own, that one of the King's ships is unfit for a voyage she is going to be employed in, and that her crew will be in danger of losing their lives if they go to sea in her… I am positive…. we shall be able to bring the fullest proof to the contrary; that paragraph being in your letter should in my humble opinion induce you not to print it.<note xml:id="fn1-77" n="1"><p>Sandwich to Banks, 2 June 1772; Sandwich Papers, Hinchingbrooke. This is a modern copy of the letter.</p></note></q>
        <p>But the possibility had to be met; and if we examine the papers at Hinchingbrooke, we find the rod in pickle, the highly destructive countermine. We find also a revealing backward light. The Forms of Office had brought Sandwich the Navy Board's comments upon Banks's letter, and from Palliser himself a very moderately phrased paper entitled ‘Thoughts upon the Kind of Ships proper to be employed on Discoveries in distant Parts of the Globe’;<note xml:id="fn2-77" n="2"><p>Sandwich Papers, Hinchingbrooke; n.d.; endorsed No. 98.</p></note> and he had his own knowledge of what had passed. There was one Great Person who was deeply interested in the whole matter. On 20 June Sandwich sent to the king ‘a sketch of a letter in answer to that written to him by M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks, which may possibly be proper to be printed in case the other is made publick. Your Majesty will observe that it is under a fictitious name, which for many reasons is most adviseable’.<note xml:id="fn3-77" n="3"><p>Georgian Papers, Windsor, No. 1342; Fortescue II, p. 361. There is no doubt of the king's deep interest in the voyages, though the lavishness of Hawkesworth's dedication of his volumes brought some public criticism: “it exceeds the licence of dedicatory compliment’, held the <hi rend="i">Annual Register</hi> for 1773 in its review of the volumes after the writer's death, pp. 266–73. Hawkesworth's principle seems to have been that if you are using butter, you may as well use plenty of it.</p></note> It is this ‘sketch’ or draft, though
						<pb xml:id="n117" n="78"/>
						without the ‘fictitious name’, that has lain unscrutinized at Hinching-brooke;<note xml:id="fn1-78" n="1"><p>It is in Sandwich's handwriting, undated, and is endorsed No. 94.</p></note> for Banks did not prints and the rejoinder was deemed uncalled for.</p>
        <p>‘As it is very possible that his Lordship may not have leisure or inclination to enter into a paper war upon this occasion’, remarked Sandwich at the beginning of his twenty folio pages, and as his fictitious other self had ‘had opportunities of knowing allmost every circumstance that passed relative to the equipment of the Resolution Sloop of War, on board of which you was to have been recieved as a passenger’, he would deal with the charges made. Banks had never complained about want of room on the <hi rend="i">Endeavour.</hi> When the time came to select a new ship, it was ‘agreed on all hands, that the opinion of the very great and able Sea officer who lately presided at the admiralty<note xml:id="fn2-78" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-400658">Sir Edward Hawke</name> (Lord Hawke 1776).</p></note> was well founded; namely that the only ship that was fit for a voyage of this kind was a vessel built for the coal trade. … in this arrangement you readily acquiesced professing yourself not a competent judge what ship was the fittest for the service, tho’ you intimated an opinion of your own that a West Indiaman would be more proper….’ The idea was, not to enlarge the ship to the quantity of Banks's attendants, but to adapt their number to the size of the ship. Cook had been directed to go all over the Pool of London, and choose the ships he wanted; the ships he wanted were bought. Banks looked at the one that was to become the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, and now showed discontent: ‘she was not fit for a gentleman to embark in’; if considerable alterations were not made ‘you would not proceed upon the voyage’. (Alas! Banks had begun to make his threat too soon, and he made it too often.) There was a clash of opinion. Cook thought the ship would bear the alterations — a bad misjudgment, though Sandwich did not say this; the Navy Board and the shipwrights did not, and Sandwich overruled them; and then ‘several other demands were made by you in which the constant burthen of your song was, that their being complied with or not, should be the decision whither you should or should not proceed on the voyage’. These demands about the ship had been followed by demands about the conduct of the voyage, which if complied with would have been tantamount to ‘giving you the absolute command of the expedition’: Cook was to be ordered to follow Banks's directions; the officers were to be ordered to look to Banks for promotion. Banks had worried about the health of the crew: which showed his humanity
						<pb xml:id="n118" n="79"/>
						but not his experience. And what about the officers? ‘I percieve that your attention extends only to the common seamen, for when conveniences were made for all your suite the officers were stowed as close as herrings in a barrel, and yet you never took their distress into your humane consideration’. Point by point the unfortunate arguments are reduced to nullity (Sandwich made skilful use of the papers supplied to him); the proper tribute is paid to learning, public spirit, and refusal to baulk at expense; Banks had been received with open arms by the Admiralty, it was not their fault that he was not now embarked; but — the controversialist could not refrain from expressing the ‘distant idea’ — did he really want to go on the voyage? Had he not already begun to tire of it? There was a final amiable piece of advice: ‘Upon the whole I hope that for the advantage of the curious part of Mankind, your zeal for distant voyages will not yet cease, I heartily wish you success in all your undertakings, but I would advise you in order to insure that success to fit out a ship yourself; that and only that can give you the absolute command of the whole expedition; and as I have a sincere regard for your welfare and consequently for your preservation, I earnestly entreat that that ship may not be an old Man of War or an old Indiaman but a New Collier’.</p>
        <p>There is no reason to doubt the underlying goodwill of this last broadside. Whatever Banks's aberrations, and however exasperating he might be, Sandwich, and others, still had a sincere regard for his welfare and his preservation. In the cause of human friendship, we may be glad there was no public paper war; Banks knew Sandwich well enough not to be deceived about his castigator, and the breach between the two, which could not but be inevitable, might have been deep and lasting. In the meanwhile there was nothing useful to be done to mend a breach. A brief passage in Parliament was met by the usual ministerial silence;<note xml:id="fn1-79" n="1"><p>There was evidently a little campaign. The <hi rend="i">General Evening Post</hi>, 4 June 1772, reports, ‘Yesterday M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> D-mpst-r moved for an inquiry into the motives for laying aside the prosecution of our discoveries towards the South Pole. The speakers referred him to the Treasury Bench, but Lord N—th and all his colleagues were as still as night, and there the affair dropped.’ The paper recurred to the subject on 6 June.</p></note> behind the scenes Lord North, who had had some idea that Banks might change his mind again, was persuaded to the contrary by Sandwich;<note xml:id="fn2-79" n="2"><p>Sandwich to North, 8 June 1772; Sandwich Papers, Hinchingbrooke.</p></note> and Banks himself wrote to Burke on the inutility of further parliamentary action.<note xml:id="fn3-79" n="3"><p>‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks presents his Comp<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Burke &amp; heartily thanks him for the Interest he has been so kind as to take in his business throughout the whole prosecution of it. Several of M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks's freinds met this morn at the Speakers where on finding that the present Equipment had proceeded too far to be either alterd or stoppd they resolvd to put off meeting on tuesday &amp; hope that some other expedition might be set on foot which they conceived great hopes might be effected in a much more agreable way than this ever was in. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks returns a thousand thanks for M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Burkes Caveat which he understands has in Conjunction with the Speak[e]r stoppd totaly what M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks so much dreaded that he should be lookd upon as usefull to the voyage only in catching butterflies &amp; the publick be contented if that matter was done by any one else whether well or ill.’—This undated note is among the Wentworth Woodhouse papers in the Sheffield Public Library, Bk 2/219, and I am grateful to Earl Fitzwilliam and the Trustees of the Fitzwilliam Settled Estates for allowing me to print it.</p></note> Mr Banks would not go on the
						<pb xml:id="n119" n="80"/>
						voyage; Dr Lind therefore would not go; and when the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi> sailed from Plymouth on 13 July it carried not the fifteen scientific gentlemen, artists, and servants, collected by Banks, but simply one astronomer — and the disastrous <name type="person" key="name-124833">John Reinhold Forster</name> and his son, to whom Dr Lind's £4000 had been diverted.</p>
        <p>So far was Banks from any suspicion that his suite might be too large, that there is evidence that he contemplated enlarging it still further. When Cook got to Madeira he met with an odd story, which is reported by more than one member of his company. His own account has come to rest among the papers of George III, though it could hardly have been addressed to that august personage.<note xml:id="fn1-80" n="1"><p>Cook to—, 1 August 1772; Windsor Castle, Georgian Papers, No. 1359. The letter, which is a copy, simply begins ‘Sir’, and does not have the addressee's name subscribed. It was very probably sent to <name type="person" key="name-134356">Philip Stephens</name>, the Secretary to the Admiralty. Fortescue prints it, II, pp. 372–3.</p></note> He speaks well of the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, and goes on, ‘Three days before we arrived a person left the Island who went by the name of Burnett he had been waiting for M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks arrival about three months, at first he said he came here for the recovery of his health, but afterwards said his intention was to go out with M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks, to some he said he was unknown to this Gentleman, to others he said it was by his appointment he came here as he could not be receiv'd on board in England, at last when he heard that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks did not go, he took the very first opportunity to get of the Island, he was about 30 Years of age and rather ordinary than otherwise and employ'd his time in Botanizing &amp;c<hi rend="sup">a</hi> — Every part of M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Burnetts behaviour and every action tended to prove that he was a Woman, I have not met with a person that entertains a doubt of a contrary nature, he brought letters of recommendation to an English House where he was accomodated during his stay, It must be observed that M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Burnett must have left London about the time we were first ready to sail’. Now there is nothing inherently improbable about this story, fantastic as it may appear. We have seen that Banks was susceptible to women, and not entirely master of his mind where they were concerned. Had he taken a hint from the tale of that other naturalist, Commerson, and his valet, who on Bougainville's voyage so remarkably concealed her sex till
						<pb xml:id="n120" n="81"/>
						the keen-witted Tahitians discovered her to be not Jean but Jeanne? He might have had difficulty in getting her on the ship at Madeira under Cook's sharp eye; but the chance, he might have thought, was worth taking. The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> had carried hands beyond those on the muster-roll, so why not the <hi rend="i">Resolution?</hi> ‘The time we were first ready to sail’ was the time immediately before it was found the ship could not sail. Mrs, or Miss, Burnett, a victim of circumstance, left London just too soon. Even if the scheme broke down, nothing much would have been lost; the lady, obviously, was used to looking after herself. It did break down, though for a more remote cause; and the lady did look after herself.</p>
        <p>To moralize further on any part of the whole unhappy matter is hardly necessary. There was a little coolness between Banks and Cook, whose sentiments on the ship were perfectly well known, but no real estrangement; and Cook wrote from Sheerness, immediately after the break, ‘I Pray my best respects to the D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> &amp; sence I am not to have your Company in the Resolution I most sin[c]erely wish you success in all your exploring undertakens’.<note xml:id="fn1-81" n="1"><p>2 June 1772, ML MS.</p></note> He wrote again, with equal generosity, from the Cape. Banks let Clerke have a ‘Cagg of Nails’ for trade: ‘…. flatter myself’, said Clerke, ‘with the hopes of making an addition to the Burlington Street collection…. Must again express my unhappiness that I cannot have the pleasure of attending you…. the Gentlemen of the Gunroom intreat your acceptance of their respects and Compliments’.<note xml:id="fn2-81" n="2"><p>ML Banks Papers, II, f. 3.</p></note> Here was nothing but friendship. There was estrangement, though temporarily, from Sandwich. The Navy Board, and <name key="name-134359" type="person">Palliser</name>, Banks never forgave. The public prints had a due amount of speculation and scandal — the Court of Spain was again freely blamed<note xml:id="fn3-81" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">General Evening Post</hi>, 27 June 1772.</p></note> — and Banks himself, who maintained a proper public dignity, drafted a long letter of attack, and self-justification, to the <hi rend="i">Gazetteer</hi>, signed with the pseudonym ‘Antarcticus’. Luckily he thought better of sending it in. He still, he announced, in this abortive effusion, ‘keeps his companions together at a large expence, and labours earnestly to prevail upon the publick to put it in his power to make the same voyage as he has been disapointed of; declaring to all his freinds that when disapointed of every hope from the publick, he will undertake at his own expence, such a voyage as his <choice><orig>circum-
							<pb xml:id="n121" n="82"/>
							stances</orig><reg>circumstances</reg></choice> will allow him to bear the charge of; tho he is conscious, that without publick assistance he can do little; yet will he exert himself to the utmost, not at all doubting that if he meets with success, the publick [will] on his return be inclind to indulge him in the execution of his favourite plan’.<note xml:id="fn1-82" n="1"><p>‘Voluntiers’, p. 23 ff. Banks was stimulated by a letter in the <hi rend="i">Gazetteer and New Daily Advertiser</hi>, 11 June 1772, signed by ‘A Briton’, which said, <hi rend="i">inter alia</hi>, ‘From what I can see, Mr. Banks, Dr. Solander, Dr. Lind, and Mr. Zoffani, are likely to be excluded from a voyage which, from their sharing it, did honour to the nation; and in all probability, the noblest expedition ever fitted out will dwindle to nothing, and disgrace this country’. A gentleman without a signature answered this on 16 June: ‘The whole of the matter is, Mr. B. did not chuse to go the voyage, unless he could ride the waves triumphantly, in all the pomp and splendour of an Eastern Monarch’. There were other letters, on 17 June from ‘An Englishman’ (anti-Banks), and on 23 June from ‘Detector’ (pro-Banks).</p></note> Although he could not, indeed, have placed very much reliance on ‘the publick’, he did at this time entertain some hope that the East India Company would support him in a southern voyage — a hope that certainly misapprehended the nature of the East India Company. The Comte de Lauraguais had a little to say on that subject, not without irony: the shareholders were getting only 12½ per cent, he told Buffon, the Company would discover that it was too poor to bear the expense. Lauraguais was writing to Buffon and to D'Alembert, the secretary of the French Academy — no doubt as representatives of the Europe to which Banks had given pledges — about the ‘manifeste littéraire’ which Banks had sent them — perhaps copies of his abortive letter to the <hi rend="i">Gazetteer.</hi> Banks and Bougainville (who also wanted to go on another voyage, to the <name key="name-402253" type="place">North Pole</name>), he said, must not lament; they must recall the history of Columbus and of Cortes. If the French government wished the fame of its navy to outshine the strength of England's, let it give a ship to the dissatisfied ones, ‘et le globe serait découvert et connu’. Mr Banks would bear the natural history expenses.<note xml:id="fn2-82" n="2"><p>Copies of these two letters are in ‘Voluntiers’, pp. 391–3. That to D'Alembert is dated 12 July 1772. Banks had apparently himself composed a letter to D'Alembert in a French over which Lauraguais shakes his head. The letter to Buffon has no date in the copy, but must have been sent at the same time.</p></note> Mr Banks was not to get a ship from any government. He was not long, however, without a destination. He already had had some thoughts of a northern voyage,<note xml:id="fn3-82" n="3"><p>In the letter to Falconer already quoted from (p. 71 above) he remarks, ‘The Very Intelligent observations which I meet with in your last about the Northern Countreys make me almost regret the having given up my Northern plan in which they would have been so usefull I shall however lay it by as a treasure I may sometime make use of…’.</p></note> and now they revived. He would take his suite to Iceland, and include in it the unfortunate Lind, who, not having received the £4000, was much out of pocket over his preparations for the southern journey. Lind as a friend was begged to command his
						<pb xml:id="n122" n="83"/>
						share of Banks's estate. He was not prepared to reimburse himself thus, but henceforth he maintained an extreme admiration for the man to whom, he held, he owed so much.<note xml:id="fn1-83" n="1"><p>Lind to Maskelyne, 30 January 1775; D.T.C. I, pp. 82–3. Presumably Maskelyne passed on to the Admiralty this letter, so much more complimentary to Banks than to the British government. Maskelyne had been sounding Lind on his willingness to go on a northern Pacific voyage.</p></note> As for Zoffany, he went to Florence, and some at least of his friends congratulated him. ‘This … is better than his going to draw naked savages and be scalped with that wild man Banks’, wrote <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name>.<note xml:id="fn2-83" n="2"><p>Walpole to <name type="person" key="name-207942">Sir Horace Mann</name>, 20 September 1772, <hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. Toynbee), VIII, p. 207.</p></note> He, in his turn, had agreed to return to Banks's service on a fortnight's notice.<note xml:id="fn3-83" n="3"><p>Iceland Journal, p.6. Here another letter to Banks, not in the Voluntiers volume, may be quoted. It seems to indicate that he had already, early in June, announced publicly his intention of going on a voyage of his own. The writer, <name type="person" key="name-402008">Richard Rollett</name>, was a Lincolnshire man, who seems to have had some objection to the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, or to Cook.— ‘Resolution Sheerness June 9<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 1772. Most Honoured Sir—I not having an oppertunity of waiting on you in person have made bold to make this Letter the Messinger of my Nessessitys, Which is to do me the Honour of a birth in your Service, in the Capacity of Mas<hi rend="sup">tr</hi> Sail maker, Which I now am On board the Resolution I am very desirous to proceed on the Voyage, but in the ship with Which you &amp; D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander goes, I should have gone with the Adventure, if you had not been going in the Resolution when I first shipd myself.—It is the Desire of my friends, I should go this voyage, which If I Do not, the Disadvantage will be very great to me as it Lyes in there power to do very genteel for me at My Return, Which I must &amp; will suffer Reather than go in this Ship, altho I am so Desirous of Proceeding the Voyage, therefore I hope you'll be pleas'd to Favour me with my Desire which will make me Intirely happy, &amp; till such time as I Know your pleasure Remain your Honours most Obedient &amp; Most Devoted Serv<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Rich<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Rollett— I hope you please to let me know your pleasure Which I Impatiently wait for &amp; hope it will be a profound Secret to Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cook for if it Dont sute you &amp; he heres of it my time will be Very Miserible to me’.—ATL, <hi rend="i">Miscellaneous material relating to Cook's voyages.</hi> Rollett however duly sailed on the <hi rend="i">Resolution.</hi></p></note></p>
        <p>Why Iceland? Iceland was coming into fashion, but it was a literary fashion, the fashion of Runic inscriptions, of the sagas that were so engaging to scholars of philology and the Northern past, of an epic that could hardly fail to impinge upon the mind cultivated in romance. Iceland had its antiquities. It could not rival Greece and Rome, nor did it shine with the imperial visions of the South Sea; but it was in the air. Dr Johnson, who dealt so summarily with Boswell's circumnavigatory leaning, himself idly thought of a voyage to Iceland. The age was fond of volcanoes, and Iceland had a volcano. For Banks indeed the suggestion may have come from Solander, indirectly inspired by that other Linnaean pupil <name type="person" key="name-401905">Johann Gerhard König</name>, who had collected plants there in 1764–5, and spoke highly of the country; it may have gathered force from a young Swede whom Banks met in London at the time, Uno von Troil, later archbishop of Uppsala, a person devoted to
						<pb xml:id="n123" n="84"/>
						every aspect of Scandinavian history. Or he may simply, as a man of his time, have thought of it for himself. Botany, zoology, volcanoes called; and he was ready for a Runic inscription. Certainly he had no doubt that Iceland merited a visit. The reasons that seemed valid to him (however unjust to König) may be given in his own words. The East India Company, he persuaded himself, had made overtures and seemed inclined to send him on a voyage to the South Sea in the spring of 1773. Meanwhile, though Zoffany had gone to Italy, the rest of his following were left upon his hands, ‘and as they were a considerable running expence I thought it prudent to employ them in some way or other to the advancement of Science, a voyage of some kind or other I wishd to undertake and saw no place at all within the compass of my time so likely to furnish me with an opportunity as Iceland, a countrey which from its being in some measure the property of a danish trading company has been visited but seldom and never at all by any good naturalist to my knowledge; the whole face of the countrey new to the Botanist and Zoologist as well as the many Volcanoes with which it is said to abound made it very desirable to explore it and tho the season was far advanced yet something might be done, at least hints might be gatherd which might promote the farther examination of it by some others’.<note xml:id="fn1-84" n="1"><p>Iceland Journal, pp. 6–7.</p></note> He would thus both keep his people together and keep them busy pending the greater voyage. The Danish embassy in London readily granted a passport, and Banks chartered a brig of 190 tons, the <hi rend="i">Sir Lawrence</hi>, Captain Hunter and a crew of twelve, ‘to proceed according to my directions at the Rate of 100 pounds a month for four Months Certain’.<note xml:id="fn2-84" n="2"><p>The brig was in the end under charter for five months, from 11 July to 4 December, as we see from the account in the ‘Voluntiers’ papers</p></note> At last he had a ship under his own orders. He proceeded to open a new journal.</p>
        <p>It is a journal interesting, like nearly everything Banks wrote, but as an Iceland journal not wholly satisfactory, for it breaks off soon after the writer reached Iceland; and what other information we have on the visit is satisfactory only to the extent that it mentions a date or two, a few places, some isolated incidents. A biographer is too much tantalized. The first eight pages of the journal are indeed spent on an obsessional reworking of Banks's case against the Admiralty, pages which could well have been given to his travels; while the <hi rend="i">Letters on Iceland</hi> which von Troil published at
						<pb xml:id="n124"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP005a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP005a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP005a-g"/><head>Banks and Solander<lb/>
								<hi rend="i">from ‘shadows’ by <name type="person" key="name-150150">James Lind</name></hi></head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n125"/>
						<pb xml:id="n126" n="85"/>
						Uppsala in 1777 touch on those travels only incidentally.<note xml:id="fn1-85" n="1"><p>Banks's MS does not seem to have been previously utilized by any student. It is now in the McGill University Library, and I am greatly indebted to the generosity of the Librarian of McGill in providing me with a microfilm copy. The MS has 8 pp. of introduction, followed by 88 pp. of journal, 12 July–6 September 1772, and an appendix giving the text of the passport. Of the 88 journal pages, 60 are devoted to the Scottish islands, and 14 to Iceland. In the introduction Banks says he will include his long letter to Sandwich of 30 May in an appendix, but does not do so. It is possible that he wrote more journal than is extant, but if so, why has the passport appendix survived and not the rest of the journal? A copy of the journal by S.S.B. survives (Hawley coll.); this breaks off at 5 September, but does include the letter to Sandwich. Banks did write more, though it may not have been in journal form, because he lent some notes to W. J. Hooker to aid the latter in his own tour of Iceland in 1809, and Hooker quotes Banks's account of the ascent of Mount Hecla (see p. 92 below). Lord Brabourne, also, has a small notebook with a few details attributable to September and October (I have not seen this and owe my knowledge of it to Miss Janet D. Hine). And there are two long and interesting letters to Falconer, quoted below. <name key="name-402050" type="person">Von Troil</name>'s book appeared in 1778 in a German edition, from which <name type="person" key="name-124833">J. R. Forster</name> made the English version, London 1780: <hi rend="i">Letters on Iceland, made during a Voyage undertaken in the year 1772, By Joseph Banks Esq., F.R.S. and Dr. Solander, F.R.S., Dr. Lind, F.R.S., Dr. Uno von Troil, D.D., and several other Literary and ingenious Gentlemen</hi>—to give the gist of its intolerably verbose title-page.— All the evidence available a generation ago on the visit, from Icelandic as well as English sources, was brought together in the valuable monograph by Halldór Hermannsson, <hi rend="i">Sir Joseph Banks and Iceland</hi> (Ithaca, N.Y., 1928), pp. 4–20. Hermannsson unfortunately did not have the journal or the Falconer letters. He reproduced 24 of the 75 drawings made by the Millers and Cleveley, now in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, Add. MSS 15511 and 15512.</p></note> The obsession could certainly not go farther without our worrying about the balance of our young man's mind: he cannot resist recording a little scandal about the artist who finally went with Cook; Solander, whose pre-eminence in his own branches of science was acknowledged and admired on all hands, is ‘now well known in the learned world as my assistant in nat[ural] Hist[ory]’; while as for the voyage of the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, Banks had been offered by the Admiralty ‘the alternative to go or let it alone, with a great deal of Coolness however, for I now had inadvertently opend to them Every Idea of discovery which my last voyage had suggested to me and these they thought themselves able to follow without my assistance now they had once got possession of them’. But for his ‘people’ he maintained his charm, as well as his importance as a source of livelihood. He took with him, independent of the captain and crew of the <hi rend="i">Sir Lawrence</hi>, twenty-one persons in all: he had added a cook and a gardener to the original company, and there were three more newcomers — von Troil, who wished to make observations upon the Icelandic language; ‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Riddel, a young gentleman intended for the Sea’, who wanted also to go south with Banks if the East India Company provided a ship;<note xml:id="fn2-85" n="2"><p>This is presumably the person of whom Hume wrote (to Lind?), 24 February 1772: ‘There is a young Gentleman of the Name of Riddal, Grandson of Sir Walter Riddal, who goes with you in your nautical &amp; philosophical Expedition in the Station of a Midshipman: I am much connected with his Friends who desire to have him recommended to you’.—Klibanksy and Mossner, <hi rend="i">New Letters of David Hume</hi>, p. 195. Young Riddell may have been ‘intended for the Sea’, but he does not appear to have been appointed to either of Cook's ships. He was a relative of the wife of Hume's elder brother John, a niece of Sir Walter Riddell of Riddell, who was the head of ‘an ancient and honourable family’ in Roxburghshire. His presence, like Lind's, illustrates how Banks's relations were extending over the kingdom.</p></note> and Gore of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>,
						<pb xml:id="n127" n="86"/>
						who ‘out of mere freindship chose to take the trip’. Gore, we may note, had now been three times round the world, with hardly a rest in between, and might well feel that he had earned a little leave and — if he could not keep away from the sea — a period as passenger.</p>
        <p>The adventurers sailed from Gravesend on the night of 12 July, carrying Count Lauraguais as far as Dover, and arranging there for the transport to Calais of a bird that Banks was sending to Buffon. There was a historic brass cannon to inspect at the castle, and a little botanizing to do. The wind turned contrary and blew fresh, and for several days Banks was too sick to write. By 20 July they were at the Isle of Wight — ‘a little paradise’, thought von Troil, though Banks was more measured in his description. Going ashore early at Cowes to buy butter and eggs, they had to walk about till the shops opened. Cowes was a pleasant town; the small and ill-built Yarmouth, where they ‘landed with French Horns to the no small surprise of the people who little expected to see such a motley crew issue from so small a vessel’, less so, its people ‘much less humanisd’ than those of Cowes, less used to strangers: ‘the children followd us about the streets begging for halfpence’. It was not quite like landing on a South Sea island, but at least the French horns had had their effect. Three more days brought them to Plymouth, to find that Arnold, the instrument-maker, had carried Banks's chronometer back to London. Once more Mount Edgcumbe was inspected, with regrets that its noble owner was not more a man of refined taste, who could have added some touches of art to the magnificent inadequacies of nature; but the docks called forth unqualified enthusiasm. Then by ship again, with the wind still west, and more and worse sea-sickness from day to day. A bout of fishing yielded only four dogfish, ‘in whose fins were however a new species of Oniscus’; and when, a few miles off the Cornish coast, a flag was hoisted to attract fishing-vessels, a legion of small boats shot out to see what smuggled goods the <hi rend="i">Sir Lawrence</hi> had on board. Such was the eighteenth century. At last, on 28 August, near Land's End, with a south-west sea growing, it was decided to sail up the Irish Channel; the wind turned favourable, and the morning of the 31st showed the Mull of Kintyre.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n128" n="87"/>
        <p>There followed a fortnight among the Hebridean islands — a longer time than Banks had meant to spend, but a fortnight that gave full scope to his romantic, sporting, observing mind, and to his recording pen. Neither rain, nor fog, nor foul winds blurred his enthusiasm. On Saturday, 1 August, the ship anchored in Lochindale, to find an immense crowd gathered together for the single communion of the year next day. Banks had to have tents pitched for shelter, while the Sunday was deemed so sacred by the inhabitants that he could not even walk out botanizing — though certainly that pleasure would have been marred by the immoderate rain. On Monday he could at least go for a walk, to Killam, a small town at the head of the bay, where he found the ruins of a religious foundation, and set his artists to drawing tombstones; there were lead-mines also, originally worked by the Danes. On Tuesday more rain, and another walk to see a cave of which he had received ‘a very pompous account’, but it turned out to be ‘a dirty nasty hollow in a rock’ on Wednesday still more rain, and the decision to move to the other side of the island. Banks rode overland, with an eye on the country and its farms. On 6 August the rain broke; the travellers crossed to the isle of Jura with a barometer to measure the height of the stony hills; the following day they fixed the latitude of Freeport, and the day after that arrived dripping wet on Oronsay to inspect its ancient monastic remains. Once again the artists were set to work. On the 9th they left the Sound of Islay: Banks wanted to sail straight to ‘Y Columb Kill’ — Icolmkill or the isle of Iona, but his pilot insisted on going through the Sound of Mull. (Cook was not the only sailor to prefer his own professional judgment to Banks's.) At least this gave him some fishing and shooting; he shot gulls, ‘as all our gentlemen think these excellent meat’, including the first Arctic Gull he had ever seen. There was an old fort, miserably broken down but picturesque, for the artists. And there was full liberty to the soul. It was 11 August; the ship was passing between Mull and Morven when Mr Banks's emotions, in the literary way, came to the top: he gazed on the fabulous shore entranced.</p>
        <q>Morven the Land of Heroes once the seat of the Exploits of Fingal the mother of romantick scenery of Ossian I could not even sail past it without a touch of Enthusiasm sweet affection of the mind which can gather pleasures from the Empty Elements and realise substantial pleasure which three fourths of mankind are ignorant of I lamented the busy bustle of the ship and had I dard to venture the Censure of my Companions would certainly have brought her to an anchor to have read ten pages
						<pb xml:id="n129" n="88"/>
						of Ossian under the shades of those woods would have been Luxury above the reach of Kings.<note xml:id="fn1-88" n="1"><p>Iceland Journal, pp. 34–5. The contrast between the emotions of Banks in the Hebrides in 1772, and of Johnson in 1773, is really comic.</p></note></q>
        <p>Soon after came the anti-climax; for passing the mouth of a beautiful inlet ‘the cruel pilot’ would not let the enthusiast land, declaring it a bar harbour. They had to anchor, ‘as fate directed in as ugly a spot as we could have chose along the whole coast, sufficiently so I think to have destroyed the enthusiasm of even an Ossian’. Yet even here, once ashore, the enquiring mind found food: he could observe the burning of kelp, of which we get a full description.</p>
        <p>More was at hand than kelp-burners. Banks met an English gentleman, a Mr Leach, who told him that on an island about nine leagues off were pillars like those of the Giants’ Causeway. The Giants’ Causeway was a phenomenon that only lack of time had kept him from visiting earlier. Here was a chance to make up for the omission. He had two days’ provision and his tent loaded into a boat, sent the ship round to wait in Tobermory harbour, took eight of his people and was rowed over to Staffa — a tedious eight hours’ passage without a breath of wind. It was night when they landed; the tent was too small, so four volunteers, led by Solander, braved the smoke and suspected lice of a nearby fisherman's hut. In the morning — it was 13 August and a great day in Banks's life — enthusiasm once more rushed to the surface. On the south-west side of the island ‘we were struck with a scene which exceeded our Expectations’. This was the great range of natural pillars for which Staffa has since then been pre-eminently known. Banks made a rhetorical flight which perhaps compensates for his discontent with the unaided nature of Mount Edgcumbe.</p>
        <q>Compard to this what are the Cathedrals or the palaces built by man mere models or playthings imitations as diminutive as his works will always be when compard to those of nature where is now the boast of the architect regularity the only part in which he fancied himself to exceed his mistress nature is here found in her possession &amp; here it has been for ages uncounted, is not this the school where the art was originaly studied &amp; what had been added to this by the whole grecian school a Capital to ornament the Column of nature of which they could execute only a model &amp; for that very capital they were obligd to a bush of acanthus.</q>
        <q>how amply does nature repay those who study her wonderfull works.</q>
        <p>With his mind full of such reflections was Mr Banks guided over the new giants’ causeway. But there was still more to come —
						<pb xml:id="n130" n="89"/>
						there was the magnificent, the stupendous cave of ‘Ouwa Eehn’, ‘Fiuhn Mac Coul whoom the translator of Ossians works has calld Fingal’ — Fingal's Cave, in fact; ‘how fortunate that in this cave we should meet with the remembrance of that cheif whose existence as well as that of the whole Epick poem is almost doubted in England’. Dubious the reception of <name type="person" key="name-401895">James McPherson</name>'s misty eloquence by the critics of Britain might be; but certainly Mr McPherson could have no reason for complaint about this particular reader. — ‘Enough for the beauties of Staffa’, continues Banks, science regaining its command of his mind, ‘I shall now proceed to describe it and its productions more Philosophicaly’ He, Dr Solander, Dr Lind and the rest had had a most exhausting day, climbing up and down with ropes and measuring rod and pencils and paper; but by four o'clock all was done, drawings and measurements, and we have the precise details in the journal. By that time too the lice had made their presence felt, at which the affected gentlemen complained to the woman of the house ‘with some peevishness’. Her husband was regrettably unmoved: lice being unknown on Staffa before, he reasoned, obviously they must have come with the gentlemen.</p>
        <p>The gentlemen crossed over to the sacred ground of Iona, where for the first time in the Highlands they were asked how much they would give for their board and lodging. Nevertheless board and lodging they soon got — an empty house, clean straw, sour curds and cream, and a fire they had to put out for lack of a chimney — preparation for another day of rain and ruins, with a good deal of unlikely story thrown in by their guide.<note xml:id="fn1-89" n="1"><p>Banks elsewhere tells a pleasant story about the visit to Iona: ‘in each of the 4 sides of this Island which answer the 4 Cardinal points is a stone in which seamen place great faith beleiving that if they cleen carefully any one of them a wind will arise from its respective quarter. When we were there the Stone on the North side was nicely swept &amp; a northerly wind arising fannd us gently away to our ship where we arrivd at night’.— Banks to Falconer, 12 January 1773, Hawley coll.</p></note> That night they reached the ship, ‘in Tobir more, a prodigious fine harbour’, and after an unsuccessful day hunting roebuck on Oronsay again set sail, northwards between Skye and the Outer Hebrides. Banks had liked the ‘scotch nation’, deplored their housing, admired their education; disliked their home-distilled whisky, which drove him to drink milk; regretted that he could say nothing about their language, called ‘Galick’. Now he was anxious to visit St Kilda; but dirty weather both made a landing impossible and plunged everybody in the usual sickness. It fell calm: he went out in the boat, shot sea-birds and picked up three Portuguese men-of-war,
						<pb xml:id="n131" n="90"/>
						unusual in those latitudes; a fair wind blew and raised all spirits; it blew strong, and all spirits were depressed. At last, on 25 August, rocks were seen. They were the rocks of Iceland.</p>
        <p>It took three days to come in with the land, and by the time the flat shore and scattered houses were visible, long ridges of hills behind, there were fishing-boats all round. The fishermen were unexpectedly shy; as Banks learnt later, some dispute was in train between Denmark and England, and they suspected the ship to be the forerunner of a conquering fleet.<note xml:id="fn1-90" n="1"><p>Von Troil, on the other hand, merely says there was a severe penalty for piloting a strange ship into harbour without official permission, as a measure against smugglers— which does not contradict Banks, any more than Banks contradicts him. Shyness of smugglers would argue a radical difference between the Icelanders and the Cornishmen. Foreign trade with Iceland was in fact forbidden. It is said also that the Icelanders remembered an Algerian pirate-raid in the previous century, and feared another.— Hermannsson, p. 9.</p></note> At last a few were enticed on board, fishy, and ‘lousy to admiration’; Solander found that his Scandinavian tongues made conversation easy; they ate, drank, and gained such happy confidence from learning that the English were Christian that one of them agreed to pilot the ship into Hafnafiord, an important trading point, in the south-west corner of the island. Next day, 29 August, accordingly, they anchored near Bessastad, the residence of the governor, a place famous in the sagas; Solander got permission to land; the governor received them politely; and the famous visit could begin. They could have the vacant warehouses of the Danish merchants to stay in, but must not take possession until after the following day, Sunday. To acquire virtue in Icelandic eyes, therefore, the English put on their best clothes, went to church, and rigidly eschewed all sign of work or amusement, ‘which as there were above 30 just landed in a new countrey was rather extrordinary’. The early days were spent in building up good relations and trade, much as if the visitors were on a South Sea island; ribbons and tobacco were given away; Dr Lind had ‘a great Levy’ dispensing medicines and electrical shocks from Banks's electrical machine;<note xml:id="fn2-90" n="2"><p>Cf.pp. 158, II, 276–9 below. This use of the ‘electrical machine’, for purposes of amusement, is very typical of the age. Unhappily there were no ‘humorous effects’: of the poor Icelanders, thus surprised in the clinical routine, ‘every one looked as a fool who had received an unexpected slap on the face nothing lively appeared no good prognostick of Bright parts in our new freinds’.—Iceland Journal, 3 September.</p></note> and there was fishing, botanizing, and the first exploration of lava beds. Another Sunday came, when Banks entertained the governor, one of his subordinates, and their families to dinner — the ladies in Icelandic dress duly described; everything was a great success, ‘but most of all the French horns which playd to them at their desire they having explaind
						<pb xml:id="n132" n="91"/>
						to us that musick was a laudable occupation even on a sunday’.<note xml:id="fn1-91" n="1"><p>Iceland Journal, 6 September.</p></note> Then they galloped away on their little horses over the rough lava — and Banks's journal, so rich in endearing detail, so much the reflection of his lively mind, comes to an end.</p>
        <p>We are compelled to fall back upon our other sources. There must have been a week more of local exploration of the volcanic, treeless country, with its vast lava-beds, its small farms and vegetable gardens, till the party set out on the grand expedition, to climb Mount Hecla: this was a twelve days’ journey, and they climbed to the top, von Troil tells us, on 24 September. We have an itinerary noted down by Solander.<note xml:id="fn2-91" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Plantae Islandicae et Notulae itinerariae</hi>; B.M.(N.H.), Botany Library.</p></note> From Hafnafiord they first made their way to Heitharbaer, a farm on the north-west shore of Lake Thingvalla. Next day they visited the meeting place of that venerable institution the Althing, or Icelandic parliament, and went on to Lake Laugarvatn with its neighbouring hot springs and geysers; in one of the springs they had the happiness of boiling a piece of mutton, some trout, and a ptarmigan (‘which was almost boiled to pieces in six minutes, and tasted excellently’);<note xml:id="fn3-91" n="3"><p>Von Troil, p. 10.</p></note> and so on to Muli to spend the night. Then came the great day with geysers at Haukadal, where they stayed from 6 in the morning till 7 at night, enchanted with forty or fifty boiling and spouting springs, and especially with Geysir, which has given its name to all such phenomena; Lind set up his quadrant and measured the 92 feet of its greatest rise. This was on 21 September. There followed a day of literary interest; for they were received at Skalholt not merely with kindness from Bishop Finnur Jonsson, the learned historian of the Icelandic church, but with a Latin and Icelandic ode composed by the headmaster of the cathedral school in honour of Banks. The leader of the expedition made return of suitable gifts; and the expedition passed on to more hot springs at Laugaras, was ferried across the two rivers Hvita and Thiorsa, and reached the parsonage of Skarth to spend another night. They were almost at their goal. On 23 September they reached Grafell, a mountain in the lava field west of Hecla, pitched a tent for a short night, and at one o'clock next morning started on the ascent. It took them thirteen hours.</p>
        <p>They scrambled up — for they had to leave their horses — in intense cold, with a violent wind blowing against them — so violent that sometimes they were forced to lie down to save themselves
						<pb xml:id="n133" n="92"/>
						from being hurled over the precipices. They were ‘covered with ice in such a manner that our clothes resembled buckram…. The water we had with us was all frozen. Dr Lind filled his wind machine with warm water: it rose to 1.6 and then froze into spiculae, so that we could not make observations any longer’.<note xml:id="fn1-92" n="1"><p>Banks, as quoted by W. J. Hooker, <hi rend="i">Journal of a Tour in Iceland</hi> (London 1813), II, pp. 116–7.</p></note> Mount Hecla has more than one peak: they seemed to have reached the top, when, in the manner of mountains, the top presented itself still farther beyond. Solander gave up and stayed with an Icelander in the intermediate hollow — did he have unpleasing memories of the snows, the fatal hills, of Tierra del Fuego? — but the rest persevered into triumph. Hecla is 5000 feet above the sea. They were the first, they were convinced, who had stood upon its height. They had all wished to see a burning mountain. The drawback was, that the mountain would not burn — at least visibly: there were patches on the sides where underlying heat had melted the snow, and on the top was a small space whence, said Banks, ‘there proceeded so much heat and steam that we could not bear to sit down upon it’;<note xml:id="fn2-92" n="2"><p>ibid.</p></note> and at least that was satisfactory. Hecla had last erupted in 1766, devastating the country with its lava-flow, and flamed a few weeks before the climb: how seldom does Nature oblige the desires of the human heart! Nor was this ascent the first: the mountain had been climbed twenty-two years before. Yet it was a gratifying achievement. A three days’ journey brought the adventurers back to Hafnafiord — first along Langafell and to Skarth, over the Thiorsa river and to Hraungerthi parsonage; then the river Olvesa, and a ride along Ingolfsgall to Reykir, where they could study another group of boiling springs; then over Hellisheithi safe to their warehouse-headquarters.</p>
        <p>Where else Banks went in Iceland we cannot say with precision. The names given by von Troil argue another tour of hot springs, westwards and north-west to the North Cape, and then perhaps east and south round the island; and we may infer the inspection of ‘Remains of Antiquity’, or, as our age has it, ancient monuments, from his mention of their existence. We judge that there was a lively British-Icelandic social life: there was for example the country parson who was entertained with singing and the music of some unknown instrument;<note xml:id="fn3-92" n="3"><p>An occasion described in the <hi rend="i">Autobiography</hi> of Jon Steingrimsson, quoted by Hermannsson, p. 10.</p></note> there was the dinner given by the surgeon-general, Bjarni Palsson — at Banks's request, an Icelandic dinner —
						<pb xml:id="n134" n="93"/>
						where spirits, dried fish, and sour butter proved tolerable, but not the dessert of whale and shark, looking very much like rusty bacon. Presents were exchanged; minerals and other natural objects, antiquities, and books came to Banks in abundance. Of printed books he purchased whatever he could: manuscripts, alas, there were exceedingly few, for Scandinavian scholars had scraped the country almost bare. We read of no social contretemps — it is evident that Banks was again at his heart-winning best; the governor, Olafur Stephensen, became his life-long friend. It was a serious people, records von Troil; they rarely laughed, and in their leisure hours they either recited the sagas or played cards. But — there is no doubt — they were amiable. The draughtsmen drew assiduously: their sketches and water colours present an invaluable picture of the Icelandic life of that period. In this pleasant atmosphere of goodwill the visit ended. Some time in the latter part of October the ship was ballasted with lava, loaded with the extraordinary variety of articles that Banks had managed to collect, and stood southwards for Scotland again by way of the <name key="name-402254" type="place">Orkney Islands</name>. In Scotland Banks spent a further period, we do not know how, till on 19 November he departed with Solander and Lind from Edinburgh for London.<note xml:id="fn1-93" n="1"><p>One of the Iceland drawings is dated 15 October; so, as Hermannsson points out, the ship must have left Iceland after that date. The note-book in Lord Brabourne's possession has the final entries, ‘21 [October?] Idle, 22 Idle too resolve to go away fair or foul’. If October is the month referred to then the departure could not have been earlier than the 23rd. In a letter to Falconer of 12 January 1773, Banks remarks, ‘the course I steerd was through the western Islands to Iceland from whence after having remaind 8 weeks I returnd by the orkneys to Edinburgh &amp; from thence by land to London’; but in another, 2 April 1773, he says ‘we were only 6 weeks ashore on it’— i.e. Iceland.—Hawley coll. Smith, p. 34, apparently following <hi rend="i">Gent. Mag.</hi> xlii, p. 540, says Banks left Edinburgh on 19 November, after spending some time there and in the Highlands, but gives no authority for the statement. <hi rend="i">Gent. Mag.</hi> merely gives the date. The <hi rend="i">General Evening Post</hi>, 24 November 1772, announces that ‘<name type="person" key="name-123818">Joseph Banks</name> Esq., D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Lind, are on their return to London from Scotland…’.</p></note> The journey, although it had not embraced the globe, had been a rewarding one. Its trophies, at one time or another, were dedicated to the public advantage: the lava ballast went to Kew to form the ‘moss garden’, and to the rockeries of the Apothecaries’ Garden at Chelsea; the printed books and manuscripts, with others that Olafur Stephensen sent later, were to be the foundation of the British Museum's Icelandic collection; the description of Staffa, with the drawings of Cleveley and the Millers, went into the <hi rend="i">Tour in Scotland</hi> that Thomas Pennant published in 1774.<note xml:id="fn2-93" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Tour in Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides.</hi> Banks's description, which appeared in Vol. I (Chester, 1774), pp. 261–9, stuck closely to the words of his journal. Vol. II was published in London, 1776. The work was dedicated to Banks.—’… Staffa, so lately raised to renown by Mr Banks.’—Johnson, <hi rend="i">Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland</hi> (1775). Banks's connection with Staffa could have been even closer: Lind suggested he should buy it. ‘Talking of the Highlands I beg to acquaint you, that the Island of Staffa is to be sold this Spring; the annual rent of it is about £10, and it is supposed £200 will buy it. If you choose to purchas it, you'll please to let me know, and I shall get some friend to bid for it at the Sale, as it will not be proper for you or any of your friends to appear in it, lest it should enhance it[s] value.’—Lind to Banks, 2 March 1775, Webster coll.</p></note> Solander's <hi rend="i">Flora Islandica</hi> and the greater
						<pb xml:id="n135" n="94"/>
						part of the drawings were never published. Mr Banks had a new visiting card made, a map of Iceland engraved upon it, with Mount Hecla prominent and the Arctic circle carefully dotted in. Nobody could say — even the Navy Board could not say — that he had not added lustre to his name.</p>
        <p>But he still felt restless. It is plain — we have touched on the point already — that, though Joseph Banks might be called a philosopher in the eighteenth century sense, without placing any strain at all on the word, in the sense of the twentieth century no man was less a philosopher than he. Nor was it that, like Dr Johnson's friend, he tried to be a philosopher but cheerfulness kept breaking in. He would have seen no conflict between philosophy and cheerfulness, and he was generally cheerful. He knew there was an Order of Nature, and as a general idea, a rational explanation of the universe, that was enough for him.<note xml:id="fn1-94" n="1"><p>On the ‘Chain of Creation’, or the ‘Chain of Being’, and Banks's references to it in his Journal, see II, p. 20, n. 1 below.</p></note> A voyager he esteemed himself, but he was never a voyager through strange seas of thought, alone. His devotion to natural history was an open-air devotion. However vast his herbarium, he was not a man of the study; his instinct was never to sit quiet. The collation of results, the fundamental brain-work, could be left to Solander. Banks, more even than Solander, needed people; he needed something to do. There was something to see in London that he had failed to see in Newfoundland — a visiting party of ‘Esquimaux Indians’, lodged in Leicester Street. Nevertheless this was small beer. Within a few weeks he was off again — not on a grand voyage, with newspaper paragraphs and a scientific staff, but simply to Holland by ordinary packet, in company with the <name type="person" key="name-401878">Hon. Charles Greville</name>, a son of the Earl of Warwick and Brooke — a <hi rend="i">savio</hi>, as <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name> called him, a charming companion, but no very romantic or striking figure. On 15 February 1773, late at night, we have the traveller sitting down at the Hague to write to his sister: that morning he had landed at Helvoetsluys, walked ‘seven long miles’ to the Brill, and completed the journey in waggons and a thick fog, through country
						<pb xml:id="n136" n="95"/>
						that (so far as he could see it) reminded him strongly of his native Lincolnshire.<note xml:id="fn1-95" n="1"><p>ML Banks Papers, XVI, 9–10.</p></note> At the Hague, ‘a most beautiful town’, he stayed a week, calling on the Prince of Orange, examining the Prince's menagerie, the chief cabinets of shells and other curiosities of natural history, pictures and people, and attending a concert, ‘the Musick intolerably indifferent, and stunningly loud’.<note xml:id="fn2-95" n="2"><p>Journal, p. 8 (18 February); cf. following note.</p></note> On the 25th he was at Amsterdam, ‘conveyd by a Track Skoot a most easy cheap and pleasant conveyance which has determined me to follow your advice and keep a Journal for as in that we have a Cabbin and table I can employ all the time we are traveling a saving of time which realy ought to be esteemd as a great benefit and must be so by those who can employ themselves’.<note xml:id="fn3-95" n="3"><p>‘Journal of a trip to Holland beginning with the time of leaving London (Feb<hi rend="sup">ry</hi> 12. 1773) &amp; ending with the day of returning thence again (March 22. 1773)’.—S.S.B. 1773.</p></note> He had passed through Leyden and Haarlem, greatly impressed by the organ at the latter and by the sluices between the Haarlemer meer and the sea, ‘a fine work ten times larger and more magnificent than our Grand Sluice in Lincolnshire and yet the Dutch think little of it’. At Amsterdam he went to the opera, a ‘singular performance with a second act an hour and three-quarters long’.<note xml:id="fn4-95" n="4"><p>Letter of 24. February 1773, ML Banks Papers, XVI, pp. 5–8.</p></note> There were more cabinets here and at Utrecht; at Utrecht he went to church with the Moravians, and was much edified; but by 5 March he had reached Rotterdam, where next day he and Greville were inducted into a Society of Literature, lately established for the discussion of Hydrostatics. This was above Banks's head, and he got away with relief to the study of strange birds and to sauntering round the town; perhaps he was glad to return to the Hague. Here, on 10 March, he ‘had a Levee of Greenland Captains, who had been sent for from Rotterdam, in order to give me such information as they might be able, which might forward Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Phipps's plan of sailing towards the Pole’<note xml:id="fn5-95" n="5"><p>Journal, pp. 69–70.</p></note> — the voyage stimulated by one of Banks's friends, <name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name>, through the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>, and to be commanded by his other friend Phipps; a voyage for which the two ‘bombs’ <hi rend="i">Racehorse</hi> and <hi rend="i">Carcass</hi> were then being prepared. Banks himself nourished some hopes of going on this voyage,<note xml:id="fn6-95" n="6"><p>Cf. the postscript of his letter to Falconer, 2 April 1773: ‘we are employd in fitting out an expedition in order to penetrate as near to the <name key="name-402253" type="place">North Pole</name> as Possible it consists of two Boom Ketches chose as the strongest species of Ships therefore the best to Cope with the Ice they will sail before the middle of the next month commanded by a good Freind of mine Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Phipps your opinion of the Frigid Zone cannot but be useful to him &amp; very agreable to me at this Juncture’. Banks's known interest in this voyage and his meeting with the men of learning at Rotterdam, confused with his ‘Levee of Greenland Captains’ at the Hague, was perhaps the basis of the report in the <hi rend="i">Annual Register</hi>, 1773, p. 82, that he and Greville assisted at a session of the Batavian Society at Rotterdam, whereat he communicated his design of undertaking the voyage, asked for information of Dutch discoveries up to 84<hi rend="sup">o</hi> north latitude, and promised in return to report all the discoveries he might make. Banks's journal mentions no such meeting.</p></note> and he
						<pb xml:id="n137" n="96"/>
						listened eagerly to talk of ice and currents. There was another visit to court, and a ridotto, and more curiosities; there were many friends; and Joseph, writing again to Sophia, found himself ‘tolerably well pleasd with this fenny muddy country as the inhabitants of it have been civiler to me than I deservd’.<note xml:id="fn1-96" n="1"><p>n.d. ML Banks Papers, XVI, p. 11.</p></note> Did he perhaps, amid those calm and fertile flats, as he gazed at the willows or the fields, or lifted his pen from the address ‘To Miss Banks near the Physick Garden Chelsea’, pause and think with a pang of the <hi rend="i">Resolution?</hi> The Low Countries were very well, but they were not adventure; the Hague, though agreeable, was not Tahiti. He passed again through Rotterdam to Helvoetsluys, to embark in the tedious and ‘stinking Pacquet’; before the end of March he was home in New Burlington Street; and Cook, after the gales and ice-fields of the far south, was in <name key="name-150168" type="place">Dusky Sound</name>, on that coast of New Zealand where, three years before, Banks had so much wished to land.</p>
        <p>Of friends and admirers there was no lack. It was in 1773 that <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name> began to present Banks with copies of his Discourses to the students of the <name key="name-006265" type="organisation">Royal Academy</name>.<note xml:id="fn2-96" n="2"><p>See F. W. Hilles, <hi rend="i">The Literary Career of Sir Joshua Reynolds</hi> (1936), bibliographical appendix.</p></note> The great Dr Robertson of the College of Edinburgh had accepted the Banksian case against Government at its face value. ‘I look with impatience into every News Paper to learn something about your future motions’, he wrote. ‘What a shame it is that the first literary and commercial nation in the world should hesitate a moment about encouraging the only voyage which in modern times has no other object but the advancement of science. I am afraid we are neither so learned, so intelligent, nor so public spirited as we pretend to be’.<note xml:id="fn3-96" n="3"><p>Robertson to Banks, 18 February 1773; D.T.C. I, pp. 47–8.</p></note> Perhaps there was balm in this. Perhaps there was balm in reflecting on the corresponding membership of the French Academy of Sciences, conferred in the previous March,<note xml:id="fn4-96" n="4"><p>He was ‘nommé correspondant de La Lande, le 11 mars 1772’.—<hi rend="i">Index Biographique des membres et correspondants de l’ Académie des Sciences de 1666 à 1939</hi> (Paris 1939). Banks had further steps in the hierarchy of French honour in 1787 and 1801.</p></note> when every prospect was still fair; or in the appointment of both Banks and Solander that now came, to the Royal Academy of Sciences at Ulrichstadt.<note xml:id="fn5-96" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Annual Register</hi>, 1773, p. 106.</p></note> The learned Falconer was once more
						<pb xml:id="n138" n="97"/>
						full of encouragement: he had heard ‘with great pleasure’ that Banks had had ‘some views of undertaking a Mediterranean Voyage. There would be a noble field for a Naturalist’.<note xml:id="fn1-97" n="1"><p>Falconer to Banks, undated, but with a pencil note at the top, ‘May 17, 1773’; D.T.C. I, p. 52.</p></note> In the summer there was a trip not to the <name key="name-402253" type="place">North Pole</name>, nor to the hardly less noble Mediterranean, but to Wales, with Solander, the botanist Lightfoot, and a new friend, <name type="person" key="name-401795">Dr Charles Blagden</name>, a physician from Edinburgh, a delightful person who rapidly became one of the most intimate of Banks's friends, and a copious and unwearied correspondent. Another companion, it seems likely, was <name type="person" key="name-401996">Paul Sandby</name> the artist, whose works Banks approved and bought.<note xml:id="fn2-97" n="2"><p>The memoir of Sandby by his son remarks, ‘He also travelled with Sir Joseph Banks, the late Dr Solander, and Mr Lightfoot, upon a tour of the Principality’—a journey he remembered with delight.—<hi rend="i">Monthly Magazine</hi>, 1 June 1811, p. 437; the memoir was reprinted by A. P. Oppé in the <hi rend="i">Burlington Magazine</hi>, LXXX (1946), pp. 143–7. The 1773 tour seems to be the only one that fits. I owe my references in this matter to Dr Bernard Smith.</p></note> It was a seven weeks’ botanical tour, repeating on the way the earlier journey to Bristol, Chepstow and Tintern, and then proceeding along the Glamorgan coast — new ground for botanists — with a dash into Breconshire and westward to the coast of Pembrokeshire. Alas! there are too many choices in life; the party stayed so long here, and so engrossed, that it had to ignore one of its more northern objectives, Cader Idris; for it seemed essential to work back across southern Wales into England, and then turn west to Anglesey and the ascent of Snowdon. Banks was in London by the middle of August; he had a load of rare plants, he had helped to solve some botanical problems, he had climbed the highest English mountain; certainly he could feel that life was pleasant.<note xml:id="fn3-97" n="3"><p>What we know of this journey comes from a ‘Journal of a Botanical Excursion in Wales’, kept by Lightfoot, and letters from him to Banks, edited by the Rev. H. J. Riddelsdell, and printed in the <hi rend="i">Journal of Botany</hi>, 43 (1905), pp. 290–307. I do not know of any journal by Banks. Lightfoot afterwards wrote to Banks, ‘I never became a Party in any Scheme which afforded me more Satisfaction or sincere Delight…. I believe it may without vanity be said, that few, if any Botanical Excursions in Great Britain have exceeded our Collection, either in Number or Rarity of Plants or Places’.—24 August 1773, loc. cit., p. 292.</p></note> When September brought Phipps back from the impenetrable ice north of Spitzbergen, Joseph could write to Sophia without envy: ‘one of the Ships from the North is returnd without success so I am glad I was not of the Party’.<note xml:id="fn4-97" n="4"><p>21 September 1773, ML Banks Papers, XVI, p. 21.</p></note> If he had been of the party, indeed, he might have gone hunting bears with the young <name type="person" key="name-134368">Horatio Nelson</name>.</p>
        <p>But the year 1773 was remarkable not so much for travels — travels which had now become no more than excursions — as for Banks's inauguration as an Adviser. The capital letter is justified.</p>
        <pb xml:id="n139" n="98"/>
        <p>On his early life, as he advanced into his thirties, a career was being superimposed that was to make him one of the most considerable figures in English life, outside politics and mere society. Obviously he had regained firm ground, after his sudden ballooning into the air of self-consequence: ‘the inhabitants … have been civiler to me than I deservd’, though a sentence of rather conventional sentiment, is not quite conventional when addressed to a sister who knew him. Its moderation is very different from the high tone he had adopted about the <name key="name-400769" type="organisation">Navy Board</name>. The importance which now began to be attached to the name of Joseph Banks was not importance attached by himself, nor adventitious, it did not arise simply from the supreme good luck of having been taken round the world by Lieutenant Cook, or even from the contribution which, before the end of the year, he was seen to have made to the history of that voyage. It was rooted in a capacity which he undoubtedly had, to advise, but to advise with discrimination, and with tact, on matters in which he was competent. He could still, for decades to come, be enthusiastic, persistent, strong-willed, even dogmatic; he could still therefore make enemies; but he was never again gratuitously foolish. He had a sense of the possible. His authority became formidable — partly, no doubt, because he cared to exert it; but also because it was both conceded and earned. It was many-sided; but that was because it arose from a real as well as many-sided interest. It was not earned in a day; and when at last all Europe looked to him, he made a good deal less play with ‘all Europe’ than he had done in that fatal month of May 1772. In the meanwhile he was just beginning; and he gave advice, wise enough, to Dr Hawkesworth over the preparation of his <hi rend="i">Voyages</hi> and his relations to Stanfield Parkinson.<note xml:id="fn1-98" n="1"><p>‘I long for the month of April when we are to be entertained and instructed’, wrote Robertson, in the letter already quoted, no doubt in anticipation of the appearance of the <hi rend="i">Voyages.</hi></p></note> He had become interested in a matter that never ceased to be interesting to him, the transference of useful plants from one part of the world to another, and he advised on that.<note xml:id="fn2-98" n="2"><p>Banks to S.S.B.: ‘My Dear Sister, I send you M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Boones paper relative to the bringing vegetable [s] to Antigua [from the East Indies]….’ n.d. Endorsed by S.S.B. ‘26 April sent to Mrs. Boone 27. 1773’. ML Banks Papers, XVI, pp. 13–14, with the directions carefully copied out by Sophia, pp. 15–18.</p></note> Nothing else, however, equalled in importance the influence he began to wield as a sort of scientific overseer to the royal gardens at Kew.</p>
        <p>For a hundred years already the gardens at Kew had had an honourable history, and they became royal when in 1730 Frederick Prince of Wales got a long lease of Kew House from the family
						<pb xml:id="n140" n="99"/>
						of the founder, <name type="person" key="name-401771">Sir Henry Capel</name>. To Kew in 1751 the Dowager Princess went to live, and forthwith expanded her domain to take in the adjoining derelict estate of Richmond Lodge. She set out to garden on the grand scale, with an excellent adviser. Lord Bute had the misfortune to have a political career, which has tended to blind posterity to his merits; though it is true that history at no time has paid great attention to horticulture. Wherever he lived he made a garden — on the island of Bute, at Luton Hoo in Bedfordshire, a third in Hampshire; and it was with Bute that botany at Kew became a scientific subject. He himself planted a number of the noble trees still there surviving; and he appointed the young man <name type="person" key="name-402054">William Aiton</name> in 1759 as royal gardener, the position Aiton occupied until his death in 1793, with the <hi rend="i">Hortus Kewensis</hi> as his literary monument. His monument otherwise Banks helped to raise; it was the gardens. Both men owed something to another great gardener, Philip Miller of the Apothecaries’ Garden at Chelsea. Aiton had been his pupil; the youthful Banks had haunted the Chelsea walks, made a friend of the old man, and after his death bought his herbarium. Miller had gathered in rare plants from all over the world; Bute had directed Aiton to lay out a ‘physic garden’ at Kew on the Chelsea model; and when the Princess Dowager died in 1772 and Bute departed from the royal scene, the way was open to another man, animated by the same passion but with rather different ideas, to take command. The destiny that brought Banks and George III together therefore was important. The king was only five years older than Banks; as a country gentleman devoted to farming and gardening he could have lived a very successful life — he was not called ‘Farmer George’ for nothing — and when he came to town he could have had his fill of concerts; Banks, introduced to him so soon after the return of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, could talk about a subject and show him things that roused his lively interest; Banks was quite non-political; Banks, while full of information and devoted to a Cause, nourished no sentiment whatsoever that could possibly disturb the Established Order. The Cause of the botanical exploration of the world, the experimental cultivation of the world's plants in one great centre, the extension of horticultural curiosity into scientific study, was a Cause the king could make his own. Once Banks had been in the royal presence, he was asked to come again; it is clear that the friendship between the two men rapidly ripened; and clear that there was only one candidate for the unofficial directorship of what Banks was to call His Majesty's Botanic Garden. The king
						<pb xml:id="n141" n="100"/>
						was to have a life-long interest and refreshment — he bought Kew House outright; Banks was to have the pleasing advantage of pursuing his own hobby with resources very much greater even than his own. The beginning of all this in 1773<note xml:id="fn1-100" n="1"><p>The precise date when Banks began to advise on Kew is obscure. It may possibly have been towards the end of 1772, after his return from Scotland, but 1773 seems the safer guess.</p></note> was a matter of the utmost importance not only to the two men, but to British botanical development; it was significant to the empire, not only of Britain, but of science.</p>
        <p>As the months moved on into 1774 the social web became more complex. There were new friends—<name type="person" key="name-401891">James Bruce</name>, the African traveller, the botanical Suffolk parson <name type="person" key="name-402018">Sir John Cullum</name>, Dr Alexander Hunter, who was editing Evelyn's <hi rend="i">Sylva.</hi> If social lustre were to be acquired competitively, Banks would have lost that year and Bruce would have won. Africa, wrote <name type="person" key="name-170616">Horace Walpole</name>, was coming into fashion. ‘There is just returned a Mr. Bruce, who has lived three years in the court of Abyssinia, and breakfasted every morning with the Maids of Honour on live oxen. Otaheite and Mr. Banks are quite forgotten’.<note xml:id="fn2-100" n="2"><p>Walpole to <name type="person" key="name-207942">Sir Horace Mann</name>, 10 July 1774; <hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. Toynbee), IX, p. 16. Banks's first introduction to Bruce may have come through a letter from the African traveller (11 January 1774, D.T.C. I., pp. 67–8), forwarded by Zoffany in Florence, seeking his help in getting Bruce's drawings through the Customs. Zoffany adds, ‘Your book of the last voyage [i.e. Hawkesworth] goes off here amazingly, and I hear it is to be translated’.—<name type="person" key="name-402051">W. T. Whitley</name>, <hi rend="i">Artists and their Friends in England, 1700–1799</hi> (London 1928), I, p. 296.</p></note> Banks, however, was in full career, and had more staying power than Bruce. He was elected to the Society of Dilettanti, whose interests were allegedly in art, but more particularly social.<note xml:id="fn3-100" n="3"><p>He was proposed by ‘Athenian’ Stuart, who comes into the Banks-Cook story otherwise in one or two minor ways.—Cook II, pp. xli and 609, n. 3. He was certainly among friends. It is recorded that on 6 December 1778—he had just become President of the Royal Society—‘L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Sandwich &amp; Mr Banks having called this respectable Society by the disrespectful name of Club were fined a bumper each which they drank with all proper humility. Lord Mulgrave do. do.’—Cust, <hi rend="i">History of the Society of Dilettanti</hi> (London 1898), p. 35.</p></note> The Society of Arts, or to give it its full title, the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, with its strong technological leaning, was a body to which of course he already belonged, having been accepted as early as 1761, in his first year at Oxford;<note xml:id="fn4-100" n="4"><p>The precise date was 21 October 1761 (the Curator-Librarian of the Royal Society of Arts, Mr D. G. C. Allan, has kindly informed me), three weeks after the death of his father. His application to this Society may therefore have been one of his first serious independent acts.</p></note> but perhaps the Society of Arts lacked conviviality. He was elected to the Council of the Royal Society. He had his autumns at Revesby — he was a systematic estate manager — and there was the shooting and fishing; one might say that Joseph Banks was settling down. He was also dragged into
						<pb xml:id="n142" n="101"/>
						the public view for the purpose of buffoonery in a manner more appropriate to the eighteenth century than to our own. Hawkesworth's three guinea three volume account of the recent voyages had appeared midway through 1773. The improper poets had been a little slow to get up steam, but by the beginning of 1774<note xml:id="fn1-101" n="1"><p>There is a quite minor—a minimal—bibliographical point to be raised here. The dates of the squibs quoted below are all given on the title-pages as 1774, and <name type="person" key="name-402034">Sir Maurice Holmes</name>'s Cook bibliography follows this. But a copy of the third edition of the <hi rend="i">Epistle from Oberea</hi>, the first of them, in the ATL has on the title-page also the inscription ‘Spilsby Society, Dec<hi rend="sup">r</hi> 29<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 73’ (Spilsby is a village in the eastern part of Lincolnshire). The Introduction is dated Sept. 20th, 1773, and the Introduction to the <hi rend="i">Epistle from Mr. Banks</hi>, which followed it, ‘Dec. 20, 1773; so it is possible that in printing they were post-dated.</p></note> they had gone into production, stimulated by what one of them called ‘Doctor Hawkesworth's very luscious descriptions’. Banks of course was an obvious butt: a shilling would buy <name type="person" key="name-401963">Major John Scott</name>'s <hi rend="i">Epistle from Oberea, Queen of Otaheite to Joseph Banks, Esq. Translated by T.Q.Z. Esq. Professor of the Otaheite Language in Dublin, and of all the Languages of the undiscovered Islands in the South Sea; And enriched with Historical &amp; Explanatory Notes.</hi> It was announced in the introduction that to facilitate the labours of those curious to study the Tahitian language, the professor would shortly be publishing a complete grammar and dictionary, which would ‘be printed on the same Paper, and with the same Letter as Doctor Hawkesworth's celebrated Voyages, and will be ready to be delivered next Spring for the <hi rend="i">moderate</hi> Price of Three Guineas’. So much for Hawkesworth. Banks was taken at more length. It was the sort of thing that might be expected — even as fugitive verse not of a very high standard, though aimed accurately enough at the public taste:</p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>Read, or oh! say, does some more amorous fair</l>
          <l>Prevent <hi rend="i">Opano</hi>, and engage his care?</l>
          <l>I <hi rend="i">Oberea</hi>, from the southern main</l>
          <l>Of slighted vows, of injur'd faith complain.</l>
        </lg>
        <p>* * *</p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>Ah! I remember on the river's side,</l>
          <l>Whose bubbling waters 'twixt the mountains glide,</l>
          <l>A bread-tree stands, on which with sharpen'd stone,</l>
          <l>To thy dear name I deign'd unite my own.</l>
          <l>Grow, bread-tree, grow, nor envious hand remove</l>
          <l>The sculptur'd symbols of my constant love.</l>
        </lg>
        <p>There was a large mass of footnotes, mainly from Hawkesworth and Ovid. Ovid was still fashionable, and the <hi rend="i">Amores</hi> seemed à <hi rend="i">propos.</hi> Carried away by his own wit, or in response to an irresistible
						<pb xml:id="n143" n="102"/>
						demand (for this squib ran into a fourth edition), Major Scott then penned <hi rend="i">An Epistle from Mr. Banks, Voyager, Monster-Hunter, &amp; Amoroso:</hi></p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>Carv'd is thy name upon the bread-tree's rind?</l>
          <l>Thy face, thy soul, are carv'd upon my mind;</l>
          <l>And, well I ween, blest produce of thy charms,</l>
          <l>My image lives and prattles in thy arms.</l>
        </lg>
        <p>And followed that still with <hi rend="i">A Second Letter from Oberea:</hi></p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>The children grow in stature and in grace,</l>
          <l>While all the father blooms in either face….</l>
          <l>And when I weep I almost hear them say</l>
          <l>Why, cruel, went our Father far away;</l>
        </lg>
        <p>* * *</p>
        <lg type="verse">
          <l>Yet think at least my copious tears you see,</l>
          <l>And spare one thought from Botany for me….</l>
          <l>Think on the raptures which we once have known,</l>
          <l>And waft one sigh to <hi rend="i">Otaheite's</hi> throne.</l>
        </lg>
        <p>The samples are enough. Delicacy was not the Major's strong point, and if he had read Banks's journal he would not have been misled on the relations between his hero and heroine: that did not matter, but he became very repetitive and excessively tedious. He does not figure in the grand procession of English poetry; he does nevertheless witness to the fact that Banks was a prominent enough figure to take rewarding liberties with.</p>
        <p>Then came the Event, the vast excitement, of 1774. In July (to offset Abyssinian Bruce) returned from the South Sea Captain <name key="name-101199" type="person">Tobias Furneaux</name>, Cook's second in command, with the <hi rend="i">Adventure</hi>, with news from Tahiti — everybody had been enquiring after Banks — and with that best ethnological specimen of all, a veritable Tahitian, the simple and sweet-tempered <name key="name-402082" type="person">Omai</name>. What to do with Omai? The extent to which Banks had regained his ground with Sandwich we may now see: Omai was handed over to him. This was magnificent; at last he had something which none of the menagerie-keepers among his neighbours could hope to match: something to take the place of poor <name key="name-101191" type="person">Tupaia</name>. Like the rarest of exotic plants, Omai was borne off for the inspection of the king: ‘How do, King Tosh!’ he exclaimed upon his introduction, with true courtesy. The king made the sensible suggestion that he should be inoculated against smallpox. It was done; he recovered, was lodged near Banks, and became the darling of social London. Even Solander was excited enough to write a letter about him, with a few odd phrases. Omai, he said, had been living ‘as a private Gentleman
						<pb xml:id="n144" n="103"/>
						of as mall fortune’ on Huaheine; he had parted from his own country in high spirits; he was aged 21 or 22. ‘When he saw M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks who happen'd to have no powdre in his hair he knew him instantly…. It has been very pleasing to us, to him and many others, that both M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks, myself, and M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks's servant James have not forgot our South Sea Language. So we all can keep up a Conversation with him…. Omai is [a] sensible communicative Man, so he is a valuable acquisition…. Omai don't yet speak any english, but I think he will soon learn it, as he has got several words and begins to pronounce S tolerably well…. He is well behaved, easy in his Manners, and remarkably complaisant to the Ladies’.<note xml:id="fn1-103" n="1"><p>To an unnamed correspondent, 19 August 1774, ATL <hi rend="i">Holograph Letters and Documents of and relative to Captain James Cook.</hi></p></note> Lord Sandwich and Mr Banks, he added, were now quite cordial again. As Omai's visit extended, and his English improved, it became apparent that he was not very sensible; but his manners passed from ease to elegance; he visited the House of Lords and managed like any gentleman the sword the king had given him; he dined with the great, he dined with Dr Burney and Dr Johnson; he went to stay with Lord Sandwich at Hinchingbrooke; Miss Burney put him into her diary, Mrs Thrale put him into <hi rend="i">Thraliana</hi>, Cowper put him into <hi rend="i">The Task</hi>; Reynolds painted his portrait; the muse descended upon Major Scott again, with quite colossally tedious results. Omai in fact was to London all that Bougainville's Ahutoru had been to Paris five years before. Perhaps the Romantic Movement got more from Ahutoru than from Omai; the ‘noble savage’ was, after all, more diligently cultivated in France than in England.</p>
        <p>Kew, the library and herbarium at New Burlington Street, the meetings of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> and its Council, the dinners of the Royal Society Club, the Dilettanti, the management of Omai, the superintendence, even at a distance, of the Revesby estate, the ordinary demands of the season and of society — here was enough to keep busy a person who was not content merely to be a landed proprietor living in London. It was an extremely agreeable life, and the summer excursions still kept on. We have a record of one in Yorkshire, in the reminiscences of George Colman the younger, who at the age of thirteen was taken by his father on a journey full of the ingredients of joy. The elder George Colman was a popular play wright and a successful theatrical manager, well-off and highly regarded in society. It was in the early summer<note xml:id="fn2-103" n="2"><p>Or possibly late spring. Colman says midsummer, but Banks spent June and July on two (so it would appear) yachting parties with Sandwich. See the following pages.</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n145" n="104"/>
						of 1775 that the two Colmans, Constantine Phipps and his young brother Augustus, Omai and Banks all piled into Banks's enormous travelling coach with a vast amount of nautical luggage belonging to Phipps, who was transporting it to the family seat at Mulgrave, and still more, not nautical, which belonged to Banks, large boxes included for anything he might collect on the way. Other encumbrances mentioned by Colman indicate the close touch with applied science that was maintained by the proprietor. ‘In particular there was a remarkably heavy <hi rend="i">safety-chain</hi>, — a drag chain upon a newly constructed principle, to obviate the possibility of danger in going down a hill; — it snapp'd short, however, in our very first descent; whereby the carriage ran over the post-boy, who drove the wheelers, and the <hi rend="i">chain of safety</hi> very nearly crush'd him to death. — It boasted, also, an internal piece of machinery with a hard name — a <hi rend="i">hippopedometer</hi>, or some such Greek coinage, — by which a traveller might ascertain the precise rate at which he was going, in the moment of his consulting it: this also broke, in the first ten miles of our journey; whereat the philosopher to whom it belong'd was the only person who lost his philosophy…. Our progress, under all its cumbrous circumstances, was still further retarded by Sir Joseph's indefatigable botany: — we never saw a tree with an unusual branch, or a strange weed, or anything singular in the vegetable world, but a halt was immediately order'd; — out jump'd Sir Joseph; out jump'd the two boys, (Augustus and myself,) after him; and out jump'd Omai, after us all’.<note xml:id="fn1-104" n="1"><p>Colman, <hi rend="i">Random Records</hi> (London 1830), I, pp. 157–9.</p></note> At Scarborough Omai took George for an early morning bathe, carrying him seaward on his back; between Whitby and Mulgrave the heavy coach got on the sands in the dusk, with a rising wind and a roaring sea, and then behind frightened horses into the surf, whence the postilions with great difficulty rescued it and its inmates; at Mulgrave the whole party stayed awhile. Omai shot grouse and barn yard fowl with equal enthusiasm, but mainly the latter; Banks lectured the boys nightly on the Linnaean system, cutting up a cauliflower for illustration, and sent them out in the morning for plants. The researches of the elders were devoted to opening ancient barrows, a particular hobby with Phipps. This employment entailed all-day expeditions into the fields, and open-air cooking; Banks shone at making stews, ‘in a tin machine’, Omai at baking in an earth-oven after the Tahitian mode, with buttered paper for plantain leaves and potatoes for yams. Everything was admirably
						<pb xml:id="n146" n="105"/>
						good-humoured. From Mulgrave they moved on to Skelton Castle,<note xml:id="fn1-105" n="1"><p>Near Skelton Castle was the village of Kirkleathem, where Colman mentions that the party met a venerable old man of distinguished deportment, the father of Captain Cook. It is doubtful whether James Cook the elder ever lived at Kirkleathem, but the village was not far from Redcar, where it is understood he did live, with his married daughter Margaret Fleck. He died in 1778, at the age of 84.</p></note> where the Colmans left their cheerful companions.</p>
        <p>Banks was in London again only a few days before going off on two further expeditions. The first was a six weeks’ trip, in June and July, from Deptford to Plymouth and back with Sandwich in the Admiralty yacht <hi rend="i">Augusta</hi>, on the First Lord's visitation of the royal dockyards.<note xml:id="fn2-105" n="2"><p>Banks kept a semi-facetious journal of this trip, 2 June-14 July 1775, now at Hinchingbrooke among the Sandwich papers.</p></note> Sandwich's labours, and Banks's amusements, were touched with a different excitement which could not fail to have, for Banks, a double edge. Letters had arrived from the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, letters sent from the Cape. Solander wrote to his friend:</p>
        <q>…. As a Copy of Capt Cooks Letter was sent down to L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Sandwich, I take it for granted you know all concerning his Voyage…. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Penneck has sent M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forsters Letter to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Barrington and made the following Abstract: 260 new Plants, 200 new animals — 71° 10’ farthest S<hi rend="sup">th</hi> — no continent — Many Islands, some 80 Leagues long — The Bola Bola savage an [in] corrigible Blockhead — Glorious Voyage — No man lost by sickness. <note xml:id="fn3-105" n="3"><p>Solander to Banks, 28 June 1775; ML Banks Papers, J 1–4. This has a pencilled endorsement in a hand unknown to me, ‘Sir J B on road from Portsmouth to Plymouth?’, which does not fit the known chronology.</p></note></q>
        <p>Glorious voyage indeed! — for those who had made it, and for those who could think of it with an unentangled mind. How long would it be till the ship herself reached home? The waiting time was filled by a second yachting trip down Channel, with Sandwich, his virtual wife the beautiful and charming Martha Ray, Phipps, Augustus Phipps and Omai — a trip broken up by the tremendous news. Cook was back. Solander again sent the unofficial tidings.</p>
        <q>Two oClock Monday — This Moment Capt Cook is arrived. I have not yet had an opertunity of conversing with him, as he is still in the board-room [i.e. of the Admiralty] — giving an account of himself &amp;co. He looks as well as ever. By and by, I shall be able to say a little more — Give my Compl<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to Miss Ray and tell her I have made a Visitation to her Birds and found them all well.</q>
        <q>Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> Cook desires his best Compl<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to You, he expressed himself in the most friendly manner towards you, that could be; he said: nothing could have added to the satisfaction he has had, in making this tour but having had your company. He has some Birds, in Sp.[irits of] V. [inum] for you &amp;c &amp;c that he would have wrote to you himself about,
						<pb xml:id="n147" n="106"/>
						if he had not been kept too long at the Admiralty and at the same time wishing to see his wife. He rather looks better than when he left England. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hodges came up in his chaise, I saw him and his Drawings. He has great many portraits — some very good — He has two of my friend Tayoa. Otu is well looking man — Orithi whom they call Ohiriri was really a handsome man according to his pictures.</q>
        <q>Fo[r]ster Sen<hi rend="sup">r</hi> and Jun<hi rend="sup">r</hi> are also come up, but I have not seen them, they did not call at the Admiralty.</q>
        <q>Hodges says the Ladies of Otaheite &amp; Society Isl<hi rend="sup">ds</hi> are the more hansomer they have seen. But the Man of the Marquesas seem[s] to carry the prize. Hodges seems to be a very well behaved young man. All our friends are well</q>
