The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 3

By Author	[ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z \| Other Symbols ]
By Title	[ A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z \| Other Symbols ]
By Language

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon

We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 3
Author: Whymper, Frederick
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.

*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 3" ***

[Illustration: MORGAN’S ATTACK ON GIBRALTAR.]

THE SEA

_Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism._

F. WHYMPER,
AUTHOR OF “TRAVELS IN ALASKA,” ETC.

_ILLUSTRATED._

* * *

CASSELL, PETTER, GALPIN & CO.:
_LONDON, PARIS & NEW YORK_.
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS. PAGE
Who was the First Pirate?—The Society of Bucaniers—Home of the 1
Freebooters—Rise of the Band—Impecunious Spanish Governors and
their Roguery—Great Capture of Spanish Treasure—An Unjust
Seizure, but no Redress—Esquemeling’s Narrative—Voyage from
Havre—“Baptism” of the French Mariners—Other Ceremonies—At
Tortuga—Occupied and Reoccupied by French and Spanish—The French
West India Company—Esquemeling twice Sold as a Slave—He Joins the
Society of Pirates—Wild Boars and Savage Mastiffs—How the Wild
Dogs came to the Islands—Cruelty of the Planters—A Terrible Case
of Retribution—The Murderer of a Hundred Slaves—The First
Tortugan Pirate—Pierre le Grand—A Desperate Attack—Rich Prize
Taken—Rapid Spread of Piracy—How the Rovers Armed their
Ships—Regulations of their Voyages—“No Prey, no Pay”—The
richly-laden Vessels of New Spain—The Pearl Fisheries—An
Enterprising Pirate—Success and Failure—His Final Surrender
CHAPTER II.
THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).
The Pirate Portuguez—Another Successful Boat Attack—Re-taken—A 13
Gibbet or Life—Escape—Saved by Two Wine-jars—Helped by the
Pirates—Rich again—And suddenly Poor—A Dutch Pirate—From Sailor
to Captain—A Grand Capture—And a brutal Commander—No Surrender to
the Spaniards—Victory and Horse-flesh—The Rover’s Prodigality—A
Stratagem—Worse than Ever—The Spaniards reduce their
Commerce—Lewis Scot—John Davis—Outrages at Nicaragua—Piratical
Gains—Lolonois the Bad and Brave—His First Wounds—And his Early
Successes—Six Hundred and Sixty Pirates—The Capture of Maracaibo
and Gibraltar—Division of the Gains—His Brutalities—And Deserved
Death
CHAPTER III.
THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).
The Second Lolonois—Captain Henry Morgan—His first Successes—A 29
Pirate Fleet of Seven Hundred Men—Attack on a Cuban Town—Morgan’s
Form—Not to be Beaten—Puerto Bello—Morgan’s Strategy—The Castle
taken—Extravagant Demands—The Governor of Panama Derided—Return
to Jamaica—Their Dissipation—A Fresh Start—Maracaibo re-taken—A
Chance for Guy Fawkes—Gibraltar again—Cruel Tortures inflicted on
Prisoners—Horrible Brutalities—Arrival of a Spanish
Fleet—Morgan’s Insolence—Letter from the Spanish Admiral—“To the
Death!”
CHAPTER IV.
THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).
Attack resolved—The Fire-ship—Morgan passes the Castle—Off for 40
St. Catherine’s—Given up by a Stratagem—St. Catherine’s an Easy
Prey—Power of Fire—Thirty in Three Hundred Saved—The March on
Panama—A Pirate Band of Twelve Hundred—Sufferings on the Way—A
Pipe for Supper—Leather and Cold Water—Panama at Last—The First
Encounter—Resolute Fighting—Wild Bulls in Warfare—Victory for the
Pirates—Ruthless Destruction of Property—Cruelty to
Prisoners—Searching for Treasure—Dissatisfaction at the
Dividend—The Last of Morgan
CHAPTER V.
THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).
The Exploits of Captain Sawkins—Three Ships Attacked by 51
Canoes—Valiant Peralta—Explosion on Board—Miserable Sight on Two
Ships’ Decks—Capture of an Empty Ship—Dissatisfaction among the
Pirates—Desertion of Many—Message from the Governor of Panama—The
Pirate Captain’s Bravado—His Death—Fear inspired on all the
Southern Coasts—Preparations for Punishing and Hindering the
Bucaniers—Captain Kidd—His First Commission as Privateer—Turns
Pirate—The Mocha Fleet—Almost a Mutiny on Board—Kills his
Gunner—Capture of Rich Prizes—A Rich Ransom Derided—Grand
Dividend—Kidd Deserted by some of his Men—Proclamation of
Pardon—Kidd Excepted—Rushes on his Doom—Arrested in New
York—Trial at the Old Bailey—Pleadings—Execution with Six
Companions
CHAPTER VI.
THE PIRATES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Difference between the Pirates of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth 59
Centuries—Avery’s brief Career—A Captain all at Sea—Capture of
his Ship—Madagascar a Rendezvous for Pirates—A Rich Prize—The
Great Mogul’s Ship Taken—Immense Spoils—The Great Mogul’s
Rage—Avery’s Treachery—His Companions abandon their Evil Ways—The
Water-rat beaten by Land-rats—Avery dies in abject Poverty—A
Pirate Settlement on Madagascar—Roberts the Daring—Sails among a
Portuguese Fleet, and selects the best Vessel for his Prey—His
Brutal Destruction of Property—His End—Misson and
Caraccioli—Communistic Pirates—Their Captures—High Morality and
Robbery Combined—Their Fates
CHAPTER VII.
THE PIRATES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY (_concluded_).
Mary Read, the Female Pirate—As Male Servant, Soldier, and 67
Sailor—Her Bravery and Modesty—The Pirate Vane—No Honour among
Thieves—Delivered to Justice—The brief Career of Captain
Worley—The Biter Bit—A more than usually brutal Pirate—Captain
Low’s Life of Villainy—His Wonderful Successes—An unfortunate
Black Burned to Death—Torture of a Portuguese Captain—Of Two
Portuguese Friars—The Results of Sympathy—Low’s Cupidity defeated
by a Portuguese—Eleven Thousand Moidores dropped out of a Cabin
Window—An Unpunished Fiend
CHAPTER VIII.
PAUL JONES AND DE SOTO.
Paul Jones, the Privateer—A Story of his Boyhood—He Joins the 71
American Revolutionists—Attempt to Burn the Town and Shipping of
Whitehaven—Foiled—His Appearance at St. Mary’s—Capture of Lady
Selkirk’s Family Plate—A Letter from Jones—Return of the Plate
several Years after—A Press-gang Impressed—Engagement with the
_Ranger_—A Privateer Squadron—The Fight off Scarborough—Brave
Captains Pearson and Piercy—Victory for the Privateers—Jones Dies
in abject Poverty—A Nineteenth Century Freebooter—Benito de
Soto—Mutiny on a Slave Ship—The Commander left Ashore and the
Mate Murdered—Encounters the _Morning Star_—A Ship without a
Gun—Terror of the Passengers—Order to spare no Lives—A Terrified
Steward—De Soto’s Commands only partially observed, and the Ship
Saved—At Cadiz—Failure of the Pirate’s Plans—Captured, Tried, and
Hanged at Gibraltar
CHAPTER IX.
OUR ARCTIC EXPEDITIONS.
Our Latest Arctic Expedition—Scene at Portsmouth—Departure of the 84
_Alert_ and _Discovery_—Few Expeditions really ever pointed to
the Pole—What we know of the Regions—Admitted and Unadmitted
Records—Dutch Yarns—A Claimant at the Pole—Life with the
Esquimaux—A Solitary Journey—Northmen Colony—The Adventurer
kindly treated—Their King—Sun-worshippers—Believers in an Arctic
Hell—The Mastodon not Extinct—Domesticated Walruses—The whole
story a nonsensical _Canard_
CHAPTER X.
CRUISE OF THE _PANDORA_.
The Arctic Expedition of 1875-6—Its Advocates—The _Alert_ and 91
_Discovery_—Cruise of the _Pandora_—Curious Icebergs—The First
Bump with the Ice—Seal Meat as a Luxury—Ashore on a Floe—Coaling
at Ivigtut—The Kryolite Trade—Beauty of the Greenland Coast in
Summer—Festivities at Disco—The Belles of Greenland—A Novel
Ball-room—The dreaded Melville Bay—Scene of Ruin at
Northumberland House—Devastation of the Bears—An Arctic
Graveyard—Beset by the Ice—An Interesting Discovery—Furthest
Point Attained—Return Voyage—A Dreadful Night—The Phantom
Cliff—Home again
CHAPTER XI.
THE _ALERT_ AND _DISCOVERY_.
Nares’ Expedition—Wonderful Passage through Baffin’s Bay—Winter 99
Quarters of the _Discovery_—Capital Game-bag—Continued Voyage of
the _Alert_—Highest Latitude ever attained by a Ship—“The Sea of
Ancient Ice”—Winter Quarters, Employments, and Amusements—The
Royal Arctic Theatre—Guy Fawkes’ Day on the Ice—Christmas
Festivities—Unparalleled Cold—Spring Sledging—Attempt to Reach
the _Discovery_—Illness and Death of Petersen—The Ravages of
Scurvy—Tribute to Captain Hall’s Memory—Markham and Parr’s
Northern Journey—Highest Latitude ever reached—Sufferings of the
Men—Brave Deeds—The Voyage Home
CHAPTER XII.
THE FIRST ARCTIC VOYAGES.
Early History of Arctic Discovery—The Hardy Norseman—Accidental 115
Discovery of Iceland—Colony Formed—A Fisherman Drifted to
Greenland—Eric the Red Head—Rapid Colonisation—Early Intercourse
with America—Voyages of the _Zeni_—Cabot’s Attempt at a
North-West Passage—Maritime Enterprise of this Epoch—Voyage of
the _Dominus Vobiscum_—Of the _Trinitie_ and _Minion_—Starvation
and Cannibalism—A High-handed Proceeding—Company of the Merchant
Adventurers—Attempts at the North-East—Fate of
Willoughby—Chancelor, and our First Intercourse with Russia
CHAPTER XIII.
EARLY ARCTIC EXPEDITIONS.
Attempts at the North-West Passage—Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s 123
Advocacy—The One thing left undone—Frobisher’s Expeditions—Arctic
“Diggins”—A Veritable Gold Excitement—Large Fleet
Despatched—Disaster and Disappointment—Voyages of John
Davis—Intercourse with the Natives—His Reports concerning Whales,
&c.—The Merchants Aroused—Opening of the Whaling
Trade—Maldonado’s Claim to the Discovery of the North-West
Passage
CHAPTER XIV.
THE VOYAGES OF BARENTS.
North-Eastern Voyages of the Dutch—Barents reaches Nova 129
Zembla—Adventures with the Polar Bears—Large Trading Expedition
organised—Failure of the Venture—Reward Offered for the Discovery
of a North-East Passage—Third Voyage—Dangers of the Ice—Forced to
Winter on Nova Zembla—Erection of a House—Intense
Cold—Philosophical Dutchmen—Attacks from Bears—Returning
Spring—The Vessel Abandoned—Preparations for a Start—The Company
Enfeebled and Down-hearted—Voyage of 1,700 miles in Two Small
Boats—Death of Barents and Adrianson—Perils of Arctic
Navigation—Enclosed in the Ice—Death of a Sailor—Meeting with
Russians—Arrival in Lapland—Home once more—Discovery of the
Barents Relics by Carlsen—Voyages of Adams, Weymouth, Hall, and
Knight
CHAPTER XV.
VOYAGES OF HUDSON AND HIS SUCCESSORS.
Henry Hudson’s Voyages—Projected Passage over the Pole—Second 144
Expedition—A Mermaid Sighted—Third Voyage in the Dutch
Service—Discovery of the Hudson River—Last Voyage—Discovery of
Hudson’s Bay—Story of an Arctic Tragedy—Abacuk Pricket’s
Narrative—Their Winter Stay—Rise of a Mutiny—Hudson and Nine
Companions Set Adrift and Left to Die—Retribution—Four of the
Mutineers Killed—Sufferings from Starvation—Death of a
Ringleader—Arrival in Ireland—Suspicious Circumstances—Baffin’s
Voyages—Danish Expeditions to Greenland—Jens Munk and his
Unfortunate Companions—Sixty-one Persons Starved to Death—Voyage
of Three Survivors across the Atlantic—An unkingly King—Death of
Munk—Moxon’s Dutch Beer-house Story—Wood and Flawes—Wreck of
Wood’s Vessel—Knight’s Fatal Expedition—Slow Starvation and Death
of the whole Company—The Middleton and Dobbs’ Agitation—£20,000
offered for the Discovery of the North-West Passage
CHAPTER XVI.
EXPEDITIONS IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
Paucity of Arctic Expeditions in the Eighteenth Century—Phipps’ 154
Voyage—Walls of Ice—Ferocious Sea-horses—A Beautiful
Glacier—Cook’s Voyage—A Fresh Attempt—Extension of the Government
Rewards—Cape Prince of Wales—Among the Tchuktchis—Icy
Cape—Baffled by the Ice—Russian Voyages—The two Unconquerable
Capes—Peter the Great—Behring’s Voyages—Discovery of the
Straits—The Third Voyage—Scurvy and Shipwreck—Death of the
Commander—New Siberia—The Ivory Islands
CHAPTER XVII.
THE EXPEDITIONS OF ROSS AND PARRY.
Remarkable Change in the Greenland Ice-Fields—Immense Icebergs 162
found out of their Latitudes—Ross the First’s
Expedition—Festivities among the Danes—Interviews with
Esquimaux—Crimson Snow—A Mythical Discovery—The Croker
Mountains—Buchan’s Expedition—Bursting of Icebergs—Effects of
Concussion—The Creation of an Iceberg—Spitzbergen in
Summer—Animated Nature—Millions of Birds—Refuge in an
Ice-pack—Parry and his Exploits—His Noble Character—First Arctic
Voyage—Sails over the Croker Mountains
CHAPTER XVIII.
PARRY’S EXPEDITIONS (_continued_).
Five Thousand Pounds Earned by Parry’s Expedition—Winter 170
Quarters—Theatre—An Arctic Newspaper—Effects of Intense Cold—The
Observatory Burned Down—Return to England—Parry’s Second
Expedition—“Young” Ice—Winter at Lyon’s Inlet—A Snow Village in
Winter and Spring—Break-up of the Ice—The Vessels in a Terrible
Position—Third Winter Quarters—Parry’s Fourth Winter—The _Fury_
Abandoned—The Old _Griper_ and her Noble Crew
CHAPTER XIX.
PARRY’S BOAT AND SLEDGE EXPEDITION.
Parry’s Attempt at the Pole—Hecla Cove—Boat and Sledge 178
Expedition—Mode of Travelling—Their Camps—Laborious
Efforts—Broken Ice—Midnight Dinners and Afternoon
Breakfasts—Labours of Sisyphus—Drifting Ice—Highest Latitude
Reached—Return Trip to the Ship—Parry’s Subsequent
Career—Wrangell’s Ice Journeys
CHAPTER XX.
THE MAGNETIC POLE—A LAND JOURNEY TO THE POLAR SEA.
Sir John Ross and the _Victory_—First Steam Vessel Employed in 186
the Arctic—Discovery of the Magnetic Pole—The British Flag Waving
over it—Franklin and Richardson’s Journeys to the Polar Sea—The
Coppermine River—Sea voyage in Birch-bark Canoes—Return
Journey—Terrible Sufferings—Starvation and Utter
Exhaustion—Deaths by the Way—A Brave Feat—Relieved at
Length—Journey to the Mouth of the Mackenzie—Fracas with the
Esquimaux—Peace Restored
CHAPTER XXI.
VOYAGE OF THE _TERROR_.
Back’s effort to reach Repulse Bay—Nine Months in the Ice—The 196
_Terror_ Nipped and Crushed—A General Disruption—Extreme
Peril—Increase of Pressure—Providential Delivery—Another Nip—Bow
of the Ship Split—Preparations for Emergencies—The Crew—An early
Break-up—Frozen Again—A Tremendous Rush of Ice—The Day of Release
CHAPTER XXII.
FRANKLIN’S LAST VOYAGE.
Sir John Franklin and his Career—His Last Expedition—Takes the 201
Command as his Birthright—The last seen of his Ships—Alarm at
their Long Absence—The Search—A few Faint Traces Discovered by
Parry—A Fleet beset in the Ice—Efforts made to Communicate with
Franklin—Rockets and Balloons—M’Clure’s Expedition—Discovery of
the North-West Passage—Strange Arrival of Lieutenant Pim over the
Ice—The _Investigator_ Abandoned—Crew Saved—Reward of £10,000 to
M’Clure and his Ship’s Company
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FRANKLIN SEARCH.
The Franklin Expedition—The First Relics—Dr. Rae’s 215
Discoveries—The Government Tired of the Search—Noble Lady
Franklin—The Voyage of the _Fox_—Beset in the Ice for Eight
Months—Enormous Icebergs—Seal and Bear Hunts—Unearthly Noises
under the Floes—Guy Fawkes in the Arctic—The Fiftieth Seal Shot—A
Funeral—A Merry Christmas—New Year’s Celebration—Winter
Gales—Their Miraculous Escape—Experience of a Whaler—Breakfast
and Ship Lost together
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE LAST TRACES.
M’Clintock’s Summer Explorations—The Second Winter—Sledging 223
Parties—Snow Huts—Near the Magnetic Pole—Meeting with
Esquimaux—Franklin Relics Obtained—Objection of Esquimaux to
Speak of the Dead—Hobson’s Discovery of the Franklin Records—Fate
of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_—Large Quantity of Relics Purchased
from the Natives—The Skeleton on the Beach—Fate of Crozier’s
Party—“As they Fell they Died”—The Record at Point Victory—Boat
with Human Remains Discovered—The Wrecks never Seen—Return of the
_Fox_
CHAPTER XXV.
KANE’S MEMORABLE EXPEDITION.
Dr. Kane’s Expedition—His short but eventful Career—Departure of 232
the _Advance_—Dangers of the Voyage—Grinding Ice—Among the
Bergs—A Close Shave—Nippings—The Brig towed from the
Ice-beach—Smith’s Sound—Rensselaer Harbour—Winter Quarters—Return
of an Exploring Party—Fearful Sufferings—To the
Rescue—Saved—Curious Effects of Intense Cold
CHAPTER XXVI.
KANE’S EXPEDITION (_continued_).
Arrival of Esquimaux at the Brig—A Treaty Concluded—Hospitality 238
on Board—Arctic Appetites—Sledge Journeys—A Break-down—Morton’s
Trip—The Open Sea—The Brig hopelessly Beset—A Council
Called—Eight Men stand by the _Advance_—Departure of the
Rest—Their Return—Terrible Sufferings—A Characteristic Entry—Raw
Meat for Food—Fruitless Journeys for Fresh Meat—A Scurvied
Crew—Starving Esquimaux—Attempted Desertion—A Deserter brought
back from the Esquimaux Settlements
CHAPTER XXVII.
KANE’S EXPEDITION (_concluded_).
A Sad Entry—Farewell to the Brig—Departure for the South—Death of 247
Ohlsen—Difficult Travelling—The Open Water—The Esquimaux of
Etah—A Terrible Gale—Among the broken Floes—A Greenland Oasis—The
Ice Cliff—Eggs by the Hundred—An Anxious Moment—A Savage
Feast—The First Sign of Civilisation—Return to the
Settlements—Home once more
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HAYES’ EXPEDITION—SWEDISH EXPEDITIONS.
Voyage of the _United States_—High Latitude attained—In Winter 255
Quarters—Hardships of the Voyage—The dreary Arctic Landscape—Open
Water once more—1,300 Miles of Ice traversed—Swedish
Expeditions—Perilous Position of the _Sofia_
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE SECOND GERMAN EXPEDITION.
The First German Expedition—Preparations for a Second—Building of 258
the _Germania_—The _Hansa_—The Emperor William’s Interest in the
Voyage—The Scientific Corps—Departure from Bremerhaven—Neptune at
the Arctic Circle—The Vessels Separated among the Ice—Sport with
Polar Bears—Wedged in by the Grinding Ice—Preparations to Winter
on the Floe—The _Hansa_ lifted Seventeen Feet out of the Water—A
Doomed Vessel—Wreck of the _Hansa_
CHAPTER XXX.
ON AN ICE-RAFT.
A Floating Ice-Raft—The Settlement—Christmas in a New 263
Position—Terrible Storms—Commotion under the Ice—The Floe breaks
up—House Ruined—Water on the Floe—A Spectre Iceberg—Fresh Dangers
and Deliverances—Drifted 1,100 Miles—Resolution to Leave the
Ice—Open Water—Ice again—Tedious Progress—Reach Illuidlek
Island—Welcome at the Greenland Settlements—Home in
Germany—Voyage of the _Germania_—Discovery of Coal—A New
Inlet—Home to Bremen
CHAPTER XXXI.
HALL’S EXPEDITION—THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN EXPEDITION—NORDENSKJÖLD.
Captain Hall’s Expedition—High Latitude Attained—Open Water 268
Seen—Death of Hall—The _Polaris_ Beset—An Abandoned Party—Six
Months on a Floating Ice-floe—Rescue—Loss of the
Steamer—Investigation at Washington—The Austro-Hungarian
Expedition—The _Tegethoff_ hopelessly Beset in the Ice—Two Long
Weary Years—Perils from the Ice Pressure—Ramparts raised round
the Ship—The Polar Night—Loss of a Coal-hut—Attempts to Escape—A
Grand Discovery—Franz Josef Land—Sledging Parties—Gigantic
Glaciers—The Steamer Abandoned—Boat and Sledge Journey to the Bay
of Downs—Prof. Nordenskjöld’s Voyage—The North-East Passage an
accomplished Fact
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE ANTARCTIC REGIONS.
Has the South Pole been Neglected?—The Antarctic even more 276
Inhospitable than the Arctic—The Antarctic Summer—Search for the
_Terra Australis_—Early Explorers—Captain Cook’s
Discoveries—Watering at Icebergs—The Southern Thule—Smith’s
Report—Weddell’s Voyage—Dead Whale Mistaken for an
Island—D’Urville’s Adélie Land—Wilkes Land—Voyages of James
Ross—High Land Discovered—Deep Beds of Guano—Antarctic
Volcanoes—Mounts Erebus and Terror—Victoria Land
CHAPTER XXXIII.
DECISIVE VOYAGES IN HISTORY.—DIAZ—COLUMBUS.
An Important Epoch in the History of Discovery—King John II. of 281
Portugal and his Enterprises—Diaz the Bold—Ventures out to
Sea—Rounds the Cape—Ignorant of the Fact—The Cape of Storms—King
John re-christens it—Columbus and the Narrative of his Son—His
Visit to Portugal—Marriage—An un-royal Trick—Sends his Brother to
England—His Misfortune—Columbus in Spain—A prejudiced and
ignorant Report—The One Sensible Ecclesiastic—Again Repulsed—A
Friend at Court—Queen Isabella Won to the Cause—Departure of the
Expedition—Out in the Broad Atlantic—Murmurs of the Crews—Signs
of Land—Disappointment—Latent Mutiny—Land at Last—Discovery of
St. Salvador—Cuba—Natives Smoking the Weed—Utopia in
Hispaniola—Columbus Wrecked—Gold Obtained—First Spanish
Settlement—Homeward Voyage—Storms and Vows—Arrival in
Europe—Triumphant Reception at Barcelona
CHAPTER XXXIV.
DECISIVE VOYAGES IN HISTORY.—COLUMBUS—VASCO DA GAMA.
Columbus and his Enemies—Unsuitable Settlers—Outrageous Conduct 294
of the Colonists—The Second Expedition of Columbus—Discovery of
Jamaica—Dangerous Illness of Columbus—Return to Spain—The
Excitement over—Difficulty of Starting a New Expedition—Third
Voyage—Columbus reaches the Mainland of America—Insurrection in
Hispaniola—Machinations at Home—Columbus brought to Spain in
Chains—Indignation in Spain—His Fourth Voyage—Ferdinand’s
Ingratitude—Death of the Great Navigator—Estimate of his
Character—Vasco da Gama—First Voyage—The Cape reached—First Sight
of India—At Calicut—Friendship of the King of Cananore—Great
Profits of the Expedition—Second Voyage—Vengeance on the Ruler of
Calicut—His Brutality—Subsequent History of Da Gama
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE COMPANIONS AND FOLLOWERS OF COLUMBUS.
The Era of Spanish Discovery—Reasons for its Rapid 300
Development—Ojeda’s First Voyage—Fighting the Caribs—Indians and
Cannon—Pinzon’s Discovery of Brazil—A Rough Reception—Bastides
the Humane—A New Calamity—Ships leaking like Sieves—Economical
Generosity of King Ferdinand—Ojeda’s Second Voyage—The disputed
Strong-Box—Ojeda Entrapped—Swimming in Irons—Condemned
Abroad—Acquitted at Home—A Triumphant Client, but a Ruined Man—A
Third Voyage—Worthy La Cosa—Rival Commanders—A Foolish Challenge
CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE COMPANIONS AND FOLLOWERS OF COLUMBUS (_concluded_).
Nicuesa and the Duns of San Domingo—Indian Contempt for a Royal 308
Manifesto—La Cosa’s Advice Disregarded—Ojeda’s Impetuosity—A
Desperate Fight—Seventy Spaniards Killed—La Cosa’s Untimely
End—Ojeda found Exhausted in the Woods—A Rival’s Noble
Conduct—Avenged on the Indians—A New Settlement—Ojeda’s Charm
fails—A Desperate Remedy—In Search of Provisions—Wrecked on
Cuba—A Toilsome March—Kindly Natives—Ojeda’s Vow Redeemed—Dies in
Abject Poverty—The Bachelor Enciso and Balboa—Smuggled on Board
in a Tub—Leon and his Search for the Fountain of Youth—Discovery
of Florida—Magellan—Snubbed at Home—Warmly Seconded by the
Spanish Emperor—His Resolute Character—Discovery of the
Straits—His Death—The First Voyage round the World—Captain Cook’s
Discoveries—His Tragical Death—Vancouver’s Island

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
Morgan’s Attack on Gibraltar _Frontispiece_
Pirate Vessels (17th century) 4
Pierre Le Grand taking the Spanish Vessel 8
Pierre François attacking the Vice-Admiral 9
Escape of Portuguez 13
Brasiliano’s Escape _To face page_ 15
Map of Central America and the West India Islands 17
The Struggle with the Pirates at Gibraltar 21
Lolonois’ Fight with the Spaniards 25
On the Coast of Costa Rica 32
Blowing up of the French Pirate Ship 36
Morgan’s Attack on Maracaibo 40
Captain Henry Morgan 41
Captain Morgan’s Escape from Maracaibo 44
Burning of Panama 48
View of Panama 52
Avery chasing the Great Mogul’s Ship 61
Death of “Captain” Roberts 65
The Female Pirates 68
Paul Jones and Lady Selkirk 73
Paul Jones 77
De Soto chasing the _Morning Star_ 80
Cadiz 81
Captain Nares conducting H.R.H. The Prince of Wales
over the _Alert_ at Portsmouth
Departure of the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ from _To face page_ 85
Portsmouth
Sir George Nares 85
Cape Desolation 88
Map of the North Polar Regions 89
The Arctic Yacht _Pandora_
The Arctic Store Ship _Valorous_
Disco 93
Entrance to the Music Hall, Disco 96
Explorers Crossing Hummocks _To face page_ 97
The Monument to Bellot 97
Winter Quarters of the _Discovery_ 101
Winter Quarters of the _Alert_ 104
An _Alert_ Sledge Party _en route_ to the _Discovery_ 108
Sunshine in the Polar Regions 109
A Sledge Party starting for Cape Joseph Henry 112
Arrival of Lieutenant Parr on board the _Alert_ 113
Sebastian Cabot 120
Frobisher passing Greenwich 124
An Arctic Scene: Floating Ice 125
Martin Frobisher 128
An Iceberg breaking up _To face page_ 129
Nova Zembla, showing the route taken by Barents and 131
his Followers
Mock Suns, seen on 4th June, 1596, by Barents and his 132
Followers
Transporting Wood on Sledges for Building the House 133
Attacked by Bears 136
Repairing the Boat 137
Unloading, Dragging, and Carrying Boats and Goods 140
View on the Hudson 144
The Remnants of Knight’s Expedition 145
In Smith’s Sound 149
Mock Suns 152
Encounter with Sea-horses 156
Tchuktchi Indians Building a Hut 157
Sir John Ross 161
Fiskernæs, South Greenland 164
The _Dorothea_ and the _Trent_ in the Ice 165
Magdalena Bay, Spitzbergen _To face page_ 166
The North Cape 169
Esquimaux of West Greenland 172
An Esquimaux Snow Village 173
Captain Lyon and his Crew offering Prayers for their 177
Preservation
The Edge of the Pack 180
Dr. (afterwards Sir) John Richardson 185
Fort Enterprise 188
Richardson’s Adventure with White Wolves 189
Perrault Dividing his Little Store 192
Esquimaux Kaiyacks and Boat 196
The _Terror_ Nipped in the Ice 197
Back Addressing the Seamen 201
Sir John Franklin 205
The _Erebus_ and the _Terror_ among Icebergs _To face page_ 207
Cutting Ice Docks 208
Ice Mountains 209
Captain Robert Le Mesurier M’Clure 213
The Sledge Party of the _Resolute_, under Lieut.
Bedford Pim, Finding the _Investigator_
Back’s Great Fish River 217
Esquimaux Catching Seals 220
A Natural Arch in the Arctic Regions 221
Captain (afterwards Sir Leopold) M’Clintock 224
An Esquimaux Sledge and Team of Dogs _To face page_ 225
Cape York, Melville Bay 228
Relics brought back by the Franklin Search Expedition 229
Whale Sound, Greenland 233
Dr. Kane 236
Morton Discovers the Open Sea 241
Esquimaux Snow Houses 244
Kalutunah 245
Cape Alexander, Greenland 249
The Home of the Eider Duck 252
Godhavn, a Danish Settlement in Disco Island,
Greenland
The Schooner, _United States_, at Port Foulke 256
The House of the _Hansa_ on the Ice _To face page_ 260
A Young Bear chained to an Anchor 261
The Sun at Midnight in the Arctic Regions 264
The Funeral of Captain Hall 269
Start of Lieutenant Payer’s Sledge Expedition 272
Fall of the Sledge into a Crevasse 273
View of Cape Horn 277
Lisbon in the 16th Century 281
Bartholomew Diaz on his Voyage to the Cape 284
Christopher Columbus 285
Caravels of Columbus 288
Columbus’s First Sight of Land 289
Discovery of the Isle of Spain 292
Reception of Columbus by Ferdinand and Isabella _To face page_ 293
Ancient Gold-washing at St. Domingo 293
Columbus under Arrest 297
View of Calicut in the 15th Century 300
Vasco da Gama 301
Ojeda’s Attempted Escape 305
The Death of La Cosa 309
Arrival of Ojeda and his Followers at the Indian 312
Village
Ferdinand de Magellan 317

[Illustration]

THE SEA.

CHAPTER I.

THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS.

Who was the First Pirate?—The Society of Bucaniers—Home of the
Freebooters—Rise of the Band—Impecunious Spanish Governors and
their Roguery—Great Capture of Spanish Treasure—An Unjust Seizure,
but no Redress—Esquemeling’s Narrative—Voyage from Havre—“Baptism”
of the French Mariners—Other Ceremonies—At Tortuga—Occupied and
re-occupied by French and Spanish—The French West India
Company—Esquemeling twice sold as a Slave—He joins the Society of
Pirates—Wild Boars and Savage Mastiffs—How the Wild Dogs came to
the Islands—Cruelty of the Planters—A Terrible Case of
Retribution—The Murderer of a Hundred Slaves—The First Tortugan
Pirate—Pierre le Grand—A Desperate Attack—Rich Prize taken—Rapid
Spread of Piracy—How the Rovers armed their Ships—Regulations of
their Voyages—“No Prey, no Pay”—The richly-laden Vessels of New
Spain—The Pearl Fisheries—An Enterprising Pirate—Success and
Failure—His Final Surrender.

Who was the first pirate is a question easier to ask than to answer. We
may be sure, however, that not long after navigation had become a
recognised art the opportunities for robbery on the sea produced a breed
of “water-rats,” who infested the ocean, and were the terror of the honest
shipowner. That “hardy Norseman,” of whom we sing so pleasantly, was in
very truth nothing better; while some of the great names among the
mariners of the middle ages are, practically, those of pirates, whose
occupation bore the stamp of semi-legality from royal sanction, directly
given or implied.

But the society of pirates, of which the following chapters will furnish
some account, was, _sui generis_, the greatest on record, and was
formidable even to the great Powers of Europe. “It preserved itself
distinct from all the more regular and civilised classes of mankind, in
defiance of the laws and constitutions by which other nations and
societies were governed. In their history we find a perpetual mixture of
justice and cruelty, fair retaliation and brutal revenge, of rebellion and
subordination, of wise laws and desperate passions, such as no other
confederacy ever exhibited, and which kept them together as a body, until
the loss of their bravest and best leaders, who could not be replaced,
obliged them to return to the more peaceable arts of life, and again to
mix with nations governed by law and discipline.”(1) The origin of the
term _bucaneer_, or _bucanier_, is not to be very easily traced; it has an
allusion to those who dried the flesh of wild cattle and fish after the
manner of the Indians, and was first applied to the French settlers of St.
Domingo, who had at first no other employment than that of hunting bulls
or wild boars, in order to sell their hides or flesh. Many of them
subsequently became pirates, and the term was permanently applied to them.

The West Indies, for good reason, were long the especial home of the
freebooters. They abounded—as indeed they still abound—in little
uninhabited islands and “keys,” _i.e._, low sandy islands, appearing a
little distance above the surface of the water, with only a few bushes or
grass upon them. These islands have any quantity of harbours, convenient
for cleansing and provisioning vessels. Water and sea fowl, turtle and
turtle eggs, shell and other fish, were abundant. The pirates would,
provided they had plenty of strong liquor, want for nothing as regards
indulgence; and in these secluded nooks they often held high revel, whilst
many of them became the hiding-places for their ill-gotten treasures. From
them they could dart out on the richly-laden ships of Spain, France, or
England; while men-of-war found it difficult to pursue them among the
archipelago of islands, sand-banks, and shallows.

The rise of these rovers, or at least the great increase of them in the
West Indies, was very much due to the impecunious Spanish governors—hungry
courtiers, who would stick at no peculation or dishonesty that could
enrich them. They granted commissions—practically letters of marque—to
great numbers of vessels of war, on pretence of preventing interlopers
from interfering with their trade, with orders to seize all ships and
vessels whatsoever within five leagues of their coasts. If the Spanish
captains exceeded their privileges, the victims had an opportunity of
redress in the Spanish courts, but generally found, to their sorrow, that
delays and costs swallowed up anything they might recover. The frequent
losses sustained by English merchants during the latter half of the
seventeenth century led to serious reprisals in after years; a prominent
example occurred in 1716.

About two years previously, the Spanish galleons, or plate fleet, had been
cast away in the Gulf of Florida, and several vessels from the Havannah
(Cuba) had been at work with diving apparatus to fish up the lost
treasure. The Spaniards had recovered some millions of dollars, and had
carried it to the Havannah; but they had some 350,000 pieces on the spot,
and were daily taking out more. In the meantime, two ships and three
sloops, fitted out from Jamaica, Barbadoes, &c., under Captain Henry
Jennings, sailed to the gulf, and found the Spaniards then upon the wreck,
the silver before mentioned being deposited on shore in a storehouse,
under a guard. The rovers surprised the place, landing 300 men, and seized
the treasure, which they carried off to Jamaica. On their way they fell in
with a richly-laden Spanish ship, bound for the Havannah, having on board
bales of cochineal, casks of indigo, 60,000 pieces of silver, and other
valuable cargo, “which,” says the chronicler, “their hand being in, they
took,” and having rifled the vessel, let her go. They went away to Jamaica
with their booty, and were followed in view of the port by the Spaniards,
who, having seen them thither, went back to the Governor of the Havannah
with their complaints. He immediately sent a vessel to the Governor of
Jamaica, making representations as regards this robbery, and claiming the
goods. As it was in a time of peace, and contrary to all justice and right
that this piracy had been committed, the Governor of Jamaica could do
nothing else but order their punishment. They, however, escaped to sea
again, but not until they had disposed of their cargo to good advantage;
and being thus made desperate, they turned pirates, robbing not the
Spaniards only, but the vessels of any nation they met. They were joined
by other desperadoes, notably by a gang of logwood cutters from the Bays
of Campechy and Honduras. The Spaniards had attacked them and carried off
the logwood, but had humanely given them three sloops to carry them home.
But the men thought they could do better in piracy, and joined the
before-mentioned rovers.

And now to one of the historians, Joseph Esquemeling, whose record is
incorporated in the work on which these pages are founded, and who was
afterwards in company with such noted pirates as Lolonois, Pierre le
Grand, Roche Brasiliano, and others. He says:—

“Not to detain the reader any longer with these particulars, I shall
proceed to give an account of our voyage from Havre de Grâce in France,
from whence we set sail, in a ship called _St. John_, May the 2nd, 1666.
Our vessel was equipped with twenty-eight guns, twenty marines, and two
hundred and twenty passengers, including those whom the Company sent as
free passengers. Soon after we came to an anchor under the Cape of
Barfleur, there to join seven other ships of the same West India Company
which were to come from Dieppe, under convoy of a man-of-war, mounted with
thirty-seven guns and two hundred and fifty men. Of these ships two were
bound for Senegal, five for the Caribbee Islands, and ours for Tortuga.
Here gathered to us about twenty sail of other ships, bound for
Newfoundland, with some Dutch vessels going for Nantz, Rochelle, and St.
Martin’s, so that in all we made thirty sail. Here we put ourselves in a
posture of defence, having notice that four English frigates, of sixty
guns each, waited for us near Alderney. Our admiral, the Chevalier
Sourdis, having given necessary orders, we sailed thence with a favourable
gale, and some mists arising, totally impeded the English frigates from
discovering our fleet. We steered our course as near as we could to the
coast of France, for fear of the enemy. As we sailed along, we met a
vessel of Ostend, who complained to our admiral that a French privateer
had robbed him that very morning, whereupon we endeavoured to pursue the
said pirate; but our labour was in vain, not being able to overtake him.

[Illustration: PIRATE VESSELS (17TH CENTURY).]

“Our fleet, as we sailed, caused no small fears and alarms to the
inhabitants of the coasts of France, these judging us to be English, and
that we sought some convenient place for landing. To allay their fright we
hung out our colours, but they would not trust us. After this we came to
an anchor in the Bay of Conquet, in Brittany, near Ushant, there to take
in water. Having stored ourselves with fresh provisions here, we
prosecuted our voyage, designing to pass by the Pas of Fontenau, and not
expose ourselves to the Sorlingues, fearing the English that were cruising
thereabouts. The river Pas is of a current very strong and rapid, which,
rolling over many rocks, disgorges itself into the sea on the coast of
France, in 48 deg. 10 min. latitude, so that this passage is very
dangerous, all the rocks as yet not being thoroughly known.”

Esquemeling mentions the ceremony which, at this passage and some other
places, was used by mariners, and by them called “baptism.” The master’s
mate clothed himself with a ridiculous sort of garment which reached to
his feet, and put on his head a comically constructed cap, made very
burlesque; in his right hand he had a naked wooden sword, and in his left
a pot full of ink. His face was horribly blacked with soot, and his neck
adorned with a collar of many little pieces of wood. Thus apparelled he
ordered every one to be called who had never passed through that dangerous
place before, and then, causing them to kneel down, he made the sign of
the cross on their forehead with ink, and gave every one a stroke on the
shoulder with his wooden sword. Meanwhile, the standers-by threw a bucket
of water over each man’s head, and so ended the ceremony. But that done,
each of the baptised was obliged to give a bottle of brandy, placing it
near the mainmast, without speaking a word. If the vessel never passed
that way before, the captain was compelled to distribute some wine amongst
the mariners and passengers; other gifts, which the newly baptised
frequently offered, were divided among the old seamen, and of them they
made a banquet among themselves.

“The Hollanders likewise, not only at this passage, but also at the rocks
called Berlingues, nigh the coast of Portugal, in 39 deg. 40 min. (being a
passage very dangerous, especially by night, when in the dark the rocks
are not distinguishable, the land being very high), they use some such
ceremony; but their manner of baptising is very different to that of the
French, for he that is to be baptised is fastened and hoisted up thrice 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 every one is dipped several times
in the main ocean, but he that is dipped first has the honour of being
saluted with a gun. Such as are not willing to fall must pay twelve pence
for ransom; if he be an officer, two shillings; and if a passenger, at
their own pleasure. If the ship never passed that way before, the captain
is to give a small rundlet of wine, which, if he denies, the mariners may
cut off the stern of the vessel. All the profit accruing by this ceremony
is kept by the master’s mate, who, after reaching their port, usually laid
it out in wine, which was drunk amongst the ancient seamen. Some say that
this ceremony was instituted by the Emperor Charles V., though it is not
amongst his laws.” After recording some similar ceremonies, we find
Esquemeling at Tortuga, their desired port, where they landed the goods
belonging to the West India Company.

Our chronicler, after describing the abundant fruits and fine trees, the
flocks of wild pigeons and abundance of turtle—from which the island
derives its name, being supposed to resemble one in the general outline of
its coasts—speaks of the multitudes of large crabs, both of land and sea.
“These,” naïvely says the narrator, “are good to feed servants and slaves,
whose palates they please, but are very hurtful to the sight; besides,
being eaten too often they cause great giddiness in the head, with much
weakness of the brain, so that very frequently they are deprived of sight
for a quarter of an hour.”

The French, having settled on the Isle of St. Christopher, planted there
some large trees, of which they built long boats, and in which they
proceeded to discover neighbouring islands. They first reached Hispaniola,
where they landed, and found large quantities of cattle, horses, and wild
boars, but did not stop there, as there was already a considerable colony
of Spaniards. They proceeded to the neighbouring island of Tortuga, which
they seized without difficulty, there being not more than ten or twelve
Spaniards in possession. The French were afterwards obliged to abandon it.
In 1664 it was occupied by the West India Company of France, who sent
thither Monsieur Ogeron as governor. The company expected considerable
trade, and even went so far as to give a large amount of trust both to the
pirates and to traders. This, as might be expected, did not answer, and
they had to resort to force of arms in order to collect some of their
payments. To make a long story short, the Company eventually recalled
their factors, and sold the servants as slaves. On this occasion
Esquemeling was also sold, being a servant of the said Company, and
received very hard usage from his first master, the lieutenant-general of
the island. Fortunately for himself, he fell sick, and his master, fearing
to lose him altogether, sold him cheaply to a surgeon, who treated him
humanely, and he soon recovered his health. After having served him one
year, he was offered his liberty on a promise to pay a ransom when he was
in a position to do so. “Being,” says the chronicler, “now at liberty,
though like Adam when he was just created—that is, naked and destitute of
all human necessaries—not knowing how to get my living, I determined to
enter into the order of pirates or robbers at sea. Into this society I was
received with common consent, both of the superior and vulgar sort, where
I continued till 1672. Having assisted them in all their designs and
attempts, and served them in many notable exploits, I returned to my own
native country.”

After some very graphic descriptions of the alligators and other animals,
he gives some interesting particulars respecting the numerous wild
mastiffs and boars of the island, the former of which were introduced by
the bucaniers. He says:—

“The Governor of Tortuga, Monsieur Ogeron, finding that the wild dogs
killed so many of the wild boars that the hunters of that island had much
ado to find any, fearing lest that common sustenance of the island should
fail, sent for a great quantity of poison from France to destroy the wild
mastiffs. This was done anno 1668, by commanding horses to be killed and
empoisoned, and laid open at certain places where the wild dogs used to
resort. This being continued for six months, there were killed an
incredible number; and yet all this could not exterminate and destroy the
race, or scarce diminish them, their number appearing almost as large as
before. These wild dogs are easily tamed among men, even as tame as
ordinary house-dogs. The hunters of those parts, whenever they find a wild
bitch with whelps, commonly take away the puppies and bring them home,
which, being grown up, they hunt much better than other dogs.

“But here the curious reader may perhaps inquire how so many wild dogs
came here. The occasion was, the Spaniards having possessed these isles,
found them peopled with Indians—a barbarous people, sensual and brutish,
hating all labour, and only inclined to killing and making war against
their neighbours: not out of ambition, but only because they agreed not
with themselves in some common terms of language; and perceiving the
dominion of the Spaniards laid great restrictions upon their lazy and
brutish customs, they conceived an irreconcilable hatred against them, but
especially because they saw them take possession of their kingdoms and
dominions. Hereupon they made against them all the resistance they could,
opposing everywhere their designs to the utmost; and the Spaniards,
finding themselves cruelly hated by the Indians, and nowhere secure from
their treacheries, resolved to extirpate and ruin them, since they could
neither tame them by civility nor conquer them with the sword. But the
Indians—it being their custom to make the woods their chief places of
defence—at present made these their refuge whenever they fled from the
Spaniards. Hereupon, those first conquerors of the new world made use of
dogs to range and search the intricatest thickets of woods and forests for
those their implacable and unconquerable enemies; thus they forced them to
leave their old refuge, and submit to the sword, seeing no milder usage
would do it; hereupon they killed some of them, and, quartering their
bodies, placed them in the highways, that others might take warning from
such a punishment. But this severity proved of ill consequence, for
instead of frighting them and reducing them to civility, they conceived
such horror of the Spaniards that they resolved to detest and fly their
sight for ever; hence the greatest part died in caves and subterraneous
places of the woods and mountains, in which places I myself have often
seen great numbers of human bones. The Spaniards, finding no more Indians
to appear about the woods, turned away a great number of dogs they had in
their houses, and they, finding no masters to keep them, betook themselves
to the woods and fields to hunt for food to preserve their lives; thus by
degrees they became unacquainted with houses, and grew wild. This is the
truest account I can give of the multitudes of wild dogs in these parts.

“But besides these wild mastiffs, here are also great numbers of wild
horses everywhere all over the island; they are but low of stature,
short-bodied, with great heads, long necks, and big or thick legs: in a
word, they have nothing handsome in their shape. They run up and down
commonly in troops of 200 or 300 together, one going always before to lead
the multitude. When they meet any person travelling through the woods or
fields, they stand still, suffering him to approach until he can almost
touch them, and then, suddenly starting, they betake themselves to flight,
running away as fast as they can. The hunters catch them only for their
skins, though sometimes they preserve their flesh likewise, which they
harden with smoke, using it for provisions when they go to sea.

“Here would be also wild bulls and cows in great number, if by continual
hunting they were not much diminished; yet considerable profit is made to
this day by such as make it their business to kill them. The wild bulls
are of a vast bigness of body, and yet they hurt not any one except they
be exasperated. Their bodies are from eleven to thirteen feet long.”

The cruelty of many of the planters to their slaves, some of whom were
kidnapped Europeans, was revolting. A terrible case is that of one of them
who had behaved so brutally to a servant that the latter ran away; after
having taken refuge in the woods for some days, he was captured, and
brought back to the wicked Pharaoh. No sooner had he got him than he
commanded him to be tied to a tree, where he gave him so many lashes on
his back that his body ran with an entire stream of blood. Then, to make
the smart of his wounds the greater, he anointed him with lemon-juice
mixed with salt and pepper. In this miserable posture he left him tied to
the tree for four-and-twenty hours, after which he began his punishment
again, lashing him again so cruelly that the miserable wretch gave up the
ghost, with these dying words:—“I beseech the Almighty God, creator of
heaven and earth, that He permit the wicked spirit to make thee feel as
many torments before thy death as thou hast caused me to feel before
mine!” The sequel is worthy the attention of those who believe in earthly
retribution. “Scarce three or four days were past after this horrible fact
when the Almighty Judge, who had heard the cries of that tormented wretch,
suffered the evil one suddenly to possess this barbarous and inhuman
homicide, so that those cruel bonds which had punished to death his
innocent servant were the tormentors of his own body; for he beat himself
and tore his own flesh after a miserable manner till he lost the very
shape of a man, not ceasing to howl and cry without any rest by day or
night. Thus he continued raving mad till he died. Many other examples of
this kind I could rehearse. The planters of the Caribbee Islands are
rather worse and more cruel to their servants than the former. In the Isle
of St. Christopher a planter was known to have killed above a hundred of
his slaves with blows and stripes.” And, if Esquemeling is to be believed,
the English planters of the period were little better.

[Illustration: PIERRE LE GRAND TAKING THE SPANISH VESSEL.]

The first pirate of Tortuga was Pierre le Grand, or Peter the Great. He
was born at Dieppe, in Normandy. The action which rendered him famous was
his taking the vice-admiral’s ship of the Spanish fleet, near the Cape of
Tiburon, on the west side of Hispaniola; this he performed with only one
boat and twenty-eight men. Until that time the Spaniards had passed and
re-passed with all security through the channel of Bahama; so that Pierre
le Grand, setting out to sea by the Caycos, took this grand ship with all
the ease imaginable. The Spaniards found aboard were set ashore, and the
vessel was sent to France. “The manner how this undaunted spirit attempted
and took this large ship,” says the narrator, “I shall give you out of the
journal of the author in his own words, ‘The boat,’ says he, ‘wherein
Pierre le Grand was with his companions had been at sea a long time
without finding any prize worth his taking, and their provisions beginning
to fail, they were in danger of starving. Being almost reduced to despair,
they spied a great ship of the Spanish flota separated from the rest; this
vessel they resolved to take, or die in the attempt. Hereupon they sailed
towards her to view her strength. And though they judged the vessel to be
superior to theirs, yet their covetousness and the extremity they were
reduced to made them venture. Being come so near that they could not
possibly escape, they made an oath to their captain, Pierre le Grand, to
stand by him to the last. ’Tis true, the pirates did believe they should
find the ship unprovided to fight, and therefore the sooner master her. It
was in the dusk of the evening they began to attack; but before they
engaged they ordered the surgeon of the boat to bore a hole in the sides
of it, that their own vessel sinking under them, they might be compelled
to attack more vigorously, and endeavour more hastily to board the ship.
This was done accordingly; and without any other arms than a pistol in one
hand and a sword in the other, they immediately climbed up the sides of
the ship, and ran altogether into the great cabin, where they found the
captain, with several of his companions, playing at cards. Here they set a
pistol to his breast, commanding him to deliver up the ship. The
Spaniards, surprised to see the pirates on board their ship, cried,
“Jesus, bless us! Are these devils, or what are they?” Meanwhile some of
them took possession of the gun-room, and seized the arms, killing as many
as made any opposition; whereupon the Spaniards presently surrendered.
That very day the captain of the ship had been told by some of the seamen
that the boat which was in view cruising was a boat of pirates, whom the
captain slightly answered, “What, then, must I be afraid of such a pitiful
thing as that is? No! though she were a ship as big and as strong as mine
is.” As soon as Pierre le Grand had taken this rich prize, he detained in
his service as many of the common seamen as he had need of, setting the
rest ashore, and then set sail for France, where he continued without ever
returning to America again.’”

The planters and hunters of Tortuga had no sooner heard of the rich prize
those pirates had taken than they resolved to follow their example. Many
of them left their employments, and endeavoured to get some small boats
wherein to exercise piracy; but not being able to purchase or build them
in Tortuga, they set out in their canoes, and sought them elsewhere. With
these they cruised at first upon Cape de Alvarez, where the Spaniards used
to trade from one city to another in small vessels, in which they carried
hides, tobacco, and other commodities to the Havannah, and to which the
Spaniards from Europe frequently resorted.

Here it was that those pirates at first took a great many boats laden with
the before-mentioned commodities; these they used to carry to Tortuga, and
sell the whole purchase to the vessels that waited for their return or
accidentally happened to be there. With the gains of these prizes they
provided themselves with necessaries wherewith to undertake other voyages,
some of which were made to Campechy, and others toward Hispaniola, in both
which the Spaniards then drove a good trade. Upon those coasts they found
great numbers of trading vessels, and often ships of great burden. Two of
the biggest of these vessels, and two great ships which the Spaniards had
laden with plate in the port of Campechy to go to the Caraccas, they took
in less than a month’s time, and carried to Tortuga, when the people of
the whole island, encouraged by their success—especially seeing in two
years the riches of the country so much increased—they augmented the
number of freebooters so fast, that in a little time there were in that
small island and port above twenty pirate-ships. The Spaniards, not able
to bear their robberies any longer, equipped two large men-of-war, both
for the defence of their own coasts and to cruise upon the enemy’s. We
shall see the result.

Before the pirates went to sea they gave notice to all concerned of the
day on which they were to embark, obliging each man to bring as many
pounds of powder and ball as they thought necessary. Being all come
aboard, they consulted as to where to get provisions, especially flesh,
seeing they scarcely used anything else: this was ordinarily pork and
tortoise, which they salted a little; sometimes they robbed the hog-yards,
where the Spaniards often had a thousand head of swine together. They
approached these places in the night, and having beset the keeper’s lodge,
would force him to rise and give them as many head as they desired,
threatening to kill him if he refused or made any noise; and these menaces
were oftentimes executed on the miserable swine-keepers or any other
person that endeavoured to hinder their robberies.

Having got flesh sufficient for their voyage, they returned to the ship.
Here every one was allowed, twice a day, as much as he could eat, without
weight or measure; nor did the steward of the vessel give any more flesh,
nor anything else, to the captain than to the meanest mariner. “The ship
being well victualled, they would deliberate whether they should go to
seek their desperate fortunes, and likewise agree upon certain articles,
which were put in writing, which every one was bound to observe; and all
of them, or the chiefest part, set their hands to it. Here they set down
distinctly what sums of money each particular person ought to have for
that voyage, the fund of all the payments being what was netted by the
whole expedition, for otherwise it was the same law among these people as
other pirates—‘No prey, no pay.’ First, therefore, they calculated how
much the captain was to have for his ship; next the salary of the
carpenter or shipwright who careened, mended, and rigged the vessel; this
commonly amounted to one hundred or one hundred and fifty pieces of
eight,(2) according to the agreement. Afterwards, for provisions and
victualling, they drew out of the same common stock about two hundred
pieces of eight; also a salary for the surgeon and his medicine chest,
which usually is rated at two hundred or two hundred and fifty pieces of
eight. Lastly, they agreed what rate each one ought to have that was
either wounded or maimed in his body, or should suffer the loss of any
limb: as, for the loss of a right arm, six hundred pieces of eight, or six
slaves; for the left arm, five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves;
for a right leg, five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for the
left leg, four hundred pieces of eight, or four slaves; for an eye, one
hundred pieces of eight, or one slave; for a finger, the same as for an
eye: all which sums were taken out of the common stock of what was
gathered by their piracy, and a very exact and equal dividend was made of
the remainder. They had also regard to qualities and places; thus, the
captain or chief was allotted five or six portions to what the ordinary
seamen had, the master’s mate only two, and other officers proportionately
to their employ; after which they drew equal parts, from the highest to
the lowest mariner, the boys not being omitted, who drew a half share,
because when they take a better vessel than their own it was the boys’
duty to fire the former vessel, and then retire to the prize.”

They observed among themselves very good order; for in the prizes which
they took it was severely prohibited to any one to take anything for
themselves; hence all they got was equally divided. They took a solemn
oath to each other not to conceal the least thing they might find among
the prizes; and if any one was found false to his oath he was immediately
turned out of the society. They were very kind and charitable to each
other, so that if any one wanted what another had, he was immediately
supplied. As soon as these pirates had taken a prize, they immediately set
ashore the prisoners, detaining only some few for their own help and
service, whom also they released after two or three years. They refreshed
themselves at one island or another, but especially at those on the south
of Cuba; here they careened their vessels, while some went hunting, and
others cruised in canoes for prizes. They often took the poor turtle
fishermen, and made them work during their pleasure.

[Illustration: PIERRE FRANÇOIS ATTACKING THE _VICE-ADMIRAL_.]

The inhabitants of New Spain and Campechy were wont to lade their best
merchandise in ships of great bulk; the vessels from Campechy sailed in
the winter to Caraccas, the Trinity Isles, and that of Margarita, and
returned back again in the summer. The pirates, knowing these seasons (and
thoroughly alive to the situation), always cruised between the places
above-mentioned; but in case they lighted on no considerable booty,
commonly undertook some more hazardous enterprise; “one remarkable
instance of which,” says our chronicler, “I shall here give you. A certain
pirate, called Pierre François, or Peter Francis, waiting a long time at
sea with his boat and twenty-six men for the ships that were to return
from Maracaibo to Campechy, and not being able to find any prey, at last
he resolved to direct his course to Rancheiras, near the River de la
Plata, in 12½° north latitude. Here lies a rich bank of pearl, to the
fishery whereof they yearly sent from Carthagena twelve vessels, with a
man-of-war for their defence. Every vessel has at least two negroes, who
are very dexterous in diving to the depth of six fathoms, where they find
good store of pearls. On this fleet, called the Pearl Fleet, Pierre
François resolved to venture rather than go home empty. They then rode at
anchor at the mouth of the River de la Hacha, the man-of-war scarce half a
league distant from the small ships, and the wind very calm. Having spied
them in this posture, he presently pulled down his sails and rowed along
the coast, feigning to be a Spanish vessel coming from Maracaibo; but no
sooner was he come to the pearl-bank, when suddenly he assaulted the
_Vice-Admiral_, of eighty guns and sixty men, commanding them to
surrender. The Spaniards made a good defence for some time, but at last
were forced to submit. Having thus taken the _Vice-Admiral_, he resolved
to attempt the man-of-war, with which addition he hoped to master the rest
of the fleet. To this end he presently sunk his own boat, putting forth
the Spanish colours, and weighed anchor with a little wind which then
began to stir, having with threats and promises compelled most of the
Spaniards to assist him; but so soon as the man-of-war perceived one of
his fleet to sail, he did so too, fearing lest the mariners designed to
run away with the riches they had on board. The pirates on this
immediately gave over the enterprise, thinking themselves unable to
encounter force to force; hereupon they endeavoured to get out of the
river and gain the open seas by making as much sail as they could; which
the man-of-war perceiving, he presently gave them chase, but the pirates
having laid on too much sail, and a gust of wind presently rising, their
mainmast was brought by the board, which disabled them from escaping.

“This unhappy event much encouraged those in the man-of-war, they gaining
upon the pirates every moment, and at last overtook them; but they,
finding they had twenty-two sound men, the rest being either killed or
wounded, resolved to defend themselves as long as possible. This they
performed very courageously for some time, till they were forced by the
man-of-war, on condition that they should not be used as slaves to carry
stones, or be employed in other labours for three or four years, as they
served their negroes, but that they should be set safe on shore on free
land. On these articles they yielded, with all they had taken, which was
worth in pearls alone above 100,000 pieces of eight, besides the vessel,
provisions, goods, &c., all of which would have made this a greater prize
than he could desire: which he had certainly carried off if his mainmast
had not been lost, as we said before.”

[Illustration: ESCAPE OF PORTUGUEZ.]

CHAPTER II.

THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).

The Pirate Portuguez—Another Successful Boat Attack—Re-taken—A
Gibbet or Life—Escape—Saved by Two Wine-jars—Helped by the
Pirates—Rich again—And suddenly Poor—A Dutch Pirate—From Sailor to
Captain—A grand Capture—And a brutal Commander—No Surrender to the
Spaniards—Victory and Horse-flesh—The Rover’s Prodigality—A
Stratagem—Worse than ever—The Spaniards reduce their
Commerce—Lewis Scot—John Davis—Outrages at Nicaragua—Piratical
Gains—Lolonois the Bad and Brave—His First Wounds—And his Early
Successes—Six Hundred and Sixty Pirates—The Capture of Maracaibo
and Gibraltar—Division of the Gains—His Brutalities—And Deserved
Death.

Bold attempts were the order of the day. A certain pirate named Portuguez
was cruising off the Cape Coriente in Cuba, where he met a ship from
Maracaibo and Carthagena bound to the Havannah provided with twenty
“great” guns of the period, and seventy passengers and crew. This ship he
attacked, and was at first beaten off. The assault was renewed on the part
of the pirates, and after a long and dangerous fight the rovers became the
victors. The Portuguese lost only ten men and had four wounded. But the
Spaniards had a much larger force in those waters.

Being very near the cape before-named, they unexpectedly met with three
vessels coming from New Spain, and bound for the Havannah; by these, not
being able to escape, they were easily re-taken, both ship and pirates,
and all made prisoners, and stripped of all the riches they had taken just
before. The cargo consisted of 120,000 weight of cocoa-nuts,(3) the chief
ingredient of chocolate, and 70,000 pieces of eight. Two days after this
misfortune there arose a great storm, which separated the ships from one
another. The great vessel, where the pirates were, arrived at Campechy,
where a number of merchants resided. The Portuguese pirate was well known
there for the outrages he had committed. The next day after their arrival,
the magistrates of the city sent to demand certain prisoners, but fearing
the Portuguese pirate might escape, kept him guarded on board, while they
erected a gibbet on shore, expecting to hang him next day. Bartholomew
Portuguez was too much for them, and managed to escape, after stabbing his
sentinel, and swimming ashore with the help of two wine-jars, as he was a
bad swimmer. He took to the woods, living on wild herbs, and secreted
himself for days in the hollow of a tree, while his enemies were searching
for him. Eventually he escaped, after travelling some forty leagues, a
fortnight after, half starved and exhausted, to Del Golpho Triste. He had
on his way made a boat or raft from a plank and some osiers. But at Golpho
Triste he met some of his own kidney—pirates of his own kind. They
naturally sympathised, and gave him a boat and twenty men. Eight days
after he accomplished his will. He took the boat to Campechy, and “with an
undaunted courage, and without any noise, he assaulted the said ship;
those on board thought it was a boat from land that came to bring
contraband goods, and so were not in no posture of defence; which
opportunity the pirates laying hold of, assaulted them so resolutely, that
in a little time they compelled the Spaniards to surrender. Being masters
of the ship, they immediately weighed anchor and set sail for the port,
lest they should be pursued by other vessels. This they did with the
utmost joy, seeing themselves possessors of so brave a ship; especially
Portuguez, who by a second turn of fortune was become rich and powerful
again, who was so lately in that same vessel a prisoner condemned to be
hanged. With this purchase he designed greater things which he might have
alone,” and so forth. Piracy did not prosper with him in the end, for his
vessel was afterwards lost, and he was never fortunate again.

“Not less considerable,” wrote Esquemeling, “are the actions of another
pirate who now lives at Jamaica, who on several occasions has performed
very surprising things. He was born at Groninghen, in the United
Provinces. His own name not being known, his companions gave him the name
of Roche Brasiliano, by reason of his long residence in Brazil; hence he
was forced to fly when the Portuguese took those countries from the Dutch,
several nations then inhabiting at Brazil (as English, French, Dutch, and
others) being constrained to seek new fortunes.

“This person fled to Jamaica, where, being at a stand how to get his
living, he entered into the society of pirates, where he served as a
private mariner for some time, and behaved himself so well that he was
beloved and respected by all. One day some of the mariners quarrelled with
that degree that they left the boat. Brasiliano, following them, was
chosen their leader, who, having fitted out a small vessel, they made him
captain.”

Within a few days after he took a rich plate ship coming from New Spain,
and carried it to Jamaica. This action brought him great reputation, and
he was, for the time, a great man ashore. He was, however, a terrible
brute when drunk—the average condition of the pirate on land—and would run
wildly about the streets, insulting, beating, or wounding any one he
chanced to meet. Pleasant Brasiliano!

[Illustration: BRASILIANO’S ESCAPE.]

To the Spaniards he was always barbarous and cruel, out of an inveterate
hatred against their nation. On several occasions he commanded men to be
roasted alive on wooden spits, for not showing hog-yards where he might
steal swine. After committing many such cruelties, as he was cruising on
the coasts of Campechy, a dismal tempest surprised him so violently that
his ship was wrecked upon the coasts, the mariners only escaping with
their muskets and some few bullets and powder, which were the only things
they could save. The ship was lost between Campechy and the Golpho Triste;
here they got ashore in a canoe, and, marching along the shore with all
the speed they could, directed their course towards Golpho Triste, the
common refuge of the pirates. On their journey, all very exhausted and
hungry, they were pursued by a troop of 100 Spaniards. The pirates were
but thirty; yet, seeing their brave commander resolute, they fought
bravely, and facing the troop of Spaniards, discharged their muskets on
them so dexterously that they killed one horseman almost with every shot.
The fight continued for an hour, till at last the Spaniards were put to
flight. They stripped the dead, and took from them what was most for their
use; such as were not quite dead they despatched with the ends of their
muskets.

“Having vanquished the enemy, they mounted on horses they found in the
field, and continued their journey, Brasiliano having lost but two of his
companions in this bloody fight, and had two wounded. Prosecuting their
way, before they came to the port they spied a boat at anchor from
Campechy, well manned, protecting a few canoes that were lading wood;
hereupon they sent six of their men to watch them, who next morning, by a
wile, possessed themselves of the canoes. Having given notice to their
companions, they boarded them, and also took the little man-of-war, their
convoy. Being thus masters of the fleet, they wanted only provisions, of
which they found little aboard those vessels; but this defect was supplied
by the horses, which they killed and salted, which by good fortune the
wood-cutters had brought with them, with which they supported themselves
till they could get better.

“They took also another vessel going from New Spain to Maracaibo, laden
with divers sorts of merchandise and pieces of eight, designed to buy
cocoa-nuts for their lading home; all these they carried to Jamaica, where
they safely arrived, and, according to custom, wasted all in a few days in
taverns and disorderly houses. Some of these pirates will spend two or
three thousand pieces of eight in a night, not leaving themselves a good
shirt to wear in the morning. My own master,” says Esquemeling, “would buy
sometimes a pipe of wine, and placing it in the street, would force those
that passed by it to drink with him, threatening also to pistol them if
they would not. He would do the like with barrels of beer or ale, and very
often he would throw these liquors about the streets and wet people’s
clothes, without regarding whether he spoiled their apparel.

“Among themselves these pirates are very liberal; if any one has lost all,
which often happens in their manner of life, they freely give him of what
they have. In taverns and alehouses they have great credit; but at Jamaica
they ought not to run very deep in debt, seeing the inhabitants there
easily sell one another for debt. This happened to my patron, to be sold
for a debt of a tavern wherein he had spent the greater part of his money.
This man had, within three months before, three thousand pieces of eight
in ready cash, all which he wasted in that little time, and became as poor
as I have told you.”

The history of a pirate is that of many another man made suddenly rich.
Brasiliano, after having spent all, naturally went to sea again, and set
forth for the coast of Campechy. Fifteen days after his arrival he took a
canoe, and went to examine the port, but his fortune failed, and he and
all his men were taken and committed to a dungeon. Doubtless they would
have all been hanged but for a stratagem of Brasiliano, which saved their
lives. He wrote a letter to the governor in the names of his fellow
pirates at sea, warning him of their power, and that their blood would be
on his head. The governor was frightened out of his wits, and released
them on the bare promise that they would not be pirates again. As a
nominal punishment, he sent them as drafts on the Spanish galleons, and
they went to Spain. They returned, to be worse pirates than ever.

The Spaniards about this period became so tired of sending vessels to sea
only to lose them, that they diminished the number considerably. But this
was of no avail, for the pirates then turned their attention to the
Spanish towns and settlements. One Lewis Scot sacked the city of Campechy,
which he almost ruined; another pirate, named Mansvelt, invaded New
Granada; while John Davis gave his unwelcome attentions to Nicaragua.

This freebooter, having long been unfortunate in his enterprises, resolved
on a desperate expedient. Leaving his ship hidden on the coast, he took
eighty out of ninety men which he had in all, and divided them in three
canoes. In the dark of night they entered the river leading to the city;
proceeding cautiously, they hid themselves by day under the thickly wooded
banks. On the third night they arrived at the city, at the outposts of
which, on the river, the guard allowed them to pass, as most of them spoke
Spanish, and he took them for fishermen. They had with them an Indian
guide who had run away from his master in Nicaragua, and he went ashore
and speedily despatched the sentinel. The pirate band then entered the
city, and knocked softly at the houses of several chief citizens, who,
believing them to be friends, opened their doors. The pirates soon
convinced them to the contrary, and rifled them of all the money and plate
they could find. The churches were pillaged and profaned. Meantime the
citizens collected their forces, and the pirates saw that they must get
away with the prisoners they had taken; “these they led away, that if any
of them should be taken by the Spaniards they might use them for ransom.
Thus they got to their ships, and with all speed put to sea, forcing the
prisoners, before they let them go, to procure as much flesh as was
necessary for their voyage to Jamaica. But no sooner had they weighed
anchor when they saw a troop of about 500 Spaniards, all well armed, at
the sea-side; against these they let fly several guns, wherewith they
forced them to quit the sands and retire, with no small regret to see
these pirates carry away so much plate of their churches and houses,
though distant at least forty leagues from the sea.” Davis and his men
divided the Spanish coin and jewels, to the value of about ten thousand
pounds in English money. The captain was afterwards chosen admiral of
seven or eight vessels, and pillaged a town in Florida, named St.
Augustine, although it possessed a castle protected by 200 men.

One of the most famous—or, more properly speaking, infamous—pirates of the
day was Francis Lolonois, a native of France. “In his youth he was
transported to the Caribee Islands, in quality of servant or slave,
according to custom, of which we have already spoken. Being out of his
time, he came to Hispaniola, where he joined for some time the hunters,
before he began his robberies upon the Spaniards, till his unfortunate
death.” These are Esquemeling’s words; some of his victims would hardly
endorse the latter opinion.

At first he made two or three voyages as a common mariner, and behaved
himself so courageously as to gain the favour of the Governor of Tortuga,
Monsieur de la Place, insomuch that he gave him a ship in which he might
seek his fortune, which was very favourable to him at first; for in a
short time he acquired a considerable amount of wealth.

[Illustration: MAP OF CENTRAL AMERICA AND THE WEST INDIA ISLANDS.]

“But his cruelties to the Spaniards were such that the latter in his time
would rather die, or sink fighting, than surrender, knowing they should
have no mercy at his hands. But he was overtaken by a reverse of fortune,
and lost his ship on the coast of Campechy. The men were all saved, but
upon landing, the Spaniards pursued them and killed the greater part,
wounding also Lolonois. Not knowing how to escape, he saved his life by a
stratagem: mingling sand with the blood of his wounds, he besmeared his
face and other parts of his body, and hiding himself dexterously among the
dead, continued there till the Spaniards quitted the field.

“They being gone, he retired to the woods, and bound up his wounds as well
as he could. These being pretty well healed, he took his way to Campechy,
having disguised himself in a Spanish habit; here he enticed certain
slaves, to whom he promised liberty if they would obey him and trust to
his conduct. They accepted his promises, and, stealing a canoe, went to
sea with him. Now the Spaniards having made several of his companions
prisoners, kept them close in a dungeon, while Lolonois went about the
town and saw what passed. These were often asked, ‘What has become of your
captain?’ To whom they constantly answered, ‘He is dead;’ which rejoiced
the Spaniards, who made bonfires, and, knowing nothing to the contrary,
gave thanks to God for their deliverance from such a cruel pirate.
Lolonois, having seen these rejoicings for his death, made haste to
escape, with the slaves above-mentioned, and came safe to Tortuga, the
common refuge of all sorts of wickedness, and the seminary, as it were, of
pirates and thieves. Though now his fortune was low, yet he got another
ship with craft and subtilty, and in it twenty-one men. Being well
provided with arms and necessaries, he set forth for Cuba, on the south
whereof is a small village called De los Cayos. The inhabitants drive a
great trade in tobacco, sugar, and hides, and all in boats, not being able
to use ships, by reason of the little depth of the sea.

“Lolonois was persuaded he should get here some considerable prey; but by
the good fortune of some fishermen who saw him, and the mercy of God, they
escaped him; for the inhabitants of the town despatched immediately a
vessel overland to the Havannah, complaining that Lolonois was come to
destroy them with two canoes. The governor could scarcely believe this,
having received letters from Campechy that he was dead; but at their
importunity he sent a ship to their relief, with ten guns and ninety men
well armed, giving them this express command, ‘that they should not return
into his presence without having totally destroyed those pirates.’ To this
effect he gave them a negro to serve them for a hangman, and orders that
they should immediately hang every one of the pirates excepting Lolonois,
their captain, whom they should bring alive to the Havannah. This ship
arrived at Cayos, of whose coming the pirates were advertised beforehand,
and, instead of flying, went to seek it in the river Estera, where she
rode at anchor. The pirates seized some fishermen, and forced them by
night to show them the entry of the port, hoping soon to obtain a greater
vessel than their two canoes, and thereby to mend their fortune. They
arrived, after two in the morning, very nigh the ship; and the watch on
board the ship asking them whence they came, and if they had seen any
pirates abroad, they caused one of the prisoners to answer that they had
seen no pirates nor anything else; which answer made them believe that the
pirates had fled upon hearing of their coming.

“But they soon found the contrary, for about break of day the pirates
assaulted the vessel on both sides with their two canoes with such vigour
that though the Spaniards behaved themselves as they ought, and made as
good defence as they could, making some use of their great guns, yet they
were forced to surrender, being beaten by the pirates, with sword in hand,
down under the hatches. From thence Lolonois commanded them to be brought
up one by one, and in this order caused their heads to be struck off.
Among the rest came up the negro designed to be the pirates’ executioner.
This fellow implored mercy at his hands very dolefully, telling Lolonois
he was constituted hangman of that ship, and if he would spare him he
would tell him faithfully all that he should desire. Lolonois, making him
confess what he thought fit, commanded him to be murdered with the rest.
Thus he cruelly and barbarously put them all to death, reserving only one
alive, whom he sent back to the Governor of the Havannah, with this
message in writing: ‘I shall never henceforth give quarter to any Spaniard
whatsoever, and I have great hopes I shall execute on your own person the
very same punishment I have done upon them you sent against me. Thus I
have retaliated the kindness you designed to me and my companions.’ The
governor, much troubled at this sad news, swore in the presence of many
that he would never grant quarter to any pirate that should fall into his
hands. But the citizens of the Havannah desired him not to persist in the
execution of that rash and rigorous oath, seeing the pirates would
certainly take occasion from thence to do the same, and they had a hundred
times more opportunity for revenge than he; that being necessitated to get
their livelihood by fishery, they should hereafter always be in danger of
their lives. By these reasons he was persuaded to bridle his anger, and
remit the severity of his oath.

“Now Lolonois had got a good ship, but very few provisions and people in
it; to purchase both which he determined to cruise from one port to
another. Doing thus for some time without success, he determined to go to
the port of Maracaibo. Here he surprised a ship laden with plate and other
merchandise, outward bound to buy cocoa-nuts. With this prize he returned
to Tortuga, where he was received with joy by the inhabitants, they
congratulating his happy success and their own private interest. He stayed
not long there, but designed to equip a fleet sufficient to transport five
hundred men and necessaries. Thus provided, he resolved to pillage both
cities, towns, and villages, and finally to take Maracaibo itself. For
this purpose he knew the island of Tortuga would afford him many resolute
and courageous men, fit for such enterprises; besides, he had in his
service several prisoners well acquainted with the ways and places
designed upon.”

Lolonois gave notice to a large number of the pirates, and gathered
together in a little while above 400 men, among whom was then in Tortuga
another freebooter, named Michael de Basco, who, by his piracy, had become
rich enough to live at ease and go no more abroad, having withal the offer
of major of the island. But seeing the great preparations that Lolonois
made for this expedition, he joined him, and offered him that if he would
make him his chief captain by land (seeing he knew the country very well,
and all its approaches) he would share in his fortunes and go with him.
This precious pair of thieves agreed, to the great joy of Lolonois, who
knew that Basco had done great things in Europe, and had the repute of
being a good soldier. Then they all embarked in eight vessels, that of
Lolonois being the greatest, having ten guns.

All things being ready, and the whole company on board, they set sail
together about the end of April, being in all about six hundred and sixty
persons. They steered for the port of Bayala, north of Hispaniola. Here
they took into their company some French hunters, who volunteered, and
provided themselves with victuals and necessaries for their voyage.

“From hence they sailed again the last of July, and steered directly to
the eastern cape of the isle called Punta d’ Espada. Hereabouts espying a
ship from Puerto Rico, bound for New Spain, laden with cocoa-nuts,
Lolonois commanded the rest of the fleet to wait for him near Savona, on
the east of Cape Punta d’ Espada, he alone intending to take the said
vessel. The Spaniards, though they had been in sight two hours, and knew
them to be pirates, yet would not flee, but prepared to fight, being well
armed and provided. The combat lasted three hours, and then they
surrendered. This ship had sixteen guns and fifty fighting men aboard.
They found in her 120,000 weight of cocoa, 40,000 pieces of eight, and the
value of 10,000 more in jewels. Lolonois sent the vessel presently to
Tortuga to be unladed, with orders to return as soon as possible to
Savona, where he would wait for them. Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet
being arrived at Savona met another Spanish vessel coming from Coman, with
military provisions to Hispaniola, and money to pay the garrisons there.
This vessel they also took, without any resistance, though mounted with
eight guns. In it were 7,000 weight of powder, a great number of muskets
and like things, with 12,000 pieces of eight.”

These successes emboldened the pirates, and we find their next exploit
that of taking a town of no inconsiderable size, that of Maracaibo in
Venezuela. The island on which it is situated is divided by a gulf or bay
from two others; on one was placed a watch-tower, while on the other was a
castle, and as the water about was often shallow, with many dangerous
sand-banks, vessels had to come in very close to it. Maracaibo, the city
or town, had some 3,000 or 4,000 Spanish inhabitants, and about 800 able
to bear arms. There was a large church, four monasteries, and one
hospital; the trade of the town was largely in tobacco, hides, and to an
extent flesh, which they exchanged for cocoa-nuts, oranges, lemons, and
other fruits, with a town named Gibraltar, situated some distance in the
country on the Lake of Maracaibo. The latter is described as delightfully
situated among plantations of sugar, and cocoa, and woods, the timber of
which was often large enough for ship and boat building. The whole country
abounded in rivers and brooks, while the tobacco grown had a high
reputation in Europe, being known as _tobacco de sacerdotes_, or priests’
tobacco.

Lolonois arrived at the Gulf of Venezuela, and cast anchor out of sight of
the watch-tower already mentioned; next morning he made in for the Lake of
Maracaibo, which communicates with the sea, and cast anchor again. Then a
number of the men landed to attack the fortress which commanded the bar,
and which was merely composed of earthworks. The governor, however, knew
of their approach, and had placed an ambuscade to cut them off behind,
while he should attack them in front. This the pirates discovered, and
manœuvred so successfully and fought so desperately that not a man could
retreat to the castle. This done, Lolonois, with his followers, advanced
immediately to the fort, and after a desperate fight of nearly three hours
completely mastered it, without any other arms than swords and pistols.
While this fight was in progress, the routed ambuscade, not being able to
get into the castle, retired into Maracaibo in great confusion and
disorder, crying out, “The pirates will presently be here with two
thousand men and more!” The city had been formerly sacked by pirates, and
the people knew well of what quality was their mercy. There was then a
general stampede in boats and canoes to Gibraltar, with such of the
portable wealth as could be taken. Arrived there, they spread the dismal
news, and there was general dismay.

The castle thus taken by the pirates, they signalled to the ships their
victory, that they should come further in without fear of danger. The rest
of the day was spent in ruining and demolishing the castle. They nailed(4)
the guns, and burnt as much as they could not carry away, burying the
dead, and sending the wounded on board the fleet. Next day, very early,
they weighed anchor, and steered altogether towards Maracaibo, about six
leagues distant from the fort; but the wind failing, they could advance
little, being forced to wait for the tide. Next morning they came in sight
of the town, and prepared for landing under the protection of their own
guns, fearing the Spaniards might have laid an ambuscade in the woods;
they put their men into canoes, brought for the purpose, and landed where
they thought most convenient, shooting still furiously with their great
guns. Of those in the canoes half only went ashore, the other half
remaining aboard. They fired from the ships as fast as possible towards
the woody part of the shore, but could discover nobody. Then they entered
the town, the inhabitants of which had retired to the woods and Gibraltar
with their families. Their houses were found well provided with victuals,
as flour, bread, pork, brandy, wines, and poultry, with which the pirates
fell to, making high havoc; having had no opportunity for four weeks
before of filling their stomachs with such good cheer.

“They instantly possessed themselves of the best houses in the town,” says
the narrator, “and placed sentinels wherever they thought convenient; the
great church serving them for their main guard. Next day they sent out 160
men to find out some of the inhabitants in the woods thereabouts; these
returned the same night, bringing with them 20,000 pieces of eight,
several mules laden with household goods and merchandise, and twenty
prisoners, men, women, and children. Some of these were put to the rack to
make them confess where they had hid the rest of the goods; but they could
extort very little from them. Lolonois, who valued not murdering, though
in cold blood, ten or twelve Spaniards, drew his cutlass, and hacked one
to pieces before the rest, saying, ‘If you do not confess and declare
where you have hid the rest of your goods, I will do the like to all your
companions.’ At last, amongst these horrible cruelties and inhuman
threats, one promised to show the place where the rest of the Spaniards
were hid; but those that were fled, having intelligence of it, changed
place, and buried the remnant of their riches, so that the pirates could
not find them out. Besides, the Spaniards flying from one place to another
every day, and often changing woods, were jealous even of each other, so
as the father durst scarce trust his own son.”

[Illustration: THE STRUGGLE WITH THE PIRATES AT GIBRALTAR.]

After the pirates had been fifteen days in Maracaibo they made up their
minds to capture Gibraltar, not a task quite so difficult as the taking of
that other which guards the portals of the Mediterranean, but still
sufficiently troublesome. The inhabitants had received intelligence of
their approaching advent, and that they afterwards intended to attempt the
capture of Merida, another city of that country, and they therefore
informed the governor, who was a brave soldier, and had served in
Flanders. His answer was, “he would have them take no care, for he hoped
in a little while to exterminate the said pirates;” whereupon he brought a
force of 400 well-armed men to Gibraltar, ordering at the same time the
inhabitants to arm. He soon had a force of 800 fighting men. With the same
speed he raised a battery, mounting twenty guns, and covered with great
baskets of earth. In another place he constructed a smaller battery of
eight guns, and this done, he barricaded a narrow passage, an approach to
the town, through which the pirates must pass; at the same time he opened
another, through morasses of dirt and mud, into the wood, totally unknown
to the freebooters.

“The pirates, ignorant of these preparations, having embarked all their
prisoners and booty, took their way towards Gibraltar. Being come in sight
of the place, they saw the Royal Standard hanging forth, and that those of
the town designed to defend their houses. Lolonois seeing this, called a
council of war, what they ought to do, telling his officers and mariners
‘that the difficulty of the enterprise was very great, seeing the
Spaniards had had so much time to put themselves in a posture of defence,
and had got a good body of men together, with much ammunition; but
notwithstanding,’ said he, ‘have a good courage; we must either defend
ourselves like good soldiers, or lose our lives with all the riches we
have got. Do as I shall do who are your captain. At other times we have
fought with fewer men than we have in our company at present, and yet we
have overcome greater numbers than there possibly can be in this town; the
more there are, the more glory and the greater riches we shall gain.’ The
pirates supposed that all the riches of the inhabitants of Maracaibo were
transported to Gibraltar, or at least the greater part. After this speech
they all promised to follow and to obey him. Lolonois made answer, ‘It is
well; but know ye, withal, that the first man who shall show any fear, or
the least apprehension thereof, I will pistol him with my own hands!’

“With this resolution they cast anchor nigh the shore, near three-quarters
of a league from the town; next day, before sun-rise, they landed 380 men,
well provided, and armed every one with a cutlass and one or two pistols,
and sufficient powder and bullets for thirty charges. Here they all shook
hands, in testimony of good courage, and began their march, Lolonois
speaking thus:—‘Come, my brethren, follow me, and have good courage.’ They
followed their guide, who, believing he led them well, brought them to the
way which the governor had barricaded. Not being able to pass that way,
they went to the other newly made in the wood among the mire, which the
Spaniards could shoot into at pleasure; but the pirates, full of courage,
cut down the branches of trees and threw them on the way, that they might
not stick in the dirt. Meanwhile, those of Gibraltar fired with their
great guns so furiously that they could scarce hear nor see for the noise
and smoke. Being past the wood, they came on firm ground, where they met
with a battery of six guns, which immediately the Spaniards discharged
upon them, all loaded with small bullets and pieces of iron; and the
Spaniards, sallying forth, set upon them with such fury as caused the
pirates to give way, few of them caring to advance towards the fort, many
of them being already killed and wounded. This made them go back to seek
another way, but the Spaniards having cut down many trees to hinder the
passage, they could find none, but were forced to return to that they had
left. Here the Spaniards continued to fire as before; nor would they sally
out of their batteries to attack them any more. Lolonois and his
companions not being able to grimp up the baskets of earth, were compelled
to use an old stratagem, wherewith at last they deceived and overcame the
Spaniards.

“Lolonois retired suddenly with all his men, making show as if he fled,
whereupon the Spaniards, crying out, ‘They flee, they flee! let us follow
them!’ sallied out with great disorder to the pursuit. Being drawn to some
distance from the batteries, which was the pirates’ only design, they
turned upon them unexpectedly, sword in hand, and killed above 200 men,
and thus fighting their way through those who remained, they possessed
themselves of the batteries. The Spaniards that remained abroad, giving
themselves over for lost, fled to the woods; those in the battery of eight
guns surrendered themselves, obtaining quarter for their lives. The
pirates being now become masters of the town, pulled down the Spanish
colours and set up their own, taking prisoners as many as they could find.
These they carried to the great church, where they raised a battery of
several great guns, fearing lest the Spaniards that were fled should rally
and come upon them again; but next day, being all fortified, their fears
were over. They gathered the dead to bury them, being above 500 Spaniards,
besides the wounded in the town and those who died of their wound in the
woods. The pirates had also above 150 prisoners and nigh 500 slaves, many
women and children.”

Of their own companions only forty were killed and about eighty wounded,
of whom, however, the greater part died through the pestilential air of
the place. They put the slain Spaniards into two great boats, and towing
them a quarter of a league to sea, they sunk the boats. This done, they
gathered all the plate, valuables generally, and merchandise they could,
or thought convenient to carry away. “The Spaniards who had anything left
had hid it carefully; but the unsatisfied pirates, not content with the
riches they had got, sought for more goods and merchandise, not sparing
those who lived in the fields, such as hunters and planters. They had
scarce been eighteen days on the place when the greater part of the
prisoners died of hunger; for in the town there were few provisions,
especially of flesh, though they had some, but no sufficient quantity of
flour, and this the pirates had taken for themselves, as they also took
the swine, cows, and poultry, without allowing any share to the poor
prisoners; for these they only provided some small quantity of mule’s and
ass’s flesh; and many who could not eat of that loathsome provision died
of hunger, their stomachs not being accustomed to such sustenance. Only
some women were allowed better cheer, but not for the best reasons.” Of
the prisoners, many also died under the tortures sustained to make them
give up their money or jewels; many died, accordingly, who possessed
neither, or would not admit the facts.

After having been in possession of the town four entire weeks, they sent
four of their prisoners to the Spaniards that were fled to the woods,
demanding of them a ransom of 10,000 pieces; they threatened to reduce it
to ashes. The Spaniards were unable or indisposed to bring in a sum so
considerable in the stipulated time—namely, only two days—and the pirates
fired the town in several places, whereupon the inhabitants begged them to
help extinguish the fire, and the ransom should be readily paid. The
pirates agreed, but in spite of all their best endeavours one part of the
town was ruined. The church belonging to the monastery was burned down.
After they had received the sum fixed they carried on board all the riches
they had gathered, with a great number of slaves which had not paid the
ransom. Thence they returned to Maracaibo, where they found a general
consternation in the city, which was not quieted when they demanded 50,000
pieces of eight to be brought on board, or the inhabitants’ houses should
be sacked anew. Meantime the pirates stripped the great church of all its
valuables. At last a compromise was effected, that on payment of 20,000
pieces of eight, and 500 cows, the pirates would depart peaceably. Both
these demands being paid, the fleet set sail. But three days afterwards,
the townspeople’s fears were renewed at seeing the pirates appear again,
and re-enter the port with all their ships. Their alarm subsided when they
found that the pirates only required a pilot to take them over the bar and
banks at the entrance of the Lake of Maracaibo.

At Hispaniola the freebooters made a division of their gains, according to
the order and rank of every one. They found that they had considerably
over a _quarter of a million_ pieces of eight to share, besides any
quantity of rich spoils. Those who had been wounded received their
proportion for the loss of their limbs after the first general division.
Then they weighed the plate, allowing ten pieces of eight (ten dollars) to
a pound. The jewels were frequently, no doubt, either greatly over-valued
or under-valued by reason of their ignorance. This done, every one was put
to his oath again that he had not concealed anything from the rest or
smuggled anything from the common stock. The shares of those who had died
in battle or otherwise were carefully given to the proper relatives or
friends—honour among thieves with a vengeance! The dividends having been
arranged, they started for Tortuga, where these _nouveaux riches_ were
received with great rejoicings. Two French ships, laden with wine and
brandy, &c., had arrived shortly before, and these liquors were
comparatively cheap when the pirates sailed into harbour; a week or two
afterwards prices had increased wonderfully, and the larger part of the
bucaniers had not a dollar to bless themselves wherewith. The governor of
the island purchased a ship-load of cocoa from them for about a twentieth
part of its worth; and in a week or two the tavern-keepers, gamblers, and
loafers, had acquired a good proportion of the riches, so hardly and
bravely, albeit so dishonestly, earned.

Lolonois was now the great man of Tortuga, as he brought wealth to the
town, and all men flocked to his standard; he had no difficulty in
obtaining all the volunteers he desired. He resolved, therefore, on
another voyage to Nicaragua, that country, as the reader may be reminded,
which in later days has been the scene of the exploits of Walker the
filibuster, and which may some day hold a prominent place in the eyes of
the world in connection with a great ship canal between the Atlantic and
Pacific. Having promulgated his new programme, some seven hundred men
enrolled themselves under him. Of these he put about three hundred on the
great prize ship he took at Maracaibo, and the rest on five smaller
vessels. Fancy an expedition of seven hundred men starting on such an
errand, even in these days! What harm might they not accomplish?

[Illustration: LOLONOIS’ FIGHT WITH THE SPANIARDS.]

The expedition being ready, Lolonois proceeded to a port in Hispaniola to
take in provisions, and afterwards to Matamana, on the south coast of
Cuba, where he intended to rob the poor turtle-hunters of their canoes.
They captured as many as they wanted, to the sorrow of their owners, but
to their own satisfaction, as they were always useful in shallow waters,
and the port to which they were directing their course came under that
category. Hence they steered for the Cape Gracias a Dios, and being at sea
were becalmed for a long while, and were carried by the currents into the
Gulf of Honduras. The ship which carried the commander of the expedition
could not keep up with the rest, and what was worse, they were running
short of provisions, so that they were obliged to send their canoes to the
river Xagua, where there were a number of Indians, whom they first killed.
After that, as a mere matter of secondary importance, they thought it no
harm to carry off the hogs, hens, and millet, of their settlements, which
were found in abundance. They resolved further to remain there till the
bad weather was over, and pillage all the villages and towns on the coast
of the gulf, but were not particularly successful till they came to Puerto
Cavallo. Here the Spaniards had two storehouses, where they kept the
produce of the country till the arrival of their ships. There was then in
the port a Spanish ship of twenty-four guns and sixteen pedreros, or
mortar-pieces. This ship was immediately seized by the pirates, and the
two storehouses burned with all the rest of the houses there. Many of the
inhabitants were made prisoners, and they committed upon them the most
inhuman cruelties that ever heathens invented, putting them to the
cruellest tortures they could devise. “It was the custom of Lolonois that,
having tormented persons not confessing, he would instantly cut them in
pieces with his hanger, and pull out their tongues, desiring to do so, if
possible, to every Spaniard in the world. It often happened that some of
these miserable prisoners, being forced by the rack, would promise to
discover the place where the fugitive Spaniards lay hid, which not being
able afterwards to perform, they were put to more cruel deaths than they
who were dead before.

“The prisoners being all dead but two (whom they reserved to show them
what they desired), they marched hence to the town of San Pedro, or St.
Peter, ten or twelve leagues from Puerto Cavallo, being three hundred men
whom Lolonois led, leaving behind him Moses Van Vin, his lieutenant, to
govern the rest in his absence. Being come three leagues on his way, they
met with a troop of Spaniards, who lay in ambuscade for their coming;
these they set upon with all the courage possible, and at last totally
defeated. Howbeit, they behaved themselves very manfully at first, but not
being able to resist the fury of the pirates, they were forced to give way
and save themselves by flight, leaving many pirates dead in the place,
some wounded, and some of their own party maimed by the way. These
Lolonois put to death without mercy, having asked them what questions he
thought fit for his purpose.”

There were still some five prisoners not wounded; these were asked by
Lolonois, if any more Spaniards remained farther on in ambuscade? They
answered there were. Then, being brought before him one by one, he asked
if there was no other way to the town but that? this he did to avoid those
ambuscades, if possible. But they all constantly answered him they knew
none. Having asked them all, and finding they could show him no other way,
Lolonois grew outrageously passionate, so that he drew his cutlass, and
with it cut open the breast of one of those poor Spaniards, and pulling
out his heart began to bite and gnaw it with his teeth, like a ravenous
wolf, saying to the rest, “I will serve you all alike if you show me not
another way!” The poor wretches promised to show him another way, but
averred that it was a most difficult route. He tried it and found that
they were right. He was so exasperated that he swore the horrible
oath—_Mort Dieu, les Espagnols me le payeront!_ Next day he kept his word,
for meeting an ambuscade of Spaniards, he attacked them with such fury
that few remained to tell the tale. The Spaniards hoped by these
ambuscades to destroy the pirates in detail. Later he met another and a
stronger party, more advantageously placed, but the pirates attacking them
with much vigour, and using fire-balls in great numbers, forced the
remnant to flee leaving the larger part killed and wounded. There was but
one path that led to the town, and this was very well barricaded, while
the settlement was surrounded by planted shrubs of a prickly and pointed
nature, probably something of the cactus variety. The Spaniards, posted
behind their defences, plied the pirates with their artillery, and were
answered with showers of fire-balls; the latter were for the present
unable to advance. A second attack was made, the pirates’ orders being not
to fire until very close to the enemy; and in this they were successful,
as every shot told. The conflict continued raging till night, when the
Spaniards hoisted the white flag and desired to parley, the only
conditions they required being that the pirates should give the
inhabitants quarter for two hours. This was a _ruse_ to enable them to
carry off and hide their valuables. Granting this request, the pirates
marched into the town, and continued there the two hours without
committing the least outrage; but the time past, Lolonois ordered that the
inhabitants should be followed, robbed of all they had carried away, and
made prisoners. They had succeeded, however, knowing the country, in
making such good use of their time that the pirates could only capture a
few sacks of indigo. Having remained there a few days, committing all
kinds of outrages and stealing all they could, they returned to the coast,
rejoining some of their companions, who had been engaged in robbing the
poor fishermen of the coast, and others who came from Guatemala. A vessel
from Spain was daily expected to arrive off this river, and they left two
canoes to attack her, whilst they went over to some islands on the other
side of the gulf to careen and cleanse their ships and obtain provisions,
they knowing well that turtle abounded. They also made a number of ropes
and nets from the rind of the macoa-tree, and obtained a quantity of a
kind of bitumen or pitch, useful on board ship. In short, these islands
would seem to supply nearly all that was required for the seaman’s use.

The pirates, having been in the gulf three months, received advice that
the expected Spanish ship had arrived, and hastened to the spot where she
lay unloading her merchandise. They had previously sent away some of the
boats to seek for a smaller vessel, also expected, richly laden with
plate, indigo, and cochineal. Meanwhile the ship’s crew, expecting an
attack, had prepared for a good defence. Her armament consisted of
forty-two guns, and she had on board one hundred and thirty well-armed
men. Lolonois simply laughed at all this, and assaulted them with great
courage. His own ship had but twenty-two guns. The Spaniards behaved
excellently, and forced the pirates to retire momentarily, but Lolonois
was still equal to the occasion. Taking advantage of the dense smoke
caused by the bad powder of those days, he again attacked the ship,
boarded her from all sides, and forced the Spaniards to surrender. They
were considerably chagrined to find that their fight had been almost for
nothing—piratically considered—for they found on board little more than
fifty bars of iron, a small parcel of paper, and some earthen jars of
wine.

Lolonois now called a council of war, and stated that he was bound for
Guatemala. A division of opinion immediately arose, and he was especially
opposed by some of the men who were but “green hands” in the art of
piracy, and who had expected long ere this to have become wealthy, or, as
the chronicler puts it, had expected “that pieces of eight were gathered
as easy as pears from a tree.” Many of these immediately seceded and left
the fleet, returning home as best they might. Another section averred that
they would rather starve than return without plenty of prize money. The
major part did not approve of the proposed voyage, and separated from
Lolonois and his adherents. Their ring-leaders, Moses Vanclein and Pierre
le Picard, on the voyage home, pillaged a town in Costa Rica, but only
gained some seven or eight pounds of native gold.

Lolonois, thus deserted by the larger number of his companions, remained
alone in the Gulf of Honduras, where all suffered severely from want of
provisions. Roast monkey was their main sustenance. At last, near Cape
Gracias a Dios, his ship struck on a sandbank near the little island, one
of the group named De las Puertas, and although they threw overboard the
guns, iron, and other weighty things on the ship, she stuck fast, and no
art could remove her. They were forced to break her up, and build
themselves a boat to get away. The islands were inhabited by some Indians,
who are described as being very tall and nimble, running as fast as a
fleet horse, and enormously strong; “at diving also,” says the chronicler,
“they are very dexterous and hardy. From the bottom of the sea I saw them
take up an anchor of six hundred-weight, tying a cable to it with great
dexterity, and pulling it from a rock.” Their arms were of wood, and in
place of iron points crocodiles’ teeth were often used. They had
plantations of bananas, potatoes, and other fruits and vegetables. They
occasionally indulged in cannibalism. Two of the men, a Frenchman and a
Spaniard, went into the woods, where they lost themselves. A party of
Indians pursued them. They defended themselves with their swords, but were
at last forced to flee; the nimbler of the two, the Frenchman, escaped,
but the Spaniard was taken. Some days after, twelve well-armed pirates,
conducted by the above-mentioned Frenchman, reached the place where the
Spaniard had been left. Here they found the evidences that the Indians had
camped and made a fire, and at a small distance discovered a man’s bones
well roasted, and with shreds of flesh, ill scraped off, adhering to them.
A human hand, with but two fingers remaining, was also found, and they
could only conclude that these were the last of the poor Spaniard, as he
was never heard of again.

