favorable season of the year, in pursuit of the whale fishery, became
desirous of ascertaining the state of different places while winter
prevailed. Various opinions were entertained concerning this subject,
and astronomers wished to have their sentiments regarding certain
natural phenomena, either realized or controverted. Besides, a more
important object was concealed under these ostensible reasons, namely,
whether the establishment of permanent colonies in the most remote
parts of Greenland was practicable. A proposal was therefore
promulgated through the Greenland fleet, for seven seamen to offer to
remain a winter in St. Maurice's Island, and also for other seven to
winter in Spitzbergen. We are not acquainted with the inducements
held forth; but it is probable that little hesitation ensued, for we
find a party prepared to winter at the different places specified,
nearly about the same period.
Seven of the stoutest and ablest men of the fleet having accordingly
agreed to be left behind, their comrades sailed from St. Maurice's
Isle on the 26th of August 1633.
The people, two days afterwards, shared half a pound of tobacco, to
which they restricted themselves as a weekly allowance. At this time
there was no night, and the heat of the sun so powerful through the
day, that they pulled off their shirts, and sported on the side of a
hill near their abode. Great abundance of sea-gulls frequented the
island, and the seamen made a constant practice of seeking for
vegetables growing there for salad.
Towards the end of September, the weather began to be tempestuous, and
in the earlier part of October, their huts were so much shaken by
violent storms of wind, that their nightly rest was interrupted; but
they did not resort to firing until the 9th of that month. About a
week subsequent, two whales were cast ashore, and the seamen
immediately endeavored to kill them with harpoons, lances, and
cutlasses, but the tide flowing enabled them to escape.
As winter advanced, bears became so numerous, that the people durst
scarce venture abroad from their huts towards night; but in the day
time some were occasionally killed, which they roasted. Several of
these animals were so strong, however, that they would run off after
being shot through. A great many gulls were also seen on the sea-side
which retired every night to the mountains, their usual place of
retreat.
The first of January 1634, was ushered in with dark and frosty
weather; the seamen, after wishing each other a happy new year, and
good success in their enterprize, went to prayers. Two bears
approached very near their huts, but the darkness of the day, and the
depth of the snow, rendered it impossible to take them; not long
afterwards the seamen were more successful, and, having shot one,
dragged it into a hut, where they skinned it. From the 1st of February
these animals became very shy, and were seldom seen.
In the month of March all the people were attacked by scurvy, owing to
the scarcity of fresh provisions, and their spirits sunk with the
progress of the disease; only two were in health on the 3d of April,
while the rest were extremely ill. Two pullets were at their request
killed for them, no more being left; and as their appetites were
pretty good, the others entertained hopes of their convalescence. The
whole seldom left their hut to examine the appearance of the sea, or
the surrounding country; but, on the 15th, they observed four whales
in a neighboring bay.
The clerk was now very ill, and died on the 16th, whereupon the
surviving mariners invoked Heaven to have mercy on his soul, and also
on themselves, for they suffered severely. No fresh provisions
whatever were left, and they daily grew worse, partly from want of
necessary articles, and partly from the excessive cold. Even when in
health they could scarce keep themselves in heat by exercise; and when
sick, and unable to stir from their huts, that remedy was at an end.
Disease made rapid progress among these unfortunate people, so that on
the 23d not more than one individual could give an account of the
rest, which is done in these words of his journal: "We are by this
time reduced to a deplorable state, none of my comrades being able to
help himself, much less another; the whole burden, therefore, lies on
my shoulders, and I shall perform my duty as well as I am able, so
long as it pleases God to give me strength. I am just now about to
assist our commander out of his cabin; he thinks it will relieve his
pain, for he is struggling with death. The night is dark, and wind
blowing from the south."
Meantime the Dutch, who repaired in the summer season to Greenland,
became impatient to learn the fate of the seven men left in the Isle
of St. Maurice. Some of the seamen got into a boat immediately on
their arrival, on the 4th of June 1634, and hastened towards the huts.
Yet, from none of the others having come to the sea-side to welcome
them, they presaged nothing good; and accordingly found that all the
unfortunate men had breathed their last. The first, as has been seen,
expired on the 16th of April 1634, and his comrades, having put his
body in a coffin, deposited it in one of the huts. The remainder were
conjectured to have died about the beginning of May, from a journal
kept by them, expressing that, on the 27th of April, they had killed
their dog for want of fresh provisions, and from its termination on
the last of this month.
Near one of the bodies stood some bread and cheese, on which the
mariner had perhaps subsisted immediately preceding his decease; a box
of ointment lay beside the cabin of another, with which he had rubbed
his teeth and joints, and his arm was still extended towards his
mouth. A prayer-book, which he had been reading, also lay near him.
Each of the men was found in his own cabin.
