Читать книгу The Voyage of the Endeavour - G Arnold Wood - Страница 12

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If Torres saw Australia—we cannot be sure that he did—he was not the first European who saw Australia. About March 1606—six months before Torres sailed through the strait—a Dutch ship, the Duyfken, coming from the West, sailed along the Southern coast of New Guinea, crossed the strait—wondering whether it was a strait—and then sailed a good way down what we call Cape York Peninsula. So Dutchmen were the first Europeans who certainly saw Australia; and, during the next thirty-eight years, Dutchmen discovered all that was known of Australia and of New Zealand when Captain Cook sailed in the Endeavour.

The Dutch came to the East because they were at war with Spain. We remember how, while Elizabeth ruled England, the tyranny of Philip II. and the cruelty of Alva made the Dutch rise in rebellion, fight their War of Independence, and found the Dutch Republic. Now the Dutch fought this war, as much as they possibly could, on sea; for, while the Spaniards were at that time the best soldiers in the world, the Dutch and the English were the best seamen in the world. Thousands of the Dutch were fishermen, more at home on sea than on land, and always ready for a big voyage. And their merchants, the best men of business in Europe, were always ready to send their splendid ships to trade with every country in the world—no country was too far away. Now merchant ships in those days easily became Dreadnoughts; and the Dutchmen soon had a fleet of two thousand war-ships manned by seamen "accustomed," as they boasted, "from our cradle to the ocean," who find it "difficult not to conquer soldiers and landsmen, qualmish at the smell of bilge-water, and sickening at the roll of the waves!" They smashed Spanish Armadas off the Dutch coast; they smashed them in the Mediterranean; and they went on smashing them till they smashed them at the end of the earth, and grabbed the spice-trade, which hitherto none but Spaniards and Portuguese might touch. For just as easily as a merchant ship became a Dreadnought, a Dreadnought became a merchant ship, and came home after victory, brimming over with cloves and nutmegs.

For nowhere did the Dutch as much wish to trade as in the Far East where the spices grew. In a few years they overthrew the Portuguese—who at this time were, as we have seen, subjects of the King of Spain—took their place as over-lords of the Indian Ocean, and made a Sea-Empire which spread "from Madagascar to Japan, from New Guinea to the Red Sea." They occupied St. Helena and the Cape as ocean taverns on the long sea-road between East and West. They occupied Mauritius, as a place whence they might explore the far South. They traded in the Red Sea, and in the Persian Gulf. They conquered Ceylon, and made trade-settlements in India. They captured the great Ocean Junction of Malacca, and passed the straits. They traded in China and Japan. They conquered the Spice Islands. In the big rich island of Java, they built the big rich city of Batavia, and sent ships to explore the unknown seas in the South. And that is why Dutchmen first saw Australia.

But we wonder, perhaps, why not Englishmen? For Englishmen also were at war with Philip of Spain. Englishmen also smashed Spanish Armadas. Englishmen also were traders, eager to get shiploads of cloves and nutmegs. And, in truth, Englishmen came to the Spice Islands before the Dutch. Drake came to them in his voyage round the world; and he made a treaty with a King of the Spice Islands which gave Englishmen—at least so Englishmen said—the sole right to buy spices. And a few years later Thomas Cavendish came the same way, and brought home stories of "the incomparable wealth of that country." "If it please Her Majesty," he said, "with a very small power she may take spoil of them all." So English traders, like Dutch traders, sailed well-armed to Indian Seas, smashed Portuguese ships, captured Portuguese forts, and brought home "precious cargoes." Like the Dutch traders, too, they made settlements in the Persian Gulf, in India, in the Spice Islands, in Java. Wherever Dutchmen came, there also came their dear old friends, the English; and one might guess that Dutchmen and Englishmen would probably turn up in Australia about the same time.

But in fact the first Englishman who turned up in Australia was William Dampier, who turned up in 1688, eighty-two years after the first Dutchman had turned up in 1606. And after Dampier's second visit in 1700, seventy more years passed before the next Englishman turned up—Captain James Cook. And the reason was that, in the Far East, Dutch and English, the dear old friends, became bitter enemies—and the Dutch won. The Spice Islands, it was true, had spices enough for Dutch and English and everybody else, and the reasonable and fair thing was to share them. But that was not the 17th Century way of doing business. A nation in those days must have, not a share of a trade, however big, but the whole of it. Greedy must have All. "No other nation in the world," said Dutchmen in plain Dutch, "shall have the least part." And they got their way. With great cruelty they drove Englishmen out of the islands altogether. And the mean and unpatriotic Stuart King, Charles I., put Dutch money into his pocket, and did nothing! So Englishmen had to be content with what then seemed the second-best. They withdrew to India. Dutchmen had the islands to themselves. And that is why Dutchmen, and not Englishmen, first saw Australia.