Their boat was now finished, and they determined to make for the river of
Nicaragua. She could not hold the number, and to avoid disputes they cast
lots who should go or stay. Lolonois and half his men embarked in the
long-boat and in the skiff which they had before, the other half remaining
ashore. At the river of Nicaragua that ill-fortune assailed the pirate
leader which of long time had been reserved for him as a punishment due to
the multitude of horrible crimes committed in his wicked and licentious
life. Here he met with both Spaniards and Indians, who, jointly setting
upon him and his companions, were killed on the place. Lolonois with those
that remained alive, had much ado to escape aboard their boats; yet,
notwithstanding this great loss, he resolved not to return to those he had
left at the Isle of Puertas without taking some boats such as he sought.
To this effect he determined to go on to the coasts of Carthagena; but
“God Almighty,” says Esquemeling—“the time of His divine justice being now
come—had appointed the Indians of Darien to be the instruments and
executioners thereof. These Indians of Darien were esteemed as bravoes, or
wild savage Indians, by the neighbouring Spaniards, who never could
civilise them. Hither Lolonois came (brought by his evil conscience that
cried for punishment), thinking to act his cruelties; but the Indians,
within a few days after his arrival, took him prisoner, and tore him in
pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire, and his ashes
into the air, that no trace or memory might remain of such an infamous,
inhuman creature. One of his companions gave me an exact account of the
tragedy, affirming that himself had escaped the same punishment with the
greatest difficulty. He believed also that many of his comrades who were
taken in that encounter by those Indians were, as their cruel captain,
torn in pieces and burnt alive. Thus ends the history, the life, and
miserable death of that infernal wretch Lolonois, who, full of horrid,
execrable, and enormous deeds, and debtor to so much innocent blood, died
by cruel and butcherly hands, such as his own were in the course of his
life.” Those that remained on the island De las Puertas waiting for their
companions’ return were later taken off on the ship of another pirate. The
united crews, now in number 500, made for the river at Gracias a Dios,
which they entered in canoes. They took little provision, expecting to
“find”—in the pirate’s meaning, steal—plenty ashore. In this they were
disappointed, for the Indians had got notice of their coming, and had
fled. They were thus reduced to extreme necessity and hunger, and a few
green herbs formed their only sustenance. After a laborious search in the
woods for food, during which time they were reduced to eat their own boots
and the leather sheaths of their swords and knives, and at which period
they also vowed to sacrifice any Indians they might meet to appease their
own appetites—which, fortunately for the Indians, did not happen—their
courage oozed out, and they returned to the ships. The greater part of
them subsequently perished from hunger and exhaustion, or in the same
manner as had their commander Lolonois not long before.

And now to the deeds of another famous freebooter, “who,” as Esquemeling
says, “may deservedly be called the second Lolonois, not being unlike or
inferior to him either in achievements against the Spaniards or in
robberies of many innocent people.” The notorious pirate Captain Morgan
now appears upon the scene.

CHAPTER III.

THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).

The Second Lolonois—Captain Henry Morgan—His first Successes—A
Pirate Fleet of Seven Hundred Men—Attack on a Cuban Town—Morgan’s
Form—Not to be Beaten—Puerto Bello—Morgan’s Strategy—The Castle
taken—Extravagant Demands—The Governor of Panama Derided—Return to
Jamaica—Their Dissipation—A Fresh Start—Maracaibo re-taken—A
Chance for Guy Fawkes—Gibraltar again—Cruel Tortures inflicted on
Prisoners—Horrible Brutalities—Arrival of a Spanish Fleet—Morgan’s
Insolence—Letter from the Spanish Admiral—“To the Death!”

Captain Henry Morgan was born in Wales; his father was in easy
circumstances, as many who bear that name in Wales were and are known to
be. Morgan, when young, had no inclination for the calling of his father,
and therefore left the country and came to the sea-coast, to seek some
other employment more suitable to his aspirations. He volunteered on board
a vessel bound for Barbadoes, the captain of which, according to the
frequent practice of those times, sold him as soon as he went ashore. “He
served his time at Barbadoes, and, obtaining his liberty, betook himself
to Jamaica, there to seek new fortunes. Here he found two vessels of
pirates ready to go to sea; and being destitute of employment he went with
them, with intent to follow the exercises of that sort of people; and he
soon learnt their mode of living so exactly that, having performed three
or four voyages with profit and success, he agreed with some of his
comrades, who had got by the same voyages a little money, to join stocks
and buy a ship. The vessel being bought they unanimously chose him captain
and commander.”

With this ship he left Jamaica, and off the coast of Campechy took several
prizes, with which he returned triumphantly. He next met an old pirate,
Mansvelt by name, who was then engaged in forming and manning a fleet, and
who offered Morgan the post of vice-admiral in his expedition, which the
latter accepted. There was no nonsense about the piracy of those days; for
we read that the freebooters’ fleet consisted of no less than fifteen
vessels, great and small, manned by 500 adventurers. They first proceeded
to the Isle of St. Catherine, near the coast of Costa Rica, where they
landed most of their men, and soon “forced all the forts and castles
thereof,” which they instantly demolished, except one, which they
garrisoned with 100 men of their own, and all the slaves taken from the
Spaniards. With the rest of their forces they proceeded to a neighbouring
island, so close, indeed, that in a few days they made a bridge and
carried over all the captured ordnance. Having ruined with fire and sword
both the islands, they put to sea again with the intention of pillaging
all the towns and villages on the coast of Costa Rica. The Governor of
Panama learned of these proceedings, and made preparations to meet the
pirates, of which fact they also learned, and they retired, finding the
whole country was alarmed. They returned to St. Catherine, where the
governor whom they had left in charge—a Frenchman, Le Sieur Simon by
name—had made good use of his charge by putting the greater island in an
excellent state of defence, while he had cultivated the lesser one to such
an extent that he was able to re-victual the fleet. Mansvelt was very much
bent on keeping these islands, as they were conveniently situated for
piracy, and easily defended. He laid the matter before the Governor of
Jamaica, who rejected his plans. He then proceeded to Tortuga for
volunteers to man the island with supplies, but here death put an end to
his wicked life, leaving all things in suspense. The new Governor of Costa
Rica did not approve of the islands remaining in the hands of pirates; but
before taking action offered easy terms to Le Sieur Simon, promising him
good reward should he give them up. The latter, after some small show of
resistance, delivered them up to Spain.

Captain Morgan was now entirely in command of the pirate fleet, and had
under his command no less than 700 men, part English and part French, on
twelve vessels. A council was called, and some recommended an attempt on
the City of Havannah, while others, who had been prisoners there, thought
it useless to try any such scheme with less than 1,500 men. They finally
resolved to attack the town of El Puerto del Principe, an inland town of
Cuba, tolerably near the coast, where the inhabitants were wealthy, and
had never yet been attacked by the pirates. They made sail, steering
toward the coast nearest that town. At a bay named El Puerto del Santa
Maria, a Spanish prisoner on board the fleet swam ashore by night, and
succeeded in reaching the threatened town, where he gave the inhabitants
information of the coming attack, and they, of course, immediately began
to hide and carry away their riches and movables. The governor immediately
enrolled all the males of the town, about 800, and posted part of them in
a position where by necessity the pirates must pass, while he made other
preparations for hindering them, by cutting down trees and laying them
across the roads. He placed ambuscade parties with cannon to harass them
on their march.

“Captain Morgan with his men now on the march found the avenues to the
town impassable; hereupon they took their way through the wood, traversing
it with great difficulty, whereby they escaped divers ambuscades; at last
they came to the place from its figure called by the Spaniards La Savanna,
or the Sheet. The governor seeing them come, detached a troop of horse to
charge them in the front, thinking to disperse them, and to pursue them
with his main body; but this design succeeded not, for the pirates marched
in very good order at the sound of their drums, and with flying colours.
Coming near the horse, they drew into a semicircle, and so advanced
towards the Spaniards, who charged them vehemently for a while; but the
pirates being very dexterous at their arms, and their governor and many of
their companions being killed, they retreated towards the wood, to save
themselves with more advantage; but before they could reach it most of
them were killed. Thus they left the victory to these new-come enemies,
who had no considerable loss of men in the battle, and but very few
wounded. The skirmish lasted four hours; after which they entered the
town, not without very great resistance of such as were within, who
defended themselves as long as possible, and many seeing the enemy in the
town shut themselves up in their own houses and thence made several shots
upon the pirates, who therefore threatened them, saying, ‘If you surrender
not voluntarily, you shall soon see the town in a flame, and your wives
and children torn in pieces before your faces.’ Upon these menaces, the
Spaniards submitted to the discretion of the pirates, believing they could
not continue there long.”

As soon as the pirates had captured the town, they imprisoned all the
Spaniards—men, women, children, and slaves—in several churches, and
pillaged all the goods they could find. They then searched the country
round about, bringing in daily prisoners, goods, and provision. “With this
they fell to making great cheer, after their old custom, without
remembering the poor prisoners, whom they let starve in the churches,
though they tormented them daily and inhumanly to make them confess where
they had hid their goods, money, &c., though little or nothing was left
them; not sparing the women and children; giving them nothing to eat,
whereby the greater part perished.

“Pillage and provisions growing scarce, they thought convenient to depart
and seek new fortunes in other places. They told the prisoners they should
find money to ransom themselves, or else they should all be transported to
Jamaica; and beside, if they did not pay a second ransom for the town,
they would burn every house to the ground.” The Spaniards hereupon
nominated among themselves four fellow-prisoners to go and seek for the
above-named contributions; but the pirates, to the intent they should
return presently with those ransoms, tormented several cruelly in their
presence before they departed. After a few days the Spaniards returned,
telling Captain Morgan, “We have run up and down and searched all the
neighbouring woods and places we most suspected, and yet have not been
able to find any of our own party, nor consequently any fruit of our
embassy; but if you are pleased to have a little longer patience with us,
we shall certainly cause all that you demand within fifteen days;” which
Captain Morgan granted. But not long after, there came into the town seven
or eight pirates who had been ranging in the woods and fields, and got
considerable booty. These brought, amongst other prisoners, a negro, whom
they had taken with letters. Captain Morgan having perused them, found
they were from the Governor of Santa Iago, being written to some of the
prisoners, wherein he told them:—“They should not make too much haste to
pay any ransom for their town or persons or any other pretext; but, on the
contrary, they should put off the pirates as well as they could with
excuses and delays, expecting to be relieved by him in a short time, when
they would certainly come to their aid.” Upon this intelligence, Captain
Morgan ordered all their plunder to be carried aboard; and withal, he told
the Spaniards that the very next day they should pay their ransoms, for he
would not wait a moment longer, but reduce the whole town to ashes if they
failed of the sum he demanded.

“With this intimation Captain Morgan made no mention of the letters he had
intercepted. They answered—‘That it was impossible for them to give such a
sum of money in so short a space of time, seeing their fellow-townsmen
were not to be found in all the country thereabouts.’ Captain Morgan knew
full well their intentions, but thought it not convenient to stay there
any longer, demanding only of them 500 oxen or cows, with sufficient salt
to powder them, with this condition, that they should carry them on board
his ships. Thus he departed with all his men, taking with him only six of
the principal prisoners as pledges. Next day the Spaniards brought the
cattle and salt to the ships, and required the prisoners; but Captain
Morgan refused to deliver them till they had helped his men to kill and
salt the beeves. This was performed in great haste, he not caring to stay
there any longer, lest he should be surprised; and having received all on
board, he liberated the hostages.”

Captain Morgan was hardly to be disconcerted by any defection on the part
of his late allies, and he therefore immediately rallied his remaining
men, who swore to stick by him to death. Another pirate captain joined
him, and in a few days he had collected a fleet of nine sail, manned by
four hundred and sixty fighting men. Morgan immediately steered for the
coast of Costa Rica, keeping his intended plan of action closely locked
within his own bosom.

[Illustration: ON THE COAST OF COSTA RICA.]

The land was now in sight, and a council of war was called. Morgan
informed his company that he intended to plunder Puerto Bello by night,
and put the whole city to the sack. He recalled to them the fact that he
had kept the matter entirely secret, and that his victims could therefore
have had no notice. Some thought that they had not a sufficient number of
men to successfully attack the town. Morgan’s answer was characteristic.
“If our numbers are small,” said he, “our hearts are great, and the fewer
persons we are, the more union, and the better shares we shall have in the
spoil.” The attack was settled.

The city or town of Puerto Bello was in those days one of the strongest of
the Spanish main, or West Indian isles, Havannah and Carthagena alone
out-ranking it. Two forts defended the entrance to its harbour; it had a
garrison of 300 soldiers; and was inhabited by some 400 families. The
merchants did not generally reside there, owing to the unhealthiness of
the climate, but stopped at Panama, and brought their commodities over at
regular seasons, when the Spanish galleons or slave-ships were expected.
Captain Morgan, who knew the neighbouring country thoroughly, anchored his
vessels some little distance from the town to be attacked, and leaving a
few men on board to bring them into port next day, proceeded with the bulk
of his company in boats and canoes. About midnight they reached a place
called Estera longa Lemos, where they all went on shore, and marched to
the city. They had with them an Englishman who had formerly been a
prisoner there, and he with three or four others contrived to seize the
sentinel before he had time to give any warning. The latter was brought
with his hands bound to Captain Morgan, and closely interrogated as to the
strength of the place, with threats of death if he did not speak truly.
Then, having gathered all the information they could, they marched up to
the castle or fort near the city, and closely surrounded it. Let
Esquemeling now describe to us the sequence.

“Being posted under the walls of the castle, Captain Morgan commanded the
sentinel whom they had taken prisoner to speak to those within, charging
them to surrender to his discretion, otherwise they should all be cut in
pieces without quarter. But they, regarding none of these threats, began
instantly to fire, which alarmed the city; yet, notwithstanding, though
the governor and soldiers of the said city made as great resistance as
could be, they were forced to surrender. Having taken the castle, they
resolved to be as good as their words, putting the Spaniards to the sword,
thereby to strike a terror into the rest of the city. Whereupon, having
shut up all the officers and soldiers into one room, they set fire to the
powder (whereof they found great quantity) and blew up the castle into the
air, with all the Spaniards that were within. This done, they pursued the
course of their victory, falling upon the city, which, as yet, was not
ready to receive them. Many of the inhabitants cast their precious jewels
and money into wells and cisterns, or hid them in places underground, to
avoid as much as possible being totally robbed. One party of the pirates,
being assigned to this purpose, ran immediately to the cloisters, and took
as many religious men and women(5) as they could find. The governor of the
city, not being able to rally the citizens through their great confusion,
retired to one of the castles remaining, and thence fired incessantly at
the pirates; but these were not in the least negligent either to assault
him or to defend themselves, so that amidst the horror of the assault they
made very few shots in vain; for, aiming with great dexterity at the
mouths of the guns, the Spaniards were certain to lose one or two men
every time they charged each gun anew. This continued very furious from
break of day till noon; yea, about this time of day the case was very
dubious which party should conquer or be conquered. At last, the pirates
perceiving they had lost many men, and yet advanced but little towards
gaining either this or the other castles, made use of fire-balls, which
they threw with their hands, designing to burn the doors of the castles;
but the Spaniards from the walls let fall great quantities of stones, and
earthen pots full of powder and other combustibles, which forced them to
desist. Captain Morgan, seeing this generous defence made by the
Spaniards, began to despair of success. Hereupon many faint and calm
meditations came into his mind; neither could he determine which way to
turn him in that strait. Being thus puzzled he was suddenly animated to
continue the assaults by seeing English colours put forth in one of the
lesser castles, then entered by his men, of whom he presently afterwards
spied a troop coming to meet him, proclaiming victory with loud shouts of
joy. This instantly put him on new resolutions of taking the rest of the
castles, especially seeing the chiefest citizens were fled to them, and
had conveyed thither great part of their riches, with all the plate
belonging to the churches and divine service.

“To this effect he ordered ten or twelve ladders to be made in all haste,
so broad that three or four men at once might ascend them. These being
finished, he commanded all the religious men and women whom he had taken
prisoners to fix them against the walls of the castle. This he had before
threatened the governor to do if he delivered not the castle, but his
answer was, ‘He would never surrender himself alive.’ Captain Morgan was
persuaded the governor would not employ his armed force, seeing the
religious women and ecclesiastical persons exposed in front of the
soldiers to the greatest danger. Thus the ladders, as I have said, were
put into the hands of religious persons of both sexes, and these were
forced at the head of the companies to raise and apply them to the walls;
but Captain Morgan was fully deceived in his judgment, for the governor,
who acted like a brave soldier in the performance of his duty, used his
utmost endeavour to destroy whosoever came near the walls. The religious
men and women ceased not to cry to him, and beg of him by all the saints
of Heaven, to deliver the castle, and spare both his and their lives; but
nothing could prevail with his obstinacy and fierceness. Thus, many of the
religious men and nuns were killed before they could fix the ladders,
which at last being done, though with great loss of the said religious
people, the pirates mounted them in great numbers, and with not less
valour, having fire-balls in their hands, and earthen pots full of powder;
all which things being now at the top of the walls, they kindled and cast
in among the Spaniards.

“This effort of the pirates was very great, inasmuch as the Spaniards
could no longer resist nor defend the castle, which was now entered.
Hereupon they all threw down their arms, and craved quarter for their
lives. Only the governor would crave no mercy, but killed many of the
pirates with his own hands, and not a few of his own soldiers, because
they would not stand to their arms. And though the pirates asked him if he
would have quarter, yet he constantly answered, ‘By no means; I would
rather die as a valiant soldier than be hanged as a coward!’ They
endeavoured as much as they could to take him prisoner, but he defended
himself so obstinately that they were forced to kill him, notwithstanding
all the cries and tears of his own wife and daughter, who begged him on
their knees to demand quarter and save his life.”

The pirates now gave themselves up to all kinds of debauchery, some of the
details of which shall not disgrace these pages. The chronicler says that
at this time fifty determined men could easily have re-taken the city. The
President of Panama sent a body of men to the rescue, who were met by the
pirates and put to flight. He later sent a message full of threats, at
which Morgan only laughed, and sent word that he would demolish the forts
and burn the town unless he should immediately receive 100,000 pieces of
eight (over £20,000), and it was eventually paid. The Governor or
President of Panama was puzzled to learn how 400 men, without ordnance,
could have taken a town so well fortified as Puerto Bello, and sent to
Morgan, asking for some small patterns of his arms. The pirate captain
forwarded by the messenger a pistol and some small bullets, and desired
the president “to accept that slender pattern of the arms wherewith he had
taken Puerto Bello, and keep them a twelvemonth; after which time he
promised to come to Panama and fetch them away.” The governor returned the
presents, sending him back a golden ring, and desiring him not to trouble
himself about Panama, as he might obtain a warmer reception than he
expected. The results of this expedition comprised a quarter of a million
dollars, besides merchandise in silk, linen, and cloth. The
tavern-keepers, traders, and gamblers of Jamaica reaped the larger part of
these enormous gains.

Morgan’s next enterprise, in which he was joined by many other pirate
commanders, was against the already unfortunate city of Maracaibo. A
French pirate-ship, carrying thirty-six guns, was then at Jamaica, and
Morgan tried to induce the commander and his men to join them. This the
French refused; whereupon he invited the captain and several of his men to
dine with him, and treacherously made them prisoners.

This unjust action of Captain Morgan was followed by very swift
retribution. Captain Morgan, immediately after he had taken these French
prisoners, called a council to deliberate what place they should select
for this new expedition. It was determined to go to the Isle of Savona, to
wait for the fleet then expected from Spain, and take any of the Spanish
vessels straggling from the rest. This resolution being made, they began
to feast aboard the prize in expectation of their new voyage. They drank
many healths and discharged many guns—common signs of mirth among the
pirates. Most of the men being drunk—by what accident is not known—the
ship was suddenly blown up, with 350 Englishmen, besides the French
prisoners in the hold; of whom only thirty men escaped, who were in the
main cabin, at some distance from the full force of the powder. Many more,
it is thought, might have escaped had they not taken too much wine. The
French prisoners were accused of having fired the vessel, and Morgan a
little later seized their ship and crew.

[Illustration: BLOWING UP OF THE FRENCH PIRATE SHIP.]

“Eight days after the loss of the said ship, Captain Morgan commanded the
bodies of the miserable wretches who were blown up to be searched for as
they floated on the sea: not to afford them Christian burial, but for
their clothes and attire; and if any had gold rings on their fingers these
were cut off, leaving them exposed to the voracity of the monsters of the
sea. At last they set sail for Savona, the place of their assignation.
There were in all fifteen vessels, Captain Morgan commanding the biggest,
of only fourteen small guns. His number of men was 960. Few days after
they arrived at the Cabo de Lobos, south of Hispaniola, between Cape
Tiburon and Cape Punta de Espada. Hence they could not pass, by reason of
contrary winds, for three weeks, in spite of every effort to do so. Then
Captain Morgan doubled the cape, and spied an English vessel at a
distance. Having spoken to her, they found she came from England, and
bought of her, for ready money, some provisions they wanted.

“Captain Morgan proceeded on his voyage till he came to the port of Ocoa;
here he landed some men, sending them into the woods to seek water and
provisions, the better to spare such as he had already on board. They
killed many beasts, and among others some horses. But the Spaniards, not
well satisfied at their hunting, laid a stratagem for them, ordering three
or four hundred men to come from Santo Domingo, not far distant, and
desiring them to hunt in all the parts thereabout near the sea, that so if
the pirates should return they might find no subsistence. Within few days
the pirates returned to hunt, but finding nothing to kill, a party of
about fifty straggled farther on into the woods. The Spaniards, who
watched all their motions, gathered a great herd of cows, and set two or
three men to keep them. The pirates, having spied them, killed a
sufficient number; and though the Spaniards could see them at a distance,
yet they could not hinder them at present; but as soon as they attempted
to carry them away they set upon them furiously, crying—‘Mata, mata!’
which is, ‘Kill, kill!’ Thus the pirates were compelled to quit the prey,
and retreat to their ships; but they did it in good order, retiring by
degrees, and when they had opportunity discharging full volleys on the
Spaniards, killing many of their enemies, though with some loss.

“The Spaniards, seeing their damage, endeavoured to save themselves by
flight and carry off their dead and wounded companions. The pirates
perceiving them flee would not content themselves with what hurt they had
already done, but pursued them speedily into the woods, and killed the
greatest part of those that remained. Next day Captain Morgan, extremely
offended at what had passed, went himself, with 200 men, into the woods to
seek for the rest of the Spaniards, but finding nobody, he revenged
himself on the houses of the poor and miserable rustics that inhabited
those scattering fields and woods, of which he burnt a great number; with
this he returned to his ship, somewhat more satisfied in his mind for
having done some considerable damage to the enemy, which was always his
most ardent desire.”

Captain Morgan having waited impatiently for some of his ships which had
not yet joined company, was recommended by a French captain who had served
with Lolonois to make an attempt with his present forces—eight ships and
about 500 men—on Maracaibo. The Spaniards had built another fort since the
action with Lolonois, and when the pirates arrived gave them a very warm
reception, which lasted till evening. In the obscurity of the night Morgan
and his men crept up to the fort, when they found that the Spaniards had
deserted it. They had left, however, a train of powder with match burning,
with the intention of playing Guy Fawkes with the pirates, and had not
Morgan discovered it in time they would undoubtedly have suffered great
loss. The freebooters found a considerable amount of powder and muskets,
with which they furnished the fleet, and they spiked sixteen cannons. Next
day they proceeded in boats and canoes to the town, which, with an
adjacent fort, was found deserted.

“As soon as they had entered the town the pirates searched every corner,
to see if they could find any people who were hid who might offend them
unawares; not finding anybody, every party, as they came out of their
several ships, chose what several houses they pleased. The church was
deputed for the common corps du guard, where they lived, after their
military manner, very insolently. Next day after they sent a troop of 100
men to seek for the inhabitants and their goods. These returned next day,
bringing with them thirty persons—men, women, and children—and fifty mules
laden with good merchandise. All these miserable people were put to the
rack, to make them confess where the rest of the inhabitants were and
their goods. Among other tortures, one was to stretch their limbs with
cords and then to beat them with sticks and other instruments. Others had
burning matches placed between their fingers, which were thus burnt alive.
Others had slender cords or matches placed about their heads till their
eyes burst out. Those who would not confess, or had nothing to declare,
died under the hands of those villains. These tortures and racks continued
for three whole weeks, in which time they sent out daily parties to seek
for more people to torment and rob, they never returning without booty and
new riches.

“Captain Morgan having now gotten into his hands about a hundred of the
chief families, with all their goods, at last resolved for Gibraltar, as
Lolonois had done before. With this design he equipped his fleet,
providing it sufficiently with all necessaries. He put likewise on board
all the prisoners, and weighing anchor, set sail with resolution to hazard
a battle. They had sent before some prisoners to Gibraltar to require the
inhabitants to surrender, otherwise Captain Morgan would put them all to
the sword without any quarter. Arriving before Gibraltar, the inhabitants
received him with continued shooting of great cannon bullets; but the
pirates, instead of fainting hereat, ceased not to encourage one another,
saying—‘We must make one meal upon bitter things before we come to taste
the sweetness of the sugar this place affords.’”

Next day, early in the morning, they landed all their men, and being
guided by the Frenchman beforenamed, they marched towards the town, not by
the ordinary way, but crossing through woods, which way the Spaniards did
not expect they would have come, for at the beginning of their journey
they pretended to march the next and open way to the town, hereby to
deceive the Spaniards; “but these remembering full well what Lolonois had
done but two years before, thought it not safe to expect a second brunt,
and hereupon all fled out of the town as fast as they could, carrying all
their goods and riches, as also all their powder, and having nailed all
the great guns; so as the pirates found not one person in the whole city
but one poor innocent man who was born a fool. This man they asked whither
the inhabitants had fled, and where they had hid their goods. To all which
questions and the like he constantly answered—‘I know nothing, I know
nothing!’ but they presently put him to the rack, and tortured him with
cords, which torments forced him to cry out—‘Do not torture me any more,
but come with me and I will show you my goods and my riches!’ They were
persuaded, it seems, he was some rich person disguised under those clothes
so poor and that innocent tongue; so they went along with him, and he
conducted them to a poor miserable cottage, wherein he had a few earthen
dishes and other things of no value, and three pieces of eight, concealed
with some other trumpery under ground. Then they asked him his name, and
he readily answered, ‘My name is Don Sebastian Sanchez, and I am brother
unto the Governor of Maracaibo.’ This foolish answer, it must be
conceived, these inhuman wretches took for truth; for no sooner had they
heard it but they put him again upon the rack, lifting him up on high with
cords, and tying large weights to his feet and neck. Besides which they
burnt him alive, applying palm-leaves burning to his face.” They sent out
parties, and captured some prisoners, several of whom were tortured or
killed. Among others there was a Portuguese, who was falsely reported by a
negro to be very rich. This man was commanded to produce his riches. His
answer was that he had no more than 100 pieces of eight in the world, and
these had been stolen from him two days before by his servant. The pirates
would not believe him, but dragged him to a rack without any regard to his
age of sixty years, and stretched him with cords, breaking both his arms
behind his shoulders. “This cruelty went not alone, for he not being able
or willing to make any other declaration, they put him to another sort of
torment more barbarous; they tied him with small cords by his two thumbs
and great toes to four stakes fixed in the ground at a convenient
distance, the whole weight of his body hanging by these cords. Not
satisfied yet with their cruel torture, they took a stone of above 200
pounds and laid it on his belly, as if they intended to press him to
death; they also kindled palm-leaves and applied the flame to the face of
this unfortunate Portuguese, burning with them the whole skin, beard, and
hair. At last, seeing that neither with these tortures nor others they
could get anything out of him, they untied the cords, and carried him,
half-dead, to the church, where was their corps du guard; here they tied
him anew to one of the pillars thereof, leaving him in that condition
without giving him either to eat or drink, unless very sparingly and so
little that would scarce sustain life, for some days. Four or five being
past, he desired one of the prisoners might come to him, by whose means he
promised he would endeavour to raise some money to satisfy their demands.
The prisoner whom he desired was brought to him, and he ordered him to
promise the pirates 500 pieces of eight for his ransom; but they were deaf
and obstinate at such a small sum, and instead of accepting it beat him
cruelly with cudgels, saying, ‘Old fellow, instead of 500, 5,000 pieces of
eight; otherwise you shall here end your life.’ Finally, after a thousand
protestations that he was but a miserable man, and kept a poor tavern for
his living, he agreed with them for 1,000 pieces of eight. These he
raised, and having paid them, got his liberty, though so horribly maimed,
that it is scarce to be believed he could survive many weeks.” Morgan
proceeded later to Gibraltar, and his proceedings there are but a
repetition of his former acts. And yet in searching the interior he and
some of his men were at one time in such straits that a couple of score or
so of Spaniards could have annihilated them.

And now they returned to Maracaibo, where an unpleasant surprise awaited
them. They learned from a poor old Spaniard that three large Spanish ships
had arrived off the bar, and were awaiting the exit of the pirates; and,
further, that the castle at the entrance had been repaired, well provided
with guns and ammunition, and thoroughly manned. Morgan sent a boat down
to find out how far this was true, and the report was that its crew had
ventured so near that they were in great danger of being shot; that there
were three great ships, mounting respectively forty, thirty, and
twenty-four guns. Morgan disguised the apprehension he must have felt, and
sent a message, couched in his usual style of braggadocia, demanding a
heavy ransom for not putting the city of Maracaibo to the flames. Here
follows the answer of the Spanish Admiral:—

“_The letter of Don Alonso del Campo y Espinosa, Admiral of the Spanish
Fleet, to Captain Morgan, Commander of the Pirates:_—

“Having understood by all our friends and neighbours the unexpected news
that you have dared to attempt and commit hostilities in the countries,
titles, towns, and villages belonging to the dominions of his Catholic
Majesty, my Sovereign Lord and Master, I let you understand by these lines
that I am come to this place, according to my obligation, near that castle
which you took out of the hands of a parcel of cowards, where I have put
things into a very good posture of defence, and mounted again the
artillery which you nailed and dismounted. My intent is to dispute with
you your passage out of the lake, and follow and pursue you everywhere, to
the end you may see the performance of my duty. Notwithstanding, if you be
contented to surrender with humility all that you have taken, together
with the slaves and all other prisoners, I will let you freely pass,
without trouble or molestation, on condition that you retire home
presently to your own country. But if you make any resistance or
opposition to what I offer you, I assure you I will command boats to come
from Caraccas, wherein I will put my troops, and coming to Maracaibo, will
put you every man to the sword. This is my last and absolute resolution.
Be prudent, therefore, and do not abuse my bounty with ingratitude. I have
with me very good soldiers, who desire nothing more ardently than to
revenge on you and your people all the cruelties and base infamous actions
you have committed upon the Spanish nation in America. Dated on board the
royal ship named the _Magdalen_, lying at anchor at the entry of the lake
of Maracaibo, the 24th April, 1669.

“DON ALONSO DEL CAMPO Y ESPINOSA.”

[Illustration: MORGAN’S ATTACK ON MARACAIBO.]

CHAPTER IV.

THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).

Attack resolved—The Fire-ship—Morgan passes the Castle—Off for St.
Catherine’s—Given up by a Stratagem—St. Catherine’s an Easy
Prey—Power of Fire—Thirty in Three Hundred Saved—The March on
Panama—A Pirate Band of Twelve Hundred—Sufferings on the Way—A
Pipe for Supper—Leather and Cold Water—Panama at last—The First
Encounter—Resolute Fighting—Wild Bulls in Warfare—Victory for the
Pirates—Ruthless Destruction of Property—Cruelty to
Prisoners—Searching for Treasure—Dissatisfaction at the
Dividend—The last of Morgan.

On receipt of the captain’s letter Morgan called his men together and
asked them whether they were going to fight or surrender. They answered
unanimously that they would fight to the last drop of blood rather than
surrender so easily the booty they had obtained with so much danger.
“Among the rest one said to Captain Morgan, ‘Take you care for the rest,
and I will undertake to destroy the biggest of those ships with only
twelve men; the manner shall be by making a _brulot_, or fire-ship, of
that vessel we took in the river of Gibraltar, which, to the intent she
may not be known for a fire-ship, we will fill her decks with logs of
wood, standing with hats and montera caps, to deceive their sight with the
representation of men. The same we will do at the port-holes that serve
for the guns, which shall be filled with counterfeit cannon. At the stern
we will hang out English colours, and persuade the enemy she is one of our
best men-of-war going to fight them.’ This proposition was approved.
Attempts were afterwards made to compromise with Don Alonso, but he would
not listen to them, and sent them a peremptory message, which, simply
translated, meant that they must give in, or give up.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN HENRY MORGAN.
(_From Captain C. Johnson’s __“__Lives of Famous Highwaymen, Pirates,
&c.__”_)]

“No sooner had Captain Morgan received this message from Don Alonso than
he put all things in order to fight, resolving to get out of the lake by
main force, without surrendering anything. First, he commanded all the
slaves and prisoners to be tied and guarded very well, and gathered all
the pitch, tar, and brimstone they could find in the whole town for the
fire-ship above-mentioned. Then they made several inventions of powder and
brimstone with palm-leaves well anointed with tar. They covered very well
their counterfeit cannon, laying under every piece many pounds of powder;
besides, they cut down many outworks of the ship, that the powder might
exert its strength the better; breaking open also new port-holes, where,
instead of guns, they placed little drums used by the negroes. Finally,
the decks were handsomely beset with many pieces of wood, dressed up like
men, with hats or monteras, and armed with swords, muskets, and
bandeleers.”

The fire-ship being fitted, they prepared to proceed to the entry of the
port. All the prisoners were put into one great boat, and in another all
the women were placed, with the plate, jewels, and other rich things; into
others they put the bales of goods, merchandise, and bulky articles. Each
of these boats had twelve armed men aboard; the _brulot_ had orders to go
before the rest of the vessels, and presently to fall foul of the great
ship. All things being ready, Captain Morgan exacted an oath of his
comrades, making them promise to defend themselves to the last drop of
blood without demanding quarter; promising, withal, that whoever behaved
himself thus should be well rewarded.

With this resolution they set sail to meet the Spaniards. On April 30th,
1669, they found the Spanish fleet riding at anchor in the middle of the
entry of the lake. “Captain Morgan, it being now late and almost dark,
commanded all his vessels to an anchor, designing to fight even all night
if they forced him to it. He ordered a careful watch to be kept aboard
every vessel till morning, they being almost within shot, as well as
within sight, of the enemy. The day dawning, they weighed anchor and
sailed again, steering directly towards the Spaniards, who, seeing them
move, did instantly the same. The fire-ship, sailing before the rest, fell
presently upon the great ship and grappled her, which the Spaniards (too
late) perceiving to be a fire-ship, they attempted to put her off, but in
vain; for the flame seizing her timber and tackling, soon consumed all the
stern, the fore-part sinking into the sea, where she perished. The second
Spanish ship perceiving the _Admiral_ to burn, not by accident, but by
industry of the enemy, escaped towards the castle, where the Spaniards
themselves sunk her, choosing to lose their ship rather than to fall into
the hands of those pirates. The third, having no opportunity to escape,
was taken by the pirates.”

The pirates were, we can well believe, rejoiced at this easy victory, and
they now attempted to take the castle. This was thoroughly well garrisoned
and provided, whereas they had nothing but muskets and a few hand
grenades. They consequently failed; the Spaniards gave them volley after
volley, and they at last retired, with a loss of thirty killed and as many
wounded. The attack was not renewed. From a pilot who was taken prisoner
the following day Captain Morgan learned that the expedition, which had
been sent out by the Supreme Council of State in Spain, consisted of six
well-equipped men-of-war, with instructions to root out the English
pirates. It had been organised in Spain, upon the receipt of the news of
the loss of Puerto Bello and other places, after fruitless representations
had been made to the King of England, who simply disclaimed any connivance
with the pirates. Two of the principal vessels had returned to Spain,
being considered too large for the enterprise, and one had been lost in a
gale. This pilot entered the service of Captain Morgan, and informed him
that in the ship which was sunk there was a great quantity of treasure,
and that he could see for himself that the Spaniards, in boats, were
endeavouring to rescue some of it. Morgan again sent a message to the
admiral, who had escaped to the castle, demanding a ransom, or he would
fire Maracaibo. This was at first, of course, indignantly refused, and the
pirate chief renewed his threats, when the Spanish settlers, down-hearted
at their constant ill-fortune, consented to pay the sum of 20,000 pieces
and 500 head of cattle, though the admiral, Don Alonso, sternly objected.

Morgan, in spite of his successes, rather feared passing the castle at the
entrance of the lake, and he endeavoured, by means of the prisoners he
held, to secure his escape, by sending some of them to Don Alonso with a
promise to give them all up if he would not fire, or hang them if he did.
A deputation of prisoners waited on the admiral, urging his consent; but
Don Alonso told them, “If you had been as loyal to your king in hindering
the entry of these pirates as I shall do their going out, you had never
caused these troubles, neither to yourselves nor to our whole nation,
which hath suffered so much through your pusillanimity. In a word, I shall
never grant your request, but shall endeavour to maintain that respect
which is due to my king according to my duty.” Thus the poor wretched
prisoners had to return to Morgan, and report the failure of their
mission. His reply was, in his usual vein, that he would find the means of
accomplishing his object in spite of Don Alonso.

The stratagem employed was as follows:—During the day that they hoped to
escape after dark they put a number of their men in canoes, and rowed
towards the shore, as if they intended to land. There they hid themselves
among the trees and by lying down in the boats. Then the canoes returned
to the ships, two or three men rowing in each, and the rest remaining at
the bottom concealed. Thus much only could be observed from the castle,
and the ruse was repeated several times, the impression given being that
the pirates intended to scale the walls by night from the land. This
caused the Spaniards to place most of their greater guns on the land side,
with the principal part of the garrison, leaving the side towards the sea
almost destitute of defence. Night being come they weighed anchor, and by
moonlight, without setting sail, the tide gently took them towards the
entrance near the castle. Having arrived off the latter, they spread their
sails with all speed. The Spaniards, perceiving this, brought their guns
over to the sea side, but the pirates, being favoured by this loss of time
and also with a good breeze, escaped almost scatheless. Just as they were
departing, Morgan ironically saluted the castle with a volley from seven
of his largest guns.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN MORGAN’S ESCAPE FROM MARACAIBO.]

His next expedition, in which he was joined by many other pirates,
assembled on the south side of Tortuga on October the 24th, 1670, when a
council of ways and means was convened, the principal lack being in
provisions. This, however, was to them a small matter, and they resolved
to rob and rifle the towns and settlements of the mainland. Four vessels
were despatched on this errand to the River de la Hacha, where a village
was situated which was usually well provided with corn. Meanwhile, another
party was despatched into the woods, and the hunters were very successful.
The rest remained in the ships to clean and re-fit them. The river
expedition was becalmed off the coast, which gave the Spaniards ashore
time to hide and take away their goods. A large ship from Carthagena was
lying in the river, laden with maize (Indian corn), ready to depart. The
pirates soon made short work of this vessel, the crew of which was easily
mastered. The Spaniards peppered them from a battery when they landed, but
the freebooters drove them back to a fortified village, whence, after some
little resistance, the former were driven into the woods. They captured,
tortured, and robbed a number of these unfortunate settlers, who at length
were glad to get rid of them by paying a ransom of 4,000 bushels of maize.
Morgan had begun to despair of their return, when they arrived with the
captured ship and an enormous supply of the needed corn.

Captain Morgan having divided the maize, and the flesh which the hunters
brought in, among the ships according to their number of men, he departed,
having inspected beforehand every ship. “Thus he set sail, and stood for
Cape Tiburon, where he resolved to determine what enterprise he should
take in hand. No sooner were they arrived, but they met some other ships
newly come to join them from Jamaica; so that now their fleet consisted of
thirty-seven ships, wherein were 2,000 fighting men, beside mariners and
boys.

“Captain Morgan having such a number of ships, divided the whole fleet
into two squadrons, constituting a Vice-Admiral and other officers of the
second squadron distinct from the first. To these he gave letters patent,
or commissions to act all manner of hostilities against the Spanish
nation, and take of them what ships they could, either abroad at sea or in
the harbours, as if they were open and declared enemies (as he termed it)
of the King of England, his pretended master. This done, he called all his
captains and other officers together, and caused them to sign some
articles of agreement betwixt them, and in the name of all. Herein it was
stipulated that he should have the hundredth part of all that was gotten
to himself; that every captain should draw the shares of eight men for the
expenses of his ship besides his own. To the surgeon, besides his pay, 200
pieces of eight for his chest of medicaments. To every carpenter, above
his salary, 100 pieces of eight. The rewards were settled in this voyage
much higher than before: as, for the loss of both hands, 1,800 pieces of
eight, or eighteen slaves; for one leg, whether right or left, 600 pieces
of eight, or six slaves; for a hand as much as for a leg; and for the loss
of an eye 100 pieces of eight or one slave. Lastly, to him that in any
battle should signalise himself, either by entering first any castle, or
taking down the Spanish colours and setting up the English, they allotted
fifty pieces of eight for a reward. All which extraordinary salaries and
rewards to be paid out of the first spoil they should take, as every one
should occur to be either rewarded or paid.” The first captain who should
take a Spanish vessel was to receive the tenth part of its value. One of
three cities was to be attacked—Carthagena, Panama, or Vera Cruz; and
after a council had been held the lot fell on Panama. They resolved to
first visit the Isle of St. Catherine, there to obtain guides for the
enterprise.

As soon as Captain Morgan approached the island he sent one of his best
sailing vessels to examine the entrance of the river, and see whether
there were any foreign ships there, and next day they anchored in a
neighbouring bay, where the Spaniards had built a battery, which made no
resistance. Morgan landed about 1,000 men, and marched them through the
woods, where they discovered another deserted battery, the Spaniards
having retired to the smaller and adjacent island, which was thoroughly
fortified. As soon as the pirates got in range the Spaniards opened a
furious fire upon them, and the former were that day compelled to retreat
to a hungry camp, as they had come utterly unprovided, while about
midnight the rain somewhat damped their ardour. They passed a miserable
and shelterless night; nor did the weather improve next day, when they
found in the fields an old lean and diseased horse, which they killed and
ate, but this was not anything like sufficient to satisfy the cravings of
their hunger, as it afforded only a morsel each for a part of them, some
being compelled to go entirely without. But nothing could daunt Morgan,
and he had the audacity to send a canoe with a flag of truce to the
Spanish governor, telling him that he would put the Spaniards to the
sword, without quarter, if they did not instantly submit.

In the afternoon the canoe returned with this answer:—“That the governor
desired two hours’ time to deliberate with his officers about it, which
having passed he would give his positive answer.” This time elapsed, the
governor sent two canoes with white colours, having on board two persons
to treat with Captain Morgan; but, before they landed, they demanded of
the pirates two men as hostages. These were readily granted by Captain
Morgan, who delivered up two of his captains for a pledge of the security
required. The Spaniards then announced that they had resolved to deliver
up the island, not being provided with sufficient forces to defend it
against a fleet. Morgan was asked to use a stratagem of war, for the
better saving of their credit, which was as follows:—That he would come
with his troops by night to the bridge that joined the smaller island to
the principal one, and there attack the fort of St. Jerome; that at the
same time all his fleet would draw near the castle of Santa Teresa and
attack it by land, landing in the meantime more troops near the battery of
St. Matthew; that these troops being landed, should by this means
intercept the governor as he endeavoured to pass to St. Jerome’s fort, and
then take him prisoner, making pretence as if they had forced him to
deliver the castle, and that he would lead the English into it under
colour of being his own troops. That on both sides there should be
continual firing carried on, but without bullets, or at least that they
should be fired only into the air, so that no side might be hurt. That
thus having obtained two such considerable forts, the chiefest of the
isle, he need not take care for the rest, which must fall of course into
his hands.

These propositions were granted by Captain Morgan, and, soon after, he
commanded the whole fleet to enter the port, and his men to be ready to
assault that night the Castle of St. Jerome. Thus the false battle began,
with incessant firing from both the castles against the ships, but without
bullets, as was agreed. Then the pirates landed, and assaulted the lesser
island by night, which they took, with both the fortresses, forcing the
Spaniards, in appearance, to fly to the church.

St. Catherine’s thus became an easy prey to Morgan and his followers, and
the first few days were simply spent in riotous feasting. The prisoners
which they had taken numbered 459 souls; and besides all kinds of plunder
they secured no less than thirty thousand pounds of powder, together with
large quantities of other ammunition. The fortresses were, with one
exception, demolished.

Morgan’s next enterprise was against the important city of Panama. He took
with him 1,200 men, five boats laden with artillery, and thirty-two
canoes. But the Chagres river of the time was very like that of to-day—a
shallow stream, except in the freshet season—and after a few days of
tedious progress, they left it, preferring to continue their journey by
land. On this trip a pipe of tobacco was the only supper that many of them
could obtain, while a piece of leather, washed down by a draught of muddy
water, formed, by comparison, a splendid meal.

On the ninth day of that tedious journey, Captain Morgan marched on while
the fresh air of the morning lasted, a common practice in very hot
countries. The way was now more difficult than before; but after two
hours’ march they observed some Spaniards in the distance, who watched
their motions. They endeavoured to catch some of them, but could not, as
they would suddenly disappear, and hide themselves in caves among the
rocks, unknown to the pirates. At last, ascending a high hill, the latter
saw in the distance the blue waters of the Pacific, then known as the
South Sea. This happy sight, as it seemed the end of their labours, caused
great joy among them; they could see, also, one ship and six boats, which
were sailing from Panama, and proceeded to the Islands of Torvoga and
Tavogilla; then they came to a valley, where they found cattle in
abundance, of which they killed a number. There, while some killed and
flayed horses, cows, bulls, and asses, others kindled fires, and got wood
to roast them; then cutting the flesh into convenient pieces, or gobbets,
they threw them into the fire, and, half burnt or roasted, they devoured
them with greedy appetite. Such was their hunger, they behaved as though
they were rather cannibals than Europeans, “the blood many times running
down from their beards to their waists.”

A little while after they came in sight of the highest steeple in Panama;
and one can imagine their satisfaction. All their trumpets were sounded,
and drums beat. Then they pitched their camp for that night; the whole
army waiting with impatience for the morning, when they intended to attack
the city. During the evening fifty horse appeared, who came out of the
city on the noise of the drums and trumpets, to observe the enemy’s
position, and came almost within musket-shot of the army. Those on
horseback hallooed to the pirates, and threatened them, saying, “Perros!
nos veremos!”—that is, “Ye dogs! we shall meet ye!” They then returned to
the city, except only seven or eight horsemen, who hovered about to watch
the pirates. “Immediately after the city fired, and ceased not to play
their biggest guns all night long against the camp, but with little or no
harm to the pirates, whom they could not easily reach. Now also the 200
Spaniards, whom the pirates had seen in the afternoon, appeared again,
making a show of blocking up the passages, that no pirates might escape
their hands. But the pirates, though in a manner besieged, instead of
fearing their blockades, as soon as they had placed sentinels about their
camp, opened their satchels, and, without any napkins or plates, fell to
eating very heartily the pieces of bulls’ and horses’ flesh which they had
reserved since noon. This done they laid themselves down to sleep on the
grass, with great repose and satisfaction, expecting only with impatience
the dawning of the next day.

“The tenth day, betimes in the morning, they put all their men in order,
and, with drums and trumpets sounding, marched directly towards the city;
but one of the guides directed Captain Morgan not to take the common
highway, lest they should find in it many ambuscades. He took his advice,
and chose another way through the wood, though very irksome and difficult.
The Spaniards, perceiving the pirates had taken another way they scarce
had thought of, were compelled to leave their barricades and batteries,
and come out to meet them. The Governor of Panama put his forces in order,
consisting of two squadrons, four regiments of foot, and a large number of
wild bulls, which were driven by a large number of Indians, with some
negroes and others to help them.”

The pirates, now upon their march, came to the top of a low hill, whence
they had a prospect of the city and champaigne country underneath. Here
they found the forces of the people of Panama in battle array to be so
numerous that they were rather alarmed. Much doubting the fortunes of the
day, most of them wished themselves at home, or at least free from the
obligation of fighting at that moment, but it was obvious that they must
either fight resolutely or die; for no quarter could be expected from an
enemy on whom they had committed so many cruelties. They divided
themselves into three battalions, sending in advance two hundred
bucaniers, who were good shots. Descending the hill they marched directly
towards the Spaniards, who waited for their coming. As soon as they
approached, the Spaniards began to shout and cry, “Viva el Roy!” (“God
save the King!”) and immediately their horse moved against the pirates;
but the fields being full of quagmires, soft under foot, they could not
wheel about as they desired. The two hundred bucaniers who went before,
each putting one knee to the ground, began the battle briskly with a full
volley of shot; the Spaniards defended themselves courageously, doing all
they could to disorder the enemy. Their infantry endeavoured to second the
cavalry, but were constrained by the pirates to leave them. Finding
themselves baffled, they attempted to drive a number of half-wild bulls
against them behind, to put them into disorder; but the cattle ran away
frightened with the noise of the battle; some few broke through the
English companies, and only tore the colours in pieces, while the
bucaniers shot every one of them dead.

The battle having continued two hours, the greater part of the Spanish
horse was routed, and almost all killed; the rest fled, which the foot
seeing, and finding that they could not possibly prevail, they discharged
the shot they had in their muskets, and throwing them down, fled away,
every one as he could. The pirates could not follow them, being too much
harassed and wearied with their long journey. Many, not being able to fly
whither they desired, hid themselves temporarily among the shrubs of the
sea-side, but very unfortunately, for most of them being found by the
pirates were instantly killed, without any quarter. Some priests were
brought prisoners before Captain Morgan, but he was deaf to their cries,
and commanded them all to be pistolled, which was done. Soon after they
brought a captain to him, whom he examined very strictly as to the forces
of Panama. He answered, their whole strength consisted in four hundred
horse, twenty-four companies of foot, each of one hundred men complete;
sixty Indians and some negroes, who were to drive two thousand wild bulls
upon the English, and thus, by breaking their files, put them into a total
disorder; besides, that in the city they had made trenches and raised
batteries in several places; and that at the entry of the highway leading
to the city, they had built a fort mounted with eight great brass guns,
defended by fifty men. The pirates were now, however, both elated by their
successes and furious at their losses, and that same day the city fell
completely into their hands. Strict injunctions were given to the
freebooters not to even taste the wine they found, as the captain feared
that a considerable amount of debauchery must ensue after the privations
they had endured. He gave out, however, that he had been informed that the
wine was poisoned. Captain Morgan, as soon as he had placed the necessary
guards, commanded twenty-five men to seize a large boat, which had stuck
in the mud of the port, for want of water, at a low tide. The same day,
about noon, he fired privately several great edifices of the city, nobody
knowing who was the author of the outrage; the fire increased so that
before night the greater part of the city was in flames. Captain Morgan
pretended that the Spaniards had done it, finding that his own people
blamed him for the action. Many of the Spaniards, and some of the pirates,
did what they could either to quench the flames, or, by blowing up houses
with gunpowder, and pulling down others, to stop it, but almost in vain,
for in less than half an hour it consumed a whole street. All the houses
of the city were then built of cedar.

[Illustration: BURNING OF PANAMA.]

Next day Captain Morgan despatched away two troops, of 150 men each, to
seek for the inhabitants who had escaped. Above 200 prisoners, men, women,
and slaves, were taken. Three other boats were also taken. But all these
prizes they would willingly have given for one galleon, which miraculously
escaped, richly laden with the king’s plate, jewels, and other precious
goods of the best and richest merchants of Panama; a number of nuns also
had embarked with them all the ornaments of their church, consisting of
gold, plate, and other things of great value. “The strength of this
galleon was inconsiderable, having only seven guns and ten or twelve
muskets, and very ill provided with victuals, necessaries, and fresh
water.” They subsequently took a tolerably rich prize, having on board
20,000 dollars in coin.

February 24th, 1671, Captain Morgan departed from Panama, or rather from
the place where Panama had once stood.(6) The spoils included 175 beasts
of burden, laden with silver and gold, besides about 600 prisoners, men,
women, children, and slaves.

When the march began, the cries and shrieks of the unfortunate prisoners
were renewed, which did not worry Captain Morgan. They marched in the same
order as before, one party of the pirates in the van, the prisoners in the
middle, and the rest of the pirates in the rear, by whom the miserable
Spaniards were abused, punched, and thrust in their backs and sides, to
make them walk faster. A beautiful and virtuous lady, the wife of a
merchant, was led prisoner by herself, between two pirates. Her
lamentations pierced the skies, seeing herself carried away into
captivity, often crying to the pirates, and telling them “that she had
given orders to two religious persons, in whom she had relied, to go to a
certain place, and fetch so much as her ransom did amount to; that they
had promised faithfully to do it, but having obtained the money, instead
of bringing it to her, they had employed it another way, to ransom some of
their own and particular friends.” This Captain Morgan found to be true,
and he gave the lady her liberty; otherwise he had designed to transport
her to Jamaica. But he detained the monks as prisoners in her place, using
them according to their deserts. Many of the prisoners ransomed themselves
later, while others were taken to Jamaica and sold. About half-way across
the Isthmus Morgan had his men searched, going through the form himself.
This was to see whether any one had secreted valuables for his own use.
The French pirates of Morgan’s expedition took great offence at this, but
they were forced to submit. At Chagres the dividend was made, and there
was a considerable amount of dissatisfaction, his own companions telling
him to his face that he had reserved the best jewels for himself. It
appears likely that he had done so, and at all events, at this period he
suddenly sailed away from the larger part of his pirate-associates, and
left them in the lurch. Indeed, afterwards, some of them suffered great
privations before they reached the common rendezvous in Jamaica.

Many of Morgan’s former associates vowed to murder him if they could catch
him, believing that he had enriched himself greatly at their expense. He,
for the nonce, settled in Jamaica, and married the daughter of a wealthy
man. Long after this the pirates sought means to punish him, and hearing
that he intended to retire to the island of St. Catherine, vowed among
themselves to waylay him on the voyage. An unexpected incident saved
Morgan. At this very crisis a new governor (Lord Vaughan) arrived at Port
Royal, Jamaica, bringing a royal order for the successful bucanier to be
sent to England, to answer the complaints of the King of Spain, in regard
to the depredations made on his subjects. Of his trial little or nothing
is known, but he was soon after knighted by Charles II., and appointed
Commissioner for the Admiralty at Jamaica! Furthermore, in the autumn of
1680, the Earl of Carnarvon, then Governor of Jamaica, returning to
England, left the _ci-devant_ pirate as his deputy, and Morgan seized the
opportunity to hang many of his old comrades! In the next reign he was
thrown into prison—wherefore, precisely is not known, and his final fate
is uncertain. So much for the vicissitudes of a pirate’s life.

CHAPTER V.

THE PIRATES AND BUCANIERS (_continued_).

The Exploits of Captain Sawkins—Three Ships attacked by
Canoes—Valiant Peralta—Explosion on Board—Miserable Sight on Two
Ship’s Decks—Capture of an Empty Ship—Dissatisfaction among the
Pirates—Desertion of many—Message from the Governor of Panama—The
Pirate Captain’s Bravado—His Death—Fear inspired on all the
Southern Coasts—Preparations for punishing and hindering the
Bucaniers—Captain Kidd—His first Commission as Privateer—Turns
Pirate—The Mocha Fleet—Almost a Mutiny on Board—Kills his
Gunner—Capture of Rich Prizes—A Rich Ransom derided—Grand
Dividend—Kidd deserted by some of his Men—Proclamation of
Pardon—Kidd excepted—Rushes on his Doom—Arrested in New York—Trial
at the Old Bailey—Pleadings—Execution with Six Companions.

Among the great bucaniers of the seventeenth century were Captains Coxon,
Harris, Bournano, Sawkins, and Sharp, of the exploits of only one or two
of whom we shall have space to speak. On one of their principal
expeditions they started with nine vessels, having on board 460 men, and,
after a desertion of two of the ships’ companies, had still three-fourths
of the number left. Their march from the coast of Darien—the point of
destination being the unfortunate city of Panama—presented similar
difficulties to those already experienced by Morgan, and the narration of
them would be, therefore, tedious. On the way they took the town of Santa
Maria, but did not obtain much booty. From thence they proceeded by river,
in thirty-five canoes and a boat, to the Pacific Ocean. At the mouth of
the river, and on the rocks outside, some of them were shipwrecked, and
for a time the company became separated, although almost all of them were
able afterwards to rejoin. On the morning of April 23rd, 1680 (St.
George’s Day), they arrived within sight of the city of Panama, and also
in full view of some Spanish men-of-war ready for the fray, as they
immediately weighed anchor and sailed towards them. Some of the canoes
were sailing faster than the boats, and there was every fear that the
former would be run down by the ships. When the fight commenced, the
pirates had only sixty-eight men to contend against 228, Biscayans,
mulattoes, and negroes.

[Illustration: VIEW OF PANAMA.]

Captain Sawkins’s canoe, and also that on which was the narrator of the
fight, were much to leeward of the rest, so that one of the Spanish ships
came between the two and fired on both, wounding, with these broadsides,
five men in the two canoes. But the commander paid dearly for his passage
between them, as he was not quick in coming about again, and making the
same way; for the pirates killed, with their first volley, several of his
men upon the decks. Thus they got also to windward, as the rest were
before. The admiral of this armadilla (or little fleet) came up with them
instantly, scarce giving time to charge, thinking to pass by them all with
as little damage as the first of the ships had done. But, as it happened,
it turned out much the worse for him; for they were so fortunate as to
kill the man at the helm, so that his ship ran into the wind, and her
sails lay aback. By this means they all had time to come up under her
stern, and, firing continually into his vessel, they killed all that came
to the helm; besides which slaughter they cut asunder his mainsheet and
brace with their shot. At this time the third vessel was coming to the aid
of their general. Hereupon Captain Sawkins, who had changed his canoe and
had gone into one of the boats, left the admiral to four canoes (for his
own was quite disabled), and met the captain of the second ship. “Between
him and Captain Sawkins,” says the chronicler, “the dispute was very hot,
lying aboard each other, and both giving and receiving death as fast as
they could charge. While we were thus engaged the first ship tacked about,
and came up to relieve the admiral; but, we perceiving it, and foreseeing
how hard it would go with us if we should be beaten from the admiral’s
stern, determined to prevent his design. Hereupon two of our canoes, to
wit, Captain Springer’s and my own, stood off to meet him. He made up
directly towards the admiral, who stood upon the quarter-deck waving unto
him with a handkerchief so to do; but we engaged him so closely in the
middle of his way, that had he not given us the helm, and made away from
us, we had certainly been on board him. We killed so many of the men that
the vessel had scarce men enough left alive, or unwounded, to carry her
off; yet, the wind now blowing fresh, they made shift to get away from us,
and save their lives.

“The vessel which was to relieve the admiral being thus put to flight, we
came about again upon the admiral, and all together gave a loud halloo,
which was answered by our men in the periagua (large boat), though at a
distance from us. At that time we came so close under the stern of the
admiral, that we wedged up the rudder; and withal killed both the admiral
himself and the chief pilot of his ship; so that now they were almost
quite disabled and disheartened likewise, seeing what a bloody massacre we
had made among them with our shot. Hereupon, two-thirds of his men being
killed, and many others wounded, they cried for quarter, which had several
times been offered to them, and as stoutly denied till then. Captain Coxon
boarded the admiral, and took with him Captain Harris, who had been shot
through both his legs as he boldly adventured up along the side of the
ship. This vessel being thus taken we put on board her all our wounded
men, and instantly manned two of our canoes to go and aid Captain Sawkins,
who had now been three times beaten from on board Peralta, such valiant
defence had he made; and, indeed, to give our enemies their due, no men in
the world did ever act more bravely than these Spaniards.

“Thus coming close under Peralta’s side, we gave him a full volley of
shot, and expected to have the like return from him again; but on a sudden
we saw his men blown up that were abaft the mast, some of them falling on
the deck and others into the sea. This disaster was soon perceived by
their valiant captain Peralta; but he leaped overboard, and, in spite of
all our shot got several of them back into the ship again, though he was
much burnt in both his hands himself. But as one misfortune seldom cometh
alone, meanwhile he was recovering these men to reinforce his ship withal
and renew the fight, another jar of powder took fire forward, and blew up
several others upon the forecastle. Among this smoke, and under the
opportunity thereof, Captain Sawkins laid them on board, and took the
ship.”

Soon after they were taken the narrator went on board Captain Peralta’s
vessel to see what condition they were in, and a miserable sight it was;
for there was not a man that was not either killed, desperately wounded,
or horribly burnt with powder. Their dark skins were frequently turned
white, the powder having torn it from their flesh and bones. On the
admiral’s ship there were but twenty-five men alive out of eighty-six. Of
these twenty-five men only eight were able to bear arms, all the rest
being desperately wounded and by their wounds totally disabled to make any
resistance, or defend themselves. Their blood ran down the decks in whole
streams, and scarce one place in the ship was found that was free from
blood.

Having possessed themselves of these two vessels, Captain Sawkins asked
the prisoners how many men there were on board the greatest ship, lying in
the harbour of the island of Perico, as also on the others that were
something smaller. Captain Peralta hearing these questions, dissuaded him
as much as he could, saying that in the biggest alone there were three
hundred and fifty men, and that he would find the rest too well provided
for defence against his small number. But one of the men who lay dying
upon the deck contradicted Peralta as he was speaking, and told Captain
Sawkins there was not one man on board those ships that were in view, for
they had all been taken out of them to fight the pirates, in the three
vessels just taken. These words were credited as proceeding from a dying
man; and steering their course to the island they went on board them, and
found, as he had said, not one person there. The largest of the ships,
which was called _La __Santissima Trinidad_, they had set on fire. They
had also made a hole in her, and loosened her fore-sail. But they quenched
the fire with all speed, and stopped the leak. This being done they put
their wounded men on board her, and made her for the present their
hospital.

Having surveyed their own loss, they found eighteen of their men had been
killed in the fight, and twenty-two wounded. The three captains against
whom they had fought had been esteemed by the Spaniards the bravest in all
the “South Seas”; neither was their reputation undeserved, as may easily
be inferred from the narrative given of the engagement. As the third ship
was running away from the fight, she met with two more coming out to their
assistance; but gave them so little encouragement that they turned back
and dared not engage the pirates. The fight began about half an hour after
sunrise, and by noon the battle was finished. Captain Peralta, while he
was their prisoner, would often break out into admiration of their valour,
and say that surely “Englishmen were the most valiant men in the whole
world, who endeavoured always to fight openly, whilst all other nations
invented all the ways imaginable to barricade themselves, and fight as
close as they could.”

Other vessels were shortly afterwards taken. But in spite of their
successes, there was dissatisfaction among some of the pirates, and
Captain Coxon was openly branded as a coward by some of them, for the
small part he had taken in the engagement. He immediately deserted with
seventy of the men. Soon afterwards other pirates, however, joined the
forces.

Eight days after their arrival at Tavoga (now called Toboga), they took a
ship that was coming from Truxillo, and bound for Panama. In this vessel
they found two thousand jars of wine, fifty jars of gunpowder, and
fifty-one thousand pieces of eight. This money had been sent from that
city to pay the soldiers belonging to the garrison of Panama. From the
prize they had information that there was another ship coming from Lima
with one hundred thousand pieces of eight more, which vessel was to sail
ten or twelve days after them, and which, they said, could not be long
before she arrived at Panama. Within two days after this intelligence they
took another ship laden with flour from Truxillo, and the men on this
prize confirmed what the first had told them, and said that the rich
vessel might be expected there in the space of eight or ten days.

While they lay at Tavoga the President or Governor of Panama sent a
message by some merchants to them to know what they came for. To this
message Captain Sawkins made answer that “he came to assist the King of
Darien, who was the true lord of Panama and all the country thereabouts,
and that since he had come so far it was reasonable that they should have
some satisfaction. So that if he pleased to send five hundred pieces of
eight for each man and one thousand for each commander, and would not any
further annoy the Indians, but suffer them to use their own power and
liberty, as became the true and natural lords of the country, that then
they would desist from further hostilities, and go away peaceably;
otherwise, that he should stay there, and get what he could, causing the
Spaniards what damage was possible.” From the Panama merchants they
learned there lived there as Bishop of Panama, one who had formerly been
Bishop of Santa Martha, and who had been prisoner to Captain Sawkins when
he took the place about four or five years before. The captain having
received this intelligence sent two loaves of sugar to the bishop as a
present. The next day the merchant who carried them, returning to Tavoga,
brought the captain a gold ring, and a message to Captain Sawkins from the
President above mentioned, to know farther of him, since they were
Englishmen, “From whom they had their commission, and to whom he ought to
complain for the damages they had already done them?” To this message
Captain Sawkins sent back for an answer, “that as yet all his company were
not come together, but that when they were come up, they would come and
visit him at Panama, and bring their commissions on the muzzles of their
guns; at which time he should read them as plain as the flame of gunpowder
could make them.” But Sawkins’s bravado never came to anything, and he was
shortly afterwards killed at Puebla Nueva.

But the impression made by the pirates’ deeds had spread far and wide.
Some time afterwards, when Captain Sharp, who succeeded Sawkins, and had
made several captures in the meantime, took a vessel of the Spanish armada
on that coast (not the Great Armada, gentle reader; the word simply
signifies “fleet”) the captain proved to them in a speech how the fame and
fear of the pirates had pervaded the South Pacific, and what preparations
had been made to resist them. He said, “Gentlemen, I am now your prisoner
of war by the overruling providence of Fortune; and, moreover, am very
well satisfied that no money whatsoever can procure my ransom, at least
for the present, at your hands; hence I am persuaded it is not my interest
to tell you a lie, which if I do, I desire you to punish me as severely as
you think fit. We heard of your taking and destroying our armadilla and
other ships at Panama, about six weeks after that engagement, by two
several barks which arrived here from thence; but they could not inform us
whether you designed to come any farther to the southward, but rather
desired we would send them speedily all the help by sea that we possibly
could; hereupon we sent the rumour of your being in these seas to Lima,
desiring they would expedite what succour they could send to join with
ours. We had at that time in our harbour two or three great ships, but all
of them very unfit to sail; for this reason, at Lima, the Viceroy of Peru
pressed three large merchant-ships, into the biggest of which he put
fourteen brass guns, into the second ten, and in the other six. Unto these
he added two barks, and put 750 men on board them all. Of this number of
men they landed eight score at Point St. Helen, all the rest being carried
down to Panama, with design to fight you there. Besides these forces two
other men-of-war, bigger than the afore-mentioned, are still lying at
Lima, and fitting out with all speed to follow and pursue you. One of
these men-of-war is equipped with thirty-six brass guns, and the other
with thirty; these ships, besides their complement of seamen, have 400
soldiers added to them by the viceroy. Another man-of-war belonging to
this number, and lesser than the afore-mentioned, is called the _Patache_.
This ship carries twenty-four guns, and was sent to Arica to fetch the
king’s plate from thence; but the viceroy having received intelligence of
your exploits at Panama, sent for this ship back from thence in such haste
that they came away and left the money behind them. Hence the _Patache_
now lies at the port of Callao, ready to sail on the first occasion, or
news of your arrival thereabout; they having for this purpose sent to all
parts very strict orders to keep a good look-out on all sides, and all
places along the coast. Since this, from Manta, they sent us word that
they had seen two ships at sea pass by that place; and from the Goat Key
also we heard that the Indians had seen you, and that they were assured
that one of your vessels was the ship called _La Trinidad_, which you had
taken before Panama, as being a ship well known in these seas. From hence
we concluded that your design was to ply and make your voyage thereabouts.
Now this bark wherein you took us prisoners being bound for Panama, the
Governor of Guayaquil sent us out before her departure, if possible, to
discover you; which, if we did, we were to run the bark on shore and get
away, or else to fight you with these soldiers and fire-arms that you see.
As soon as we heard of your being in the seas we built two forts, the one
of six guns, and the other of four, for the defence of the town. At the
last muster taken, in the town of Guayaquil, we had there 850 men of all
colours; but when we came out we left only 250 men that were actually
under arms.” The story of Sharp and others of the pirates, after this,
shows that the Spanish preparations had a very decided effect on the
spoils they were able to acquire. Their gains were small; and apart from
the dangers of the sea, a number barely escaped being massacred ashore at
the Island of Plate. When they attempted to return by the Straits of
Magellan, they were tempest-tossed and sorely tried. They could not find
the entrance to the straits, and eventually rounded America by what is
described as “an unknown way.” That unknown route was unmistakably _viâ_
Cape Horn.

Among the notorious pirates probably no one is better known in England
than Captain Robert Kidd, whose trial and execution formed the subject of
many once popular ballads. He commenced life in the king’s service, and
had so far distinguished himself, that we find him in the first month of
1695 receiving a commission from His Majesty William III. to command a
“private” man-of-war to “apprehend, seize, and take” certain American
pirates. The privateer was actually fitted out at the expense of Lord
Bellamont, at one time Governor of Barbadoes, and others, who knew the
wealth that the pirates had acquired; and they obtained the king’s
commission, partly with the view of keeping the men under better command,
and also to give their enterprise some sort of sanction of legality. Kidd
sailed for New York, where he engaged more men, increasing his officers
and crew to a total of 150. Each man was to have one share in any division
of spoil, while he reserved for himself and owners forty shares. This
vessel was the _Adventure_ galley, of thirty guns.

After calling at Madeira and the De Verde Islands for provisions and
necessaries, he set sail for Madagascar, then a rendezvous of the Indian
Ocean pirates. After cruising on that and the Malabar coasts, where he was
not at first successful in meeting with any of the pirate vessels, he
touched at a place called Mabbee, on the Red Sea, where he helped himself
to a quantity of the natives’ corn, without offering payment. Hitherto he
had acted strictly in his capacity as a legalised privateer, but he now
began to show his true colours. The Mocha fleet was expected shortly to
pass that way, and when he proposed to his crew that they should attack
it, one and all agreed. He thereupon sent a well-manned boat to
reconnoitre, which returned in a few days with the news that there were
fourteen or fifteen ships about to sail. It will be understood that the
Mocha fleet had nothing to do with American pirates, but was a commercial
fleet, in this case consisting of English, Dutch, and Moorish vessels,
convoyed by a vessel or vessels of war, in the fashion of those days. The
man at the masthead soon announced its approach, and Kidd, getting into
the midst of the vessels, fired briskly at a Moorish ship. Two men-of-war,
however, bore down upon him, and knowing he was not a match for them, Kidd
reluctantly put on all sail, and ran away. Shortly afterwards he took a
small vessel belonging to Moorish owners, the master being an Englishman,
whom he forced into his service as pilot. He used the men brutally, having
them hoisted by the arms and drubbed with a cutlass, to find out whether
or no any valuables were on board. As there was next to nothing to be
found, he seized some quantity of coffee and pepper, and let the vessel
go. When he touched shortly afterwards at a Moorish port, he found that he
was suspected, and soon after this he discovered that many places along
the coast had become alarmed. A Portuguese man-of-war was despatched after
him, and met him; he fought her gallantly for about six hours, when he
again became convinced that prudence, in his case, was the better part of
valour, and made good his escape.

Not long after this he encountered a Moorish vessel, having for master a
Dutch “schipper.” Kidd chased her under French colours, and hailed her in
the same language. A Frenchman on board answered, when he was told, “you
are the captain,” meaning, “you must be.” Kidd’s reason for this was that
he held, in addition to his commission against pirates, one called a
“commission of reprisal” against French vessels. At this time he seems to
have been almost doubtful as to his course of action, for while he took
the cargo of the last-named ship, he refused to attack a Dutch vessel
which he met some time afterwards. In this case there was almost a mutiny
on board, a majority being in favour of attack. Many threatened even to
man a boat and seize her, which Kidd prevented by swearing that if they
did they would never come on board his ship again. His gunner shortly
afterwards reproached him with this matter, and said that he had ruined
them all. Kidd, whose career might have ended much sooner than it did, if
the mutinous ones had been so disposed, was equal to the emergency.
Politely calling his gunner “a dog,” he raised a bucket and broke it over
the unfortunate man’s skull, who died a day after. A Portuguese prize of
tolerable value, containing Indian goods, jars of butter, bags of rice,
wax, &c., was taken shortly afterwards, and this put the crew in better
humour, which was vastly increased when he fell in with the _Quieda
Merchant_, a richly-laden Moorish ship of 400 tons, having for master an
Englishman named Wright. Kidd chased her under French colours, and took
her without a struggle. There were hardly any Europeans on board, but
there were a number of Armenian merchants. The pirate at first proposed
that they should pay a ransom, and that he would let them depart in peace.
They offered a sum something under £3,000, at which he laughed, and seized
the vessel, selling the cargo at various points, where he also left the
crew. When the division of the spoil was made, each man netted about £200,
while his forty shares amounted to a total of £8,000. In spite of these
enormous gains he was not above cheating some poor natives shortly
afterwards, who up to that time had been accustomed to look upon even
pirates as fair dealers in petty matters.

With the _Quieda Merchant_ and _Adventure_ he sailed once more for
Madagascar, where he, unfortunately for himself, met with some Englishmen
who knew him. Among them was a pirate named Culliford. When they met, they
told him that they had been informed he was sent out to take them and hang
them. Kidd laughed at their fears, and told them that they might look upon
him as a brother, pledging them in wine. The _Adventure_ was now old and
leaky, and Kidd shifted his guns and stores to the prize. Here he acted
fairly to his men, by dividing such of the cargo, &c., which was
available; a number of them returned the compliment by deserting him,
others remaining in the country, and some going on board Captain
Culliford’s ship.

At Amboyna, where he touched soon afterwards, he learnt that his
proceedings were understood in England, and that he had been declared a
pirate. The fact was that questions had been asked in Parliament regarding
the commission which had been given to him, and those who had fitted out
the vessel. The discussion seemed to Lord Bellamont to bear hardly on him,
and after Kidd’s execution, he published a pamphlet defending his course.
But to stop the piracy so common in those days, a free pardon was offered
to those pirates who had been engaged in the Eastern African waters who
should surrender their persons any time prior to the 30th April, 1699.
Kidd and Avery, the latter of whom we shall hereafter meet, were excepted
distinctly in the proclamation. When Kidd left Amboyna he most certainly
did not know this fact, or he would not have rushed into the lion’s jaw.
Trusting to his money, and his influence with Lord Bellamont, he sailed
for New York, where on arrival he was arrested with other of his
companions, and sent to England for trial.

A solemn session of Admiralty was that which met at the Old Bailey, in
May, 1701, when Captain Kidd and nine others were arraigned for piracy and
robbery on the high seas. All were found guilty except three, who were
proved to have been apprentices. Kidd was also tried for the murder of his
gunner, and found guilty. The men pleaded variously, and two of them had
undoubtedly surrendered themselves within the time limited by the
proclamation. Colonel Bass, the Governor of West Jersey (now the state of
New Jersey, adjoining that of New York), corroborated this statement. It
was shown that they had not surrendered to a commission of four specially
sent over for the purpose, and they were condemned to die. This was, as
far as the writer can judge, a hard case. Another seaman, Darby Mullins,
said in his defence that he served under the king’s commission, and had no
right to disobey any commands of his superior officer; that, in fact, the
men were never allowed to question his authority, because it would destroy
all discipline; and that even if unlawful acts were committed, the
officers were the persons to answer it, not the men. He was answered that
serving as he did only entitled him to do that which was lawful, not that
which was unlawful. He replied that the case of a seaman must be bad
indeed, if he were punished in both cases, for obeying and for not obeying
his officers, and that if he were allowed to dispute his superior’s
orders, there would be no such thing as command on the high seas. This
ingenious defence availed him nothing; he had taken a share of the
plunder, and had mutinied, showing no regard to the commission; and
further, had acted in accordance with the customs of pirates and
freebooters. The jury brought him in guilty with the rest.

Kidd’s defence was not strong, as a matter of legal argument. He insisted
that he had been more sinned against than sinning. He said that he went
out on a laudable employment, and had no occasion, being then in good
circumstances, to go a pirating; that the men had frequently mutinied, and
that he had been threatened in his own cabin, and that ninety-five
deserted him at one time and set fire to his boat, so that he was disabled
from bringing his ship home, or the prizes he took, to have them regularly
condemned, which prizes, he said, were taken under virtue of his
commission, they having French passes (false). A witness, Colonel Hewson,
spoke highly of his previous reputation for bravery. So much of his own
statement was doubtful or false that he was found guilty. When the judge
put on the black cap, Kidd stood up and said: “My lord, it is a very hard
sentence. For my part I am the most innocent person of them all, and have
been sworn against by perjured persons.” A week after the bodies of Kidd
and six of his men were seen by the passers-by on the river, hanging high,
suspended by chains, a warning especially to the seamen of and entering to
the port of London not to turn pirates.

CHAPTER VI.

THE PIRATES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Difference between the Pirates of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth
Centuries—Avery’s brief Career—A Captain all at Sea—Capture of his
Ship—Madagascar, a Rendezvous for Pirates—A Rich Prize—The Great
Mogul’s Ship taken—Immense Spoils—The Great Mogul’s Rage—Avery’s
Treachery—His Companions abandon their Evil Ways—The Water-rat
beaten by Land-rats—Avery dies in abject Poverty—A Pirate
Settlement on Madagascar—Roberts the Daring—Sails among a
Portuguese Fleet, and selects the best Vessel for his Prey—His
Brutal Destruction of Property—His End—Misson and
Caraccioli—Communistic Pirates—Their Captures—High Morality and
Robbery combined—Their Fates.

As we have seen, the seventeenth century presented innumerable examples of
piracy on a grand scale. The eighteenth presents no examples of formidable
organisations; on the contrary, each pirate, as a rule, worked for
himself, and relied on the unaided strength of himself and crew. An
example is afforded by Avery. Captain Avery’s brief career was,
piratically considered, brilliant enough. In 1715 we find him mate of a
vessel starting from Bristol, and designed for a privateer. The commander,
Captain Gibson, was a convivial sailor, fond of his bottle, and in port
was usually found ashore. On the evening on which the event about to be
described took place, he was on board, but having taken his usual dose or
doses of strong liquor, had retired to his berth. The crew not in the
secret were also below, leaving on deck only a few conspirators with whom
Avery had made a compact. At the time agreed some other conspirators came
off in a long-boat, and Avery hailed them, and was answered in the
following terms: “Is your drunken boatswain aboard?”—the watch-word
previously arranged. Avery replied in the affirmative, and the boat,
manned by sixteen stout fellows, came alongside, and in a few minutes the
hatches were secured, and the ship put to sea. There were several vessels
in port, and a Dutch skipper was offered a considerable reward to pursue
Avery, but he declined. When Captain Gibson awoke he rang his bell, and
Avery and one of the men going into the cabin, found him only half awake.
He inquired what was the matter with the ship: “Does she drive? What
weather is it?” He thought she was still in port. “No, no,” answered
Avery; “we are at sea.” “At sea!” said the captain. “How is that?” “Come,
come,” said Avery, “put on your clothes, and I’ll let you into a secret.
You must know that I am captain now, and this is my cabin; therefore you
must walk out!” He then explained his intentions of proceeding to
Madagascar on a piratical venture. The captain was terribly frightened,
but Avery reassured him by saying that he could either go ashore, or, if
he chose to make one of them, and keep sober, he might in time be raised
to the dignity of lieutenant. Gibson preferred the former alternative,
and, with four or five men of the same mind, was put on shore.

Avery sailed for Madagascar, where he was joined by two sloops, the
sailors on board which were themselves well inclined to his enterprise,
having just before run away with the vessels from the East Indies. They
sailed in company, and off the mouth of the Indus the man at the masthead
espied a sail, and they gave chase. She was evidently a fine tall vessel,
possibly an East Indiaman. She proved something better, for, when they
fired a shot at her, she hoisted Mogul colours, and appeared ready for a
fight. The sloops first attacked, with Avery for a support. The men of the
sloops attacked on either quarter, and boarded her; she immediately
afterwards struck her colours. She was one of the Great Mogul’s own ships,
having on board many distinguished persons of his own court, including one
of his daughters, going on a pilgrimage to the Holy City, Mecca. They were
carrying with them rich offerings to present at the shrine of Mahomet.
They were travelling in full Eastern magnificence, with retinues and
slaves, immense sums of money, jewellery, and plate. The spoil which they
obtained was immense, and after rifling the ship of everything valuable,
the pirates allowed her to depart. The news soon reached the Great Mogul,
and he was so enraged that he threatened to extirpate the English on the
Indian coast. The East India Company had enough to do to pacify him, and
only succeeded in doing so by promising to use every endeavour to punish
the pirates. Avery’s name and fame soon after reached Europe, and, as
might have been expected, all kinds of wild fables were circulated
concerning him.

[Illustration: AVERY CHASING THE GREAT MOGUL’S SHIP.]

On the voyage to Madagascar Avery proposed to the commanders of the sloops
that the treasures taken should be collectively stored on board his own
ship, as being by far the strongest and safest place, until an opportunity
should occur for a division on land. They acceded, and the treasure was
brought on board, and, with what he had, deposited in three great chests.
Avery having got it on his own ship, suggested to his men that they had
now on board sufficient to make them all happy, and he proposed that they
should immediately make for some country where they were not known, and
where they might live in plenty. They soon understood his hint, and
pressing on all sail, left the sloops’ crews to curse their perfidy. They
proceeded to America, and at the Island of Providence, then newly settled,
divided the spoils, and Avery pretending that his vessel had been an
unsuccessful privateer, sold her readily. He then purchased a sloop, in
which he and his companions sailed, and most of them landed on various
parts of the American coasts, and settled. They dispersed over that
country.

Avery, however, had carefully concealed the greater part of the jewels and
other valuable articles, so that his riches were considerable. Arriving at
Boston he was almost induced to settle there; but as the greater part of
his wealth consisted of diamonds, he feared that if he attempted to
dispose of them at that place he should certainly be arrested as a pirate.
He resolved, therefore, to sail for the north of Ireland, where he
dispersed his men, some of whom obtained the pardon of King William, and
eventually became peaceable Irish settlers.

He found, however, that it was as difficult to dispose of his diamonds in
Ireland, without rendering himself suspected, as in Boston. It, therefore,
occurred to him that Bristol might be a likely place to suit his purpose,
and he accordingly proceeded to Devonshire, having previously made
arrangements to meet one of his friends at Bideford. The so-called friend
introduced him to others, and the latter persuaded him that the safest
plan would be to place his effects in the hands of some wealthy merchants
who would make no inquiry as to how he came by them. One of these persons
informed him that he knew merchants who would not bother him with
inquiries, and Avery, falling easily into the trap, assented to this
proposal. Accordingly the merchants who had been named paid him a visit at
Bideford, where, after protestations of honour and integrity on their
part, he delivered his diamonds and gold to them. After giving him a
little money for his immediate support, they departed.

The old pirate changed his name, and lived quietly at Bideford, so that no
notice was taken of him. The first sum of money he had received from the
supposed merchants was soon spent, and for some time he heard nothing from
the latter, though he wrote to them repeatedly. At length they sent him a
small supply, but it was not sufficient to pay his debts. He therefore
resolved to go at once to Bristol and have a personal interview with the
merchants themselves. However, on arriving there he met with a mortifying
repulse; for when he desired them to account with him, they silenced him
by threatening to disclose his real character; thus proving themselves as
good land-rats as he had been a water-rat.

Avery went again to Ireland, and from thence solicited the merchants very
strongly, but to no purpose, so that he was reduced to utter beggary. Next
we find him on board a trading vessel working his passage over to
Plymouth, from whence he travelled on foot to Bideford. He had been there
but a few days when he fell sick, and died, “not being worth as much money
as would buy him a coffin.” Such was the end of a man who had, in his
brief career, astonished and alarmed not merely the Great Mogul of all the
Indies, and the great East India Company, but had become a hero of romance
in Europe.

And now to return to the unfortunate sloops. Their provisions were nearly
exhausted, and although fish and fowl were readily obtainable at
Madagascar, whither they returned, they had no salt to cure them for a
long voyage. They therefore made an encampment on the coast, where they
were joined by other piratical Englishmen who had selected the island as a
permanent place of settlement. When the pirates first settled there many
of the native princes were very friendly, and the former, having
fire-arms, which in those days the latter had not, often joined in the
inter-tribal wars, carrying terror wherever they went. Half a dozen
pirates with a small native army would put a much larger number of the
enemy to flight, and they were therefore great personages, and were almost
worshipped.

By these means they became in a little time very formidable, and such
prisoners as they took in war were employed in cultivating the ground, and
the most beautiful of the women they married; nor were they contented with
one wife, but often adopted the practice of polygamy. The natural result
was, that they separated, each of them choosing a convenient place for
himself, where he lived in princely style, surrounded by his family,
slaves, and dependents. Nor was it long before jarring interests excited
them to draw the sword against each other, and they appeared in the field
of battle, at the head of their respective clans as it were. In these
civil wars their number and strength were very soon greatly lessened.

These pirates, in the strange manner elevated to the dignity of petty
princes, and being destitute of honourable principles, used their power
with the most wanton barbarity. The most trifling offences were punished
with death; the victim was led to a tree, and instantly shot through the
head. The negroes at length, exasperated by continual oppression, formed
the determination to exterminate their masters in the course of a single
night; and this was not apparently a very difficult matter to accomplish,
so much were they divided. Fortunately, however, for them, a negro woman
who was partial to them ran twenty miles in three hours, and warning them
of their danger, they were united in arms to oppose the negroes before the
latter had assembled. This narrow escape made them more cautious. By
degrees the original stock of course died out, and when Captain Woods
Rodgers called there about thirty years after, there were only eleven of
them left, surrounded by a numerous progeny of half-breed children. The
circumstance will remind our readers of the descendants of the mutineers
of the _Bounty_ on Pitcairn Island.

A little later we find a remarkable pirate on the field of action. Captain
Bartholomew Roberts seems at first to have been really averse to the line
of life to which he afterwards took so kindly. When his commander, Captain
Davis, a pirate, died, the crew, in solemn conclave, selected Roberts. He
accepted the dignity, and told them that “since he had dipped his hands in
muddy water, and must be a pirate, it was better being a commander than a
private.” Very shortly afterwards he captured two vessels, the first Dutch
and the second English. The crew of the latter joined him, and emptied and
burned the vessel. On the Brazilian coast they were not successful, but
among the West Indian Islands they encountered a fleet of forty-two sail
of Portuguese ships, waiting for two men-of-war to convoy them. Roberts,
with his one little vessel, determined to have one or more of them, and he
sailed among the fleet, keeping the larger part of his men concealed. He
steered his ship almost alongside one of them, hailed her, and ordered her
master to come on board quietly, threatening to give no quarter if the
least resistance were made, or even if a signal of distress were
displayed. The Portuguese, perceiving a sudden flash of cutlasses on board
the pirate ship—a _coup de théâtre_ arranged by Roberts—submitted at once.
The newly-fledged pirate saluted the captain courteously, and told him
that he should go scot-free if he indicated which was the richest ship in
the fleet. He gladly pointed to a large vessel, and, although very much
superior in size and apparent strength to his own, made towards her,
carrying with him the poor Portuguese captain, for reasons which will at
once appear. Coming alongside, Roberts made his unwilling prisoner ask in
Portuguese how Seignior Capitano did, and to invite him on board, as he
had a matter of great importance to impart. He was answered in the
affirmative, but Roberts perceiving an unusual movement on board, and
expecting that they meant to give him a broadside, forestalled them by
pouring in a shower of shot, and then grappled, boarded, and took her. She
proved herself a rich prize, laden with tobacco, sugar, skins, and a
goodly number of golden moidores. Roberts was not long in securing the
better part of her cargo, and speedily sailed away.

After touching at various points, they sailed for Newfoundland, entering
the harbour of Trepassi with the black flags flying, and drums and
trumpets sounding. The original account says that there were twenty-two
“ships” lying there, but it probably means large fishing boats. The men
aboard abandoned them, and the pirates burnt or sunk them all, besides
doing enormous damage ashore. Roberts here took a small Bristol vessel,
which he fitted and manned for his own service. Shortly afterwards he
destroyed ten French “ships” (probably meaning, as before, large fishing
boats) on the banks of Newfoundland, and after that a number of prizes of
more value. At Martinique it had been the custom of Dutch traders, when
they approached the island, to hoist their jacks. Roberts knew the signal,
and imitated it, and the poor people believing that a profitable market
was at hand, vied with each other who should first row out to the ship. As
they one by one approached he fired into and sunk them, determined to do
them as much damage as possible. This was in retaliation; he had heard
that some cruisers had been sent out to punish him.

But the end of this brute was at hand. One morning, soon after leaving
Martinique, while he was at breakfast, he was informed that a man-of-war
was at hand. He took little notice, and his men were undetermined whether
she was a Portuguese ship or a French vessel. As she came nearer, she,
however, hoisted English colours, and proved to be the _Swallow_, a
man-of-war of no inconsiderable size. Roberts knew his danger, but
determined to get clear, or die in the attempt. A man on board, who was a
deserter from the _Swallow_, informed him that she sailed best upon the
wind, and that the pirate-ship should, therefore, go before it. The
resolution was made to pass close to the _Swallow_ under all sail, and to
receive her broadside before they returned a shot; if seriously injured,
to run on the shore to which they were close; or, should both fail, to
blow up together, and balk the enemy. The greater part of his men were at
this time drunk, for they had captured a quantity of liquor not long
before, and their brandy-courage was likely to prove of the Dutch order.
Roberts was determined to die game, and dressed himself in his best
uniform—a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, and a red feather in
his hat, a gold chain and diamond cross, two pairs of pistols in a silk
sling hung over his shoulders, and his sword in hand. In short, he was
just the typical kind of showy pirate of whom boys delight to read.

The _Swallow_ approached, and poured in her fire; Roberts hoisted the
black flag, and passed her with all sail. But for a fatal mistake he might
have got clear away; but either by bad steering, or in not keeping his
vessel before the wind, she again came up very near him. He was preparing
for action, when a grape-shot struck him directly in the throat, and he
fell back dead on the tackles of a gun. The man at the helm, one
Stephenson, not at first thinking he was wounded, swore at him, and
upbraided him as a coward; but, almost immediately afterwards, when he
found that his captain was indeed dead, burst into tears, and wished
himself dead. The pirate-ship almost immediately surrendered. His men
threw his body overboard, with all his finery and arms on, as he had
repeatedly ordered during his lifetime. Thus, at about forty years of age,
perished a brave and daring, though utterly reckless and unprincipled,
man, who, under better auspices, might have been of the greatest service
to his country.

[Illustration: DEATH OF “CAPTAIN” ROBERTS.]

One of the most remarkable pirates of the century was Captain Misson, who
commenced life in the French navy. When on leave at Rome he met one
Caraccioli, a priest, who had imbibed some peculiar religious and social
views, and who was afterwards, through his influence, admitted on board
the man-of-war on which he was then serving. Both on several occasions
showed a considerable amount of bravery. Caraccioli was a very ambitious
man, and freely aired his peculiar ideas before both his friend Misson and
the crew. His social views were of the communistic order; he believed that
every man had as much right to that which would properly support him as to
the air he breathed, and that wealth and poverty were both wrong, and that
the world needed remodelling. It will be understood that he considered
himself one of the men to do it, and was by no means strict in his regard
for the rightful property of others. In a word, he meant to reform as much
of the world as possible by means of piracy!

So far, however, both men were serving in the legitimate navy of France,
but an opportunity occurred of which they made the most. Off Martinique,
their vessel, the _Victoire_, encountered an English man-of-war, the
_Winchelsea_, and a smart engagement followed, during which the French
captain and his four principal officers were killed. The master
(presumably the navigating officer) would have struck, but Misson took up
the sword, ordering Caraccioli to act as lieutenant, and, encouraging his
men, fought for three hours, when the powder-magazine of the _Winchelsea_
exploded, and only one man, who died shortly afterwards, was saved for the
moment. After this unexpected termination, Caraccioli came to Misson,
saluting him as captain, and, in a very French manner, reminding him what
Mahomet and Darius had become from very small beginnings, showed him how
he might become sovereign of the Southern Seas, and enjoy a life of
liberty. Misson, who probably did not need a great deal of convincing,
agreed, and calling all hands together, told them that any who would not
follow his fortunes should be set ashore at places whence they might
easily return to France, but recommended them to adopt the freebooter’s
life. One and all cried, “Vive le Capitaine Misson et son Lieutenant le
savant Caraccioli,” and the _Victoire_ was at once transformed from a
vessel of the royal navy of France to a pirate-ship.

The crew selected their officers; and then came the question as to what
colours they should fight under. The boatswain advised black, as the most
terrifying. Caraccioli strenuously opposed this, saying that they were no
pirates, but men who were resolved to assert that liberty which nature had
given them, and own no subjection to any one, further than for the common
good of all; that they would wage war on the immensely rich, and defend
the wretched. In short, he defined his mission as a kind of piratical
knight-errantry. He was to be the Don Quixote of the ocean. He advised
that, as they did not proceed upon the same grounds with pirates, who were
men of dissolute lives and no principles, they should not adopt their
colours. “Ours,” said he, “is a brave, a just, an innocent, and a noble
cause—the cause of liberty.” He advised a white ensign, with the motto
“For God and liberty” inscribed upon it. The valuable property on board
was put under lock and key, for the general benefit. When the plate
belonging to the late captain was going to the chest, the men unanimously
voted it for Misson’s use. Misson then spoke to the assembled crew; and
the observations of this moral robber are worthy of note. He said that,
“since they had resolved unanimously to seize upon and defend their
liberty, which ambitious men had usurped, and that this could not be
esteemed by impartial judges other than a brave and just resolution, he
was under an obligation to recommend to them a brotherly love to each
other, the banishment of all private piques and grudges, and a strict
agreement and harmony among themselves; that in throwing off the yoke of
tyranny, of which the action spoke abhorrence, he hoped none would follow
the example of tyrants, and turn his back upon justice; for when equity
was trodden under foot, misery, confusion, and distrust naturally
followed. He also advised them to remember that there was a Supreme Being,
the adoration of whom reason and gratitude prompted us to, and our own
interest would engage us ... to conciliate; that he was satisfied that men
born and bred in slavery, by which their spirits were broken and made
incapable of so generous a way of thinking; who, ignorant of their
birthright, and the sweets of liberty, dance to the music of their
chains—which was, indeed, the greater part of the inhabitants of the
globe—would brand this generous crew with the invidious name of pirates,
and think it meritorious to be instrumental in their destruction.
Self-preservation, therefore, and not a cruel disposition, obliged him to
declare war against all such as should refuse the entry of their ports,
and against all who should not immediately surrender and give up what
their necessities required; but in a more particular manner against all
European ships and vessels as concluded implacable enemies. And I do now,”
said he, “declare such war, and at the same time recommend to you, my
comrades, a humane and generous disposition towards your prisoners, which
will appear by so much more the effects of a noble soul, as we are
satisfied we should not meet the same treatment should our ill-fortune, or
more properly our disunion, or want of courage, give us up to their
mercy.”

And strangest of all to tell, the pirate kept very closely to his creed.
If he took a small vessel, he would often let it go, after taking from the
crew their ammunition, or some comparatively trifling matters; he was
generous with his prisoners, and always spared life, except in open
fighting. Compared with some of the pirates whose lives have been recorded
in these pages he was an angel of light. Perhaps nothing will better
exemplify this than his conduct after taking a large Dutch ship, the
_Nieuwstadt_, which had on board seventeen slaves and some gold-dust. He
ordered them to be clothed, and told his men that trading in those of our
own species could never be right. He ordered them to be divided among the
messes, that they might sooner learn the French language. The Dutch
prisoners soon developed their latent tendencies for hard swearing and
drinking; and Misson found that his own men were becoming demoralised. He
addressed them all on board, and gave them a most serious lecture on the
sin of swearing.

Vessel after vessel was taken by him, the commanders of which were
generally patted on the back by Misson for their gallant defence, and
always treated with courteous hospitality. His greatest prize, among
dozens of others, was a Portuguese vessel of fifty guns. The vessels were
locked together. His crew found that instead of having it all their own
way, they were vigorously attacked. Expecting no quarter, they contended
fiercely, cleared the decks, and a number followed the Portuguese on board
their own ship. Misson seeing this called out, “_Elle est à nous; à
l’abordage!_” and a crowd of his men boarded. He engaged the captain,
struck him so that he fell down the main-hatch, and the Portuguese almost
immediately struck. Misson lost fifty-six men, and netted nearly £200,000
for himself and crew.(7)

CHAPTER VII.

THE PIRATES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Mary Read, the Female Pirate—As Male Servant, Soldier, and
Sailor—Her Bravery and Modesty—The Pirate Vane—No Honour among
Thieves—Delivered to Justice—The brief Career of Captain
Worley—The Biter Bit—A more than usually Brutal Pirate—Captain
Low’s Life of Villainy—His Wonderful Successes—An unfortunate
Black Burned to Death—Torture of a Portuguese Captain—Of Two
Portuguese Friars—The Results of Sympathy—Low’s Cupidity Defeated
by a Portuguese—Eleven Thousand Moidores dropped out of a Cabin
Window—An Unpunished Fiend.

One of the most remarkable pirates of the century under review was,
strange as it may appear, a female! Mary Read acted first as a male page,
then volunteered as a sailor, was afterwards a cadet in a Flanders
regiment, and eventually returned to the sea to become a pirate. Her first
impersonation of a boy was undertaken at her mother’s command. The latter
had been twice married, and a son born of the first husband had died. When
the poor woman was in great destitution she thought of that husband’s
mother, who was in easy circumstances, and passed off her second child
Mary as a boy, thereby obtaining some pecuniary assistance. In the army
Mary Read is said to have behaved with great bravery, and when she retired
she married a young Fleming who had been a comrade in the field. They set
up a restaurant, or tavern, and for a time flourished in their business,
but the husband dying suddenly, and peace being concluded, she was obliged
to seek some other employment, and after a short lapse of time we find her
a sailor on a vessel bound to the West Indies. This ship was captured by
English pirates, and Mary was found to be the only English person on
board, so they detained her, letting the rest go, after they had stripped
the vessel of all they wanted. This was her first introduction to such
company, and it is said that in after life she stated that it was
compulsion and necessity which led her to follow the career of a pirate,
and not any desire on her part. But some of her actions looked as though
she had taken rather kindly to that unlawful profession.

[Illustration: THE FEMALE PIRATES. (_From an Old Print._)]

When the royal pardon was granted to all pirates in the West Indies who
should abandon their mode of life before a given date, the crew with whom
Mary was serving availed themselves of it, and for some little time
afterwards we find Mary working on a privateer. The crew on this vessel
soon after mutinied, and turned her into a pirate ship, on which Mary is
said to have behaved with almost ferocious bravery. When the vessel was at
last captured, she, with another female pirate, named Anne Bonney, and one
male, were the last three on deck, the others having fled below. Mary on
this occasion is said to have fired a pistol among the cowardly sailors,
killing one and wounding another. It is just to her to say that in her
intercourse with others she was modest to the last degree, and her sex was
undiscovered by the sailors. In fact, the before-named Anne Bonney,
thinking Mary Read was a handsome young man, fell violently in love with
her, and the latter was obliged to disclose her sex. She was a strong,
robust woman, and although the course of life she had undertaken made her
practically a criminal of the worst description—a robber and a
murderer—she had, if all accounts are true, many very good qualities.
Captain Rackam, another pirate, not knowing at the time her sex, asked her
one day why she—or, as he thought, he—had chosen a life so dangerous, and
one which exposed her to the risk of being hanged at any time. She
answered that as to the hanging she thought it no very great hardship,
“for were it not for that every cowardly fellow would turn pirate, and so
infest the seas, while men of courage might starve; that if it were put to
her choice she would not have the punishment less than death, the fear of
which kept some dastardly rogues honest; that many of those who are now
cheating the widows and orphans, and oppressing their poor neighbours who
have no money to obtain justice, would then rob at sea, and the ocean
would be as crowded with rogues as the land.” Curious argument! Mary Read
came near tasting the quality of hanging when at last she was captured,
but an illness, fortunately for herself, intervened, and she died a
natural death. Woman’s mission in life rarely takes her to sea as a
practical sailor.