        <q>Inclosed You will find a Letter from Ch’ Clark….<note xml:id="fn1-106" n="1"><p>ML Banks Papers, L 1–4. The letter is undated, but the Monday on which it was written must have been 1 August.</p></note></q>
        <p>He added a few remarks on Cook's maps, which he had seen, and on some of the islands he had heard about.</p>
        <p>Then there was Clerke's letter, written on board the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, ‘Sunday Morn: 5 o'clock’:</p>
        <q>We're now past Portland, with a fine fresh NW Gale and a young flood Tide, so that in a very few Hours we shall anchor at Spithead from our Continent hunting expedition. I will not now set about relating any of the particulars of our Voyage, as I hope very soon to have the Honour and happiness of paying my personal respects, when I can give you a much clearer idea of any matters you think worth inquiring after, than its possible to do at this distance.</q>
        <q>I hope I need not assure you that it is utterly out of the power of length of time, or distance of space, to eradicate or in the least alleviate the gratitude your friendly offices to me has created. I assure you I've devoted some days to your service in very distant parts of the Globe; the result of which I hope will give you some satisfaction; at least it will convince you of my intentions and endeavours in that particular. I shall send this away by our civil Gentry, who will fly to Town with all the sail they can possibly make. God bless you send me one Line just to tell me you're alive and well, if that is the case, for I'm as great a stranger to all matters in England as tho’ I had been these 3 Years underground — so if I recieve no intelligence from you I shall draw bad conclusions and clap on my suit of black; but you know I never despair, but always look for the best, therefore hope and flatter myself this will find you alive and happy, which that it may, is the sincerest Hope and Wish of, Dear Sir, Your Gratefully Oblig'd &amp; most H'ble Serv<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Cha<hi rend="sup">s</hi> Cler<hi rend="sup">ke</hi>.</q>
        <q>Excuse the Paper, its gilt I assure you, but the Cockroaches have piss'd upon it. — We're terribly busy — you know a Man of War. My respects and every social wish to the good Doctor. I'll write him as soon
						<pb xml:id="n148" n="107"/>
						as possible — here's too much damning of Eyes &amp; Limbs to do any thing now.<note xml:id="fn1-107" n="1"><p>ML Banks Papers, II, f.4. The Sunday of Clerke's writing was 31 July.</p></note></q>
        <p>These were greetings such as any man might have been proud and glad to have. His friends nourished none but the warmest thoughts of him: Cook wished he had been on the voyage. Sandwich and Miss Ray hurried up to London; Banks, with every inducement of friendship and curiosity, remained where he was, and remained for a month.<note xml:id="fn2-107" n="2"><p>Unless the yachting was continued with Phipps and Omai. But he certainly remained away from London: Solander's next letter is dated 14 August, and endorsed by Banks as received on the 20th and answered on the 25th. One would give much for his answers. A third letter from Solander, 22 August, includes the greeting, ‘My best Compl<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> to Capt Phipps, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Augustus, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Omai….’—Webster coll.</p></note> We have not his answers to these letters; he may have felt under some obligation to Phipps and Omai, but it is much more likely that his principal sensation was embarrassment. When he had been embarrassed about <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name>, he did nothing; and now he did nothing. The conviction must have forced itself upon him that he had been a fool. He had made one of the great refusals; he had missed one of the most remarkable voyages in the history of the world; and Cook and Clerke brought him back not reproaches but specimens for his natural history collection. Solander's next letter could not have added to his self-satisfaction:</p>
        <q>Our Expedition down to the Resolution, made yesterday quite a feast to all who were concerned. We set out early from the Tower, review'd some of the Transports; Visited Deptford yard; went on board the Experiment, afterwards to Wolwich, where we took on board Miss Ray &amp;co, and then proceeded to the Galleon's where we were wellcomed on board of the Resolution — and Lord Sandwich made many of them quite happy.</q>
        <q>Providentially old Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> Clements died 2 or 3 days ago, by which a Captain's place of Greenwich was made Vacant. This was given to Capt Cook, and a promise of Employ whenever he should ask for it. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Cooper<note xml:id="fn3-107" n="3"><p>First lieutenant of the <hi rend="i">Resolution.</hi></p></note> was made Master and Commander. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> <name key="name-134285" type="person">Clerke</name> was promised the command of the Resolution to carry M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Omai home….</q>
        <q>All our friends look as well as if they had been all the while in clover. All inquired after You. In fact we had a glorious day and long'd for nothing but You &amp; M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Omai. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Edgcomb &amp; his Marines made a fine appearance. — L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Sandwich asked the Officers afterwards to dine with us at Woolwich.</q>
        <q>Most of our time, yesterday on board, was taken up in ceremonies, so I had not much time to see their curious collections. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Clerke shew'd me some drawings of Birds, made by a Midshipman, not bad, which I
						<pb xml:id="n149" n="108"/>
						believe he intends for you. I was told that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Anderson one of the Surgeons Mates, has made a good Botanical Collection, but I did not see him. There were on board 3 live Otaheite Dogs, the ugliest &amp; most stupid of all the Canine tribe. Forster had on board the following Live Stock: a Springe Bock from the Cape, a Surikate, two Eagles, &amp; several small Birds, all from the Cape. I believe he intends these for the Queen. If I except Cooper &amp; 2 of the new made Lieutenants I believe the whole Ship's Company will go out again. Pickersgill made the Ladies sick by shewing them the New Zealand head of which 2 or 3 slices were broiled and eat on board of the Ship. It is preserved in Spirit and I propose to get it for Hunter, who goes down with me to morrow on purpose, when we expect the Ship will be at Deptford….<note xml:id="fn1-108" n="1"><p>London, 14 August 1775. ML Banks Papers, M 1–4. ‘Hunter’ was the famous surgeon and anatomist. Cf. another letter from Solander, 22 August 1775: ‘… Several of the Resolutions Men have called at Your house, to offer you their curiosities:—Tyrrell was here this Morning…. Capt Cook has sent all his curiosities to my apartments at the Museum—All his Shells is to go to Lord Bristol—4 Casks have your name on them and I understand they contain Birds &amp; fish, &amp;c the Box D° with Plants from the Cape….’ —Webster coll.</p></note></q>
        <p>Apart from all the enticements touched on by Solander, Banks could not stay away forever. People wanted to see him; he had duties. If he felt foolish, he simply had to master the feeling, and it is clear that the friendliest and most unforced relations were immediately re-established on both sides between himself and his old shipmates. Cook went at his invitation more than once to dine with the Royal Society Club. And the position of authority he had by now come to occupy was important. It was real authority; he could now be as tactful in London as he had been in Tahiti; and he was consulted accordingly. He began to assume — it is a curious development — the functions of a sort of superintending elder brother in relation to some of the concerns of Cook. He became, as it were, a point of reference, a master of the disinterested judgment. This involved him in the awkwardness over the publication of the history of the voyage, which arose from the character of the elder Forster, and in even worse later irritations over this man. Forster was a person of total incapacity in money matters, and of no great scrupulousness either in money matters or in others. He was also a master of the unjustified assumption, the wielder in writing of a fluent but overblown English style, and a harbourer of grudges. He suffered under a continual and plaintive sense of injustice, and did not hesitate to make a tool, in either unscrupulousness or complaint, of his rather more attractive son George. Undoubtedly he had a good deal of learning, unmixed with any sense of proportion whatever. He had been a difficult companion on shipboard,
						<pb xml:id="n150" n="109"/>
						officious and censorious. He now alleged that at £4000 he had been quite inadequately paid; that Sandwich had promised him that he should both write the history of the voyage and monopolise the profit therefrom; and that he should subsequently receive employment for life. Granted that the man had a family to provide for, this was hardly the way to provide for it. Certainly the possibility of his being an official historian had been entertained, at a somewhat smaller reward than he fancied his due;<note xml:id="fn1-109" n="1"><p>Solander probably had the matter right, so far as Sandwich was concerned, when he wrote to Banks, 5 September 1775, ‘Lord Sandwich has desired him to, by way of specimen, send in some Sheets, containing an account of what happened in <name key="name-400763" type="place">Dusky Bay</name>, New Zealand. If approv'd of, he is to write the account of the Voyage; and he is to have ½ the profits &amp; ½ to Captain Cook’.—D.T.C. I, p. 99. In the same letter Solander remarks, ‘Mr Forster overwhelms me with civilities upon your account. He is of all men I know either the most open or the greatest fool’. It looks from a letter from <name type="person" key="name-123817">George Forster</name> to Banks, 4 January 1778, as if Forster had erected a cloud castle on some vague, hypothetical but hopeful words of Barrington's before the voyage.—ibid., p. 163. There is an immense letter from <name type="person" key="name-124833">J. R. Forster</name> to Banks, undated but probably early 1778, traversing the whole story from his point of view, and in elevated terms, which lends colour to this supposition.—ibid., pp. 171–81. See also George Forster's <hi rend="i">Letter to the</hi> … <hi rend="i">Earl of Sandwich</hi> referred to below.</p></note> and certainly after due consideration it had been rejected — a decision for which we may be extremely grateful. Cook preferred to do his own writing, with a moderate amount of revision from Canon Douglas of Windsor. Forster was furious with Cook, with Sandwich, with printers and engravers: at last — how could it have been avoided? — with Banks.<note xml:id="fn2-109" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name> wrote to Sandwich, 5 June 1776, ‘Dr Forster hath just now call'd upon me in excellent humour both with your Lordship &amp;cap<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Cooke the poor man having now transferr'd his jealousy to M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks, who he conceives to have done him ill offices with your Lordship….’—Sandwich Papers, Hinchingbrooke.</p></note> Nevertheless, in letter upon letter, then and thereafter, he made Banks the recipient of his outraged and injured feelings: he would appeal to the public; he would expose the infamy of Cook — who would ‘be proved to have forfeited the Appelations and the Characters of a Gentleman’ — and of Sandwich, who had ‘endeavoured to ruin me by the weight of His power and opulence’.<note xml:id="fn3-109" n="3"><p>The letter from which these last words are taken is very typical of Forster, and may be here given in full: ‘Dear Sir, Your unexpected absence out of town threw my Son and me into the disagreeable circumstance to sell for 350£ what even to booksellers would have been worth £750. Thus at the loss of £400 I have extricated myself out of the most pressing difficulties. But necessity has no Law. Since You decline, for good reasons to intercede in my favour, I shall be obliged to appeal to the public &amp; lay before this impartial Judge, an infamous Transaction of a Man, who has endeavoured to ruin me by the weight of His power &amp; opulence &amp; I hope 5000 Copies shall inform all England of this dark iniquitous transaction &amp; perhaps do more, than all my hitherto passive conduct could operate: for not one of the circumstances shall be omitted in it which have served to bring about such a consummate Scheme of bad actions. My son is gone for a few weeks to Paris, on some private business; as soon as he comes back, he shall wait on You with my whole Collection, which is not yet searched, &amp; You may have whatever You shall want of it. Being convinced of Y<hi rend="sup">r</hi> friendship and generosity I shall never forget Y<hi rend="sup">r</hi> benevolence, and ever shall be Y<hi rend="sup">r</hi> most obliged affectionate humble Serv<hi rend="sup">t</hi> J. R. Forster’.—Endorsed by Banks as received 7 October 1777. ML Banks Papers, R 1–3.</p></note></p>
        <pb xml:id="n151" n="110"/>
        <p>To Sandwich himself <name type="person" key="name-123817">George Forster</name> was later, with an excess of effrontery, impelled to write a public letter, attributing the betrayal at bottom to the influence of Miss Ray.<note xml:id="fn1-110" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">A Letter to the right honourable the Earl of Sandwich, First Lord Commissioner of the Board of Admiralty, &amp;c. From George Forster, F.R.S.</hi> London 1778.</p></note></p>
        <p>For this fury and this insolence both Banks and Sandwich, it seems, were willing to make allowances. Forster was a foreigner and a natural historian, and his threats were empty enough. Within the community of science Banks was bound to act as his patron, so far as that was possible. He was allowed the rights to German and French translations of Cook's book and to use a number of the engravings; and, to aid him in the compilation of his own scientific <hi rend="i">Observations</hi><note xml:id="fn2-110" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Observations made during a Voyage Round the World, on Physical Geography, Natural History, and Ethic Philosophy.</hi> London, 1778.</p></note> he was supplied with proof-sheets of Cook's account. He had kept a journal; and from this George, who was not included in the agreement his father had made, was set to compose a Forster book which would beat the official one to the public — which it did by about six weeks. While all this was going on both the Forsters were given the run of Banks's library and collections, together with the full use of his premises while they laboured over the description and publication of their own gatherings. Their first production was found to be largely the work of <name type="person" key="name-170595">Anders Sparrman</name>, the Swedish naturalist whom Forster had engaged as an assistant at the Cape; their later ones owed a great deal to the plundering of Solander's manuscripts from the first voyage.<note xml:id="fn3-110" n="3"><p><name type="person" key="name-401817">Elmer Drew Merrill</name>, <hi rend="i">The Botany of Cook's Voyages</hi> (Waltham,Mass. 1954),pp. 186,201ff.</p></note> Banks had to forbid them the house. But he still came rather reluctantly to the rescue when the cries of despair were too heart-rending. In August 1776 he paid four hundred guineas for George's drawings made on the voyage — a sum which was accepted ‘with pleasure’, wrote Forster.<note xml:id="fn4-110" n="4"><p><name type="person" key="name-124833">J. R. Forster</name> to Banks, 9 August 1776, D.T.C. I, p. 132.</p></note> Eighteen months later there was another letter: ‘Though You have declined it before to assist me, I come however to implore Y<hi rend="sup">r</hi> friendly assistance. My affairs are at this moment in a Situation that makes me shudder, for it is only the distress of the moment; could I but gain time, I should certainly be able to extricate myself. My litterary productions and the sale of my artificial and natural Curiosities, for which I am entered into a negotiation with a powerful Sovereign abroad, are more than sufficient to give me relief. Be therefore exorable Dear Sir and lend me a helping hand, and You shall experience not to have bestowed Your friendly assistance to an ungrateful man’.<note xml:id="fn5-110" n="5"><p>Forster to Banks, 7 February 1778, ML Banks Papers, S 1–2.</p></note> And so on. In September 1778 he was trying to
						<pb xml:id="n152" n="111"/>
						sell Banks his shells; he was putting up some scheme about timber for masts to Stephens, the Admiralty secretary (‘But I'll advise my Correspondents to conclude a bargain rather with France than with the ungrateful English Admiralty’); he had proposed to Lord North a plan for funding two millions sterling without taxing the public (‘I begged only Secrecy in case my plan were rejected and I stipulated a Sum and an Annuity if it were adopted…. But I have some Notion, that L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> North will not be long at the head of the Treasury and I shall reserve my plan for his Successor. To whom I can likewise offer 10,000 from a foreign Prince…. I could serve the Public, if L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Sandwich had not given me a bad character, which prevents me from being employed in the Service of this Kingdom’.)<note xml:id="fn1-111" n="1"><p>26 September 1778; endorsed by Banks ‘saw him’. ML Banks Papers, T 1–4.</p></note> Banks lent the near-lunatic £250, apparently about this time, and the long-suffering George having been able to secure a professorship for him at Halle, he fortunately left the country.<note xml:id="fn2-111" n="2"><p>This £250 had a later history. Banks did not expect to get it back, but when he found that the Duke of Brunswick had been induced to come to Forster's rescue, and that Forster had omitted it from his list of debts, he thought it was time to demand some security, both from the father and the son. His letter to Forster on the subject, 20 May 1782 (ML Banks Papers, A 1–2) is a model of moderation and good-humoured expostulation. George wrote a long letter from Vilna to Pennant in 1787, explaining with absurd indignation that he ‘declined entering into this obligation, which, as it would have put me entirely in his power, might have ruined me, without satisfying him, and for ever rendered me incapable of acquiring the means of acquitting my father's debt, which my inclination, more strongly sollicits me to do, than any bond or paper security’. (To Pennant, 5 March 1787, ibid., Z 1–11). Banks's annoyance was added to by Forster's allegations in the <hi rend="i">Göttingen Magazin</hi> that he and not Cook deserved the credit for the prevention of scurvy on the <hi rend="i">Resolution</hi>, and that he should have had the Copley Medal that the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> had awarded to Cook; and by his ill-natured attack on Solander after the latter's death. Banks instructed a Hamburg solicitor to take legal action for the payment of the debt, quite unsuccessfully; and after Forster's death, in 1798, let it lapse in favour of the widow.</p></note> What chances George Forster might have had of a useful career in England had been ruined by his father. ‘I have only the satisfaction of recollecting’, he was later to write, ‘that whilst I acted under his direction and by his positive order, the offence I might give, was involuntary, for which, if I now suffer, I stand acquitted in my own mind’.<note xml:id="fn3-111" n="3"><p>George Forster 10 Pennant, 5 March 1787; ML Banks Papers, Z 1–11.</p></note> It is not so easy for others to acquit George of all blame. He held chairs both at Cassel and at Vilna, a place he disliked extremely, and died rather prematurely, a nervously-exhausted revolutionary leader, before his father, in 1794.</p>
        <p>The trouble caused by Forster, tedious, preposterous, exasperating, was still in its early stages when Cook left England for his third voyage, on 11 July 1776. With Banks the personal situation was
						<pb xml:id="n153" n="112"/>
						very different from that in July 1772. Cook had something to say about descriptions of plants that Banks had offered to supply for the journal of the second voyage, now in the press, concluding his letter, ‘S<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Jn<hi rend="sup">o</hi> Pringle writes me that the Council of the Royal Society have decreed me the Prize Medal of this year. I am obliged to you and my other good friends for this unmerited honour’.<note xml:id="fn1-112" n="1"><p>Cook to Banks, 10 July 1776. ML MSS.</p></note> Gore, the companion of the first voyage and the expedition to Iceland, was sailing as Cook's first lieutenant. During his time on shore he had acquired a wife and a child, and he too wrote to Banks, as to the centre of his reliance: ‘The Young one whom you was so kind As to promise an attention To in Case of my Death, is under the Care of the Reverend M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Firebrass of Braintree In Essex, him I have refer'd to you. Inclosed you have my will, and that with a Good will’.<note xml:id="fn2-112" n="2"><p>12. July 1776, ATL <hi rend="i">Miscellaneous material relating to Cook's voyages.</hi></p></note> Gore was not to die, he was to return as commander of the expedition, after the death of Cook and Clerke — the merry Clerke, who was ‘in prosperity or adversity’ Banks's ‘Gratefully Obliged and Devoted Servant’ (no mere form of words), and whose last letter, dictated off the coast of Kamchatka, is perhaps the most moving document in the whole history of Cook's voyages. It was a letter to Banks.<note xml:id="fn3-112" n="3"><p>10 August 1779, dictated to King but signed by Clerke; ML Banks Papers, II, f.11.</p></note> To Banks the Admiralty and the secretary of state were to send the despatches as they came in after many months, from Cook, from Clerke, from the British ambassador at <name key="name-401161" type="place">St Petersburg</name>; to Banks went copies of the messages from the East India Company; it was Banks who would draft the memorial asking for a pension for Elizabeth Cook, Banks who would supervise the publication of the history of the voyage, be consulted by the Admiralty (his crony Sandwich no longer First Lord,<note xml:id="fn4-112" n="4"><p>Though it was Sandwich who made the first move before going out of office: ‘Your advice will be of great use to me in the conduct of this matter’.—Sandwich to Banks, 10 October 1780; D.T.C. I, p. 300.</p></note> but Keppel the political admiral, the enemy of the detested Palliser), be reported to by artist and bookseller; Banks who would see that there was a proper distribution of profits. It is the completion of the process which began after the second voyage; Banks has almost, so to speak, taken over Cook. Even that statement is inadequate. James King, to whom was given the task of completing the account of the third voyage, writes — not without a sad break in his grammar — to the man he esteems his true patron: ‘it is with real pleasure and satisfaction that I look up to you as the common center of we discoverers’.<note xml:id="fn5-112" n="5"><p>King to Banks, ‘Thursday Evening’ [late 1780], D.T.C. I, p. 304.</p></note> Allowing for a certain licence in the sentiments
						<pb xml:id="n154" n="113"/>
						of a man who is pleased, we may agree that Banks has become a common centre.</p>
        <p>But these, in 1776, were things for the future. Meanwhile we are not to consider Mr Banks as exclusively occupied in advising George III on gardening, or sighing over the correspondence of the deplorable Forster. The moments of relaxation were still not few. We come upon our man unexpectedly, as we peruse the memoirs and letters of the time: the dying <name type="person" key="name-401783">David Hume</name>, for example, whose interests lay in quite different directions, adds light to the record. Journeying to Bath this year he stopped at an inn near Newbury, in Hampshire; at the inn was Lord Denbigh, an acquaintance of Hume's fellow-traveller, whom he informed ‘that he, Lord Sandwich, Lord Mulgrave, Mr Banks, and two or three Ladies of Pleasure had pass'd five or six Days there, and intended to pass all this Week and the next in the same Place; that their chief object was to enjoy the trouting Season; that they had been very successful; that Lord Sandwich in particular had caught Trouts near twenty inches long, which gave him incredible Satisfaction….’ Hume proceeded to meditate upon the spectacle of the First Lord of the Admiralty, at a time when the British Empire was in revolt, finding ‘so much Leizure, Tranquillity, Presence of Mind and Magnanimity, as to have Amusement in trouting’, far from his place of business, for three weeks during the most critical season of the year. ‘What an Ornament would it be in a future History to open the glorious Events of the ensuing Year with the Narrative of so singular an incident’.<note xml:id="fn1-113" n="1"><p>Hume to <name type="person" key="name-402237">William Strahan</name>, 10 May 1776; <hi rend="i">Letters</hi> (ed. J. Y. T. Greig, Oxford 1932), II, pp. 318–19. Lord Mulgrave was <name type="person" key="name-170619">Constantine Phipps</name>, who had succeeded to his barony in 1775.</p></note> The events of the ensuing year were not glorious; indeed one week before Cook sailed from Plymouth the rebellious colonies agreed upon their Declaration of Independence. This was not a thing in which Mr Banks took much interest, though no doubt he regretted inglorious events when they came to pass. America, for him, was not the land of Jefferson and Washington and <name type="person" key="name-401763">John Adams</name>; his American names are such as Clayton and Young and Bartram, Turner and Kalm — collectors whose trophies went into the great herbarium. The American whom he knew personally was <name type="person" key="name-017144">Benjamin Franklin</name>, and the mark this one made was not political. Banks, Solander and Blagden were Franklin's companions when he went to Portsmouth in October 1773, to experiment with the effect of oil on a breaking surf; Franklin was of course a Fellow of the Royal Society, much senior to them,
						<pb xml:id="n155" n="114"/>
						and in 1773 a member of its Council. It was Banks who wrote to Franklin in 1784, sending him the Cook commemorative medal.<note xml:id="fn1-114" n="1"><p>Carl van Doren, <hi rend="i"><name type="person" key="name-017144">Benjamin Franklin</name></hi> (London 1939), pp. 434–5, 719. It is perhaps surprising that one comes on no trace in Banks's papers of Jefferson, whose <hi rend="i">Notes on Virginia</hi> would have been the ideal book to him. Apart from politics, there was probably no one on the other side of the Atlantic more akin to Banks in range of interest. But Jefferson never lived in England, nor even visited it.</p></note></p>
        <p>Neglecting events of glory, or their reverse, passing beyond the joys of the trouting party, and Ladies of Pleasure, and the farewell to friends bound for the arctic ice-fields, we may choose, as undoubtedly the most important event for Banks of the year 1776, his move from New Burlington Street to No. 32 Soho Square. This was a large house, at the south-west corner of the square, its back extending to Dean Street. The last few sad remains of eighteenth century Soho Square have still some dignity; in Banks's day, though not indeed the most fashionable part of the town, it was airy and sweet with gardens, and fashionable enough for him and a Venetian Resident; the house itself took after Adam, its elegant drawing-room designed by the remarkable <name type="person" key="name-402010">Robert Adam</name> himself.<note xml:id="fn2-114" n="2"><p>Its demolition in 1937, says <name type="person" key="name-402028">Sir John Summerson</name> <hi rend="i">(Georgian London</hi>, 1945, p. 127), was a national scandal.</p></note> Some people thought meanly of it — there was one person who thought meanly of Banks, his town house and his country house all together: the Hon. John Byng, on tour through England, confided to his diary his disgust at Revesby Abbey, adding, ‘but when a man sets himself up for a wild eccentric character, and (having a great estate, with the comforts of England, at command) can voyage it to Otaheite, and can reside in a corner house in Soho-Square, of course his country seat will be a filthy neglected spot’.<note xml:id="fn3-114" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">The Torringlon Diaries</hi> (1935), II, p. 376. He went on to aim some other ill-natured remarks at people of learning, which illuminate his own character more than Banks's. None the less, ‘We left our cards for Sr J.B.’.—Soho Square, it may be remarked, was a good enough address for all but the most particular, though its supremely aristocratic days, when it was much patronised by ambassadors and the nobility, were rather earlier. Members of the nobility, and persons otherwise distinguished, continued to live there in Banks's time- See, e.g., John Thomas Smith, <hi rend="i">Nollekens and his Times</hi> (ed. W. Whitten, London 1920) I, pp. 37–8.</p></note> Mr Byng's information about the wild eccentric character was rather out of date: although it is regrettably true that Banks had not pulled down his inherited mansion and rebuilt it in the Palladian style, with a portico and an orangery, yet his estate was one of the best-managed in the country; and the corner-house in Soho Square rapidly came to acquire an international fame. For there went the library and the herbarium, ever expanding from east and west and south, from India and China and Malaya and Asia Minor, from Jamaica and Dominica and South Carolina, from
						<pb xml:id="n156" n="115"/>
						Polynesia and Australia and Madagascar, from Switzerland, from Hammersmith and Kew. By 1783 he could afford not to buy the Linnaean collection, which he had been eager to acquire when the Master died in 1778. To Soho Square went also Solander, dividing his time between that centre of learning and the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>. There went also <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name>, an individual in her own right — rapidly becoming indeed a formidable one — to live with her brother and direct the domestic establishment. Mrs Banks, it seems, preferred still to live at Chelsea.<note xml:id="fn1-115" n="1"><p>She died at Soho Square, however, on 27 August 1804.—B.M. Add. MS 33982, f. 111; also Add. MS 6673, p. 107. She was 84 when she died.</p></note> To Soho Square, as time went on, came everybody of scientific note, everybody immersed in scientific studies, to ask advice, to report on work done, to seek patronage, to share in the famous Thursday breakfasts, to listen to Solander while Solander lived, to consult Dryander or Brown, his successors, over the library or the herbarium; thither came explorers like Flinders and Mungo Park, botanical collectors like Masson and Menzies, thither men with a cause at heart, purveyors of curiosities, the deserving and the undeserving, the social and the anti-social, English, Frenchmen, Germans, Swedes. All this, like Banks's accumulating authority, did not come to pass at once; but the foundation was laid in 1776. The library, the herbarium, the personality of the owner, the personality of Solander, were like a fourfold powerful magnet. Nobody came for the Banksian small talk — thiere was none; the conversation might not go very deep at times, but at least it was informed, the conversation of able and often really scientific minds. Sunday evenings were for a more general society, ladies were present; they were informed and entertained alike by Dr Solander, whom all loved, and freely abused when he forgot his appointments, as he freely did. ‘My father has very exactly named him in calling him a philosophical gossip’, wrote Miss Burney.<note xml:id="fn2-115" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Diary and Letters of Madame d'Arblay</hi>, I (1904), p. 318. It is from 1796, long after Solander's death, that we get a curious note on Banks's social abilities. He was by then unquestioned master of the scientific scene; and Farington wrote, ‘Malone observed how difficult it would be to establish a plan for collecting select Society in the way <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name> carried his on. [Reynolds had died in 1792.] Malone only knows three persons who could undertake it; and each is unfit in many respects. Sir Joseph Banks, as President of the Royal Society, and possessing a large fortune, might undertake it; but his knowledge and attention is very much confined to one study, Botany; and his manners are rather coarse and heavy’. The other two persons were Burke and Windham.—<hi rend="i">Farington Diary</hi>, I (London 1922), p. 136.</p></note></p>
        <p>So, very agreeably for those who did not worry about the crash of empires, life proceeded. No doubt there was occasional speculation about Cook, no doubt the conversation, or the gossip, reverted
						<pb xml:id="n157" n="116"/>
						now and again to the old days in the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, when a botanist drew out a dried specimen from the herbarium, or a lady exclaimed over a Tahitian fly-whisk or some carved curio from New Zealand. Beyond the walls of Soho Square the town, as well as the country, had its diversions, and these too were agreeable. Banks and Solander went together to a popular haunt for the unbuttoned hours of science and art, Young Slaughter's Coffee House in St Martin's Lane;<note xml:id="fn1-116" n="1"><p>Whitley, <hi rend="i">Artists and their Friends</hi>, I, p. 296.</p></note> Solander, the treasurer of the ‘Mitre Society of Royal Philosophers’, had the happiness to inform Banks of his election to membership of that august body;<note xml:id="fn2-116" n="2"><p>Solander to Banks, 1 August 1777, ML Banks Papers, O1. This must have been one of the innumerable dining clubs of London.</p></note> Banks himself was elevated by the convivial Dilettanti to their offices of High Steward and secretary, which he was to retain for many years.<note xml:id="fn3-116" n="3"><p>He was elected High Steward, or treasurer, on 1 February 1778, and secretary in March of that year. He remained treasurer till 1794, and secretary till February 1797.—Cust, <hi rend="i">History</hi>, pp. 28–9, 114. As secretary, he kept the Society's marbles in his house till 1784, when some of them, if not all, were presented to the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>. The contents of Banks's house were extremely varied.</p></note> But life was not yet full enough. Dignity and power, in addition to authority, lay just ahead for Joseph Banks. In August 1778 <name type="person" key="name-134394">Sir John Pringle</name> made up his mind to resign the presidency of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>. Who should succeed him? The Society was by no means exclusively a body of scientists — less than a third of its membership, indeed, could be so described; it included a large proportion of the rich and the great, of noblemen who did not disdain to be considered in some sort philosophers, as well as country parsons with an interest in their local archaeology and plants and rocks, and physicians with an interest which went beyond their fees. Of the twenty-one members of Council only eight were men of science.<note xml:id="fn4-116" n="4"><p><name type="person" key="name-402012">Sir Henry Lyons</name>, <hi rend="i">The Royal Society</hi> (Cambridge 1944), p. 197.</p></note> A person of high rank therefore might be thought indicated as Pringle's successor — more particularly as the Royal Society, under Pringle, had fallen out with royalty. It was about lightning-conductors, and Sir John had been tactless enough to inform the king, modestly but firmly, that the President of the Royal Society could not reverse the laws of nature.<note xml:id="fn5-116" n="5"><p>George III ardently supported knobs on top of lightning conductors, against points as invented by the American Benjamin Franklin, and requested Pringle to do the same.— Weld, <hi rend="i">History of the Royal Society</hi> (1848), II, pp. 92–102.</p></note> Little consideration however was given to persons of high rank. As soon as Pringle announced his intention there was talk, and Solander sent a note to Banks: ‘It is true that [Sir John] has given hints about Mr Aubert, but all look to you. Dr Pitcairne and others have desired me to tell you that’.<note xml:id="fn6-116" n="6"><p>11 August [1778]; D.T.C. I, p. 198.</p></note> Again, ‘S<hi rend="sup">r</hi> John Pringle has certainly can-
						<pb xml:id="n158"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP006a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP006a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP006a-g"/><head>Omai, Banks and Solander<lb/>
								<hi rend="i">from the painting by William Parry</hi></head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n159"/>
						<pb xml:id="n160" n="117"/>
						vass'd for M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Aubert, at which every one who I have seen is displeased… If you cannot find out a man of high Rank who will accept of the Chair, you must listen to the voice of the People. All talk of you’.<note xml:id="fn1-117" n="1"><p>17 August [1778]; ibid., p. 199.</p></note> Mr Aubert was an excellent man, and would not have disgraced the chair; he was a wealthy London merchant, and also a very good astronomer who had built himself three different observatories. The contest, therefore, if there was to be one, was to be between two commoners, both with some real pretensions to science. Though Dr Pitcairn and his friends were premature in assuring Banks that all looked to him, it is a little curious that none besides these two was seriously considered. But they were both rich, both non-political, and neither was connected with lightning-conductors. As time went on from August into November feeling rose, and Banks, who was not at all averse to his elevation, thought it wise to do some polite canvassing. ‘Dear Sir’, he wrote to <name type="person" key="name-402043">Thomas Astle</name> the antiquary and keeper of the State Papers, on 22 November, ‘as I have venturd to declare myself a Candidate for the vacant Chair of President of the Royal Society I take the liberty to address you in strong [hopes?] that I shall have your Friendly assistance in the prosecution of that undertaking in which if my Freinds of the Antiquarian Society will support me I have not the least doubt of succeeding in a very creditable manner. as Yet no other Candidate has Started L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Hillsborough has been wrote by a few Members but as the letter has now been absent a long while and as the people who wrote it were but few and had not a very great Weight in the Soc I am inclind to think his Lordship will decline. I shall attempt to see our Freind S<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Jo<hi rend="sup">s</hi> today whose decision in my Favor would be indeed very flattering and surely very decisive — Your very affect Servant Jos: Banks’.<note xml:id="fn2-117" n="2"><p>ML Banks Correspondence, C 181, pp. 5–7. It appears from Banks's letter that he was anxious to get on to his side those gentlemen, like Astle, who were both F.S.A. and F.R.S. ‘Sir Jo<hi rend="sup">B</hi>’, in the last sentence of this letter, is I think <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name>, F.R.S. 1761. Reynolds, however, was not at this time F.S.A. He had been elected in 1772, but not paying his dues, was removed by the Council, and was not re-elected till 1784. There is another, shorter note to <name type="person" key="name-402006">Richard Gough</name>, F.R.S., the director of the Society of Antiquaries from 1775 to 1795. I have seen, in private hands, a number of replies to Banks's letters to other persons.</p></note> This of course was not impeccably true; for Banks knew very well that Aubert had a great deal more support than that unimpressive politician Hillsborough; but it is possible that Aubert had not yet gone out asking for votes. At the end of November the Council met to make its recommendation. If keeping in with the king was important, then Banks was important; and a memorial to the king had been judged the <choice><orig>in-
							<pb xml:id="n161" n="118"/>
							dispensable</orig><reg>indispensable</reg></choice> first step towards both the observation of Venus in 1769 and Phipps's polar voyage in 1773. The candidate had other virtues, of course. Nineteen of the twenty-one members of the Council took part in its deliberations; it decided on Banks; at the Anniversary Meeting that followed, 30 November, he was elected, ‘unanimously to appearance by 220 votes’. The subsequent formal dinner was delayed by the lateness of the new president, who waited for the election of a new secretary: he ‘came in a great hurry, quite out of breath, and sitting down…. said with good humour, but with rather too little dignity ‘I believe never did a President of the Royal Society run so fast before’.<note xml:id="fn1-118" n="1"><p>The quotations are from a letter of Banks's friend <name type="person" key="name-402018">Sir John Cullum</name> to the Rev. Michael Tyson, 7 December 1778, given in <name type="person" key="name-401816">Edward Smith</name>, p. 57.</p></note> He was amply to compensate for that temporary lack of dignity; and the gout-smitten time was to come when those active legs would totally fail him.</p>
        <p>Banks was about to receive another signal honour: to be deemed worthy to sit with Burke and Reynolds and Johnson, and to be elected to the Literary Club. ‘The Club is to meet with the Parliament;’ wrote Johnson to Boswell, ‘we talk of electing Banks, the traveller; he will be a reputable member’.<note xml:id="fn2-118" n="2"><p>21 November 1778; <hi rend="i">Letters of Samuel Johnson</hi> (ed. Chapman), II, p. 272. An earlier letter from Johnson to Bennet Langton, 31 October, had already mentioned the new candidature: ‘Mr Banks desires to be admitted; he will be a very honourable accession’.— ibid., p. 264. Banks's qualifications were certainly not literary. We know very little of his intellectual tastes, if he had any, outside science and light music and plays. Boswell gives us one gleam of light, discussing Johnson's famous passage on lona (‘That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona’, etc.)—‘Sir Joseph Banks, the present respectable President of the Royal Society, told me, he was so much struck on reading it, that he clasped his hands together, and remained for some time in an attitude of silent admiration’.—<hi rend="i">Tour to the Hebrides</hi>, 19 October 1773. As for art, ‘Accuracy of drawing seems to be a principal recommendation to Sir Joseph’.—<hi rend="i">Farington Diary</hi>, I, p. 27. This is not surprising in the patron of Sydney Parkinson and the other botanical draughtsmen. Cf. the following passage: ‘Indeed Sir Joseph Banks used to say that Mrs. Delany's representations of flowers “were the <hi rend="i">only</hi> imitations of nature that he had ever seen, from which he could <hi rend="i">venture</hi> to describe botanically any plant without the least fear of committing an error”’.—<hi rend="i">Autobiography and Correspondence of</hi>…. <hi rend="i">Mrs Delany</hi>, (2nd series, 1862), III, p. 95. Again, some lines from the journal of the tour in Holland, 18 February 1773, describing how he went to see ‘the Princes Cabinet, where were several Pictures, which the Connoisseurs seemed to admire: one of Oxen &amp; a Shepherd painted by Potter, pleased me much: immensely high finished, but absolute nature’. Banks's patronage of that charming topographical draughtsman <name type="person" key="name-401996">Paul Sandby</name> has already been mentioned, and can be understood. See A. P. Oppé, <hi rend="i">The Drawings of Paul and <name type="person" key="name-402048">Thomas Sandby</name></hi> … <hi rend="i">at Windsor Castle</hi> (London and Oxford 1947), <hi rend="i">passim.</hi></p></note> It was <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name> himself who, on 11 December, announced to the candidate that ‘he was <hi rend="i">this Evening</hi> elected a member of the Club at the Turks head Gerard Street’;<note xml:id="fn3-118" n="3"><p>Reynolds to Banks, 11 December 1778. The owner of this letter, Mr Richard Border of Pulborough, Sussex, has kindly allowed me to use it. It has been printed, though not from the original, by <name type="person" key="name-401822">F. W. Hilles</name>, <hi rend="i">Letters of <name type="person" key="name-000645">Sir Joshua Reynolds</name></hi> (Cambridge 1929), p. 67.</p></note> and it was not every man who could say
						<pb xml:id="n162" n="119"/>
						that he had been proposed by Reynolds and seconded by Johnson.<note xml:id="fn1-119" n="1"><p>Leslie and Taylor, <hi rend="i">Reynolds</hi>, II, p. 268.</p></note> Not for very much longer could he be intelligibly identified as ‘Banks, the traveller’; and within a few months more he had taken the final step, without romantic gesture, or alarm to his friends, into a settled stability. On 23 March 1779, at St Andrew's, Holborn, he married <name type="person" key="name-401791">Dorothea Hugessen</name>, the daughter of William Western Hugessen of Provender in the parish of Norton, Kent, ‘a comely and modest Young Lady’ almost sixteen years his junior.<note xml:id="fn2-119" n="2"><p>The phrase quoted is <name type="person" key="name-402018">Sir John Cullum</name>'s; <name type="person" key="name-401816">Edward Smith</name>, p. 62, n. 1. The young lady was born on 8 November 1758.—Dawson MS 47, f.58.</p></note> He was thirty-six; his youth was over.</p>
        <p>It had been a youth fortunate, interesting, exciting; crowned, one supposes, in a social way, with success. Banks had done whatever he really wanted to do, with one notable exception. He had not gone on Cook's second voyage. But, we are compelled to ask, if he wanted to go only with that large entourage of his own, did he really want to go? Was his refusal a tribute paid to science, or a tribute paid to Joseph Banks? He had had plenty of time to think over his decision. Psychological springs go deep, and one hesitates to give an assured answer, a hundred and eighty years later, to such a query. There must have been times when he was bitten by regret, when he made hypothetical statements to himself as well as to his friends, but to say that is not to answer yes or no. To the end of his life, through all the multifarious and distracting and benevolent activities in which he was engaged, he maintained his position; we have the absurd statement passed on to <name type="person" key="name-110500">Robert Brown</name>, the last of his librarians, some time before he died;<note xml:id="fn3-119" n="3"><p>Of this statement Dr Cameron says <hi rend="i">(Sir Joseph Banks</hi>, p. 51), ‘In Banks's old age, at the request of his friend Robert Brown, the botanist, he dictated his recollections of his disappointment and the dispute’; and Dr Cameron prints it in his Appendix C, pp. 294–6. The statement is certainly in Brown's handwriting, and is bound up with his manuscript correspondence in the Botanical Library of the British Museum (Natural History), I, 17. It is undated, but probably was written in the last decade of Banks's life, as Brown did not succeed Dryander as his librarian till 1810. There is nothing to show that Banks dictated it to Brown, or that Brown asked for it: it is in fact a copy of the introduction to Banks's Iceland journal (see p. 84 above). Possibly, even, it was copied after Banks's death, as he willed all his books and papers to Brown for the latter's life; but with this reserve I let my statement in the text stand.</p></note> we have the bitter attack on Palliser, obviously directly derived, in Brougham's book of 1846.<note xml:id="fn4-119" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Lives of Men of Letters and Science</hi>, II, pp. 360–1.</p></note> This is self-justification; we need have no doubt that Banks had persuaded himself that every word he uttered on the subject was literally true; but we have no need
						<pb xml:id="n163" n="120"/>
						to believe him. The significant thing is that throughout his forty later years the subject remained alive to him, in the same way that the voyage that he did go on remained alive. And this voyage, the three years in the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, remained also one of the things that gave his life a value to himself. It was a positive good; it was his, but he could contemplate it almost with a disinterested satisfaction, as a service rendered to mankind. ‘I may flatter myself’, he wrote in 1782, ‘that being the first man of scientific education who undertook a voyage of discovery and that voyage of discovery being the first which turned out satisfactorily in this enlightened age, I was in some measure the first who gave that turn to such voyages’.<note xml:id="fn1-120" n="1"><p>Banks to <name type="person" key="name-401813">Edward Hasted</name>, D.T.C. II, p. 97 (evidently copied from a draft). This was in answer to a letter of 25 February 1782 asking for information for a county history (of Kent, into which Banks came through his marriage). Banks goes on, interestingly though somewhat indecipherably in the original, ‘or rather to their Commander Capt Cook, as guided and directed those which came after, as well as [word illegible] which was personally concern'd’.</p></note> <hi rend="sup">1</hi> He ignores the element of luck, he might have remembered that Bougainville had been accompanied by Commer-son, but he does not much overpraise himself. If the remembrance were to be forced upon him, he would no doubt have argued that Commerson's collections lay unpublished and neglected, and that he might just as well never have made the voyage. The answer to that no doubt would be that nothing scientific that Banks did was published either.</p>
        <p>To that he would have a rejoinder: at least he would have a rejoinder in 1782. He gave it in the letter just quoted, shortly before Solander's death: ‘Botany has been my favourite Science since my childhood; and the reason I have not published the account of my travels is that the first, from want of time necessarily brought on by the many preparations to be made for my second voyage, was intrusted to the care of D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hawkesworth; and since that I have been engag'd in a Botanical work which I hope soon to publish, as I have now near 700 folio plates prepar'd: it is to give an account of all the new plants discovered in my voyage round the world, somewhat above 800’.<note xml:id="fn2-120" n="2"><p>ibid., p. 99</p></note> Solander died of a stroke, amid general grief, on 16 May 1782. The work subsequently stopped. Why should it have stopped? There were the plates, prepared at great expense to Banks, and there were Solander's MS volumes, fair-copied, containing the descriptive text for the whole voyage. As late as 1785, Banks was writing to a Swedish correspondent,</p>
        <q>The botanical work with which I am at present occupied is nearing its conclusion. Solander's name will appear next to mine on the <choice><orig>title-
							<pb xml:id="n164" n="121"/>
							page</orig><reg>titlepage</reg></choice> because everything has been brought together through our common industry. There is hardly a single clause written in it, while he lived, in which he did not have a part. Since all the descriptions were made while the plants were fresh there is nothing left to do beyond completing those drawings which are not yet finished, and entering the synonyms in the books which we did not have with us or have just come out. All that remains to do is so little that it can be completed in two months if only the engraver can be brought to put the finishing touches to it. <note xml:id="fn1-121" n="1"><p>‘Ueber Solander’, pp. 247–8.</p></note></q>
        <p>Yet the great work was never published. It is ridiculous to blame Solander — as he has often been blamed — for sloth. His part was done. If Banks lacked time himself, there were men perfectly capable of seeing a large folio through the press. <name type="person" key="name-401939">Jonas Dryander</name>, who succeeded Solander as Banks's librarian, was one. As for the journal, it was true that Banks had handed it over to Hawkesworth to use as he thought fit; but if Banks had wished to put it into shape and publish it as a separate entity, there was nothing to stop him. There was ample material in his Newfoundland and Iceland journals as well to interest a large public, as he must have been told by those to whom he showed them. Why then did he print nothing, all his life? Or rather, strictly speaking, why were his publications confined to a few articles of a few pages, of which the best known was the ‘Short Account of the Cause of the Disease in Corn, called by Farmers the Blight, the Mildew, and the Rust’ ? One of his biographers sees in him a certain lack of self-confidence,<note xml:id="fn2-121" n="2"><p>Cameron, p. 74, and note from the <hi rend="i">Farington Diary</hi>, I, p. 61: ‘Some think Sir Joseph does not choose to encounter the opinion of the world on the merits of [his work], and, indeed, it is probable ill disposed criticks wd. not be wanting’. But this refers to the botanical work from the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> voyage, Solander's work as well as Banks's, on which Banks could well snap his fingers at the criticks, however ill disposed.</p></note> and some words written much later in his life argue in favour of the supposition: ‘I am scarce able to write my own Language with Correctness, &amp; never presumd to attempt Elegant Composition, Either in Verse or in Prose in that or in any other Tongue’.<note xml:id="fn3-121" n="3"><p>Banks to <name type="person" key="name-401873">Henry Greville</name> [June 1807], B.M. Add. MS 33981, f. 256V.</p></note> True, that was in answer to an invitation to join a Society for Belles Lettres, where the demand on elegance might have been deemed stringent. But it is equally true that the scientific mind has sometimes been frightened of the medium of prose, performed with in public. There were indeed critics who thought the President of the Royal Society was mostly facade. Examples have not been unknown, again, of men thoroughly competent, and quite convinced of their competence, on the practical side of life, who have manifested a curious shrinking from any overt display of their
						<pb xml:id="n165" n="122"/>
						minds. There was certainly no reason why Banks should print his journals, if he did not wish to; presumably he wrote them for himself and his friends; and just as there was a class of educated men in eighteenth century England, like Pennant, who loved authorship and print, so there was another class who, if they could not refrain from writing, regarded print in their own cases as being not quite gentlemanly. To this class Banks possibly, though not probably, belonged. The truth seems to be simply that he did not have a literary mind. He shared with such men, however, one characteristic. They could be generous with information. They would make ‘communications’. He handed his <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> manuscript entire to Hawkesworth, who was getting £6000 out of his editing of sailors'journals; he communicated his observations on the island of Staffa to Pennant to incorporate in the <hi rend="i">Tour in Scotland</hi>. He did give a reason for that. Pennant, he argued to Falconer, the friend of both, had as a traveller a prior right to the Western Islands: ‘I while in that Countrey Lookd for him with assiduity conceiving myself as no more than a poacher who might get leave of the Lord to shoot upon the mannor but in return owd at least the offer of whatever he might Kill’.<note xml:id="fn1-122" n="1"><p>Banks to Falconer, 2 April 1773, Hawley coll. Pennant, in his dedicatory epistle to Banks, was equally polite: ‘You took from me all temptation of envying your superior good fortune, by the liberal declaration you made that the Hebrides were my ground, and yourself, as you pleasantly expressed it, but an interloper. May I meet with such, in all my adventures!’ After such courtesies, the modern student derives a minor but undeniable pleasure from the use, in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, of Banks's own copy of the work, with Pennant's fly-leaf inscription ‘From the Author’, and Banks's name-stamp, the facsimile of his signature.</p></note> His scientific papers are mostly little communications, such as any polite dabbler might produce, to the <hi rend="i">Transactions</hi> of the Linnean Society and the Horticultural Society.</p>
        <p>The question still remains why the scientific work of the great voyage was not completed; for completion meant publication. Banks might possibly have another answer: that he did not need to publish, because anyone competent to profit from the collections or from Solander's work could come and use the herbarium and the library. What serious student had he ever turned away? Was not 32 Soho Square a sort of Mecca to which every pilgrim was welcomed — and where, on Thursdays, he would get breakfast as well? This would have been an inadequate answer, because it is only the minority of men who can go on pilgrimages, and there were a great many natural historians all over Europe to whom Soho Square was as unattainable as Mecca itself. One is compelled, rather to one's surprise, rather against one's will, to the conviction
						<pb xml:id="n166" n="123"/>
						that Banks did not publish because he had lost interest. He had lost interest because of the very nature of his mind; and his mind was never, in relation to science, truly ‘professional’. He was a Gentleman, and an Amateur. With all his collecting journeys and all his collections, all his patronage of men of science,<note xml:id="fn1-123" n="1"><p>We get a hitherto unnoted illustration of this, just as Banks was moving into his maturity, in a letter from <name type="person" key="name-170595">Anders Sparrman</name>, who had been employed by the elder Forster as an assistant on Cook's second voyage, to <name type="person" key="name-123817">George Forster</name>, 25 July 1777: ‘As for Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander please to remember me to them in the best terms; I am very much obliged to the Former for his kind offer of 60L. a year, but it is too small a salary for me to subsist on in England, besides I do not know all that I should have to do. Please to excuse me in the best terms.’—<hi rend="i"><name type="person" key="name-123817">Johann Georg Forsters Briefwechsel</name></hi>… (Leipzig 1829), II, p. 705.</p></note> all his final vast prestige, he remained (in the eighteenth century sense) a dilettante. One might almost unsay some of the things already said, and hold that he had never been educated. One implies here, it is true, that education entails a real discipline of the mind, a devotion to ‘professional’ as exalted from ‘amateur’ standards of intellectual activity. Banks — it was the logic of his birth and wealth, his perfect ability to dispose of himself as he liked, the logic even of his time in history as well as of his place in society — remained the gentleman-amateur. If he had had the mind of Priestley, if he had been a first-rate genius like Cavendish, if he had had the singleness of character of Linnaeus, he would have been a greater man — although a much less representative man. But of course, at running the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> — again at that time in history, when no violent reform in constitution or administration was called for — he was to be superb. His talent was a managing talent. We can see exactly why Sir <name key="name-401277" type="person">Humphry Davy</name> summed up his predecessor in the chair as he did: ‘He was a good-humoured and liberal man, free and various in conversational power, a tolerable botanist, and generally acquainted with natural history. He had not much reading,<note xml:id="fn2-123" n="2"><p>Why, then, the great Banks library, Dryander's catalogue alone of which ran to five octavo volumes and 2464 pages? Simply because it was a scientific library exclusively, a <hi rend="i">Bibliotheca historico-naturalis</hi>. The catalogue appeared between 1796 and 1800.—Banks had certainly read Ossian, as we have seen, and Johnson's <hi rend="i">Tour to the Hebrides</hi>.</p></note> and no profound information. He was always ready to promote the objects of men of science; but he required to be regarded as a patron, and readily swallowed gross flattery. When he gave anecdotes of his voyages he was very entertaining and unaffected. A courtier in character, he was a warm friend to a good King. In his relations to the Royal Society he was too personal, and made his house a circle too like a court’. For Davy came from a quite different stratum of society, Davy was all <choice><orig>con-
							<pb xml:id="n167" n="124"/>
							centration</orig><reg>concentration</reg></choice>, a laboratory man, Davy belonged to — was the maker of— a new age.<note xml:id="fn1-124" n="1"><p>Davy's remarks are in the <hi rend="i">Memoirs of the Life of Sir Humphry Davy, Bart</hi>., by his brother, <name type="person" key="name-401918">John Davy</name> (1836), II, pp. 126–7. Banks was defended against some of them by his warm admirer Sir John Barrow, who thought that the phrases, ‘a tolerable botanist’, ‘a lover of gross flattery’, ‘a house like a court’ were ‘unfounded and unjust’.—<hi rend="i">Sketches of the Royal Society and the Royal Society Club</hi> (1849), p. 40. No one can go through the Banks correspondence without seeing that he was subjected to gross flattery, and apparently had no difficulty in swallowing it; but whether it made any difference to his constitution, in his later life, is a different matter. He certainly preferred to be addressed with due respect and could adopt a lofty tone, but with certain of his difficult and complaining correspondents—e.g. Caley—he exhibited a remarkable forbearance. He was never affected again, so far as one can see, as he had been after the return of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>. <name type="person" key="name-401890">James Britten</name>, after careful study, thought it was clear that Banks ‘had much more botanical knowledge than was at one time supposed’.—Introduction to <hi rend="i">Illustrations of the Botany of Captain Cook's Voyage round the World</hi>, Part III, 1904, last page (this introduction is unpaginated).</p></note></p>
        <p>Banks, we may conclude, had not the instinct of thoroughness. It was one matter to keep a journal, and to dash down in it at high speed the glowing, the exciting, the intoxicating things that happened. To punctuate it was another matter. It would have been another thing altogether to brood over the shape of sentences and the sound of words, to make them answer exactly to the least nuance of experience and thought. But, one might plead, on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, or on the beach at <name key="name-134499" type="place">Matavai Bay</name>, experience was not taken in nuances; and when Banks does set out to punctuate one wishes he had not. Are we to make our criterion a literary one? It may be argued that at times he was thorough, more thorough than Cook, as when he raced about measuring canoes, or sketched a pattern of Polynesian weaving, or — even — collected together so many artists and servants for the second voyage that no plant would be undrawn, no stone remain ungathered. In the South Seas, however, from the very nature of voyaging, he was limited, there was little choice of activities; his services and his notes were so valuable because they could not wander. We may contrast him with Cook, whom he so admirably complemented. Cook was a dedicated man. Banks was — one searches for a phrase — a rich and extremely intelligent young man let loose on life. Once again it is the contrast between the professional and the amateur. The pages of our journal therefore are a by-product, which is the secret of their unforced, unlaboured charm. Let the devoted <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name> then make a fair copy, leaving out the hard Latin names; by all means let Phipps have another copy. But do not revise. But do not think of them as an end in themselves. It is their spontaneity that is so captivating for the unprofessional reader. The professional reader, the ethnologist, the natural historian,
						<pb xml:id="n168" n="125"/>
						drinks greedily, and deplores the fate that defrauded him of more, of Banks's second voyage. Enough has been said perhaps on that subject to render otiose any further discussion on its relevance to thoroughness of mind. French horns could not have found a southern continent, or contributed appreciably to the natural history of Polynesia.</p>
        <p>For Banks, indeed, there was so much that he could do, so much that he wanted to do. We may study his later life in the light of his early life, but the reverse process is also useful. He was able, he was interested, he was active, he was not introspective; he was cheerful, he was generous; his activities are so very difficult to summarize, his life so difficult to write, simply because of the extraordinary number of things he found to do, or that were found for him to do. There were the botanical tours, the objects of archaeological curiosity, the fishing-parties with the Ladies of Pleasure. There were the ‘Plays, Operas, Concerts, masquerades &amp;c’. to which he was so ardently devoted, ‘till prevented by infirmities’;<note xml:id="fn1-125" n="1"><p>The quoted phrases are from Banks's letter to <name type="person" key="name-401873">Henry Greville</name> [June 1807], B.M. Add. MS 33981, already quoted, p. 121 above.</p></note> we may indeed perhaps picture him, a member of that tuneful circle that had its surprising moments, in attendance on some of those Christmas oratorios at Hinchingbrooke when Miss Ray sang and Sandwich played the kettle-drums.<note xml:id="fn2-125" n="2"><p>Joseph Gradock, <hi rend="i">Literary and Miscellaneous Memoirs</hi> (1828), I, p. 117.</p></note> There was Soho Square, there was Revesby Abbey, there was soon a third house, Spring Grove at Heston, and later a fourth, Overton in Derbyshire, inherited from Joseph's uncle, Robert Banks Hodgkinson. There were the natural historians, the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name>, the dining clubs, there were the British Museum and the Board of Longitude, the draining of the fens, the service as Recorder of Lincoln and sheriff of the county, the crumbling fabric of Lincoln Cathedral, the Royal Mint and the colonial coinage, the King's merino sheep, the botanical collectors, the transference of the bread-fruit to the West Indies — the list is by no means complete; there was Kew, there was the foundation of the settlement of New South Wales; there was Flinders; there were the tribulations of Governor Bligh, and Mr Caley's dog and the <name type="person" key="name-208673">Rev. Samuel Marsden</name>'s rabbits. Lady Banks (the baronetcy came in 1781) was a little old china mad: that had to be attended to. There were foreign scientific societies. There were scientists and scientific collections to be looked after during the war. There were the misfortunes of Iceland. There were Cook's surviving relatives in Yorkshire — his sister Mrs Fleck
						<pb xml:id="n169" n="126"/>
						who was addicted to inebriety, and her son James who was reduced through misfortune to selling his trading vessel. There was more than enough for an able and interested and generous man to attend to. Under the impact of all this, a man whose sole devotion was science, a man whose life was lonely thought, would have gone insane. Joseph Banks did not go insane. He showed now and again that he was displeased, never that he was disturbed. He had found his multifarious calling, and he pursued it, on the whole, with triumphant success. His role was to be not an original genius, but a sort of director of scientific and industrial research. In a later day he would have been, in that department, a magnificent civil servant. Was he then born too soon? Clearly, no; for the management of men, the organization of useful enterprises, does not belong exclusively to one age. We may add yet again to the characterizations of his century; we may speak of the Age of Banks. Or, simply, we may reflect that in his character, in his activities, in his good fortune, in his shortcomings, in his accomplishments, Joseph Banks was eminently of his age.</p>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n170" n="127"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d14" type="section">
        <head><hi rend="c">Textual Introduction</hi></head>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d14-d1" n="Textual Introduction">
          <p><hi rend="sc">The</hi> editor of Banks's <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal is confronted with few textual problems. The history of the original manuscript,<note xml:id="fn1-127" n="1"><p>In the brief history of the Banks papers that follows, I owe a good deal to a typescript memorandum on the ‘History of the Papers of Sir Joseph Banks’ prepared by <name type="person" key="name-401973">Miss Phyllis Mander Jones</name>, when Mitchell Librarian; to an interesting paper by <name type="person" key="name-401990">Mr Warren R. Dawson</name>, on ‘Sir Joseph Hooker and <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name>’, in the <hi rend="i">Journal of the Society for the Bibliography of Natural History</hi>, II, pt. 6 (1950), pp. 218–22; and to an interchange of information and opinions with Mr Dawson, most valuable to me. The preface to Sir <name key="name-208267" type="person">Joseph Hooker</name>'s edition of Banks's journal is not very useful, except as a stimulant to contradiction and further research; as Mr Dawson has shown, Hooker's own statements are exceedingly unreliable. I have made new investigations, and the interpretations and conclusions finally adopted are my own. For permission to use and quote from correspondence in the records of the Department of Manuscripts of the British Museum I am deeply indebted to the Department; and for help in exploring those records, to Mr T.J. Brown.</p></note> however, and of the MS copies — of which there are five — is interesting. It has also been much misunderstood. It is bound up with the history of Banks's will, or rather of the testamentary dispositions which he made thereby, not very many months before he died. He died childless, 20 June 1820. His will, dated 7 January 1820, was necessarily long and complicated.<note xml:id="fn2-127" n="2"><p>P.C.C. 510 Kent.</p></note> The bulk of his property, real estate, was left to his wife for life, and thereafter to three principal legatees, who were also executors; of these the most important in our history was <name type="person" key="name-401770">Sir Edward Knatchbull</name> (1781–1849), the nephew of Lady Banks, whose sister Mary had married Sir Edward Knatchbull, Bart., of Mersham Hatch, Kent. It is not the main will that is important to us, however, but the codicils, of which there were two. The first of these, dated 21 January 1820, made provision for <name type="person" key="name-110500">Robert Brown</name> (1773–1858), the great botanist and the last of Banks's librarians, and for other persons, and secured certain financial arrangements. Brown, ‘my indefatigable and intelligent librarian’, was left an annuity of £200. The codicil went on,</p>
          <q>I also give to the said Robert Brown the use and enjoyment during his life of my library herbarium manuscripts drawings copperplates engraved and every thing else that is contained in my collections usually kept in the back buildings of my house in … Soho Square … and after his decease then I give and bequeath the same to the Trustees for the time being of the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>;</q>
          <pb xml:id="n171" n="128"/>
          <p>but if the Trustees wished and Brown consented these collections might be removed to the Museum during Brown's life-time, satisfactory access to them being allowed for him and his friends. Certain agreeable duties were laid down for Brown in return, entailing the continuance of his life of scientific scholarship. The Soho Square house itself was left to Lady Banks for life or as long as she required it, with provision for Brown's residence, and thereafter to Brown under the same conditions of duty fulfilled. Lady Banks preferred to reside in Portland Place, where she died in 1828. Brown, therefore, a bachelor, had the whole of No. 32, Soho Square to himself: a problem which he solved by letting the front portion to the <name key="name-402252" type="organisation">Linnean Society</name> in 1821, keeping the ‘back buildings’, fronting on Dean Street, for his own residence and working purposes.</p>
          <p>In 1827 Brown became the first keeper of the Botanical Department of the British Museum, officially entitled Keeper of the Banksian Botanical Collections. This was possible because he and the Trustees had agreed on the application of the alternative clause of the codicil to Banks's will, whereby the library, the herbarium, the drawings, the copperplates, and certain manuscripts — those manuscripts actually in the library — went to the Museum during Brown's life-time. This was admirable. Did it ensure the safety of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal? No; because the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal, like the bulk of the MSS in Banks's possession when he died, was not actually in the library, and did not come directly under the provisions of that part of the will at all. It would have been a great deal better if they had done so; but Banks, with the best intentions in the world, had taken a false step. His papers were multifarious, and he had concluded that further provision was necessary for them; but he had made a ruinously bad choice of a person to execute his wishes. Attempts to understand the history of the journal, among other MSS, in the light of the codicil of 21 January, have been baffled because it can be understood only in the light of the second codicil, of 7 March 1820. This second, and vital, codicil began by bequeathing the botanical drawings of Banks's draughtsman <name type="person" key="name-401826">Francis Bauer</name> to the king, in the hope that Bauer would be taken on to the staff at Kew as the first holder of a permanent position there, failing which his annuity under Codicil I was to be maintained. That clause is typical Banks, though for our purposes it is irrelevant. The relevant portion is as follows:</p>
          <q>And it is my will and desire that my dear relative Sir Edward Knatchbull Baronet be requested to look over all my boxes of papers and other
					<pb xml:id="n172" n="129"/>
					things deposited in my room and the passage room next to it in my house in Soho Square and that he do burn all papers in my hand writing except such as have reference to any part of my estate or to the County of Lincoln and that he do deliver all such other written or printed papers as shall be found in any of them to the persons to whom he thinks they will be most acceptable the papers respecting the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> and the affairs thereof to the Royal Society those respecting the Mint or Coinage to the Mint and that all papers and letters relative to the County of Lincoln be sent to Revesby Abbey and be deposited in the evidence room there my foreign correspondence bound and unbound to be sent to the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> and all the other things in the said rooms to be disposed of as the said <name type="person" key="name-401770">Sir Edward Knatchbull</name> shall think best.</q>
          <p>Now Codicil I had made over to <name type="person" key="name-110500">Robert Brown</name> everything in the ‘collections usually kept in the back buildings’ of the house. Banks's ‘room and the passage room next to it’ were, it seems certain, part of these ‘back buildings’, much more closely allied to the library and the herbarium than to the rooms on the Soho Square side where he had his famous philosophical breakfasts and evening parties. The two codicils therefore cut across each other, and one can imagine a pretty set of legal arguments if there had ever been a lawsuit; unless, as in the case of legislation, the particular — i.e. Codicil II — took precedence of the general — i.e. Codicil I. One would have thought, indeed, that a good executor, faced with the will as a whole, would have considered its general as well as particular provisions, and that having duly burnt and distributed according to the desire of Codicil II he might in due course have made over the residuum of the ‘boxes of papers and other things’ as part of the ‘collections’, if not to Brown — who could hardly have cared about them — then to the British Museum; for the Museum was an institution with which Banks, an able and highly regarded Trustee,<note xml:id="fn1-129" n="1"><p>His portrait by Lawrence still hangs in the Trustees’ Room, the only portrait of a Trustee which does.</p></note> had been long and intimately associated, and as we have seen, he had already designated it as his ultimate legatee.</p>
          <p>Sir Edward Knatchbull, so far as this second codicil was concerned, was not a good executor. He was a ruinously bad choice because he was negligent; and not negligent in any ordinary degree, but to the point of complete irresponsibility. What he burnt we do not know; perhaps we should be thankful that he did not burn much. Perhaps he burnt nothing; for large items, as well as very many inconsiderable scraps in Banks's handwriting, have by devious routes come down to us, and now lie in widely disparate repositories.
					<pb xml:id="n173" n="130"/>
					He delivered to the Royal Society practically nothing, to the Mint nothing at all. He did, in 1828, hand over to the Museum the bound, but not the unbound foreign correspondence — a burst of activity it is hard to account for, unless his memory was somehow jogged by the arrangement between Brown and the Trustees in 1827, or possibly by Lady Banks's death in 1828. But the total effect was that the person to whom he thought (if he thought at all) the great bulk of the papers would be most acceptable was Sir Edward Knatchbull. If he thought at all: for though the boxes certainly went to his house, he may hardly even have looked at them. We have to make the assumption that though the provisions of the will and its codicils were public property (for their gist had appeared in the newspapers)<note xml:id="fn1-130" n="1"><p>e.g., in the unnamed newspaper a cutting from which is included in B.M. Add. MS 6673 (Derbyshire Collections), p. 106a.</p></note> no public body concerned thought fit to make any claim, and that there was general content that the ownership of all those boxes of papers should rest with Knatchbull.</p>
          <p>Where then was the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal ? Let us repeat: if it had been in the library it must surely have come to the British Museum with the library in 1827. The library came under Codicil I. But, it has already been said, the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal did not come under that codicil: the hypothesis, that is, is irresistible that it was in one of the boxes in Banks's room or ‘the passage room next to it’. As it was in Banks's handwriting, should it then have been burnt? Apparently so — absurd as the conclusion may seem; but like so much else, it survived. We know it was in Knatchbull's possession, together with a copy of it made by Sarah Sophia Banks, which is still in the possession of Knatchbull's family; because when it first comes into our view, after its use by <name type="person" key="name-150158">Dr John Hawkesworth</name> in 1771 and 1772, it is in connection with the biography of Banks that a number of his admirers were anxious to have written.</p>
          <p>It had been hoped that Robert Brown would write Banks's life. Brown, however, was a scientific man, without the slightest interest in the writing of biographies; nor, even had he been interested, would he have been particularly fitted for the task. In 1830 Brown himself proposed to <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name>, the Yarmouth banker, botanist, and collector of books and MSS, that Turner should carry it out. An able man, a practised writer, Turner had a mind that ranged widely; he already had, as a collector, transcripts of Banks's minor journals; Knatchbull agreed to make all the papers in his possession available; and in 1832 Turner consented. A great heap of correspondence, mainly letters of all kinds to Banks, was at once sent to him;
					<pb xml:id="n174" n="131"/>
					he set to work sorting and arranging them, and set his daughters and clerks to work making copies. As sorting and arrangement was necessary, the papers must have included other material besides the letters carefully classified and numbered by Banks himself or under his direction — unless the Turner arrangement was — as it seems it may have been — exclusively chronological; or unless Knatchbull did indeed ‘look over’ the contents of the boxes, and bring confusion into them. Turner needed the journal; he got it from Knatchbull in the latter part of 1834 and had that copied also. In 1839 he informed Brown that he intended to spend a month in London to obtain the materials he still needed to complete the task. But the life of Banks was not to be written thus, and after having the papers in his hands for twelve years, spending £200 and a good deal of his leisure on them, Turner gave in; in 1844 or 1845 he returned everything to Knatchbull, originals together with twenty-three indexed and bound volumes of copies, starting with the journal. Knatchbull died in 1849, in which year the eldest son of his second marriage, still another Edward (1829–93), assumed the additional surname of Hugessen.</p>
          <p><name type="person" key="name-401814">Edward Knatchbull-Hugessen</name>'s main distinction, except for one thing, was that <name type="person" key="name-005982">Jane Austen</name> was his great-aunt. The exception was his dealings with the Banks papers. From 1857 to 1880 he was a politician, holding minor office under both Palmerston and Gladstone; in 1880, however, he was given a peerage instead of another undersecretaryship, and changed his political views. As Lord Brabourne, a man of letters, he pursued a new career, writing a series of fairy-stories for children that had some success. Like his father, he did not, it appears, have much sense of responsibility towards historical records, although it is true that he collected books on county history. In the context of that sentence, one further observation may be made, preliminary to the rest of our story. It has been a habit of those who have mourned over the fate of Banks's collections to bestow blame unequivocally upon Brabourne; and with blame a vast amount of indignation. It is now, however, clear that, whatever disapproval is levelled at Brabourne, the blame and indignation must be more widely spread. He did not play a very happy part; but at least it may be said for him that the part he did play was rendered less unnatural by the antecedent behaviour of <name type="person" key="name-401770">Sir Edward Knatchbull</name>. When the crisis came, furthermore, there was no very laudable behaviour elsewhere.</p>
          <p>After Knatchbull's death the commonly recognized owner of the papers was Lady Knatchbull, his widow. There were still hopes
					<pb xml:id="n175" n="132"/>
					of somehow obtaining a biographer, and a series of gentlemen glanced at the material and recoiled. While the search was going on, recourse was again had to the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, and our next definite point is a memorandum dated 25 June 1861 and signed by Joseph Ball, among the records of the Department of Manuscripts: ‘The papers contained in this box and in a smaller case kept herewith were this day received by me from <name type="person" key="name-401772">Thomas Bell</name> Esq<hi rend="sup">r</hi> late President of the Linnean Society who had received them from the Dowager Lady Knatchbull. It is her wish that after the papers and correspondence of Sir Joseph Banks leave my hands they should be deposited in the British Museum’.<note xml:id="fn1-132" n="1"><p>B.M. Dept. of MSS, Miscellaneous Letters and Papers. Joseph Ball, F.R.S. and Thomas Bell, F.R.S. were both looked on as possible biographers.</p></note> According to <name type="person" key="name-402225">William Carruthers</name>, later Keeper of the Botanical Department, they were on Lady Knatchbull's death to become the property of the Trustees. Carruthers is our only authority for this, but the story is at least not improbable. The papers went from Ball to Carruthers in the Botanical Department, for in October 1873 Carruthers was instructed to place them in the Department of Manuscripts; then at the beginning of 1876 he was allowed to take away again the twenty-three volumes of the <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name> transcripts for the use of yet another potential biographer, the young Daydon Jackson.<note xml:id="fn2-132" n="2"><p>Carruthers's statements, some of them highly inaccurate, were made to Sir Joseph Hooker, in a letter of 14 July 1893, printed in Hooker's edition of the Journal, pp. x-xi.</p></note> These, owing to some fortunate lapse in administration, were not returned, and are still in the library of the Botanical Department.</p>
          <p>Lady Knatchbull died, in her ninetieth year, at the end of 1882, and it might seem that the safety of the papers would now be assured, in an agreed and permanent resting-place. This was not so, because by 1882 they were not in the Museum at all, but at Lord Brabourne's house in Queen Anne's Gate. How did Brabourne come to have them? It has been freely stated<note xml:id="fn3-132" n="3"><p>e.g., by Carruthers, ibid., p. xi. Carruthers, writing in 1893, puts the incidents ‘Some seven or eight years ago’.</p></note> that he demanded the papers from the Librarian of the British Museum as his personal property, was met by expostulation, replied with insistence, and carried off everything in a ‘box’ to put it up for auction: that, to put it brutally, he was guilty of a sort of large-scale bare-faced daylight robbery. The truth is more complicated. We are impeded in our search for it by the fact that the Department of Manuscripts did not keep copies of outgoing correspondence. The Keeper's incoming letters were, however, preserved; and from these a part, at least, of the story emerges with some definiteness. They do not
					<pb xml:id="n176"/>
					<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP007a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP007a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP007a-g"/><head>The first page of the Journal</head></figure>
					<pb xml:id="n177"/>
					<pb xml:id="n178" n="133"/>
					show the Librarian — i.e. the Principal Librarian, E. A. (later Sir Edward) Bond — to have been engaged at all, though discussions by word of mouth may have been carried on; nor is there any record at all of the Trustees having been consulted. The Museum official concerned was the Keeper of the Department of Manuscripts, <name key="name-402309" type="person">E. (later Sir Edward) Maunde Thompson</name>; and Maunde Thompson, a celebrated palaeographer, was certainly less interested in memorials of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries than we in our day are. Nor, it seems, could he have been acquainted with the terms of Banks's will. Sixty years after Banks's death, indeed, nobody seems to have been acquainted with the terms of his will. In May 1880 Edward (later Lord) Stanhope, another possible biographer, wished to search the papers, and Maunde Thompson must have consulted the man he regarded as their owner; for a letter from Knatchbull-Hugessen (he did not complete his peerage formalities till later on in the year) signifies his agreement: ‘I have seen Mr Stanhope to-day and shall be quite willing that the MSS of Sir Joseph Banks shall be entrusted to his custody until he has been able to make such search amongst them as he desires. Probably the result of Mr Stanhope's examination may determine the future destination of these papers, with the exact nature of which I am at present unacquainted’.<note xml:id="fn1-133" n="1"><p>Knatchbull-Hugessen to Maunde Thompson, 21 May 1880; Dept. of MSS. Misc. Letters and Papers.</p></note> Stanhope gave a receipt for four parcels of papers on 22 May, which he subsequently endorsed, 2 July 1880, as ‘Transferred to Lord Brabourne, 3 Queen Anne's Gate’. He took another ‘14 Boxes of Miscellaneous Papers’ on 7 July.<note xml:id="fn2-133" n="2"><p>ibid.</p></note> These fourteen boxes he also transferred to Brabourne, adding to his note giving this information the postcript, ‘I have ventured to recommend to Lord Brabourne handing over at once to the Museum all the scientific correspondence. Some of the more private correspondence and his journals appear to be rather for his relatives’.<note xml:id="fn3-133" n="3"><p>Stanhope to Maunde Thompson, 12 July [1880], ibid.</p></note></p>
          <p>There for eighteen months the matter rested,<note xml:id="fn4-133" n="4"><p>Though Brabourne had a sale of books, drawings, and MSS relating to Lincolnshire at Sotheby's as early as 15 June 1880.</p></note> until in February 1884 Brabourne took it up again, as if it were something entirely new. ‘I have here’, he wrote to Maunde Thompson, ‘a quantity of papers and letters inherited from the late Sir Joseph Banks — he and my grandfather having married sisters. Amongst them are Sir Joseph's journal of his voyage to Newfoundland &amp;c and many
					<pb xml:id="n179" n="134"/>
					letters from scientific people and other papers of interest. I had an idea of putting these up to auction but after a conversation with Mr Stanhope who has looked through them all, I have come to the conclusion that it would be right in the first instance to offer them to the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, which has already many papers and other things from Sir Joseph Banks’. He invited the Keeper therefore to come and inspect the papers, and judge the advisability of purchasing them.<note xml:id="fn1-134" n="1"><p>Brabourne to Maunde Thompson, 22 February 1884, ibid.</p></note> Stanhope's recommendation of 1880 had not, evidently, met with favour. The next letter, in March, argues that Maunde Thompson had seen Brabourne, and got the papers back to the Museum for examination. Brabourne regrets he cannot himself examine them (he had been ordered abroad to convalesce from bronchitis). ‘This, however, is of the less consequence, as I have not the remotest notion of the value of such things — whether they are worth £100 or £1000 or £2000. All I know is that there are <hi rend="i">some</hi> of them which would fetch money at Sotheby's or elsewhere as Mss of Sir J. Banks, and some which might be acceptable perhaps to certain colonies or to India. There are I think several volumes of the Journal….’ Perhaps indeed Brabourne's friend Mr A. H. Todd of the Temple could go through the papers with the Keeper, and either settle the matter or ‘put it in a train of speedy settlement’.<note xml:id="fn2-134" n="2"><p>Brabourne to Maunde Thompson, 10 March 1884; Papers Relating to the Purchase and Acquisition of Manuscripts.</p></note> Mr Todd duly called at the Museum, and now a fresh possibility was raised. Mr Bentley the publisher was considering the desirability of publishing some of the journals, and that would affect the price to be paid.<note xml:id="fn3-134" n="3"><p>Brabourne to Maunde Thompson, 14 March 1884, ibid.</p></note> Mr Todd then gave his opinion. Acknowledging a letter from the Keeper, he put the value of the papers at ‘between £250 and £300, to be reduced or increased by the permission or the refusal of the purchaser to allow publication of the journals and narratives. There is a certain amount of interesting matter that might be turned to advantage in the latter documents, among the letters there are a great number of interest and value’.<note xml:id="fn4-134" n="4"><p>Todd to Maunde Thompson, 24 March 1884, ibid.</p></note> This was not to show an excess of enthusiasm, but indeed no great enthusiasm was being shown anywhere. At least one can say for Lord Brabourne that he knew what he wanted. He wanted £250. So far as the concrete evidence takes us, there is nothing to show that either he or Maunde Thompson was aware that they were negotiating for the purchase by the Museum of what was — it can be reasonably argued — already the Museum's property.