Dutchmen came to Australia by two paths:—

Firstly, as we have seen, they sailed along the South coast of New Guinea, till they came to a very dangerous tangle of islands, and sandbanks, and reefs. Whether there was a way through the tangle they could only guess. The seamen in the Duyfken (1606) guessed there was a way through. But when the seamen in a later voyage in the Pera and the Arnhem in 1623 tried to find it, they were "caught in the shallows as in a trap," and were very glad to get out of the trap by the way they got in. Their opinion was that it was not a passage, but a "shallow bight" or bay; though, after all, it was impossible to be sure. Anyway, the Dutch ships had to sail South past the tangle, whatever it might be, and they soon came to solid coastline again running South. It was what we call the Western coast of Cape York peninsula; but this the Dutchmen could not possibly know. If the tangle was not a passage, but a bay, this coast must be part of New Guinea, and they called it "New Guinea"—calling our New Guinea "West New Guinea."

They sailed down this coast nearly to the bottom of what they called the Gulf of Carpentaria, after the name of Governor-General Carpentier. But was it really a gulf? Or was it a passage right down South? One could only guess. Either a gulf or a passage it must be. For the Arnhem, one of the Dutch ships of 1623, was blown Westward across it, and discovered a land that was named "Arnhemsland." And later (in 1636) another Dutch ship came to a land, pretty near Arnhemsland which was named after the new Governor-General, "Van Diemen's Land"—a Van Diemen's Land in the North, observe, which we must distinguish from the more famous Van Diemen's Land in the South, discovered six years later.

Secondly, Dutch seamen came to Australia by a quite different path. They were sailing from the Cape to Java; and, instead of sailing by the old way along the coast of Africa, they tried a new way which proved far quicker. They sailed about 4000 miles Eastward from the Cape, before they turned North. Now if you sail about 4000 miles, or a little more, Eastward from the Cape and then aim at Java, you are bound to see the West coast of Australia; indeed you will be lucky if you don't actually run on to it, and get wrecked; as several Dutch ships actually were wrecked on the Abrolhos Islands. Captain after captain saw the coast of "the South Land," as they called it; and bit by bit their discoveries were pieced together till, in 1628, a Dutch geographer was able to draw a wonderfully accurate map which gave the Western coast of Australia from Cape Leeuwin to a river they called Willems River near North-West Cape, and the Southern coast from Cape Leeuwin to the Islands of St. Peter and St. Francis, about the head of the great Australian Bight.

So Dutchmen had discovered three separate scraps of coast—(1) the Western coast of our Cape York Peninsula, which they thought was probably a part of New Guinea; (2) Arnhemsland and Van Diemen's Land (of the North); (3) the coast between Willems River (near North-West Cape), and the head of the Australian Bight. And all these coasts were very bad in every respect. West and South were just as bad as North: "the most arid and barren region that could be found anywhere on the earth." Nothing grew that you could eat. You were lucky if you could dig up a little water, or find a puddle in a rock. There was nothing that even a Dutchman could make money out of. The natives were the ugliest, poorest, savagest, beastliest natives that had ever been seen by Dutch eyes!

Still a Dutchman does not like to leave a job unfinished, especially a job like this—a job so enormously big, as well as so enormously ugly—that some good thing must surely in the long run be found. Governor-General Van Diemen made up his mind that two things, at least, must be done. Firstly, you must fill in the gaps;—find what there is between the three separate stretches of coast now known; and find out in doing so, if you can, whether the tangle South of New Guinea is a bay or a strait. And, secondly, you must find out what is Southward and Eastward of all these lands. This most wretched of all countries is surely not the golden continent of the South! Perhaps it is merely a barren promontory of that golden continent. Perhaps the golden continent lies beyond, Southward or Eastward. We must see, said Governor-General Van Diemen. And he found a captain, named Abel Tasman, as skilful a seaman as ever came to Batavia, and eager to make voyages of discovery in the South. And in 1642 and 1644 Tasman made two voyages which put on the map everything that was on the map when Cook sailed in 1768.

The plan in 1642 was to find out what there was to the South and to the East of the bits of South Land that had been discovered. Tasman was to sail all round them. He had command of two ships, the Heemskirk and the Zeehaen. First, he went to Mauritius to get refreshments, and to make a good start for a summer voyage far down South. From Mauritius he sailed as far South as seemed safe, and then struck East, till he came to the land which he called "Van Diemen's Land," and which we call "Tasmania." He saw the two mountains on the West coast, which were afterwards called, after his two ships, "Mount Heemskirk" and "Mount Zeehan." Then he sailed round the South coast, and up the East coast as far as "Van der Lyns' Island"—our Freycinet Peninsula—whence he struck Eastward.

