Seize a piece of bread and butter, grab a muffin—then decamp,
Ha! the trappers try to hit me! Ho! they throw their spoons and
knives,
But I dodge them by and chuckle, they can’t hit me for their lives.
So, I’m called old Whiskey Jack, nice old Whiskey,—gray and black.
I was here in Indian days, know their customs, know their ways,
I was here when Marquette came, saw Quebec when it began,
Saw the hemlock forests falling, lowered by the hand of man.
Yes, I’ve seen some doings surely, seen the redskins on Champlain,
Seen them fight on land and water, seen the bodies of the slain,
Seen the waves of Lake George glisten, heard the yells on Richelieu,
Heard the scalp dance, seen the torture, viewed the crackling
flames,—“A-hoo!”
Yes, I’m just old Whiskey Jack, plain old blue jay, gray and black,
Canadians know me, for I bring news of game and coming Spring,
What’s a woodland camp without me? what’s a fire without my call?
True, I’m just a plain old ranger, but—Egad—I’m loved by all!
HENRY HUDSON:
DISCOVERER OF HUDSON BAY AND EXPLORER
OF THE MAGNIFICENT RIVER
WHICH BEARS HIS NAME
(15??-1611)
“_Oh! See there, redskinned brother, where the winding river parts,_
_Where the shadows glance and glisten, where the silvery salmon
darts._
_See that hulk approaching,—floating without a sound,_
_With white clouds riding up above and sides so dark and round._
_Come! Let us paddle to it. Ha! See the pale-skinned men;_
_They beckon, smiling on us. They must be friendly, then._”
HENRY HUDSON:
DISCOVERER OF HUDSON BAY AND EXPLORER OF THE MAGNIFICENT RIVER WHICH
BEARS HIS NAME
(15??-1611)
WE had been plowing along over the great Atlantic on a clear and
starlit night. The _Mauretania_ was as steady as a pier in the East
River, so we were expecting no disaster, yet, when we tumbled from our
cots upon the day following, we were startled to see that the great,
steel hulk had ceased to move with her accustomed vigor. The resounding
_poom, poom_, of her giant propeller-shaft was no longer heard, and she
was only just drifting along through the gray-green waters. Every now
and again her massive fog-whistle would roar out its leonine warning:
“O-o-o-o-o-m! O-o-o-o-o-m!”
We stumbled to the deck, only to be chilled and dampened by a shroud of
mist, which had shut down upon our steel-clad home like a giant pall.
It curled, rolled and settled upon us as if it were a blanket saturated
with dank sea-water; it cut off the view, so that one peered at the
swishing ocean in vain; and it benumbed one, so that one’s voice was
stifled and choked, as if a huge overpowering hand were grasping at
one’s throat. And even from above came that soul-deadening roar of the
steam siren:
“O-o-o-o-o-m! O-o-o-o-o-m!”
In the blinding mist I bumped into a sailor.
“Avast there, my lad,” said he. “Can’t you get your sea legs?”
“No,” I replied. “Where are we?”
“Off the banks.”
“And the fog?”
“Usual thing. She’ll burn off in a couple of hours. We have to go easy
because of the Gloucester fishing fleet. Hear them!”
Indistinctly, in the murky pall, I seemed to hear the thin whining of
numberless, tin fish-horns.
“Pretty weak fog-whistles, aren’t they?”
I laughed.
But just then something happened.
The mist seemed to part as if rent by a strong and virile hand.
We could see the great, combing, green billows go careening and
bobbing by, as the cloud-bank shifted like a veil, and there, tossing
restlessly on the waves, was a long, brown boat! A number of men
were in her, all huddled together in a heap. They were dressed in
old-fashioned garments and their faces were drawn, haggard, pinched. In
the stern sat a bearded man holding fast to the tiller, at his feet lay
a slender youth.
The vista lasted but for a moment or two and then the fog-bank rolled
in again, hiding the picture from our startled, yet eager visions.
“Who are they?” asked I, breathlessly, as the sailor lurched against my
side.
“Henry Hudson and his crew,” he answered, with a hoarse chuckle.
And as I stumbled below, I thought that perhaps the weather-beaten
sea-dog might be correct.