The Commodore of the Greenland fleet having got this melancholy
intelligence, ordered the six bodies to be put into coffins, and,
along with the seventh, deposited beneath the snow. Afterwards, when
the earth thawed, they were removed, and interred, on St. John's day,
under a general discharge of the cannon of the fleet.
SEAMEN WINTERING IN SPITZBERGEN.
On the 30th of August 1633, the Dutch fleet sailed from North-Bay, in
Spitzbergen, leaving seven men behind, who had agreed to winter there.
Immediately, on departure of the vessels, they began to collect a
sufficient quantity of provisions to serve their necessities until
their comrades should return in the subsequent year. Therefore, at
different times, they hunted rein-deer with success, and caught many
sea-fowl; and also occasionally got herbs, which proved very salutary.
Excursions both by sea and land were frequently made when the weather
would permit; and they endeavored to kill whales and narwhals in the
different bays on the east coast of Spitzbergen.
The extreme cold of the climate was announced by the disappearance of
all the feathered tribe on the third of October, and from that time it
gradually augmented. On the 13th their casks of beer were frozen three
inches thick, and very soon afterwards, though standing within eight
feet of the fire, they froze from top to bottom. The seamen had broke
the ice on the sea, and disposed a net for catching fish below it; but
the rigour of the weather constantly increasing, the ice formed a foot
thick at the surface in the space of two hours.
From the excessive cold, they remained almost constantly in bed, and,
notwithstanding they had both a grate and a stove, they were
sometimes obliged to rise and take violent exercise to keep themselves
in heat.
Beautiful phenomena appeared in the sky during winter, consisting of
the Aurora Borealis, of surprising splendour and magnitude, and other
meteors seeming to arise from the icy mountains.
On the third of March the mariners had an encounter with a monstrous
bear, in which one of them very nearly perished. The animal became
furious from its wounds; leaping against a seaman, about to pierce it
with his lance, it threw him down, and, but for the opportune
interposition of another, would have torn him to pieces.
At length, after suffering many hardships and privations the mariners
were gladdened with the sight of a boat rowing into the bay, on the
27th of May 1634, announcing the return of a Dutch Greenlandman, which
anchored there the same evening.
The Dutch, encouraged by the safety of this party, proposed that other
seven people, provided with all necessaries, should pass the following
winter in their place; and, accordingly, Andrew Johnson, Cornelius
Thysse, Jerome Carcoen, Tiebke Jellis, Nicholas Florison, Adrian
Johnson, and Fettje Otters, offered to remain.
The fleet, therefore, sailed for Holland on the 11th of September
1634, leaving these men behind. Numbers of whales were in sight of
Spitzbergen on the same day, which the people made an unsuccessful
attempt to catch.
Towards the end of November, scurvy beginning to appear among them,
they carefully sought for green herbs, but in vain; nor were they more
fortunate in the pursuit of bears and foxes for fresh provisions.
However, they drank some potions and took other antidotes against the
disease, and then set traps for foxes.
A bear being discovered on the 24th of November, three of the people
eagerly proceeded to attack it, for their necessities were daily
becoming greater. The animal, rising to receive them on its hind legs,
was shot through the body, whereupon it began to bleed and roar most
hideously, and fiercely bit a halbert. But, likely to be overpowered,
it took to flight, and was anxiously pursued by the people a long way,
carrying lanthorns, though unsuccessfully; and they were all much
dispirited from the disappointment of fresh provision, which they so
much required.
[Illustration: Appearance of the Aurora Borealis from the Island of
East Spitzbergen--_page 186_.]
On the 14th of January, Adrian Johnson died. The whole of the rest
were extremely ill. Fettje Otters died next day, and also Cornelius
Thysse on the 17th, a man in whom his comrades rested their chief hope
next to God.
Notwithstanding the weakness of the survivors, who could scarce
support themselves on their legs, they contrived to make three coffins
for the deceased, and put their bodies into them.
In the beginning of February they had the good fortune to catch a fox,
an incident which afforded them much satisfaction, but at that time
disease had gone too far to admit their deriving material benefit from
the flesh. Many bears, even six or ten together were seen; but the
people had not strength to manage their guns, nor, had it been
otherwise, were they able to pursue them. Now they were seized with
excruciating pains about the loins and belly, which were aggravated by
cold. One spit blood, and another was afflicted with a bloody flux;
yet Jerome Carcoen could still bring in fuel to keep up the fires.
The sun had disappeared on the 20th of October, nor was he seen again
until the 24th of February, when the mariners were so weak as to be
constantly confined to their cabins. Two days after, they ceased to be
able to write, at that time expressing themselves in a journal thus:
"Four of us who still survive, lie flat on the floor of our hut. We
think we could still eat, were there only one among us able to get
fuel, but none can move for pain; our time is spent in constant
prayer, that God, in his mercy, would deliver us from this misery; we
are ready whenever he pleases to call us. Assuredly we cannot long
survive without food or firing; we are unable to assist each other in
our mutual afflictions, and each must bear his own burden."