A prominent pirate of the seventeenth century was Captain Charles Vane,
the details of whose career would, however, read much like some already
given in the lives of earlier freebooters. One incident at the end of his
life is presented, to show how much distrust often existed among the
pirates themselves. Vane was at last wrecked on a small uninhabited island
near the Bay of Honduras; his vessel was completely lost and most of his
men drowned. He resided there some weeks, being reduced to great straits.

While Vane was upon this island a ship put in there from Jamaica for
water, the captain of which, one Holford, an old pirate, happened to be an
acquaintance of Vane’s. He thought this a good opportunity to get off, and
accordingly applied to his friend; but Holford absolutely refused him,
saying to him, “Charles, I can’t trust you on board my ship unless I carry
you as a prisoner, for I shall have you caballing with my men, knocking me
on the head, and running away with my ship pirating.” Vane made all the
protestations of honour in the world to him; but it seems Captain Holford
was too intimately acquainted with him to place any confidence in his
words or oaths. He told him he might easily get off if he had a mind to
it. “I am going down the bay,” said he, “and shall return hither in about
a month; and if I find you upon the island when I come back, I will carry
you to Jamaica and there hang you!” “How can I get away?” answered Vane.
“Are there not fishermen’s dories upon the beach? Can’t you take one of
them?” replied Holford. “What!” replied Vane; “would you have me steal a
dory, then?” “Do you make it a matter of conscience?” replied Holford, “to
steal a dory, when you have been a common robber and pirate, stealing
ships and cargoes, and plundering all mankind that fell in your way? Stay
here if you are so squeamish;” and he left him to consider the matter.

After Captain Holford’s departure another ship put into the small island,
on her way home, for some water. None of the company knowing Vane, he
easily passed his examination, and so was shipped for the voyage. One
would be apt to think that Vane was now pretty safe, and likely to escape
the fate which his crimes had merited; but here a cross accident happened
which ruined all. Holford, returning from the bay, was met by this ship,
and the captains being very well acquainted with each other, Holford was
invited to dine aboard, which he did. As he passed along to the cabin he
chanced to cast his eye down in the hold, and there saw Charles Vane at
work. He immediately spoke to the captain, saying, “Do you know whom you
have aboard there?” “Why,” said he, “I shipped the man the other day at an
island where he had been cast away, and he seems to be a brisk hand.” “I
tell you,” replied Captain Holford, “it is Vane, the notorious pirate.”
“If it be he,” replied the other, “I won’t keep him.” “Why, then,” said
Holford, “I’ll send and take him aboard, and surrender him at Jamaica.”
This being settled, Captain Holford, as soon as he returned to his ship,
sent his mate, armed, to Vane, who had his pistol ready cocked, and told
him he was his prisoner. No man daring to make opposition, he was brought
aboard and put into irons; and when Captain Holford arrived at Jamaica he
delivered up his old acquaintance to justice, at which place he was tried,
convicted, and executed, as was, some time before, Vane’s companion,
Robert Deal, who was brought thither by one of the men-of-war. “It is
clear,” says the original narrator, “from this how little ancient
friendship will avail a great villain when he is deprived of the power
that had before supported and rendered him formidable.”

Another pirate of the same period was Captain Worley, who commenced
business by leaving New York, in September, 1718, in a small open boat,
with eight men, six muskets, a few pounds of biscuit and dried tongues,
and a keg of water. He took first a shallop laden with household goods and
plate, and later three sloops. He was becoming formidable enough to cause
uneasiness to the authorities, who despatched two armed sloops after him.
Worley saw them off the coast of Virginia, and believing that they were
two vessels bound for the James River, hastened to get into its mouth
first. Meantime the inhabitants of James Town, supposing that all three
were pirates, made every preparation ashore to defend themselves. Their
surprise must have been great indeed when they saw the pirates were
fighting among themselves. Worley had waited in the entrance of the river,
with the black colours flying, when he discovered that the approaching
vessels hoisted English colours, and that he was entrapped. The pirate and
his men fought bravely, and when the action was over Worley and only one
man out of twenty-five survived. As they would probably have died of their
wounds in a short time they were brought ashore in irons, and hanged
almost immediately. Worley’s career as a pirate had lasted less than five
months.

Yet another example. Captain Edward Low had, as a boy, shown peculiarly
brutal qualities. He had bullied, and in low games had cheated, every one
he could, so that it was not surprising that when grown to man’s estate he
developed into a successful but specially obnoxious villain. After sundry
vicissitudes he had entered among the company of a ship bound to Honduras
for logwood, and when arrived there was employed in bringing it on shore
in command of a party of twelve armed men. One day the boat came alongside
the ship just a little before dinner-time, and Low desired that they
should remain for the meal, while the captain wanted them to make one more
trip, and offered them a bottle of rum. Low and some of the men became
enraged, and the former took a loaded musket and fired at the captain,
missing him, but injuring another man. They then ran away with the boat,
and only next day took a small vessel, on which they hoisted the black
flag.

Fortune now constantly favoured him, and he was joined by many others. At
the Azores he captured a French ship of thirty-four guns, taking her with
his own two vessels. Entering St. Michael’s roadstead, he captured seven
sail without firing a gun. He then sent ashore to the governor for water
and provisions, promising to release the vessels if his demands were
conceded, and burn them if they were not. The request was instantly
granted, and six of the vessels were returned. But a French vessel being
among them, they took away all her guns and men, except the cook, whom
they said, “being a greasy fellow, would fry well.” The brutes then bound
the unfortunate wretch to the mast, and set fire to the ship.

“The next who fell in their way was Captain Garren, in the _Wright_
galley, who, because he showed some inclination to defend himself, was cut
and mangled in a barbarous manner. There were also two Portuguese friars,
whom they tied to the foremast, and several times let them down before
they were dead, merely to gratify their ferocious dispositions. Meanwhile,
another Portuguese beholding this cruel scene expressed some sorrow in his
countenance, upon which one of the wretches said he did not like his
looks, and so giving him a stroke across the body with his cutlass he fell
upon the spot. Another of the miscreants aiming a blow at a prisoner
missed his aim, and struck Low upon the under jaw. The surgeon was called,
and stitched up the wound; but Low finding fault with the operation, the
surgeon gave him a blow which broke all the stitches, and left him to sew
them himself. After he had plundered this vessel some of them were for
burning her, as they had done the Frenchman; but instead of that, they cut
her cables, rigging, and sails to pieces, and set her adrift to the mercy
of the waves.”

On another occasion he had taken a fine Portuguese vessel, but could not
find the treasure, and he accordingly tortured some of the men to make
them inform him. He was told that during the chase the captain had hung a
sack containing eleven thousand moidores out of the cabin window, and that
when they were taken he had cut the rope, and let it drop to the bottom of
the sea. One can imagine Low’s rage. He ordered the unfortunate captain’s
lips to be cut off and broiled before his eyes. He then murdered him and
the whole crew in cold blood. The narrative of Low’s career is one
continuous succession of such stories; nor can the writer discover that he
met with punishment in this world.

CHAPTER VIII.

PAUL JONES AND DE SOTO.

Paul Jones, the Privateer—A Story of his Boyhood—He joins the
American Revolutionists—Attempt to Burn the Town and Shipping of
Whitehaven—Foiled—His Appearance at St. Mary’s—Capture of Lady
Selkirk’s Family Plate—A Letter from Jones—Return of the Plate
several years after—A Press-gang Impressed—Engagement with the
_Ranger_—A Privateer Squadron—The Fight off Scarborough—Brave
Captains Pearson and Piercy—Victory for the Privateers—Jones dies
in abject Poverty—A Nineteenth Century Freebooter—Benito de
Soto—Mutiny on a Slave Ship—The Commander left ashore and the Mate
Murdered—Encounters the _Morning Star_—A Ship without a Gun—Terror
of the Passengers—Order to spare no Lives—A terrified Steward—De
Soto’s commands only partially observed, and the Ship saved—At
Cadiz—Failure of the Pirate’s Plans—Captured, Tried, and Hanged at
Gibraltar.

A celebrated character now appears on the scene; and the writer must avow
that Paul Jones has hardly been treated fairly in many works of fiction(8)
and so-called history. He was not a pirate in the true sense of the word,
although very generally regarded as such, but was a privateer, employed by
colonies rebelling against the mother country.

John Paul—for such was his real name—was born on the estate of Lord
Selkirk, near Kirkcudbright, Scotland, in 1728, his father being head
gardener. Young Paul worked with his father for some length of time, and
there is a story recorded of the elder Paul which showed him to possess a
good sense of humour. In the gardens were two summer-houses, exactly alike
in build and size. One day Lord Selkirk, while strolling about the walks,
observed a young man locked up in one of the summer-houses and looking out
of the window. In the other house young Paul appeared, looking out of the
corresponding window. His lordship inquired why the lads were confined, to
which the gardener replied, “My lord, I caught the rascal stealing your
lordship’s fruit.” “But,” said the nobleman, “there are two of them. What
has your son done? is he also guilty?” “Oh no, please your lordship,” old
Paul coolly replied, “I just put him in for the sake of symmetry!” But it
appears that afterwards young Paul got himself in serious trouble, and
deserved to have been locked up in some stronger place than a
summer-house, and on other grounds than symmetry, and after some specially
knavish trick he was dismissed from his employment, and almost immediately
took to a seafaring life. He speedily rose to be mate, and soon after
master.

In 1777, when the rupture broke out between America and Great Britain, he
was in New England, and he immediately enlisted among the revolutionists,
who appointed him commander of the _Ranger_ privateer, mounting eighteen
guns and several swivels, and manned with a picked crew of 150 hardy men.

In the course of the following winter he put to sea, and made two
captures, which were sold in a French port, and in 1778 made an attempt to
burn and destroy the town and shipping of Whitehaven. Having got near the
land, he kept cautiously in the offing, but at midnight, having proceeded
nearer, he despatched his boats with thirty daring sailors. A little
battery at the entrance of the harbour was easily taken, and the small
garrison made prisoners before they could raise an alarm, and the guns
spiked. The vessels inside were laying close together at low water, and as
no enemy was expected there were no watches kept. The privateers deposited
combustibles, trains of powder, and matches, ready primed, on the decks
and about the rigging, and all was ready for the signal to be given, when
a commotion and loud knocking was heard in the main street, and crowds
came running to the piers, attracted by the lights which were being
hastily thrown on the ships by the enemy. The attacking party could only
just manage to get away and back to the ship, when, on the muster being
called, one man was missing. He it was who, either from hopes of great
reward, or, let us hope, from some purer motive of humanity, had started
the alarm, and saved both town and shipping, for only one vessel was
seriously scorched.

[Illustration: PAUL JONES AND LADY SELKIRK.]

Paul Jones therefore left Whitehaven: the expedition had been a most
complete failure. He next made for the harbour of Kirkcudbright, at the
entrance of the river Dee—on which that “jolly miller” once lived of whom
we sing. A little distance from the sea the Dee expands into an estuary,
in which is the island of St. Mary, the very place on which Lord Selkirk’s
castle and estate stood. Early in the morning the privateer, with her guns
and generally warlike appearance, had been observed, but her character was
not known. Few vessels of size ever entered the river, and in this case
she was supposed to be an English man-of-war, possibly bent on
“impressing” men for the navy, and as the male population there, as
elsewhere, objected strongly to being torn away from their families and
employments, a number of them hid themselves, as did, indeed, Lady
Selkirk’s men-servants, who obtained temporary leave of absence. A boat
from the privateer landed a number of men immediately, who strolled about
leisurely, without having apparently any special object in view, and later
returned to the ship. The alarm of those who watched their movements from
a distance had hardly subsided when the boat, with a strong body of armed
men, again put in for shore.

“They did not now stroll about as before, but forming in regular order,
marched directly to the castle; and then, for the first time, a suspicion
of the real character of such unexpected and unwelcome guests was excited.
Lady Selkirk and her children were then the only members of the family
resident in the castle. Her ladyship had just finished breakfast when she
received a summons, but under considerable apprehensions of danger, which
were not abated upon a nearer approach to inspection of the party, whose
ferocious appearance and ragged dress too plainly betokened their hostile
purpose; and, as it now appeared plunder was their chief object, the worst
might be expected should any resistance be offered. The diversity of arms
with which the party were equipped further confirmed the bad opinion
entertained of the marauders. These consisted of muskets, pistols, swords,
&c., and one fellow bore an American tomahawk over his shoulder. There
were two officers in command of the party: the one rude in language and
rough in his manner; the other, on the contrary, was not only courteous
and respectful, but even apologised to her ladyship, regretting the
unpleasant duty in which it was unfortunately his lot to appear as the
principal.

“The first inquiry was for the appearance of Lord Selkirk; and on being
assured that he was not in that part of the country they expressed
considerable disappointment. After a short pause, the officer who had
treated her ladyship with the most respect said he must request the
production of all the plate which was in her possession. She answered that
the plate which was in the castle was small in quantity, but, such as it
was, they should have it.

“Accordingly the whole was laid before them—even the silver teapot which
was used at breakfast, and which had not been since washed out. The
officer on receiving it ordered his men to pack it all, again respectfully
apologising for his conduct on this occasion, which he called a dirty
business, and then taking his leave of her ladyship, he retired with his
party, and returned to his ship, leaving the family not a little pleased
at their escape from a worse fate, which they apprehended. Still, however,
as the ship did not immediately get under weigh, her ladyship,
entertaining fears of a second visit, lost no time in sending off her
children, and removing to a place of security whatever property was likely
to induce them to pay her another visit.” In a few hours she was gratified
by seeing the privateer getting under weigh, and proceeding to sea without
offering any further violence. Lady Selkirk received, a few days after, a
letter from Jones, written in a romantic and almost poetical style, in
which he entreated her ladyship’s pardon for the late affront, assuring
her that, so far from having been suggested or sanctioned by him, he had
exerted his influence in order to prevent its taking place; but his
officers and crew had insisted on the enterprise, in the hope of getting
possession of the person of Lord Selkirk, for whose ransom they
anticipated a considerable sum might be realised. This, Jones declared,
was the object of their first visit, in which having failed, they began to
murmur on their return on board, and insisted on their landing again and
plundering the castle; he was therefore reluctantly obliged to give his
assent. He added that he would endeavour to buy the plunder they had so
disgracefully brought away, and transmit the whole, or such as he could
obtain, to her ladyship.

“Several years elapsed without hearing anything from Jones, and all hope
of realisation of his promises had vanished; but in the spring of the year
1783, to the great and agreeable surprise of her ladyship, the whole of
the plate was returned, carriage paid, precisely in the same condition in
which it had been taken away, and to every appearance without having ever
been unpacked, the tea-leaves remaining in the silver teapot, as they were
left after breakfast on the morning of the plunderers’ visit to the
castle.” It is hardly to be doubted that Jones was sincere in this matter,
and that the real state of the case was that he had spoken before the
others of Lord Selkirk’s estate and his early experiences, until they had
become inflamed with a desire to plunder the castle, and, if possible,
secure the person of that nobleman, with the hope of obtaining a large
ransom. This, at first sight the most piratical act of Paul’s life, really
shows him to advantage, and that he had some humanity left for his early
associates. Lord Selkirk himself received the news in London, with a few
additions, to the effect that his castle had been burned to the ground and
his family taken prisoners. Those were not the days of special
correspondents and telegraphy. About half-way on his journey he, however,
obtained a more correct version of the affair.

Jones now made for the Irish coast, where in the Belfast Loch he burned or
captured several fishing-boats. A sloop-of-war, the _Drake_, under the
command of Captain Burden, was lying there. The commander thought that the
_Ranger_ was a merchantman, and sent off a boat’s crew to impress some of
her men for the navy. Jones allowed them to come on board, and then
impressed _them_! He did not, however, wish to risk an engagement just
then, and therefore put about and crowded on all sail. Captain Burden,
finding that his boat did not return, at last suspected something wrong,
gave chase, and, coming up with the privateer, opened a sharp fire. The
night was so dark that the firing could not be continued with any prospect
of success. Next morning the engagement was renewed, and at the end of
over an hour’s gallant fighting on both sides—by which time Captain
Burden, his first lieutenant, and some of the crew, being killed, and more
disabled, and the ship much damaged—the _Drake_ surrendered to the
_Ranger_. Jones took his prize into Brest—and communicated his success to
Dr. Franklin,(9) then the American diplomatic agent in Paris.

In the following winter we find Jones in command of a frigate, the _Bonne
Homme Richard_, of forty guns, with a complement of 370 men, having under
him another frigate, the _Alliance_, of nearly equal size, a brig, and a
cutter, all acting in the service of the American Congress. A French
frigate, the _Pallas_, also formed one of the squadron. Some of his first
essays were failures. Landing a boat’s crew on the coast of Kerry to take
some sheep, the farmers and people defended their property bravely, and
the aggressors were sent to Tralee gaol. So, when he conceived the bold
idea of burning the shipping in Leith harbour, a gale blew his ship to
sea. It is said that laying off Kirkaldy, Jones sent a summons to the
townspeople to make up a ransom, or he would fire the town. A number of
the inhabitants had collected on the beach, among whom was a venerable
minister, who offered up a prayer to the Almighty, and exhorted the people
to courage and trustfulness. Soon after the wind increased to the gale
above-mentioned, and the privateer had to be let go before the wind. Not
long previous to this, however, Jones had captured several prizes, all of
which were sent to French ports.

But off Scarborough Jones and his squadron fell in with a British convoy
of merchantmen from the Baltic, under escort of H.M.S. _Serapis_
(forty-four guns), in the command of Captain Pearson, and the _Countess of
Scarborough_ (twenty guns), Captain Piercy. The result was a brilliant
engagement, in which the British captains behaved most gallantly, although
the privateer force was in excess of their own. Captain Pearson, while a
prisoner on the _Pallas_, communicated a full account to the Lords of the
Admiralty, of which the following narrative contains some verbatim
extracts:—

On the 23rd September, 1799, the privateer squadron and the two English
ships were in sight of each other. Captain Pearson’s first anxiety was to
get between the merchant-ships he was convoying and the privateers, which
he successfully accomplished. Shortly after the action commenced the
muzzles of the guns of the _Serapis_ and _Alliance_ actually touched each
other. “In this position,” wrote Captain Pearson, “we engaged from
half-past eight till half-past ten, during which time, from the great
quantity and variety of combustible matter which they threw upon our
decks, cabins, and, in short, into every part of the ship, we were on fire
no less than ten or twelve times in different parts of the ship, and it
was with the greatest difficulty and exertion imaginable, at times, that
we were able to get it extinguished. At the same time the largest of the
two frigates kept sailing round us during the whole action, and raking us
fore and aft, by which means she killed or wounded almost every man on the
quarter and main decks. At half-past nine, either from a hand-grenade
being thrown in at one of our lower deck ports or from some other
accident, a cartridge of powder was set on fire, the flames of which,
running from cartridge to cartridge all the way aft, blew up the whole of
the officers and crew that were quartered abaft the mainmast; from which
unfortunate circumstance all those guns were rendered useless for the
remainder of the action.

“At ten o’clock they called for quarter from the ship alongside, and said
they had struck. Hearing this, I called upon the captain to say if they
had struck, or if he asked for quarter, but receiving no answer after
repeating my words two or three times, I called for the boarders, and
ordered them to board, which they did; but the moment they were on board
her they discovered a superior number lying under cover, with pikes in
their hands, ready to receive them, on which our people retreated
instantly into our own ship, and returned to their guns again until
half-past ten, when the frigate coming across our stern, and pouring her
broadside into us again without our being able to bring a gun to bear on
her, I found it in vain, and in short impracticable, from the situation we
were in, to stand out any longer with any prospect of success. I therefore
struck; our mainmast at the same time went by the board.

[Illustration: PAUL JONES.]

“The first lieutenant and myself were immediately escorted into the ship
alongside, when we found her to be an American ship-of-war, called the
_Bonne Homme Richard_, of forty guns and 375 men, commanded by Captain
Paul Jones; the other frigate which engaged us to be the _Alliance_, of
forty guns and 300 men; and the third frigate, which engaged and took the
_Countess of Scarborough_ after two hours’ action, to be the _Pallas_, a
French frigate, of thirty guns and 274 men; the _Vengeance_, an armed brig
of twelve guns and seventy men: all in Congress service, under the command
of Paul Jones. They fitted and sailed from Port l’Orient the latter end of
July, and then came north. They have on board 300 English prisoners, which
they have taken in different vessels in their way round since they left
France, and have ransomed some others. On my going on board the _Bonne
Homme Richard_ I found her in the greatest distress, her quarters and
counter on the lower deck being entirely drove in, and the whole of her
lower deck guns dismounted; she was also on fire in two places, and six or
seven feet of water in her hold, which kept increasing upon them all night
and next day, till they were obliged to quit her. She had 300 men killed
and wounded in the action. Our loss in the _Serapis_ was also very great.”
Captain Pearson concludes with a proper tribute to the bravery of Captain
Piercy, who with his small frigate had engaged the _Pallas_, a much larger
vessel, and to the men in general. The honour of knighthood was afterwards
conferred on Captain Pearson, while Piercy and the officers were suitably
promoted. The Royal Exchange Insurance Company presented both captains
with services of plate. It need not be said that Paul Jones was for the
nonce a much-appreciated man in America.

His subsequent career does not possess much interest for the general
reader. He was, in 1786, employed in diplomatic service, and he crossed
the Atlantic with despatches for London in the then remarkable time of
twenty-two days, and, having performed his duty, he remained a few hours
only, and then immediately started on the return voyage. American
go-a-headedness was fast developing at that early period. When peace was
concluded he entered into the service of Russia for a short period, after
which he was in Paris at the period of the Revolution. Here he sought, but
failed in obtaining, employment in the French navy; and he soon became a
man as dejected and downcast as he had once been buoyant and resolute. He
died in abject poverty; and he would hardly have been decently interred
but for the sympathy of a friend, who succeeded in raising a small
subscription for the purpose.

The full history of piracy would occupy a small library of volumes, and
would possess many elements of sameness in its full narration. In the
present volume only leading examples can be given, for space would fail us
to record the crimes committed by Algerian, Spanish, Indian, Chinese, and
other pirates, many of them in times not long gone by. But the example of
unbridled brutality and villany about to be presented could not be omitted
in any fair account of the subject. Sad to say, it occurred in this
present century of general enlightenment. The career of the infamous
Benito de Soto is the subject of the following pages.(10)

Benito de Soto was a Portuguese sailor, and up to the year 1827 appears to
have followed the ordinary avocations of his profession. In the above year
a slaver was being fitted out for a voyage to the coast of Africa. In the
horrible traffic in which the vessel was engaged a strong crew was
required, and, among a considerable number of sailors, De Soto was
engaged. It was the intention of the captain to run to a part of the
African coast not usually visited, where he hoped to obtain them cheaper
than elsewhere, or perhaps get them by force. His crew consisted
principally of French, Spanish, and Portuguese renegades, who made no
objection to sail with him on his evil voyage.

The captain of the slave-ship arrived at his destination, and obtained a
considerable number of natives, who were closely battened down in the
hold. One day he went ashore to make arrangements for completing his
cargo, when the mate, who was a bold, reckless, and thoroughly
unprincipled man, and who had perceived in Benito de Soto a kindred
spirit, proposed to the latter a design he had long contemplated for
running away with the vessel and becoming a pirate. De Soto at once agreed
to join in the mutiny, and declared that he had himself been contemplating
a similar enterprise. The pair of rogues shook hands, and lost no time in
maturing the plot. A large part of the crew joined in the conspiracy, but
a number held out faithfully to the captain, and the mate was despairing
of success, when De Soto took the matter in hand, thoroughly armed the
conspirators, declared the mate captain, and told the others, “There is
the African coast: this is our ship; one or other must be chosen by every
man on board within five minutes.” The well-disposed would not, however,
join the mutinous, and they were immediately hustled into a boat, and left
to the mercy of the waves with one pair of oars. Had the weather continued
calm the boat would have made the shore by dusk; but unhappily a strong
gale of wind set in shortly after her departure, and she was seen by De
Soto and his gang struggling with the billows and approaching night at a
considerable distance from the land. All on board agreed in opinion that
the boat could not live, as they flew away from her at the rate of ten
knots an hour, under close-reefed topsails, leaving their unhappy
messmates to their inevitable fate. Those of the pirates who were
afterwards executed at Cadiz declared that every soul in the boat
perished. A drunken revel reigned on board that night. The mate soon
proved a tyrant; and De Soto, who had only waited for the opportunity,
shot him while in a drunken sleep, and constituted himself commander. The
slaves were taken to the West Indies, and a good price obtained for them;
one, a boy, De Soto reserved for himself. That boy lived to be a witness
against him, and before he left Cadiz saw the full penalty of the law
executed on his brutal master.

The pirates now commenced their villanous designs in good earnest, and
plundered a number of vessels. Amongst others they took an American brig,
and having secured all the valuables on board, hatched down all hands in
the hold except one poor black man—probably the cook—who was allowed to
remain on deck for the special purpose of affording by his tortures the
horrible amusement De Soto and his fellow fiends desired. The heart
sickens at the remainder of the story. They set fire to the brig, and then
lay to at a short distance to observe the progress of the flames, knowing
that a number of their fellow-creatures were being roasted to death in the
hold. The poor African ran from rope to rope, now clinging to the shrouds,
even climbing up to the mast-head, till he fell exhausted in the flames,
and the tragedy was over.

Exploit after exploit, marked by heartless butchery, followed, and
culminated in the event which led to their overthrow. It was an evil day
when they met, off the Island of Ascension, the _Morning Star_, a vessel
then on her voyage from Ceylon to England, having on board a valuable
cargo and a number of passengers, civilian and military, the latter
principally invalided soldiers. There were also several ladies on board.
De Soto at first took her for a French ship, but when he was assured that
she was English he said with glee, “So much the better, we shall find the
more booty,” and ordered the sails squared for the chase.

His vessel, the _Defensor de Pedro_, was a fast sailer, but for some time
could not gain much on the _Morning Star_, and De Soto broke out in almost
ungovernable fits of rage. When his poor little cabin-boy came to ask him
whether he would have his morning cup of chocolate, he received a violent
blow from a telescope as his reward. While the crew were clearing the
decks for action he walked up and down with gloomy brow and folded arms,
maturing his plan of attack; and woe to the man who interrupted his
meditations! But when he found that he was gaining on his intended victim
he became calm enough to eat his breakfast, and then sat down to smoke a
cigar.

And now they had gained sufficiently on the other ship to enable De Soto
to fire a charge of blank cartridge for the purpose of bringing her to.
This, however, had no effect, although he hoisted British colours; and he
then shouted out, “Shoot the long gun, and give it her point-blank!” The
shot was fired, but fell short of its aim, and the gunner was cursed as a
bungler. He then ordered them to load with canister-shot, and, waiting
till he was abreast of the vessel, discharged the gun himself with fatal
accuracy, while one of his men ran down the falsely-displayed British
colours, and De Soto then himself hauled up the Columbian colours, and
cried out through the speaking-trumpet for the captain to come on board.

[Illustration: DE SOTO CHASING THE “MORNING STAR.”]

One can imagine the alarm on the _Morning Star_ among the helpless
passengers, when they found that their captain had neither guns nor small
arms. Although there were twenty-five soldiers on board and a commanding
officer, they were all cripples or feeble invalids. The captain was, as
will afterwards appear, a brave and true officer, but by a general
council, hurriedly held, he was advised to allow one of the passengers to
volunteer for the service of going on board the pirate ship. It may be
imagined how he was received. When they found that he was not the captain,
they beat him, as well as the sailors with him, in a brutal manner, and
then sent him back with the message that if the captain did not instantly
come on board they would blow the ship out of the water. This, of course,
decided the captain, and he immediately put off in a boat, with his second
mate, three sailors, and a boy, and was rowed to the pirate ship. On going
on board, De Soto, who stood near the mainmast, cutlass in hand, desired
the captain to approach, while the mate was ordered to go forward. Both of
these unfortunate individuals obeyed, and were instantly massacred.

A number of the pirates—picked men—were ordered to descend into the boat,
Barbazan, De Soto’s right hand in villainy, accompanying them. To him the
leader gave his orders to spare no lives, and sink the ship. The pirates
were all armed alike, each carrying a brace of pistols, a cutlass, and a
long knife. Their dress consisted of coarse chequered cotton, and red
woollen caps. They were all athletic men, and evidently suited for their
sanguinary work. A man stood by the long gun with a lighted match, ready
to support the boarding, if necessary, with a shot that would sweep the
deck. The terror of the poor females and most of the rest on the _Morning
Star_ may well be imagined; nor could the fears of the former be allayed
by the vain hopes which some expressed that the pirates would simply
plunder the vessel and then leave them. Vain hopes indeed, for the pirates
commenced cutting right and left immediately they boarded. The villains
were soon masters of the decks. “Beaten, bleeding, terrified, the men lay
huddled together in the hold, while the pirates proceeded in their work of
pillage and brutality. Every trunk was hauled forth; every portable
article of value heaped for the plunder: money, plate, charts, nautical
instruments, and seven parcels of valuable jewels, which formed part of
the cargo; these were carried from below on the backs of those men whom
the pirates selected to assist them, and for two hours they were thus
employed, during which time De Soto stood on his own deck watching the
operations, for the vessels were within a hundred yards of each other.”
The scene in the cabin was one of unbridled license; the passengers were
stripped of their clothes, while the females were locked up together in
the round-house on deck.

The steward was detained, to serve the pirates with wine and eatables, and
their labours being now concluded, they held high revel, preparatory to
carrying out the diabolical orders of their leader. A more terrible group
of ruffians, the poor steward afterwards declared, could not well be
imagined. In one instance his life was in great jeopardy, when one of the
pirates demanded to know where the captain had kept his money. He might as
well have asked him to perform a miracle; but pleading the truth was of no
use, and a pistol was snapped at his breast, which, fortunately, missed
fire. He re-cocked, and presented it, when the weapon was struck aside by
Barbazan, who possibly thought that the services of the steward might yet
be required. The females were afterwards ordered into the cabin, and
treated with great brutality.

Whether Barbazan had any spark of humanity left in his bosom, or whether
it was a forgetfulness of the orders given to him by De Soto, caused by
the wine he had taken, is not known, but after a series of outrages, he
contented himself by ordering his men to fasten the women in the cabin,
heap lumber on the hatches of the hold, and bore holes in the ship below
the water-line. This may seem strange mercy, but it left some chance, if
by any possibility any of those on board could get free and stop the
leaks. His orders, it will be remembered, had been to put all to death, as
well as sink the ship.

Whatever Barbazan’s motives may have been, his course of action saved the
ship, for the women contrived to force their way out of the cabin, and
release the men in the hold. When they came on deck they anxiously peered
out into the darkness, and had the satisfaction of seeing the pirate-ship,
with all sails set, bearing away in the far distance. Their delight was,
however, somewhat checked when they found that the vessel had six feet of
water in her; but at length work at the pumps told, and the vessel was
kept afloat. Yet they were still in a helpless condition, for the pirates
had sawn away the masts and cut the rigging. Fortunately, however, they
fell in with a vessel next day: their troubles were over, and they were
brought in safety to England.

To return to De Soto. It was only next morning that he learned that the
crew and passengers had been left alive. This excited his utmost rage, and
he declared that now there could be no security for their lives. He
determined to put back, but providentially he could find no trace of the
vessel, and at last he consoled himself with the belief that she had gone
to the bottom. He then set sail for Europe, and on his voyage met a brig,
boarded, plundered, and sank her, having first murdered the crew, with the
exception of one individual, whom he took with him as a pilot, as he
professed to know the course to Corunna. As soon as he had come within
sight of that port, De Soto came up to the unfortunate sailor, and said,
“You have done your duty well, and I am obliged to you for your services.”
He then immediately shot him dead, and flung his body overboard! Polite
and humane De Soto!

[Illustration: CADIZ.]

At Corunna he obtained papers under a false name, sold most of his
ill-gotten spoils, and set sail for Cadiz, where he expected to easily
dispose of the remainder. The winds were favourable and the voyage good
till he was actually in sight of the famed old Spanish port, off which he
arrived in the evening. He therefore determined to lay to, intending to
reach his anchorage in the morning, when the wind shifted, culminating in
a gale, which blew right on land. He exerted all his seamanship to weather
a point that stretched outwards, but his lee-way carried him towards the
land, and the vessel became an utter wreck. Soto soon arranged a plan.
They were to pass themselves off as honest men to the authorities of
Cadiz; Soto was to take upon himself the office of mate to an imaginary
captain, and thus obtain their sanction in disposing of the vessel. In
their assumed character the whole proceeded to Cadiz, and presented
themselves before the proper officers of the marine. Their story was
listened to with sympathy, and for a few days everything went on to their
satisfaction. Soto had succeeded so well as to conclude the sale of the
wreck with a broker for the sum of one thousand seven hundred and fifty
dollars. The contract was signed, but, fortunately, the money was not yet
paid, when suspicion arose, from some inconsistencies in the pirates’
account of themselves, and six of them were arrested by the authorities.
De Soto and one of the crew instantly disappeared from Cadiz, and
succeeded in arriving at the neutral ground before Gibraltar, and six more
made their escape to Caracas.

De Soto’s companion wisely kept to the neutral ground at Gibraltar, while
he foolishly ventured into the city, his object being to obtain money for
a letter of credit he had obtained at Cadiz. The former man was the only
one of the whole gang who escaped punishment.

De Soto secured his admission into Gibraltar by a false pass, and took up
his residence at a low tavern in one of the narrow lanes in which the
place abounds. “The appearance of this house,” says the writer of the
interesting letter from which this account is derived, “was in grim
harmony with the worthy Benito’s life. I have occasion to pass the door
frequently at night, for our barrack, the casement, is but a few yards
from it. I never look out at the place without feeling an involuntary
sensation of horror....

“In this den the villain remained for a few weeks, and during this time he
seemed to enjoy himself as if he had never committed a murder. The story
he told Bosso of the circumstances was that he came to Gibraltar on his
way from Cadiz to Malaga, and was merely awaiting the arrival of a friend.

“He dressed expensively, generally wore a white hat of the best English
quality, silk stockings, white trousers, and blue frock coat. His whiskers
were large and bushy, and his hair was black, profuse, long, and curled.
He was deeply browned with the sun, and had an air and gait expressive of
his bold, enterprising, and desperate mind. Indeed, when I saw him in his
cell and at his trial, although his frame was attenuated almost to a
skeleton, the colour of his face a pale yellow, his eyes sunken, and his
hair closely shorn, he still exhibited strong traces of what he had been,
still retained his erect and fearless carriage, his quick, fiery, and
malevolent eye, his hurried and concise speech, and his close and
pertinent style of remark.” After he had been confronted in court with a
dirk that had belonged to one of his victims, a trunk and clothes taken
from another, and the pocket-book containing the handwriting of the
_Morning Star’s_ ill-fated captain, and which were proved to have been
found in his room; and when the maid-servant had proved that she found the
dirk under his pillow, and again when he was confronted by his own black
slave boy between two wax lights, the countenance of the villain appeared
in its true nature, not depressed or sorrowful, but diabolically
ferocious; and when Sir George Don passed the just sentence of the law
upon him his face was a study of concentrated venom.

The wretched man persisted up to the day of his execution in asserting his
innocence; but the certainty of his doom seemed to make some impression on
him, and he at last made an unreserved confession of his crimes, giving up
to the keeper a razor-blade which he had secreted in his shoes for the
avowed purpose of committing suicide. The narrator of his life seems to
have believed that he was really penitent.

On the day of his execution he walked firmly at the tail of the fatal
cart, gazing alternately at the crucifix he held in his hand and at his
coffin, and repeated the prayers spoken in his ears by the attendant
clergyman with apparent devotion. The gallows was erected fronting the
neutral ground, and he mounted the cart as firmly as he had walked,
holding up his face to heaven in the beating rain, apparently calm and
resigned. Finding the halter too high for his neck, he boldly stepped upon
his coffin and placed his head in the noose, bidding adieu to all around
him. Thus died Benito de Soto, the pirate of the nineteenth century, whose
crimes had hardly been exceeded by the freebooters of any previous period.

CHAPTER IX.

OUR ARCTIC EXPEDITIONS.

The Latest Arctic Expedition—Scene at Portsmouth—Departure of the
_Alert_ and _Discovery_—Few Expeditions really ever pointed to the
Pole—What we know of the Regions—Admitted and unadmitted
Records—Dutch Yarns—A Claimant at the Pole—Life with the
Esquimaux—A Solitary Journey—Northmen Colony—The Adventurer kindly
treated—Their King—Sun-worshippers—Believers in an Arctic Hell—The
Mastodon not extinct—Domesticated Walruses—The whole story a
nonsensical _Canard_.

On the afternoon of May 29th, 1875, the old town of Portsmouth presented
in an unusual degree that gala aspect which it can so readily assume at
short notice. It is true that it was the official anniversary of Her
Majesty’s birthday, and a military review had been announced; but granting
full credit to the loyalty of Hants, there was still something to be
explained, for visitors had crowded into the town by tens and tens of
thousands, and the jetties, piers, and shores presented the aspect of a
popular holiday, so lined were they with well-dressed and evidently
expectant masses of people. The shipping in the harbour and out to
Spithead displayed the flags of the whole signalling code, while from the
flag-posts of every public, and hundreds of private, buildings, the
coastguard stations, forts, and piers, depended a perfect wealth of
bunting. What was the cause of this enthusiasm?

In the dockyard a quieter scene explained the reason. Two vessels, of no
great size, and which at any other time would not have attracted special
attention, were lying, with full steam up and bows pointed to the stream,
ready for immediate departure. They bore the names of the _Alert_ and
_Discovery_, and were about to start on a prolonged Arctic voyage. On the
jetty the relatives and friends of some 120 officers and blue-jackets were
assembled to bid the last farewell, the last God-speed to men about to
encounter many known and unknown dangers in a field of action where peril
is the daily concomitant of existence. We can well believe that the fate
of Franklin and his gallant band—in numbers almost literally identical
with the two ships’ companies about to depart—_would_ recur to the minds
of some, and that many a mother prayed that night, and later—

“O Heaven, my child in mercy spare!
O God, where’er he be;
O God, my God, in pity spare
My boy to-night at sea!”

We shall not attempt to depict a scene familiar to all who have voyaged or
who know much of seaport life, although this was a special case.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN NARES CONDUCTING H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES OVER
THE _ALERT_ AT PORTSMOUTH.]

“A sailor’s life must be
Spent away on the far, far sea,
And little of him his wife may see,”

Sings Dr. Bennett; and the partings were not confined to mother or wife,
but were shared by many a father, brother, sister, and sweetheart, who
were nevertheless proud of the service in which their sailor-boy was to be
engaged. Still prouder were they as, at four o’clock, the vessels steamed
out of the harbour; “such cheers upon cheers rent the air” as, said our
leading journal, “were never before heard in Portsmouth,” while “an
unbroken mass of waving hats and fluttering handkerchiefs” extended on the
jetties, piers, and shore away to and beyond the breakwater. The ships of
war and the training ship _St. Vincent_ presented a sight not soon to be
forgotten, covered as they were by living masses from bulwarks to sky-sail
yards of actual and embryo comrades in the service, delighting to honour
these adventurous men, departing for unknown seas and for an unknown
period of time. If there were any of those croakers present who tell us
that the service has gone to the dogs, and that the “true British sailor”
is no more, they must have been silenced; while the enthusiasm of those
who had come from far and near to witness the departure of the expedition
was but one more example of that special interest always displayed by
England in all matters pertaining to geographical discovery. The same love
of adventure, and the spirit to do and dare, which characterise our
voyagers and travellers, permeates very largely the masses of those who
stay at home, for they are Britons still.

[Illustration: SIR GEORGE NARES.]

The expedition, under the command of Captain Nares, the departure of which
we have briefly described, was, as we all know, distinctly organised for
the exploration of the polar region, and with the hope of reaching the
North Pole itself. One point in this connection is often overlooked,
thereby leading to grave mistake, and it may fairly be considered before
entering upon the narration of this Arctic voyage. There are those among
us who, being “nothing if not practical,” aver that too many voyages have
been instigated for the discovery of the North Pole, which is to them a
worthless aim. The answer to such croakers is direct. Of the hundreds of
expeditions, British and foreign, despatched to the Arctic regions, very
few indeed have been organised for that discovery, or even for the
exploration of the polar region proper. Those instituted with that special
object, as will be hereafter shown, scarcely exceed a dozen in number.
Strange as it may seem, commerce was for a long period almost the only
motive for Arctic exploration. The larger part of the earlier attempts at
north-west and north-east passages were instigated with the distinct
object of reaching the Orient—China, India, and the Spice Islands—for
commercial purposes, by what seems now-a-days a most roundabout if not
utterly ridiculous manner, but which at the time appeared quite
comprehensible and defensible. The rich productions of the countries named
in those days reached us overland; and not till the very close of the
fifteenth century, when Vasco di Gama doubled the Cape of Good Hope, was a
comparatively easy sea-route found to Eastern Asia. The opening of
extensive fisheries, the fur-trade, reported mineral discoveries, and, in
a limited degree, colonisation, have been among the main causes in bygone
days of hundreds of Arctic voyages, the organisers whereof cared nothing
for the North Pole. The many Arctic expeditions of the present century
have been mainly instituted for geographical discovery and scientific
research; and, as we all know, a number of them would not have had their
being but for the sad tragedy which involved the search for Franklin and
his ill-starred companions. Now-a-days, indeed, as the writer has
elsewhere said,(11) “we have no need for an icy route to Cathaia; we have
no expectation of commercial advantage from the exploration of the North
Pole.” The solution of a most important geographical problem was the aim
of Captain Nares’ expedition, as it was that of _several_, but _not_, as
will be proved, that of _many_ previous ones. If it ever is to be done,
England should do it.

[Illustration: DEPARTURE OF THE “ALERT” AND “DISCOVERY” FROM PORTSMOUTH.]

It will be interesting, and somewhat important, to note briefly, before
entering on the consideration of the great Arctic voyages, just how much
and how little we know about the polar region proper. The undiscovered
region covers an area of scarcely less than a million and a half square
miles; while between explored points on either side it is in certain
directions as much as 1,500 miles across. Parry, in 1827, reached by a
mixed boat and sledge journey as high a latitude as 82° 45’ N., while
Captain Hall, the American, succeeded in _taking his vessel_, in 1871, as
high as 82° 16’ N. in Smith’s Sound. As we shall hereafter see, both these
exploits have now been beaten by the expedition under Captain (now Sir
George S.) Nares. In general terms, we may say that the vast tract between
70° and 80° of north latitude has been pretty thoroughly explored on the
European and American sides of the polar region, while much less is known
of the same latitudes on the Asiatic side. How much of the in-lying region
is land, or how far covered with water, has yet to be determined. In spite
of the very positive utterances of many explorers and scientists, all we
really know is that there _is_ much open water, or at all events
ice-covered water, and that it _may_ extend to the Pole. No weight
whatever can be attached to the once popular “open polar sea” theory,
which rested principally on the statements of those who had, after
reaching given points, been unable to see anything but open water before
them. How would that wiseacre be esteemed, who, looking seaward from
different parts of our coast, saw nought but ocean, and thereon
immediately built a theory that no land existed in the direction of his
gaze? America must be swept from _his_ map entirely, while even
Continental Europe would have a poor chance—except on a fine day, and even
then from but a few points of our south coast.

Whilst the claims of Parry, Hall, and Nares, as the three explorers who
have approached nearer the Pole than any others, must be admitted by all
authorities, we may note _en passant_ that other and stronger claims have
been put forth in days gone by. The Hon. Daines Barrington, somewhat of an
authority in his day, read before the Royal Society, late in the last
century, a series of papers devoted to polar subjects,(12) in which he
records the cases of whalers and others who were said to have almost
reached the North Pole. He cites with some substantiatory evidence the
case of a Dutch ship-of-war, superintending the Greenland fisheries, which
had reached the latitude of 88° N., or within 120 miles of the Pole. He
gives the case of an English captain—one Johnson, or Monson (Buffon
records the same case)—who had also reached 88° N. He further offers us
the “Relation of Two Dutch Masters” to one Captain Goulden, who asserted
that they had reached 89°, and caps the climax with a “Dutch relation” to
a Mr. Grey, in which the Hollander claims to have been within half a
degree (thirty geographical miles) of the Pole. These claims were
seriously discussed at the time, and were not put forward by an ignorant
or careless writer. Nevertheless, no credit is given to them by present
Arctic authorities, although they would seem to deserve some little
examination and attention.

One other claim to the discovery of a continent immediately surrounding
the North Pole remains to be considered, albeit not seriously. It has been
very naturally ignored here, but was calmly discussed some years since in
America, where it was first published. The present writer presents it in a
condensed form simply as a novelty; it is only too evidently a sailor’s
“yarn,” invented by some one familiar with Arctic works, or possibly with
the Arctic regions themselves. But as it will serve to enliven our
narrative at this juncture, the reader will pardon its introduction.

The editor of the following narrative commences by stating that a log,
squared and much water-soaked, was found floating in Hudson’s Bay in the
year 1866 by an American sailor. On examination, a small piece of wood was
discovered to be morticed in its side, and this being picked out, a
manuscript, written on skin sewn together with sinews, was found enclosed
in a seal-skin cover. The story inscribed on it was in substance as
follows. The writer begins by stating that he has discovered a new
continent at the Pole. Being desirous of leaving England, he had shipped
before the mast on the _Erebus_, under the command of Sir John Franklin.
He had done so under an assumed name, his true name being William North.
Describing briefly the events preceding Franklin’s death, he goes on to
say that they abandoned the ships in April, 1848, Captain Crozier hoping
to reach Hudson’s Bay (Territory is meant, presumably), their provisions
being exhausted. All but himself perished, and he lay on the snow
insensible till rescued by some Esquimaux, with whom he lived for several
years. From observations he became convinced there was a habitable land
further north. The birds and animals often came in large numbers from that
direction, and then suddenly returned. The Indians all had a superstitious
fear of going far north, and none who did so were ever seen again. It was
supposed that they perished of cold and starvation; but more than one old
Esquimaux told him that they were killed by the inhabitants beyond the
mountains.

[Illustration: CAPE DESOLATION.]

“As I could never get back to England,” says he, “even if I had desired, I
concluded to push to the north, and reach the North Pole or perish in the
attempt.” No one would go with him, so he went alone, taking two dogs and
a boat which he had rigged on runners. The Indians said that he would
never return.

[Illustration: MAP OF THE NORTH POLAR REGIONS.]

“This was on the Greenland shore, as far north as the ice mountains, known
to navigators as the glaciers. [‘Ice rivers’ would be the more appropriate
term; but the story is evidently written by a half-educated man.] It was
the early spring of 1860, according to my reckoning; the season was the
most favourable I had ever seen, and in two months I must have travelled
fully six hundred miles, myself and the dogs living on game and seals
killed by the way.

“My theory was that I should suddenly emerge into a warm and fertile
country as soon as I should reach the point at which, according to all the
books, the earth was flattened, and on which the sun in summer never sets.
It seemed to me that if the sun should remain for six months above the
horizon, without any nights, the effect would be to give a very warm
climate. I had a good silver watch, of which I had always taken the
greatest care, and I kept a record of every day, so that I should not lose
my reckoning. I will not dwell on the perils and privations of my journey,
except to say that with streaming eyes I had killed my faithful dogs to
save me from starvation, when on the 20th of June, 1860, according to my
calendar, I passed out of a crevice or gorge between two great walls of
ice, just in time to escape death from a falling mass larger than a ship,
into an open space of table-land, from which I could see below me, and
stretching away as far as the eye could reach, a land more beautiful than
England or any other country I had ever seen.”

The narrator says that his feelings becoming calmer after the surprise he
had experienced, he descended the mountain, at the foot of which was a
village, where the people were celebrating a festival or carnival.
Overcome by the heat and excitement, he fainted, and some time afterwards
found himself closely guarded in the house of some priests, where,
however, he was kindly treated. The curious things which he had in his
possession convinced them that their prisoner was worth keeping alive. He
explained their use by signs, in which they were greatly interested. The
watch pleased them the most, and they easily understood the division of
time. When he drew a figure of the earth, with the parallels of latitude
and longitude, pointing out the positions of the various countries,
including their own, they were greatly astonished, and treated him with
increased kindness.

He was taken before their chief—the Jarl—who lives in a stone palace,
built as solidly as the pyramids. “Glass is unknown, and curtains or
draperies take its place in the windows. Oil-lamps are used, except in the
palaces of the nobility and in public places, where an electric light,
much brighter than gas, is substituted.” Precious stones, gold, and
silver, abound. “The Jarl drives out with four large moose, or mastodon,
attached to his chariot, which are harnessed in pairs, the inside horns of
each being cut so that they will not interlock. His pleasure barge is
drawn by walruses.” Barges and boats were commonly drawn by domesticated
seals and walruses. Their arts and productions are described in detail,
and are about the same as those of Northern Europe a thousand years ago.
The people are numerous, and live in peace and happiness. The sun is their
great spirit; shut in by eternal snow and ice, although their own climate
is not very severe, they naturally look upon cold as the essence of all
that is evil, and ice as its embodiment. When the genial rays of the sun
disperse the ice and snow they worship and rejoice. And carrying out the
same idea, the infernal regions are stated to be cold, not hot. We all
remember the worthy divine in the north of Scotland, who knowing that he
could not terrify his shivering congregation by depicting the terrors of
fire, painted in its place an Arctic Hell. So Dante, in “The Divine
Comedy,” makes the frozen Lake of Cocytus a place where the traitors to
kindred and country endure a new torment. So again Shakespeare, in the
well-known soliloquy—

“Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
This sensible warm motion to become
A kneaded clod; and the de-lighted(13) spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbèd ice.”

The narrator goes on to say that it is usual to make ice idols or ice
demons for their carnivals; and ice palaces like those often constructed
in Russia are also common in winter. He further says that Greenland
extends to the Pole and far beyond it, and ends his narrative by stating
that at the date on which he writes—May 22nd, 1861—he had been eleven
months on the polar continent, and had no desire to leave it.

So much for a _canard_, amusing at least from the mock earnestness of the
writer. But that a detached colony of descendants from the Northmen
_might_ be found at some more distant point of Greenland with which we are
at present not familiar, is at least possible, and that the climate of the
Pole is comparatively temperate has been the belief of some authorities,
although, most assuredly, the intense cold experienced by the expedition
under Captain Nares at the high latitude attained will not bear out the
assertion.

[Illustration: THE ARCTIC YACHT _PANDORA_.]

CHAPTER X.

CRUISE OF THE “PANDORA.”

The Arctic Expedition of 1875-6—Its Advocates—The _Alert_ and
_Discovery_—Cruise of the _Pandora_—Curious Icebergs—The First
Bump with the Ice—Seal Meat as a Luxury—Ashore on a Floe—Coaling
at Ivigtut—The Kryolite Trade—Beauty of the Greenland Coast in
Summer—Festivities at Disco—The Belles of Greenland—A novel
Ball-room—The dreaded Melville Bay—Scene of Ruin at Northumberland
House—Devastation of the Bears—An Arctic Graveyard—Beset by the
Ice—An Interesting Discovery—Furthest Point attained—Return
Voyage—A Dreadful Night—The Phantom Cliff—Home again.

The Arctic expedition of 1875-6 has been the subject of very general
interest, and has led to much comment and some adverse criticism. With the
latter we have little or nothing to do. If a certain amount of
disappointment exists regarding the still undiscovered Pole, let the
reader remember that no Arctic expedition whatever has yet fulfilled all
the promises and hopes of its youth, and that our brave seamen _have_
taken our flag to a higher point than ever attained before. Britain is
again foremost, and the names of Nares and Markham stand worthily by the
side of Hall and Parry. The conditions under which they made their success
were, in some respects, of unparalleled difficulty and hardship.

The renewal of English enterprise in the direction of the Pole was not due
to sudden caprice, but was greatly stimulated by the generous rivalry of
other nations. Several members of the Royal Geographical Society,
prominent among whom were the late Admiral Sherard Osborne and Sir
Roderick I. Murchison, so long the president of the body, advocated it
with all their strength and might, while that noble-hearted lady, the late
Lady Franklin, took the deepest interest in its promotion.

Their representations had due effect on the Government; the necessary
votes were passed, and the expedition organised. The vessels employed were
probably as well adapted for Arctic navigation as any that have left our
shores for that purpose. The _Alert_ is a royal navy steam sloop of 751
tons and 100 horse-power, and was greatly strengthened for her intended
voyage. The commander of the expedition, Captain Nares, who had only just
been recalled from the memorable voyage of the _Challenger_, was a man of
considerable experience, and had been in Arctic service previously. With
him was associated Commander A. H. Markham, who had a considerable amount
of previous Arctic experience. The second vessel of the expedition, the
_Discovery_, had been a Dundee steam whaler, was purchased by the
Government, and put under the command of Captain H. F. Stephenson. The
total complement of officers and crews on the two vessels consisted of 120
men, the very pick of the navy and whaling marine, many of whom had served
in polar seas before. A store ship, the _Valorous_, accompanied them to
Greenland, and returned safely in time to enable Mr. Clements R. Markham,
a relative of Captain Markham’s, who had made a trip on her, to lay before
the British Association meeting at Bristol, on August 31st, the earliest
news from the expedition. On the voyage to Disco they had encountered
heavy weather; but on arrival there it was considered that it would prove
a favourable season for Arctic exploration. The _Valorous_, having
transferred the stores, &c., intended for the use of the Arctic ships, had
parted company on July 16th, leaving the expedition in good health and
excellent spirits.

[Illustration: THE ARCTIC STORE SHIP _VALOROUS_.]

For the present let us leave them to pursue their researches in the polar
regions while we speak of the expedition which followed close in their
wake, and, indeed, was partly intended to be the means of a last
communication with them. We refer to the interesting voyage of the
_Pandora_, which brought home very late news from them, and which,
considering the brief time in which it was made, deserves to be chronicled
as a most successful “dash” into the Arctic regions.

The _Pandora_ was bought from the Navy Department by Captain Allen Young,
and specially fitted out by him for Arctic navigation. This was no small
matter. Although built for a gunboat, she had to be considerably
strengthened. Heavy iron beams and knees were put in amidships, to
increase her resisting powers to a squeeze or “nip” in the ice; her hull
was enveloped in an outer casing of American elm four and a half inches
thick, to strengthen her sides; her bows were encased in solid iron. These
changes, while injuring her sailing qualities somewhat, enabled her to
work her way among ice, where an ordinary ship would be crushed like an
egg-shell. She was a small barque-rigged vessel, of 438 tons register,
with steam-power which could on emergencies be worked up to 200
horse-power. The crew and officers numbered thirty men, all told. She was
provisioned for eighteen months.

“The promoters of our expedition,” says Mr. J. A. MacGahan, who
accompanied it as correspondent of the _New York Herald_, and has since
collected his notes in a most interesting book,(14) “were Captain Allen
Young, on whom fell the principal burden and expense; Mr. James Gordon
Bennett, whom I had the honour to represent; Lieutenant Innes Lillingston,
R.N., who went as second in command; and the late Lady Franklin. She had
insisted on contributing to the expenses of the expedition, almost against
Captain Young’s wishes, who felt by no means confident of doing anything
that would entitle him to accept her willing contribution.” It will be
remembered that Captain Young had been navigating officer with the
memorable McClintock expedition in 1857-9, and that during that time he
had made many perilous sledge-journeys. A representative of the Dutch
royal navy, Lieutenant Beynen, accompanied them, and was sent out by his
Government to report on the expedition, and gain experience in Arctic
navigation. Probably, at some future time Holland may resume the thread of
Arctic exploration where it was dropped by Barentz, the old Dutch
navigator, 300 years ago.

On the morning of the 28th of July they arrived in sight of Cape Farewell,
and were surrounded on all sides by a field of floating ice. The horizon
was white with it, while near the ships great pieces, of every imaginable
shape and size, went drifting by in dangerous proximity. There were old
castles with broken ruined towers, battlements, and loopholes; castellated
fortresses; cathedrals with fantastic Gothic carving, and delicate
tracery, and triumphal arches. The narrator says that the animal and
vegetable kingdoms were represented by huge mushrooms with broad drooping
tops, supported on a single slender stem, and great masses of ice-foliage
that crowned groups of beautifully-carved columns, like immense
bread-fruit trees, covered with ice. There were swans with long slender
necks gracefully poised in the water; there were dragons, lions, eagles;
in short, almost every fantastic form that could be imagined, sparkling
and gleaming in the bright morning sun. In the path of the vessel great
flat pieces, or floes, presented themselves, and grew closer and thicker
together, with but very narrow channels of water between them. At last
they came to a place where there was no passage at all, unless they went
two or three miles out of their route.

Toms, the old gunner, who was out with Captain Young in the _Fox_, was on
the bridge conducting the vessel’s course, and instead of going around
they drove straight at the floe. What had been taken by some on board for
a solid field of ice was in reality two large floes joined together at one
spot, and thus forming a narrow isthmus only a few feet wide. It was this
isthmus that old Toms was going to charge. The wind in the course of the
morning had sprung up from the east, and they had it, consequently, on the
starboard quarter. The _Pandora_ was coming smoothly along under reefed
topsails, at the rate of about five knots. In a moment her prow plunged
into the ice with the force of a battering-ram. There was a loud crash;
the ship quivered and shook; the masts, with the sails pulling at them,
bent and creaked; the ice rolled up before her in great blocks, that fell
splashing in the water, and the _Pandora_ stopped quite still for the
moment, completely jammed. But it was for a moment only. Her sharp iron
prow had quite demolished the neck of ice, and it only remained to squeeze
herself between the floes into clear water beyond. She wriggled through
like an eel, and then shot gaily forward, as though eager for another
encounter.

“That was rather a hard bump, Toms, wasn’t it?” said somebody.

“Oh, bless you! that’s nothing,” replied the old sea-dog, with a smile.
“We’ll have harder ones nor that before we gets through the north-west
passage.” And so they did, as the narrative abundantly shows.

The seals, with their round smooth heads just barely above the surface,
are described as looking like plum-puddings floating in the water. As they
had been living on salt provisions for twenty days, a great longing for
fresh meat came over them. Seal’s liver with bacon is said to form an
excellent dish. On one occasion they had nearly killed a seal, when a man
was sent after it to finish the business. His weight, when he arrived on
the floe, broke the ice, and both fell in together. The seal was lost, but
happily the sailor was rescued. Later they were more successful. The
officers took to the seal-flesh most kindly, but the sailors were by far
too dainty to feed on such unusual food. It is a curious fact that men on
Arctic expeditions will often refuse to touch seal or walrus meat, as well
as preserved or tinned beef and mutton. The result is the scurvy, which
often enough proves fatal.

Captain Young, on the way up to Ivigtut, a little Danish settlement on the
west coast of Greenland, brought his vessel alongside a large floe on
which five seals were observed, apparently asleep. Thirty gun-barrels were
soon levelled on the hapless animals, which lay quite still as the ship
came up, apparently unconscious of their danger. As about two hundred
rounds were fired, and yet three of the seals got away, their bravado was
partially excusable. One of those killed was perfectly riddled with shot.
This animal takes a great deal of killing unless hit exactly in the brain.
Soon the ship was moored to the floe, and the officers and men were out to
secure their game. On this floating island of ice they found a little lake
of water, and having been on short allowance for some days, they hailed it
with delight. They took a long drink first of all, then a run over the
island and a good roll in the snow, as pleased as schoolboys out for a
holiday. After this the ship was watered, amid a great amount of fun and
frolic, everybody being so glad to stretch their legs. At Ivigtut the
officers went on shore to visit the few Danes of the colony while the
vessel was being coaled, and an amusing account is given of the
hospitality extended to them. The chronicler mentions very particularly an
insinuating drink called “banko,” which was ordinarily mingled with layers
of sherry, and sometimes claret and sherry. It had a mild, pleasant taste,
quite disproportionate to the powerful effects it produced. The governor
had entertained the officers of the _Tigress_ when she came here in search
of the crew of the _Polaris_, Captain Hall’s vessel, and they had also
drunk banko punch till some of them had been observed to stir it up with
their cigars for tea-spoons, and then to express astonishment at the
cigars appearing damp! It is at this settlement that the kryolite mines
are worked by a Danish company. The mineral is used for a variety of
purposes, but principally for making soda, and in the United States for
preparing aluminium. McClintock’s little steam yacht, the _Fox_, so
celebrated in Arctic history in connection with the Franklin search, is
now in the employ of this Company.

The Greenland coasts at this season are described as beautiful in the
extreme, a broken, serrated line of high, rugged mountains rising abruptly
out of the water to a height of 3,000 feet. Over these the sun and
atmosphere combine to produce the most fantastic effects of colour, while
ever and anon glimpses of that mighty sea of ice which has overwhelmed
Greenland are to be caught. Captain Young, in his progress up the coasts
was met by several kyacks—skin canoes—whose occupants had travelled, or
rather voyaged, fifteen miles at sea merely to barter their fish for
tobacco, biscuit, or coffee. “Imagine a man getting into a canoe and
paddling across the English Channel from Dover to Boulogne or Calais in
order to sell half-a-dozen trout!” They were thoroughly drenched with the
water dashing over them, but had very little in the kyacks, so closely
does the skin jacket they wear fit the round hole in the top of the canoe.
They were rewarded with a glass of rum, and sold about fifty-five pounds
of delicious fish for half a pound of tobacco and a couple of dozen small
sea biscuits.

[Illustration: DISCO.]

At Disco they were again warmly welcomed by the Danes; and if MacGahan has
not been carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment, the young ladies
must indeed be something delightful. He avers that their small hands and
feet would make an English or American girl die with envy, and that they
dance like sylphs. Of one he says, gushingly, “It was a pure delight to
watch her little feet flitting over the ground like butterflies, or
humming-birds, or rosebuds, or anything else that is delicate and sweet
and delightful. It was not dancing at all: it was flying; it was floating
through the air on a wave of rhythm, without even so much as touching
ground.” What more could be said after this? He states, however, that they
were all very well behaved. They allowed the men not even a kiss or a
squeeze of the hand, and knew as well how to maintain their dignity and
keep people at a proper distance as any other young ladies. They are all
good Christians and church-going people, belonging, as do all the
Esquimaux of Greenland, to some form of the Lutheran faith, to which they
have been converted by the mild and beneficent influence of the kindly
Danes.

[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE MUSIC HALL, DISCO.]

The ball-room in which their first entertainment was given was rather
small for forty or fifty people to dance in, being only twelve feet by
fifteen. It was also, perhaps, a little dark, being lighted by only one
small window, for as it was broad daylight at ten o’clock in the evening
at that period it was not thought worth while to bring in candles. The
ceiling was barely six feet high, and in fact the festive hall was no
other than the workshop of Disco’s lonely carpenter, which had been
cleaned out for the occasion. Over its “dore” the inscription shown in the
above illustration was found, intimating that it would “opn” at 8 o’clock.

[Illustration: EXPLORERS CROSSING “HUMMOCKS.”]

At Upernavik, the last Danish station at which the _Pandora_ stopped, and
that only long enough to obtain some dogs, they learned that the English
expedition had sailed thence on the 22nd of July. In north latitude 74°
they had a glimpse of the grandest of Greenland’s glaciers, which is
described as a great inclined plane, seventy or eighty miles long,
extending back to the interior in one vast icy slope. Immense as was this
field of ice, they knew that it was nothing but a small corner of the
great, lone, silent, dreary world beyond. Now they entered the dreaded
Melville Bay, which is in some years never free from ice. It is often only
towards the end of August that ships can get through it. Here, in the
middle of that month, the little steam yacht _Fox_, of McClintock’s
memorable expedition, was caught in the ice, carried down Baffin’s Bay and
Davis Straits, only to be freed 242 days afterwards by a miracle. The fact
of a bear swimming in the sea betokened that ice was not far off, and so
it proved. It was not, however, at first very formidable, consisting only
of thin, loose floes, that offered little resistance to the sharp prow of
the _Pandora_. On the evening of the 19th of August they were at the Carey
Islands, where a bootless search was made for a cairn of stones believed
to have been erected by Captain Nares. They found, however, two cairns
erected by a whaler in 1867, in one of which he had left half a bottle of
rum, which, having undergone eight successive freezings, had become as
mild as fine old Rhine wine. It is needless to say that the whaling
captain’s health was drunk therewith and forthwith. Two barrels of letters
for the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were left there.

[Illustration: THE MONUMENT TO BELLOT.]

At Beechey Island, visited at different periods by (Sir John) Ross,
Belcher, and Franklin, they found the yacht _Mary_, left by the former in
1851, in good condition. Northumberland House, erected by Sir Edward
Belcher in 1854 as a depôt for stores, had evidently been broken into. The
ground outside was strewn with tins of preserved meats and vegetables,
forty-pound tins of pemmican, great rolls of heavy blue cloth, hundreds of
pairs of socks and mittens, bales of blankets and clothing, all scattered
over the ground in the most admired disorder. The ruin and destruction was
so great that the place resembled the scene of a disastrous railway
accident. Who were the marauders, these burglars that left their booty
behind them; these housebreakers that not merely broke into a house, but
spoiled nearly everything in it out of sheer wantonness? Evidently the
Polar bears. The marks of their claws were everywhere and on everything.
They had even gnawed into two or three barrels of salt beef, which they
had quite emptied, and it was their claws that had punched holes in the
heavy pemmican tins. Polar bears seem to be possessed of the very genius
of destruction. Near the house is the monument of Lieutenant Bellot, the
brave young French officer who lost his life when on the search for
Franklin. Here also is a marble slab, the tombstone of brave Sir John
himself. Both monuments were sent out in the _Fox_, at the expense of Lady
Franklin. Three miles farther up the bay the graves of five seamen, of the
crews of the _Erebus_, _Terror_, and _North Star_, were also found. “This
Arctic graveyard is situated on a gravelly slope, which rises up from the
little bay towards the foot of a high bluff, that frowns down upon it as
though resenting the intrusion of human dead in this lonely world. Sad
enough looked the poor head-boards as the low-sinking sun threw its yellow
rays athwart them, casting long shadows over the shingly slope; silent,
sad, and mournful as everything else in this dreary Arctic world.”

On the evening of August 27th they arrived at the entrance of Peel Strait,
where a heavy pack of ice was encountered, so dense that it was hopeless
to attempt a passage. A little later and it became evident that they were
hourly in danger of being beset, and, once beset, imprisoned for the
winter, and perhaps for more than one, without a harbour, with no
opportunity of accomplishing anything. Neither were they provisioned for a
length of time sufficient to run the risk of stopping in that
neighbourhood.

On the shores of North Somerset they made an interesting discovery. The
_Pandora_ had attained the furthest point reached by Ross and McClintock
when coming down the coast on foot from the north in 1849, at which time
they had built a cairn, and left a record addressed to Sir John Franklin,
stating that they had been despatched for his succour. Poor Franklin never
found it, but it was reserved for Captain Young to receive it twenty-eight
years later. Ross had at that time been within two hundred miles of the
spot where the wrecks of Franklin’s vessels had been abandoned.

The _Pandora_ at length succeeded in reaching La Roquette Island, and the
expedition had, therefore, in a very brief space of time, attained a
position only 120 miles from Franklin’s farthest point. Success had
crowned their efforts so far. All on board were sanguine that they would
ere long be basking in the warmth of a Californian autumn, and enjoying
the good things of San Francisco. It was fated otherwise. They found an
unbroken ice-field before them, extending for, so far as they could judge,
an indefinite distance. They cruised about the island for three days, but
matters only grew worse, and, indeed, the ice was moving slowly towards
them. Reluctantly Captain Young decided to give up his attempt at a
north-west passage, and return to England. On the way out of Peel Strait,
with squalls, snow, and darkness, they had a most difficult task in
handling the vessel, having to run races with the driving ice-packs so as
to avoid being shut in. The ice-pack at Cape Rennel prevented a passage
round it. Suddenly, a snowstorm which had been beating down upon them for
the whole night, abated, and disclosed high precipitous cliffs hanging
almost over them as it seemed, and “presenting,” says Captain Young in his
“Journal,” “a most ghostly appearance, the horizontal strata seeming like
the huge bars of some gigantic iron cage, and standing out from the snow
face. In fact, it was the skeleton of a cliff, and we appeared to be in
its very grasp. For a few minutes only we saw this apparition, and then
all was again darkness.” They barely had room to pass between this cliff
and the ice-pack, and then hastily ranged about, seeking some escape.
After three hours of intense anxiety, a slight movement in the pack was
reported from aloft, indicating a weak place in it, and through this gap
the vessel at length forced her way. On September 10th they passed through
a terrible gale; the heavy seas froze as they fell on the vessel’s sides,
and the _Pandora_ became “one huge icicle.” On reaching the Carey Islands
they found, at a different spot to that previously visited, a cairn,
erected by Captain Nares, from which they obtained a tin tube addressed to
the Admiralty. The _Pandora_ reached Portsmouth safely on October 16th,
1865, her cruise having been, all in all, one of the most successful of
any made in the Arctic seas in a period of time so short.

CHAPTER XI.

THE “ALERT” AND “DISCOVERY.”

Nares’ Expedition—Wonderful Passage through Baffin’s Bay—Winter
Quarters of the _Discovery_—Capital Game-bag—Continued Voyage of
the _Alert_—Highest Latitude ever attained by a Ship—“The Sea of
Ancient Ice”—Winter Quarters, Employments, and Amusements—The
Royal Arctic Theatre—Guy Fawkes’ Day on the Ice—Christmas
Festivities—Unparalleled Cold—Spring Sledging—Attempt to reach the
_Discovery_—Illness and Death of Petersen—The Ravages of
Scurvy—Tribute to Captain Hall’s Memory—Markham and Parr’s
Northern Journey—Highest Latitude ever reached—Sufferings of the
Men—Brave Deeds—The Voyage Home.

The first official communication received from Captain Nares, and written
from Disco, stated that on the voyage out, owing to the heavy lading of
the Arctic ships, they were extremely wet and uneasy, and that the
hatchways had to be frequently battened down during the prevalence of the
many heavy gales encountered. The _Alert_ and _Discovery_ each lost a
whale-boat. A quantity of loose pack-ice had been met after passing Cape
Farewell. Mr. Krarup Smith, the Inspector of North Greenland, and the
other Danish officials, had been most courteous and obliging, and had
engaged to supply from different stations all the Esquimaux dogs they
might require.

Passing over some intermediate details not generally interesting, we find
that Captain Nares decided to force his way through the “middle ice” of
Baffin’s Bay, instead of proceeding by the ordinary route round Melville
Bay. On July 24th they ran into the pack, and had the satisfaction,
thirty-four hours afterwards, of having completed the passage of the
middle ice, an unparalleled feat. “It will ne’er be credited in
Peterhead,” said the astonished ice-quartermasters. At Cape York,
icebergs, many of them grounded, were noted thickly crowded together. At
the south-east point of Carey Island a reserve depôt of provisions, &c.,
was formed, and the record we have already mentioned as having been
recovered by Captain Young was deposited in a cairn. Later, another note
was left at Littleton Island. The first ice, in large quantities, was
sighted off Cape Sabine on the 30th of July. The pack in the offing
consisted of floes from five to six feet thick, with occasionally older
and heavier floes, ten to twelve feet in thickness, but always much
decayed and honeycombed. The ships were detained at Payer Harbour for
three days, watching for an opening in the ice, getting under weigh
whenever there appeared the slightest chance of proceeding onwards, but on
each occasion being forced to return. On the 4th of August they were
enabled to proceed twenty miles up Hayes Sound. A little later, and both
ships were for the time hopelessly entangled, and the rudders and screws
had to be unshipped. At this period they barely escaped a serious
collision with a large iceberg. The repetition of many similar dangers,
through which, however, the ships passed safely, would be wearisome to the
reader. On August 24th, five miles off Cape Lieber, the pack obliged the
vessels to enter Lady Franklin’s Sound, on the northern shore of which an
indentation of the land gave promise of protection. On a nearer approach
they discovered a well-protected harbour inside an island immediately west
of Cape Bellot, against which the pack-ice of the channel rested. The next
morning they were rejoiced to see a herd of nine musk-oxen feeding close
by, all of which were killed. The vegetation was considerably richer than
at any part of the coast visited north of Port Foulke, which Captain Nares
considers “the Elysium of the Arctic regions.” The harbour was found to be
perfectly suitable for winter quarters, and it was therefore decided to
leave the _Discovery_ there, while the _Alert_ should push on alone. The
_Discovery_ was embedded in the ice for ten and a half months. Captain
Stephenson, of that vessel, stated, in a paper read before the Royal
Geographical Society, that their first care was to place on shore six
months’ provisions and fuel, to guard against any possible accident to the
ship. They were particularly fortunate in killing musk-oxen and smaller
game. Before the darkness set in they had shot thirty-two of the former,
and had at one time as much as 3,053 lbs. of frozen meat hanging up. The
captain could not say much for its flavour: “it was so very musk.” Snow
was piled up outside the ship fifteen to twenty feet thick. This and the
layer on deck—mingled with ashes, which formed a kind of macadamised
walk—kept the warmth in the vessel, and the temperature of the lower deck
ranged from 48° to 56°. On October 10th they lost sight of the sun, and
did not see it again for 135 days.

[Illustration: WINTER QUARTERS OF THE “DISCOVERY.”]

The _Alert_ on her northward passage had many a severe tussle with the
ice, but passed through all dangers successfully. On August 31st Captain
Nares had the great satisfaction of having carried his vessel into
latitude 82° 24’ N., a higher point than ever attained before. The ensign
was hoisted at the peak, and there was universal rejoicing on board at
this early achievement. It was doubtless regarded as a happy omen of
future successes.

At the northern entrance of Robeson Channel the breadth of navigable water
became much contracted, until off Cape Sheridan the ice was observed to be
touching the shore. In Robeson Channel, except where the cliffs rose
precipitously from the sea, and afforded no ledge or step on which the ice
could lodge, the shore-line was noted to be fronted, at a few paces
distance, by a nearly continuous ragged-topped “ice-wall,” from fifteen to
thirty-five feet high. It was broken only off the larger ravines. After
proceeding some distance north it became evident that their sailing season
was rapidly coming to an end. Captain Nares, after a thorough
investigation, found that he had to winter in a somewhat exposed place, no
harbour being available. He had rounded the north-east point of Grant
Land, but instead of finding a continuous coast-line, leading far towards
the north, as expected, found himself on the border of an apparently
extensive sea, with impenetrable ice on every side. The ice was of most
unusual age and thickness, resembling in a marked degree, both in
appearance and formation, low floating icebergs rather than ordinary
salt-water ice. It has now been termed the “Sea of Ancient Ice.” Whereas
ordinary ice is usually from two feet to ten feet in thickness, that in
the Polar Sea, in consequence of having so few outlets by which to escape
to the southward in any appreciable quantity, gradually increases in age
and thickness until it measures from 80 to 120 feet, floating with its
surface at the lowest part fifteen feet above the water-line.

Strange as it may appear, the extraordinary thickness of the ice saved the
ship from being driven on shore, for, owing to its great depth of
flotation, on nearing the shallow beach it grounded, and formed a barrier,
inside which the ship was comparatively safe. When two pieces of ordinary
ice are driven one against the other and the edges broken up, the crushed
pieces are raised by the pressure into a high, long, wall-like hedge of
ice. When two of the ancient floes of the Polar Sea meet, the
intermediate, lighter, broken-up ice which may happen to be floating about
between them alone suffers; it is pressed up between the two closing
masses to a great height, producing a chaotic wilderness of angular blocks
of all shapes and sizes, varying in height up to fifty feet above water,
and frequently covering an area of upwards of a mile in diameter. Captain
Nares mentions pieces being raised by outward pressure and crashing
together which must have weighed 30,000 tons! A ship between such opposing
masses would be annihilated in an instant.

As soon as the shore ice was sufficiently strong Commander A. H. Markham,
with Lieutenants A. A. C. Parr and W. H. May under his orders, started on
the 25th September with three sledges to establish a depôt of provisions
as far in advance to the north-westward as possible. Lieutenant P. Aldrich
left four days previously, with two lightly-equipped dog-sledges, to
pioneer the road round Cape Joseph Henry for the larger party. He returned
on board on the 5th of October, after an absence of thirteen days, having,
accompanied by Adam Ayles, on the 27th September, from the summit of a
mountain 2,000 feet high situated in latitude 82° 48’ North—somewhat
further north than the most northern latitude attained by their gallant
predecessor, Sir Edward Parry, in his celebrated boat and sledge journey
towards the North Pole—discovered land extending to the north-westward for
a distance of sixty miles to latitude 83° 7’, with lofty mountains in the
interior to the southward.

On the 14th October, two days after the sun had left them for its long
winter’s absence, Commander Markham’s party returned, after a journey of
nineteen days, having with very severe labour succeeded in placing a depôt
of provisions in latitude 82° 44’ north, and of tracing the coast-line
nearly two miles further north, thus reaching the exact latitude attained
by Sir Edward Parry.

Being anxious to inform Captain Stephenson of his position, and the good
prospects before his travelling parties in the following spring in
exploring the north-west coast of Greenland, Captain Nares despatched
Lieutenant Rawson to again attempt to open communication between the two
vessels, although he had grave doubts of his succeeding. Rawson was absent
from the 2nd to the 12th of October, returning unsuccessful on the latter
day, having found his road again stopped by unsafe ice within a distance
of nine miles of the ship. The broken masses of pressed up ice resting
against the cliffs, in many places more than thirty feet high, and the
accumulated deep snow-drifts in the valleys, caused very laborious and
slow travelling.

During these autumn sledging journeys, with the temperature ranging
between 15° above to 22° below zero, the heavy labour, hardships, and
discomforts inseparable from Arctic travelling, caused by the wet soft
snow, weak ice, and water spaces, which obliged the sledges to be dragged
over the hills, combined with constant strong winds and misty weather,
were, if anything, much greater than those usually experienced. Out of the
northern party of twenty-one men and three officers, no less than seven
men and one officer returned to the ship badly frost-bitten, three of
these so severely as to render amputation necessary, the patients being
confined to their beds for the greater part of the winter.

During the winter Captain Nares, assisted by his officers, did his very
best to keep the crew not merely employed, but amused. A school was
organised; and Captain Markham states, to the credit of the Royal Navy,
that out of fifty-five men on the _Alert_ there were only two who could
not read when they came on board. On both vessels there were small
printing presses, which were used specially for printing the programmes of
their entertainments, and occasionally even for striking off bills of
fare. Each Thursday(15) was devoted to lectures, concerts, readings, and
occasional theatrical performances. On the opening night—if any such
distinction could be made when all was night—the programme commenced as
follows:—“The Royal Arctic Theatre will be re-opened on Thursday next, the
18th inst. (18th November), by the powerful Dramatic Company of the
Hyperboreans, under the distinguished patronage of Captain Nares, the
Members of the Arctic Exploring Expedition, and all the Nobility and
Gentry of the neighbourhood.”

[Illustration: WINTER QUARTERS OF THE “ALERT.”]

Meantime, on the _Discovery_ something very similar was occurring. As soon
as the ice would bear it, they commenced erecting houses, including a
magnificent observatory, an ice theatre, and a smithy. The theatre was
opened on December 1st. It was the plan for plays to be produced by
officers and men alternately. The entertainments were varied by songs and
recitations, not a few of these being original. On November 5th they had a
bonfire on the ice, and burned the “Guy,” according to the usual custom,
with rockets and blue lights.

The Rev. Charles Hodson, chaplain of the vessel, says:—“As soon as the ice
was sufficiently firm, a walk of a mile in length was constructed by
shovelling away the snow. This place was generally used as an exercise
ground during the winter. We also constructed a skating-rink there. A free
hole in the ice was always kept near the ship. From time to time this
gradually closed up, and it then had to be sawn with ice saws or else
blasted with gunpowder. The dogs lived on the open floe all the winter.
The changes in the temperature are very rapid, and I have known the
variation to be as great as 60° in a few hours. The coldest weather we had
was in March, when one night the glass showed 70½° below zero.

“And now a few words as to the manner in which we kept Christmas. First of
all, in the morning we had Christmas Waits in the usual manner. A sergeant
of marines, the chief boatswain’s mate, and three others, went round the
ship singing Christmas carols suited to the occasion, and made a special
stay outside the captain’s cabin. On the lower deck in the forenoon there
were prayers, and after that captain and officers visited the mess in the
lower deck, tasted the pudding, inspected the decorations which had been
made, and so on. Then the boxes of presents given by friends in England
were brought out, the name of him for whom it was intended having been
already fixed to each box, and the presents were then distributed by the
captain. Ringing cheers, which sounded strange enough in that lone place,
were given for the donors, some of them very dear indeed to the men who
were so far away from their homes. Cheers were also given for the captain
and for absent comrades in the _Alert_. A choir was then formed, and ‘The
Roast Beef of Old England’ had its virtues praised again. The men had
their dinner at twelve o’clock, and the officers dined together at five.
We had brought fish, beef, and mutton, all of which we hung up on one of
the masts, and it was soon as hard as a brick, and perfectly preserved. We
had also brought some sheep from England with us, and they were killed
from time to time. When we arrived in Discovery Bay, as we called it, six
of them were alive, but on being landed they were worried by the dogs, and
had to be slaughtered. During the winter the men had to fetch ice from a
berg about half a mile distant from the ship in order to melt it for fresh
water. This used to be brought in sledges.

“The sun returned on the last day in February. From November till
February, with the exception of the starlight and occasional moonlight, we
had been in darkness, not by any means dense, but sufficiently murky to
excuse one for passing by a friend without knowing him.”

Captain Nares states that one day early in March, during a long
continuance of cold weather, the thermometer on the _Alert_ registered a
mean or average of minus(16) 73° 7’, or upwards of 105° below the freezing
point of water. On the _Discovery_ for seven consecutive days the
thermometer registered a mean temperature of minus 58° 17’. On the _Alert_
for thirteen days a mean temperature of minus 58° 9’ was experienced, and
for five days and nine hours a mean temperature of minus 66° 29’. During
February the mercury remained frozen for fifteen consecutive days, which
it could not have done had not the temperature remained at least 39° below
zero. Subsequently the mercury was frozen solid for an almost identical
period. One curious effect of the cold was that their breech-loading guns
sometimes proved useless, for the barrels contracted so much that the
cartridges could not be inserted. Nevertheless the huntsmen were often
out, and were fairly successful. The _Alert’s_ game-bag for winter and
early spring included six musk-oxen, twenty hares, seventy geese,
twenty-six ducks, ten ptarmigan, and three foxes. That of the _Discovery_,
in a lower latitude, was much larger as regards the oxen and hares. The
crew of the latter also killed seven seals.

And now the spring sledging season approached, and Captain Nares, anxious
to communicate with the _Discovery_, seized the first favourable
opportunity (March 12th, 1876) to despatch Sub-Lieutenant Egerton in
charge of a sledge. He was only accompanied by Lieutenant Rawson and
Christian Petersen, their interpreter. Four days afterwards the little
party returned to the ship, in consequence of the severe illness of poor
Petersen, who had succumbed to a terrible attack of frost-bite and cramp
in the stomach. His feet were almost destroyed and utterly useless; his
hands were paralysed, and his face raw. Nothing could keep him warm,
though the officers, to their credit, deprived themselves of nearly all
their thick clothing for his benefit. After very great persistence they
could, indeed, to a certain limited extent, restore the circulation to his
extremities, but it became obvious that with the existing temperatures it
would be folly to proceed with such a drag and encumbrance on their
enterprise. The temperature inside the tent at night was intensely cold,
and they had to burrow out a snow hut for the use of the sufferer. Even
inside this all the means at their command did not suffice to raise the
temperature much above zero, it being 24° below zero at the time in the
open air. The hut was simply a hole about six feet by four, and six feet
deep, covered over with the tent-sledge, &c., and it had occupied them six
hours even to accomplish this much for their patient’s comfort. Lieutenant
Egerton says, in his report to Captain Nares, that Petersen, when asked if
he was warm in his feet and hands, constantly responded in the
affirmative, but that when examined by them they were found to be gelid
and hard. The fact was that all feeling had departed; and it occupied
Egerton and Rawson two hours on one occasion to restore circulation to his
feet, which they eventually succeeded in doing by rubbing them with their
hands and flannels. Leaving a part of their provisions and outfit, they,
at eight o’clock on the morning of March 15th, were under way on their
return to the vessel. With some assistance, Petersen, after taking a dose
of thirty drops of sal-volatile and a little rum—the only thing, indeed,
which he could keep on his stomach—got over the first portion of the
journey, which was the worst; and as soon as the travelling became easier
he was lashed on the sledge and covered with robes. His circulation was so
feeble that his face and hands were constantly frost-bitten and his limbs
cramped, entailing frequent stoppages, while the two officers did their
best to restore the affected parts. This happened over and over again; and
there can be no doubt that both Egerton and Rawson behaved in the most
humane and heroic manner, suffering as they were in some degree from
frost-bite themselves, and having the constant care of the sledge and nine
unruly dogs, while the preparations for camping and cooking, into the
bargain, fell to their lot. On arrival at the ship every care was taken to
relieve Petersen, but eventually his feet had to be amputated, while not
all the professional skill and unremitting care of Dr. Colan could save
his life. He expired from utter exhaustion three months afterwards. The
two brave officers just mentioned, accompanied by two seamen, subsequently
made a successful trip to and from the _Discovery_, and afterwards there
was frequent communication, as well as co-operation, on the part of both
crews, in regard to some of the sledging parties.

[Illustration: AN “ALERT” SLEDGE PARTY EN ROUTE TO THE “DISCOVERY.”]

It would be undesirable to attempt the description in detail of the whole
of the many sledge expeditions which were sent out in various directions
from both vessels. Among the more important may be named that under
Lieutenant Beaumont, of the _Discovery_, who, crossing the difficult,
broken, and sometimes moving ice of Robeson Channel, explored the
Greenland shores to lat. 82° 18’ N. Scurvy made its appearance in a
virulent form among his men, only one thoroughly escaping its ravages. The
party, in detachments, reached the depôt at Polaris Bay with the greatest
difficulty, and not before two poor fellows had succumbed. Soon after the
return journey of those who had proceeded furthest had commenced the whole
party was attacked by the insidious disease, until at last Lieutenant
Beaumont and two others had to drag the other four, who were rendered
absolutely _hors de combat_. The sledge, with its living burden, had
always to make the journey twice, and often thrice, over the same road,
and that a rough and difficult route over broken and hummocky ice.
“Nevertheless,” says Captain Nares, “the gallant band struggled manfully
onwards, thankful if they made one mile a day, but never losing heart.” A
relief party, consisting of Lieutenant Rawson and Dr. Coppinger, with
Hans, an Esquimaux, and a dog-sledge, went out in search of them, and met
them providentially, just as even the two hardiest of the men were giving
in. Indeed, for part of the journey the hauling was performed entirely by
the three officers. How thankful were they to at length reach a pleasant
haven—Polaris Bay, the spot so intimately connected, as we shall hereafter
see, with the memory of poor Hall, the American explorer, and where
Captain Stephenson, of the _Discovery_, had a little while before
performed a thoughtful and graceful act in erecting over his grave a
tablet and head-board! At Polaris Bay most of the invalids soon recruited,
and some of this happy result was due to the fact that those able to get
about were successful in shooting game enough to furnish a daily ration of
fresh meat. When they eventually reached their vessel they had been absent
132 days, a long outing in the Arctic regions.

There were so many parties in the field at one time that we must confine
ourselves very much to results, as our narrative would otherwise be a
series of repetitions. Lieutenant Archer, of the _Discovery_, explored
Lady Franklin Sound, proving that it terminates at a distance of
sixty-five miles from the mouth with lofty mountains and glacier-filled
valleys; while Lieutenant Fulford and Dr. Coppinger examined Petermann
Fiord, finding it terminate in the precipitous cliff of a glacier. A seam
of excellent coal, 250 yards long and over eight yards thick, was found
near the winter quarters of the _Discovery_. Lieutenant Aldrich, of the
_Alert_, made a detailed exploration of the northern shores of Grinnell
Land for 220 miles, the main gist of his discoveries being that there was
no appearance of land to its northward; and no doubt some will see in this
another argument in favour of the “open” Polar Sea theory, to which we
have already alluded. When, on his return, he was met by a relief party
under Lieutenant May, only one of his men was able to drag with him at the
ropes. Four men were being carried, while two struggled on by the side of
the sledge. The scurvy here, as with all the parties, attacked the men,
leaving the officers scatheless.

The journey, however, which we are about to briefly describe, was the most
interesting of any undertaken on the expedition under review. Commander
Markham and Lieutenant Parr, pushing forward almost due north, over and
among the stupendous masses of ice which covered the Polar Sea, after many
a weary struggle reached the highest latitude ever attained—viz., 83° 20’
26" N. Parry has now to resign the place of honour which he had held for
close on half a century.

This division was known as the “Northern,” in contra-distinction to the
“Western,” the “Greenland,” and others, and consisted of thirty-three
officers and men, while an additional sledge, with four men, accompanied
them for a few days to form a depôt of provisions some distance from the
ship for use on their return should they have run short. Of the
thirty-three engaged, it was not supposed that all would proceed to the
furthest point; but Dr. Moss, and Mr. White one of the engineers, having
charge of the third and fourth sledges, went with the understanding that
they should assist the party to pass the heavy barrier of stranded
floe-bergs bordering the coast. Each of the sledges had its own name;
indeed, this was true of all those employed. Those of the northern
division were the _Marco Polo_, _Victoria_, _Bulldog_, and _Alexandra_.
Two boats, equipped and provisioned for seventy days, were taken. In an
interesting paper read before a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society
by Captain Markham, on December 12th, 1876, he stated that the sledges to
which they gave a decided preference were what are commonly called the
eight-man sledges, each crew consisting of an officer and seven men. The
extreme weight of these when packed and fully equipped for an extended
journey, on leaving the ship, was 1,700lbs., or at the rate of 220lbs. to
240lbs. per man to drag. The tents, each sledge crew being provided with
one, were eleven feet in length, affording a little under fourteen inches
space for each man to sleep in, the breadth of the tent being about the
length of a man. The costume was composed of duffle, a woollen material
resembling thick blanket, over which was worn a suit of duck to act as a
“snow repeller.” Their feet were encased in blanket wrappers, thick
woollen hose, and mocassins. Snow spectacles were invariably worn. After
their first adoption they were comparatively exempt from snow blindness.
They slept in duffle sleeping bags, and their tent robes were made of the
same material. They had three meals a day. Breakfast during the intensely
cold weather was always discussed in their bags. It consisted of a
pannikin full of cocoa, and the same amount of pemmican with biscuit. The
pemmican was always mixed with a proportion of preserved potatoes. After
marching for about five or six hours a halt was called for luncheon. This
meal consisted of a pannikin of warm tea, with 4ozs. of bacon and a little
biscuit to each man. When the weather was intensely cold, or there was any
wind, this meal was a very trying one. They were frequently compelled to
wait as long as an hour and a half before the tea was ready, during which
time they had to keep continually on the move to avoid frost-bite. The
question, “Does it boil?” was constantly heard; and the refractory
behaviour of the kettle tried the unfortunate cook’s temper and patience
to the utmost. After the day’s march—sometimes ten to eleven, and even
twelve working hours—had terminated, and every one was comfortably settled
in his bag, supper, consisting of tea and pemmican, was served, after
which pipes were lighted, and the daily allowance of spirits issued to
those who were not total abstainers. The mid-day tea was found most
refreshing and invigorating, and it was infinitely preferred by the men to
the old custom of serving half the allowance of grog at that time.

[Illustration: SUNSHINE IN THE POLAR REGIONS.]

The party started on April 3rd (1876) from the vessel, and for a few days,
although the route was difficult, made fair progress. The men were in good
health and spirits, and, except a few trifling cases of snow blindness,
there were no casualties to report. The reader will not need to be
informed that snow blindness is produced by the intense glitter of the
sunlight on the snow crystals. Even as early as April 6th we read in
Markham’s “Journal”(17) of a beautiful sunny day, when the temperature was
35° below zero, and everything frozen stiff and hard. When as far as the
eyes can reach in any direction there is nothing but a dazzlingly white
field of snow or snow-covered hummocks, the effect is extremely painful,
and, indeed, would soon render them weak and sore, and eventually blind,
but for the use of “goggles” in some form. In the various journals of the
expedition we read of different kinds, made of coloured or smoked glass,
&c. The writer has seen among the natives of Northern Alaska, and has
himself used, _wooden_ goggles. Covering each eye is an oval piece of
wood, usually painted black, scooped out like and about the size of the
bowl of a dessert-spoon, with a narrow, straight slit cut through the
middle. These, with the leather strips by which they are tied on, look
clumsy enough, but were found effectual in use. Among natives even,
accustomed to the glare on the snow, who had neglected their use in
spring, one might often note those with swollen, red, and weak eyes.

To return to our expedition. On reaching a depôt made at Cape Joseph Henry
(Grinnell Land), the point from which they would leave the land, the party
was re-arranged; only fifteen men with three sledges, carrying a weight of
6,079 pounds in all, were to form the northern party, which, under Markham
and Parr, would proceed direct “to sea.” It is needless to say that it was
a sea of ice, and very ancient ice also, making the travelling
correspondingly difficult from the enormous size of the hummocks and
extent of their fields. Perhaps the entries appended to each day’s travel
in Markham’s “Journal” will give as good an idea of the difficulty and the
tortuous nature of their route, and of the frequency of their trips over
the same road being duplicated and triplicated, as any direct description.
We find constantly entries like the following:—“Course and distance made
good north four miles. Distance marched, thirteen miles.” This is a mild
example. It was found impossible to move the whole of their heavy loads at
one time. Indeed, during a large part of the journey but one sledge at a
time could be dragged forward. This entailed returning _twice_, and in
effect making _five_ trips over the same route, thus: forward with number
one; return and forward with number two; return and forward with number
three, the process being repeated as long as the endurance of the party
was equal to it. One mile of progress became therefore five of actual
travel; in some cases, where the parties on the return journeys had become
enfeebled, and had to be carried on the sledges, _three_ returns had to be
made by the working members, thus entailing _seven_ trips over the same
route. Markham’s “Journal” for April 10th has, “Distance made good, one
mile. Distance marched, seven.” On the 12th it was as one and a half to
nine, on the 17th as one and a quarter to nine, and on the 18th as one to
ten, the latter taking ten hours to accomplish. The writer can understand
all this well, having in a minor degree had the same experiences in
Northern Alaska, where the winters are only a shade less severe than in
these extreme latitudes.(18)

The men were now dragging 405 lbs. apiece, and the exertion and severe
climate were beginning to tell upon them. The symptoms of scurvy were
plain enough, and on the 19th we do not wonder to find Markham determining
to leave one of his boats. “Before quitting the boat an oar was lashed to
the mast, and the mast stepped, yard hoisted, and decorated with some old
clothes,” in order that they might be sure to find it on their return. No
wonder the men worked a little livelier shortly afterwards, for they were
thus relieved of dragging a matter of 800 lbs. Two of them, however, were
already prostrated with scurvy, and had to be carried on the sledges. In
journeying to the northward the route seldom lay over smooth ice, and the
somewhat level floes, or fields, were thickly studded over with rounded,
blue-topped ice humps, ten or twenty feet high, laying sometimes in
ranges, but more often separated, at a distance of 100 to 200 yards apart,
the depressions between being filled with snow, deeply scored into ridges
by the wind, the whole composition being well comparable to a suddenly
frozen oceanic sea. Separating the floes were “hedges” of ice masses,
often forty to fifty feet high, or more, thrown together in irregular and
chaotic confusion, and where there was little choice of a road over,
through, or round about them. Among and around these, again, were
steep-sided snow-drifts, sloping down from the highest altitude of the
piled-up masses to the general level. “The journey,” says Captain Nares in
the general report, “was consequently an incessant battle to overcome
ever-recurring obstacles, each hard-won success stimulating them for the
next struggle. A passage way had always to be cut through the squeezed-up
ice with pick-axes, an extra one being carried for the purpose, and an
incline picked out of the perpendicular side of the high floes, or roadway
built up, before the sledges, generally one at a time, could be brought
on. Instead of advancing with a steady walk, the usual means of
progression, more than half of each day was expended by the whole party
facing the sledge and pulling it forward a few feet at a time.”
Occasionally a little “young ice,” which had formed between the split-up
floes of ancient date, would afford them better travelling, but this
luxury was not often found. As the warmer weather approached—anything
above zero was considered warm—they were much troubled by wind, snow-fall,
and foggy weather. On April 30th so thick was it that they could scarcely
see the length of two sledges ahead, and as they were surrounded by
hummocks they were obliged to halt, for fear of becoming entangled. It
would be wearisome to the reader to enlarge upon similar experiences,
which were of daily occurrence.

[Illustration: A SLEDGE PARTY STARTING FOR CAPE JOSEPH HENRY.]

They had on May 11th exceeded by several days the time for which they were
provisioned, and so many of the men were, from the weakening effects of
scurvy, actually _hors de combat_, or as nearly as possible useless, that
it was determined to make a camp in which to leave the invalids, while the
rest should push on for one final “spurt.” On the morning of the 12th,
therefore, leaving the cooks to attend upon the sufferers, the remainder
of the party, carrying the sextant and artificial horizon, and also the
sledge-banners and colours, started northwards. “We had,” says Markham,
“some very severe walking, struggling through snow up to our waists, over
or through which the labour of dragging a sledge would be interminable,
and occasionally almost disappearing through cracks and fissures, until
twenty minutes to noon, when a halt was called. The artificial horizon was
then set up, and the flags and banners displayed, these fluttering out
bravely before a S.W. wind, which latter, however, was decidedly cold and
unpleasant. At noon we obtained a good altitude, and proclaimed our
latitude to be 83° 20’ 26" N., exactly 399½ miles from the North Pole. On
this being duly announced, three cheers were given, with one more for
Captain Nares; then the whole party, in the exuberance of their spirits at
having reached their turning-point, sang the ‘Union Jack of Old England,’
the grand Palæcrystic sledging chorus, winding up, like loyal subjects,
with ‘God Save the Queen.’ These little demonstrations had a good effect
on the spirits of the men, and on their return to the camp a second
celebration, in which even the invalids joined, occurred, when a magnum of
whisky, that had been sent by Scotch friends to be consumed at the highest
latitude attained, was produced, and the steaming grog, so dear to the
sailor’s heart, was brewed. At supper, a hare, shot by Dr. Moss shortly
before they parted company at Depôt Point, was added to their usual fare
of pemmican, and in the evening, cigars, presented to them by Lieutenant
May before leaving the ship, were issued to each man. The day was brought
to a close with songs, and general hilarity prevailed.