* * * * *
If you had happened to be sitting upon the beach of Manhattan Island,
near the spot where is now the Battery, upon the eleventh day of
September, 1609, you would have seen a curiously shaped vessel
floating, lazing, along near the shore, and you would have also seen a
number of weather-scarred navigators who were anxiously peering at the
beach. The name of this boat, with a high poop and a curving prow, was
the _Half Moon_, and her captain was Henry Hudson, or Hendrick Hudson,
as he is sometimes called.
He was not only pleased, but also interested to see a land where was a
goodly lot of timber, lovely islands and broad harbors, pearly beaches
and dusky-bodied inhabitants, who seemed to be peacefully inclined.
And who was this fellow Henry, who had dared to come to explore that
island of Manhattan, where the mighty Woolworth Building was to rise up
in all its splendor, as if to laugh at the former simplicity and quiet
of the brush-covered strip of sandy soil?
Of the early history of the bold mariner hardly anything is known.
He was a native of England, a contemporary and friend of the famous
Captain John Smith, the settler of Virginia, and, like him, was a
professional navigator and intrepid adventurer. He resided in London,
was married, and had a son, to whom he was devotedly attached.
When Hudson was living in London, there were a great many merchants
there who were anxious to learn of a northern and westward route to
the East Indies, from which they imported teas, spices, and many other
articles. The commerce of this country was now brought partly over
land and then floated through the Mediterranean Sea. It was a slow and
laborious route for trade, so those nations farthest removed from the
advantages of that route (such as Spain, Portugal, and England), became
restless, and most desirous of finding a new and a shorter passage to
the East Indies.
In the year 1499, a celebrated Portuguese navigator, called Vasca de
Gama, had doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and, passing onward, had
appeared upon the coast of Hindustan. He had brought back word of
the southern route, but it was such a long and dangerous passage,
that the nations of Europe were not satisfied with it. They desired
a shorter highway to the wealth of the East, and began to think that
they might find it by sailing through the Arctic Ocean, and, passing
northwestwardly around the coast of North America, might journey around
the shore of Asia to the Indies with their marvelous wealth.
A number of rich men who lived in the city of London joined themselves
together as a London Company in the year 1607, and raised sufficient
money to purchase a ship and supply it with provisions for a journey
to the northwest. Knowing that everything depended upon the skill of
the commander, they chose, as their leader, Henry Hudson, who readily
accepted the position.
Upon a bright day in April, the Captain and crew went to the church
of Saint Ethelburge in Bishopsgate Street, and there received the
sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. There were eleven seamen in all, among
whom was John Hudson, son of the daring sea captain. It was a pious and
beautiful custom of those ancient times for seamen to thus act before
entrusting themselves to the mercy of the seas, where they were to meet
with unknown perils.
Strange as it may seem to us now, the object of this voyage was to find
a passage directly across the North Pole to Japan and China. Imagine
these brave fellows setting out in one of the small vessels of those
days to sail to the Pole! It seems absurd, for, even with a vessel
specially constructed to meet the ice packs, Commodore Peary had great
difficulty in keeping his vessel, the _Roosevelt_, from being crushed.
Yet, with their flimsy craft, these adventurers started out in quest of
the much-desired North West passage.
On May 1st. 1607, the navigators weighed anchor at Gravesend, and,
taking a northerly course, in twenty-six days reached the Shetland
Isles. Leaving these wild, rocky shores behind them, they now steered
northwest, and, in a week’s time, although they discovered no land,
they had the satisfaction of seeing six or seven whales near the ship.
Two days later, at 2 o’clock upon a foggy morning, land was seen ahead
of them. It was high, covered with snow, and, at the top, it looked
reddish; underneath a blackish color, with much ice lying about. There
were also great quantities of ducks and other wild-fowl along the
coast, and a whale spouted near the shore. This was the peninsula of
Greenland.
Thick fogs now shut down upon the mariners, accompanied by storms of
rain and of snow. The vessel was sometimes driven before a heavy gale
of wind; at other times becalmed. Yet, in spite of this, Hudson still
held on in a northeasterly course, hoping to sail around the land in
front of him and thus to reach the passage across the North Pole. At
last, discouraged at his slow progress, he determined to steer in an
easterly direction, hoping to find an island which was called Newland
upon the charts.