Now look at Dalrymple's map and see what Tasman has done. He has discovered another separate scrap of coast line. Of what lay to the North, between Van Diemen's Land and New Guinea, and of what lay to the North-West between Van Diemen's Land and Nuytsland (or the head of the Australian Bight) Tasman had not the least idea: and no one had the least idea till Cook filled in the one gap in 1770, and Flinders filled in the other gap in 1801. And the new scrap of coast line Tasman had discovered was a scrap which no one wanted to see again. Tasman landed at a place on the East Coast, which he described so well that we know exactly where it was. Mr. Moore-Robinson has taken a photograph of the place—now, as then, there is a group of trees on a shingle beach—and has put an X on the spot where the Dutch flag was placed. Tasman called it a "barren valley." The seamen saw no natives, but they saw notches on the trees five feet apart. They seemed to form "a kind of steps to enable people to get up the trees" and people who climb trees in five-foot steps must surely be "of very tall stature." A barren valley inhabited by giants did not seem a very promising discovery—though, no doubt, if the giants could be persuaded to order Dutch trousers, much good business would be done.

Then Tasman sailed Eastward, till he came to land which we should describe as the North-West corner of the South island of New Zealand. He sailed along it northward till he came to the cape which the next corner, Captain Cook, when about to sail away from New Zealand along the course by which Tasman had come to it, called Cape Farewell. Rounding it, he saw a large open bay, and thought it a good place to get refreshments. Maori prows rowed out, and an artist made a splendid sketch of them. The Dutch launched a boat in a friendly way. Whereupon the people in one of the prows paddling furiously—Maoris rowed in the style of a University Eight—rammed the boat, hit the seamen with short thick clubs, and killed four of them. Clearly this was no place for refreshment!

Tasman called the bay "Murderers' Bay," and sailed Eastward into a bay which seemed likely to end—so tides and currents made him think—in "a passage to the open South sea." He tried hard to get through; but wind and tide were against him. So on his map he drew, not a passage, but a bay which he called "Zeehan's Bight." I suspect, however, that he was by no means sure that it was not a passage. His Pilot drew a chart which shows that he, at all events, thought it probable that there was a passage. One hundred and twenty-seven years passed before the next comer, Captain Cook, sailed through the passage, and named it "Cook's Strait."

Then Tasman sailed along the coast Northward till he came to a Cape which he named "Maria Van Diemen's Cape"—Maria was the Governor-General's wife—and an island which he named the "Three Kings Island," "because we came to anchor there on twelfth night even."^* He sent a boat to the island, to see if water could be got. The seamen said there was plenty of good water coming down from a steep mountain, but the surf made landing impossible. They had seen persons of tall stature walking in enormous strides—persons akin no doubt to the giant tree-climbers of Van Diemen's Land. Again not a very promising discovery.

[* "Twelfth Night was the festival held on the "twelfth night" after Christ's birth, to commemorate the visit of the "three Kings" from the East.]

Tasman felt sure now that he had come to the northern end of the new-found land, and that Dutchmen would be able to sail round it, and attack their old enemy the Spaniard in South America—a thing they greatly wanted to do. So he could now sail northward for home. But what was this second scrap of coastline he had discovered? We could have told him that it was a scrap of the coastline of the two islands of New Zealand. But Tasman had no chance of knowing, or even of guessing, this. All he knew was that he had sailed along a scrap of coastline, running roughly North and South, with a bay or a passage in the middle. To him the most reasonable guess was that it was a bit of the continent which, the maps told you, filled up the whole unknown Southern Ocean. "It seems," he wrote, "to be a very fine country, and we trust it is the main-land coast of the unknown South-land." If a seaman had discovered this coastline thirty years before, he would have guessed that it ran straight on to Tierra del Fuego. But in 1616 a Dutch captain had sailed round Cape Horn—named after the town from which the ship sailed—so Tasman knew that the land he had discovered could not join Tierra del Fuego. But the same Dutch captain had seen a land on the East side of Tierra del Fuego, which, he believed, was a tip of the unknown continent, and he had called it "Staten Land." Tasman thought it likely that the land which he had just discovered went right round the South of Tierra del Fuego, and joined Staten Land; so he called it also "Staten Land" When, soon afterwards, it was found that the Staten Land on the East of Tierra del Fuego was an island, a new name had to be found for Tasman's discovery, and it was named "New Zealand." But it still seemed likely enough that it was a bit of "the mainland coast of the unknown-South"; and this still seemed likely when Cook approached it in the Endeavour in 1769.