[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF LIEUTENANT PARR ON BOARD THE “ALERT.”]

Markham speaks of their attempt almost as a failure. It was, however, the
greatest success of the expedition, although unhappily purchased at the
expense of one life. Passing over the return journey, we find that on the
evening of June 8th Lieutenant Parr, who had volunteered to take singly
and alone the sad intelligence that nearly the whole party were prostrated
with scurvy, arrived at the ship. Commander Markham and the few men who
were able to keep on their feet had succeeded by veritable “forced
marches” in conveying the invalids to the neighbourhood of Cape Joseph
Henry, thirty miles distant from the ship; but each day was adding to the
intensity of the disease, and lessening the power of those still able to
work. Parr, with brave determination, started alone, with only an
alpenstock and a small allowance of provisions, and completed his long and
solitary walk over a very rough icy road, deeply covered with newly-fallen
snow, within twenty-four hours. If, indeed, a large part of Markham’s
party could have done it at all, it would have taken them, with their
heavy loads, a week to ten days to accomplish the same distance. No time
was lost in making arrangements for their succour, and Captain Nares
himself, with two strong detachments, started at midnight. By making
forced marches, Lieutenant May, Dr. Moss, and a seaman, with a light
dog-sledge, laden with appropriate medical stores, reached the camp fifty
hours from the time that Lieutenant Parr had left it, but, unfortunately,
too late to save the life of George Porter, gunner R.M.A., who had expired
a few hours previously, and was already buried in the snow. Of the
original seventeen members of the party, only five—the two officers and
three of the men—were able to drag the sledges. Three others manfully kept
to their feet to the last, but were so weak that they were constantly
falling, and sometimes fainting, while the remaining eight had utterly
succumbed, and had to be carried on the sledges.

This is not the place for a medical discussion. Captain Nares’ conduct in
partially neglecting to supply the parties with sufficient of that great
anti-scorbutic, lime-juice, has been severely handled, and not without
some show of justice. On the other hand, it must be remembered that the
disease attacked a part of the crews who had _remained_ on both vessels
and had been well supplied with all dietary and medical necessaries. At
one time thirty-six cases were under treatment on the _Alert_, making it
resemble a naval hospital.

Captain Nares may be allowed to give in brief his reasons for returning
home that season. The enfeebled state of his crew precluded the hope that,
even when recovered, they would accomplish as much as, or at all events
more than, had been already done. He believes that from any position in
Smith’s Sound attainable by a ship it would be impossible to advance
nearer the Pole by sledges. Furthermore, that all that he could have hoped
to accomplish by stopping another winter was perhaps an extended
exploration of Grant Land to the south-westward, and Greenland for perhaps
fifty miles further to the north-eastward or eastward. And to his credit
it must be scored that he brought the vessels home in nearly as good
condition as they would have returned from any foreign station. After many
a fight with the elements and many an encounter with the ice, the _Alert_
and _Discovery_ reached our shores safely on October 27th, 1876. The
reader knows the rest, and if he is of our mind will not grudge the
honours bestowed on men who, if they had not accomplished all that was
expected, had at least done more than any of their predecessors in the
frozen fields of the far north.

CHAPTER XII.

THE FIRST ARCTIC VOYAGES.

Early History of Arctic Discovery—The “Hardy Norseman”—Accidental
Discovery of Iceland—Colony Formed—A Fisherman Drifted to
Greenland—Eric the Red Head—Rapid Colonisation—Early Intercourse
with America—Voyages of the Zeni—Cabot’s Attempt at a North-west
Passage—Maritime Enterprise of this Epoch—Voyage of the _Dominus
Vobiscum_—Of the _Trinitie_ and _Minion_—Starvation and
Cannibalism—A High-handed Proceeding—Company of the Merchant
Adventurers—Attempts at the North-east—Fate of
Willoughby—Chancelor, and our First Intercourse with Russia.

And now, having noted the results attained by the latest expedition which
has dared to attempt the discovery of the North Pole,(19) let us glance at
the progress of northern discovery from the very beginning, and watch the
gradual steps by which such discoveries were rendered possible. We shall
have to go back to a period when no compass guided the mariner on his
watery way, when sextants and artificial horizons were undreamed of, when
navigation, in a word, was but in its second stage of infancy. And
although many of the earlier discoveries were the result of pure accident,
we shall see much to admire in the enterprise and hardihood of explorers
who ventured almost blindfold into unknown seas, abounding in special
obstacles and dangers.

With the discovery of Iceland and Greenland virtually commences our
knowledge of the northern and Arctic seas. The Romans, even as late as
Pliny’s time, had no correct knowledge of the North Sea and Baltic, and
whatever they did know seems to have been derived second-hand from the
Carthaginians. In the days of our good King Alfred our ancestors did
undoubtedly engage in the pursuit of the whale and sea-horse, but it is to
the “hardy Norseman,” whose

“House of yore
Was on the foaming wave,”

that we are indebted for the first great discoveries. Conquering and
ravaging wherever they went, spreading not merely terror and ruin, but
also population and some of the ruder forms of civilisation, these
Scandinavian pirates were the only rulers of the main in the eighth,
ninth, and tenth centuries, during which they incessantly ravaged our
coasts, penetrated the very heart of France, established settlements, and
even levied tribute on the reigning monarch. These bold Northmen ventured
in vessels which now-a-days would be regarded as unsuitable for the most
trifling sea voyages. In the year 861, Naddodr, a Norwegian Viking, bent
on a piratical trip to the Faroe Islands, was driven by an easterly gale
so far to the north-westward that he reached an utterly unknown island.
Its mountains were snow-covered, and the first name suggested by this
fact, and which he bestowed on the island, was Sneeland (Snowland).
Certain Swedes ventured there three years afterwards, and on their return
gave such a very lively account of its vegetation and soil that an
emigration followed. One of the first adventurers thither was Flokko. The
secret of the magnetic power, as applied to the compass, although known
apparently in the earliest ages to the Chinese, was entirely unknown to
the Scandinavians; and Flokko had provided himself with a raven, or, as
some accounts say, four ravens, which, Noah-like, he let loose, and which
guided him to the land of which he was in quest. He passed a winter there,
and from the large quantity of drift-ice which encumbered the northern
bays and coasts, changed its name to that which it at present
bears—Iceland. In the year 874, Ingolf and other Norwegians, sick of the
tyranny of their king, Harold, determined to settle in the new-found
island. On approaching the coast, the leader, determining to be guided by
chance in his selection of a locality, threw overboard a wooden door,
which floated into a fiord on the southern side of the island, and the
emigrants landed there. Others soon joined the little colony, bringing
with them their cattle, implements, and household goods. From very early
Icelandic records it is interesting to learn that these Norwegians found
indications that others had preceded them, as on the shore were discovered
crosses, bells, and books, and other relics of the Christian worship of
those days. It is very generally believed that these were of Irish origin.
While the new colony was yet young, one Gunbiörn, a fisherman, was drifted
in his boat far to the westward, and he may perhaps be regarded as the
real discoverer of Greenland, but, although he sighted the land, he did
not attempt to explore it. About the year 982, Eric Rauda, or Eric the Red
Head, a man who had been convicted of manslaughter in Iceland, was
banished from the island for a term of years. Sailing with some companions
to the westward, he reached Greenland, and spent three years in its
examination, returning at the end of that time to Iceland, where he spread
a somewhat high-flown account of “its green and pleasant meadows” and of
its extensive fisheries. No less than twenty-five vessels were despatched
from Iceland for the newly-discovered land, a significant proof of the
early progress of the former colony. One-half of these were lost; the
others reached Greenland in safety.

By accident or design these Scandinavians were the great explorers of
their day, and the colonisation of Greenland virtually led to the first
European intercourse with North America. An Icelandic settler, one Bjarni,
on a voyage by which he hoped to reach Greenland, encountered severe
weather, and was driven on a part of the American coast, now believed to
have been that of Nantucket Island, south of the State of Massachusetts.
The account he gave on his return inflamed the ambition of Heif, or Heifr,
the son of that Eric who had founded the colony on Greenland. He equipped
a vessel, and set sail for the New World. On approaching the coast they
observed a barren and rocky island, which they named _Helleland_, and to a
low sandy shore beyond it, which was covered with wood, they gave the name
_Markland_. “Two days after this they fell in with a new coast of land, to
the northward of which they observed a large island. They ascended a
river, the banks of which were covered with shrubs, bearing fruits of a
most agreeable and delicious flavour. The temperature of the air felt soft
and mild to the Greenland adventurers, the soil appeared to be fertile,
and the river abounded with fish, and particularly with excellent
salmon.”(20) To the island they gave the name _Vinland_, because wild
grapes, or berries resembling grapes, were found there. They had reached
some part of the coast of Newfoundland, in all probability. The
intercourse between Greenland and America was kept up to the fourteenth
century, principally for the purpose of obtaining wood, but no colony was
formed. Meantime the Greenland colonies grew and flourished. Sixteen
churches were erected, and nearly three hundred hamlets formed on the east
and west sides. That on the west had increased till it numbered four
parishes, containing one hundred villages, but being engaged in perpetual
hostility with the native Esquimaux, then known as Skrœlings, the colony
was ultimately destroyed. In 1721, when the excellent missionary, Hans
Egede, visited that country, on its being re-colonised by the Greenland
Company, the ruins of their edifices were still to be found. The fate of
the eastern colony was, if possible, still more deplorable. It had, for a
time, a greater population than that of the western side. “A succession of
sixteen bishops is recorded in the Iceland annals,” says Barrow, “but when
the seventeenth was proceeding from Norway, in 1406, to take possession of
his see, a stream of ice had fixed itself to the coast, and rendered it
completely inaccessible; and from that period to the present time no
intercourse whatever has been had with the unfortunate colonists.” It is
related in the “History of Greenland” by Thormoder Torfager, that Amand,
Bishop of Skalholt, in Iceland, in returning to Norway from that island,
about the middle of the sixteenth century, was driven by a storm near to
the east coast of Greenland, and got so close that the inhabitants could
be seen driving their cattle, but they did not attempt to land. The fate
of the East Greenland colony has been the cause of much discussion, some
contending that it never was on the eastern side, but on the western; but
that there were two distinct colonies cannot be doubted. A field of ice
has apparently blocked the eastern coast for centuries, and all attempts
made to penetrate it have failed, as we shall see in the progress of our
narrative. Up to the end of the last century, the Esquimaux of the western
side spoke of a foreign race, taller than themselves, and of whom they
were greatly afraid, regarding them as cannibals and as their natural
enemies. When they had met, the former had always fled, the latter
shooting after them with arrows. Crantz, a great authority on Greenland,
says:—“If this report can be depended upon, we might suppose that these
men were descended from the old Norwegians, had sheltered themselves from
the savages in the mountains, lived in enmity to them out of resentment
for the destruction of their ancestors, pillaged them in the spring when
sustenance failed them, and were looked upon by the savages as man-eaters,
and fabulously represented through excess of fear.”

The above introduction to our subject will pave the way for the period
when the history of Arctic and northern voyages becomes more and more
definite. We begin with those of the Zeni brothers, from which the mists
of obscurity and error have only recently been cleared, through the
patient researches of a most careful student and geographer.

The voyages of the Zeni have generally been either ignored or considered
worse than mythical. For some three centuries these noble Venetian
adventurers have indeed been subjected to an amount of contumely and abuse
sufficient to have made them turn in their graves. But a champion has
arisen in the person of R. H. Major, Esq., F.S.A., one of the secretaries
of the Royal Geographical Society, who, clearing their narratives from
subsequent interpolations, has shown that their own voyages, and those of
others recorded by them were both genuine and important. Their history, in
brief, is as follows:—Towards the close of the fourteenth century, Nicolo
Zeno, a member of a distinguished Venetian family, sailed on a voyage of
discovery in the northern seas. Wrecked on the Faroe Islands, Sinclair,
the Earl of Orkney and Caithness, a noble pirate, ambitious as any
sovereign for conquest, took him into his service as pilot, and, later,
Nicolo was joined by his brother Antonio. Many of the journals and
documents of the Zeni were subsequently lost, and their narrations were
edited by a descendant, who mixed with them much of the false geography of
the day and conjectures of his own. This was the point of trouble. The
narrative cleared of a mass of error by Mr. Major’s investigations, there
can now be no doubt that Nicolo visited Greenland, where he found a
monastery of friars, preachers, and a church of St. Thomas close by a
volcanic hill. There was also a hot-water spring, which the monks used for
heating the church and the entire monastery, and by which they cooked
their meat and baked their bread. By a judicious use of this hot water
they raised in their small covered gardens the flowers, fruits, and herbs
of more temperate climates, thereby gaining much respect from their
neighbours, who brought them presents of meat, chickens, &c. They were
indebted, the narrative says, to the volcano for the very materials of
their buildings, for by throwing water on the burning stones while still
hot they converted them into a tenacious and indestructible substance,
which they used as mortar. They had not much rain, as there was a settled
frost all through their nine months’ winter. They lived on wild fowl and
fish, which were attracted by the warmth of that part of the sea into
which the hot water fell, and which formed a commodious harbour. The
houses were built all round the hill, and were circular in form and
tapering to the top, where was a little hole for light and air, the ground
below supplying all necessary heat. In summer time they were visited by
ships from the neighbouring islands and from Trondheim, which brought them
corn, cloths, and other necessaries in exchange for fish and skins. The
narrative goes on to speak of the fishermen’s boats, in shape like a
weaver’s shuttle, and made of the skins and bones of fishes, and other
points indicating a confirmation of the facts already mentioned concerning
the early history of Greenland. On the death of Nicolo Zeno, his brother
Antonio succeeded to his property, dignities, and honours, with which
latter, it seems, he would have gladly dispensed, wishing to return to his
own country, but the earl would not hear of it. Antonio therefore remained
in his service, and has recorded the accounts of some fishermen who had
undoubtedly reached North America; as also a voyage made by the Earl
Sinclair and himself, wherein the former at least appears to have reached
Newfoundland and Labrador. A part of these voyages may with more propriety
be considered when we come to the discoveries in regard to the New World
made by Columbus and the Cabots. And here a fact little known may be
briefly recorded, on account of the absence of almost any history, that
Cristoforo Colon (Columbus), prior to those great voyages which have made
his name immortal, did undoubtedly make a northern voyage, visiting both
Greenland and Iceland. The object of this voyage is unknown; but, judging
from the ruling ambition of the navigators of those days, it was to
attempt a north-west or north-east passage to the Indies. As our next
voyage will show, it is a question to whom belongs the honour of having
first made this attempt.

Giovanni Cabota, or Cabot, a Venetian, had settled in Bristol during the
reign of Henry VII., and being a skilful pilot and navigator, the king
encouraged him to attempt discoveries by granting him a patent, in virtue
whereof he had leave to go in search of strange lands, and to conquer and
settle them. One-fifth of the profits was to be the king’s. The patent
bears date March 5th, 1496, and is granted to Cabot and his three sons,
Ludovico, Sebastian, and Sancio. There is some little difficulty in
collating the various accounts collected by Hakluyt, but the voyage
reported by Sebastian to the Pope’s legate in Spain is distinct enough. He
says in effect that the discoveries of Columbus had inflamed his desire to
attempt to reach India by the north-west. By studying the
globe—“understanding by reason of the sphere,” he terms it—he thought that
he must, theoretically at least, reach India that way, if no land
intervened. He, of course, knew nothing of the icy barriers that stopped
Franklin and M’Clure from actually taking a vessel that way. The king
favoured his ideas, “and immediately commanded two caravels to bee
furnished with all things appertayning to the voyage,” which was made, as
far as he could remember, in 1496. Sailing to the north-west, he
encountered land in latitude 56°. Then, despairing to find the passage, he
turned back, sailing down the coast of America as far as Florida, when,
his provisions failing, he returned to England. The Cabots brought home
three natives of Newfoundland, who “were clothed in beasts’ skins, and did
eate raw flesh, and, spake such speach that no man could understand them;
and in their demeanour like to bruite beastes.” The attempt of Cabot
furnishes a clue to the object of many subsequent voyages, which were
intended to have been made _viâ_ the Arctic Seas to the Pacific and Indian
Oceans. It must be remembered that it was not till 1498 that the route to
the Indies _viâ_ the Cape of Good Hope was discovered. That _viâ_ Cape
Horn, as we shall see, was discovered still later.

In Hakluyt’s collection of voyages a very curious poem is reprinted,
complaining of the neglect of the navy in the time of Henry VI., and
praising highly “the policee of keeping the see in the time of the
merveillous werriour and victorious prince, King Henry the Fift.” The fact
is that for some little time the spirit of maritime adventure seems to
have slumbered, subsequent to the voyages just recorded. It, however,
broke out in full force in the reign of Henry VIII., and flourished still
more particularly in that of Queen Elizabeth. In 1527, “King Henry VIII.
sent two faire ships, well manned and victualled, having in them divers
cunning men, to seek strange regions, and so they set forth out of the
Thames the 20th day of May, in the 19th yeere of his raigne.” This voyage
was despatched at the instance of Master Robert Thorne, of Bristol, who,
in his “exhortation” to the king, gave “very weighty and substantial
reasons to set forth a discoverie, even to the North Pole.” One of the
vessels was lost “about the great opening between the north parts of
Newfoundland and Meta incognita, or Greenland,” and the other returned,
having accomplished nought, about the beginning of October. Hakluyt tried
hard to discover the names of the vessels, and of the “cunning men” aboard
them. He could only learn that one of the ships was called the _Dominus
Vobiscum_, and that a wealthy canon of St. Paul’s, a very scientific
person, had accompanied the expedition. “This,” writes Hakluyt, evidently
in no happy frame of mind, “is all that I can hitherto learne or finde out
of this voyage, by reason of the great negligence of the writers of those
times, who should have used more care in preserving of the memories of the
worthy actes of our nation.” Master Thorne deserves, however, the credit
of having been the first distinct advocate of Polar exploration in the
full sense of the term, or, is at least, the first of whom we have any
record.

The general interest felt in the subject of the North-west Passage about
this period may be inferred from the relation of the next voyage, that of
the _Trinitie_ and _Minion_ in 1536, where several gentlemen of the Inns
of Court and Chancery, “and divers others in good worship, desirous to see
the strange things of the world,” accompanied the expedition. Of
“sixe-score persons” in the “two tall ships,” thirty were private
gentlemen. The voyage was instigated by Master Hore, of London, “a man of
goodly stature and of great courage, and given to the study of
cosmographie,” and was directly encouraged by Henry VIII. After a tedious
voyage of two months, they reached Cape Breton, and later Penguin Island
and Newfoundland, where they encountered some of “the naturall people of
the countrey,” who fled from them. The history of this voyage was given to
Hakluyt by Mr. Oliver Dawbeney, a merchant, who was one of the adventurers
on the _Minion_. Laying in a harbour of Newfoundland, their provisions
began to get very scarce, and “they found small reliefe, more than that
they had from the nest of an osprey, that brought hourely to her yong
great plentie of divers sorts of fishes. But such was the famine that
increased amongst them from day to day, that they were forced to seek to
relieve themselves off raw herbes and rootes that they sought on the main;
but the famine increasing, and the reliefe of herbes being to little
purpose to satisfie their insatiable hunger, in the fieldes and deserts
here and there, the fellow killed his mate while he stooped to take up a
roote for his reliefe, and cutting out pieces of his bodie whom he had
murthered, broyled the same on the coles and greedily devoured them.

“By this meane the company decreased, and the officers knew not what had
become of them; and it fortuned that one of the company, driven with
hunger to seeke abroade for reliefe, found out in the fieldes the savour
of broyled flesh, and fell out with one for that he would suffer him and
his fellowes to sterve, enjoying plentie as he thought; and this matter
growing to cruell speaches, he that had the broyled meate burst out into
these wordes:—‘If thou wouldest needes know, the broyled meat I had was a
piece of such a man’s buttocke.’ The report of this brought to the ship,
the captaine found what had become of those that were missing, and was
perswaded that some of them were neither devoured with wilde beastes nor
yet destroyed with savages; and hereupon he stood up and made a notable
oration, containing howe much these dealings offended the Almightie, and
vouched the Scriptures from first to last what God had, in cases of
distresse, done for them that called upon Him, and told them that the
power of the Almightie was then no lesse than in al former time it had
bene. And added, that if it had not pleased God to have holpen them in
that distresse, that it had been better to have perished in body, and to
have lived everlastingly, than to have relieved for a poore time their
mortal bodyes, and to be condemned everlastingly both body and soule to
the unquenchable fire of hell. And thus having ended to that effect, he
began to exhort to repentance, and besought all the company to pray, that
it might please God to look upon their present miserable state, and for
His owne mercie to relieve the same.” The famine increasing, it was agreed
that they should cast lots who should be killed, but fortunately, that
very night a French vessel arrived in that port, and the chronicler coolly
and amusingly adds, “such was the policie of the English that they became
masters of the same, and changing ships and vittailing them they set sayle
to come into England.” It is but just to the king to add that he
afterwards recompensed the Frenchmen.

[Illustration: SEBASTIAN CABOT.]

The return of Sebastian Cabot to England, after he had done good service
to Spain in various maritime enterprises, was very much the cause of
awakening the merchants of London to renewed efforts for discovery. This
great navigator was introduced by the Duke of Somerset to Edward VI., soon
after his succession to the throne, and the young king was so charmed by
his conversation and intelligence that he created him, by patent, Pilot
Major, and settled on him the large annual pension—for those days—of £166
13s. 4d., “in consideration of the good and acceptable services done and
to be done.” He was also constituted “Governour of the mysterie and
companie of the marchant adventurers for the discoverie of regions,
dominions, islands and places unknowen.” By his suggestion a voyage was
instituted in the year 1553, for the discovery of a _north-east_ passage
to Cathaia; and three vessels—the _Bona Esperanza_, the _Edward
Bonadventure_, and the _Bona Confidentia_—under Sir Hugh Willoughby, as
captain-general of the fleet, were made ready for their eventful voyage.
So certain were the promoters of the expedition that the vessels would
reach the Indian Seas, that they caused them to be sheathed with lead as a
protection against the worms in those waters, which they understood were
destructive of wooden bottoms, and this is believed to be the first
instance of metal sheathing being used. On May 20th the ships were towed
to Gravesend, “the mariners being all apparalled in watchet or
skie-coloured cloth,” and the shores being thick with spectators. The
expedition started with an amount of _éclat_ which contrasts sadly with
the events which followed. Sir Hugh Willoughby, with the whole of the
merchants, officers, and companies of two of the ships, perished miserably
on the coast of Lapland, from the effects of cold and starvation. Their
dead bodies were found the following year by some Russian fishermen.

Master Richard Chancelor, the second in command, whose vessel had become
separated from the others, was more fortunate. After waiting vainly at
Wardhuys, in Norway, for the rest of the squadron, he held on his course
till he reached a “very great bay,” where he learned from the fishermen
that their country was Muscovy or Russia. He made a land journey of
fifteen hundred miles to Moscow, where he was well received, and from an
abortive attempt at making the north-east passage sprung that extensive
commerce with Russia which has continued, almost uninterruptedly, ever
since.

The events which immediately followed have little bearing on arctic
history, excepting that while our merchants were fully alive to the
importance of the new commerce opening to their vision they did not
neglect exploration. Chancelor and his companions, on a second voyage to
Russia, whither they went as commissioners to arrange the treaties and
immunities which the Czar might be pleased to grant, were instructed “to
use all wayes and meanes possible to learn howe men may passe from Russia,
either by land or sea, to Cathaia.” They did not even wait the result of
his voyage, but despatched a small vessel, the _Serchthrift_, in command
of Steven Burrowe, for north-eastern discovery. On the 27th April, 1556,
the vessel being ready at Gravesend, it was visited by many distinguished
ladies and gentlemen, including old Cabot, then in his ninety-seventh
year, who “gave to the poore most liberall almes; and then, at the sign of
the Christopher, hee and his friends banketted,” and “entered into the
dance himselfe amongst the rest of the young and lusty company.” The
_Serchthrift_ reached the Cola and Petchora rivers, Nova Zembla (the New
Land), and the island of Weigats. In proceeding to the eastward they
encountered much ice, in which they became entangled, and “which,” says
the narrative, “was a fearful sight to see.” But on June 25th they met
their first whale, which seems to have inspired more terror even than the
ice. The account given of it is amusing. “On St. James his day, bolting to
the windewardes, we had the latitude at noon in seventy degrees, twentie
minutes. The same day, at a south-west sunne, there was a monstrous whale
aboord of us, so neere to our side that we might have thrust a sworde or
any other weapon in him, which we durst not doe for feare he should have
overthrowen our shippe; and then I called my company together, and all of
us shouted, and with the crie that we made he departed from us; there was
as much above water of his backe as the bredth of our pinnesse, and at his
falling downe he made such a terrible noise in the water, that a man would
greatly have marvelled, except he had known the cause of it; but, God be
thanked, we were quietly delivered of him.” Burrowe returned to England in
the autumn, having reached in an eastward direction a further point than
any of his predecessors. Meantime, Chancelor, returning to England in
company with the newly-appointed Russian ambassador, was wrecked in
Pitsligo Bay, Scotland, the former losing his life, and the latter being
saved with difficulty.

CHAPTER XIII.

EARLY ARCTIC EXPEDITIONS.

Attempts at the North-west Passage—Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s
advocacy—The one thing left undone—Frobisher’s Expeditions—Arctic
“Diggins”—A Veritable Gold Excitement—Large Fleet
Despatched—Disaster and Disappointment—Voyages of John
Davis—Intercourse with the Natives—His Reports concerning Whales,
&c.—The Merchants aroused—Opening of the Whaling Trade—Maldonado’s
Claim to the Discovery of the North-west Passage.

While these attempts at a north-east passage were being made, the
north-west question was by no means forgotten. Several learned men,
including Sir Humphrey Gilbert, employed their pens in arguing the
practicability of such a passage. In his defence of such an attempt he
spoke of a friar of Mexico who had actually performed the journey, but
who, on telling it to the King of Portugal, had been forbidden to make it
known, lest it should reach England. Whatever the facts of this case, some
enthusiasm on the subject was the result, and Martin Frobisher spoke of it
as _the_ one thing “left undone.” But although he also persisted in his
advocacy, it took fifteen years of perseverance and constant effort before
he could find any one who would give him the assistance he needed. At
last, when hope was nearly dead within him, Dudley Earl of Warwick, came
to the rescue, and aided him to fit out two small barques, the _Gabriel_
and the _Michael_, thirty-five and thirty tons burthen respectively. With
these small craft—mere cockle-shells for such a voyage—he left the Thames.
As he passed Greenwich Palace, on the 8th of June, 1576, Queen Elizabeth
waved her farewell from a window. Briefly, they reached what is believed
to have been the southern part of Greenland and Labrador, where they could
not land because of the icy field surrounding the coast. Sailing to the
northward, Frobisher met with a gigantic iceberg, which fell in pieces
within their sight, making as much noise as though a high cliff had fallen
into the sea. They saw a number of Esquimaux, and perhaps the description
given of them by the commander is as good as any ever given in few
words:—“They be like to Tartars, with long black hair, broad faces, and
flatte noses, and taunie in colour, wearing seale skinnes; and so doe the
women, not differing in the fashion, but the women are marked in the face
with blewe streekes downe the cheekes and round about the eyes.” They came
near the ship timidly, and after a while one of them ventured into the
ship’s boat, when Frobisher presented him with a bell and a knife, and
sent him back with five of the crew. They were directed to land him apart
from the spot where a number of his countrymen were assembled, but they
disobeyed his orders, and were seized by the natives, together with the
boat, and none of them were heard of more. Returning to the same spot a
few days afterwards, one of the natives was enticed alongside the vessel,
when Frobisher, a very powerful man, caught him fast, “and plucked him
with maine force, boate and all, into his barke out of the sea. Whereupon,
when he found himself in captivity, for very choler and disdaine he bit
his tongue in twaine within his mouth; notwithstanding he died not
thereof, but lived until he came to England, and then he died of cold
which he had taken at sea.” With this “strange infidele” Frobisher set
sail for home, arriving at Harwich on October 2nd. It is very questionable
whether this, the first of Frobisher’s arctic voyages, would not have been
his last, but for one little circumstance, which had been overlooked until
the return of the expedition.

[Illustration: FROBISHER PASSING GREENWICH.]

Every one who visits a strange place likes to bring home some little
memento, and several of the men on this voyage had collected
trifles—flowers, moss, grass, pebbles, or what not. One of them had
obtained a piece of stone, “much like to a sea-cole in colour,” which
being given to one of the adventurer’s wives, she threw it in the fire,
doubtless to see whether it would burn. Whether from accident or not, she
threw some vinegar on it to quench the heat, when “it glistered with a
bright marquesset of golde.” This incident soon became known abroad, and
the stone was assayed, the “gold finers” reporting it to contain a
considerable quantity of gold. It seems almost ridiculous to think of a
fever, a veritable “excitement,” in connection with Arctic “diggins.”
Nevertheless, the next voyage of Frobisher was instigated purely for the
further discovery of the precious metal. Queen Elizabeth seems to have
been infected with the same fever, and Frobisher on taking his leave of
her Majesty had the honour of kissing her hand, and being dismissed with
“gracious countenance and comfortable words.” He was furnished with “one
tall ship” of her Majesty’s, named the _Ayde_, of 180 tons or so, and two
barques of about thirty tons each. On the way north they observed some
enormous icebergs, more than half a mile in circuit, and seventy to eighty
fathoms (210 to 240 yards) under water. The ice being perfectly fresh,
Frobisher came to the conclusion that they “must be bredde in the sounds,
or in some land neere the Pole.” It is now admitted that icebergs properly
so called, are but the _ends of glaciers_, broken off. Furthermore, he was
the first to record that “the maine sea freeseth not, therefore there is
no _mare glaciale_, as the opinion hitherto hath bene.” They loaded up
with the ore from Hall’s greater island and on a small island in
Frobisher’s Strait. “All the sands and cliffs did so glister, and had so
bright a marquesite, that it seemed all to be gold, but upon tryall made
it prooved no better than black-lead, and verified the proverbe, ‘All is
not gold that glistereth.’” We shall see that it was only iron pyrites, a
sulphuret of iron. They also professed to have found on another island a
mine of silver, and more gold ore.

[Illustration: AN ARCTIC SCENE: FLOATING ICE.]

On this expedition they had several altercations with the natives, and in
one skirmish in Yorke Sound killed five or six of them. It is said that
they found here some of the apparel of their five unfortunate companions
who had been seized the previous year by the natives. By means of two
captives they brought about some degree of intercourse with the Esquimaux,
and left a letter, understanding that their own sailors were still alive,
but they were never more seen. Having loaded with about 200 tons of the
supposed gold ore, they set sail for England, where they arrived safely,
to the great delight of the queen and court, who considered that there
were now great hopes of riches and profit. It was determined that a third
expedition should be despatched the following year (1578).

The fleet on this occasion consisted of no less than fifteen vessels. One
hundred persons were taken to form a settlement and remain there the
complete year, keeping three of the vessels for their own use; the others
were to bring back cargoes of the ore. Frobisher was appointed admiral and
general. From first to last the voyage was disastrous. In the straits
named after Frobisher, one of their larger barques struck so violently on
a mass of ice that she sank in sight of the whole fleet, and although all
the people on board were saved, a part of the house intended for the
settlers went down with the wreck. A violent storm next ensued, which
dispersed the fleet, some of the vessels being fixed in the ice of the
strait, others being swept away to sea. It was a severe season, and they
were bewildered by fogs, snow, and mist. After many perils, a large part
of the fleet assembled in the Countess of Warwick’s Sound, when a council
was held. It was at first determined to plant the colony on the adjoining
island, but on examination so much of the wooden house was missing, and so
great a quantity of the stores and provisions were on the ships which had
parted company, that the idea was abandoned. “A great black island,” where
so much black ore was found that it “might suffice all the gold gluttons
of the world,” was discovered by one of the captains, and was named after
him, “Best’s Blessing.” It was at length decided that each captain should
load his ship with ore and set homewards. The fleet arrived in England on
or about October 1st, having lost some forty persons. The ore being now
carefully examined proved worthless pyrites; and the Arctic gold mines
seem to have proved a “fizzle” as great as any of the worst which have
succeeded them. One Michael Lok, who had advanced money and become
security for Frobisher, was ruined, and cast into the Fleet prison. One of
the accounts mentions the fact that when the ore was first examined, one
of the assayers, “by coaxing nature, as he privately admitted to Michael
Lok,” _pretended_ to make the discovery of its precious qualities. It
seems that the Master of the Mint had reported on it adversely; but the
favourable opinion of others and the lust for wealth overcame all reason
and judgment, until queen, courtiers, and subjects were sobered by the
complete disappointment, which ended all further search for the time.
Frobisher did good service for his country afterwards, and fought with
such bravery against the Spanish Armada that he was knighted. He died from
the effect of a shot-wound received at the assault of Croyson, during the
war with Henry IV. of France.

[Illustration: MARTIN FROBISHER.]

The disastrous voyage of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, with its melancholy
termination, has been already described; but the merchants of London and
elsewhere, being still persuaded “of the likelyhood of the discoverie of
the north-west passage,” only two years later subscribed for fresh
attempts. John Davis—a name inseparably associated with arctic
enterprise—received the appointment of captain and chief pilot of the new
expedition. Two small vessels, the _Sunshine_ and _Moonshine_, were
employed, and on one of them four musicians were taken. They left
Dartmouth on the 7th of June, 1585, and on the 19th of July were off the
west coast of Greenland, where they noted “a mighty great roaring of the
sea,” which was found to proceed from the “rowling together of islands of
ice.” As they proceeded northward, the fog, which had hampered their
movements, clearing away, they observed “a rocky and mountainous land, in
form of a sugar-loaf,” its summit, covered with snow, appearing, as it
were, above the clouds. The aspect of all around was so uninviting that
Davis named it “The Land of Desolation.” He could not land there, owing to
the coast ice, and after sundry explorations to the southward, and again
to the north-westward, discovered an archipelago of islands, “among which
were many free sounds, and good roads for shipping,” to which he gave the
title of Gilbert’s Sound. Here a multitude of natives approached in their
canoes, on which the musicians began to perform, and the sailors to dance
and make signs of friendship. This delighted the “salvages,” and the
sailors obtained from them almost whatever they wished—canoes, clothing,
bows, and native implements. After other explorations they reached a fine
open passage (Cumberland Strait) between Frobisher’s Archipelago and the
land now called Cumberland’s Island, entirely free from ice, “and the
water of the colour, nature, and quality of the main ocean.” They
proceeded up it a distance of sixty leagues, when they found a cluster of
islands in the middle of the passage, and the weather being bad and the
season late, they, after a week’s further stay, determined to sail for
England, where they arrived safely on September 30th.

The reports given by Davis respecting the vast number of whales and seals
observed, and the peltries to be obtained from the Esquimaux, aroused the
enterprise of the merchants, and several persons in Exeter and other parts
of the West of England combined to add a trading vessel, the _Mermaid_, of
one hundred and twenty tons, to those which had been employed the previous
season. Davis again reached the west coast of Greenland, where much
intercourse was held with the natives, who came off to the vessels
sometimes in as many as one “hundred canoes at a time ... bringing with
them seale skinnes, stagge skinnes, white hares, seale fish, samon peale,
smal cod, dry caplin, with other fish, and birds such as the country did
yield.” The natives do not seem to have made quite so favourable an
impression as on the former occasion, and were described as thievish and
mischievous, prone to steal everything on which they could lay their
hands. After some remarks on their diet, we are gravely informed that they
“drink salt water,” and eat grass and ice as luxuries. They were found to
be extremely nimble and strong, and fond of leaping and wrestling, in
which they beat the best of the crew, who were west-country wrestlers. In
the middle of July the adventurous navigators were alarmed at the
appearance of a most “mighty and strange quantity of yce in one entire
masse,” so large that Davis was afraid to mention its dimensions, lest he
should not be believed. The same modesty and diffidence has not been
observed, to any marked degree, in the narratives of most modern voyagers
and travellers! They coasted the ice till the end of July, and the cold
was so severe, even in this month, that the shrouds, ropes, and sails were
frozen, and the air was loaded with a thick fog. Sickness prevailed among
the men, and they commenced to murmur. They “advised their captain,
through his overboldness, not to leave their widows and fatherless
children to give him bitter curses.” He therefore left the _Mermaid_ to
remain where she was, in readiness to return, while with the _Moonshine_
he would proceed round the ice. Davis made several discoveries of some
geographical importance, and thought that off the Labrador coast, in
latitude 54° N., he had actually discovered the opening to the north-west
passage. Two of his vessels, the _Sunshine_ and _North Star_, had been
despatched previously to seek a passage northward, between Greenland and
Iceland, as far as latitude 80°. They proceeded some little distance
north, being much hampered by the ice, but in effect accomplished nothing.
The latter vessel was lost on the passage home.

The second voyage of Davis had not been particularly prosperous either as
regards commerce or discovery, but his persistency and perseverance
induced the merchants to despatch a third expedition in 1587. On this
voyage he proceeded as far north as 73°, and discovered the strait which
now bears his name. The merchant adventurers would doubtless have
continued these voyages, even in part for discovery, had they been
reasonably profitable. But although Davis tried very zealously to persuade
them, they now declined most absolutely. We find him eight years after
appealing for the same object to Her Majesty’s Privy Council in a little
work entitled, “The Worlde’s Hydrographicall Discription,” a book of which
it is believed there are not over three copies in existence. Among the
headings to the various divisions is one to this effect: “That under the
Pole is the greatest place of dignitie.” Davis made no more arctic
voyages, but was employed by the Dutch in the East Indian service.

[Illustration: AN ICEBERG BREAKING UP.]

While there are so many well-authenticated voyages to record, we shall not
be blamed if those of a doubtful nature are here omitted. The so-called
voyage of Maldonado, in which he claimed to have effected a north-west
passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific in 1588, and back again the
following year, is universally discredited, and the narrative bears every
indication of being an utter forgery. The genuine voyage of Juan de Fuca,
in 1592, who, while searching for the same imaginary “Straits of Anian,”
of which Maldonado wrote, discovered the straits which now bear his own
name, belongs properly to voyages in the Pacific Ocean, and will be
considered in its place.

CHAPTER XIV.

North-eastern Voyages of the Dutch—Barents reaches Nova
Zembla—Adventures with the Polar Bears—Large Trading Expedition
organised—Failure of the Venture—Reward offered for the Discovery
of a North-east Passage—Third Voyage—Dangers of the Ice—Forced to
Winter on Nova Zembla—Erection of a House—Intense
Cold—Philosophical Dutchmen—Attacks from Bears—Returning
Spring—The Vessel abandoned—Preparations for a Start—The Company
enfeebled and down-hearted—Voyage of 1,700 miles in two small
Boats—Death of Barents and Adrianson—Perils of Arctic
Navigation—Enclosed in the Ice—Death of a Sailor—Meeting with
Russians—Arrival in Lapland—Home once more—Discovery of the
Barents Relics by Carlsen—Voyages of Adams, Weymouth, Hall, and
Knight.

“The True and Perfect Description of Three Voyages, so strange and
woonderfull that the like hath neuer been heard of before,” albeit bearing
a somewhat sensational title, is by a long way the most complete of early
Arctic narratives. The work is a translation, by one William Phillip, from
the Dutch of Gerrit de Veer, and describes three voyages undertaken by the
Hollanders towards the close of the sixteenth century, with the view of
reaching China by a north-east passage. The narrative of the last
expedition in particular, during the progress of which they met so many
disasters, were obliged to spend ten months in the inhospitable region of
Nova Zembla, abandon their vessel, and make their homeward voyage of
seventeen hundred miles in two small open boats through all the perils of
the Arctic seas, will be found most interesting. Our account is compiled
from the edition edited by Dr. Beke, and issued by the Hakluyt Society.

In the year 1594 the United Provinces determined to send out an expedition
in the hopes of finding a northern route to China and India. The city of
Amsterdam contributed two vessels: Zeelandt and Enkhuysen one each. Willem
Barents(21), “a notable, skillfull, and wise pilote,” represented
Amsterdam, while the other vessels were respectively commanded by Cornelis
Cornelison and Brand Ysbrants. The vessels left the Texel on June 5th, and
soon after separated. Following first the fortunes of Cornelison and
Ysbrants, we find that they reached Lapland on the 23rd, and, proceeding
eastward, found the weather in the middle of July as hot as in Holland
during the dog days, and the mosquitoes extremely troublesome. Reaching
Waigatz Island they met enormous quantities of drift-wood, which was also
piled up on the shores. Passing the southern end of the island, they
observed three or four hundred wooden idols, men, women, and children,
their faces generally turned eastward. Sailing through Waigatz Strait,
they found and were impeded much by large quantities of floating ice;
later they reached an open sea perfectly clear of it. The land to the
southward was in sight, and trended apparently to the south-east. Without
more ado they concluded that they had discovered an open passage round
Northern Asia to China, and turned their vessels’ bows homewards, in order
to be the first to bring the good news to Holland. Meanwhile, Barents, in
the _Messenger_, crossed the White Sea, and eventually made the west coast
of Nova Zembla, proceeding thence northwards, naming several headlands and
islands. About latitude 77° 25’ they encountered an immense field of ice,
of which they could see no end from the mast-head, and they had to turn
back. After becoming entangled in drift-ice, and experiencing misty, cold,
and tempestuous weather, the crew began to murmur, and then refused
positively to proceed. On the homeward voyage, after they had arrived at
Maltfloe and Delgoy Islands, they met the other ships, the commanders of
which were jubilant with the idea that they had discovered the North-east
Passage. At all events, on their return, the reports given by them were so
favourably considered, that preparations were immediately made for a
second expedition.

Near one of the islands off the coast of Nova Zembla Barents and a
boat-load of his men were almost swamped by an enormous white she-bear,
which they had wounded, and secured by a rope. The animal, in its pain and
fury, more than seconded their efforts to get it on board—for they had
fancied that they might take her alive to Holland—and a panic ensued.
Fortunately the rope caught round a rung or hook of the rudder, and one of
the bolder men then struck her into the water. The rest immediately got to
their oars and rowed so rapidly to the ship, that the bear was pretty well
half drowned by the time they arrived there, and she was easily
despatched. De Veer, the principal historian of these voyages, gives us
some graphic descriptions of the walrus. A female walrus almost succeeded
in swamping one of the boats, as Madam Bruin had before, but fled when a
good round volley of Dutch execrations were levelled at her. Some of the
men, tempted by the ivory tusks apparently within their easy reach, went
ashore with the intention of killing some of these animals, but the
sea-horses “brake all their hatchets, curtle-axes, and pikes in pieces,”
and they could not kill any of them, but succeeded in performing dentistry
on a rough scale by knocking out some of their teeth. The resemblance of
the front part of the head of a young walrus to a human face has been
often remarked, and, as we shall hereafter show, has had much to do with
sailors’ stories concerning mermaids and mermen. More than once has the
cry, “A man overboard!” been caused by the sudden appearance of the head
of a young walrus above the water near a ship’s side.

The second expedition consisted of seven vessels: six laden with wares,
merchandise, and money, and factors to act as traders; the seventh, a
small pinnace, was to accompany the rest for part of the voyage, and bring
back news of the proceedings. These extensive preparations were rendered
nearly useless by the dilatoriness of those who had the matter in hand.
The vessels did not leave the Texel till July 2nd, 1595, nor reach Nova
Zembla before the middle of August. The coasts of that island were found
to be unapproachable on account of the ice. In few words, they returned to
Holland, having accomplished little or nothing.

When off Waigatz some of the men had landed to search for supposed
precious stones, which they fondly believed were diamonds, but which were
doubtless pieces of rock crystal. As two of the men were taking a little
rest, a “great leane white beare” suddenly stole upon them, and caught one
fast by the neck. The other, seeing the cause, ran away. “The beare,” says
the quaint narrative, “at the first faling upon the man, bit his head in
sunder, and suckt out his blood,” whereupon some twenty of the men ran to
the place, and charged the animal with their pikes and muskets. Bruin,
nothing daunted, seized another of the men and tore him in pieces, the
rest, seized with terror, running away. A number of sailors, seeing all
this, immediately came on shore, and a second charge was made. Many shots
were fired, but missed; at length the purser shot the animal between the
eyes, when she began to stagger. Two of the men broke their axes over her,
and yet she would not leave the bodies of their comrades. At length one of
them succeeded in stunning her with a well-directed blow, and then cut her
throat.

[Illustration: NOVA ZEMBLA, SHOWING THE ROUTE TAKEN BY BARENTS AND HIS
FOLLOWERS.
(_After an Authentic Map made by Gerrit de Veer._)]

[Illustration: MOCK SUNS, SEEN ON THE 4TH JUNE, 1596, BY BARENTS AND HIS
FOLLOWERS.
(_After a Stamp published in 1609 at Amsterdam._)]

On the return of the second expedition from a voyage so fruitless, the
General States of the United Provinces declined to repeat the experiment,
but offered a large reward to any one who might make it “apparant that the
sayd passage was to be sayled.” The merchants of Amsterdam thereupon
prepared two vessels, and selected mostly single men for their crews,
_i.e._, men unhampered by family ties, offering them great rewards if the
objects they sought were accomplished. One of the vessels was commanded by
Jacob Heemskerke Hendrickson, the master of the second being Cornelison
Rijp; Barents was appointed chief pilot. The expedition sailed from
Amsterdam on May 10th, 1596, and on June 1st was in a latitude high enough
to have no night. On the 4th, in lat. 71°, they observed two parahelia, or
mock suns, which are thus described in the narrative:—“On each side of the
sunne there was another sunne and two raine-bowes, that past cleane thorow
the three sunnes, and then two raine-bowes more, the one compassing round
about the sunnes, and the other crosse thorow the great rundle.” On the
5th they fell in with the first floating ice, which at a distance they
mistook for white swans, and on the 7th they were in lat. 74°, sailing
through the ice “as if betweene two lands.” They found quantities of the
eggs of red geese on an island. The narrator makes these birds, when
flying away, cry out “Rot, rot, rot” (red), as though describing
themselves. They also killed several bears, one of which they pursued in
their boats while “foure glasses were run out (_i.e._, for two hours), for
their weapons seemed powerless to do her hurt. One of the men struck her
with an axe, which stuck fast in her back, and with which she swam away.
They followed, and at length a well-directed blow split her skull.” They
appear to have been much hampered in proceeding further north from the
constantly accumulating ice. By their latitude at this time they were near
Amsterdam Island, on which is that cape or foreland since so well known to
whalers as Hakluyt’s Headland. On July 1st the commanders mutually agreed
to part company: Cornelison Rijp, who now disappears from the scene, being
of opinion that by sailing back to Spitzbergen, which they had just left,
he would find a passage near its east side; while Barents favoured an
eastward course in a lower parallel, and steered for Waigatz Strait and
Nova Zembla, which latter he reached on July 17th. As far as the ice would
permit they stood to the northwards, and at the end of the first week of
August doubled Point Nassau, where, the wind being contrary, they made the
ship fast to an iceberg, thirty-six fathoms (216 feet) under water, and
sixteen fathoms (96 feet) above it. This berg suddenly, without warning,
broke up: “with one great cracke it burst into foure hundred pieces at the
least.” Ships have often been overwhelmed in this manner. Ice in all forms
now surrounded them; the ship’s rudder was smashed to pieces, and their
boat crushed like a nutshell, while a similar fate was expected constantly
for the vessel herself, which had become much strained. They had equally
to give up all hopes of proceeding or returning that season, and with
great difficulty they got to the west side of a harbour on Nova Zembla,
named by them Ice Haven. Here, as we shall see, they had to pass a long
winter, under circumstances of great hardship and danger.

On August 27th the ice drove with great force on the ship’s bows, and
lifted her up several feet. They feared that she must be capsized. Shortly
afterwards the ship burst out of the ice, “with such a noyse and so great
a crack” that all on board feared their last hour was come. On the 30th,
during a heavy snow and boisterous weather, the ice masses commenced
driving and grinding together with greater force than before; the ship was
lifted up bodily, almost upright, and then dashed into the water again. We
cannot wonder to learn that the hairs of their heads also stood “vpright
with feare” amid such scenes.

And so it went on from day to day, the vessel being strained and cracked
in many places, and leaking badly. On September 5th they held a council,
and determined to commence the work of removing the stores ashore. They
carried off their old foresail, and “other furniture” on land to make a
tent; powder, lead, muskets, with bread and wine, and some tools to mend
their boat. “The 11 of September,” says the narrative, “it was calme
wether, and 8 of vs went on land, euery man armed, to see if that were
true, as our other three companions had said that there lay wood about the
riuer; for that seeing we had so long wound and turned about, sometime in
the ice, and then againe got out, and thereby were compelled to alter our
course, and at last saw that we could not get out of the ice, but rather
became faster, and could not loose our ship, as at other times we had
done, as also that it began to be winter, we took counsell together what
we were best to doe according to the time that we might winter there, and
attend such aduenture as God would send vs; and after we had debated vpon
the matter, to keepe and defend our selues both from the cold and the wild
beasts, we determined to build a house vpon the land to keep vs therein as
well as we could, and so to commit ourselues vnto the tuition of God.” As
they had little wood on board, and there were no trees on land, they were
most rejoiced when they found “certaine trees, roots and all,” which had
been driven upon the shore (drift-wood, probably, brought down by one of
the great rivers of Asiatic Siberia, floated out to sea, and deposited on
the shores of Nova Zembla). “We were much comforted,” says the narrator,
“being in good hope that God would show vs some further fauour; for that
wood serued vs not onely to build our house, but also to burne and serue
vs all the winter long; otherwise, without all doubt, we had died there
miserably with extreame cold.”

[Illustration: TRANSPORTING WOOD ON SLEDGES FOR BUILDING THE HOUSE.]

The party as it now stood consisted of seventeen persons, of whom one, the
carpenter, who of all could least be spared at this juncture, died towards
the end of September, and another was prostrated with sickness. They had
to haul the wood in sledges for a considerable distance over ice and snow,
and it was so intensely cold that the skin was often taken off their hands
and faces. “As wee put a naile into our mouthes,” says De Veer “(as
carpenters use to do) there would ice hang thereon when wee took it out
againe, and make the bloud follow.” The present writer saw precisely the
same thing happen more than once at a Russian trading post in Alaska some
years ago, and knows well what it is to have his own mouth and nostrils
nearly frozen up by the breath congealing about the moustache, lips, &c.,
more especially when camped in the “open” at night. These good Dutchmen
seem to have been most resigned and philosophical during “their cold,
comfortlesse, darke, and dreadful winter,” determining to make the best of
their hard lot. The narrative of De Veer is told in a plain, unvarnished,
and manly style, and, as Dr. Beke(22) has well remarked, “we may perceive
that the reliance of himself and his comrades on the Almighty was not less
firm or sincere because His name was not incessantly on their lips.
Cheerfulness, and even frequent hilarity, could not fail to be the
concomitants of so wholesome a tone of mind.”

On September 15th two bears made their appearance, and there was great
excitement, the men being anxious to shoot them. A tub or barrel of salt
beef was standing on the ice near the ship, and one of the bears put his
head into it to get out a joint of the meat. But “she fared therewith,”
says the narrator, “as the dog did with ye pudding;(23) for as she was
snatching at the beefe she was shot into the head, wherewith she fell
downe dead and neuer stir’d (there we saw a curious sight); the other
beare stood still, and lokt vpon her fellow (as if wondering why she
remained so motionless), and when she had stood a good while she smelt her
fellow, and perceiuing that she lay still and was dead, she ran away, and
all pursuit was vain.”

[Illustration: ATTACKED BY BEARS.]

At length their house was completed; it had been built partly from the
drift-wood, and partly from the deck timbers and other portions of the
ship. The original illustration, a very quaint picture, shows the fire in
the middle of the floor, and a large chimney immediately over it. In other
illustrations in De Veer’s works the chimney is surmounted by a barrel,
which served the same purpose for the “look out” as the “crow’s nest” or
observatory in modern Arctic vessels. An oil lamp swung in the centre of
the room, and a large bench, with divisions, served for resting places by
night. The old Dutch clock, the works of which became frozen during the
winter, is shown hanging on the wall, while the large twelve-hour
sand-glass, which replaced it, is also included. A large wine-vat or
barrel, standing on end, requires explanation. It was used as a vapour or
steam bath, a hole in the side being cut both for air and as a door or
opening for ingress or egress. The steam was in all probability made by
placing hot stones in a small quantity of water at the bottom of the
barrel. The writer has in Alaska (formerly Russian America) often used a
steam bath of a construction almost as primitive, where in a small room
the required vapour was raised by throwing water on a little furnace or
fire-place, built of stones, which were kept at a white heat by a fire
inside. Round the walls of the room were shelves or benches, on which one
could recline, and by selecting the upper or lower ones, as the case might
be, enjoy a greater or a lesser degree of heat.

On November 4th the last feeble rays of the sun took leave of them, and
intense cold followed. Their wine and spruce-beer became frozen, and
separated into two parts, the water being ice, and the remainder a thick
glutinous liquid. Melted together again, they were nearly undrinkable.
Wood does not appear to have been scarce till later in the winter,
although they had to fetch some of it a distance of several miles. They
once tried a fire of coal in the middle of their room, but the experiment
was not repeated, as the sulphurous smoke nearly suffocated them. Their
thickest European clothing was utterly insufficient for the climate they
had to endure. During the winter they killed and trapped a few bears and
foxes, and some of their skins were of course utilised. The former,
however, disappeared with the sun, and only reappeared when it again
showed itself.

The record of their monotonous winter life, almost entirely confined to
the house, would be as tedious in the recital as it was in reality. Their
wretched habitation was nearly buried in snow, and they felt as much out
of the world as though they had really left it. Outside, gale succeeded
gale, and howling winds and drifting snow prevented the possibility of
hunting, exercise, or amusement. Inside, as the record tells us, they used
all the means in their power to preserve warmth: put hot stones and heated
cannon-balls at their feet, and smothered themselves in every article of
clothing or bedding they had, but with little avail; their cots and the
walls were covered with frost, and themselves as stiff and white as
corpses. The narrative says quaintly that as they sat before a great fire
their shins burned on the fore side, while their backs were frozen.
Nevertheless they repined not, but took everything in the spirit of calm
philosophy. On December 26th De Veer, when an unusually severe day had set
in, writes that they comforted themselves that the sun had gone as low as
it could, and must now return. The quaintness and simplicity of this
narrative is well illustrated by the following entry for the last day of
1596:—“The 31 of December it was still foule wether, with a storme out of
the north-west, whereby we were so fast shut vp into the house as if we
had beene prisoners, and it was so extreame cold that the fire almost cast
no heate; for as we put our feete to the fire we burnt our hose
(stockings) before we could feele the heate, so that we had constantly
work enough to do to patch our hose. And, which is more, if we had not
sooner smelt than felt them, we should haue burnt them quite away ere we
had knowne it.”

On January 5th they even celebrated Twelfth Night, making merry with a
small quantity of wine, pancakes, and white biscuit. They drew lots for a
master of revels, and it fell to the gunner, who was made King of Nova
Zembla. All this, after all, was more sensible than giving way to the
despondency which they could not help feeling at times. On February 12th
they shot a bear, the first for the year. The first bullet fired, passing
through her body, “went out againe at her tayle, and was as flat as a
counter that had been beaten out with a hammer.” This was a god-send to
them, as now they were enabled to keep their lamps constantly burning,
which previously they had often been unable to do for want of grease. The
bear yielded a hundred pounds of fat. In the latter part of winter the
bears came round the house, and attempted to break in the door, while one
almost succeeded in entering by the chimney.

[Illustration: REPAIRING THE BOAT.]

At the beginning of March they saw open water, and were greatly rejoiced,
looking hopefully forward to the day of release. In April the ice hummocks
on the coast were “risen and piled vp one vpon the other, that it was
wonderfull in such manner as if there had bin whole townes made of ice,
with towres and bulwarkes round about them.” In May their provisions were
getting very low, and they themselves were both weakened by inaction and
insufficiency of food, while the scurvy had made its appearance among some
of the number. Impatient of their long and dreary sojourn, the men, on the
9th and 11th of May, came to Barents, praying him to speak to “the maister
(skipper) to make preparations to goe from thence.” On the 15th they
consulted together and decided to leave at the end of the month, if “the
ship could not be loosed,” which gladdened the hearts of the men. Next
they began to repair their clothes; and on May 29th the boat and yawl were
cleared of the snow which buried them. The narrative shows how enfeebled
they had become. Ten of them went to the boat, to repair it and make it
ready. When they had got it out of the snow, and thought themselves able
to drag it up to the house, their united efforts were not sufficient. De
Veer says, “We could not doe it because we were too weake.” They became,
we cannot wonder, wholly out of heart, for unless the boats could be got
ready they would, as the master told them, have to remain as burghers or
citizens of Nova Zembla, and make their graves there. But, as the
narrative continues, there was no want of goodwill in them, but only
strength. After a rest they did, by slow degrees manage to repair and
heighten the gunwales of the boat. Their work was impeded by the bears,
one of which they killed, and the liver of which having eaten, they were
“exceeding sicke,” so much so that of three of the men it is stated that
“all their skins came off from the foote to the head.” Although bear’s
meat is perfectly wholesome and far from uneatable, the same fact has very
frequently been noticed in regard to the poisonous qualities of the liver,
at least at certain seasons. In this case, the captain took what was left
and threw it away, for as De Veer candidly admits, they “had enough of the
sawce thereof.”

It now became obvious that the ship, which was completely bilged, must be
abandoned, and their time, after repairing and strengthening the boats,
was fully employed in moving and packing their goods, including the more
valuable of the merchandise they had brought for trading purposes from the
house, and in stripping the ship of everything of value. On June 12th they
went with hatchets, pick-axes, shovels, and all kinds of implements, to
make a clear wide shoot or way from the house, passing the ship, to the
water. The ice was full of hummocks, knobs, and hills, and this was not
the lightest of their labours. Then Barents and the skipper wrote letters,
detailing the circumstances of their ten months’ stay, and that they were
forced to abandon the ship and put to sea in two open boats, to which all
of the men subscribed except four, who from sickness or inability could
not write. Barents’ letter was put in a place of safety in their deserted
house, and each of the boats was furnished with a copy of the captain’s
letter, in case they should be separated or one or other lost. The yawl
and boat having been launched and loaded, Barents and a man named
Adrianson, both of whom had been long invalids, were carried on a sledge
to the water’s edge. There were now fifteen men in all, and their
provisions were reduced to limited rations of bread, one barrel of Dutch
cheese, one flitch of bacon, and some small runlets of wine, oil, and
vinegar.

To the narrative which follows the compiler can hardly do justice, whilst
an exact reprint of the quietly and unsensationally told story of Gerrit
de Veer would have to be closely studied before the reader would
understand and feel the adventurous and desperate nature of the exploit
performed. These fifteen poor Dutchmen, gaunt and exhausted as we know
they were, weakened by semi-starvation and disease, badly provisioned at
this most critical time, two of their number dying, bravely encountered a
voyage of some seventeen hundred miles, eleven at least of which were
amongst the worst dangers of the Arctic seas. The larger of their two
craft was a fishing yawl of the smallest size. For eighty days they
struggled through an unknown and frozen ocean, in the ice, over the ice,
and through the sea, exposed to all the ordinary dangers of wave and
tempest, liable to be crushed at any moment by the grinding ice masses, or
swamped by the disintegration of icebergs, constantly having to unload,
haul up, and re-launch their boats, and further, exposed to severe cold,
wet, fatigue, and famine, as well as to the constant attacks of savage
animals. They persevered, for although their hearts often sank within
them, it was for dear life, and at length their heroic efforts were
rewarded. Some few extracts from the work already so often quoted will
give a faint idea of the dangers through which they passed and over which
they finally triumphed.

The boats, sailing in company, left Ice Haven on June 14th, 1597, at first
slowly, making their course from one cape or headland to another. At the
very start they became entangled in the floating ice, which, however, on
the following day was more sparsely scattered. On June 16th they set sail
again (having stopped off Cape Desire for the night), and got to the
Islands of Orange. There they went on land with two small barrels and a
kettle to melt snow, as also to seek for birds and eggs for their sick
men. Of the former they only obtained three. “As we came backe againe,”
says the narrator, “our maister fell into the ice, where he was in great
danger of his life, for in that place there ran a great streame (‘strong
current’ is Dr. Beke’s translation); but, by God’s helpe, he got out
againe and came to vs, and there dryed himselfe by the fire that we had
made, at which fire we drest the birds, and carried them to the scute to
our sicke men.” Putting to sea again, with a south-east wind and a
mizzling rain, they were soon all wet to the skin. Off Ice Point, the most
northerly cape or point of Nova Zembla, the skipper called to Barents to
ask him how he did, to which he answered, “I still hope to run before we
get to Wardhuus.” Then he turned to De Veer, and said, “Gerrit, if we are
near the Ice Point just lift me up again. I must see that point once
more.” These were almost the last words of this brave man, who undoubtedly
felt at the time that not merely he should never see Ice Point again, but
that he was not long for this world. He was dying fast, and his courageous
words were meant for his companions’ comfort. “Next day,” says the
narrator, “when we had broken our fastes, the ice came so frightfully upon
vs that it made our haires stand vpright vpon our heades, it was so
fearefull to behold; by which meanes we could not make fast our scutes, so
that we thought verily that it was a foreshewing of our last end; for we
draue away so hard with the ice, and were so sore prest between a flake of
ice, that we thought verily the scutes would burst in a hundredth peeces,
which made vs look pittifully one upon the other, for no counsell nor
aduise was to be found, but every minute of an houre we saw death before
our eies.” At last, in desperation, De Veer managed to jump on a piece of
ice, and creeping from one to another of the grinding masses, at length
secured a rope to one of the hummocks. “And when we had gotten thither,”
says he, “in all haste we tooke our sicke men out and layd them vpon the
ice, laying clothes and other things vnder them, and then tooke all our
goods out of the scutes, and so drew them vpon the ice, whereby for that
time we were deliuered from that great danger, making account that we had
escaped out of death’s clawes, as it was most true.”

The boats having been repaired, they were delayed some days by the ice,
which shut them in. On June 20th Adrianson “began to be extreme sick,” and
the boatswain came to inform the others that he could not live long;
“whereupon,” says De Veer, “William Barents spake and said, I think I
shall not liue long after him; and yet we did not ivdge William Barents to
be so sicke, for we sat talking one with the other, and spake of many
things, and William Barents looked at my little chart which I had made of
our voyage (and we had some discussion about it). At last he laid away the
chart and spake vnto me, saying, Gerrit, give me some drinke; and he had
so sooner drunke but he was taken with so sodaine a qualme that he turned
his eies in his head and died presently, and we had no time to call the
maister out of the other scute to speak vnto him; and so he died before
Claes Adrianson (who died shortly after him). The death of William Barents
put us in no small discomfort, as being the chiefe guide and only pilot on
whom we reposed our selues next under God; but we could not striue against
God, and therefore we must of force be content.” Other passages indicate
that Barents had inspired great affection in the hearts of his companions,
and that his loss was felt with much poignancy.

[Illustration: UNLOADING, DRAGGING, AND CARRYING BOATS AND GOODS.]

The following passage is only one of many indicating the laborious nature
of their undertaking:—“The 22 of June in the morning it blew a good gale
out of the south-east, and then the sea was reasonably open, but we were
forced to draw our scutes ouer the ice to get vnto it, which was great
paine and labour unto vs; for first we were forced to draw our scutes over
a peece of ice of 50 paces long, and then put them into the water, and
then againe to draw them vp vpon other ice, and after draw them at the
least 300 paces more ouer the ice, before we could bring them to a good
place, where we might easily get out.” On the 25th and 26th of June a
tempest raged, and they were driven to sea, being unable, as they had
sometimes done before, to tie the boats to fast or grounded ice. They were
nearly swamped at this time by the great seas which constantly broke over
their open boats, and for some little time were separated in a fog, but by
firing muskets at length found out each other’s position and joined
company. One of the boats got into a dangerous place between fixed and
driving ice, and the men had to unload it, and take it and the goods
bodily across the masses to more open water. On June 28th, the narrative
continues, “We laid all our goods vpon the ice, and then drew the scutes
vpon the ice also, because we were so hard prest on all sides with the
ice, and the wind came out of the sea vpon the land, and therefore we were
in feare to be wholly inclosed with the ice, and should not be able to get
out thereof againe. And being vpon the ice, we laid sailes ouer our
scutes, and laie down to rest, appointing one of our men to keepe watch;
and when the sun was north there came three beares towards our scutes,
wherewith he that kept the watch cried out lustily, ‘Three beares! Three
beares!’ at which noise we leapt out of our boates with our muskets, that
were laden with small shot to shoote at birds, and had no time to reload
them, and therefore shot at them therewith; and although that kinde of
shot could not hurt them much, yet they ranne away, and in the meane time
they gaue vs leisure to lade our muskets with bullets, and by that meanes
we shot one of the three dead.... The 29th of June, the sun being
south-south-west, the two beares came againe to the place where the dead
beare laie, when one of them tooke the dead beare in his mouth, and went a
great way with it ouer the rugged ice, and then began to eate it; which we
perceauing, shot a musket at her, but she, hearing the noise thereof, ran
away and let the dead beare lie. Then foure of vs went thither, and saw
that in so short a time she had eaten almost the halfe of her.” It was as
much as these four could do to carry away the half of the body left,
although the bear had just before dragged the whole of it over the rough
and hummocky ice with little exertion.

On July 1st they were again in great danger among the driving, grinding
ice, their boats were much crushed, and they lost a quantity of goods,
and, what was of vital importance at the time, a large proportion of their
remaining provisions. A few days afterwards their little company was still
further reduced by the death of one of the sailors. On July 11th, and a
week afterwards, they were enclosed by ice, from which they could not
extricate themselves. During this enforced delay they shot a bear, whose
fat ran out at the holes made by the bullets, and floated on the water
like oil. They obtained some seventy duck eggs on a neighbouring island,
and for a time feasted royally. “The 18 of July,” says the narrator,
“about the east sunne, three of our men went vp vpon the highest part of
the land to see if there was any open water in the sea; at which time they
saw much open water, but it was so farre from the land that they were
almost out of comfort, because it lay so farre from the land and the fast
ice.” They had on this occasion to row to an ice-field, unload, and drag
and carry boats and goods at least three-fourths of a mile across; they
then loaded and set sail, but were speedily entangled again, and had to
repeat their previous experiences.

And so it went on for forty-four days, until, in St. Laurence Bay, behind
a projecting point, they suddenly came on two Russian vessels with which
they had met the previous year, and the crews of which wondered to see
them in their present plight, “so leane and bare” and broken down. They
exchanged courtesies, and provided them with a trifling supply of rye
bread and smoked fowls, then sailing away on their own affairs. For
thirty-five days longer they sailed westward, repeating many of their
previous experiences, till at length, on September 2nd, they arrived at
Kola, in Russian Lapland, and their troubles were really over.
Cornelison’s ship happened to be in the port, and they rejoiced and made
merry with their old companions, who had long given them up for lost.

Thus ended this remarkable voyage of nearly eighty days in two small open
boats. It would seem nowadays utter madness to think of making a long
voyage in such frail and unsuitable craft, and our adventurers had had the
special perils of the Arctic seas superadded to the more ordinary dangers
of the ocean. Eight weeks later they were enjoying the calm pleasures of
their own firesides, after having been entertained at the Hague by the
Prince of Orange.

A further interest attaches to the voyage from the recent discovery made
by Captain Carlsen, while circumnavigating Nova Zembla, of the very house
erected at Ice Haven by these adventurers, with many interesting relics,
which had remained in tolerable preservation, and had been evidently
unvisited for this great length of time. “No man,” says Mr. Markham, “had
entered the lonely dwelling where the famous discoverer of Spitzbergen had
sojourned during the long winter of 1596 for nearly three centuries. There
stood the cooking-pans over the fireplace, the old clock against the wall,
the arms, the tools, the drinking-vessels, the instruments, and the books
that had beguiled the weary hours of that long night, 278 years ago....
Perhaps the most touching is the pair of small shoes. There was a little
cabin-boy among the crew, who died, as Gerrit de Veer tells us, during the
winter. This accounts for the shoes having been left behind. There is a
flute, too, once played by that poor boy, which will still give out a few
notes.”(24) The relics brought home by Carlsen were eventually taken to
the Hague, where they are now preserved with jealous care.

In chronological order, a voyage of which there is little record left
comes next. There is little doubt that William Adams—who, afterwards cast
away on the coast of Japan, is inseparably connected with the history of
that country, and whose adventures will be considered in the proper
place—did, in 1595 or 1596, make an attempt at the north-east passage. The
Prince of Orange had ordered him to try for a northern route to Japan,
China, and the Moluccas, considering that it would be shorter, and safer
from the attacks of the pirates and corsairs who infested the more
southern seas. Adams averred that he had reached 82° N., but that “the
cold was so excessive, with so much sleet and snow driving down those
straits, that he was compelled to return.” And he asserted that if he had
kept close to the coast of Tartary, and had run along it to the eastward,
to the opening of Anian, between the land of Asia and America, he might
have succeeded in his undertaking.

Next comes the attempt of George Weymouth in 1602. He was despatched by
the worshipful merchants of the Muscovy and Turkey Companies to attempt a
north-west passage to China. This voyage was an utter failure, and he
never reached a higher latitude than 63° 53’ N. While proceeding to the
north-west they passed four islands of ice “of a huge bignesse,” and about
this time the fog was so thick that they could not see two ships’ lengths
before them, and the sails, shrouds, and ropes were frozen so stiff that
they could not be handled. On July 19th the crew mutinied, and conspired
to keep the captain confined to his cabin, while they reversed the ship’s
course and bore for England. Weymouth discovered this, and punished the
ringleaders. The boats were on one occasion sent to an iceberg, to load
some of it for fresh water, and as the men were breaking it “the great
island of ice gave a mightie cracke two or three times, as though it had
been a thunderclappe; and presently the island began to overthrow,” which
nearly swamped the boats. The whole account of Weymouth’s voyage is
confused and indefinite, but he evidently did nothing beyond cruising
among the islands north of Hudson’s Strait, and off Labrador.

In 1605, 1606, and 1607, three expeditions, of which James Hall, an
Englishman, was pilot, were despatched to the Greenland coasts by the King
of Denmark. They fancied on the first voyage that they had discovered a
silver mine in Cunningham’s Fiord, Greenland, and the second voyage was
instigated in the hopes of filling the royal coffers with the precious
metal. These voyages were in effect most fruitless. Several natives were
carried off by Hall, who in return left three Danish malefactors on the
Greenland coasts, a severe mode of banishment. While these voyages were in
progress, the Muscovy and East India merchants had despatched a small
barque, under the command of John Knight, for the discovery of the
north-west passage. Near Cape Guinington, on the coast of Labrador, a
northerly gale, which brought down large quantities of drift ice, did much
damage to the vessel, and she lost her rudder. Knight took the vessel into
the most accessible cove in order to repair her, and went ashore with the
mate and four sailors, all well armed, to endeavour to find some more
suitable harbour. On landing, Knight, the mate, and another, went up
towards the highest part of the island, leaving the others to take charge
of the boat. The latter waited some thirteen hours, but the captain and
his companions did not return. Next day, a well-armed party from the ship
went in search of them, but were unable to reach the island on account of
the ice. No tidings were ever gleaned concerning their fate, but it was
concluded that the savage natives had killed them, as later a number of
these people came down and attacked the crew with great ferocity. They had
large canoes, and the narrator describes them as “very little people,
tawnie coloured, thin or no beards, and flat-nosed, and man-eaters.” After
patching up their vessel, they steered for Newfoundland, and later for
England, which they reached in safety.

[Illustration: VIEW ON THE HUDSON.]

CHAPTER XV.

Henry Hudson’s Voyages—Projected Passage over the Pole—Second
Expedition—A Mermaid Sighted—Third Voyage in the Dutch
Service—Discovery of the Hudson River—Last Voyage—Discovery of
Hudson’s Bay—Story of an Arctic Tragedy—Abacuk Pricket’s
Narrative—Their Winter Stay—Rise of a Mutiny—Hudson and Nine
Companions Set Adrift and left to Die—Retribution—Four of the
Mutineers Killed—Sufferings from Starvation—Death of a
Ringleader—Arrival in Ireland—Suspicious Circumstances—Baffin’s
Voyages—Danish Expeditions to Greenland—Jens Munk and his
Unfortunate Companions—Sixty-one Persons Starved to Death—Voyage
of three Survivors Across the Atlantic—An unkingly King—Death of
Munk—Moxon’s Dutch Beer-house Story—Wood and Flawes—Wreck of
Wood’s Vessel—Knight’s Fatal Expedition—Slow Starvation and Death
of the whole Company—The Middleton and Dobbs’ Agitation—£20,000
offered for the Discovery of the North-west Passage.

So many previous failures do not seem to have discouraged the London
merchants, who, in 1607, renewed the search for a northern route to China
and Japan. Hitherto neither the north-east nor north-west had held out
much hopes of success, and they now determined on a bold and novel attempt
at _sailing over the Pole itself_. For this expedition Henry
Hudson—already known as an experienced and intrepid seaman, and
well-skilled in nautical science—was chosen commander. This adventurous
navigator left Gravesend on May 1st, in a small barque, with only ten men
and a boy. The very name and tonnage of the vessel have been forgotten,
but it is known to have been of the tiniest description. In the second
week of June Hudson fell in with land—a headland of East Greenland—the
weather at the time being foggy, and the sails and shrouds frozen. He
examined other parts of this coast, feeling doubtful whether he might not
reach open water to the northward, and sail round Greenland, a voyage
never made up to this day. Later he reached Spitzbergen, where the ice to
the north utterly baffled all his efforts to force a passage, and being
short of supplies, he set sail for England. Next year we find him
attempting a north-east passage. He landed on Nova Zembla, and as he says
himself, his “purpose was by the Waygats (Strait) to passe by the mouth of
the river Ob (or Obi), and to double that way the north cape of Tartaria,
or to give reasons wherefore it will not be.” Finding quantities of morse
or walrus, he delayed somewhat, hoping to defray part of the expenses of
the voyage by obtaining ivory. Meantime he despatched a party up a large
river flowing from the north-eastward, fancying, apparently, that it was
an arm of the sea, which might lead them to the solution of the problem
they sought. On this voyage, “one of our company,” says Hudson, “looking
overboard, saw a mermaid, and calling up some of the companie to see her
once more come up, and by that time shee was come close to the ship’s
side, looking earnestly on the men; a little after a sea came and
overturned her; from the navill upwards her backe and breasts were like a
woman’s (as they say that saw her), her body as big as one of us; her skin
very white, and long haire hanging down behind, of colour blacke; in her
going downe they saw her tayle, which was like the tayle of a porposse,
and speeckled like a macrell. Their names that saw her were Thomas Hilles
and Robert Rayner.” All this is only another version of some walrus story.
On this as on the previous voyage, Hudson made some observations on the
inclination or “dip” of the magnetic needle, and he is probably the first
Englishman who had done so.

The following year (1609) we find Hudson on a third voyage of discovery,
in the service of the Dutch. His movements were very erratic, and the only
record left us does not explain them. He first doubled the North Cape, as
though again in quest of the north-east passage; then turned westward to
Newfoundland; thence again south as far as Charleston (South Carolina);
then north to Cape Cod, soon after which he discovered the beautiful
Hudson River, at the mouth of which New York is now situated. Hudson’s
fourth and last voyage is that most intimately associated with his name on
account of the cruel tragedy which terminated his life, and lost England
one of her bravest and most energetic explorers.

Several gentlemen of influence, among them Sir John Wolstenholme and Sir
Dudley Digges, were so satisfied of the feasibility of making the
north-west passage, that they fitted out a vessel at their own expense,
and gave the command to Henry Hudson. For reasons which will appear as we
proceed, the accounts of the voyage itself are meagre. We know, however,
that he discovered the Strait and “Mediterranean” Sea (the latter of which
has since been called a bay, although somewhat improperly), and both of
which still bear his name. The vessel appropriated for this service had
the same name as one of those on Captain Nares’ late expedition—_The
Discovery_—and was of fifty-five tons burden, victualled only, as it
seems, for six months. She left the Thames on April 17th, 1610, and on
June 9th was off the entrance of Frobisher’s Strait, where Hudson was
compelled to ply to the westward, on account of the ice and contrary
winds. During July and the early part of August several islands and
headlands were sighted and named, and at length they discovered a great
strait formed by the north-west point of Labrador and a cluster of
islands, which led them into an extensive sea. Here Hudson’s own testimony
ends, and we are dependent on the narrative of one Abacuk Pricket, which
is perfectly useless as regards any discoveries made, but which is
probably correct as regards the mutiny about to be described, and the
circumstances which preceded and followed it. The reader will, we imagine,
form his own conclusions very speedily in regard to Pricket’s own share in
this brutal transaction, in spite of his constant protestations. The story
in its sequel furnishes a significant example of the condition to which
mutiny and lawlessness on board ship may bring the perpetrators.

Abacuk Pricket says that Hudson, being closely beset in the ice, and
doubtful whether he should ever escape from it, brought out his chart, and
showed the company that he had entered the strait a hundred leagues
further than any Englishman before him, and, in spite of the dangers, very
naturally wished to follow up his discoveries. He, however, put it to them
whether they should sail forward or turn the ship’s head towards England.
No decision appears to have been obtained, some wishing themselves at
home, and others, sailor-like, saying they cared not where they were so
long as they were out of the ice. The narrator admits, however, that
“there were some who then spake words which were remembered a great while
after.”

The slumbering embers of mutiny appear to have been first fanned into a
flame when Hudson displaced the mate and boatswain “for words spoken when
in the ice,” and appointed others. Still sailing southward, they entered a
bay on Michaelmas day, and here the discontent was increased by Hudson
insisting on weighing the anchor, while the crew was desirous of remaining
there. Having voyaged for three months “in a labyrinth without end,” they
at length, on November 1st, found a suitable place to winter, and were
soon frozen in. Hudson had taken into his house in London, apparently from
sheer kindheartedness, a young man named Greene, of good and respectable
parentage, but of a very dissolute and abandoned life, and had brought him
to act as a kind of captain’s clerk on this voyage. Greene was most
undoubtedly an irreclaimable vagabond, as well as a most ungrateful
person. He quarrelled with the surgeon and others on board, and was the
leading conspirator in the mutinous proceedings against his benefactor,
which were now fast ripening to a conclusion. Pricket speaks well of his
“manhood”—which it is to be hoped he meant only as regarded his physical
qualifications—“but for religion, he would say he was cleane paper,
whereon he might write what he would.” Although the ship’s provisions were
nearly exhausted, they obtained, during the first three months, as many as
a hundred dozen white partridges, and, with more difficulty, in the early
spring, a few swans, geese, and ducks. A little later these failed them,
and they were reduced to eating moss and frogs. Later again, when the ice
broke up, seven men were sent out with the boat, and returned with five
hundred fish as big as good herrings. They were, however, unsuccessful
afterwards, and when the ship left the bay in which they had wintered, had
nothing left but short rations of bread for a fortnight, and five cheeses
which gave three pounds and a half to each man. These were carefully and
fairly divided by Hudson, and, as we are told in the narrative, “he wept
when he gave it unto them.”

The vessel stood to the north-west, and on June 21st, 1611, while
entangled in the drift ice, Pricket says that Wilson the boatswain and
Greene came to him and told him that they and the crew meant to turn the
master and all the sick into the boat, and leave them to shift for
themselves; that they had not eaten anything for three days, that there
were not fourteen days’ provisions left for the whole crew, and that they
were determined “either to mend or end; and what they had begun they would
go through with it or die.” Pricket says that he attempted to dissuade
them, but that they threatened him, and Greene bade him hold his tongue,
for he himself would rather be hanged at home than starved abroad. A
little later, five or six of the mutineers came to Pricket—he lying, as he
says, lame in his cabin—and administered the following oath to him:—“You
shall swear truth to God, your prince, and country; you shall do nothing
but to the glory of God, and the good of the action in hand, and harm to
no man.” The signification of all this soon appeared, for on Hudson coming
out of the cabin they seized him, and bound his arms behind him. He
demanded what they meant, when he was told that he would find out when he
was in the boat. The boat was hauled alongside, and Hudson, his son, and
seven “sicke and lame men” were hustled into it; a fowling-piece, some
powder and shot, a few pikes, an iron pot, a little meal, and some other
articles, were thrown in at the same time. Only one man, John King, the
carpenter, had the courage to face these fiends in human shape, and
remonstrate with them. He wasted his words and efforts, and, determining
not to abandon his captain, jumped into the boat, and the mutineers cut it
adrift among the ice. We know the horrors that have overtaken strong and
hearty men when obliged to trust to the boats in mid-ocean; in this case,
of ten persons seven at least were helpless and crippled; and sad as is
the fact, we can hardly wonder to find that nothing was ever gleaned
concerning their fate. One shudders to think of their hopeless and
inevitable doom, and that among them was lost one of the bravest and most
intrepid of England’s seamen.

But to this Arctic tragedy there was a sequel. As soon as the boat was out
of sight Pricket says that Greene came to him and told him that he,
Pricket, had been elected captain, and that he should take the master’s
cabin, which he pretends that he did with great reluctance. The mutineers
soon began to quarrel about their course, and were for a whole fortnight
shut in the ice, at the end of which time their provisions were all gone.
They had to subsist on cockle-grass, which they found on some neighbouring
islands. They now began to fear that England would be no safe place for
them, and blustering “Henry Greene swore the shippe should not come into
any place but keep the sea still, till he had the king’s majesties hand
and seale to shew for his safety.” Greene shortly after dispossessed
Pricket, and became captain, a position he did not enjoy long. Going
ashore on an island near Cape Digges to get some more grass and shoot some
gulls, a quarrel ensued with a number of the natives, wherein Greene was
killed, and three others died shortly afterwards from wounds received in
the scuffle. Pricket, after fighting bravely, according to his own
statement, was also severely wounded. The survivors were now in a fearful
plight, and, except some sea-fowl which they managed to procure, were
almost entirely without provisions. They, however, stood out to sea,
shaping their course for Ireland. At length all their supplies were gone,
and they were reduced to eating candles and fried skins and bones. Just
before reaching Galloway Bay one of the chief mutineers died of sheer
starvation.

[Illustration: IN SMITH’S SOUND.]

Such are the main points of Pricket’s story, and possibly out of
compassion for the sufferings they had undoubtedly endured, no inquiry or
punishment followed their arrival. But a very suspicious circumstance has
to be related: Hudson’s journal, instead of terminating at the date, June
21st, on which he was thrust into the boat, finished on August 3rd of the
previous year. Pricket had charge of the master’s chest, and there can be
little doubt but that all portions of the journal which might have
implicated them had been destroyed. A subsequent navigator shrewdly
remarks of these transactions: “Well, Pricket, I am in great doubt of thy
fidelity to Master Hudson.” Nevertheless, his character seems not to have
suffered in the eyes of the merchant adventurers; for we find him employed
next year in a voyage under Captain (afterwards Sir) Thomas Button, one
object of which seems to have been to follow Hudson’s track. They
discovered and wintered in Hudson’s River, but found no traces of the
great navigator or his unfortunate companions. James Hall, who in 1612
left England on a voyage of northern discovery, and was mortally wounded
by the dart of a Greenland Esquimaux, was accompanied by William Baffin,
one of the most scientific navigators of his time. This expedition is
noteworthy for having been the first on record where _longitudes_ were
taken by observation of the heavenly bodies. Baffin accompanied Bylot in
1615 on a voyage to the north-west. After sighting and leaving Greenland,
many enormous icebergs were met, some upwards of two hundred feet out of
the water. Baffin records one two hundred and forty feet high above the
sea, and says that on the usual computation,(25) it must have been “one
thousand sixe hundred and eightie foote from the top to the bottome.” A
voyage made by the same navigators in 1616 is principally interesting on
account of the discovery of Sir Thomas Smythe’s (now-a-days abbreviated to
“plain” Smith) Sound. About this period also the pursuit of the whale and
walrus was creating great attention from the large profits accruing to the
merchants and companies engaged in it. Baffin accompanied an expedition
sent out by the Muscovy Company, consisting of six ships and a pinnace,
and off Spitzbergen they encountered no less than eight Spanish, four
French, two Dutch, and some Biscayan vessels. Nevertheless, “the English
having taken possession of the whole country in the name of his Majesty,
prohibited all the others from fishing, and sent them away, excepting such
as they were pleased to grant leave to remain.” Baffin expected that the
Spanish would, at all events, have objected to this rather high-handed
course, and “fought with us, but they submitted themselves unto the
generall.” About this period there was a very large number of more or less
important voyages made, which may be termed of a mixed character. Although
sent out for purely commercial purposes, they were the means of adding
something to our knowledge of geography. Baffin made more than one voyage
after this, accompanying one whaling expedition which consisted of ten
ships and two pinnaces. The results of some of these voyages will be more
particularly mentioned when we come to consider the inhabitants of the
Sea.

In 1619 Christian IV. of Denmark sent out an expedition to Greenland, and
for northern discovery generally, under the command of Jens Munk, an
experienced seaman. The two vessels employed were mainly manned by English
sailors who had served on previous Arctic voyages. Munk left Elsinore on
May 18th, and a month afterwards made Cape Farewell. He endeavoured to
stand up Davis’s Strait, but the ice preventing he retraced his course,
eventually passing through Hudson’s Strait, to which, with the northern
part of Hudson’s Bay, he attached new names, in apparent ignorance of
previous discoveries. He made the coast of America in latitude 63° 20’,
where he was compelled to seek shelter in an opening of the land, which he
named Munk’s Winter Harbour. To the surrounding country he gave the name
of New Denmark. The year being advanced—it was now September 7th—huts were
immediately constructed, and his company were at first very successful in
obtaining game—partridges, hares, foxes, and white bears. Several mock
suns were observed, and on December 18th an eclipse of the moon occurred,
during which this luminary was surrounded by a transparent circle, within
which was a cross quartering the moon. This phenomenon was regarded with
alarm, and as a harbinger of the misfortunes which soon followed. The
weather was intensely cold; their wine, beer, and brandy, were frozen, and
the casks burst. The scurvy made its appearance in virulent form, and a
Danish authority states it was mostly occasioned by the too free use of
spirituous liquors. Their bread and provisions became exhausted, and none
of them had strength to hunt or seek other supplies. One by one they
succumbed, till out of sixty-four persons hardly one remained. When Munk,
who, reduced to a skeleton, had remained for some time alone in a little
hut in an utterly hopeless and broken-hearted condition, ventured to crawl
out, he found only two others alive. But the spring had come, and, making
one last effort, they went forth, and removing the snow found some roots
and plants, which they eagerly devoured. They succeeded in obtaining a few
fish, and, later, killed some birds. Their strength returning, they
equipped the smaller vessel as well as they were able, and set sail on an
apparently hopeless voyage, but in spite of storms and other perils
succeeded at length in reaching Norway, where they were received as men
risen from the grave. Munk must have possessed an undaunted spirit, for we
find him almost immediately proposing to make an attempt at the north-west
passage, in spite of all the sufferings he had just undergone. A
subscription was raised, and a vessel prepared. On taking leave of the
court, the king, in admonishing him to be more cautious, appeared to
ascribe the loss of his crew to some mismanagement. Munk replied hotly,
and the king, forgetting his own proper dignity, struck the brave
navigator with a cane. The old sailor left the presence of this unkingly
king, smarting under a sense of outrage which he could not forget; and we
are told that he took to his bed and died of a broken heart very shortly
afterwards. The story, however, is discredited by some authorities. Some
thirty years later Denmark again furnished an expedition, under the
command of Captain Danells, to explore East Greenland. He could rarely
approach the ice-girt coast nearer than eighteen or twenty miles, and
subsequent attempts have been little more successful.

[Illustration: MOCK SUNS.]

The establishment of the Hudson’s Bay Company, in 1669, appears to have
diverted the spirit of adventure and discovery from the far north, and we
hear of few voyages to the Arctic at this period, and for some time
afterwards, although the discovery of a northern passage to the Pacific is
really included in the objects for which the charter to that Corporation
was granted.

One attempt at a north-eastern passage in 1676 deserves to be mentioned,
principally on account of the circumstances which brought it about. There
was a considerable amount of rivalry in the East Indian, Chinese, and
Japanese trade at that time, between the Dutch and ourselves, and some
reports had reached England that a company of merchants in Holland was
agitating the subject of a north-eastern passage to the Orient once more.
Further, Mr. Joseph Moxon, a Fellow of the Royal Society, had just
published his “Brief Discourse,” wherein he records the following story,
from which he concluded “that there is a free and open sea under the very
pole.” “Being about twenty-two years ago in Amsterdam,” says he, “I went
into a drinking-house to drink a cup of beer for my thirst, and sitting by
the public fire among several people, there happened a seaman to come in,
who seeing a friend of his there whom he knew went in the Greenland
voyage, wondered to see him, because it was not yet time for the Greenland
fleet to come home, and asked him what accident brought him home so soon;
his friend (who was the steer-man aforesaid in a Greenland ship that
summer) told him that their ship went not out to fish that summer but only
to take in the lading of the whole fleet, and bring it to an early market.
But, said he, before the fleet had caught fish enough to lade us, we, by
order of the Greenland Company, sailed unto the north pole, and came back
again. Whereupon (his relation being novel to me) I entered into discourse
with him, and seemed to question the truth of what he said; but he did
ensure me it was true, and that the ship was then in Amsterdam, and many
of the seamen belonging to her to justify the truth of it; and told me,
moreover, that they had sailed two degrees beyond the Pole.” The Hollander
also stated that they had an open sea, free from ice, and that the weather
was warm. Whatever amount of truth there might be in this beerhouse story,
its publication had an influence at the time, and an expedition, partly
provided by the Government and partly by the Duke of York and several
other noblemen and gentlemen, was despatched at the end of May, 1676. The
_Speedwell_ and _Prosperous_, under the command respectively of Captains
Wood and Flawes, were the vessels employed. The first struck on a ledge of
rocks off Nova Zembla, and Wood had scarcely time to get the bread and
carpenter’s tools ashore before she went to pieces. Two of the crew were
lost, and the rest safely landed. They had almost concluded to attempt a
boat voyage, similar to that made by the brave Hollanders of Barents’
third expedition, when the _Prosperous_, attracted by a great fire which
they had made on the shore, hove in sight, and took them on board. The two
crews reached England safely, and the voyage, in the words of a
distinguished writer, “seems to have closed the long list of unfortunate
northern expeditions in that century; and the discovery, if not absolutely
despaired of, by being so often missed, ceased for many years to be sought
for.”

Nor did the eighteenth century open much more auspiciously. Mr. Knight, an
old servant of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and for a long time governor of
their leading establishment on Nelson’s River, had learned from the
Indians that in the extreme north of their territory, and on the banks of
a navigable river, there was a rich mine of native copper. Knight was so
impressed with the value of this information, that, after much trouble, he
induced the Company to send out an expedition for the purpose of
investigating the matter. Knight himself, nearly eighty years of age, had
a general charge of the expedition, the vessels of which were commanded by
Captains Barlow and Vaughan. The expedition left in the spring of 1719,
and never returned; it was not till forty-eight years afterwards that any
information was gleaned concerning the melancholy fate of the whole party.
In the year 1767 some of the Company’s men employed in whaling near Marble
Island stood in close to the shore, where in a harbour they discovered the
remains of a house, the hulls of two ships under water, and guns, anchors,
cables, an anvil, and other heavy articles, which had not been removed by
the natives. The following, from a work by Samuel Hearne,(26) sufficiently
indicates the misery to which the party had been reduced, before death
terminated their sufferings. It was obtained through the medium of an
Esquimaux interpreter from the natives.

When the vessels arrived at Marble Island it was very late in the fall,
and in getting them into the harbour the largest received much damage, but
on being fairly in the English began to build the house; their number at
that time seeming to be about fifty. As soon as the ice permitted in the
following summer (1720), the Esquimaux paid them another visit, by which
time the number of the English was very greatly reduced, and those that
were living seemed very unhealthy. According to the account given by the
Esquimaux, they were then very busily employed, but about what they could
not easily describe, probably in lengthening the long boat, for at a
little distance from the house there was now lying a great quantity of oak
chips, which had been made most assuredly by carpenters.

A sickness and famine occasioned such havoc among the English that by the
setting in of the second winter their number was reduced to twenty. That
winter (1720) some of the Esquimaux took up their abode on the opposite
side of the harbour to that on which the English had built their houses,
and frequently supplied them with such provisions as they had, which
chiefly consisted of whale’s blubber, seal’s flesh, and train oil. When
the spring advanced the Esquimaux went to the continent, and on their
visiting Marble Island again, in the summer of 1721, they only found five
of the English alive, and those were in such distress for provisions that
they eagerly ate the seal’s flesh and whale’s blubber quite raw as they
purchased it from the natives. This disordered them so much that three of
them died in a few days, and the other two, though very weak, made a shift
to bury them. Those two survived many days after the rest, and frequently
went to the top of an adjacent rock and earnestly looked to the south and
east, as if in expectation of some vessels coming to their relief. After
continuing there a considerable time together, and nothing appearing in
sight, they sat down close together and wept bitterly. At length one of
the two died, and the other’s strength was so far exhausted that he fell
down and died also in attempting to dig a grave for his companion.

[Illustration: THE REMNANTS OF KNIGHT’S EXPEDITION.]

In 1741 Captain Middleton made a northern voyage of little importance, and
on his return was publicly accused by one Mr. Arthur Dobbs, of having
acted in bad faith to the Government, and of having taken a bribe of
£5,000 from the Hudson’s Bay Company, his old employers, not to make
discoveries. The captain denied having accepted any bribe, but almost
admitted that he had said no one should be much the wiser if he did make
the north-west passage. The agitation, however, stirred by Dobbs, led to
the passing of an Act of Parliament offering the large sum of £20,000 for
the discovery of a north-western route to the Indies. Two vessels—the
_Dobb’s Galley_ and _California_—were equipped by subscription, and left
in the spring of 1746. The expedition wintered near Fort York, but
although absent seventeen months, virtually accomplished nothing. The
result was that the ardour of the public as well as of explorers received
a decided check, and for nearly thirty years we hear of no Arctic voyage
being despatched for purposes of discovery.

CHAPTER XVI.

Paucity of Arctic Expeditions in the Eighteenth Century—Phipps’
Voyage—Walls of Ice—Ferocious Sea-horses—A Beautiful
Glacier—Cook’s Voyage—A Fresh Attempt—Extension of the Government
Rewards—Cape Prince of Wales—Among the Tchuktchis—Icy Cape—Baffled
by the Ice—Russian Voyages—The Two Unconquerable Capes—Peter the
Great—Behring’s Voyages—Discovery of the Straits—The Third
Voyage—Scurvy and Shipwreck—Death of the Commander—New Siberia—The
Ivory Islands.

The eighteenth century was not remarkable for the number of northern
voyages instigated in England for geographical research. This was partly
due to the many previous failures, but still more to important discoveries
which were being made in other parts of the world, and which for the time
threw Arctic adventure in the shade. The land and river expeditions of
Samuel Hearne and Alexander Mackenzie to the shores or neighbourhood of
the Arctic Ocean do not come within the scope of this work, and strong
doubts have been expressed as to whether either of these explorers really
reached salt water, although both were undoubtedly near it.

The northern voyage of Captain Constantine John Phipps (afterwards Lord
Mulgrave) deserves some notice, inasmuch as it was a distinct attempt to
reach the North Pole. The Hon. Daines Barrington and others had, prior to
1773, agitated the subject before the Royal Society, and the President and
Council of that learned body had memorialised the Government to fit out an
expedition for the purpose, which His Majesty was pleased to direct should
be immediately undertaken. Two vessels, the _Racehorse_ and the _Carcass_,
were selected, the former having ninety and the second eighty men on
board. The ships left the Nore on June 10th, 1773, and seventeen days
later had reached the latitude of the southern part of Spitzbergen,
without having met ice or experiencing cold. But from the 5th of July
onwards, when off Spitzbergen, they met immense fields, almost “one
compact, impenetrable body,” and the most heroic and persevering efforts
failed to penetrate it or find an opening. In Waigatz Strait, where some
of the officers landed on a low, flat island, large fir-trees, roots and
all, and in other cases timber which had been hewn with an axe, were
noticed on the shore. These had, undoubtedly, drifted out from some of the
great rivers of the mainland. While here they wounded a sea-horse, which
immediately dived, and brought up a whole army of others to the rescue.
They attacked the boat, which was nearly upset and stove in, and wrested
an oar from one of the sailors.

[Illustration: ENCOUNTER WITH SEA-HORSES.]

On July 30th the weather was exceedingly lovely, and the scene around
them, says Captain Phipps, “beautiful and picturesque; the two ships
becalmed in a large bay, with three apparent openings between the islands
that formed it, but everywhere surrounded with ice as far as we could see,
with some streams of water; not a breath of air; the water perfectly
smooth; the ice covered with snow, low and even, except a few broken
pieces near the edges; the pools of water in the middle of the pieces were
frozen over with young ice.” On August 1st the ice began to press in, and
places which had before been flat and almost level with the water were
forced _higher than the main-yards_ of the vessels. The crews were set to
work to try and cut out the ships, and they sawed through ice sometimes as
much as twelve feet thick, but without effecting their escape. Meantime
the ships drifted with the ice into fourteen fathoms, and Captain Phipps,
greatly alarmed, at one time proposed to abandon the ships and betake to
the boats. On August 7th, keeping their launch out and ready for
emergencies, they crowded all sail on the vessels, and three days later,
after incurring much danger, reached the open water, and anchored in Fair
Haven, Spitzbergen. A remarkably grand iceberg,(27) or, more properly,
glacier, was observed here. The face towards the sea was nearly
perpendicular, and about 300 feet high, with a cascade of water issuing
from it. The contrast of the dark mountains and white snow, with the
beautiful green colour of the near ice, made a very pleasing and uncommon
picture. Phipps describes an iceberg which had floated from this glacier
and grounded in twenty-four fathoms (144 feet). It was fifty feet above
the surface of the water.

Captain Phipps did not pursue his investigations farther, but bore for
England, which he reached late in September. The unfavourable termination
of his voyage did not deter the Government from other efforts. Another
voyage was ordered, and the celebrated navigator, Captain James Cook,
appointed to the command. The object was to attempt once more the
north-west passage, but in a new manner. Hitherto all efforts had been
made from the Atlantic side; on this occasion the plan was reversed, and
the vessels were to enter the Polar seas from the Pacific Ocean. The two
vessels employed, the _Resolution_ and _Discovery_, are now historically
famous from the extensive voyages made in them, in the Pacific more
particularly. The first was commanded by Cook, and the latter by Captain
Clerke. By an Act of Parliament then outstanding a reward of £20,000 was
held out to ships belonging to any of His Majesty’s subjects which should
make the passage, but it excluded the vessels of the Royal Navy. This was
now amended to include His Majesty’s ships, and a further reward of £5,000
offered to any vessel which should approach within one degree of the North
Pole.