					<pb xml:id="n180" n="135"/>
					The Keeper seems to have made an offer. Our last letter is again from Todd. ‘I have heard from Lord Brabourne’, he writes on 18 April. ‘He desires me to say that as Sir Joseph, Lady and Miss Banks gave papers coins medals and curiosities of very great value and interest to the British Museum, and as the papers you have now under consideration will complete that collection, he does not consider that £250 is a large sum for him to ask as the price of such of the papers as you may require. He is anxious however not to enter into any correspondence or to bargain about the matter, and therefore if the British Museum authorities decline to give that sum, he will be much obliged to you if you could return all the books and documents to Queen Anne's Gate in order that they may be sold by auction or dispersed among Local and Colonial Museums or otherwise disposed of, as his Lordship may deem advisable. He desires me further to ask that you will kindly decide as soon as possible as to the course you will take’.<note xml:id="fn1-135" n="1"><p>Todd to Maunde Thompson, 18 April 1884; Papers Relating to the Purchase and Acquisition of Manuscripts.</p></note> Lord Brabourne was a little peremptory, and it did not do to be peremptory with Maunde Thompson. The communication is endorsed, ‘Declined Papers sent back 22 Apr 84’. Thus did the British Museum, for the time being, relinquish interest in one of the greatest of its benefactors and Trustees.</p>
          <p>The plundering process now began. It was ‘the colonies’ that were to have first turn. Before the fatal year 1884 was out <name type="person" key="name-402035">Sir Saul Samuel</name>, the agent in London for New South Wales, acting on behalf of his Government, bought from Brabourne for £375 a large and miscellaneous collection of papers relating mainly to Australia. They were, wrote Samuel later to Sir Joseph Hooker, bought ‘on the understanding, in writing, that if [Lord Brabourne] discovered any more papers relating to the same subject he would send them to me, for the colony, without further payment’.<note xml:id="fn2-135" n="2"><p>Samuel to Sir Joseph Hooker, n.d., published by Hooker in the <hi rend="i">Athenaeum</hi> 24 April 1897, pp. 547–8.</p></note> The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal was not included in the purchase, which did at least put a great number of important papers into responsible ownership (they are now in the Mitchell Library, bound in twenty-two volumes as the ‘Brabourne Papers’). Encouraged, Brabourne proceeded to put up a further section of the papers for auction at Sotheby's on 11 March 1886, and then a very large collection on the following 14 April. Samuel was sent a catalogue of this last sale — ‘amongst which’, he continued in his letter to Hooker, ‘were papers relating to New South Wales, which I considered were
					<pb xml:id="n181" n="136"/>
					included in my purchase. I thereupon wrote to Lord Brabourne, requesting him to cause the documents to be withdrawn from sale and handed over to me for my Government. Receiving no reply, I subsequently wrote to Messrs Sotheby, Wilkinson and Co. protesting against the sale of the papers, and claiming them as the property of the Government of New South Wales. The papers were withdrawn at the time.’ But they were not handed over. ‘What became of them I never heard, except that when I was in Auckland, New Zealand, in 1888, I visited the Public Library in that city, and saw a number of the papers which I believe had been withdrawn from the sale to which I have referred. I was informed that these papers had been presented to the Auckland Library by <name type="person" key="name-208095">Sir George Grey</name>, by whose agent they had been purchased in London’. There is here, however, evidence of poor memory on the part of his informant, or of misinformation: the Auckland or Grey MSS had not been bought by Grey's agent in London, nor had they been withdrawn from the sale; they were bought there with other papers (perhaps by the dealer <name type="person" key="name-401931">John Waller</name>, who bought largely), sold to <name type="person" key="name-207908">J. D. Enys</name> of Canterbury,<note xml:id="fn1-136" n="1"><p>Canterbury province in New Zealand, where Enys was a well-known sheep-farmer. He retired in 1890 to the family seat in Cornwall, whence other Banks papers have lately come. Cf. p. 145 below.</p></note> and sold by him to Grey, apparently in 1888. They were bought at the sale at a very low price; for the weakness in Brabourne's plan for continued profit now appeared. People had ceased to be interested in Sir Joseph Banks, his doings, and his friends. The 207 lots put up realized a derisory sum — various attempts at addition were made, £178 5s, £180 5s, £182 19s; twenty-six lots went at 2s each, fourteen at 1s. The Museum acquired a few important ones: for example, the Blagden correspondence and the letters to Sir William Hamilton; but it let go all too much.<note xml:id="fn2-136" n="2"><p>‘In 1891 I presented to the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>, <hi rend="i">nine hundred and sixty eight</hi> letters, a portion <hi rend="i">only</hi> of a large mass of the Banks Correspondence which I purchased of <name type="person" key="name-401931">John Waller</name> the Auto: Dealer for the sum of £10. 10s. !!!’—Spencer G. Perceval to <name type="person" key="name-401890">James Britten</name>, 28 May 1899, a letter attached inside a copy of Perceval's printing of Banks's journal of his Bristol journey, in the Botanical Library, B.M. (N.H.). ‘The whole transaction was an outrage on the memory of Banks!’ Perceval remarks in another note to Britten, 30 May 1899, ibid.</p></note> A few collectors got bargains. Large bundles were taken by autograph dealers, to be broken up and re-sold where signatures were well-known and fashionable; where they were not, to be destroyed or lie around collecting dust in the back rooms or cellars of shops. Individual letters and bundles of letters, stray memoranda and notes, drifted about the market for years — a few are still drifting — sometimes acquired by pious botanists from dealers for whom they were simply a deadweight, and added to the papers at Kew;
					<pb xml:id="n182" n="137"/>
					sometimes, as the years went on, sold at prices that would have lifted the heart of the first Lord Brabourne, could he have been the recipient. It was not the whole that was sacrificed in 1886. By 1928, when another large amount came on the market, the returns were much more satisfactory. Thus was one of the greatest collections of records for the history of science and the social life of the intellect ever assembled, a collection fundamental for our knowledge of certain aspects of the eighteenth century, flung away and dissipated all over the earth. What was utterly destroyed in the process it is impossible to say. But the student of Banks and of Banks's time who wishes to master his subject will find the <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name> transcripts at South Kensington only a beginning; his material now lies in private hands and public collections, uncoordinated and largely uncatalogued, in London and a dozen other parts of England, in Sydney, in Adelaide, in Canberra, in Auckland, in Wellington, in New Haven, in San Francisco, in Toronto — we do not know where else. It is a melancholy end to Banks's sixty years of systematic preservation and classification. Certainly it would be a great deal more melancholy if such an enormous mass of material did not in fact exist, wide-spread as it is.<note xml:id="fn1-137" n="1"><p>I do not go into detail on the dispersal of the Banks papers, apart from the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> journal. The interested person may turn to <name type="person" key="name-401990">Mr Warren Dawson</name>'s list of sources in his calendar of <hi rend="i">The Banks Letters</hi>, published by the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> (Natural History) in 1958. This calendar includes only those letters in collections in Great Britain—something over 7000. Mr Dawson estimates the total as 50,000, or even more.</p></note></p>
          <p>Among the few lots at the Brabourne sale which fetched a sum reckoned in pounds and not shillings was Lot 176. This was described as ‘Banks's (Sir Joseph) Journal of a Voyage to the Sandwich Islands and New Zealand from March 1769 to July 1771, in the autograph of Banks’. Waller gave £7 2s 6d for it. The description was a fantastic one, whatever the journal was. The dates do not correspond with those of any MS of Banks we now have, or that ever, so far as we know, existed. The original journal runs from 25 August 1768 to 12 July 1771. A fragmentary ‘journal’ in Banks's handwriting (Grey MSS 51–2: see below p. 146) runs from 7 October 1769 to 10 October 1770, and from 26 October 1770 to 9 July 1771. Carruthers told Hooker that Waller did not specially remember the purchase. If Waller had bought the two bound volumes of the original he could not but remember it: they were a solid fact which would stick in a dealer's memory even if he had sold them next day. Let us assume, however, that part of the Grey MSS, the so-called ‘journal’, was correctly described so far as its beginning date was concerned (for the gap between 10 October and 26 October
					<pb xml:id="n183" n="138"/>
					1770, the early days at Batavia, is of no significance, as will be seen from the note on the MSS below). Then it would be quite possible that Waller, when going over his heap of purchases, mislaid and destroyed the early pages of a MS that may even have been imperfect before. What he sold a little later, then, would be not quite what he had bought. This, at any rate, we may adopt as a provisional hypothesis, and we may conclude that the original journal did not come up at the sale, but that the Grey MSS did, and were there sold.</p>
          <p>What then of the original? We know that <name type="person" key="name-401770">Sir Edward Knatchbull</name> had it, that he lent it to <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name> in 1834, that Dawson Turner gave it back, at latest, in 1845. It then sinks from sight till we find it in the early nineties in the hands of [Sir] <name type="person" key="name-401887">J. Henniker Heaton</name>, M.P. In a letter from <name type="person" key="name-401832">Francis Edwards</name> the bookseller, to Alfred Lee the Australian collector, 4 May 1894,<note xml:id="fn1-138" n="1"><p>Mitchell MS 1808.</p></note> Edwards says, ‘I have just been told in confidence that it is the original, in Banks's handwriting, with information as to its history and former possessors’. Why there should be any necessity for confidence it is hard to guess. Brabourne had died in 1893, but there may have been someone concerned in some anterior transaction who had a sense of shame. We are left to infer that Henniker Heaton bought the journal from Brabourne privately — we do not know when — or from somebody else who had acquired it from Brabourne. The story after this point becomes plain. From Henniker Heaton it passed in 1894 to Alfred Lee, and from Lee, with the rest of his collection (including other invaluable Banks material) in 1906 to <name type="person" key="name-401784">David Scott Mitchell</name>. In the Mitchell Library it remains. Inside the front cover of the first volume is an MS note by Sir Edward Knatchbull that it was ‘lent to Mr. Brown, March 26 1833’ (the two final figures are not however very clear). A similar note in the second volume is defective through trimming of the paper. Each volume contains Alfred Lee's bookplate. Apart from such external evidence, there is no doubt about this being the original MS, composed on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>. It is in the handwriting of Banks as a young man, and every page bears the idiosyncrasies of his written expression. The deletions and substitutions, the characteristic and consistent misspellings, the experiments with the renderings of Polynesian names, the alteration of present tenses to past, the mis-numbering of pages, the incorporation of separate lists and memoranda, not always as a part of the composition, but bound into the volumes at a convenient place — all these are obvious and overwhelming arguments, if
					<pb xml:id="n184" n="139"/>
					argument is necessary, for the authenticity of this journal as Banks's original work. This it is that is here edited and printed.</p>
          <p>The journal is contained in two leather-bound quarto volumes, of page-size 9⅛ × 7¼ in. (23.2 × 18 cm.). Apparently Banks made up the pages himself by taking larger sheets, folding them in half, and then folding them again transversely, so producing a set of four leaves. He then sometimes placed other leaves inside these, giving himself sections of from four to sixteen leaves. So at least the volumes as bound seem to imply, with watermarks often occurring on four or more consecutive leaves, or with a succession of leaves lacking any watermark at all. He then gave himself a guide to both inner and outer margins by further folding.<note xml:id="fn1-139" n="1"><p>I owe these details to <name type="person" key="name-401973">Miss Phyllis Mander Jones</name>, lately Mitchell Librarian.</p></note> Volume I comprises the period 25 August 1768–14 August 1769, pp. 1–332, followed by the description of ‘Manners and Customs of the South Sea Islands’, pp. 333–437, with three blank leaves at the end. Banks occasionally slipped in his numbering: p.33 is repeated; 220 is numbered 120; pp.242–366 were first numbered 142–266 and then corrected, while there is no 391 or 393 at all; and so on. After writing a number of pages — how many it is impossible to say — he added ‘running-heads’, generally of geographical names, which he very rarely mentioned in his text, or some like indication of the ship's position, together with the month and the year. His ‘Manners and Customs’ pages have a general running head. Bound in between the two pp.33 is a one page list of Madeira fish and a list of Madeira plants, pp. 1–13; between pp.62 and 63 is his memorandum on electrical experiments, pp. 1–13; between pp. 131 and 132 a list of Plantae Brasilienses, 11 pp. unnumbered; between pp.176 and 177 a list of plants of Tierra del Fuego, pp. 1–6; and between pp.214 and 215 <name type="person" key="name-401799">Dr Nathaniel Hulme</name>'s letter on the use of citrus juices. All these are printed in Appendix I of the present work, Vol. II, pp. 276 ff.</p>
          <p>Volume II comprises the period 15 August 1769–12 July 1771 The pages are numbered 1–603, which latter figure should be 703, as p. 301 is followed by 202. In the second series of 200's p. 243 is followed immediately by 246 on the verso side of the same leaf; pp. 10, 568, and 574 are blanks. Banks follows the same plan of writing as in his first volume. Whether he thought in terms of volumes is uncertain: the blank leaves at the end of Volume I may perhaps argue that he did, though it is much more likely that they are accounted for by the fact that while he was writing
					<pb xml:id="n185" n="140"/>
					his general account of the South Sea Islands he was also keeping the journal up to date with current happenings. Volume division came later when he had the journal bound, and the matter has no particular importance. For the reader the plan followed has what some may deem the disadvantage of a certain amount of repetition; for the strictly chronological entries on what happened are followed in turn by ‘Some Account of New Zealand’, ‘Some Account of New Holland’, and of Batavia, and the Cape, and of St Helena. In these accounts, as in that of the islands, Banks tends, bringing together all his impressions, to say over again a good deal of what he has said before, though he adds a good deal also. It cannot be denied, however, that the summaries he thus produces are very useful. He certainly made them part of his technique of journal-writing.</p>
          <p>The early part of the journal, for something like 150 pages, is written in a big rather untidy hand, as if the journal-keeper is hastening on in breakneck excitement; the writing then becomes smaller, with more lines to the page, perhaps from some prudential motive of ensuring a sufficient supply of paper; then towards the end of Volume II it becomes bigger again, as if a new excitement, that of being turned homewards, had asserted itself. Excitement cannot be the cause of Banks's lack of punctuation, because it was his nature not to punctuate, as is clear not merely from this journal but from his MSS in general. If, now and again, he is visited by a conviction that he ought to punctuate, whether because of a feeling that he is advancing on some grand set piece or for some other reason, he is likely to carry the eighteenth century conventions to so absurd a point that one can hardly get on for the commas. Fortunately these schoolboyish outbursts are very rare, and one can make one's way without deliberate obstruction from the writer. Like many of his contemporaries, in cursive writing he was prone to begin a sentence, or even a paragraph, without a capital letter; but he makes up for this by overdoing capitals elsewhere — particularly E G L J K S M. On the other hand, not all these may be capitals to Banks: he appears, for example, to have known only one form of K; his S's and C's come in all sizes; he uses a Greek E in all varieties of size, as well as the ordinary written e, for adjectives, adverbs and verbs as well as for nouns; his L is sometimes clearly an intended capital, sometimes emerges merely as a sort of habitual slip of the pen equivalent to 1; capital J seems to be used at random, like C and S — but not for the reason that, like them, it frequently falls from the pen, in rapid writing, in a size larger
					<pb xml:id="n186" n="141"/>
					than the rest of a word. M is very frequently dubious; Banks never makes an elaborately formal capital, as he sometimes does with N. Inconsistency is perhaps most complete with the names of countries and peoples, even in successive lines; so that we have England, england, english, India, india, North america, new Holland, Dutch or Duch, duch, Spain, spain, spanish, and so on. Even personal names are sometimes deprived of a capital. All this is liable to cause irritation to those who go by rule — e.g. printers.</p>
          <p>Banks's manuscript text has a few peculiarities in spelling. He is not good on final th — he always writes, e.g. <hi rend="i">lengh, strengh</hi>, for <hi rend="i">length, strength</hi>. He generally, but not always, writes his past participle -ed without either an e or an apostrophe — e.g. <hi rend="i">inclind, lookd, seemd</hi> — unless the previous syllable contained a t or d — e.g. <hi rend="i">existed, provided.</hi> It is frequently impossible to tell whether he is spelling with a c or an s — e.g. <hi rend="i">immence</hi> or <hi rend="i">immense</hi>. With the possessive case he rarely uses an apostrophe before his s. With the word <hi rend="i">notwithstanding</hi> he seems to have peculiar trouble, as if its succession of letters were altogether too long and too complicated to get right, except by extreme chance. <hi rend="i">Of</hi> generally represents <hi rend="i">off</hi>. He rarely writes out <hi rend="i">and</hi> in full, preferring the ampersand, and preferring <hi rend="i">&amp;c</hi> to <hi rend="i">etc.</hi> With underlinings of personal or scientific names he is inconsistent. Occasionally a word necessary to the sense is omitted, and he makes the small slips common to everybody in short words — <hi rend="i">ad</hi> for <hi rend="i">as, if</hi> for <hi rend="i">is</hi>; but here we move away from peculiarities. It does not seem necessary to provide further detail.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d14-d2" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="c">The Transcripts</hi></head>
          <p>The five MS copies of the journals are two of them contemporary, one was made in the early nineteenth century, one in the mid-1830's, and one towards the end of that century. The first two are useful in annotating the original.</p>
          <list type="simple">
            <item>
              <p>(1) A careful copy made by Sarah Sophia Banks, in the possession of the present Lord Brabourne; referred to in footnotes as S. Two volumes quarto, pp.435, 703. The copying took a long time, as it must have been begun soon after the return of the ship, and went on into 1775. In 1772 <name type="person" key="name-401769">Sarah Sophia</name> was busy also copying Banks's other journals, long and short — so that as a sister she was more than dutiful. Different sections have different title pages, as follows: (i) ‘Copy of Journal from Plymouth to Terra del Fuego. Including an Account of Terra del Fuego’. Signed at the top, ‘S:S:Banks 1771’; pp. 1–177. (ii) ‘Copy of Journal from <name key="name-200921" type="place">Cape Horn</name> to the
							<pb xml:id="n187" n="142"/>
							Islands in The Pacifick Ocean. Including an Account of the Islands in the Pacifick Ocean’. Signed at the top, ‘S:S:Banks 1771 to page 217. From thence (beginning with page 217. and ending with page 435.) 1772’. (iii) ‘Copy of Journal from the Islands in the Pacifick Ocean to New Zealand. Including an Account of New Zealand’. Signed at the top ‘S S Banks 1772 to page 49. From thence (beginning with page 49, &amp; ending with page 228.) 1773’. (iv) ‘Copy of Journal from New Zealand to the Islands of Savu. Including an Account of Savu’. Signed at top, ‘S:S:Banks 1773’. This part finishes on p. 486. (v) ‘Copy of Journal from Savu to the Cape of Good Hope. Including an account of the <name key="name-170606" type="place">Cape of Good Hope</name>’. Signed at the top, ‘S:S:Banks 1773 to page 501. From thence (beginning with page 501, &amp; ending with page 666.) 1774. From thence (beginning with page 667, and ending with page 674.) January 4<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 1775’. (vi) ‘Copy of Journal from the Cape of Good Hope Home’. Signed at top, ‘S:S:Banks 1775. Began this part in January. Finished February y<hi rend="sup">e</hi> 13. 1775’. The last page has again a note of the date when it was finished.</p>
            </item>
          </list>
          <p>This copy is important because of a number of additional notes, referred to on the title page of (iv): ‘mem: the loose bits of paper pasted in different places are not copied from the Journal, but are only occasional memorandums &amp; observations’. These memo randums &amp; observations’ are in the main obviously supplied by Banks himself, it would appear in answer to questions from Sarah Sophia, but at least in one place to add a further observation of his own on ‘betel-chewing’ (see II, p. 166, n. below). A few others seem to be notes by Sarah Sophia, commenting on statements made: e.g. the arithmetical correction on II, p. 238, n. Sarah Sophia, even less of a classical scholar than her brother, declined transcribing a large amount of scientific terminology, and very soon has her own note, frequently repeated, ‘For the future shall omit copying the Latin names &amp; instead of them only put a serpentine dash — to avoid numberless mistakes’; and omits the catalogues of plants altogether. Her copy therefore is of only secondary use to the natural historian. On the other hand it re-spells and punctuates, its readings are welcome in some cases of dubious legibility in the original; while it supplies several words omitted in Banks's MS, and thus does away with the need for conjectural emendation. The delicacy of Sarah Sophia's mind is witnessed by her inability to bring herself to copy out certain words in full, and by the dashes (not serpentine) she accordingly adopts: ‘the detestable vice of S — y’ (p. 461 below); ‘the B — ks which in the Islands was the
					<pb xml:id="n188" n="143"/>
					principal seat of this ornament’— i.e. of tattooing (II, p. 14 below). In the account of the Cape the passage about the ‘Grand Quaere’ (II, p. 260) is entirely omitted and the paragraph in which it occurs finishes at the words ‘part of their Food’.</p>
          <list type="simple">
            <item>
              <p>(2) A copy made for Banks's friend <name type="person" key="name-170619">Constantine Phipps</name> (1744–92), in the hand of a professional clerk, and now in the Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington; referred to in footnotes as P. It is entitled ‘Journal kept by <name type="person" key="name-123818">Joseph Banks Esq</name><hi rend="sup">r</hi> From August 25<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 1768 To July 12<hi rend="sup">th</hi> 1771’; two volumes quarto, pp. 375, 593. The second volume begins with 15 August 1769. Both volumes bear the book-plate of the ‘Hon<hi rend="sup">ble</hi> <name type="person" key="name-170619">Constantine John Phipps</name>’; and as Phipps succeeded to his Irish peerage as the 2nd Baron Mulgrave in 1775, the assumption is that the copy was made before that date. Not merely was Phipps a close friend of Banks, but he collected ‘a library the most perfect in England as to all works of naval science, with many unpublished charts and notes of soundings’,<note xml:id="fn1-143" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Gent. Mag.</hi>, lxii, p. 965.</p></note> so that his eagerness to possess the journal may be understood. This copy is the work of a good writer, who regularizes Banks's eccentricities, and leaves spaces, where he cannot read a word, to be filed in later; some of these appear to have been filled by Banks himself, so that the copy has some claim to be regarded as authoritative. Presumably it came on the market with the breaking up of Phipps's library; it was bought by <name type="person" key="name-209503">Alexander Horsburgh Turnbull</name> in 1892 from Henry Sotheran and Co.<note xml:id="fn2-143" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-209503">A. H. Turnbull</name> to <name type="person" key="name-402225">William Carruthers</name>, 26 May 1898—a letter preserved inside the front cover of the <name type="person" key="name-401786">Dawson Turner</name> copy in the Botanical Library of the British Museum (Natural History).</p></note></p>
            </item>
            <item>
              <p>(3) A copy belonging to Lord Stanley of Alderley, now on loan to the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich. It seems likely that this copy was made for <name type="person" key="name-402025">Sir John Stanley</name> (1766–1850) of Alderley Park in Cheshire, F.R.S. 1790, Baron Stanley of Alderley 1839, who had followed Banks's example in visiting Iceland, and had published an <hi rend="i">Account of the Hot Spring</hi> at Edinburgh in 1791. Unlike the copies previously described, this was written in uniform large quarto blank volumes, already bound: Vol. I runs from 25 August 1768 to 31 July 1770, 494 pp.; Vol. II from 1 August 1770 to 12 July 1771, 237 pp., the remainder blank. The date of the copy is uncertain, but the paper of the first volume is watermarked 1804, that of the second 1807,<note xml:id="fn3-143" n="3"><p>The information given to me, and printed in Cook I, pp. ccxxxix, that the watermark of the whole MS is Whatman 1809, is erroneous.</p></note> so that it is probable it was made before or about 1810. This was within Banks's lifetime, but he could not
							<pb xml:id="n189" n="144"/>
							have taken any interest in it. It is done in a rather ungainly hand, with not a few misreadings: e.g. 3 June 1769, ‘Pandenus Lectinus’ for Pandanus Tectorius; 6 June 1769, ‘Oritta’ for Orette; among other proper names, ‘Terutu’ for Teratu; in the discussion of the New Zealand language, the particle ‘the’, writes Banks, ‘was generaly He, or Ko’ — which becomes ‘was generally He, or She’; and so on. This copy, therefore, while it has the interest of relative antiquity, has not much other interest, and is of no importance textually.</p>
            </item>
            <item>
              <p>(4) The copy made for Dawson Turner, c. 1834–5; two volumes fol., pp. 351 (+ 8 on electrical experiments), 461; now in the Botanical Library of the British Museum (Natural History), South Kensington, with the other Dawson Turner transcripts. It was carefully done.</p>
            </item>
            <item>
              <p>(5) A copy in the library of the Herbarium, Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew; three volumes fol. About 1893 Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker turned his attention towards editing and publishing the journal, for which purpose he was anxious to borrow the original from the then owner, Henniker Heaton.<note xml:id="fn1-144" n="1"><p>Letter from <name type="person" key="name-401832">Francis Edwards</name> to Alfred Lee, 16 November 1894; Mitchell MS 1808.</p></note> It was in 1894 that Heaton sold the MS to Alfred Lee; and with it safely out of reach Hooker seems to have temporarily given up his plan. He found, however, that he could get a transcript of the Dawson Turner copy, and on the three volumes of this transcript, those now in the Herbarium Library, he proceeded to operate. The end result was his <hi rend="i">Journal of the Right Hon. Sir Joseph Banks, Bart, K.B., P.R.S. during Captain Cook's first voyage in H.M.S. Endeavour</hi> in 1768–71 … (London 1896). Nothing can dim the botanical fame of Hooker, but at this time he was in his late seventies (he was born in 1817 and died in 1911) and his long and remarkable scientific career had never embraced any training in the treatment of historical documents. He was at a stage indeed when an eminent Victorian acted with vigour and entire lack of remorse. It is consequently difficult to forgive him for what he did. In his preface he remarks, ‘I have largely exercised my duties as editor in respect of curtailments’. <note xml:id="fn2-144" n="2"><p>p. xii. ‘The omitted portions are chiefly observations on the wind and weather; extracts from the ship's log, which find their proper place in Cook's Journal; innumerable notices of birds and marine animals that were of constant recurrence; and lists of plants and animals, many with MS. names that have been since superseded.’—Banks never, so far as I can tell, makes ‘extracts from the ship's log’: it is hard to understand why a scientist should be so summary with the other matters Hooker mentions.</p></note> He exercised his duties with red ink. These volumes are not a journal, they are a scene of carnage: a sort of battlefield, where stricken battalions lie inanimate and bleeding, and mutilated captives, dragged from
							<pb xml:id="n190" n="145"/>
							massacre, are forced beneath the triumphant general's yoke. Whole paragraphs, whole pages are scored through: what was left, Hooker did not hesitate to rewrite. It was an editor's duty to secure proper grammatical observance, proper spelling,<note xml:id="fn1-145" n="1"><p>‘… the grammar and orthography are in the original very loose, and I have therefore corrected the language to accord with modern requirements….’—ibid.</p></note> a proper regard to the decencies. Certainly one may read Hooker's edition without a blush, for either Banks's syntax or his morals. Certainly in Banks's MS there is some repetition, as has been already pointed out; and certainly, in an editor of Hooker's period, one could forgive a moderate amount of tactful and judicious curtailment. But Hooker, in his 457 pages, reduces a text of something like 260,000 words to about 175,000. Certainly the book could not fail to be interesting. But it had ceased to be Banks's journal. It was something to do with a baronet, a Knight of the Bath, a President of the Royal Society. The three volumes at Kew remain an awful witness to a large conception of duty.</p>
            </item>
          </list>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-front-d14-d3" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="c">Supplementary Papers</hi></head>
          <list type="simple">
            <item>
              <p>(I) <hi rend="i">The Grey MSS.</hi> In the Auckland City Public Library is a small group of MSS in Banks's hand, relating to Captain Cook, known as <hi rend="i">Grey MSS</hi> 47–75 — part of the miscellaneous and valuable collection bequeathed to the Library by <name type="person" key="name-208095">Sir George Grey</name>. Grey had acquired them about 1888, as already remarked, from <name type="person" key="name-207908">J. D. Enys</name>, a settler in the New Zealand province of Canterbury, who later retired to his native Cornwall; and Enys, writing to Grey, 7 April 1888, in a letter preserved with the collection, had informed him that they ‘were bought and sent to me from the sale of the MSS. of Sir Joseph Banks sold by his great nephew Lord Brabourne’. As we can see from the enumeration of the leaves, most of them were from Banks's bound volumes of papers. Those bearing on the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> voyage are the following:</p>
              <list type="simple">
                <item>
                  <p>(i) <hi rend="i">Grey MS</hi> 48. Four pp. folio, of which the last page contains only one line; this is a description of Tahiti, possibly a draft outline produced while Banks was still making up his mind what form his journal entries should take, or perhaps a supplementary note.</p>
                </item>
                <item>
                  <p>(ii) <hi rend="i">Grey MS</hi> 49. Three ff. small quarto: notes on the position and size of the <name key="name-032033" type="place">Society Islands</name> and a number of the Tuamotu islands that had been sighted, with some other unimportant
									<pb xml:id="n191" n="146"/>
									particulars. On Tahiti there is a reference, ‘see the account on a full sheet’, which may refer to No. 48.</p>
                </item>
                <item>
                  <p>(iii) <hi rend="i">Grey MS</hi> 51. Forty ff. small quarto, portion of a journal, running from 9 October 1769 to 10 October 1770. It has been thought that this, and not the Mitchell Library original, may have been the Lot 176 sold at Sotheby's for £7 2s 6d; but this, no more than the original, answers the description given in the catalogue of the sale — whatever that fact may be worth. This ‘journal’, though it was written out by Banks, is in no real sense a journal at all; it is simply an abstract of parts of Cook's journal, made as a summary of the ship's movements and of the geographical features encountered — details which Banks almost entirely excluded from his own journal as mere matters of latitude and longitude. Shore happenings are, correspondingly, excluded from this version, and thus for many days there are no entries at all. The language is all Cook's, except that for Cook's first person Banks substitutes ‘the Cap<hi rend="sup">t</hi>’, and makes a number of other adaptations. There is also evidence of individual curiosity in the addition to the geographical names conferred by Cook of a number of native names collected by Banks himself, and of blank spaces left for other native names in Queen Charlotte Sound. Very oddly, where Cook had given the Maori names for the main islands of New Zealand, Banks omits these, and writes in pencil (the hand seems to be his) ‘the Northern Island’ and ‘the Southern Island’. The abstracting from Cook seems to have been done before Cook made his own corrections and redrafts: see Cook I, p. ccxli.</p>
                </item>
                <item>
                  <p>(iv) <hi rend="i">Grey MS</hi> 52. Six ff. small quarto; apparently a continuation of No. 51, 26 December 1770 to 9 July 1771; it is a bare record of the daily positions of the ship, with a few notes on landfalls and other observations.</p>
                </item>
              </list>
            </item>
            <item>
              <p>(2) ‘Mr B's Circuit round Otaheite June 1769’. This is a fragment of 8 pp. quarto in the Alexander Turnbull Library, in a folder entitled ‘Miscellaneous material relating to Cook's voyages’. It is in a quite small and very neat hand, to which can be attributed an even smaller fragment of a journal (possibly the midshipman <name type="person" key="name-401946">Jonathan Monkhouse</name>'s?), also in the Alexander Turnbull Library in the same folder, and the surviving portion of that of <name type="person" key="name-134496">William Brougham Monkhouse</name>, the surgeon, now in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> (see
							<pb xml:id="n192" n="147"/>
							Cook I, pp. ccxxxi-ii, ccxxxvii, 549–51, 564–87). It has one or two corrections by Banks himself. In spite of its character it did not come from Banks's collection, but from a source closely connected with Cook, and it was sold with Cook's own journal and other important Cook material at auction by Messrs Puttick and Simpson on 11 March 1868; it was bought by the dealer Waller who acquired so many of Banks's papers at Sotheby's in 1886. What happened to it between 1868 and its purchase by Mr Turnbull, and when he purchased it, is unknown, owing to the loss of a large portion of Turnbull's correspondence. Precisely how to account for its existence, or for its provenance with the Cook MSS, is difficult: I have suggested in the Textual Introduction to Cook I, p. ccxxxix, that it is a fair copy of an earlier form of Banks's account of his expedition with Cook round the island. This suggestion was a tentative one, founded on the feeling that Banks may have made other drafts of the nature of Grey MS 48. Closer study leaves little doubt: and a comparison with Cook's account of the expedition (Cook I, pp. 105–14) shows that it was after reading this that Cook discarded his own earlier version (ibid., pp. 531–4) for a new one founded closely on Banks, just as he utilized other portions of Banks's Tahitian descriptions. But in this case Banks himself wrote a new version; preserving the first, which must then have been transcribed for some special purpose. In the absence of evidence fruitful speculation is impossible on the relation of these few pages with the other MSS in the same hand. These ones are printed as Appendix II, Vol. II, pp. 302–7 below.</p>
            </item>
          </list>
        </div>
      </div>
      <div xml:id="t1-front-d15" type="section">
        <head><hi rend="c">Printing and Annotation</hi></head>
        <p>If Banks is to be read with any comfort, then something must be done to his text in printing it. On the other hand, not too much must be done, or something of the flavour of his rapid-running mind and pen departs. Something — though it may be merely superficial—is bound to depart in print anyhow: the problem is to conserve all that can be conserved. I have therefore adopted the following rules. (1) I have maintained Banks's own spelling and abbreviations; the exception here is his ampersand, which so often repeated would have been a needless offence to the eye, and is therefore consistently expanded. (2) Obvious slips and repetitions of small words have been silently corrected, but where it has seemed necessary letters or words supplied have been enclosed
					<pb xml:id="n193" n="148"/>
					in square brackets. Such words are generally vouched for by the texts of S or P, or both; where this is not so the word supplied is followed by a query. (3) After a good deal of hesitation, I have capitalized normally the names of persons, people and countries, whether used as nouns or as adjectives, not merely to avoid upsetting too much the reader's established expectations — which may not after all matter — but to get rid of the problem of Banks's own frequent indeterminate forms. Apart from this, I have retained capitals for nouns when Banks clearly intends them, and otherwise when they do not clutter up the page: this is arbitrary and perhaps illogical, but at least does keep some of the ‘feeling’ of the MS. I have imposed them at the beginnings of sentences. (4) I have, so far as possible in type, followed Banks's accents. (5) I have punctuated — enough, I hope, to render the sense easily intelligible, but without entering into refinements. (6) As Banks is highly inconsistent in his underlinings — e.g. of his scientific binomials — I have regularized this in type, and italicized according to modern practice, though retaining his capitals.</p>
        <p>To give the reader who may be interested a certain number of specimens of Banks unadulterated, I have, however, in the introduction, printed quotations from his letters and other journals as nearly as possible as he wrote them.</p>
        <p>In so long a text the question of division inevitably arises. I have retained Banks's paragraphing, but that does not answer the question. When faced by this mass of words, the reader may legitimately demand some relief for the eye. I have therefore divided the text, not into ‘chapters’, which might give a fundamentally false idea of what is, after all, one continuous piece of description, but into six parts, corresponding with the main divisions of the voyage: the passage to Tahiti; the sojourn there and the period in the <name key="name-032033" type="place">Society Islands</name>; New Zealand; New South Wales; New Guinea and the East Indies; and the passage from Batavia home. Inside these divisions I have broken the text only by cross-headings giving the month and the year — as an aid, as it were, to the reader's navigation. I have followed the original MS in placing the month at the head of the page. I have removed the memorandum on electrical experiments and Hulme's letter to Banks to an appendix, as I have done with his lists of fishes and plants.</p>
        <p>The annotation has presented a number of general problems, as well as innumerable particular ones. The aim has been, first, to make the journal intelligible in relation to the voyage as a whole, and secondly, to make the references in it intelligible in themselves.
					<pb xml:id="n194" n="149"/>
					This implies a body of annotation geographical, historical, and personal, ethnological, linguistic, botanical and zoological. I have tried not to exceed due bounds in this, but a good deal of explaining is sometimes necessary. The non-scientific reader may perhaps regard the botanical and zoological annotation in particular as being more than is called for. But to Banks the voyage was one of scientific enquiry, and his journal was a record not of navigation nor even, primarily, of geographical discovery, but of discovery in the field of natural history — however much his definition of natural history had in practice to be expanded. With the MSS of Solander and the drawings of Parkinson we have a precise and invaluable commentary on this side of the journal, and it would be a poor tribute to Banks and his companions that did not make the fullest possible use of these aids to comprehension. Indeed, in the Banksian Herbarium and other collections in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> (Natural History), and in the Mitchell Library, we have very many of the actual specimens they brought back.<note xml:id="fn1-149" n="1"><p>In the botanical notes, for instance, the reader will find more than one reference to the ‘Pocket Book’. This is a name bestowed by Dr Ramsbottom, late of the British Museum (Natural History) on a bound elephant folio of 147 ff. of which 146 bear small mounted vouchers of the larger specimens from the voyage, prepared for Banks's herbarium and now incorporated in the BMNH Herbarium. This bound series begins with Madeira and includes New Zealand, and there are a very few specimens which may represent Australia. These vouchers assume critical importance for certain monocotyledons where the principal specimen was damaged or lost during World War II.</p></note> The overt use made in footnotes of these MSS, drawings, and specimens will be found to vary, as will the detail of reference to them. Some of the botanical material, for example, has been well worked over by such men as <name type="person" key="name-401890">James Britten</name>, who used it for the three volumes of reproductions of the Australian plant engravings published in 1900–05. It has been assimilated into the corpus of botanical knowledge. At the same time, Banks's own lists in the journal of the plants collected at Madeira, at Rio de Janeiro, and in Tierra del Fuego, have not been thus worked over, and it is clear that proper scientific attention to these lists would mean a body of annotation valuable, certainly, as a contribution to botanical history, but tending on the whole to overweight the appendixes in one particular direction. The lists are printed, therefore, in Appendix I as a basis for desirable study; but that study is left to the interested expert.</p>
        <p>Banks's birds and fishes have not hitherto been adequately treated: with these, precise references are made to the sources and means of identification. When the location of an MS source is not given it is to be taken as belonging to the British Museum (Natural
					<pb xml:id="n195" n="150"/>
					History) collections — e.g. Solander Z4 is a Solander zoological MS thus classified;<note xml:id="fn1-150" n="1"><p>It consists of 512 pp. folio of descriptions in Latin of animals, vertebrate and invertebrate, collected on the voyage. It is carefully compiled, with notes on localities, some vernacular names, references to earlier descriptions, etc. The whole is a fair copy, not in Solander's hand; the original has disappeared.—Solander Z1 is an MS in Solander's hand: it consists of five sections now bound in one volume but paginated separately and irregularly. The sections are <hi rend="i">Pisces Australiae; Pisces etc. Novae Hollandiae; Pisces etc. Anim. caetera Oceani Pacifici; Animalia Javanensia &amp;capensia; Pisces Islandici.</hi>—Solander Z2 is a fair copy, not quite complete, of Z1.</p></note> Parkinson I [II, III] refers to volumes of Parkinson's drawings of birds and fish now in the Zoological Library of that museum. When no note at all is given on any phenomenon mentioned by Banks, either zoological or botanical, it may be taken that in the absence of detail it is not safely identifiable; or that, a scientific name having been given in the journal, that name remains unaltered.</p>
        <p>For the general human background in the Pacific, I may perhaps refer the reader to the ‘Note on Polynesian History’, printed in <hi rend="i">The Journals of Captain James Cook</hi>, I, pp. clxxii-cxcii. One particular problem which arose in connection with the ethnological side of the voyage was how to treat the vocabularies and the comparative philological data upon which Banks was so fond of dilating. After considerable thought and experiment I concluded that what was really called for was some general notes on the processes by which Banks arrived at his lists, and that no particular end would be served by giving equivalents in present-day conventional orthography. The non-philologist would be no further forward, and the philologist, having the primary material put before him, would prefer to make his own deductions in a field which is still open to scrutiny and discussion. With individual names and expressions, on the other hand, wherever there is little possibility of error — where, indeed, the point is really one of historical fact — I have given transliterations.</p>
        <p>A small number of notes will be found repeated, where Banks repeats statements already made. This repetition is not consistent, and is aimed mainly at refreshing the reader's mind without too much recourse to cross-reference. A little cross-reference seems essential.</p>
        <p>‘Cook I’, frequently cited, refers to <hi rend="i">The Journals of Captain James Cook</hi>, Volume I, <hi rend="i">The Voyage of the</hi> Endeavour (Cambridge University Press for the Hakluyt Society, 1955); ‘Cook II’ to the second volume of that edition, <hi rend="i">The Voyage of the</hi> Resolution <hi rend="i">and</hi> Adventure (1961). Where no number is given, the first volume is to be understood.</p>
      </div>
    </front>
    <pb xml:id="n196"/>
    <body xml:id="t1-body">
      <head><hi rend="c">The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> Journal of Joseph Banks</hi></head>
      <pb xml:id="n197"/>
      <pb xml:id="n198" n="153"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-body-d5" type="section">
        <head><hi rend="c">The Endeavour Journal of Joseph Banks</hi><lb/>
          <hi rend="c">I</hi></head>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d1" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">August</hi> 1768</head>
          <p>25. After having waited in this place ten days, the ship, and every thing belonging to me, being all that time in perfect readyness to sail at a moments warning,<note xml:id="fn1-153" n="1"><p>Banks begins with a rather extravagant statement. The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> had been at Plymouth since 14 August, on which day Cook ‘Dispatched an express to London for M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks and D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander to join the ship, their Servants and baggage being already on board’; but on the night of the 15th Banks was at the opera with <name type="person" key="name-401969">Miss Harriet Blosset</name>. H. B. de Saussure met them there, walked home with them and had supper. ‘Miss Blosset’, he says ‘not knowing that he was to start next day, was quite gay. Banks drank freely to hide his feelings. He promised to come and see me at Geneva and bring me some curios’. (See p. 31 above.) Presumably therefore he left London on the 16th and posted down to Plymouth. He and Solander did not go on board finally until the ship sailed. The ship was taking stores on board till the 19th; and it is not till the 21st that Cook records ‘The Shipwrights having finished their work, intended to have sail'd, instead of which was oblig'd to let go another anchor’, owing to gales and thick weather. Ship-wrights and joiners had been employed refitting ‘the Gentlemens Cabbins’ and making a platform over the tiller to facilitate their promenades.</p></note> we at last got a fair wind, and this day at 3 O'Clock in the even weigd anchor, and set sail, all in excellent health and spirits perfectly prepard (in Mind at least) to undergo with Chearfullness any fatigues or dangers that may occur in our intended Voyage.</p>
          <p>26. Wind still fair, but very light breezes; saw this Even a shoal of those fish which are particularly calld <hi rend="i">Porpoises</hi> by the seamen, probably the <hi rend="i">Delphinus Phocana</hi> of Linnæus,<note xml:id="fn2-153" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Phocaena phocaena</hi> (Linn.), the Common Porpoise.</p></note> as their noses are very blunt.</p>
          <p>27. Wind fair and a fine Breeze; found the ship to be but a heavy sailer, indeed we could not Expect her to be any other from her built, so are obligd to set down with this Inconvenience, as a nescessary consequence of her form; which is much more calculated for stowage, than for sailing.</p>
          <p>28. Little wind today; in some sea water, which was taken on board to season a cask, observed a very minute sea Insect, which D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander describd by the name of <hi rend="i">Podura marina</hi>.<note xml:id="fn3-153" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Podura</hi> is an insect genus: Solander (MS Z4, p. 279) described a tiny shrimp which has not been identified.</p></note> In the Evening
						<pb xml:id="n199" n="154"/>
						very calm; with the small casting net took several specimens of <hi rend="i">Medusa Pelagica</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-154" n="1"><p>A species of <hi rend="i">Pelagia</hi> of which Parkinson made five charming paintings, III, pl. 54, and which was described in detail by Solander, p. 471.</p></note> whose different motions in swimming amus'd us very much: among the appendages to this animal we found also a new species of <hi rend="i">oniscus</hi>.<note xml:id="fn2-154" n="2"><p>Possibly ‘<hi rend="i">O. Macropthalmos</hi>’, or ‘<hi rend="i">Onidium</hi>’ of 7 Sept. (p. 158); Parkinson's drawing of <hi rend="i">Onidium quadricorne</hi> (III, pl. 18) dated 28 Aug. 1768 was identified by Stebbing in 1888 as the amphipod <hi rend="i">Hyperia medusarum</hi> (O. F. Müller). <hi rend="i">Challenger Repts.</hi>, Zoology, xxix, 1617.</p></note> We took also another animal, quite different from any we had Ever seen; it was of an angular figure, about 3 inches long and one thick, with a hollow passing quite through it. On one end was a Brown spot, which might be the stomach of the animal.</p>
          <p>Four of these, the whole number that we took, adherd together when taken by their sides; so that at first we imagind them to be one animal, but upon being put into a glass of water they very soon separated and swam briskly about the water.<note xml:id="fn3-154" n="3"><p>The cluster (angular figure), was the aggregate form of <hi rend="i">Pegea confoederata</hi> Forskål, a salp. Solander described it as <hi rend="i">Dagysa saccata</hi>, p. 489; Parkinson III, pl. 27, lower figs.</p></note></p>
          <p>29. Wind foul: Morning employd in finishing the Drawings of the animals taken yesterday till the ship got so much motion that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Parkinson could not set to his Pencil; in the Evening wind still Fresher so much as to make the night very uncomfortable.</p>
          <p>30. Wind still Foul, ship in violent motion, but towards Evening much more quiet: Now for the first time my Sea sickness left me, and I was sufficiently well to write.</p>
          <p>31. Wind Freshend again this morn; observ'd about the Ship several of the Birds calld by the seamen Mother Careys chickens, <hi rend="i">Procellaria Pelagica</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn4-154" n="4"><p>Mother Carey's Chickens: either the Common Storm Petrel <hi rend="i">Hydrobates pelagicus</hi> or the Madeiran Storm Petrel <hi rend="i">Oceanodroma castro</hi> (Harcourt); they are not easily distinguished in flight.—Mother Carey: a name derived from <hi rend="i">Madre Caria</hi>; sailors believed that the Virgin Mary sent the storm petrels to warn them of approaching tempests. S, at a later stage (after copying Banks's description of Tierra del Fuego, pp. 224–9 below) includes a separate page on this subject: ‘Mother Careys Chickens [footnote: ‘The right Mother Careys Chicken, is much like a Blackbird’] or other Birds called Mother Careys: are those that live 8 or 10 Months at Sea, without going upon Land: therefore when Seamen see them, they are not sure of being near Land, as they are when they see other Birds. The Tradition of their being called by that name, was, that some years ago one Mother Carey lived in New York, and was reputed by the Sailors a Witch: and they were afraid of her. The Family of the Careys (are said) now to live at New York. Mother Careys Successors’.</p></note> which were thought by them to be a sure presage of a storm, as indeed it provd, for before night it blew so hard as to bring us under our Courses,<note xml:id="fn5-154" n="5"><p>The lowest sails on the fore and main masts—i.e. the foresail and the mainsail. Cook, who was not concerned with his passengers’ sea-sickness, records that the gale ‘Washed over board a small boat belonging to the Boatswain and drown'd between 3 and 4 Doz<hi rend="sup">n</hi> of our Poultry which was worst of all’.</p></note> and make me very sea sick again.</p>
        </div>
        <pb xml:id="n200" n="155"/>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d2" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">September</hi> 1768</head>
          <p>1. Still Blew, Mother Careys chickens had not yet left us, but towards night wind slackened so that we were again tolerably easy; by our reckoning we must make some part of the coast of Spain before Morning.</p>
          <p>2. This Morn about 7 saw the coast of Gallicia between. Cape Ortegal and Finisterre; weather tolerably fine, so that we could use the casting net, which brought up two kinds of Animals, different from any before taken; they came up in Clusters, both sorts indifferen[t]ly in each Cluster, tho much fewer of the Horned ones than of the others. They seem to [be] two species of one genus, but are not at all reducible to any genus hitherto describd.</p>
          <p>3. Blew fresh this morn. We were employd all day in describing the animals taken yesterday; found them to be of a new genus and of the same with that taken on the 28 of August Calld the genus <hi rend="i">Dagysa</hi> from the likeness of one Species to a Gem.<note xml:id="fn1-155" n="1"><p>A salp, <hi rend="i">Thalia democratica</hi> Forskål. <hi rend="i">Dagysa</hi> is Greek for a gem. The aggregate form was described by Solander both as <hi rend="i">Dagysa gemma</hi> and <hi rend="i">D. serena</hi>, and the solitary one as <hi rend="i">D. cornuta</hi> (pp. 485, 507 and 497). Parkinson's drawings are in III, pls. 27 (upper figure), 35, and 31 (upper figure), respectively.</p></note> Towards Even wind fair Settled tolerably fine.</p>
          <p>4. Calm today; we were employd in fishing with the casting net and were fortunate in taking several specimens of <hi rend="i">Dagysa saccata</hi><note xml:id="fn2-155" n="2"><p>Now known as <hi rend="i">Pegea confoederata</hi> Forskål. See 28 August above.</p></note> adhering together, sometimes to the Lengh of a yard or more, and shining in the water with very beautifull Colours; but another insect which we took today was possest of more beautiful Colouring than any thing in nature I have ever seen, hardly excepting gemms. He is of a new genus and calld of which we took another species who had no beauty to boast, but this which we called <hi rend="i">opalinum</hi> shone in the water with all the splendor and variety of colours that we observe in a real opal; he livd in the Glass of salt water in which he was put for examination several hours; darting about with great agility, and at every motion shewing an almost infinite variety of changeable colours.<note xml:id="fn3-155" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Carcinium opalinum</hi>, a copepod belonging to the genus <hi rend="i">Sapphirina</hi>: Parkinson III, pl. 21, top figure, and Solander, p. 353.</p></note> Towards the Evening of this day a new phaenomenon appeard, the sea was almost coverd with a small species of Crabbs <hi rend="i">Cancer depurator</hi> of Linnæus,<note xml:id="fn4-155" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Polybius henslowi</hi> (Leach). See Parkinson III, pl. 8, and Solander, p. 327. The unsigned painting of this little crab is bound with Parkinson's work but is in fact by Buchan; this is confirmed in Dryander's MS catalogue of the zoological drawings in Banks's library.</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n201" n="156"/>
						floating upon the surface of the water, and moving themselves with tolerable agility, as if the surface of the water and not the bottom was their Proper station. Here again as usual our casting net was of great service, we took with it as many as were wanted, and went to bed well contented with the Produce of the day.</p>
          <p>5. I Forgot to mention yesterday that two birds were caught in the rigging, who probably had come from Spain, as we were not then distant above 5 or 6 Leagues,<note xml:id="fn1-156" n="1"><p>At noon, says Cook, Cape Finisterre was south by east distant 4 leagues.</p></note> this morning another was caught, and brought to me, but so weak that it dyed in my hand almost immediately; they were all three of the same species, and not describd by Linnæus, we calld them <hi rend="i">Motacilla velificans</hi>, as they must be sailors who would venture themselves aboard a ship which is going round the world.<note xml:id="fn2-156" n="2"><p>These were <hi rend="i">Oenanthe oenanthe</hi>, European Wheatears, on migration to their winter quarters in Africa. There is a signed and dated drawing of one of them by Parkinson, I, pl. 38b.</p></note> But to make some balance to our good fortune now become too prevalent, a misfortune happned this morn, equaling almost the worst which our enemies could have wishd; the morn was calm and Richmond employd in searching for what should appear on the surface of the water, a shoal of dagysa's were observd and he Eagar to take some of them threw the cast-net fastned to nothing but his wrist, the string slippd from him and the net at once sunk into the profound never more to torment its inhabitants but Leaving us for some time intirely without a resource, plenty of animals coming past the ship, and no netts but in the hold, stowd under so many things that it was impossible even to hope for their being got out today at least, however an old hoop net was fastned to a fishing rod, and with it one new speces of Dagysa was caught and calld <hi rend="i">Lobata.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-156" n="3"><p>A salp, <hi rend="i">Cyclosalpa pinnata</hi> Forskál. Parkinson III, pl. 30, and Solander p. 495.</p></note></p>
          <p>6. Fine and calm this morn, immence numbers of <hi rend="i">Dagysa Lobata</hi> floated by, and were taken by our new contrivance, some of them in clusters as many as 14 together, united by a Lobe on the underside. Towards the Middle of the day the sea was almost coverd with dagysa's of different kinds among which two intirely new ones were taken, <hi rend="i">rostrata</hi> and <hi rend="i">strumosa</hi><note xml:id="fn4-156" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Dagysa rostrata</hi> was the MS name given by Solander, p. 503, to the aggregate form of the salp <hi rend="i">Thetys vagina</hi> Tilesius; his <hi rend="i">Dagysa strumosa</hi>, p. 505, is the solitary form of the same species. Both were painted by Parkinson, III, pls. 33, 34.</p></note> but neither of these were observd hanging in clusters as most of the other Species had been, indeed whether from the badness of the new machine or their scarcity I cannot say; only one of <hi rend="i">rostrata</hi> and two of <hi rend="i">strumosa</hi> were taken.
