THE FATAL VOYAGE OF THE HEER VAN ESTELL.
It was in the month of August, 1670, that the barque _De Ruyter_,
bearing the flag of the Seven United Provinces (then under their High
Mightinesses the States General) and named after Michael Adrian de
Ruyter, Admiral of Holland--the same valiant mariner who beat the
English, burned Chatham, and bombarded Tilbury--left the port of
Pernambuco, in Peru, for Rotterdam, tacking carefully to avoid the
shoals and rocks which made the Portuguese of old name it the "Mouth
of Hell"--_Inferno-bocca_--hence its present corrupted name.
She was manned by Captain Koningsmarke and sixteen seamen; she
carried four brass guns, and had her stern decorated by the lions,
spotted sable and gules, which form the arms of Rotterdam. Her mate
was an Englishman named Carpinger, a brave and skilful seaman.
As passengers, she had the Heer Van Estell, his wife Gudule, their
two little children, Erasmus and Cornelius, with Dame Trüdchen, their
faithful old nurse. The Heer was a native of the Low Countries, who,
after a long residence in the Dutch colony at Brazil, had amassed a
magnificent fortune, and risen to be a Director of the Company of the
Great Indies, a dignity which no one could attain unless he vested
twelve thousand guilders in the old stock. Now, having amassed all
the wealth he deemed desirable, with his wife and children--little
curly-haired Erasmus, whom he had named after the great philosopher
of Rotterdam (towards whose statue in the Bürger-platz he gave a
thousand rix-dollars), and chubby little Cornelius, whom he had named
after Cornelius de Witt, who, with his brother, was so barbarously
assassinated by William of Orange (and afterwards of England)--he was
returning to his native city to spend his days in peace and quiet,
with the three beings whom he loved most on earth.
The day was cloudless and clear, the wind was fair, but light, and
while the bark, with all her canvas set, from her flying-jib to her
spanker, and with the colours of the Seven Provinces flying at her
gaff-peak, passed in safety the flat sandbanks of St. Antonio, and
that long reef which receives the full force of the sea, and guards
the town of Recife, the tall and portly Heer, with his beautiful wife
and chubby little ones beside him, sat in a cushioned chair on the
warm deck, enjoying a long pipe of tobacco with all the ease and
complacency that became a wealthy Hollander and Director of the Great
India Company.
Without any emotion, save joy that he was returning, he saw the hill
of Olinda, the tall slender spires of the town, and the grim
batteries of Cinco Pontas, melt in the distance astern, as the _De
Ruyter_ bore away into the Western Ocean.
For more than a month the voyage was delightful and prosperous; but
adverse winds came anon, and storms too; and Captain Koningsmarke was
blown out of his course; moreover, he lost his reckoning, as the sky
remained obscured by clouds, and for weeks both quadrant and sextant
were used in vain.
His anxiety and that of the Heer became great, for provisions were
becoming scarce--so much so that, ere long, all on board received but
a scanty allowance. Then Van Estell and Dame Gudule beheld with
secret agony the roses fading from the cheeks of their children,
their pretty faces becoming blanched, and their once round forms
attenuated.
Week after week rolled anxiously, mournfully away!
Still the winds were adverse, and still the _De Ruyter_ tacked and
tacked again, like the fabled ship of Vanderdecken, but without
meeting a craft that might assist them, till at last there fell a
death-like calm upon the sea; and then, for many, many days under a
hot sun, and in the breathless nights that followed, the helpless
vessel lay like a log, with her blocks and cordage rattling, and her
loose canvas flapping until it was frittered and frayed on the
blistering yards and masts, while the sea chafed her rusting
chain-plates and the pitch boiled from her planking--yet "she lay so
that, for several weeks, they could scarcely tell whether they were
forwarded a league's space."
And now a deadly pest broke out on board--a malignant fever, which
covered its victims with livid blotches, like the spotted lions,
gules and sable, on the ship's stern; and among those who perished
were Koningsmarke, the captain, and eight of his crew. They were
thrown overboard, and for days their bodies remained in sight, with
fishes sporting about them, and obscene birds of the sea lighting on
them, as they floated on its still and waveless surface.