The two ships, after making many discoveries in the Pacific, entered
Behring Strait on August 9th, 1779, and anchored near a point of land
which has been subsequently found to be the extreme western point of North
America, and to which Cook gave the name Cape Prince of Wales. Some
elevations, like stages, and others like huts, were seen on this part of
the coast, and they thought also that some people were visible. A little
later Cook stood over to the Asiatic coast, where, entering a large bay,
he found a village of the natives known now-a-days as Tchuktchis. They
were found to be peaceable and civil, and several interchanges of presents
were made.

In 1865 and 1866 the writer of these pages, when in the service of the
Russian-American Telegraph Expedition, had an opportunity of visiting an
almost identical village in Plover Bay, Eastern Siberia.(28) The bay
itself, sometimes called Port Providence, has generally passed by the
former name since the visit of H.M.S. _Plover_, which laid up there in the
winter of 1848-9, when employed on the search for Sir John Franklin. Bare
cliffs and rugged mountains hem it in on three sides, and a long spit, on
which the native village is situated, shelters it on the ocean (or Behring
Sea) side. The Tchuktchis live in skin tents. _The remains of underground
houses are seen, but the people who used them have passed away._ The
present race makes no use of such houses. Although their skin dwellings
appear outwardly rough, and are patched with every variety of hide—walrus,
seal, and reindeer—with here and there a fragment of a sail obtained from
the whalers, they are in reality constructed over frames built of the
larger bones of whales and walruses, and very admirably put together. In
this most exposed of villages the wintry blasts must be fearful, yet these
people are to be found there at all seasons. Wood they have none,(29) and
blubber lamps are the only means they have for warming their tents. The
frames of some of their skin canoes are also of bone. On either side of
these craft, which are the counterpart of the Greenland canoes it is usual
to find a sealskin blown out tight and the ends secured. These serve as
floats to steady the canoe. They have very strong fishing-nets, made of
thin strips of walrus hide.

[Illustration: TCHUKTCHI INDIANS BUILDING A HUT.]

The Tchuktchis are a strongly-built race, although the inhabitants of this
particular village, from intercourse with whaling vessels, have been much
demoralised. One of these natives was seen carrying the awkward burden of
a carpenter’s chest weighing two hundred pounds without apparently
considering it a great exertion. They are a good-humoured people, and not
greedier than the average of natives; they are very generally honest. They
were of much service to a large party of men who wintered there in 1866-7,
at the period when it was proposed to cross Behring Straits with a
submarine cable in connection with the land lines then partly under
construction by the Western Union Telegraph Company of America.

“The children are so tightly sewn up in reindeer-skin clothing that they
look like walking bags, and tumble about with the greatest impunity. All
of these people wear skin coats, pantaloons, and boots, excepting only on
high days in summer, when you may see a few old garments of more civilised
appearance that have seen better days, and have been traded off by the
sailors of vessels calling there.

“The true Tchuktchi method of smoking is to swallow all the fumes of the
tobacco; and I have seen them after six or eight pulls at a pipe fall
back, completely intoxicated for the time being. Their pipes are
infinitely larger in the stem than in the bowl; the latter, indeed, holds
an infinitesimally small amount of tobacco.

“It is said that the Tchuktchis murder the old and feeble, but only with
the victim’s consent! They do not appear to indulge in any unnecessary
cruelty, but endeavour to stupify the aged sacrifice before letting a
vein. This is said to be done by putting some substance up the nostrils;
but the whole statement must be received with caution, although we derived
it from a shrewd native who had been much employed by the captains of
vessels in the capacity of interpreter, and who could speak in broken
English.

“This native, by name ‘Nau-Kum,’ was of service on various occasions, and
was accordingly much petted by us. Some of his remarks are worthy of
record. On being taken down into the engine-room of the steamer _Wright_,
he examined it carefully, and then shaking his head, said solemnly, ‘_Too_
muchee wheel, makee man too muchee think!’ His curiosity when on board was
unappeasable. ‘What’s that fellow?’ was his constant query with regard to
anything, from the ‘donkey-engine’ to the mainmast. On one occasion he
heard two men discussing rather warmly, and could not at all understand
such unnecessary excitement. ‘That fellow crazy?’ said he. Colonel Bulkley
(engineer-in-chief of the telegraph enterprise) gave him a suit of clothes
with gorgeous brass buttons, and many other presents. The whalers use such
men on occasions as pilots, traders, and interpreters, and to Naukum in
particular I know as much as five barrels of villanous whiskey have been
entrusted, for which he accounted satisfactorily. The truth-loving
Chippewa, when asked, ‘Are you a Christian Indian?’ promptly replied, ‘No,
I whishkey Injen!’ and the truthful Tchuktchi would say the same. They all
appear to be intensely fond of spirits. The traders sell them liquors of
the most horrible kind, not much superior to the ‘coal oil’ or ‘kerosene’
used for lamps.” So much for natives, who, in Captain Cook’s time, were
doubtless much more innocent and unsophisticated.

To resume our narrative: Cook again crossed to the northern American
coast, and on August 17th reached a point encumbered with ice, which
formed an impenetrable field. To this point he gave the name Icy Cape, and
it was the furthest east he was able to proceed. While he made every
effort to fulfil the object of his mission he was baffled at every point,
and on August 30th he turned the vessels’ bows southward. After many
explorations of both the Asiatic and American coasts, it will be
remembered that he lost his life at the Sandwich Islands. He was succeeded
by Captain Clerke, who in 1779 again attempted to make the passage, but
with even less success than had been attained by Captain Cook.

In order that the various sections of this subject should not become
confused or involved, mention of many Russian voyages, which had for their
aim the exploration of the coasts of Northern Asia, and among which were
several direct attempts at making the north-east passage, has been
purposely omitted till now. As early as 1648 Deshneff undoubtedly made a
voyage from the mouth of the Kolyma round the extreme eastern point of
Asia, and through Behring Straits to the Anadyr. In very early times the
Russians used to creep along the coast at the other end of the continent,
from Archangel to the Obi, and in the eighteenth century, in particular,
many efforts were made to extend the explorations eastward. In brief,
several explorers, Lieutenants Maravief, Malgyn, and Shurakoff, between
the years 1734 and 1738, sailed from Archangel to the Obi, doubling the
promontory; Lieutenant Koskelof made a successful voyage from the Obi to
the Yenesei in 1738; and in 1735 Lieutenant Pronchishchef, who was
accompanied by his wife, got very close to Cape Chelyuskin (or North-east
Cape) on its eastern side, his vessel being frozen in near that point.
Both himself and his wife died there. In 1742 Lieutenant Chelyuskin
reached the northernmost cape, which bears his name, by a sledge journey.
The North East Cape (Cape Chelyuskin) and the neighbouring Cape Taimyr(30)
had never been rounded, till Professor Nordenskjöld only the other day
succeeded in passing both, thus making the long-sought north-east passage.
From the Lena eastward to the Kolyma voyages have often been made, and, as
we have seen, Deshneff had completed the circuit of the coast from the
Kolyma eastward at a very early period. The records of this voyage were
entirely overlooked for a century, when they were unearthed at Yakutsk, in
Siberia, by Müller, the historian of the voyages about to be narrated.

Inseparably connected with the history of Arctic voyages are those of
Vitus Behring, an explorer who deserves to rank among the greatest of his
century, although his several adventurous attempts are comparatively
little known. Behring was a Dane who had been attracted into the Russian
service by the fame of Peter the Great, and his expeditions had been
directly planned by that enterprising and sagacious monarch. The emperor,
however, did not live to see them consummated. Their main objects were to
determine whether Asia and America did or did not join at some northern
point and form one continent; and if detached, how nearly the coasts
approached each other. “The Empress Catherine,” says Müller, the historian
of Behring’s life, “as she endeavoured in all points to execute most
precisely the plans of her deceased husband, in a manner began her reign
with an order for the expedition to Kamtschatka.” Behring was appointed
commander, having associated with him Lieutenants Spanberg and
Tschirikoff. They took their final orders on February 5th, 1725, and
proceeded overland through Siberia to the Ochotsk Sea. It certainly gives
some idea of the difficult nature of the trip in those days when we find
that it occupied them _two years_ to transport their stores and outfit to
Ochotsk. A vessel was specially constructed, in which they crossed to
Bolcheretsk, in Kamchatka,(31) and the following winter their provisions
and naval stores were transported to Nishni (new) Kamchatka, a small town,
or rather village, which is still one of the few settlements in that great
peninsula. “On the 4th of April, 1728,” says Müller, “a boat was put upon
the stocks, like the packet-boats used in the Baltick, and on the 10th of
July was launched, and named the boat _Gabriel_.” On the 20th of the same
month Behring left the river, and following the east coasts of Kamchatka
and Siberia, reached as far north as 67° 18’ in the straits which now bear
his name. Here, finding the land trend to the west, he came to the
conclusion that he had reached the extreme point of Asia, and that the
continent of America, although contiguous, did not join it. Of course we
know that in the latter and main point he was right. He discovered St.
Laurence Island, and in the autumn returned successfully to the town from
which he had sailed. In a second voyage contrary winds baffled all his
efforts to reach and examine the coasts of America, and eventually he
doubled the southern point of Kamchatka, and returned viâ the Siberian
overland route to St. Petersburg.

It is to the third voyage of Behring that the greatest interest attaches.
His first attempt had been successful in its main object, and both the
leader and his officers were fired with an ambition to distinguish
themselves in further explorations. Müller says:—“The design of the first
voyage was not brought on the carpet again upon this occasion, since it
was looked upon as completed; but instead of that, orders were given to
make voyages, as well eastward to the continent of America as southward to
Japan, and to discover, if possible, at the same time, _through the frozen
sea the north passage_ (the italics are ours—ED.), which had been so
frequently attempted by the English and Dutch. The Senate, the Admiralty
Office, and the Academy of Sciences, all took their parts to complete this
important undertaking.” Behring and his faithful lieutenants were
promoted, and a number of naval officers were ordered to join the
expedition. Several scientific professors, John George Gmelin, Lewis de
Lisle de la Croyère, S. Müller, and one Steller, a student, volunteered to
accompany Behring. Two of these latter never went to sea—a probably
fortunate circumstance for themselves, as the sequel will show—but
confined themselves to land researches in Siberia.

After long and tedious journeyings, and great trouble in transporting
their stores across the dreary wilds of Siberia, they at length reached
Petropaulovski, Kamchatka, and having constructed vessels, left that port
on July 4th, 1741, on their eventful voyage. Early in its history the
ships became separated during the continuance of a terrible gale. Behring
discovered many of the Aleutian and other islands nearer the American
coast. The scurvy making its appearance, this brave commander endeavoured
to return to Kamchatka. The sickness increased, and they became so
exhausted that “two sailors who used to be at the rudder were obliged to
be led in by two others who could hardly walk. And when one could sit and
steer no longer, another, in little better condition, supplied his place.
Many sails they durst not hoist, because there was nobody to lower them in
case of need.” At last land appeared, and they endeavoured to sail towards
it; getting near it, the anchor was dropped. A violent gale arose, and the
vessel was driven on the rocks, which she touched; they cast a second
anchor, but its cable was snapped before it took ground. Their little
barque was thrown bodily over the rocks by a sea which threatened to
overwhelm them, but, fortunately, inside the reef the water was calmer,
and the crew, having rested, managed to launch their boat, and some of
them reached the shore. There was scarcely any drift-wood on the beach,
and no trees on the island; hence they determined to roof over some small
ravines or gullies near the beach. On the “8th of November a beginning was
made to land the sick, but some died as soon as they were brought from
between-decks in the open air, others during the time they were on the
deck, some in the boat, and many more as soon as they were brought on
shore.” The following day the commander, Behring—himself terribly
prostrated with scurvy—was brought ashore on a hand-barrow, and a month
later died on the island which is now known by his name. “He may be said
to have been buried half alive, for the sand rolling down continually from
the side of the ditch in which he lay, and covering his feet, he at last
would not suffer it to be removed, and said that he felt some warmth from
it, which otherwise he should want in the remaining parts of his body; and
thus the sand increased to his belly, so that after his decease they were
obliged to scrape him out of the ground in order to inter him in a proper
manner.” Poor Behring! It was a melancholy end for an explorer so great.

Their vessel, lying unprotected, became an utter wreck, and the larger
part of their stores and provisions was lost. They subsisted for a
considerable time on dead whales which had been driven ashore. At last, in
the spring they resolved to construct a small vessel from the wreck, which
was at length completed, and they left the dreary scene of their
sufferings. Never were shipwrecked mariners more rejoiced than when once
more they sighted and reached the coast of Kamchatka. Behring’s companion,
Tschirikoff, had preceded them the previous autumn, having lost twenty-one
men by scurvy; and the Professor de la Croyère, who had lingered till the
last moment, died in sight of Petropaulovski.

In 1770 a Russian merchant, named Liakhof, crossed on the ice from the
mainland to the islands in the Polar Ocean which now bear his name,
although sometimes called New Siberia. Immense quantities of mammoth bones
were discovered, and he obtained from the Empress Catherine the exclusive
right of digging for them. As late as the year 1821 as much as nine to ten
tons per annum of this fossil ivory were being obtained from this source.
Hedenström, in 1809, and Anjou, in 1821, examined these islands in detail.
The latter travelled out on the ice to a considerable distance north of
the islands, and found _open water_.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EXPEDITIONS OF ROSS AND PARRY.

Remarkable Change in the Greenland Ice-fields—Immense Icebergs
found out of their Latitude—Ross the First’s
Expedition—Festivities among the Danes—Interviews with
Esquimaux—Crimson Snow—A Mythical Discovery—The Croker
Mountains—Buchan’s Expedition—Bursting of Icebergs—Effects of
Concussion—The Creation of an Iceberg—Spitzbergen in
Summer—Animated Nature—Millions of Birds—Refuge in an
Ice-pack—Parry and his Exploits—His Noble Character—First Arctic
Voyage—Sails over the Croker Mountains.

The long series of interesting voyages which have been made to the Arctic
regions during the present century were commenced in 1818, after a
considerable period of inaction and apathy had existed in regard to
northern exploration. The renewal of these attempts was not brought about
by accident or caprice, but was due to a great change, which had been
noted by many whalers and navigators. Sir John Barrow, one of the most
consistent and persistent advocates of Arctic exploration, as well as one
of the most intelligent writers of his day, says: “The event alluded to
was the disappearance of the whole, or greater part, of the vast barrier
of ice which for a long period of time—perhaps for centuries—was supposed
to have maintained its firm-rooted position on the eastern coast of Old
Greenland, and its reappearance in a more southerly latitude, where it was
met with, as was attested by various persons worthy of credit, in the
years 1815, 1816, and 1817, by ships coming from the East Indies and
America, by others going to Halifax and Newfoundland, and in different
parts of the Atlantic, as far down as the 40th parallel of latitude.”
Large islands of ice had impeded some voyagers for days together; icebergs
miles in extent, and from one to two hundred feet high, had been reported.
A vessel had been beset for eleven days on the coast of Labrador in floes
of ice mixed with icebergs, many of which had huge rocks, gravel, soil,
and wood upon them. In short, there was so much testimony from various
sources to the vast break-up which had occurred that it created a great
deal of attention among scientific men and navigators.

It was perfectly understood whence the larger part of this ice must be
derived. Scoresby the younger, in a letter to Sir Joseph Banks, recorded
the fact that some 18,000 square miles of the surface of the Greenland
seas included between the parallels of 74° and 80° were known to be void
of ice, and that this immense change had been effected within two years.
Intelligence received at Copenhagen in 1816 from Iceland indicated that
the ice had broken loose from the opposite coast of Greenland, and floated
away to the southward, after surrounding the shores of Iceland and filling
all the creeks and bays of that island. This was repeated in 1817.

[Illustration: SIR JOHN ROSS.]

The public notice taken of the above facts led to two expeditions being
ordered, the first of which, under Commander (afterwards Sir) John Ross,
was remarkable for the number of officers who accompanied it, and who,
later, acquired distinction in the Arctic explorations of this century.
Parry, J. C. Ross (the commander’s nephew), Sabine (long President of the
Royal Society, and a most distinguished _savan_), then a captain of the
Royal Artillery, Hoppner, and others, were among the number. The ships
employed were the _Isabella_ and _Alexander_, and the commander’s
instructions were to attempt the north-west passage by the western route.

On the 1st of June, 1818, they had reached the eastern side of Davis’s
Strait, but detained by ice, and it was not till the 3rd of the following
month that they arrived at the Women’s Islands. The delay did not prevent
them from having some pleasant intercourse with the Danes and Esquimaux of
the Greenland settlements. Extempore balls were organised, where their
interpreter, Jack Sackhouse (or Saccheous), was of great value. Jack
combined in his person the somewhat discordant qualifications of seaman,
interpreter, draughtsman, and master of ceremonies, with those of a fisher
of seals and a successful hunter of white bears.

A favourable breeze sprang up, and Ross was anxious to leave, as the ice
began to separate. Jack had gone ashore, and when a boat was sent for him
he was found in one of the huts with his collar-bone broken, from having
greatly overloaded and discharged his gun. His idea was, as he expressed
it, “Plenty powder, plenty kill!” Proceeding northward, and passing many
whalers, he examined and named Melville Bay. On August 10th, the ships
being at anchor near shore, eight sledges of Esquimaux were observed, and
Saccheous was despatched with a flag and some presents in order to parley
with them, they being on one side of a field of ice, in which was a canal
or chasm. After much shouting and gesticulating, Saccheous held out his
presents, and called to them in their own language to approach. The reply
was “No, no; go away!” and one man said, “Go away; I can kill you!”
holding up a knife. The interpreter, however, threw them an English knife,
which they accepted, and _pulled their noses_, which Ross represents to
mean a sign of friendship. They soon became more familiar, and pointing to
the ships, asked, “What great creatures these are. Do they come from the
sun or the moon? Do they give us light by day or by night?” To which
Saccheous replied, “They are houses made of wood.” The natives would not
believe this, answering, “No, they are alive; we have seen them move their
wings.” Ross entitles these natives the “Arctic Highlanders.” There is a
good deal of rather doubtful matter in the narrative of Ross, and it is
certainly more than likely that these people had often seen whale-ships.

[Illustration: FISKERNÆS, SOUTH GREENLAND.]

Not far from Cape Dudley Digges Ross observed some of the cliffs covered
with the _crimson_ snow often mentioned in other Arctic narratives, and
indeed noted by Saussure in the Alps. “This snow,” he says, “was
penetrated even down to the rock, in many places to a depth of ten or
twelve feet, by colouring matter.” Some of this having been bottled, was
analysed on their return by Mr. Brande, the celebrated chemist, who,
detecting uric acid, pronounced it to be no other than the excrement of
birds. Other authorities considered it to be of vegetable origin, judging
it to be probably the drainage from some particular kind of moss, the
roots of which are of that colour.

The results of this voyage were not extensive. Ross only reached Sir James
Lancaster’s Sound, where an imaginary discovery of his has since given
rise to much ridicule. He fancied that he saw at the bottom of a bay an
extensive range of mountains, the which he somewhat unfortunately named
after Mr. Croker, the then Secretary of the Admiralty. The site of the
Croker Mountains was a year afterwards sailed over by Parry! It is certain
that either clouds, mirage, or some other phenomenon of nature, had misled
him. A very similar fact was noted by Captain Nares in his expedition.

The second of the two expeditions was that performed under the command of
Captain David Buchan, who had associated with him a number of officers,
including John Franklin, Frederick Beechey, and George Back, who
afterwards distinguished themselves in various branches of the Arctic
service. Buchan himself was a first-rate navigator, particularly well
acquainted with the dangers of the northern seas, more especially on the
Newfoundland station. He had also made a remarkable journey across the ice
and snow of that island in order to communicate with the natives, and was
the first European who had so done. Subsequent to the expedition about to
be recorded, he lost his life on the _Upton Castle_, a vessel making the
voyage from India, and the exact fate of which was never known.

[Illustration: THE “DOROTHEA” AND THE “TRENT” IN THE ICE.]

The two vessels employed on this service were the _Dorothea_ and the
_Trent_. The instructions directed Buchan to proceed to the northward,
between Spitzbergen and Greenland, without delay on the way, and use his
best endeavours to reach the North Pole or its neighbourhood. On May 24th
the expedition had reached Cherie Island, on the coasts of which the
walruses were so numerous that at about that period as many as 900 or
1,000 had been captured by the crew of a single vessel in seven hours’
time. Many interesting traits of walrus character—if the expression may be
used—were observed on this expedition. “We were greatly amused,” says
Captain Beechey, the historian of the voyage, “by the singular and
affectionate conduct of a walrus towards its young. In the vast sheet of
ice that surrounded the ships there were occasionally many pools, and when
the weather was clear and warm, animals of various kinds would frequently
rise and sport about in them, or crawl from thence upon the ice to bask in
the warmth of the sun. A walrus rose in one of these pools close to the
ship, and finding everything quiet, dived down and brought up its young,
which it held by its breast by pressing it with its flipper. In this
manner it moved about the pool, keeping in an erect posture, and always
directing the face of the young towards the vessel. On the slightest
movement on board the mother released her flipper and pushed the young one
under water, but when everything was again quiet, brought it up as before,
and for a length of time continued to play about in the pool, to the great
amusement of the seamen, who gave her credit for abilities in tuition
which, though possessed of considerable sagacity, she hardly merited.”

[Illustration: MAGDALEN BAY, SPITZBERGEN.]

On May 28th, the weather being severe, with heavy fogs, the ships
separated, to rejoin at Magdalena Bay, Spitzbergen, a few days later. The
harbour was full of ice in a rapidly decaying state. This bay is
remarkable for four glaciers, the smallest of which, called the Hanging
Iceberg, is 200 feet above the sea-level at its termination. The largest
extends several miles inland, and, owing to the immense rents in its
surface, was called the Waggon Way. In the vicinity of the icebergs, which
had become detached from these glaciers, the observance of strict silence
was necessary, and the concussion produced by the discharge of a gun (not
its “explosion,” as Sir John Barrow says) would often detach large masses.
Beechey notes the effects of such a discharge: A musket had been fired at
half a mile distance, which not merely brought down an immense piece of
ice, but which was the cause of a ship’s launch being carried ninety-six
feet by the wave produced, filled with water, and landed on a beach, where
it was badly stove, the men barely escaping with their lives. They also
had the rare opportunity of noting the creation of an iceberg. An immense
piece of the front of a glacier was observed sliding down from the height
of at least 200 feet into the sea, dispersing the water in every
direction. This discharge was accompanied by a loud grinding noise, and
the ice was followed by quantities of water, which, being previously
lodged in the fissures, now made its escape in numberless small cataracts
from the face of the glacier. Some idea may be formed of the disturbance
caused by its plunge and the rollers which agitated the bay when we learn
that the _Dorothea_, then careening on her side at a distance of _four
miles_, righted herself. This mass dived wholly under water, and then
reappeared, rearing its head a hundred feet high, accompanied by the
boiling of the sea and clouds of spray. Its circumference was found to be
nearly a quarter of a mile, while its weight was computed at over 400,000
tons.

In summer the coasts of Spitzbergen were found perfectly alive with
animated nature. The shores reverberated with the cries of the little
auks, cormorants, divers, and gulls. Walruses were basking in the sun,
mingling their roar with the bark of the seal. Beechey describes an
uninterrupted line of little auks flying in the air three miles in length,
and so close together that thirty fell at one shot. He estimated their
number at 4,000,000, allowing sixteen to a cubic yard. This number appears
very large; yet Audubon, in describing the passenger-pigeons on the banks
of the Ohio, speaks of one single flock of 1,115,000,000. Audubon’s
character for veracity is too unquestioned for us to inquire how he made
the calculation.

The surrounding islands were thick with reindeer, Vogel Sang, in
particular, yielding the expedition forty carcases. The king eider-ducks
were found in such numbers that it was impossible almost to walk without
treading on their nests, which they defended with determined resolution;
but, in fact, all nature was alive at this time, and birds of many kinds,
foxes, and bears, were everywhere found on the shore and on the ice, while
amphibious animals, from whales downwards, abounded in the water.

On the 7th of June the ships left Magdalena Bay, and were greatly hampered
in the ice. Indeed, they learned from several whale-ships that the ice to
the westward was very thick, and that fifteen vessels were beset in it.
Proceeding northward themselves, they became entangled in a floe of ice,
where they had to remain thirteen days, after which the field broke up,
and they got into an open sea. Several attempts were made to prosecute
their voyage in a northerly direction, but without success; and Captain
Buchan, being satisfied that he had given the ice a fair trial in the
vicinity of Spitzbergen, resolved on bearing for the coast of Greenland.
Having arrived at the edge of the pack, a gale came on so suddenly that
they were at once reduced to storm staysails. The vessels were reduced to
take refuge among the ice, a proceeding often rendered necessary in those
latitudes, though extremely dangerous. The _Trent_, following the
_Dorothea_, dashed into the unbroken line of furious breakers, in which
immense masses of ice were crashing, heaving, and subsiding with the
waves. The noise was so great that the officers could scarcely be heard by
the crew. “If ever the fortitude of seamen was fairly tried it was
assuredly not less so on this occasion; and I would not,” says Beechey,
“conceal the pride I felt in witnessing the bold and decisive tone in
which the orders were issued by the commander of our little vessel
(Franklin), and the promptitude and steadiness with which they were
executed by the crew. Each person instinctively secured his own hold, and,
with his eyes fixed upon the masts, awaited in breathless anxiety the
moment of the concussion. It soon arrived; the brig, cutting her way
through the light ice, came in violent contact with the main body. In an
instant we all lost our footing, the masts bent with the impetus, and the
cracking timbers from below bespoke a pressure which was calculated to
awaken our serious apprehensions.” So great was the motion of the vessel
that the ship’s bells tolled continually, and they were ordered to be
muffled; the heaviest gale of wind had never before made them strike.
After many dangers from the ice the pack broke up sufficiently to release
the ships, both of which were greatly disabled, while the _Dorothea_ was
in a foundering condition. They proceeded as well as they could to Fair
Haven, Spitzbergen, where the damages were in some sort repaired, and they
sailed for home.

The character of Sir William Edward Parry, who carried the Union Jack
nearer the Pole than any explorer prior to Markham and Parr, was truly
admirable, while his services to his country were as brilliant as they
were numerous. In every way he was an honour to the British navy, such a
union of lofty heroism, consummate nautical skill, and calm daring, is
almost without parallel. The amiability and benevolence of his manners
endeared him to all ranks of the service, and made him the idol of his
men, whom he never failed to encourage by all the means in his power. His
name, though written in snow and ice, is imperishable, for his heart was
in his work, and he always believed in its future success. In the four
voyages made under his command to the Arctic seas he was most careful of
the health and comfort of his followers, and lost fewer hands than any
other commander in these parts; and when we remember the kind of vessels
he sometimes sailed in (the _Griper_, in particular, being about as
unseaworthy a ship as could well be sent out of dock), we can only wonder
at his patience under difficulties and the persevering energy which kept
him “pegging away.”

The son of a celebrated physician, Dr. Caleb Hillier Parry, he was born at
Bath on the 19th of December, 1760, and was intended originally for his
father’s profession; but circumstances having occurred to alter his
determination, he was appointed to the _Ville de Paris_, the flagship of
Admiral Cornwallis’s Channel Fleet, as a volunteer of the first class.
Here he remained for three years, during which period he was engaged in an
action off Brest Harbour. Fortunate in making his first essay of a
seaman’s life under officers who were desirous of winning the esteem and
affection of those beneath them, he soon became a favourite, and the
admiral, on his leaving the ship, thus records his opinion of him:—“Parry
is a fine, steady lad. I never knew any one so generally approved of. He
will receive civility and kindness from all while he continues to conduct
himself as he has done, which, I dare believe, will be as long as he
lives.” He was afterwards appointed to the _Tribune_ frigate and to the
_Vanguard_, and was frequently engaged with the Danish gun-boats in the
Baltic.

In 1810 he gained his epaulet, and joined the _Alexandria_ frigate, in
which, after serving in the Baltic, he made his first acquaintance with
polar ice between North Cape and Bear Island; and he subsequently joined
the _La Hogue_ at Halifax. In 1814 he commanded a boat in a successful
expedition up the Connecticut river, for which service he received a
medal. Three years later he was recalled to England in consequence of the
severe illness of his father, who had been seized with a paralytic stroke.
His father’s illness and his own despair of promotion made this the
gloomiest period of our young hero’s life. But dark is the hour before the
dawn, and an incident occurred which threw a gleam of hope upon his
professional prospects, and proved the forerunner to his future success.
At the close of 1817 he wrote to a friend on the subject of an expedition
that was about starting to explore the River Congo. The letter was
written, but not posted, when his eye fell on a paragraph in the newspaper
relative to an expedition about to be fitted out to the northern regions.
He seized the pen, and added, by way of postscript, that, as far as he was
concerned, “hot or cold it was all one to him, Africa or the Pole.” This
letter was shown to Mr. Barrow, the then Secretary of the Admiralty, and
in a few days he was appointed to the command of the _Alexander_,
discovery ship, under the orders of Commander John Ross, as recorded in
the first voyage of the present series.

[Illustration: THE NORTH CAPE.]

In 1819-20 Parry made a second voyage to the Arctic, this being the first,
however, in which he had the chief command. The _Hecla_ and the _Griper_
were the vessels employed, and the expedition left the river on May 11th,
reaching Davis’s Strait at the end of June, where icebergs of large size
and in great numbers were encountered. Fifty or sixty _per diem_ was not
an unusual allowance, and Parry counted eighty-eight large ones from the
crow’s nest on one occasion, besides a profusion of smaller ones. Some
most important explorations in Sir James Lancaster’s Sound were made, and
the land which Ross had supposed extended across the bottom of this inlet
was found to be open water. The expedition sailed across the site of the
Croker Mountains, as has been before mentioned. Barrow’s Strait,
Wellington Channel, Melville Island, and many others, were first
discovered and named on this voyage.

CHAPTER XVIII.

PARRY’S EXPEDITIONS (_continued_).

Five Thousand Pounds earned by Parry’s Expedition—Winter
Quarters—Theatre—An Arctic Newspaper—Effects of Intense Cold—The
Observatory Burned down—Return to England—Parry’s Second
Expedition—“Young” Ice—Winter at Lyon’s Inlet—A Snow Village in
Winter and Spring—Break-up of the Ice—The Vessels in a Terrible
Position—Third Winter Quarters—Parry’s Fourth Winter—The _Fury_
Abandoned—The Old _Griper_ and her Noble Crew.

A very important event—at least, so far as concerned the members of
Parry’s expedition—was that which occurred on September 4th, 1819. On that
day the commander had the satisfaction of announcing to officers and crew
that they had crossed the meridian of 110 W. from Greenwich, by which they
had become entitled to the reward of £5,000 offered by the Government to
“such of His Majesty’s subjects as might succeed in penetrating thus far
to the westward within the Arctic circle.” To a bluff headland near this
point the appropriate name of Cape Bounty was given. After many perils in
the ice, a secure harbour was selected for their winter quarters at
Melville Island, but before they could enter it a canal, two and one-third
miles, had to be cut through the ice. This feat was performed in three
days by the united efforts of “all hands” from both vessels; and as they
would probably have to remain eight or nine months in that spot, Parry
began the arrangements for promoting the comfort and health of his crews,
the wisdom of which has often since been admitted and imitated by others,
but which were not very commonly understood then. Parry, however, has
hardly had a superior in these matters since. The vessels were well housed
in, and all that was possible done for warming and ventilating the decks
and cabins. An anti-scorbutic beer was brewed, and issued in lieu of
spirits. Some difficulty was experienced in the very cold weather in
making it ferment sufficiently to become palatable. A theatre was
organised on board the _Hecla_, in the arrangements for which Parry took a
part himself, “considering,” says he, “that an example of cheerfulness, by
giving a direct countenance to everything that could contribute to it, was
not the least essential part of my duty, under the peculiar circumstances
in which we were placed.” A little weekly newspaper, _The North Georgia
Gazette and Winter Chronicle_, edited by the since illustrious Sabine, was
organised, and helped to employ many contributors, and divert their minds
“from the gloomy prospect which would sometimes obtrude itself on the
stoutest heart.” For this desolate spot was destined, as it proved, to be
their home for nearly ten months. The animals had nearly all left; seals
were not found in the neighbourhood; even gulls and ducks avoided Melville
Island, where the only vegetation consisted of stunted grasses and
lichens. The cold was intense, and such experiences as the following did
not offer much inducement for prolonged trips from the vessels.

One John Pearson, a marine, had imprudently gone out without his mittens,
to attempt hunting, and with a musket in his hands. A party from the ships
found him, although the night was very dark, just as he had fallen down a
bank of snow, and was beginning to feel that degree of torpor and
drowsiness which, if indulged, inevitably proves fatal. “When he was
brought on board,” says Parry, “his fingers were quite stiff, and bent
into the shape of that part of the musket which he had been carrying; and
the frost had so far destroyed the animation in his fingers on one hand
that it was necessary to amputate three of them a short time after,
notwithstanding all the care and attention paid to him by the medical
gentlemen. The effect which exposure to severe frost has in benumbing the
mental as well as the corporeal faculties was very striking in this man,
as well as in two of the young gentlemen who returned after dark, and of
whom we were anxious to make inquiries respecting Pearson. When I sent for
them into my cabin, they looked wild, spoke thick and indistinctly, and it
was impossible to draw from them a rational answer to any of our
questions. After being on board for a short time the mental faculties
appeared gradually to return with the returning circulation; and it was
not till then that a looker-on could easily persuade himself that they had
not been drinking too freely.” At other times excursions were made when
the thermometer was 40° or 50° below zero without special inconvenience.
The fact is that one’s safety or danger much depends on the absence or
prevalence of wind. Even the natives of extreme latitudes have been frozen
to death during its prevalence. On February 24th, 1820, a fire broke out
in their house ashore, and in their anxiety to save the valuable
instruments it contained, sixteen men incurred frost-bite, the thermometer
on that day being from -43° to -44° (76° below freezing). One man, by
incautiously leaving his gloves off, had afterwards to suffer the
amputation of most of his fingers. When he arrived on board his hands were
plunged in cold water, the surface of which was immediately covered with a
skin of ice by the cold suddenly communicated! “The appearance,” says
Parry, “which our faces presented at the fire was a curious one, almost
every nose and cheek having become quite white with frost-bites in five
minutes after being exposed to the weather; so that it was deemed
necessary for the medical gentlemen, together with some others appointed
to assist them, to go constantly round while the men were working at the
fire, and to rub with snow the parts affected, in order to restore
animation.”

On the 16th day of February the greatest degree of cold was experienced,
the thermometer having descended to -55°, and remained for fifteen hours
at -54°; the less to have been expected as the old year had closed with
mild weather. On the following day, Parry says, “notwithstanding the low
temperature of the external atmosphere, the officers contrived to act, as
usual, the play announced for this evening; but it must be confessed that
it was almost too cold for either the actors or the audience to enjoy it,
especially those of the former who undertook to appear in female dresses.”
As early as March the snow commenced to melt, according to Parry’s
statement. This, however, could only possibly mean under the rays of the
midday sun, as, at the same time, we are told that the thermometer stood
at -22° to -25° in the shade (the latter 57° below the freezing point of
water). In May the ships were again afloat, the men having cut the ice
around them. But the sea, as far as the eye could reach, was still “one
unbroken and continuous surface of solid and impenetrable ice,” not less
than six or seven feet in thickness. It was not till the very last day of
July that the ice broke up, and on August 1st the ships stood out to sea.
Many a “nip” and “heavy rub,” as Parry describes it, did the ships sustain
after this; but in spite of perils from the ice, which would become
monotonous in the telling, the expedition reached England safely in the
latter part of October; and, in spite of all casualties, but one man out
of ninety-four had died during their eighteen months’ absence—a fact which
certainly speaks volumes for Parry’s unremitting care and attention to the
health of his crews.

[Illustration: ESQUIMAUX OF WEST GREENLAND.]

In 1821-3 we again find the indefatigable Parry in the field, this, the
second voyage under his direct command, being undertaken for the discovery
of a north-west passage. The vessels employed were the _Fury_ and the
_Hecla_, and the expedition left the Nore on May 8th, 1821. Most of the
experiences recorded in his work were similar to those already mentioned;
and only a few general facts and extracts from his journal are therefore
presented. Two winters were passed by him among the frozen realms on this
voyage, and several geographical examinations of importance made. The
Frozen Strait, Repulse Bay, and many islands of the same neighbourhood,
were carefully explored. Parry, in his journal of October 8th, gives the
following interesting description of the formation of “young” ice upon the
surface of the sea, and the obstacle which it forms to navigation.

“The formation of young ice upon the surface of the water is the
circumstance which most decidedly begins to put a stop to the navigation
of these seas, and warns the seaman that his season of active operations
is nearly at an end. It is indeed scarcely possible to conceive the degree
of hindrance occasioned by this impediment, trifling as it always appears
before it is encountered. When the sheet has acquired the thickness of
about half an inch, and is of considerable extent, a ship is liable to be
stopped by it, unless favoured by a strong and free wind; and even when
retaining her way through the water at the rate of a mile an hour her
course is not always under the control of the helmsman, though assisted by
the nicest attention to the action of the sails; but it depends upon some
accidental increase or decrease in the thickness of the sheet of ice with
which one bow or the other comes in contact. Nor is it possible in this
situation for the boats to render their usual assistance by running out
lines or otherwise; for having once entered the young ice, they can only
be propelled slowly through it by digging the oars and boat-hooks into it,
at the same time breaking it across the bows, and by rolling the boat from
side to side. After continuing this laborious work for some time with
little good effect, and considerable damage to the planks and oars, a boat
is often obliged to return the same way that she came, backing out in the
canal thus formed to no purpose. A ship in this helpless state, her sails
in vain expanded to a favourable breeze, her ordinary resources failing,
and suddenly arrested in her course upon the element through which she has
been accustomed to move without restraint, has often reminded me of
Gulliver tied down by the feeble hands of Lilliputians; nor are the
struggles she makes to effect a release, and the apparent insignificance
of the means by which her efforts are opposed the least just or the least
vexatious part of the resemblance.”

[Illustration: AN ESQUIMAUX SNOW VILLAGE.]

It was now again time to fix upon winter quarters, and in an extensive
opening of the American mainland, which they named Lyon’s Inlet, a
suitable harbour was selected. The arrangements for the comfort and
employment of the crews were much as before. The Sabbath was carefully
observed, schools and harmless amusements provided, while the interests of
science were not neglected. An observatory and house were erected for
magnetic and astronomical observations. On February 1st a number of
Esquimaux arrived, who had erected a temporary village some two miles from
the ships. They, unlike some before seen in the vicinity of Hudson’s
Strait, who had become debased and demoralised by their constant
intercourse with whaling vessels, were of the unsophisticated order, and
were quiet, peaceable, and, strange to say, reasonably clean. Some of the
women, having handsome garments, which attracted the attention of those on
board, began, to their astonishment and consternation, to divest
themselves of some of their outer clothes, although the thermometer stood
at the time at 20° below zero; but every individual among them having on a
complete double suit of deer-skin, they did not apparently suffer much in
consequence. Parry’s description of their little snow village is graphic
and interesting. Not a single material was used in the construction of the
huts but snow and ice. The inner apartments of each were circular, with
arched domes about seven or eight feet high, and arched passage-ways
leading into them. The interior of these presented a very uniform
appearance. The women were seated on the beds at the side of the huts,
each having her little fireplace, a blubber lamp, with all her domestic
arrangements and domestic chattels, including all the children and some of
the dogs, about her. When first erected these huts had a neat and even
comfortable appearance. How differently did they look when the village was
broken up at the end of winter. Parry thus describes them:—“On going out
to the village we found one-half of the people had quitted their late
habitations, taking with them every article of their property, and had
gone over the ice, we knew not where, in quest of more abundant food. The
wretched appearance which the interior of the huts now presented baffles
all description. In each of the larger ones some of the apartments were
either wholly or in part deserted, the very snow which composed the beds
and fireplaces having been turned up, that no article might be left
behind. Even the bare walls, whose original colour was scarcely
perceptible for lamp-black, blood, and other filth, were not left perfect,
large holes having been made in sides and roofs for the convenience of
handing out the goods and chattels. The sight of a deserted habitation is
at all times calculated to excite in the mind a sensation of dreariness
and desolation, especially when we have lately seen it filled with
cheerful inhabitants; but the feeling is even heightened rather than
diminished when a small portion of these inhabitants remain behind to
endure the wretchedness which such a scene exhibits. This was now the case
at the village, where, though the remaining tenants of each hut had
combined to occupy one of the apartments, a great part of the bed-places
were still bare, and the wind and drift blowing in through the holes which
they had not yet taken the trouble to stop up. The old man Hikkeiera and
his wife occupied a hut to themselves, without any lamp or a single ounce
of meat belonging to them, while three small skins, on which the former
was lying, were all that they possessed in the way of blankets. Upon the
whole, I never beheld a more miserable spectacle, and it seemed a charity
to hope that a violent and constant cough with which the old man was
afflicted would speedily combine with his age and infirmities to release
him from his present sufferings. Yet in the midst of all this he was even
cheerful, nor was there a gloomy countenance to be seen in the village.”

It was not till July 2nd that the ships were enabled to move from their
icy dock, and they at first starting encountered severe dangers. Captain
Lyon, Parry’s associate in command, thus speaks of the situation of the
_Hecla_:—

“The flood-tide, coming down loaded with a more than ordinary quantity of
ice, pressed the ship very much between six and seven A.M., and rendered
it necessary to run out the stream cable, in addition to the hawsers which
were fast to the land ice. This was scarcely accomplished when a very
heavy and extensive floe took the ship on her broadside, and, being backed
by another large body of ice, gradually lifted her stern as if by the
action of a wedge. The weight every moment increasing obliged us to veer
on the hawsers, whose friction was so great as nearly to cut through the
bilt-heads, and ultimately set them on fire, so that it became requisite
for people to attend with buckets of water. The pressure was at length too
powerful for resistance, and the stream cable, with two six and one five
inch hawsers, went at the same moment. Three others soon followed. The sea
was too full of ice to allow the ship to drive, and the only way by which
she could yield to the enormous weight which oppressed her was by leaning
over the land ice, while her stern at the same time was entirely lifted
more than five feet out of the water. The lower deck beams now complained
very much, and the whole frame of the ship underwent a trial which would
have proved fatal to any less strengthened vessel. At this moment the
rudder was unhung with a sudden jerk, which broke up the rudder-case and
struck the driver-boom with great force. In this state I made known our
situation by telegraph, as I clearly saw that, in the event of another
floe backing the one which lifted us, the ship must inevitably turn over
or part in midships. The pressure which had been so dangerous at length
proved our friend, for by its increasing weight the floe on which we were
borne burst upwards, unable to resist its force. The ship righted, and, a
small slack opening in the water, drove several miles to the southward
before she could be again secured to get the rudder hung; circumstances
much to be regretted at the moment, as our people had been employed, with
but little intermission, for three days and nights attending to the safety
of the ship in this dangerous tideway.”

The _Fury_ experienced nearly the same dangers, and for days the situation
of both vessels was most precarious. Later, the ice having cleared to some
extent, they were enabled to make good headway, and on July 16th they
discovered a great deal of high land to the northward and eastward. This,
from the inspection of a rude chart which had been constructed by an
intelligent Esquimaux, was decided to be that island between which and the
mainland lay a strait leading into the Polar Sea, of which they had heard
much from the natives. Several land journeys were made, and one attempt at
taking the ships through, but though it was abundantly determined to be a
passage, they were obliged again to go into winter quarters before they
had succeeded. They were not extricated till nearly _one year_ afterwards,
and then not until a broad canal, 1,100 yards in length, had been cut
through the ice to the sea. The scurvy had made its appearance among the
crew, and Parry, after consultation with his officers, reluctantly turned
the vessels’ bows in a homeward direction.

Parry made a third voyage in 1824-5, passing his _fourth_ winter in the
Arctic regions. The same vessels were employed; and at the end of winter
the _Fury_ was so terribly damaged by the ice that she had to be
abandoned. But Parry, however disappointed with the results of this
voyage, once more, as we shall see hereafter, braved the perils of the
Arctic; but we must first record the circumstances connected with a
northern expedition which in chronological order comes properly before it.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN LYON AND HIS CREW OFFERING PRAYERS FOR THEIR
PRESERVATION.]

In 1824 Captain George F. Lyon was despatched, in the _Griper_, to
complete surveys of north-east America, but not specially to attempt
discovery. The _Griper_ was an old tub of a vessel, utterly unfitted for
its work, and it is rather of the voyage itself, as displaying the
advantages of perfect naval discipline under great disadvantages, than for
any other reason, this unfortunate expedition is recorded. The vessel was
a bad sailer, and constantly shipped seas which threatened to sweep
everything from the decks. In Sir Thomas Rowe’s Welcome—the passage
between Southampton Island and the mainland—fogs and heavy seas were
encountered, while no trust could be placed in the compasses, and the
water was fast shallowing. Lyon was obliged to bring the vessel “up with
three bowers and a stream anchor in succession,” but not before the water
had shoaled to five and a half fathoms, the ship all the while pitching
bows under. So perilous was their position that the boats were stored with
arms, ammunition, and provisions; the officers drew lots for their
respective boats, although two of the smaller ones would have inevitably
been swamped the moment they were lowered. Heavy seas continued to sweep
the decks, and when the fog lifted a little a low beach was discovered
astern of the ship, on which the surf was running to an awful height, and
where, says Lyon, “no human power could save us if driven upon it.”
Immediately afterwards the ship, lifted by a tremendous sea, struck with
great violence the whole length of the keel, and her total wreck was
momentarily expected. In the midst of all their misery the crew remained
twenty-four hours on the flooded decks, and Lyon himself did not leave for
his berth till exhausted after three nights’ watching. Few on board
expected to survive the gale. Still, every precaution was taken for the
comfort of the men, who were ordered to put on their best and warmest
clothing to support life as long as possible. The officers each secured
some useful instrument for future work, if, indeed, the slightest hope
remained. “And now,” says Lyon, “that everything in our power had been
done, I called all hands aft, and to a merciful God offered prayers for
our preservation. I thanked every one for their excellent conduct, and
cautioned them, as we should, in all probability, soon appear before our
Maker, to enter His presence as men resigned to their fate. We then all
sat down in groups, and, sheltered from the wash of the sea by whatever we
could find, many of us endeavoured to obtain a little sleep. Never,
perhaps, was witnessed a finer scene than on the deck of my little ship,
when all hope of life had left us. Noble as the character of the British
sailor is always allowed to be in cases of danger, yet I did not believe
it to be possible that among forty-one persons not one repining word
should have been uttered. The officers sat about wherever they could find
shelter from the sea, and the men lay down, conversing with each other
with the most perfect calmness. Each was at peace with his neighbour and
all the world; and I am firmly persuaded that the resignation which was
then shown to the will of the Almighty was the means of obtaining His
mercy. God was merciful to us; and the tide almost miraculously fell no
lower.” They were spared, and on the weather clearing discovered that they
were about the centre of the Welcome. The spot where they had been in such
imminent danger was named appropriately the Bay of God’s Mercy.

In the middle of September, when off the mouth of the Wager River, a gale
arose, and the sluggish _Griper_ made no progress, but “remained actually
pitching forecastle under, with scarcely steerage way.” The ship was
brought up, and the anchors fortunately held. Thick-falling sleet covered
the decks to some inches in depth, and withal the spray froze as it fell.
The night was pitchy dark; several streams of drift ice came driving down
upon the ship. Lyon says that it was not possible to stand below decks,
while on deck ropes had to be stretched from side to side for the men to
hold by. Great seas washed over them every minute, and the temporary
warmth this gave them was most painfully checked by the water immediately
freezing on their clothes. At dawn on the 13th their best bower anchor
parted, and later all the cables gave way. The ship was lying on her
broadside. Nevertheless, each man stood to his station, and in the end
seamanship triumphed; the crippled ship was brought safely to England. The
cool, unflinching courage of the men and the undisturbed conduct of the
officers were matters for highest praise. The royal navy could not be
proud of the _Griper_, but could, most assuredly, of the _Griper’s_ crew.

CHAPTER XIX.

PARRY’S BOAT AND SLEDGE EXPEDITION.

Parry’s Attempt at the Pole—Hecla Cove—Boat and Sledge
Expedition—Mode of Travelling—Their Camps—Laborious Efforts—Broken
Ice—Midnight Dinners and Afternoon Breakfasts—Labours of
Sisyphus—Drifting Ice—Highest Latitude Reached—Return Trip to the
Ship—Parry’s Subsequent Career—Wrangell’s Ice Journeys.

Undaunted by the comparative failure of his last voyage, we find Parry in
1826 proposing an attempt to reach the North Pole with sledge-boats over
the ice. The reports of several navigators who had visited Spitzbergen
agreed in one point—that the ice to the northward was of a nature
favourable to such a project. In the two narratives descriptive of Captain
Phipps’s expedition in 1773 the ice was mentioned as “flat and unbroken,”
“one continued plain,” and so forth. Scoresby the younger, speaking of the
ice in the same region, stated that he once saw a field so free from
fissure or hummock that he imagined, “had it been free from snow, a coach
might have been driven many leagues over it in a direct line without
obstruction or danger.” Franklin had previously mooted a very similar
proposition to that now made by Parry, and his plans were followed in many
essential particulars when the sanction of the Admiralty had been given to
the attempt. Two twenty-feet boats were specially constructed, nearly
resembling what were called “troop-boats,” having great flatness of floor,
with an even width almost to bows and stern. They were provided with
strong “runners,” shod with steel in the manner of a sledge, and their
construction generally was such as to combine lightness with strength. A
bamboo mast, a large sail—answering also for an awning—fourteen paddles, a
steer-oar, and a boat-hook, formed an essential part of the equipment of
each.

The _Hecla_ left the Nore April 4th, 1827, on this her fourth Arctic
voyage; and the expedition reached Hammerfest April 19th, where eight
reindeer(32) were taken on board, with a supply of moss for their
provender. A number of snow-shoes and “kamoogas” (leather shoes, intended
to be worn with the former) were also obtained. On May 14th the _Hecla_
reached Hakluyt’s Headland, where a severe gale was encountered, which
almost laid the ship on her beam-ends, and her canvas had to be reduced to
her maintop-sail and storm-sails. Shortly afterwards the vessel was driven
into a most perilous position, almost on to the packed ice. It was deemed
advisable to try the dangerous and almost last resort of running the ship
into the pack, and a tolerably open part of the margin having been found,
the ship was forced into it under all sail. The plan succeeded, and the
_Hecla_ was soon in a secure situation half a mile inside the ice-field,
with which she drifted vaguely about for many days. It was not till June
18th that a secure harbour for the vessel was found on the northern
Spitzbergen coast, which was named accordingly Hecla Cove.

Having made all necessary arrangements for the safety of the vessel, Parry
left the station on June 21st with the two boats, which were named the
_Enterprise_ and the _Endeavour_, Lieutenant (afterwards Sir) James Clarke
Ross having command of the second. Lieutenant Crozier accompanied the
boats to Low and Walden Islands, where depôts of provisions were made.
Provisions for seventy-one days were taken, which, including the boats and
all necessary gear, made up a weight of 260 lbs. per man. Four officers
and twenty-four men constituted the party. The boats made good progress
until stopped by the ice at noon on the 24th, when they were hauled upon a
small floe, the latitude by observation being 81° 12’ 51". The plan of
travelling on the ice was much as follows: Night—if the term can be used
at all in connection with the long Arctic summer day—was selected for
travelling, partly because the snow was harder, and they also avoided the
glare on its surface produced by the rays of the sun at its greatest
altitude, which is the immediate cause of snow blindness. Greater warmth
was enjoyed during the hours of rest, and it also gave them a better
chance of drying their clothes. “This travelling by night and sleeping by
day,” says Parry, “so completely inverted the natural order of things that
it was difficult to persuade ourselves of the reality. Even the officers
and myself, who were all furnished with pocket chronometers, could not
always bear in mind at what part of the twenty-four hours we had arrived;
and there were several of the men who declared—and I believe truly—that
they never knew night from day during the whole excursion.” The day was
always commenced by prayers, after which they took off their fur
sleeping-dresses, and put on those for travelling. Breakfast was rather a
light meal, consisting only of warm cocoa and biscuit. After stowing the
boats, &c., so as to secure them from wet, they usually travelled five to
five and a half hours, halted an hour for dinner, and then again travelled
four, five, or even six hours. After this they halted for the
“night,”—usually early in the morning—selecting the largest surface of ice
in the vicinity for hauling the boats on, in order to lessen the danger of
collision with other masses or from its breaking up. The boats were placed
close alongside each other, and the sails, supported by the bamboo masts
and three paddles, formed awnings over them. Supper over, the officers and
men smoked their pipes, usually raising the temperature of their lodging
10° or 15°; the men told their stories and “fought all their battles o’er
again, and the labours of the day, unsuccessful as they too often were,
were forgotten.” The day was concluded with prayer, after which they
retired for the night, a watch being set for bears or for the breaking up
of the ice. The cook roused them with a bugle call after seven hours’
rest, and the work of the day commenced as before. The dietary scale seems
to have been very light for such hard work in that severe climate—ten
ounces of biscuit, nine ounces of pemmican, and one ounce of sweetened
cocoa-powder, with one gill of rum per day each man. The fuel used
consisted exclusively of spirits of wine, the cocoa, or pemmican soup,
being cooked in an iron pot over a shallow lamp with seven wicks.

[Illustration: THE EDGE OF THE PACK.]

The journey commenced with very slow and laborious travelling, the pieces
of ice at the margin of the pack being of small extent and very rugged.
This obliged them to make three, and sometimes four, journeys with the
boats and baggage, and to launch frequently over narrow pools of water. In
other words, in making a distance of two miles they had to travel six or
eight, and their progress was very tedious. Fog and rain hindered them
somewhat, while the condition of much of the ice over which they passed
rendered their journey very fatiguing. Much of it “presented a very
curious appearance and structure, being composed, on its upper surface, of
numberless irregular, needle-like crystals, placed vertically and nearly
close together, their length varying, in different pieces of ice, from
five to ten inches.” A vertical section of it resembled satin-spar and
asbestos when falling to pieces. This kind of ice affords pretty firm
footing early in the season, but as the summer advances the needles become
loose and movable, rendering progress very difficult, besides cutting into
the boots and feet. The men called these ice-spikes “pen-knives.” This
peculiar formation of ice Parry attributed to the infiltration of
rain-water from above. The water was standing in pools on the ice, and
they had often to wade through it. On the 28th the party arrived at a floe
covered with high and rugged hummocks in successive tiers, and the boats
had to be dragged up and down places which were almost perpendicular.
While performing this laborious work, one of the men was nearly crushed by
a boat falling upon him from one of the hummocks. As an example of the
harassing nature of this service, we find them on the 29th, in making a
mile of northing by a circuitous route among the ice-masses and open
pools, travelling and re-travelling about _ten_ miles in order to keep the
party and supplies together. They tried for soundings, and found no bottom
at two hundred fathoms (1,200 feet); later, a four hundred fathom line
gave no bottom. On the 30th snowy and inclement weather rendered the
atmosphere so thick that they were obliged to halt; later in the same day
they made five miles by rowing in a very winding channel.

“As soon,” says Parry, “as we landed on a floe-piece, Lieutenant Ross and
myself generally went on ahead, while the boats were unloading and hauling
up, in order to select the easiest road for them. The sledges then
followed in our track, Messrs. Beverly and Bird accompanying them, by
which the snow was much trodden down, and the road thus improved for the
boats. As soon as we arrived at the other end of the floe, or came to any
difficult place, we mounted one of the highest hummocks of ice near at
hand (many of which were from fifteen to five-and-twenty feet above the
sea), in order to obtain a better view around us; and nothing could well
exceed the dreariness which such a view presented. The eye wearied itself
in vain to find an object but ice and sky to rest upon; and even the
latter was often hidden from our view by the dense and dismal fogs which
so generally prevailed. For want of variety, the most trifling
circumstances engaged a more than ordinary share of our attention—a
passing gull or a mass of ice of unusual form became objects which our
situation and circumstances magnified into ridiculous importance; and we
have since often smiled to remember the eager interest with which we
regarded many insignificant occurrences. It may well be imagined, then,
how cheering it was to turn from this scene of inanimate desolation to our
two little boats in the distance, to see the moving figures of our men
winding among the hummocks, and to hear once more the sound of human
voices breaking the stillness of this icy wilderness. In some cases
Lieutenant Ross and myself took separate routes to try the ground, which
kept us almost continually floundering among deep snow and water.” The
soft snow encountered was a great hindrance; on one occasion it took the
party two hours to make a distance of 150 yards! They had been deviating
from their night travelling, and were otherwise feeling the effects of it
in that inflammation of the eyes which ends in snow-blindness. The night
travelling was therefore resumed. On July 3rd their way at first lay
across a number of small loose pieces of ice, most of which were from five
to twenty yards apart, or just sufficiently separated to give them all the
trouble of launching and hauling up the boats _without_ the advantage of
making any progress by water. Sometimes the boats were used as a kind of
bridge, by which the men crossed from one mass to another. By this means
they at length reached a floe about a mile in length, on which the snow
lay to the depth of five inches or so, under which, again, there was about
the same depth of water. Parry says that snow-shoes would not have been of
the least service, as the surface was so irregular that the men would have
been thrown down at every other step. Among the hummocks noted at this
time were smooth, regular cones of ice, “resembling in shape the aromatic
pastiles sold by chemists; this roundness and regularity of form indicate
age, all the more recent ones being sharp and angular.”

Day after day they laboured on, with little variation in the circumstances
detailed above. The men worked with great cheerfulness and goodwill,
“being animated with the hope of soon reaching the more continuous body
which had been considered as composing the ‘main ice’ to the northward of
Spitzbergen,” which Captain Lutwidge had described as “one continued plain
of smooth, unbroken ice, bounded only by the horizon.”(33) They certainly
deserved to reach it, if it existed at all; but it is more than probable
that this apparently continuous level, mentioned by several navigators,
had been seen from an elevation, the “crow’s nest” on board ship, or some
hill ashore, and that a nearer inspection would have shown it to be full
of hummocks and breaks.

It is amusing to read of them _breakfasting_ at five p.m., _dining_ at
midnight, and _taking supper_ at six or seven o’clock in the morning! On
July 11th, having halted an hour at midnight for dinner, they were again
harassed by a heavy rainfall, but although drenched to the skin they made
better progress soon after, traversing twelve miles, and making seven and
a half in a northerly direction. They had now reached the latitude of 82°
11’ 51". Next day’s exertions only enabled them to make three and a half
miles of direct northing, and the following day but two and a half. Much
thin ice was encountered; it was often a nervous thing to see their whole
means of subsistence lying on a decayed sheet, with holes quite through
it, and which would have broken up with the slightest motion among the
surrounding masses. One day the ice on one side of a boat, heavy with
provisions and stores, gave way, almost upsetting her; a number of the men
jumped upon the ice and restored the balance temporarily. A rain-storm of
twenty-one hours’ duration is recorded on the 14th and 15th, which was, as
generally the case, succeeded by a thick wet fog. On the 16th the
narrative records “the unusual comfort of putting on dry stockings, and
the no less rare luxury of delightfully pleasant weather.” It was so warm
in the sun that the tar exuded from the seams of the boats. Even the
sea-water, though loaded with ice, had a temperature of 34°. At this time
the ice-floes were larger, though none are recorded over three miles in
length. On the 18th, after eleven hours’ actual labour, “requiring, for
the most part,” says Parry, “our whole strength to be exerted, we had
travelled over a space not exceeding four miles, of which only two were
made good in a NNW. direction.” The men, exhausted by their day’s work,
were treated to a little extra hot cocoa. They were also put into good
spirits by having killed a small seal, which next night gave them an
excellent supper. “The meat of these young animals is tender,” says Parry,
“and free from oiliness; but it certainly has a smell and a look which
would not have been agreeable to any but very hungry people like
ourselves.” They utilised its blubber for fuel, after the Esquimaux
manner. Some few birds—rotges, dovekies, looms, mollemucks, and ivory and
Ross gulls—were very occasionally seen and shot; and one day _a couple of
small flies_ were found upon the ice, which to them was an event of
ridiculous importance, and as so is recorded in the narrative. This at
least gives an insight into the terrible monotony of their existence at
this period.

Hitherto they had been favoured by the wind, but on the 19th a northerly
breeze set in, which, while it was the means of opening several lanes of
water, counterbalanced this advantage by drifting the ice—and, by
consequence, the party on it—in a southerly direction. Great was their
mortification at noon on the 20th to find by observation that since the
same hour on the 17th they had only advanced five miles in a northerly
direction. Although they had apparently made good progress in the
intervening time, their efforts had been nullified by the ice drifting
southward. These facts were carefully concealed from the men. On the 21st
the floe broke under the weight of the boats and sledges; some of the men
went completely through, and one of them was only held up by his drag-belt
being attached to a sledge which happened to be on firmer ice. This day
they made nearly seven miles by travelling, and drifted back four and a
half; or, in other words, their observation of the latitude showed them to
have, in reality, advanced only two miles and a quarter. Under these
circumstances we can understand their anxiety when, after a calm of short
duration, fog-banks were observed rising both to the southward and north.
Which would prevail? That from the south came first, with a light air from
that quarter, but soon after the weather became perfectly calm and clear.
Next night they made the best travelling during the expedition. The floes
were large and tolerably level, and some good lanes of water occurring,
they believed that they must have _advanced_ ten or eleven miles in a NNE.
direction, having traversed a distance of about seventeen. They had done
so—_on the ice_; but the ice itself had drifted so much to the southward
that they found, to their great disappointment and disgust, by observation
of the latitude, that they had only made _four_ miles. Still worse was it
on the 26th, when they found themselves in latitude 82° 40’ 23"; since
their last observation on the 22nd they had, though travelling almost
incessantly, _lost_ by drift no less than thirteen miles and a half, and
were more than three miles to the southward of their earlier position. The
men unsuspiciously remarked that they “were a long time getting to this
83°!” ignorant of the fact that the current was now taking them faster
south than all their labours advanced them north. Unlike Sisyphus, they
were but exerting an honourable ambition, but like him they were rolling a
stone up-hill which constantly rolled back again. The eighty-third
parallel had been for some time past the limit of Parry’s ambition, but
although he never reached it, he had the proud satisfaction of having
hoisted the British flag in a higher latitude than ever attained before.
Markham has since beaten him. Parry reached 82° 45’, and in reaching it
the party had, in the necessarily circuitous course taken, and counting
the constant retracing of their steps, travelled a distance nearly
sufficient to have reached the North Pole itself in a direct line.

It became evident that the nature and drift of the ice were such as to
preclude the possibility of a final success greater than that recorded.
They had now been absent from the ship thirty-five days, and one-half
their supplies were exhausted. Parry therefore determined to give the
party a day’s rest, and then set out on the return. He says:—“Dreary and
cheerless as were the scenes we were about to leave, we never turned
homewards with so little satisfaction as on this occasion.” Still, the
southern current was now an advantage, and they knew that every mile would
tell. The return was made successfully and without any very serious
casualties. Lieutenant Ross shot a fat she-bear which had approached
within twenty yards. Before the animal had done biting the snow, one of
the men was alongside of her with an open knife, cutting out the heart and
liver for the pot which happened to be then boiling their supper. Hardly
had the bear been dead an hour when all hands were employed in discussing
its merits as a viand, and some of them very much over-gorged themselves,
and were ill in consequence, though they “attributed this effect to the
quality, and not the quantity, of meat they had eaten.” On the morning of
August 11th the first sound of the ocean swell was heard under the hollow
margins of the ice, and they soon reached the open sea, which was dashing
with heavy surges against the outer masses. Sailing and paddling, fifty
miles further brought them to Table Island, where they found that bears
had devoured all the bread left at the depôt, as arranged at the
commencement of their voyage. The men naïvely remarked, says Parry, that
“Bruin was only square with us.” From a document deposited there during
his absence, he learned that on July 7th the _Hecla_ had been forced on
shore by the ice breaking up, but that she had been hove off safely.
Taking advantage of a favourable breeze, they steered their boats for
Walden Island, but _en route_ had bad weather, reaching it completely
drenched and worn-out, having had no rest for fifty-six hours. They had
barely strength to haul the boats ashore above the surf; but a hot supper,
a blazing fire of drift-wood, and a few hours’ quiet rest soon restored
them. The party arrived at the ship on August 21st, having been absent
sixty-one days. Allowing for the number of times they had to return for
their baggage during most of the journeys on the ice, Parry estimated
their actual travelling at eleven hundred and twenty-seven statute miles;
and as they were constantly exposed to wet, cold, and fatigue, as well as
to considerable peril, it was matter for thankfulness that all of the
party returned in excellent health, two only requiring some little medical
care for trifling ailments.

The future career of Parry was of a very different nature. After being
knighted, and fêted by the people of England, in the spring of 1829 he was
appointed Commissioner of the Australian Agricultural Company in New South
Wales; and one who visited the country a few years later wrote:—“At Port
Stephens Sir Edward Parry found a wilderness, but left a land of hope and
promise.” Returning to England in 1835, he was appointed Assistant
Commissioner of Poor Law in the county of Norfolk, but after a year and a
half was forced to resign through ill-health. He was afterwards made
Comptroller of Steam Machinery to the Admiralty, a post which he held for
nearly nine years, during which time the duties of his office became every
day more arduous; and in December, 1846, he received the appointment to
the post of Captain Superintendent of the Royal Clarence Yard and of the
Naval Hospital at Haslar. He took a prominent part in the founding of a
sailors’ home at Portsmouth; and in 1852 had to resign his post at Haslar
in consequence of attaining his rear-admiral’s flag. At the close of the
following year he was made Governor of Greenwich Hospital, and died on the
8th of July, 1855, at Ems. His remains were brought to England and buried
in the mausoleum at Greenwich Hospital.

Parry’s Polar journey can hardly be dismissed without some reference to
the remarkable expeditions made by Wrangell, the great Russian explorer.
Between 1820 and 1823 inclusive he made four expeditions on the ice
northward from the Siberian coast, starting from the town or settlement of
Nijni Kolymsk, on the Kolyma River. These excursions were made with dog
sledges, and the condition of the ice must therefore have been much
superior to that encountered by Parry, who found that the reindeers he had
intended for the same purpose could not be employed at all. The provisions
taken by Wrangell were rye-biscuit, meat, and portable soup; smoked fish;
the great Russian speciality, tea; spirits; and tobacco. A conical tent of
reindeer skin, _inside_ of which a fire was lighted, was part of the
outfit. He proceeded on one occasion 140 miles, and on another 170 miles,
from the land to the margin of the open sea, having often to cross ridges
of broken and hummocky ice sometimes eighty and ninety feet above the
general level. At the edge of the frozen field the ice was found to be
rotten and unsafe; and on his last journey, when the ice on which he
travelled was broken up by a gale while he was seventy miles from land,
nothing but the swiftness of his dogs, who tore over the opening gaps,
saved him from destruction. A very thankful man was Wrangell when he
reached _terra firma_ once more.

CHAPTER XX.

THE MAGNETIC POLE.—A LAND JOURNEY TO THE POLAR SEA.

Sir John Ross and the _Victory_—First Steam Vessel employed in the
Arctic—Discovery of the Magnetic Pole—The British Flag waving over
it—Franklin and Richardson’s Journeys to the Polar Sea—The
Coppermine River—Sea Voyage in Birch-bark Canoes—Return
Journey—Terrible Sufferings—Starvation and Utter Exhaustion—Deaths
by the Way—A Brave Feat—Relieved at length—Journey to the Mouth of
the Mackenzie—Fracas with the Esquimaux—Peace Restored.

Immediately after the return of Parry’s expedition in 1827, Sir John Ross
submitted to the Admiralty the plans for the voyage of which we are about
to speak. Hitherto all voyages of discovery in the Arctic seas had been
made in sailing vessels. Ross deserves the credit of having been the first
to urge the employment of a steam-ship in that service. His proposals were
not accepted, and he therefore laid the scheme before a wealthy friend,
Mr. Sheriff Booth. At that time the Parliamentary reward of £20,000 was
still outstanding to the discoverer of a north-west passage, and Mr. Booth
declined to embark “in what might be deemed by others a mere mercantile
speculation.” Not long afterwards, the Government reward being withdrawn,
Mr. Booth immediately empowered Ross to provide, at his own private
expense, all that was necessary for the expedition. A paddle-wheel
steamer, the _Victory_, was purchased. The vessel was strengthened and
many other improvements made. She was provisioned for a thousand days, and
was to have been accompanied for some distance by a store-ship. The men on
the latter mutinied at Loch Ryan, and the larger part of them immediately
left the ship, which, to make a long story short, never proceeded on this
voyage. Misfortune befell the _Victory_; her engines proved a total
failure, and at the commencement of the voyage were the cause of much
anxiety and worry to the commander. It must be remembered that _sea-going_
steamers were then of very recent introduction, while long _ocean voyages_
in steam-ships were almost unthought of. Symington’s first _river_ steamer
had indeed made her first trip on the Clyde as early as 1788, but the
earliest _sea-going_ steamboat of which we have record did not make a trip
till 1815. The voyage was only from Glasgow to London. As we have seen, an
American steamer crossed the Atlantic Ocean to Liverpool in 1819; but it
was not till 1838, when the _Great Western_ and _Sirius_ crossed the
Atlantic, that this great steamship route was really opened. Ross was
therefore very early in the field, and should be regarded as a man of
penetration for his epoch. Nowadays, as we all know, vessels with at least
auxiliary, if not complete steam power, are nearly always employed in
Government expeditions, and even by whalers in the Arctic seas.

The expedition left England May 23rd, 1829, and arrived home again on
October 18th, 1833, having thus been absent for the lengthened period of
four years and five months. The coast surveys made by Ross of King
William’s Land and Boothia Felix (named after the munificent merchant who
had so liberally provided the expedition) were careful, and doubtless
accurate, but not very extensive. The most interesting feature of all was
the determination of the exact locality of the Magnetic Pole, which was
accomplished by the nephew of Sir John Ross (later Sir James Ross) on June
1st, 1831.

Before leaving the vessel it was perfectly understood that they were in
the immediate vicinity of the Magnetic Pole; and, indeed, it was
afterwards proved that Commander Ross had been, in a preceding land
journey in 1830, within ten miles of the spot, but had been unprovided
with the necessary instruments to determine that fact. The weather on the
trip was tempestuous and blustering, but no special disaster occurred, and
on the morning of May 31st they found themselves within fourteen miles of
the calculated position. Leaving behind the larger part of their baggage
and provisions on the beach, the party hurried forward in a state of
excitement pardonable under the circumstances. At eight o’clock the next
morning their journey was at an end, and never, doubtless, were exhausted
men more thoroughly happy. It will interest the reader to learn how the
Magnetic Pole looks.

“The land,” wrote Ross the younger, “at this place is very low near the
coast, but it rises into ridges of fifty or sixty feet high about a mile
inland. We could have wished that a place so important had possessed more
of mark or note. It was scarcely censurable to regret that there was not a
mountain to indicate a spot to which so much of interest must ever be
attached; and I could even have pardoned any one among us who had been so
romantic or absurd as to expect that the Magnetic Pole was an object as
conspicuous and mysterious as the fabled mountain of Sinbad, that it was
even a mountain of iron, or a magnet as large as Mont Blanc. But Nature
had here erected no monument to denote the spot which she had chosen as
the centre of one of her great and dark powers, and where we could do
little ourselves toward this end.... We were, however, fortunate in here
finding some huts of Esquimaux that had not long been abandoned.” A series
of scientific observations were at once made, the most conspicuous results
of which were as follows:—At their observatory the amount of the dip, as
indicated by the dipping-needle, was 89° 59’, being thus within one minute
of the vertical, while the proximity of the Magnetic Pole was confirmed by
the absolute inaction of the several horizontal needles. “These were
suspended in the most delicate manner possible, but there was not one
which showed the slightest effort to move from the position in which it
was placed.” In other words, the magnetic force was dead in that very spot
to which millions of compasses are ever pointing.

The British flag was fixed on the spot, and the discoverers took
possession of the Magnetic Pole in the name of Great Britain and King
William IV. A limestone cairn was erected, in which a canister containing
the record of the visit of Ross and his companions was deposited. Ross
says that “had it been a pyramid as large as that of Cheops, I am not
quite sure that it would have done more than satisfy our ambition under
the feelings of that exciting day. The latitude of this spot is 70° 5’
17", and its longitude 96° 46’ 45" W.” On the return journey to the ship
they encountered blinding snow-storms, but eventually reached it in
safety, after an absence of twenty-eight days.

[Illustration: DR. (AFTERWARDS SIR) JOHN RICHARDSON.]

[Illustration: FORT ENTERPRISE.]

[Illustration: RICHARDSON’S ADVENTURE WITH WHITE WOLVES.]

In 1819-22 Franklin made a most remarkable and perilous land and river
journey to the shores of the Polar Sea, which will be only briefly noticed
here for obvious reasons. The party consisted of Franklin, Dr. Richardson,
Back, Hood, and a sailor named Hepburn, who is very highly commended in
the narrative. They left England May 22nd, 1819, and reached York Factory,
Hudson’s Bay, at the end of August. Thence they proceeded to Cumberland
House, whence Franklin, Back, and Hepburn, travelled to Carlton House and
Chipewyan, a winter journey of 857 miles; the others followed, and a
number of _voyageurs_ were engaged. In the spring they again started,
reaching Fort Providence on July 28th, 1820, from which place they
proceeded to a point situated by Winter Lake, where they determined to
erect a house and pass the winter. The house, or post, was named Fort
Enterprise. Back and others travelled backwards and forwards this winter
1,104 miles in order to fetch up a sufficient quantity of provisions for
their next summer’s work, and suffered severely from the intense cold and
from something like starvation on many occasions. The last day of June,
1821, the party reached and embarked upon the Coppermine River, and
eighteen days later reached the sea-coast, about 317 miles from their last
winter quarters. The canoes and baggage had been dragged over snow and ice
for 117 miles of this distance, and they had successfully passed many
rapids. They were now in the country of the Esquimaux, and exposed to
fresh anxieties from the unfriendly feeling which existed between them and
the Indians. Dr. Richardson, one night, whilst on the first watch, had
seated himself on a hill overhanging the river; his thoughts were possibly
engaged with far distant scenes, when he was roused by an indistinct noise
behind him, and, on looking round, perceived that nine white wolves had
ranged themselves in the form of a crescent, and were advancing,
apparently with the intention of driving him into the river. On his rising
up they halted, and when he advanced, they made way for his passage down
to the tents. He had his gun in his hand, but forbore to fire, lest he
should alarm any Esquimaux who might possibly be in the neighbourhood. The
Canadian _voyageurs_ were delighted with their first view of the sea, and
amused at the sight of the seals gambolling and swimming about, but were
not unnaturally terrified at the idea of the voyage, through an icy sea,
now proposed by Franklin. On July 21st, with only fifteen days’ provisions
on board, they commenced an eastward trip of 550 miles, which is little
less than the direct distance between the Coppermine River and Repulse
Bay, which Franklin had at one time fondly hoped to reach. Storms arose;
their canoes were badly shattered and their provisions nearly exhausted,
and at a position now marked on the map as Point Turnagain they desisted
from further attempts. He determined to steer westward at once for Arctic
Sound, and by Hood’s River attempt to reach their old quarters at Fort
Enterprise. They had a somewhat chilling prospect before them, for as
early as August 20th the pools were frozen over, snow on the ground, and
the thermometer down to freezing point at noon. The hunters were
unsuccessful, and they made “a scanty meal off a handful of pemmican,
after which only half a bag remained.” Bad as were the canoes, and worse
as was the weather, they managed to paddle along bravely till, on the
26th, they reached Hood’s River. “Here,” says Franklin, “terminated our
voyage on the Arctic Sea, during which we had gone over 650 geographical
miles.” “Our Canadian voyagers,” Franklin mentions, “could not restrain
their joy at having turned their backs on the sea, and they spent the
evening in talking over their past adventures with much humour and no
little exaggeration. It is due to their character to mention that they
displayed much courage in encountering the dangers of the sea, magnified
to them by their novelty.” They proceeded a few miles up the river, and
then encamped.

Two small canoes having been constructed from the remains of the older and
now almost useless ones, they, on the 1st of September, left the river,
the commander having determined to make a direct line for Point Lake, 149
miles distant. Having proceeded a dozen or so miles, they encountered a
severe snow-storm, which obliged them to encamp, and it raged so violently
that they were obliged to stop there, muffled up in their blankets and
skins, for nearly a week. On the 3rd of September the _last_ piece of
pemmican and a small quantity of arrowroot were served out, and with no
fire, a temperature below freezing, and wet garments, they were in a
miserable plight. The storm abated on the 7th, but when they attempted to
proceed Franklin was seized with a fainting fit, in consequence of sudden
exposure and exhaustion. Several of the men, with much kindness, urged him
to eat a morsel of portable soup, the small and only remaining meal,
which, after much hesitation, he did, and was much revived. The
canoe-carriers were so weak that they were constantly blown down, and one
of their little boats was crushed to pieces by a fall. They utilised it by
making a fire to cook the remnant of portable soup and arrowroot—their
last meal. For the next two days they had to live on the lichen named by
the Canadians _tripe de roche_, but on the 10th they killed a large musk
ox—which, by-the-bye, was a cow—and they enjoyed a good meal. Soon again
all supplies failed them, and a fatal despondency settled upon many of the
men, who, giving up all hope, left behind articles of incalculable value
to the expedition, including the second canoe and their fishing-nets. It
must be remembered that they were passing over a most rugged country,
where they had constantly to cross streams and rivers, and were living
mainly on a scanty supply of _tripe de roche_. At this depressing moment a
fine trait of disinterestedness occurred. As the officers stood together
round a small fire, enduring the very intensity of hunger, Perrault, one
of the Canadians, presented each of them with a piece of meat out of a
little store which he had saved from his allowance. “It was received,”
says Franklin, “with great thankfulness, and such an instance of
self-denial and kindness filled our eyes with tears.” Back, the most
active and vigorous of the party, was sent forward with some of the
hunters to apprise the people at Fort Enterprise of the approach of the
rest. Credit and Junius followed them, also to hunt. Credit returned, but
Junius was missing and was never after heard of. They had now reached a
branch of the Coppermine River, and it became necessary to make a raft of
willows, which occupied them to the 29th. Then all attempts to cross the
river in it failed.

[Illustration: PERRAULT DIVIDING HIS LITTLE STORE.]

“In this hopeless condition,” says Franklin, “with certain starvation
staring them in the face, Dr. Richardson, actuated by the noble desire of
making a last effort for the safety of the party, and of relieving his
suffering companions from a state of misery which could only terminate,
and that speedily, in death, volunteered to make the attempt to swim
across the stream, carrying with him a line by which the raft might be
hauled over.

“He launched into the stream with the line round his middle, but when he
had got to a short distance from the opposite bank his arms became
benumbed with cold, and he lost the power of moving them; still he
persevered, and turning on his back, had nearly gained the opposite shore,
when his legs also became powerless, and to our infinite alarm we beheld
him sink; we instantly hauled upon the line, and he came again on the
surface, and was gradually drawn ashore in an almost lifeless state. Being
rolled up in blankets, he was placed before a good fire of willows, and
fortunately was just able to speak sufficiently to give some slight
directions respecting the manner of treating him. He recovered strength
gradually, and through the blessing of God was enabled in the course of a
few hours to converse, and by the evening was sufficiently recovered to
remove into the tent. We then regretted to learn that the skin of his
whole left side was deprived of feeling, in consequence of exposure to too
great heat. He did not perfectly recover the sensation of that side until
the following summer. I cannot describe what every one felt at beholding
the skeleton which the doctor’s debilitated frame exhibited when he
stripped; the Canadians simultaneously exclaimed, ‘_Ah! que nous sommes
maigres!_’ I shall best explain his state and that of the party by the
following extract from his journal:—

“‘It may be worthy of remark that I should have had little hesitation in
any former period of my life at plunging into water even below 38°
Fahrenheit; but at this time I was reduced almost to skin and bone, and,
like the rest of the party, suffered from degrees of cold that would have
been disregarded in health and vigour. During the whole of our march we
experienced that no quantity of clothing would keep us warm whilst we
fasted; but on those occasions on which we were enabled to go to bed with
full stomachs we passed the night in a warm and comfortable manner.’”
Franklin adds:—“In following the detail of our friend’s narrow escape, I
have omitted to mention that when he was about to step into the water he
put his foot on a dagger, which cut him to the bone; but this misfortune
could not stop him from attempting the execution of his generous
undertaking.”

But although they had crossed the river they had much before them, and a
fearful amount of despondency prevailed. Franklin wishing one day to reach
one of his men three-quarters of a mile distant, spent _three hours_ in a
vain attempt to wade through the snow. Hood was reduced to a perfect
skeleton, Richardson was lame as well as exhausted, and even Back, the
energetic and unconquerable, had to use a stick. The _voyageurs_ were
somewhat stronger, but seem to have given up all hope; Hepburn alone seems
to have remained cheerful and resigned, and he was indefatigable in
collecting _tripe de roche_. On October 4th it was determined that
Franklin, with eight of his party, should push forward, and endeavour to
send back assistance. Four of these broke down almost immediately, and
endeavoured to return to the last camp; only one arrived; the other three
_were no more heard of_. Franklin succeeded in reaching Fort Enterprise,
where they found neither inhabitants nor supplies. On the way they had
literally eaten a part of their boots, and at the house were only too glad
to boil bones and pieces of skin for their sustenance. It is almost
impossible to give the reader in few words a fair idea of the terrible
condition in which they were. Franklin determined to push forward to the
next fort, but found that he had made but four miles in the first six
hours’ travel, and he, therefore, reluctantly returned to the house,
letting two of the Canadians proceed. Eighteen days elapsed, and then Dr.
Richardson and Hepburn arrived. Mr. Hood had, meantime, been shot by
Michel, one of their Indians, who it was believed had also been the
murderer of the three exhausted men who had been missing. He had remained
in strong and vigorous condition when the rest were utterly exhausted. Dr.
Richardson, being thoroughly convinced of these facts, killed Michel with
a pistol-shot shortly afterwards. “The emaciated countenances of the
doctor and Hepburn” gave evidence of their debilitated state. “The
doctor,” says Franklin, “particularly remarked the sepulchral tones of our
voices, which he requested of us to make more cheerful, if possible,
unconscious that his own partook of the same key.” Hepburn had shot a
partridge on the way, and the _sixth part of this_ was the first morsel of
flesh Franklin and his three companions had tasted for thirty-one days. At
length the long-expected relief from Back arrived by three Indians, but
not till two of the Canadians had succumbed. Back himself, in spite of his
splendid constitution, had suffered privations hardly second to those
recorded above. But from this period no great difficulties were
encountered on the return to Fort York, and Franklin and his brave
companions, poor Hood excepted, eventually reached England in safety.

Many would have been content to rest on their laurels; not so Franklin,
Richardson, or Back, who almost immediately afterwards volunteered to
again dare the perils of these same regions. The “second expedition to the
shores of the Polar Sea” was not marked by those disasters which had
befallen the previous one, but was none the less remarkable and daring. It
was, however, much better provided. Three light boats were built at
Woolwich specially for this expedition, and a fourth, covered with
india-rubber canvas, called the _Walnut Shell_, was taken for the purpose
of crossing rivers and for easy transportation.

Passing over all previous matters, suffice it to say that Franklin and his
party successfully reached the mouth of the great Mackenzie River, where,
on Garry Island, says Franklin’s narrative, “the men had pitched the tent
on the beach, and I caused the silk union flag to be hoisted which my
deeply-lamented wife(34) had made and presented to me as a parting gift,
under the express injunction that it was not to be unfurled before the
expedition reached the sea. I will not attempt to describe my emotions as
it expanded to the breeze; however natural, and, for the moment,
irresistible, I felt that it was my duty to suppress them, and that I had
no right, by an indulgence of my own sorrows, to cloud the animated
countenances of my companions. Joining, therefore, with the best grace
that I could command, in the general excitement, I endeavoured to return,
with corresponding cheerfulness, their warm congratulations on having thus
planted the British flag on this remote island of the Polar Sea.

“Some spirits which had been saved for the occasion were issued to the
men, and with three fervent cheers they drank to the health of our beloved
monarch and to the continued success of our enterprise. Mr. Kendall and I
had also reserved a little of our brandy in order to celebrate this
interesting event; but Baptisto, in his delight at beholding the sea, had
set before us some salt water, which, having been mixed with the brandy
before the mistake was discovered, we were reluctantly obliged to forego
the intended draught, and to use it in the more classical form of a
libation poured on the ground.”

Severe weather compelled them to return up the river to their station at
Fort Franklin on this occasion, but they returned to the mouth of the
Mackenzie in the following season, where they nearly had a serious
difficulty with the natives. Franklin had been ashore, and had noted on
one of the islands a number of tents, with Esquimaux strolling about. He
hastened back to the boats to prepare presents for them. Some
seventy-three canoes and five large skin boats were soon seen approaching,
with perhaps three hundred persons on board. They speedily showed a great
desire to trade. Augustus, the interpreter, explained the objects of the
visit, and that if they should succeed in finding a navigable channel for
large ships a great trade would be opened with them. This delighted them,
and they shouted with the greatest vigour. Unfortunately, just after this,
“a kaiyack being overset by one of the _Lion’s_ (the leading boat) oars,
its owner was plunged into the water with his head in the mud, and
apparently in danger of being drowned. We instantly extricated him from
his unpleasant situation, and took him into the boat until the water could
be thrown out of his kaiyack; and Augustus, seeing him shivering with
cold, wrapped him up in his own great-coat. At first he was exceedingly
angry, but soon became reconciled to his situation, and, looking about,
discovered that we had many bales and other articles in the boat, which
had been concealed from the people in the kaiyacks by the coverings being
carefully spread over all. He soon began to ask for everything he saw, and
expressed much displeasure on our refusing to comply with his demands. He
also, we afterwards learned, excited the cupidity of others by his account
of the inexhaustible riches in the _Lion_, and several of the younger men
endeavoured to get into both our boats, but we resisted all their
attempts.”

They, however, tried hard to steal everything on which they could lay
hands. One of the crew noticed that the native who had been upset had
stolen a pistol from Lieutenant Back, which he endeavoured to conceal
under his shirt, and the thief, finding it was observed, jumped out of the
boat into the shallow water, and escaped.

“Two of the most powerful men,” says Franklin, “jumping on board at the
same time, seized me by the wrists, and forced me to sit between them; and
as I shook them loose two or three times, a third Esquimaux took his
station in front to catch my arm whenever I attempted to lift my gun or
the broad dagger which hung by my side. The whole way to the shore they
kept repeating the word ‘_teyma_’ beating gently on my left breast with
their hands and pressing mine against their breasts. As we neared the
beach two oomiaks, full of women, arrived, and the ‘_teymas_’ and
vociferations were redoubled. The _Reliance_ was first brought to the
shore, and the _Lion_ close to her a few seconds afterwards. The three men
who held me now leaped ashore, and those who had remained in their canoes,
taking them out of the water, carried them a little distance. A numerous
party then, drawing their knives and stripping themselves to the waist,
ran to the _Reliance_, and, having first hauled her as far up as they
could, began a regular pillage, handing the articles to the women, who,
ranged in a row behind, quickly conveyed them out of sight.” In short,
Lieutenant Back, who had desisted from any violence up to this period, now
ordered his men to level their muskets on them, but not to fire till the
word of command. The effect was magical as a stage effect: in a few
minutes not an Esquimaux was to be seen. They made for the shore, and hid
behind the piles of drift-wood on the beach. Augustus, the interpreter,
subsequently made speech to them, showing them that their conduct had been
very bad, and that the “white man” could well take care of himself. “Do
not deceive yourselves,” said he, “and suppose they are afraid of you. I
tell you they are not, and that it is entirely owing to their humanity
that many of you were not killed to-day; for they have all guns, with
which they can destroy you either when near or at a distance. I also have
a gun, and can assure you that if a white man had fallen I would have been
the first to have revenged his death.” The language, of course, is
Franklin’s; but these were the general sentiments expressed in their
tongue. It was received with shouts of applause; and a little later they
pleaded that having seen so many fine things new to them they could not
resist the temptation of stealing. They promised better behaviour, and,
what is more to the point, restored the articles which they had purloined.
Thus, what might have proved a serious affray was prevented. The
Esquimaux, like all unsophisticated natives, are, or were then, mere
children, but children capable of doing much harm.

[Illustration: ESQUIMAUX KAIYACKS AND BOAT.]

Franklin traced the coast in a westerly direction to latitude 70° 24’ N.,
longitude, 149° 37’ W., and discovered several large rivers. Fogs, gales,
rain, and drift ice interrupted their progress, but they were enabled to
examine close on 400 miles of a new coast. Dr. Richardson meantime traced
the coast eastward from the Mackenzie to the Coppermine River, afterwards
travelling by land and river to Fort Franklin. Thanks to the excellent
arrangements made, his party endured no great privations, and this second
series of journeys to the Polar Sea formed a pleasant sequel to the first,
which were marked by so many disasters.

CHAPTER XXI.

VOYAGE OF THE “TERROR.”

Back’s effort to reach Repulse Bay—Nine Months in the Ice—The
_Terror_ Nipped and Crushed—A General Disruption—Extreme
Peril—Increase of Pressure—Providential Delivery—Another Nip—Bow
of the Ship split—Preparations for Emergencies—The Crew—An early
break-up—Frozen again—A Tremendous Rush of Ice—The Day of Release.

Captain Back was in 1836 appointed to the command of an expedition to the
Arctic, partly formed for purposes of survey. He was instructed to proceed
to Repulse or Wager Bay, as the case might be; thence he was to take a
party across the intervening land to the eastern shore of Prince Regent’s
Islet. Among other explorations he was to examine the coast line as far as
the Point Turnagain of Franklin. It is unnecessary to go into further
details, as the expedition, geographically considered, was a failure. But
the voyage is, nevertheless, one of the most interesting on record, and
gives us a vivid picture, or series of pictures, of the dangers incurred
in the Arctic seas. The now historical _Terror_ was the vessel employed,
and the expedition left England on June 14th, 1836, crossing Davis’
Straits six weeks later, where an enormous iceberg, “the perpendicular
face of which was not less than 300 feet high,” was sighted. The vessel
soon became entangled in the ice-floes, and this was only the forerunner
of their subsequent experiences. For nine months they were wedged up with
massive ice, and four months of this time were, as Back expresses it, on
“an icy cradle,” lifted out of the water. On September 5th there was a
calm, and the whole of the officers and men were despatched to the only
open water at all near, where with axes, ice-chisels, hand-spikes, and
long poles, they began the laborious process of cutting away the “sludge”
that bound the broken ice together, and removing them into the clear
space. In this service they were frequently obliged to fasten lines to the
heavier masses and haul them out, but though slipping and tumbling about,
“the light-hearted fellows pulled in unison to a cheerful song, and
laughed and joked with the unreflecting merriment of schoolboys. Every now
and then some luckless wight broke through the thin ice and plunged up to
his neck; another endeavouring to remove a piece of ice by pushing against
a larger mass, would set himself adrift with it, and every such adventure
was followed by shouts of laughter and vociferous mirth.” These efforts at
releasing the ship were only partially successful, and she was soon again
surrounded by the ice. On the morning of September 20th a fresh breeze
stirred up the masses. “Shortly after 9 a.m. a floe piece split in two,
and the extreme violence of the pressure curled and crumbled up the
windward ice in an awful manner, forcing it against the beam fully
eighteen feet high. The ship creaked as it were in agony, and strong as
she was must have been stove and crushed had not some of the smaller
masses been forced under her bottom, and so diminished the strain by
actually lifting her bow nearly two feet out of the water. In this
perilous crisis steps were taken to have everything in readiness for
hoisting out the barge, and, without creating unnecessary alarm, the
officers and men were called on the quarter-deck, and desired, in case of
emergency, to be active in the performance of their duties at the
respective stations then notified to them. It was a serious moment for
all, as the pressure still continued, nor could we expect much, if any,
abatement until the wind changed.

[Illustration: THE “TERROR” NIPPED IN THE ICE.]

“At noon the weather and our prospects remained the same. The barometer
was falling, and the temperature was 26°-, with unceasing snow. Much ice
had been sunk under her bottom, and a doubt existed whether it was not
finding its way beneath the lee floe also; for the uplifted ruins, within
fifty paces of the weather beam, were advancing slowly towards us like an
immense wave fraught with destruction. Resistance would not, could not,
have been effectual beyond a few seconds; for what of human construction
could withstand the impact of an icy continent driven onward by a furious
storm? In the meantime symptoms too unequivocal to be misunderstood
demonstrated the intensity of the pressure. The butt-ends began to start,
and the copper in which the galley apparatus was fixed became creased,
sliding-doors refused to shut, and leaks found access through the
bolt-heads and bull’s-eyes. On sounding the well, too, an increase of
water was reported, not sufficient to excite apprehension in itself, but
such as to render hourly pumping necessary. Moved by these indications,
and to guard against the worst, I ordered the provisions and preserved
meats, with various other necessaries, to be got up from below and stowed
on deck, so as to be ready at a moment to be thrown upon the large floe
alongside. To add to our anxiety night closed prematurely, when suddenly,
from some unknown cause, in which, if we may so deem without presumption,
the finger of Providence was manifest, the floe which threatened instant
destruction turned so as in a degree to protect us against an increase of
pressure, though for several hours after the same creaking and grinding
sounds continued to annoy our ears. The barometer and the other
instruments fell with a regularity unprecedented, yet the gale was broken,
and by midnight it had abated considerably.

“Sept. 21st. There was a lateral motion in some pieces of the surrounding
ice, and, after several astounding thumps under water against the bottom,
the ship, which had been lifted high beyond the line of flotation, and
thrown somewhat over to port, suddenly started up and almost righted.
Still, however, she inclined more than was agreeable to port, nor was it
until one mass of ponderous dimensions burst from its imprisonment below
that she altogether regained her upright position. On beholding the walls
of ice on either side between which she had been nipped, I was astonished
at the tremendous force she had sustained.” Her mould was stamped as
perfectly as in a die. Astonishment, however, soon yielded to a more
grateful feeling, an admiration of the genius and mechanical skill by
which the _Terror_ had been so ably prepared for this service. There were
many old Greenland seamen on board, and they were unanimously of opinion
that no ship they had ever seen could have resisted such a pressure. On
sounding the well she was found not to leak, though the carpenters had
employment enough in caulking the seams on deck.

They had now been a month beset, and were about to attempt the cutting of
a dock in the ice round the ship, when there was a general commotion, and
the entire body by which they were hampered separated into single pieces,
tossing into heaps, and grinding to powder whatever interrupted its
course. The ship bore well up against this hurly-burly, but the situation
was not improved. For several days the _Terror_ was in a helpless
condition, her stern raised seven and a half feet above its proper
position, and her bows correspondingly depressed, by the pressure of huge
ice-masses. Her deck was in consequence a slippery and dangerous inclined
plane.

On October 1st the vessel gradually righted, and the men were kept
employed in building snow-walls round the ship, and in the erection of an
observatory on the floe. “Meantime,” says Back, “we were not unobservant
of the habits and dispositions of the crew, hastily gathered together, and
for the most part composed of people who had never before been out of a
collier. Some half a dozen, indeed, had served in Greenland vessels, but
the laxity which is there permitted rendered them little better than the
former. A few men-of-wars-men who were also on board were worth the whole
put together. The want of discipline and of attention to personal comfort
was most conspicuous; and though the wholesome regulations practised in
His Majesty’s service were most rigidly attended to in the _Terror_, yet
such was the unsociability, though without any ill-will, that it was only
by a steady and undeviating system pursued by the first lieutenant that
they were brought at all together with the feeling of messmates. At first,
though nominally in the same mess, and eating at the same table, many of
them would secrete their allowance, with other unmanly and unsailor-like
practices. This was another proof added to the many I had already
witnessed, how greatly discipline improves the mind and manners, and how
much the regular service men are to be preferred for all hazardous or
difficult enterprises. Reciprocity of kindnesses, a generous and
self-denying disposition, a spirit of frankness, a hearty and above-board
manner—these are the true characteristics of the British seaman, and the
want of these is seldom compensated by other qualities. In our case—and I
mention this merely to show the difference of olden and modern times—there
were only three or four in the ship who could not write. All read, some
recited whole pages of poetry, others sang French songs. Yet, with all
this, had they been left to themselves I verily believe a more unsociable,
suspicious, and uncomfortable set of people could not have been found. Oh,
if the two are incompatible, give me the old Jack Tar, who would stand out
for his ship, and give his life for his messmates.” Back, in common with
so many Arctic commanders before and since, saw the necessity of occupying
and amusing his men; and on the 22nd October a general masquerade was held
on board, which gave rise to much hilarity and fun. Later, theatrical
entertainments were organised.

Some observations by Back on the gradual growth of ice, by layers forced
together above or underneath, will explain the apparent discrepancies in
Arctic works, where one reads of ice of so many different thicknesses
formed in the same winter. It is probable that the very thick ice found in
many parts of floes is formed by an accumulation of such layers, cemented
together in bights or bays, sheltered by projecting capes or headlands,
and less liable to disturbance from currents and tides; for they had
ocular demonstration, that with a very low temperature and calm weather,
in the severest portion of the winter, no addition of bulk takes place
from the surface downwards when protected, as their floe was, by a hard
coating of snow and drift. The doubling and packing of ice during gales of
wind and when exposed to severe pressure, as well as the growth and the
extensive fields, are phenomena which the attentive observations of modern
voyagers have rendered familiar; and by an extension of the above remark,
another explanation besides the action of the waves (for the mere heat of
the sun has little influence) is afforded as to how the destruction of the
immense fields of ice is effected, not, indeed, by pointing out the agents
of the destruction, but by showing how little may in many instances be
added in successive winters to the bulk to be destroyed. The fact that no
new deposition takes place underneath seems also at once to account for
the decayed and wasting appearance, which every one accustomed to polar
navigation must have noticed in what is called the old ice, of which
sailors will sometimes say—“Aye, sir, that piece is older than I am, but
it cannot last above another summer.” The writer well remembers the idea
of age, in another form, being associated with snow: “That there snow,”
said one of the sailors to him, “is three hundred year old, if it’s a day.
Why, don’t you see the wrinkles all over the face of it?” Every one has
noticed the wrinkles and ridges in snow, but the idea of associating great
age with them was original.

The winter passed slowly, with many false and some true alarms of the ice
being in motion. On February 20th they were in imminent peril. For three
hours after midnight the ice opened and shut, threatening to crack the
vessel like a nutshell. At 4 a.m. the whole of the ice was in motion,
great fissures opening on every side. Back writes:—“After 8 a.m. we had
some quiet; and at divisions I thought it necessary to address the crew,
reminding them, as Christians and British seamen, they were called upon to
conduct themselves with coolness and fortitude, and that independently of
the obligations imposed by the Articles of War, every one ought to be
influenced by the still higher motive of a conscientious desire to perform
his duty. I gave them to understand that I expected from one and all, in
the event of any disaster, an implicit obedience to and energetic
execution of every order that they might receive from the officers, as
well as kind and compassionate help to the sick. On their observance of
these injunctions, I warned them, our ultimate safety might depend. Some
fresh articles of warm clothing were then dealt out to them; and as the
moment of destruction was uncertain, I desired that the small bags in
which those things were contained should be placed on deck with the
provisions, so as to be ready at an instant. The forenoon was spent in
getting up bales of blankets, bear-skins, provisions, pyroligneous acid
for fuel, and, in short, whatever might be necessary if the ship should be
suddenly broken up; and spars were rigged over, the quarters to hoist them
out. Meanwhile the ice moved but little, though the hour of full moon was
passed; but at noon it began to drift slowly to the northward. We were now
from five to eight miles of the nearest land.