						<pb xml:id="n202" n="157"/>
						It is now time to give some account of the genus of Dagysa, of which there are already six species taken, all agreeing in many particulars vastly well but cheifly in this very singular one, that they have a hole at each end, which holes Communicate by a tube, often as large as the body of the animal, by the help of which they swim with some degree of activity when seperated from each other, for several sorts are seen most generaly Joind together, <hi rend="i">gemma</hi><note xml:id="fn1-157" n="1"><p>i.e. ‘buds’.</p></note> more particularly which adhere in clusters of some hundreds irregularly shap'd; in the midst of these were generaly found a few specimens of <hi rend="i">cornuta</hi>, from which circamstance we may Judge that they are very nearly allied.</p>
          <p>It seems singular that no naturalist before this time should have taken notice of thise animals as they abound so much where the ship now is, not twenty Leagues from the coast of <name key="name-007594" type="place">Spain</name>; from hence however great hopes may be formd, that the inhabitants of the deep have been but little examind, and as D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and my self shall have probably greater opportunity in the course of this voyage than any one has had before us, it is a very incouraging circumstance to hope that so large a feild of natural history has remaind almost untrod, even till this time, and that we may be able from this circumstance alone (almost unthought of when we embarkd in the undertaking) to add considerable Light to the science which we so eagerly Pursue.</p>
          <p>This Evening a large quantity of the <hi rend="i">Carcinium opalinum</hi> which may be calld opal insect came under the ships stern, making the very sea appear with uncommon bea[u]ty, their colours appearing with vast brightness even at the depth of two or three fathoms, tho they are not more than three lines<note xml:id="fn2-157" n="2"><p>‘Line’ as a unit of measurement, one-twelfth of an inch. The axiom that twelve lines make one inch is still proclaimed in Australian school-tables.</p></note> long and one broad.</p>
          <p>7. On examining the Dagysa's which were taken yesterday, several small animals were found Lodgd in the hollow parts of their bodys, and some in the very substance of the flesh, which seems to be their food, as many of the dagysas were full of scars which had undoubtedly been the Lodgment of these animals some time before; upon a minute inspection they provd to be animals not to be class'd under any of Linnæus's genera tho nearly related to <hi rend="i">Oniscus</hi>, from which Circumstance the name of <hi rend="i">Onidium</hi> was given to the new genus,<note xml:id="fn3-157" n="3"><p>These small crustacean parasites were hyperiid amphipods. Parkinson's drawings of them (III, pl. 18) were discussed by Stebbing (Amphipoda, <hi rend="i">Challenger Repts.</hi>, 1888, Zoology, xxix, p. 1617). He did not know of Solander's MS notes, pp. 357–68, on them.</p></note> and to them was added an animal taken the 28<hi rend="sup">th</hi> of
						<pb xml:id="n203" n="158"/>
						August and mentiond in the second Page by the name of <hi rend="i">Oniscus Macropthalmos</hi>.<note xml:id="fn1-158" n="1"><p>No description of <hi rend="i">O. macropthalmus</hi> is known; it may be Parkinson's <hi rend="i">Onidium quadricorne</hi> (p. 154, n. 2). Amphipods have a pair of compound eyes but in most copepods there is a single median eye. See also October 7 with reference to <hi rend="i">Cystisoma spinosum</hi> in which the very large compound eyes are separated only by a thin membrane which is very difficult to detect. The ‘second Page’ is of course the second page of his journal.</p></note></p>
          <p>In one circumstance these insects differ from any hitherto describd, and in that they all three agree, viz the having two Eyes joind together under one common membrane, without the least distinction or division between them, which circumstance alone seems a sufficient reason for constituting a new genus.</p>
          <p>The wind was now fair and we went very pleasantly on towards our destind port, tho rather too fast for any natural Enquiries, for my own part I could well dispence with<note xml:id="fn2-158" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">dispence with</hi> in its now obsolete sense of ‘put up with’.</p></note> a much slower pace, but I fancy few in the ship, D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander excepted, are of the same opinion, tho I beleive Every body envyed our easy contented countenances during the last Calm, which brought so much food to our pursuits.</p>
          <p>8. Blew fresh today, but the wind was very fair so nobody complaind, nor would they was the wind much stronger, so impatient has the Calms and foul wind made every body; by the reckoning we were off Cape S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Vincent so shall soon bid adieu to Europe for some time.</p>
          <p>10. Since the northerly wind began to blow it has not varied a point, the Sea is now down and we go pleasantly on at the rate of about 6 Knotts; could any contrivance be found by the help of which new subjects of natural history could be taken D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself would be Quite happy, we are forc'd to be content; three days are now passd since any thing has been taken or indeed seen, except a stray turtle who swam by the ship about noon, but was left far behind before any instrument by which he might have been taken could possibly have been got to hand.</p>
          <p>Today for the first time we dind in Africa,<note xml:id="fn3-158" n="3"><p>He appears to mean they were in an African latitude: Cook gives the noon position as lat. 35° 20'N. long. 13° 28'W.</p></note> and took our leave of Europe for heaven alone knows how long, perhaps for Ever; that thought demands a sigh as a tribute due to the memory of freinds left behind and they have it; but two cannot be spard, twold give more pain to the sigher, than pleasure to those sighd for. Tis Enough that they are rememberd, they would not wish to be too much thought of by one so long to be seperated from them and left alone to the Mercy of winds and waves.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n204" n="159"/>
          <p>11. Wind fair but rather slackend upon us, nothing however was observ'd, we expected to have made Porto Santo<note xml:id="fn1-159" n="1"><p>The small island north-east of Madeira.</p></note> tonight but did not.</p>
          <p>12. This morn Porto Santo and Madeira were in full veiw, they were seen at day break, indeed we had a little overshot them; as the wind was rather scanty we had however no doubt of fetching in at night. Accordingly at ten tonight came to an anchor in Fonchiale<note xml:id="fn2-159" n="2"><p>i.e. Funchal.</p></note> bay.</p>
          <p>13. This morn about 11 the product<note xml:id="fn3-159" n="3"><p>‘Pratique’.</p></note> boat (as it is calld by English Sailors) which is the boat from the oficers of health who must give leave before any ships crew can land, came on board, and we immediately went on shore in the town of Fonchiale, the Capital of the Island, situate in Latitude 32:40 North, calld so from the Fennel which grows in plenty upon the rocks in its neighbourhood and which is calld Funcho in the Portugese Language. Here we immediately went to the house of the English Consul M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Cheap, one of the first merchants in the place, where we were receivd with uncommon marks of civility; he insisted upon our taking possession of his house and living intirely with him during our stay which we did and were by him furnishd with every accomodation that we could wish. Leave was procurd by him for us to search the Island for whatever natural productions we might find worth taking notice of, people were also employd to procure for us fish and shells which we could not have spard time to have collected ourselves, horses and Guides were also got for D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself to carry us to any part of the Island which we might chuse to visit. But our very short stay which was only five Days inclusive made it impossible to go to any distance, so we contented ourselves with collecting as much as we could in the neighbourhood of the town, never going above three miles from it during our whole stay.</p>
          <p>The season of the year was undoubtedly the worst for both plants and insects, being the hight of the vintage, when nothing is green in the countrey but just on the verge of small brooks, by which these vines are waterd; we made shift however to collect specimens of several plants, &amp;c: of which a catalogue follows<note xml:id="fn4-159" n="4"><p>See Appendix I, Vol. II, pp. 281–9 below.</p></note> as it is not worth while to mix them in the Journal, where they would take up much room.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n205" n="160"/>
          <p>The five days which we remained upon the Island were spent so exactly in the same manner, that it is by no means nescessary to divide them, I shall therefore only say, that in general we got up in the Morn, went out on our researches, retur[n]d to dine, and went out again in the Evening; one day however we had a visit from the Governor, of which we had notice before and were obligd to stay at home, so that unsought honour lost us very near the whole day, a very material part of the short time we were allowd to stay upon the Island: we however contrivd to revenge ourselves upon his excellency, by an Electrical machine which we had on board; upon his expressing a desire to see it we sent for it ashore, and shockd him full as much as he chose.<note xml:id="fn1-160" n="1"><p>The particulars Banks gives of his electrical machine, ‘made by Ramsden’ (see Appendix 1,), inform us that he was quite up-to-date with his apparatus. It was in this same year 1768 that <name type="person" key="name-150224">Jesse Ramsden</name> (1735–1800), one of the celebrated instrument- makers of the time, first constructed his plate electrical machine, an assemblage of glass plate rotated by a winch, leather rubbers, insulated metal forks and an insulated conductor. Electrical experiments were very popular among the philosophical at this period, and it was only two years since Priestley, in 1766, had discovered his fundamental Law of Inverse Squares. Banks seems never to have got beyond the experiments he refers to here and the use of his machine for practical jokes upon unsuspecting persons.</p></note></p>
          <p>While at this place we were much indebted to D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Heberden, the cheif Physitian of the Island, and brother to the Physitian of that name at London; he had for many years been an inhabitant of the Canaries and this Island, and had made several observations cheifly philosophical, some however were Botanical, describing the trees of the Island: of these he immediately gave us a copy, together with such specimens as he had in his possession, and indeed spard no pains to get for us such living specimens of such as could be procurd in flower.<note xml:id="fn2-160" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-402046">Thomas Heberden</name> (1703–69) practised both at Teneriffe and at Funchal. He was elected F.R.S. in 1761. Between 1756 and 1769 he communicated to the Royal Society's <hi rend="i">Philosophical Transactions</hi> a number of papers on his observations in Madeira, mainly geological and meteorological—Banks's ‘chiefly philosophical’; he was the first of a number of Heberdens who distinguished themselves in meteorology. His description of trees does not seem to have been a <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> paper; perhaps he gave his visitors an MS copy.—See Solander's praise of him to Ellis, II, p. 309 below. It was to commemorate him that Banks and Solander conferred the name <hi rend="i">Heberdenia</hi>, now a synonym of <hi rend="i">Ardisia.</hi> His London brother was <name type="person" key="name-402229">William Heberden</name> (1710–1801), famous for learning and benevolence as well as for his professional skill—Cowper's ‘Virtuous and faithful Heberden’ and Johnson's ‘ultimus Romanorum’.</p></note></p>
          <p>We tryed here to learn what Species of wood it is which has been imported into England, and is now known to Cabinet makers by the name of Madeira mahogeny, but without much success, as we could not learn that any wood had been exported out of the Island by that name; the wood however of the tree calld here Vigniatico, <hi rend="i">Laurus indicus</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn3-160" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Persea indica</hi> (L.) Spr. ‘Vinhatico’.</p></note> bidds fair to be the thing, it being
						<pb xml:id="n206" n="161"/>
						of a fine grain and brown like mahogeny, from which it is dificult to distinguish it, which is well shewn at D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Heberdens house where in a bookcase vigniatico and mahogeny were placd close by each other, and were only to be known asunder by the first being not quite so dark colourd as the other.</p>
          <p>As much of the Island as we saw shewd evidently the signs of a volcano having some time or other possibly produced the whole; as we saw no one peice of stone which did not evidently shew signs of having been burnt, some very much, especialy the sand which was absolutely cinders. Indeed we did not see much of the countrey, but we were told that the whole was like the specimen we saw of it.</p>
          <p>When you first aproach it from seaward it has a very beautifull appearance, the sides of the hills being intirely coverd with vineyards almost as high as the eye can distinguish, which make a constant appearance of verdure tho at this time nothing but the vines remaind green, the grass and herbs being intirely burnt up except near the sides of the rills of water by which the vines are waterd, and under the shade of the vines themselves; tho these very few Species of plants were in perfection the greater part being burnt up.</p>
          <p>The people here in general seem to be as idle, or rather unin-formd a set as I ever yet saw; all their instruments, even those with which their wine, the only article of trade in the Island is made, are perfectly simple and unimprovd. Their method is this: the Grapes are put into a square wooden vessel, of dimensions according to the size of the vineyard to which it belongs, into which the servants get (having taken off their stockins and Jackets) and with their feet and Elbows squeeze out as much of the Juice as they can; the stalks &amp;c are then collected, tyed together with a rope and put under a square peice of wood which is pressd down by a Leaver, to the other end of which is fastned a stone that may be raisd up at pleasure by a screw; by this way and this only they make their wine, and by this way probably Noah made his when he had newly planted the first vineyard after the general destruction of mankind and their arts; tho it is not impossible that he might have used a better, if he rememberd the ways he had seen us'd before the flood.</p>
          <p>It was with great dificulty that some (and not as yet all) of them were persuaded not long ago to graft their vines and by this means bring all the fruit of a vineyard to be of one sort, tho before the vine which it producd had been spoild by different sorts of bad ones which were nevertheless sufferd to grow, and taken as much
						<pb xml:id="n207" n="162"/>
						care of as the best, because they added to the quantity of the wine. Yet were they perfectly acquainted with the use of grafting, and constantly practisd it on their chestnut trees, by which means they were brought to bear sooner much than they would have done had they been allowd to remain unimprovd.</p>
          <p>Wheel carriages I saw none in the Island of any sort or kind, indeed their roads are so intolerably bad that if they had them they could scarcely make use of them: they have however some horses and mules, wonderfully clever in traveling upon them, notwithstanding which they bring to town every drop of wine they make upon mens heads, in vessells made of goat skins. The only imitation of a carriage they have, is a board a little hollowd out in the middle, to one end of which a pole is tyed by a strap of whitleather,<note xml:id="fn1-162" n="1"><p>‘Leather of a white or light colour and soft pliant consistence, prepared by dressing with alum and salt, so as to retain the natural colour.’—O.E.D.</p></note> the whole machine comeing about as near the perfection of a European cart as an Indian canoe does to a boat with this they move the pipes of wine about the town. Indeed I suppose they would never have made use even of this had not the English introd[u]ced vessels to put their wine in which were rather too large to be carried by hand, as they used to do every thing else.</p>
          <p>A speech of their late governeur is recorded here, which shews in what light they are lookd upon even by the Portugese, (themselves I beleive far behind all the rest of Europe, except possibly the Spaniards): it was very fortunate said he that this Island was not Eden in which Adam and Eve dwelt before the fall, for had it been so the inhabitants here would never have been induc'd to put on Cloaths; so much are they resolvd in every particular to follow exactly the paths of their forefathers.</p>
          <p>Indeed were the people here only tolerably industrious, there is scarcely any Luxury which might [not] be produc'd that either Europe or the Indies afford, owing to the great difference of Climate observable in ascending the hills; this we experien[c]d in a visit to D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Heberden, who lives about two miles from the town, we left the Thermometer when we set out at 74 and found it there at 66. Indeed the hills produce almost spontaneously vast plenty of Wall-nutts, chestnutts, and apples, but in the town you find some few plants natives of both the Indies, whose flourishing state put it out of all doubt that were they taken any care of they might have any quantity of them. Of these I mention some: the Banana tree, (<hi rend="i">Musa sapientum</hi> Linn.) in great abundance; the guava (<hi rend="i">Psidium</hi>
						<pb xml:id="n208" n="163"/>
						<hi rend="i">pyriferum</hi> Linn.)<note xml:id="fn1-163" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Psidium guajava</hi> L., probably introduced from Brazil by the Portuguese.</p></note> not uncommon; the pine apple, <hi rend="i">Bromelia ananas</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn2-163" n="2"><p>Now known as <hi rend="i">Ananas comosus</hi> (L.) Merr.</p></note> of this I saw some very healthy plants in the provadores<note xml:id="fn3-163" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Provadore</hi> or <hi rend="i">provedore, provedor</hi>, purveyor or contractor; probably he means the agent who supplied the ship.</p></note> Garden; Mango, <hi rend="i">Mangifera indica</hi> Linn. one plant also of this in the same garden Bearing fruit every year; Cinnamon, <hi rend="i">Laurus cinnamomum</hi> Linn. very healthy plants of this I saw on the top of D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Heberdens house at Fonchiale, which had stood there through the winter without any kind of Care having been taken of them. These without mentioning any more seem very sufficient to shew that the tenderest plants might be cultivated here without any trouble; yet the indolence of the inhabitants is so great, that even that is too much for them; indeed the policy of the English here is to hinder them as much as possible from growing any thing themselves except what they find their account in taking in exchange for Corn, tho the people might with much Less trouble and expence grow the corn themselves. What corn grows here, which indeed is not much, is of a most excellent quality, Large graind, and very fine; their meat also is very good, mutton, pork, and beef more especialy, of which what we had on board the ship was agreed by all of us to be very little inferior to our own; tho <hi rend="i">we Englishmen</hi> value ourselves not a little on our peculiar excellence in that production. The fat of this was white like the fat of mutton, yet the meat Brown, and coarse graind as ours, tho much smaller.</p>
          <p>The town of Fonchiale is situated at the Bottom of the Bay, very ill Built, tho larger than the size of the Island seems to deserve. The houses of the bettermost people are in general large but those of the poorer sort very small, and the streets very narrow and uncommonly ill pavd. The Churches here have abundance of ornaments, cheifly bad pictures and figures of their favourite saints in lac'd cloaths; the Convent of the Franciscans indeed which we went to See had very little ornament; but the neatness with which those fathers kept everything was well worthy of commendation, especialy their infirmary, the contrivance of which deserves to be taken particular notice of; it was a long room, on one side of which were windows, and an altar for the convenience of administering the sacrament to the sick; on the other were the wards, each just capable of containing a bed, and lind with white duch<note xml:id="fn4-163" n="4"><p>i.e. Dutch.</p></note> tiles; to every one of these was a door communicating with a gallery which ran paralel to the great room, so that any of the sick might
						<pb xml:id="n209" n="164"/>
						be supplied with whatever they wanted without disturbing their neighbours.</p>
          <p>In this Convent was a curiosity of a very singular nature; a small chapel whose whole lining, wainscote, and ceiling, was intirely compos'd of human bones, two large thigh bones across, and a
						<figure xml:id="Bea01Bank164a"><graphic url="Bea01Bank164a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01Bank164a-g"/></figure>
						skull in each of the openings. Among these was a very singular anatomical curiosity, a skull in which one side of the Lower jaw was perfectly and very firmly fastned to the upper by an ossification, so that the man whoever he was must have livd some time without being able to open his mouth, indeed it was plain on the other side that a hole had been made by beating out his teeth, and in some measure damaging his Jaw bone, by which alone he must have receivd his nourishment.</p>
          <p>I must not leave these good fathers without mentioning a thing which does great credit to their civility, and at the same time shews that they are not bigots to their religion: we visited them on Thursday Even just before their supper time; they made many apologies that they could not ask us to sup, not being prepard; but said they, if you will come tomorrow, notwishstanding it is fast with us, we will have a turkey roasted for you.</p>
          <p>There are here, beside friarys, 3 or 4 houses of nunns. To one of these (Sa'nta Clara) we went, and indeed the ladies did us the honour to express great pleasure in seeing us there; they had heard that we were great Philosophers, and expected much from us, one of the first questions that they askd was, when it would thunder; they then desird to know if we could put them in a way of finding water in their convent, which it seems they were in want of; but notwishstanding our answers to these questions were not quite so much to the purpose as they expected, they did not at all cease their civilities, for while we stayd, which was about half an hour, I am sure there was not the fraction of a second in which their tongues did not go at an uncommonly nimble rate.</p>
          <p>It remains now that I should say something of the Island in general, and then take my leave of Madeira till some other opportunity offers of visiting it again, for the climate is so fine that any man might wish it was in his power to live here under the benefits of English laws and liberty.</p>
          <p>The hills here are very high, much higher than any one would imagine, <name type="place" key="name-401767">Pico Ruevo</name> the highest is 5068 f<hi rend="sup">t</hi><note xml:id="fn1-164" n="1"><p>The height of <name type="place" key="name-401767">Pico Ruivo</name> is 6056 feet.</p></note> which is much higher than any land that has been measured in Great Britain; indeed
						<pb xml:id="n210" n="165"/>
						as I hinted before the whole Island has probably been the production of a Volcano, notwishstanding which its fertility is amazing, all the sides of the hills are coverd with vines to a certain hight, above which are woods of chestnut and pine of immense extent; and above them forests of wild timber of kinds not known in Europe, which amply supply the inhabitants with whatever they may want. Among these some there were whose flowers we were not able to procure and consequently could not settle their Genera, particularly those calld by the Portugese <hi rend="i">Mirmulano</hi><note xml:id="fn1-165" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Apollonias canariensis</hi> Nees.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Pao branco</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-165" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Oreodaphne foeteus</hi> (Ait.) Nees &lt;JDH&gt;; now <hi rend="i">Ocotea foeteus</hi> (Ait.) Webb and Berthel. Specimens of both this and <hi rend="i">Apollonias canariensis</hi> survive from the voyage. Here and elsewhere &lt;JDH&gt; signifies an identification made by Hooker in his edition of Banks's journal.</p></note> both which, and especialy the first, from the Beauty of their leaves promise to be a great ornament to our European gardens.</p>
          <p>The inhabitants here are supposd to be about 80,000; and from the town of Fonchiale (its custom house I mean) the King of Portugal receives 20000 pounds a year, after having paid the Governor and all expences of every kind, which may serve to shew in some degree the consequence which this little Island is of to the crown of Portugal; was it in the hands of any other people in the world its value might easily be doubled, from the excellence of its climate capable of bearing any kind of crop, a circumstance which the Portugese do not make the least advantage of.</p>
          <p>The Coin current here is intirely Spanish, for the Balance of trade with Lisbon being in disfavour of this Island all the Portugese money naturaly goes there, to prevent which Spanish money is allowd to pass: it is of three denominations, Pistereens, Bitts, and £½ bitts; the first worth about <hi rend="sub">I</hi> shilling, the 2nd 6 pence, the third 3 pence; they have also Portugese money of Copper, but so scarce that I did not in my stay there see a single peice.</p>
          <p>18. This Evening every thing being ready for sea, we went on board, and at 8 o'Clock got under way with a very light breeze.</p>
          <p>19. Light Breezes all day, without any event worth writing about.</p>
          <p>20. Still almost calm, which gave us an opportunity of taking with the casting nett a most beautifull species of Medusa, of a colour equaling if not exceeding the finest ultramarine; it was describd and calld <hi rend="i">Medusa azurea.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-165" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Porpita porpita.</hi> There are two sets of paintings of this animal by Parkinson, III, pls. 44, 45, and a description by Solander, pp. 447–8, who assigned it to the correct Linnean species.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n211" n="166"/>
          <p>21. This morn wind foul, saw however some rocks call'd in the old charts Salvages<note xml:id="fn1-166" n="1"><p>A small group of islets and rocks south of Madeira, and just north of the 30th parallel.</p></note> which lay to the northward of the Canarys.</p>
          <p>22. No land in sight this morn, towards noon almost calm, many fish were about the ship, but our fishermen could not contrive to catch any of them.</p>
          <p>23. This morn we were calld up very early to see the pike of Teneriffe, which now for the first time appeard at a vast distance much above the clouds (I mean those which form a bank near the Horizon); the hill itself was so faint, that no man who was not used to the appearance of land at a great distance could tell it from a cloud, it soon however appeard something clearer and a sketch was made of it.</p>
          <p>While we were engagd in looking at the hill a fish was taken which was describ'd and called <hi rend="i">Scomber serpens;</hi><note xml:id="fn2-166" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Gempylus serpens</hi> Cuv. The first of these rather rare oceanic fishes known to science was the specimen belonging to <name type="person" key="name-400659">Sir Hans Sloane</name>, to which Banks refers. This second one was described by Solander, pp. 269–70; it was 37 inches long. The only specimen now in the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> is but an inch or so long and was brought back from one of the cruises of the <hi rend="i">Discovery</hi>. Another of these fishes was taken by the <hi rend="i">Kon-Tiki.</hi>—S gives the name of the fish as ‘Hember Serpens’, and appends a note, ‘For the future shall omit copying the Latin names and instead of them only put a serpentine dash [an illustrative wavy line follows] to avoid numberless mistakes’. This note is repeated from time to time in her manuscript, but will not be repeated in the following pages.</p></note> the seamen said they had never seen such a one before except the first lieutenant, who rememberd to have taken one before just about these Islands; S<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hans Sloane in his Passage out to Jamaica also took one of these fish which he gives a figure of, Vol.1, T.1, f.2.<note xml:id="fn3-166" n="3"><p>Sir Hans Sloane (1660–1753) the physician, naturalist and collector. Banks's reference is to his <hi rend="i">Voyage to the Islands Madera, Barbadoes, Nieves, St Christopher's and Jamaica, with the Natural History…. of the last</hi>… (2 vols. folio, London 1707, 1725). Sloane, an Irishman, studied medicine at Paris and Montpellier, and botany at the latter, and became a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1685. In 1687 he went to the West Indies as physician to the Duke of Albemarle, the governor of Jamaica, and for fifteen months made observations and collections of natural history. He brought 800 specimens of plants back to London, the foundation of his <hi rend="i">Catalogus Plantarum quae in Insula Jamaica sponte proveniunt, vel vulgo coluntur</hi> (1696). He was secretary of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> 1693–1712; and on Newton's death in 1727 was elected its president, remaining so till 1741. The first volume of his <hi rend="i">Voyage</hi> brought him European fame as a scientist, while his eminence in medicine gave him a large practice, which included the persons of Queen Anne and George II. Generous throughout his life, he bequeathed his noble collections of natural history, manuscripts and books, which had cost him £50,000, to the nation, on condition that £20,000 was paid to his family. This was done, and Sloane thus became virtually the founder of the British Museum.—‘T.1, f.2’: Tabula 1, figura 2.</p></note></p>
          <p>The Pike continued in sight almost all day, tho sometimes obscurd by the clouds; at sunset however its appearance was most truely elegant, the rays of the sun remaining upon it sometime after it was set and the other land quite Black, and giving it a warmth of colour not to be express'd by painting.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n212" n="167"/>
          <p>24. This Morn the Pike appeard very plain and immensely above the clouds, as may well be imagin'd by its hight which D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Heberden of Madeira who has been himself upon it communicated to us, 15,396 feet.<note xml:id="fn1-167" n="1"><p>Its highest point is 12,200 feet.</p></note> The D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> also says that tho there is no eruption of visible fire from it, yet heat issues from the chinks near the top so strongly that a person who putts his hand upon these is scalded; from him we receivd among many other favours some salt which he supposes to be the true natron or nitrum of the ancients, and some native sulphur exceedingly pure, both which he collected himself on the top of the mountain, where large quantities, especialy of the salt, are found on the surface of the Earth.<note xml:id="fn2-167" n="2"><p>The sulphur is understandable, but not the other substance, under Heberden's denomination. Natron is an obsolete word for saltpetre or potassium nitrate; this is a salt which would dissolve in rain on top of the mountain. My colleague <name type="person" key="name-035877">Professor A. D. Monro</name> suggests that what Heberden collected was the mineral alunite, a whitish-looking basic alum, which would not so dissolve, and might be expected under the conditions.</p></note></p>
          <p>25. Wind continued to blow much as it had done so we were sure we were well in the trade; now for the first time we saw plenty of flying fish, whose bea[u]ty especialy when seen from the cabbin windows is beyond imagination, their sides shining like burnishd silver; when seen from the Deck they do not appear to such advantage as their backs are then presented to the view, which are dark colourd.</p>
          <p>26. Went as usual and as we expect to go these next two months; flying fish are in great plenty about the ship. About one today we crossd the tropick,<note xml:id="fn3-167" n="3"><p>i.e. the Tropic of Cancer. Cook gives the noon position for September 26 as lat. 23° 43’ N, long. 19° 23’ W.</p></note> the night most intolerably hot, the Thermometer standing all night at 78 in the cabbin tho every window was open.</p>
          <p>27. About one this morn a flying fish was brought into the cabbin, the first that had been taken; it flew aboard, I suppose chasd by some other fish, or maybe merely because he did not see the ship; at breakfast another was brought, which had flown into M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green the Astronomers Cabbin. This whole day we saild at the rate of 7 knotts, sometimes a fathom or two more the wind being rather stronger than it usualy is in the trade.</p>
          <p>28. Wind rather slackend; three birds were today about the ship, a swallow,<note xml:id="fn4-167" n="4"><p>Probably the common swallow on migration.</p></note> to all appearance the same as our European one, and two motacillas, about night fall one of the latter was taken; about 11 a shoal of Porpoises came about the ship, and the fisgig was soon thrown into one of them but would not hold.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n213" n="168"/>
          <p>29. This morn calm; employd in drawing and describing the bird taken yesterday, calld it <hi rend="i">Motacilla avida</hi>;<note xml:id="fn1-168" n="1"><p>A young Yellow Wagtail; Parkinson I, pl. 38a; Solander p. 121. See Pl. 2.</p></note> while the drawing was in hand it became very familiar, so much so that we had a brace made for it in hope to keep it alive; as flies were in amazing abundance onboard the ship we had no fear of plentiful supply of provision.</p>
          <p>About noon a young shark was seen from the Cabbin windows following the ship, who immediately took a bait and was caught on board; he provd to be the <hi rend="i">Squalus Charcharias</hi> of Linn[aeus]<note xml:id="fn2-168" n="2"><p>Probably <hi rend="i">Carcharodon carcharias</hi>, the Great White Shark; this is one of the largest of all sharks and is found throughout temperate and tropical seas. There are two drawings from this voyage labelled <hi rend="i">Squalus carcharias</hi>, both ascribed by Dryander to Parkinson, though only one is signed, I, pls. 51, 54.</p></note> and assisted us in clearing up much confusion which almost all authors had made about that species; with him came on board 4 sucking fish, <hi rend="i">echineis remora</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn3-168" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Remora remora</hi>, Sucking-fish.</p></note> who were preserved in spirit. Notwistanding it was twelve O'Clock before the shark was taken, we made shift to have a part of him stewd for dinner, and very good meat he was, at least in the opinion of D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself, tho some of the Seamen did not seem to be fond of him, probably from some prejudice founded on the species sometimes feeding on human flesh.</p>
          <p>30. This Morn at day break made the Island of Bonavista, one of the <name key="name-402249" type="place">Cape Verde Islands</name>: M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan employd in taking views of the land; M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Parkinson busy in finishing the sketches made of the shark yesterday.</p>
          <p>This Evening the other <hi rend="i">Motacilla avida</hi> was brought to us, it differd scarce at all from the first taken, except that it was something larger; his head however gave us some good, by supplying us with near twenty specimens of ticks, which differd but little from the <hi rend="i">acarus vicinus</hi> Linn; it was however described and calld <hi rend="i">Motacilla</hi>.<note xml:id="fn4-168" n="4"><p>Wagtails are parasitized by several kinds of ticks; from Solander's notes, p. 289, it appears that this one was an <hi rend="i">Ixodes</hi>, but the description is not sufficiently detailed to allow of specific identification. S, substituting a ‘serpentine dash’ for the name of the bird, adds the note, ‘those referred to was what became so familiar y<hi rend="sup">e</hi> 29<hi rend="sup">th</hi> while drawing and describing. page 38’.</p></note></p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d3" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">October</hi> 1768</head>
          <p>1. This Morn Bonetos were in great plenty about the ship, we were calld up early to see one that had been struck, found it to be the <hi rend="i">Scomber Pelamys</hi> Linn.,<note xml:id="fn5-168" n="5"><p>The Bonito, <hi rend="i">Euthynnus pelamis.</hi> See Parkinson II, pl. 92; this is an unfinished and unsigned painting and may not be Parkinson's work.</p></note> had a drawing made of it; I confess however that I was a good deal disapointd, expecting to find the
						<pb xml:id="n214" n="169"/>
						animal much more bea[u]tifull than it provd, tho its colours were extreemly lively, especialy the blue lines on the Back (which equald at least any ultramarine); yet the name, and accounts I had heard from all who had seen them, made me expect an animal of a much greater variety of colour, this consisting of no other than blue lines on the back crossing each other, a gold and purple changeable on the sides, and white with black lines on the bottom of the sides and belly.</p>
          <p>After having examind and drawn the animal we proceeded to disect him, and in the course of the operation were much pleasd by the infinite strenght we observd in every part of him, specialy the stomack, the coats of which were uncommonly strong especialy about the sp[h]incter, or extremity by which the digested meat is discharged; this I suppose is intended to crush and render usefull the scales and bones of fishes which this animal must continualy swalow without seperating them from the flesh.</p>
          <p>From the inside of its scales we took a small animal who seemd to be a louse (if I may so call it) as it certainly stuck to him and preyd upon the Juices which it extra[c]ted by sucktion, probably much to his disquiet; it provd to be <hi rend="i">monoculus piscinus</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn1-169" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Caligulus</hi> sp., a parasitic copepod. See Parkinson III, pl. 17, and Solander, pp. 347–9.</p></note> which Baster has given a figure of in his <hi rend="i">Opera subcessive</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-169" n="2"><p>Job Baster (1711–75), a Dutch physician, who published many works on natural history. The one Banks refers to is the <hi rend="i">Opuscula subseciva</hi>, a series of miscellaneous observations on animals and plants—to give its more extended title, <hi rend="i">observations miscellaneœ, de animalculis et plantis quibusdam marinis, eorumque ovariis et seminibus, continentia</hi> (Haarlem, 2 vols., 1759–65).</p></note> but has by some unlucky accident mistaken the head to be the tail, and the tail the head, and the ovaria for antennae.</p>
          <p>In the inside of the fish were also found two animals which preyd upon him, one in his very flesh tho near the membrane which covers the intestines, <hi rend="i">Fasciola Pelamines</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn3-169" n="3"><p>A larval tetrarhynchid, one of the tapeworms. See Solander, p. 421. Mss: manuscript, i.e. no description had been published. In his botanical and zoological lists Banks uses similarly the abbreviation Mscr.</p></note> the other in the stomach <hi rend="i">sipunculus piscium</hi> Mss.<note xml:id="fn4-169" n="4"><p>A trematode, probably <hi rend="i">Hirundinella clavata</hi> (Menzies). See Solander, p. 419.</p></note></p>
          <p>2. This morn two swallows were about the ship, tho we must now be 60 Leagues at least from any land, at night one of them is taken and proved to be <hi rend="i">Hirundo domestica</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn5-169" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Hirundo rustica</hi> was the name given by Linnæus to the European Swallow.</p></note></p>
          <p>3. This morn the other swallow was found dead upon the deck; now for the first time we have lost the trade, and expected calm and squally weather till we shall cross the line.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n215" n="170"/>
          <p>The trade had now lasted us pretty free from squalls or calms these days it has been in general between <note xml:id="fn1-170" n="1"><p>Cook records a fresh’ or ‘steady’ breeze from 24 September, when he remarks, ‘I take this to be the NE Trade we have now got into’. There was a switch to variable winds with calms on his 3 October, and then to southerlies for some time.</p></note> but ever since we have been in it the air has been uncommonly damp, every thing more than usualy liable to mould, and all Iron work to rust, the air has seldom been Clear, but a haize in it which was even perceiveable to the human frame.</p>
          <p>4. Today quite calm, I went out in a boat and took <hi rend="i">dagysastrumosa</hi>’<note xml:id="fn2-170" n="2"><p>Solitary form of <hi rend="i">Thetys vagina;</hi> cf. 6 September above.</p></note> <hi rend="i">medusa porpita</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-170" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Porpita porpita;</hi> cf. 30 September above.</p></note> the same which we before calld azurea, <hi rend="i">mimus volutatorf</hi> and <hi rend="i">cimex</hi><note xml:id="fn5-170" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Cimex</hi> was a name used by Linnaeus for a number of hemipterous insects, but now marks the genus to which the common European bedbug belongs. Banks was probably referring to the British Pond Skaters which belong to the same order; <hi rend="i">Halobates</hi> and its allies are related apterous forms which occur far out to sea in the tropical and sub-tropical oceans.</p></note> who runns upon the water here in the same manner as <hi rend="i">C. Lacustris</hi> does on our ponds in England. Towards even two small fish were taken under the stern, they were following a shirt which was towing and showd not the least signs of fear, so that they were taken with a landing net without the least difficulty. <hi rend="i">Balistes monoceros</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn6-170" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Monacanthus</hi> sp. Parkinson I, pl. 64; Solander, p. 191.</p></note></p>
          <p>5. Weather pretty good, at night a squall with Lightning and rain, another swallow came to the ship today and was taken with the snippers as soon as he went to roost.</p>
          <p>6. Blew fresh this morn with heavy rain; towards noon five swallows came on board and were taken at roosting time, and provd like all we have taken before to be <hi rend="i">H. domestica</hi> Linn.</p>
          <p>7. This morn calm; went out in the boat and took what is calld by the Seamen a Portugese man of war, <hi rend="i">Holothuria Physalis</hi> Linn;<note xml:id="fn7-170" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Physalia physalis.</hi> There are five plates (37–41) of this siphonophore in Parkinson III; two are signed and finished while the others are in various stages of completion. Solander described them under three specific names, <hi rend="i">Holothuria physalis, H. obtusata</hi> and <hi rend="i">H. angustata</hi> (PP. 393–7).</p></note> also <hi rend="i">Medusa velella L.<note xml:id="fn8-170" n="8"><p><hi rend="i">Velella velella.</hi> There is a series of paintings signed by Parkinson, III, pl. 56, of this siphonophore which was described by Solander who, as was his usual practice, listed the various localities where it was taken, p. 475.</p></note> onidium spinosum</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn9-170" n="9"><p><hi rend="i">Cystisoma spinosum</hi> (Fabr.). There are several pencil and pen and ink studies of this hyperiid amphipod by Parkinson, III, pls, 19, 20, and a long description by Solander, pp. 365–6. It is an interesting animal, generally considered to be a deep-sea form, but since it was captured in excellent condition—this is clear from the drawings—it would appear that it sometimes comes into the upper oceanic layers.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Diodon Erinaceus</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn10-170" n="10"><p><hi rend="i">Diodon</hi> sp. Parkinson made two paintings of this curious little fish, I, pl. 68, which was also described by Solander, p. 193.</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n216" n="171"/>
						<hi rend="i">dagysa vitrea</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn1-171" n="1"><p>A nectophore of <hi rend="i">Diphyes dispar</hi> Chamisso and Eysenhardt. Very little was known in the eighteenth century about the complex structure of the Siphonophora, a group to which the Portuguese Man-of-war also belongs, and it is not surprising that Solander confused this nectophore with the much more highly organized salps, to which it has some slight superficial resemblance. Parkinson III, pls. 31 (lower figure) and 32; Solander p. 501.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Helix Janthina</hi> Linn,<note xml:id="fn2-171" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Janthina janthina.</hi> There is a painting of these marine snails by Buchan (see Parkinson, III, pl. 72). The colouring of <hi rend="i">Janthina</hi> shells is very variable. See also Solander p. 417.</p></note>—<hi rend="i">violacea</hi> Mss<note xml:id="fn3-171" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Helix violacea; Janthina globosa</hi> Swainson. See Buchan's painting in Parkinson III, pl. 71.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">procellaria Oceanica</hi> Mss.<note xml:id="fn4-171" n="4"><p>Wilson's Petrel, <hi rend="i">Oceanites oceanicus</hi> (Kuhl). Solander gave an MS description of this bird, p. 55, but Parkinson did not draw a specimen until 22 December; on that occasion Banks did not record the specimen.</p></note> The Holothuria proved to be one of the most bea[u]tifull sights I had ever seen, it consisted of a small bladder in shape much like the air bladder of fishes, from the bottom of which descended a number of strings of bright blue and red, some three or four feet in lengh which if touchd stung the person who touchd them in the same manner as nettles, only much stronger: on the top of this Bladder was a membrane which he turnd either one way or the other as the wind blew to receive it, this was veind with pink in an uncommonly beautifull manner, in short the whole together was one of the most beautifull sights I have seen among the mollusca, tho many of them are beautifull.</p>
          <p>The floating shells <hi rend="i">H. Janthina</hi> and <hi rend="i">violacea</hi> from their particularity deserve also to be mentiond, they are found floating on the top of the water by means of a small cluster of Bubbles filld with air, which are composd of a tenacious slimey substance, not easily parting with its contents; these keep him suspended on the surface of the water and serve as a hiding for his Eggs, and it is probable that he never goes down to the bottom, or willingly comes near any shore, as his shell is of so brittle a construction that few fresh water snails are so thin.</p>
          <p>Every shell contains within it about a teaspoonfull of Liquid, which it easily discharges on being touched, this is of a most beautifull red purple colour and easily dies linnen clothes; it may be well worth inquiry whether or not this is the <hi rend="i">purpura</hi> of the ancients as the shell is certainly found in the Mediterranean. We have not yet taken a sufficient quantity of the shells to try the experiment, probably we shall do soon.<note xml:id="fn5-171" n="5"><p>The usual source of the famous Tyrian purple was <hi rend="i">Murex trunculus</hi>, an abundant littoral species in the Mediterranean. It is unlikely that <hi rend="i">Janthina</hi> was used for this purpose, since its appearance in that sea is only sporadic.</p></note></p>
          <p><hi rend="i">Procellaria oceanica</hi> differs very little from <hi rend="i">P. pelagica</hi> Linn,<note xml:id="fn6-171" n="6"><p>See 31 August above.</p></note> but from his place of abode so far south and some small difference in plumage it is more than likely that he is different in species.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n217" n="172"/>
          <p>8. A fine Breze today; employd in figuring &amp;c. what was taken yesterday.</p>
          <p>9. This morn a shark calld us out of our bedds, and was soon hookd, but as soon broke his hold and went off: at noon went out in the boat but found nothing on the surface of the water; on returning home however found on the stern of the ship two new species of <hi rend="i">Lepas vittata</hi> and <hi rend="i">midas</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-172" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Lepas vittata:</hi> the Striped Stalked Barnacle, <hi rend="i">Conchoderma virgatum</hi> Spengler. See the drawing by Buchan, Parkinson III, pl. 68, and notes by Solander, p. 385. <hi rend="i">Lepas midas:</hi> the Eared Stalked Barnacle, <hi rend="i">Conchoderma auritum.</hi> Parkinson signed his painting of this animal, III, pl. 67; see also Solander, p. 387.</p></note> they were both sticking to the bottom in company with the <hi rend="i">anatifera</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-172" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Lepas anatifera</hi>, the Goose Barnacle, so-called on account of the mediaeval belief that Barnacle Geese did not procreate in the usual way but sprang from these organisms. For this reason these birds were regarded as a class apart from other animals, and could be eaten on fast days.</p></note> of which there was great abundance. After dinner calld upon deck by another shark, who had been lately wounded by a harpoon, but he was two cunning after his misfortune to bite at our baits, which we much Lamented as he had sucking fish upon him that were quite white, probably a species not yet describd.</p>
          <p>10. Went out in the boat today, took plenty of <hi rend="i">Helix Janthina</hi> and some few of <hi rend="i">violacea</hi>, shot the black toed gull of <hi rend="i">Penn. Zool.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-172" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">The British Zoology</hi> (1766) of Thomas Pennant (1726–98). Pennant, a landed gentle man of Flintshire, a naturalist and antiquary, and a correspondent of both Linnaeus and Banks, was best known at this time for this book, though later on for the journals of his travels in England, Scotland and Wales. He was a most voluminous author. Johnson thought him a Whig and a sad dog, adding (of his <hi rend="i">Tour in Scotland</hi>, 1771) ‘But he's the best traveller I ever read’. White's <hi rend="i">Selborne</hi> was written in the form of letters to Pennant and to <name type="person" key="name-150237">Daines Barrington</name>, another friend of Banks (cf. Introduction, above, <hi rend="i">passim).</hi></p></note> It had not yet been describd according to Linnæus's system, so calld it <hi rend="i">Larus crepidatus;</hi> its food here seems to be cheifly Helixes which appeard probable at least, on account of its dung being of a lively red colour, much like that which was procurd from the shells.<note xml:id="fn4-172" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Stercorarius parasiticus</hi>, the Arctic Skua. This seems to have been the immature bird described by Solander, p. 39, as although his account is not dated he refers to its feeding on <hi rend="i">Janthina janthina.</hi></p></note></p>
          <p>I was drove home from this excursion by a very heavy squall of rain, which intirely wetted me through long before it was possible to return to the ship, however I receivd no other harm from the ducking than the present inconvenience of being so thoroughly wet. The remainder of today was very squally, with much rain; indeed it has been so ever since we lost the trade, and the people who have been here before say that it is generaly so in these latitudes; I can liken it to nothing so much as April in England, when it is very showery, the weather is never certain for two hours, or indeed
						<pb xml:id="n218" n="173"/>
						half the time, tho calms spend<note xml:id="fn1-173" n="1"><p>‘Spend’ in the obsolete eighteenth century sense of ‘waste’.</p></note> much the greatest part of our time in idleness.</p>
          <p>11. Today much like yesterday, very squally; saw a dolphin, and admired the infinite beauty of his colour as he swam in the water, but in vain, he would not give us even a chance of taking him.</p>
          <p>12. A shark, <hi rend="i">squalus carcharias</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn2-173" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Squalus carcharias</hi>, probably <hi rend="i">Carcharodon carcharias;</hi> cf. 29 September above.</p></note> taken this morn, and with him two pilot fish; at noon calm, I went out in the boat and took several Blubbers. The pilot fish <hi rend="i">Gasterosteus ductor</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn3-173" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Naucrates ductor</hi>, the Pilot-fish. See Parkinson II, pl. 86. ‘Naucrates’ is derived from a Greek word meaning ‘ruler of the ships’. There is an interesting discussion of the relationship between the Pilot-fish and their sharks in J. R. Norman and F. C. Fraser's <hi rend="i">Giant Fishes, Whales and Dolphins</hi> (1948).</p></note> is certainly as bea[u]tyfull a fish as can be imagind: it is of a light blue with cross streaks of darker colour; it is wonderful to see them about a Shark, swimming round him without expressing the least signs of fear; what their motive for doing so is I cannot guess as I cannot find that they get any provision by it, or any other emolument, except possibly the company of the shark keeps them free from the attacks of Dolphins or other large fish of prey, who would otherwise devour them.</p>
          <p>The blubbers<note xml:id="fn4-173" n="4"><p>Blubbers was a name commonly applied by sailors to jellyfish and some other transparent pelagic animals.</p></note> taken today were <hi rend="i">Beroe Labiata</hi><note xml:id="fn5-173" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Beroe labiata:</hi> there are eight small paintings of this unidentified ctenophore by Parkinson III, pl. 58, lower series, and a description by Solander, p. 431, who however used the MS name of <hi rend="i">bilabiata</hi> for it.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Marsupialis</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn6-173" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Beroe marsupialis:</hi> this too is an unidentified ctenophore; Solander thought that it was perhaps only a variety of his <hi rend="i">B. bilabiata</hi> (p. 435); Parkinson's painting, III, pl. 58, upper figure, suggests that it was a paler specimen. Both he and Solander used the MS name of <hi rend="i">marsupium</hi>, not <hi rend="i">marsupialis</hi>, for it.</p></note> the first of which made a pretty appearance in the water, by reason of its swimmers, which line its sides like fringes, and are of a changeable fire colour; <hi rend="i">Callirhoe bivia</hi> Mss,<note xml:id="fn7-173" n="7"><p>A ctenophore belonging to the group Lobatae, possibly a species of <hi rend="i">Deiopeia.</hi> See Parkinson's painting, III, pl. 42, and Solander, p. 401.</p></note> the most lifeless lump of Jelly I have seen, it scarcely seems to be possessd of life but for one or two motions we saw it make.</p>
          <p>13. Calm this Morn; a shark was taken, but not one pilot fish attended him, which is rather uncommon as they seldom are without a shoal of from ten to twenty. At noon I went in the boat, and took the Sallee man <hi rend="i">Phyllodoce velella</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn8-173" n="8"><p><hi rend="i">Velella velella;</hi> cf. 7 October above. ‘Sallee-man originally a Moorish pirate vessel from the port of Sallee.</p></note> who is a Sailor tho inferior in size to the Portugese man of war, yet not without its beauty, cheifly from the charming blue of its bottom; its sail is transparent
						<pb xml:id="n219" n="174"/>
						but not moveable, so it trusts itself to the mercy of the winds without being able to turn to windward as the Portugese man of war maybe can? We saw several of the latter today, and observd many small fish under their tentacula who seemd to shelter there as if with its stings it could defend them from large enemies.<note xml:id="fn1-174" n="1"><p>If the fish sheltering under the tentacula of the Portuguese Man-of-war were <hi rend="i">Nomeus gronovii</hi> (Gm.), as seems most probable, this was the first time that their commensalism with the siphonophore was noted; an account of this now well-known relationship was first published by G. C. Wallich in 1863. Young Pilot-fishes also behave like this.</p></note></p>
          <p>14. Calm today but so squally and rainy that I dar'd not venture out with the boat.</p>
          <p>15. Ventur'd out today, but found the surface of the water so ruffled that nothing at all floated upon it, I had the good fortune however to see a bird of the shearwater kind which I shot, and it provd to be not describd; it was about as large as the common but differd from it in being whiter, especialy about the face: calld it <hi rend="i">Procellaria crepidata</hi> as its feet were like the gulls shot last week, black without but white near the leggs.<note xml:id="fn2-174" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Pterodroma mollis feae</hi> (Salvadori), the Soft-plumaged Petrel. In his <hi rend="i">Hand List</hi> of 1871, (pt. III, p, 107), Gray considered that Solander's <hi rend="i">Procellaria crepidata</hi> (p. 87, undated) was probably equivalent to Gould's <hi rend="i">mollis.</hi> Solander also calls it Mother Carey's Pullet and refers to a figure by Parkinson, long mislaid—since for some inexplicable reason it was not bound with the other plates from Cook's voyages but is in the Print Room, <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name> (199* Bi, pl. 52).</p></note></p>
          <p>A large shoal of fish were all this day under the shipp's stern, playing about, but refusing to take bait; we however contrivd to take one of them with a fish gigg, which provd not describd; it was in make and appearance like a Carp, weighing near two pounds, its sides were ornamented with narrow yellow lines and its finns almost intirely coverd with scales: calld it <hi rend="i">Chætodon cyprinaceus</hi>.<note xml:id="fn3-174" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Kyphosus sectalrix.</hi> Parkinson II, pl. 32.</p></note></p>
          <p>16. A fine breeze of wind started up last night which held us all day, so I found it impossible to go out in the boat; tonight however to make these 24 hours not intirely unprofitable I had the opportunity of seeing a Phenomenon I had never before met with, a lunar rainbow which appeard about ten O'Clock very faint and almost or quite without colour, so that it could be tracd by little More than an appearance which lookd like shade on a cloud.</p>
          <p>17. This morn went out in the boat but caught no one thing, I had never been before so unfortunate. In the Evening a breeze of wind sprung up from SE by S which makes us hope we had got the S.E. trade.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n220" n="175"/>
          <p>18. Wind continued to blow fresh so we had little doubt of the reality of yesterdays hopes. This evening trying as I have often (foolishly no doubt) done to exercise myself by playing tricks with two ropes in the Cabbin I got a fall which hurt me a good deal and alarmd me more, as the blow was on my head, and two hours after it I was taken with sickness at my stomack which made me fear some ill consequence.<note xml:id="fn1-175" n="1"><p>One would like to know what exercises Banks was able to improvise with two ropes in a cabin 6’ × 6’ × 7’.</p></note></p>
          <p>19. Today thank God I was much better and easd of all apprehensions, the wind continuing fair and I had given over all thoughts of boat expeditions for some time at least.</p>
          <p>20. Quite well today, employd in describing<note xml:id="fn2-175" n="2"><p>i.e. writing descriptions of his zoological specimens.</p></note> and attending the Draughtsmen.</p>
          <p>21. Trade continues. Today the cat killd our bird <hi rend="i">M. Avida</hi> who had lived with us ever since the 29<hi rend="sup">th</hi> of Sept<hi rend="sup">r</hi> intirely on the flies which he caught for himself; he was hearty and in high health so that probably he might have livd a great while longer had fate been more kind.</p>
          <p>22. Trade had got more to the Southward that it usualy had been, which was unlucky for me as I proposd to the Captain to touch for part of a day at least at the Island of Ferdinand Norronha, which he had no objection to if we could fetch it: that however seemd very uncertain. This Evening we saw 6 or 7 large fish of the whale kind which the Seamen calld Grampuses tho I think they were very different from the fish commonly so calld; they were however Certainly of the whale kind and blew throug[h] two? pipes on the top of their heads. They had heads smaller and rounder than those fish in general have and very low back finns and very small tails; thus much was all that I could see as they never came within two cables lengh of the ship.<note xml:id="fn3-175" n="3"><p>These were possibly Pilot Whales <hi rend="i">(Globicephala</hi> sp.) which have rounded heads and low dorsal fins in comparison with those of the Killer.</p></note></p>
          <p>23. Trade today was still more to the Southward, almost due South, so that we tackd and stood to the eastward lest we should fall in with the coast of Brazil to the Northward of Cape Frio.</p>
          <p>24. Wind today as fair as we could wish, ship layd up so well<note xml:id="fn4-175" n="4"><p>‘Layd up so well’: she sailed into the prevailing south-easterly winds so satisfactorily….</p></note> that it renewd our hopes of touching at the Island.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n221" n="176"/>
          <p>About noon today we experiencd what the Seamen call a white squall, that is a gust of wind which came upon us quite unawares, unattended with a cloud as squalls in general are and therefore took us quite unprepard; it was however very slight so no ill consequence ensued except M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Parkinson and his potts<note xml:id="fn1-176" n="1"><p>i.e. his paint pots.</p></note> going to leward, which diverted us more than it hurt him.</p>
          <p>25. This morn about 8 O'Clock crossed the Équinoctial line in about 33 degrees West Longitude from Greenwich, at the rate of four knotts which our seamen said was an uncommonly good breeze, the Thermometer standing at 29. (The Thermometers used in this voyage are two of M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Birds making<note xml:id="fn2-176" n="2"><p><name key="name-150240" type="person">John Bird</name> (1709–76), mathematical instrument maker, had a very great reputation for accurate division, founded particularly on his astronomical quadrants. In early life a cloth-weaver at Durham, he became interested in engraving dial-plates for clocks, and went on to become himself one of the great instruments of eighteenth century science. He was closely associated with <name type="person" key="name-401912">John Bradley</name>, the astronomer royal, but also supplied many continental observatores with accurate instruments. He wrote on his methods of divison. It is not know, apart from this reference, that he actually ‘made’ thermometers: perhaps he graduated their glasses. He certainly sold them. Cook received ‘2 Thermometers [bespoke] of Mr Bird’ for use on the voyage.—See Cook I, pp. cxliii, 87.</p></note> after Farenheights scale, which seldom differ above a degree from each other and that not till they are as high as 80, in which case the medium between the two instruments is set down.) This Evening the ceremony of ducking the ships company was performd as always customary on crossing the line, when those who have crossd it before Claim a right of ducking all that have not, the whole of the ceremony I shall describe.</p>
          <p>About dinner time a list was brought into the cabbin containing the names of every body and thing aboard the ship, in which the dogs and catts were not forgot; to this was affixd a petition, sign'd ‘the ships company,’ desiring leave to examine every body in that List that it might be know[n] whether or not they had crossd the line before. This was immediately granted; every body was then calld upon the quarter deck and examind by one of the lieutenants who had crossd,<note xml:id="fn3-176" n="3"><p>Probably Gore, who had been round the world twice already, with Byron and with Wallis on the <hi rend="i">Dolphin.</hi></p></note> he markd every name either to be duckd or let off according as their qualifications directed. Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> Cooke and Doctor Solander were on the Black list, as were my self my servants and doggs, which I was oblig'd to compound for by giving the Duckers a certain quantity of Brandy for which they willingly excusd us the ceremony.</p>
          <p>Many of the Men however chose to be duckd rather than give up 4 days allowance of wine which was the price fixd upon, and
						<pb xml:id="n222" n="177"/>
						as for the boys they are always duckd of course; so that about 21 underwent the ceremony which was performd thus:</p>
          <p>A block was made fast to the end of the Main Yard and a long line reved through it, to which three Cross peices of wood were fastned, one of which was put between the leggs of the man who was to be duckd and to this he was tyed very fast, another was for him to hold in his hands and the third was over his head least the rope should be hoisted too near the block and by that means the man be hurt. When he was fas[t]ned upon this machine the Boatswain gave the command by his whistle and the man was hoisted up as high as the cross peice over his head would allow, when another signal was made and immediately the rope was let go and his own weight carried him down, he was then immediately hoisted up again and three times served in this manner which was every mans allowance. Thus ended the diversion of the day, for the ducking lasted till almost night, and sufficiently diverting it certainly was to see the different faces that were made on this occasion, some grinning and exulting in their hardiness whilst others were almost suffocated and came up ready enough to have compounded after the first or second duck, had such proceeding been allowable.<note xml:id="fn1-177" n="1"><p>This is one of the best accounts we have of the (or of one) method by which this ‘Ancient Custom of the Sea’ was carried out—‘the Ceremony … practised by all Nations’, to quote Cook's words. In essentials it was a sort of ‘baptism, combining propitiation of the sea-god with present benefit (in the form of strong drink) shared out among the old hands. The ceremony varied according to the nationality of the actors: the English seem to have copied the Dutch, to judge from an account given in the first chapter of Esquemeling's <hi rend="i">Buccaneers of America</hi> (Amsterdam 1678, English translation 1684). Esquemeling writes, ‘He, therefore, that is to be baptized is fastened, and hoisted up three times at the mainyard's end, as if he were a criminal. If he be hoisted the fourth time, in the name of the Prince of Orange or of the captain of the vessel, his honour is more than ordinary. Thus they are dipped, every one, several times into the main ocean. But he that is the first dipped has the honour of being saluted with a gun. Such as are not willing to fall are bound to pay twelve pence for their ransom; if he be an officer in the ship, two shillings; and, if a passenger, according to his pleasure…. All the profit which accrues by this ceremony is kept by the master's mate, who, after reaching their port, doth usually lay it out in wine, which is drunk amongst the ancient seamen. Some will say this ceremony was instituted by the Emperor Charles the Fifth; howsoever, it is not found amongst his Laws’. Mr G. P. B. Naish writes that the same ceremony was frequently performed at the entrance to the Baltic, the Straits of Gibraltar, and crossing the Tropics; and that Neptune started coming on board English ships just before 1790.</p></note></p>
          <p>It is now time that I should say something of the climate and degree of heat since crossing the tropick, as we have been for some time within the bounds which were supposd by the ancients to be uninhabitable on account of their heat.</p>
          <p>Almost immediately on crossing the tropick the air became sensibly much damper than usual, tho not materialy hotter, the
						<pb xml:id="n223" n="178"/>
						thermometer then in general stood from 80 to 82. The nearer we approachd to the calms still the damper every thing grew, this was perceivable even to the human body and very much so, but more remarkably upon all kinds of furniture: every thing made of Iron rusted so fast that the knives in peoples pockets became almost useless and the razors in cases not free. All kinds of Leather became mouldy, Portfolios and truncks coverd with black leather were almost white, soon after this mould adheerd to almost every thing, all the books in my Library became mouldy<note xml:id="fn1-178" n="1"><p>There is a marginal note here, ‘Piso p. 5’, and the reader will find further references to Piso below. Willem Piso, a Dutch naturalist and doctor of the early seventeenth century, went as physician to Prince Maurice of Nassau on a voyage to Brazil in 1636, when part of the country was occupied by the Dutch. He took with him a young German physician and scholar, <name type="person" key="name-401843">George Marggraf</name> (Marggrav, Marcgrav), and their discoveries were later published in a folio <hi rend="i">Historia naturalis Brasiliae</hi> (1648). Piso's part of this was the <hi rend="i">De Medcina Brasliensi libri quatuor</hi>, the first of which treats of the climate and the nature of the country in general, while the others deal with endemic diseases, poisons, and the virtues of plants. Piso was a rather diffuse writer, given to taking over popular stories: he himself admitted that he had done his work somewhat precipitately, but revised it with care for a subsequent volume <hi rend="i">De Indiae utriusque re naturali et medica</hi> (Amsterdam 1658). In spite of its defects the joint work of Piso and Marcgrav remained for a long time the most complete thing available on the country of their exploration. Their other gift to Europe was the drug ipecacuanha.</p></note> so that they were obligd to be wiped to preserve them. About this time we came into the calms which we met with earlier than usual; the thermometer was then at 83 and we sufferd from the heat and damp together. Bathing however kept me in perfect health, tho many of the ship[s] company were ill of bilious complaints which however were but of short duration.</p>
          <p>This continued till we got the S.E. trade, when or a little before the glass fell to 88 and soon to 78 and 79, but the dampness continued yet; to that I cheifly attribute the ill success of the Electrical experiments of which I have wrote an account on separate papers that the different experiments may appear at one view.<note xml:id="fn2-178" n="2"><p>See Appendix I.</p></note></p>
          <p>The air during the whole time sin[c]e we crossed the tropick and indeed sometime before has been nearly of the same temperature throughout the 24 hours, the Thermometer seldom rising above a degree during the time the sun is above the horizon. The windows of the cabbin have been open without once being shut ever since we left Madeira.</p>
          <p>26. Last night and today the weather has been squally, wind rather fresh but keeping very much to the Southward; great plenty of flying fish have been about the ship few or none of which have been seen since we left the N.E. trade.</p>
          <p>27. Fine weather but Wind rather too much to the Southward.
						<pb xml:id="n224" n="179"/>
						We are today nearly in the latitude of the Island of <name key="name-200843" type="place">Fernand de Norhona</name>, so that I am not without hopes of making it if rightly laid down; night however put an end to our hopes for the present at least, and left us in no very agreable situation as shoals and foul ground is laid down all round the Islands.<note xml:id="fn1-179" n="1"><p>The ship was now approaching the coast of Brazil. Cook writes (October 28), ‘This day at Noon being nearly in the Lat<hi rend="sup">d</hi> of the Island Ferdinand Noronha to the westward of it by some charts and to the Eastward by others, was in expectation of seeing it or some of those shoals that are laid down in most charts between in and the main, but we saw neither one nor a nother. We certainly pass'd to the Eastward of the Island, and as to the shoals I do not think they exhist grounding this my opinion on the Journal of some East India Ships I have seen, who were detained some days by contrary winds between this Island and the main and being 5 or Six Ships in compney, doubtless must have seen some of them did they lay as marked in the charts’. This indicates both the current state of hydrographical knowledge and Cook's wide-ranging mind where hydrography was concerned. A dangerous reef, the As Rocas, does in fact lie 80 miles west of <name type="place" key="name-200843">Fernando Noronha</name>. The <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> passed 60 miles east of the island.</p></note></p>
          <p>28. Fine breeze today, our hopes of seeing the Island were again renewd but without success, so at night we judge ourselves to be past it and that the longitude is wrong laid down.</p>
          <p>29. Wind East very pleasant, we now gave up all thoughts of the Island. This Evening the sea appeard uncommonly bea[u]tifull, flashes of light coming from it perfectly resembling small flashes of lightning, and these so frequent that sometimes 8 or ten were visible at the same moment; the seamen were divided in their acco[u]nts some assuring us that it proceeded from fish who made the light by agitating the salt water, as they calld it, in their darting at their prey, while others said that they had often seen them and knew them to be nothing but blubbers <hi rend="i">(Medusas).</hi> This made us very Eager to procure some of them, which at last we did one by the help of the landing net. They prov'd to be a species of Medusa which when brought on board appeard like metal violently heated, emitting a white light; on the surface of this animal a small <hi rend="i">Lepas</hi> was fixd exactly the colour of it, which was almost transparent not unlike thin starch in which a small quantity of blue is disolv'd. In taking these animals three or 4 species of Crabbs were taken also but very small, one of which gave light full as much as a glow-worm in England tho the Creature was not so large by £10/9ths<note xml:id="fn2-179" n="2"><p>This, odd as it may seem, is what Banks wrote, over something else, smudged, which appears to have been 2/10ths; and I think that ‘nine-tenths was probably what he meant, though his symbol is unknown to mathematicians.</p></note> indeed the sea this night seemd to abound with light in an uncommon manner, as if every inhabitant of it furnishd its share, which might have been the case tho none kept that property after being brought out of the water except these two.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n225" n="180"/>
          <p>30. This Morn employd in Examining the things caught lastnight, which being taken by the light of our lamps (for the wind which blows in at the windows always open will not suffer us to burn candles) we could hardly then distinguish into genera, much less into species, had the good fortune to find that they were allquite new. Calld them <hi rend="i">Medusa pellucens</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-180" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Phacellophora</hi> sp. There is a signed sepia painting of this animal by Parkinson, III, pl. 53; see also Solander p. 467.</p></note> Lepas pellucens,<note xml:id="fn2-180" n="2"><p>This barnacle has not been identified; Parkinson's figures are small, III, pl. 68, upper figure. Solander, p. 383, compared its structure with that of <hi rend="i">Conchoderma virgatum</hi> (see 9 October above).</p></note>,<note xml:id="fn3-180" n="3"><p>There is a blank here in the MS never filled in by Banks.</p></note> Clio, <note xml:id="fn4-180" n="4"><p>This may have been one of the pteropods of the genus <hi rend="i">Clio</hi> described by Linnaeus-There appears to be no drawing or description of it.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Cancer fulgens and Cancer amplectens</hi>,<note xml:id="fn5-180" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Cancer fulgens</hi> and <hi rend="i">C. ampledens;</hi> the first of these may have been a young euphausiid, the second is a larval form with some likeness to that of the hermit crabs. There is not sufficient detail for identification in Parkinson's drawings, III, pls. 13, 10, or in Solander's descriptions, pp. 309–13.</p></note> but we had the misfortune to loose two more species of Crabbs overboard by the tumbling of a glass overboard in which they were containd.</p>
          <p>In the Evening the Sea was lighted in the same manner as it was last night only not near so strongly; we renewd however our endeavours to take some of the light carriers, not without success as two new species of Crabbs were taken one of which was very singular.</p>
          <p>31. Nothing to be done today, found however that the crabbs taken yesterday were both new, calld them <hi rend="i">vitreus</hi><note xml:id="fn6-180" n="6"><p>A stomatopod larva, Alima stage, Parkinson III, pls. 15, 16; Solander, pp. 337–9.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Crassicornis.</hi><note xml:id="fn7-180" n="7"><p>An amphipod, <hi rend="i">Scina</hi> sp. Parkinson III, pl. 14, and Solander, pp. 317–20.</p></note></p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d4" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">November</hi> 1768</head>
          <p>1. A shoal of small fish were today under our stern who attended the ship for some time; she had however too much way through the water for our instruments so we could not take any of them.</p>
          <p>2. This day was quite void of Events, the wind however was very fair and we now approachd the place where we were next to refresh ourselves apace.</p>
          <p>3. This morn the sun was immediately over our heads notwith-s[t]anding which the Thermometer was no higher than 77. Since we left the calms under the line the weather has grown cooler by gradual degrees, now we reckon it quite moderate after having felt the heat of 83 so lately.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n226" n="181"/>
          <p>This Even I for the first time (for other people had seen them much before) observd two Light spots in the heavens apearing much like the milky way, one the largest and brightest Bore S. by E. the other about South.<note xml:id="fn1-181" n="1"><p>These must have been the Magellanic Clouds, two cloud-like condensations of stars in the southern constellation of Mensa, with a remarkable resemblance to the stars of the Milky Way, though entirely detached from it. They would be visible from the ship's latitude (15*–16* S) in clear weather.</p></note></p>
          <p>4. Still as we got more to the westward the wind became more favourable, today it was almost aft and has been all along creeping to the northward.</p>
          <p>5. The thermometer kept still gradualy falling as the wind got more to the northward, which appears odd as the North wind should now be the warm wind; we were not yet however enough to the Southward to find much alteration. Wind this morn was North-east, at noon North by west, between this place and mid channel it has changd from South by East. The Trade being to the Northward upon this coast has been observd long ago, tho I question whether our navigators are sufficiently apprisd of it. <hi rend="i">Piso</hi> in his Natural history of the Brasils<note xml:id="fn2-181" n="2"><p>See p. 178, n. 1 above.</p></note> says that the winds along shore are constantly to the Northward from October to March and to the southward from March to October. Dampier also who certainly had as much experience as most men says the same thing,<note xml:id="fn3-181" n="3"><p>In his <hi rend="i">Discourse of Winds</hi> (1700), Chapter III, ‘Of the Coasting Trade-Winds that shift’.—<hi rend="i">Dampier's Voyages</hi>, ed. Masefield (London 1906), II, pp. 243 ff.</p></note> advising ships outward bound to keep to the westward where they are almost certain to find the Trade more Eastward than in mid channel, where it sometimes is due South or within ½ a point of it as we ourselves experienced.</p>
          <p>6. Today light winds and very pleasant weather, the Thermometer was never above 76. Towards evening the colour of the water was observd to change upon which we sounded and found ground at 32 fathom; the lead was cast three times between 6 and 10 without finding a foot difference in the depth or quality of the bottom, which was incrusted with coral; we supposd this to be the tail of a great shoal laid down in all our charts by the name of Albrolhos, on which L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Anson struck soundings in his outward bound passage.<note xml:id="fn4-181" n="4"><p>Cook spells the name of the shoal ‘Abrollos’: more properly ‘Abrolhos’, from the Portuguese <hi rend="i">abre os olhos</hi>, literally ‘open your eyes’, hence ‘look out, take care’. The Dutch conferred the same name on a reef on the western coast of Australia, ‘Houtman's Abrolhos’. The reference to Anson is to his famous voyage round the world, 1741–4. The account of the voyage by his chaplain, Richard Walter (1748) was evidently on board the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi>, as Cook also refers to it. Anson struck soundings in lat. 20* S, long. 36* 30’ W; Cook in lat. 19* 46’ S, long. 36* 54’ W. This is in a region of coral banks, the nearest of which, in modern reckonings, are the Montague Bank and the Sylvia Bank.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n227" n="182"/>
          <p>7. This morn at four no ground with 100 Fathoms of Line. About noon long ranges of a yellowish colour appeard upon the sea, many of them very large, one (the largest) might be a mile in lengh and 3 or 400 yards wide. The seamen in general affirmd roundly that they were the spawn of fishes and that they had often seen the same appearance before; upon taking up some of the water so coloured we found it to be causd by innumerable small atoms, each pointed at the end and of a yellowish colour, none of them above a quarter of a line in lengh; in the microscope they appeard to be fasciculi of small fibres interwove one within the other, not unlike the nidi of some Phryganeas which we call caddices. What they were or for what purposes designd we could not even guess, nor so much as distinguish whether their substance was animal or vegetable.<note xml:id="fn1-182" n="1"><p>Dr W. R. Taylor writes, ‘the reference here is almost certainly to <hi rend="i">Trichodesmium thiebautii</hi> Gomont’. Banks refers to these ‘small particles’ again off Rio de Janeiro, 9–10 December 1768, pp. 205–6 below.</p></note></p>
          <p>8. At day break today we made the Land which Provd to be the Continent of S. America in Lat. 21.16; about ten we saw a fishing boat who told us that the countrey we saw belongd to the Captain ship of Espirito Santo.</p>
          <p>Doctor Solander and myself went on board this boat in which were 11 men (9 of whom were blacks) who all fishd with lines. We bought of them the cheif part of their cargo consisting of Dolphins,<note xml:id="fn2-182" n="2"><p>In the eighteenth century and earlier the term dolphin usually denoted a small cetacean, but it was also applied, as here (p. 183 below), to the fish <hi rend="i">Coryphaena hippuris</hi>, identified by Solander, p. 209.</p></note> two kinds of large Pelagick Scombers,<note xml:id="fn3-182" n="3"><p>See below, p. 183, n. 6.</p></note> Sea Bream<note xml:id="fn4-182" n="4"><p>Probably Banks's <hi rend="i">Sparus pagrus</hi>, see below, p. 183, n. 8.</p></note> and the fish calld in the West Indies Welshman,<note xml:id="fn5-182" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Holacentrus ascensionis</hi> (Osbeck); cf. p. 183, n. 9.</p></note> for which they made us pay 19 shillings and Sixpence. We had taken Spanish silver with us which we imagind was the currency of the Continent, we were therefore not a little surprizd that they askd us for English shillings and preferrd two which we by accident had to the Pistereens, tho they after some words took them also. The Business of these people seemd to be going a good distance from land and catching large fish, which they salted in bulk in a place in the middle of their boat made for that purpose; in this place was about 2 Quintals of fish laid in salt which they offerd to sale for 16 shillings, and would doubtless have taken half the money had we been inclind to buy them, but fresh provisions was all we wanted and the fresh fish they had which we bought servd the whole ships company.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n228" n="183"/>
          <p>Their provision for the Sea consisted of a cask of water and a bag of the flour of Cassada<note xml:id="fn1-183" n="1"><p>Cassada or Cassava, or Manioc <hi rend="i">(Manihot utilissima)</hi>; from its fleshy tuberous roots was obtained the flour, a sort of nutritious starch. There is another species, <hi rend="i">M. aipi</hi>, the sweet cassava.</p></note> which they call Farinha de Pao or wooden flour, a very proper name for it which indeed tastes more like powderd chipps than any thing else.</p>
          <p>Their method of drinking out of their cask of water was truely primitive and pleasd me much. The cask was large, as broad as the boat and exactly fitted a place in the Ballast made for it, they consequently could not get at the bottom of it to put in a tap by which the water might be drawn out. To remedy this dificulty they made use of a cane about three feet long hollow and open at each end; this the man who wanted to drink desired his neighbour to fill for him, which he did by putting it into the cask, and laying the palm of his hand over the uppermost hole hinderd the water from running out of the other, to which the drinker applyd his mouth and the other taking off his hand lett the liquor run into the drinkers mouth till he was satisfied.</p>
          <p>Soon after we came on board a Sphynx<note xml:id="fn2-183" n="2"><p>A Hawkmoth, one of the Sphingidae.</p></note> was taken which provd to be quite a new one, and a small bird also who was the <hi rend="i">Tanagra Jacarini</hi> of Linn; it seemd however from Linnés description as well as Edwards's<note xml:id="fn3-183" n="3"><p><name type="person" key="name-401842">George Edwards</name> (1694–1773), naturalist. Of humble origin, he got a good education, and after travelling some time in Holland, Norway, and France he attained some note for his coloured drawings of animals, and in 1733 was appointed on <name type="person" key="name-400659">Sir Hans Sloane</name>'s recommendation librarian to the Royal College of Physicians; F,R.S. 1757. He was the author of <hi rend="i">A Natural History of Birds</hi> (4 vols., 1743–51), which brought him the gold medal of the <name key="name-110345" type="organisation">Royal Society</name> in 1750. It was lavishly illustrated with engravings, and is singular, at a time when fashionable patrons were much sought after, in being dedicated to God.</p></note> and Brissons<note xml:id="fn4-183" n="4"><p>Mathurin Jacques Brisson (1723–1806), French naturalist and physicist, and in his day an extremely eminent scholar. In his youth he was attached to Réaumur, ‘the Pliny of the eighteenth century’. whose collection was the basis of his great <hi rend="i">Ornithologie, ou Méthods contenant la division des oiseaux en ordres, sections, genres, espèces, et leur variétés</hi> (6 vols., Paris 1760). It is to this book (III, p. 28), the major work on birds before Buffon's <hi rend="i">Histoire naturelle des oiseaux</hi>, that Banks refers. Brisson wrote other works on zoology, and on physics and chemistry.</p></note> that neither of them had seen the Bird which was in reality a <hi rend="i">Loxia nitens.</hi><note xml:id="fn5-183" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Volatinia jacarina:</hi> Parkinson I, pl. 37<hi rend="sup">b</hi>; Solander, p. 119.</p></note></p>
          <p>The fish Brought on board provd to be <hi rend="i">Scomber anxia</hi> and <hi rend="i">Falcatus</hi><note xml:id="fn6-183" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Scomber amia:</hi> now <hi rend="i">Seriola lalandi</hi> Cuv. and Val., Amber Jack. Parkinson II, pl. 99; Solander, p. 275. <hi rend="i">Scomber falcatus</hi> now <hi rend="i">Caranx amblyrhynchus</hi> Cuv. and Val. Parkinson II, pl. 94; Solander, pp. 271–2.</p></note> Coryphéna Hipparis*<note xml:id="fn7-183" n="7"><p>See p. 182, n. 2 above.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Sparus pagrus</hi><note xml:id="fn8-183" n="8"><p>Now <hi rend="i">Pagrus pagrus;</hi> reported by Solander, p. 231, right across the Atlantic.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Sciéna rubens</hi>;<note xml:id="fn9-183" n="9"><p>Now <hi rend="i">Holocentrus ascensionis</hi> (Osbeck), known both as the Welshman and Squirrel-fish. Parkinson II, pl. 63, upper figure; Solander, pp. 249–50.</p></note> the second and last not being before describd we calld them by these names.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n229" n="184"/>
          <p>Afternoon the wind came about South and South by East and it soon came on to blow fresh which we were not at all accustomd to, so we Boarded it<note xml:id="fn1-184" n="1"><p>‘Boarded it’: tacked off and on.</p></note> along shore wihout gaining much.</p>
          <p>9. This morn wind continued South and South by west but is more moderate, but still more sea than we should chuse were we directors of the winds and waves.</p>
          <p>We however stood in with the land till we found ourselves in a large bay the shores of which were very flat; in the middle of this bay were some large hills which lay far inland and made the prospect very remarkable, as expressd in the view.<note xml:id="fn2-184" n="2"><p>Views or ‘coastal profiles’ were drawn in abundance on the voyage, by Buchan and others—Cook did a great many—but this particular one, if it has survived, seems unidentifiable.</p></note> At this time we were by guess within five miles of the shore and our water had decreasd gradualy till we had less than five fathom; it was about four in the Evening so our Captain thought proper to put about and stand off to sea; in the Evening the wind freshend a little but was not near so troublesome as last night.</p>
          <p>10. Wind more moderate this morn; we stood in with the land and made it nearly in the same place as we left it last night, our soundings being from 15 to 10 fathoms.</p>
          <p>After dinner the wind came more to the Eastward and freshend, and little peices of Seaweed now came floating by the ship which we took and it provd to be Sargaso <hi rend="i">fucus natans</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-184" n="3"><p>Genus <hi rend="i">Sargassum</hi> (from Spanish <hi rend="i">sargazo</hi>, seaweed, a name given by mariners to floating seaweeds). The botanist Kjellman recognized about 150 spp.</p></note> which is generaly supposd to increase upon the surface of the sea in the same manner as duck weed <hi rend="i">Lemna</hi> does on fresh water without having any root; this however plainly shewd that it had been rooted in the Coral rock on the bottom, as two specimens particularly had large lumps of the coral still adhering to their bottoms. Among the weed we got were some few animals but scarcely worth mentioning, one <hi rend="i">Balistes</hi><note xml:id="fn4-184" n="4"><p>Possibly a <hi rend="i">Monacanthus</hi> sp.</p></note> but quite a fry so young that it was impossible to referr it to its species; a worm also was in it which provd to be <hi rend="i">Neireis pelagica.</hi><note xml:id="fn5-184" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Nereis pelagicai</hi> a Linnean species of polychaete worm which still bears that name.</p></note></p>
          <p>In the course of this night we ran over a small bank on which the water suddenly shoald to 7 fathom and kept thereabouts for some time, it however deepend gradualy.</p>