Tasman now sailed Northward for home, meaning to call at the Solomons—if only he could find them—and then make for the northern coast of New Guinea. He came to the Tonga Islands, and had a very good time there. Then, sailing West, he got dangerously entangled among the Fiji Islands. There was talk of still sailing West, on a course that might have taken him to the New Hebrides—Quiros's Austrialia of the Holy Spirit—and have given him a chance to sail home by way of Torres Strait, as Torres had sailed when he left the New Hebrides. But Tasman had no knowledge of Torres' voyage through the strait; and he feared that, if he took this Westward course, he might be "cast aside into a bay, from which it might be difficult or impossible to beat out again." So he went North again, to look for the Solomons. He went a little too far North, and just missed them. Then he sailed along the Northern coasts of New Ireland and New Britain—without learning that they were islands—and so, along the fairly well-known northern coast of New Guinea, home to Batavia—"God be praised and thanked for this happy voyage. Amen."

The voyage of 1642 had added two more scraps of coastline to the three scraps already known. The plan of the voyage of 1644 was to fill in the gaps. Tasman sailed along the South coast of New Guinea, and tried his best to find out whether the tangle to the South was a strait or a shallow bight. His journal has been lost, so we do not know exactly what he did, or exactly what he thought. The map he made shows a shallow bight; but I suspect that, if you had talked over the matter with him, he would have told you that he had not dared to go far enough into "the trap" to make quite sure what was at the end of it. Then Tasman sailed down the known coast Southward, wondering whether the Gulf of Carpentaria was a gulf, or a passage that would bring him to the Van Diemen's Land of the South he had discovered two years ago. He found that the Gulf was a gulf, and he sailed along its coast till he came to the already known Arnhems Land and Van Diemen's Land of the North. The people were the same sort of people you always found in the South Land—"naked beach-roving wretches, destitute of rice, and not possessed of any goods worth mentioning, excessively poor, and of a malignant nature." Then he traced the coast from Van Diemen's Land of the North to the Northern end of the old discoveries on the West, finding there was a coast—or at least what looked more like a coast than it looked like an ocean passage. And then he sailed back to Batavia, and made the map which, 124 years later, Cook had on board the Endeavour, as the map which gave the very latest information about the ocean and the lands which he was to explore; save that Cook had just been told that Torres had sailed Southward of New Guinea.

Look again at Dalrymple's map, and see what he has done, and what he has left to be done. He has put on the map two and a half of the four sides of Australia—or "New Holland" as the South Land now came to be called. Going Westward from our Cape York, we find the coastline traced with wonderful accuracy all the way to the head of the Bight: But going Eastward from our Cape York, we find no coastline at all till we get to the head of the Australian Bight, save the tiny scrap which Tasman had discovered and had named Van Diemen's Land. There are two big gaps between this scrap of coast and New Guinea to the North and Nuytsland to the North-West, in which the coastline was still entirely unknown. No one could possibly say how far the unknown Eastern coast of New Holland bulged Eastward. It might fill up the whole ocean Westward of the line marked by the track of Tasman's ships. It might include Quiros's Austrialia of the Holy Ghost (the New Hebrides), and run quite near to the Solomons. Southward Tasman had proved that New Holland was not part of the unknown Southern Continent you saw on the map. That continent, no doubt, lay further South. It was likely enough that the scrap of coastline called Staten Land or New Zealand was one of its promontories; and that, if you sailed round its Northern point, you would find the coastline stretching South-Eastward right across the ocean till it rounded the South of Tierra del Fuego!

It seems strange that, after so much had been discovered between 1606 and 1644, nothing whatever was discovered between 1644 and 1769, though it was clear that ever so much remained to be discovered. And no one could have been more eager to make further discovery than was Anthony Van Diemen. "This vast and hitherto unknown South Land," he wrote to the Dutch rulers, "has by the said Tasman been sailed round in two voyages, and is thought to comprise eight thousand miles of land. Now it can hardly be supposed that no profits of any kind should be obtainable in so vast a country, situated under various Zones between 43½° (Tasmania) and 2½° (New Guinea). Thorough exploration of newly discovered lands is no work for the first comer. God grant that some silver or gold mine be hit upon." But the rulers in Holland were sick of the South Land. No doubt there might be gold there, but it would need a lot of looking for. The best gold mine, they thought, was trade with Asia. So Dutch voyages of discovery almost came to an end. Dutch ships now and then explored the partly known coasts of the West and North-West. But everything they saw was still very, very bad. New Holland was a hopeless place!