[Illustration: BACK ADDRESSING THE SEAMEN.]

“Though I had seen vast bodies of ice from Spitzbergen to 150° west
longitude under various aspects, some beautiful, and all more or less
awe-inspiring, I had never witnessed, nor even imagined, anything so
fearfully magnificent as the moving towers and ramparts that now frowned
on every side. Had the still extensive pieces of which the floe was formed
split and divided like those further off, the effect would have been far
less injurious to the ship; but though cracked and rent, the parts, from
some inexplicable cause, closed again for a time, and drove with
accelerated and almost irresistible force against the defenceless vessel.
In the forenoon the other boats were hoisted higher up, to save them from
damage in the event of the ship being thrown much over on her broadside.
For three hours we remained unmolested, though the ice outside of the floe
was moving in various directions, some pieces almost whirling round, and
of course, in the effort, disturbing others. At 5 p.m., however, the piece
near the ship having previously opened enough to allow of her resuming a
nearly upright position, collapsed again with a force that made every
plank complain; and further pressure being added at 6 o’clock, an ominous
cracking was heard, that only ceased on her being lifted bodily up
eighteen inches. The same unwelcome visitation was repeated an hour
afterwards in consequence of the closing of a narrow lane directly astern.
The night was very fine, but the vapour which arose from the many cracks
as well as from the small open space alongside, quickly becoming converted
into small spiculæ of snow, rendered the cold intolerably keen to those
who faced the wind. Up to midnight we were not much annoyed, and for four
hours afterwards, on February 21st, all was quiet. Every man had gone to
rest with his clothes on, and was agreeably surprised on being so long
undisturbed by the usual admonitory grinding. However, at 4 a.m. a
commotion was heard, which appeared to be confined to the angle contained
between west and north-west. On looking round at daybreak it was found
that the ship had been released by the retreating of the ice, and had
nearly righted; but at 5 a.m. she rose eighteen inches as before; she was
then at intervals jerked up from the pressure underneath, with a groan
each time from the woodwork.” And so it went on from day to day, Back and
his men being kept incessantly at their duties, and constantly at work
examining, and, where it was possible, strengthening the ship. Up to the
middle of March they were, however, still safe, but on the 15th they were
destined to witness trials of a more awful nature.

“While we were gliding quickly along the land,” says Back—“which I may
here remark, had become more broken and rocky, though without obtaining an
altitude of more than perhaps one or two hundred feet—at 1.45 p.m.,
without the least warning, a heavy rush came upon the ship, and, with a
tremendous pressure on the larboard quarter, bore her over upon the heavy
mass upon her starboard quarter. The strain was severe in every part,
though from the forecastle she appeared to be moving in the easiest manner
towards the land ice. Suddenly, however, a loud crack was heard below the
mainmast, as if the keel were broken or carried away; and simultaneously
the outer stern-post from the ten-feet mark was split down to an unknown
extent, and projected to the larboard side upwards of three feet. The ship
was thrown up by the stern to the seven-and-a-half feet mark; and that
damage had been done was soon placed beyond doubt by the increase of
leakage, which now amounted to three feet per hour. Extra pumps were
worked, and while some of the carpenters were fixing diagonal shores
forward, others were examining the orlops and other parts. It was reported
to me by the first lieutenant, master, and carpenter, that nothing could
be detected inside, though apprehensions were entertained by the two
former that some serious injury had been inflicted. In spite of the
commotion the different pieces of our floe still remained firm; but being
unable to foresee what might take place in the night, I ordered the
cutters and two whale-boats to be lowered down, and hauled with their
stores to places considered more secure; this was accordingly done, though
not under two hours and a half, even with the advantage of daylight. The
ship was still setting fast along shore, and much too close to the fixed
ice; but it was not till past 8 p.m. that any suspicious movement was
noticed near us; then, however, a continually increasing rush was heard,
which at 10.45 p.m. came on with a heavy roar towards the larboard
quarter, upturning in its progress and rolling onward with it an immense
wall of ice. This advanced so fast that though all hands were immediately
called they had barely time, with the greatest exertion, to extricate
three of the boats, one of them, in fact, being hoisted up when only a few
feet from the crest of the solid wave, which held a steady course directly
for the quarter, almost overtopping it, and continuing to elevate itself
until about twenty-five feet high. A piece had just reached the rudder
slung athwart the stern, and at the moment when, to all appearances, both
that and a portion at least of the framework were expected to be staved in
and buried beneath the ruins, the motion ceased; at the same time the
crest of the nearest part of the wave toppled over, leaving a deep wall
extending from thence beyond the quarter. The effect of the whole was a
leak in the extreme run, oozing, as far as could be ascertained, from
somewhere about the sternpost. It ran in along the lining like a rill for
about half an hour, when it stopped, probably closed by a counter
pressure. The other leaks could be kept under by the incessant use of one
pump.

“Our intervals of repose were now very short, for at 12.50 a.m., March
16th, another rush drove irresistibly on the larboard quarter and stern,
and, forcing the ship ahead, raised her upon the ice. A chaotic ruin
followed; our poor and cherished courtyard, its walls and arched doors,
gallery, and well-trodden paths, were rent, and in some parts ploughed up
like dust. The ship was careened fully four streaks, and sprang a leak as
before. Scarcely were ten minutes left us for the expression of our
astonishment that anything of human build could outlive such assaults,
when, at 1 a.m., another equally violent rush succeeded; and, in its way
towards the starboard quarter, threw up a rolling wave thirty feet high,
crowned by a blue square mass of many tons, resembling the entire side of
a house, which, after hanging for some time in doubtful poise on the
ridge, at length fell with a crash into the hollow, in which, as in a
cavern, the after-part of the ship seemed imbedded. It was indeed an awful
crisis, rendered more frightful from the mistiness of the night and
dimness of the moon. The poor ship cracked and trembled violently; and no
one could say that the next minute would not be her last, and, indeed, his
own too, for with her our means of safety would probably perish. The leak
continued, and again (most likely as before, from counter pressure) the
principal one closed up. When all this was over, and there seemed to be a
chance of a respite, I ordered a double allowance of preserved meat, &c.,
to be issued to the crew, whose long exposure to the cold rendered some
extra stimulant necessary. Until 4 a.m. the rushes still kept coming from
different directions, but fortunately with diminished force. From that
hour to 8 a.m. everything was still, and the ice quite stationary,
somewhat to the westward of the singular point, terminating as it were in
a knob, which was the farthest eastern extreme yesterday. We certainly
were not more than three miles from the barren and irregular land abeam,
which received the name of Point Terror. To this was attached a rugged
shelf of what for the time might be called shore ice, having at its
seaward face a mural ridge of unequal, though in many parts imposing,
height, certainly not less than from fifty to sixty feet.”

At last the long-delayed day of release drew nigh. The ship had now been
three-fourths of a year enclosed in the ice, with which it had drifted
several hundred miles, when, on July 11th, “the crew had resumed their
customary labour, and, as they drew nearer to the stern-post, various
noises and crackings beneath them plainly hinted that something more than
usual was in progress. After breakfast I visited them and the other
parties as previously stated. Scarcely had I taken a few turns on deck and
descended to my cabin when a loud rumbling notified that the ship had
broken her icy bonds, and was sliding gently down into her own element. I
ran instantly on deck, and joined in the cheers of the officers and men,
who, dispersed on different pieces of ice, took this significant method of
expressing their feelings. It was a sight not to be forgotten. Standing on
the taffrail, I saw the dark bubbling water below, and enormous masses of
ice gently vibrating and springing to the surface; the first lieutenant
was just climbing over the stern, while other groups were standing apart,
separated by this new gulf; and the spars, together with working
implements, were resting half in the water, half on the ice, whilst the
saw, the instrument whereby this sudden effect had been produced, was bent
double, and in that position forcibly detained by the body it had
severed.” Having cut to within four feet of the stern-post, the crew had
ceased work for a few moments, when the disruption took place, barely
giving them time to clamber up as they could for safety. Shortly
afterwards a very curious incident occurred. The _Terror_ was almost
capsized by a small submerged berg which had been released by the breaking
up of the floe. On July 14th the ship righted; and from that time to their
arrival in England, after they had managed to patch up, caulk, and render
her seaworthy, little of special interest occurred. It is questionable
whether any vessel has ever gone through more of the special perils which
beset ice navigation than did the _Terror_; but although terribly
shattered, we shall meet her again staunchly braving the dangers of the
Arctic.

CHAPTER XXII.

FRANKLIN’S LAST VOYAGE.

Sir John Franklin and his Career—His Last Expedition—Takes the
Command as his Birthright—The last seen of his Ships—Alarm at
their long absence—The Search—A few faint traces discovered by
Parry—A Fleet beset in the Ice—Efforts made to communicate with
Franklin—Rockets and Balloons—M’Clure’s Expedition—Discovery of
the North-West Passage—Strange Arrival of Lieutenant Pim over the
Ice—The _Investigator_ abandoned—Crew Saved—Reward of £10,000 to
M’Clure and his Ship’s Company.

The name of Sir John Franklin, whose sad destiny it was to perish at the
moment of triumph, stands pre-eminent as one of the brightest ornaments in
our long list of naval heroes. Peculiarly adapted by the bent of his mind
to the profession he had adopted, he brought to his aid the love of
adventure, a perfect knowledge of seamanship, and a zeal for geographical
discovery, combined with an integrity of purpose and a hardy intrepidity,
that, even in the service he so highly adorned, have never been surpassed.
Tried alike in peace and war, and illustrious in both, this noble
knight-errant of the northern seas, irresistible as one of those icebergs
that tried to bar his way, was always ready to do his duty for his native
land. Whether on the quarter-deck, in the midst of the enemy’s hottest
fire, or daring the dangers of the frozen ocean, among ice and snow,
blinded by dense fogs and endless nights, without guides or sea room, he
always showed the same fearless spirit, unwearied perseverance, and love
for the welfare of his country which caused him to succeed in the end,
although that success was so dearly bought.

[Illustration: SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.]

The purest heroism of England has been found in that land of desolation
which a wealth of valour has consecrated, and the hearts of the tars who
fought under Nelson were not more brave than those who sailed to meet
their fate under “good Sir John.” Setting little value on his own personal
comfort, but never neglecting the well-being of his crew, he made himself
beloved and respected by all, and when he passed away to “the undiscovered
country, from whose bourn no traveller returns,” he left behind him the
memory of his brave deeds as an example to the youth of his fatherland.
The most triumphant death is that of a martyr; the most glorious martyr is
he who dies for his fellow-men. Successful in death, Franklin and his
brave followers reached the goal, and perished. Well may the inscription
on their monument say, “They forged the last link with their lives.”(35)

Sir John Franklin, a native of Spilsby, in Lincolnshire, was destined for
the Church by his father, who purchased an advowson for him. While at the
Louth Grammar School, during a holiday walk, he first saw the sea. This
was the turning-point of his life, and he determined henceforth to be a
sailor. In the hope of disgusting him his father sent him on a trial
voyage in a merchantman to Lisbon, but this trip only confirmed his
decision, and he joined the _Polyphemus_, in the year 1800, the vessel
which, under Captain Lawford, led the line in the glorious battle of
Copenhagen. Two months after this engagement he was transferred to the
_Investigator_, commanded by his relative, Captain Flinders, and set out
on his first voyage of discovery to Australia, where he obtained a
correctness in astronomical observations and a skill in surveying that
became of the greatest service to him in his future career. Returning home
in the _Porpoise_, he was wrecked on a coral reef, and, with ninety-four
persons, remained on a narrow bank of sand only four feet above the level
of the water for fifty days, until Captain Flinders, who made the voyage
of 250 leagues to Port Jackson in an open boat, returned to their rescue.
On reaching England Franklin joined the _Bellerophon_, and performed the
duties of signal-midshipman with the greatest coolness, in the memorable
battle of Trafalgar, where all his companions on the poop were, with
exception of four or five, killed or wounded. In his next ship, the
_Bedford_, he attained the rank of lieutenant, served in the blockade of
Flushing, and was wounded in the disastrous attack on New Orleans. Shortly
afterwards he entered on that career in the Arctic regions with which his
name is so intimately identified, and which has been recorded. We now come
to the last sad closing scene of that grand life.

In 1845 a new expedition was organised by the Admiralty to make one more
attempt at the North-west Passage. For more than a year previously many of
the leading scientific men and old Arctic explorers had been urging it
upon the attention of the Government, and many were the volunteers who
desired to join it. The late Admiral Sherard Osborn, Franklin’s
biographer, tells us that it was at one time intended that Fitzjames,
whose genius and energy marked him for no common officer, should have the
command; but just about this time Sir John Franklin was heard to say that
he considered it his birthright, as the senior Arctic explorer in England.
He had then only recently returned from Tasmania, where he had been acting
as Lieutenant-Governor, and where he had held an unthankful post, owing to
some unmerited and disagreeable treatment from the then Secretary for the
Colonies. “Directly it was known,” says Osborn, “that he would go if
asked, the Admiralty were, of course, only too glad to avail themselves of
the experience of such a man; but Lord Haddington, with that kindness
which ever distinguished him, suggested that Franklin might well rest at
home on his laurels. ‘I might find a good excuse for not letting you go,
Sir John,’ said the peer, ‘in the telling record which informs me that you
are sixty years of age.’ ‘No, no, my lord,’ was Franklin’s rejoinder, ‘I
am only fifty-nine.’ Before such earnestness all scruples ceased. The
offer was officially made, and accepted. To Sir John Franklin was confided
the Arctic expedition, consisting of H.M.S. _Erebus_, in which he hoisted
his pennant, and H.M.S. _Terror_, commanded by Captain Crozier, who had
recently accompanied Sir James Ross in his wonderful voyage to the
antarctic seas.”

[Illustration: THE _EREBUS_ AND THE _TERROR_ AMONG ICEBERGS.]

The two vessels were completely overhauled and much strengthened,
auxiliary screws, engines, and fuel provided, and they were provisioned
for three years. The vessels left Greenhithe on May 19th, and by the third
week of July reached a point near Disco, Greenland, where a transport
which had accompanied them took on board the last letters of officers and
crews for home. They were seen on July 26th by a whaler, and were at that
date moored to an iceberg, waiting for a favourable opportunity to enter
the ice of Baffin’s Bay. From that day to the present no one of that
gallant band has ever been seen alive except by the wandering Esquimaux,
and not till 1854 was anything certain gleaned concerning their fate. Even
the meagre outlines then obtained were not filled in till 1859, when
M’Clintock made his memorable discoveries, and brought to light one of the
saddest of modern tragedies.

Subsequent researches enable us to state that their first winter was
passed near Beechey Island, where they lost three men. They had reached it
by sailing through a channel discovered between Cornwallis and Bathurst
Islands, and thence by Barrow’s Straits. For a year and a half after the
expedition had left no anxiety about it was felt; but after a council of
naval officers had been called by the Admiralty, it was decided that
should no news arrive that summer, preparations should be made for its
relief. This was done. Light boats and supplies were forwarded to Hudson’s
Bay, and in 1848, when the public alarm became general, several
expeditions were sent out. Later, as we all know, the Government fitted
out a whole series of vessels; the Hudson’s Bay Company sent forth several
land parties; Lady Franklin spent the larger part of her private fortune,
and America came bravely to the rescue. No less than thirty-two vessels
were sent out on the search by England up to 1859, and three by the United
States, while there were five land expeditions provided in large part by
the Hudson’s Bay Company. We must necessarily only speak of the more
interesting of these gallant attempts. Strangely enough, as we shall see,
almost the only information of value concerning the fate of Franklin and
his brave band was obtained by private enterprise, in spite of the gallant
efforts of so many in the royal navy.

One of the very first attempts made to communicate with the missing party
was sent in 1848, _viâ_ Behring Straits. Captain Kellett, of H.M.S.
_Herald_, and Captain Moore, H.M.S. _Plover_, added much to our knowledge
of the northern coasts of Siberia and north-western America; and
Lieutenant Pullen, of the _Herald_, made an adventurous boat journey from
Behring Straits to the mouth of the Mackenzie. But not the merest spark of
information was obtained concerning Franklin.

Some few traces were discovered by Captain Penny in 1850, at a period when
the fears of all were at their culminating point. In this and the
following year several vessels were sent out by Government, among them
H.M.S. _Resolute_, Captain Austin; H.M.S. _Assistance_, Captain Ommaney;
_Lady Franklin_, W. Penny, master; _Sophia_, A. Stewart, master; H.M.S.
_Pioneer_, Lieut. Osborn; also, at the expense of the Hudson’s Bay
Company, the yacht _Felix_, Rear-Admiral Sir John Ross. The whole of these
entered the Arctic regions from the Atlantic side, and either met at
various times or were in company. Osborn has recorded many facts and
incidents concerning them, from which we shall only cull a few of the more
interesting.

Describing the feat of cutting docks in the ice, to partially avoid the
pressure of the floes when they come crashing together, he says:—“Smart
things are done in the navy, but I do not think anything could excel the
alacrity with which the floe was suddenly peopled by about 300 men (crews
of whalers chiefly), triangles rigged, and the long saws, called ice-saws,
manned.

[Illustration: CUTTING ICE DOCKS.]

“A hundred songs from hoarse throats resounded through the gale, the sharp
chipping of the saws told that the work was flying, and the laugh and
broad witticisms of the crews mingled with the words of command and
encouragement to exertion given by the officers.

“The pencil of a Wilkie could hardly convey the characteristics of such a
scene, and it is far beyond my humble pen to tell of the stirring
animation exhibited by twenty ships’ companies, who knew that on their own
exertions depended the safety of their vessels and the success of their
voyage. The ice was of an average thickness of three feet, and to cut
this, saws of ten feet long were used, the length of stroke being about as
far as the men directing the saw could reach up and down. A little powder
was used to break up the pieces that were cut, so as to get them easily
out of the mouth of the dock—an operation which the officers of our
vessels performed while the men cut away with the saws. In a very short
time all the vessels were in safety, the pressure of the pack expending
itself on a chain of bergs some ten miles north of our present position.
The unequal contest between floe and iceberg exhibited itself there in a
fearful manner; for the former, pressing onward against the huge grounded
masses, were torn into shreds, and thrown back piecemeal, layer on layer
of many feet in elevation, as if mere shreds of some flimsy material,
instead of solid, hard ice, every cubic yard of which weighed nearly a
ton.”

[Illustration: ICE MOUNTAINS.]

They were not always so fortunate. A little later they were again beset,
and escape seemed hopeless. The commander, called from his berth to deck,
found the vessel thrown considerably over by the pressure of the ice on
one side, while every timber was straining, cracking, and groaning. “On
reaching the deck,” says Osborn, “I saw, indeed, that the poor _Pioneer_
was in sad peril: the deck was arching with the pressure on her sides, the
scupper pieces were turned up out of the mortices, and a quiver of agony
wrung my craft’s frame from stem to taffrail, whilst the floe, as if
impatient to overwhelm its victim, had piled up as high as the bulwark in
many places. The men who, whaler fashion, had without orders brought their
clothes on deck, ready to save their little property, stood in knots
waiting for directions from their officers, who, with anxious eyes,
watched the floe-edge as it ground past the side to see whether the strain
was easing. Suddenly it did so, and we were safe. But a deep dent in the
_Pioneer’s_ side, extending for some forty feet, and the fact, as we
afterwards learned, of twenty-one timbers being broken on one side, proved
that the trial had been a severe one.”

After overtaking Captain Penny, Osborn learned of the former’s discoveries
on Beechey Island, the first wintering place of Sir John Franklin, and on
August 29th paid a visit to the spot. “It needed not,” says he, “a dark
wintry sky or a gloomy day to throw a sombre shade around my feelings as I
landed on Beechey Island and looked down upon the bay on whose bosom had
ridden Her Majesty’s ships _Erebus_ and _Terror_. There was a sickening
anxiety of the heart as one involuntarily clutched at every relic which
they of Franklin’s squadron had left behind, in the vain hope that some
clue as to the route they had taken hence might be found.” The hope was
vain: no document of any kind was discovered, although a carefully
constructed cairn, formed of meat-tins filled with gravel, was found and
carefully searched. There was the embankment of a house, with a
carpenter’s and armourer’s workshops, coal-bags, tubs, pieces of old
clothing, rope, cinders, chips, &c.; the remnants of a garden, probably
made in joke, but with neat borders of moss and lichens, and even poppies
and anemones transplanted from some more genial part of the island. The
graves of three of the crews of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_, bearing the
dates of 1845 and 1846, proved conclusively that the expedition had
wintered there.

Osborn’s description of an Arctic dinner is interesting. “‘The pemmican is
all ready, sir,’ reports our Soyer. In troth, appetite need wait on one,
for the greasy compound would pall on moderate taste or hunger. Tradition
said that it was composed of the best rump-steaks and suet, and cost 1s.
6d. per pound. To our then untutored tastes it seemed composed of
broken-down horses and Russian tallow. If not sweet in savour, it was
strong in nourishment, and after six table-spoonfuls we cried, ‘Hold!
enough!’ But there came a day when we sat hungry and lean, longing for
this coarse mess, and eating a pound of it with avidity, and declaring it
to be delicious!” Frozen cold pork was found delicious with biscuit and a
steaming cup of tea.

During the long winter, fancying it possible they were in the
neighbourhood of Franklin’s party, rockets were fired and small balloons
sent off. The latter carried slow matches five feet long, which, as they
burned, let loose pieces of coloured paper, on which were printed their
position and other information. A carrier pigeon, despatched on one
occasion by Sir John Ross from his quarters in the Arctic in 1850, reached
its old home in Ayr, Scotland, in five days, having flown 3,000 miles!
Numerous sledging parties were despatched from the various ships
above-named, but without obtaining any further information regarding
Franklin.

M’Clure’s expedition has been generally regarded only in connection with
the discovery of the North-west Passage, but he also engaged in the search
for Franklin. With him was associated Captain Collinson, and both were
ordered to proceed _viâ_ Behring Straits to the Arctic. The _Enterprise_,
commanded by the latter, proceeded a little in advance of the
_Investigator_, commanded by M’Clure, which left Plymouth on January 20th,
1850. Late in July the Arctic Circle was crossed, and shortly afterwards,
at different dates, the _Plover_ and _Herald_ were met. Captain Kellett,
of the latter, reported the discovery of the new land north of Behring
Straits since always associated with his name. It was covered with lofty
and broken peaks, and Kellett thought it to be the same as described by
Wrangell, the Russian explorer, on the authority of natives. Some doubt
has at times been thrown on this discovery, but it has been since sighted
by an American whaler.

On August 21st the _Investigator_ reached the Pelly Islands, and crossed
the mouth of the great Mackenzie River. Little did M’Clure think that the
day after, Lieutenant Pullen, H.M.S. _Herald_, with a boat’s crew, was
returning from a visit to Cape Bathurst, and must have passed at a
distance of a few miles, a convincing proof of the easiness of missing one
another in the Arctic seas. Shortly afterwards they met a number of
natives, and held some communication with them. Osborn says that “when
asked why they did not trade with the white men up the big river (_i.e._,
the Mackenzie), the reply was they had given the Indians a water which had
killed a great many of them, and had made others foolish, and they did not
want any of it!” This statement is rather doubtful, as the Hudson’s Bay
Company does not, as the writer well knows, trade in spirits, at least in
those remote districts; and further, if they did, it would be a very
unusual circumstance for natives to decline it, as the whalers and traders
on the coast know full well.

“On September 17th the _Investigator_ had reached her farthest eastward
position in long. 117° 10’; and a couple of days afterwards, it was
decided, instead of returning to seek a harbour, to winter in the pack
ice. It was a dangerous, though a daring experiment, but the fact that it
might facilitate expeditions for the relief of Franklin seems to have been
uppermost in the commander’s mind. The ice was not yet strong enough to
remain tranquil, and M’Clure had provisions and fuel on deck, and boats
ready, in case of the vessel being crushed. On September 27th a change of
wind set the ice in motion, and drove the vessel towards some abrupt and
dangerous cliffs, 400 feet high, where there was no beach, and not a ledge
where a goat could get a foothold. Should the vessel strike their only
hope was in the boats. Happily the ice current changed, and swept them
past the rocks. At this period the crashing of the ice and creaking and
straining of the vessel’s timbers were deafening, and the officer of the
watch when speaking had to put his mouth close to his commander’s ear, and
shout out. The neighbouring land was searched for game, the unpleasant
discovery having been made that nearly 500 pounds of their preserved meat
had become putrid.”

The 26th of October, 1850, was an important day in the history of Arctic
adventure. Five days before, M’Clure, with six men and a sledge, had left
the ship, and had since travelled through Barrow’s Straits. On the clear
and cloudless morning of the 26th they ascended a hill before dawn. “As
the sun rose the panorama slowly unveiled itself. First, the land called
after H.R.H. Prince Albert showed out on an easterly bearing, and from a
point, since called after the late Sir Robert Peel, it evidently turned
away to the east, and formed the northern entrance to the channel upon
that side. The coast of Bank’s Land, on which the party stood, terminated
at a low point about twelve miles further on.... Away to the north, and
across the entrance of Prince of Wales Straits, lay the frozen waters of
Barrow, or, as it is now called, Melville Straits, and raised as our
explorers were, at an altitude of 600 feet above its level, the eyesight
embraced a distance which precluded the possibility of any land lying in
that direction between them and Melville Island. _A north-west passage_
was discovered. All doubt as to the existence of a water communication
between the two great oceans was removed.” On the return journey M’Clure,
hastening forward to order a warm meal for his men at the ship, lost his
way in a snow-storm and had to wander about all night. In the morning he
found that he had passed the _Investigator_ by four miles.

The winter passed away, and, as the spring advanced, preparations were
made for continuing the voyage. On May 21st a curious event occurred.
“About 10.30 a large bear was passing the ship, when Captain M’Clure
killed it with a rifle shot. On examining the stomach, great was the
astonishment of all present at the medley it contained. There were raisins
that had not been long swallowed, a few small pieces of tobacco leaf, bits
of pork fat cut into cubes, which the ship’s cook declared must have been
used for making mock turtle soup, an article often found on board a ship
in a preserved form; and, lastly, fragments of sticking-plaster, which,
from the forms into which they had been cut, must evidently have passed
through the hands of a surgeon.” Better evidences of the proximity of some
other vessel or exploring party could not be afforded. But from which of
them had this miscellaneous collection been derived?

On July 17th the vessel got out of the ice, and soon passed round the
south end of Bank’s Land; but, after many perils, did not succeed in
making a further eastward progress, and had again to go into winter
quarters towards the end of September. This was a severe winter for them.
The scurvy made its appearance, and the provisions were running short.
M’Clure had now decided to keep only thirty men in the vessel, and send
the remainder in two divisions, one up Mackenzie River, the other to
Beechey Island, where Captain Pullen, of H.M.S. _North Star_ was stationed
for purposes of relief. At the beginning of April all the preparations for
these sledge parties had been made, when an unexpected event occurred,
which M’Clure’s own words will best describe:—

[Illustration: CAPTAIN ROBERT LE MESURIER M’CLURE.]

While walking near the ship with the first lieutenant “we perceived a
figure walking rapidly towards us from the rough ice at the entrance of
the bay. From his pace and gestures we both naturally supposed at first
that he was some one of our party pursued by a bear; but, as we approached
him, doubts arose as to who it could be. He was certainly unlike any of
our men; but, recollecting that it was possible some one might be trying
on a new travelling dress preparatory to the departure of our sledges, and
certain that no one else was near, we continued to advance. When within
about two hundred yards of us, this strange figure threw up his arms, and
made gesticulations resembling those used by Esquimaux, besides shouting,
at the top of his voice, words which, from the wind and intense excitement
of the moment, sounded like a wild screech, and this brought us fairly to
a standstill. The stranger came quietly on, and we saw that his face was
as black as ebony; and really at the moment we might be pardoned for
wondering whether he was a denizen of this or the other world; and had he
but given us a glimpse of a tail or a cloven hoof, we should assuredly
have taken to our legs. As it was, we gallantly stood our ground; and, had
the skies fallen upon us we could hardly have been more astonished than
when the dark stranger called out—

“‘I’m Lieutenant Pim, late of the _Herald_, and now in the _Resolute_.
Captain Kellett is in her at Dealy Island!’

“To rush at and seize him by the hand was the first impulse, for the heart
was too full for the tongue to speak. The announcement of relief being
close at hand, when none was supposed to be within the Arctic Circle, was
too sudden, unexpected, and joyous, for our minds to comprehend it at
once. The news flew with lightning rapidity. The ship was all in
commotion; the sick, forgetful of their maladies, leaped from their
hammocks; the artificers dropped their tools, and the lower deck was
cleared of men; for they all rushed for the hatchway, to be assured that a
stranger was actually amongst them, and that his tale was true.
Despondency fled from the ship, and Lieutenant Pim received a welcome
which he will never forget.”

[Illustration: THE SLEDGE PARTY OF THE _RESOLUTE_, UNDER LIEUT. BEDFORD
PIM, FINDING THE _INVESTIGATOR_.]

Of course M’Clure immediately started to visit Captain Kellett. At first
there were some hopes of saving the _Investigator_; but the reports of
both ships’ surgeons on the state of the crew were so unfavourable, that
the men were at once transferred to the _Resolute_ and _Intrepid_, and the
former abandoned. These also had in their turn to be abandoned; but the
united crews in the end reached England in safety. A court-martial was
held on M’Clure, and he was, of course, honourably acquitted. In the
following session a reward of £10,000 was awarded to the officers and crew
of the _Investigator_, and every one of its brave company received a medal
from the Queen, which, doubtless, they have treasured as a memento of the
three dreary yet eventful winters passed by them on the ice.(36)

Among the earlier vessels employed in the search for Franklin were the
_Advance_ and _Rescue_, sent out from America in 1850, at the expense of
H. Grinnell, Esq., a noble-hearted New York merchant. Lieutenant De Haven
had charge of the expedition, while the afterwards celebrated Dr. Kane
accompanied him as surgeon. De Haven fell in with Ross and Penny, and
examined the first winter quarters of Franklin’s party, discovered by the
latter, and of which mention has been already made. He was very much
hampered by the ice, and at the end of the season returned to the United
States from a somewhat fruitless expedition. In addition to the several
expeditions already briefly mentioned here, many attempts, both by land
and sea, to rescue Franklin’s band were made between 1851 and 1855.
Captains Inglefield, Frederick, Sir Edward Belcher, Kellett, M’Clintock
(first voyage), Pullen, Maguire, Dr. Kane, and others, sought in vain for
traces of the lost expedition. As we shall see in our succeeding chapter,
Dr. John Rae, an indefatigable and experienced traveller, was more
successful; whilst the crowning discoveries, which for ever settled the
fate of Franklin, were reserved for the gallant M’Clintock of the ever
memorable _Fox_ expedition.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE FRANKLIN SEARCH.

The Franklin Expedition—The First Relics—Dr. Rae’s Discoveries—The
Government tired of the Search—Noble Lady Franklin—The Voyage of
the _Fox_—Beset in the Ice for Eight Months—Enormous Icebergs—Seal
and Bear Hunts—Unearthly Noises under the Floes—Guy Fawkes in the
Arctic—The Fiftieth Seal Shot—A Funeral—A Merry Christmas—New Year
Celebration—Winter Gales—Their Miraculous Escape—Experience of a
Whaler—Breakfast and Ship lost together.

In October, 1854, the startling news came from Dr. Rae that he had at
length found some definite traces of the lost expedition. For several
years he had been engaged in the search—principally at the expense of the
Hudson’s Bay Company—during which time he had descended the Mackenzie and
Coppermine Rivers, and explored the shores and islands of the Polar Ocean
without success. During his last journey, however, in 1853-4, he had
obtained positive evidence from the Esquimaux regarding the fate of the
_Erebus_ and _Terror_ and their crews. Six years before, in the
spring-time, some forty white men had been seen painfully straggling over
the ice, dragging with them a boat and sledges. They had indicated by
signs that their vessels had been crushed in the ice, and that they were
now trying to reach a habitable part of the country where they might find
game. They were much emaciated from the effects of starvation, exposure,
and unwonted exertion. Later in the same year the corpses of some thirty
persons and some graves were discovered by the Esquimaux on the mainland,
and five other bodies were subsequently found on an island close to it,
and about a day’s journey north-west of Back’s Great Fish River. Several
of them had died in their tents, and one, believed to have been an
officer, was described as lying on his double-barrelled gun, with his
telescope yet strapped to his shoulders. Dr. Rae obtained a number of
relics from the Esquimaux, including pieces of plate and other articles
known to have belonged to the officers. The Government was satisfied that
these facts indicated the entire loss of the party, and the long
outstanding reward of £10,000 offered to any one who should bring
intelligence of their fate was paid to Dr. Rae and his party. Next season,
Mr. John Anderson, a chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, while
making a canoe voyage down Great Fish River to Montreal Island and Point
Ogle, obtained some confirmatory evidence and a few more relics from the
natives.

[Illustration: BACK’S GREAT FISH RIVER.]

The Government had now become tired of the search, and perhaps for good
reason, for its own officers had not been, as we have seen, successful in
obtaining the desired information, while there had been an immense
expenditure of the public money in fruitless expeditions. It cannot,
however, be wondered at that Lady Franklin had not abandoned all hope, and
that she, in common with many others, was not satisfied with the meagre
evidence of their fate so far obtained. That it pointed to the loss of the
larger part of the officers and men could not be doubted, but there was
yet the possibility of some of them surviving at some distant point it
might be among the Esquimaux. Backed by distinguished naval officers and
men of science and influence, she appealed to the Government to make one
more last effort. It was in vain, and there was nothing for it but a
private expedition. Lady Franklin purchased the steam-yacht _Fox_, and
aided, in a limited degree only, by private subscriptions and some
Government aid, fitted her out most completely. She was soon gratified by
obtaining the willing and gratuitous services of several distinguished
officers. Captain (now Sir) F. L. M’Clintock, who had braved the dangers
of the Arctic with (James) Ross, Austin, and Kellett; Lieutenant W. R.
Hobson, an officer of much experience; Captain Allen Young, of the
merchant marine, who not merely threw his services into the cause, but
subscribed £500 in furtherance of it; and Dr. David Walker, an
accomplished surgeon and scientific man—were all volunteers whose services
were secured. “Many worthy old shipmates,” says M’Clintock, “my companions
in the previous Arctic voyages, most readily volunteered their services,
and were as gratefully accepted, for it was my anxious wish to gather
around me well-tried men, who were aware of the duties expected of them
and accustomed to naval discipline. Hence, out of the twenty-five souls
composing our small company, seventeen had previously served in the Arctic
search.” Just before starting, Carl Petersen, now so well known to Arctic
readers on account of his subsequent connection with Dr. Kane’s
expedition, joined the vessel as interpreter. The vessel was amply
provisioned for twenty-eight months, and the supplies included preserved
vegetables, lemon-juice, and pickles, for daily consumption. The Admiralty
caused 6,682 lbs. of pemmican(37) to be prepared for the expedition, and
the Board of Ordnance furnished the arms, powder and shot, rockets, and
powder for ice blasting. M’Clintock, being anxious to retain for his
vessel the privileges she formerly enjoyed as a yacht, was enrolled as a
member of several of the leading clubs.

The _Fox_ left England on the last day of June, 1857, and after visiting
some of the Greenland settlements, turned seawards. Seventy miles to the
west of Upernavik the edge of the “middle ice” was reached, and the vessel
caught in its margin of loose ice. They soon steamed out of what might
have been to a sailing vessel a serious predicament, and closely examined
the field for forty miles without finding an opening. M’Clintock, being
satisfied that he could not force a passage through it across Baffin’s
Bay, steered to the northward, and on August 12th was in Melville Bay,
where the vessel was made fast to an iceberg which was _grounded_ in
fifty-eight fathoms (348 feet) of water. Here they were again beset by the
ice. Alas! this was but the commencement of their troubles. For 242
days—or, in other words, for eight months after this—the little _Fox_ was
helplessly and, as it often appeared, hopelessly, drifting with the ice
packed and piled around her, with but a feeble chance of escape, and with
a very strong probability of being crushed to nothing without a moment’s
warning. Some extracts from M’Clintock’s journal will be found interesting
at this juncture.

“20th. No favourable ice-drift; this detention has become most painful.
The _Enterprise_ reached the open water upon this day in 1848, within
fifty miles of our present position. Unfortunately, our prospects are not
so cheering. There is no relative motion in the floes of ice, except a
gradual closing together, the small spaces and streaks of water being
still further diminished. The temperature has fallen, and is usually below
the freezing point. I feel most keenly the difficulty of my position. We
cannot afford to lose many more days.

“The men enjoy a game of rounders on the ice each evening. Petersen and
Christian are constantly on the look-out for seals, as well as Hobson and
Young occasionally. If in good condition and killed instantaneously the
seals float. Several have already been shot. The liver fried with bacon is
excellent.

“Birds have become scarce. The few we see are returning southward. How
anxiously I watch the ice, weather, barometer, and thermometer! Wind from
any other quarter than south-east would oblige the floe-pieces to
re-arrange themselves, in doing which they would become loose, and then
would be our opportunity to proceed.

“24th. Fine weather, with very light northerly winds. We have drifted
seven miles to the west in the last two days. The ice is now a close pack,
so close that one may walk for many miles over it in any direction by
merely turning a little to the right or left to avoid the small water
spaces. My frequent visits to the crow’s-nest are not inspiriting. How
absolutely distressing this imprisonment is to me no one without similar
experience can form any idea. As yet the crew have but little suspicion
how blighted our prospects are.

“The dreaded reality of wintering in the pack is gradually forcing itself
upon my mind; but I must not write on this subject: it is bad enough to
brood over it unceasingly. We can see the land all round Melville Bay,
from Cape Walker nearly to Cape York. Petersen is indefatigable at seal
shooting; he is so anxious to secure them for our dogs. He says they must
be hit in the head; ‘if you hit him in the beef that is not good,’ meaning
that a flesh wound does not prevent their escaping under the ice. Petersen
and Christian practise an Esquimaux mode of attracting the seals. They
scrape the ice, thus making a noise like that produced by a seal in making
a hole with its flippers, and then place one end of a pole in the water
and put their mouths close to the other end, making noises in imitation of
the snorts and grunts of their intended victims. Whether the device is
successful or not I do not know, but it looks laughable enough.

“Christian came back a few days ago, like a true seal hunter, carrying his
kaiyack on his head, and dragging a seal behind him. Only two years ago
Petersen returned across this bay with Dr. Kane’s retreating party. He
shot a seal, which they devoured, and which, under Providence, saved their
lives. Petersen is a good ice pilot, knows all these coasts as well as, or
better than, any man living, and, from long experience and habits of
observation, is almost unerring in his prognostications of the weather.
Besides his great value to us as interpreter, few men are better adapted
for Arctic work—an ardent sportsman, an agreeable companion, never at a
loss for occupation or amusement, and always contented and sanguine. But
we have, happily, many such dispositions in the _Fox_.

“30th. The whole distance across Melville Bay is 170 miles; of this we
have performed about 120, forty of which we have drifted in the last
fourteen days.

“Yesterday we set to work as usual to warp the ship along, and moved her
ten feet. An insignificant hummock then blocked up the narrow passage. As
we could not push it before us, a two-pound blasting charge was exploded,
and the surface ice was shattered; but such an immense quantity of broken
ice came up from beneath that the difficulty was greatly increased instead
of being removed. This is one of the many instances in which our small
vessel labours under very great disadvantages in ice navigation; we have
neither sufficient manual power, steam power, nor impetus to force the
floes asunder. I am convinced that a steamer of moderate size and power,
with a crew of forty or fifty men, would have got through a hundred miles
of such ice in less time than we have been beset.”

And so it went on from day to day, M’Clintock knowing that it was fast
becoming hopeless to expect a release, but, nevertheless, keeping his men
well employed in preparations for wintering and sledge-travelling. Every
now and then a “lane” of water opening in the ice would mock their hopes.
On one occasion such an opening appeared within 170 yards of the vessel,
and by the aid of steam and blasting powder they advanced 100 yards
towards it, when the floes again closed up tightly, and they had their
trouble for their pains. Numerous large icebergs were around them. Allen
Young examined one, which was 250 feet high, and aground in 83 fathoms
(498 feet) of water. In other words, the enormous mass was nearly 750 feet
from top to bottom. The reader can judge of such dimensions by comparison:
St. Paul’s is only 370 feet in height. The looser ice drifting past this
berg was crushed, and piled up against its sides to a height of fifty
feet.

Meantime they were very successful in the hunt. Seals were caught in
numbers, and their twenty-nine dogs kept in good condition on the meat.
The dogs were at this period kept on the ice outside the ship, and
occasionally one would start out on a solitary expedition, remaining away
all night, but invariably returning for meal-time. On the evening of
November 2nd there was a sudden call “to arms,” and every one, whether
“sleeping, prosing, or schooling”—for Dr. Walker held a school on
board—flew to the ice, where a large he-bear was seen struggling with the
dogs. He had approached within twenty-five yards of the ship before the
quartermaster’s eye detected his indistinct outline against the snow. In
crossing some very thin ice he broke through into the water, where he was
surrounded by yelping dogs. Hobson, Young, and Petersen, had each lodged a
bullet in him, but these only seemed to increase his rage. At length he
got out of the water, and would doubtless have demolished some of the
dogs, when M’Clintock, with a well-directed shot, put a bullet through his
brain. The bear was a large one, and its carcase fed the dogs for nearly a
month. M’Clintock says:—“For the few moments of its duration the chase and
death was exciting. And how strange and novel the scene! A misty moon
affording but scanty light, dark figures gliding singly about, not daring
to approach each other, for the ice trembled under their feet, the enraged
bear, the wolfish, howling dogs, and the bright flashes of the deadly
rifles.”

About this period, and while the weather was reasonably fair, unearthly
noises were heard under the ice, and alarming disruptions occurred close
to the ship. Of one of the former occasions M’Clintock writes:—“A renewal
of ice-crushing within a few hundred yards of us; I can hear it in my bed.
The ordinary sound resembles the roar of distant surf breaking heavily and
continuously; but when heavy masses come in collision with much impetus it
fully realises the justness of Dr. Kane’s descriptive epithet, ‘ice
artillery.’ Fortunately for us, our poor little _Fox_ is well within the
margin of a stout old floe; we are therefore undisturbed spectators of
ice-conflicts which would be irresistible to anything of human
construction. Immediately about the ship all is still, and, as far as
appearances go, she is precisely as she would be in a secure harbour,
housed all over, banked up with snow to the gunwales. In fact, her winter
plumage is so complete that the masts alone are visible.”

Whenever it was possible to employ or amuse the men among these dreary
scenes M’Clintock was most desirous that it should be done. Dr. Walker’s
school was a genuine success, and the rather old school-boys most diligent
in their studies, which were at first confined to the three R’s—reading,
’riting, and ’rithmetic. Later, however, lectures and readings were
organised, and subjects adapted to interest the crew, such as the trade
winds, the atmosphere, the uses of the thermometer, barometer, and so
forth, were chosen. Healthful exercise was afforded to the men in banking
up the ship with snow. On November 5th, says M’Clintock, “in order to vary
our monotonous routine, we determined to celebrate the day.” Extra grog
was issued, and one of Lady Franklin’s thoughtful presents, in the shape
of preserved plum-pudding, helped to mark the occasion. In the evening a
procession was organised, and the crew sallied forth, with drum, gong, and
discord, to burn a huge effigy of Guy Fawkes upon the ice. “Their
blackened faces, extravagant costumes, glaring torches, and savage yells,
frightened away all the dogs; nor was it till after the fireworks were let
off and the traitor consumed that they crept back again. It was
school-night, but the men were up for fun, so gave the Doctor a holiday.”

[Illustration: ESQUIMAUX CATCHING SEALS.]

On November 15th Captain Young shot the fiftieth seal, an event which was
celebrated by the drinking of _the_ bottle of champagne which had been
reserved for the occasion of reaching the North Water—an unhappy failure,
the more keenly felt from being so very unexpected. On November 16th
“Petersen saw and fired a shot into a narwhal which brought the blubber
out. When most Arctic creatures are wounded in the water, blubber more
frequently appears than blood, particularly if the wound is superficial;
it spreads over the surface of the water like oil. Bills of fare vary much
in Greenland. I have inquired of Petersen, and he tells me that the
Greenland Esquimaux (there are many Greenlanders of Danish origin) are not
agreed as to which of their animals affords the most delicious food; some
of them prefer reindeer venison, others think more favourably of young
dog, the flesh of which, he asserts, is ‘just like the beef of sheep.’ He
says a Danish captain, who had acquired the taste, provided some for his
guests, and they praised his _mutton_! After dinner he sent for the skin
of the animal, which was no other than a large red dog! This occurred in
Greenland, where his Danish guests had resided for many years, far removed
from European _mutton_. Baked puppy is a real delicacy all over Polynesia;
at the Sandwich Islands I was once invited to a feast, and had to feign
disappointment as well as I could when told that puppy was so extremely
scarce it could not be procured in time, and therefore sucking-pig was
substituted!”

On December 2nd an event occurred which cast a gloom over the little
party. One of the engineers, Mr. Scott, had fallen down a hatchway, and
died shortly afterwards from the effect of internal injuries then
received. “A funeral at sea,” says M’Clintock, “is always peculiarly
impressive; but this evening, at seven o’clock, as we gathered around the
sad remains of poor Scott, reposing under a Union Jack, and read the
Burial Service by the light of lanterns, the effect could not fail to
awaken very serious emotions.

[Illustration: A NATURAL ARCH IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS.]

“The greater part of the Church Service was read on board, under shelter
of the housing; the body was then placed upon a sledge, and drawn by the
messmates of the deceased to a short distance from the ship, where a hole
through the ice had been cut; it was then ‘committed to the deep,’ and the
service completed. What a scene it was! I shall never forget it. The
lonely _Fox_, almost buried in snow, completely isolated from the
habitable world, her colours half-mast high, and bell mournfully tolling;
our little procession slowly marching over the rough surface of the frozen
sea, guided by lanterns and direction-posts, amid the dark and dreary
depth of Arctic winter; the death-like stillness, the intense cold, and
threatening aspect of a murky overcast sky; and all this heightened by one
of those strange lunar phenomena which are but seldom seen even here—a
complete halo encircling the moon, through which passed a horizontal band
of pale light that encompassed the heavens; above the moon appeared the
segments of two other halos, and there were also mock moons, to the number
of six. The misty atmosphere lent a very ghastly hue to this singular
display, which lasted for rather more than an hour.

“27th. Our Christmas was a very cheerful, merry one. The men were supplied
with several additional articles, such as hams, plum-puddings, preserved
gooseberries and apples, nuts, sweetmeats, and Burton ale. After Divine
Service they decorated the lower deck with flags, and made an immense
display of food. The officers came down with me to see their preparations.
We were really astonished! Their mess-tables were laid out like the
counters in a confectioner’s shop, with apple and gooseberry tarts, plum
and sponge cakes in pyramids, besides various other unknown puffs, cakes,
and loaves of all sizes and shapes. We bake all our own bread, and
excellent it is. In the background were nicely-browned hams, meat-pies,
cheeses, and other substantial articles. Rum-and-water in wine-glasses and
plum cake were handed to us. We wished them a happy Christmas, and
complimented them on their taste and spirit in getting up such a display.
Our silken sledge-banners had been borrowed for the occasion, and were
regarded with deference and peculiar pride.

“In the evening the officers were enticed down amongst the men again, and
at a late hour I was requested, as a great favour, to come down and see
how much they were enjoying themselves. I found them in the highest
good-humour with themselves and all the world. They were perfectly sober,
and singing songs, each in his turn. I expressed great satisfaction at
having seen them enjoying themselves so much and so rationally; I could
therefore the better describe it to Lady Franklin, who was deeply
interested in everything relating to them. I drank their healths, and
hoped our position next year would be more suitable for our purpose. We
all joined in drinking the healths of Lady Franklin and Miss Cracroft, and
amid the acclamations which followed I returned to my cabin, immensely
gratified by such an exhibition of genuine good-feeling, such veneration
for Lady Franklin, and such loyalty to the cause of the expedition. It was
very pleasant also that they had taken the most cheering view of our
future prospects. I verily believe I was the happiest individual on board
that happy evening.” New Year’s Day was a second edition of Christmas. At
midnight on December 31st the arrival of 1858 was announced by the band,
consisting of two flutes and an accordion, striking up at the cabin door.
It was accompanied by _other_ music from frying-pans, gridirons, kettles,
pots, and pans, in the hands of the crew, who were determined to have as
much fun as possible under the circumstances.

The monotonous winter passed on, and still the _Fox_ remained enclosed in
the pack, although occasional disruptions of the ice occurred, some of
them of an alarming nature. The field one day cracked within ten yards of
the ship, and on another occasion M’Clintock, returning from a visit to an
iceberg, was cut off close to the vessel by the sudden opening of a long
streak of water, and had to run a considerable distance before he found a
crossing place, where the jagged edges of the floe met. The little yacht
bore out bravely, although one day hurled up at bows and the next at
stern. Strong gales now and again blew furiously, and drifting, whirling
snow prevented them from seeing or hearing a few yards off. On March 25th,
with a strong north-west wind blowing, the ship rocked in the ice and
rubbed against it, straining and groaning in a manner which caused some
alarm. The boats, provisions, sledges, knapsacks, and other equipments,
were kept ready for a hasty departure. As long as their friendly barrier
lasted there was little cause for fear; but who could tell the moment when
it might be demolished, and the ship crack like a nutshell among the
grinding, crashing ice masses? On the 27th and 28th strong gales broke up
the ice to some extent, and in two days the _Fox_ drifted thirty-nine
miles. But the story would be as monotonous in the telling as was their
life in reality were we to detail it day by day. Suffice it to say, on
April 24th, after they had drifted 1,385 miles, the vessel, although not
by any means clear of the ice, which was dashed against it by the swell,
and which often choked their screw and brought the engines to a dead stop,
was out of imminent danger. Their escape had been little short of
miraculous, and a sailing vessel, however strong, would probably never
have so successfully braved the dangers of the pack as did the little
steam-yacht _Fox_. Its commander writes feelingly on the 26th:—“At sea!
How am I to describe the events of the last two days? It has pleased God
to accord to us a deliverance in which His merciful protection
contrasts—how strongly!—with our own utter helplessness; as if the
successive mercies vouchsafed to us during our long winter and mysterious
ice-drift had been concentrated and repeated in a single act. Thus
forcibly does His great goodness come home to the mind!” Their troubles,
anxieties, and doubts, were over, and two days later they were safely
anchored off Holsteinborg, enjoying the hospitalities of the Danes.

M’Clintock refers, _àpropos_ of his own experience, to a whaler, whose
vessel, nipped in the ice, was lost in little less time than it takes to
tell the story. “It was a beautiful morning; they had almost reached the
North Water, and were anticipating a very successful voyage; the steward
had just reported breakfast ready, when Captain Deuchars, seeing the floes
closing together ahead of the ship, remained on deck to see her pass
safely between them. But they closed too quickly; the vessel was _almost_
through when the points of ice caught her sides, abreast of the
mizen-mast, and, passing through, held the wreck up for a few minutes,
barely long enough for the crew to escape and save their boats! Poor
Deuchars thus suddenly lost his breakfast and his ship; within _ten
minutes_ her royal yards disappeared beneath the surface.” The vessel was
a strong one, supposed to be exactly adapted for whaling, but the powerful
nip she received was too much for her. The _Fox_, in spite of her long
imprisonment, was far more fortunate.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LAST TRACES.

M’Clintock’s Summer Explorations—The Second Winter—Sledging
Parties—Snow Huts—Near the Magnetic Pole—Meeting with
Esquimaux—Franklin Relics obtained—Objection of Esquimaux to Speak
of the Dead—Hobson’s Discovery of the Franklin Records—Fate of the
_Erebus_ and _Terror_—Large Quantity of Relics Purchased from the
Natives—The Skeleton on the Beach—Fate of Crozier’s Party—“As they
Fell they Died”—The Record at Point Victory—Boat with Human
Remains Discovered—The Wrecks never Seen—Return of the _Fox_.

During the summer of 1858 M’Clintock made several detailed examinations of
Eclipse Sound, Pond’s Bay, Peel Strait, Regent’s Inlet, and Bellot Strait,
without discovering the faintest trace of the lost party. The _Fox_ was
again to winter in the Arctic—this time, however, under favourable
circumstances—Port Kennedy, a harbour of Bellot Strait, being selected.
The early winter of 1858-9 passed away without any occurrences of great
importance, the ship being safely placed and the crew still well
provisioned. One important member of the expedition, Mr. Brand, the chief
engineer, died of apoplexy on November 7th, and, in consequence,
M’Clintock himself had, at a later period, not merely to navigate the
vessel, but to manage the engines.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN (AFTERWARDS SIR LEOPOLD) M’CLINTOCK.]

Again their Christmas was spent in the happiest manner, and, says
M’Clintock, “with a degree of loyalty to the good old English custom at
once spirited and refreshing. All the good things which could possibly be
collected together appeared upon the snow-white deal tables of the men as
the officers and myself walked, by invitation, round the lower deck.
Venison, beer, and a fresh supply of clay pipes, appeared to be the most
prized luxuries; but the abundance and variety of the eatables, tastefully
laid out, were such as well might support the delusion which all seemed
desirous of imposing upon themselves—that they were in a land of plenty—in
fact, _all but_ at home! We contributed a large cheese and some preserves,
and candles superseded the ordinary smoky lamps. With so many comforts,
and the existence of so much genuine good feeling, their evening was a
joyous one, enlivened also by songs and music.” Without, the scene was
widely different. A fierce nor’-wester howled through the rigging, the
snow-drift rustled swiftly past, no star appeared through the oppressive
gloom, and the thermometer varied between 76° and 80° _below the freezing_
point. At one time it was impossible to visit the magnetic observatory,
although only 210 yards distant, and with a rope stretched along, breast
high, upon poles the whole way. After making all proper arrangements,
M’Clintock and Young started out on February 17th, in different
directions, with sledges and searching parties. The cold was intense: on
the 18th the thermometer registered 48° (80° below freezing); and even the
poor dogs felt the effects, their feet becoming lame and sore in
consequence of the hardness of the snow.

[Illustration: AN ESQUIMAUX SLEDGE AND TEAM OF DOGS.]

We are now approaching the _dénoûment_—the climax of the painful story
which tells us of the sad fate of two whole ships’ companies amid the
perils and horror of the frozen seas. We cannot do better than present the
narrative for the most part in the graphic words of M’Clintock. “On the
1st of March,” he writes, “we halted to encamp at about the position of
the Magnetic Pole, for no cairn remains to mark the spot. I had almost
concluded that my journey would prove to be a work of labour in vain,
because hitherto no traces of Esquimaux had been met with, and in
consequence of the reduced state of our provisions and the wretched
condition of the poor dogs—six out of the fifteen being quite useless—I
could only advance one more march.

“But we had done nothing more than look _ahead_; when we halted and turned
round, great indeed was my surprise and joy to see four men walking after
us. Petersen and I immediately buckled on our revolvers, and advanced to
meet them. The natives halted, made fast their dogs, laid down their
spears, and received us without any evidence of surprise....

“We gave them to understand that we were anxious to barter with them, and
very cautiously approached the real object of our visit. A naval button
upon one of their dresses afforded the opportunity; it came, they said,
from some white people who were starved upon an island where there are
salmon (that is, in a river), and that the iron of which their knives were
made came from the same place. One of these men said he had been to the
island to obtain wood and iron, but none of them had seen the white men.
Another man had been to ‘Ei-wil-lik’ (Repulse Bay), and counted on his
fingers seven individuals of Rae’s party whom he remembered having
seen....

“Despite the gale which howled outside, we spent a comfortable night in
our roomy hut.

“Next morning the entire village population arrived, amounting to about
forty-five souls, from aged people to infants in arms, and bartering
commenced very briskly. First of all we purchased all the relics of the
lost expedition, consisting of six silver spoons and forks, a silver medal
the property of Mr. A. McDonald, assistant surgeon, part of a gold chain,
several buttons, and knives made of the iron and wood of the wreck; also
bows and arrows constructed of materials obtained from the same source.
Having secured these, we purchased a few frozen salmon, some seal’s
blubber, and venison, but could not prevail upon them to part with more
than one of their fine dogs. One of their sledges was made of two stout
pieces of wood, which might have been a boat’s keel.

“All the old people recollected the visit of the _Victory_. An old man
told me his name was ‘Ooblooria.’ I recollected that Sir James Ross had
employed a man of that name as a guide, and reminded him of it; he was, in
fact, the same individual, and he inquired after Sir James by his
Esquimaux name of ‘Agglugga.’

“I inquired after the man who was furnished with a wooden leg by the
carpenter of the _Victory_; no direct answer was given, but his daughter
was pointed out to me. Petersen explained to me that they do not like
alluding in any way to the dead, and that, as my question was not
answered, it was certain the man was no longer amongst the living.”

M’Clintock returned to the _Fox_, having travelled 420 miles in their
twenty-five days’ absence, and having also completed the survey of the
coast line of continental America, thereby adding about 120 miles to our
charts. On reaching the ship the crew was at once assembled, and the
information obtained laid before the men, M’Clintock pointing out that one
of the ships still remained unaccounted for, and that they must carry out
to the full all the projected lines of search.

After several sledge journeys to the various depôts previously made, to
collect provisions deposited there, the search was resumed, M’Clintock and
Hobson leading two parties in different directions.

On their return M’Clintock writes as follows, under date of June 24th:—“I
have visited Montreal Island, completed the exploration and circuit of
King William’s Island, passing on foot through the only feasible
North-west Passage; but all this is as nothing to the interest attached to
the _Franklin records_ picked up by Hobson, and now safe in my possession.
We now know the fate of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_. The sole object of our
voyage has at length been completed, and we anxiously await the time when
escape from these bleak regions will become practicable.”

On April 20th two families of the same people previously encountered at
Cape Victoria were found in their snow huts upon the ice. M’Clintock
says:—“After much anxious inquiry we learned that two ships had been seen
by the natives of King William’s Island: one of them was seen to sink in
deep water, and nothing was obtained from her, a circumstance at which
they expressed much regret; but the other was forced on shore by the ice,
where they suppose she still remains, but is much broken. From this ship
they have obtained most of their wood, &c., and Oot-loo-lik is the name of
the place where she grounded.

“Formerly many natives lived there, now very few remain. All the natives
have obtained plenty of wood.

“The most of this information was given us by the young man who sold the
knife. Old Oo-na-lee, who drew the rough chart for me in March to show
where the ship sank, now answered our questions respecting the one forced
on shore; not a syllable about her did he mention on the former occasion,
although we asked whether they knew of only one ship. I think he would
willingly have kept us in ignorance of a wreck being upon their coasts,
and that the young man unwittingly made it known to us.

“The latter also told us that the body of a man was found on board the
ship; that he must have been a very large man, and had long teeth: this is
all he recollected having been told, for he was quite a child at the time.

“They both told us it was in the fall of the year—that is, August or
September—when the ships were destroyed; that all the white people went
away to the ‘large river,’ taking a boat or boats with them, and that in
the following winter their bones were found there.”(38)

On May 7th, to avoid snow-blindness, the party commenced night marching.
Crossing over from Matty Island towards the King William’s Island shore,
they continued their march southward until midnight, when they had the
good fortune to arrive at an inhabited snow village. They halted at a
little distance, and pitched their tent, the better to secure small
articles from being stolen whilst they bartered with them. M’Clintock
purchased from them six pieces of silver plate bearing the crests or
initials of Franklin, Crozier, Fairholme, and McDonald; they also sold
them bows and arrows of English woods, uniform and other buttons, and
offered a heavy sledge made of two short stout pieces of curved wood,
which no mere boat could have furnished them with; but this, of course,
could not be taken away; the silver spoons and forks were readily sold for
four needles each. The narrative continues:—

“Having obtained all the relics they possessed, I purchased some seal’s
flesh, blubber, frozen venison, dried and frozen salmon, and sold some of
my puppies. They told us it was five days’ journey to the wreck—one day up
the inlet still in sight, and four days overland: this would carry them to
the western coast of King William’s Land; they added that but little now
remained of the wreck which was accessible, their countrymen having
carried almost everything away. In answer to an inquiry, they said she was
without masts; the question gave rise to some laughter amongst them, and
they spoke to each other about _fire_, from which Petersen thought they
had burnt the masts through close to the deck in order to get them down.

“There had been _many books_, they said, but all have long ago been
destroyed by the weather. The ship was forced on shore in the fall of the
year by ice. She had not been visited during this past winter, and an old
woman and a boy were shown to us who were the last to visit the wreck;
they said they had been at it during the winter of 1857-8.

“Petersen questioned the woman closely, and she seemed anxious to give all
the information in her power. She said many of the white men dropped by
the way as they went to the Great River; that some of them were buried and
some were not. They did not themselves witness this, but discovered their
bodies during the winter following.”

Having examined Montreal and King William’s Island, they started on the
return journey. After three weeks’ travel M’Clintock continues:—“We were
now upon the shore along which the retreating crews must have marched. My
sledges, of course, travelled upon the sea-ice close along the shore; and
although the depth of snow which covered the beach deprived us of almost
every hope, yet we kept a very sharp look-out for traces; nor were we
unsuccessful. Shortly after midnight of the 25th of May, when slowly
walking along a gravel ridge near the beach, which the winds kept
partially bare of snow, I came upon a human skeleton, partly exposed, with
here and there a few fragments of clothing appearing through the snow. The
skeleton—now perfectly bleached—was lying upon its face, the limbs and
smaller bones either dissevered or gnawed away by small animals.

“A most careful examination of the spot was, of course, made, the snow
removed, and every scrap of clothing gathered up. A pocket-book afforded
strong grounds for hope that some information might be subsequently
obtained respecting the unfortunate owner and the calamitous march of the
lost crews, but at the time it was frozen hard. The substance of that
which we gleaned upon the spot may thus be summed up:—

[Illustration: CAPE YORK, MELVILLE BAY.]

“This victim was a young man, slightly built, and perhaps above the common
height; the dress appeared to be that of a steward or officer’s servant,
the loose bow-knot in which his neck-handkerchief was tied not being used
by officers or seamen. In every particular the dress confirmed our
conjectures as to his rank or office in the late expedition—the blue
jacket with slashed sleeves and braided edging, and the pilot-cloth
great-coat with plain covered buttons. We found a clothes-brush near and a
horn pocket-comb. This poor man seems to have selected the bare ridge-top
as affording the least tiresome walking, and to have fallen on his face in
the position in which we found him.

“It was a melancholy truth that the old woman spoke when she said, ‘They
fell down and died as they walked along.’

“I do not think the Esquimaux had discovered this skeleton, or they would
have carried off the brush and comb. Superstition prevents them from
disturbing their own dead, but would not keep them from appropriating the
property of the white man, if in any way useful to them. Dr. Rae obtained
a piece of flannel marked ‘F. D. V., 1845,’ from the Esquimaux of Boothia
or Repulse Bay; it had doubtless been a part of poor Des Vœux’s garments.”

It is impossible with the space at command to give in detailed form the
interesting narrative of M’Clintock’s and Hobson’s careful explorations.
“The Voyage of the _Fox_” should be read in the original by all interested
in Arctic adventure, for the modest and graphic account of it given by
M’Clintock bears the impress of absolute truth, without the slightest
attempt at fine writing or exaggeration.

[Illustration: RELICS BROUGHT BACK BY THE FRANKLIN SEARCH EXPEDITION.]

About twelve miles from Cape Herschel M’Clintock found a small cairn,
built by Hobson’s party, and containing a note for the commander. He had
reached this, his extreme point, six days previously, without having seen
anything of the wreck or of natives, but he had found a record—the record,
so ardently sought for, of the Franklin expedition—at Point Victory, on
the north-west coast of King William’s Land. It read as follows:—

“‘_28th May, 1847._—H.M. ships _Erebus_ and _Terror_ wintered in the ice
in lat. 70° 05’ N., long. 98° 23’ W.

“‘Having wintered, in 1846-7, at Beechey Island, in lat. 74° 43’ 28" N.,
long. 91° 39’ 15" W., after having ascended Wellington Channel to lat.
77°, and returned by the west side of Cornwallis Island.

“‘All well.

“‘Party, consisting of two officers and six men, left the ships on Monday,
24th May, 1847.

“‘GM. GORE, Lieut.
“‘CHAS. F. DES VŒUX, Mate.’

“Had this been all, it would have been the record of a grand success. But,
alas! round the margin of the paper upon which Lieutenant Gore, in 1847,
wrote those words of hope and promise another had subsequently written the
following words:—

“‘_April 25th, 1848._—H.M. ships _Terror_ and _Erebus_ were deserted on
the 22nd April, five leagues NNW. of this, having been beset since 12th
September, 1846. The officers and crews, consisting of 105 souls, under
the command of Captain F. R. M. Crozier, landed here in lat. 69° 37’ 42",
long. 98° 41’ W. Sir John Franklin died on the 11th June, 1847; and the
total loss by deaths in the expedition has been, to this date, nine
officers and fifteen men.

“‘(Signed) “‘(Signed)
“‘F. R. M. CROZIER, “‘JAMES FITZJAMES,
“‘Captain, and Senior Officer. “‘Captain H.M.S.
_Erebus_.
“‘And start (on) to-morrow, 26th, for
Back’s Fish River.’(39)

“In the short space of twelve months how mournful had become the history
of Franklin’s expedition! how changed from the cheerful ‘All well’ of
Graham Gore! The spring of 1847 found them within ninety miles of the
known sea off the coast of America; and to men who had already, in two
seasons, sailed over 500 miles of previously unexplored waters, how
confident must they have then felt that that forthcoming navigable season
of 1847 would see their ships pass over so short an intervening space! It
was ruled otherwise. Within a month after Lieutenant Gore placed the
record on Point Victory the much-loved leader of the expedition, Sir John
Franklin, was dead; and the following spring found Captain Crozier, upon
whom the command had devolved, at King William’s Land, endeavouring to
save his starving men, 105 souls in all, from a terrible death, by
retreating to the Hudson’s Bay territories up the Back or Great Fish
River.

“A sad tale was never told in fewer words. There is something deeply
touching in their extreme simplicity, and they show in the strongest
manner that both the leaders of this retreating party were actuated by the
loftiest sense of duty, and met with calmness and decision the fearful
alternative of a last bold struggle for life rather than perish without
effort on board their ships. We well know that the _Erebus_ and _Terror_
were only provisioned up to July, 1848.”

M’Clintock reached the western extremity of King William’s Island on May
29th, and on the following day encamped alongside a deserted boat of
considerable size, which had already been examined by Hobson, who had left
a note. A quantity of tattered clothing, &c., remained near it.

“But,” says M’Clintock, “all these were after observations; there was that
in the boat that transfixed us with awe. It was portions of two human
skeletons. One was that of a slight young person; the other of a large,
strongly-made, middle-aged man. The former was found in the bow of the
boat, but in too much disturbed a state to enable Hobson to judge whether
the sufferer had died there; large and powerful animals, probably wolves,
had destroyed much of this skeleton, which may have been that of an
officer. Near it we found the fragment of a pair of worked slippers....
Besides these slippers there were a pair of small, strong, shooting
half-boots. The other skeleton was in a somewhat more perfect state(40),
and was enveloped with clothes and furs; it lay across the boat, under the
after thwart. Close beside it were found five watches; and there were two
double-barrelled guns—one barrel in each loaded and cocked—standing muzzle
upwards against the boat’s side. It may be imagined with what deep
interest these sad relics were scrutinised, and how anxiously every
fragment of clothing was turned over in search of pockets and
pocket-books, journals, or even names. Five or six small books were found,
all of them Scriptural or devotional works, except the ‘Vicar of
Wakefield.’ One little book, ‘Christian Melodies,’ bore an inscription on
the title-page from the donor to G. G. (Graham Gore?). A small Bible
contained numerous marginal notes and whole passages underlined. Besides
these books, the covers of a New Testament and Prayer Book were found.

“Amongst an amazing quantity of clothing there were seven or eight pairs
of boots of various kinds—cloth winter boots, sea-boots, heavy
ankle-boots, and strong shoes. I noted that there were silk
handkerchiefs—black, white, and figured—towels, soap, sponge, tooth-brush,
and hair-combs; macintosh gun-cover marked outside with paint A 12, and
lined with black cloth. Besides these articles we found twine, nails,
saws, files, bristles, wax-ends, sailmakers’ palms, powder, bullets, shot,
cartridges, wads, leather cartridge-case, knives—clasp and dinner
ones—needle and thread cases, slow-match, several bayonet-scabbards cut
down into knife-sheaths, two rolls of sheet-lead, and, in short, a
quantity of articles of one description and another truly astonishing in
variety, and such as, for the most part, modern sledge-travellers in these
regions would consider a mere accumulation of dead weight, but slightly
useful, and very likely to break down the strength of the sledge crews.

“The only provisions we could find were tea and chocolate: of the former
very little remained, but there were nearly forty pounds of the latter.
These articles alone could never support life in such a climate, and we
found neither biscuit nor meat of any kind. A portion of tobacco, and an
empty pemmican-tin capable of containing twenty-two pounds weight, were
discovered. The tin was marked with an E; it had probably belonged to the
_Erebus_. None of the fuel originally brought from the ships remained in
or about the boat, but there was no lack of it, for a drift-tree was lying
on the beach close at hand, and had the party been in need of fuel they
would have used the paddles and bottom boards of the boat.” In the after
part of the boat twenty-six pieces of plate—spoons and forks—were found,
bearing the crests or initials of Franklin and his officers. The reader
can see all these interesting relics at Greenwich Hospital, and he will
hardly examine them without dropping a tear at the remembrances they
recall.

Although M’Clintock and Hobson put forth almost superhuman effort to
discover the wrecks, they were never found, and the probability is that
they had broken up and were carried to sea at the disruption of the ice.
After making every attempt possible to discover further traces of the lost
party, M’Clintock and the rest returned to the _Fox_. On August 10th the
vessel’s bows were pointed homewards, and forty days later she reached the
English Channel, after one of the most remarkable and successful Arctic
voyages ever made.

The narrative is finished. It records one of the saddest tragedies of
modern days. Amidst all the perils of wreck, and fire, and flood, there
has generally been a loophole of escape for some few; here every man of
those gallant crews perished, the larger part while helplessly
endeavouring to reach a haven of safety. “They fell down and died as they
walked along.”

The Arctic medal was awarded to all the officers and crew of the _Fox_,
and one of the first uses made by the men of their pay was to purchase for
Captain M’Clintock a handsome gold chronometer. That brave and successful
explorer was deservedly fêted and honoured wherever he went, and, as most
readers are aware, was subsequently knighted.

CHAPTER XXV.

KANE’S MEMORABLE EXPEDITION.

Dr. Kane’s Expedition—His short but eventful Career—Departure of
the _Advance_—Dangers of the Voyage—Grinding Ice—Among the Bergs—A
Close Shave—Nippings—The Brig towed from the Ice-beach—Smith’s
Sound—Rensselaer Harbour—Winter Quarters—Return of an Exploring
Party—Fearful Sufferings—To the Rescue—Saved—Curious Effects of
Intense Cold.

Although the expedition about to be described left the United States in
1852—several years before M’Clintock’s memorable voyage—and although it
was organised especially for the Franklin search, its consideration has
been deferred till now, in order not to interfere with the narrative of
the discoveries relative to the lost expedition. Dr. Kane was not, indeed,
to share with Rae and M’Clintock the honour of determining the fate of
Franklin and his brave companions, but he was, and long must be, destined
to hold a foremost place among the great Arctic explorers of all ages,
while his work is one of the classics of Arctic literature.(41)

Dr. Kane was in the field of action he eventually chose one of the most
ardent and enthusiastic workers; indeed, the untiring energy and
perseverance with which he laboured in the face of all difficulties
entitle him to be considered a model explorer. His short life had been
full of adventure. Born on February 3rd, 1820, he became at a very early
age an assistant-surgeon in the United States navy, and visited most parts
of the world, including China, India, Ceylon, and the coasts of Africa. At
a station of the latter he was stricken down with “coast fever,” and never
entirely recovered from the effects. He was engaged in the Mexican war
with the United States, and succeeded in passing through the enemy’s lines
with an oral despatch to the American head-quarters, when several others
had failed. On the voyage from New Orleans to Mexico he was shipwrecked,
and was afterwards laid low with typhus fever in the latter country. His
first visit to the Arctic was, as already mentioned, in company with
Lieutenant De Haven. He died at Havana, shortly after his return from the
expedition we are about to record. His slight frame had been too severely
tested; the flesh was weaker than the spirit; and at the early age of
thirty-seven he passed away, leaving behind a reputation scarcely second
to that of any Arctic explorer. Ambitious always, he was nevertheless one
of the most thoughtful and humane of commanders. When his men were almost
starving, he travelled, sometimes alone, long distances on the ice and
snow for succour and relief; when nearly every member of his party was
stricken down with scurvy, he nursed, cooked, and cared for them,
oft-times when enfeebled, downhearted, and scarcely able to stand himself.
His naval education had made him appreciate the value of discipline, but
where humanity was concerned self-abnegation was his leading
characteristic. Kane could most assuredly be termed a _practical_
Christian. All honour to his memory!

[Illustration: WHALE SOUND, GREENLAND]

Dr. Kane received special orders in December, 1852, from the then
Secretary of the United States navy, “to conduct an expedition to the
Arctic seas in search of Sir John Franklin.” The noble-hearted American
merchant, Mr. Grinnell of New York, who had organised De Haven’s
expedition, placed a brig, the _Advance_, at his disposal. Mr. Peabody,
the American benefactor of the London poor, contributed handsomely to the
outfit, which was aided by several scientific institutions. The United
States Government detailed ten officers and men from the navy, which with
seven others made up the full complement of the expedition. Leaving New
York on May 30th, 1853, South Greenland was reached on July 1st. Several
Danish settlements were visited on the way north, where they received much
hospitality, and obtained skins, fur clothing, and native dogs.

As we have already seen, Baffin was the discoverer of Smith’s Sound. From
the year 1616, the date of his visit, until Kane explored it, no European
or American had sailed over its waters. The voyage of the _Advance_
thither was one of peril and difficulty. Storm succeeded storm; the little
brig was constantly beset and nearly crushed in the ice, and sometimes
heeled over to such an extent that it seemed a miracle when she righted.
Dr. Kane’s description of some of the dangers through which they passed is
very graphic.

“At seven in the morning we were close on to the piling masses. We dropped
our heaviest anchor with the desperate hope of winding the brig; but there
was no withstanding the ice-torrent that followed us. We had only time to
fasten a spar as a buoy to the chain, and let her slip. So went our best
bower.

“Down we went upon the gale again, helplessly scraping along a lee of ice
seldom less than thirty feet thick; one floe, measured by a line as we
tried to fasten to it, more than forty. I had seen such ice only once
before, and never in such rapid motion. One upturned mass rose above our
gunwale, smashing in our bulwarks, and depositing half a ton of ice in a
lump upon our decks. Our staunch little brig bore herself through all this
wild adventure as if she had a charmed life.

“But a new enemy came in sight ahead. Directly in our way, just beyond the
line of floe-ice against which we were alternately sliding and thumping,
was a group of bergs. We had no power to avoid them; the only question
was, whether we were to be dashed in pieces against them, or whether they
might not offer us some providential nook of refuge against the storm. But
as we neared them we perceived that they were at some distance from the
floe-edge, and separated from it by an interval of open water. Our hopes
rose as the gale drove us towards this passage and into it; and we were
ready to exult when, from some unexplained cause—probably an eddy of the
wind against the lofty ice-walls—we lost our headway. Almost at the same
moment we saw that the bergs were not at rest, that with a momentum of
their own they were bearing down upon the other ice, and that it must be
our fate to be crushed between the two.

“Just then a broad sconce-piece, or low water-washed berg, came driving up
from the southward. The thought flashed upon me of one of our escapes in
Melville Bay; and as the sconce moved rapidly alongside us, M’Garry
managed to plant an anchor on its slope and hold on to it by a whale line.
It was an anxious moment. Our noble tow-horse, whiter than the pale horse
that seemed to be pursuing us, hauled us bravely on, the spray dashing
over his windward flanks, and his forehead ploughing up the lesser ice as
if in scorn. The bergs encroached upon us as we advanced; our channel
narrowed to a width of perhaps forty feet; we braced the yards to clear
the impending ice-walls.... We passed clear, but it was a close shave—so
close that our port quarter-boat would have been crushed if we had not
taken it in from the davits—and found ourselves under the lee of a berg,
in a comparative open lead. Never did heart-tried men acknowledge with
more gratitude their merciful deliverance from a wretched death.” And so
the narrative continues—a long series of hairbreadth escapes from the
nippings and crushing of the ice. Kane says at this juncture:—

“During the whole of the scenes I have been trying to describe I could not
help being struck by the composed and manly demeanour of my comrades. The
turmoil of ice under a heavy sea often conveys the impression of danger
when the reality is absent; but in this fearful passage the parting of our
hawsers, the loss of our anchors, the abrupt crushing of our stoven
bulwarks, and the actual deposit of ice upon our decks, would have tried
the nerves of the most experienced ice-man. All—officers and men—worked
alike. Upon each occasion of collision with the ice which formed our lee
coast, efforts were made to carry out lines, and some narrow escapes were
incurred by the zeal of the parties leading them into positions of danger.
Mr. Bonsall avoided being crushed by leaping to a floating fragment; and
no less than four of our men at one time were carried down by the drift,
and could only be recovered by a relief party after the gale had subsided.

“As our brig, borne on by the ice, commenced her ascent of the berg, the
suspense was oppressive. The immense blocks piled against her, range upon
range, pressing themselves under her keel and throwing her over upon her
side, till, urged by the successive accumulations, she rose slowly, and as
if with convulsive efforts, along the sloping wall. Still there was no
relaxation of the impelling force. Shock after shock, jarring her to her
very centre, she continued to mount steadily on her precarious cradle. But
for the groaning of her timbers and the heavy sough of the floes we might
have heard a pin drop; and then as she settled down into her old position,
quietly taking her place among the broken rubbish, there was a deep
breathing silence, as though all were waiting for some signal before the
clamour of congratulation and comment should burst forth.” After the storm
had abated, the crew went on the ice-beach and towed the vessel a
considerable distance, being harnessed up, as Kane says, “like mules on a
canal.” Shortly afterwards a council was called to consider the
feasibility of proceeding northward or returning southward to find a
wintering place, and the latter idea was the more favourably received.
After some further discussion it was resolved to cross the bay in which
they now were to its northern headland, and thence despatch sledging
parties in quest of a suitable spot to “dock” the brig. On the way across
the vessel grounded and heeled over, throwing men out of their berths and
setting the cabin-deck on fire by upsetting the stove. She was surrounded
with ice, which piled up in immense heaps. These alarming experiences were
repeated on several occasions. Dr. Kane meantime took a whale-boat, well
sheathed with tin, ahead of the brig, and after about twenty-four hours
came to a solid ice-shelf or table, clinging round the base of the cliffs.
They hauled up the boat and then prepared for a sledge journey. The rough
and difficult nature of their icy route may be inferred from the fact that
it took them five days to make a _direct_ distance of forty miles, while
they had travelled twice that distance in reality. They then arrived at a
bay into which a large river fell. This Kane considers the largest stream
of North Greenland; its width at the mouth was three-fourths of a mile.
Its course was afterwards pursued to an interior glacier, from the base of
which it was found to issue in numerous streams. By the banks of this
river they encamped, lulled by the unusual music of running waters.
“Here,” says Kane, “protected from the frost by the infiltration of the
melted snows, and fostered by the reverberation of solar heat from the
rocks, we met a flower growth, which, though drearily Arctic in its type,
was rich in variety and colouring. Amid festuca and other tufted grasses
twinkled the purple lychnis, and the white star of the chickweed; and, not
without its pleasing associations, I recognised a solitary hesperis—the
Arctic representative of the wallflowers of home.” After a careful
examination of the bays and anchorages, Rensselaer Harbour, the spot where
he had left the _Advance_, was chosen for their winter quarters, and a
storehouse and observatory were erected ashore.

The return of an exploring party, which had suffered severely, is well
described by Kane. “We were at work cheerfully, sewing away at the skins
of some mocassins by the blaze of our lamps, when, towards midnight, we
heard the noise of steps above, and the next minute Sontag, Ohlsen, and
Petersen, came down into the cabin. Their manner startled me even more
than their unexpected appearance on board. They were swollen and haggard,
and hardly able to speak.

“Their story was a fearful one. They had left their companions in the ice,
risking their own lives to bring us the news. Brooks, Baker, Wilson, and
Pierre, were all lying frozen and disabled. Where? They could not tell.
Somewhere in among the hummocks to the north and east. It was drifting
heavily round them when they parted. Irish Tom had stayed by to feed and
care for the others, but the chances were sorely against them. It was in
vain to question them further. They had evidently travelled a great
distance, for they were sinking with fatigue and hunger, and could hardly
be rallied enough to tell us the direction in which they had come.”

[Illustration: DR. KANE.]

Kane’s promptness saved the party. A sledge was hastily loaded, Ohlsen
deposited upon it, wrapped in furs, and an immediate departure made. The
thermometer stood at 76° below freezing. For sixteen hours they struggled
on, till at length they came to a place where Ohlsen had to acknowledge he
was quite “at sea,” and could not recognise the landmarks. Kane
continues:—“Pushing ahead of the party, and clambering over some rugged
ice-piles, I came to a long level floe, which I thought might probably
have attracted the eyes of weary men in circumstances like our own. It was
a light conjecture, but it was enough to turn the scale, for there was no
other to balance it. I gave orders to abandon the sledge, and disperse in
search of footmarks. We raised our tent, placed our pemmican in cache,
except a small allowance for each man to carry on his person, and poor
Ohlsen, now just able to keep his legs, was liberated from his bag. The
thermometer had fallen by this time to minus 49° 3’ and the wind was
setting in sharp from the north-west. It was out of the question to halt;
it required brisk exercise to keep us from freezing. The men ‘extended’ in
skirmishing order, but kept nervously closing up; several were seized with
trembling fits, and Dr. Kane fainted twice from the effect of the intense
cold. At length a sledge track was discovered, which followed, brought
them in sight of a small American flag fluttering from a hummock, and
lower down a little masonic banner, hanging from a tent-pole hardly above
the drift. It was the camp of our disabled comrades; we reached it after
an unbroken march of twenty-one hours.

“The little tent was nearly covered.... As I crawled in, and coming upon
the darkness, heard before me the burst of welcome gladness that came from
the four poor fellows stretched on their backs, and then for the first
time the cheer outside, my weakness and my gratitude together almost
overcame me. They had expected me; they were sure I would come!” The tent
only being capable of holding eight, while there were fifteen souls in
all, they had to take “watch and watch” by turns. When sufficiently rested
and refreshed, the sick men were sewn up in reindeer skins and placed on
the sledge. Although they left all superfluous articles behind, the load
was eleven hundred pounds. “We made by vigorous pulls and lifts nearly a
mile an hour.... Almost without premonition, we all became aware of an
alarming failure of our energies. I was of course familiar with the
benumbed and almost lethargic sensation of extreme cold.... But I had
treated the _sleepy comfort_ of freezing as something like the
embellishment of romance. I had evidence now to the contrary.

“Bonsall and Morton, two of our stoutest men, came to me, begging
permission to sleep. ‘They were not cold, the wind did not enter them now;
a little sleep was all they wanted.’ Presently Hans was found nearly stiff
under a drift, and Thomas, bolt upright, had his eyes closed, and could
hardly articulate. At last John Blake threw himself into the snow, and
refused to rise. They did not complain of feeling cold, but it was in vain
that I wrestled, boxed, ran, argued, jeered, or reprimanded—an immediate
halt could not be avoided.” The tent was pitched with much difficulty, and
then Kane with one man pushed on to a tent and cache left the previous
day, his object being to prepare some hot food before the rest arrived. He
continues:—“I cannot tell how long it took us to make the nine miles, for
we were in a strange kind of stupor, and had little apprehension of time.
It was probably about four hours. We kept ourselves awake by imposing on
each other a continued articulation of words; they must have been
incoherent enough! I recall these hours as amongst the most wretched I
have ever gone through. We were neither of us in our right senses, and
retained a very confused recollection of what preceded our arrival at the
tent. We both of us, however, remember a bear who walked leisurely before
us, and tore up as he went a jumper that Mr. M’Garry had improvidently
thrown off the day before. He tore it into shreds and rolled it into a
ball, but never offered to interfere with our progress. I remember this,
and with it a confused sentiment that our tent and buffalo robe might
probably share the same fate.” This was a really wonderful example of the
almost _intoxicating_ and bewildering effect of intense cold, frequently
noted by arctic explorers. They were dazed, and walked as in a dream. But
they arrived safely at the tent, and by the time the others came up had a
good steaming pemmican soup ready. When they again started, Kane tried the
effect of brief _three-minute_ naps in the snow, the men taking it in
turns to wake each other, and he considered the result satisfactory. After
many a halt they reached the brig. Two of the men had to undergo
amputation of parts of the foot, and two died, in spite of unremitting
care. The searching party had been out seventy-two hours, during which
they had only rested eight.

CHAPTER XXVI.

KANE’S EXPEDITION (_continued_).

Arrival of Esquimaux at the Brig—A Treaty Concluded—Hospitality on
Board—Arctic Appetites—Sledge Journeys—A Break-down—Morton’s
Trip—The Open Sea—The Brig hopelessly Beset—A Council Called—Eight
Men stand by the _Advance_—Departure of the Rest—Their
Return—Terrible Sufferings—A Characteristic Entry—Raw Meat for
Food—Fruitless Journeys for Fresh Meat—A Scurvied Crew—Starving
Esquimaux—Attempted Desertion—A Deserter brought back from the
Esquimaux Settlements.

The arrival and visit of a number of Esquimaux at the brig caused some
little excitement. They were fine specimens of the race, and evidently
inclined for friendship. At first only one of them was admitted on board.
His dress is described as a kind of hooded capôte or jumper of mixed blue
and white fox-skins arranged with some taste, and booted trousers of white
bear-skin, which at the end of the foot were made to terminate with the
claws of the animal. Kane soon came to an understanding with this
individual, and the rest were admitted to the brig, where they were
hospitably treated. When offered, however, good fresh wheaten bread and
corned pork, and large lumps of white sugar, they could not be induced to
touch them, but much preferred gorging on walrus meat. They were greatly
amazed at the coal on board—too hard for blubber, and so unlike wood. They
were allowed to sleep in the hold. Next morning a treaty was made whereby
they pledged themselves, before departing, to return in a few days with
more meat, and to allow Kane to use their dogs and sledges in the proposed
excursions.

Kane with a party attempted in the spring of 1854 a journey to the great
glacier of Humboldt, from which point he had hoped “to cross the ice to
the American side.” They had made some progress when the winter’s scurvy
reappeared painfully among the party. The now soft snow made travelling
very difficult for both men and dogs; indeed, the former sank to their
waists, and the latter were nearly buried. Three of the men were taken
with snow blindness; one was utterly, and another partially disabled. Kane
was, while taking an observation for latitude, seized with a sudden pain,
and fainted. His limbs became rigid, and he had to be strapped on the
sledge. On May 5th he became delirious, and fainted every time he was
taken from the tent to the sledge. The last man to give in, he owns that
on this occasion he succumbed entirely, and that to five brave men—Morton,
Riley, Hickey, Stephenson, and Hans—themselves scarcely able to travel, he
owed his preservation. They carried him back to the brig by forced
marches, and he long lay there in a very critical state. A few days after
the return of the party, Schubert, one of the merriest and best liked of
the little band, died. Dr. Hayes, the surgeon of the ship, worked
zealously in the discharge of his duties, and with the better diet
obtained in the summer—fresh seal-meat, reindeer, ptarmigan, and
rabbits—the invalids gradually recovered strength, and set about their
duties.

The most important sledge journey undertaken at this time was that made by
Morton. After travelling a considerable distance, “due north over a solid
area choked with bergs and frozen fields, he was startled by the growing
weakness of the ice; its surface became rotten, and the snow wet and
pulpy. His dogs, seized with terror, refused to advance. Then for the
first time the fact broke upon him that a long dark band seen to the north
beyond a protruding cape, Cape Andrew Jackson, was water.” He retraced his
steps, and leaving Hans and his dogs, passed between Sir John Franklin
Island and the narrow beach line, the coast becoming more wall-like and
dark masses of porphyritic rock abutting into the sea. With growing
difficulty he managed to climb from rock to rock in hopes of doubling the
promontory and sighting the coasts beyond, but the water kept encroaching
more and more on his track.

“It must have been an imposing sight as he stood at this termination of
his journey looking out upon the great waste of waters before him. Not ‘a
speck of ice,’ to use his own words, could be seen. There, from a height
of 480 feet, which commanded a horizon of almost forty miles, his ears
were gladdened with the novel music of dashing waves; and a surf breaking
in among the rocks at his feet, stayed his further progress.... The high
ridges to the north-west dwindled off into low blue knobs, which blended
finally with the air. Morton called the cape which baffled his labours
after his commander, but I have given it the more enduring name of ‘Cape
Constitution.’ I do not believe there was a man among us who did not long
for the means of embarking upon its bright and lonely waters. But he who
may be content to follow our story for the next few months will feel as we
did, that a controlling necessity made the desire a fruitless one.”

Morton had undoubtedly seen an open sea, but the water which he described
we now know to be simply Kennedy Channel, a continuation of Smith Sound.
He had reached a latitude (about 80° 30’) further north than any previous
explorer of the Greenland coast.

[Illustration: MORTON DISCOVERS THE OPEN SEA.]

A year and three months had passed since the starting of the expedition,
and still the little brig was fast in the ice. The men were, as Kane calls
it, “scurvy riddled” and utterly prostrated, their supplies were rapidly
becoming exhausted, and Kane determined to hold a council of both officers
and crew. At noon of August 26th all hands were called, and the situation
fully explained to them, the doctor, however, counselling them to stay by
the brig, although he gave them full permission to make any attempt at
escape they might deem feasible. Eight out of seventeen resolved to stand
by the vessel. Dr. Hayes and eight others determined to make an effort to
reach the settlements. Kane divided their remaining resources, and they
left on the 28th. One of them, George Riley, returned a few days
afterwards, and, three and a half months later, the rest were only too
glad to rejoin the vessel, after enduring many sufferings. On December
12th, says Kane, “Brooks awoke me with the cry of ‘Esquimaux again!’ I
dressed hastily, and groping my way over the pile of boxes that leads up
from the hold to the darkness above, made out a group of human figures,
masked by the hooded jumpers of the natives. They stopped at the gangway,
and, as I was about to challenge, one of them sprang forward and grasped
my hand. It was Dr. Hayes. A few words, dictated by suffering, certainly
not by any anxiety as to his reception, and at his bidding the whole party
came upon deck. Poor fellows! I could only grasp their hands, and give
them a brother’s welcome.” The thermometer stood at -50° (82° below
freezing); they were covered with rime and snow, and were fainting with
hunger. It was necessary to use caution in taking them in to the warm
cabin, or it would have prostrated them completely. “Poor fellows,” says
Kane, “as they threw open their Esquimaux garments by the stove, how they
relished the scanty luxuries which we had to offer them! The coffee and
the meat biscuit soup, and the molasses and the wheat bread, even the salt
pork which our scurvy forbade the rest of us to touch—how they relished it
all! For more than two months they had lived on frozen seal and walrus
meat.” They were all in danger of collapse, and had long to be nursed very
carefully. Dr. Hayes was much prostrated, and three of his frost-bitten
toes had to suffer amputation.

Their hope at starting was that they might reach Upernavik, the nearest
Danish settlement in Greenland, a distance of about one thousand miles,
and that they might, at all events next spring, send succour to the party
left behind. Dr. Kane furnished them with such necessaries as could be
properly spared, with sledges: they were to take a life-boat previously
deposited near Lyttelton Island, and a whale-boat which had been left at
the Six-mile Ravine—a spot so called from being that distance from the
brig. Before leaving Dr. Kane called them into the cabin, where in some
nook or corner of the aft locker the careful steward had stowed a couple
of bottles of champagne, the existence of which was only known to the
commander and himself. One of these was drawn from its hiding-place, and
in broken-handled tea-cups they exchanged mutual pledges.

Their hopes had been to reach open water at about ten miles from the brig,
but in this they were entirely disappointed, and they had to drag their
boats, sledges, and provisions, over ice so rough and broken, that in one
place it took them three days to make six miles. Little wonder if some of
them thought of returning almost as soon as they started!

The reader would not thank us were we to record the long series of weary
marches over the ice which form the bulk of Dr. Hayes’ narrative. Winter
was fast approaching, their provisions were nearly exhausted, and it
behoved them to erect some place of shelter. A hut was constructed of
boulders, a sail doing duty for roof, and a piece of greased linen—part of
an old shirt—for window-glass. Like Franklin and Richardson, they tried to
eke out their supplies by eating _tripe de roche_, the rock lichen, which,
as it most commonly does, produced diarrhœa, and weakened them still more.
Esquimaux visitors arrived at the hut, and brought them some limited
supplies of blubber, but declined altogether to sell their dogs or help
them to Upernavik. Whether or no Hayes was mistaken, he did not trust much
to that innocence and simplicity which are supposed to be the prevailing
characteristics of the Esquimaux; and on one or two occasions he seems to
have had very good reason for his doubts. Petersen and Godfrey, on the
way, during November, to the brig for succour, overheard some natives
plotting their destruction, and immediately started from the settlement
with their sledge. The Esquimaux followed them with savage cries, but the
determined front shown to them seemed to have altered their minds.

“I now,” says Hayes, “repeated to Kalutunah a request which had been made
on previous occasions, viz., that his people should take us upon their
sledges and carry us northward to the Oomeaksoak. His answer was the same
as it had been hitherto. It was then proposed to him and his companions
that we should hire from them their teams; but this they also declined to
do. No offers which we could make seemed to produce the slightest
impression upon them, and it was clear that nothing would induce them to
comply with our wishes, nor even give us any reason for their refusal. In
fact, they thoroughly understood our situation; and we now entertained no
doubt that they had made up their minds, with a unanimity which at an
earlier period seemed improbable, to abandon us to our fate and to profit
by it.

“The question to be decided became a very plain one. Here were six
civilised men, who had no resort for the preservation of their lives,
their usefulness, and the happiness of their families, except in the aid
of sledges and teams which the savage owners obstinately refused to sell
or to hire. The expectation of seizing, after we should have starved or
frozen to death, our remaining effects, was the only motive of the
refusal. The savages were within easy reach of their friends, and could
suffer little by a short delay of their return. For their property
compensation could be made after our arrival at the brig. For my own part,
before attempting to negotiate with Kalutunah I had determined that his
party should not escape us in case of failure in our application to them
for aid.

“My comrades were not behind me in their inclinations; indeed, it is to
their credit that in so desperate an extremity they were willing to
restrain themselves from measures of a kind to give us at the time far
less trouble than those which I suggested. Being unwilling that any
unnecessary harm should come to the Esquimaux, I proposed to put them to
sleep with opium; then taking possession of their dogs and sledges, to
push northward as rapidly as possible, and leaving them to awaken at their
leisure; to stop for a few hours of rest among our friends at
Northumberland Island; then to make directly for Cape Alexander, with the
hope of getting so far the start of Kalutunah and his companions that
before they could arrive at Netlik and spread the alarm we should be
beyond their reach.

“This plan met with the unanimous sanction of the party, and we prepared
to put it into immediate execution. In the way of this were some
difficulties. Our guests were manifesting great uneasiness, and a decided
disinclination to remain. Many threatening glances and very few kind words
had been bestowed upon them, and they were evidently beginning to feel
that they were not in a safe place. It became now our first duty to
reassure them, and accordingly the angry looks gave place to friendly
smiles. The old, familiar habits of our people were resumed. Many presents
were given to them. I tore the remaining pictures from my ‘Anatomy,’ and
the picture of the poor footsore boy who wanted washing from
‘Copperfield,’ and gave them to Kalutunah for his children. Such pieces of
wood as remained to us were distributed amongst them. Each received a
comb. This last they had sometimes seen us use, and they proceeded
immediately to comb out their matted hair, or rather to attempt that work;
but forty years of neglect, blubber, and filth, had so glued their locks
together that there was no possibility of getting a comb through them. The
jests excited by these attempts to imitate our practices did more to
restore confidence than anything else.

“At length was reached the climax of our hospitalities. The stew which we
had been preparing for our guests was ready and was placed before them,
and they were soon greedily devouring it. This proceeding was watched by
us with mingled anxiety and satisfaction, for while the pot was over the
fire I had turned into it unobserved the contents of a small vial of
laudanum. The soup, of course, contained the larger part of the opium, but
being small in quantity it had been made so bitter that they would not eat
more than the half of it. In order to prevent either of them from getting
an over-dose we divided the fluid into three equal portions, and then with
intense interest awaited the result, apprehensive that the narcotic had
not been administered in sufficiently large quantity to ensure the desired
effect.

“After an interval of painful watchfulness on the part of my companions
the hunters began to droop their eyelids, and asked to be allowed to lie
down and sleep. We were not long in granting their wish, and never before
had we manifested more kindly dispositions towards them. We assisted them
in taking off their coats and boots, and then wrapped them up in our
blankets, about which we were no longer fastidious.

“Our guests were in a few minutes asleep, but I did not know how much of
their drowsiness was due to fatigue (for they had been hunting), and how
much to the opium; nor were we by any means assured that their sleep was
sound, for they exhibited signs of restlessness which greatly alarmed us.
Every movement had, therefore, to be conducted with the utmost
circumspection.

“To prepare for starting was the work of a few minutes. We were in full
travelling dress—coats, boots, and mittens, and some of us wore masks; the
hunters’ whips were in our hands, and nothing remained to be done but to
get a cup from the shelf. The moment was a critical one, for if the
sleepers should awake our scheme must be revealed. Godfrey reached up for
the desired cup, and down came the whole contents of the shelf, rattling
to the ground. I saw the sleepers start, and, anticipating the result,
instantly sprang to the light and extinguished it with a blow of my
mittened hand. As was to be expected, the hunters were aroused. Kalutunah
gave a grunt, and inquired what was the matter. I answered him by throwing
myself upon the breck, and, crawling to his side, hugged him close, and
cried ‘Singikpok’ (sleep). He laughed, muttered something which I could
not understand, and, without having suspected that anything was wrong,
again fell asleep.” Dr. Hayes and his companions made their escape.

[Illustration: KALUTUNAH.]