          <p>11. Light breezes to day, the wind much more fair than it has been so that we began to get to the Southward. The Thermometer today
						<pb xml:id="n230" n="185"/>
						was no more than 72, so that we felt cold or cool at least, tho we could [not] prevail on ourselves to shut the cabbin windows as we are soon to come into much warmer weather.</p>
          <p>Just before dark the Land was seen ahead which we supposed to be an Island off <name key="name-402276" type="place">Cape Frio</name> so we hoped to be the lengh of Cape Frio by tomorrow morn.</p>
          <p>12. This morn we were abreast of the land which proved as we thought last night to be the Island just without Cape Frio, which is calld in some maps the Isle of Frio;<note xml:id="fn1-185" n="1"><p>If one goes by modern nomenclature, one may feel a little confusion here. Cape Frio (lat. 23* oi’ S, long. 42* 00'W) is itself the south-east extremity both of Cape Frio Island and of the coast of Brazil, where it turns west to Rio de Janeiro. But a mile north-east of the Cape there is a small islet close to the shore. This perhaps is the island referred to at the end of Banks's previous entry, and was what was ‘called in some maps the Isle of Frio’,</p></note> the wind was fair and we passd it with a pleasant Breeze hoping tomorrow to get into the harbour. About noon we saw the hill calld Sugar Loaf<note xml:id="fn2-185" n="2"><p>In modern nomenclature Pào de Aguçar, 1294 feet.</p></note> which is just by the harbours mouth, but it was a long way off yet so there were no hopes of reaching it this night.</p>
          <p>The shore from Cape Frio to this place has been one uninterruptd beach of the whitest Colour I ever saw which they tell me is a white sand.</p>
          <p>This Evening wind still continued fair but very little, we now saw the Sugar Loaf very plain but could not tonight reach it, so shortend sail; we had seen for some time a small vessel under the land which seemd to steer into the harbour as well as we.</p>
          <p>The Land all along this Coast has been exceedingly high inland except in the bay mentiond on the 7<hi rend="sup">th</hi>:<note xml:id="fn3-185" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">sic</hi>, but he means the 9th.</p></note> the mountains seen now about Rio Janeiro were immensely high so that some of our people compared them with the Pike of Tenerife, tho I do not myself think they deserve a comparison so much higher is the Pike. Notwithstanding the hills are high and begin to rise near the shore the beach is sandy and appears to be of a firm sand.</p>
          <p>In the Course of this Evening we aproachd very near the Land and found it very cold, to our feelings at least; the Thermometer at ten O'Clock stood at 68½ which gave us hopes that the countrey would be cooler than we should expect from the accounts of travellers, especially M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Biron<note xml:id="fn4-185" n="4"><p>The reference is to C. Biron, <hi rend="i">Curiositez de la nature et de I'art, aportées dans deux voyages, Pun aux Indes d'Occident en 1698 &amp; 1699, et Pautre awe Indes d'Orient en 1701 &amp; 1702. Avec une relation abregée de ces deux voyages.</hi> Paris 1703, Biron is an obscure figure, who comes into none of the biographical dictionaries; even his Christian name seems to be unknown.</p></note> who says that no business is done here from 10 till 2 on account of the intense heat.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n231" n="186"/>
          <p>13. This Morn the Harbour of Rio Janeiro was right ahead about 2 leagues off but it being quite Calm we made our aproaches very slowly. The sea was inconceveably full of small vermes<note xml:id="fn1-186" n="1"><p>Vermes, a term applied to many invertebrates besides worms from the time of Aristotle until the nineteenth century.</p></note> which we took without the least dificulty; they were almost all new except <hi rend="i">Beroe labiata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-186" n="2"><p>See p. 173, n. 5 above.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Medusa radiata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-186" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Aequorea forskalia</hi> Péron and Lesueur. Parkinson III pl. 48, and Solander, p.455.</p></note> <hi rend="i">fimbriata</hi><note xml:id="fn4-186" n="4"><p>Perhaps a variety of <hi rend="i">A. forskalia?</hi> Parkinson III, pl. 49; Solander, p. 459.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Chrystallina</hi><note xml:id="fn5-186" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Liriope</hi> sp. Parkinson III, pl. 50, and Solander, p. 461.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Dagysa</hi>,<note xml:id="fn6-186" n="6"><p>This is perhaps the <hi rend="i">‘Dagysa costata’</hi> of Parkinson III, pl. 36 lower fig., as this is marked ‘Rio Janeiro: it has not been possible to identify it.</p></note> Soon after that a fishing boat Came a board and sold us three Scombers which proved to be new and were calld <hi rend="i">Salmoneius</hi>;<note xml:id="fn7-186" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Pomatomus saltatrix</hi>, Bluefish or Skipjack. Parkinson III, pl. 90; Solander, p. 277.</p></note> his bates were <hi rend="i">Clupea Chinensis</hi><note xml:id="fn8-186" n="8"><p><hi rend="i">Clupea sinensis</hi> Linn, has not been identified by later workers.</p></note> of which we also procurd specimens.</p>
          <p>As soon as we came well into the River the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> sent M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hicks his first Leutenant with a midshipman to get a pilot and stood up the river expecting him down very soon. He did not nor did the boat till we were on the point of dropping an anchor just under the town; the boat then came without either of our officers, in exchange for whom came a Subaltern Portugese who seemd to have no kind of Business with us; the Cockswain brought word from the Leutenant that he was detaind on shore till the Captain should go off. Soon after we came to an anchor a ten Oard boat came alongside the ship with 12 or 14 soldiers in it who rowed round us without taking any notice of us or saying a word; a quarter of an hour after came a boat in which was a Disembargador<note xml:id="fn9-186" n="9"><p>There is no precise equivalent in English for the word <hi rend="i">Desembargador</hi>, and older English writers at various times used ‘judge’, ‘magistrate’, ‘overseer’ and ‘assessor’. The <hi rend="i">desembargador</hi> was a crown lawyer whose legal functions included both judicial and administrative work; and the <hi rend="i">desembargadores</hi> of the council or tribunal <hi rend="i">da Fazenda</hi> acted as overseers of customs houses. Though they were not primarily customs officials, it was no doubt in his customs capacity that Banks's <hi rend="i">desembargador</hi> rowed round the ship.—I am indebted to Professor C. R. Boxer for generous instruction on this point.</p></note> and a Colonel of a Portugese rejument who askd us many questions which at first seemd to discourage our stay, as telling us that the Governor would furnish us with any quantity of water in two days. In the conclusion however he was immensely civil telling us that the Governor would give us every assistance in his power; that the Leutenant had not been confind but on account of the Practica had not been allowd to go on shore, he should now however be sent on board immediately; that the Captain was welcome to
						<pb xml:id="n232" n="187"/>
						go on shore now but he wishd the rest of the crew might remain on board till the Paper they drew up had been delivered.<note xml:id="fn1-187" n="1"><p>I have discussed the episode of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> at Rio de Janeiro in the Introduction to Cook I, pp. cxxxviii-xl, and in notes to the text of Cook's Journal, and have given the epistolary exchange between Cook and the Viceroy in Appendix I to that volume. There is no essential difference between Cook's account and Banks's, though Banks adds one or two details, in particular on his own movements. The Viceroy, <name type="person" key="name-401789">Don Antonio Rolim de Moura</name> (1709–82), had had a distinguished career in the Portuguese imperial service, but seems hardly by nature to have been fitted to cope with scientific reasoning. It also seems very probable that he was acting under recent orders, which made it difficult for him to give the same sort of good reception to an English vessel which Anson had had at the Brazilian island of St Catherine's in 1741 and Byron at Rio in 1764. The Portuguese also were nervous about spies under the guise of scientists, and their treatment of Bougain ville in 1767 led to official complaints by the French government. It was certainly true that the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> looked most unlike a naval vessel, and the English had a bad reputation both as smugglers on the South American coast and as forgers of documents—though, as Cook pointed out, in one of his exchanges with the Viceroy, it would have been difficult to forge officers’ and marines’ uniforms. Gore reports in his journal (18 November) that ‘one suspicion of us among many Others is that our Ship is a Trading Spy and that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks and the Doctor are both Supercargoes and Engineers and not naturalists for the Business of such being so very abstruse and unprofitable That They cannot believe Gentlemen would come so far as Brazil on that Account only’.</p></note></p>
          <p>14. This morn Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke went ashore, D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself impatiently waiting for his return which he promisd should be the moment he had spoke with the viceroy, who would no doubt tell him that the practica paper had been deliverd and we were all at liberty to come ashore when we pleasd. About twelve he came on board with a Portugese officer in his boat who had been put there by order of the viceroy, out of a compliment as he termd it, and an English gentleman M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forster by name a Leutenant in the Portugese service. The Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> told us that we could not be allowd to have a house or sleep ashore, so the Viceroy had told him, but M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forster told us that he had given orders that no person but the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> and such common sailors as were requird to be upon duty should be permitted to go ashore, and that we the passengers were probably particularly objected to. We however in the Evening dress'd ourselves and attempted to go ashore under pretence of a visit to the Viceroy, but were stopd by the Guard boat whose officer told us that he had particular orders, which he could not transgress, to Lett no officer or Passenger except the Captain pass the boat; after much conversation to no purpose we were obligd to return on board and the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> went ashore to remonstrate to the viceroy about it, but could get no answer but that it was the King of Portugals orders and consequently must be.</p>
          <p>15. This morn the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> went again ashore and told the viceroy that it was nescessary to give the ship a heel, in which case it would be almost impossible for the gentlemen who were passengers to
						<pb xml:id="n233" n="188"/>
						stay on board her; the viceroy as I suppose misunderstood him, and supposing that he wanted to have the ship hove down said that if the ship was reported by one of his carpenters (who should be sent on board) to want such repairs he would give her all nescessaries for so doing; in that case the Gentlemen should have a house ashore, but gave him to understand that a centinel would be put at the door with orders not to let us stir out or any one come in on any pretence whatever.</p>
          <p>16. The Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> went ashore again and remonstrated particularly against the Centinel that was put in his boat whenever he landed or came aboard, which he was told was a compliment but now found to be a guard. He received no satisfactory answers or rather none at all but that it is the King of Portugals orders.</p>
          <p>17. Tird with waiting and remonstrating only in words, both the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> and myself sent ashore written memorials (of which mine is subjoind as well as another with the answers)<note xml:id="fn1-188" n="1"><p>Banks's memorials are not with his journal, but they are extant both in his drafts now in the Commonwealth National Library, Canberra, and with the copy of his letter to the Earl of Morton, 1 December 1768, B.M., Add. MS 34744 (West Papers, XVIII). See Appendix III, Vol. II, pp. 315–20 below. The original letter has been separated from the copies sent with it: the letter is now in the <name type="work" key="name-400310">Nan Kivell</name> collection; the copies of the memorials in the Yale University Library.</p></note> which complain of his excellency the viceroys behaviour to us as a Kings ship as almost a breach of treaty.</p>
          <p>18. Answers to our memorials came on board in which the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> is told that he has no reason to complain, as such usage as he has receivd has been constantly the custom of the Ports of Brasil and that the Viceroy himself servd an English ship just in the same manner at Bahia; as for me I am told that as I have not brought proper credentials from the Court of Lisbon it is impossible that I can be permitted to land.</p>
          <p>19. Both the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> and myself sent answers to his excellencys memorials this morn by the Leutenant, who had orders not to suffer a guard to be put into his boat but if the Guard boat insisted upon it to return on board. The boat let him pass, but the viceroy as soon as he heard that he had come ashore without a guard orderd Centinels to be put into the boat, and on the Leutenant refusing to go on board unless the Centinels are taken out, orderd the boats crew to be taken into custody, the boat detaind and the leutenant to be sent on board in a guard boat under care of an officer. When he came on board he reported what he has seen, that the men in our pinnace made not the least resistance, <choice><orig>not-
							<pb xml:id="n234" n="189"/>
							withstanding</orig><reg>notwithstanding</reg></choice> which the soldiers who took them into custody behavd with great indecency, striking them many times and thrusting them out of the boat. The same guard boat also brought back the letters unopend.</p>
          <p>This Evening it blew very hard at about South, Puffs coming off about three minutes distant from each other, which seldom lasted above half a minute but in that time were as violent as I ever saw.</p>
          <p>At this time Our long boat came on board with 4 cask of rum in her, she with difficulty fetchd the ship and soon after by some mismanagemen[t] which I cannot account for<note xml:id="fn1-189" n="1"><p>Cook mentions no mismanagement. This is not the last time that Banks the landsman casts a sharp critical eye on the sailors.</p></note> broke adrift, carrying with her my small boat which was made fast to her; we had now no boat on board but a small 4 oard yawl, which was immediately sent after her and took her in tow, but notwithstanding all that could be done by the people who rowd in the long boat and those who towd in the yawl she was very soon out of sight, and we were under the greatest uneasiness well knowing that she drove directly upon a reef of Rocks which Runns out from the point of Ilhoa das Ferreiras, just to Leward of where we lay. After remaining in this situation till two in the morning our people cam[e] onboard and told us that the Long boat was sunk, but that they had left her riding to her grapling tho full of water; as for my boat they had in returning to the ship faln in with a reef of rocks, in which dangerous situation they had been obligd to cut her adrift: this was poor comfort tho we were glad to find the people safe, yet the Loss of our long boat which we much feard was perhaps the greatest misfortune that could happen to people who were going as we were upon discoverys.</p>
          <p>I should have mentiond that on the detainder of our boats crew a petty officer was sent ashore with the memorials and a letter from the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> demanding the Boat and men, who was sufferd quietly to go ashore on taking a soldier out of the guard boat; the only answer he got was verbal that the affair could not be settled as yet.</p>
          <p>20. This morn the yawl, now the only boat we had, was sent ashore to ask assistance: they returnd about nine and brought with her our boat and crew that had been detaind, as well as another of the Viceroys which had orders to assist us in searching for our boats.</p>
          <p>The people who came in the Pinnace declard that they never made the least resistance but said that the soldiers struck them
						<pb xml:id="n235" n="190"/>
						often, that they were confind in a loathsome dungeon where their companions were cheifly Blacks who were chaind, but the Cockswain purchasd a better apartment for seven petacks (about as many shilling English).</p>
          <p>Our situation this whole day was better imagind than describd: the Shore boat came onboard at noon that the people might have their victuals but brought no news of the Longboat. Tird with expectation I confess I had almost given over all hopes of ever seeing her again, when Just at dark night the pinnace came bringing with her both the boats and all their contents: we now immediately passd from our disagreable though[t]s to a situation as truly happy, and concluded with defying the Viceroy and all that he could do to us.</p>
          <p>21. Letters came from the Viceroy to both the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> and myself, in which he told me very politely that it is not in his power to permit to go ashore; in the cap<hi rend="sup">tns</hi> he raises some doubts of our ship being a Kings ship, so I who could ground my pretensions to going ashore on no other Foundation thought it best to drop them, hoping that by and by when things were more quiet I might have an opportunity of smugling myself ashore.</p>
          <p>22. This morn I sent my servants ashore at day break who stayd till dark night and brought off many plants and insects.</p>
          <p>23. The viceroys answer to the Cap<hi rend="sup">tns</hi> last memorial came on board in which the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> is accusd of smugling, which made us all angry but our venting our spleen against the Viceroy will be of very little service to us.</p>
          <p>24. My servants went ashore again and brought off many plants &amp;c.</p>
          <p>25. This morn D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander went into the town as surgeon of the Ship, to visit a friar who had desird that the surgeon might be sent to him; he receivd civilities from the people rather more than he could expect.<note xml:id="fn1-190" n="1"><p>Solander does not mention this episode in his letter to Ellis, but gives a rather different account of his day as ‘surgeon's mate’. See below, II, pp. 308–9. Monkhouse, the surgeon, was on shore every day to buy provisions.</p></note></p>
          <p>26. I myself went ashore this morn before day break and stayd till dark night; while I was ashore I met several of the inhabitants who were very civil to me, taking me to their houses where I bought of them stock for the ship tolerably cheap, a porker midlingly fat for 11 shill, a muscovy duck something under two shil<hi rend="sup">s</hi> &amp;c.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n236" n="191"/>
          <p>The countrey where I saw it abounded with vast variety of Plants and animals, mostly such as have not been describd by our naturalists as so few have had an opportunity of coming here;<note xml:id="fn1-191" n="1"><p>The Pocket Book contains 245 specimens collected on this brief encounter with the Brazilian flora.</p></note> indeed no one that I know of even tolerably curious has been here since Marcgrave<note xml:id="fn2-191" n="2"><p>‘<name type="person" key="name-401843">George Marcgrave</name>’ (1610–44) was the German physician and traveller, who with Piso accompanied the Prince of Nassau on his expedition to Brazil in 1636 (cf. p. 178, n. 1 above). He travelled in the country for six years, from Rio Grande to Pernambuco, making observations on geography, astronomy and natural history. These were edited after his death in Guinea in 1644 published with Piso's in the <hi rend="i">Histaria Naturalis Brasiliae</hi> (1648) as <hi rend="i">Georgii Marggravii historiae rerum naturalium Brasilae libri octo.</hi> The first three books are devoted to plants, the others to fish, birds, quadrupeds and serpents, insects, and an imperfect sketch of the country and its inhabitants.</p></note> and Piso about the year 1640, so it is easy to guess the state in which the nat hist of such a countrey must be.</p>
          <p>To give a Cataloge of what I found would be a trouble very little to the purpose, as every particular is mentiond in the general catalogues of this place.<note xml:id="fn3-191" n="3"><p>See Appendix I, Vol. II, pp. 289–96 below.</p></note> I cannot however help mentioning some which struck me the most and consequently gave me particular pleasure: these were cheifly the parasitick plants especialy renealmias,<note xml:id="fn4-191" n="4"><p>Dr L. B. Smith suggests these were <hi rend="i">Tillandsia recuroata</hi> and <hi rend="i">T. usneoides</hi>, formerly classified as Renealmiae.</p></note> for I was not fortunate enough to see one epidendron, and the different species of Bromelia,<note xml:id="fn5-191" n="5"><p>Both ‘epidendron’ and ‘Bromelia’ are here used in the general sense, as the terms orchids and bromeliads are today.</p></note> many not before describd had I been fortunate enough to see fructifications which I did of very Few. <hi rend="i">B. Karratas</hi> I saw here growing on the decayd trunk of a tree 50 feet high at least, which it had so intirely coverd that the whole seemd to be a tree of Karratas.<note xml:id="fn6-191" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Neoregelia</hi>, most likely <hi rend="i">N. cruenta</hi> (Graham) L. B. Smith, would probably be the first bromeliads encountered on making a beachhead <hi rend="i">(teste</hi> L. B, Smith).</p></note> The growth of the<note xml:id="fn7-191" n="7"><p>Banks here writes ‘Rizophane’ or ‘Rizophanes’, but deletes the word without substitution.</p></note> also pleasd me much tho I had before got a very good Idea of it from Rumphius,<note xml:id="fn8-191" n="8"><p><name key="name-150214" type="person">George Eberhard Rumpf or Rumphius</name> (1626–93) was a German physician and botanist who went to the East Indies, made his way in 1654 to the Sunda Islands, and entering the service of the <name key="name-101202" type="organisation">Dutch East India Company</name>, became their consul and principal merchant at Amboina. He was a good servant to the Company, but a still better naturalist, and his travels in the islands enabled him to make remarkable collections. In 1669 he was on the point of returning home when he was smitten with total blindness, apparently the result of overwork in an unfavourable climate. This misfortune was followed by the death of his wife and two of his children in an earthquake in 1674. He remained, never theless, for the rest of his life at Amboina, and with the help of secretaries and his son produced his classic <hi rend="i">Herbarium Amboinense</hi> (7 vols, folio, Amsterdam 1741–55); this, together with its supplement or <hi rend="i">Auctuarium</hi>, presented students with a Dutch and Latin text and 695 plates (before his blindness Rumphius was a fine draughtsman). A less important work is the <hi rend="i">D'Amboinsche Rariteitkamer</hi> (1705), a folio volume mainly devoted to shells and crustaceans. Banks, it will be seen, refers to Rumphius more than once.</p></note> who has a very good figure of
						<pb xml:id="n237" n="192"/>
						the tree in his <hi rend="i">Herb: Amboin.</hi> Tab: Add to these the whole Contrey Coverd with the Beatifull blossom of <hi rend="i">Malpigias, Bannis-terias, Pasifloras</hi>, not to Forget <hi rend="i">Ponciana</hi><note xml:id="fn1-192" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Poinciana pulcherrima</hi>, as shown by the existing herbarium collection.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Mimosa sensitiva</hi><note xml:id="fn2-192" n="2"><p>A general term for several species of sensitive-leaved <hi rend="i">Acacias</hi> and related genera.</p></note> and a beatifull species of <hi rend="i">Clutia</hi><note xml:id="fn3-192" n="3"><p>Possibly the plant they called <hi rend="i">Clusia dodecapetala</hi> (<hi rend="i">Pereskia</hi> sp.), but the pertinent coll. has not been located—none was preserved in the Pocket Book. See pl. 25.</p></note> of which I saw great plenty, in short the wildest Spotts here were varied with a greater quantity of Flowers as well as more beatifull ones than our best devisd gardens, a sight infinitely pleasing to the Eye for a short time tho no doubt it would soon tire with the continuance of it.</p>
          <p>The birds of many species especialy the smaller ones sat in great abundance on the bough's, many of them coverd with most Elegant plumage. I shot <hi rend="i">Loxia Brasiliensis</hi><note xml:id="fn4-192" n="4"><p>Possibly <hi rend="i">Ramphocoelus brasilius</hi> (Linn.); see pl. 36a of Parkinson I, on the front of which is written in Banks's hand <hi rend="i">Loxia mexicana’.</hi></p></note> and saw several specimens of them. In sects also were here in great abundance, many species very fine but much more Nimble than our Européans especialy the Butterflies, which almost all flew near the topps of the trees and were very difficult to come at except when the sea breeze blew fresh, which kept them low down among the trees where they might be taken. Humming birds I also saw of one species but could not shoot them.</p>
          <p>The banks of the Sea and more remarkably all the Edges of small brooks were coverd with innumerable quantities of small Crabbs, <hi rend="i">cancer vocans</hi> Linn,<note xml:id="fn5-192" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Uca vocans</hi>, one of the fiddler crabs in which the sexes differ as Banks describes. They are noted for the briefly resplendent colours assumed during courtship by the male, who then uses his greatly enlarged claw for beckoning to the female.</p></note> one hand of which is very large. Among these were many both whose hands were remarkably small and of equal size: these my black servant told me were females of the others, and indeed all I examind, which were many, provd to be females tho whether realy of the same species with <hi rend="i">vocans</hi> I cannot determine on so short an acquaintance.</p>
          <p>I saw but little cu[l]tivation and that seemd to be taken but little pains with; grass land was the cheif on which were many Lean cattle feeding and lean they might well be, for almost all the species of grass which I observd here were creepers, and consequently so close to the ground that tho there might be upon them a sufficient bite for horses or sheep yet how horned cattle could live at all was all that appeard extraordinary to me.</p>
          <p>I also saw their gardens or small patches in which they cultivate many sorts of European garden stuff as Cabbage, peas, beans,
						<pb xml:id="n238" n="193"/>
						kidney beans, turnips, white raddishes, pumkins, &amp;c. but all much inferior to ours except perhaps the last; here also they grow water melons and pine apples the only Fruits which I have seen them cultivate. The water melons are very good but the Pines much inferior to those I have tasted in Europe; hardly one I have yet had could have been reckond among the midling sort, many were worse than I have seen sent from table in England where nobody would Eat them, tho in general they are very sweet they have not the least flavour; but more of their Fruits by and by.</p>
          <p>In these gardens grow also Yamms and Mandihoca or Cassada which supplys the place of Bread here, for as our Européan bread corn will not grow here all the Flour they have is brought from Portugal at a large expence, too great for even the midling people to purchase much more the inferior ones.</p>
          <p>27. This morn when the Boats returnd from watering they brought word that they heard it said in the town that people were sent out in search of some of our people who were ashore without leave: this we concluded meant either D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander or myself which made it nescessary for us to go no more ashore while we stayd.</p>
          <p>28. These three days nothing material hapned, Every thing went</p>
          <p>29. on as usual only we if possible increasd our haste to be gone</p>
          <p>30. from this place.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d5" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">December</hi> 1768</head>
          <p>1. This Morn our boat returning from shore brought us the very disagreable news that M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forster, who I before mentiond, was taken into custody chargd with having smuggled things ashore from our ship: this charge tho totaly without foundation was lookd upon as a sufficient reason for his being put into prison, but we beleive the real cause to be his having shewn some countenance to his Countrey men, as we heard at the same time that five or six Englishmen residing in the town and a poor Portugese who used to assist our people in buying things were all put into prison also without any reason being given.<note xml:id="fn1-193" n="1"><p>For further information about the unfortunate <name type="person" key="name-402045">Thomas Forster</name>, see his letter to Banks of 5 November 1771, printed in the Appendix, II pp. 321–3 below.</p></note></p>
          <p>2. This Morn thank god we have got all we want from these illiterate impolite gentry, so we got up our anchor and saild to the point of Ilhoa dos cobras, where we were to lay and wait for a fair wind which shoud come every night from the Land. We were fortunate in the arrival of a Spanish Brig comeing from Buenos
						<pb xml:id="n239" n="194"/>
						Ayres with Letters for Spain which arrivd about a week ago; her officers were receivd ashore with all possible politeness and allowd to take a house without the least hesitation. The Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> <name type="person" key="name-401788">Don Antonio de Monte Negro y Velasco</name> with all possible politeness offerd to take our letters to Europe which we accepted of as a very Fortunate circumstance and sent them on board this morn.<note xml:id="fn1-194" n="1"><p>These letters included a very full and indignant report by Cook to the Admiralty on his controversy with the Viceroy, and a letter from Banks to the President of the Royal Society.—See II pp. 313 ff- below. Cook also left a packet of his correspondence with the Viceroy with that official for forwarding to Lisbon, and thence to London.</p></note></p>
          <p>3. 4.} We remaind without any Sea breeze.</p>
          <p>5. This Morn early a dead calm, we attemptd to tow down with our boats and came near abreast of S<hi rend="sup">ta</hi> Cruz their cheif Forti fication, when to our great surprize the Fort fird two shot at us one of which went just over our Mast: we immediately brought to and sent ashore to enquire the reason, were told that no order had come down to allow us to pass without which no ship was ever sufferd to go below that fort. We were now obligd to send to town to know the reason of such extraordinary behavior, the Answer came back about 11 that it was a mistake, for the Brigadier had forgot to send the letter which had been wrote some days: it was however sent by the boat and we had leave to proceed. We now began to weigh our anchor which had been droppd in foul ground when we were fird at, but it was hung so fast in a rock that it could not be got out while the Land breeze blew, which today continued almost till four in the Even; as soon as the Sea breeze came we filld our sails and carrying the ship over the anchor tripd it but were obligd to sail back almost as far as we had towd the ship in the Morn.</p>
          <p>This day and yesterday the air was crowded in an uncommon manner with Butterflies cheifly of one sort, of which we took as many as we pleasd on board the ship, their quantity was so large that at some times I may say many thousands were in view at once in almost any direction you could look, the greatest part of them much above our mast heads.</p>
          <p>6. No land breeze today so we are confind in our disagreable situation without a possibility of moving: many curses were this day expended on his excellence.</p>
          <p>7. This morn weighd and stood out to sea. As soon as we came to S<hi rend="sup">ta</hi> Cruz the pilot desired to be dischargd and with him our enemy
						<pb xml:id="n240" n="195"/>
						the guard boat went off, so we were left our own masters and immediately resolved to go ashore on one of the Islands in the mouth of the harbour: their ran a great swell but we made shift to land on one calld Raza,<note xml:id="fn1-195" n="1"><p>’… sent a Boat to one of the Islands laying before the Bay to cut Brooms a thing we were not permitted to do while we lay in the Harbour’.—Cook I, p. 29.</p></note> on which we gatherd many species of Plants and some insects. <hi rend="i">Alstromeria salsilla</hi><note xml:id="fn2-195" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Bomarea edulis</hi> Herb., but the Banks and Solander specimen is immature and identification uncertain. All the Brazilian specimens collected have tickets with two slits for supping over the stem; those from Madeira lack this feature.</p></note> was here in tolerable plenty and <hi rend="i">Amarillis mexicana</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-195" n="3"><p>Probably <hi rend="i">Hippeastrum reginae</hi> Herb.—<hi rend="i">Amaryllis reginae</hi> of the Banks-Solander MS. Catalogue, p. 12—but the pertinent coll. has not been located. According to Spix and Martius, Banks on this occasion secured one very lovely prize, the irid <hi rend="i">Neomarica northiana</hi>, referred to by them under a different name: ‘it was upon an island … which lies before the mouth of the bay, and is called Ilha raza, that Sir Joseph Banks, when he touched at Rio de Janeiro in the company of Captain Cook, discovered the beautiful <hi rend="i">Moraea northiana</hi>, which has since then become the ornament of European gardens’. <hi rend="i">Travels in Brazil, in the years 1817–1820</hi> (London 1824); I, p. 226. If this is so, it is curious that Banks does not mention collecting the very distinctive plant; nor can any name used by him for it be perceived in the Catalogue. We may note another very beautiful plant that he did collect, <hi rend="i">Bougainvillea spectabilis</hi>, Willd.—the <hi rend="i">Calyxis ternaria</hi> Mscr. of the Pocket Book, p. 21.</p></note> they were the most specious<note xml:id="fn4-195" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Specious:</hi> used apparently in its obsolete sense of beautiful, pleasing to the sight. <name type="person" key="name-402042">Sir Thomas Browne</name>, quoted in O.E.D., refers to ‘fair and specious Plants’.</p></note> plants; we stayd till about 4 o Clock and then came aboard the ship heartily tired, for the desire of doing as much as we could in a short time had made us all exert ourselves in a particular manner tho exposd to the hottest rays of the sun just at noonday.</p>
          <p>Now we are got fairly to Sea and have intirely got rid of these troublesome people I cannot help spending some time in describing thern tho I was not myself once in their town, yet my intelligence coming from D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander who was, and our Surgeon M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> <name key="name-134496" type="person">Monkhouse</name> a very sensible man who was ashore every day to buy our provisions, I think cannot err much from truth.</p>
          <p>The town of Rio de Janiero the capital of the Portugese dominions in America situate on the banks of the River of that name, both are call'd I apprehend from the Roman saint Januarius accord[in]g to the Spanish and Portugese custom of naming their discoveries from the Saint on whose feast they are made.<note xml:id="fn5-195" n="5"><p>Banks's apprehension was wrong. Rio de Janeiro is not situated on a river but on a bay, the discovery of which is generally attributed by Portuguese historians to Andrè Gonçalves, on 1 January 1502. Gonçalves however thought he had found the mouth of a great river—hence its name, the River of January.</p></note></p>
          <p>It is regular and well built after the fashion of Portugal, every house having before its windows a Lattice of wood behind which is a little balcony. For size it is much larger than I could have thought, probably little inferior to any of our Countrey towns
						<pb xml:id="n241" n="196"/>
						in England Bristol or Liverpool not excepted;<note xml:id="fn1-196" n="1"><p>Cook: ‘This City and adjacent parts about the Bay are said to contain one hundred thousand Souls, but not much above a twentieth part are Whites the rest are blacks many of whom are free and seem to live in tolerable circumstances’.—I, p. 33.</p></note> the streets are all straight intersecting each other at Right angles and have this peculiar Convenience, that much the greater number lay in one direction and are commanded by the Gunns of their citadel calld S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Sebastian which is situate on the top of a hill over looking the town.</p>
          <p>It is supplyd with water by an aqueduct which brings it from the neighbouring hills upon two stories of arches, said in some places to be very high; the water that this brings is conveyd into a fountain in the great square immediately opposite the Governors palace, which<note xml:id="fn2-196" n="2"><p>i.e. the fountain, not the palace.</p></note> is guarded by a sentry who has sufficient work to keep regularity and order among so many as are always in waiting at this place; there is also water laid into some other part of the town but how it is brought there I could not hear, only that it was better than the fountain which is exceedingly indifferent, so much so as not to be likd by us tho we had been two months at sea in which time our water was almost continualy bad.<note xml:id="fn3-196" n="3"><p>This is a revealing comment; for it summarizes one of the great problems of nautical administration at the time, and explains Cook's determination to lose no opportunity of supplying his ships with fresh water. If Cook could not keep water sweet, who could ? There was no solution to the problem till the discovery in the nineteenth century that wooden casks were unsuitable containers, and the substitution of metal.</p></note></p>
          <p>The Churches here are very fine dressd out with more ornaments even than those in Europe, and all parts of their religion is carried on with more shew; their processions in particular are very extrordinary, every day one or other of the parishes go in solemn order with all the insignia of their church, altar, host &amp;c through their parish, begging for what they can get and praying in all form at every Corner of a street.</p>
          <p>While we were there one of the largest churches in the town was rebuilding and for that reason the parish belonging to it had leave to walk through the whole City, which they did once a week and collected much money for the carrying on of their Edifice: at this ceremony all boys under a certain age were obligd to attend nor were the gentlemens sons ever excusd. Each of these were dressd in a Black cassock with a short red Cloak reaching half way down their shoulders, and carried in his hand a Lanthorn hung on the End of a pole about 6 or 7 feet long, the light caused by this (for there were always at least 200 Lights) is greater than can be imagind; I myself who saw it out of the cabbin windows
						<pb xml:id="n242"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP008a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP008a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP008a-g"/><head>Pl. II. <hi rend="i">Bougainvillea spectabilis</hi><lb/>
								Brazil</head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n243"/>
						<pb xml:id="n244" n="197"/>
						call[d] together my mess mates and shewd it to them imagining that the town was on fire.</p>
          <p>Besides this traveling<note xml:id="fn1-197" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">traveling</hi> substituted for the more accurate <hi rend="i">walking</hi>, no doubt because of the phrase <hi rend="i">who walks</hi> immediately after.</p></note> religion a man who walks the streets has opportunity enough to shew his attachment to any saint in the Calendar, for every corner and almost every house has before it a little cupboard in which some Saint or other keeps his Residence, and least he should not see his votaries in the night he is furnishd with a small lamp which hangs before his little glass window: to these it is very customary to pray and sing hymns with all the vociferation imaginable, as may be imagind when I say that I and every one Else in the Ship heard it very distinctly every night tho we lay at least half a mile from the town.</p>
          <p>The Goverment of this place Seems to me to be much more despotick even than that of Portugal tho many precautions have been taken to render it otherwise. The Cheif Magistrates are the Viceroy, the Governour of the town and a Council whose number I could not Learn, but only that the Viceroy had in this the casting vote: without the consent of this Council nothing material should be done, yet every day shews that the Viceroy and Governour at least if not all the rest do the most unjust things without consulting any one. Puting a man into prison without giving him a hearing and keeping him there till he is glad at any rate to get out without asking why he was put in, or at best sending him to Lisbon to be tried there without letting his family here know where he is gone to, is very common. This we experien[c]d while here, for every one who had interpreted for our people, and some who had only assisted in buying provisions for them, were put into Jail merely I suppose to shew us their power. I should however except from this one <name type="person" key="name-401914">John Burrish</name> an officer in their customs, a man who has been here 13 years and is so compleatly become a Portugese that he is known by no other name than Don John: he was of service to our people, tho what he did was so clogd with a suspicious fear of offending the Portugese as renderd it disgustfull. It is nescessary that any one who should Come here should know his Character, which is mercenary tho contented with a little as the present given to him demonstrated, which consisted of 1 doz<hi rend="sup">n</hi> of beer 10 gall<hi rend="sup">s</hi> of Brandy 10 peices of ships beef and as many of Pork: this was what he himself askd for, and sent on board the Cagg for the spirit and with this he was more than satisfied.<note xml:id="fn2-197" n="2"><p>Burrish does not come into either Cook's Journal or his account of the Rio de Janeiro affair written to the Admiralty, but in his draft of that account, now in the Mitchell Library, is a passage omitted from his final version: [referring to his memorial to the Viceroy of 17 November] ‘a Copy of which to gether with the answer I the next day receved I have here inclosed, with his Excellencys answer came on board M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Burrish an English Gentlemen who resides here, to translate it, this gentlemen offer'd to accommodate me with directions for sailing in to the southern parts on this coast and in some measure advised me to gon <hi rend="i">[sic]</hi> on shore and by force oppose a Soldier being put into my Boat, this advice of his surprised me as he had upon all occation before been very shy of giving his advice, but when he did it, it was to bear patiently any restrictions they laid upon me’. Burrish's signature to a receipt for an account paid by Cook, transmitted to the Victualling Board, 30 November, appears on the documents now in the Public Library. Auckland. No douot as an agent the man was in a difficult position—particularly if, as Banks says, he was a customs officer.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n245" n="198"/>
          <p>They have a very extrordinary method of keeping people from traveling — to hinder them I suppose from going into any districk where gold or diamonds may be found, as there are more of such than they can possibly guard, which is this: there are certain bounds beyond which no man must go, these vary every month at the discretion of the Vic[e]roy, sometimes they are a few sometimes many Leagues Round the City: Every man must in consequence of this come to town to know where the Bounds are, for if he is taken by the guards who constantly patrole on their edges he is infallibly put in prison, even if he is within them, unless he can tell where they are.</p>
          <p>The inhabitants here are very numerous, they consist of Portugese, negroes, and Indians aborigines of the countrey. The township of Rio, whose extent I could not learn but was only told that it was but a small part of the Capitanea or province, is said to contain 37,000 whites and about 17 negroes to each white, which makes their numbers 629,000 and the number of inhabitants in all 666,000. As for the Indians they do not live in this neighbourhood tho many of them are always here doing the Kings work, which they are obligd to do by turns. for small pay for which purpose they come from their habitations at a distance. I saw many of them as the guard boat was constantly rowd by them, they are of a light copper colour with long lank black hair; as to their policy or manner of living when at home I could not learn any thing about it.</p>
          <p>The military here consist of 12 regiments of Regulars, 6 Portugese and 6 Creolians and as many of Provincial militia who may be assembled upon occasion. To the regulars the inhabitants shew great deference, for as M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forster an English Gentleman in their service told me, if any of the people were not to pull off their hatts when they meet an officer he would immediately knock them down, which custom renders the people remarkably Civil to strangers who have at all a gentlemanlike appearance. All the officers of these regiments are expected three times a day to attend at the
						<pb xml:id="n246" n="199"/>
						Sala or Viceroys levee, where they formaly ask for commands, where their constant answer is there is nothing new: this policy is Intended as I have been told to prevent them, from going into the countrey which it most effectualy does.</p>
          <p>This town as well as all others in South America belonging either to Spanyards or Portugese has long been infamous for the un-chastity of its women; the people who we talkd with here confirmd the accounts declaring, especialy M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Forster, that he did not beleive there was one modest woman in the township, which I must own appeard to me a most wonderfull assertion but I must take it for granted as I had not even the least opportunity to go among them. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander who was ashore declares however that as soon as it was night the windows were every one furnishd with one or more women, who as he walkd along with two more gentlemen gave nosegays to which ever of them each preferrd, which Complement the gentlemen returnd in kind, notwithstanding which each of them threw away whole hatfulls of flowers in their walk tho it was not a long one.</p>
          <p>Assassinations are I fancy more frequent here than in Lisbon as the churches still take upon them to give protection to criminals: one accident of the kind happned in the sight of <name type="person" key="name-401768">S. Evans</name> our Cockswain, a man who I can depend upon, who told me he saw two people talking together to all appearance in a freindly manner, when one on a sudden drew a knife and stabbd the other twice and ran away pursued by some negroes who saw the fact likewise, but what the farther Event of this was I could not learn.</p>
          <p>Thus much for the town and its inhabitants. I shall now speak of the countrey which I know rather more of than of the other as I was ashore one whole day: in that time I saw much Cleard ground but cheifly of an indifferent quality, tho doubtless there is such as is very good as the sugar and tobacco which is sent to Europe from hence plainly testifies; but all that I saw was employd in Breeding cattle of which they have great plenty, tho their pastures are the worst I ever saw on account of the shortness of the grass, and consequently the beef sold in the market tho it is tolerably cheap is so lean that an Englishman can hardly Eat it.<note xml:id="fn1-199" n="1"><p>Cook: ‘Fresh Beef (tho bad) is to be had in plenty, at about 2¼<hi rend="sup">d</hi> a pound and Jerke'd [dried] Beef about the same price’.—Cook I, p. 33.</p></note> I likewise saw great plantations of <hi rend="i">Iatropha manikot</hi><note xml:id="fn2-199" n="2"><p>Banks seems to write ‘manikot’ rather than ‘manihot’, perhaps with ‘manioc’, the alternative name for cassava, in his mind. See p. 183, n. 1 above.</p></note> which is calld in the West Indies Cassada and here Farina de Pao i.e. wooden meal, a very proper name, for the cakes they make with it taste as if
						<pb xml:id="n247" n="200"/>
						they were made of Sawdust and yet it is the only bread which is Eat here—for European bread is sold at nearly the rate of a shilling a pound, and is also exceeding bad on account of the flour which is generaly heated in its passage from Europe.</p>
          <p>The Countrey produces many more articles but as I did not see them or hear them mentiond I shall not set them down, tho doubtless it is capable of bringing<note xml:id="fn1-200" n="1"><p>Apparently in the obsolete sense of ‘bringing forth’.</p></note> any thing that our West India Islands do, notwithstanding this they have neither Coffee or chocolate but import both from Lisbon.</p>
          <p>Their fruits however I must not pass over in Silence, they have several I shall particularly mention those that were in season while we were there, which were Pine apples, Melons, water melons, oranges, Limes, Lemons, sweet Lemons, citrons, Plantanes, Bananes, Mangos, Mamme apples,<note xml:id="fn2-200" n="2"><p>The Mamey, or Mammee Apple, <hi rend="i">Mammea americana</hi> L., has a large fruit with a yellow pulp of taste generally esteemed pleasant; but for Banks's opinion see p. 201 below.</p></note> acajou apples and nutts,<note xml:id="fn3-200" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Anacardium occidentale</hi> L.; acajou generally corrupted in English to ‘cashew’. The ‘apple’ is a fleshy pear-shaped receptacle—not the fruit—which bears the nut on its end. As will be seen, Banks ate the wrong thing, and formed an unfavourable opinion.</p></note> Jamboira,<note xml:id="fn4-200" n="4"><p>Jambosa, <hi rend="i">Eugenia jambos</hi> L. The early spread of Eugenias is indicated by Philip Miller's account (<hi rend="i">Gard, Diet.</hi> ed. 8, 1768), where there is mention of Dr Heberden's sending him plants of <hi rend="i">E. malaccensis</hi> received from Brazil.</p></note> another sort which bears a small black fruit,<note xml:id="fn5-200" n="5"><p>Jaboticaba, <hi rend="i">Myrciaria caudiflora</hi>, which Banks probably saw detached, otherwise he would surely have remarked on the cauliflorous habit.</p></note> Coco nutts, Palm nuts of two kinds,<note xml:id="fn6-200" n="6"><p>He seems here to be referring to the fruit of the pandanus.</p></note> Palm berries.<note xml:id="fn7-200" n="7"><p>‘Palm berries’: the allusion is doubtless to soft-fruited palms such as genus <hi rend="i">Butia.</hi></p></note> Of these I must seperately give my opinion, as no doubt it will seem strange to some that I should assert that I have eat many of them and especialy pine apples better in England than any I have met with here. Begin then with the pines as the Fruit from which I expected the most, they being I beleive natives of this countrey, tho I cannot say I have seen or even heard of their being at this time wild any where in this neighbourhood: they are cultivated much as we do cabbages in Europe or rather with less care, the plants being set between bedds of any kind of garden stuff and sufferd to take their chance, the price of them in the Market is seldom above and generaly under a vintain which is 3 halfpence. All that D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself tasted we agreed were much inferior to those we had eat in England; tho in general they were more Juicy and sweet yet they had no flavour but were like sugar melted in water. Their Melins are still worse from the Specimen we had, for we got but one, which was perfectly mealy and insipid; their water melons
						<pb xml:id="n248" n="201"/>
						however are very good for they have some little flavour or at least a degree of acid which ours have not. Oranges are large and very juicy, we thought them good, doubtless better than any we had tasted at home, but probably Italy and Portugal produce as good had we been there in the time of their being in perfection. Lemons and limes are like ours, Sweet Lemons are sweetish and without flavour, Citrons have a sickly faint taste otherwise are like them. Mangos were not in perfection but promisd to be a very fine fruit, they are about the size of a peach, full of a melting yellow pulp not unlike that of a summer peach which has a very gratefull flavour, but in all we had it was spoild by a taste of turpentine which I am told is not found in the ripe ones. Bananas are in shape and size like a small thick sausage, coverd with a thick yellow rind, which is peeld off and the fruit within is of a consistence which might be expected from a mixture of Butter and flour but a little Slimey, its taste is sweet with a little perfume. Plantanes differ from these in being longer and thinner and having less lusciousness in their taste: both these fruits were disagreable to most of our people but after some use I became tolerably fond of them. Acajou or casshou is shapd like an apple but larger, he taste very disagreab[l]e sourish and bitter, the nut grows at the top of them.<note xml:id="fn1-201" n="1"><p>Cashew nuts contain a poisonous juice in the shell which is driven off by roasting. The kernel contains an irritant oil painful to the lips and tongue when eaten raw.</p></note> Mamme apples are bigger than a Codlin in England, Coverd with a deep yellow skin, the pulp on the inside is very insipid or rather disagreable to the taste, and full of small round seeds coverd with a thick mucilage which continualy Cloy your mouth. Jamboira is the same as I saw at Madeira, a fruit calculated more to please the smell than the taste; the other sort are small and black and resemble much the taste of our English bilberries. Coco nutts are so well known in England that I need only say I have tasted as good there as any I met with here. Palm nutts of two sorts, one long and shapd like dates the other round, both these are rosted before their kernels are Eatable and Even then they are not so good a[s] Coco nuts. Palm berries appear much like Black grapes, they are the fruit of <hi rend="i">Bactris minor</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-201" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Bactris minor</hi> is of difficult identity. Perhaps Banks refers to Jacquin's <hi rend="i">B. minor.</hi> Gaertner based his name on a Banks collection but not of Banks's own gathering; it was evidently of Jamaican origin. <hi rend="i">Index Kewensis</hi> identifies this as <hi rend="i">Acrocomia lasiospatha</hi>?; Dahlgren (1936), as <hi rend="i">A. aculeata.</hi></p></note> but for Eating have scarce any pulp covering a very large stone and what there is has nothing but a light acid to recommend it. Here are also the
						<pb xml:id="n249" n="202"/>
						fruits of several species of prickle pears<note xml:id="fn1-202" n="1"><p>Fleshy fruit of the cactus <hi rend="i">Opuntia ficus-indica</hi>, a cultigen of ancient and uncertain derivation. Though the genus is most probably of American origin, Theophrastus asserted that it grew about Opuntium, hence the generic name. Cf. Philip Miller (<hi rend="i">Gard. Dict.</hi> ed. 8, 1768) for early notes.</p></note> which are very insipid. Of European Fruits I saw apples but very mealy and insipid and one peach which was also a very bad one.</p>
          <p>Tho this Countrey should produce many and very valuable druggs we could not find any in the apothecarys shops but <hi rend="i">Pareira Brava</hi> and <hi rend="i">Balsam Copivi</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-202" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Pareira brava</hi> in Linnaeus's time referred to <hi rend="i">Cissampelos pareira</hi>, ‘Velvet-leaf’; but the name was later given to the related plants, <hi rend="i">Chondrodendron tomentosum</hi> R. and P. or <hi rend="i">C. ovatum</hi>—the former Peruvian, the latter Brazilian. The root was much esteemed for urinary complaints, and seems to have been an important export from Brazil in the late eighteenth century and through most of the nineteenth. ‘Balsam Copivi’ is a seldom used name for the drug extracted from the widely known Copaiba or Copaiva, <hi rend="i">Copaifera lansdorfii</hi> Desv. (properly <hi rend="i">langsdorfii</hi>)—‘Copaiva Balsam’. Burton has an interesting note on the tree, to which he refers as a ‘leguminous celebrity’, and calls <hi rend="i">Pau de Oleo</hi>, ‘Oil-wood’: he describes the Indian mode of gathering the oil and its uses.—<hi rend="i">Explorations of the Highlands of the Brazil</hi> (London 1869), II, p. 84.</p></note> of both which we bought at excessive cheap prices and had very good of the sort. I fancy the drug trade is cheifly carried on to the northward as is that of the Dying woods, at least we could hear nothing of them here.</p>
          <p>For manufactures I know of none carried on here except that of Cotton hammocks, which are usd for people to be carried about in as we do Sedan chairs, these are made cheifly by the Indians. But the cheif riches of the countrey comes from the mines, which are situated far up in the countrey, indeed no one could tell me how far, for even the situation of them is as carefully as possible conceald and Troops are continualy employd in guarding the Roads that lead to them, so that it is next to impossible for any man to get a sight of them except those who are employd there; at least no man would attempt it from mere curiosity for every body who is found on the road without being able to give a good account of himself is hangd immediately.</p>
          <p>From these mines a great quantity of gold certainly comes but it is purchasd at a vast expence of lives; 40,000 negroes are annualy imported on the Kings accompt for this purpose, and notwithstanding that the year before last they dyed so fast that 20,000 more were obligd to be draughted from the town of Rio.</p>
          <p>Pretious stones are also found here in very large quantities, so large that they do not allow more than a certain quantity to be collected in a year, which is done thus: a troop of people are sent into the Countrey where they are found and orderd to return when they have collected a certain quantity, which they sometimes do in a month more or less, then they return and after that it is
						<pb xml:id="n250" n="203"/>
						death for any one to be found in the Countrey on any pretence whatever till the next year.</p>
          <p>Diamonds Topazes of several different qualities and amethysts are the stones that are cheifly found. Of the first I did not see any but was told that the viceroy had by him large quantities and would sell them on the King of Portugals account, but in that case they would not be at all cheaper than those in Europe. Topazes and amethysts I bought a few of for specimens; the former were divided into three sorts of very different value, Calld here pinga dogua Qualidade premeiro and segondo, and chrystallos ormerilles; they were sold large and small good and bad together by octavos or the eighth part of an ounce, the first sort 4<hi rend="sup">sh</hi>:9<hi rend="sup">d</hi>; 2[nd sort] 4:0; 3 [rd sort]. Amethysts. But it was smugling in the highest degree to have any thing to do with them formerly there were Jewelers here who wo[r]kd stones, but about 14 months ago orders came from the Court of Portugal that no more stones should be wrought here except on his account; the Jewellers were immediately orderd to bring all their tools to the Viceroy which they were obligd to do, and from that time to this have not been sufferd to do any thing for their support. Here are however a number of slaves who work stones for the King of Portugal.</p>
          <p>The Coin current here is either that of Portugal especialy 36 shill peices, or Coin made here which is much debasd, especialy the silver which are calld petacks, of which there are two sorts one of less value than the other, easily distinguishable by the number of rees markd on the outside, but they are little used; they also have Copper coin like that in Portugal, 5 and 10 rey peices, two of the latter are worth 3 halfpence, 40 petacks are worth 36 shillings.</p>
          <p>The harbour of Rio de Janeiro is certainly a very good one: the Entrance is not wide but the Sea breeze which blows every morning makes it easy for any ship to go in before the wind, and when you get abreast the town it increases in breadth prodigiously so that almost any number of ships might lay in 5 or 6 fathom water oozey bottom. It is defended by many works, especialy the entrance where it is narrow, there is their strongest fortification calld S<hi rend="sup">ta</hi> Cruz and another opposite it; there is also a platform mounting about 22 gunns without that just under the Sugar Loaf on the sea side, but that seems intirely calculated to hinder the Landing of an Enemy in a sandy bay from whence there is a passage to the back part of the town, which is intirely void of Defence except that the whole town is open to the Gunns of the Citadel S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Sebastian as I said before. Between S<hi rend="sup">ta</hi> Cruz and the town are
						<pb xml:id="n251" n="204"/>
						several small batteries of 5 to 10 gunns and one pretty large one calld Berga Leon. Immediately before the town is Ilhoa dos Cobras, an Island fortified all round, which seems incapable of doing much mischeif from its immense size, at least it would take more men to defend it even tolerably in case of an attack than could Possibly be spard from a town totaly without Lines or any defence round itself. As for S<hi rend="sup">ta</hi> Cruz, their cheif fortification on which they most rely seems very incaple of making any great resistance if smartly attackd by shipping: it is a stone fort which mounts many gunns indeed, but they lie tier above tier and are consequently very open to the atack of a ship which may come within 2 cable lengh's or less of them. Besides they have no supply of water there but what they have from a cistern in which they catch rain, or in times of Drouth are supplyd from the adjacent countrey; this they have been obligd to build above ground Least the water should taint by the heat of the climate, which a free access of air prevents; a shot consequently which fortunately should break that cistern would reduce the defenders to the utmost nescessity.</p>
          <p>I was told by a person who certainly knew and I beleive meant to inform me right, that a little to the southward just without the South head of the harbour was a bay in which boats might land with all facility without an obstruction, as there is no kind of work there, and from this bay it is not above three hours march to the town, which you aproach on the Back part where it is as defenceless as the Landing place; but this seems incredible yet I am inclind to beleive it of these people whose cheif policy consists in hindering people from looking about them as much as possible. It may therefore be as my informer said that the existence of such a bay is but lately found out, indeed was it not for that policy I could beleive any thing of their stupidity and ignorance, when the Governor of the town Brigadier General Don Pedro de Mendoza y Furtado ask'd the Captain of our ship whether the transit of Venus which we were going to observe was not the passing of the North star to the South pole, which he said he always understood it to be.<note xml:id="fn1-204" n="1"><p>Banks has the name of the governor wrong: it should be (in full) <name type="person" key="name-402243">Antonio Carlos Vicente Xavier Furtado de Castro do Rio e Mendonça</name>; in 1767 he was appointed a colonel of the Regiment of Elvas stationed at Rio de Janeiro. The peculiar idea of the Transit of Venus also appears to be wrongly fathered on him. Cook attributes this to the Viceroy in his conversation of 14 November, and Cook is much more likely to be right than Banks: ‘he could form no other idea of that Phenomenon (after I had explained it to him) than the North Star passing thro the South Pole (these were his own words)’. Cook does not seem to have had any contact with the governor. But Banks in his letter to Lord Morton, 1 December 1768, also attributes the remark to the Viceroy (see II, p. 315 below).</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n252" n="205"/>
          <p>The river and indeed the whole coast abounds with greater variety of Fish than I have ever seen;<note xml:id="fn1-205" n="1"><p>There are twenty-two paintings and drawings of Brazilian fishes in the Parkinson collection; a list of these will be published in the fourth volume of the edition of Cook's voyages now in preparation by the <name key="name-134486" type="organisation">Hakluyt Society</name>.</p></note> seldom a day passd in which we had not one or more new species brought to us, indeed the bay is the most convenient place for fishing I have ever seen for it abounds with Islands between which there is shallow water and proper beaches for drawing the Seine. The sea also without the bay is full of Dolphins and large mackrell of several sorts who very readily bite at hooks which the inhabitants tow after their boats for that purpose, in short the Countrey is Capable with a very little industry of producing infinite plenty both of nesscessaries and luxuries: was it in the hands of Englishmen we should soon see its consequence, as things are tolerably plentifull even under the direction of the Portugese, who I take to be without exception the laziest as well as the most ignorant race in the whole world.</p>
          <p>The Climate here is I fancy very good, the Countrey certainly is very wholesome, during our whole stay the Thermometer was never above 83. We had however a good deal of Rain and once it blew very hard. I am rather inclind to think that this countrey has rather more rain than those in the same northern Latitude are observd to have, not only from what happend during our short stay but from Marcgrave who gives us metereological observations on this Climate for 3 years: you may observe that it raind here in those years almost every other Day throughout the year, but more especialy in May and June in which months it raind along without Ceasing.</p>
          <p>8. This morn at day break a dolphin was taken and soon after a shark appeard who took the bait very readily, and during the time that we were playing him under the cabbin window it cast something out of his mouth that either was or appeard very like its stomack, this it threw out and drew in again many times. I have often heard from seamen that they can do it but never before saw anything like it before.<note xml:id="fn2-205" n="2"><p><name type="person" key="name-401796">Dr D. L. Serventy</name> states (personal communication) that this symptom of extreme distress in sharks is well known to fishermen in Australasian waters.</p></note> (this circumstance which by mistake is attributed to this shark belongs to one taken the II<hi rend="sup">th</hi>).</p>
          <p>9. A very heavy swell last night and this morn: we Judge that it has blown very hard to the Southward and in this particular think ourselves obligd to the viceroy of <name key="name-120001" type="place">Brasil</name> who by his dilatoryness in supplying us kept us out of it, the swell however carried away
						<pb xml:id="n253" n="206"/>
						our fore top galant mast. The sea is today coulord with infin[it]e<note xml:id="fn1-206" n="1"><p>The MS reads <hi rend="i">infine</hi>, in which it is followed by P and S, but the emendation seems necessary.</p></note> small Particles the same as those seen Nov<hi rend="sup">r</hi> 7<hi rend="sup">th</hi> and laying like them in broad streaks.</p>
          <p>10. Today also we see large quantities of the same small particles.</p>
          <p>11. This morn took a shark who cast up his stomack when hookd or at least appears so to do, it proves to be a female and on being opend 6 young ones were taken out of her, five of which were alive and swam briskly in a tub of water, the 6<hi rend="sup">th</hi> was dead and seemd to have been so for some time.</p>
          <p>12. Wind fair today, no events.</p>
          <p>13. Fair wind today likewise, at night a squall with thunder and lightning which made us hoist the Lightning chain.</p>
          <p>14. Wind Foul, blew fresh all day, in the evening saw a sail standing to the northward.</p>
          <p>15. Less wind but a great swell.</p>
          <p>16. Wind fair.</p>
          <p>17. Wind foul, blew rather fresh, so the ship heeld much which made our affairs go on rather uncomfortably.</p>
          <p>18. Calm at night, wind to the northward; we began to feel ourselves rather cool tho the thermometer was at 76 and shut two of the Cabbin windows, all which have been open ever since we left Madeira.</p>
          <p>19. Charming fair wind and fine weather; the people were employd in preparing a new suit of sails for the bad weather we are to expect. Therm 70.</p>
          <p>20. Fair wind today and rather warmer than it has been. During the course of last night we had a very heavy squall which tho it did not last above 10 minutes yet in that time blew as hard as it has done since we have been on board the ship.</p>
          <p>21. Foul wind and little of it.</p>
          <p>22. This morn quite calm. A very large shoal of Porpoises came close to the ship, they were of a kind different from any I have seen but so large that I dared not throw the gig into any of them, some were 4 yards long, their heads quite round but their hinder parts compressd, they had one fin upon their backs like a porpoise and white lines over their eyes also a spot of white behind the fin;<note xml:id="fn2-206" n="2"><p>These were <hi rend="i">Globicepala edwardii</hi> (Smith), the Southern Pilot Whale.</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n254" n="207"/>
						they stayd above ½ an hour about the ship. When they were gone D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself went out in the boat and shot one species of Mother Careys chickens and two shearwaters, both provd new, <hi rend="i">Procellaria Gigantea</hi> and <hi rend="i">sandaliata.</hi><note xml:id="fn1-207" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Procellaria gigantea</hi>, now the Giant Petrel, <hi rend="i">Macronectes giganteus</hi> (Gm.). Parkinson I, pls. 17, 18; Solander, pp. 73, 75. <hi rend="i">Procellaria sandaliata</hi>: currently <hi rend="i">Pterodroma incerta</hi> (Schlegel), Schlegel's Petrel. Parkinson I, pI. 20, Solander, p. 89.</p></note> The Carey was one but ill describd by Linnæus, <hi rend="i">Procellaria fregata.</hi><note xml:id="fn2-207" n="2"><p>The White-bellied Storm Petrel, <hi rend="i">Fregetta grallaria</hi> (Vieill.). Parkinson I, pl. 14. Only the first part of Solander's note (p. 51) on <hi rend="i">P. fregata</hi> applies to <hi rend="i">F. grallaria;</hi> the rest concerns <hi rend="i">Fregetta tropica</hi> (Gould), the Black-bellied Storm Petrel.</p></note> While we were out the people were employed in bending the new set of sails for <name key="name-200921" type="place">Cape Horn</name>.</p>
          <p>23. This morn calm again: went out shooting, killd another new procellaria, <hi rend="i">æquorea</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-207" n="3"><p>The White-faced Storm Petrel, <hi rend="i">Pelagodroma marina</hi> (Lath.). Latham actually described the species from Parkinson's drawing, I, pl. 13, which is therefore the type (<hi rend="i">General Synopsis of Birds</hi> 1785, p. 410, <hi rend="i">Index Ornithologicus</hi> 1790, p. 826). See also Solander, p. 57. Wilson's Petrel was also taken on this day.</p></note> and many of the sorts we had seen yesterday; caught <hi rend="i">Holothuria angustata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn4-207" n="4"><p>The Portuguese Man-of-war. Cf. 7 October 1768. This particular specimen was the subject of several pencil studies by Parkinson, and one painting, III, pls. 39, 40.</p></note> a species of floating helix much smaller than those under the line,<note xml:id="fn5-207" n="5"><p>This helix is unidentifiable.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Phyllodoce velella</hi> very small, sometimes not so large as a silver penny ye. I beleive the common species;<note xml:id="fn6-207" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Velella velella.</hi> See 7 October above.</p></note> in the evening went out again, killd an albatross <hi rend="i">Diomedéa exulans</hi>, who measurd 9 f<hi rend="sup">t</hi> I <hi rend="sup">inch</hi> between the tipps of his wings,<note xml:id="fn7-207" n="7"><p>The Wandering Albatross. Parkinson's dated painting (I, pl, 25) shows that this bird was apparently in second-year plumage; this is confirmed by Solander's account, p. 3. (Cf. Fleming's fig. 2, D, C, <hi rend="i">Emu</hi>, 49, 1950, p. 174).</p></note> and struck one turtle <hi rend="i">testudo caretta.</hi><note xml:id="fn8-207" n="8"><p>There is a description by Solander, p. 127, and dated drawings by Parkinson, I, pls. 41–3, of this loggerhead. These suggest that it was probably not <hi rend="i">Caretta caretta</hi> (Linn.) but more probably <hi rend="i">Lepidochelys kempi</hi> (Garman). The figures show four infra-marginal plates, a number which is normal in <hi rend="i">Lepidochelys</hi> but unusual in the other loggerhead genus <hi rend="i">Caretta</hi>; the description of the colour, ‘Testa nigrofusca, absque ullis maculis…’ is also more compatible with the former, which is dark grey to olive green, whereas <hi rend="i">Caretta</hi> is reddish brown.</p></note></p>
          <p>24. Fair wind and steady tho but little of it.</p>
          <p>25. Christmas day; all good Christians that is to say all hands get abominably drunk so that at night there was scarce a sober man in the ship, wind thank god very moderate or the lord knows what would have become of us.<note xml:id="fn9-207" n="9"><p>Cook puts it more mildly: ‘Yesterday being Christmas day the People, [i.e. the crew] were none of the Soberest’. Cook I, p. 37.</p></note></p>
          <p>26. Blows fresh today. A vast many birds are about the ship cheifly procellarias, all that we shot last week and one more who is quite
						<pb xml:id="n255" n="208"/>
						Black without spot or speck that can be seen as he flies<note xml:id="fn1-208" n="1"><p>Either the Cape Hen, <hi rend="i">Procellaria aequinoctialis</hi>, or the Sooty Shearwater, <hi rend="i">Puffinus griseus</hi> (Gm.). The former species constantly follows ships in the southern hemisphere, but Sooty Shearwaters are indifferent to them. The Cape Hen is particularly abundant in the vicinity of the <name key="name-170606" type="place">Cape of Good Hope</name>—hence its popular name.</p></note> Towards even many beds of seaweed came past the ship which the seamen call rockweed, but none near enough to the ship for us to catch them tho we were constantly prepard.</p>
          <p>27. Blows strong this evning, at night came to under a balancd mizzen<note xml:id="fn2-208" n="2"><p>A balanced mixen was a mixen sail reduced to as small an area as possible by a reefband that crossed it diagonally, so that the ship was put under the minimum sail to hold her steady when brought to. But Banks may have been too technical: Cook merely says ‘At 8 pm it blew a Storm of wind with rain which brought us under our Main sail with her head to the westward’.—Cook I, p. 37.</p></note> till day light when it grows more moderate. The water has been discoulerd all day 50 fathom. All this day I have smelt a singular smell from windward tho the people in the ship did not take notice of it, it was like rotten seaweed and at some times very strong.</p>
          <p>During the whole of this gale we had many procellarias about the ship, at some times immense numbers, who seemd perfectly unconcernd at the badness of the weather or the hight of the sea but continued often flapping near the surface of the water as if fishing.</p>
          <p>28. Less wind, the sea soon falls; the water both yesterday and today has been a good deal discolourd. Sound and find 48 fathom.</p>
          <p>29. Fair wind, water very white, sounded 46 fathom, about 4 in the Even 44. We observd now some feathers and peices of reed to float by the hip which made us get up the hoave net to see what they were; soon after some drowned Carabi<note xml:id="fn3-208" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Carabus</hi>, a genus of beetles.</p></note> and Phalænæ<note xml:id="fn4-208" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Phalaena</hi>: a name used by Linnaeus to include many different kinds of moths.</p></note> came past which we took and employd the hoave till dark night taking many specimens. Lat. 41:48. This morn a large sphinx came off probably from the land and was taken.</p>
          <p>30. This morn fine weather, water whiter than ever almost of a clay colour; sounded 47 fathom. Plenty of insects passd by this morn, many especialy of the carabi, alive, some grylli<note xml:id="fn5-208" n="5"><p>Linnaeus used <hi rend="i">Gryllus</hi> for a variety of orthopterous insects.</p></note> and one Phalæna. I stayd in the main chains from 8 till 12 dipping for them with the hoave and took vast numbers. In the evening Many Phalenæ and two papilios<note xml:id="fn6-208" n="6"><p>Linnaeus placed all the butterflies known to him in the genus <hi rend="i">Papilio.</hi></p></note> came flying about the ship, of the first took about 20 but the last would not come near enough to be taken and at last flew away; they appeard Large. We have
						<pb xml:id="n256" n="209"/>
						also both yesterday and today taken several Ichneumons<note xml:id="fn1-209" n="1"><p>These ichneumons do not appear to have been sketched by Parkinson, nor does there appear to be any specific reference to them in Morley's paper on the Banksian Ichneumonidae (<hi rend="i">The Entomologist</hi>, 42, 1909, pp. 131–7).—‘For several evenings, swarms of butterflies, moths, and other insects, flew about the rigging, which we apprehended had been blown to us from the shore. Thousands of them settled upon the vessel; Mr. Banks ordered the men to gather them up; and, after selecting such as he thought proper, the rest were thrown overboard; and he gave the men some bottles of rum for their trouble.’—Parkinson, <hi rend="i">Journal</hi>, p. 6.</p></note> flying about the rigging. All the seamen say that we cannot be less than 20 leagues from the land,<note xml:id="fn2-209" n="2"><p>Cook: ‘yet at this time we could not be less than 30 Leagues from land’.—p. 38. His position for November 30 puts him roughly 150 miles east of the Valdés Peninsula, the nearest land</p></note> but I doubt Grylli especialy coming so far alive as they must float all the way upon the water. They ground their opinion cheifly on the sounding[s] which have been all along sand of different colours, which had we been nearer the land would have been intermixd with shells; their experience on this coast must however be but slight.</p>
          <p>This whole day the evening especialy has been a series of calms and squalls, towards night a thunderstorm in which the lightning was remarkably bright, and rangd in long streaks sometimes horizontal and sometimes perpendicular, the thunder was not loud but continued an immence while with a noise in some claps so like the flapping of sails that had I not been upon dcek I should not have beleivd it to be thunder. Just before the storm we had an appearance of land to the westward which all who had not been in these latitudes before imagind to be real; it made like a long extent of lowish land and two Islands to the Northward of it, the South end was buried in the clouds; this lasted about £½ an hour and then rose gradualy up and disapeard.</p>
          <p>Lat. 42:31. A sea lion was enterd in the log book of today as being seen but I did not see him.<note xml:id="fn3-209" n="3"><p>Probably the Southern Sea Lion, <hi rend="i">Otaria byronia</hi> (Blainville).</p></note> I saw however a whale coverd with barnacles as the seamen told me, he appeard of a reddish colour<note xml:id="fn4-209" n="4"><p>The whale is unidentifiable: its red colour would be caused not by barnacles but by lice, <hi rend="i">Cyamidae.</hi></p></note> except his tail which was black like those to the Northward.</p>
          <p>31. No insects seen today; the water changd to a little better colour. On looking over those taken yesterday find 31 species of land insects all so like in size and shape to those of England &amp;c. that they are scarcely distinguishable, probably some will turn out identicaly the same. We ran among them 160 miles by the log without reckoning any part of last night, tho they were seen till dark, and most of this southing. Our latitude made us nearly opposite Baye Sans Fond near which place Mr Dalrymple supposes
						<pb xml:id="n257" n="210"/>
						there to be a passage quite through the Continent of America.<note xml:id="fn1-210" n="1"><p>The bay seems to be the ‘Baye Sinfondo’ of the French charts, on the South Atlantic coast of America, c. 42° S. The name <hi rend="i">baia sin fondo</hi> was given to the Gulf of San Mathias either by Magellan or Loaysa, but whether because it could not be sounded or because its limits could not be seen we do not know. Dalrymple, both on his ‘Chart of the South Pacifick Ocean’ (1767) and his ‘Chart of the Ocean between S. America and Africa’ (1769) simply continued the bay through America as a strait emerging on the Pacific ocean opposite Chiloe island. I know of no printed reference by him apart from this.</p></note> It should seem by what we have seen that there should be at least a very large river, and that probably at this time much flooded: if even that could have so great an effect as (supposing us to be 20 leagues from the land) discolouring the water to almost a clay Colour and bringing of insects who never fly 20 yards such as grylli and one aranea.<note xml:id="fn2-210" n="2"><p>A spider; no painting or description of it is known.</p></note></p>
          <p>I lament much not having tasted the water at the time which never occurrd to me, but probably the difference of saltness would have been hardly perceptible to the taste and my Hydrostatick balance being broke I had no other method of trying it.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d6" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">January</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. New years day today made us pass many Comp<hi rend="sup">ts</hi> and talk much of our hopes for success in the year 69. Many whales were about the ship today and much sea weed in large lumps but none near enough to be caught.</p>
          <p>In the Evening rather squally; the true sea green colour upon the surface of the water was often to be seen now between the squalls, or rather under the black clouds when they were about half a mile from the ship. I had often heard of it before but never seen it in any such perfection, indeed most of the seamen said the same, it was very bright and perfectly like the stone calld aquamarine.</p>
          <p>2. Fresh breezes today. In the Evening, Lat. about 45:30, met with some small shoals of the red lobsters which have been seen by almost every one who has pass'd these seas. They were however so far from couloring the sea red as Dampier and Cowley say that I may affirm that we never saw more than a few hundreds of them at a time, we took however several in the Casting and hoave netts and describd them by the name of <hi rend="i">Cancer Gregarius.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-210" n="3"><p>They were Lobster Krill, <hi rend="i">Munida gregaria</hi> (Fabr.). Parkinson has a drawing, III, pl. 9. There is some conflict of testimony as to how many were seen. Wilkinson the master's mate says ‘a great Quantity’. Bootie the midshipman, perhaps talking in the tradition, says ‘a great Quantity of red shrimps insomuch that you could not tell the Colour of the water they was so thick’. Hicks refers to shoals. Cook merely says ‘saw some Whales and Porposes, and small red Crawfish some of which we caught’. Dampler's reference is in his <hi rend="i">New Voyage round the World (Voyages</hi>, ed. Masefield, I, p. 109): ‘great shoals of small Lobsters, which coloured the Sea red in spots, for a mile in compass….’ <name type="person" key="name-401760">Captain Ambrose Cowley</name>, the buccaneer and colleague of Dampier, in the abstract of his journal printed by <name type="person" key="name-401780">Captain William Hacke</name>, <hi rend="i">A Collection of Original Voyages</hi> (1699), p. 5, writes, ‘steer'd away [from the coast of Brazil] S.W. finding the Sea as red as Blood about the lat. of 40 deg. South, which was occasioned by great Shoals of Shrimps, which lay upon the water in great patches for many Leagues together’. See pl. <hi rend="i">1a.</hi></p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n258" n="211"/>
          <p>3. Lat: 47:17, all hands looking out for Pepys's Island;<note xml:id="fn1-211" n="1"><p>Pepys Island was the name given by <name type="person" key="name-401780">Captain William Hacke</name>, the editor of Cowley's journal, to land sighted by Cowley in January 1684. Hacke placed it on his chart too far north. Both Cowley and Dampier agreed that what had been sighted was one of the Falkland Islands, but the separate identity bestowed by Hacke held the field—or the chart—for many years. One of the objects of Byron's voyage in 1764 was specifically to verify and identify Pepys Island. For further discussion, see General Introduction to Cook I, pp. lxxi, ltxxxvi.</p></note> about observing time<note xml:id="fn2-211" n="2"><p>i.e. noon, the time for determining by observation the position of the ship.</p></note> an appearance was seen to the westward so like an Island that we bear away after it almost assurd that it is Land as the midshipman at the mast head declard; for half an hour, which time he had steadily lookd at it, it did not alter its appearance at all, however about 4 we were convincd that we were in chace of Cape fly away as the seamen call it, no signs of Island or anything else appearing where it ought to have been.</p>
          <p>This Evening many large bunches of sea weed came by the ship; we caught some of it with hooks, it was of an immense size every leaf 4 feet long and the stalk about twelve, the footstalk of each leaf was swelld into a long air vessel. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore tells me that he has seen this weed grow quite to the top of the water in 12 fathom, if so the swelld footstalks are probably the trumpet grass or weed of the <name key="name-170606" type="place">Cape of Good Hope</name>; we describd it however as it appeard and calld it <hi rend="i">Focus Giganteus.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-211" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Macrocystis pyrifera</hi> (L.) Ag. &lt;JDH&gt; or less likely, <hi rend="i">Lessonia flavicans</hi> Bory.</p></note> Here were also this Evening large quantities of a small bird somewhat like Mother Careys chickens but rather larger and grey on the back,<note xml:id="fn4-211" n="4"><p>Probably some kind of prion, <hi rend="i">Pachyptila</hi> sp.</p></note> and plenty of Albatrosses indeed we have seen more or less of them every day for some time.</p>
          <p>4. Blew fresh today and night: the officer of the watch told me that in the night the sea was very much illuminated in patches of many Yards wide which appeard of a pale light colour.</p>
          <p>5. Fair wind: the sea very light at night more so than ever I had seen it, so that the ships course and every curl of a wave was of a light colour, but none of the light patches seen last night were now observd, which were cheifly remarkable as the animals there must have shone without being agitated. In some of the water taken up observd a small insect of a conical figure, very nimble, who movd himself with a kind of whorl of legs or tentacula round
						<pb xml:id="n259" n="212"/>
						the base of the cone; we could not find any nereides or indeed any other insect than this in the water but were not able to prove that he causes the light so deferrd our observations on him till the morning.<note xml:id="fn1-212" n="1"><p>Banks's description could apply to <hi rend="i">Noctiluca</hi>, one of the largest of the Protozoa, which occurs at times in countless numbers and is the cause of many of the startling displays of phosphorescence familiar to voyagers. <hi rend="i">Nereides:</hi> polychaete worms.</p></note></p>
          <p>6. Blew fresh foul wind, forcd to throw away the insects taken last night from the ship having so much motion. The Southeast wind now became very cold, to us at least so lately come from the Torrid Zone. Therm at noon 48. All hands bend their Magellan Jackets (made of a thick woolen stuff allowd them by the goverment calld fearnought) and myself put on flannel Jacket and waistcoat and thick trousers. In the Evening blew strong, at night a hard gale, ship brought too under a mainsail; during the course of this my Bureau was overset and most of the books were about the Cabbin floor, so that with the noise of the ship working, the books &amp;c. running about, and the strokes our cotts or swinging beds gave against the top and sides of the Cabbin we spent a very disagreable night. We this morn expected to have made <name key="name-200836" type="place">Falklands Islands</name> where we intended to put in for a small time,<note xml:id="fn2-212" n="2"><p>Cook does not mention this intention, and he passed well to the west of the Falklands. His instructions had left him free to call at Port Egmont, the English settlement in these islands, or somewhere on the coast of Brazil, or at both places, for refreshment, but, as he records, he had chosen Rio de Janeiro because of the certainty of finding supplies there, and had abandoned thoughts of Port Egmont. If he had wished to call at the Falklands he would have had no difficulty in finding them. We shall more than once see evidence of a conflict in purpose between Cook, who naturally put first his instructions as commander of a voyage with a specific scientific purpose, and afterwards of geographical discovery, and Banks, who would have liked to get off the ship everywhere in pursuit of objects of natural history.</p></note> so the missing of them which we much fear was a great disapointment to me, as I fear I shall not now have a single oppertunity of observing the produce of this part of the world.</p>
          <p>7. Blew strong, yet the ship still Laying too, now for the first time saw some of the Birds calld Penguins by the southern navigators; they seem much of the size and not unlike <hi rend="i">alca pica</hi><note xml:id="fn3-212" n="3"><p>A synonym for the Razorbill, <hi rend="i">Alca torda.</hi></p></note> but are easily known by streaks upon their faces and their remarkably shrill cry different from any sea bird I am acquainted with.<note xml:id="fn4-212" n="4"><p>A number of penguins have ‘streaks upon their faces’. The most likely candidate in these seas would be <hi rend="i">Spheniscus magellanicus</hi>, with the broad white semicircular stripe upon the side of its head and its bray like that of a ‘ackass; but identification cannot safely be made.</p></note> We saw also several seals but much smaller than those which I have seen in Newfoundland and black, they generaly appeard in lively action
						<pb xml:id="n260" n="213"/>
						leaping out of the water like porpoises, so much so that some of our people were deceivd by them mistaking them for fish.<note xml:id="fn1-213" n="1"><p>They were probably the Southern Fur Seal, <hi rend="i">Arctocephalus australis</hi> (Zimmermann).</p></note></p>
          <p>About noon weather much more moderate; set the lower sails; before night sea quite down tho the wind still stood at south east. The sea rises and falls quicker in these latitudes than it does about England, which we have observd Ever since we came into variable winds way to the South of the tropicks. During this whole gale we observed vast plenty of birds about us, Procellarias of all the kinds we have before mentiond, the grey ones of the 3<hi rend="sup">d</hi> of this month and a kind? all black, <hi rend="i">procell. aquinoctialis?</hi> Linn.<note xml:id="fn2-213" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Procellaria aequinoctialis</hi> was the Cape Hen. See 26 December 1768. These might equally well have been Sooty Shearwaters, <hi rend="i">Puffinus griseus</hi> (Gm.).</p></note> but could not discern whether or not their beaks were yellow, and plenty of Albatrosses; indeed I have generaly observd a much greater quantity of birds upon wing in gales of wind than in moderate weather, owing perhaps to the tossing of the waves which must render swimming very uneasy; in this situation they must be oftener seen than when they set on the water.</p>