After sailing about sixteen miles, the ship came within sight of land
and many birds were seen flying over it with black and white stomachs,
and in form like a duck. Fogs again set in and much floating ice was
encountered, yet the vessel was headed onward in a northeasterly
direction. Land was seen at different intervals and the weather was
both temperate and pleasant. So, again steering eastward, the ship
struggled on against hard winds and heavy fogs until it had reached the
coast of Spitzbergen.
Great numbers of whales were playing around in a bay which they ran
into, and, while one of the men was amusing himself with a hook and a
line overboard, in order to try for a bite, one of the monster fish
dove under the vessel and caught upon his line. All the sailors feared
that they would be upset, but the big, black fellow made off without
doing them any serious damage.
“By God’s mercy,” says Hudson, in his diary, “we had no harm but the
loss of the hook and three parts of the line.”
After sailing along the coast for some time, again the mariner headed
for Greenland, hoping to steer around it, towards the north, and then
return to England. But fogs, storms, and floating ice interfered with
his journey, to such an extent, that he was forced to turn around and
head for the place from which he had started.
Thus, after a hard voyage of four months and a half, he sailed up the
river Thames, beaten in his effort to find the North West passage,
yet with the news of many lands which no Englishman had yet seen. His
employers greeted him warmly and were sufficiently well pleased with
his success to trust him with a second adventure, for he had been
farther north than any navigator who had preceded him, and had opened
the commerce of the whale fishery to his countrymen. He was also the
re-discoverer of Spitzbergen, which had first been seen by one William
Barentz, a Dutch navigator, in the year 1596.
Spring had no sooner opened, in the year following, than Hudson
commenced making his preparations for a second voyage. This time he was
to endeavor to seek the passage for the East Indies by passing between
Spitzbergen and Nova Zembla. Thus, with a crew of fifteen persons,
and his son John, he set sail from London on the twenty-second day of
April, heading north, where lay the region of ice and snow.
At one time the vessel would meet large quantities of drift-wood
driving by in a confused mass; then large numbers of whales and
porpoises would be met with, and the sea would be covered with
multitudes of birds. Then again the mariners would come across numbers
of seals lying about upon cakes of ice, and polar bears would lumber
away over the glistening ice-pack. Two of the sailors, also, said that
they saw a mermaid close to the side of the ship, but a big wave came
along and overturned her. As she went down into the surging brine they
saw her tail, which was similar to the tail of a porpoise, and was
speckled like a mackerel.
After sighting land, and exploring numberless bays and harbors, Hudson
finally reached a great sound, into which emptied a stream. The vessel
was anchored, and five men were sent forward in a boat to explore this
river, in order to see whether or not the water-course dipped to the
south and led to a passage through to Asia. But the water became very
shallow, as the explorers proceeded, so they came back and reported
that the vessel could not venture farther upon its way. As the
provisions were now getting somewhat low, Hudson decided to steer for
England. This he did, entering the peaceful Thames, after an absence
of about four months. He was not received with the same cordiality
which had greeted him after his first voyage. His employers had grown
discouraged by these two unsuccessful attempts to find a shorter route
to Asia.
The members of the London Company, in fact, refused to lend any more
money or supplies to Mr. Henry Hudson, so that gallant gentleman took
a jaunt to Holland in order to offer his services to the Dutch East
India Company. His fame had preceded him, and he was greeted with
cordial respect. A small ship was given to him called the _Half Moon_,
and he was requested to go forth once more and discover the North West
passage, upon which his heart was set. With a crew consisting of twenty
Englishmen and Dutchmen, among whom was the same mate who had served
with him upon his last voyage, he was now ready to brave again the ice
and storms of the Arctic seas.
Upon March the 25th., the experienced navigator left New Amsterdam, and
was ere long upon the coast of Nova Zembla, when he met with so much
ice and fog, that he gave up any hope of reaching India by this route.
But Hudson was made of no common clay, and, although beaten by the
elements, which denied him a northern route, determined to sail to
America, that land about which every one in Europe was hearing such
wonderful stories. Furthermore, he had with him some maps which had
been given him by his old friend, Captain John Smith, on which a strait
was marked, south of the fair land of Virginia, by which he might
reach the Pacific Ocean and the East Indies. Then, too, he might gain
a passage through to the northwest, by means of Davis Strait. Why not?