The dogs, however, gave them a great deal of trouble; and they were not
surprised when, after a halt for coffee, and to make some necessary
repairs, they saw the prisoners left in the snow hut coming after them in
full pursuit. There was nothing for it but a determined front. Hayes and
his companions got their rifles ready, and on the approach of the natives,
levelled them, ready to fire. This brought the Esquimaux to their senses,
and with many deprecatory gestures they promised to do all that was asked
of them. The affair ended, happily, without bloodshed, and the natives
accompanied Hayes to the brig, which he reached safely, as before
recorded, after many adventures.

Kane makes the following characteristic entry for January 6th, 1855:—“If
this journal ever gets to be inspected by other eyes, the colour of its
pages will tell of the atmosphere it is written in. We have been emulating
the Esquimaux for some time in everything else; and now, last of all, this
intolerable temperature and our want of fuel have driven us to rely on our
lamps for heat. Counting those which I have added since the wanderers came
back, we have twelve constantly going, with the grease and soot everywhere
in proportion. I can hardly keep my charts and registers in anything like
decent trim. Our beds and bedding are absolutely black, and our faces
begrimed with fatty carbon like the Esquimaux of South Greenland.”

Still the scurvy kept a number of the men in an unserviceable condition.
Some of Kane’s remarks on the use of raw meats _àpropos_ of their value in
a medicinal sense, are interesting:—“I do not know,” says he, “that my
journal anywhere mentions our habituation to raw meats, nor does it dwell
upon their strange adaptation to scorbutic disease. Our journeys have
taught us the wisdom of the Esquimaux appetite, and there are few amongst
us who do not relish a slice of raw blubber or a chunk of frozen
walrus-beef. The liver of a walrus (awuktanuk) eaten with little slices of
his fat, of a verity it is a delicious morsel! Fire would ruin the curt,
pithy expression of vitality which belongs to its uncooked pieces. Charles
Lamb’s roast pig was nothing to awuktanuk. I wonder that raw beef is not
eaten at home. Deprived of extraneous fibre, it is neither indigestible
nor difficult to masticate. With acids and condiments it makes a salad
which an educated palate cannot help relishing; and as a powerful and
condensed heat-making and anti-scorbutic food it has no rival....

“My plans for sledging, simple as I once thought them, and simple
certainly as compared with those of the English parties, have completely
changed. Give me an eight-pound reindeer-fur bag to sleep in, an Esquimaux
lamp with a lump of moss, a sheet-iron snow-melter or a copper soup-pot,
with a tin cylinder to slip over it and defend it from the wind, a good
_pièce de résistance_ of raw walrus-beef, and I want nothing more for a
long journey, if the thermometer will keep itself as high as minus 30°.
Give me a bear-skin bag, and coffee to boot, and with the clothes on my
back I am ready for minus 60°, but no wind.

[Illustration: ESQUIMAUX SNOW HOUSES.]

“The programme runs after this fashion:—Keep the blood in motion, without
loitering on the march; and for the halt raise a snow-house; or, if the
snow lies scant or impracticable, ensconce yourself in a burrow or under
the hospitable lee of an inclined hummock-slab. The outside fat of your
walrus sustains your little moss fire; its frozen slices give you bread,
its frozen blubber gives you butter, other parts make the soup. The snow
supplies you with water; and when you are ambitious of coffee there is a
bagful stowed away in your boot. Spread out your bear-bag, your only heavy
movable; stuff your reindeer-bag inside, hang your boots up outside, take
a blade of bone and scrape off all the ice from your furs. Now crawl in,
the whole party of you, feet foremost, draw the top of your dormitory
close headlong to leeward. Fancy yourself in Sybaris, and, if you are only
tired enough, you may sleep—like St. Lawrence on his gridiron, or even a
trifle better.”

On January 17th Kane sadly admits that the “present state of things cannot
last.” They required meat above all things, and he determined to make a
sledge journey to the Esquimaux huts at Etah in search of it. The
preparations made, he started on the 22nd, Hans Christian being the only
available man to accompany him, the rest being nearly all prostrated with
scurvy, and some in a most dangerous condition. His journal gives a
graphic account of the attempt, which was a failure.

“Washington’s birthday, February 22nd, was, however, a day of better omen.
Hans had had a shot—a long shot—at a deer, but he had wounded him, and the
injured animal, they knew, would not run far. Next morning Hans was out
early on the trail of the wounded deer. Rhina, the least barbarous of the
sledge dogs, assisted him. He was back by noon with the joyful news, ‘The
tukkuk dead only two miles up big fiord!’ The cry found its way through
the hatch, and came back in a broken huzza from the sick men.

“We are so badly off for strong arms that our reindeer threatened to be a
great embarrassment to us. We had hard work with our dogs carrying him to
the brig, and still harder, worn down as we were, in getting him over the
ship’s side. But we succeeded, and were tumbling him down the hold, when
we found ourselves in a dilemma like the Vicar of Wakefield with his
family picture. It was impossible to drag the prize into our little
moss-lined dormitory; the _tossut_ was not half big enough to let him
pass; and it was equally impossible to skin him anywhere else without
freezing our fingers in the operation.

“It was a happy escape from the embarrassments of our hungry little
council to determine that the animal might be carved before skinning as
well as he could be afterwards; and, in a very few minutes we proved our
united wisdom by a feast on his quartered remains.

“It was a glorious meal, such as the compensations of Providence reserve
for starving men alone. We ate, forgetful of the past, and almost heedless
of the morrow; cleared away the offal wearily, and now, at 10 P.M., all
hands have turned in to sleep, leaving to their commanding officer the
solitary honour of an eight hours’ vigil.

“The deer was among the largest of all the northern specimens I have seen.
He measured five feet one inch in girth, and six feet two inches in
length, and stood as large as a two years’ heifer. We estimated his weight
at three hundred pounds.”

But such a happy experience was quite exceptional at this time. Other
expeditions to the Esquimaux at this time demonstrated that they
themselves were in a starving condition. On March 20th two of the men
attempted to desert, but Kane had learned of their intentions, and
confronted them as they were about to leave the vessel. One man, Godfrey,
however, did succeed, his intention being apparently to reach the
settlement at Etah Bay, and robbing Hans, their hunter, of sledge and
dogs, proceed south to Netlik. He afterwards returned to the brig with
this very sledge, reporting that Hans was lying sick at Etah, and that he
himself intended to settle down among the Esquimaux. Both Bonsall and Kane
were at this time hardly able to walk, while the rest, thirteen in all,
were down with the scurvy. Shots were fired at him to make him change his
mind, but he again escaped, and this circumstance, with Hans’ continued
absence, naturally caused the commander much anxiety. Kane, though weak
and dispirited, determined to go in search of both. The sequel was, that
disguising himself as an Esquimaux, he succeeded in deceiving the deserter
when he arrived at the village, and handcuffing him made him yield
unconditionally; he returned to the brig as a prisoner. Hans, however, had
been really ill.

CHAPTER XXVII.

KANE’S EXPEDITION (_concluded_).

A Sad Entry—Farewell to the Brig—Departure for the South—Death of
Ohlsen—Difficult Travelling—The Open Water—The Esquimaux of Etah—A
Terrible Gale—Among the broken Floes—A Greenland Oasis—The Ice
Cliff—Eggs by the Hundred—An Anxious Moment—A Savage Feast—The
First Sign of Civilisation—Return to the Settlements—Home once
more.

Kane had now been two years in the arctic regions, and the day of release,
so far at least as their little brig was concerned, seemed as far off as
ever. Nearly all the men were invalids, and it took all the doctor’s
unremitting attention to keep them from utter despondency; others, again,
wanted only strength to become mutinous. Kane writes at the beginning of
March that his journal “is little else than a chronicle of sufferings.”
Brooks, his first officer, “as stalwart a man-o’-war’s-man as ever faced
an enemy,” burst into tears when he first saw himself in the glass. On the
4th their last remnant of fresh meat had been doled out, and the region
about their harbour ceased to yield any game.

May arrived, and with returning spring, and some supplies obtained from
the natives, the crew were so far restored to health that all but three or
four could take some part in the preparations for an immediate start to
the southward. It had become only too evident that their vessel, now
almost dismantled to the water’s edge—the woodwork having been needed for
fuel—_must_ be abandoned. But one month’s provisions remained, and they
were thirteen hundred miles from the nearest Danish settlement.

The last farewell to the brig was made with some degree of solemnity. It
was Sunday. After prayers and a chapter of the Bible had been read, Kane
addressed his men, not affecting to disguise from them the difficulties
still to be overcome, but reminding them how often an unseen Power had
already rescued them from peril. He was met in a right spirit, and a
memorial was shortly afterwards brought to him, signed by the whole
company, which stated that they entirely concurred in his attempt to reach
the south by means of boats, and that they were convinced of the necessity
of abandoning the brig. All then went on deck. The flags were hoisted and
hauled down again, and the men walked once or twice around the brig,
looking at her timbers, and exchanging comments upon the scars, which
reminded them of every stage of her dismantling. The figure-head—the fair
Augusta, the little blue girl with pink cheeks, who had lost her breast by
an iceberg and her nose by a nip off Bedevilled Reach—was taken from the
bows. “She is at any rate wood,” said the men, when Kane hesitated about
giving them the extra burden, “and if we cannot carry her far we can burn
her.”

Their boats were three in number, all of them well battered by exposure to
ice and storm, almost as destructive of their seaworthiness as the hot sun
of other regions. Two of them were cypress whale-boats, twenty-six feet
long, with seven feet beam, and three feet deep. These were strengthened
with oak bottom-pieces and a long string-piece bolted to the keel. A
washboard of light cedar, about six inches high, served to strengthen the
gunwale and give increased depth. A neat housing of light canvas was
stretched upon a ridge-line sustained fore and aft by stanchions. The
third boat was the little _Red Eric_. They mounted her on the old sledge,
the _Faith_, hardly relying on her for any purposes of navigation, but
with the intention of cutting her up for firewood in case their guns
should fail to give them a supply of blubber. Indeed, in spite of all the
ingenuity of the carpenter, Mr. Ohlsen, well seconded by the persevering
labours of M’Garey and Bonsall, not one of the boats was positively
seaworthy. The _Hope_ would not pass even charitable inspection, and they
expected to burn her on reaching water. The planking of all of them was so
dried up that it could hardly be made tight by caulking. The three boats
were mounted on the sledges, the provisions stowed snugly under the
thwarts; the chronometers, carefully boxed and padded, placed in the
stern-sheets of the _Hope_, in charge of Mr. Sontag. With them were such
of the instruments as they could venture to transport. Their powder and
shot, upon which their lives depended, were carefully distributed in bags
and tin canisters.

“There was,” says Kane, “no sign or affectation of spirit or enthusiasm
upon the memorable day when we first adjusted the boats to their cradles
on the sledges, and moved them off to the ice-foot. But the ice
immediately around the vessel was smooth, and as the boats had not
received their lading, the first labour was an easy one. As the runners
moved, the gloom of several countenances was perceptibly lightened. The
croakers had protested that we could not stir an inch. These cheering
remarks always reach a commander’s ears, and I took good care, of course,
to make the onset contradict them. By the time we reached the end of our
little level the tone had improved wonderfully, and we were prepared for
the effort of crossing the successive lines of the belt-ice, and forcing a
way through the smashed material which interposed between us and the
ice-foot.

“This was a work of great difficulty, and sorrowfully exhausting to the
poor fellows not yet accustomed to heave together. But in the end I had
the satisfaction, before twenty-four hours were over, of seeing our little
arks of safety hauled up on the higher plane of the ice-foot, in full time
for ornamental exhibition from the brig; their neat canvas housing rigged
tent-fashion over the entire length of each; a jaunty little flag, made
out of one of the commander’s obsolete linen shirts, decorated in stripes
from a disused article of stationery—the red-ink bottle—and with a very
little of the blue-bag in the star-spangled corner. All hands after this
returned on board. I had ready for them the best supper our supplies
afforded, and they turned in with minds prepared for their departure next
day.

“They were nearly all of them invalids, unused to open air and exercise.
It was necessary to train them very gradually. We made but two miles the
first day, and with a single boat; and, indeed, for some time after this I
took care that they should not be disheartened by overwork. They came back
early to a hearty supper and warm beds, and I had the satisfaction of
marching them back each recurring morning refreshed and cheerful. The
weather, happily, was superb.”

Repeated sledge journeys back to the brig, and afterwards from station to
station, were made, as they could not transport all their goods at one
time in their enfeebled state. No one worked harder than did the commander
himself. On one of his last visits to the brig, he, with the aid of Morton
and an Esquimaux, baked 150 lbs. of bread, and performed other culinary
operations for the benefit of the whole party.

Their journey was one of peril and difficulty, and constantly interrupted
by gales. The reflection would now and again force itself upon their minds
that a single storm might convert the precarious platform on which they
travelled into a tumultuous ice-pack. While crossing a weak part of the
ice one of their sledge-runners broke through, and but for the presence of
mind of Ohlsen, the load, boat and all, would have gone under. He saw the
ice give way, and by a violent exercise of strength, passed a capstan-bar
under the sledge, and thus bore the load till it was hauled on to safer
ice. He was a very powerful man, and might have done this without injuring
himself; but it would seem his footing gave way under him, forcing him to
make a still more desperate effort to extricate himself. It cost him his
life: he died three days afterwards, from the strain on his system.

But there were times when travelling was not so difficult, and when they
could hoist their sails, and run rapidly before the wind over solid ice.
It was a new sensation to the men. Levels which, under the slow labour of
the drag-rope, would have delayed them for hours, were glided over without
a halt, and the speed of the sledges made rotten ice nearly as available
as sound. They made more progress in one day in this manner than they had
previously in five. The spirits of the men rose; “the sick mounted the
thwarts; the well clung to the gunwale; and, for the first time for nearly
a year, broke out the sailors’ chorus, ‘Storm along, my hearty boys!’”

“Though the condition of the ice assured us,” says Kane, writing several
days later, “that we were drawing near the end of our sledge-journeys, it
by no means diminished their difficulty or hazards. The part of the field
near the open water is always abraded by the currents, while it remains
apparently firm on the surface. In some places it was so transparent that
we could even see the gurgling eddies below it; while in others it was
worn into open holes that were already the resort of wild fowl. But in
general it looked hard and plausible, though not more than a foot or even
six inches in thickness.

“This continued to be its character as long as we pursued the Lyttelton
Island channel, and we were compelled, the whole way through, to sound
ahead with the boat-hook or narwal-horn. We learned this precaution from
the Esquimaux, who always move in advance of their sledges when the ice is
treacherous, and test its strength before bringing on their teams. Our
first warning impressed us with the policy of observing. We were making
wide circuits with the whale-boats to avoid the tide-holes, when signals
of distress from men scrambling on the ice announced to us that the _Red
Eric_ had disappeared. This unfortunate little craft contained all the
dearly-earned documents of the expedition. There was not a man who did not
feel that the reputation of the party rested in a great degree upon their
preservation. It had cost us many a pang to give up our collections of
natural history, to which every one had contributed his quota of labour
and interest; but the destruction of the vouchers of the cruise—the
log-books, the meteorological registers, the surveys, and the
journals—seemed to strike them all as an irreparable disaster.

“When I reached the boat everything was in confusion. Blake, with a line
passed round his waist, was standing up to his knees in sludge, groping
for the document-box, and Mr. Bonsall, dripping wet, was endeavouring to
haul the provision-bags to a place of safety. Happily the boat was our
lightest one, and everything was saved. She was gradually lightened until
she could bear a man, and her cargo was then passed out by a line and
hauled upon the ice. In spite of the wet and the cold and our thoughts of
poor Ohlsen, we greeted its safety with three cheers.

“It was by great good fortune that no lives were lost. Stephenson was
caught as he sank by one of the sledge-runners, and Morton while in the
very act of drifting under the ice was seized by the hair of the head by
Mr. Bonsall, and saved!”

On June 16th their boats were at the open water. “We see,” says Kane, “its
deep indigo horizon, and hear its roar against the icy beach. Its scent is
in our nostrils and our hearts.” They had their boats to prepare now for a
long and adventurous navigation. They were so small and heavily laden as
hardly to justify much confidence in their buoyancy; but, besides this,
they were split with frost and warped by sunshine, and fairly open at the
seams. They were to be caulked, and swelled, and launched, and stowed,
before they could venture to embark in them. A rainy south-wester too,
which had met them on arrival, was now spreading with its black nimbus
over the sky as if they were to be storm-stayed on the precarious
ice-beach. It was a time of anxiety.

[Illustration: CAPE ALEXANDER, GREENLAND.]

Kane writes on July 18th, “The Esquimaux are camped by our side—the whole
settlement of Etah congregated around the ‘big caldron’ of Cape Alexander,
to bid us good-bye. There are Meteh and Mealik his wife, our old
acquaintance Mrs. Eiderduck, and their five children, commencing with
Myouk my body-guard, and ending with the ventricose little Accomadah.
There is Nessark and Anak his wife; and Tellerk, ‘the right-arm,’ and
Amannalik his wife; and Sip-see, and Marsumah, and Aniugnah—and who not? I
can name them every one, but they know us as well. We have found brothers
in a strange land.”

For many days after leaving their Esquimaux friends they were more or less
beset with broken floating ice, and the weather was often extremely bad.
Kane describes a gale, during which the boats were nearly swamped. At
length they reached a cleft or cave in the cliff, and were shoring up
their boat with blocks of ice, when they saw the welcome sight of a flock
of eider ducks, and they knew that they were at their breeding grounds.

[Illustration: THE HOME OF THE EIDER DUCK.]

“We remained almost three days in our crystal retreat, gathering eggs at
the rate of 1,200 a day. Outside the storm raged without intermission, and
our egg-hunters found it difficult to keep their feet; but a merrier set
of gourmands than were gathered within never surfeited in genial diet.” It
was the 18th of July before the ice allowed them to depart. In launching
the _Hope_ she was precipitated into the sludge below, carrying away rail
and bulwark, tumbling their best shot-gun into the sea, and, worst of all,
their kettle—soup-kettle, paste-kettle, tea-kettle, water-kettle, all in
one—was lost overboard. For some days after they made fair progress.

A little later and matters had not improved. The ice was again before them
in an almost unbroken mass. “Things grew worse and worse with us,” says
Kane; “the old difficulty of breathing came back again, and our feet
swelled to such an extent that we were obliged to cut open our canvas
boots. But the symptom which gave me most uneasiness was our inability to
sleep. A form of low fever which hung by us when at work had been kept
down by the thoroughness of our daily rest. All my hopes of escape were in
the refreshing influences of the halt.

“It must be remembered that we were now in the open bay, in the full line
of the great ice-drift to the Atlantic, and in boats so frail and
unseaworthy as to require constant baling to keep them afloat.

“It was at this crisis of our fortunes that we saw a large seal
floating—as is the custom of these animals—on a small patch of ice, and
seemingly asleep. It was an ussuk, and so large that I at first mistook it
for a walrus. Signal was made for the _Hope_ to follow astern, and,
trembling with anxiety, we prepared to crawl down upon him.

“Petersen, with the large English rifle, was stationed in the bow, and
stockings were drawn over the oars as mufflers. As we neared the animal
our excitement became so intense that the men could hardly keep stroke. I
had a set of signals for such occasions, which spared us the noise of the
voice; and when about three hundred yards off the oars were taken in, and
we moved on in deep silence with a single scull astern.

“He was not asleep, for he reared his head when we were almost within
rifle-shot; and to this day I can remember the hard, careworn, almost
despairing expression of the men’s thin faces as they saw him move: their
lives depended on his capture.

“I depressed my hand nervously, as a signal for Petersen to fire. M’Gary
hung upon his oar, and the boat, slowly but noiselessly sagging ahead,
seemed to me within certain range. Looking at Petersen, I saw that the
poor fellow was paralysed by his anxiety, trying vainly to obtain a rest
for his gun against the cut-water of the boat. The seal rose on his
fore-flippers, gazed at us for a moment with frightened curiosity, and
coiled himself for a plunge. At that instant, simultaneously with the
crack of our rifle, he relaxed his long length on the ice, and, at the
very brink of the water, his head fell helpless to one side.

“I would have ordered another shot, but no discipline could have
controlled the men. With a wild yell, each vociferating according to his
own impulse, they urged both boats upon the floes. A crowd of hands seized
the seal, and bore him up to safer ice. The men seemed half crazy: I had
not realised how much we were reduced by absolute famine. They ran over
the floe, crying and laughing, and brandishing their knives. It was not
five minutes before each man was sucking his bloody fingers, or mouthing
long strips of raw blubber.

“Not an ounce of this seal was lost. The intestines found their way into
the soup-kettles without any observance of the preliminary home processes.
The cartilaginous parts of the fore-flippers were cut off in the _mêlée_
and passed round to be chewed upon; and even the liver, warm and raw as it
was, bade fair to be eaten before it had seen the pot. That night, on the
large halting-floe, to which, in contempt of the dangers of drifting, we
happy men had hauled our boats, two entire planks of the _Red Eric_ were
devoted to a grand cooking-fire, and we enjoyed a rare and savage
feast....

“Two days after this a mist had settled down upon the islands which
embayed us, and when it lifted we found ourselves rowing in lazy time,
under the shadow of Karkamoot. Just then a familiar sound came to us over
the water. We had often listened to the screeching of the gulls or the
bark of the fox, and mistaken it for the ‘Huk’ of the Esquimaux; but this
had about it an inflection not to be mistaken, for it died away in the
familiar cadence of a ‘halloo.’

“‘Listen, Petersen! oars, men!’ ‘What is it?’—and he listened quietly at
first, and then, trembling, said, in a half whisper, ‘Dannemarkers!’

“I remember this the first tone of Christian voice which had greeted our
return to the world. How we all stood up and peered into the distant nook;
and how the cry came to us again, just as, having seen nothing, we were
doubting whether the whole was not a dream; and then how, with long
sweeps, the white ash cracking under the spring of the rowers, we stood
for the cape that the sound proceeded from, and how nervously we scanned
the green spots, which our experience, grown now into instinct, told us
would be the likely camping-ground of wayfarers!

“By-and-by—for we must have been pulling for a good half-hour—the single
mast of a small shallop showed itself; and Petersen, who had been very
quiet and grave, burst out into an incoherent fit of crying, only relieved
by broken exclamations of mingled Danish and English. ‘’Tis the Upernavik
oil-boat, the _Fraulein Flaischer_! Carlie Mossyn, the assistant cooper,
must be on his road to Kingatok for blubber. The _Mariane_ (the one annual
ship) has come, and Carlie Mossyn’—and here he did it all over again,
gulping down his words and wringing his hands.

“It was Carlie Mossyn, sure enough. The quiet routine of a Danish
settlement is the same year after year, and Petersen had hit upon the
exact state of things. The _Mariane_ was at Proven, and Carlie Mossyn had
come up in the _Fraulein Flaischer_ to get the year’s supply of blubber
from Kingatok.

“Here we first got our cloudy vague idea of what had passed in the world
during our absence. The friction of its fierce rotation has not much
disturbed this little outpost of civilisation, and we thought it a sort of
blunder as he told us that France and England were leagued with the
Mussulman against the Greek Church. He was a good Lutheran, this assistant
cooper, and all news with him had a theological complexion.

“‘What of America? eh, Petersen?’—and we all looked, waiting for him to
interpret the answer.

“‘America?’ said Carlie; ‘we don’t know much of that country here, for
they have no whalers on the coast; but a steamer and a barque passed up a
fortnight ago, and have gone out into the ice to seek your party.’

“How gently all the lore of this man oozed out of him! he seemed an
oracle, as, with hot tingling fingers pressed against the gunwale of the
boat, we listened to his words. ‘Sebastopol aint taken.’ Where and what
was Sebastopol?

“But ‘Sir John Franklin?’ There we were at home again—our own delusive
little speciality rose uppermost. Franklin’s party, or traces of the dead
which represented it, had been found nearly a thousand miles to the south
of where we had been searching for them. He knew it; for the priest
(Pastor Kraag) had a German newspaper which told all about it. And so we
‘out oars’ again, and rowed into the fogs.

“Another sleeping halt was passed, and we have all washed clean at the
fresh-water basins, and furbished up our ragged furs and woollens.
Kasarsoak, the snow top of Sanderson’s _Hope_, shows itself above the
mists, and we hear the yelling of the dogs. Petersen had been foreman of
the settlement, and he calls my attention, with a sort of pride, to the
tolling of the workmen’s bell. It is six o’clock. We are nearing the end
of our trials. Can it be a dream?

“We hugged the land by the big harbour, turned the corner by the
brewhouse, and, in the midst of a crowd of children, hauled our boats for
the last time upon the rocks.

“For eighty-four days we had lived in the open air. Our habits were hard
and weatherworn. We could not remain within the four walls of a house
without a distressing sense of suffocation. But we drank coffee that night
before many a hospitable threshold, and listened again and again to the
hymn of welcome, which, sung by many voices, greeted our deliverance.”
They had been eighty-four days on the trip.

Kane and his party received all manner of kindness from the Danes of
Upernavik. After stopping there nearly a month, and recruiting their
health, they left for Godhavn on a Danish vessel, the captain of which had
engaged to drop them at the Shetland Islands, should no other or better
opportunity occur. Just as they were leaving Godhavn, however, the
look-out man at the hill-top announced a steamer in the distance. It drew
near, with a barque in tow, and they soon recognised the stars and stripes
of their own country. All the boats of the settlement put out to her.
“Presently,” says the interesting narrative we have followed, “we were
alongside. An officer whom I shall ever remember as a cherished friend,
Captain Hartstene, hailed a little man in a ragged flannel shirt, ‘Is that
Dr. Kane?’ and with the ‘Yes!’ that followed the rigging was manned by our
countrymen, and cheers welcomed us back to the social world of love which
they represented.” This U.S. man-of-war which had been sent especially to
search for them, had been several weeks among the northward ice before
they returned, so fortunately, to Godhavn. A few weeks later Kane was
being honoured as only Americans honour those whom they highly esteem.
Later, in many ways, he received the fullest recognition in our own
country. It is sad to know that he, who had laboured so hard for the
welfare of his men, and not merely for science or personal ambition, was
the first to pass away. His slight frame could not stand the many drafts
which had been put on its endurance, and scarcely fourteen months elapsed
from the period of his return till the sad news of his death shocked not
merely the world of science but a world of friends, many of whom had never
known him in the flesh, but who, from his writings and good report, had
learned to love him.

[Illustration: GODHAVN, A DANISH SETTLEMENT IN DISCO ISLAND, GREENLAND.]

CHAPTER XXVIII.

HAYES’ EXPEDITION—SWEDISH EXPEDITIONS.

Voyage of the _United States_—High Latitude attained—In Winter
Quarters—Hardships of the Voyage—The dreary Arctic Landscape—Open
Water once more—1,300 Miles of Ice traversed—Swedish
Expeditions—Perilous Position of the _Sofia_.

It will be remembered that Dr. Hayes was associated with Dr. Kane at the
period when Morton discovered that open water which seemed to many
scientific men of the day positive proof of the existence of an “open
polar sea.” Dr. Hayes was an evident believer in the theory, and his
enthusiastic advocacy of it induced many in the United States to come
forward and lend material aid towards the solution of the problem. A
private subscription, to which that worthy New Yorker Mr. Grinnell, who
had already done so much to further Arctic exploration, contributed
largely, enabled Dr. Hayes to purchase and fit a schooner—the _United
States_—for the arduous work in which she was to be engaged. The vessel
was of no great size, merely some 130 tons burden, but was considerably
strengthened and suitably provided for her coming struggle with the ice.
The expedition, which numbered only fourteen persons all told, left Boston
on July 6th, 1860.

Hayes’ idea at starting was to proceed _viâ_ Smith Sound and Kennedy
Channel as far north as might be; then to winter on the Greenland coast,
and attempt to reach with sledges the northern water. Dangers, the
description of which would be but a recapitulation of previous accounts
recorded in these pages, were passed successfully, and eventually he laid
up the vessel in Port Foulke, where the winter was passed in comparative
ease. In the months of April and May, 1861, he made an important
exploration, at the end of which he had the pleasure of reaching a point
north of that attained by Morton. The journey was one of the very greatest
peril. Gales, fogs, and drifting snows; hummocks and broken ice; opening
seams and pools of water—such were a few of the dangers and difficulties
encountered. Some of the men succumbed utterly, and had to be sent back to
the schooner: it occupied the doctor and his companions a clear month to
cross Smith Sound. In Kennedy Channel the ice was becoming rotten and full
of water-holes, and through the soft and now melting snow they travelled
with the greatest difficulty. The dreariness and desolation of an Arctic
landscape are well described by Hayes. “As the eye wandered from peak to
peak of the mountains as they rose one above the other, and rested upon
the dark and frost-degraded cliffs, and followed along the ice-foot and
overlooked the sea, and saw in every object the silent forces of Nature
moving on—through the gloom of winter and the sparkle of summer—now, as
they had moved for countless ages, unobserved but by the eye of God
alone—I felt how puny indeed are all men’s works and efforts; and when I
sought for some token of living thing, some track of wild beast—a fox, or
bear, or reindeer, which had elsewhere always crossed me in my
journeyings—and saw nothing but two feeble men and struggling dogs, it
seemed indeed as if the Almighty had frowned upon the hills and seas.”
Still they pushed on, till the old ice came suddenly to an end, and the
unerring instinct of the dogs warned them of approaching danger. They were
observed for some time to be moving with unusual caution, and at last they
scattered right and left, and refused to proceed. Hayes walked on ahead,
and soon came to the conclusion that they must retrace their steps, for
his staff gave way on the ice. After camping, and enjoying a refreshing
sleep, he climbed a steep hill-side to the summit of a rugged cliff, about
800 feet above the sea level, from which he soon understood the cause of
their arrested progress. “The ice was everywhere in the same condition as
in the mouth of the bay across which I had endeavoured to pass. A broad
crack, starting from the middle of the bay, stretched over the sea, and
uniting with other cracks as it meandered to the eastward, it expanded as
the delta of some mighty river discharging into the ocean, and under a
water-sky, which hung upon the northern and eastern horizon, it was lost
in the open sea.

[Illustration: THE SCHOONER “UNITED STATES” AT PORT FOULKE.]

“Standing against the dark sky at the north, there was seen in dim outline
the white sloping summit of a noble headland, the most northern known land
upon the globe. I judged it to be in the latitude of 82° 30’, or 450 miles
from the North Pole. Nearer, another bold cape stood forth, and nearer
still the headland, for which I had been steering my course the day
before, rose majestically from the sea, as if pushing up into the very
skies, a lofty mountain peak, upon which the winter had dropped its diadem
of snows. There was no land visible except the coast upon which I stood.

“The sea beneath me was a mottled sheet of white and dark patches, these
latter being either soft decaying ice, or places where the ice had wholly
disappeared. These spots were heightened in intensity of shade and
multiplied in size as they receded, until the belt of the water-sky
blended them all together into one uniform colour of dark blue. The old
and solid floes (some a quarter of a mile, and others miles across) and
the massive ridges and wastes of hummocked ice which lay piled between
them and around their margins, were the only parts of the sea which
retained the whiteness and solidity of winter.”

Hayes returned from this expedition firmly convinced that he had stood
upon the shores of the Polar basin. The arguments have been before
indicated for and against this theory, but they are certainly not
conclusive. The journey had been one of a most arduous nature; and more
than 1,300 miles of ice had been traversed before he regained the
schooner. On his return to the United States shortly afterwards, at the
climax of the great American war, Hayes immediately volunteered in the
Northern army, a pretty decided proof of the energy and bravery of the
man.

Between the years 1858 and 1872 Sweden sent out five expeditions to the
Arctic, the results of which were important in many directions, although
no geographical discoveries of great mark were made. The first was
provided at the expense of Otto Torell, a gentleman of means, and who has
deservedly earned a high scientific reputation. The expenses of the others
were defrayed partly by private subscription and partly by Government aid.
The whole of them were under the direction of Professor Nordenskjöld, and
a very decided addition to our knowledge of Spitzbergen has been the
result. The Swedes reached a latitude of 81° 42’ N. during the 1868
voyage. An attempt to pass northward from the Seven Isles is thus
described by the Professor:—

“Northward lay vast ice masses, it is true as yet broken, but still so
closely packed that not even a boat could pass forward, and we were
therefore obliged to turn to the south-west and seek for another opening
in the ice; but we found on the contrary, that the limit of the ice
stretched itself more and more to the south.... On the way we had in
several places met with ice black with stones, gravel, and earth, which
would seem to indicate the existence of land still farther north.

“The ice itself had, moreover, a very different appearance from that which
we had met in these tracts at the end of August. It consisted now, not
only of larger ice-fields, but also of huge ice-blocks.... Already, in the
beginning of September, the surface of the ocean, after a somewhat heavy
fall of snow, had shown itself between the ice masses, covered with a
coating of ice, which, however, was then thin, and scarcely hindered the
vessel’s progress. Now it was so thick that it was not without difficulty
that a way could be forced through it.” On October the 4th, during the
prevalence of a gale and heavy sea, their ship, the _Sofia_, was thrown
bodily upon an iceberg, and commenced to leak so badly that when they
reached Amsterdam Island, and after eleven hours of incessant work at the
pumps, the water stood two feet above the cabin floor. The engine-room,
thanks to water-tight bulkheads, was with great difficulty kept so free
from water that the fires were not extinguished. Had this not been the
case, the ship must have become a prey to the raging elements. At
Amsterdam Island the vessel was careened, and the leak provisionally
stopped, so that they were able a little later to proceed to a more secure
harbour, King’s Bay, where they hauled close to the land, and at ebb tide
succeeded in making the ship water-tight. Two ribs were broken by the
shock which caused the leak, and an immediate return home was their only
safe course. The description, however, gives some idea of the dangers of
Arctic ice navigation.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE SECOND GERMAN EXPEDITION.

The First German Expedition—Preparations for a Second—Building of
the _Germania_—The _Hansa_—The Emperor William’s Interest in the
Voyage—The Scientific Corps—Departure from Bremerhaven—Neptune at
the Arctic Circle—The Vessels Separated among the Ice—Sport with
Polar Bears—Wedged in by the Grinding Ice—Preparations to Winter
on the Floe—The _Hansa_ lifted Seventeen Feet out of the Water—A
Doomed Vessel—Wreck of the _Hansa_.

On the 24th of October, 1868, a number of gentlemen were assembled round a
festive board in Bremen to celebrate the happy return of the first German
expedition, under Captain Karl Koldewey. Among the guests was Dr. A.
Petermann, the eminent geographer, to whose exertions in great part the
inauguration of the expedition had been due. Its object had been to reach
as near the North Pole as might be, the route selected being that between
Greenland and Spitzbergen. Baffled by an icy barrier off the South Cape of
Spitzbergen, at which time a terrific storm was raging, he had steered to
the eastward, passing among clusters of icebergs, some of which were
taller than his vessel’s masts. After passing safely through many perils,
he returned to the South Cape, and coasted Spitzbergen to the north-west;
later he had endeavoured to make the ice-girt shores of East Greenland,
but not succeeding, again returned to Spitzbergen, and after sundry
explorations, turned his vessel’s head towards home.

It was at the banquet above-mentioned that expression was first given to
the idea of a second expedition to the inhospitable regions of the far
North. There had been some slight surplus of funds left from the first
expedition, and it was determined to make an appeal to German liberality
to complete a sum sufficient to build a steamer specially adapted for
Arctic waters. Committees were formed in Berlin, Munich, Bremen, Hamburg,
and numerous other cities, and the result in the end was very
satisfactory. The _Germania_, a steamer of 143 tons burden, was laid on
the stocks at Bremerhaven on March 10th, 1869, and thirty-six days
afterwards was launched. She was about the average size of a Brazilian or
West Indian fruit or coffee schooner, ninety feet long, twenty-two and a
half feet broad, and eleven feet deep. Although, therefore, an extremely
small steamer, she had been built in the strongest manner, with extra
beams, thick iron sheathing, and every other improvement which might
render her comparatively safe in the ice. Her sharp build proved
subsequently of great advantage to her when sailing. Including the
machinery and ship’s fittings, the _Germania_ cost £3,150. A second
vessel, the purchase-money for which had been guaranteed by some Bremen
merchants, although eventually the subscriptions released them, was a
Prussian schooner of 76¾ tons burden, which was re-christened the _Hansa_,
and was meant to be, in some sense, a tender to the _Germania_, although
fate eventually decreed otherwise. Great care was taken with the
victualling and equipment of the ships; but little salt or dried meat was
taken. Many presents of “the good Rhine wine” and other luxuries, as well
as books, instruments, and other kindly remembrances, came in from friends
of the expedition.

The officers and scientific members of the expedition counted among their
number several men who had previously or have since become famous. The
commander of the whole was Captain Koldewey, a Hanoverian, who had long
been a sailor, and who, to fit himself for his new duties, temporarily
gave up his profession, in the winters of 1867-8 and 1868-9, to study
physics and astronomy at the University of Gottingen. With him were
associated Dr. Karl N. J. Borgen, and Dr. R. Copeland, an Englishman, who
were conjointly to take scientific observations, &c.; also Julius Payer, a
lieutenant in the Imperial Austrian army, on leave. The latter, in
particular, joined the expedition with a considerable amount of prestige,
derived from an active life spent in the cause of science. Although only
twenty-seven years old, he had made and recorded many expeditions in the
Alps, and in the mountainous districts of Austria. He had also taken an
active part in 1866 in the Italian war. Lastly, to Dr. Adolphus Pansch,
surgeon of the _Germania_, were assigned the departments of zoology,
botany, and ethnology. Nearly all of the above had earned their laurels in
the scientific literature of Germany. The captain of the _Hansa_ was Paul
Friedrich August Hegemann, an experienced navigator; with him were
associated two scientific gentlemen, Dr. Bucholz and Dr. Gustavus Laube.

On May 28th, 1869, Captain Koldewey had an audience of his Majesty King
William, at Babelsberg, who expressed his gratification at having secured
the services of a leader so energetic. The departure of the expedition
took place from Bremerhaven on the 15th of June following, in the presence
of the King, his Royal Highness the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Schwerin,
Count (now Prince) Bismarck, General von Moltke, and other distinguished
men. The King heartily shook the hands of the commander and his scientific
corps, and inspected the vessels with much satisfaction. The parting
moment at length arrived, and amid the salutes of artillery and hearty
cheers from the crowds ashore, the vessels made for the mouth of the
Weser, and put to sea.

The first part of the voyage was not specially eventful. The vessels
several times parted company, but rejoined afterwards. The dense fogs
which infest those latitudes were the cause of much anxiety on the part of
the commanders. On July the 4th Dr. Copeland shot a gull, which fell in
the sea, and was nearly the cause of a serious disaster. A sailor, without
undressing, jumped overboard after it, and the vessel sailing rapidly was
soon a considerable distance from him. He was almost on the point of
sinking, when a boat, which had been hastily launched, reached him, and he
was drawn out of the water. “Like a drowned poodle,” says the narrative,
“the sinner stood once more amongst us, receiving as a reward a sound
lecture from the captain, followed by a good draught of brandy.” On July
the 5th they passed the Arctic circle (66° 33’), the _Hansa_ being the
first in the race, and the first to unfurl the North German flag.
“Conformably to the custom,” says Koldewey, “as on crossing the equator,
Neptune came on board to welcome us, and wish us success on our voyage; of
course not without all those who had not yet crossed the Arctic circle
having to undergo the rather rough shaving and christening customary on
such occasions.... Universal grog and good fellowship on board both ships
brought the ceremony to a close.”

After a separation of many days the vessels again joined on July 18th. A
prize of a bottle of wine had been offered on board the _Germania_ to the
individual who should first sight the _Hansa_. Soon after breakfast on
that day a sail is discovered from the topmast. It is a schooner, and as
the whale fishers do not use such craft it must be the _Hansa_! A little
later, and by getting up steam on board the larger vessel, they rejoined,
and the officers met and compared notes. They parted that evening full of
confident hopes for the future. Little did they think that the vessels
would never meet again, and that although as comrades they _would_ meet, a
fourteen months’ interval must elapse! By the misunderstanding of a signal
the _Hansa_ set all sail and parted company when off the east coast of
Greenland in lat. 70° 46’ N., long. 10° 51’ W., and soon became entangled
in the ice, while they looked in vain from the “crow’s nest” for an
opening. We shall now follow the fortunes of the _Hansa_.

That vessel was soon inextricably wedged in the ice. The coast of East
Greenland was often in sight, and several unsuccessful attempts were made
to reach it. During this period they had some sport with the polar bears.
On September 12th a she bear and cub approached the vessel, the former
being speedily shot. The young one was caught, escaped again, and at last
was brought back swimming, and was chained to the ice-anchor. It was very
much frightened, but nevertheless devoured its mother’s flesh when it was
thrown to it. The men built it a snow house, and offered it a couch of
shavings, but young Bruin, as a genuine inhabitant of the Arctic seas,
despised such luxuries, and made its bed in the snow. Some days later it
had disappeared, together with the chain, which must have become loosened
from the anchor. From the weight of the iron alone the poor creature must
soon have sunk. Other Arctic guests visited the _Hansa_. With a brisk wind
came two white foxes from the coast, a certain proof that the ice must
extend thither.

[Illustration: A YOUNG BEAR CHAINED TO AN ANCHOR.]

Towards the end of September the necessity of wintering on the floating
ice off the coast was decided upon, and they resolved on the erection of a
winter house. Bricks were ready in the shape of “coal-tiles,” while water
or snow was to form the mortar. Before anything else was done, the boats
were cleaned out, covered with a roofing, and provisions placed ready for
them in case of emergency. Captain Hegemann sketched the plan for the
building, which was to have an area of 20 × 14 feet, with low roof.
Wall-building has to be given up in frosty weather on land, not so on the
ice. Finely-powdered snow was strewn between the interstices, and water
poured upon it, which in ten minutes became solid ice-mortar. The roof was
at first composed of sail-cloth and matting. Meantime the ice was grinding
and surging around them, and threatening to crush the vessel at any
moment. Underneath the ice-field it groaned and cracked, “now sounding
like the banging of doors, now like many human voices raised one against
the other, and lastly like the drag on the wheel of a railway engine.” The
apparent cause was that the drifting ice was pressing in upon the fixed
coast ice. Meantime the _Hansa_ quivered in every beam, and the masts
swayed to and fro. Provisions and stores were moved to the house in case
of sudden disaster.

[Illustration: THE HOUSE OF THE _HANSA_ ON THE ICE.]

On the morning of the 19th a NNW. gale with snow-storm foreboded mischief.
The air was gloomy and thick, and the coast four miles off could not be
seen. The ice came pressing upon the vessel, and before noon the position
became serious. The piled-up masses of “young ice,” four feet thick,
pressed heavily on the outer side, and the vessel became tilted upwards at
the bows. The men took their meals on deck, not knowing what might happen
next. “Soon,” says the narrator, “some mighty blocks of ice pushed
themselves under the bow of the vessel, and although they were crushed by
it, they forced it up, slowly at first, then quicker, until it was raised
seventeen feet out of its former position upon the ice. This movement we
tried to ease as much as possible by shovelling away the ice and snow from
the larboard side. The rising of the ship was an extraordinary and awful,
yet splendid spectacle, of which the whole crew were witnesses from the
ice. In all haste the clothing, nautical instruments, journals and cards
[the translator means charts] were taken over the landing-bridge. The
after part of the ship, unfortunately, would not rise, and therefore the
stern-post had to bear the most frightful pressure, and the conviction
that the ship must soon break up forced itself upon our minds.” At the end
of the afternoon the ice retreated, and the vessel was once more again in
her native element. The pumps were set to work, and it was soon made clear
that all their exertions would not save the schooner, for the water
steadily gained upon them. The fate of the _Hansa_ was sealed, and the
coal-house on the ice was destined to be their only refuge, may-be their
grave.

The work of removing everything available went on steadily. A snow-storm
had raged during the day, but it cleared in the evening; the moon shed her
cold light over the dreary ice-fields, and ever and anon the Northern
lights flashed over them in many changing colours. The men, whether at the
pumps, or engaged in removing the stores, had a hard time of it. The decks
were thick with ice, and those at the pumps stood in tubs to keep dry and
warm. Night allowed the crew some few hours of welcome rest, and at early
dawn all set to work again. “But the catastrophe was near; at 8 A.M. the
men who were busy in the fore-peak, getting out firewood, came with
anxious faces, with the news that the wood was already floating below.
When the captain had ascertained the truth of this intelligence, he
ordered the pumping to cease. It was evident that the ship was sinking,
and that it must be abandoned.

“The first thing to be done was to bring all necessary and useful things
from the ’tween decks on to the ice—bedding, clothing, more provisions,
and coal. Silently were all the heavy chests and barrels pushed over the
hatchway. First comes the weighty iron galley, then the two stoves are
happily hoisted over; their possession ensures us the enjoyment of warm
food, the heating of our coal-house, and other matters indispensable for a
wintering on the floe. At three o’clock the water in the cabin had reached
the table, and all movable articles were floating. The fear that we should
not have enough fuel made us grasp at every loose piece of wood and throw
it on to the ice. The sinking of the vessel was now almost imperceptible;
it must have found support on a tongue of ice or some promontory of our
field. There was still a small medicine-chest and a few other things
which, in our future position, would be great treasures—such as the
cabin-lamp, books, cigars, boxes of games, &c. The snow-roof, too, and the
sails were brought on to the ice; but still all necessary work was not yet
accomplished. Round about the ship lay a chaotic mass of heterogeneous
articles, and groups of feeble rats struggling with death, and trembling
with the cold! All articles, for greater safety, must be conveyed over a
fissure to about thirty paces farther inland. The galley we at once took
on a sledge to the house, as we should want it to give us warm coffee in
the evening. We then looked after the sailor Max Schmidt, who was
suffering from frost-bite, and brought him on planks under the fur
covering to the coal-house. By 9 A.M. all were in the new asylum, which
was lit by the cabin-lamp, and looked like a dreary tomb. Pleased with the
completion of our heavy day’s work, though full of trouble for the future,
we prepared our couch. A number of planks were laid upon the ground, and
sail-cloth spread over them. Upon these we lay down, rolled in our furs. A
man remained to watch the stove, as the temperature in the room had risen
from 2° Fahr. to 27½° Fahr. It was a hard, cold bed; but sleep soon fell
upon our weary, over-worked limbs. On the morning of the 21st we went
again to the ship to get more fuel. The coal-hole was, however, under
water. We therefore chopped down the masts, and hauled them with the whole
of the tackle on to the ice—a work which took us nearly the whole day. At
eleven the foremast fell, at three the mainmast followed; and now the
_Hansa_ really looked a complete, comfortless wreck. For the last time the
captain and steersman went on deck, and about six o’clock loosed the
ropes, which, by means of the ice-anchor held the ship to the field, as we
feared that our floe, which bore all our treasures, might break.” The
scientific collections and photographs had to be utterly abandoned. On the
night of the 21st and 22nd the wreck sank, about six miles from the coast
of Greenland. The jolly-boat, which stood loose on deck, floated, and was
drawn on the ice.

CHAPTER XXX.

ON AN ICE-RAFT.

A Floating Ice-Raft—The Settlement—Christmas in a New
Position—Terrible Storms—Commotion under the Ice—The Floe breaks
up—House Ruined—Water on the Floe—A Spectre Iceberg—Fresh Dangers
and Deliverances—Drifted 1,100 Miles—Resolution to Leave the
Ice—Open Water—Ice again—Tedious Progress—Reach Illuidlek
Island—Welcome at the Greenland Settlements—Home in Germany—Voyage
of the _Germania_—Discovery of Coal—A New Inlet—Home to Bremen.

Slowly but steadily their ice-field drifted to the south, and by November
3rd they had reached Scoresby’s Sound, sometimes being near the coasts and
sometimes far from them. Since the ship had sunk, fourteen days before,
the ice had closed in upon them, and even the blocks which had broken away
from their field had frozen to it again. Their floating ice-raft was by
degrees investigated in every quarter, roads cleared, and marks set up for
short tours. The mass of ice was at this time about seven nautical miles
in circumference, and seemed to have a diameter in all directions of over
two miles. The ice-raft, on which (as Dr. Laube aptly remarked) they “were
as the Lord’s passengers,” had an average thickness above the water of
five feet, and they considered that there was a submergence of forty feet.
“Our settlement,” says the narrative, “at the beginning of November, when
we were not yet snowed up, might be seen from the most distant points of
our field. Near the chief building lay two snow-houses, which served for
washing and drying ourselves. Boats, heaps of wood, barrels containing
coal and bacon, surrounded this heart of our colony. To prevent the
entrance of the snow and wind into our coal-house, we built an
entrance-hall with a winding path, and a roof constructed in the same way
as that of the house.”

In November, upon a neighbouring floe, separated from them by a small
interval of freshly-frozen water, they saw the shapeless body of a large
walrus lying motionless as a rock. As soon as the boat could be launched
several of them went in pursuit, and with a needle-gun succeeded in
killing it, although in its dying struggles it tried furiously to smash
the young ice on which the hunters stood, and seize them when once in the
water. It took ten men with a powerful pulley several hours before they
succeeded in getting the walrus out of the water on to the ice. Late that
same evening a white bear, the first of their winter’s campaign, was
attracted to the house by the smell of the walrus fat. Three shots greeted
him, the effect of which could not be seen until the following morning.
“About 100 yards distant lay the bear, hit in the head by the bullet, as
if asleep, though quite dead, on the snow. It was a fine handsome beast;
its well-developed head lay upon its front paws; the red drops of blood
stood sharply out against the clean white snow.” It was a gift from heaven
to them in their position. The four hams weighed 200 pounds.

The shortest day was passed, and still they were safe. They determined
that, whether or no fated to see another Christmas, they would celebrate
the present one. “In the afternoon,” says the narrative, “whilst we went
for a walk, the steersman put up the Christmas-tree, and on our return the
lonely coal-hut shone with wonderful brightness. Keeping Christmas on a
Greenland floe! Made of pinewood and birch-broom, the tree was
artistically put together. For the lights, Dr. Laube had saved some wax
candles. Paper chains and home-baked gingerbread were not wanting. The men
had made a knapsack and a revolver case for the captain; we opened the
leaden box from Professor Hochstetter, and the other from the Geological
Reichsanstalt, which caused much merriment. Then we had a glass of port
wine, and fell upon the old newspapers in the boxes, and distributed the
gifts, which consisted of small musical instruments, such as whistles,
jew’s-harps, and trumpets, also little puppets and games of roulette,
cracker bonbons, &c. In the evening chocolate and gingerbread nuts. ‘In
quiet devotion’ (says Dr. Laube in his day-book) ‘the festival passed by;
the thoughts which passed through our minds (they were much alike with
all), I will not put down. If this should be the last Christmas we were to
see it was at least bright enough. If, however, we are destined for a
happy return home the next will be a brighter one. May God grant it!’”

[Illustration: THE SUN AT MIDNIGHT IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS.]

Early next morning they were awakened by a shout from the watch. They were
apparently drifting to land! An island seemed to be straight ahead of
them. Amid great alarm, all turned out. The air was thick, but about three
miles off they could distinguish a dark mass, which looked like an island.
It proved to be an enormous iceberg. Next day they passed the drifting
mass, which moved much slower than their field.

On January 2nd a frightful storm arose, with driving snow. Alarming noises
were heard under the ice. “It was a scraping, blustering, crackling,
sawing, grating, and jarring sound, as if some unhappy ghost was wandering
under our floe.” Perplexed, they all jumped out, but could detect no
change. They lay down, and applying their ears to the floor, could hear a
rustling like the singing of ice when closely jammed, and as if water were
running under the floe. They felt that there was great danger of a
break-up, either from being driven over sunken rocks or against the fixed
ice of the coast, or, may-be, both at once, and they packed their furs and
filled their knapsacks with provisions. Ropes from the house were fastened
to the boats, so that in case of a catastrophe they might be able to reach
them. But the driving snow was so terrible that they hardly dare move, and
they passed a night of misery, expecting each minute to be their last. At
nine next morning the longed-for twilight appeared, and an hour later the
wind abated a little. Some of them went in the direction of the “quay,”
for thus had they christened the spot, 500 steps from the house, where the
sunken _Hansa_ lay. They there found a new wall of ice, and recognised to
their horror that this wall was now the boundary of their floe, whilst on
all sides of it large pieces had broken off, and rose in dark shapeless
masses out of the drifted snow. When, on the morning of the 4th, the storm
had worn itself out, they found that their floating ice-raft had
considerably diminished in size. The diameter, before over two nautical
miles, had now reduced to one; on three sides the house was close to the
edges, and on the fourth it was not over 1,000 steps, where it had
previously been 3,000. The following days were pretty good, and they got
their boats out from the snow, dug out the firewood, and employed
themselves in constructing swimming-jackets and snow-shoes out of cork,
the latter to prevent themselves sinking up to the hips, as they had often
done before.

The days from the 11th to the 15th of January were destined to bring new
horrors. On the first-named day a heavy storm with driving snow prevailed,
in the midst of which the man on watch burst into the house with the
alarm, “All hands turn out!” Hastily gathering their furs and knapsacks,
they rushed to the door, to see it almost completely snowed up. To gain
the outside quickly they broke through the snow-roof, to find that the
tumult of the elements was something beyond anything they had previously
experienced. Scarcely able to move from the spot, they huddled together
for warmth and mutual protection. Suddenly a new cry arose: “Water on the
floe close by!” The heavy waves washed over the ice: the field began to
break on all sides. On the spot between the house and the piled-up wood, a
gap opened. All seemed lost. The firewood was drifting into the raging
sea; the boats were in danger, and without this last resource, what would
they do? The community was divided into two parts. Sadly, though hastily,
these brave Germans bade each other good-bye, for none of them expected to
see the morrow. Cowering in the shelter of their boats, they stood
shivering all day, the fine pricking snow penetrating their very clothes.
Their floe, from its last diameter, about a mile, had dwindled to 150
feet. Towards evening, the heavy sea subsided, and the ice began to again
pack and freeze together. Shortly after midnight a new terror arose, the
sailor on watch rushing in with the information that they were drifting on
an iceberg. All rushed to the entrance, where they could, in the midnight
gloom, distinguish a huge mass of ice, of giant proportions. “It is past,”
said the captain. Was it really an iceberg, the mirage of one, or the high
coast? They could not decide the question, for owing to the rapidity of
the drift, the ghastly object had disappeared the next moment.

Again on the 14th a frightful storm raged, and the ice was once more in
motion. The floe broke in the immediate vicinity of the house, and the
boats had to be dragged near it. “All our labour,” says the narrative,
“was rendered heavier by the storm, which made it almost impossible to
breathe. About eleven we experienced a sudden fissure which threatened to
tear our house asunder; with a thundering noise an event took place, the
consequences of which, in the first moments, deranged all calculations.
God only knows how it happened that, in our flight into the open, none
came to harm. But there, in the most fearful weather, we all stood
roofless on the ice, waiting for daylight, which was still ten hours off.
The boat _King William_ lay on the edge of the floe, and might have
floated away at any moment. Fortunately, the fissure did not get larger.
As it was somewhat quieter at midnight, most of the men crept into the
captain’s boat, when the thickest sail we had was drawn over them. Some
took refuge in the house; but there, as the door had fallen in, they
entered by the skylight, and in the hurry broke the panes of glass, so
that it was soon full of snow. This night was the most dreadful one of our
adventurous voyage on the floe. The cold was -9½° Fahr. (41½° below
freezing). Real sleep, at least in the boat, was not to be thought of; it
was but a confused, unquiet, half-slumber, which overpowered us from utter
weariness, and our limbs quivered convulsively as we lay packed like
herrings in our furs. The cook had, in spite of all, found energy enough
in the morning to make the coffee in the house, and never had the
delicious drink awakened more exhausted creatures to life. The bad weather
raged the whole day. We lay in the boat, half in water, half in snow,
shivering with the frost, and wet to the skin.” Next night was passed in
the same comfortless position, but on the morning of the 16th the second
officer caught sight of a star, and never was there a more welcome omen.
For five nights they slept in the boats, but by the 19th they had
partially rebuilt their house, although from this time forth they had to
take it in turns to sleep in the boats, their new erection being only
one-half the size of the older one. Throughout all the discomfort, want,
hardships, danger of all kinds, the frame of mind among the men was good,
undaunted, and exalted. The cook kept a right seamanlike humour, even in
the most critical moments. As long as he had tobacco nothing troubled him.

And so it went on from day to day: fresh dangers were followed by fresh
deliverances, and in spite of all the perils encountered, no lives were
lost, nor were there any serious cases of sickness. By May they had spent
eight months on their ice-raft, and had drifted 1,100 miles. On the
morning of the 7th they were agreeably surprised to see open water in the
direction of land. The captain, considering that the moment had arrived
when they should leave the floe and try to reach the coast, called a
council. This project received almost unanimous approbation, and in
feverish haste and impatience the boats were hauled empty over three
floes, the stores and necessaries being carried after them, partly on
sledges and partly on the back. At four P.M. they set sail, the officers
and crew being divided into three companies. They made seven miles, and
then hauled up on a small floe. After finding a low spot, and first
emptying the boats, they were lifted, by swinging them in the water, till
the third time, when a strong pull and a pull all together brought their
bows on the ice, and they were soon bodily on its surface. Next day by
noon they were not more than four or five miles from the land, but the ice
was densely packed in irregular masses. Bad weather, with much snow,
detained them six days on a floe; and then, having proceeded some little
distance, they were again condemned to five days’ detention. Their
provisions were getting low; they had rations left for not over a month.
As no change took place in the ice, they resolved to drag their boats over
it to the island of Illuidlek, which, after delays and dangers very
similar to those encountered by Parry on his memorable Polar sledge and
boat journey, was reached on June 4th. A little later they successfully
sailed to the Greenland Moravian mission station of Friedrichstal, where
their troubles ended, and where they received a hearty welcome. A Danish
vessel brought them to Copenhagen on September 1st, and it then became
evident that it was time to pay some attention to their outward
appearance. In their forlorn condition they could not leave the ship, or
they might have been compromised with the police. Some were in seal-skin
caps, some in furs, others in sea boots from which the toes protruded,
with ragged trousers, threadbare coats, and a general air of Arctic
seediness. At length Captain Hegemann fetched them away in the twilight,
and took them to a clothing warehouse, where they were soon made to look
more like civilised beings. A few days later, and they entered Bremen;
not, indeed, in their own good ship, but by an express train, by its east
gate, from Hamburgh. The _Hansa_ men may safely await the judgment of
their contemporaries, for throughout the narrative, good discipline, a
hearty _esprit de corps_, unmurmuring submission to the
inevitable—whatever it might be—and a determination to do and dare
whatever might appear for their mutual advantage, appear on every page.
Germany may well be proud of such sons—Arctic heroes every one of them.
The fortunes of the _Germania_ were less eventful.

Lieutenant Payer, while out on a sledging expedition, made an important
discovery. On Kuhn Island he found a seam of coal, in places eighteen
inches in thickness, alternating with sandstone. It would be strange if in
some future age our supply of warmth should be furnished from Arctic fuel.
Many fine zoological and botanical specimens were collected by the
scientific gentlemen connected with this expedition. The leading discovery
was that of a large inlet in lat. 73° 15’ N., which was named after the
Emperor Franz Josef. Surrounding it were mountain peaks ranging as high as
14,000 feet. The _Germania_ reached Bremen on September 11th, 1870—but a
few days after the arrival of their brethren of the _Hansa_, and at a
period when all Germany was _en fête_ on account of their recent
victories.

CHAPTER XXXI.

HALL’S EXPEDITION—THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN EXPEDITION—NORDENSKJÖLD.

Captain Hall’s Expedition—High Latitude Attained—Open Water
Seen—Death of Hall—The _Polaris_ Beset—An Abandoned Party—Six
Months on a Floating Ice-floe—Rescue—Loss of the
Steamer—Investigation at Washington—The Austro-Hungarian
Expedition—The _Tegethoff_ hopelessly Beset in the Ice—Two Long
Weary Years—Perils from the Ice Pressure—Ramparts raised round the
Ship—The Polar Night—Loss of a Coal-hut—Attempts to Escape—A Grand
Discovery—Franz Josef Land—Sledging Parties—Gigantic Glaciers—The
Steamer Abandoned—Boat and Sledge Journey to the Bay of
Downs—Prof. Nordenskjöld’s Voyage—The North-East Passage an
accomplished Fact.

But little record has been made, except in transient literature and
Government reports, of the expedition concerning which we are about to
write. Captain Charles Francis Hall’s name is, with the public, more
intimately associated with “Life with the Esquimaux,” and but little with
the fact that he succeeded in taking a vessel to a higher latitude than
ever reached in that way before. He returned to America in 1869, having
for five years lived with, and to a great extent _as_ the natives, the
result being that, excepting many errors of taste and style, he succeeded
in producing a work which has a very special ethnological value. Before it
had issued from the press, he had, encouraged by the then Secretary of the
United States Navy, laid a plan before Congress for attempting to reach
the North Pole _viâ_ Smith Sound. He eventually succeeded in obtaining a
grant of fifty thousand dollars for the purpose, while an old U.S. river
gun-boat was placed at his disposal. She was re-named the _Polaris_. It
was understood that no naval officer should accompany him, and he
therefore engaged a whaling captain, one S. O. Buddington, to navigate the
vessel. Two scientific gentlemen, Dr. Bessels and Mr. Meyer, accompanied
him, as did Morton, Kane’s trusty friend, who has been so often mentioned
in these pages.

The expedition sailed in the summer of 1871, and after having touched at
Disco, Greenland, proceeded up Smith Sound, Kane Basin, and Kennedy
Channel, across Polaris Bay (discovered and designated by Hall),
eventually reaching 82° 16’ N., the highest latitude ever attained by a
ship prior to Captain Nares’s expedition. Ice impeded their further
progress. The strait into which they had entered was named after Mr.
Robeson, and from the point which they had so speedily and easily
attained, a water horizon was seen to the north-east. The vessel was laid
up in a harbour named Thank-God Bay, where Captain Hall, after sundry
minor explorations, died on November 8th, having endured severe suffering,
the symptoms indicating paralysis and congestion of the brain. During his
delirium he had expressed the opinion that they were trying to poison him,
and before he would touch medicine, food, or wine, he made his clerk taste
it. This being repeated at home, on the return of the expedition, a
Government investigation of a careful and detailed nature took place at
Washington, but led to nothing being elicited beyond the facts of a want
of _esprit de corps_ among some of the members, and that there had been
some disagreeable dissensions on board. Captain Buddington had no ambition
to distinguish himself in the field of science, which he evidently
despised, being probably what is called a “practical” man—that is, one who
must have immediate gain before his eyes to stir him to exertion—and there
does not appear to have been any very earnest feeling on the part of the
others. Hall died almost on the spot with which his name must ever be
associated, and it is a melancholy fact that he should not have lived to
reap the honours and rewards due to so much enterprise. The _Polaris_, a
steam vessel of small power, and unadapted for the Arctic seas, had been
taken to a point which the finest vessels ever employed in the exploration
of the far north had previously failed in reaching.

[Illustration: THE FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN HALL.]

The death of Captain Hall threw the command of the _Polaris_ on Captain
Buddington. In the second week of November, during a very heavy gale, the
vessel dragged her anchors, but at last brought up safely in the lee of a
large iceberg aground in the bay. She was made fast to it, and remained in
that position for some time. During the winter and spring she was much
damaged by the ice, and when she once more floated, in June, leaked badly.
After sending out an expedition to Newman’s Bay, during the progress of
which one of the boats was crushed like a nutshell by the grinding ice,
Captain Buddington determined to sail for the United States. On August
15th the _Polaris_ was in a position so dangerous among the ice that it
was deemed necessary to place the boats with provisions on a large level
floe, in order to prepare for contingencies. A dark night came on, a gale
arose, and the steamer drifted away in an utterly unmanageable condition,
her steam-pipes, valves, &c., being frozen up. For hours they could not
get up steam on board, while they had little coal, and the boats were on
the ice.

The condition of those left in charge of the boats and stores on the ice
was apparently desperate. Tyson, the second officer, with the steward,
cook, six sailors, and eight Esquimaux, passed a miserable night on the
drifting floe. Next morning hope revived in their breasts when they saw
the _Polaris_ apparently steaming towards them, and all kinds of attempts
were made to attract attention: an india-rubber blanket was hoisted on an
oar, but all to no purpose. The steamer altered her course, disappearing
behind a point of the land, and eighteen deserted beings were destined to
a series of experiences similar to those recorded of the _Hansa_ men. At
the Washington investigation, it was shown that the captain had at the
time hopes of saving his vessel, which, after all, had to be run ashore on
Lyttelton Island, in a sinking condition. As they had the boats and a
supply of provisions, he considered their condition better than his own.

The men on the ice did their best under the circumstances, and their
experiences were hardly less eventful than those of the Germans in a
similar strait. Their food became scarce as the winter advanced, but the
Esquimaux were of considerable use to them in catching seals. They passed
nearly six months on the drifting ice-floe (from October 15th, 1872, to
April 1st, 1873), and when at length they left it, and were rescued by the
sealing steamer _Tigress_, we can well imagine the revulsion of feeling
described in their evidence before the Washington committee. Meantime the
_Polaris_ herself was ashore on Lyttelton Island, where Buddington, his
officers and men, fourteen souls in all, had to pass the winter,
fortunately under no great privations, as the stores were saved. They were
eventually rescued by the _Ravenscraig_, a steam-whaler, and later, having
been transferred to the whaler _Arctic_, reached Dundee, and eventually
their own homes, in safety. In spite of the perils encountered by both
parties, Captain Hall was the only one of the little band who did not live
to reach his native land.

The Americans have, therefore, as we have indicated, stuck bravely to the
Smith Sound route to the Pole, and a large proportion of English and
foreign authorities still favour the same idea.

We have seen the staunch little _Fox_ of M’Clintock’s expedition
miraculously escape from the grinding surging ice after a detention of 242
days, any one of which might easily have been the last for its brave
company; we have witnessed, in mental vision, the philosophical German
crew of the ill-fated _Hansa_ drifting 1,100 miles on their precarious
ice-raft, to be saved, every man of them, at last; and we have just seen
half of the _Polaris_ men rescued from their peril on the floating
ice-field after nearly six months of weary watching. Turn we now to one
more example of the dangers of the Arctic seas to find a vessel to all
appearance hopelessly encompassed in the ice-drifts, and destined not to
make its escape before two long and dreary years had passed away.

When in 1874 the Austro-Hungarian expedition, after a long absence, during
which nothing had been heard from it, returned in safety, many fears which
had been felt were sensibly allayed; and when the public learned of the
difficulties they had encountered and the grand discoveries made, it was
generally voted a complete success. This expedition, under Lieutenant
Weyprecht of the Navy and Lieutenant Payer of the Engineers—who had
already made himself a name as an Arctic explorer in the second German
expedition—had been partly organised at the expense of the public, and
greatly aided by Count Wilczek, who accompanied it in his yacht as far as
Barents Island. A very small steamer—no more than 220 tons—named the
_Tegethoff_, was employed, and among its officers was Captain Carlsen, who
it will be remembered, had circumnavigated Spitzbergen some time before,
and was the discoverer of the Barents relics; he served in the capacity of
ice-master. The crew, all told, only numbered twenty-four men. The
expedition sailed from Bremerhaven on June 13th, 1872, provisioned for
three years, and was soon among the ice of the north-east. Early in August
the vessel became beset in such a manner that progress was next to
impossible. “Subsequently,” says Lieutenant Payer, “we regained our
liberty, and in latitude 75° N. we reached the open water extending along
the coast of Novaya Zemlya. The decrease in temperature and quantity of
ice showed, indeed, that the summer of 1872 was the very opposite of that
of the year before.” The vessels kept company as far as the low Barents
Islands, where the “thick-ribbed ice,” agitated and driven on the coast by
winds and gales, stopped their progress for a week. On the 21st of August
the _Tegethoff_ got clear, and left her consort, the former steaming
slowly towards the north. “Our hopes,” says Payer, “were vain. Night found
us encompassed on all sides by ice, and (as it eventually proved) for two
long and dreary years! Cheerless and barren of all hope the first year lay
before us, and we were not any longer discoverers, but doomed to remain as
helpless voyagers on a floe of drifting ice.” This is, so far as is known,
the longest period for which a vessel has been ice-encompassed, and the
reader will require no assistance to picture the apparently hopeless
condition in which they found themselves, with but little prospect of
accomplishing anything approaching exploration. With the autumn of 1872
came unusually severe weather, which caused the ice-blocks to re-freeze as
soon as they were sawn asunder, and they were utterly unable to extricate
the vessel, although every effort was made. On October 13th the ice broke
up, and the collisions of and with enormous masses placed them in great
danger. They were quite ignorant of their position and where they were
drifting. In the sombre darkness of the long Arctic night they had to keep
the boats and stores in readiness, as they might have to abandon the
vessel at any moment. The floes were constantly uplifted by other ice
underneath, but the little _Tegethoff_ proved herself staunch and true.
Eventually a rampart of ice was erected about the little vessel, which had
to be continually watched and repaired, on account of the damage received
from the pressure of surrounding ice. Amidst all these dangers the routine
of the ship was admirably kept up. Divine service was observed, and a
school established for the crew. The men suffered severely from scurvy and
pulmonary complaints during the winter.

In the autumn of 1873 an important discovery was made. “We had,” says
Payer, “long ago drifted into a portion of the Arctic sea which had not
previously been visited; but in spite of a careful look-out we had not
been able hitherto to discover land. It was, therefore, an event of no
small importance, when, on the 31st of August, we were surprised by the
sudden appearance of a mountainous country, about fourteen miles to the
north, which the mist had up till that time concealed from our view.” They
had no opportunity of reaching it until the end of October, when a landing
was effected in lat. 79° 54’ N., on an island, lying off the mainland, to
which they affixed the name of Count Wilczek, to whom the expedition had
in great measure owed its existence. Their second Polar night of 125 days
prevented any further exploration, but was passed without a recurrence of
the dangers they had met the previous winter. Their winter quarters were
comparatively safe, and being near the land they obtained a sufficiency of
bear-meat, the animals often approaching the ship closely.

[Illustration: START OF LIEUT. PAYER’S SLEDGE EXPEDITION.]

In the winter of 1874 several sledging parties were sent out. On the 24th
of March, Lieutenant Payer, with six companions, left the vessel, dragging
a large sledge freighted with provisions and stores to the extent of
three-fourths of a ton. They succeeded in reaching the new land, after
many a struggle with the ice-hummocks, snow-drifts, and floods of
sea-water which had submerged some parts of the ice. Their difficulties
were increased by the fact that a once fine team of dogs was reduced to
three capable of being of service. Payer describes the new land as broken
up by numerous inlets and fiords, and surrounded by innumerable islands.
The mountains were of fair altitude—from 2,000 to 5,000 feet in
height—while the glaciers in the valleys were of gigantic size, and formed
a great feature in the wild scenery. Some visited “were characterised by
their greenish-blue colour, the paucity of crevasses, and extraordinarily
coarse-grained ice.” The vegetation was poor, as might be expected. To
this hitherto unknown land the name of the Emperor Franz Josef was
affixed. The party reached the high latitude of 81° 37’ N.

[Illustration: FALL OF THE SLEDGE INTO A CREVASSE.]

The return journey to the vessel was made successfully, although the
scarcity of provisions obliged them to make forced marches, and also
necessitated a division of the party remaining behind under a cliff on
Hohenlohe Island, while Payer, with two of the crew and a small sledge,
pressed forward for aid. Crossing an enormous glacier on Crown Prince
Rudolf Land, one of the men, the sledge and dogs, fell into a gigantic
crevasse which the snow had concealed. Payer himself might have come to
grief had not he had presence of mind enough to cut the harness by which
he was attached to the sledge. For a time the case looked very bad, as
they were unable to extricate the unfortunate explorer. Payer, however,
with that quickness which is one of his distinguishing characteristics,
immediately ran back some twelve miles to the other party, and obtained
assistance. They had eventually the happiness of rescuing the man, &c., by
means of ropes. After many perils in the journey over the rotten ice they
succeeded in joining the anxious little band on the vessel. Alas! the
_Tegethoff_, which had passed unscathed so many dangers, had to be
abandoned in the ice, and a journey by boat and sledge commenced, very
similar to that of Barents, made three centuries before. After mournfully
nailing the flags to the ship’s mast, on May 20th they started on their
doubtful and adventurous trip. It took them over three months (ninety-six
days) to reach the Bay of Downs, in lat 72° 4’, where they happily met a
Russian schooner, and their troubles were over.

And now to the Arctic expedition which stands out pre-eminently above
almost any other whatever. Professor Nordenskjöld may be congratulated on
having performed the most intrepid and daring feat of the present century,
speaking in a geographical point of view. The North-East Passage has been
accomplished. “The splendid success,” said a leading journal, “has been
splendidly deserved. It was no lucky accident of exploration that found
the _Vega_ a way round the northernmost point of Asia, or chance good
fortune that carried her through new seas to the Behrings Straits.
Professor Nordenskjöld has fought it out fairly with Nature. The combat
has been a long one, and round after round had to be toughly contested
before the Professor closed with his opponent, the Arctic Ocean, and
floored the grim old tyrant. Six times he has gone northward to do battle
with ice and snow, and each time, though returning, he has brought back
such knowledge of the enemy’s weakness that assured him of ultimate
success.” Unfortunately the details as yet at hand are meagre, and only
the bare outlines of the story can be presented. Some of the important
scientific results of the expedition will be referred to in future pages.

The _Vega_, a tough, teak-built steam whaler, left Gothenburg on July 4th,
1878, sighted Nova Zembla on the 28th, and anchored that day off a village
on the Samoyede peninsula at the entrance of the Kara Sea, once known as
the Ice Cave, but which of late has lost its terrors for even the hardy
Norwegian fisherman. Nordenskjöld knew the right season to attempt its
passage, and it was surprised when almost free of ice. On August 1st,
after making many scientific observations of importance, the _Vega_
proceeded slowly eastward, nothing but rotten ice, which in no way impeded
the vessel, being met. In a few days they were safely anchored in
Dickson’s Haven, Siberia, a spot perhaps destined to become an important
exporting point. Bears and reindeer were found to be numerous, and the
vegetation extremely rich. On the 10th the _Vega_ again proceeded, and
threading her way through unknown islands, reached a fine harbour situated
in the strait that separates Taimyr Island and the mainland, where they
dredged for marine specimens with great success. Again resuming the
voyage, they, on the evening of the 19th, anchored in a bay round Cape
Chelyuskin, the most northerly point of the Asiatic continent. This, the
once unconquerable cape, had now been conquered, and that fact alone would
have constituted a splendid triumph, although it now only forms an episode
in this grand voyage. Low mountains, free from snow, were seen to the
southward; geese, ducks, and other birds were seen on the coast, while the
ocean was alive with walrus, seals, and whales. On the 21st, though
delayed by fogs and rotten ice, the _Vega_ coasted south-east; and on the
23rd, aided by a fine breeze and a smooth sea, was able to dispense with
steam. At the Chatanga river they shot bears and wild fowl to their
heart’s desire. On the 26th they passed the entrance to the mouth of the
Lena, and on the 27th turned northward for the Siberian Islands, which
they were prevented from exploring, owing to the ice. Nordenskjöld ordered
the vessel’s head to be turned southward, and they passed the mouth of the
great Kolyma river. Soon they were among the ice, and, as they had
anticipated, were to be imprisoned in it. But the health of the party was
excellent, and no scurvy whatever appeared; their own provisions were of
the best; and after passing Cook’s Cape, Vankarema, the _Vega_ crossed to
Kolintchin, where the furnaces were put out, the sails stowed, and winter
life fairly commenced. At a mile distance ashore there was a Tchuktchi
village of 4,000 souls, all living easily, for fish and seals, bear, wolf,
and fox, were abundant, while in spring the geese, swans, and ducks,
returned from the south. For nearly nine months they were ice-bound; but
at last the ice floes broke up and scattered, and the little _Vega_ soon
passed East Cape, the extremity of Asia, and steamed gaily into Behring
Straits, where a salute was fired, announcing a success unprecedented in
the annals of Arctic history. The Professor believes that voyages may be
regularly performed in the future which will open up a considerable trade
with northern Siberia.

Surrounded by almost every conceivable difficulty and danger, Arctic
research has witnessed and developed more genuinely heroic skill and
enterprise than has been needed or found in the exploration of any other
portion of our globe. With all its dangers the North Polar world possesses
a rare fascination for the adventurous, and has something to offer in
palliation of its monotonous desolation. The yet unknown must always have
charms for the greatest minds, even though it should prove practically
unknowable; the undiscovered may not always be so, for the unfathomed of
the past may be fathomed to-day. The Polar regions offer much to the
scientist, and, in some phases, much to the artist. The beautiful Aurora
flashes over the scene and banishes the darkness of the Arctic night. The
vastness of Nature’s operations are shown in the huge icebergs clad in
dazzling whiteness or glittering in the moon’s silvery rays in the
interminable fields of fixed or floating ice, in glacial rivers of
grandest size. As the bergs melting in the warmer waves assume endless
fantastic forms—as of pointed spires, jagged steeples, or castellated
remains, and as, losing the centre of gravity, they roll over to assume
new forms, or meeting together crash like thunder or the roar of
artillery, throwing up great volumes of foam, disturbing the surface of
the sea for miles, the puniness of man is felt, and the mind inevitably
lifted from Nature up “to Nature’s God.”

Much has been done; still, there is yet work which remains to be
accomplished in the Arctic seas. But brave men will never be wanting when
new attempts are made. As the old sea-captain, looking at the chart in
Millais’ picture, says, concerning the North-West Passage, “It might be
done—and England ought to do it!”

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE ANTARCTIC REGIONS.

Has the South Pole been Neglected?—The Antarctic even more
Inhospitable than the Arctic—The Antarctic Summer—Search for the
_Terra Australis_—Early Explorers—Captain Cook’s
Discoveries—Watering at Icebergs—The Southern Thule—Smith’s
Report—Weddell’s Voyage—Dead Whale Mistaken for an
Island—D’Urville’s Adélie Land—Wilkes Land—Voyages of James
Ross—High Land Discovered—Deep Beds of Guano—Antarctic
Volcanoes—Mounts Erebus and Terror—Victoria Land.

One might well inquire, without a previous knowledge of the reasons, why
the South Pole has not received the attention which has been lavished on
the North. The fact is that while the Arctic regions do not present many
attractions for travel, and certainly even less for residence or
settlement, the Antarctic regions are still more unpromising in both
particulars. The extreme intensity of Antarctic cold is found to commence
at a much higher latitude than in the northern hemisphere. In the Arctic
seas large icebergs are rarely found till the 70th parallel of latitude is
reached, while stationary fields are met in a still higher latitude. In
the South Pacific both occur at from 50° to 60° of southern latitude. The
mountains of Cape Horn, of Terra del Fuego, and outlying islands, are
covered with perpetual snow quite to their sea-coasts. “This contrast,”
say Professor Tomlinson, in one of the few general works we possess on the
subject,(42) “has been ascribed to the shorter stay which the sun makes in
the southern hemisphere than in the northern. But this difference,
amounting to scarcely eight days, has been proved to be exactly
compensated by the greater nearness of the earth to the sun during the
southern than during the northern summer. Another cause must therefore be
sought, and as it is a fact that water becomes less heated by the same
amount of sunshine than any solid substance, this cause will be found in
the vast extent of the Antarctic seas, the total absence of any great
surface of land, and the form of the continents which terminate towards
the south almost in points, thus opening a free and unencumbered field to
the currents from the Polar seas, and allowing them to push forward the
icy masses in every direction from the south pole towards the southern and
temperate zone.”

The word _Antarctic_ explains itself as that part of the earth opposite to
the Arctic.(43) Winter in the one corresponds to summer in the other, and
_vice versâ_. When the Arctic circle is delighting in one long summer day,
the Antarctic regions are oppressed by the darkest gloom. When we in
England are, or should be, enjoying the bright days of midsummer, the
southern Polar regions are pitchy dark, while at our Christmas-tide that
part of the earth is bathed in floods of sunshine.

It has been seen that our knowledge of the North Polar seas has been
largely the result of explorations in search of a north-western or
north-eastern passage or strait to the Pacific. The exploration of the
Antarctic regions is mainly due to quests after a continent in the
southern seas—the _Terra Australis incognita_ of many old geographers. The
belief in the existence of such a land can be traced back as far as 1576,
when Juan Fernandez is reported to have sailed southward from Chile, and
to have arrived after a month’s voyage at a _tierra ferme_, a charming
fertile land inhabited by friendly and almost civilised natives. If the
story be not altogether apocryphal, it may possibly have been some part of
New Zealand. At the same period there were wild reports in circulation
concerning the discovery by Alvaro Mendana de Neyra of some southern
islands abounding in silver. That navigator, however, could not find them
at all in a later voyage, and perished miserably, with many of his
companions, at Egmont, or Santa Cruz Island. His pilot, Pedro Fernandez de
Quiros, in 1605-6 made a professed voyage in search of the southern
continent, his voyage resulting in the discovery of Pitcairn’s Island, the
New Hebrides, and other lands, while one of his captains, Luis Vaes de
Torres, passed through the strait between Australia and New Guinea now
named after him. The first actual approach to the then unknown southern
polar lands appears to have been made by one Dirk Gerritz, a Dutchman, in
January, 1600. This vessel was in the East India service, and was driven
by a gale from the immediate latitude of the Straits of Magellan far to
the south, where he discovered a barren, craggy, snow-covered coast,
similar to that of Norway. His accounts were discredited, but have since
proved to have been accurate enough, and the land is now known as New
South Shetland, and has been proved to cross the Antarctic circle. The
expeditions of Kerguelen, sent out for the purpose of exploring the
southern regions, resulted only in the discovery of the group of islands
now known by his name. It is to the celebrated Captain Cook that we owe
the earliest careful explorations of the south polar regions.

[Illustration: VIEW OF CAPE HORN.]

Late in November, 1772, H.M. ships _Resolution_ and _Adventure_ left the
Cape of Good Hope in search of the unknown continent, and early in
December of the same year were driven by several gales among and in
dangerous proximity to icebergs, one of which is described as flat at its
top, about fifty feet in height, and half a mile in circuit. A large
number of penguins and other birds were on these bergs, and this was
deemed a reason for thinking land near. The ice islands yielded excellent
fresh water, large detached lumps being taken on board and the sea water
allowed to drain off on deck, when there was hardly a trace of salt
perceptible to the taste. Part of it was kept as ice, while a quantity was
melted in coppers. Cook said that it was the most expeditious way of
watering he had seen. In the middle of February they had fair weather,
with clear serene nights, when the beautiful Aurora Australis, or Southern
Lights, were seen. “The officer of the watch observed that it sometimes
broke out in spiral rays, and in a circular form; then its light was very
strong, and its appearance beautiful. He could not perceive that it had
any particular direction, for it appeared at various times in different
parts of the heavens, and diffused its light throughout the whole
atmosphere.” Bad weather followed, making navigation dangerous among the
bergs, while it was bitterly cold. A litter of nine pigs was killed a few
hours after their birth by the cold, in spite of all the care taken to
preserve them. This was in the Antarctic summer, which, however, improved
considerably afterwards. Captain Cook was then tempted to advance a few
degrees to the south, but soon altered his mind when the weather again
changed for the worse.

It was not till the 31st of January, 1775, on the same voyage, that Cook,
who had become “tired of these high southern latitudes, where nothing was
to be found but ice and thick fogs,” made a discovery of land. They had
been sailing over a sea strewed with ice, when the fog lifting, three
rocky islets of considerable elevation disclosed themselves at a distance
of three or four miles, one terminating in a lofty peak like a sugar-loaf.
It was named _Freezeland Peak_. To the east of this a high coast, with
lofty snow-clad summits, appeared, and soon another broken coast-line came
in sight, to which the name of _Southern Thule_ was given, as it was the
most southerly land yet discovered. Other coasts, promontories, and
mountains, soon came in view, which Cook tells us had land apparently
between them, leading him to the conclusion that the whole was connected.
Prudence forbade him venturing nearer the coast. The reader must remember
that his were not the days of steam.

New land appeared next morning, with outlying islands, named the
_Candlemas Isles_ in honour of the day on which they were discovered. The
whole of the new land was named _Sandwich Land_, and was supposed to be
either a group of islands, or the point of a continent. Cook firmly
believed in a tract of land near the Pole as the source of most of the
icebergs in those seas, but did not attempt a further exploration.

It was not till the year 1819 that the commander of the brig _William_,
Mr. William Smith, sailing south-east from the latitude of Cape Horn,
noted in latitude 62° 30’ S. and longitude 60° W., an extensive
snow-covered land, on the coasts of which seals were abundant. As he was
bound with a cargo to Valparaiso, he could not follow up his discovery;
but on arrival at that port informed H.B.M. Consul, Captain Sheriff, of
the fact he had ascertained, and that gentleman dispatched Mr. Edward
Barnsfield, master of the frigate _Andromache_, to explore the new-found
land. It was found to consist of a group of islands, numbering twelve,
with innumerable rocky islets between them. There was little doubt that it
was a part of the same land sighted by Gerritz more than two centuries
before, and now known as the South Shetlands. They were further explored
in 1820 by Mr. Weddell, whose crews obtained an immense number of
sea-elephants and fur seals. These islands are nearly inaccessible, being
ice-bound, while almost any part of them, other than perpendicular cliffs,
is perpetually snow-covered. There are a few small patches of straggling
grass where there is any soil, and a moss similar to that found in
Iceland. In 1821 other additions were made to our knowledge of islands
adjacent to the South Shetlands by Captains Powell and Palmer, the latter
an American, and by the Russian navigator, Bellinghausen, who reached a
very southern point. They are respectively known as _Trinity_, _Palmer’s_,
and _Alexander’s Lands_. A voyage in 1822 has importance, as it led to
valuable results, in a commercial point of view. The brig _Jane_, of
Leith, Captain Weddell, with a crew of twenty-two officers and men,
accompanied by a cutter, set sail in September of that year on a voyage to
the South Seas for the purpose of procuring fur seals. At the beginning of
January, 1823, the vessels first came in sight of the land of the high
southern latitude, and the next day reached the South Orkneys. The tops of
the islands mostly terminated in craggy peaks, and looked almost like the
mountain tops of a sunken land. Proceeding southward, they one evening
passed very close to an object which appeared like a rock. The lead was
immediately thrown out, but no bottom could be found. It turned out to be
a dead whale, very much swollen, floating on the surface. Weddell obtained
at South Georgia a valuable cargo. From the sea-elephant no less than
20,000 tons of oil were obtained in a few seasons, the cargoes always
including a large number of fur sealskins. American sealers also took
large cargoes of these skins to China, where they sold for five or six
dollars a skin. The Island of Desolation, described by Cook, was also a
source of great profit. “This is a striking, but by no means uncommon
example of the commercial advantage to be derived from voyages of
discovery.” In 1830, Captain Biscoe, commanding the sealing brig _Eliza
Scott_, made the discovery of another range of islands, since named after
him. In 1839, Captain Balley, in a ship belonging to Messrs. Enderby, the
owners of the last-named vessel, discovered land in latitude 66° 44’ S.,
which was in all probability a portion of the same territory sighted by
Wilkes and D’Urville a year afterwards. Thus, while America and France
claim the honour of having discovered an “Antarctic continent,” Balley
seems to have forestalled them. It is extremely doubtful whether the
patches of land seen by these explorers can be considered to form a great
southern continent.(44)

D’Urville, after describing the “lanes” of tall icebergs by which his ship
was enclosed and impeded, states that they sighted land, some few miles
off, with prominent peaks 3,000 feet and upwards in height, and surrounded
with coast ice. Some boats were sent off to make magnetic observations,
and one of the officers succeeded in landing on a small rocky islet, on
which the tricolour flag was unfurled. Not the smallest trace of vegetable
life could be discovered. Numerous fragments of the rock itself were
carried off as trophies. Close at hand were eight or ten other islets. The
land thus discovered was named Adélie Land (after Admiral D’Urville’s
wife). A projecting cape, which had been seen early in the day, was called
Cape Discovery, and the islet on which the landing was effected was named
Point Geology.

Wilkes describes his discoveries in similar terms to those of previous
explorers already mentioned. Stones, gravel, sand, mud, &c., were noted on
a low iceberg, proving the existence of land somewhere about, but it must
be borne in mind that a landing on anything but ice was not effected.

An attempt on the part of Captain (afterwards Sir James) Ross to establish
magnetic observations in the southern hemisphere was unsuccessful, but
resulted in a discovery of importance. On January 11th, 1841, land was
sighted, rising in lofty snow-covered peaks, the elevation of some of
which was stated to be from 12,000 feet to 14,000 feet. Various peaks were
named after Sabine and other distinguished philosophers who had advocated
the cause of the expedition. With some difficulty they landed on an
island, on which they planted our flag, and drank a toast to the health of
the Queen and Prince Albert. It was named Possession Island. There was no
vegetation, but “inconceivable myriads of penguins completely and densely
covered the whole surface of the island, along the ledges of the
precipices, and even to the summits of the hills, attacking us,” says
Ross, “vigorously as we waded through their ranks, and pecking at us with
their sharp beaks, disputing possession; which, together with their loud
coarse notes, and the insupportable stench from the deep bed of guano,
which had been forming for ages, and which may at some period be valuable
to the agriculturists of our Australasian colonies, made us glad to get
away again, after having loaded our boats with geological specimens and
penguins.” Whales were very numerous; thirty were counted at one time in
various directions.

Further south the interesting discovery was made of an active volcano, a
mountain 12,400 feet altitude, emitting flame and smoke at the time. It
was named after the _Erebus_, one of the vessels employed, while a second
volcano, scarcely inferior in height to the first-named, was called Mount
Terror, after our staunch old friend the vessel which so well withstood
the ice in Sir George Back’s expedition. “On the afternoon of the 28th,”
says Ross, “Mount Erebus was observed to emit smoke and flame in unusual
quantities, producing a most grand spectacle; a volume of dense smoke was
projected at each successive jet with great force, in a vertical column,
to the height of between 1,500 and 2,000 feet above the mouth of the
crater, when, condensing first at its upper part, it descended in mist or
snow, and gradually dispersed, to be succeeded by another splendid
exhibition of the same kind in about half an hour afterwards, although the
intervals between the eruptions were by no means regular. The diameter of
the columns of smoke was between two and three hundred feet, as near as we
could measure it; whenever the smoke cleared away, the bright red flame
that filled the mouth of the crater was clearly perceptible; and some of
the officers believed they could see streams of lava pouring down its
sides until lost beneath the snow, which descended from a few hundred feet
below the crater, and projected its perpendicular icy cliff several miles
into the ocean.”

The whole of the land traced to the seventy-ninth degree of latitude was
named Victoria Land. Ross “restored to England the honour of the discovery
of the southernmost known land,” which had previously belonged to Russia,
as won twenty years before by the intrepid Bellinghausen. A second and a
third visit was made by Ross, on the latter of which he made some
discoveries of minor importance.

[Illustration: LISBON IN THE 16TH CENTURY. (_After an Engraving of the
period._)]

CHAPTER XXXIII.

DECISIVE VOYAGES IN HISTORY.—DIAZ—COLUMBUS.

An Important Epoch in the History of Discovery—King John II. of
Portugal and his Enterprises—Diaz the Bold—Ventures out to
Sea—Rounds the Cape—Ignorant of the Fact—The Cape of Storms—King
John re-christens it—Columbus and the Narrative of his Son—His
Visit to Portugal—Marriage—An un-royal Trick—Sends his Brother to
England—His Misfortune—Columbus in Spain—A prejudiced and ignorant
Report—The One Sensible Ecclesiastic—Again Repulsed—A Friend at
Court—Queen Isabella Won to the Cause—Departure of the
Expedition—Out in the Broad Atlantic—Murmurs of the Crews—Signs of
Land—Disappointment—Latent Mutiny—Land at Last—Discovery of St.
Salvador—Cuba—Natives Smoking the Weed—Utopia in
Hispaniola—Columbus Wrecked—Gold Obtained—First Spanish
Settlement—Homeward Voyage—Storms and Vows—Arrival in
Europe—Triumphant Reception at Barcelona.

The Arctic and Antarctic voyages, purposely kept together and followed to
their latest developments, having been described, we now go back to the
most interesting and important period in the world’s history,
geographically considered. In little less than a dozen years three of the
grandest discoveries in geography were made. First, the discovery of a
passage round the Cape of Good Hope, the sea-portal to the Indian Ocean,
the Orient generally, Australasia (not, indeed, then discovered, or even
dreamt of), and the innumerable islands of the various Eastern
Archipelagos. Next, the passage of the Atlantic ocean to the far west, the
discovery of the West Indies and the New World. Last, and not least, in
its ultimate bearings on the prosperity of Great Britain, the passage by
sea direct to India—its conquest and settlement by the Portuguese. What
other epoch can boast so much accomplished in a time so brief?

To King John of Portugal are we indebted for the first of these great
discoveries. He fitted out a small squadron under Bartholomew Diaz, a
knight of the royal household, to attempt the passage by sea to India,
after endeavouring to learn all that was then known about that country.
For this important enterprise Diaz was supplied with two small caravels of
fifty tons each, accompanied by a still smaller vessel, or tender, to
carry provisions. The preparations being completed, he sailed in the end
of August, 1486, steering directly to the southward.

“We have,” says Clarke, “no relation of the particulars of this voyage,
and only know that the first spot on which Diaz placed a stone pillar, in
token of discovery and possession, was at _Sierra Parda_, in about 24°,
40’ S., which is said to have been 120 leagues further to the south than
any preceding navigator. According to the Portuguese historians, Diaz
sailed boldly from this place to the southward, in the open sea, and never
saw the land again until he was forty leagues to the east of the Cape of
Good Hope, which he had passed, without being in sight of land.” Here he
came in sight of a bay on the coast, which he called _Angra de los
Vaqueros_, or Bay of Herdsmen, from observing a number of cows grazing on
the land. From this place Diaz continued his voyage eastwards, to a small
island or rock in the bay, which is now called Algoa, on which he placed a
stone cross, or pillar, as a memorial of his progress, and named it on
that account Santa Cruz, or _El Pennol de la Cruz_.

It would appear that Diaz was still unconscious that he had long reached
and overpassed the extreme southern point of Africa, and was anxious to
continue his voyage still farther. But the provisions on board his two
caravels were nearly exhausted, and the victualling tender under the
command of his brother was missing. The crews of the caravels became
exceedingly urgent to return, lest they should perish with famine. With
some difficulty he prevailed on the people to continue their course about
twenty-five leagues further on, as he felt exceedingly mortified at the
idea of returning to his sovereign without accomplishing the discovery on
which he was bent. They accordingly reached the mouth of a stream now
known by the name of Great Fish River.

From this river, the extreme boundary of the present voyage, Diaz
commenced his return homewards, and discovered, with great joy and
astonishment, on their passage back, the long-sought-for and tremendous
promontory, which had been the grand object of the hopes and wishes of
Portuguese navigation during _seventy-four_ years, ever since the year
1412, when the illustrious Don Henry first began to direct and incite his
countrymen to the prosecution of discoveries along the western shores of
Africa. At this place Diaz erected a stone cross in memory of his
discovery; and owing to heavy tempests, which he experienced off the high
table-land of the Cape, he named it _Cabo dos Tormentos_, or Cape of
Storms; but the satisfaction which King John derived from this memorable
discovery, on the return of Diaz to Portugal, in 1487, induced that
sovereign to change this inauspicious appellation for one of more happy
omen, and he accordingly ordered that it should in future be called _Cabo
de bon Esperança_, or Cape of Good Hope, the title which it has ever since
retained.

[Illustration: BARTHOLOMEW DIAZ ON HIS VOYAGE TO THE CAPE]

Soon after the discovery of _The Cape_—by which shorter name it is now
pre-eminently distinguished—Diaz fell in with the victualler, from whom he
had separated nine months before. Of nine persons who had composed the
crew of that vessel, six had been murdered by the natives of the West
Coast of Africa, and Fernand Colozzo, one of the three survivors, died of
joy on again beholding his countrymen. Diaz and his companions were, of
course, honourably received by their sovereign, after a voyage of such
unprecedented length and unusual success. And now to the second of the
great discoveries of this epoch, which, chronologically considered,
follows that of Diaz.

In the long list of honoured names who have made geographical discovery
their aim, none shines with a greater effulgence than that of Columbus,
and although in his old age he was disgracefully ignored and even
maltreated, succeeding times have done full justice to his memory. The
present writer has gone to the fountain source for his information; the
whole of the narrative to follow is taken from the history written by his
son, Don Ferdinand Columbus. It would be easy, from the many popular
biographies written by well-known authors, to compile a more fanciful and
readable story, but some, at least, of these writers have not strictly
adhered to facts, but have wandered somewhat into the region of the
imagination. The account given to the world by the son of the great
navigator was compiled from the original letters and documents, from
actual information obtained direct, and from personal observation.

The narrative of Don Ferdinand commences amusingly. He avers that many
would have him prove a highly honourable descent for the admiral his
father, and because on his arrival in Portugal he had assumed the name of
Colon,(45) prove that he had come in direct line from Junius Colonus, who
brought Mithridates a prisoner to Rome, or from the two illustrious
Coloni, who gained a great victory over the Venetians. The son is,
however, candid, and says, “that however considerable they (his
progenitors) may once have been, it is certain that they were reduced to
poverty and want through the long wars and factions in Lombardy. I have
not been able to discover in what way they lived; though in one of his
letters the admiral asserted that his ancestors and himself had always
traded by sea.”(46) Don Ferdinand glories in his father as one of the
people, who had risen to his high estate by reason of honourable merit.
But however poor, he found means to leave his native city, Genoa, and
study astronomy, geometry, and cosmography, at the University of Pavia. He
is believed to have gone to sea at as early an age as fourteen. The date
of his birth is uncertain, but is believed to have been in 1447. Besides
voyaging constantly in the Mediterranean, he, as elsewhere recorded, made
a northern voyage of some importance. He distinctly states that “In
February, 1467, I sailed an hundred leagues beyond Thule, or Iceland.”

[Illustration: CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS.
(_After a Portrait in the Gallery of Vicenza._)]

In his person Columbus was “above the middle stature, and well shaped,
having rather a long visage, with somewhat full cheeks, yet neither fat
nor lean. His complexion was very fair with delicately red cheeks, having
fair hair in his youth, which became entirely grey at thirty years of age.
He had a hawk nose, with fair eyes. In his eating and drinking, and in his
dress, he was always temperate and modest. In his demeanour he was affable
to strangers, and kind and condescending to his domestics and dependents,
yet with a becoming modesty and dignified gravity of manner, tempered with
easy politeness.” His regard for religion was strict and sincere, and he
had a great abhorrence of profane language. In a word, Columbus was one of
nature’s truest gentlemen.