          <p>The ship during this gale has shewn her excellence in laying too remarkably well, shipping scarce any water tho it blew at times vastly strong; the seamen in general say that they never knew a ship lay too so well as this does, so lively and at the same time so easy.</p>
          <p>8. Smooth water and fair wind: many Seals and Penguins about the ship, the latter leaping out of the water and diving instantly so that a person unusd to them might easily be deceivd and take them for fish; plenty also of Albatrosses and whales blowing very near the ship. We were now too sure that we had missd <name key="name-200836" type="place">Fauklands Islands</name> and probably were to the Westward of them.</p>
          <p>The ship has been observd to go much better since her shaking in the last gale of wind, the seamen say that it is a general observation that ships go better for being what they call Loosnen in their Joints, so much so that in chase it is often customary to knock down Stantions &amp;c. and make the ship as loose as possible.</p>
          <p>9. Clouds to the westward appear so like land this morn that even our first Lieutenant who prided himself on His judgement in this particular was deceivd. Wind vereable and calmer, many seals and some Albatrosses but none of those whitish birds which we saw in the gale of wind.</p>
          <p>10. Fine weather: Seals plentifully today and a kind of birds different from any we have before seen, they were black and a
						<pb xml:id="n261" n="214"/>
						little larger than pidgeons, plump like them and easily known by their flapping their wings quick as they fly contrary to the custom of sea birds in general.<note xml:id="fn1-214" n="1"><p>Diving Petrels, which have a rapid flight. Two species occur here, <hi rend="i">Pelecanoides magellani</hi> (Matthew) and <hi rend="i">P. urinatrix</hi> (Gm.).</p></note> This evening a shoal of Porpoises swam by the ship different from any I have seen, spotted with large dabbs of white and white under the belly, in other respects as swimming &amp;c. like common porpoises only they leap rather more nimbly, sometimes lifting their whole bodys out of the water.<note xml:id="fn2-214" n="2"><p>Probably Commerson's Dolphin, <hi rend="i">Cephalorhynchus commersoni</hi> (Lacépède). It has the alternative common names of Piebald Porpoise and Le Jacobite, which last was Commerson's own name for it.</p></note></p>
          <p>11. This morn at day break saw the land of <name key="name-402321" type="place">Terra del Fuego</name>, by 8 O'Clock we were well in with it, the weather exceedingly moderate. Its appearance was not near so barren as the writer of L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Ansons voyage has represented it, the weather exceedingly moderate so we stood along shore about 2 Leagues off, we could see trees distinctly through our glasses and observe several smokes made probably by the natives as a signal to us. The captain now resolved to put in here if he can find a conv[en]ient harbour and give us an opportunity of searching a countrey so intirely new.</p>
          <p>The hills within land seemd to be high and on them were many patches of snow, but the sea coast appeard fertile especialy the trees of a bright verdure, except in places exposd to SW wind which were distinguishable by their brown appearance; the shore itself sometimes beach and sometimes rock. At 4 in the evening wind came on shore so stood off.</p>
          <p>12. This morn make the land again soon after which it dropd calm, in which time we took <hi rend="i">Beroe incrassata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-214" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Beroe incrassata</hi>: Parkinson's plate, III, 59, of this date, bears this name and appears to represent <hi rend="i">Beroe ovata</hi> Chamisso and Eysenhardt. Solander, p. 437, noted its occurrence in October 1769, when they were approaching New Zealand from the east.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Medusa limpidissima</hi><note xml:id="fn4-214" n="4"><p>Possibly an <hi rend="i">Aglaura</hi> sp. See Parkinson III, pl. 51; Solander, p. 463.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">plicata</hi><note xml:id="fn5-214" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">Medusa plicata</hi>: the animal with this name in Parkinson III, pl. 47, is too worn to be identifiable, and Solander's description, p. 453, is of the same specimen.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">obliquata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn6-214" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Medusa obliquata</hi>: unidentifiable; Parkinson III, p. 52, Solander, p. 465.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Alcyonium anguillare</hi>, probably the thing that Shelvocke mentions in his Voyage round the world page 60, <hi rend="i">Alcyonium frustrum.</hi><note xml:id="fn7-214" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Alcyonium</hi>: neither of the species mentioned can be identified either from the drawing by Parkinson, III, pl. 74, of <hi rend="i">A. anguillare</hi>, or from the descriptions by Solander, pp. 477, 479. <name type="person" key="name-401853">George Shelvocke</name> (fl. 1690–1728), a privateer, commanded a fraudulent and semi-piratical but exciting voyage from England to Formosa, and wrote a not very honest book about it, <hi rend="i">A Voyage round the World, by the Way of the Great South Sea, performed in the years 1719, 20, 21, 22.</hi> … (London 1726). The book enjoyed some fame, and not only Banks, but Coleridge, found it useful: Shelvocke's account of the killing of an albatross provided the seed of the <hi rend="i">Ancient Mariner.</hi> The thing that he mentions on page 60, he mentions thus: sailing south beyond the River Plate, 'we had on the surface of the water abundance of things appearing like white snakes. We took some of them up, but cou'd not perceive there was any life in them, nor were they form'd into any shape resembling any kind of animal, they being only a long cylinder of a white sort of a jelly, and may probably be the spawn of some of the larger sort of fish’.</p></note> After dinner a small breeze sprung up and to
						<pb xml:id="n262" n="215"/>
						our great Joy we discoverd an opening into the land and stood in for it in great hopes of finding a harbour; however after having ran within a mile of the shore were obliged to stand off again as there was no appearance of shelter and the wind was on shore.<note xml:id="fn1-215" n="1"><p>The ship was near the entrance to the Strait of le Maire, through which Cook intended to pass.</p></note></p>
          <p>When we were nearest in we could plainly discover with our glasses spots in which the colour of white and yellow were predominant which we judg'd to be flowers, the white were in large clusters almost every where, the yellow in small spots or patches on the side of a hill coverd with a beautifull verdure;<note xml:id="fn2-215" n="2"><p>‘The trees all belong to one kind, the Fagus betuloides; for the number of the other species of Fagus and of the Winter's Bark, is quite inconsiderable. This beech keeps its leaves throughout the year; but its foliage is of a peculiar brownish-green colour, with a tinge of yellow. As the whole landscape is thus coloured, it has a sombre, dull appearance; nor is it often enlivened by the rays of the sun.’—Darwin, <hi rend="i">Naturalist's Voyage round the World</hi> (ed. 1888), p. 210. It is possible that Banks's yellow colour was thus accounted for. But see also p. 226, n. 2 below, on the fungus of <hi rend="i">Nothofagus antarctica.</hi></p></note> the trees could now be distinguishd very plainly and seemd to be 30 or 40 feet high with flat bushy tops, their trunks in many places were bare and resembled rocks a good deal till the glasse; cleard up the deception.</p>
          <p>Among the things taken today observd <hi rend="i">ulva intestinalis</hi><note xml:id="fn3-215" n="3"><p>This name may refer to <hi rend="i">Enteromorpha intestinalis</hi> (L.), ‘since it is more or less cosmopolitan in temperate and cold seas’ (W. R. Taylor).</p></note> and <hi rend="i">corrallina officin[alis</hi>].<note xml:id="fn4-215" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Corallina officinalis</hi> (L.) may be accepted with a query. Both <hi rend="i">Corallina officinalis</hi> and <hi rend="i">C. chilensis</hi> occur in the area, and though abundantly distinct, early travellers would not distinguish between them; cf. L. Gain, <hi rend="i">La Flore algologique</hi> … <hi rend="i">Deux. Expid. Antarct. Francaise (1908–1910) commandoes par le Dr. Jean Charcot</hi> (Paris, 1912).</p></note> The wind very vereable all day, at nine this even the Three Brothers and Sugar Loaf<note xml:id="fn5-215" n="5"><p>Prominent landscape features on the coast of Tierra del Fuego. The Three Brothers have still the same name—Tres Hermanos; the Sugar Loaf seems to have been the remarkable table-topped hill called Meseta de Orozco.</p></note> were in sight and we stood gently along shore in hopes to be at the streights mouth by the Morning.</p>
          <p>About 6 this even the gentlemen upon deck observd the Sugar Loaf coverd with a cloud for a short time which left it intirely white, they judgd it to have been a fall of snow upon the hill but as I did not myself see it I cannot give my opinion.</p>
          <p>13. This morn at day break we were at the streights mouth and stood in a little way, but the tide turning against us soon set us out again; at ½ past 8 tide again turnd in our favour but soon after wind came foul so were forcd to turn to windward; the wind soon
						<pb xml:id="n263" n="216"/>
						freshning made us pitch most violently, so much that our Gib netting<note xml:id="fn1-216" n="1"><p>The netting stretched as a safety measure under the jib-boom, the spar run out from the bowsprit, to which the lower corner, or foot, of the jib was secured.</p></note> was quite under water. At 12 today Lat: 54:42. Staten land is much more craggy than Terra del Fuego tho the view of it in L<hi rend="sup">d</hi> Ansons Voyage is exaggerated. About 4 it blew very hard and the tide turning against us quickly drove us out of the streights the second time. At night less wind tho still South West, stood into the Streights the third time and had another violent pitching bout, the tide turnd against us before we are half through so in the morning</p>
          <p>14. we found ourselves the third time drove out, wind SSW, Short sea and ship pitching most violently. The Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> stood into a bay just without Cape S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Vincent<note xml:id="fn2-216" n="2"><p>Which he called Vincent's Bay; now Thetis Bay.</p></note> and while the ship plyd off and on D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself went ashore in the boat and found many plants, about 100, tho we were not ashore above 4 hours; of these I may say every one was new and intirely different from what either of us had before seen. The countrey about this bay was in general flat, here is however good wood and water and vast plenty of fowl and in the cod<note xml:id="fn3-216" n="3"><p>The bottom extremity.</p></note> of the bay a flat coverd with grass where much hay might be made. The bay itself is bad affording but little shelter for shipping and in many Parts of it the bottom rocky and foul. This however may be always known in these Countreys by the beds of Fucus Giganteus which constantly grow upon the rock and are not seen on sand or owse; they are of an immence lengh, we sounded upon them and had 14 fathom water; as they seem to make a very acute angle with the bottom in their situation on the water it is difficult to guess how long they may be, but probably they are not less than one half longer than the depth of the water, which gives their lengh to be 126 feet, a wonderfull lengh for a stalk not thicker than a mans thumb.</p>
          <p>Among other things the bay affords there is plenty of winters bark,<note xml:id="fn4-216" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Drimys winteri</hi> Forst., named for Captain John Winter, who was with Drake in the Straits of Magellan in 1578, and there successfully used it to combat scurvy. The bark was first described by de l'Ecluse in 1582, and later by Dalechamps (1586) and Clusius (1605), etc., under the name <hi rend="i">Winteranus cortex.</hi> It was much valued as an antiscorbutic. Although extensively used in Europe for over two centuries it finds a place today only in local domestic medicine. <hi rend="i">Drimys</hi> is a primitive bihemispheric and presumably paleoantarctic genus, ‘only very remotely related to the Magnoliaceae proper’ (cf. <name type="person" key="name-401775">A. C. Smith</name>, <hi rend="i">Jour. Arnold Arbor.</hi> 26: 48–59. 1945). See Pl. <hi rend="i">27b.</hi></p></note> easy to be known by its broad leaf like a laurel of a light green colour and blueish underneath, the bark is easily stripd off with a bone or stick as ours are barkd in England; its virtues are so well known that I shall say little except that it may be us'd as
						<pb xml:id="n264" n="217"/>
						a spice even in culinary matters and is found to be very wholesome. Here is also plenty of wild celery <hi rend="i">apium antescorbuticum</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-217" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Apium prostratum</hi> Thouin &lt;JDH&gt;, as validated by a specimen bearing Solander's MS name. See pl. <hi rend="i">27a.</hi></p></note> scurvy grass <hi rend="i">cardamine antescorbutica</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-217" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Cardamine glacialis</hi> DC. ‘Scurvy grass’ was a loose term applied to many unrelated plants sharing antiscorbutic properties: <hi rend="i">Cardamine nasturtioides</hi>, as well as <hi rend="i">C. glacialis; Oxalis enneaphylla</hi> of the Falkland Islands; <hi rend="i">Amaranthus</hi> spp. <hi rend="i">Brassica juncea, Portulaca oleracea, Sesuvium portulacastrum</hi>, collectively called ‘verdura’ by the Spanish navigators, were all used in the Pacific Islands.</p></note> both which are as pleasant to the taste as any herbs of the kind found in Europe and I beleive possess as much virtue in curing the scurvy.</p>
          <p>The trees here are cheifly of one sort, a Kind of Birch <hi rend="i">Betula antarctica</hi><note xml:id="fn3-217" n="3"><p>Banks's ‘birch’, as determined by an examination of his coll., was <hi rend="i">Nothofagus antarctica</hi> (Forst.) Oerst., a southern hemisphere counterpart of the beech.</p></note> with very small leaves, it is a light white wood and cleaves very straight; sometimes the trees are 2 or 3 feet in diameter and run 30 or 40 feet in the bole; possibly they might in cases of nescessity supply topmasts. Here are also great plenty of cranberries both white and red, <hi rend="i">Arbutus rigida.</hi><note xml:id="fn4-217" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">Pernettya mucronata</hi> Gaud. &lt;JDH&gt; validated by a Banks collection. Pernety's original specimen, the basis of the illustration in his account of his voyage with Bougainville, <hi rend="i">Histoire d'un Voyage aux ties Malouines fait en 1763 &amp; 1764</hi> (Berlin 1770), was collected in the Falklands. Skottsberg, <hi rend="i">Wilds of Patagonia</hi> (London 1911), p. 56, remarks on the use of <hi rend="i">chaura</hi> (the native name) berries as emergency rations.</p></note> Inhabitants I saw none but found their hutts in two places, once in a thick wood and again close by the beach; they are most unartificialy made, Conical but open on one side where was marks of fire so that probably the fire servd them instead of a door.</p>
          <p>15. Stopd tide this morn in a bay on the Terra del Fuego side of the water, probably Prince Maurice's Bay, which servd our purpose very well; at 10 tide turnd and we stood out and by dinner came to an anchor in the Bay of Good Success. Several Indians were in sight near the Shore.</p>
          <p>After dinner went ashore on the starboard side of the bay near some rocks which make smooth water and good landing. Before we had walkd 100 yards many Indians made their appearance on the other side of the bay, at the End of a sandy beach which makes the bottom of the bay, but on seeing our numbers to be ten or twelve they retreated. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself then walkd forward 100 yards before the rest and two of the Indians advanc'd also and set themselves down about 50 yards from their companions. As soon as we came up they rose and each of them threw a stick he had in his hand away from him and us, a token no doubt of peace, they then walkd briskly towards the other party and wavd to us to follow, which we did and were receivd with many uncouth
						<pb xml:id="n265" n="218"/>
						signs of freindship. We distributed among them a number of Beads and ribbands which we had brought ashore for that purpose at which they seem'd mightily pleasd, so much so that when we embarkd again aboard our boat three of them came with us and went aboard the ship. Of these one seemd to be a Preist or conjuror or at least we thought him to be one by the noises he made, possibly exorcising every part of the ship he came into, for when any thing new caught his attention he shouted as loud as he could for some minutes without directing his speech either to us or to any one of his countreymen.</p>
          <p>They eat bread and beef which we gave them tho not heartily but carried the largest part away with them, they would not drink either wine or spirits but returnd the glass, tho not before they had put it to their mouths and tasted a drop; we conducted them through the greatest part of the ship and they lookd at every thing without any marks of extrordinary admiration, unless the noise which our conjurer did not fail to repeat at every new thing he saw might be reckond as such.</p>
          <p>After having been aboard about 2 hours they expressd a desire of going ashore and a boat was orderd to carry them. I went with them and landed them among their countreymen, but I can not say that I observd either the one party curious to ask questions or the other to relate what they had seen or what usage they had met with, so after having stayd ashore about ½ an hour I returnd to the ship and the Indians immediately marchd off from the shore.</p>
          <p>16. This morn very early D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself with our servants and two Seamen to assist in carrying baggage, accompanied by M<hi rend="sup">8rs</hi> Monkhouse and Green, set out from the ship to try to penetrate into the countrey as far as we could, and if possible gain the tops of the hills where alone we saw places not overgrown with trees.<note xml:id="fn1-218" n="1"><p>The next naturalist to come to the Bay of Good Success was <name key="name-121361" type="person">Darwin</name>, on the voyage of the <hi rend="i">Beagle</hi>, in December 1832. ‘One side of the harbour’, he writes, ‘is formed by a hill about 1500 feet high, which <name type="person" key="name-207961">Captain FitzRoy</name> has called after Sir J. Banks, in commemoration of his disastrous excursion, which proved fatal to two men of his party, and nearly so to Dr. Solander…. I was anxious to reach the summit of this mountain to collect alpine plants; for flowers of any kind in the lower parts are few in number. A ridge connected this hill with another, distant some miles, and more lofty, so that patches of snow were lying on it. As the day was not far advanced, I determined to walk there and collect plants along the road’,—<hi rend="i">Naturalist's Voyage</hi>, pp. 210–11. See also <name type="person" key="name-401993">Nora Barlow</name> (ed.), <hi rend="i">Charles Darwin's Diary of the Voyage of H. M.S. ‘Beagle’</hi> (Cambridge, 1933), pp. 122–3.</p></note> We began to enter the woods at a small sandy beach a little to the westward of the watering place and continued pressing through pathless thickets, always going up hill, till 3 o'Clock before
						<pb xml:id="n266" n="219"/>
						we gaind even a near view of the places we intended to go to. The weather had all this time been vastly fine much like a sunshiny day in May, so that neither heat nor cold was troublesome to us nor were there any insects to molest us, which made me think the traveling much better than what I had before met with in Newfoundland.</p>
          <p>Soon after we saw the plains we arrivd at them, but found to our great disapointment that what we took for swathe<note xml:id="fn1-219" n="1"><p>Banks is here using a bit of Lincolnshire dialect; ‘swathe’ in his native tongue meant to him a measure of grass-land in open pasture; or in this case it might have been his spelling of ‘swarth’—sward, the surface of the ground.—Wright's <hi rend="i">English Dialect Dictionary.</hi></p></note> was no better than low bushes of birch about reaching a mans middle; these were so stubborn that they could not be bent out of the way, but at every step the leg must be lifted over them and on being plac'd again on the ground was almost sure to sink above the anckles in bog.<note xml:id="fn2-219" n="2"><p>Cf. Darwin again: ‘We followed the same watercourse as on the previous day, till it dwindled away, and we were then compelled to crawl blindly among the trees. These, from the effects of the elevation and of the impetuous winds, were low, thick, and crooked. At length we reached that which from a distance appeared like a carpet of fine green turf, but which, to our vexation, turned out to be a compact mass of little beech-trees about four or five feet high. They were as thick together as box in the border of a garden, and we were obliged to struggle over the flat but treacherous surface’.—<hi rend="i">Naturalist's Voyage</hi>, p. 210.</p></note> No traveling could possibly be worse than this which seemd to last about a mile, beyond which we expected to meet with bare rock, for such we had seen from the tops of lower hills as we came: this I particularly was infinitely eager to arrive at expecting there to find the alpine plants of a countrey so curious. Our people tho rather fatigued were yet in good spirits so we pushd on intending to rest ourselves as soon as we should arrive at plain ground.</p>
          <p>We proceeded two thirds of the way without the least difficulty and I confess I thought for my own part that all difficulties were surmounted when M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan fell into a fit.<note xml:id="fn3-219" n="3"><p>Buchan was unfortunately for the expedition an epileptic.</p></note> A fire was immediately lit for him and with him all those who were most tird remaind behind, while D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse and myself advancd for the alp which we reachd almost immediately, and found according to expectation plants which answerd to those we had found before as alpine ones in Europe do to those which we find in the plains.</p>
          <p>The air was here very cold and we had frequent snow blasts. I had now intirely given over all thoughts of reaching the ship that night and though[t] of nothing but getting into the thick of the wood and making a fire, which as our road lay all down hill seemd very easy to accomplish, so M<hi rend="sup">srs</hi> Green and Monkhouse
						<pb xml:id="n267" n="220"/>
						returnd to the people and appointed a hill for our general rendevous from whence we should proceed and build our wigwam. The cold now increasd apace, it might be near 8 O'Clock tho yet exceedingly good daylight so we proceeded for the nearest valley, where the short Birch, the only thing we now dreaded, could not be ½ a mile over. Our people seemd well tho cold and M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan was stronger than we could have expected. I undertook to bring up the rear and se[e] that no one was left behind. We passd about half way very well when the cold seemd to have at once an effect infinitely beyond what I have ever experiencd. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander was the first who felt it, he said he could not go any fa[r]ther but must lay down, tho the ground was coverd with snow, and down he laid notwisthstanding all I could say to the contrary. Richmond a black Servant now began also to lag and was much in the same way as the d<hi rend="sup">r</hi>: at this Juncture I dispatchd 5 forwards of whom M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan was one to make ready a fire at the very first convenient place they could find, while myself with 4 more staid behind to persuade if possible the d<hi rend="sup">r</hi> and Richmond to come on. With much persuasion and intreaty we got through much the largest part of the Birch when they both gave out; Richmond said that he could not go any further and when told that if he did not he must be Froze to death only answerd that there he would lay and dye; the D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> on the contrary said that he must sleep a little before he could go on and actualy did full a quarter of an hour, at which time we had the welcome news of a fire being lit about a quarter of a mile ahead. I then undertook to make the D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Proceed to it; finding it impossible to make Richmond stir left two hands with him who seemd the least affected with Cold, promising to send two to releive them as soon as I should reach the fire. With much difficulty I got the D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> to it and as soon as two people were sufficiently warmd sent them out in hopes that they would bring Richmond and the rest; after staying about half an hour they returnd bringing word that they had been all round the place shouting and hallowing but could not get any answer. We now guess'd the cause of the mischeif, a bottle of rum the whole of our stock was missing, and we soon concluded that it was in one of their Knapsacks and that the two who were left in health had drank immoderately of it and had slept like the other.</p>
          <p>For two hours now it had snowd almost incessantly so we had little hopes of seeing any of the three alive: about 12 however to our great Joy we heard a shouting, on which myself and 4 more went out immediately and found it to be the Seaman who had
						<pb xml:id="n268" n="221"/>
						wakd almost starvd to death and come a little way from where he lay. Him I sent back to the fire and proceeded by his direction to find the other two, Richmond was upon his leggs but not able to walk the other lay on the ground as insensible as a stone. We immediately calld all hands from the fire and attempted by all the means we could contrive to bring them down but finding it absolutely impossible, the road was so bad and the night so dark that we could scarcely ourselves get on nor did we without many Falls. We would then have lit a fire upon the spot but the snow on the ground as well as that which continualy fell renderd that as impracticable as the other, and to bring fire from the other place was also impossible from the quantity of snow which fell every moment from the branches of the trees; so we were forc'd to content ourselves with laying out our unfortunate companions upon a bed of boughs and covering them over with boughs also as thick as we were able, and thus we left them hopeless of ever seeing them again alive which indeed we never did.</p>
          <p>In these employments we had spent an hour and a half expos'd to the most penetrating cold I ever felt as well as continual snow. Peter Briscoe, another servant of mine, began now to complain and before we came to the fire became very ill but got there at last almost dead with cold.</p>
          <p>Now might our situation truely be calld terrible: of twelve our original number 2 were already past all hopes, one more was so ill that tho he was with us I had little hopes of his being able to walk in the morning, and another very likely to relapse into his fitts either before we set out or in the course of our journey: we were distant from the ship we did not know how far, we knew only that we had been the greatest part of a day in walking it through pathless woods: provision we had none but one vulture which had been shot while we were out, and at the shortest allowance could not furnish half a meal: and to compleat our misfortunes we were caught in a snow storm in a climate we were utterly unaquainted with but which we had reason to beleive was as inhospitable as any in the world, not only from all the accounts we had heard or read but from the Quantity of snow which we saw falling, tho it was very little after midsummer: a circumstance unheard of in Europe for even in Norway or Lapland snow is never known to fall in the summer.</p>
          <p>17. The Morning now dawnd and shewd us the earth coverd with snow as well as all the tops of the trees, nor were the snow squalls
						<pb xml:id="n269" n="222"/>
						at all less Frequent for seldom many minutes were fair together; we had no hopes now but of staying here as long as the snow lasted and how long that would be God alone knew.</p>
          <p>About 6 O'Clock the sun came out a little and we immediately thought of sending to see whether the poor wretches we had been so anzious about last night were yet alive, three of our people went but soon returnd with the melancholy news of their being both dead. The snow continued to fall tho not quite so thick as it had done; about 8 a small breeze of wind sprung up and with the additional power of the sun began (to our great Joy) to clear the air, and soon after we saw the snow begin to fall from the tops of the trees, a sure sign of an aproaching thaw. Peter continued very ill but said he thought himself able to walk. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan thank god was much better than I could have expected, so we agreed to dress our vulture and prepare ourselves to set out for the ship as soon as the snow should be a little more gone off: so he was skinnd and cut into ten equal shares, every man cooking his own share which furnishd about 3 mouthfulls of hot meat, all the refreshment we had had since our cold dinner yesterday and all we were to expect till we should come to the ship.</p>
          <p>About ten we set out and after a march of about 3 hours arrivd at the beach, fortunate in having met with much better roads in our return than we did in going out, as well as in being nearer to the ship than we had any reason to hope; for on reviewing our track as well as we could from the ship we found that we had made a half circle round the hills, instead of penetrating as we thought we had done into the inner part of the cuntrey. With what pleasure then did we congratulate each other on our safety no one can tell who has not been in such circumstances.<note xml:id="fn1-222" n="1"><p>We owe to the journal of Molyneux the master a side-light upon the quenchless enthusiasm of Banks. As soon, he says, as the travellers ‘came on Board &amp; Refresh'd they were put into warm Beds, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks excepted who considering our short Stay &amp; the Uncertainty of the weather, Apply'd for a Boat to Haul the Sane which was done without Success the foul Ground &amp; depth of water rendering the Sane useless. However he had the Satisfaction in his late Excursion to make a Valuable Collection of Alpine &amp; other Plants Hitherto unknown in Natural History’. Banks apparently, though he had not expected to be out all night, had relied too much on the fact of summer. Sir Joseph Hooker, who, when a young man, went with Ross to the Antarctic in the <hi rend="i">Erebus</hi> (1839–43) made some relevant comments. He and his companions, he said, had frequently been overtaken by heavy snowstorms on their expeditions on the Tierra del Fuegan hills. ‘Nothing, however, but personal weakness, or too sudden a change, would have made Sir J. Banks feel their effects so much, for we thought nothing of it, and were it necessary, even without a fire, a shelter might be made which with the warmth of two or three persons close together, might have defied death by cold’.—Hooker to his Mother, 6 December 1842, quoted in <name type="person" key="name-401954">Leonard Huxley</name>, <hi rend="i">Life and Letters of Sir J. D. Hooker</hi>, I, p. 138. Again, ‘This part of the world (Fuegia) has always borne the character of being eminently rigorous and inhospitable,—very much because poor Sir Joseph Banks and Dr Solander, after being accustomed to tropical heat and that hottest of harbours, Rio Janeiro, were rather suddenly cooled down here in the height of summer. The climate in winter is, however, as mild in proportion as the summers are chilly; the annual temperature is assuredly low, but the averages of that of each season are remarkably close’.—To Mrs Boott, 28 November 1842, ibid., pp. 138–9. Hooker overdoes the element of sudden change, for Banks and the others had had plenty of time to get used to lower temperatures than that of the tropics. Richmond and Dorlton would have survived if it had not been for the rum. It was not the snowstorm, or lack of food for a few hours, that was the danger, but for Buchan his epilepsy, and for Solander—one guesses—the effect of too much exercise after too little. Naturally Banks could not help painting the most horrific picture in his journal.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n270" n="223"/>
          <p>18. Peter was very ill today and M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan not at all well, the rest of us thank god in good health tho not yet recoverd from our fatigue.</p>
          <p>It blew fresh without and made such a heaving swell in the bay that no one could go ashore and even the ship was very uncumfortable, rolling so much that one could scarcely stand without holding.</p>
          <p>19. The swell still continued and we were again hinderd from going ashore tho the loss of two days out of the short time we had to stay here made the D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> and myself ready to venture any risk. The officer who was sent to attempt landing returnd bringing word that it was absolutely impossible without great danger of staving the boat, if even that would do. Both yesterday and today a good deal of snow fell in squalls.</p>
          <p>20. Last night the weather began to moderate And this morn was very fine, so much so that we landed without any difficulty in the bottom of the bay and spent our time very much to our satisfaction in collecting shells and plants. Of the former we found some very scarce and fine particularly limpits of several species: of these we observd as well as the shortness of our time would permit that the limpit with a longish hole at the top of his shell is inhabited by an animal very different from those which have no such holes.<note xml:id="fn1-223" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Fissurella picta</hi> Lamarck. One of Banks's specimens of this shell is still at the <name key="name-110211" type="organisation">British Museum</name>.</p></note> Here were also some fine whelks, one particularly with a long tooth,<note xml:id="fn2-223" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Acanthina calcar</hi> (Martyn). One of these too is in the Banksian collection at the British Museum. Other molluses collected at that time are listed by Wilkins in his Catalogue account of Banks's shell collection published in 1955 (<hi rend="i">Bull, B.M. (N.H.) Historical Series</hi>, I, No. 3).</p></note> and infinite variety of <hi rend="i">Lepades, Sertularias, Onisci</hi><note xml:id="fn3-223" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Lepades, Sertularias, Onisci;</hi> there are no dated descriptions or drawings by which these animals (barnacles, hydroids, crustaceans) can be identified.</p></note> &amp;c &amp;c &amp;c much greater variety than I have any where seen, but the shortness of our time would not allow us to examine them so we were obligd to content ourselves with taking specimens of as many of them as we could in so short a time scrape together.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n271" n="224"/>
          <p>We returnd on board to dinner and afterwards went into the Countrey about two miles to see an Indian town which some of our people had given us intelligence of; we arrivd at it in about an hour walking through a path which I suppose was their common road tho it was sometimes up to our knees in mud. The town itself was situate upon a dry Knowl among the trees, which were not at all cleard away, it consisted of not more than twelve or fourteen huts or wigwams of the most unartificial construction imaginable, indeed no thing bearing the name of a hut could possibly be built with less trouble. They consisted of a few poles set up and meeting together at the top in a conical figure, these were coverd on the weather side with a few boughs and a little grass, on the lee side about one eighth part of the circle was left open and against this opening was a fire made. Furniture I may justly say they had none: a little, very little, dry grass laid round the edges of the circle furnishd both beds and chairs, and for dressing their shell Fish (the only provision I saw them make use of) they had no one contrivance but broiling them upon the Coals. For drinking indeed I saw in a corner of one of their hutts a bladder of some beast full of water: in one side of this near the top was a hole through which they drank by elevating a little the bottom which made the water spring up into their mouths.</p>
          <p>In these few hutts and with this small share or rather none at all of what we call the nescessaries and conveniences of life livd about 50 men women and children, to all appearance contented with what they had nor wishing for any thing we could give them except beads; of these they were very fond preferring ornamental things to those which might be of real use and giving more in exchange for a string of Beids than they would for a knife or a hatchet.<note xml:id="fn1-224" n="1"><p>Cook does not mention the visit to this ‘town’, but other traces of it, and of the ‘Indians’ of the vicinity, are found in Buchan's drawings, four in number, in B.M. Add. MS 23920, ff. 11 (?), 12, 16, 17, and in one by Parkinson, f. 13. Buchan, much ‘improved’ by Cipriani, will be found as pl. I in the second volume of Hawkesworth. See Pl. 5.</p></note></p>
          <p>As this is to be the last time of our going ashore on this Island I take this opportunity to give an account of such things the shortness of my stay allowd me to observe.</p>
          <p>Notwithstanding almost all writers who have mentiond this Island have imputed to it a want of wood, soon after we first saw it even at the distance of some leagues, we plainly distinguish'd that the largest part of the countrey particularly near the sea coast was coverd with wood, which observation was verified in both the bays we put into, in either of which firing might have been
						<pb xml:id="n272" n="225"/>
						got close by the beach in any quantity, and some trees which to all appearance might be fit for repairing a vessel or even in case of nescessity to make masts.</p>
          <p>The hills are high tho not to be calld mountains, the tops of these however are quite bare and on them frequent patches of snow were to be seen, tho the time of the year when we were there answerd to the beginning of July in England. In the valleys between these the Soil has much the appearance of Fruitfullness and is in some places of a considerable depth; at the bottom of almost every one of these runs a brook the water of which in general has a reddish Cast like that which runs through turf bogs in England but is very well tasted.</p>
          <p>Quadrupeds I saw none in the Island, except the Seals and Sea lions<note xml:id="fn1-225" n="1"><p>The Southern Sea Lion, <hi rend="i">Otaria byronia</hi>, and the Southern Fur Seal, <hi rend="i">Arctocephalus australis.</hi></p></note> which we often saw swimming about in the bay might be calld such, but D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself when we were on the top of the highest hill we were upon observ'd the footsteps of a large beast imprinted on the surface of a bog, but could not with any probability guess of what kind it might be.<note xml:id="fn2-225" n="2"><p>The beast was no doubt the Guanaco, <hi rend="i">Auchenia huanaco</hi>, one of the two species of South American llamas, the other being the Vicuña, which is sometimes used as a beast of burden. Cf. p. 227 below.</p></note></p>
          <p>Land birds there are very Few. I saw none larger than an English blackbird except hawks and a vulture,<note xml:id="fn3-225" n="3"><p>The only bird of prey from Tierra del Fuego figured on this voyage was the Chimango Caracara, <hi rend="i">Milvago chimango</hi> (Vieill.); Parkinson I, pl. 7.</p></note> but water fowl are much more plentyfull; in the first bay we were in I might have shot any quantity of ducks or geese but would not spare the time from gathering plants. In the other we shot some but probably the Indians in the neighbourhood had made them shy as well as much less plentiful, at least so we found them.</p>
          <p>Fish we saw few nor could with our hooks take any fit to eat. Shell fish however are in the greatest abundance, limpits, muscles, Clams &amp;c. none of them delicate yet such as they were we did not despise them.<note xml:id="fn4-225" n="4"><p>These are discussed by Wilkins (op. cit.), who shows that one of the principal clams they used was the large <hi rend="i">Marcia exalbida</hi> (Dillwyn). See 20 January 1769.</p></note></p>
          <p>Insects there are very few and not one species either hurtfull or troublesome; all the time we have been here we have seen neither gnat nor musqueto a circumstance which few if any uncleard countrey but this can boast of.</p>
          <p>Of Plants here are many species and those truly the most extrordinary I can imagine, in stature and appearance they agree
						<pb xml:id="n273" n="226"/>
						a good deal with the Européan ones only in general are less specious, white flowers being much more common among them than any other colours. But to speak of them botanicaly, probably No botanist has ever enjoyd more pleasure in the contemplation of his Favourite pursuit than D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself among these plants; we have not yet examind many of them, but what we have have turnd out in general so intirely different from any before describd that we are never tird with wondering at the infinite variety of Creation, and admiring the infinite care with which providence has multiplied his productions suiting them no doubt to the various climates for which they were designd. Trees here are very Few, Birch <hi rend="i">Betula antarctica</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-226" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Nothofagus betuloides</hi>, the Guindo, whose more accessible stands are now nearing extinction, though some timber is sawed at local mills.</p></note> Beach <hi rend="i">Fagus antarcticus</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-226" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Nothofagus antarctica</hi>, known as Mire, is host to an orange-yellow fungus (<hi rend="i">Cyttaria</hi>), as is also <hi rend="i">N. cunninghami</hi> of Tasmania. ‘The fact that species of <hi rend="i">Nothofagus</hi>, widely separated geographically, have unusual similarities extending even to the parasites, lends support to the theory of the former continuity of the antarctic continents.’ (Record and Hess).</p></note> winters bark <hi rend="i">Winterana aromatica</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-226" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Drimys winteri</hi>; cf. 216, n. 4 above.</p></note> the two first for timber the other for its excellent aromatick bark so much valued by Physicians are all worth mentioning; and of Plants we could not ascertain the virtues not being able to converse with the Indians who may have experiencd them, but the Scurvy grass <hi rend="i">Cardamine antescorbutica</hi> and wild Celery <hi rend="i">Apium antarcticum</hi> may easily be known to contain antescorbutick virtues capable of being of great service to ships who may in futurity touch here. Of these two therefore I shall give a short description. <hi rend="i">Scurvy grass</hi> is found plentifully in damp places near springs, in general every where near the beach especialy at the watering place in the Bay of Good Success; when young and in its greatest perfection it lays flat on the ground, having many bright green leaves standing in pairs opposite each other with an odd one at the end which makes in general the 5<hi rend="sup">th</hi> on a footstalk; after this it shoots up in stalks sometimes 2 feet high at the top of which are small white blosoms which are succeeded by long podds. The whole plant much resembles that that is calld Ladys Smock or Cuckold flower in England only that the flowers are much smaller. <hi rend="i">Wild Celery</hi> resembles much the Celery in our gardens only that the leaves are of a deeper green, the flowers like it stand in small tufts at the tops of the Branches and are white; it grows plentifully near the Beach, generaly in the first soil which is above spring tides, and is not easily mistaken as the taste resembles Celery or parsley or rather is between. Both these herbs we us'd plentifully while we stayd here putting them in our soup &amp;c, and found the benefit from them which
						<pb xml:id="n274" n="227"/>
						seamen in general find from vegetable diet after having been long deprivd of it.</p>
          <p>The inhabitants we saw here seemd to be one small tribe of Indians consisting of not more than 50 of all ages and sexes. They are of a reddish Colour nearly resembling that of rusty iron mixd with oil: the men large built but very clumsey, their hight from 5 f<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 8 to 5 f<hi rend="sup">t</hi> 10 nearly and all very much of the same size, the women much less seldom exceeding 5 f<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Their Cloaths are no more than a kind of cloak of Guanicoe<note xml:id="fn1-227" n="1"><p>Guanaco, <hi rend="i">Auchenia huanaco</hi>, one of the two South American Bamas; cf. p. 225, n. 2.</p></note> or seal skin thrown loose over their shoulders and reaching down nearly to their knees; under this they have nothing at all nor any thing to cover their feet, except a few of them had shoes of raw seal hide drawn loosely round their instep like a purse. In this dress there is no distinction between men and women, except that the latter have their cloak tied round their middle with a kind of belt or thong and a small flap of leather hanging like Eve's fig leaf over those parts which nature teaches them to hide; which precept tho she has taught to them she seems intirely to have omitted with the men, for they continualy expose those parts to the view of strangers with a carelessness which thoroughly proves them to have no regard to that kind of decency.</p>
          <p>Their ornaments of which they are extreemly fond consist of necklaces or rather Solitaires of shells and braceletts which the women wear both on their wrists and legs, the men only on their wrists, but to compensate for the want of the other they have a kind of wreath of brown worsted which they wear over their Foreheads so that in reality they are more ornamented than the women.</p>
          <p>They paint their faces generaly in horizontal lines just under their eyes and sometimes make the whole region of their eyes white, but these marks are so much varied that no two we saw were alike: whether as marks of distinction or mere ornaments I could not at all make out.</p>
          <p>They seem also to paint themselves with something like a mixture of grease and soot for particular occasions, as when we went to their town there came two out to meet us who were dawb'd with black lines all manner of ways so as to form the most diabolical countenance imaginable, and these two seemd to exorcise us or at least made a loud and long harangue which did not seem to be address'd either to us or any of their countreymen.</p>
          <p>Their language is guttural especialy in some particular words which they seem to express much as an Englishman when he hawks
						<pb xml:id="n275" n="228"/>
						to clear his throat, but they have many words that sound soft enough. During our stay among them I could learn but two of their words, <hi rend="i">Nalleca</hi> which signified beads, at least so they always said when they wanted them instead of the ribbands or other trifles which I offerd them, and <hi rend="i">oouda</hi> which signified water, or so they said when we took them ashore from the ship and by signs ask'd where water was: oouda was their answer, making the sign of drinking and pointing to our casks as well as to the place where we put them ashore and found plenty of water.</p>
          <p>Of Civil goverment I saw no signs, no one seemd to be more respected than another nor did I ever see the least appearance of Quarreling or words between any two of them. Religion also they seemd to be without, unless those people who made strange noises that I have mentiond before were preists or exorcisers which opinion is merely conjectural.</p>
          <p>Their food at least what we saw them make use of was either Seals or shell fish. How they took the former we never saw but the latter were collected by the women, whose business it seemd to be to attend at low water with a basket in one hand, a stick with a point and barb in the other, and a satchel on their backs which they filld with shell fish, loosning the limpits with the stick and putting them into the basket which when full was emty'd into the satchel.</p>
          <p>Their arms consisted of Bows and arrows, the former neatly enough made the latter neater than any I have seen, polishd to the highest degree and headed either with glass or flint very neatly; but this was the only neat thing they had and the only thing they seemd to take any pains about. Their houses which I have describd before are the most miserable ones imaginable and furniture they have none.</p>
          <p>That these people have before had intercourse with Européans was very plain from many instances: first from the Européan Commodities of which we saw Sail Cloth, Brown woolen Cloth, Beads, nails, Glass &amp;c, and of them especialy the last (which they used for pointing their arrows) a considerable quantity; from the confidence they immediately put in us at our first meeting tho well acquainted with our superiority; and from the knowledge they had of the use of our guns which they very soon shewd, making signs to me to shoot a seal who was following us in the boat which carried them ashore from the ship. They probably travel and stay but a short time at a place, so at least it should seem from the badness of their houses which seem intirely built to stand but for a short
						<pb xml:id="n276" n="229"/>
						time; from their having no kind of household furniture but what has a handle adapted to it either to be carried in the hand or on the back; from the thinness of their Cloathing which seems little calculated even to bear the summers of this countrey much less the winters; from their food of shell fish which must soon be exhausted at any one place; and from the deserted huts we saw in the first bay we came to where people had plainly been but a short time before, probably this spring.</p>
          <p>Boats they had none with them but as they were not sea sick or particularly affected when they came onboard our ship, possibly they might be left at some bay or inlet which passes partly but not all the way through this Island from the Streights of Magellan, from which place I should be much inclind to beleive these people have come as so few ships before us have anchord upon any part of Terra del Fuego.</p>
          <p>Their dogs which I forgot to mention before seem also to indicate a commerce had some time or other with Européans, they being all of the kind that bark, contrary to what has been observd of (I beleive) all dogs natives of America.<note xml:id="fn1-229" n="1"><p>Banks gives us here the best early description of the Ona people of the main island of Tierra del Fuego, a people of obscure origin who were, as he rightly surmised, nomadic hunters, living in small groups bound together by family ties, and without ‘civil government’. They were remarkable as an insular people who did not use boats. Their diet, besides the seals and shell fish that Banks saw them use, was guanaco, and tussock roots and wild celery; their distaste for strong drink was noticed by more than one journal-keeper on English ships. Their numbers have declined, E. Lucas Bridges, in his <hi rend="i">Uttermost Part of the Earth</hi> (London 1948), has some interesting remarks.</p></note></p>
          <p>The weather here has been very uncertain tho in general extreemly bad: every day since the first more or less snow has fallen and yet the glass has never been below 38: unseasonable as this weather seems to be in the middle of summer I am inclind to think it is generaly so here, for none of the plants appear at all affected by it, and the insects who hide themselves during the time a snow blast lasts are the instant it is fair again as lively and nimble as the finest weather could make them.</p>
          <p>21. Saild this morn, the wind Foul, but our keeping boxes being full of new plants we little regarded any wind provided it was but moderate enough to let the draughtsmen work, who to do them justice are now so used to the sea that it must blow a gale of wind before they leave off.</p>
          <p>22. Weather pleasant but a little cold wind came to the Northward and we get a little westing.</p>
          <p>23. At day break this morn there was land almost all round us,
						<pb xml:id="n277" n="230"/>
						which we judged to be Terra del Fuego not far from the streights and attributed the little way we had made to the streng[t]h of the current setting us to the Eastward. Our old Freind the Sugar Loaf was now in sight who seemd to have followd us, for he was certainly much nearer to us now than he was when we saw him last on the other side of the streights.</p>
          <p>24. Many Islands about us today: weather very moderate: one of the Islands was surrounded by small pointed rocks standing out of the water like the Needles.<note xml:id="fn1-230" n="1"><p>Cook: ‘this I take to be the Island of Evouts, it is about one League in circuit and of a moderate height and lies 4 League from the Main, near the south point of it are some peeked Rocks pretty high above water’.—I, p. 48.</p></note></p>
          <p>Ever since we left the streights the albatrosses that have flown about the ship have either been or appeard much larger than those seen before we enterd them, but the weather has never been moderate enough to give us an opportunity of getting out a boat to shoot any of them.</p>
          <p>25. Wind today Northwest: stood in with some Islands which were large, we could not tell for certain whether we saw any part of the main. The little Island mentiond yesterday was in view, and beyond that the land made in a bluf head, within which another appeard tho but faintly which was farther to the Southward; possibly that might be <name key="name-200921" type="place">Cape Horn</name>, but a fog which overcast it almost immediately after we saw it hinderd our making any material observations upon it, so all we can say is that it was the Southermost land that we saw and does not ill answer to the description [of] Cape Horn given by the French, who place it upon an Island and say that it is composd of two bluff headlands: v. <hi rend="i">Navigat aux terres australes tom 1. pag. 356.</hi><note xml:id="fn2-230" n="2"><p>See Cook's discussion of Cape Horn, I, p. 49. The French volumes were those of de Brosses, <hi rend="i">Navigations aux terres australes</hi> (1756). Charles de Brosses (1709–77), lawyer and magistrate, classical scholar, <hi rend="i">philosophe</hi>, was the author of the first published account of the excavations at Herculaneum (1750), which was translated into Italian and English, of a great edition of Sallust (1777), and of works on fetish-worship, etymology and grammar, musical theory, etc. A number of his MSS were destroyed in the Revolution. He had a considerable correspondence with savants and men of letters, but had the misfortune to make an enemy of <name key="name-400977" type="person">Voltaire</name> (see the diverting paper by <name type="person" key="name-000697">Lytton Strachey</name> in <hi rend="i">Portraits in Miniature</hi>). For the story of Cook and Banks, de Brosses's two volumes on South Sea discoveries, imperfectly arranged and discursive as they are, are his important work. I have touched on his place in eighteenth century geographical thought in my Introduction to Cook I, pp. Ixxviii ff. See also <name type="person" key="name-401776">A. Rainaud</name>, <hi rend="i">Le Continent Austral</hi> (Paris 1893), pp. 413–22; and <name type="person" key="name-401777">Alan C. Taylor</name>, <hi rend="i">Le Président de Brosses et l'Australie</hi> (Paris 1938).</p></note></p>
          <p>26. Weather vastly moderate today, wind foul so we were sorry that we had ran away from the land last night.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n278" n="231"/>
          <p>27. Wind came to the northward and we got some little westing, possibly today we were to the westward of the cape, at least a great swell from the NWt makes it certain that we were to the Southward of it. Many large albatrosses <hi rend="i">d. exulans</hi> were about the ship whose backs were very white;<note xml:id="fn1-231" n="1"><p>These were possibly not the Wandering but the Royal Albatross, <hi rend="i">Diomedea epomophora</hi> Lesson. Murphy considers it probable that many of the sight records of large white albatrosses in the southern waters of South America refer to the latter species (<hi rend="i">Oceanic Birds of South America</hi>, 1936, p. 577).</p></note> at noon a shag <hi rend="i">Pelecanus antarcticus</hi><note xml:id="fn2-231" n="2"><p>A shag, <hi rend="i">Phalacrocorax albiventer</hi> (Lesson). Solander, p. 15; Parkinson I, pl. 29. Dr Falla has identified this pencil sketch as one of a sub-mature individual of the species.</p></note> came on board the ship and was taken. Soon after dinner saw an Island to the northward possibly Diego Ramires.<note xml:id="fn3-231" n="3"><p>Diego Ramirez, lat. 56° 30’ S, long. 68° 43’ W. It is really a small group of islets and rocks stretching about 5 miles north and south, the northernmost rock 56 miles south-east of <name key="name-200921" type="place">Cape Horn</name>.</p></note></p>
          <p>28. Pleasant breezes but a heavy swell from NNW continued and made it likely that we were past the Cape, tho we had made but little westing.</p>
          <p>29. Wind still Foul and swell continued; today at noon lat. 59.00.</p>
          <p>30. At noon today Lat 60.04: near calm: almost all navigators have met with Easterly winds in this Lat. so we were in hopes to do the same: towards Even wind got to the Southward.</p>
          <p>31. Wind SE: stood to the westward with very fine weather.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d7" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">February</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. Calm this morn: went out in the boat and Killd <hi rend="i">Diomedea antarctica</hi><note xml:id="fn4-231" n="4"><p>The Light-mantled Sooty Albatross, <hi rend="i">Phoebetria palpebrata</hi> (Forst.). Parkinson's drawing of this bird was made on this date (I, pl. 26).</p></note> <hi rend="i">Procellaria antarctica</hi><note xml:id="fn5-231" n="5"><p>This MS name of Banks's appears to have been used for the bird he referred to also as <hi rend="i">P. lugens</hi>, which we have identified as <hi rend="i">Pterodroma inexpectata</hi> (Forster). Parkinson's drawing, dated 1 February 1769, (I, pl. 21), of what is probably this species, has <hi rend="i">Procellaria antarctica</hi> written on the back, but <hi rend="i">antarctica</hi> is crossed through and <hi rend="i">lugens</hi> written above it. Banks's actual note on <hi rend="i">P. lugens</hi> is doubtfully applicable to <hi rend="i">P. inexpectata</hi>, inasmuch as that species does not fly heavily; on the other hand Murphy has shown (<hi rend="i">American Museum Novitates</hi>, 1580, 1952, p. 6) that the underwing pattern of the species could be interpreted in the way Banks described.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">turtur.</hi><note xml:id="fn6-231" n="6"><p>Parkinson's unfinished, dated drawing (I, pl. 15) of this specimen probably represents the Slender-billed Whale bird, <hi rend="i">Pachyptila belcheri</hi> (Mathews). Flocks of countless thousands of these and other whale birds are one of the most remarkable sights to be seen in those areas of the southern occans that are rich in the plankton on which the birds feed. In this group of petrels there is a series of lamellae within the bill which acts in rather the same way as the baleen within the mouth of a whale and enables them to skin the organisms on which they live from the surface layers of the sea—hence their popular name.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Diomedœa antarctica</hi> the Black billd albatross is much like the common but differs from him in being scarce half as large and having a bill intirely black. <hi rend="i">Procellaria lugens</hi> the Southern shear water differs from the common one in being less and darker colourd on the back, but is easily
						<pb xml:id="n279" n="232"/>
						distinguishd by his flight which is heavy, and two fascia or streaks of white under his wings which are very conspicuous when he flies. <hi rend="i">Procellaria turtur</hi> Mother Careys dove is of the peteril kind about the size of a barbary dove, of a light silvery blue upon the back which shines beautifully as he flies which he does very swiftly keeping generaly near the surface of the water; more or less of these birds have been seen very often since we left the lat. of <name key="name-200836" type="place">Fauklands Island</name> where in a gale of wind we saw immense quantities of them.</p>
          <p>2. This morn calm and Foggy much like the weather on the Banks of Newfoundland; after dinner went in the boat and shot <hi rend="i">Procellaria fuliginosa</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-232" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Procellaria aequinoctialis</hi> Linn., the Cape Hen; Solander's description (p. 77) and Parkinson's drawing (I, pl. 19) of this species bear this date. Cf. 26 December 1768.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Turtur, gigantea</hi><note xml:id="fn2-232" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Macronectes gigantea</hi> (Gm.), the Giant Petrel; cf. 22 December 1768.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Fregata</hi>.<note xml:id="fn3-232" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Fregetta grallaria</hi> (Vieill.), the White-bellied Storm Petrel; cf. 22 December 1768.</p></note> I saw also a small bird not larger than a blackbird who flew quick flapping his wings like a partridge, but was not able to get a shot at him, probably he was of the <hi rend="i">alca</hi> tribe.<note xml:id="fn4-232" n="4"><p>This would have been a diving-petrel; cf. 10 January 1769.</p></note></p>
          <p>3. Calm again: went out and shoot <hi rend="i">Diomedœa Exulans</hi> Albatross or Alcatrace, differing from those seen to the Northward of Streights of La Maire in being much larger and often quite white on the back between the wings, tho certainly the same species;<note xml:id="fn5-232" n="5"><p>This Wandering Albatross was described by Solander, p. 5, and although its wing-span was 10 ft 1 in. he shows clearly that it was an immature bird; Banks's remark about there being larger and whiter specimens here seems to be a generalization.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Diomedœa antarctica</hi> Lesser black billd Albatross;<note xml:id="fn6-232" n="6"><p>The Light-mantled Sooty Albatross; cf. 27 January 1769.</p></note> <hi rend="i">diomedœa profuga</hi> Lesser Albatross with a party colourd bill, differing from the last in few things except the bill the upper and under sides of which were yellow and between them black;<note xml:id="fn7-232" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Diomedea chrysostoma</hi> Forster, the Grey-headed Albatross. The details of Parkinson's sketch of this bird (I, pl. 27) and of Solander's account (pp. 11–12) suggest that this was an immature bird: it was identified by Sharpe (<hi rend="i">History of the Collections</hi>, II, p. 176, 1906) as <hi rend="i">D. chlororhynchos</hi>, but that species has not been recorded from the west coast of South America nor from the Eastern Pacific. Banks's MS is not quite clear here: it seems that his remark about a ‘Lesser Albatross differing from the last in but few things except the bill’, may concern a second specimen which, according to his note on the colour of the bill, was a mature bird. Solander, however, described only immature specimens, including one captured twelve days later which Banks does not record.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Procellaria vagabunda.</hi><note xml:id="fn8-232" n="8"><p>The White-headed Petrel, <hi rend="i">Pterodroma lessonii</hi> (Garnot). Solander, p. 95.</p></note> Therm. 41.</p>
          <p>4. Blew brisk today, made some northing and westing; we now began to account ourselves certainly past the cape and the Captain (as in his orders was recommended) resolvd to stand as far to the westward as the winds will allow him to do. Two crabs were taken today in the cloaths that hang overboard to tow.<note xml:id="fn9-232" n="9"><p>These crabs are unidentifiable; no drawings or descriptions seem to relate to them.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n280" n="233"/>
          <p>I had been unwell these three or four days and today was obligd to keep the Cabbin with a bilious attack, which tho quite slight alarmd me a good deal, as Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Wallis had in the Streights of Magellan such an attack which he never got the better of throughout the whole voyage.</p>
          <p>5. All but calm today: myself a little better than yesterday, well enough to eat part of the Albatrosses shot on the third, which were so good that every body commended and Eat heartily of them tho there was fresh pork upon the table. The way of dressing them is thus: Skin them over night and soak their carcases in Salt water till morn, then parboil them and throw away the water, then stew them well with very little water and when sufficiently tender serve them up with Savoury sauce.</p>
          <p>6. Foul wind, myself something better.</p>
          <p>7. Myself better again, in the evening ship made a little westing.</p>
          <p>8. Fair wind, blew fresh.</p>
          <p>9. Blew fresh all last night which has given us a good deal of westing. This morn some sea weed floated past the ship and my servant declares that he saw a large beetle fly over her: I do not beleive he would deceive me and he certainly knows what a beetle is, as he has these 3 years been often employd in taking them for me.<note xml:id="fn1-233" n="1"><p>Presumably Banks here refers to <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name>, who was with him in Newfoundland, rather than the younger <name type="person" key="name-401898">James Roberts</name>.</p></note></p>
          <p>10. During all last night the ship has pitchd very much so that there has been no sleeping for land men. Today misty with little wind.</p>
          <p>11. Fair wind, stand to the westward.</p>
          <p>12. Foul wind, but prodigious fine weather and smooth water makes amends to us at least.</p>
          <p>13. Wind still Foul and blew fresh, at night a little mended.</p>
          <p>14. Wind South, water soon became smooth, at night little wind.</p>
          <p>15. Calm this morn: went in the boat and killd <hi rend="i">Procellaria velox</hi><note xml:id="fn2-233" n="2"><p>One of the small grey and white gadfly petrels of the subgenus <hi rend="i">Cookilaria</hi> (cf. Falla, <hi rend="i">Emu</hi>, 1942, p. 111) since this is the only group of the genus <hi rend="i">Plerodroma (Bulweria)</hi> characterized by the blue feet mentioned as a diagnostic character by Solander. His notes suggest (p. 68) that he may have examined and classified together under this name specimens of up to eight of the members of this group, but the specimen under consideration, which was figured by Parkinson, I, pl. 16, must belong to one of the two species exploiting this zone of surface water, <hi rend="i">Plerodroma cookii</hi> or <hi rend="i">P. longirostris</hi>, and very probably to one of the two races nesting nearby at <name type="person" key="name-160028">Juan Fernandez</name>, <hi rend="i">P. cookii defilippiana</hi> (Gigl. and Salvad.) or <hi rend="i">P. longirostris longirostris</hi> (Stejneger). The drawing shows the short bill typical of <hi rend="i">longirostris</hi> so that the name <hi rend="i">Procellaria velox</hi>, which was restricted by Mathews to this specimen (<hi rend="i">Birds of Australia</hi>, 1912, p. 170) must be regarded as a synonym of <hi rend="i">Aestralata longirostris</hi>, Stejneger 1893. (Dr W. R. P. Bourne, personal communication.)</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n281" n="234"/>
						<hi rend="i">Nectris munda</hi><note xml:id="fn1-234" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Puffinus assimilis</hi> (Gould), the Little or Allied Shearwater. Parkinson I, pl. 24, Solander, pp. 115–16. This bird has been much discussed and notes on variation in the southern races are given by Bourne, <hi rend="i">Emu</hi>, 1959, p. 212.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">fuliginosa</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-234" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Puffinus griseus</hi> (Gm.), the Sooty Shearwater or New Zealand Mutton-bird. Parkinson I, pl. 23, Solander, pp. 111–12. Both these drawings of ‘<hi rend="i">Nectris</hi>’ spp. are dated. Solander was the first to recognize the distinctive character of the shearwater bill, which for long was used to separate these birds from the other petrels.</p></note> which two last are a new genus between Procellaria and Diomedea: this we reckon a great acquisition to our bird collection. My stay out today was much shortned by a breeze of wind which brought me aboard by 11 o clock and before night blew very fresh.</p>
          <p>16. All last night and this morn it has blown very fresh, wind South, so that we have 3 reefs in the topsails for the first time since we left the streights of La Maire.</p>
          <p>17. Blew fresh yet and wind stood, so we went well to the westward. In the evening more moderate; I ventur'd upon deck for the first time and saw several porpoises without any pinna dorsalis, black on the backs, under the belly and on the noses white;<note xml:id="fn3-234" n="3"><p>The Right Whale Dolphin, <hi rend="i">Lissodelphis peroni</hi> (Lacépéde).</p></note> also a kind of Albatross different from any I have seen, he being black all over except the head and bill which were white.<note xml:id="fn4-234" n="4"><p>Perhaps the Giant Petrel, <hi rend="i">Macronectes giganteus</hi>, in which there are various colour phases. The Galapagos Albatross, <hi rend="i">Diomedea irrorata</hi> Salvin, has a whitish head and is otherwise dusky but it is unlikely to have been so far south.</p></note></p>
          <p>18. Fair weather, ship stood NW.</p>
          <p>19. Went very slowly through the water tho pleasan[t]ly for the ship had scarcely any motion.</p>
          <p>20. Wind still foul but very moderate and the ship almost without motion.</p>
          <p>21. Still no swell from the west tho the ship had fresh way through the water. A bird not seen before attended the ship about the size of a pidgeon, black above and light colourd underneath, darting swiftly along the surface of the water in the same manner as I have observd the Nectris to do of which genus he is probably a species.<note xml:id="fn5-234" n="5"><p>A number of small petrels occur hereabouts; this note is not sufficient to identify the one Banks observed.</p></note></p>
          <p>22. This morn settled rain and scarce any wind, the whole evening small puffs of wind and rain and calms succeeded each other.</p>
          <p>23. Calm: went out in the boat, shott <hi rend="i">Procellaria velox</hi>,<note xml:id="fn6-234" n="6"><p><hi rend="i">Pterodroma</hi> sp., one of the gadfly petrels. See 15 February 1769.</p></note> fuliginosa<note xml:id="fn7-234" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Procellaria aequinoctialis</hi>, the Cape Hen. Solander, p. 77. See also 2 February 1769.</p></note>
						<pb xml:id="n282" n="235"/>
						and <hi rend="i">velificans.</hi><note xml:id="fn1-235" n="1"><p>Dr W. R. P. Bourne in a personal communication has pointed out that Solander's description (pp. 93–4) of <hi rend="i">P. velificans</hi> agrees well with <hi rend="i">Pterodroma externa externa</hi> (Salvin), the White-necked Petrel, and that his suggestion that his specimen was like a large <hi rend="i">Procellaria mollis</hi> (from which it differs in the white underwing noted by him) is clearly diagnostic.</p></note> At night wind came to the east tho very little of it, it was however a matter of comfort to have any as we have not had the name of East in the wind since 31<hi rend="sup">st</hi> of Jan<hi rend="sup">ry</hi>.</p>
          <p>24. At 12 last night the wind settled at NE; this morn found studding Sails set and the ship going at the rate of 7 knotts, no very usual thing with M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Endeavour.</p>
          <p>25. Almost calm so that we trembled for the continuance of our east wind and soon after noon it left us; at night Rain and dirty weather wind N.</p>
          <p>26. Blew fresh, before dinner handed<note xml:id="fn2-235" n="2"><p>Furled. Cook is rather stronger in his language than Banks: ‘very strong gales and Squally with Showers of rain which at length brought us under our two courses and close reef'd Main topsail’.—I, p. 61.</p></note> all topsails. Albatrosses began to be much less plentifull than they have been. Lat. 41.8’.</p>
          <p>27. Moderate and fine, the weather began to feel soft and comfortable like the spring in England.</p>
          <p>28. Weather fine with a pleasant breeze. In the evening a great many Porpoises of a very large size came about the ship; they differ'd from any I have seen before in being very much larger, in having their back fins a great deall higher in proportion, and in every one having a white spot on each side of his face as large as the crown of a hat but of an oval shape.<note xml:id="fn3-235" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Orcinus orca</hi>, the Killer Whale.</p></note></p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d8" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="c">March</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. Fine weather and very pleasant, began the new month by pulling off an under waistcoat.</p>
          <p>2. Rather squally this morn and had been so all night: it did not however blow up to a gale tho the ship had a good deal of motion, indeed I began to hope that we were now so near the peacefull part of the Pacifick ocean that we may almost cease to fear any more gales.<note xml:id="fn4-235" n="4"><p>This remark may have some connection with Banks's entry for 11 March, pp. 237–8 below, on which see the note. Cook records for the morning ‘a strong fresh gale and pretty clear weather’; his definition of a gale was probably more technical than Banks's. His noon position for this day was lat. 37° 19’ S, long. 112° 5’ W.</p></note></p>
          <p>3. Calm: went in the boat and killd <hi rend="i">Procellaria velox</hi>, 2 <hi rend="i">velificans</hi>, 3
						<pb xml:id="n283" n="236"/>
						<hi rend="i">sordida</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-236" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">P. sordida:</hi> ? the Kermadec Petrel, <hi rend="i">Plerodroma neglecta neglecta</hi> (Schlegel). According to Solander, p. 83, another specimen was taken on the 21st of this month; although his account of the dorsal plumage is not altogether satisfactory for <hi rend="i">P. neglecta</hi>, his notes on the undersurface of the wing agree closely with the description and figure of this species given by Murphy and Pennoyer, <hi rend="i">Amer. Mus. Novil.</hi> 1580, 1952, and it seems probable that he had some light phase birds of this polymorphic species.</p></note> 4 <hi rend="i">melanopus</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-236" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">P. melanopus:</hi> another Kermadec Petrel, <hi rend="i">Pterodroma neglecta</hi> (Schl.). Solander's description, p. 85, is quite close to that given by Murphy and Pennoyer (op. cit.) for birds in the dark phase of this species, and he placed <hi rend="i">sordida</hi> next to <hi rend="i">melanopus</hi> both in MS Z<hi rend="sub">4</hi> and in his interleaved edition of the <hi rend="i">Systema Naturae.</hi> Gould states that he examined a drawing in Banks's collection with <hi rend="i">melanopus</hi> written on it in Solander's hand (<hi rend="i">Ann. Mag. Nat. Hist.</hi> 13, p. 363, 1844) but unfortunately no trace of it can be found now. <hi rend="i">P. melanopus</hi> Gm. was a different bird, taken from Latham's account, and only 13 inches long. Solander's birds were 15 inches long with a wing span of 39 inches; they weighed 14 oz.</p></note> 5 <hi rend="i">lugens</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-236" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">P. lugens:</hi> Peale's Petrel, <hi rend="i">Pterodroma inexpectata</hi> Forster. See 1 February above.</p></note> <hi rend="i">agilis</hi><note xml:id="fn4-236" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">P. agilis:</hi> the Sunday Island Petrel, <hi rend="i">Pterodroma externa cervicalis</hi> (Salvin). Solander's careful description, p. 69, giving details of the head, neck and back as well as the underwing pattern, clearly points to this identification.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Diomedœa exulans</hi><note xml:id="fn5-236" n="5"><p>An immature Wandering Albatross.</p></note> The Albatross very brown exactly the same as the first I killd, which if I mistake not was nearly in the same latitude on the other side of the continent. Caught <hi rend="i">Holothuria obtusata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn6-236" n="6"><p>A small specimen of the Portuguese Man-of-war of which there is an unfinished dated sketch (III, p. 41) by Parkinson.</p></note> <hi rend="i">Phillodoce velella</hi><note xml:id="fn7-236" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Velella velella</hi> (Linn.).</p></note> exactly the same as those taken on the other side of the continent except in size, which in these did not exceed that of an English sixpence. Also <hi rend="i">Dogysa vitrea</hi> the same as that taken off Rio de Janeiro; now however we had an opportunity of seeing its ext[r]ordinary manner of breeding which is better to be understood from the drawing than any description I can give; suffice it therefore to say that the whole progeny 15 or 20 in number hung in a chain from one end of the mother, the oldest only or the largest adhering to her and the rest to each other.<note xml:id="fn8-236" n="8"><p>Parkinson's labelled drawings (III, pls. 31, 32) of this animal show a nectophore of the siphonophore <hi rend="i">Diphyes dispar</hi>, but Banks's account of the reproductive chain refers to a salp.</p></note></p>
          <p>While in the boat among a large quantity of birds I had killd, 69 in all, caught 2 <hi rend="i">Hippoboscas</hi> forest flies, both of one species different from any described.<note xml:id="fn9-236" n="9"><p>Unidentifiable in the absence of a description or drawing.</p></note> More than probably these belongd to the birds and came off with them from the land. I found also this day a large <hi rend="i">Sepia</hi> cuttle fish laying on the water just dead but so pulld to peices by the birds that his Species could not be determind; only this I know that of him was made one of the best soups I ever eat. He was very large, differd from the Europæans in that his arms instead of being (like them) furnished with suckers were armd with a double row of very sharp talons, resembling in shape those of a cat and like them retractable into a sheath of skin from whence they might be thrust at pleasure.<note xml:id="fn10-236" n="10"><p>One of the Onychoteuthidae, a family of cephalopods, with retractile claws.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n284" n="237"/>
          <p>The weather is now become pleasan[t]ly warm and the Barnacles upon the ships bottom seemd to be regenerate, very few only of the old ones remaining alive but young ones without number scarce bigger than Lentils.</p>
          <p>4. Fine weather, the ship goes 5 knotts without rowling or pitching which she has not done this great while; this we attribute to the empty water cask[s] in the fore hold having been filld with salt water yesterday.</p>
          <p>There were several bonitos about the ship or at least fish something like them.<note xml:id="fn1-237" n="1"><p>Possibly <hi rend="i">Euthynnus pelamis.</hi></p></note></p>
          <p>5. Fine weather but foul wind, it now begins to be very hot. Therm. 70 and damp, with prodigious dews at night greater than any I have felt, this renews our uncomfortably damp situation, every thing beginning to mould as it did about the æquinoctial line in the Atlantick.</p>
          <p>6. Weather wind and heat continued, dew to night as strong as ever.</p>
          <p>7. Wind weather heat and dew as yesterday. No Albatrosses have been seen since the 4<hi rend="sup">th</hi>, and for some days before that we had only now and then a single one in sight so conclude we have parted with them for good and all.<note xml:id="fn2-237" n="2"><p>The albatrosses of the southern oceans are commonly found between latitudes 30° and 60° S, but sometimes further north when there are currents of cool water. There is one species, <hi rend="i">Diomedea irrorata</hi> Salvin, which breeds in the Galapagos islands. Three other species are confined to the north Pacific. It would seem that albatrosses in general keep to cooler waters on account of the richer food supply there.</p></note></p>
          <p>8. Rains today with uncommonly large and heavy drops, accompanied with calms and small puffs of wind all round the Compass; in the Evening a SE wind took the ship aback and before night blew brisk.</p>
          <p>9. Fine weather wind right aft. A tropick bird<note xml:id="fn3-237" n="3"><p>Tropic birds are widely distributed in low latitudes. Races of both the Red-tailed Tropic Bird, <hi rend="i">Phaethon rubricauda</hi> Boddaert, and the White-tailed, <hi rend="i">P. lepturus</hi> Daudin, occur almost throughout the south-west Pacific (for distribution map of tropic birds and albatrosses in the south Pacific see Fleming, <hi rend="i">Emu</hi>, 49, 1950, p. 183).</p></note> was seen by some of the people but myself did not see him.</p>
          <p>10. Fine weather continued, wind aft and very pleasant.</p>
          <p>11. Wind and weather much the same as yesterday. Tho it had blown a steady breeze of wind these three days no sea at all was up, from whence we began to conclude that we had pass'd the Line drawn between the Great South Sea and the Pacifick ocean by
						<pb xml:id="n285" n="238"/>
						the Council of the Royal Society,<note xml:id="fn1-238" n="1"><p>I am quite at a loss to explain when or where this line was drawn. By courtesy of the President, Council and Fellows of the Royal Society, I was enabled to consult the Council Minutes, but have found no reference to the matter in the eighteenth century up to 1768. When Balboa first named the sea he saw in 1513, looking south from the Gulf of San Miguel, he called it the <hi rend="i">Mar del Zur</hi>, the South Sea. It was Magellan who conferred the name Pacific. Dampier, writing of his passage from <name type="person" key="name-160028">Juan Fernandez</name> to the Galapagos in 1684, remarks, ‘Our passage lay now along the Pacifick-Sea, properly so called. For tho’ it be usual with our Map-makers to give that Name to this whole Ocean calling it Mare Australe, Mar del Zur, or Mare Pacificum; yet, in my opinion, the Name of the Pacifick-Sea ought not to be extended from South to North farther than from 30 to about 4 deg. South Latitude, and from the American shore Westward indefinitely, with respect to my observation…. Nor are there in this Sea any Winds but the Trade- wind, no Tempests, no Tornadoes or Hurricanes (tho’ north of the Equator, they are met with as well in this Ocean as in the Atlantick…)’.—<hi rend="i">New Voyage (Voyages</hi>, ed. Masefield, I. pp. 120–1). The eighteenth century cartographers seem to have placed the names according to individual fancy.</p></note> notwithstanding we are not yet within the tropicks.</p>
          <p>12. Wind continued fair but in the even flaggd a little; we began to imagine that it must be the trade, at least if it continues we resolv'd [to] call it so.</p>
          <p>13. Almost calm to day tho not quite enough for going out in the boat. I saw a tropick bird for the first time hovering over the ship but flying very high; if my eyes did not deceive me it differd from that describd by Linnæus, <hi rend="i">Phaeton æthereus</hi>, in having the long feathers of his tail red and his crissum black.<note xml:id="fn2-238" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Phaethon rubricauda</hi>, the Red-tailed Tropic Bird. The crissum, i.e. the feathers immediately posterior to the vent, is not black: see Banks's note for 21 March. See Pl. 6.</p></note></p>
          <p>Towards even set the servants to work with a dipping net who took <hi rend="i">Mimus volutator</hi><note xml:id="fn3-238" n="3"><p>A nudibranch, <hi rend="i">Glaucus atlanticus;</hi> see 4 October 1768.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Phyllodoce velella</hi>, both exactly the same as those we have seen in the Atlantick ocean. Lat. 30.45, Long. 126.23.45.</p>
          <p>14. Very light winds today shifting from South to East: at noon an alarm of Land being seen which proved at night to be no more than a fog bank tho it certainly remaind many hours without any change in its appearance.</p>
          <p>The tropick birds this Evening made a noise as they flew over the ship not unlike some gulls.</p>
          <p>15. All but calm all this day: many tropick birds were about the ship. The sea today was remarkably quiet so that the ship had little or no motion.</p>
          <p>This night happend an occultation of Saturn by the moon, which M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green observ'd but was unlucky in having the weather so cloudy that the observation was good for little or nothing.<note xml:id="fn4-238" n="4"><p>Cook mentions the observation, but leaves blank the times of immersion and emersion; so evidently Banks was right, and the details were not worth noting.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n286" n="239"/>
          <p>16. Calm almost, but the ship stole through this remarkably smooth water so that I do not think it worth while to have a boat hoisted out; by observation to day they find that she has gone these two days much faster than the log which they tell me is very often the case in light winds when the ship goes before them.</p>
          <p>Our water which was taken aboard at Terra del Fuego has remaind till this time perfectly good without the least change, an instance which I am told is very rare, especialy as in our case when water is brought from a cold climate into a hot one. This however has stood it without any damage and now drinks as brisk and pleasant as when first taken on board, or better, for the red colour it had at first is subsided and it is now as clear as any English spring water.</p>
          <p>17. Most of this day as yesterday almost calm, at night a small breeze came on from ENE so that the ship went 4 knotts.</p>
          <p>18. Squally weather all night with heavy rain: this morn much the same, the rain so heavy that the Cabbin was twice baild of more than a bucket full at a time, all which came in at the crevises of the weather quarter window,<note xml:id="fn1-239" n="1"><p>The ‘quarter window’ was one of the windows next the ship's stern, the ‘weather quarter window’ that one exposed to the wind. The winds this day as noted by Cook were north-east and north, and the ship's course was N 60° 45’ W, so it was the window on the starboard side that took in the rain.</p></note> for there was no leak of any consequence in any other part of the cabbin. The Wind was at N and brought with it a hot damp air which affected (I may safely say) every man in the ship more or less; towards even however it shifted towards the west and was much dryer.</p>
          <p>19. Pleasant breeze, ship went N by W. Some flying fish were seen this morn and several procellarias cheifly of the brown sorts as <hi rend="i">sordida.</hi></p>
          <p>20. Very fine as yesterday: many tropick birds were about the ship, as indeed there has been every day since I first mentiond them but still more of them as the weather was finer. Lat. today. Long.<note xml:id="fn2-239" n="2"><p>In Cook, lat. 25° 44’ S, long. 129° 28’ W. The ship was now approaching the Tuamotus, within which is would in a fortnight make its first landfall, but the closest land was Pitcairn, a little farther north and west—lat. 25° 04’ S, long. 130° 05’ W.</p></note> When I look on the charts of these Seas and see our course, which has been Near a streight one at NW since we left Cape Horne, I cannot help wondering that we have not yet seen land.<note xml:id="fn3-239" n="3"><p>i.e. the Southern Continent.</p></note> It is however some pleasure to be able to disprove that which does not exist but in the opinions of Theoretical writers, of which sort most are who have wrote any thing about
						<pb xml:id="n287" n="240"/>
						these seas without having themselves been in them. They have generaly supposd that every foot of sea which they beleivd no ship had passd over to be land, tho they had little or nothing to support that opinion but vague reports, many of them mentiond only as such by the very authors who first publishd them, as for instance the <hi rend="i">Orange Tree</hi> one of the Nassau fleet who being separated from her Companions and drove to the westward reported on her joining them again that she had twice seen the Southern continent;<note xml:id="fn1-240" n="1"><p>The Nassau fleet, so called after its patron the Prince of Nassau, was the Dutch fleet that set out in 1623 under Jacob le Hermite and <name type="person" key="name-401882">Hugo Schapenham</name> to raid Peru. The raid was a failure, but geographers were excited by the news that one of the ships, the <hi rend="i">Orange</hi>, separated from the fleet by bad weather, rejoined it at <name type="person" key="name-160028">Juan Fernandez</name> in April 1624 after sighting the Southern Continent twice, in lat. 50° and 41°.</p></note> both which places are laid down by M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Dalrymple<note xml:id="fn2-240" n="2"><p>In the chart included in his <hi rend="i">Account of the Discoveries made in the South Pacifick Ocean, Previous to 1764</hi> (London 1769). It will be remembered that Dalrymple presented Banks with a copy of this pamphlet, previous to the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> departure. On the chart the Dutch ‘discoveries’ of 1624 are indicated about 91° W, so that on this reckoning the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> had already sailed more than 38 degrees of longitude into the continent.</p></note> many degrees to the eastward of our track, tho it is probable that he has put them down as far to the westward as he thought it possible that she could go.</p>
          <p>To streng[t]hen these weak arguments another Theory has been started which says that it is Nescessary that so much of the South sea as the authors of it call land should be so, otherwise this wor[l]d would not be properly bal[a]nc'd as the quantity of Earth known to be situated in the Northern hemisphere would not have a counterpoise in this. The number of square degrees of their land which we have already chang'd into water sufficiently disproves this, and teaches me at least that till we know how this globe is fixd in that place which has been since its creation assignd to it in the general system, we need not be anxious to give reasons how any one part of it counterbalances the rest.</p>
          <p>21. Calm this morn: went out in the boat and shot Tropick bird <hi rend="i">Phaeton erubescens</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-240" n="3"><p>The Red-tailed Tropic Bird. There is a painting by Parkinson, I, pl. 31, of one of these birds in flight, dated 1769. Solander's description bears this date but he does not refer to a painting. see pl. 6.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Procellaria atrata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn4-240" n="4"><p>Perhaps one of the Herald Petrels, <hi rend="i">Pterodroma arminjoniana heraldica</hi> (Salvin); Solander's description, p. 81, is suggestive of one of these birds in the dark phase.</p></note> <hi rend="i">velox</hi><note xml:id="fn5-240" n="5"><p>One of the gadfly petrels recorded by Solander; cf.15 February above.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">sordida.</hi> Took <hi rend="i">Turbo fluitans</hi><note xml:id="fn6-240" n="6"><p>? <hi rend="i">Janthina</hi> sp. There seem to be no drawings or descriptions of this gastropod, which can only doubtfully be assigned to this genus.</p></note> floating upon the water in the same manner as <hi rend="i">Helix Janthina, Medusa Porpita</hi> exactly like those taken on the other side of the continent,<note xml:id="fn7-240" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">Porpita porpita.</hi> See 20 September 1768.</p></note> and a small <hi rend="i">Cimex</hi>? which also was taken before
						<pb xml:id="n288" n="241"/>