He asked his crew about it, and they voted, to a man, to sail westward.
Many of these bronzed sea-dogs had been trained in the East Indies
service, were accustomed to sailing in warm, tropical climates, and
therefore chose to sail south, rather than to meet the fog, the ice,
and the chill tempests of the northern seas.
Heading towards the West, the _Half Moon_ soon reached one of the Faroe
Islands, where the casks were filled with fresh water, and then the
sails were again hoisted, and a course was set towards Newfoundland.
Early in July the Grand Banks were reached, where was a great fleet
of French fishing smacks, which had come this great distance in order
to catch cod and haddock. As the _Half Moon_ was now becalmed for
several days, the crew was sent to the banks to try their luck, and, in
one day, one hundred and thirty cod-fish were captured. The wind now
freshened, so the mariners sailed towards the west. They soon cleared
the banks, passed the shore of Nova Scotia, and, on the morning of the
12th, saw the coast of North America before them. Clouded by fog banks,
but brown, rock-ribbed, pine-clad, lay the wonderful country which was
inhabited by the deer, the beaver, the moose, and the red Indian.
The _Half Moon_ careened along for several days at some distance from
the land, as the fog was so thick, that Hudson feared to approach.
Finally the sun burned through the mist and the mariners ran into a
goodly harbor at the mouth of a large river. It was Penobscot Bay, upon
the coast of Maine, as beautiful then as it is now.
As the ship was lying-to off the harbor, unable to enter because of the
fog, two birch-bark canoes had approached them, with six natives of the
country, who seemed delighted to see the mariners. Captain Hudson gave
them some glass beads and other trinkets,—then they ate and drank with
him. One of the natives could speak a little French and told them that
the French people were in the habit of trading with them, and that
they had gold, copper, and silver mines near by.
When the _Half Moon_ entered Penobscot Bay, great numbers of the
redskins paddled out to the vessel, climbed on board, and eagerly gazed
upon the sailors, as they mended the sails and made a new foremast.
Some of the mariners went ashore to get a needed supply of water, while
others amused themselves by catching lobsters,—not in a lobster-pot,
you may be sure, but in a small net baited with fish.
Hudson’s men seemed to have had a foolish distrust of the redskins. The
Indians were friendly and wished to trade beaver-pelts and fine furs
for hatchets, beads, and knives; yet the mariners were so suspicious
that they kept a strict watch upon the ship in order to see that no
natives approached under cover of the darkness. At last, their mast
being ready, these navigators manned a boat with twelve men armed
with muskets, and, landing upon the shore, made a savage attack upon
the peaceful red men, whom they drove from their houses. It is to the
disgrace of Hudson that he allowed this to happen, the only excuse
that can be offered being that he had under his command a wild and
ungovernable lot of uneducated Dutch and Englishmen.
Having perpetrated this act of cruelty, the adventurers set sail,
steering southward along the coast of America, and, in a short time
came within sight of Cape Cod. They sounded and found the water
quite deep within bowshot of the shore, and, proceeding to the land,
discovered grapes and rose-trees, which they brought on board their
ship. The _Half Moon_ was now sailed towards the shore and was
anchored there. Here Hudson heard voices calling to him from the beach,
and, thinking that they might be the cries of some poor sailors who had
been left behind, he immediately sent a part of the crew in a boat to
land. Upon jumping out upon the sand, it was found that the calls had
been made by Indians, who appeared to be greatly rejoiced to see them.
The men returned to the ship, bringing one of the natives on board with
them, whom they fed, presented with a few glass buttons, and then put
ashore in the boat. When the redskin reached the land, he gave every
manifestation of great joy, by dancing, leaping, and throwing up his
hands. Then letting out a wild and uncouth yell, he disappeared into
the brush.
Amused and interested, Hudson now steered southeast, and soon passed
the southern point of Cape Cod, which he knew to be the headland which
Bartholomew Gosnold had discovered in 1602, seven years before. He
sailed by Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard and kept upon his course
due south, until, upon the 18th. day of August, he found himself at
the entrance of Chesapeake Bay, where, two years before, the first
English settlement had been made in America. Hudson was filled with
great admiration for these broad waters, and, keeping on, reached the
thirty-fifth degree of latitude, or a position which made him certain
that there was no passage to the South Pacific Ocean, as John Smith had
said. So, retracing his course, he passed the shores of Maryland and
discovered the great bay of Delaware.