Provisions were now dealt out more sparingly than ever. Strong men
grew wan, and gaunt, and feeble; for as their strength failed and
hope faded, so did their spirit die within them; and then even the
most superstitious ceased to _whistle_ for wind.
At last they were reduced to a half biscuit and single morsel of meat
per day; the latter failed, and then the half biscuit; and now they
looked grimly and terribly in each other's hollow visages and
bloodshot eyes, while wondering what was to become of them, for
although lines had long hung overboard, the sea had refused to yield
them fish.
"To wait with hope is nothing, but to wait with DESPAIR is worse than
death!"
So did the Heer Van Estell wait, and his wife Gudule--now no longer
the beautiful Gudule, for she was wan, wasted, and sinking, having
given her pittance of food for several days to sustain her little
ones. All his wealth, all the riches acquired by years of prudence
in the Indies, would the unhappy Van Estell have given gladly to
purchase a single biscuit, to sustain for one day more the lives of
those he loved so well.
At last little Erasmus and Cornelius died, passing away without pain
or a murmur, having become of late too weak even to weep for food.
They passed away, and the Heer and his wife remained by the pretty
corpses as if transformed to stone!
Four days passed after this--still no food--no hope--no wind in the
air, no ship upon the sea!
Gudule could not consent to cast her dead children into its mighty
depth; but anon she repented of it bitterly, for the eight seamen who
remained, after a long conference on the forecastle, and frequently
casting glances aft towards the cabin--glances like those of
wolves--came in a body, and demanded that the dead children should be
surrendered to them as _food_!
The entreaties and tears of the parents were vain. The Heer (now
shorn of his strength) and his miserable helpmate were thrust into
their cabin, while the wasted bodies of their children were borne
away and laid on the drum of the capstan, where they were cut to
pieces by the cook's knife, and then devoured raw. Hunger seemed to
make the sailors insane, and able to overcome all aversion for food
so unnatural; but whether it was that they ate immoderately, or that
with satiety came a horror of their meal, I know not, but they were
immediately assailed by a dreadful sickness, which left their bodies
weaker than ever.
Gudule lay in a stupor on her bed, but the Heer loaded his pistols,
though scarcely knowing for what purpose; and exerting all his
strength, he contrived to burst open the cabin door and stagger on
deck, when the crew, whom the hunger of another day assailed again,
had just concluded the last of a second dreadful banquet--a banquet
on his children!
On the capstan there lay the head of one. It had the fair curly
locks of little Erasmus.
"Oh, madness and agony!" groaned the miserable Van Estell, as he took
it in his tremulous hands, kissed it tenderly thrice, and slowly and
solemnly dropped it into the glassy sea.
He could not weep--his hot dry eyes refused a tear, but groans burst
from his overcharged breast and parched lips, and he swooned on the
deck. There he lay, and so another day passed. When he recovered it
was about the time of midnight, and a full round moon was shining on
that now neglected ship of death and of despair.
The atmosphere was mild and warm.
The Heer stole into the cabin, and saw that his poor, sad, childless
wife lay very still and motionless. Tremblingly he drew near, lest
she might be dead; for then he had resolved to cast her and himself
into the sea, lest her fair form might also be devoured by the madmen
on deck. But she was in a soft sleep, dreaming, perhaps, that her
lost little ones were alive, and seated by her side in a palm grove
of Peru, listening to the voice of the campanero, or sweet bell-bird
of Brazil. The deep slumber that follows long hours of mental and
bodily suffering had fallen upon her.
The poor man wept and kissed her tenderly, but at that moment the
mate, George Carpinger, entered, and roughly ordered him to come
forward to the capstan head, where he and his comrades were
deliberating on what was to be done next.
Heer Van Estell assured himself that his pistols were still in his
pocket, that they were primed and loaded, and then he obeyed. As
these nine men stood round the capstan, they resembled spectres
rather than human beings, when the cold lustre of the moon fell on
their pallid visages and bloodshot eyes that glared wildly from out
their sunken sockets.
Eleven persons were still on board, namely, the Heer, his wife and
servant, the mate, and seven seamen; it was evident that one must be
sacrificed to prolong the existence of the rest, and mentally they
resolved that whoever became the victim, should be cooked, lest the
flesh might sicken them again......