						but appears to be a larva, if so probably of some animal that lives under water, as I saw many but none that appeard perfect tho they were enough so to propagate their species or copulate at least.<note xml:id="fn1-241" n="1"><p>Probably <hi rend="i">Halobates</hi> sp. Cf. 7 October 1768.</p></note> In examining the Phaetons found that what appeard to me a black crissus as they flew was no other than their black feet; on them was plenty of a very curious kind of <hi rend="i">acarus Phaetintis</hi><note xml:id="fn2-241" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">sic</hi>; Sol. MS <hi rend="i">Phaetontis. Alloptes phaetontis</hi> (Fabr.), a mite. See Parkinson III, pl. 3, and Solander, p. 291.</p></note> which either was or appeard to be viviparous.</p>
          <p>Besides what was shot today there were seen Man of war birds <hi rend="i">pelecanus aquilus</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-241" n="3"><p>Man-of-war or Frigate Birds belong to the genus <hi rend="i">Fregata</hi>, and have distinctive forked tails.</p></note> and a small bird of the Sterna? kind calld by the seamen egg birds, which were white with red beaks about the size of <hi rend="i">sterna hirundo</hi>.<note xml:id="fn4-241" n="4"><p>The terns may have been the Roseate Tern, <hi rend="i">Sterna dougalli</hi> Montagu, which is said to occur in this region. Egg Bird is a name generally applied by sailors to terns, and particularly to the Wideawake or Sooty Tern, <hi rend="i">Sterna fuscata.</hi></p></note> Of these I saw several just at night fall who flew very high and followd one another all standing towards the NNW; probably there is land on that point as we were now not far from the Lat and Longitude in which Quiros saw his southermost Islands Incarnation and S<hi rend="sup">t</hi> J<hi rend="sup">no</hi> Baptist.<note xml:id="fn5-241" n="5"><p>Quiros came on these islands when outward bound in January 1606. His La Encarnacion, now called Ducie island, lies in lat. 24° 40’ S, long. 124° 48’ W; his San Juan Batista, or Henderson, in lat. 24° 22’ S, long. 128° 18’ W—about 190 miles westward of Ducie. Dalrymple, from whom Banks probably worked, in his <hi rend="i">Account of the Discoveries</hi>, pp. 20–1, gives the position of La Encarnacion as 25° S, 146° 9’ W, and of San Juan Batista as two days’ sail to the westward of it. Cook's position for this day was lat. 25° 21’ S, long. 129° 28’ W.</p></note></p>
          <p>22. Fresh breeze of wind today, the ship layd no better than west so we were forcd to give over our hopes on the NNW point.<note xml:id="fn6-241" n="6"><p>i.e. of sighting the land which the flight of birds the previous evening had indicated. The birds were no doubt flying to one of the eastern Tuamotus.</p></note> Many man of war birds were about the ship today and some egg birds, I shot 3 of the first but none of them fell onboard the ship. All today the weather very hot and damp, Thermometer 80, which it never was at sea before except in the calms under the line.</p>
          <p>23. Most troublesome weather, calms and squalls with very heavy rain but the wind will not stirr. Many Egg birds seen today and some few Tropick.</p>
          <p>24. Blew fresh still, wind as foul as ever. The officer of the watch reported that in the middle watch the water from being roughish became on a sudden as smooth as a mill pond, so that the ship from going only 4 knotts at once increasd to six, tho there was little or no more wind than before this, and a log of wood which
						<pb xml:id="n289" n="242"/>
						was seen to pass by the ship by several people made them beleive that there was land to windward.<note xml:id="fn1-242" n="1"><p>Cook notes his feelings at this indication of land, which he did not see himself (it passed, or was thought to pass, the ship, about 3 AM) in his own journal for 24 March: he did not think himself at liberty to search for land he was not sure to find. On this point, and Dalrymple's criticism, see my note, Cook I, p. 66, n. 3.</p></note></p>
          <p>At 8 when I came on deck the signs were all gone, I saw however two birds which seemed to be of the sterna? kind both very small, one quite white and another quite black<note xml:id="fn2-242" n="2"><p>The former was possibly the White Tern, <hi rend="i">Gygis alba</hi> Sparrman, or perhaps the Marquesan White Tern, a small race of the same species. There are no very small black terns; the White-capped Noddy, <hi rend="i">Anous minutus</hi> (Boie) is 13–14 inches long and breeds in the Tuamotus. See also Banks's note about terns on 4 April 1769.</p></note> who from their appearance probably could not venture far from Land.</p>
          <p>Today by our reckoning we crossed the tropick.<note xml:id="fn3-242" n="3"><p>The Tropic of Capricorn. Cook gives his latitude for March 24 as 23° 23’ S, and for March 25 as 22° 11’ S.</p></note></p>
          <p>25. Wind continued much the same but more moderate, few or no birds were about the ship but some sea weed was seen by some of the people, only one bed.</p>
          <p>This even one of our marines threw himself overboard and was not miss'd till it was much too late even to attempt to recover him. He was a very young man scarce 21 years of age, remarkably quiet and industrious, and to make his exit the more melancholy was drove to the rash resolution by an accident so trifling that it must appear incredible to every body who is not well accquainted with the powerfull effects that shame can work upon young minds.</p>
          <p>This day at noon he was sentry at the Cabbin door and while he was on that duty one of the Capt<hi rend="sup">8</hi> servants being calld away in a hurry left a peice of seal skin in his charge, which it seems he was going to cut up to make tobacco pouches some of which he had promisd to several of the men; the poor young fellow it seems had several times askd him for one, and when refus'd had told him that since he refusd him so trifling a thing he would if he could steal one from him, this he put in practise as soon as the skin was given into his charge and was of course found out immediately as the other returnd, who was angry and took the peice he had cut off from him but declard he would not complain to the officers for so trifling a cause.</p>
          <p>In the mean time the fact came to the ears of his fellow soldiers, who stood up for the honour of their Core 13 in number so highly that before night, for this hapned at noon, they drove the young fellow almost mad by representing his crime in the blackest coulours as a breach of trust of the worst consequence: a theft committed
						<pb xml:id="n290" n="243"/>
						by a sentry upon duty they made him think an inexcusable crime, especialy when the thing stole was given into his charge: the Sargeant particularly declard that if the person acgreivd would not complain he would, for people should not suffer scandal from the ill behaviour of one. This affected the young fellow much, he went to his hammock, soon after the Sargeant went to him calld him and told him to follow him upon deck. He got up and slipping the Sargeant went forward, it was dusk and the people thought he was gone to the head and were not convincd that he was gone over till half an hour after it hapned.<note xml:id="fn1-243" n="1"><p>This unfortunate young man was William Greenslade.</p></note></p>
          <p>26. This whole day calms succeeded by hard squalls with much rain, which weather the seamen call trolly lollys; the wind went more than once round the Compass which made us hope that we were near the trade at least. Few or no birds and no tropick birds.</p>
          <p>27. Weather much like yesterday, no birds, at night a little more setled.</p>
          <p>28. Calm today: one tropick bird was seen this morn. After dinner a Shark came the first we had seen in these seas, he greedily took the bait but the line being old broke, very soon he however returnd with the hook and chain hanging out of his mouth but would not take the second bait.</p>
          <p>29. Calm again. Bent a new shark line in the even a shark alongside took the bait but broke the new line just as we were going to hoist him in, I am told by the people that common fishing line will never last above a year if ever so much care is taken of it.</p>
          <p>30. Some birds and bonitos seen this morn but none after I came upon deck.</p>
          <p>31. Pleasant breeze of wind which is the trade: some few tropick birds seen this morn. Myself not quite well a little inflammation in my throat and swelling of the glands.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d5-d9" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">April</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. Something better today. As my complaint has something in it that at least putts me in mind of the scurvy I took up the lemon Juice put up by D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hulmes direction<note xml:id="fn2-243" n="2"><p>See Hulme's letter to Banks, Appendix, II, p. 301 below. <name type="person" key="name-401799">Nathaniel Hulme</name> (1732–1807) joined the navy as a surgeon's mate in 1755, and his observations and reflections on the common ill of seamen, scurvy, provided the groundwork for his thesis for his Edinburgh M.D. (1765), <hi rend="i">De Scorbuto</hi>. He expanded this in a Latin essay of 1768 on scurvy, which had an appendix in English on the benefits of lime—i.e. lemon—juice on long voyages, showing that this had been familiar to the English since the sixteenth century. Nevertheless lime juice proper, as later used, did not become a common precaution on ships till the nineteenth century. Cook set more store on wort of malt and on fresh food generally. Hulme held important medical posts and was elected F.R.S. in 1794.</p></note> and found that which was
						<pb xml:id="n291" n="244"/>
						concentrated by evaporating 6 Gall<hi rend="sup">s</hi> into less than 2 has kept well as any thing could do. The small Cagg in which was lemon juice with one fifth of brandy was also very good tho large part of it had leak'd out by some fault in the Cagg; this therefore I began to make use of immediately drinking very weak punch made with it for my common liquor.</p>
          <p>2. Many birds today about noon passd by the ship making a noise something like gulls, they were black upon the back and white under the belly probably of the sterna kind;<note xml:id="fn1-244" n="1"><p>Probably a flock of Wideawake or Sooty Terns, <hi rend="i">Sterna fuscata.</hi> This is confirmed by Cook's remarks on these birds ‘—a large flock of Birds, they had brown backs and white bellies they fly and make a noise like Stearings [an old name for the Arctic Tern] and are shaped like them only something larger’.—Cook I, p. 68.</p></note> in company with them were 20 or 30 Men of war birds soaring over the flock, probably the whole were in pursuit of a shoal of fish.</p>
          <p>3. Several of the same kinds of birds seen today as were seen yesterday, also many Egg-birds; the trade continued to blow fresh with very pleasant weather.</p>
          <p>4. At 10 this morn my servant <name type="person" key="name-401998">Peter Briscoe</name> saw the Land which we had almost passd by, we stood towards it and found it to be a small Island (Lagoon Island)<note xml:id="fn2-244" n="2"><p>The ship was passing through the Tuamotus. The land bore south, says Cook, distant three or four leagues; its native name is Vahitahi.</p></note> about 1½ or 2 miles in lengh. Those who were upon the topmast head distinguishd it to be nearly circular and to have a Lagoon or pool of water in the middle which occupied much the largest part of the Island. About noon we were Close to it within a mile or thereabouts and distinctly saw inhabitants upon it of whoom we counted 24. They appeard to us through our glasses to be tall and to have very large heads or possibly much hair upon them, 11 of them walkd along the beach abreast of the ship with each a pole or pike as long again as himself in his hand and every one of them stark naked and appearing of a brown copper colour; as soon however as the ship had fairly pass'd the Island they retird higher up on the beach and seemd to put on some cloaths or at least cover themselves with something which made them appear of a light colour.</p>
          <p>The Island was coverd with trees of many very different verdures; the Palms or Cocoa nut trees we could plainly distinguish particularly two that were amazingly taller than their fellows and at a distance bore a great resemblance to a flag. The land seemd all very low
						<pb xml:id="n292"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP009a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP009a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP009a-g"/><head>Pl. III. <hi rend="i">Berberis ilicifolia</hi><lb/>
								Tierra del Fuego</head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n293"/>
						<pb xml:id="n294" n="245"/>
						tho at a distance several parts of it appeard high yet when we came near them they provd to be clumps of Palms. Under the shade of these were the houses of the natives in places cleard of all underwood so that pleasanter groves can not be imagind, at least so they appeard to us whose eyes had so long been unus'd to any other objects than water and sky.</p>
          <p>After dinner land was again seen which we came up with at sunset; it provd a small Island not more than £¾ of a mile in lengh but almost round,<note xml:id="fn1-245" n="1"><p>Banks notes the name in his margin, ‘Thrum cap’. It was Aki Aki. The name Thrum Cap was conferred by Cook because of its shape and the shaggy appearance it was given by palms and bushes. Thrums were the end-pieces sticking out in rough weaving; to thrum, in nautical speech, was to fasten bunches of rope yarn over a sail or mat, for the purpose, e.g., of stopping a leak.</p></note> we ran within less than a mile of it but saw no signs of inhabitants nor any Cocoa nut trees, or indeed any that bore the least resemblance to Palms tho there were many sorts of trees or at least many varieties of verdure.</p>
          <p>In the neighbourhood of both this and the other Island were many birds, man of war birds and a small black sort of <hi rend="i">sterna</hi>? with a white spot on his head which the seamen calld Noddies<note xml:id="fn2-245" n="2"><p>The White-capped Noddy, <hi rend="i">Anous minutus.</hi></p></note> but said that they were much smaller than the West Indian Noddies.</p>
          <p>While we were near the Island a large fish was taken with a towing line baited with a peice of Pork rind cut like a swallows tail
						<figure xml:id="Bea01Bank245a"><graphic url="Bea01Bank245a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01Bank245a-g"/></figure>
						the seamen calld it a King fish <hi rend="i">Scomber lanceolatus.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-245" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Acanthocybium solandri</hi> (Cuv. and Val.). Cuvier and Valenciennes in their <hi rend="i">Hist. Nat. Poiss.</hi> 8, p. 192, founded the species on the description of this fish by Solander, pp. 267–8; they make no reference to Parkinson's painting of it (II, pl. 87).</p></note></p>
          <p>5. Less wind this morn than yesterday with some showers of rain. While we were at dinner word was brought down that there was land in sight from the mast head, and found it a low Island but of much greater extent than either of those seen yesterday being from 10 to 15 leagues in circumference. Myself remaind at the mast head the whole evening admiring its extrordinary structure: in shape it appeard to be like a bow the wood and string of which was land<note xml:id="fn4-245" n="4"><p>Marginal note ‘Bow Island’; Hao. It was seen first by Bougainville, who called it <hi rend="i">La Harpe.</hi></p></note> and the parts within occupied by a large lake of water, which bore about the same proportion to the land as the void space within the bow does to the string and wood. The string of the bow was a flat beach without any signs of vegetation on it but heaps of sea weed laying in ridges as higher or lower tides had left them; this was 3 or 4 Leagues long and appeard not more than
						<pb xml:id="n295" n="246"/>
						200 yards wide in any part tho doubtless as flat objects foreshorten themselves so much it might be much more. The Horns or angles of the bow were two large tufts of Cocoa nut trees and much the largest part of its arch was filld up likewise with trees of different hights and appearances, a small part of it however was in my opinion low and like the string. Here some thought there was an opening into the Pool in the center and myself cannot say there was not, indeed it was at so great a distance that all must be conjecture.<note xml:id="fn1-246" n="1"><p>The conjecture that there was an opening through the northern reef was right: it is the Kaki pass, very narrow, and certainly hardly to be seen distinctly from the ship.</p></note></p>
          <p>Along the low beach or bowstring we saild within less than a league of the shore till sunsett when we judg'd ourselves about half way between the two horns, we then brought too and sounded, 130 fathom of line out and no ground; night which came on here almost instantly after sunset made us lose sight of the land before the line was well hauld in. We then steerd by the sound of the breakers which were very distinctly heard in the ship till we were clear of all.</p>
          <p>That this land was inhabited appeard clearly by three smoaks in different parts of the Island which we saw repeated several different times, probably as signals from one to the other of our aproach. Our 2<hi rend="sup">nd</hi> Lieutenant affirmed that he saw from the deck many inhabitants in the first clump of Trees, that they were walking to and fro as if on their ordinary business without taking the least notice of the ship, he saw also many houses and Canoes hauld up under the trees. To this I only say that I did not see them or know that any one else had till the ship had passd the place £½ an hour.</p>
          <p>6. Pleasant breeze, at £½ past 11 land in sight again, at 3 came up with it, proved to be two distinct Islands with many small ones near them Joining by reefs under water.<note xml:id="fn2-246" n="2"><p>Marginal note, ‘the groups’. Called by Cook the Two Groups: Marokau to the north, Ravahere to the south. Banks's description which follows is much longer and more circumstantial than Cook's.</p></note></p>
          <p>The Islands themselves were long thin strips of land ranging in all directions sometime ten or more miles in lengh but never more than a quarter of a mile broad; upon them were many Cocoa nut and other trees and many inhabitants several of whoom came out in Canoes as far as the reefs but would not come without them; 6 particularly who for some time walkd along shore abreast of the ship, on our passing the end of the Island launchd two Canoes with great quickness and dexterity and 3 getting into each the[y] put off as we thought intending to come to us. The ship was brought
						<pb xml:id="n296" n="247"/>
						to and we waited some time but they like their fellows came no farther than the reef, where they stoppd and waited for two messengers who we saw dispatchd from the great canoes wading and swimming towards them along the reef, they met and after a council I suppose resolvd not to come off. The ship after waiting some time stood off and when 2 or 3 miles from the shore was followd by a canoe with a sail, but not thinking it worth while to bring too for her she soon gave over the chase and returnd to the reef.</p>
          <p>The people seemd as well as we could judge (who were a good £½ mile from the shore) to be about our size and well made, of a dark brown complexion, stark naked, wearing their hair tied back with a fillet which passd round their head and kept it sticking out behind like a bush. The greatest number of them carried in their hands two weapons, one a slender pole from 10 to 14 feet in lengh at one end of which was a small knob or point not unlike the point of a spear, the other not above 4 feet long made much like a paddle as possibly it was intended, for their canoes were very different in size. The two which we saw them launch seemd not intended to carry more than barely the 3 men who got into each of them, others there were which had 6 and some 7 men; one of these hoisted a sail which did not seem to reach above 6 feet high above the boat, this (as soon as they came to the reef and stoppd their boat) they took down and converted into a shed to shelter them from a small shower of rain which then fell. The Canoe which followd us to sea hoisted a sail not unlike an English lugsail and near as lofty as an English boat of the same size would have carried.</p>
          <p>The people on the shore made many signals but whether they meant to frighten us away or invite us ashore is dificult to tell: they wavd with their hands and seemd to beckon us to them but they were assembld together with clubs and staves as they would have done had they meant to oppose us. Their signs we answerd by waving our hats and shouting which they answerd by shouting again. Our situation made it very improper to try them farther, we wanted nothing, the Island was too trifling to be an object worth taking possession of; had we therefore out of mere curiosity hoisted out a boat and the natives by attacking us oblige us to destroy some of them the only reason we could give for it would be the desire of satisfying a useless curiosity. We shall soon by our connections with the inhabitants of Georges Island (who already know our strengh and if they do not love at least fear us) gain some knowledge of the customs of these savages; or possibly persuade one of them to come with us who may serve as an interpreter,
						<pb xml:id="n297" n="248"/>
						and give us an opportunity hereafter of landing where ever we please without running the risk of being obligd to commit the cruelties which the Spaniards and most others who have been in these seas have often brought themselves under the dreadfull nescessity of being guilty of, for guilty I must call it.</p>
          <p>7. This morn at day break Land in sight again, by 8 O'Clock came up with an Island made up like the last of narrow slips of land and reefs of rocks, the greatest part of the land lookd green and pleasant but it was without cocoa nut trees or any sign of inhabitants.<note xml:id="fn1-248" n="1"><p>Marginal note, ‘Bird Island’. Cook notes, ‘there is some wood upon it but no Inhabitants but birds and for this reason is call'd <hi rend="i">Bird Island’.</hi>—I, p. 72. It was Reitoru.</p></note></p>
          <p>I purposely omit to mention the size of these Islands as it is almost impossible to guess at, and very dificult to give an idea of the contents of narrow strips of land which run one within another as a ribband thrown carelessly down would do. If you measure the lengh of it, it 4 or 5 times exceeds the space of sea that it occupies, if the circumference, such land of 100 Leagues in circumference would scarce contain 100 square miles; if the Space of sea that they occupy you err as much, for of that 20, 40, nay sometimes 100 parts are sea for one of land, tho that sea is so shut in by banks and reefs that no ship can get into it.</p>
          <p>8. Pleasant breeze but we have as yet found the trade hardly so strong as it was in the Atlantick. At 2 O'Clock Land was seen from the masthead, the ship stands for it and about sunset came abreast of it distant 2 leagues. It prove'd an Island larger than any we had seen as it extended 6 or 7 leagues, it was every where coverd with plenty of large trees probably Cocoa nuts and it is also inhabited as<note xml:id="fn2-248" n="2"><p>I substitute this <hi rend="i">as</hi> for Banks's &amp;. SP read &amp;.</p></note> we judge from a smoak rising from among the trees; in everything it appeard exactly of the same nature with the rest which we have seen.<note xml:id="fn3-248" n="3"><p>Marginal note, ‘Chain Island’. Anaa.</p></note> We could plainly distinguish it in some places broken off into reefs behind which we saw distant land and thence judg'd that there was a lagoon within it; the land however appeard to be broader than any we had seen before.</p>
          <p>9. Fine weather and pleasant breeze. It is now almost night and time for me to wind up the clue<note xml:id="fn4-248" n="4"><p>i.e. clew, a ball of thread or yarn.</p></note> of my this days lucubrations, so as we have found no Island I shall employ the time and paper which I had allotted to describe one in a work which I am sure will be more usefull at,<note xml:id="fn5-248" n="5"><p><hi rend="i">sic</hi>; perhaps a slip for <hi rend="i">to.</hi> S <hi rend="i">at</hi> P <hi rend="i">at</hi>.</p></note> if not more entertaining to all future
						<pb xml:id="n298" n="249"/>
						navigators, by describing the method which we took to cure Cabbage in England; which Cabbage we have eat every day since we left Cape Horne and have now good store of, remaining as good at least to our palates and full as green and pleasing to the eye as if it was bought fresh every morning at Covent Garden market. Our Steward has given me the receipt which I shall copy exactly false spelling exceptd.<note xml:id="fn1-249" n="1"><p>This pickled cabbage is not to be confused with the <hi rend="i">sauerkraut</hi> on which Cook set such store as a preservative of health.</p></note></p>
          <p>Take a strong Iron bound cask for no weak or wooden bound one should ever be trusted in a long voyage, take out the head and when the whole is well cleand cover the bottom with salt. Then take the Cabbage and stripping off the outside leaves take the rest leaf by leaf till you come to the heart which cut into four; these leaves and heart lay upon the Salt about 2 or 3 inches thick and sprinkle Salt pretty thick over them and lay cabbage upon the salt stratum super thick till the cask is full. Then lay on the head of the cask with a weight which in 5 or 6 days will have pressd the cabbage into a much smaller compass. After this fill up the cask with more cabbage as before directed and Head it up. N.B. the Cabbage should be gatherd in dry weather some time after sun rise that the dew may not be upon it. Halves of cabbages are better for keeping than single leaves.</p>
          <p>10. Last night a halo was observ'd round the moon which was followd by a very disagreable night, the wind being all round the compass and sometimes blowing very fresh with severe thunder and lightning and very heavy rain.</p>
          <p>This morning the wind from N to NW, the weather very hazey and thick. About 9 it cleard up a little and showd us Osnabrug Island<note xml:id="fn2-249" n="2"><p>Spelt <hi rend="i">Osnabrugh</hi> in the margin, and by Cook Osnaburg. The name was given by Wallis, who discovered it in 1767; Bougainville called it <hi rend="i">Le Boudoir</hi>. Mehetia or Maitea.</p></note> discoverd by the <name key="name-400642" type="ship">Dolphin</name> in her last voyage, it was distant about 6 leagues and appeard like a very short cone. Very light winds NW. About one land was seen ahead in the direction of Georges Land, it was however so faint that very few could see it. Soon after it was seen off the deck in the same faint manner but appearing high. Our distance when it was first seen was 25 leagues. At sun set the ship was nearly abreast Osnabrug Island 2 or 3 leagues from it, it appeard to have many trees upon it but in some parts the rocks were quite bare.</p>
          <p>At this time it remaind in dispute whether what had been so long seen to the Westward was realy land or only vapours; myself
						<pb xml:id="n299" n="250"/>
						went to the Masthead but the sunset was cloudy and we could see nothing of it.</p>
          <p>As soon as I came down a shark att the stern attackd the net in which tomorrows dinner was towing to freshen, we hookd and took him just as it became dark.</p>
          <p>11. Up at 5 this morn to examine the shark who proves to be A blew Shark <hi rend="i">Squalus glaucus</hi><note xml:id="fn1-250" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Prionace glauca.</hi> There are two signed and dated paintings by Parkinson, I, pls. 49, 50, of this fish.</p></note> while we were doing it 3 more came under the Stern of which we soon caught 2 which were common grey Sharks <hi rend="i">Squalus Carcharias</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-250" n="2"><p>Now <hi rend="i">Carcharodon carcharias.</hi> This species had been taken in the Atlantic; cf. September 29, 1768.</p></note> on one of whom were some sucking fish <hi rend="i">Echinus remora</hi>.<note xml:id="fn3-250" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">Remora remora</hi>.</p></note> The seamen tell us that the blew shark is worst of all sharks to eat, indeed his smell is abominably strong so as we had two of the better sort he was hove overboard.</p>
          <p>Little wind and variable with Squalls from all points of the Compass bringing heavy rain. Georges Island in sight appearing very high in the same direction as the land was seen last night, so I found the fault was in our eyes yesterday tho the non-seers were much more numerous in the ship than the seers.</p>
          <p>Today and yesterday many birds were about the ship among which a bird which I took to be the common tropick bird <hi rend="i">Phaeton æthereus</hi> was one, he was about the size of our tropick bird but differd from him in having black barrs upon his back and the long feathers in his tail white,<note xml:id="fn4-250" n="4"><p>The White-tailed Tropic Bird; when immature these birds have crescentic black bars on their upper parts.</p></note> so much I say<note xml:id="fn5-250" n="5"><p>The MS is a mixture of <hi rend="i">saw</hi> and <hi rend="i">say.</hi> S <hi rend="i">say</hi>, P <hi rend="i">say.</hi></p></note> but the weather was so uncertain that I could not go out to shoot one.</p>
          <p>Calm this even, at sunset Georges Land appeard plain tho we had not neard it much: since the clouds went from the tops of the hills it appeard less high than it did tho it certainly is very high.</p>
          <p>As I am now on the brink of going ashore after a long passage thank god in as good health as man can be I shall fill a little paper in describing the means which I have taken to prevent the scurvy in particular.</p>
          <p>The ship was supplyd by the Admiralty with Sower crout which I eat of constantly till our salted Cabbage was opend which I preferd as a pleasant substitute. Wort<note xml:id="fn6-250" n="6"><p>This was a decoction of malt, used as a standard remedy for scurvy: ‘the Sanguine and well-grounded expectations of the certain efficacy the Wort possesses to cure the Sea-scurvy and the very great probability of that distemper raging at some time or other in the course of a long voyage induced, I apprehend, the R<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Honour<hi rend="sup">b10</hi> the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty to send out a quantity of Malt in the <hi rend="i">Endeavour</hi> …’.— <name type="person" key="name-160027">William Perry</name> the surgeon reporting to Cook at the end of the voyage, end. in Cook to Stephens, 12 July 1771, P.R.O. Adm 1/1609.</p></note> was servd out almost <choice><orig>con-
							<pb xml:id="n300" n="251"/>
							tantly</orig><reg>contantly</reg></choice>, of this I drank from a pint or more every evening but all this did not so intirely check the distemper as to prevent my feeling some small effects of it. About a fortnight ago my gums swelld and some small pimples rose in the inside of my mouth which threatned to become ulcers, I then flew to the lemon Juice which had been put up for me according to D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hulmes method describd in his book and in his letter which is inserted here:<note xml:id="fn1-251" n="1"><p>Banks had Hulme's letter bound up in his journal at this point: see p. 243, n. 2 above, and Appendix, II, p. 301.</p></note> every kind of liquor which I usd was made sour with the Lemon juice N° 3 so that I took near 6 ounces a day of it. The effect of this was surprizing, in less than a week my gums became as firm as ever and at this time I am troubled with nothing but a few pimples on my face which have not deterrd me from leaving off the juice intirely.</p>
          <p>12. Very nearly calm all last night, Georges Land was now but little nearer to us than last night, the tops of the hills were wrap'd in clouds. About 7 a small breze sprung up and we saw some Canoes coming off to us, by ten or eleven they were up with us. I forbear to say any thing about either people or canoes as I shall have so many better opportunities of observing them: we however bought their cargoes consisting of fruits and cocoa nuts which were very acceptable to us after our long passage.</p>
        </div>
      </div>
      <pb xml:id="n301" n="252"/>
      <div xml:id="t1-body-d6" type="section">
        <head>II</head>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d6-d1" n="- April 1769">
          <p>13. This morn early came to an anchor in Port Royal bay<note xml:id="fn1-252" n="1"><p>Matavai Bay. <name key="name-402255" type="place">Port Royal</name>, Royal Bay, Port Royal Bay were names bequeathed by Wallis's expedition; but Cook always used a native name if he could.</p></note> King George the thirds Island. Before the anchor was down we were surrounded by a large number of Canoes who traded very quietly and civily, for beads cheifly, in exchange for which they gave Cocoa nuts Bread fruit both roasted and raw some small fish and apples. They had one pig with them which they refus'd to sell for nails upon any account but repeatedly offerd it for a hatchet; of these we had very few on board so thought it better to let the pig go away than to give one of them in exchange, knowing from the authority of those who had been here before that if we once did it they would never lower their price. As soon as the anchors were well down the boats were hoisted out and we all went ashore where we were met by some hundreds of the inhabitants whose faces at least gave evident signs that we were not unwelcome guests, tho they at first hardly dare aproach us, after a little time they became very familiar. The first who aproachd us came creeping almost on his hands and knees and gave us a green bough<note xml:id="fn2-252" n="2"><p>A plantain or banana frond.</p></note> the token of peace, this we receivd and immediately each gatherd a green bough and carried in our hands. They march'd with us about £½ a mile then made a general stop and scraping the ground clean from the plants that grew upon it every one of the principals threw his bough down upon the bare place and made signs that we should do the same: the marines were drawn up and marching in order dropd each a bough upon those that the Indians had laid down, we all folowd their example and thus peace was concluded. We then walkd into the woods followd by the whole train to whoom we gave beads and small presents. In this manner we walkd for 4 or 5 miles under groves of Cocoa nut and bread fruit trees loaded with a protusion of fruit and giving the most gratefull shade I have ever experienced, under these were the habitations of the people most of them without walls: in short the scene we saw was the truest picture of an arcadia of which we were going to be kings that the imagination can form.</p>
          <p>Our pleasure in seeing this was however not a little allayd by finding in all our walk only 2 hogs and not one fowl. The Dolphins
						<pb xml:id="n302" n="253"/>
						people who were with us told us that the people who we saw were only of the common sort and that the bettermost had certainly removd, as a proof of this they took us to the place where the Queens palace formerly stood of which there was no traces left.<note xml:id="fn1-253" n="1"><p>The ‘Queen's palace’ was evidently the guest-house or ‘arioi-house’, of the Haapape district, the place of general entertainment, to which Wallis was taken on his visit to Purea on 12 July 1767. It was of course not a palace, nor did it belong to Purea, nor was she the ‘Queen’.</p></note> We howev[e]r resolved not to be discouraged at this but to proceed tomorrow morning in search of the place to which these superior people had retreated, in hopes to make the same peace with them as we have done with our freinds the blackguards.<note xml:id="fn2-253" n="2"><p>‘Blackguards’ in the old sense of servants, camp-followers, the lower classes or ‘common sort’ generally.</p></note></p>
          <p>14. This morn several Canoas came on board among which were two in which were people who by their dress and appearance seemd to be of a rank superior to those who we had seen yesterday. These we invited to come on board and on coming into the Cabbin each singled out his freind,<note xml:id="fn3-253" n="3"><p>Friend, i.e. <hi rend="i">taio</hi>, a word used to signify an attachment formal as well as warm—almost a ‘blood-brother’ though without the ceremony of blood.</p></note> one took the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> and the other me, they took off a large part of their cloaths and each dress'd his freind with them he took off: in return for this we presented them with each a hatchet and some beads. They made many signs to us desiring us to go the place where they livd to the SW of where we lay; the boats were hoisted out and we took them with us and immediately proceeded according to their directions.</p>
          <p>After rowing about a league they beckon'd us in shore and shewd us a long house where they gave us to understand that they livd; here we landed and were met by some hundreds of inhabitants who conducted us into the long house.<note xml:id="fn4-253" n="4"><p>This seems to have been the <hi rend="i">arioi</hi>-house at Point Utuhaihai (the site of the tomb of <name key="name-402297" type="person">Pomare V</name>) where the chief Tuteha had a <hi rend="i">marae.</hi></p></note> Matts were spread and we were desired to set down fronting an old man<note xml:id="fn5-253" n="5"><p>Marginal note to these words, ‘Dootahah’. This note, like others, was obviously written in later, because it is not till 28 April that Banks registers the discovery of Tuteha's correct name.</p></note> who we had not before seen, he immediately orderd a cock and hen to be brought which were presented to Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cook and me, we accepted of the present. Then a peice of Cloth was presented to each of us perfumd after their manner not disagreably which they took great pains to make us understand. My peice of Cloth was 11 yards long and 2 wide: for this I made return by presenting him with a large lacd silk neckcloth I had on and a linnen pocket handkercheif, these he immediately put on him and seemd to be much pleasd with.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n303" n="254"/>
          <p>
            <figure xml:id="Bea01Bank254a">
              <graphic url="Bea01Bank254a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01Bank254a-g"/>
            </figure>
          </p>
          <p>After this ceremony was over we walkd freely about several large houses attended by the ladies who shewd us all kind of civilities our situation could admit of, but as there were no places of retirement, the houses being intirely without walls, we had not an opportunity of putting their politeness to every test that maybe some of us would not have faild to have done had circumstances been more favourable; indeed we had no reason to doubt any part of their politeness, as by their frequently pointing to the matts on the ground and sometimes by force seating themselves and us upon them they plainly shewd that they were much less jealous of observation than we were.</p>
          <p>We now took our leave of our freindly cheif and proceeded along shore for about a mile when we were met by a throng of people at the head of whoom appeard another cheif.<note xml:id="fn1-254" n="1"><p>Marginal note, ‘Tubourai Tamaide’. Sec p. 265, n. 2 below.</p></note> We had learn'd the ceremony we were to go through which was to receive the green bough which was always brough[t] to us at every fresh
						<pb xml:id="n304" n="255"/>
						meeting and to ratifie the peace of which that was the emblem by laying our hands on our breasts and saying Taio, which I imagine signifies freind. The bough was here offerd and accepted and in return every one of us said Taio. The cheif then made us signs that if we chose to eat he had victuals ready: we accepted the offer and dind heartily on fish and bread fruit with plantains &amp;c dressd after their way, raw fish was offerd to us which it seems they themselves eat. The adventures of this entertainment I much wish to record particularly, but am so much hurried by attending the Indians ashore almost all day long that I fear I shall scarce understand my own language when I read it again.</p>
          <p>Our cheifs own wife<note xml:id="fn1-255" n="1"><p>Marginal note, ‘Tomio’.</p></note> (ugly enough in conscience) did me the honour with very little invitation to squat down on the mats close by me: no sooner had she done so than I espied among the common croud a very pretty girl with a fire in her eyes that I had not before seen in the countrey. Unconscious of the dignity of my companion I beckond to the other who after some intreatys came and sat on the other side of me: I was then desirous of getting rid of my former companion so I ceas'd to attend to her and loaded my pretty girl with beads and every present I could think pleasing to her: the other shewd much disgust but did not quit her place and continued to supply me with fish and cocoa nut milk. How this would have ended is hard to say, it was interupted by an accident which gave us an opportunity of seeing much of the peoples manners. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and another gentleman<note xml:id="fn2-255" n="2"><p>Cook says this other gentleman was Monkhouse, the surgeon.</p></note> who had not been in as good company as myself found that their pockets had been pickd, one had lost a snuff box the other an opera glass.<note xml:id="fn3-255" n="3"><p>Cook says a spy glass, which seems more in keeping.</p></note> Complaint was made to the cheif, and to give it weight I started up from the ground and striking the but of my gun made a rattling noise which I had before used in our walk to frigh[t]en the people and keep them at a distance. Upon this as a signal every one of the common sort (among whom was my pretty girl) ran like sheep from the house leaving us with only the cheif his 3 wives and two or three better dressd than the rest whose quality I do not yet guess at. The cheif then took me by the hand to the other end of the house where lay a large quantity of their cloth, this he offerd to me peice by peice making signs that if it would make me amends I might take any part or all. I put it back and by signs told him that I wanted nothing but our own which his people had stole. On
						<pb xml:id="n305" n="256"/>
						this he gave me into charge of my faithfull companion his wife who had never budged an inch from my elbow; with her I sat down on the mat and convers'd by signs for near £½ an hour after which time he came back bringing the snuff box and the case of the opera glass, which with vast pleasure in his countenance he returnd to the owners, but his face soon changed when he was shewn that the case was empty which ought to have been full. He then took me by the hand and walkd along shore with great rapidity about a mile. By the way he receivd a peice of cloth from a woman which he carried in his hand. At last we came to a house in which we were receivd by a woman; to her he gave the cloth he had and told us to give her some beads. The cloth and beads were left on the floor by us and she went out, she stayd about £¼ of an hour and then returnd bringing the glass in her hand with a vast expression of joy on her countenance, for few faces have I seen which have more expression in them than those of these people. The beads were now returnd with a positive resolution of not accepting them and the Cloth was as resolutely forcd upon D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> <name key="name-131254" type="person">Solander</name> as a recompence for his loss. He then made a new present of beads to the lady and our ceremonies ended we returnd to the ship admiring a policy at least equal to any we had seen in civilizd countries, excercisd by people who have never had any advantage but meer natural instinct uninstructed by the example of any civilizd countrey.</p>
          <p>15. This morn we landed at the watering place<note xml:id="fn1-256" n="1"><p>This was on the bank of the Vaipopoo river, close to the end of Point Venus; the river ran parallel with the beach from about half-way along the bay.</p></note> bringing with us a small tent which we set up. In doing this we were attended by some hundreds of the natives who shewd a deference and respect to us which much amazd me. I myself drew a line before them with the butt end of my musquet and made signs to them to set down without it, they obeyd instantly and not a man attempted to set a foot within it, above two hours were spent so and not the least disorder being committed. We propos'd to walk into the woods and see if today we might not find more hoggs &amp;c. than when we last visited them supposing it probable that a part of them at least had been drove away on our arrival: this in particular tempted us to go away, with many other circumstances, as our old man (an Indian well known to the Dolphins)<note xml:id="fn2-256" n="2"><p>Banks has not previously mentioned this old man. Cook gives his name as Owhaa (? Faa, but he is often referred to as Hau); he appears to have been some sort of subchief, who was useful as an intermediary both to the <hi rend="i">Dolphin's</hi> people and in the first days of the <hi rend="i">Endeavour's</hi> visit.</p></note> attempted by many signs
						<pb xml:id="n306" n="257"/>
						to hinder us from going into the woods. The tent was left in charge of a Midshipman<note xml:id="fn1-257" n="1"><p><name type="person" key="name-401946">Jonathan Monkhouse</name>.</p></note> with the marines 13 in number. We marchd away and were absent above 2 hours. A little while before we came back we heard several musquet shots. Our old man immediately calld us together and by waving his hand sent away every Indian who followd us except 3 every one of whoom took in their hands a green bough: on this we suspected that some mischeif had happned at the tent and hastend home with all expedition. On our return we found that an Indian had snatchd a sentrys musquet from him unawares and run off; the midshipman (may be) imprudently orderd the marines to fire, they did fire into the thickest of the flying croud some hundreds in number several shot, and pursueing the man<note xml:id="fn2-257" n="2"><p>In a marginal note Banks gives the man's name as ‘Outou’. This may conceivably be correct; but he is rather more likely to have picked up the word <hi rend="i">utu</hi>, a price paid, reward, penalty—i.e. the man had paid with his life for the musket.</p></note> who stole the musquet killd him dead but whether any others were killd or hurt no one could tell. No Indian was now to be seen about the tent but our old man, who with us took all pains to reconcile them again; before night by his means we got together a few of them and explaining to them that the man who sufferd was guilty of a crime deserving of death (for so we were forcd to make it) we retird to the ship not well pleasd with the days expedition, guilty no doubt in some measure of the death of a man who the most severe laws of equity would not have condemnd to so severe a punishment.</p>
          <p>16. No canoes about the ship this morning, indeed we could not expect any as it is probable that the news of our behaviour yesterday was now known every where, a circumstance which will doubtless not increase the confidence of our freinds the Indians. We were rather surprizd that the Dolphins old man who seemd yesterday so desirous of making peace was not come on board today; some few people were upon the beach but very few in proportion to what we saw yesterday. At noon went ashore the people rather shy of us as we must expect them to be till by good usage we can gain anew their confidence.</p>
          <p>Poor M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan the young man who I brought out as lanscape and figure painter was yesterday attackd by an epileptick fit, he was today quite insensible, our surgeon gives me very little hopes of him.</p>
          <p>17. At two this morn M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Buchan died, about nine every thing was ready for his interment he being already so much changd
						<pb xml:id="n307" n="258"/>
						that it would not be practicable to keep him even till night. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Sporing M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Parkinson and some of the officers of the ship attended his funeral.<note xml:id="fn1-258" n="1"><p>It is curious that Banks does not mention the very sensible precaution he himself suggested: Cook writes, ‘M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Banks thought it not so adviseable to Enterr the Body a shore in a place where we was utter strangers to the Customs of the Natives on such Occations, it was therefore se[n]t out to Sea and commited to that Element with all the decencey the circumstance of the place would admit of’.—I, p. 81.</p></note> I sincerely regret him as an ingenious and good young man, but his Loss to me is irretrevable, my airy dreams of entertaining my freinds in England with the scenes that I am to see here are vanishd. No account of the figures and dresses of men can be satisfactory unless illustrated with figures: had providence spard him a month longer what an advantage would it have been to my undertaking but I must submit.</p>
          <p>Our two freinds the cheifs of the west came this morn to see us. One I shall for the future call Lycurgus from the justice he executed on his offending subjects on the 14<hi rend="sup">th</hi>, the other from the large size of his body I shall call Hercules.<note xml:id="fn2-258" n="2"><p>See below, p. 266.</p></note> Each of these brought a hog and bread fruit ready dressd as a present for which they were presented in return with a hatchet and a nail each. Hercules's present is the largest he seems indeed to be the richest man.</p>
          <p>In the afternoon we all went ashore to measure out the ground for the tents, which done Cap Cooke and M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green slept ashore in a tent erected for that purpose after having observd an eclipse of one of the satellites of Jupiter.</p>
          <p>18. This morn at day break all hands were ashore and employd in getting up the tents and making a defence round them. The ground we have pitchd upon is very sandy which makes it nescessary to support it with wood, for the doing of this our people cut the boughs of trees and the Indians very readily assisted them in bringing them down to the place. Three sides of our fort are to be thus guarded the other is bounded by a river on the banks of which water cask[s] are to be placd.</p>
          <p>The Indians brought down so much provision of Cocoa nuts and bread fruit today that before night we were obligd to leave off buying and acquaint them by signs that we should not want any more for 2 days; every thing was bought for beads, a bead about as large as a pea purchasing 4 or 6 breadfruits and a like number of Cocoa nutts.</p>
          <p>My tents were got up before night and I slept ashore in them for the first time. The lines were guarded round by many Sentries but no Indian atempted to come near them during the whole night.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n308" n="259"/>
          <p>19. This morn Lycurgus and his wife come to see us and bring with them all their household furniture and even houses to be erected in our neighbourhood, a circumstance which gave me great pleasure as I had spard no pains to gain the freindship of this man who seemd more sensible than any of his fellow cheifs we have seen. His behavior in this Instance makes us not doubt of having gaind his confidence at least.</p>
          <p>Soon after his arrival he took me by the hand and led me out of the lines, signing that I should accompany him into the woods, this I made no dificulty of dooing as I was desirous of knowing how near us he realy intended to settle. I followd him about a quarter of a mile when we arrivd at a small house or rather the awning of a canoe set upon the shore, which seemd to be his occasional habitation; here he unfolded a bundle of their cloaths and cloth'd me in two garments, one red cloth<note xml:id="fn1-259" n="1"><p>The cloth made of the bark of trees, called <hi rend="i">tapa.</hi></p></note> the other very pretty matting, after this we returnd to the tents. He eat pork and bread fruit which was brought him in a basket using salt water instead of sauce, and then retird into my bedchamber and slept about half an hour.</p>
          <p>About dinner time Lycurgus's wife brought a hansome young man about 22 to the tents whoom they both seemd to acknowledge as their son. At night he and another chief who had also visited us went away to the westward, but Lycurgus and his wife went towards the place I was at in the morning which makes us not doubt of their staying with us for the future.</p>
          <p>M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse our surgeon walkd this evening into the woods and brought back an account of having seen the body of the man who was shot on the 15<hi rend="sup">th</hi>. It was placd on a kind of Bier supported by stakes and coverd by a small hut which seemd to have been built for the purpose; the body was wrappd up in cloth and near it were plac'd war instruments a hatchet some hair a cocoa nut and a cup of water. Farther he did not examine on account of the stench of the body which was intolerable. They also [saw] two more huts of the same kind in one of which they saw the bones of the person who had lain there quite dry. A custom so new as this appears to be surprized us all very much, but whether all who die are thus disposd of or it is a peculiar honour shewn to those who dye in war is to be cleard up by future observation.</p>
          <p>20. Raind hard all this day at intervals, so much so that we could not stir at all, the people however went on briskly with the <choice><orig>forti-
							<pb xml:id="n309" n="260"/>
							fication</orig><reg>fortification</reg></choice> in spite of weather. Lycurgus dind with us, he imitates our manners in every instance already holding a knife and fork more handily than a Frenchman could learn to do in years. Notwistanding the rain some provisions are brought to the market which is kept just without the lines; indeed ever since we have been here we have had more breadfruit every day than both the people and hogs can eat, but in the pork way we have been so poorly supplyd that I beleive fresh pork has not been servd to the ships company above once.</p>
          <p>21. Several of our freinds at the tents this morn, one whoom from his grim countenance we have calld Ajax<note xml:id="fn1-260" n="1"><p>It does not seem possible to identify this person clearly. No doubt he was an <hi rend="i">arii</hi>; he may have been the huge chief later well known as Potatau, of Punaauia, though Potatau was generally regarded as affable rather than grim.</p></note> and at one time thought to be a great king. He had on his canoe a hog but he chose rather to sell it at the market than give it to us as a present; which we account for by his having in the morning receivd a shirt in return for a peice of cloth, which made him fear that had he given the hog it might have been taken into the bargain—a conduct very different from that of our freind Lycurgus who seems in every instance to place a most unbounded confidence in us.</p>
          <p>22. Pleasant weather, our freinds as usual come early to visit us, Hercules with two piggs and a Dolphins ax<note xml:id="fn2-260" n="2"><p>The <hi rend="i">Dolphin</hi> disposed of a number of axes in trade.</p></note> which he wishd to have repaird as it acordingly was. Lycurgus brought 2 large fish an acceptable present as that article has always been scarce with us. Trade brisk today; since our new manufacture of hatchets has been set on foot we get some hogs tho our tools are so small and bad that I only wonder how they can stand one stroke.</p>
          <p>The flies have been so troublesome ever since we have been ashore that we can scarce get any business done for them; they eat the painters colours off the paper as fast as they can be laid on, and if a fish is to be drawn there is more trouble in keeping them off it than in the drawing itself.</p>
          <p>Many expedients have been thought of, none succeed better than a mosquito net which covers table chair painter and drawings, but even that is not sufficent, a fly trap was nesscessary to set within this to atract the vermin from eating the colours. For that purpose yesterday tarr and molasses was mixt together but did not succeed. The plate smeard with it was left on the outside of the tent to clean: one of the Indians observing this took an opportunity when he thought that no one observd him to take some of this mixture up
						<pb xml:id="n310"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP010a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP010a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP010a-g"/><head>PI. IV. <hi rend="i">Hibiscus abelmoschus</hi><lb/>
								Tahiti</head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n311"/>
						<pb xml:id="n312" n="261"/>
						into his hand, I saw and was curious to know for what use it was intended, the gentleman had a large sore upon his backside to which this clammy liniament was applyd but with what success I never took the pains to enquire.</p>
          <p>Hercules gave us today a specimen of the musick of this countrey: 4 people performd upon flutes which they sounded with one nostril while they stopd the other with their thumbs, to these 4 more sang keeping very good time but during ½ an hour which we stayd with them they playd only one tune consisting of not more than 5 or 6 notes. More I am inclind to think they have not upon their instruments which have only two stops.</p>
          <p>23. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green and myself went today a little way upon the hills in order to see how the roads were. Lycurgus went with us but complaind much in the ascent saying that it would kill him. We found as far as we went, possibly 3 miles, exceeding good paths and at the farthest part of our walk boys bringing wood from the mountans, which we look upon to be a sure proof that journey will be easy whenever we atempt to go higher.</p>
          <p>In our return I visited the Tomb or Bier in which was deposited the body of the man who was shot. I lifted up the cloth and saw part of the body already dropping to peices with putrefaction about him and indeed within all parts of his flesh were abundance of maggots of a species of Beetle very common here<note xml:id="fn1-261" n="1"><p>Fabricius worked on Banks's insect collection but he does not, in his <hi rend="i">Species Insectorum</hi> (1781), describe any beetle which can be identified with this reference. Different kinds of maggots live in succession on decaying flesh as it ripens and alters.</p></note> Such an advance of putrefaction in 8 days for it was no more since he was shot is almost past credit but what will not a hot climate and plenty of insects do.</p>
          <p>We had this evening some conversation about an ax which was brought in the morning by Hercules, it wanting grinding. Its make was very different from that of our English ones, several gentlemen were of opinion that it was a French one, some went so far as to give it as their opinion that some other ship had been here since the Dolphin. The difficulty however appeard to me at least easily solvd by supposing axes to have been taken in the Dolphin as trade, in which case old ones might have been bought of the make of any countrey, for many such I suppose there are in every old iron shop in London.<note xml:id="fn2-261" n="2"><p>The axe under discussion must have been one of those traded by <name key="name-131266" type="person">Bougainville</name>, which had travelled from his anchorage at Hitiaa. The gentlemen who opposed Banks in the argument were right: another ship had been at Tahiti.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n313" n="262"/>
          <p>
            <figure xml:id="Bea01Bank262a">
              <graphic url="Bea01Bank262a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01Bank262a-g"/>
            </figure>
          </p>
          <pb xml:id="n314" n="263"/>
          <p>24. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself went along shore to the eastward in hopes of finding something worth observation by inlarging our ground. For about 2 miles the countrey within us was flat and fertile, the hills then came very near the waters edge and soon after quite into the sea so that we were obligd to climb over them. This barren countrey continued for about 3 miles more when we came to a large flat full of good houses and wealthy looking people; here was a river much more considerable than our own, it came out of a very deep and beautifull valley and was where we crossd it near 100 yards wide tho not quite at the sea.<note xml:id="fn1-263" n="1"><p>This was the Vaituoru river, flowing down the Haapaianoo (Whapaiano on Cook's chart) valley. Both the river and the valley, now known as Papenoo, were the largest on the island.</p></note> About a mile farther than this river we went when the Land became again as barren as possible, the rocks every where projecting into the sea, so we resolvd to return. Soon after this resolution one of the natives made us an offer of refreshment which we accepted. He was remarkable for being much the whitest man we had seen. On examining him more nearly his skin was dead pale without the least signs of Complexion in any part of it, some parts were lighter than others but the darkest was lighter than any of our skins, his hair and eyebrows and beard were as white as his skin, his eyes bloodshot, he apeard to be very short sighted, his whole body was scurfy and maybe disease had been the cause of his colour;<note xml:id="fn2-263" n="2"><p>This seems to have been a case of island albinoism, but the scurfy skin suggests that perhaps over-indulgence in the drink called [<hi rend="i">k</hi>]<hi rend="i">ava</hi> had something to do with it. Or it may have been what was called ‘chief's leprosy’, <hi rend="i">o'ovi arii.</hi></p></note> if not we shall see more such. In our return met Lycurgus who seem'd much rejoicd at seeing us as did all his women, to shew their regard I suppose they all cry'd most heartily.</p>
          <p>25. I do not know by what accident I have so long omitted to mention how much these people are given to theiving. I will make up for my neglect however today by saying that great and small cheifs and common men all are firmly of opinion that if they can once get possession of any thing it immediately becomes their own. This we were convincd of the very second day we were here, the cheifs were employd in stealing what they could in the Cabbin while their dependants took every thing that was loose about the ship, even the glass ports not escaping them of which they got off with 2. Lycurgus and Hercules were the only two who had not yet been found guilty, but they stood in our opinion but upon tickilish ground as we could not well suppose them intirely free from a vice their countrey men were so much given up to.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n315" n="264"/>
          <p>Last night D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander lent his knife to one of Lycurgus's women who forgot to return it, this morn mine was missing. I could give no account of it so resolvd to go to Lycurgus and ask him whether or not he had stole it trusting that if he had he would return it.</p>
          <p>I went and taxd him with it. He denyd knowing any thing concerning it, I told him I was resolvd to have it returnd. On this a man present produc'd a rag in which was tied up 3 knives, one was D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solanders the other a table knife the other no one laid claim to. With these he marchd to the tents to make restitution while I remaind with the women who much feard that he would be hurt; when come there he restord the two knives to their proper owners and began immediately to search for mine in all the places where he had ever seen it lay. One of my servants seeing what he was about brought it to him, he had it seems laid it by the day before and did not know of my missing it. Lycurgus then burst into tears making signs with my knife that if he was ever guilty of such an action he would submit to have his throat cut. He returnd immediately to me with a countenance sufficiently upbraiding me for my suspicions; the scene was immediately changd, I became the guilty and he the innocent person, his looks affected me much. A few presents and staying a little with him reconcild him intirely; his behavior has however given me an opinion of him much superior to any of his countreymen.</p>
          <p>26. Plenty of trade this morn indeed we have always had enough of bread fruit and cocoa nuts, refreshments maybe more nescessary for the people than pork tho they certainly do not like them so well.</p>
          <p>Our freinds as usual at the tents today but do nothing worthy record.</p>
          <p>27. The day passd as usual. Lycurgus and a freind of his (who eats most monstrously) dind with us, we christend him Epicurus.<note xml:id="fn1-264" n="1"><p>This person seems to be unidentifiable.</p></note> At night they took their leave and departed but Lycurgus soon returnd with fire in his eyes, seizd my arm and signd to me to follow him. I did and he soon brought me to a place where was our butcher, who he told me by signs had either threatned or atempted to cut his wives throat with a reaphook he had in his hand. I signd to him that the man should be punishd tomorrow if he would only clearly explain the offence, for he was so angry that his signs were almost unintelligible. He grew cooler and shewd
						<pb xml:id="n316" n="265"/>
						me that the Butcher had taken a fancy to a stone hatchet which lay in his house, this he offerd to purchase for a nail: His wife who was their refus'd to part with it upon which he took it and throwing down the nail threatned to cut her throat if she atempted to hinder him; in evidence of this the hatchet and nail were produc'd and the butcher had so little to say in his defence that no one doubted of his guilt. After this we parted and he appeard satisfied but did not forget to put me in mind of my promise that the butcher should tomorrow be punished.<note xml:id="fn1-265" n="1"><p>The butcher was <name type="person" key="name-401874">Henry Jeffs</name>. Cook does not mention this incident, but it is referred to by Molyneux the master, 29 April.</p></note></p>
          <p>This day we found that our freinds had names and they were not a little pleasd to discover that we had them likewise; for the future Lycurgus will be calld <hi rend="i">Tubourai tamaide</hi> and his wife <hi rend="i">Tomío</hi> and the three women who commonly come with him <hi rend="i">Tėrapo,Tėraru</hi> and <hi rend="i">Omíė.</hi><note xml:id="fn2-265" n="2"><p>Tubourai tamaide: Tepau i Ahurai Tamaiti. <hi rend="i">Tamaiti</hi>, the son. He was the eldest son of the <hi rend="i">arii</hi> Vaetua i Ahurai, chief of Faaa, and brother of Purea—an important chief. Molyneux gives his name as Tuburi, so he was probably habitually addressed by some shortened form. Cook Toobouratomita. Tomio, probably Tamaio; Banks later changes his spelling to Tamio. Terapo and Teraro are probably correct. Omie, Omae?</p></note> As for our names they make so poor a hand of pronouncing them that I fear we shall be obligd to take each of us a new one for the occasion.</p>
          <p>28. Many of our freinds were with us very early even before day, some strangers with them. Terapo was observd to be among the women on the outside of the gate, I went out to her and brought her in, tears stood in her eyes which the moment she enterd the tent began to flow plentifully. I began to enquire the cause; she instead of answering me took from under her garment a sharks tooth and struck it into her head with great force 6 or 7 times. a profusion of Blood followd these strokes and alarmd me not a little; for two or 3 minutes she bled freely more than a pint in quantity, during that time she talkd loud in a most melancholy tone. I was not a little movd at so singular a spectacle and holding her in my arms did not cease to enquire what might be the cause of so strange an action, she took no notice of me till the bleeding ceas'd nor did any Indian in the tent take any of her, all talkd and laugh'd as if nothing melancholy was going forward; but what surpriz'd me most of all was that as soon as the bleeding ceas'd she lookd up smiling and immediately began to collect peices of cloth which during her bleeding she had thrown down to catch the blood. These she carried away out of the tents and threw into the sea, carefully dispersing them abroad as if desirous that no one should
						<pb xml:id="n317" n="266"/>
						be reminded of her action by the sight of them; she then went into the river and after washing her whole body returnd to the tents as lively and chearfull as any one in them.<note xml:id="fn1-266" n="1"><p>This was undoubtedly a mourning ceremony, which might be indulged in at any time. Blood was a potent medium of psychic influence, therefore <hi rend="i">tapu</hi>, and must be safely disposed of.</p></note></p>
          <p>After breakfast M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Molineux came ashore and the moment he enterd the tent fixing his eyes upon a woman who was setting there declard her to be the Dolphins Queen, she also instantly acknowledg'd him to be a person who she had before seen.<note xml:id="fn2-266" n="2"><p>This was of course Purea, Wallis's Oborea.</p></note> Our attention was now intirely diverted from every other object to the examination of a personage we had heard so much spoken of in Europe: she appeard to be about 40, tall and very lusty, her skin white and her eyes full of meaning, she might have been hansome when young but now few or no traces of it were left.</p>
          <p>As soon as her majesties quality was known to us she was invited to go on board the ship, where no presents were spard that were thought to be agreable to her in consideration of the service she had been of to the Dolphin. Among other things a childs dol was given to her of which she seemd very fond. On her landing she met Hercules who for the future I shall call by his real name <hi rend="i">Tootahah</hi>.<note xml:id="fn3-266" n="3"><p>S has a note: 'Tootahah, spelt here; but in many other places Dootahah; both which mean the same Person. Indeed Tootahah is rather the properest manner of spelling it, as the sound of the t is more generally expressed in their language than the d’. Tuteha.</p></note> She shewd him her presents: he became uneasy nor was he satisfied till he had also got a doll given to him, which now he seemd to preferr to a hatchet that he had in return for presents, tho after this time the dolls were of no kind of value.<note xml:id="fn4-266" n="4"><p>Cook gives a very amusing account of this incident in his log—though not in his journal—which perhaps casts some light on the relations between these two important <hi rend="i">arii</hi>, as well as on a not to be suspected side of the character of Cook. See I, pp. 525–6.</p></note></p>
          <p>The men who visited us constantly eat with us of our provisions, but the women never had been prevaild on to taste a morsel; today however they retird sometime after dinner into the servants apartment and eat there a large quantity of plantains, tho they could not be persuaded to eat with us, a mystery we find it very dificult to account for.<note xml:id="fn5-266" n="5"><p>Eating <hi rend="i">tapu</hi> was stringent, and the sexes never ate together, or shared the same food. But it is plain that the women of a lower social class who came on board the ship found it convenient to eat whatever they could get in the 'servants’ apartment’, as long as they were not seen, or the adventure known, by their countrymen. After all, infringement of <hi rend="i">tapu</hi> did not necessarily have the same result in a European environment as in a Tahitian.</p></note></p>
          <p>29. My first business this morning was to see the promise I had made to Tubourai and Tomio of the butchers being punishd <choice><orig>per-
							<pb xml:id="n318" n="267"/>
							formd</orig><reg>performd</reg></choice>, a promise they had not faild to remind me of yesterday when the croud of people who were with us hinderd it from being performd. In consequence of this I took them on board of the ship where Cap<hi rend="sup">t</hi> Cooke immediately orderd the offender to be punishd; they stood quietly and saw him stripd and fastned to the rigging but as soon as the first blow was given interfered with many tears, begging the punishment might cease a request which the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> would not comply with.<note xml:id="fn1-267" n="1"><p>This is a good example of Cook's even-handed justice. Cf. Molyneux: ‘All hands being called, and the Prisoner being brought aft, the Captain explained the nature of his Crime in the most lively manner, and made a very Pathetick speech to the Ship's Company during his punishment. The woman was in the greatest agonies, and strongly interceded for him…’—Cook I, p. 554.</p></note></p>
          <p>On my return ashore I proceeded to pay a visit to her majesty <hi rend="i">Oborea</hi> [as] I shall for the future call her. She I was told was still asleep in her Canoe-awning, where I went intending to call up her majesty but was surprizd to find her in bed with a hansome lusty young man of about 25 whose name was <hi rend="i">Obadée</hi>.<note xml:id="fn2-267" n="2"><p>? Pati.</p></note> I however soon understood that he was her gallant a circumstance which she made not the least secret of.<note xml:id="fn3-267" n="3"><p>The marriage connection between Purea and Amo was by this time purely a matter of form, and both as an important <hi rend="i">arii</hi> and as an <hi rend="i">arioi</hi> large liberties were in order for her without any loss of respectability. They did not necessarily make her, as <name type="person" key="name-134492">William Wales</name> later referred to her, ‘an old demi-rep’. (Wales, <hi rend="i">Remarks on Mr. Forster's Account of Captain Cook's last Voyage round the World</hi>, 1778, p. 52 n.)</p></note> Upon my arrival Her majesty proceeded to put on her breeches<note xml:id="fn4-267" n="4"><p>Breeches, one supposes, in a metaphorical sense. He probably refers to the <hi rend="i">pareu</hi>, the skirt worn by both sexes, coming rather below the knees.</p></note> which done she clothd me in fine cloth and proceeded with me to the tents.</p>
          <p>At night I visited Tubourai as I often did by candle light and found him and all his family in a most melancholy mood: most of them shed tears so that I soon left them without being at all able to find out the cause of their greif. <hi rend="i">Ouwhá</hi> the Dolphins old man and another who we did not know had prophesied to some of our people that in 4 days we should fire our guns: this was the 4<hi rend="sup">th</hi> night and the circumstance of Tubourai crying over me as it was interpreted alarmd our officers a good deal. The sentrys are therefore doubled and we sleep tonight under arms.</p>
          <p>30. A very strict watch was kept last night as intended, at 2 in the morn myself went round the point, found every thing so quiet that I had no kind of doubts.</p>
          <p>Our little fortification is now compleat, it consists of high breastworks at each end, the front palisades and the rear guarded by the river on the bank of which are placd full Water cask[s], at every
						<pb xml:id="n319" n="268"/>
						angle is mounted a swivel and two carraige guns pointed the two ways by which the Indians might attack us out of the woods. Our sentrys are also as well releivd as they could be in the most regular fortification.</p>
          <p>About 10 Tomio came running to the tents, she seizd my hand and told me that Tubourai was dying and I must go instantly with her to his house. I went and Found him leaning his head against a post. He had vomited they said and he told me he should certainly dye in consequence of something our people had given him to eat, the remains of which were shewn me carefully wrapd up in a leaf. This upon examination I found to be a Chew of tobacco which he had begg'd of some of our people, and trying to imitate them in keeping it in his mouth as he saw them do had chewd it almost to powder swallowing his spittle. I was now master of his disease for which I prescribd cocoa nut milk which soon restor'd him to health.</p>
        </div>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d6-d2" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">May</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. This morn in walking round the point I saw a canoe which I suppose to have come from a distance by her having a quantity of fresh water in her in Bamboes; in every other respect she is quite like those we have seen, her people however are absolute strangers to us. Before noon our freinds visit us as usual and the day passed without any events.</p>
          <p>2. About 10 this morn the astronomical quadrant which had been brought ashore yesterday was miss'd, a circumstance which alarmd us all very much. It had been laid in Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cook's birth where no one slept, the telescopes were in my tent safe. Every place was searchd aboard and ashore but no such thing to be found. It appeard very improbable that the Indians could have carried so large a thing out of the tents without being observd by the sentries, our people might have stole [it] as it was packd up in a deal case and might by them be suppos'd to contain nails or some kind of traffick; a large reward was therefore offerd to any one who could find it and all hands sent out to search round the fort, upon a supposition that the Indians would immediately quit a prize that could be of so little use to them. In about an hour all returnd, no news of the Quadrant. I now went into the woods to get intelligence no longer doubting but that it was in the hands of the Indians. Tubourai met me crossing the river and immediately made with 3 straws in his hand the figure of a triangle: the Indians had opend the cases. No time was now to be lost; I made signs to
						<pb xml:id="n320" n="269"/>
						him that he must instantly go with me to the place where it was, he agreed and out we set acompanied by a midshipman and M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green, we went to the Eastward. At every house we went past Tubourai enquird after the theif by name, the people readily told him which way he had gone and how long ago it was since he pass'd by, a circumstance which gave great hopes of coming up with him. The weather was excessive hot, the Thermometer before we left the tents up at 91 made our journey very tiresome. Sometimes we walk'd sometimes we ran when we imagind (which we sometimes did) that the chase was just before us till we arrivd at the top of a hill about 4 miles from the tents: from this place Tubourai shew'd us a point about 3 miles off and made us understand that we were not to expect the instrument till we got there. We now considerd our situation, no arms among us but a pair of pocket pistols which I always carried, going at least 7 miles from our fort where the Indians might not be quite so submissive as at home, going also to take from them a prize for which they had venturd their lives. All this considerd we thought it proper that while M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green and myself proceeded the midshipman should return and desire cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke to send a party of men after us, telling him at the same time that it was impossible we could return till dark night. This done we proceeded and in the very spot Tubourai had mentiond were met by one of his own people bringing part of the Quadrant in his hand. We now stop'd and many Indians gatherd about us rather rudely, the sight of one of my pistols however instantly checkd them and they behav'd with all the order imaginable, tho we quickly had some hundreds surrounding a ring we had markd out on the grass. The box was now brought to us and some of the small matters such as reading glasses &amp;c. which in their hurry they had put into a pistol case, this I knew belongd to me, it had been stole out of the tents with a horse pistol in it which I immediately demanded and had immediately restord. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green began to overlook the Instrument to see if any part or parts were wanting, several small things were, and people were sent out in search of them some of which returnd and others did not; the stand was not there but that we were informd had been left behind by the theif and we should have it on our return, an answer which coming from Tubourai satisfied us very well; nothing else was wanting but what could easily be repaird so we pack'd all up in grass as well as we could and proceeded homewards. After walking about 2 miles we met Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke with a party of marines coming after us, all were you may imagine not a little pleasd at the event of our excursion.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n321" n="270"/>
          <p>The Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> on leaving the Tents left orders both for the ship and shore, which were that no canoes should be suffer'd to go out of the bay but that nobodys person should be seizd or detaind, as we rightly guessd that none of our freinds had any hand in the theft. These orders were obeyd by the 1<hi rend="sup">st</hi> Lieutenant who was ashore, but the second aboard seeing some canoes going along shore sent a boat to fetch them back; the boatswain commander did so and with them brought Dootahah, the rest of their crews leap'd overboard, he was sent ashore prisoner. The 1<hi rend="sup">st</hi> Lieutenant of course could not do less than confine him which he did to the infinite dissatisfaction of all the Indians, this we heard from them 2 miles before we reachd the tents on our return. Tubourai, Tomaio and every Indian that we let in Joind in lamenting over Dootahah with many tears. I arrivd about a quarter of an Hour before the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> during which time this scene lasted; as soon as he came he orderd him to be instantly set at liberty which done he walkd off sulky enough tho at his departure he presented us with a pig.</p>
          <p>3. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself who have all along acted in the capacity of market men attended this morn but no kind of provisions were brought, indeed few Indians appeard except the servants of Dootahah who very early took away his Canoe. Soon after <hi rend="i">Tubia</hi><note xml:id="fn1-270" n="1"><p><name key="name-101191" type="person">Tupaia</name>. This man, of considerable importance in the voyage, now comes into the story for the first time. He was an <hi rend="i">arii</hi> and priest of Raiatea, who, when driven from his possessions by invaders from Borabora, had arrived in Tahiti and become very influential with Purea—apparently her chief priest. He had survived the great defeat, and Tuteha, against whom he had actively plotted, let him alone. He was both able and knowledgeable.</p></note> (Obereas right hand man who was with her in the Dolphins time) came and overhauld every part of her canoe which had also been detaind, seemd satisfied with what he saw so much so that he would not take it away. About noon several fishing boats came abreast the tents, they however parted with very few fish. In the course of the whole day a small quantity of bread fruit was got cheifly in a present and 6 Cocoa nuts only were bought, a very disagreable change this from our former situation; we have now no cocoa nuts and not ¼ enough of bread fruit for the people, who have scarce ever before faild to turn away the latter from the market and purchase of the other from 3 to 400 a day.</p>
          <p>In the course of the day I went into the woods. The Indians were civil but every where complaind of the ill usage Dootahah had met with, they said that he had been beat and pulld by the hair; I endeavour'd all I could to convince them that no violence had been offerd to them but without success, I fear the Boatswain
						<pb xml:id="n322" n="271"/>
						has been rougher in his usage of him than he chuses to acknowledge. Tupia stayd with us all day and at night slept in Oboreas Canoe not without a bedfellow tho the gentleman cannot be less than 45.</p>
          <p>4. No trade this morn but a little fish so we are for the first time in distress for nescessaries. I went into the woods to Tubourai and perswauded him to give me 5 long baskets of bread fruit, a very seasonable supply as they contain above 120 fruits. A very few Indians appear today before the fort, fewer than yesterday. After dinner came a messenger from Dootahah requesting a shirt and a hatchet (he had been here yesterday with the same demand) I suppose in return for the hog he gave us on his release; the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> sent him back telling him that he would tomorrow visit him and bring the things himself. In the Evening I went into the woods, found the Indians as usual civil but complaining much of the treatment Dootahah had met with on the 2<hi rend="sup">nd</hi>.</p>
          <p>5. This morn <hi rend="i">Obadée</hi> (her majesties bedfellow) came pretty early to visit us or rather himself to take a view of her canoe. He carefully overhauld every thing in it and complaind of the Loss of some trifling thing I could not understand what; after this he brought every thing out of it and deliverd them into my charge desiring that they might be taken care of, after which he left us. A very small quantity of Bread fruit brought this morn. At breakfast time came two messengers from Dootahah to put the cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> in mind of his promise of Visiting him. Accordingly at 9 the boat set out carrying the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself. We arrivd in about an hour, <hi rend="i">Eparre</hi><note xml:id="fn1-271" n="1"><p>Cook writes it in his journal as Apparra. Pare was meant, more particularly the <hi rend="i">marae</hi> at Point Utuhaihai. Both Cook and Banks thus rendered wrongly the Tahitian <hi rend="i">o</hi>, an article prefixed to proper names (and also pronouns) when in the nominative case; cf. O Tahiti, whence the early European form of the name, Otaheite. But 'O’ might be an integral part of a name.</p></note> his residence being about 4 miles from the tents. An immence throng of people met us on the shore crowding us very much tho they were severely beat for so doing by a tall well looking [man] who lacd about him with a long stick most unmercifully, striking all who did not get out of his way without intermission till he had cleard us a path sufficient to go to Dootahah, who was seated under a tree attended by a few grave looking old men. With him we sat down and made our presents consisting of an ax and a gown of Broad cloth made after their fashion and trimmd with tape, with these he seemd mightily satisfied. Soon after this Oborea joind us and with her I retird to a house adjacent where I could be free from the suffocating heat occasiond by so
						<pb xml:id="n323" n="272"/>
						large a crowd of people as were gatherd about us. Here was prepard for our diversion an entertainment quite new to us, a wrestling match at which the other gentlemen soon joind us. A large court yard raild round with Bamboo about 3 feet high was the scene of this diversion; at one end of this Dootahah was seated and near him was left seats for us but we rather chose to range at large among the spectators than confine ourselves to any particular spot.</p>
          <p>The diversion began by the combatants some of them at least walking round the yard with a slow and grave pace every now and then striking their left arms very hard, by which they causd a deep and very loud noise, which it seems was a challenge to each other or any one of the company who chose to engage in the exercise. Within the house stood the old men ready to give applause to the victor and some few women who seem'd to be here out of compliment to us, as much the larger number absented themselves upon the occasion.</p>
          <p>The general challenge was given as I before said, the particular one soon followd it by which any man singled out his antagonist, it was done by joining the finger ends of both hands even with the breast and then moving the Elbows up and down. If this was accepted the challenged immediately returnd the signal and instantly both put themselves in an attitude to engage, which they very soon did striving to seize each other by the hands hair or the cloth they had round their middles, for they had no other dress. This done they attempted to seize each other by the thigh which commonly decided the contest in the fall of him who was thus taken at disadvantage; if this was not soon done they always parted either by consent or their freinds interferd in less than a minute, in which case both began to clap their arms and seek anew for an antagonist either in each other or some one else.</p>
          <p>When any one fell the whole amusement ceasd for a few moments, in which time the old men in the house gave their aplause in a few words which they repeated together in a kind of tune.</p>
          <p>This lasted about 2 hours, all which time the man who we observd at our first Landing continued to beat the people who did not keep at a proper distance most unmercifully. We understood that he was some officer belonging to Dootahah and was calld his Tomítė.<note xml:id="fn1-272" n="1"><p>? <hi rend="i">Tamaiti</hi>, son. From the context it seems that this person was probably the official called the <hi rend="i">taumihau</hi>, the chief's administrator—who might very well be a member of his family.</p></note></p>
          <pb xml:id="n324" n="273"/>
          <p>The wrestling over the gentlemen informd me that they understood that 2 hoggs and a large quantity of Bread fruit &amp;c. was cooking for our dinners, news which pleasd me very well as my stomach was by this time sufficiently prepard for the repast. I went out and saw the ovens in which they were now buried, these the Indians readily shewd me telling me at the same time that they would soon be ready and how good a dinner we should have. In about half an hour all was taken up but now Dootahah began to repent of his intended generosity; he thought I suppose that a hog would be lookd upon as no more than a dinner and consequently no present made in return, he therefore changd his mind and ordering one of the pigs into the boat sent for us who soon collected together and getting our Knives prepard to fall too, saying that it was civil of the old gentleman to bring the provisions into the boat where we could with ease keep the people at a proper distance, who in the house would have crouded us almost to death. His intention was however very different from ours for instead of asking us to eat he ask'd to go on board of the ship, a measure we were forcd to comply with and row 4 miles with the pig growing cold under our noses before he would give it to us. Aboard however we dind upon this same pig and his majesty eat very heartily with us. After dinner we went ashore, the sight of Dootahah reconcild to us acted like a charm upon the people and before night bread fruit and cocoa nuts were brought to sell in tolerable plenty.</p>
          <p>6. Plenty of bread-fruit at market this morn but few cocoa nuts. After dinner Dootahah visited the tents bringing 5 baskets of bread-fruit and some cocoa nuts; he went to the eastward and slept tonight at the long house. Trade rather slack this morn, but we have so much bread-fruit before hand from the trade and presents of yesterday that [it] is immaterial whether we buy any or not today.</p>
          <p>7. After dinner Dootahah came in a double canoe, after him came another bringing 4 hogs and one of these he orderd out of the boat with some bread fruit. I undertook to coax him out of the rest but had not the success I could have wishd, he would part with only one more and for that both the Cap<hi rend="sup">th</hi> and myself were obligd to go aboard with him and give him a broad ax.</p>
          <p>8. M<hi rend="sup">srs</hi> Molineux and Green went to the eastward today in the pinnace intending to purchase hoggs. They went 20 miles, saw many hogs and one turtle but the people would part with neither one nor the other, they belongd they said to Dootahah and without his leave they could not sell them. We now begin to think that
						<pb xml:id="n325" n="274"/>
						Dootahah is indeed a great king much greater than we have been usd to imagine him, indeed his influence upon the late occasion as well as today has prov'd to be so great that we can hardly doubt it. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green measurd today a tree which he saw, it provd to be 60 yards in circumference. He brought home some boughs of it but they were thrown overboard before I could see them so the species of this monstrous tree remains a doubt with us.<note xml:id="fn1-274" n="1"><p>Since a tree circumference of 60 yards is incredible any identification here can only be conjectural. <name type="person" key="name-401775">Dr A. C. Smith</name> suggests the Polynesian fig, <hi rend="i">Ficus prolixa</hi> Forst.— if the combination of a mass of closely grown aerial roots together with the main trunk be admitted.</p></note></p>
          <p>This morn I fix'd my little boat before the door of the Fort, it serves very well for a place to trade in. Trade is not now as it has been, formerly we usd to buy enough for all hands between sunrise and 8 O'Clock now attendance must be given all day or little can be done.</p>
          <p>9. Cocoa nuts have been for some days rather scarce, we are therefore obligd for the first time to bring out our nails. Last night our smallest size about 4 inches long was offerd for 20 Cocoa nutts, accordingly this morn several came with that number so that we had plenty of them. Smaller lots as well as bread fruit sold as usual for beads.</p>