[Illustration: HENRY HUDSON IN NEW YORK HARBOR]
“It is a good land to fall in with, and is a pleasant land to see,”
writes Hudson in his diary, transcribed as the _Half Moon_ was sailing
off the shore of Long Branch, New Jersey. The weather was dark and
misty, so, sending some men inshore in order to find out the depth
of the water, the vessel was headed inland, and, upon the morning of
September third, was anchored within Sandy Hook, in five fathoms of
water. The next morning, this bold navigator saw that there was “good
anchorage and a safe harbor,” so he steered his little vessel within
the bay of Sandy Hook, at a distance of two cable lengths from the
shore, resting in the famous harbor of New York.
Could Henry Hudson have looked forward through the years and have
seen the city of tall buildings, wharves, cobbled streets and rolling
elevated-trains which was to cover the island of Manhattan, then lying
tranquilly before his gaze, he would doubtless have passed a night of
restless nightmare. But he had no forward vision, and, as he feasted
his eyes upon a long beach of white sand, behind which were low scrubby
bushes, plum trees, grape vines, and twisted oaks, he peacefully
smoked a long pipe which an Indian brave had given him, and dreamed of
discovering a passage to Asia.
The ship lay drowsily at anchor, and, as it swung upon its chain, many
redskins came paddling out from the shore, clambered on board, and
seemed to be delighted to see these strange visitors. They were dressed
in well-cured deer-skins, which hung loosely over their shoulders, and
had many ornaments of copper scattered upon their persons. They brought
ears of corn with them and also tobacco, which they wished to exchange
for beads, for knives, and for other trinkets. The sailors had much fun
in bartering with them and in smoking their stone pipes.
The ship rode snugly at anchor, but during the night a gale sprang up,
which was of such fury, that the anchor dragged, and the _Half Moon_
was soon high and dry upon the Jersey beach. But she was not even
strained, as the bottom was “soft and oozy,” and when flood-tide came
along she was easily towed into deep water. Yet, this was of great
interest to the native inhabitants, who crowded eagerly to the shore:
men, women and children. They were also very kind, giving the sailors
presents of dried currants and green tobacco. Notwithstanding this, the
mariners suspected them of treachery and kept continually upon their
guard.
Henry Hudson saw that a large river emptied into this bay, where lay
the _Half Moon_, so he sent five men in order to explore and discover
how far he could go. They passed through what is now known as the
Narrows, found the land to be covered with trees, grass, and flowers,
the fragrance of which was delightful, and, after going six miles into
New York Bay, turned back. Now an unhappy event was to occur, yet
one which showed that the distrust of the natives was a well-founded
prejudice.
The boat was being driven along toward the ship, just at dusk, when it
was attacked by two canoes containing twenty-six redskinned warriors of
old-time New York. Rain was falling, so it was impossible to use the
ancient muskets, or match-locks, which were touched off by means of a
lighted fuse. The white men could therefore make no defense and rowed
off as fast as they could, while a shower of Indian arrows fell into
the boat, striking three of the explorers in the body. One of them,
John Colman, was killed by an arrow which struck him in the neck. He
had been with Hudson in his first voyage and was greatly loved by the
brave and resolute navigator.
In this, the first boat race in New York harbor between the redskins
and the whites, the white men were victorious, for they escaped into
the darkness and wandered around all night. In the dim gray of the
early morn they found the ship; climbed thankfully on board, and told
of their experience with some show of anxiety, for they feared a
general attack from the red men. None came, however, and the dead body
of Colman was taken ashore at Sandy Hook, where it was buried in the
soil at a place called Colman’s Point.
Just as soon as the burying party had returned to the ship, the boat
was hoisted in, and bulwarks were erected upon the sides in order to
repel the expected Indian attack. But none came. The night was quiet,
only the lapping of the water around the ship’s bow could be heard,
and, when day dawned, numerous redskins paddled out to the vessel in
the most friendly manner, bringing corn and tobacco to trade with the
sailors. From their actions, it appeared that they knew nothing of the
battle upon the previous day, and they left in good humor, promising
to return next morning with more provisions and many beaver-skins for
trade.