His son states that the reason for his visit to Portugal “arose from his
attachment to a famous man of his name and family, named Columbus, long
renowned on the sea as commander of a fleet against the infidels.” He must
have commanded a goodly fleet, for while Christopher Columbus was with him
he took four large Venetian galleys, after a desperate fight. The vessel
in which Columbus was, took fire, and he had to leap into the water and
make for the land, two leagues distant. He was an excellent swimmer, and,
by the aid of a floating oar, he succeeded in landing on the coast near
Lisbon. This was his first introduction to that city. Here he married a
lady of good family, Donna Felipa Moniz. Her mother was the widow of
Perestrello, one of the captains who had re-discovered Madeira, and she
put at the disposal of Columbus all the charts and journals left by her
husband, from which he learned much of the discoveries made by the
Portuguese. It was at this time that he began to think seriously of
attempting a passage to the Indies by the westward.

Columbus first laid his plans before Prince John of Portugal, who lent a
favourable ear, but on account of the large expenses connected with his
expedition to the Guinea Coast, which had not hitherto been crowned with
any great success, could not promise immediate action. Later, by the
advice of one Doctor Calzadilla, in whom he reposed great confidence, the
King of Portugal resolved to attempt secretly the discovery which Columbus
had proposed. Accordingly, a caravel was fitted out under pretence of
carrying supplies to the Cape Verd Islands, with private instructions to
sail to the west. Those sent on the expedition had little knowledge or
enterprise, and after vaguely wandering about the Atlantic some time,
returned to the Cape Verde Islands, laughing at the undertaking as
ridiculous and impracticable. “When,” says the son, “this scandalous
underhand dealing came to my father’s ears, he took a great aversion to
Lisbon and the Portuguese nation.” Little wonder, one would think! His
wife was now dead, and he resolved to repair to Castile with his little
son. Lest, however, the Spanish sovereign might not consent to his
proposals, he determined to send his brother, Bartholomew Columbus, from
Lisbon, to make similar proposals to the King of England. Bartholomew was
experienced in seamanship, and understood the construction of charts,
globes, and nautical instruments. On the voyage he had the misfortune to
be taken by pirates, who stripped him and the rest of the ship’s company
of everything of value. Poor Bartholomew arrived in England in poverty and
sickness. Undaunted by his misfortunes, he commenced making and selling
charts, in order to recruit his finances. After much loss of time, he, in
February, 1480, presented a map of his own construction, and the proposals
of his brother, to the king, who became very favourably inclined towards
the project; and ordered an invitation to be sent to Columbus, desiring
him to come to England forthwith. But, alas! England was fated not to have
the services of this great navigator. “Providence,” says Ferdinand, “had
determined that the advantage of this great discovery should belong to
Castile; and by this time my father had gone upon his first voyage.”

About the end of the year 1484 the admiral stole away privately from
Lisbon, as he was afraid of detention. The king had by this time come
somewhat to his senses, and it is asserted that he was desirous of
renewing the conferences with Columbus. But he did not use much diligence,
and thereby missed his last grand opportunity. Columbus next addressed
himself to their Catholic Majesties of Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella, then
at Cordova. His affable manners and evident knowledge soon gained him a
hearing; but as their Majesties considered that a matter of such
importance required to be learnedly investigated, it was referred to the
prior of Prado, afterwards Archbishop of Granada, who was to obtain the
assistance of some cosmographers, and report on its practicability. The
report they presented was unfavourable to the enterprise. Some thought
Columbus presumptuous in expecting to accomplish that which skilful
sailors of all nations had not done, although several thousand years had
elapsed since the creation of the world. Others said that the world was of
such prodigious size, that they questioned whether he would reach the
Indies that way in three years. Others used the powerful argument that if
they sailed round the world _down_ from Spain, they would never get _up_
again! No ship could climb up-hill! The ecclesiastics quoted St.
Augustine, to the effect that the antipodes were an impossibility, and
that no one could go from one hemisphere to another. Ignorance and
credulity triumphed for the time, but not for long.

Columbus was not to be beaten. He followed the court to Seville, and was
again repulsed. He resolved to write to the King of France, and, if
unsuccessful there, follow his brother to England. But at this juncture he
acquired the friendship of the father guardian of the monastery of Rabida,
who, believing in his schemes, earnestly entreated him to postpone his
departure, saying that, as he was confessor to the Queen, he was resolved
to try his influence. All honour to Father Perez, the one sensible
ecclesiastic of his nation! A fresh conference was held, but the demands
of Columbus were deemed too high, and again the matter fell to the ground.
The admiral settled his affairs, and prepared to leave for France.

He had actually started on his journey, when an officer was despatched
after him to induce him to return. The queen had at last listened to the
good counsels of Santangel (comptroller of the royal disbursements), who
had before shown himself a friend to Columbus. He had pointed out to her
majesty that the sum of money required was small, and that she was missing
an opportunity that might redound greatly to the honour of her reign, and
the credit of which now some foreign monarch would reap. From comparative
apathy Isabella rose to enthusiasm, and the treasury being pretty well
exhausted by the war with Granada, she offered to pawn her jewels in order
to raise the necessary funds. Santangel immediately replied that there was
no occasion for this, and that he himself would readily advance his own
money in such a service.

All the conditions which the admiral required having been conceded, he set
out from Granada on May 21st, 1492, for Palos, that seaport having been
bound by the Crown to furnish two caravels. Columbus fitted these and a
third vessel with all speed. His own ship was the _St. Mary_; the second,
named the _Pinta_, was commanded by Martin Alonso Pinzon; and the third,
the _Nina_, by the latter’s brother, Vincent Yanez Pinzon. The united
crews comprised a force of ninety men. Columbus set sail on this, his
first voyage in the service of Portugal, on the 3rd of August, 1492,
making direct for the Canaries.

[Illustration: CARAVELS OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS.
(_After an Engraving published in 1583._)]

The day after leaving, the rudder of the _Pinta_ broke loose, and, after
being repaired as well as they were able at sea, the fastenings gave way a
second time. Alonzo Pinzon was more than suspected of having caused this
damage purposely, as he had endeavoured to avoid proceeding on this voyage
before the expedition left Spain. Having again repaired the rudder, they
continued the voyage, and successfully came to an anchor at the Canaries
on August 12th. The admiral tried in vain to obtain another vessel for
Pinzon. At length the _Pinta_ having been patched up, the little squadron
set sail. “Now,” says Ferdinand, “losing sight of land, and stretching out
into utterly unknown seas, many of the people expressed their anxiety and
fear that it might be long before they should see land again; but the
admiral used every endeavour to comfort them, with the assurance of soon
finding the land he was in search of, and raised their hopes of acquiring
wealth and honour by the discovery.” He purposely under-stated the
distance made each day, in order to make his people believe that they were
not so far from Spain after all; but he carefully recorded the true
reckoning in private. On September 12th they discovered in the water the
trunk of a large tree; and the people in the _Nina_, a few days later,
observed a heron flying over them, and also a smaller bird. Next, a
quantity of yellowish-green sea-weed was observed floating in the water; a
small lobster and a number of tunny fish were also noted. These signs of
approaching land raised hopes which were not immediately fulfilled; and
the crews, being utterly unacquainted with the seas they now traversed,
seeing nothing but water and sky, began to mutter among themselves. Later,
a number of seagulls and small land birds were seen, the latter settling
sometimes in the rigging. Again, a vast floating field of sea-weed was
encountered. These appearances gave some assurances of comfort to the men
at times; but when the weeds became thick enough to partially impede the
progress of the vessels, they became terrified, lest the fabled fate of
St. Amaro in the frozen seas, whose vessel could neither move forward nor
backward, might be theirs. “Wherefore they steered away from those shoals
of weeds as much as they could.”

On the 23rd a brisk WNW. gale, favourable for their course, arose, and on
the same day a turtle-dove, a land fowl, and other birds, were seen. The
more these tokens were observed, and found not to be followed by the
anxiously-looked-for land, the more the crews rebelled; cabals were
formed, of which the admiral was only partially aware. “They represented
that they had already sufficiently performed their duty in adventuring
further from land and all possibility of succour than had ever been done
before, and that they ought not to proceed on the voyage to their manifest
destruction.” They growlingly remarked that Columbus was a foreigner, who
desired to become a great lord at their expense, that he had no favour at
court, and that the most learned men had scorned his ideas as visionary
and absurd. Some even went so far as to propose cutting the Gordian knot
by throwing him overboard. Poor Columbus! He had enough to do, sometimes
expostulating and sometimes threatening, and always in danger of a mutiny
upsetting all his grand projects. Nor were matters improved on September
25th, when Pinzon, whose vessel was near, shouted out to the admiral,
“Land! land, sir! let not my good news miscarry!” Next morning the
supposed land resolved itself into sea-clouds.

During the following days the men caught some fish “with gilt backs” with
the aid of a line, and numerous birds were observed. Still Columbus
persisted in a westerly course, although many on board, thinking that the
birds were flying from one unseen island to another, wished him to
deviate. About sunrise on Sunday, October 7th, some signs of land appeared
to the westward, “but being imperfect, no person would mention the
circumstance. This was owing to fear of losing the reward of thirty crowns
yearly for life which had been promised by their Catholic majesties to
whoever should first discover land; and to prevent them calling out ‘land!
land!’ at every turn without just cause, it was made a condition that
whoever said he saw land should lose the reward if it were not made out in
three days, even if he should afterwards actually prove the first
discoverer.” Those on the _Nina_, however, forgot this provision, and
fancying they saw land, fired a gun and hoisted their colours. This time
also they were disappointed, but derived some comfort by observing great
flights of large fowl and other birds going from the west towards the
south-west.

It would have been impossible for the admiral to have much longer
withstood the spirit of mutiny which was fast gaining ground, “but,” says
the narrative of Ferdinand, “it pleased God that, in the afternoon of
Thursday the 11th of October, such manifest tokens of being near the land
appeared that the men took courage and rejoiced at their good fortune as
much as they had been before distressed.” From the _St. Mary_ a rush was
seen to float past, and one of those green fish which are never found far
from rocks. Some of the other men noted in the water a branch of a thorn,
with red berries, a curiously-carved stick, and other plain indications of
being close to land. After the evening prayer, Columbus made a speech to
the men, in which “he reminded them of the mercy of God in having brought
them so long a voyage with such favourable weather, and in comforting them
with so many tokens of a successful issue to their enterprise.” As the
admiral was in his cabin that night about ten o’clock he believed that he
saw a light on shore; he called two of the men, one only of whom could
perceive it. It was again seen by the admiral and the sailor, but only for
a very brief space of time. “Being now very much on their guard,” says the
narrative, “they still held on their course until about two in the morning
of Friday the 12th of October, when the _Pinta_, which was always far
ahead, owing to her superior sailing, made the signal of seeing land,
which was first discovered by Roderick de Triana at about two leagues from
the ship. But the thirty crowns a year were afterwards granted to the
admiral, who had seen the light in the midst of darkness, a type of the
spiritual light he was the happy means of spreading in these dark regions
of error. Being now so near land, all the ships lay to; every one thinking
it long till daylight, that they might enjoy the sight they had so long
and anxiously desired.”(47)

[Illustration: COLUMBUS’S FIRST SIGHT OF LAND.]

When daylight arrived, the newly-discovered land was perceived to consist
of a flat island, without hills, but well timbered. It was evidently well
populated, for the beach was covered with people, who showed every sign of
wonder at the sight of the ships, which, says Ferdinand, “they conceived
to be some unknown animals.” The admiral and his commanders, each in their
own boat, with their colours flying, went ashore, where, on arrival, they
fell on their knees, and thanked God for his merciful kindness and for
their happy discovery of the new land. Columbus then took formal
possession of the island in the name of their Catholic majesties.

And now, these ceremonies concluded, the admiral went off to his fleet,
the natives following in canoes, and many indeed swimming off to the
vessels. Columbus named the island San Salvador, the title it still bears.
As he supposed himself to have landed on an island at the extremity of
India, he applied the term Indians to the aborigines he met, and the same
has in consequence become general to all the original inhabitants of the
New World. The islanders met by Columbus were friendly and gentle, and
usually quite nude. They were painted; this they might regard in the light
of costume, some, indeed, being coloured from head to foot. They had
little or no knowledge of metal weapons, for when shown a naked sword they
ignorantly grasped the whole blade, and were severely cut. Their javelins
were wood, armed with a piece of fish-bone. Their canoes ranged in size
from such as were only capable of holding one person to those built for
forty or more men, and were always hollowed in _one_ piece, as among the
northern Indians of British Columbia to-day, where canoes are to be seen
which will carry fifty to sixty persons and two or three masts with sails.
They had very little to offer in exchange for the toys and trinkets which
had been provided for use on the expedition, but the avarice of the
discoverers was soon excited by the sight of small ornaments of gold among
them, with which they parted as readily as with anything else. Gold, in
enterprises of discovery, being a royal monopoly, Columbus forbade any
traffic in it, except by express permission. Parrots were a prime article
of exchange among them, and cotton yarn. If they saw any trifle on board
that struck their fancy they were as likely to jump into the sea with it
as to offer anything for it, and, on the other hand, the Spaniards, after
the manner of explorers, did not hesitate to accept their valuables in
exchange for the merest trifles. The Indians would give twenty-five or so
pounds of cotton for three Portuguese brass coins not worth a farthing.
Enough; the story of their dealings is that of all times. It is scarcely
more than twelve years since the writer saw the same kind of thing going
on in Northern Alaska among unsophisticated natives. And, after all,
“value” is a somewhat indefinite term. The luxuries of some climes are the
drugs of others. The poor people met by Columbus highly valued a piece of
broken glass or earthenware, because unknown to them, and because the
possession of a fragment bestowed a proud distinction. Cannot we see the
same kind of thing among the most civilised? The rare and scarce must of
necessity be always the most valuable.

Columbus, continuing his voyage, discovered several minor islands.
Everywhere he inquired for gold, and everywhere he was informed that it
came from the south. He began to hear of an island in that direction named
Cuba, which, from the mistaken ideas of geography current at the time, he
took for Marco Polo’s famed gold island of Cipango. He determined to
proceed there, and eventually seek the mainland of India, which must be
within a few days’ sail, and then he would deliver the letters of their
Castilian Majesties to the Great Khan, and return triumphantly to Spain.
Filled with this magnificent scheme, he set sail. We need not say that he
reached neither Cipango, India, nor the Khan; but he did discover Cuba,
that beautiful island of the Caribbean Sea long dear to the heart of every
consumer of the fragrant weed. Every smoker of a good havana should think
of Columbus with deepest gratitude. The Spaniards were struck with
astonishment at seeing the natives roll up certain dried herbs, light up
one end, and putting the other in their mouth, exhale smoke. Cigars as
fresh as these are often smoked in Cuba to this day. Columbus extols the
beauty of the verdure and scenery of the island, and states, as a proof of
the gigantic nature of some of their trees, that he saw a canoe formed
from one trunk capable of carrying 150 people.

While Columbus, on leaving the eastern end of Cuba, was somewhat
undetermined which course to take, he descried land to the south-east,
gradually increasing to the view, and giving promise of an island of large
extent. The Indians on beholding it called out “Bohio” with obvious signs
of terror, and implored him not to go near it, as the inhabitants were
one-eyed cannibals, fierce and cruel. He, however, sailed closer and
closer, till the signs of cultivation and prosperous villages became
frequent. At first the natives fled. Even when only three sailors rambled
on shore, and encountered a large number, they could not be induced to
parley. The sailors at length succeeded in capturing a young female, in a
perfectly nude condition, having hanging from her nose only an ornament of
gold. Columbus soon soothed her terror, had her clothed, and gave her
presents of beads, brass rings, and other trinkets. She was sent on shore
accompanied by three Indian interpreters and some of the crew. By this
means, and after one of the interpreters had succeeded in overtaking some
of the natives, and had assured them that the strangers had descended from
the skies mainly for the purpose of making them presents, they were
induced to meet the Spaniards, whom they treated with the greatest
hospitality, setting before them fruit, fish, and cassava bread. The
description of these people given by Columbus to old Peter Martyr
represented them as holding a community of goods, “that ‘mine and thine,’
the seeds of all mischief, have no place with them.... They seem to live
in the golden world, without toil, living in open gardens, not entrenched
with dykes, divided with hedges, or defended with walls. They deal truly
one with another, without laws, without books, and without judges. They
take him for an evil and mischievous man who taketh pleasure in doing hurt
to another.” This must have been Utopia indeed! Alas, as we shall see, the
advent of so-called civilisation proved a veritable curse. Columbus named
the island Espannola, or Little Spain (_Anglicé_, Hispaniola). The island
is now known as Hayti, or San Domingo.

[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF AN ENGRAVING, REPUTED TO BE BY COLUMBUS,
PUBLISHED IN 1493, REPRESENTING THE DISCOVERY OF THE ISLE OF SPAIN (ST.
DOMINGO).]

The people of Hispaniola appeared handsomer to Columbus than any he had
yet met. He was at length visited by a young cacique or chief, and the
interview was graphically described by Columbus himself in his oration
before Ferdinand and Isabella and the court on his return to Spain.

Having put to sea on the morning of December 24th, at eleven in the
evening, Columbus, being very fatigued, retired to his cabin. The sea was
calm and the wind light at the time. No sooner had he left than the
steersman gave the helm to a _grummet_,(48) and the result was that the
current carried the vessel upon a treacherous sandbank. Scarcely had the
shock occurred than Columbus and his crew were on deck, but in spite of
aid from the other vessel, she speedily became a wreck, and had to be
deserted. The admiral immediately sent ashore to the village of the
cacique, at some little distance, and that chief with all his people with
canoes assisted to unload the unfortunate vessel. “From time to time,”
said Columbus, “he sent some of his people to me weeping, to beg me not to
be dejected, as he would give me everything he possessed. I assure your
highnesses that better order could not have been taken in any port in
Castile to preserve our things, for we did not lose the value of a pin.”
The Indians about this time brought in some few specimens of gold, worked
and in the rough state, and the cacique perceiving that the admiral was
much pleased at the sight, said he would order a quantity to be brought
from a place called Cibao, where it was abundant. After offering him to
eat, he presented him with gold ornaments and masks, in which latter the
precious metal formed part of the features.

The chief complained greatly of a nation named the Caribs, who carried off
and made slaves of his people, and Columbus, who was impressed with the
beauty and productiveness of the island, readily promised to leave some of
his people to protect him and form a colony. Cannons had not been very
long familiar to Europeans, and we hardly wonder, therefore, that the
natives “fell down as if dead” on hearing the reports of those fired by
order of the admiral. Finding so much kindness among these people, and as
the narrative of his son _naïvely_ remarks, “_such strong indications of
gold_,” he almost forgot his grief at the loss of his vessel. A fort or
block-house was immediately erected, and leaving three officers and
thirty-six men as garrison, he set sail for Spain.

[Illustration: RECEPTION OF COLUMBUS BY FERDINAND AND ISABELLA.]

On February 4th (1493) the vessels were overtaken by a fearful storm. The
whole company betook themselves to prayer, and cast lots which of them
should go on pilgrimage for the whole crew to the shrine of Our Lady of
Guadaloupe, which fell to Columbus. After other pilgrimages had been
vowed, and the storm still increasing, “they all made a vow to go
barefooted and in their shirts to some church of Our Lady at the first
land they might come to.” The admiral, fearing the loss to the world of
his discoveries, retired to his cabin to write two brief accounts of them.
These were wrapped in wax and enclosed in casks, one of which was thrown
into the sea, while the other was placed on the poop of his vessel, in
case she should founder. Happily, the storm subsided, and they reached the
island of St. Mary, where they were detained by some formalities of the
naval etiquette of the day. Leaving St. Mary’s, they encountered a second
gale of terrific force, during the continuance of which more vows were
made, and the lot again fell to Columbus, “showing,” says his son, “that
his offerings were more acceptable than others.” They were driven off the
rock of Cintra, and perforce had to anchor in the Tagus. When it was known
at Lisbon that the ship was freighted with the people and productions of a
new world the excitement was intense, and from morn to night the vessel
was thronged with visitors. In an interview with the king, Columbus
recited his adventures and discoveries. King John listened with the
deepest interest, and for the moment concealed his mortification. Columbus
himself was loaded with attentions and allowed to depart for Spain. Great
was the agitation and excitement in the little town of Palos, when the
well-known vessel of the admiral re-entered their harbour. Most of those
who thronged to the shore had relatives or friends on board, and the
previous winter had been one of the most severe and stormy within the
recollection of the oldest mariners. They awaited the landing of Columbus
and his crew, and then accompanied him to the principal church, where
solemn thanksgivings were offered, and soon every bell in the village sent
forth a joyous peal. His journey to Barcelona was one continued triumph.
He was accompanied by several of the native islanders, arrayed in their
simple barbaric costume, and decorated with rude collars, bracelets, and
ornaments of gold. He exhibited in the principal towns quantities of gold
dust, many quadrupeds, and gaily-coloured birds, then unknown in Europe,
with numerous specimens of natural productions in the vegetable and
mineral kingdoms. It was the middle of April when Columbus reached the
Court at Barcelona. The nobility, courtiers, and city authorities, came to
the gates to meet him, and escorted him to the royal presence. Ferdinand
and Isabella, seated under a superb canopy of state, rose as he
approached, and begged him to be seated—unprecedented marks of honour in
that proud court. Columbus had triumphed; he had for the time silenced the
sneers and cavils and specious arguments of courtiers and ecclesiastics.
Prescott(49) has well described the interview. In reciting his adventures,
“his manner was sedate and dignified, but warmed with the glow of natural
enthusiasm. He enumerated the several islands which he had visited,
expatiated on the temperate character of the climate, and the capacity of
the soil for every variety of agricultural productions.... He dwelt more
at large on the precious metals to be found in these islands.... Lastly,
he pointed out the wide scope afforded to Christian zeal, in the
illumination of a race of men, whose minds, far from being wedded to any
system of idolatry, were prepared by their extreme simplicity for the
reception of pure and uncorrupted doctrine. This last consideration
touched Isabella’s heart most sensibly; and the whole audience, kindled
with various emotions by the speaker’s eloquence, filled up the
perspective with the gorgeous colouring of their own fancies, as ambition,
or avarice, or devotional feeling, predominated in their bosoms. When
Columbus ceased, the king and queen, together with all present, prostrated
themselves on their knees in grateful thanksgivings, while the solemn
strains of the _Te Deum_ were poured forth by the choir of the royal
chapel, as in commemoration of some glorious victory.” All kinds of
attentions were showered upon him: he was permitted to quarter the royal
arms with his own, which consisted of a group of golden islands amid azure
billows; and received the substantial gratuity of 1,000 doblas of gold
from the royal treasury, besides the premium promised to the person who
first descried land. But that which pleased Columbus most were the
preparations of the court for further discoveries, on a scale befitting
their importance. The complement of the new fleet was originally fixed at
1,200 persons, but was eventually swollen to 1,500, and many who joined
were persons of rank and distinction among the royal household. The
squadron counted no less than seventeen vessels.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

DECISIVE VOYAGES IN HISTORY.—COLUMBUS. VASCO DA GAMA.

Columbus and his Enemies—Unsuitable Settlers—Outrageous Conduct of
the Colonists—The Second Expedition of Columbus—Discovery of
Jamaica—Dangerous Illness of Columbus—Return to Spain—The
Excitement over—Difficulty of starting a New Expedition—Third
Voyage—Columbus reaches the Mainland of America—Insurrection in
Hispaniola—Machinations at Home—Columbus brought to Spain in
Chains—Indignation in Spain—His Fourth Voyage—Ferdinand’s
Ingratitude—Death of the Great Navigator—Estimate of his
Character—Vasco da Gama—First Voyage—The Cape reached—First Sight
of India—At Calicut—Friendship of the King of Cananore—Great
Profits of the Expedition—Second Voyage—Vengeance on the Ruler of
Calicut—His Brutality—Subsequent History of Da Gama.

The first accounts transmitted to Spain from this grand expedition were of
the most sanguine description. But in less than two years from the
commencement of this second voyage very different stories reached the home
country. It was true that on the voyage Columbus had made further
discoveries of a grand nature—the islands of Jamaica, Guadaloupe, and the
Caribbee Islands. But rumours, and more than rumours, had reached the
Court of the most alarming discontent and disaffection in the colony of
Hispaniola, while the actual returns of a practical and commercial nature
were as yet exceedingly small. The real secret was, however, that mutiny,
jealousy, and distrust of Columbus as a foreigner, had sprung up among the
Spanish adventurers, most, or at least many, of whom were little fitted
for rough life in a new country. They were like the miscellaneous crowds
who in our own day have gravitated towards the gold and diamond fields, a
large number of whom expect to make gigantic fortunes without special
effort, and in a very short space of time. The hidalgoes and cavaliers, of
whom there was a too large proportion on the expedition, could not bend
themselves to obey Columbus, whom they deemed an upstart. Prescott, who
has collated more carefully than any other writer the many authorities on
the subject, shows that the Spaniards indulged in the most wanton licence
in regard to the unoffending natives, who in the simplicity of their
hearts had received the white men as messengers from heaven. A general
resistance had, however, soon followed, which led to a war of
extermination. In less than four years after the Spaniards had set foot on
San Domingo, one-third of its native population, amounting, according to
several authorities, to many hundred thousands, were sacrificed by war,
famine, and disease. These figures are undoubtedly exaggerations, but the
number was very large. It is due to Columbus, always a just and humane
man, to state that he did all in his power to prevent this sad state of
affairs, and was forced by his own people to war on the Indians; and
equally due to Isabella at home, to record that she was in no way a party
to it, but expressed the utmost horror.(50) These excesses, and a total
neglect of agriculture—for none would condescend to dig unless for
gold—nearly brought about a famine, and Columbus had to put them on very
short rations, and compel all to work, whether high or low bred. These
regulations led to further mutiny and discontent.

[Illustration: ANCIENT GOLD-WASHING AT ST. DOMINGO. (_After an Old
Engraving._)]

On the return of Columbus to Spain, he brought home, as before, some gold
and other samples of Nature’s productions in the islands. But other
voyagers returned, who loudly abused the new colony, and whose often wan
and sallow features provoked the satirical remarks of the people, that
they had come back with more gold in their features than in their pockets!
In short, the novelty of the excitement had passed, and like many really
valuable colonies of our own day which have been at first over-lauded and
over-estimated, Hispaniola fell utterly in public estimation. The Spanish
sovereigns, more especially Isabella, appear to have lent an unwilling ear
to the accusations of mal-administration by Columbus. Meantime the
treasury was drained by the expenses of an Italian war, and large expenses
had been incurred for the actual maintenance of the colony. But Isabella,
who really believed in Columbus, whose serious and yet enthusiastic
character resembled her own, at length found some means for a new
expedition, by sacrificing funds intended for another purpose. But now it
was found as difficult to induce men to join the new expedition as it had
been easy in the previous one. Even convicts were employed as sailors, and
this proved a ruinous expedient. All being at length ready, Columbus once
again embarked on May 30th, 1498, his little squadron consisting of six
vessels. On this voyage he discovered Trinidad, the mouth of the
Orinoco—which river he imagined to proceed from the tree of life in the
midst of Paradise—and the coasts of Paria, South America. This was really,
then his first visit to the _mainland_ of America. On August 14th he
sailed for Hispaniola once more, where he found that an insurrection had
been raised against his brother, Bartolomeo, whom he had left as his
deputy. At this juncture all the real interests of the colony were
neglected, and even the gold-mines, which were beginning to prove
remunerative, were unwrought. The convicts on the vessels helped to swell
the mass of general mutiny, and it took Columbus nearly a year before it
was in part quelled. Meantime discontented and worthless men kept
returning to Spain, where, encouraged by idle courtiers, they worried the
king daily with accounts of the unproductiveness of the colony. They even
surrounded him, as he rode out on horseback, clamouring loudly for the
arrears of which they said Columbus had defrauded them.

It is very difficult to exactly understand the course pursued at this
juncture by the king. The popular view, as adopted by most writers, is
that he regarded Columbus as having served his day: the ladder had
fulfilled its use, and might now be kicked down. It is, perhaps, more
reasonable to believe that Ferdinand hardly knew how to act, with his
queen still firmly believing in the great discoverer, and so much pressure
in other directions being brought to bear from the court and outside. It
was determined to send out a commissioner to investigate the affairs of
the colony, and the person chosen seems to have been a most unfit agent.
He was one Francisco de Bobadilla, a poor knight of Calatrava, who, puffed
up with arrogance at his sudden elevation, seems from the first to have
regarded Columbus in the light of a convicted criminal. On his arrival in
San Domingo he immediately commanded the admiral to appear before him, and
without even pretence of legal inquiry, put him in chains, and thrust him
into prison. His two brothers, Bartolomeo and Diego, suffered the same
indignities. Bobadilla gave orders that he should be kept strictly in
irons during the passage; “afraid,” says his son Ferdinand, satirically,
“that he might by any chance swim back again to the island.” It is
recorded that the officers who had him in charge would have removed them,
but Columbus proudly and bitterly told them, “I will wear them till the
king orders otherwise, and will preserve them as memorials of his
gratitude.” On arrival at Cadiz, it is not to be wondered that the popular
indignation burst forth like a torrent, and was re-echoed through Spain;
all seemed to feel it as a national dishonour that such indignities should
be heaped on the greatest discoverer of his day. Ferdinand understood the
weight of obloquy which, rightly or wrongly, would rest upon him, and sent
to Cadiz immediately to release him. The king disclaimed all share in the
shameful act; while the queen, who was at least honest in the matter, shed
tears when the old man came into her presence, and endeavoured to cheer
his wounded spirit. But Ferdinand had no intention of reinstating him in
his former power, and Columbus wasted nine months in vain solicitations
for redress. At the end of this time, another governor of Hispaniola was
appointed in his place. During this time Columbus was reduced to poverty,
and we have his own statement to the effect that “he had no place to
repair to except an inn, and very frequently had not wherewithal to pay
his reckoning.”

[Illustration: COLUMBUS UNDER ARREST.]

Later he was indeed employed on a fourth voyage, but with greatly
curtailed powers. He imagined that there might be a passage through the
Isthmus of Darien, which would shorten the passage to the East Indies. It
need not be stated that he did not find it, although a ship canal through
that neck of land has been and is now being mooted, and may some day
become an accomplished fact. He, however, discovered parts of the coasts
of Honduras, the Mosquito coast, and Costa Rica. Again we find him making
his way to Hispaniola, on this occasion with only two over-crowded
vessels, almost wrecks in fact, out of the four with which he had sailed
from Cadiz. Here he exhausted his funds in procuring necessaries and
comforts for his men, even for those who had on the voyage been the
ringleaders of vexatious and outrageous mutinies. At length he returned to
Spain, where he learned of the death of Queen Isabella, his warm patron.
Wearied with illness and disappointment, it was some months before he
could proceed on his journey to the court, then at Segovia. Columbus at
this period of his life—he was not far from seventy years of age—suffered
severely from gout. When he did meet Ferdinand, that monarch gave him fair
words, but those alone. Prescott has probably indicated the secret,
although he admits that “it was the grossest injustice to withhold from
him the revenues secured by the original contract with the crown.” Poor
Columbus was obliged to borrow money at this time for necessary expenses.
The truth was that the king, as the resources of the new countries began
to develop themselves, saw that he had promised a larger proportion of the
profits than he ever would have done to a subject and a foreigner could he
have foreseen the importance of the discoveries. He was so unjust as to at
last propose a compromise—that the admiral should relinquish his claims,
in consideration of other estates and dignities to be assigned him in
Castile. He regarded him in the unwelcome light of a creditor, whose
claims were too just to be disavowed, and too large to be satisfied. It is
very doubtful whether Columbus received any assistance from the crown at
this time, and wearied in spirit, with health broken by a life of great
hardship, he did not long survive. He expired on May 20th, 1506, and his
remains, first deposited at Valladolid, were, six years later, removed to
Seville, where a costly monument was raised over them by King Ferdinand,
with the following inscription:—

“A Castilla y á Leon
Nuevo mundo dió Colon”;

“Columbus has given a new world to Castile and Leon”—a very limited
estimate of what he had done. From Seville his remains were taken, in
1536, to San Domingo; and at length, on the cession of that island to the
French in 1795, were removed to Cuba, where they were finally allowed to
repose in peace in the cathedral church of Havana.

While the Spaniards were prosecuting enterprises of great importance in
and about the New World, the Portuguese were well employed in pushing
their way towards the Orient by a sea route. The aims of both were
practically the same. Each wished to find a shorter route to that fabled
Cathay, the land of gold, and pearls, and spice, and silk. The celebrated
voyages of Vasco da Gama deserve a full share of notice.

[Illustration: VASCO DA GAMA.]

The first expedition of Da Gama consisted of three moderate-sized vessels.
On the Sunday selected for offering prayers for the success of the
expedition, Dom John, with his nobles and court, assembled in the
beautiful cathedral, which is still so great an ornament to the banks of
the Tagus, and at the conclusion of mass the king stood before the curtain
where Vasco and Paulo da Gama placed themselves with the captains of their
expedition, on bended knees, and devoutly prayed that they might have
strength of mind and body to carry out the wishes of the king to increase
the power and greatness of his dominion, and be the means of spreading the
Christian religion. With these excellent professions, and amid very
general demonstrations of popular interest, Da Gama set sail on July 5th,
1497. Proceeding for the Cape of Good Hope, Da Gama ventured boldly from
the gulf of Guinea, and made a direct course to the Cape, and sailed for
three months—August, September, and October—without sighting land. At
last, on November 4th, they got sight of land in the forenoon, and were so
rejoiced, that the ships were decorated with flags, and the captains and
crews put on their best array, no doubt anxious to come to anchor
somewhere, and land. It was some days, however, before they could do so,
at a point believed to have been near the present St. Elena Bay. Da Gama
with the other captains went ashore to endeavour to learn from the natives
the distance to the Cape of Good Hope.

Leaving St. Elena they encountered heavy gales, during which Da Gama
proved the possession of great courage and resolution. The waves ran
mountains high, and the little vessels seemed in peril of being engulfed
every minute. The wind was piercingly cold, and so boisterous that the
commands of the pilot could seldom be heard amid the din of the elements.
The sailors exhausted by fatigue and abandoned to despair, surrounded Da
Gama, entreating him not to devote himself and them to inevitable
destruction. But he resolved to proceed; and, at length, on Wednesday, the
20th November, all the squadron safely passed round the Cape, and on the
25th had sighted land beyond the furthest point reached by Diaz.

At Mozambique, Vasco da Gama sent a Moor ashore with presents to the
Sheikh, who tried to act treacherously towards him, by stealing his
merchandise. Nor did he fare much better at Quiloa, where the king
endeavoured, by means of false pilots, to run Da Gama’s ships on the
shoals at the entrance of the port. But at Melinde they were received with
full honours, and large supplies of provisions were sent on board. The
king visited the ships, and was received with royal hospitality. The
expedition sailed on August 6th, the long delay being caused by the
monsoons. After a passage of about twenty days they first sighted the high
land of India off the coast of Cananore. The news of the arrival spread
with great rapidity, and the natives were alarmed, for had they not the
legend “that the whole of India would be taken and ruled over by a distant
king, who had white people, who would do great harm to those who were not
their friends?” The soothsayers, however, told them that the time had not
yet come for the fulfilment of this prophecy.

On the arrival of the expedition at Calicut(51) the Portuguese were well
received, for the king had discovered that the strangers had plenty of
merchandise with them. He immediately sent them presents, “of many pigs,
fowls, and cocoa-nuts fresh and dry,” and professed to a desire to enter
into friendly relations with the king of so great a people. When Da Gama
landed, he took with him twelve men of “good appearance,” and a large
number of presents and a display of cloths, crimson velvet and yellow
satin, gilt and chased basins, and ewers, knives of Flanders with ivory
handles and glittering blades, and so forth. But the Moorish traders,
fearing to lose their business, interfered, and the king eventually turned
round upon Gama, and endeavoured to capture his ships. Finding it unsafe
to remain, the half-laden vessels left Calicut, Da Gama threatening
revenge. In the King of Cananore they found a monarch well-disposed to
trade, and the Portuguese ships sailed thence very richly laden for the
homeward voyage.

Their arrival at Lisbon after two years and eight months’ absence was a
time of great rejoicing. The direct results of the expedition,
pecuniarily, were immense. In spite of the cost of the expedition and
presents made, the profit was “fully sixty-fold.” Rewards were bestowed on
all who had taken part in the expedition, and Da Gama himself received the
title of “Dom” with many grants and privileges. He was also created high
admiral of Spain.

The second expedition of Dom Gama had avowedly for its object the
punishment of the King of Calicut. Ten large ships, fitted with heavy guns
and all the munitions of war then known, with five lateen-rigged caravels,
formed the fleet. Arrived at Cananore, he related to the friendly king the
manner in which he intended to be revenged on the King of Calicut. The
former “swore upon his head, and his eyes, and by his mother’s womb that
had borne him, and by the prince, his heir,” that he would assist Da Gama
to his utmost, and they soon matured a system of trade. Gama then sailed
for Calicut, which he found deserted of its shipping, the news of his
previous doings having reached that port.

The King made one effort at conciliation by sending on board one of the
chief Brahmins of the place with a flag of truce, but Da Gama rejected
every overture, ordered the Indian boat back, and kept the ambassador on
board, while he bombarded the city. While this was going on there came in
from the offing two large ships and twenty-two sambachs and Malabar
vessels, which he plundered, with the exception of six of the smaller
vessels that belonged to Cananore, and barbarously put to death a large
number of the captives. The King of Calicut, surrounded with the wives and
relations of those who had been so shamefully massacred, bewailing in the
most heart-rending manner their loss, and beseeching protection, called a
council, and it was resolved to construct armed proas, large rowing barges
and sambachs, and as many vessels of war as could be mustered. Long before
they were ready, Dom Gama had sailed with his fleet for Cochym (Cochin
China) having on his way wreaked vengeance on as many of the Calicut
vessels as crossed his path. The king of Cochym had resolved from the
first to be friendly with the Portuguese, and Gama soon established an
important factory, from which the power of Portugal spread over India. In
1503 he returned to his own country, to be welcomed with fresh honours and
titles, but was not immediately reappointed to command in India. In 1524,
however, he was appointed viceroy of Portuguese India, and a year later
died in Cochin China. Thus ended the life of one of the most courageous
adventurers the world has seen, but a life stained by crimes of the most
brutal nature.

[Illustration: VIEW OF CALICUT IN THE 15TH CENTURY.]

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE COMPANIONS AND FOLLOWERS OF COLUMBUS.

The Era of Spanish Discovery—Reasons for its Rapid
Development—Ojeda’s First Voyage—Fighting the Caribs—Indians and
Cannon—Pinzon’s Discovery of Brazil—A Rough Reception—Bastides the
Humane—A New Calamity—Ships leaking like Sieves—Economical
Generosity of King Ferdinand—Ojeda’s Second Voyage—The disputed
Strong-Box—Ojeda Entrapped—Swimming in Irons—Condemned
Abroad—Acquitted at Home—A Triumphant Client, but a Ruined Man—A
Third Voyage—Worthy La Cosa—Rival Commanders—A Foolish Challenge.

In the following pages the enterprises of certain Spanish and Portuguese
voyagers less known to fame than those recently under notice, but still
great names in the history of maritime discovery, will be recorded. Not
merely had the examples of such men as Columbus and Vasco da Gama stirred
up a spirit of adventure unparalleled before or perhaps since, but, as
Washington Irving shows us,(52) the conquest of Granada and the end of the
Peninsular war with the Moorish usurpers, had deprived the Spanish of a
sphere of action which had occupied them almost incessantly during the
eight centuries preceding. The youth of the nation, bred up to daring
adventure and heroic achievement, could not brook the tranquil and regular
pursuits of common life, but panted for some new field of romantic
enterprise. The treaty of Columbus with Ferdinand and Isabella was, in a
sense, signed with the same pen that had subscribed to the capitulation of
the Moorish capital; while not a few of the cavaliers who had fought in
that memorable war now crowded the ships of the discoverers, firmly
believing that a grand new field of arms had opened to them.

Alonzo de Ojeda, a native of New Castile, was one of this numerous class.
He had fought against the Moors when a youth, and had accompanied Columbus
on his second voyage when only twenty-one years of age. One of his
relatives, a Dominican friar, was one of the first inquisitors of Spain,
and was an intimate of the Bishop Fonseca, who had the chief management of
the affairs of the Indies, which then included all the countries as yet
known in the New World. Ojeda, therefore, was naturally and easily
introduced to the Bishop’s notice, who took him under his special
protection. When he had accompanied Columbus he had taken with him a small
Flemish painting of the Holy Virgin, presented to him by Fonseca, and this
he had always carried with him as a protecting charm, invoking it at all
times of peril; while to its possession he attributed his hitherto
wonderful immunity from harm. When Columbus returned from his third
voyage, with the news of rich discoveries, especially of the
pearl-fisheries of Paria, Ojeda had no difficulty in obtaining from the
Bishop, who was one of the worst enemies of poor Columbus, a commission
authorising him to fit out an armament and proceed on a voyage of
discovery. It does not appear that the sanction of the King and Queen was
asked on this occasion. The means were readily supplied by merchants of
Seville. Among his associates were several men who had just returned with
Columbus, principal among whom was a bold Biscayan, Juan de la Cosa by
name. Amerigo Vespucci, the man from whose first name the title of America
is derived, a broken-down Florentine merchant, accompanied the expedition.
It does not appear that he had any interest in the voyage, or even
position on board ship. Ojeda sailed from Spain on the 20th May, 1499.

After touching at the Canaries, he made, for those days, a rapid voyage to
America. In twenty-four days from leaving the islands he reached the New
World, at a part of the coast considerably south of that discovered by
Columbus, and after a little passed the mouths of several large rivers,
including those of the Orinoco and Esquivo, rivers which freshen the
sea-water for many miles outside. They afterwards touched at the island of
Trinidad, of the inhabitants of which Vespucci gives a number of details.
He tells us that they believed in no religious creed, and therefore
neither prayed nor offered sacrifice. Their habitations were practically
caravanserai, built in the shape of bells (meaning, doubtless, with
bell-shaped roofs), each holding from six hundred to over a thousand
inhabitants. He adds that every seven or eight years the inhabitants were
obliged to change their residences, from the maladies engendered by such
close packing. They ornamented themselves with beads and ornaments made
from the bones of fishes, with white and green stones strung together as
necklaces, and with the feathers of tropical birds. They buried their dead
in caverns or sepulchres, always leaving a jar of water and something to
eat by the head of the corpse, as do some tribes to-day.

At Maracapana, on the mainland, the natives were friendly, and brought
quantities of fish, venison, and cassava bread. They anxiously besought
the Spaniards to aid them in punishing their enemies, the cannibals of a
distant isle, and Ojeda seems to have rather liked the proposition. Taking
seven of the natives on board his vessels to act as guides, he set sail in
quest of these cannibal islands, which are believed to have been the
Caribbees. After seven days he ran his vessels in near the shore of one
which the guides indicated to be the habitation of their cruel foes, and a
number of painted and befeathered warriors were seen on the shore, well
armed with bows and arrows, darts, lances, and bucklers. “This show of
war,” says Irving, “was calculated to rouse the martial spirit of Ojeda.
He brought his ships to anchor, ordered out his boats, and provided each
with a paterero or small cannon. Besides the oarsmen, each boat contained
a number of soldiers, who were told to crouch out of sight in the bottom.
The boats then pulled in steadily for the shore. As they approached, the
Indians let fly a cloud of arrows, but without much effect. Seeing the
boats continue to advance, the savages threw themselves into the sea, and
brandished their lances to prevent their landing. Upon this the soldiers
sprang up in the boats and discharged the patereroes. At the sound and
smoke of these unknown weapons the savages abandoned the water in
affright, while Ojeda and his men leaped on shore and pursued them. The
Carib warriors rallied on the banks, and fought for a long time with that
courage peculiar to their race, but were at length driven to the woods at
the edge of the sword, leaving many killed and wounded on the field of
battle.” Next day a larger number of the savages gathered on the beach,
but, after a desperate fight, were routed, their houses burned, and many
taken prisoners, which was probably Ojeda’s principal object in attacking
them. Many similar experiences followed, but in all cases, as might be
expected, the Spaniards came out conquerors, scarcely any of their men
being even seriously wounded. At one place over a thousand Indians came
off in canoes or swam from shore, so that in a little while the vessel’s
decks were crowded. While they were gazing in wonder at all they saw on
board, Ojeda ordered the cannon to be discharged, at the unaccustomed
sound of which they “plunged into the water like so many frogs from a
bank.”

Ojeda returned to Cadiz in June, 1500, his ships packed with slaves. But
the commercial results of the voyage, after allowing for expenses, were so
small that only about 500 ducats remained to be divided between fifty-five
adventurers. Nino, another adventurer, who had once served as pilot with
Columbus, made a voyage at the same period in a bark of only fifty tons,
returning two months before Ojeda, with a large number of the finest
pearls and some gold. The amount of pearls paid into the royal treasury
was so large that it drew suspicion instead of favour upon Nino and one of
his associates, and the first was actually thrown into prison on the
accusation of having kept the larger part of the spoil. But nothing could
be proved against him, and he was eventually set free.

The year 1499 was also marked by a most important discovery, that of the
great kingdom of Brazil. It was reserved for Vicente Yanez Pinzon, in an
otherwise disastrous voyage, to first cross the equinoctial line, and on
the 28th of January, 1500, to sight the Cape, now known as that of St.
Augustine, which he, however, first named _Santa Maria de la Consolacion_,
because its appearance relieved him from much doubt and anxiety. Soon
after he had taken formal possession of the territory in the name of
Spain, an affray with the Indians occurred. In a general assault the
latter killed eight or ten Spaniards, and the crews retreated to their
boats, disputing every inch of ground. The Indians pursued them into the
water, surrounded the boats, and seized the oars. In spite of a desperate
defence they succeeded in overpowering the crew of one of the boats, and
carried it off. “With this,” says Irving, “they retired from the combat,
and the Spaniards returned defeated and disheartened to their ships,
having met with the roughest reception that the Europeans had yet
experienced in the New World.” Pinzon revenged himself, not on these
savages, but on a quiet and hospitable tribe found on some beautiful
islands off the mouth of the great Amazon River. Thirty-six of the poor
natives were carried off, to be sold afterwards as slaves.

Off the Bahamas Pinzon’s little squadron of four vessels encountered a
terrific hurricane, and two of them went down with all hands in sight of
the remaining two, the crews of which were powerless to help. The third
was driven out to sea, and the fourth was so battered by the furious waves
that her crew abandoned her in their boats. A few inoffensive Indians were
found ashore, and fearing that they might spread the tidings that a mere
handful of shipwrecked Spaniards were on the island, it was seriously
proposed to put them to death, when fortunately the vessel which had been
driven away returned, and it was later found that the other had ridden out
the storm uninjured. They speedily made sail for Spain, and arrived at
Palos in safety. Pinzon had as much as he could do to prevent the
merchants who had supplied goods for the voyage—at an advance of a hundred
per cent. or so—from seizing and selling the vessels and cargoes. But a
royal edict prevented this, and he was able to satisfy them in the end,
after incurring much loss to himself.

The Pinzon family were subsequently ennobled by the Emperor Charles V.
When Washington Irving visited Palos he found numerous branches of the
descendants enjoying excellent circumstances, and living in an almost
patriarchal manner.

In the year 1500, Rodrigo de Bastides, a wealthy Sevillian notary,
inflamed with the hopes of rapid wealth, fitted out two caravels, and
associated with him the veteran pilot, Juan de la Cosa, already mentioned.
The first honourably distinguished himself by his constant humanity to the
natives, and the voyage was successful, commercially speaking, for on the
South American coasts and islands they collected a very large amount of
gold and pearls, but an unforeseen misfortune arrived. They found their
vessels leaking most seriously, for their hulls had been pierced in
innumerable places by marine worms. It was with difficulty that they could
keep afloat until they reached an inlet on the coast of Hispaniola, where
they plugged and patched up their ships, and again put to sea for Cadiz.
Storm succeeded storm; the worms were again at work, and the leaks broke
out afresh. They were obliged to return to the inlet, where they landed
the most profitable and valuable parts of their cargoes, and the vessels
foundered with the remainder. Distributing his men into three bands, they
started for San Domingo by different routes, each party being provided
with trinkets and Indian trading goods. Francisco de Bobadilla, the enemy
and successor of Columbus, was then Governor of San Domingo. He believing,
or pretending to believe, that the adventurers were carrying on an illicit
trade with the natives, arrested Bastides and threw him into prison,
afterwards sending him for trial to Spain. He sailed in the same fleet in
which Bobadilla embarked for Spain, and which was for the most part
wrecked. The ship of Bastides was one of the few to outlive the storm; it
arrived at Cadiz in September, 1502. Bastides was, of course, acquitted of
the charges brought against him, and the voyage had been so lucrative
that, notwithstanding all losses, he was enabled to pay a handsome tribute
to the crown and retain a large amount for himself. Ferdinand and Isabella
granted Bastides and La Cosa an annual revenue for life, to be derived
from the proceeds of the province of Uraba, which he had discovered.
“Such,” says Irving, “was the economical generosity of King Ferdinand, who
rewarded the past toils of his adventurous discoverers out of the expected
produce of their future labours.” It is doubtful whether either at any
time derived benefit from these grants.

Alonzo de Ojeda had gained nothing by his first voyage, but had earned an
honourable reputation as an explorer. His patron the Bishop recommended
him in 1502 once more to the royal favour, and a grant was made to him of
a considerable tract of land in Hispaniola, and the government of the
province of Coquebacao, which territory he had discovered. Four vessels
were fitted out, and, to pass over minor details, reached a part of the
South American coast called by the natives Cumana, where the idea struck
Ojeda that he should want furniture and utensils for his new colony, “and
that it would be better to pillage them from a country where he was a mere
transient visitor, than to wrest them from his neighbours in the territory
where he was to set up his government.” This scheme was carried into
immediate execution, Ojeda ordering his men not to destroy the habitations
of the Indians, nor to commit bloodshed. His followers, however, did not
implicitly obey his instructions, and seven or eight natives were killed
and many more wounded in the skirmish which took place. Many of their
dwellings were fired. A large number of hammocks, quantities of cotton,
and utensils of various kinds, fell into the victors’ hands, and they
captured several females, some of whom were afterwards ransomed for gold,
and others carried off. The place was found destitute of provisions, and
Ojeda was forced to send one of his vessels to Jamaica for supplies.

Ojeda at length arrived at Coquibacao, landing at a bay supposed to be
that now known as Bahia Honda, where he found a Spaniard who had been
living among the natives some thirteen months, and had acquired their
language. Ojeda determined to form his settlement there, but the natives
seemed disposed to defend their country, for “the moment a party landed to
procure water they were assailed by a galling shower of arrows, and driven
back to the ships. Upon this Ojeda landed with all his force, and struck
such terror into the Indians that they came forward with signs of amity,
and brought a considerable quantity of gold as a peace-offering, which was
graciously accepted.” The construction of the fortress was at once
commenced, and although interrupted by the attack of a neighbouring
cacique, who was, however, easily defeated, Ojeda’s men completed it
speedily. It contained a magazine of provisions, dealt out twice a day,
and was defended by cannon. The treasure gained in trade, or by robbery,
was deposited in a strong box with double locks.

Meantime provisions were becoming scarce, while the vessel which had been
despatched to Jamaica for supplies did not appear. “The people, worn-out
with labours and privations of various kinds, and disgusted with the
situation of the settlement, which was in a poor and unhealthy country,
grew discontented and factious. They began to fear that they should lose
the means of departing, as their vessels were in danger of being destroyed
by the marine worms. Ojeda led them forth repeatedly upon foraging parties
about the adjacent country, and collected some provisions and booty in the
Indian villages. The provisions he deposited in the magazine, part of the
spoil he divided among his followers, and the gold he locked up in the
strong box, the keys of which he took possession of, to the great
displeasure of the supervisor and his associate Ocampo. The murmurs of the
people grew loud as their sufferings increased. They insinuated that Ojeda
had no authority over this part of the coast, having passed the boundaries
of his government, and formed his settlement in the country discovered by
Bastides. By the time Vergara arrived from Jamaica the factions of this
petty colony had risen to an alarming height. Ocampo had a personal enmity
to the governor, arising probably from some feud about the strong box; and
being a particular friend of Vergara, he held a private conference with
him, and laid a plan to entrap the doughty Ojeda. In pursuance of this the
latter was invited on board the caravel of Vergara, to see the provisions
he had brought from Jamaica; but no sooner was he on board than they
charged him with having transgressed the limits of his government, with
having provoked the hostility of the Indians, and needlessly sacrificed
the lives of his followers, and above all, with having taken possession of
the strong box, in contempt of the authority of the royal supervisor, and
with the intention of appropriating to himself all the gains of the
enterprise. They informed him, therefore, of their intention to convey him
a prisoner to Hispaniola, to answer to the governor for his offences.”
Ojeda was entrapped, and scarcely knew what to do. He proposed to Vergara
and Ocampo that they should return to Spain with such of the men as were
tired of the enterprise, and they at first agreed with this, and promised
to leave him the smallest of the vessels, and a third of the provisions
and spoils. They even engaged to build him a row boat before leaving, and
commenced the work; but the ship carpenters were invalids, and there were
no caulkers, and the two conspirators soon changed their minds, and
resolved to take him prisoner to Hispaniola. He was put in irons, and the
vessels set sail, having on board the whole of the little community, as
well as that strong box of gold and treasure, the disputed possession of
which was at the bottom of most of this trouble.

[Illustration: OJEDA’S ATTEMPTED ESCAPE.]

Arrived off the desired coast, Ojeda made a bold struggle for liberty. He
was a strong man and a good swimmer, so one night he let himself down
quietly into the sea, and made an attempt to reach the land. But, while
his arms were free, his feet were shackled with heavy iron, sufficient in
itself almost to sink him. He had not got far when he was obliged to shout
for help, and the unfortunate governor was brought back half drowned to
his unrelenting partners. They delivered him a prisoner into the hands of
the authorities, but held fast to the strong box, taking from it, Ojeda
afterwards stated, whatever they thought proper, without regard to the
royal supervisor or the royal rights. Ojeda was tried in the city of San
Domingo, where the chief judge gave a verdict against him, depriving him
of all his effects, and brought him in debt to the crown. He afterwards
appealed to the crown, and after some time was honourably acquitted by the
Royal Council, and his property ordered to be restored. “Like too many
other litigants,” says Irving, “he finally emerged from the labyrinths of
the law a triumphant client, but a ruined man.” Costs had swallowed his
all, and for years we know little of his life.

In 1508 he was in Hispaniola, “as poor in purse, though as proud in
spirit, as ever.” About this period there was a great excitement in Spain
concerning the gold mines of Veragua, first discovered by Columbus, and
described in glowing terms by subsequent voyagers. King Ferdinand should
in honour have given Bartholomew, the brother of Christopher Columbus, the
command of any expedition sent out to that country, but he appears to have
thought that the family had received reward enough, and more than enough,
already, so the claims of Ojeda were advanced by his friend the Bishop
Fonseca, and the king lent a favouring ear. There was, however, a rival
candidate in the field, one Diego de Nicuesa, an accomplished courtier of
noble birth and considerable means, and the king compromised matters by
granting both equal “patents and dignities which cost nothing, and might
bring rich returns.” He divided the territory they were to explore
equally; and this is all, for they were to furnish their own ships and
supplies. Poor Ojeda had no means whatever, but at this juncture he
fortunately met the veteran Juan de la Cosa in Hispaniola, and that hardy
old navigator had managed to fill his purse in the course of his cruising.
La Cosa had, as we know, sailed with Ojeda long before, and had a great
admiration of his courage and talents, so in the spirit of a true sailor
he now offered assistance to his old comrade, and it was arranged that he
should go to Spain, and if necessary should fit out the required vessels
at his own expense.

Juan de la Cosa, soon after reaching Spain, was appointed lieutenant,
under Ojeda, and he thereupon freighted a ship and two brigantines, in
which he embarked with about two hundred men. “It was,” says Irving, “a
slender armament, but the purse of the honest voyager was not very deep,
and that of Ojeda was empty.” Nicuesa was able to start in much more
gallant style, with four large vessels and two brigantines.

The rival armaments arrived at San Domingo at about the same time, Nicuesa
having done a stroke of business on the way by capturing a hundred natives
from one of the Caribbee Islands. “This was deemed justifiable in those
days even by the most scrupulous divines, from the belief that the Caribs
were anthropophagi, or man-eaters; fortunately the opinion of mankind in
this more enlightened age makes but little difference in atrocity between
the cannibal and the kidnapper.” It need hardly be said that Ojeda was
overjoyed at the sight of his old comrade, although he was mortified to
note the superiority of Nicuesa’s armament to his own. He, however,
looking about him for the means of increasing his strength, was so far
fortunate that he succeeded in inducing a lawyer, the Bachelor Martin
Fernandez de Enciso, who had saved two thousand castillanos (somewhat over
the same number of pounds sterling), to invest his money in the
enterprise. Ojeda promised to make him Alcalde Mayor, or Chief Judge, and
the prospect of such dignity dazzled the notary. It was arranged that the
latter should remain in Hispaniola to beat up recruits and supplies, and
with them he was to follow in a ship purchased by himself.

“Two rival governors,” says Irving, “so well matched as Ojeda and Nicuesa,
and both possessed of swelling spirits, pent up in small but active
bodies, could not remain long in a little place like San Domingo without
some collision. The island of Jamaica, which had been assigned to them in
common, furnished the first ground of contention; the province of Darien
furnished another, each pretending to include it within the limits of his
jurisdiction. Their disputes on these points ran so high that the whole
place resounded with them.” Nicuesa was the better talker, having been
brought up at court, while Ojeda was no great casuist. He was, however, an
excellent swordsman, and always ready to fight his way through any
question of right or dignity, and he challenged Nicuesa to single combat.
Nicuesa was no coward, but as a man of the world, saw the folly of such a
proceeding, so he slyly proposed that they should each deposit five
thousand castillanos—just to make the fight interesting—and to constitute
a prize for the winner. This rather checked poor Ojeda, who had not a
dollar he could call his own; but his cool and discreet friend Cosa had a
considerable amount of trouble with him afterwards, before he could bring
him to reason. The character of Cosa, as we shall see hereafter, was a
very noble one. He was Ojeda’s best counseller and truest friend.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE COMPANIONS AND FOLLOWERS OF COLUMBUS (_concluded_).

Nicuesa and the Duns of San Domingo—Indian Contempt for a Royal
Manifesto—La Cosa’s Advice Disregarded—Ojeda’s Impetuosity—A
Desperate Fight—Seventy Spaniards Killed—La Cosa’s Untimely
End—Ojeda found Exhausted in the Woods—A Rival’s Noble
Conduct—Avenged on the Indians—A New Settlement—Ojeda’s Charm
fails—A Desperate Remedy—In Search of Provisions—Wrecked on Cuba—A
Toilsome March—Kindly Natives—Ojeda’s Vow Redeemed—Dies in Abject
Poverty—The Bachelor Enciso and Balboa—Smuggled on Board in a
Tub—Leon and his Search for the Fountain of Youth—Discovery of
Florida—Magellan—Snubbed at Home—Warmly seconded by the Spanish
Emperor—His resolute Character—Discovery of the Straits—His
Death—The First Voyage round the World—Captain Cook’s
Discoveries—His Tragical Death—Vancouver’s Island.

Nicuesa remained some time in San Domingo after the sailing of his rival’s
fleet, obtaining so many volunteers that he had to purchase another ship
to convey them. That commander was much more the courtier than the man of
business, and expended his money so freely that in the end he found
himself seriously involved. Some of his creditors, knowing that his
expedition was not favourably regarded by the governor, Admiral Don Diego
Columbus, threw every obstacle in the way of his departure, and never was
an unfortunate debtor more harassed by duns, most of whom he managed,
however, to satisfy or mollify. His forces, which now numbered seven
hundred men, were safely embarked, but just as he was stepping into his
boat he was arrested for a debt of five hundred ducats, and carried before
the Alcalde Mayor. “This was a thunderstroke to the unfortunate cavalier.
In vain he represented his utter incapacity to furnish such a sum at the
moment; in vain he represented the ruin that would accrue to himself, and
the vast injury to the public service, should he be prevented from joining
his expedition. The Alcalde Mayor was inflexible, and Nicuesa was reduced
to despair. At this critical moment relief came from a most unexpected
quarter. The heart of a public notary was melted by his distress! He
stepped forward in court, and declared that rather than see so gallant a
gentleman reduced to extremity, he himself would pay down the money.
Nicuesa gazed at him with astonishment, and could scarce believe his
senses; but when he saw him actually pay off the debt, and found himself
suddenly released from this dreadful embarrassment, he embraced his
deliverer with tears of gratitude, and hastened with all speed to embark,
lest some other legal spell should be laid upon his person.”

Ojeda set sail from San Domingo on the 10th of November, 1509, with three
hundred men, among the adventurers being Francisco Pizarro, afterwards the
renowned conqueror of Peru. They arrived speedily at Carthagena, which
harbour Cosa advised Ojeda to abandon, and commence a settlement in the
Gulf of Uraba, where the natives were much less ferocious, and did not use
poisoned weapons, as did those of the former place. Ojeda, however, was
too high-spirited to alter his plans on account of any number of naked
savages, and he landed with a considerable force, and several friars, who
had been sent out to convert the natives, were ordered to read aloud a
manifesto, which had been specially written by eminent divines and jurists
in Spain. It was utterly thrown away on the savages, who immediately made
demonstrations of the most warlike kind.

Cosa once more begged Ojeda to leave these unfriendly shores, but in vain,
and the latter, offering up a short prayer to the Virgin, led on a furious
charge. Juan de Cosa followed in the bravest manner, although the assault
was contrary to his advice. The Indians were soon driven off, and a number
killed or taken prisoners, on whose persons plates of gold were found.
Flushed by this easy victory, he pursued them into the interior, followed
as usual by his faithful, though unwilling lieutenant. Having penetrated
deep into the forest, they came to a stronghold of the enemy, where they
were warmly received. Ojeda led his men on with the old Castilian war-cry,
“Santiago!” and in a few minutes the Indians took to flight. “Eight of
their bravest warriors threw themselves into a cabin, and plied their bows
and arrows so vigorously that the Spaniards were kept at bay. Ojeda cried
shame upon his followers to be daunted by eight naked men. Stung by this
reproach, an old Castilian soldier rushed through a shower of arrows and
forced the door of the cabin, but received a shaft through the heart and
fell dead on the threshold. Ojeda, furious at the sight, ordered fire to
be set to the combustible edifice; in a moment it was in a blaze, and the
eight warriors perished in the flames.” Seventy prisoners were sent on
board the ships. Ojeda, still against the strongly-expressed advice of
Cosa, continued his pursuit, and he and his followers arrived at what
appeared to be a deserted village. They had scattered in search of booty,
when troops of savages, who had been concealed in the forest, surrounded
them. The desperate valour and iron armour of the Spaniards availed
little, for they were overwhelmed by numbers, and scattered into detached
parties. Ojeda collected a few of his followers, and made a desperate
resistance from the interior of a palisaded enclosure. “Here he was
closely besieged and galled by flights of arrows. He threw himself on his
knees, covered himself with his buckler, and being small and active,
managed to protect himself from the deadly shower, but all his companions
were slain by his side, some of them perishing in frightful agonies. At
this fearful moment the veteran La Cosa, having heard of the peril of his
commander, arrived with a few followers to his assistance. Stationing
himself at the gate of the palisades, the brave Biscayan kept the savages
at bay until most of his men were slain, and he himself was severely
wounded. Just then Ojeda sprang forth like a tiger into the midst of the
enemy, dealing his blows on every side. La Cosa would have seconded him,
but was crippled by his wounds. He took refuge with the remnant of his men
in an Indian cabin, the straw roof of which he aided them to throw off,
lest the enemy should set it on fire. Here he defended himself until all
his comrades but one were destroyed. The subtle poison of his wounds at
length overpowered him, and he sank to the ground. Feeling death at hand,
he called to his only surviving companion. ‘Brother,’ said he, ‘since God
hath protected thee from harm, sally forth and fly, and if thou shouldst
see Alonzo de Ojeda, tell him of my fate!’” Thus perished one of the
ablest of the Spanish explorers, and one of the most loyal of friends, a
true counsellor, and a warm-hearted partisan.

[Illustration: THE DEATH OF LA COSA.]

Meanwhile there was great alarm on the ships at the non-arrival of the
seventy men who had adventured into the forests on this mad expedition.
Parties were sent ashore and round the coasts, where they fired signal
guns and sounded trumpets, but in vain. At length some of them arrived at
a great thicket of mangrove trees, amid the entanglements of which they
caught a glimpse of a man in Spanish attire. Approaching, they found that
it was their commander, buckler on shoulder and sword in hand, but so weak
with hunger and fatigue that he could not utter a word. When he was a
little revived by the fire they made on the shore, and the food and wine
they gave him, he told the story of how he had escaped from the savage
bands, how he had hidden every day, and struggled forward at night among
rocks and thickets and matted forests till he reached the coast. As
another proof of the special protection of the Virgin he showed them his
buckler bearing the marks of 300 arrows, while he had received no wound
whatever.

Just as this transpired, the fleet of Nicuesa arrived, and Ojeda was much
troubled in mind, remembering his late rash challenge. He ordered his men
to return to the ships, and leave him on the shore till his rival should
depart. Some of the men went to Nicuesa and intreated him not to take
advantage of Ojeda’s misfortunes. But there was no need for this, and
Nicuesa blushed with indignation that they should think him a gentleman so
unworthy the name. He told them to bring their commander to him, and when
they met he received his late foe with every show of friendship. “It is
not,” said he, “for hidalgoes, like men of vulgar souls, to remember past
differences when they behold one another in distress. Henceforth, let all
that has occurred between us be forgotten. Command me as a brother. Myself
and my men are at your orders, to follow you wherever you please, until
the deaths of Juan de la Cosa and his comrades are revenged.” This noble
offer was not one of words only, and the two commanders became fast
friends. Four hundred men, with several horses, were landed, and they
approached the village, which had cost them seventy lives, in the dead of
the night, their near approach being heralded by the numerous parrots in
the woods, which made a great outcry. The Indians paid no attention,
however, believing that the Spaniards had been exterminated, and they
found their village in flames before they took the alarm. The Spaniards
either killed them at their doors or drove them back into the flames. The
horses, which they supposed to be savage monsters, caused great alarm. The
carnage was something fearful, for no quarter was given. While ranging
about in search of booty they found the body of La Cosa tied to a tree,
swollen and discoloured in a hideous manner by the poison of the Indian
arrows. “This dismal spectacle had such an effect upon the common men that
not one would remain in that place during the night.” The spoil in gold
and other valuables was so great that the share of Nicuesa and his men
amounted to 37,281 dollars.

[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF OJEDA AND HIS FOLLOWERS AT THE INDIAN VILLAGE.]

Ojeda now, somewhat late in the day, took the advice of his late faithful
lieutenant, and steered for the Gulf of Uraba, where he formed a
settlement which he named St. Sebastian. The Indians of the surrounding
country proved unfriendly and hostile, and at length their provisions
began to fail. “In one of their expeditions they were surprised by an
ambuscade of savages in a gorge of the mountains, and attacked with such
fury and effect that they were completely routed, and pursued with yells
and howlings to the very gates of St. Sebastian. Many died in excruciating
agony of their wounds, and others recovered with extreme difficulty. Those
who were well no longer dared to venture forth in search of food, for the
whole forest teemed with lurking foes. They devoured such herbs and roots
as they could find without regard to their quality. Their bodies became
corrupted, and various diseases, combined with the ravages of famine,
daily thinned their numbers. The sentinel who feebly mounted guard at
night was often found dead at his post in the morning. Some stretched
themselves on the ground, and expired of mere famine and debility; nor was
death any longer regarded as an evil, but rather as a welcome relief from
a life of horror and despair.” Such is the chronicler’s mournful account.

We have seen that Ojeda felt unbounded confidence in his charm—the picture
of the Holy Virgin—and he had so long escaped unscathed that the Indians
also believed him to bear a charmed life. They determined one day to test
the question, and placed four of their most expert archers in ambush, with
directions to single him out, while a number more advanced to the fort
sounding their conches and drums, and yelling with hideous noises. Ojeda
sallied forth to meet them, and the Indians fled to the ambuscade. The
archers waited till he was full in front, and then discharged their
poisoned arrows. Three he warded off by his buckler, but the fourth
pierced his thigh. Ojeda was carried back to the fort, more despondent
than he had ever yet been, for his talisman seemed to have failed him, and
thrilling pains shot through his body. But he was not to be thus defeated.
He caused two plates of iron to be made red hot, and ordered a surgeon to
apply them to each orifice of his wound. The surgeon, fearful that should
he die the death would be laid to his door, shudderingly refused,
whereupon Ojeda threatened to hang him if he did not obey, and he was
obliged to comply. Ojeda refused to be held or tied down, and endured the
agony without moving a muscle. This violent remedy so inflamed his system
that he had to be wrapped in sheets steeped in vinegar to allay the fever,
and it is said that a barrel of vinegar was consumed in this way. But he
lived, and his wounds healed; “the cold poison,” says Las Casas, “was
consumed by the vivid fire.”

At this time their provisions were again becoming scarce, and the arrival
of a strange ship, commanded by one Bernardino de Talavera, a desperate
pirate, was welcomed, as it brought some relief, although supplies were
only furnished for large prices in gold. Some dissatisfaction was
expressed at the division of the food, and shortly afterwards serious
factions arose. At last Ojeda volunteered to go himself to San Domingo in
quest of necessary supplies, to which his followers agreed, and he
embarked on board Talavera’s ship. They had scarcely put to sea when a
serious quarrel arose between the freebooter and Ojeda; the latter,
apparently, having acted on board as though he were commander instead of
passenger. He was actually put in irons, where “he reviled Talavera and
his gang as recreants, traitors, pirates, and offered to fight the whole
of them successively, provided they would give him a clear deck and come
on two at a time.” They left him fuming and raging in his chains until a
violent gale arose, and they bethought themselves that Ojeda was a skilful
navigator. They then parleyed, offering him his liberty if he would pilot
the ship, and he consented, but all his skill was unavailing, and he was
obliged to run her on the southern coast of Cuba—then as yet uncolonised,
except by runaway slaves from Hayti. Here they made a toilsome march
through forests and morasses, crossing mountains and rivers, in a nearly
starved condition. One morass, entangled by roots and creeping vines, and
cut up by sloughs and creeks, occupied them thirty days to cross, at the
end of which time only thirty-five men survived out of seventy that had
left the ship. At last they reached an Indian village. “The Indians
gathered round and gazed at them with wonder, but when they learnt their
story, they exhibited a humanity that would have done honour to the most
professing Christians. They bore them to their dwellings, set meat and
drink before them, and vied with each other in discharging the offices of
the kindest humanity. Finding that a number of their companions were still
in the morass, the cacique sent a large party of Indians with provisions
for their relief, with orders to bring on their shoulders such as were too
feeble to walk.... The Spaniards were brought to the village, succoured,
cherished, consoled, and almost worshipped as if they had been angels.”
And now Ojeda prepared to carry out a vow he had made on his journey, that
if saved, he would erect a little hermitage or oratory, with an altar,
above which he would place the picture to which he attributed his
wonderful escape. The cacique listened with attention to his explanations
regarding the beneficence of the Virgin, whom he represented as the mother
of the Deity who reigned above, and acquired a profound veneration for the
picture. Long after, when the Bishop Las Casas, who has recorded these
facts, arrived at the same village, he found the chapel preserved with
religious care. But when he offered—wishing to obtain possession of the
relic—to exchange it for an image of the Virgin, the chief made an evasive
reply, and next morning was missing, having fled with the picture in his
possession. It was all in vain that Las Casas sent messages after him,
“assuring him that he should not be deprived of the relic, but, on the
contrary, that the image should likewise be presented to him.” The cacique
would not return to the village till he knew that the Spaniards had
departed.

We find Ojeda next in Jamaica, and afterwards in San Domingo, where he
inquired earnestly after the Bachelor Enciso, who had, it will be
remembered, promised to aid him with reinforcements and supplies. He was
assured that that ambitious lawyer had sailed for the settlement, which
was a fact. Next we find the sanguine Ojeda endeavouring to set on foot
another armament, but the failure of his colony was too well understood,
and there were no more volunteers, either as regards personal service or
pecuniary aid. The poor adventurer was destined never again to see his
settlement, the subsequent history of which is a series of intrigues and
disasters. He died in abject poverty in San Domingo, and “so broken in
spirit that, with his last breath, he intreated his body might be buried
in the monastery of St. Francisco, just at the portal, in humble expiation
of his past pride, _that every one who entered might tread upon his
grave_.” Nicuesa, after many vicissitudes, was lost at sea. The Bachelor
Enciso was rather snubbed when he arrived at Ojeda’s colony, but made some
fortunate ventures, and plundered a village on the banks of a river named
Darien, collecting great quantities of gold ornaments, bracelets, anklets,
plates, and what not, with food and cotton to the value of ten thousand
castillanos, or about ten thousand seven hundred pounds sterling. Among
the men who for a time served with Enciso was Vasco Nuñez de Balbao,
afterwards the discoverer of the Pacific from the Isthmus of Darien, of
whom these pages have already furnished some account. He joined the
expedition of Enciso in a very curious manner. He had been a man of very
loose and prodigal habits, but had settled down on a farm in Hispaniola,
where he soon became hopelessly involved in debt. The proposed armament
gave him the opportunity he sought of running away from his creditors. He
concealed himself in a cask, which was taken on board the vessel as though
containing provisions. When the vessel was fairly out at sea “Nuñez
emerged like an apparition from his cask, to the great surprise of Enciso,
who had been totally ignorant of the stratagem. The Bachelor was indignant
at being thus outwitted, even though he gained a recruit by the deception,
and, in the first ebullition of his wrath, gave the fugitive debtor a very
rough reception, threatening to put him on shore on the first uninhabited
island they should encounter. Vasco Nuñez, however, succeeded in pacifying
him, ‘for God,’ says the venerable Las Casas, ‘reserved him for greater
things.’” It was Nuñez who afterwards directed Enciso to the village where
he obtained so much plunder.

Another remarkable man of that age was Juan Ponce de Leon, the conqueror
of Porto Rico, and the discoverer of Florida. He had amassed a
considerable amount of wealth in the former place, and, like many of the
active discoverers of that energetic age, was ambitious for new triumphs.
By accident he met with some Indians who assured him “that far to the
north, there existed a land abounding in gold and in all manner of
delights; but, above all, possessing a river of such wonderful virtue,
that whoever bathed in it would be restored to youth! They added that in
times past, before the arrival of the Spaniards, a large party of the
natives of Cuba had departed northward in search of this happy land and
this river of life, and, having never returned, it was concluded that they
were flourishing in renewed youth, detained by the pleasures of that
enchanting country.” Others told him that in a certain island of the
Bahamas, called Bimini, there was a fountain possessing the same
marvellous and inestimable qualities, and that whoever drank from it would
secure perennial youth. Juan Ponce listened to these fables with
credulity, and actually fitted out three vessels at his own expense to
prosecute the discovery, and obtained numerous volunteers to assist him.
“It may seem incredible,” says Irving, “at the present day, that a man of
years and experience could yield any faith to a story which resembles the
wild fiction of an Arabian tale; but the wonders and novelties breaking
upon the world in that age of discovery almost realised the illusions of
fable, and the imaginations of the Spanish voyagers had become so heated
that they were capable of any stretch of credulity.” A similar statement
was made by an eminent man of learning, Peter Martyr, to Leo X., then
Bishop of Rome. Juan Ponce left Porto Rico on the 3rd March, 1512, for the
Bahama Islands, on his search for the Fountain of Youth, but all his
inquiries and explorations failed in its discovery. Still he persevered,
and was rewarded in discovering on the mainland a country in the fresh
bloom of spring, the trees gay with blossoms and abounding with flowers.
He took possession of it in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, and gave
it the name of Florida, which it still retains. He subsequently discovered
a group of islands, where his sailors, in the course of one night, caught
one hundred and seventy turtles. He appropriately named them the Tortugas,
or Turtles, the title they also still bear. Disheartened by the failure of
his special mission, he gave up the command to a trusty captain, and
returned to Porto Rico, “where he arrived infinitely poorer in purse and
wrinkled in brow, by this cruise after inexhaustible riches and perpetual
youth.” His captain arrived soon after with the news that he had
discovered the island of Bimini, and that it abounded in crystal springs
and limpid streams, which kept the island ever fresh and verdant; “but
none that could restore to an old man the vernal greenness of his youth.”
As late as 1521 we find old Juan Ponce engaged in a new expedition to
Florida, where, in an encounter with the Indians, he was fatally wounded
by an arrow. He retired to Cuba, where he died shortly afterwards. The
Spaniards said of him that he was a lion by name, and still more by
nature.

The name of Magellan, or Magalhaens, is more familiar to the general
reader than some of those which have preceded it in this chapter. He was a
Portuguese of noble birth, and had served honourably in India. When he
made the offer of his services to his own sovereign, there is no doubt
that the undertaking he proposed—viz., to determine the question whether
the shores of South America were washed by an open sea—had been mooted
before. To him however, belongs the credit of having brought that question
to an issue. His own king would have nought to do with his project, and
dismissed him with a frown. Magellan, accompanied by Ruy Falero, an
astrologer (the astrologers were in part the astronomers of those days),
who was associated with him in the enterprise, next made his proposals to
the Spanish Emperor, Charles V., by whom he was received with attention
and respect. Articles of agreement were drawn up, to this effect: the
navigator agreed to reach the Moluccas _by sailing to the west_; they were
to enjoy for ten years the exclusive right to the track (!), and to
receive the twentieth part of all profits accruing from their discoveries,
with some special privileges in regard to the merchandise of the first
voyage. Moreover, the Emperor agreed to furnish five vessels, and victual
them for two years—an unusual act of liberality in those days, when the
monarchs usually contented themselves with conferring patents, privileges,
and titles merely, which cost them nothing, and yet were often the means
of subsequently enriching them. The sailing of the expedition was retarded
by the machinations of the Portuguese king, who now professed a
willingness to employ Magellan, and, failing in this, is said to have
spread reports that “the King of Spain would lose his expenses, for
Fernando Magellan was a chattering fellow, and little reliance could be
placed in him, and that he would never execute that which he promised.”
But at last, on the 20th September, 1519, the squadron got under weigh.

In the month of December following Magellan anchored in a port on the
coast of Brazil, which he named Santa Lucia. The natives appeared a
confiding and credulous race, and readily bartered provisions for the
merest trifles; “half a dozen fowls were exchanged for a king of spades”
(card). Putting again to sea, Magellan sailed southward, touching at
various points till he came to anchor in a harbour which he named San
Julian, and where he made a stay of five months. Here discontent, and at
length open mutiny, broke out, the ringleaders being certain Spanish
officers who felt mortified at serving under a Portuguese commander.
Magellan was not a man to stand any nonsense, and was utterly
unscrupulous. He despatched a person with a letter to one of the captains,
with orders to stab him whilst he was engaged in reading it. This
commission being rigorously executed, and followed up by other stringent
measures, his authority was re-established through the mutineers’
knowledge and fear of his determined character.

In October of the next year, after various minor discoveries, he arrived
at the entrance of the great strait which now bears his name. After
careful examination of the opening, a council was held, at which the
pilot, Estevan Gomez, voted for returning to refit, while the more
enterprising wished to complete their discovery. Magellan listened
patiently and silently, and then firmly declared that were he reduced to
eat the hides on the yards—which were, in fact, the sails—he would keep
his faith with the Emperor. It was forbidden to speak of home or scarcity
of provisions on pain of death!

Two vessels were sent to reconnoitre in advance, and these were driven
violently by a gale into the straits, where the two coasts more than once
seemed to join, and the mariners thought all was lost, when a narrow
channel would disclose itself, into which they would gladly enter. They
returned, and made their report to Magellan, who ordered the whole
squadron to advance. On reaching the open expanse of water into which the
second gut opens, an inlet to the south-east was observed, and Estevan
Gomez was sent in charge of one of two vessels to explore it. He took the
opportunity to incite a mutiny, threw the captain into chains, and steered
back for Spain. When the western or Pacific end of the straits was
reached,(53) and they saw a grand open ocean beyond, they named the
headland at the entrance, Il Capo Descado—the “Longed-for Cape”—and spent
some days in erecting standards in conspicuous places, and in rejoicing
over their discovery. On the 28th November, 1520, the small squadron
reached the open sea, and took a northerly course towards the equator, in
order to reach a milder climate, the sailors having suffered much in and
about the straits.

[Illustration: FERDINAND DE MAGELLAN.]

Magellan, besides minor discoveries, is fairly credited with that of the
Philippine Islands, where he was treated in a most friendly manner. At
Zebu he acted after the manner of his time; for, finding the people
submissive and respectful, he exacted a tribute, which seems to have been
willingly paid. One king, or chief, alone refused, which so incensed
Magellan that he resolved to punish him. He accordingly landed with
forty-nine of his followers, clothed in mail, and began an attack on 1,500
Indians. The battle raged some hours, but at last numbers prevailed, and
only some seven or eight Spaniards remained with Magellan, the rest being
either already killed or utterly routed. He himself was wounded in the
limbs by a poisoned arrow, and his sword-arm being disabled he could no
longer defend himself, and so fell a martyr to overweening ambition and
greed. The voyage home was completed, and those of his men who remained
had achieved the proud distinction of having been the first
circumnavigators of the globe.

Before leaving the subject of remarkable voyages, a few supplementary
remarks are necessary. The great epoch just mentioned was followed by
great commercial activity, owing to the important discoveries of new lands
made, and, of course, the map of the world was by degrees filled in with
details which earlier explorers had overlooked. In some previous chapters,
notably those referring to the history of shipping and shipping interests,
many of the more important voyages following those just described have
been sufficiently noticed. In effect, the many subjects treated in
connection with THE SEA naturally intertwine, and the same voyages are in
the course of this work occasionally mentioned more than once, though in
different ways, and for different reasons.

No explorer’s name, after those recently considered, shines with more
effulgency than that of the celebrated Captain Cook, already mentioned in
two separate connections. Born in 1728, the son of an agricultural
labourer and farm bailiff, he early showed an irresistible inclination for
the sea, and could not be chained down to the haberdasher’s counter, for
which his father had destined him. He commenced his seafaring life as an
apprentice on a collier, but soon rose to be mate. He next entered the
royal navy, where, from able seaman, his promotion was rapid. Some charts
and observations drawn up by him while marine surveyor of the coasts of
Newfoundland and Labrador brought him much notice from scientific
quarters, and the Royal Society offered him the command of an expedition
to the Pacific, to make an observation of the transit of Venus. This was
the first of his three great voyages, during which he re-discovered New
Zealand,(54) practically took possession of Australia, proved that New
Guinea was a separate island, made discoveries in the Antarctic,
discovered the Sandwich Islands, and made the northern explorations also
mentioned previously. He met his death on the island of Hawaii (Sandwich
Islands), in the tragical manner known almost to every schoolboy.

It would appear that, previous to the fatal day, there had been some
little trouble with the natives. One day, the officer who had commanded a
watering-party returned to the ship, stating that some chief had driven
away the natives employed in rolling the casks to the beach, work which
had been gladly performed before for trifling payments. A marine, with
side-arms only, was sent back with him, when it was noticed that the
islanders were arming with stones, and two others with loaded muskets were
sent off to the watering party’s assistance, which for the moment quieted
the matter. Captain Cook gave orders that, if the natives should venture
to attack his men, they should in the future fire on them with balls,
instead of small shot, as hitherto. And not long after a volley proceeding
from the _Discovery_, fired after a retreating canoe, announced that his
orders were being carried into execution. Ignorant that some stolen goods
were thereupon returned, Cook himself, with an officer and a marine,
chased these natives on shore, but fruitlessly. Meantime, the officer who
had recovered the stolen goods, thinking that he might retaliate, took
possession of a canoe on the beach, which act the owner naturally
resented, and a scuffle ensued, during which he was knocked down by a blow
from an oar. The natives returned the attack with a shower of stones, and
would have destroyed the pinnace but for the interference of the very man
who had just been knocked on the head, who was, however, still friendly
inclined towards the English.

Captain Cook was naturally annoyed at and perplexed by these occurrences.
In the course of the next night a boat was stolen from the _Discovery_,
and Cook at once ordered a body of marines ashore, going with them
himself, and taking a double-barrelled gun, one barrel loaded with small
shot, and the other with a bullet. The other boats were ordered out to
prevent any canoe from leaving the bay until the matter was settled.
Arrived ashore, he marched up to the old king, who to every appearance had
had no hand in the theft, nor had connived at it, for he promised to go on
board with the captain, the latter intending to keep him as a hostage. The
chief’s two sons were already in the pinnace, when his wife entreated him
with tears not to go off to the ship. Two chiefs also, at this juncture,
forcibly laid hold of the old man, and made him sit down on the beach.
Cook saw from the general aspect of affairs, and the gathering thousands
on the beach, that he must give up his idea, and proceeded slowly to the
place of embarkation.

It appears that, while this was going on, some of the men on the boats
stationed around the bay had fired on some escaping canoes, and worse, had
killed a chief. The news arrived ashore just as Cook was leaving, and the
natives immediately began to put on their war-mats, and arm themselves.
One of them, carrying an iron dagger, which he brandished wildly,
threatened Cook with a large stone, and the captain at last could stand
his insolence no longer, and gave him a volley of small shot. This against
the native’s thick war-mat was about as effective as shooting peas against
a rhinoceros. Next came a volley of stones in return, while an attempt was
made to stab a marine officer, who returned a heavy blow from the butt-end
of his musket. A native crawled behind a canoe, and then aimed a spear at
Cook, who soon gave them the contents of his other barrel, killing one of
the assailants. In quick succession, volleys of stones were answered by a
volley of musketry; four marines fell, and were speedily despatched. Cook
now stood by the water’s edge, signalling the men to stop firing and get
on board; but in the scuffle and confusion his orders were not understood.
A lieutenant commanding one of the boats blundered, or worse, to the
extent of taking his boat further off, so that the picking up of the
wounded marines was thrown entirely on the pinnace, which had been brought
in as near the shore as the master was able to come. Poor Cook was left
alone on a rock, where he was seen trying to shield his head from the
shower of stones with the one hand, while he still grasped his musket in
the other. So soon as his back was turned, the natives attacked him, one
clubbing him down, and another stabbing him in the neck. Again he dropped
in the water knee-deep, looking earnestly out for help from the pinnace,
not more than a few yards off. But the end was near. The savages got him
under in deeper water. In his death-struggle he broke from them, and clung
to the rock. In a second there was another blow, and the end had come. His
body was dragged ashore and mutilated. After the fall of their commander,
the survivors of the men escaped under cover of a fire kept up from the
boats. But for Cook himself, one of the most humane of commanders, nothing
seems to have been attempted in the hurry and excitement of the scuffle.

Cook’s body—or as much as remained of it—was subsequently recovered, and
committed to the deep, the guns booming solemnly over the watery grave of
one of England’s greatest explorers. While the rites were being performed,
absolute unbroken silence was enjoined upon the natives ashore and afloat,
nor was the water disturbed by the dip of a single paddle. Thus perished,
at the early age of fifty-one, in a miserable scuffle with semi-savages,
Captain James Cook, a navigator whose fame was and still remains
world-wide.

Our space will only permit us to refer, briefly, to one other notable
voyage, namely, that of Vancouver, whose first experiences were gained
with Cook. The fame of this explorer rests very much upon his
circumnavigation, towards the end of the eighteenth century, of the island
which now bears his name. The actual discovery of the entrance to the
straits between the island and mainland dates from the time of De Fuca;
while Vancouver himself, in the following passage, admits a prior claim to
its partial investigation. He says—“At four o’clock a sail was discovered
to the westward standing in shore. This was a very great novelty, not
having seen any vessel but our consort during the last eight months. She
soon hoisted American colours, and fired a gun to leeward. At six we spoke
her. She proved to be the ship _Columbia_, commanded by Mr. Robert Gray,
belonging to Boston, from which port she had been absent nineteen months.
Having little doubt of his being the same person who had formerly
commanded the sloop _Washington_, I desired he would bring to, and sent
Mr. Puget and Mr. Menzies on board to acquire such information as might be
serviceable in our future operations.”

On the return of the boat, Vancouver found that his conjectures had not
been ungrounded, and that Mr. Gray was the same gentleman who had
commanded the sloop _Washington_ at the time she had made a voyage behind
the island. It was a little remarkable that on his approach to the
entrance of this inland sea or strait, he should fall in with the
identical person who, it had been stated, had sailed through it. Mr. Gray
assured the officers, however, that he had penetrated only fifty miles
into the straits in question in an ESE. direction; that he found the
passage five leagues wide; and that he understood from the natives that
the opening extended a considerable distance to the northward. He then
returned to the ocean the same way he had entered it. This inlet he
supposed to be the same De Fuca had discovered. The fact, however, remains
that Vancouver most thoroughly explored the coasts of the island, and the
inlets and shores of Puget Sound, Washington Territory, and British
Columbia—countries which are slowly but surely taking their proper place
in the world’s estimation.

END OF VOLUME III.

FOOTNOTES

1 “The History of the Bucaniers of America.” This once celebrated work
contains a number of the most reliable histories of the pirates and
freebooters of the seventeenth century.

2 The “piece of eight” means in value, as nearly as possible, the
American dollar of to-day.

3 This is the chronicler’s statement. He meant the _cacao_-nut.

_ 4 i.e._, “Spiked,” as we say now-a-days.

5 Wherever “religious men and women” are mentioned in these old
records, the meaning is priests or monks, and nuns.

6 The city site was almost immediately afterwards moved to a spot,
four miles off, where the present Panama stands to-day.

7 The account is derived from a French source, and although in all
probability veracious in most points, cannot be implicitly believed.
For this reason the author has not gone further into the most
romantic story of this high-principled pirate. Misson is said to
have later gone down with his vessel, while Caraccioli was killed in
an affray with natives.

8 The best known of which is “The Pilot,” in which he is the prominent
character.

9 Few readers will need reminding that the same Dr. Franklin was the
celebrated philosopher.

10 The narrative is derived from one of two most graphic letters by the
author of “The Military Sketch-book.”

11 “Heroes of the Arctic.” Society for the Promotion of Christian
Knowledge.

12 These papers, with others, were published in a small work bearing
the title, “The Possibility of Approaching the North Pole Asserted,
&c.”

_ 13 De_-lighted—_i.e._, deprived of light.

14 “Under the Northern Lights.” By J. A. MacGahan.

15 The entertainments were, we are informed by Captain Markham, termed
the Thursday “Pops,” and popular they most undoubtedly were.

16 Few readers will need to be reminded that on the Fahrenheit
thermometer commonly used in England zero is expressed by 0, and
that the freezing point of water is plus (+) 32°, or 32° above zero.
The above temperatures are all minus (-), or below zero. Without
remembering these facts, one can hardly appreciate the intense and
almost unparalleled cold experienced by the late expedition.

17 “Journals and Proceedings of the Arctic Expedition, 1875-6,” &c.
(printed as a Parliamentary Blue-book).

18 Mercury frequently froze during the writer’s stay on the Yukon, and
other parts of Northern Alaska, in the winter of 1866-7. On one
occasion the thermometer registered 58° below zero (90° below the
freezing point of water).

19 The recently-reported exploit of Professor Nordenskjold, of which we
have at present the barest outlines, does not properly come under
this category. It was in reality a successful voyage by the
north-west passage, and must eventually find its place in these
pages.

20 Sir John Barrow: “Chronological History of Voyages into the Arctic
Regions.”

21 The full name of this navigator is Willem zoon Barents, or Barentz,
_i.e._, William, the son of Barents. The abbreviated form, however,
has always been adopted of late.

22 Introduction to the Hakluyt Society’s edition of these voyages.

23 A Dutch proverb, used when an undertaking turns out badly. The dog
stole a sausage, and got well whipped for his pains.

24 “Discoveries East of Spitzbergen,” &c. Paper read before the Royal
Geographical Society by C. R. Markham, Esq., C.B., F.R.S., February
10th, 1873.

25 A cubical or rectangular mass of ice will, floating in the sea, have
about six times the depth under water that it has height above. But
it will be evident that this will not apply to irregular-shaped
masses, which may have very solid bases, rising above in lighter
pinnacles or other fantastic forms. The brother of the writer has
seen on the Greenland coast icebergs 90 to 100 feet out of the
water, _grounded_ at 100 fathoms (600 feet).

26 “Journey from Prince of Wales’s Fort in Hudson’s Bay to the Northern
Ocean.”

27 In several of the older Arctic works glaciers and icebergs are
confounded. The fact is that the latter, or at all events the larger
number of the latter, are born of the former. They are masses of ice
which have become detached at the sea end and have floated away.

28 The writer has visited many parts of Russian-America, or, as it is
now called, Alaska, a little south of the above point. The natives
as a rule live _underground_ in winter, but they have for summer use
board and log houses on the surface, and stages above and around
them of all kinds, some for drying fish, others for raising sledges
or canoes above the surface of the ground, &c.

29 There is none growing, but a wreck or piece of drift-wood
occasionally supplies their need. The writer was in Behring Sea in
the autumn of the year 1865, when the famed and dreaded privateer
_Shenandoah_ burned _thirty_ American whale-ships, and the natives
had then a considerable amount of wreckage, including complete
boats, which had come ashore. _Vide_ the author’s work, “Travel and
Adventure in the Territory of Alaska,” &c.

30 In the summer of 1843 Middendorf explored the coasts and
neighbourhood of Cape Taimyr, and looking seawards to the Polar
Ocean, saw open water.

31 The writer has spelt the word phonetically. It is impossible to
render more than the sound of a Russian word in English, and any
attempt to Anglicise the Russian spelling must end in failure, as
there are thirty-six letters in that language. But from intercourse
with educated Russians in Kamchatka during two visits in 1865 and
1866, he knows that his mode more nearly represents the sound than
the versions commonly adopted, one of which may be noted above in
the quotation from Müller, where the English translator has made the
word _Kamtschatka_.

32 We read little of these animals afterwards in Parry’s narrative, and
they were not, and could not be, of service in the perilous and
harassing journey, over broken and detached _sea_ ice, about to be
described.

33 “Phipps’s Voyage towards the North Pole.”

34 Sir John Franklin’s first wife died on the day after the departure
of the expedition from England.

35 It is not desirable here to enter into the detailed consideration of
who first discovered the North-west Passage. When Franklin sailed in
1845 there was but a comparatively small gap between Parry’s
furthest western point (Melville Island) and Back’s Great Fish
River, unexplored, and Franklin did undoubtedly complete this
missing link. M’Clure, as we shall afterwards see, made the passage
successfully and independently, and his discoveries were published
long before the world knew anything of Franklin’s fate or the extent
of his last voyage. The late Sir Roderick Murchison considered
Franklin “the first real discoverer of the North-west Passage,” and
the inscription on his monument bears witness to the same effect.

36 It will have been observed that Captain Collinson, who was to have
accompanied M’Clure, was never able to communicate with him. This
vessel, however, passed some time in the Arctic waters, and some
pieces of wreck purchased by him from the Esquimaux, and _supposed_
to have been parts of Franklin’s vessels, the _Erebus_ and _Terror_,
were the only relics which were ever obtained by any naval commander
acting under Government orders. Captain Parry’s discoveries, however
interesting in regard to the early progress of the expedition, threw
no light on its fate.

37 Although there is some variation in the mode of preparing this
comestible, it is essentially always the same: lean meat, dried and
cut into shreds, which is then pounded up and mixed with melted beef
fat, and pressed into cases. Among the Indians, who have not this
latter resource of civilisation, gut and skins are employed, and
their pemmican is not, therefore, unlike a rather substantial and
solid sausage.

38 Conjecture is perhaps wrong at this point, but the painful thought
has often occurred to the writer that the Esquimaux, not always
quite so innocent as some writers would have us believe, were the
murderers of some at least of the enfeebled party. Broken down by
starvation, and exhausted by painful travel, they would be an easy
prey to the hardy natives, whose cupidity might be excited by the
many useful articles they possessed. We have before seen how
Franklin was nearly involved in a serious _fracas_ with those
people, and in later days it is on record that Dr. Hayes, the
American explorer, discovered a plot for the destruction of his
party.

39 There are slight discrepancies in the above records, which, however,
can be readily understood were made in the hurry and excitement of
the moment.

40 No part of the skull of either skeleton was found, with the
exception only of the lower jaw of each.

41 “Arctic Explorations in the Years 1853, ’54, ’55,” by Elisha Kent
Kane, M.D., U.S.N.

42 “Summer in the Antarctic Regions.”

43 The word _Arctic_ is derived from the Greek, and signifies _of_, or
_belonging to the bear_.

44 Captain Dumont D’Urville commanded an expedition dispatched by
France in 1837 for the express purpose of exploring the Antarctic,
and Lieutenant Wilkes, U.S.N. had a similar commission the same
year. Wilkes and D’Urville sighted each other’s vessels on one
occasion, but through a mistake did not communicate.

45 Don Cristoval Colon. The port now generally termed Aspinwall, on the
Atlantic side of the Isthmus of Panama, was long, and is sometimes
nowadays known as Colon.

46 Translation of the history by Don Ferdinand Columbus in Churchill’s
Collection of Voyages and Travels.

47 They had been seventy days on the passage from Spain.

48 “Land-lubber” about expresses this term.

49 “History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.”

50 It must be remembered that it was the received opinion of the good
Roman Catholics of the period, that heathen nations were outside the
pale of spiritual and civil rights, and that their bodies were the
property of their conquerors. Even Columbus recommended an exchange
of native slaves for the commodities required in the colony;
representing, moreover, that their conversion would be the more
surely effected in slavery! _Vide_ Prescott’s “History of the Reign
of Ferdinand and Isabella.”

51 Calicut, in the district of Malabar, must not be confounded with
Calcutta. Calico derives its name from Calicut, once a famous
manufacturing city.

52 “The Voyages and Discoveries of the Companions of Columbus.”

53 The Straits of Magellan are nearly 300 miles in length, and vary in
breadth from one and a half to thirty-three miles. The rocky cliffs
and mountains which bound it are in some places 3,000 to 4,000 feet
in height. The passage has only been used extensively since the
steamship era. Now it is a common highway for steamships and some
sailing vessels, the latter being often towed through by steam tugs.

54 First discovered by Tasman in 1642.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs
and are near the text they illustrate.

Several illustrations which were missing from the List of Illustrations
have been added to it. They can be identified by the missing page numbers
in the list.

The following changes have been made to the text:

page iv, “Portugese” changed to “Portuguese” (three times)
page 7, “sudddenly” changed to “suddenly”
page 21, comma changed to period after “fleet”
page 27, “armanent” changed to “armament”
page 41, double quote changed to single quote after “them.”
page 60, “were” changed to “where”
page 134, “Vere” changed to “Veer”
page 201, period added after “northward”
page 212, quote mark added after “putrid.”
page 229, prime added after “43”, prime changed to double prime
after “15”
page 246, quote mark added before “It”
page 249, quote mark added after “superb.”
page 251, quote mark added after “land.”
page 271, quote mark added after “ice.”
page 275, comma changed to period after “whales”
page 299, quote mark removed before “On”
page 310, quote mark added after “fate!”
page 319, double “to” removed

Differences between the table of contents and the chapter summaries have
not been corrected. Neither have variations in hyphenation been
normalized.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 3" ***

Home