          <p>Soon after breakfast Came Oborea, Obadee and Tupia bringing a hog and some breadfruit; they stayd with us till night then took away their canoe and promisd to return in 3 days. We had to day 350 Cocoa nuts and more bread fruit than we would buy so that we aproach our former plenty.</p>
          <p>10. This morn Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke planted divers seeds which he had brought with him in a spot of ground turnd up for the purpose. They were all bought of Gordon at Mile End and sent in bottles seald up, whether or no that method will succeed the event of this plantation will shew. Plenty of Bread fruit and cocoanuts again today. Towards evening Tubourai and Tomio returnd from the west and seemd extreemly glad to see all of us.</p>
          <p>We have now got the Indian name of the Island, <hi rend="i">Otahite</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-274" n="2"><p>O Tahiti: <hi rend="i">O</hi> as the nominative article. Cf. p. 271, n. 1 above. Banks's phonetic rendering (his i would be long, as in ‘time’) differs rather on paper, but perhaps not in intention, from the ‘Otaheite’ used by Cook and others, and perhaps no more from the classical pronunciation of the name than does the present version. There was in this older pronunciation a ‘forced diphthong’ or ‘vowel glide’ that tended to play down the intermediate <hi rend="i">h</hi> and assimilate somewhat the <hi rend="i">a</hi> of the first syllable and the <hi rend="i">i</hi> of the second.</p></note> so therefore for the future I shall call it. As for our own names the Indians find so much dificulty in pronouncing them that we are forcd to indulge them in calling us what they please, or rather
						<pb xml:id="n326" n="275"/>
						what they say when they attempt to pronounce them. I give here the List: Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke <hi rend="i">Toolė</hi>, D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander <hi rend="i">Torano</hi>, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hicks <hi rend="i">Hėtė</hi>, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore <hi rend="i">Toárro</hi>, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Molineux <hi rend="i">Boba</hi> from his Christian name Robert, M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse <hi rend="i">Mato</hi>, and myself <hi rend="i">Tapanė.</hi> In this manner they have names for almost every man in the ship.</p>
          <p>11. Cocoa nuts were brought down so plentifully this morn that by ½ past 6 I had bought 350: this made it nescessary to drop the price of them least so many being brought at once we should exhaust the countrey and want hereafter; notwistanding I had before night bought more than a thousand at the rates of 6 for an amber coulourd bead, 10 for a white one, and 20 for a fortypenny nail.<note xml:id="fn1-275" n="1"><p>A ‘fortypenny nail’ was a nail 4½ inches long, sold at forty pence for a hundred.</p></note></p>
          <p>12. Cocoa nuts very plentifull this morning. About breakfast time Dootahah visits us. Immediately after while I sat trading in the boat at the door of the fort a double Canoe came with several women and one man under the awning. The Indians round me made signs that I should go out and meet them, by the time I had got out of the boat they were within ten yards of me. The people made a lane from them to me. They stopd and made signs for me to do the same. The man in company with them had in his hand a large bunch of boughs; he advancd towards me bringing two, one a young plantain the other.<note xml:id="fn2-275" n="2"><p>The MS has a space here for the name of the tree from which the second bough came, which with Banks's lack of punctuation has led to corruption in P—i.e. ‘he advanced towards me bringing to one a young plantain the other’ etc. S has the blank, and punctuates ‘two; one a young plantain, the other’ etc.</p></note> Tupia who stood by me acted as my deputy in receiving them and laying them down in the boat: 6 times he passd backwards and forwards in the same manner and bringing the same present. Another man then came forward having in his arms a large bundle of cloth, this he opend out and spread it peice by peice on the ground between the women and me, it consisted on nine peices. Three were first laid. The foremost of the women,<note xml:id="fn3-275" n="3"><p>A marginal note gives her name as Ourattooa: Uratua or Ura-atua?</p></note> who seemd to be the principal, then stepd upon them and quickly unveiling all her charms gave me a most convenient opportunity of admiring them by turning herself gradualy round: 3 peices more were laid and she repeated her part of the ceremony: the other three were then laid which made a treble covering of the ground between her and me, she then once more displayd her naked beauties and immediately marchd up to me, a man following her and doubling up the cloth as he came forwards which she immediately made me understand
						<pb xml:id="n327" n="276"/>
						was intended as a present for me.<note xml:id="fn1-276" n="1"><p>The precise meaning of this pleasant ceremony is not easy to disentangle. The formal presentation of cloth by stripping off large quantities of it from the body until the officiating young woman was almost naked was common enough practice, and the ceremony was called <hi rend="i">taurua.</hi> But this one has points of difference: it may have been merely an elaboration, or as the plantain had phallic significance it may (the suggestion has been made) have symbolized the generous feelings entertained by the female population of the district towards the young and attractive Banks. No such ceremony appears to have been performed for Cook or any other of the English identifiable as <hi rend="i">arii</hi>; and yet Cook was clearly the greatest chief of all.</p></note> I took her by the hand and led her to the tents acompanied by another woman her freind, to both of them I made presents but could not prevail upon them to stay more than an hour. In the evening Oborea and her favourite attendant <hi rend="i">Othéothéa</hi><note xml:id="fn2-276" n="2"><p>? O Tahiatahia (the <hi rend="i">tah</hi> sound often came to the European ear as <hi rend="i">th</hi>); or possibly Tiatia. Parkinson writes the name Otea Tea.</p></note> pay us a visit, much to my satisfaction as the latter (my flame) has for some days been reported either ill or dead.</p>
          <p>13. Our Freinds with us this morn in very good time as they generaly are, very shortly after sunrise plenty of cocoa nuts &amp;c. at the market. After it was over, about 10 O'Clock, I walkd into the woods with my gun, as I generaly did to spend the heat of the day in the Indian houses where I could be cool from the shade of the trees which every where grow about them. In my return I met Tubourai near his house; I stopd with him, he took my gun out of my hand, cockd it and holding it up in the air drew the trigger, fortunately for him it flashd in the pan. Where he had got so much knowledge of the use of a gun I could not conceive but was sufficiently angry that he should attempt to exersise it upon mine, as I had upon all occasions taught him and the rest of the Indians that they could not offend me so much as even to touch it. I scolded him severely and even threatned to shoot him. He bore all patiently but the moment I had crossd the river he and his family bag and baggage movd of to their other house at Eparre. This step was no sooner taken than I was informd of it by the Indians about the fort. Not willing to lose the assistance of a man who had upon all occasions been particularly usefull to us I resolv'd to go this evening and bring him back, acordingly as soon as dinner was over I set out acompanied by M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Molineux. We found him setting in the middle of a large circle of people, himself and many of the rest with most melancholy countenances some in tears; one old woman on our coming into the circle struck a sharks tooth into her head many times till it foamd with blood but her head seemd to have been so often excersisd with this expression of greif that it was become quite callous, for tho the crown of it was coverd with blood enough did not issue
						<pb xml:id="n328" n="277"/>
						from the wounds to run upon her cheeks. After some few assurances of forgiveness Tubourai agreed to return with us, in consequence of which resolution a double canoe was put off in which we all returnd to the tents before supper time, and as a token of a renewal of freindship both him and his wife slept in my tent all night.</p>
          <p>About 11 one of the natives atempted to scale our walls intending no doubt to steal whatever he could find, but seeing himself observd he made off much faster than any of our people could follow him.</p>
          <p>14. Our freinds Dootahah, Oborea, Otheothea &amp;c. at the tents this morn as usual. It being Sunday Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke proposd that divine service should be celebrated<note xml:id="fn1-277" n="1"><p>Cook had been both recommended by Lord Morton and enjoined by the Articles of War to give frequent performance to Divine Worship; he, like Banks, mentions it for this day, but from neither would one gather that it was a constant practice. Nor does Cook appear to have read the service, while Banks clearly was more interested in Polynesian theology. Other logs and journals however mention a Sunday service more frequently, and whatever part of the ship's company was not indispensably employed got a half-day off ‘at their own Leisure’.</p></note> but before the proper time of doing it most of our Indian freinds were gone home to eat. I was resolvd however that some should be present that they might see our behaviour and we might if possible explain to them (in some degree at least) the reasons of it. I went therefore over the river and brought back Tubourai and Tomio and having seated them in the tent plac'd myself between them. During the whole service they imitated my motions, standing setting or kneeling as they saw me do, and so much understood that we were about something very serious that they calld to the Indians without the fort to be silent; notwisthstanding this they did not when the service was over ask any questions nor would they attend at all to any explanation we attempted to give them. We have not yet seen the least traces of religion among these people, maybe they are intirely without it.</p>
          <p>15. In the course of last night one of the Indians was clever enough to steal an Iron bound cask; it was indeed without the fort but so immediately under the eye of the Sentry that we could hardly beleive the possibility of such a thing having [happened]<note xml:id="fn2-277" n="2"><p>MS <hi rend="i">sic</hi>; a slip for <hi rend="i">hapning</hi>? S writes <hi rend="i">having</hi>, and adds <hi rend="i">happened</hi> interlineally. P <hi rend="i">having</hi>, which does not make sense, though Banks may have intended <hi rend="i">having been done.</hi></p></note> when we lookd at the place. The Indians however acknowledg'd it and seemd inclind to give intelligence, in consequence of which I set off in pursuit of it and tracd it to a part of the bay where they told me it had been put into a canoe. The thing was not of consequence enough to pursue with any great spirit so I returnd home where I found Oborea, Otheothea, Obadee &amp;c. At night Tubourai made
						<pb xml:id="n329" n="278"/>
						many signs that another cask would be stole before morning, and thinking I suppose that we did not sufficiently regard them himself his wife and family came to the place where the cask[s] lay and making their beds said that they would themselves take care that no one should steal them. On being told this I went to them and explaining to them that a Sentry was this night put over those particular casks they agreed to come and sleep in my tent, but insisted upon leaving a servant to assist the sentry in case the theif came, which he did about 12 and was seen by the Sentry who fird at him on which he retreated most expeditiously.</p>
          <p>16. The morning wet and disagreable. We hauld the Seine in several parts of the bay without the least success; the Indians are so fond of fish and so expert in catching it, using almost every method we do in Europe, that our want of success is not at all to be wonderd at. Tonight Tubourai, Tamio, Oborea, Obadee and Otheothea slept in my tent. At midnight the water casks were again atempted and two shot fird at the theif which alarmd my bedfellows not a little, they were however soon quieted by my going out and bringing back word of the reason of the firing.</p>
          <p>17. Fine weather. Oborea and her freinds went early to Eparre as the rest of our cheifs did yesterday in 18 double canoes, so that we are quite dull for want of company in the tents. Tubourai and Tamio slept with me as usual.</p>
          <p>18. Fine weather and good market, the apples<note xml:id="fn1-278" n="1"><p>This may be either the fruit of the Vi or yellow apple, <hi rend="i">Spondias dulcis</hi>, also called the Brazilian plum (Parkinson says it was the size of a middling apple); or the Ahia, <hi rend="i">Eugenia malaccensis</hi>, the East Indian jambo, commonly called in Tahiti (apart from its native name) the rose-apple or mountain apple, which however has a pear-shaped fruit— I think more likely the former; cf. pp. 342–3 below, and PL. VI.</p></note> begin now to be ripe and are brought in in large quantities very cheap so that apple pies are a standing dish with us.</p>
          <p>19. This morning Tubourai who had slept [with] me as usual was observd by my servant to have an uncommonly large nail under his Cloaths, this I was informd of and knowing that no such had been either given or dispos'd of in trade was obligd to suspect my freind of theft. I therefore went instantly to his house and chargd him with it, he immediately confessd but atempted to keep his booty by telling me that the nail was gone to Eparre. I became much in earnest and a few threats soon produc'd the stolen goods. I was more hurt at the discovery than he was, I firmly beleive he was the only Indian I trusted and in him I had placd a most unbounded confidence, this event shews more than he could
						<pb xml:id="n330" n="279"/>
						bear: 7 of these nails lay in a basket in one of the tents and on examining it 5 were missing. I thought it nesscessary after this discovery to bring the offender to the tents to receive judgement which I did. Every body there was of opinion that his fault was pardonable. I confess that upon thinking over the circumstances I blam'd myself more for leaving the nails in his way than him for stealing them. It was therefore resolvd that if he brought back the other 4 he should be forgiven and his fault forgot: this I told him and he agreed readily, but instead of performing his part he and his family movd off before night taking with them all their furniture.</p>
          <p>20. Rain and very disagreeable weather so that we had but little trade. About 10 Oborea came to the fort and brough[t] a large present of bread fruit, she had with her Otheothea and her other maids of honour as we call them but Obadee her gentleman attendant was absent. We enquird the reason, she told us that she had dismiss'd him; about 8 however he came by torch light and going to the house in the woods where she slept slept with her.</p>
          <p>21. Sunday, Divine service performd, at which was present Oborea, Otheothea, Obadee, &amp;c. all behav'd very decently. After dinner Obadee who had been for some time absent returnd to the fort. Oborea desird he might not be let in, his countenance was however so melancholy that we could not but admit him. He lookd most piteously at Oborea, she most disdainfully at him; she seems to us to act in the character of a Ninon d'Enclos<note xml:id="fn1-279" n="1"><p>Banks's scholarship had lapses. Ninon de l'Enclos (1620–1705), the free and dazzling mistress of the most celebrated of seventeenth century salons. The passage which follows, that Banks was ‘at present otherwise engag'd’, does not seem to refer to Miss Blosset.</p></note> who satiated with her lover resolves to change him at all Events, the more so as I am offerd if I please to supply his place, but I am at present otherwise engag'd; indeed was I free as air her majesties person is not the most desireable.</p>
          <p>22. This morning showery and cool, seemingly a good opportunity of going upon the hills. I went accompanied only by Indians, indeed all of them but one soon left me, he however accompanied me during my whole walk. The paths were very open and clear till I came to the woods but afterwards very bad, so much so that I could not reach the top of the lowest of the two high hills seen from the fort, which was all I intended.<note xml:id="fn2-279" n="2"><p>It is difficult to know what Banks meant by ‘the lowest of the two high hills seen from the fort’. There were a number of high hills visible: if he meant the highest, Aorai or one of the peaks of Orofena, he was making a serious miscalculation of distance and accessibility.</p></note> I was in some measure
						<pb xml:id="n331" n="280"/>
						however recompens'd by finding several plants which I had not before seen, with which I returnd before sunset, and had Oborea, Obadee and Otheothea to sleep with me in my tent.</p>
          <p>23. Trade very slack today, so much so that we have only Cocoa nuts for the sick, and the people are obligd to have bread servd them at dinner.</p>
          <p>24. We had receivd repeated messages from Dootahah signifying that if we would go and visit him we should have 4 hogs for our pains; in consequence of this our first Lieutenant was sent today with orders to go to him and try if by any civilities he could shew him he could procure them. He found him removd from his old residence at Eparre to a place calld Tettaháh<note xml:id="fn1-280" n="1"><p>Tataa, an old name for the district of Faaa, adjoining Pare. Point Tataa on the modern map is the seaward limit of the line separating Faaa from the Punaauia district. The harbour of the district was the present Papeete harbour.</p></note> about 5 miles farther. He was reciv'd with great cordiality, one hog was immediately producd and he was told that the others should be brough[t] somewhere from a distance if he would stay till next morning. This he did not at all scruple, the morning came however without the hogs so he was obligd to return with the one he had got over night not a little dissatisfied with Dootahahs nonperformance of his promises.</p>
          <p>M<hi rend="sup">SRS</hi> Monkhouse and Green atempted this day to climb the same hill that I attempted on the 22<hi rend="sup">nd</hi>, with much the same success; they got however higher than I did but could not reach the summit.</p>
          <p>25. Tubourai and Tamio made their appearance at the fort for the first time since the breach of the 19<hi rend="sup">th</hi>, he in particular seemd much frightned nor did my behavior to him give him much comfort. I had resolvd not to restore him either to my freindship or confidence unless he restord the nails which he seemd to have no intention of dooing; after staying a little time he went home sulky as he came.</p>
          <p>26. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse who I think is rather too partial to Tubourai went this morn to his house intending to persuade him to come to the tents. He made many excuses, he was hungry, he must sleep, his head achd, in short he would not nor did not come. Tamio however did but took alarm at my being absent who was aboard of the ship and soon departed.</p>
          <p>27. This day M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse went to Eparre with Tubourai and Tamio. Market tolerable. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hicks in his return from Dootahah brought word that if the Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> would go over the 4 piggs would
						<pb xml:id="n332" n="281"/>
						be given to him: this producd a resolution of going tomorrow, tho we none of us much credited his promise, yet we would leave no stone unturnd to keep him in good humour. I omitted to mention on the 25<hi rend="sup">th</hi> that the longboat being very leaky was hauld dry and her bottom found to be eat intirely through by the worm,<note xml:id="fn1-281" n="1"><p>The wood-boring shipworm, <hi rend="i">Teredo</hi> sp.</p></note> which surprizes us much as the Dolphins boats met with no such inconvenience: her bottom was payd with brimstone and tallow. The pinnace which has been in the water as long as her is totaly untouchd which we atribute to hers being painted with white lead and oil.</p>
          <p>28. This morn the pinnace set out for the Eastward<note xml:id="fn2-281" n="2"><p>A slip for <hi rend="i">Westward</hi>.</p></note> with the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander and myself. Dootahah was removd from Tettahah where M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Hicks saw him on the 24<hi rend="sup">th</hi> to Atahourou, about 6 miles farther, a place to which the boat could not go.<note xml:id="fn3-281" n="3"><p>This may have been at Point Punaauia, where there was a great <hi rend="i">marae</hi>; but it may also have been at Tuteha's <hi rend="i">marae</hi> of Maraetaata, about two miles farther on. We do not know where the party started walking; for Tettaha as a place name is almost as vague as Atahourou. Why the boat could not go farther is unclear, unless Cook feared difficulty with the reef. He himself merely says, ‘as we had left the Boat about half way behind us we were oblige'd to take up our quarters with him for the night’.</p></note> We were resolv'd not to be disapointed so walkd afoot. It was evening before we arrivd, we found him setting under a tree with a vast croud about him as usual; we made our presents in due form consisting of a yellow stuff peticoat &amp;c. which were graciously receivd, and a hog immediately [brought]<note xml:id="fn4-281" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">receivd, and a hog</hi>, P <hi rend="i">received with a hog</hi>; S <hi rend="i">received, &amp; a hog immediately brought [brought</hi> added interlineally].</p></note> with many promises of more in the morning. Night came on apace, it was nescessary to look out for lodgings; as Dootahah made no offer of any I repaird to my old Freind Oborea who readily gave me a bed in her canoe much to my satisfaction. I acquainted my fellow travelers with my good fortune and wishing them as good took my leave. We went to bed early as is the custom here: I strippd myself for the greater convenience of sleeping as the night was hot. Oborea insisted that my cloths should be put into her custody, otherwise she said they would certainly be stolen. I readily submitted and laid down to sleep with all imaginable tranquility. About 11 I awakd and wanting to get up felt for my clothes in the place in which I had seen them laid at night but they were missing. I awakd Oborea, she started up and on my complaining of the Loss candles were immediately lit. Dootahah who slept in the next canoe came to us and both went in search of the theif, for such it seems it was who had stolen
						<pb xml:id="n333" n="282"/>
						my coat and waistcoat<note xml:id="fn1-282" n="1"><p>Parkinson (p. 31) tells us that ‘Mr. Banks lost his white jacket and waistcoat, with silver frogs’. The contrast between Banks the elegant spark and Banks the anthropological researcher will later become apparent.</p></note> with my pistols powder horn &amp;c., they returnd however in about £½ an hour without any news of the stolen goods. I began to be a little alarmd, my musquet was left me, but that by my neglect the night before was not loaded; I did not know where Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> Cooke or D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander had disposd of themselves, consequently could not call upon them for assistance; Tupia stood near me awakd by the Hubbub that had been raisd on account of my Loss; to him I gave my Musquet charging him to take care that the theif did not get it from him, and betook myself again to rest, telling my companions in the boat that I was well satisfied with the pains that Oborea and Dootahah had taken for the recovery of my things. Soon after I heard their musick and saw lights near me; I got up and went towards them, it was a heiva or assembly according to their custom. Here I saw Capt<hi rend="sup">n</hi> Cooke and told my melancholy story, he was my fellow sufferer, he had lost his stockins and two young gentlemen<note xml:id="fn2-282" n="2"><p>Cook does not refer to these ‘two young gentlemen’; I take it they were two of the midshipmen.</p></note> who were with him had lost each a Jacket. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander was away we neither of us knew where: we talkd over our losses and agreed that nothing could be done toward recovering them till the morning, after which we parted and went to our respective sleeping places.</p>
          <p>29. At day break we rose according to the custom of our companions. Tupia was the first man I saw, atending with my Musquet and the remainder of my cloaths, his faith had often been tried, on this occasion it shone very much. Oborea took care to provide me with cloth to supply the place of my lost Jacket so that I made a motley apearance, my dress being half English and half Indian. Dootahah soon after made his apearance; I pressd him to recover my Jacket but neither he nor Oborea would take the least step towards it so that I am almost inclind to beleive that they acted principals in the theft. Indeed if they did it may be said in their excuse that they knew I had in my pockets a pair of pistols, weopons to them more dreadfull than a cannon to a man marching up to its mouth: could they get possession of them they thought no doubt that they would be as usefull to them as to us; self defence and preservation therefore in this case came in opposition to the laws of hospitality, duties to which mankind usualy give the preference in all cases.</p>
          <p>About 8 D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander returnd from a house about a mile off where he had slept: he had met with more honest companions
						<pb xml:id="n334" n="283"/>
						than we had for nothing of his was missing. We spent the most of the morning in trying to persuade our freinds either to restore our cloaths or give us some hogs acording to promise, but neiether could we do, so we were forcd to set out for the boat with only the pig got yesterday, dissatisfied enough with our expedition.</p>
          <p>In our return to the boat we saw the Indians amuse or excersise themselves in a manner truly surprizing. It was in a place where the shore was not guarded by a reef as is usualy the case, consequently a high surf fell upon the shore, a more dreadfull one I have not often seen: no European boat could have landed in it and I think no European who had by any means got into [it] could possibly have saved his life, as the shore was coverd with pebbles and large stones. In the midst of these breakers 10 or 12 Indians were swimming who whenever a surf broke near them divd under it with infinite ease, rising up on the other side; but their cheif amusement was carried on by the stern of an old canoe, with this before them they swam out as far as the outermost breach, then one or two would get into it and opposing the blunt end to the breaking wave were hurried in with incredible swiftness. Sometimes they were carried almost ashore but generaly the wave broke over them before they were half way, in which case the[y] divd and quickly rose on the other side with the canoe in their hands, which was towd out again and the same method repeated. We stood admiring this very wonderfull scene for full half an hour, in which time no one of the actors atempted to come ashore but all seemd most highly entertaind with their strange diversion.</p>
          <p>30. Carpenters employd today in repairing the long boat which is eat in a most wonderfull manner, every part of her bottom is like a honeycomb and some of the holes £⅛<hi rend="sup">th</hi> of an inch in diameter, such a progress has this destructive insect made in six weeks.</p>
          <p>31. The day of Observation now aproaches. The weather has been for some days fine, tho in general since we have been upon the Island we have had as much cloudy as clear weather, which makes us all not a little anxious for success. In consequence of hints from Lord Morton the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> resolves to send a party to the eastward, and another to <hi rend="i">Imáo</hi>, an Island in sight of us,<note xml:id="fn1-283" n="1"><p>Cook and others generally spelt the name of the island Eimeo; it was Aimeo or Aimeho, clearly visible from Point Venus; now called Moorea.</p></note> thinking that in case of thick weather one or the other might be more successfull than the observatory. The Carpenters work very hard to finish the long boat. I resolve to go on the Imáo expedition.</p>
        </div>
        <pb xml:id="n335" n="284"/>
        <div xml:id="t1-body-d6-d3" type="section">
          <head><hi rend="lsc">June</hi> 1769</head>
          <p>1. The boat could not be got ready till after dinner when we set out; we rowd most of the night and came to a grapling just under the land of Imáo.</p>
          <p>2. Soon after day break we saw an Indian canoe and upon hailing her she shewed us an inlet through the reef, into [which] we pulld and soon fixd upon a Coral rock about 150 yards from the shore as a very proper situation for our Observatory;<note xml:id="fn1-284" n="1"><p>This was the islet of Irioa, just inside the reef beyond the Taotoi pass, almost at the north-west point of Moorea.</p></note> it was about 80 yards long and 60 broad and had in the middle of it a bed of white sand large enough for our tents to stand upon. The 2<hi rend="sup">nd</hi> Lieutent and people therefore immediately set about it while I went upon the main Island to trade with the inhabitants for provisions, of which I soon bought a sufficient supply. Before night our observatory was in order, telescopes all set up and tried &amp;c. and we went to rest anxious for the events of tomorrow; the evening having been very fine gave us however great hopes of success.</p>
          <p>3. Various were the Changes observd in the weather during the course of last night, some one or other of us was up every half hour who constantly informd the rest that it was either clear or Hazey, at day break we rose and soon after had the satisfaction of seeing the sun rise as clear and bright as we could wish him. I then wishd success to the observers M<hi rend="sup">SRS</hi> Gore and Monkhouse and repaird to the Island, where I could do the double service of examining the natural produce and buying provisions for my companions who were engagd in so usefull a work. About eight a large quantity of provisions were procurd when I saw two boats coming towards the place where I traded; these I was told belongd to <hi rend="i">Tarróa</hi><note xml:id="fn2-284" n="2"><p>Ta'aroa.</p></note> the King of the Island who was coming to pay me a visit. As soon as the boats came near the shore the people formd a lane; he landed bringing with him his sister <hi rend="i">Nuna</hi><note xml:id="fn3-284" n="3"><p>This may be the correct form of the name.</p></note> and both came towards the tree under which I stood. I went out and met them and brought them very formaly into a circle I had made, into which I had before sufferd none of the natives to come. Standing is not the fashion among these people, I must provide them a seat, which I did by unwrapping a turban of Indian cloth which I wore instead of a hat and spreading it upon the ground; upon this we all sat down and the kings present was brought Consisting
						<pb xml:id="n336" n="285"/>
						of a hog, a dog and a quantity of Bread fruit Cocoa nuts &amp;c. I immediately sent a canoe to the Observatory to fetch my present, an adze a shirt and some beads with which his majesty seemd well satisfied. Tubourai and Tamio who came with us now came from the observatory; she said that she was related to Tarroa and brought him a present, a long nail and a shirt, which she gave to Nuna. After the first Internal contact was over I went to my Companions at the observatory carrying with me Tarroa, Nuna and some of their cheif atendants; to them we shewd the planet upon the sun and made them understand that we came on purpose to see it. After this they went back and myself with them. I spent the rest of the day in examining the produce &amp;c. of the Island and found it very nearly similar to that of Otahite, the people exactly the same, indeed we saw many of the Identical same people as we had often seen at Otahite, and every one knew well every kind of trade we had and the value it bore in that Island. The hills in general came nearer to the water and flats were consequently less, and less Fertile, than at Otahite—the low point near which we lay was composd intirely of sand and coral. Here neither Breadfruit nor any usefull vegetables would grow; it was coverd over with <hi rend="i">Pandanus tectorius</hi><note xml:id="fn1-285" n="1"><p>There are many varieties of Fara or pandanus, growing both on high and on low ground; Banks is probably referring to the common Fara-iri, much used in the islands for mats.</p></note> and with these grew several plants we had not seen at Otahite, among them Iberis,<note xml:id="fn2-285" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">Lepidium bidentatum</hi> Montin (<hi rend="i">L. piscidium</hi> Forst. &lt;JDH&gt;). Parkinson's drawing is labelled ‘Ulhietea [i.e. Raiatea] 1769’. Thellung refers this sp. to <hi rend="i">L. hyssopifolium.</hi></p></note> which M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore tells me is the plant calld by the voyagers scurvy grass which grows plentifully upon all the low Islands.</p>
          <p>At sunset I came off having purchasd another hog from the King. Soon after my arrival at the tent 3 hansome girls came off in a canoe to see us, they had been at the tent in the morning with Tarroa, they chatted with us very freely and with very little perswasion agreed to send away their carriage and sleep in [the] tent, a proof of confidence which I have not before met with upon so short an acquaintance.</p>
          <p>4. We prepard ourselves to depart, in spite of the intreaties of our fair companions who persuaded us much to stay. What with presents and trade our stock of Provisions was so large that we were obligd to give away a large quantity. This done we put off and before night arrivd at the tents, where we had the great satisfaction that the observation there had been attended with as much success as M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Green and the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> could wish, the day having been
						<pb xml:id="n337" n="286"/>
						perfectly clear not so much as a cloud interveining. We also heard the melancholy news that a large part of our stock of Nails had been purloind by some of the ships company during the time of the Observation, when every body was ashore who had any degree of command. One of the theives was detected but only 7 nails were found upon him out of 100 W<hi rend="sup">t</hi> and he bore his punishment without impeaching any of his acomplices. This loss is of a very serious nature as these nails if circulated by the people among the Indians will much lessen the value of Iron, our staple commodity.</p>
          <p>5. During our absence at Imao an old woman of some consequence, a relation of Tamio, was dead and was plac'd not far from the fort to rot above ground as is the custom of the Island. I went this morn to see her. A small square was neatly raild in with Bamboe and in the midst of it a Canoe awning set up upon two posts, in this the body was laid coverd with fine cloth. Near this was laid fish &amp;c. meat for the gods not for the deceasd, but to satisfie the hunger of the deitys least they shoud eat the body, which Tubourai told us they would certainly do if this ceremony was neglected. In the front of the square was a kind of stile or place lower than the rest, where the relations of the deceasd stood when they cry'd or bled themselves, and under the awning were numberless rags containing the blood and tears they had shed. Within a few yards were two occasional houses; in one of them some of the relations constantly remaind generaly a good many; in the other the cheif male mourner resided and kept a very remarkable Dress in which he performd a ceremony, both which I shall describe when. I have an opportunity of seeing it in perfection which Tubourai promises me I shall soon have.</p>
          <p>This day we kept the Kings birthday which had been delayd on account of the absence of the two observing parties; several of the Indians dind with us and drank his majesties health by the name of Kihiargo, for we could not teach them to pronounce a word more like King George. Tupia however to shew his Loyalty got most enormously drunk.</p>
          <p>6. In walking into the woods yesterday I saw in the hands of an Indian an Iron tool made in the shape of the Indian adzes, very different I was sure from any thing that had been carried out or made either by the Dolphin or this ship. This excited my curiosity, much the more so when I was told that it did not come out of either of those ships but from two others which came here together. This was a discovery not to be neglected. With much dificulty and labour
						<pb xml:id="n338" n="287"/>
						I at last got the following account of them, viz. that in their month of <hi rend="i">Pėpėrė</hi> which answers to our January 1768<note xml:id="fn1-287" n="1"><p>The lunar month <hi rend="i">Pipiri</hi>, generally taken to include parts of February and March. The MS is amended; Banks first had February 1767, then changed the year to 1768 and the month (apparently) to May, and finally deletes all this for January 1768. But it was in the first half of April 1768 that Bougainville paid his visit.</p></note> 2 Spanish ships came here commanded by a man whoom they calld <hi rend="i">To Otterah</hi>;<note xml:id="fn2-287" n="2"><p>This name is generally given as Toottera, as in Cook. It may be a rendering of Duclos, Bougainville's second in command; he himself was known as Putaveri.</p></note> that they lay 8 days in a bay calld <hi rend="i">Hidea</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-287" n="3"><p>Hitiaa was the district, but Haitaa is in the immediate vicinity of Bougainville's anchorage, and Hidea may signify this latter name.</p></note> some leagues to the eastward of <hi rend="i">Matavie</hi> where the ship now lies; that during their stay they sent tents ashore and some slept in them; that they were cheifly connected with a cheif whose name was <hi rend="i">Orėttė</hi>,<note xml:id="fn4-287" n="4"><p>Reti, Ereti, Oreti—there is some slight doubt about the chief's name.</p></note> whose younger brother<note xml:id="fn5-287" n="5"><p>The name Outorrou is given marginally: Ahutoru.</p></note> they carried away with them promising to return in nine months; that they had on board their ships a woman;<note xml:id="fn6-287" n="6"><p>This was true—and a fact which astonished the French themselves. It was Jeanne Bare or Baret, whom, dressed as a man, the naturalist <name type="person" key="name-150234">Philibert Commerson</name> said he engaged in good faith as his valet on the quay-side at Brest. Her deceit was suspected, but not admitted, until the arrival in Tahiti, when a glance from the natives served to dispel it. Unfortunately for Commerson, he was a man of the most elevated and tedious sentiments on the subject of morality and refinement of taste, at the expense of his shipmates. The ribald laughter in which these shipmates then indulged may well have seemed to poor Commerson one of the corruptions of civilization with which he compared the primitive virtues of the Isle of Cythera, in his famous letter published in the <hi rend="i">Mercure de France</hi>, November 1769.</p></note> and that on their departure they stood to the westward as long as they were seen from the Island. I was very particular in these inquiries as the Knowledge got by them may be of some consequence. The methods I took to gain this account would be much too tedious to mention: one of my greatest dificulties was to determine of what nation they were which was done thus, I pointed to our colours and ask'd whether the ships had such or not. No, was the answer when the question was thouroughly understood. I opend a large sheet of Flaggs and askd which of them they had: Tubourai lookd stedfastly over them and at last pitchd upon the Spanish<note xml:id="fn7-287" n="7"><p>Bougainville disclaimed ever having flown the Spanish ensign.</p></note> ensign and to that he adhered tho we tryd him over and over.</p>
          <p>7. We were this morn visited by several of Dootahahs relations women especialy, probably to sound us upon the score of our usage at Atahourou. We had resolvd at that place rather to put up with our losses than to mattow<note xml:id="fn8-287" n="8"><p><hi rend="i">matau</hi>, to fear; to frighten would be <hi rend="i">faa-matau.</hi> There is a note here in S: ‘Mattow in their Language signifies to frighten, or affront. Indeed the general consequence of frightening them, was their being affronted’.</p></note> or frighten the Indians, the consequence of which we knew to be scarcity of provisions;
						<pb xml:id="n339" n="288"/>
						we therefore treated these people very well, making them presents to tempt them to come again and bring Dootahah, king of the hogs as we calld him and certainly have always found him.</p>
          <p>8. Fresh proofs of the Spanish ships every day in thing[s] of theirs which have been left here, among the rest a course shirt and a woolen jacket both of manufacture different from any English.</p>
          <p>9. Yesterday and today the <hi rend="i">Heiva no Meduah</hi><note xml:id="fn1-288" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">Heiva no metua; metua</hi>, a parent, of either sex. As we see from the next entry and that for 26 June below, it was a ceremony of mourning for the mother of a young woman called Hoona or Huna.</p></note> or funeral ceremony walkd. My curiosity was raisd by his most singular dress. I was desirous of knowing what he did during his walk; I askd Tubourai, at the same time desird leave to atend him tomorrow which upon my consenting to perform a character was readily granted. Tomorrow therefore I am to be smutted from head to foot and to do whatever they desire me to do. Bread fruit has for some time been scarce with us; about 10 days ago the trees were thinnd all at once from their being a great shew of fruit; every one was employd in making <hi rend="i">Mahie</hi><note xml:id="fn2-288" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">mahi</hi>, the ‘sour-paste’ made from breadfruit. See pp. 344–5 below.</p></note> for about a week. Where the breadfruit we now have comes from we cannot tell, but we have more than the woods in our neighbourhood can supply us with. Probably our consumption has thinnd the trees in this neighbourhood, as the Dolphins who came here about this time saw great plenty all the time they stayd; if this is the case what we now get may be brought from some neig[h]bouring place where the trees are not yet exhausted.</p>
          <p>10. This evening according to my yesterdays engagement I went to the place where the <hi rend="i">medua</hi> lay, where I found Tubourai, Tamio, Hoona<note xml:id="fn3-288" n="3"><p>Huna ?</p></note> the <hi rend="i">Meduas</hi> daughter and a young Indian prepard to receve me. Tubourai was the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi>, the three others and myself were to <hi rend="i">Ninėvėh</hi>.<note xml:id="fn4-288" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">neneva</hi> means fool or foolish, giddy; and <hi rend="i">nevaneva</hi>, mad, distracted (Davies, 1851). Some confusion of words is not unlikely. Cf. <hi rend="i">Journal of <name type="person" key="name-401896">James Morrison</name></hi>, p. 233: ‘This Ceremony is also Calld Tyehaa [<hi rend="i">taihaa; tai</hi>, to weep or grieve] or Mourning, the Performers are Called Naynevva, Madmen Hevva tyehaa—Mourning Spirits, Gosts, or Spectres’. It is clear from Banks's description, the earliest we have, as well as from later ones, that the near-naked assistants were to act in as thoroughly terrifying a manner as possible, as if they were violently out of their minds with grief. There is no figure annexed in the MS to explain the dress of the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi> (which was properly the ceremony itself, not the principal figure in it); but there is a drawing in B.M. Add. MS 15508, f. 9, entitled ‘Chief Mourner’, on which is founded the presentment in Plate V in Hawkesworth, II. There is also a pencil drawing by Spöring, entitled ‘Dress of the Chief Mourner’, B.M. Add. MS 23921.32. Henry (<hi rend="i">Ancient Tahiti</hi>, p. 293) says the ceremony was called <hi rend="i">hevatupapau</hi>, mourning for the corpse; the principal, a priest, seems to have represented the ghost of the deceased. See pl. 15.</p></note> He put on his dress, most Fantastical tho not unbecoming, the figure annexd will explain it far better than
						<pb xml:id="n340" n="289"/>
						words can.<note xml:id="fn1-289" n="1"><p>S footnotes this as follows: ‘Alluding to a drawing of the Heiva note tatta Matte Dress [‘tatta Matte’ is presumably <hi rend="i">taata mate</hi>, dead man]. Besides the Nineveh going before, by way of giving notice of the approach of the Heiva; he (the Heiva) carries in one hand Shells of Mother of Pearl; which by his knoucking together, gives farther notice of his approach: and, should any Indian not get out of his way, he would beat him unmercifully with a Staff he carries: the top of which has many small, jagged points’. The British Museum has in its ethnological collection a specimen of the ‘Heiva's’ dress, together with the shell ‘clackers’ and a very dangerous-looking staff.</p></note> I was next prepard by stripping off my European cloths and putting me on a small strip of cloth round my waist, the only garment I was allowd to have, but I had no pretensions to be ashamd of my nakedness for neither of the women were a bit more coverd than myself. They then began to smut me and themselves with charcoal and water, the Indian boy was compleatly black, the women and myself as low as our shoulders. We then set out. Tubourai began by praying twice, once near the Corps again near his own house. We then proceeded towards the fort: it was nesscessary it seems that the procession should visit that place but they dare not to do it without the sanction of some of us, indeed it was not till many assurances of our consent that they venturd to perform any part of their ceremonies. To the fort then we went to the surprize of our freinds and affright of the Indians who were there, for they every where fly before the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi> like sheep before a wolf. We soon left it and proceeded along shore towards a place where above 100 Indians were collected together. We the <hi rend="i">Ninevehs</hi> had orders from the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi> to disperse them, we ran towards them but before we cam[e] within 100 yards of them they dispers'd every way, running to the first shelter, hiding themselves under grass or whatever else would conceal them. We now crossd the river into the woods and passd several houses, all were deserted, not another Indian did we see for about £½ an hour that we spent in walking about. We the <hi rend="i">Ninevehs</hi> then came to the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi> and said <hi rend="i">imatata</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-289" n="2"><p><hi rend="i">aima taata.</hi></p></note> there are no people; after which we repaird home, the <hi rend="i">Heiva</hi> undressd and we went into the river and scrubbd one another till it was dark before the blacking would come off.</p>
          <p>11. This Evening Tubourai came to the tents bringing a bow and arrows, in consequence of a challenge M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore had given him sometime ago to shoot. This challenge was however misunderstood, Tubourai meant to try who could shoot the farthest,<note xml:id="fn3-289" n="3"><p>Archery was an aristocratic sport in Tahiti, confined to the <hi rend="i">arii</hi> and generally held with great ceremony from sacred platforms; shooting was always for distance. The best description is in Ellis, <hi rend="i">Polynesian Researches</hi>, I, pp. 217–19.</p></note> M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore to shoot at a mark and neither was at all practisd in what the other valued himself upon. Tubourai to please us shot in his
						<pb xml:id="n341" n="290"/>
						way; he knelt down and drew the bow and as soon as he let slip the string droppd the bow from his hand, the arrow however went 274 yards.</p>
          <p>12. In my mornings walk today I met a company of traveling musicians;<note xml:id="fn1-290" n="1"><p>A company of <hi rend="i">arioi</hi></p></note>, they told me where they should be at night so after supper we all repaird to the place. There was a large concourse of people round this band, which consisted of 2 flutes and three drums, the drummers acompanying their musick with their voices; they sung many songs generaly in praise of us, for these gentlemen like Homer of old must be poets as well as musicians. The Indians seeing us entertaind with their musick, askd us to sing them an English song, which we most readily agreed to and receivd much applause, so much so that one of the musicians became desirous of going to England to learn to sing. These people by what we can learn go about from house to house, the master of the house and the audience paying them for their musick in cloth, meat, beads or any thing else which the one wants and the other can spare.</p>
          <p>13. M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Monkhouse our surgeon met to day with an insult from an Indian, the first that has been met with by any of us. He was pulling a flower from a tree which grew on a burying ground and consequently was I suppose sacred,<note xml:id="fn2-290" n="2"><p>By ‘burying-ground’ Banks means a <hi rend="i">marae</hi>, which would certainly be <hi rend="i">tapu.</hi></p></note> when an Indian came behind him and struck him; he seiz'd hold of him and attempted to beat him, but was prevented by two more who coming up seizd hold of his hair and rescued their companion after which they all ran away.</p>
          <p>14. I lay in the woods last night as I very often did. At day break I was calld up by M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore and went with him shooting, from which party we did not return till night when we saw a large number of Canoes in the river behind the tents, of which we had this account. Last night an Indian was clever enough to steal a Coal rake out of the fort without being perceivd. In the Morning it was missing and Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke being resolvd to recover it, as also to discourage such atempts for the future, went out with a party of men and seizd 25 of their large sailing Canoes which were just come in from <hi rend="i">Tethuroa</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-290" n="3"><p>The atoll Tetiaroa, a group of five small islets within one reef, about 26 miles northwest of Moorca; it belonged to the <hi rend="i">arii</hi> of Pare, to whom it served as a sort of countryseat. Teturoa was an older name.</p></note> a neighbouring Island, with a supply of fish for the inhabitants of this. The Coal rake was upon this soon brought back but Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke thought he had now in his hands an opportunity of recovering all the things which had been stolen: he therefore
						<pb xml:id="n342" n="291"/>
						proclaimd to every one that till all the things which had been stolen from us were brought back the boats should not stir, a list of these was immediately drawn up and read several times to the Indians, who readily promisd that every thing should be brought back. Great application was made to me in my return that some of these might be releasd. I did not till I got to the fort understand the reason of their being detaind, and when I did nothing apeard so plain as that no one of them should on any account be let go from favour, but the whole kept till the things were [returnd] if ever they were, which I much doubted as the Canoes pretty certainly did not belong to the people who had stolen the things. I confess had I taken a step so violent I would have seizd either the persons of the people who had stolen from us, most of whoom we either knew or shrewdly suspected, or their goods at least instead of those of people who are intirely unconcernd in the affair and have not probably interest enough with their superiors (to whoom all valuable things are carried) to procure the restoration demanded.</p>
          <p>15. Some few presents today but no trade at all. We found ourselves today involvd in an unexpected dificulty with regard to the boats: they were loaded with provisions which their owners must live upon or starve, in consequence of which they ask leave to go and take them out and are allowd to do so as much as they can eat. We are not able however to distinguish the true owners, so many avail themselves of this indulgence by stealing their neighbours which we cannot prevent, indeed in a few days more the whole consisting cheifly of fish (curd to keep about that time) will be spoild.</p>
          <p>16. Some presents today but no trade. Several petitions for canoes backd by our principal freinds but none complied with. In the afternoon the body of the old woman which lay near us was removd, but to what place or on what account we could not learn.</p>
          <p>17. This morn M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Gore and myself went to Oparre<note xml:id="fn1-291" n="1"><p>Pare; Banks has merely prefixed O instead of his earlier E, perhaps showing his increasing acquaintance with the language.</p></note> to shoot Ducks,<note xml:id="fn2-291" n="2"><p>It seems probable that these were the common duck of the South Sea islands, the Australian Gray Duck, <hi rend="i">Anas superciliosa</hi> Gm.</p></note> little thinking what the consequence of our expedition would be; for before we had half filld our baggs we had frigh[t]ned away Dootahah and all his household and furniture, a matter of no small diversion to us to find his majesty so much more fearfull than his ducks.</p>
          <pb xml:id="n343" n="292"/>
          <p>18. This morn the boat was sent to get Ballast for the ship; the officer sent in her not finding stones convenient began to pull down a burying ground.<note xml:id="fn1-292" n="1"><p>A ‘burying ground’ undoubtedly here means a <hi rend="i">marae.</hi> If men serving under Cook could be so almost criminally thoughtless, one can hardly be surprised that the history of race-contacts in the Pacific includes more than one incident of bloodshed.</p></note> To this the Indians objected much and [a] messenger came to the tents saying that they would not suffer it. I went with the 2<hi rend="sup">nd</hi> Lieutenant to the place. They had desird them to desist from destroying the burying ground they had began upon, but shewd them another. The officer however though[t] it best not to molest any thing of the kind and sent the people to the river where they gatherd stones very Easily without a possibility of offending anybody.</p>
          <p>19. The fish in the Canoes stink most immoderately so as in some winds to render our situation in the tents rather disagreable. This evening Oborea, Otheothea and Tuarua<note xml:id="fn2-292" n="2"><p>‘Tuarua’ has not previously come into the journal; the name as it stands may be correct.</p></note> came to visit us for the first time since the affair of the Jacket; they were very desirous of sleeping in the fort but my Marque[e] was full of Indians and no one else chose to entertain them, so they were obligd to repair to their Canoes to sleep there rather out of humour.<note xml:id="fn3-292" n="3"><p>There seems to have been more behind this brief account than meets the eye. Cook is also brief, expressing surprise that Purea should appear without restoring stolen property, and noting her excuse that ‘her gallant’ was responsible and that ‘she had beat him and turn'd him away’; but Parkinson (p. 32) tells a story which is inherently far from improbable. According to him, two of the girls ‘were very assiduous in getting themselves husbands’; Monkhouse the surgeon took one, and one of the lieutenants the other; all went well ‘till bed-time, and then they determined to lie in Mr. Banks's tent, which they did accordingly; but one of the engaged coming out, the surgeon insisted that she should not sleep there, and thrust her out, and the rest followed her, except Otea Tea, who whined and cried for a considerable time, till Mr. Banks led her out also. Mr. Monkhouse and Mr. Banks came to an eclaircissement some time after; had very high words, and I expected they would have decided it by a duel, which, however, they prudently avoided’.—Clearly Mr Banks experienced the penalties as well as the delights of popularity. It was very agreeable to have the charming Tiatia in his tent—‘my flame’—when she did not whine and cry; but it was difficult when everybody wanted to sleep there.</p></note></p>
          <p>20. This morn early Oborea and Co came to the tents bringing a large quantity of provisions as a present, among the rest a very fat dog. We had lately learnt that these animals were eat by the Indians and esteemd more delicate food than Pork, now therefore was our oportunity of trying the experiment. He was immediately given over to Tupia who finding that it was a food that we were not acustomd to undertook to stand butcher and cook both. He killd him by stopping his breath, holding his hands fast over his mouth and nose, an operation which took up above a quarter of an hour; he then proceeded to dress him much in the same manner as we
						<pb xml:id="n344"/>
						<figure xml:id="Bea01BankP011a"><graphic url="Bea01BankP011a.jpg" mimeType="image/jpeg" xml:id="Bea01BankP011a-g"/><head>Pl. V. <hi rend="i">Barringtonia speciosa</hi><lb/>
								Tahiti</head></figure>
						<pb xml:id="n345"/>
						<pb xml:id="n346" n="293"/>
						would do a pig, singing him over the fire which was lighted to roast him and scraping him clean with a shell. He then opend him with the same instrument and taking out his entrails pluck &amp;c. sent them to the sea where they were most carefully washd, and then put into Cocoa nut shells with what blood he had found in him. The stones were now laid and the dog well coverd with leaves laid upon them. In about two hours he was dressd and in another quarter of an hour compleatly eat. A most excellent dish he made for us who were not much prejudicd against any species of food; I cannot however promise that an European dog would eat as well, as these scarce in their lives touch animal food, Cocoa nut kernel, Bread fruit, yams &amp;c, being what their masters can best afford to give them and what indeed from custom I suppose they preferr to any kind of food.</p>
          <p>21. This Morning came <hi rend="i">Oámo</hi>,<note xml:id="fn1-293" n="1"><p>Amo.</p></note> a cheif we had not before seen; with him came a boy and a young woman to whoom all the people present shewd a most uncommon respect, every one taking their garments from their shoulders and wrapping them round their breasts. We were upon this very desirous of shewing them all the respect we could as well as learning who they were: we could not however prevail upon the woman to come into the tents tho she seemd very desirous of it, the people all joind in preventing her by their advice at some times almost using force; the boy was in the same manner kept without. D<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Solander met him by accident close by the gate and laying hold of his hand he followd him in before the people were aware; those in the tents however very soon sent him out again. Upon inquiry we find that this boy is son to Oamo and Oborea who are husband and wife, but have long ago been parted by a mutual consent which gives both leave to enjoy the pleasures of this life without controul from their former engagements. The girl about 16 is intended for his wife but he being not more than 8 years old they have not yet cohabited together.<note xml:id="fn2-293" n="2"><p>This was the famous appearance of Temarii or Teriirere, the <hi rend="i">arii rahi</hi> or <hi rend="i">arii nui</hi> of Teva-i-uta, who had his great <hi rend="i">marae</hi> in the Papara district. His person was sacred, hence the removal of the upper garments. The young woman was Te arii na vaho roa, the sister of Tu of Pare. Both being of such exalted rank, their presence in the tents would under Tahitian custom have made them <hi rend="i">tapu</hi>, and hence unusable by commoners. Cook notes that Teriirere was carried on a man's back—which was again due to his sacredness, lest his feet should render the ground he trod on <hi rend="i">tapu.</hi> Cook thought the boy was about 7 and the young woman 18 or 20 and that she was his sister, but this last assumption was a natural consequence of the Tahitian language. She was duly married to Teriirere, but died childless.</p></note></p>
          <p>22. Our visiters returnd early this morn, Oborea, Otheothea,
						<pb xml:id="n347" n="294"/>
						Oamo &amp;c. &amp;c. The latter begins to shew himself a very sensible man by the shrewd questions he asks about England its manners and customs &amp;c. Much interest is made to procure the release of the boats, indeed Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke is now tird of keeping them as he finds that not the least motion is made towards returning any of the stol'n goods; four of them are therefore set at liberty.</p>
          <p>23. Our Freinds with us as usual. One of our seamen a Portugese<note xml:id="fn1-294" n="1"><p><name type="person" key="name-401819">Emanuel Pereira</name>, who volunteered into the ship at Rio.</p></note> was last night missing; as there was no news of him this Morning we concluded that he was run away and meant to stay among the Indians. Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke therefore offerd a hatchet to any man who would bring him back, one soon offerd and returnd with him at night. He said that two Indians seizd him and stopping his mouth forcd him away, but as he was out of the fort after a woman this account apeard improbable, the man was however not punishd.</p>
          <p>24. Our freinds all went to the westward last night; nothing material happend during our solitude. The market has been totaly stoppd ever since the boats were seizd, nothing being offerd to sale but a few apples; our freinds however are liberal in presents so that we make a shift to live without expending our bread, which and spirits are the most valuable articles to us. Late in the evening Tubourai and Tamio returnd from Eparre bringing with them several presents, among the rest a large peice of thick cloth<note xml:id="fn2-294" n="2"><p>This was evidently <hi rend="i">tapa</hi> of the very best quality, such as was appropriated to chiefly wear.</p></note> which they desird that I would carry home to my Sister <hi rend="i">Opia</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-294" n="3"><p>Sophia.</p></note> and for which they would take no kind of return. They are often very inquisitive about our families and remember any thing that is told them very well.</p>
          <p>25. Prayers today it being sunday, soon after <hi rend="i">Potattow</hi> and <hi rend="i">Polotheara</hi><note xml:id="fn4-294" n="4"><p>Potatau, an Atehuru <hi rend="i">arii</hi>, and Poro-tahiara. Corney, III, p. 266 gives her name as Purutifara. They have not been previously mentioned, though they appear to have been prominent people, who made their presence felt both at this time and later. <name type="person" key="name-123817">George Forster</name>, on Cook's second voyage, picked up a curious story which does not appear elsewhere: ‘Polatchera, his [Potatow's] former wife, was so like him in stature and bulk, that we unanimously looked upon her as the most extraordinary woman we had ever seen. Her appearance and her conduct were masculine in the highest degree, and strongly conveyed the idea of superiority and command. When the Endeavour bark lay here, she had distinguished herself by the name of captain Cook's sister, (<hi rend="i">tuaheine no</hi> T<hi rend="sc">oote</hi>;) and one day, being denied admittance into the fort on Point Venus, had knocked down the sentry who opposed her, and complained to her adopted brother of the indignity which had been offered to her’.—<hi rend="i">Voyage round the World</hi> (1777), I, p. 361. It is odd that the story is not otherwise known, but it is not impossibly true.</p></note> came to see us.</p>
          <p>26. At 3 O'clock this morn Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke and myself set out to the
						<pb xml:id="n348" n="295"/>
						eastward in the pinnace, intending if it was convenient to go round the Island, the weather calm and pleasant. We rowd till 8 and then went ashore in a district calld <hi rend="i">Ohíana</hi><note xml:id="fn1-295" n="1"><p>Haapaianoo, which Banks had before reached on his walk with Solander on 24 April.</p></note> governd by a cheif calld <hi rend="i">Ahío</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-295" n="2"><p>Ahaio.</p></note> who favourd us with his company to breakfast. Here we saw our old acquaintances <hi rend="i">Tituboalo</hi><note xml:id="fn3-295" n="3"><p>?Te aitu-poaro.</p></note> and <hi rend="i">Hoona</hi>,<note xml:id="fn4-295" n="4"><p>This, it will be remembered, was the young woman who was Banks's fellow ‘nineveh’ on 10 June.</p></note> who carried me immediately to their House near which was placd the body of the old woman which was removd from Matavie on the 16<hi rend="sup">th</hi>. This it seems was the estate which descended to Hoona by inheritance from her and it was on that account nescessary that she should be brought here. From hence we proceeded on foot, the boat atending within call, till we came to <hi rend="i">Ahidea</hi><note xml:id="fn5-295" n="5"><p>Haitaa, or Hitiaa. One is not always finally certain what sounds Banks's vowels are intended to carry. Cf. p. 274, n. 2 above.</p></note> the place where the Spanyards were said to lay. We met with the cheif their freind Oréttė, whose brother <hi rend="i">Outorrou</hi> went with them. Our inquiries here were very particular and we had the account I have before given confirmd; they shewd us also the place where the ships lay, which is situate on the west side of the great bay under the shelter of a small Island calld <hi rend="i">Boooúrou</hi><note xml:id="fn6-295" n="6"><p>Puaru or Puuru.</p></note> near which is another calld <hi rend="i">Taawirry.</hi><note xml:id="fn7-295" n="7"><p>Taaupiri.</p></note> The breach in the reef was here very large but the shelter for ships indifferent. We saw also the place where their tents were pitchd: they pointed out the hole in which each pole stood and shewd one corner in which they set up a cross I had made for them, and said <hi rend="i">Turu turu</hi> which in their language signifies the knees.<note xml:id="fn8-295" n="8"><p><hi rend="i">Turi</hi> is the word for knee. <hi rend="i">Turu</hi> or <hi rend="i">turuturu</hi> means side-posts of a house, and the late <name type="person" key="name-102890">Mr J. Frank Stimson</name> suggested that the word may have once by metaphor signified the two knees as well; or the shape of the cross may simply have reminded the Tahitians of side-posts. Or if <hi rend="i">turi</hi> was the word they used, possibly they simply meant that the ‘Spaniards’ had fallen on their knees before a cross similar to the one Banks made.</p></note> In searching about upon this spot I found a small peice of potsheard or tile, a sure proof tho a small one that in place at least the indians had not deceivd me.</p>
          <p>Soon after this we took boat and askd Tituboaro to go with us. He refusd and advisd us not to go: on the other side of the bay he said livd people who were not subjects to Dootahah and who would kill him and us.<note xml:id="fn9-295" n="9"><p>It is difficult to know what is meant by this. The other side of the bay was the northern coast of Taiarapu, and its people were certainly not subject to Tuteha (nor were the people of Hitiaa); but we have no record of enmity at this time. Indeed Tuteha and the high chief of Taiarapu had recently been allies against Purea and Amo. Certainly a few years later, 1772–3, Tuteha attacked Taiarapu, with disaster to himself.</p></note> On seeing us put balls into our musquets
						<pb xml:id="n349" n="296"/>
						he however consented to go with us. We rowd till dark at which time we arrivd at the bottom of the deep bay; we were not yet among our enemies, we might go ashore and sleep with safety. We did so but found few houses, here were however some double canoes whose owners were known to us; they provided us with supper and lodgins, for my share of which I was indebted to <hi rend="i">Ourattooa</hi> a Lady remarkable among us for the ceremonies she performd on the 12<hi rend="sup">th</hi> of May last.</p>
          <p>27. At day break we turnd out to see a little of the countrey about us which we did not arrive at last night till dark. We found the traces of Canoes having been hauld inland and the people told us that the Island was in this place very narrow and that they draggd their canoes quite across cheifly over soft boggs.<note xml:id="fn1-296" n="1"><p>This was the isthmus of Taravao, about 1½ miles across.</p></note>—We now prepard to set out for the other Kingdom for so we are told it is, Calld <hi rend="i">Tiarreboo</hi> and governd by <hi rend="i">Waheatua</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-296" n="2"><p>Taiarapu or Tahiti-iti (Little Tahiti), as a political division called Teva-i-tai or Seaward Teva; its high chief bore the traditional title of Vehiatua.</p></note> as ours is called <hi rend="i">Oboreonoo</hi> and governd by <hi rend="i">Dootahah.</hi><note xml:id="fn3-296" n="3"><p>Oboreonoo=Porionuu or Te Porionuu; Cook and Banks, having picked up the name in the country close to <name key="name-134499" type="place">Matavai Bay</name>, gave it a far wider significance than it really had, applying it to the whole of Tahiti-nui, or Great Tahiti. But it included only the two small districts of Pare and Arue, and did not even extend to Matavai Bay. Nor was it all governed by Tuteha, whose importance came from his personality and not his rank, nor by any other one man.</p></note> Tituboalo is in better spirits now than yesterday, they will not kill us he says but they have got no meat. Indeed we had not since we came out seen a bit of breadfruit; we thought that we might have exhausted it in this part of the Island but hop'd to find plenty in the other, the people of which if enemies had certainly not traded with us. After a few miles rowing we landed in a District calld <hi rend="i">Annuúhé</hi>,<note xml:id="fn4-296" n="4"><p>Anuhi, the name then used for the present Pueu.</p></note> the Name of the cheif of which was <hi rend="i">Maraitátá</hi><note xml:id="fn5-296" n="5"><p>Maraetaata; burial place was not necessarily the main significance of <hi rend="i">marae</hi> here.</p></note> (the burying place of men) and his father <hi rend="i">Pahairėdo</hi><note xml:id="fn6-296" n="6"><p>?Pahi-riro; <hi rend="i">pahi</hi>, a canoe, <hi rend="i">riro</hi>, lost or missing</p></note> (the stealer of boats) names which did not a little confirm Tituboalos relation. These gentlemen however notwithstanding their terrible titles receivd us with all manner of civility, gave us provisions and after some delay sold us a very large hog for a hatchet. We saw among the crowd only two people whose faces we knew and not one bead or ornament which came out of our ship, tho there were several European ones; in one of the houses lay 2 12 pound shot one of which was markd with the English broad arrow, these they said had been given them by <hi rend="i">Toottero</hi> the Spanish commander.—We now walkd forward on foot till
						<pb xml:id="n350" n="297"/>
						we came to the district which particularly belongd to Waheatua, it was situate on the westernmost point of the large bay before mentiond, a large and most fertile flat.<note xml:id="fn1-297" n="1"><p>This is the peninsula of Tautira (then called Fatutira) where Vehiatua had his residence; ‘westernmost’ is an obvious slip for ‘easternmost’.</p></note> On it was a river so large that we were obligd to ferry over in a canoe<note xml:id="fn2-297" n="2"><p>The Vaitepiha river.</p></note> and our Indian train to swim, which they did with as much facility as a pack of hounds taking the water much in the same manner. Here were no houses but ruind remains of very large ones. We proceeded along shore and found at last Waheatua setting near some pretty Canoe awnings which seemd to be intended to furnish him with lodgins, he was a thin old man with very white hair and beard; with him was a well looking woman of about 25 year old whose name was <hi rend="i">Toudidde</hi>,<note xml:id="fn3-297" n="3"><p>Tautiti. Cf. Corney, <hi rend="i">Quest and Occupation of Tahiti</hi>, II, pp. xxiv-xxv.</p></note> we had heard her name mentiond very often and by what the people told she was a woman of much consequence in this part of the Island, answering in some measure to what Oborea is in the other. From this place <hi rend="i">Tearre</hi><note xml:id="fn4-297" n="4"><p>i.e. <hi rend="i">Te arii</hi>, the chief; Banks spells the name <hi rend="i">Tearee</hi> below, which looks like <hi rend="i">Terii</hi>, short for <hi rend="i">Te arii</hi> (cf. Teriirere, the son of Purea and Amo). His more personal name was Taata-uraura.</p></note> son to Waheatua acompanied us after having sold us a hog. The countrey we went through was more cultivated than any thing we have seen in the Island; the brooks were every where bankd into narrow channels with stone and the very sea was confind by a wall of stone also. The houses were not very large or very numerous but the large canoes which were hauld up every where along shore almost innumerable; they were of a different built from those which we have seen at Oboreonoo, longer and their heads and sterns higher. Upon these were kind of crotches which we suppos'd were to support large images many of which we saw hanging up in their houses; their awnings also were supported on pillars. At almost every point was a <hi rend="i">morai</hi> or burying place and many within land. They were like those of Oboreonoo raisd into the form of the roof of a house, but these were cleaner and better kept and also ornamented with many carvd boards set upright, on the tops of which were various figures of birds and men; on one particularly a figure of a cock painted red and yellow in imitation of the feathers of that bird. In some of them were figures of men standing on each others heads which they told me was the particular ornament of Burying grounds.<note xml:id="fn5-297" n="5"><p>In this description of the <hi rend="i">marae</hi> Banks describes a part as the whole. It was the <hi rend="i">ahu</hi>, the principal feature of the <hi rend="i">marae</hi>, a stone platform at the end of the <hi rend="i">marae</hi> court, that was ‘raisd into the form of the roof of a house’. The ‘carvd boards set upright’ were called <hi rend="i">unu</hi>; they were erected in honour of departed chiefs whose bones were deposited at the <hi rend="i">marae.</hi> The figures of men, carved in flat relief, were called <hi rend="i">tii</hi>; they were symbolical and not representational, and in no sense ‘idols’. Birds were believed to be ‘shadows’, or symbols, or temporary dwelling-places, of the gods. What Banks took to be a cock was perhaps the <hi rend="i">manu ura</hi> or sacred bird; red and yellow were sacred colours (cf. the <hi rend="i">maro-ura</hi> and <hi rend="i">maro-tea</hi>, the sacred red and yellow feather girdles with which <hi rend="i">arii rahi</hi> were invested); but it may also possibly have been a cock, sacred to Ruaifaatoa, a god of warriors and strength whose diversion was cock-fighting.</p></note>—But
						<pb xml:id="n351" n="298"/>
						fertile as this countrey was we did no[t] get or even see a single breadfruit, the trees were intirely bared, the people seemd to live intirely on <hi rend="i">Ahee Fagifera</hi><note xml:id="fn1-298" n="1"><p><hi rend="i">ihi</hi>, the fruit of the <hi rend="i">mape</hi> or Tahitian chestnut (<hi rend="i">Inocarpus edulis</hi>). ‘Fagifera’ is added in pencil in a blank left for the purpose.</p></note> which were plentifull here.</p>
          <p>After tiring ourselves with walking we calld up the boat but both our Indians were missing, they had it seems staid behind at Waheatuas, depending upon a promise we had made to the old man of returning and sleeping with him (a promise we were often forcd to make without any intention of performing it). Tearee and another went with us. We rowd till we came abreast a small Island calld <hi rend="i">Tuarrite</hi><note xml:id="fn2-298" n="2"><p>Cook spells this name on his chart Otooareite. It is probably the islet now called Tiere, one of a cluster of three; its former name was Tiare-iti, and from the spellings given perhaps also Tuarae-iti.</p></note> when it became dark and our Indians piloted us ashore to a place where they said that we might sleep; it was a deserted house and near it was a very snug cove for the boat to lay, so we wanted nothing but Victuals of which article we had met with very little since morning. I went into the woods, it was quite dark so that neither people nor victuals could I find except one house where I was furnishd with fire, a breadfruit and a half and a few <hi rend="i">ahees</hi>, with which and a duck<note xml:id="fn3-298" n="3"><p>Probably <hi rend="i">Anas superciliosa</hi> Gm., the Australian Gray Duck.</p></note> or 2 and a few curlews<note xml:id="fn4-298" n="4"><p>Probably the Bristle-thighed Curlew, <hi rend="i">Numenius tahitiensis</hi> (Gm.). Non-breeding birds of this species sometimes winter in Polynesia.</p></note> we were forcd to go to sleep, which I did in the awning of a Canoe that followd us belonging to Tearee.</p>
          <p>28. This morn at day break we rose and agreed to stay here an hour or two in hopes to get some provision: salt beef we had with us but nothing of the bread kind, for that we depended on the natives who had on all former occasions been both able and willing to supply us with any quantity of Breadfruit. I went out meaning to go among the houses; in my way I went through several burying grounds (<hi rend="i">Marai</hi>) on the pavements of which I saw several vertebræ and sculls of men laying about as if no care was taken to bury them, in every thing else they were quite like what we had seen before. In my excursion I could not procure the least supply of provision so we were forcd to set out in hopes of meeting some countrey where provision was less scarce. We walkd and the boat followd
						<pb xml:id="n352" n="299"/>
						us. In about 3 miles we arrivd at a place where were several large canoes and a number of people with them; we were not a little surprizd to find that these people were our intimate acquaintance, several at least, who we had often seen at the tents and other places, <hi rend="i">Towia</hi><note xml:id="fn1-299" n="1"><p>?Tohaia.</p></note> who we were told was brother to <hi rend="i">Towdidde, Roudėro</hi><note xml:id="fn2-299" n="2"><p>Roudero <hi rend="i">sic.</hi></p></note> &amp;c. Here we thought ourselves sure o getting a supply of provisions and apply'd to our freinds accordingly. They told us we should have some if we would wait, we did till we were out of patience; we then desird them to get us some cocoa nuts the kernels of which make a substitute for bread, they said yes but nobody went up the trees. We were resolvd to [have] them at least so calling for a hatchet we threatned to cut down the trees if our demands were not complied with; nobody objected to our doing so if we chose it, nor did any body atempt to climb the trees to supply us. Just now however we luckily saw two men busy in stripping a parcel of them, these we obligd to sell their stock consisting of 16, with these we embarkd taking with us <hi rend="i">Tuahów</hi><note xml:id="fn3-299" n="3"><p>Tuahou or Tuahau.</p></note> one of our Indians who had returnd to us last night long after dark. When we in the boat talkd over this behaviour of our freinds we were inclind to beleive that they were strangers here, and consequently had not the disposal of the provisions; indeed we never had before met with any dificulty in getting from them any provisions of which they had enough.</p>
          <p>The reef here was irregular and the ground very foul so that the boat was continualy surroundd with breakers. We followd a canoe which led us to a passage where by waiting for a slatch<note xml:id="fn4-299" n="4"><p>A nautical term for a brief spell or interval.</p></note> of still water we got out, tho not without danger, for the sea broke quite across almost as soon as the boat was clear. We were now off the SW end of the Island. The land apeard very barren, no ree to shelter the coast and the hills every where butting out to the sea without any flatts;<note xml:id="fn5-299" n="5"><p>This was Pari (<hi rend="i">pari</hi>=the cliffs).</p></note> here were however some houses and inhabitants, and on ledges of the hills here and there a little breadfruit and higher up large quantities of <hi rend="i">Faé.</hi><note xml:id="fn6-299" n="6"><p>Fei, mountain plantains.</p></note> This lasted for about a League when we again saw the ree and a flat on which we went ashore by the recomendation of our Indian guide, who told us that the countrey was rich and good. The name of this district or whennua<note xml:id="fn7-299" n="7"><p><hi rend="i">fenua.</hi></p></note> was <hi rend="i">Ahowe</hi>:<note xml:id="fn8-299" n="8"><p>Ahui, the old name for a sub-district called Vai-ao-tea, now included in the district of Teahupoo. It is not to be confused with another sub-district of the same name on the northern coast of Tahiti-iti.</p></note> the cheif <hi rend="i">Mathíabo</hi><note xml:id="fn9-299" n="9"><p>Matahiapo—i.e. the ‘first-born’ of a great <hi rend="i">arii</hi> family.</p></note> soon came down to us, he seemd
						<pb xml:id="n353" n="300"/>
						a total stranger both to us and our trade. His subjects brought down plenty of Cocoa nuts and about 20 breadfruits, which latter we bought at a very dear rate, while his majesty sold us a pig for a glass bottle preferring that to any thing we could give him. We saw here an English goose and a turkey cock which they told us had been left by the Dolphin, both of them immensely fat and as tame as possible, following the Indians every where who seemd immensely fond of them.<note xml:id="fn1-300" n="1"><p>These were trophies of war; they had come from Matavai Bay to Papara, and been snatched away with other trophies when Amo and Purea were defeated.</p></note> In a long house in this neighbourhood I saw a sight quite new to me: 15 underjaw bones of men were fastned to a semicircular peice of board and hung up at one end of it, they appeard quite fresh, not one at all damagd even by the Loss of a tooth. I askd many questions about them but the people would not attend at all to me and either did not or would not understand either words or signs upon that subject.<note xml:id="fn2-300" n="2"><p>These were also trophies of war; they were the jawbones of the Papara men.</p></note> On our departure from hence Mathiabo desird leave to acompany us which was granted, he provd a good pilot but persuaded us to land often, 5 or 6 times in as many miles. In all these districts we saw nothing remarkable; the general face of the countrey was greener than on our side of the Island and the hills were coverd with wood almost down to the waters edge, the flats in general small but fertile enough. At last we opend a large bay, which being opposite to as large a one on the other side almost intersects the Island at the place over which they drag their canoes; about 2 thirds down this bay we resolvd to lodge at a large house which we saw and which Mathiabo informd us belongd to a freind of his. From this place many Canoes came off to meet us and in them some very hansome women who by their behaviour seemd to be sent out to entice us to come ashore, which we most readily did, and were receivd in a very freindly manner by <hi rend="i">Wivėrou</hi><note xml:id="fn3-300" n="3"><p>Corney, <hi rend="i">Discovery of Tahiti</hi>, III, Descriptive Index, gives his name as Tuivirau or Tuivivirau—which last he says is incorrect; but it tallies better with the name picked up by Banks and Cook.</p></note> who was cheif of the district which was calld <hi rend="i">Owiourou</hi><note xml:id="fn4-300" n="4"><p>Vaiuru, the old name for the district of Vairaao.</p></note> He orderd his people to assist us in dressing our provisions, of which we had now got a tolerable stock about 30 breadfruit some plantains and fish, enough to last us two days. I stuck close to the women hoping to get a snug lodging by that means as I had often done; they were very kind, too much so for they promisd more than I ask'd, but when they saw that we were resolvd to stay they dropd off one by one and at last left me jilted 5 or 6 times and obligd to seek out for a
						<pb xml:id="n354" n="301"/>
						lodging myself. Supper was by this time ready and we repaird to that part of the house where Wiverou was to eat it; he sent for his at the same time and Mathiabo supping with us we made a snug party. As soon as we had done we began to think of sleeping and askd for a bed. We were shown a part of the house where we might lay; we then sent for our cloaks and began to prepare ourselves, myself as my constant custom was by stripping myself and sending my cloaths into the boat, covering myself only with a peice of Indian cloth after their fashion which I have done ever ever since I had my Jacket &amp;c. stolen at Atahourou. Mathiabo complaind of cold and a cloak was sent for for him also, Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> Cooke and myself agreed that he had behavd so well to us that there was not the least doubt of his honesty. We laid down, Mathiabo did not come, I imagin'd that he was gone to wash as the Indians always do in the evening. I was almost asleep when an Indian who was a stranger to me came and told me that he was gone off with the Cloak, I did not beleive him but laid down again. Tuahow our Indian then came and confirmd the report; I then found it was high time to give chase so I leapd up and declard my case to the company, shewing one of my pocket pistols which I always kept with me. They took the alarm and began to walk of, I seizd however the best looking man I could see and told him that if he did not find out where Mathiabo was I would shoot him in his stead. The threat had the desird effect: he offerd to accompany me in the chase: the Cap<hi rend="sup">tn</hi> myself and him set out as hard as we could run and in about ten minutes met a man bringing back the cloak; but our freind Mathiabo was fled and by that means escapd a severe thrashing which we had decreed to be a proper reward for his breach of trust. When we returnd every body was gone from the house; we quickly however made them sensible that our anger was intirely confind to Mathiabo and they all returnd, Wiverou and his wife taking up their lodging within 10 feet of us.</p>
          <p>29. About 5 O'Clock our sentry awakd us with the alarming intelligence of the boat being missing, he had he said seen her about £½ an hour before at her grapling which was about 50 yards from the shore, but that on hearing the noise of Oars he lookd out again and could see nothing of her. We started up and made all possible haste to the waterside, the morn was fine and starlight but no boat in sight. Our situation was now sufficiently disagreable: the Indians had probably attackd her first and finding the people asleep easily carried her, in which case they would not fail to attack
						<pb xml:id="n355" n="302"/>
						us very soon, who were 4 in number armd with one musquet and cartouch box and two pocket pistols without a spare ball or charge of powder for theem. In about a quarter of an hour however we had the satisfaction to see the boat return, which had drove from her grapling by some effect of the tide probably as it was perfectly calm.</p>
          <p>As soon as the boat returnd we got our breakfast and set out. The first district on which we landed was the last in Tiarreboo, it was governd by <hi rend="i">Omóė.</hi><note xml:id="fn1-302" n="1"><p>Moe. Cook writes Omae.</p></note> He was employd in building a house for which purpose he wanted a hatchet very much and was inclind to offer any price for it but our stock was quite spent; after some conversation we found that he would not deal for nails and put off the boat. He and his wife <hi rend="i">Whannoouda</hi><note xml:id="fn2-302" n="2"><p>?Fanau-tua (cf. p. 328, n. 2 below).</p></note> followd in a canoe; we took them into the boat and after rowing about a league they desird we would put ashore, which we did and found his people who had brought a very large hog. We had much chafering about the price of it, it was worth any ax we had in the ship but we had no ax at all in the boat. We therefore told Omoe that if he would come to Matavie with his hog he should have a large ax and a nail into the bargain for his trouble; which he after having consulted his wife readily agreed to, and gave us a large peice of cloth as a pledge of his intention to perform this agreement.</p>
          <p>At this place we saw a singular curiosity, a figure of a man made of Basket work, roughly but not ill designd; it was 7 feet high and two bulky in proportion to its hight; the whole was neatly coverd with feathers, white to represent skin and black to represent hair and <hi rend="i">tattow</hi>;<note xml:id="fn3-302" n="3"><p><hi rend="i">tatau</hi>, the tattooing of the skin.</p></note> on the head were three protuberances which we should have calld horns but the Indians calld them <hi rend="i">tata ete</hi><note xml:id="fn4-302" n="4"><p><hi rend="i">taata iti.</hi></p></note> little men. The image was calld by them <hi rend="i">Maúwė</hi>; they said it was the only one of the kind in Otahite and readily atempted to explain its use, but their language was totaly unintelligible and seemed to referr to some customs to which we are perfect strangers.<note xml:id="fn5-302" n="5"><p>This is rather mysterious. The image apparently represented the great Polynesian culture-hero Maui; but I do not know of any other reference to it, besides that in Cook on this same occasion, nor what the three <hi rend="i">taata iti</hi>—‘little men’—were. Cook writes (pp. 111–12) that it was ‘said by the Natives to be used in their Heiva's or publick entertainments, probably as punch is in a Puppet Show’; he says there were ‘four nobs resembling stumps of horns’, three in front and one behind. This was at what Cook calls ‘the first Whennua in <hi rend="i">Opooreonoo</hi>’—Vaiari, now Papeari</p></note> —After this we got into the boat and rowd several miles before we went ashore. When we did we saw nothing remarkable but a burying ground whose pavement was unusualy neat; it was ornamented by a pyramid about 5 feet high coverd intirely with the fruits of
						<pb xml:id="n356" n="303"/>
						<hi rend="i">Pandanus</hi> [<hi rend="i">tectorius</hi>] and <hi rend="i">Cratæva</hi> [<hi rend="i">gynandra</hi>].<note xml:id="fn1-303" n="1"><p>The two names in square brackets have been added in pencil, to supply blanks in the text, apparently in the hand of <name type="person" key="name-110500">Robert Brown</name>, the eminent botanist and Banks's later librarian. Hooker altered the former to <hi rend="i">Pandanus odorus</hi>, without indicating in any way what he had done. This is only one of many instances of ‘mutilation’ perpetrated by Hooker (cf. Warren Dawson, <hi rend="i">Jour. Soc. Bibliog. Nat. Hist.</hi> 2 : 218–22). No <hi rend="i">Crataeva</hi> coll. has been located but Parkinson's coloured drawing of ‘Crataeva frondosa mscr.’ dated 1769 and Solander's usual full description are preserved. Britten identifies this as <hi rend="i">C. uliginosa</hi> L. It is <hi rend="i">C. religiosa</hi> Forst. f. See Pl. 29.</p></note> In the middle of all near the Pyramid was a small image of stone very roughly workd, the first instance of carving in stone I have seen among these people, and this they seemd to value as it was coverd from the weather with a kind of shed built purposely over it; near it were three sculls of men laid in order, very white and clean and quite perfect. From hence we proceeded to <hi rend="i">Papárra</hi>,<note xml:id="fn2-303" n="2"><p>Papara.</p></note> the district of our freinds Oamo and Oborea, where we proposd to sleep tonight; we came there an hour before night and found that they were both from home, they were gone to Matavie to see us. This did not alter our resolution of sleeping here and we chose for that purpose the house of Oborea, which tho small was very neat and had nobody in it but her father who was very civil to us. After having setled our matters we took a walk towards a point on which we had from far observd trees of Etoa,<note xml:id="fn3-303" n="3"><p>Toa or Aito, ironwood, <hi rend="i">Casuarina equisetifolia.</hi> The scientific name has not changed. As Banks had noticed, it was a characteristic tree about <hi rend="i">marae.</hi></p></note> <hi rend="i">Casuarina equisetifolia</hi>, from whence we judgd that thereabouts would be some <hi rend="i">marai</hi>; nor were we disapointed for we no sooner arrivd there than we were struck with the sight of a most enormous pile, certainly the masterpeice of Indian architecture in this Island so all the inhabitants allowd. Its size and workmanship almost exceeds beleif, I shall set it down exactly. Its form was like that of <hi rend="i">Marais</hi> in general, resembling the roof of a house, not smooth at the sides but formd into 11 steps, each of these 4 feet in hight making in all 44 feet, its length 267 its breadth 71. Every one of these steps were formd of one course of white coral stones most neatly squard and polishd, the rest were round pebbles, but these seemd to have been workd from their uniformity of size and roundness. Some of the coral stones were very large, on