The seamen of the Dutch fleet arriving at Spitzbergen, in 1635,
hastened to inquire after the fate of their comrades; and having found
their hut all closed around as a protection against wild beasts, they
broke open the back door. A man then entering, ran up stairs, where he
discovered part of a dead dog on the floor, laid there to dry, and
quickly descending, trod on the carcass of another dog also dead.
Thence passing towards the front door, he stumbled in the dark over
several dead bodies, which, after the door was opened, were seen lying
together. Three were in coffins; Nicholas Florison and another, each
in a cabin; and the other two on some sails covering the floor, lying
with their knees drawn up to their chins. Therefore the whole of these
unfortunate people had perished.
Coffins were prepared for the four bodies wanting them, and all were
buried under the snow, until the ground became more penetrable, when
they were deposited in the earth beside each other, and stones laid on
their graves, to preserve them from the ravenous beasts of prey.
A MAN OVERBOARD.
Sailors are men of rough habits, but their feelings are not by any
means so coarse: if they possess little prudence or worldly
consideration, they are likewise very free from selfishness; generally
speaking, too, they are much attached to one another, and will make
great sacrifices to their messmates or shipmates when opportunities
occur.
I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a
man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and
long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called
to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle and on looking about to
see if all the men were at their station, missed one of the fore-top
men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and apparently
hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat and the
booms. 'Hillo!' I said, 'who are you? What are you doing there, you
skulker? Why are you not at your station?'
'I am not skulking,' said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose
bronzed and weatherbeaten cheek were running down with tears. The man
we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten
years. I begged his pardon, in full sincerity, for having used such
harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his birth
for the rest of the day--'Never mind, sir, never mind,' said the kind
hearted seaman, 'it can't be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as
well on deck as below. Bill's gone sir, but I must do my duty.' So
saying, he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his
eyes, and mustering his grief within his breast, walked to his station
as if nothing had happened.
In the same ship and nearly about the same time, the people were
bathing along side in a calm at sea. It is customary on such occasions
to spread a studding-sail on the water, by means of lines from the
fore and main yard arms, for the use of those who either cannot swim,
or who are not expert in this art, so very important to all seafaring
people. Half a dozen of the ship's boys were floundering about in the
sails, and sometimes even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the
least of these urchins, but not the least courageous of their number,
when taunted by his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck
out boldly beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further
than his own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea,
when his heart failed him, poor little man; and along with his
confidence away also went his power of keeping his head above the
water. So down he sank rapidly, to the speechless horror of the other
boys, who of course, could lend the drowning child no help.
The captain of the forecastle, a tall, fine-looking, hard-a-weather
fellow, was standing on the shank of the sheet anchor with his arms
across, and his well varnished canvass hat drawn so much over his eyes
that it was difficult to tell whether he was awake or merely dozing in
the sun, as he leaned his back against the fore-topmast backstay. The
seaman, however, had been attentively watching the young party all the
time, and rather fearing that mischief might ensue from their
rashness, he had grunted out a warning to them from time to time, to
which they paid no sort of attention. At last he desisted, saying they
might drown themselves if they had a mind, for never a bit would he
help them; but no sooner did the sinking figure of the adventurous
little boy catch his eye, than, diver fashion, he joined the palms of
his hands over his head, inverted his position in one instant, and
urging himself into swifter motion by a smart push with his feet
against the anchor, shot head foremost into the water. The poor lad
sunk so rapidly that he was at least a couple of fathoms under the
surface before he was arrested by the grip of the sailor, who soon
rose again, bearing the bewildered boy in his hand, and calling to the
other youngsters to take better care of their companion, chucked him
right into the belly of the sail. The fore-sheet was hanging in the
calm, nearly into the water, and by it the dripping seaman scrambled
up again to his old birth on the anchor, shook himself like a great
Newfoundland dog, and then jumping on the deck, proceeded across the
forecastle to shift himself.
At the top of the ladder he was stopped by the marine officer, who had
witnessed the whole transaction, as he sat across the gangway
hammocks, watching the swimmers, and trying to get his own consent to
undergo the labor of undressing. Said the soldier to the sailor, "That
was very well done of you, my man, and right well deserves a glass of
grog. Say so to the gun-room steward as you pass; and tell him it is
my orders to fill you out a stiff nor-wester." The soldier's offer was
kindly meant, but rather clumsily timed, at least so thought Jack: for
though he inclined his head in acknowledgment of the attention, and
instinctively touched his hat when spoken to by an officer, he made no
reply till out of the marine's hearing, when he laughed, or rather
chuckled out to the people near him, "Does the good gentleman suppose
I'll take a glass of grog for saving a boy's life."
AN ESCAPE THROUGH THE CABIN-WINDOWS.
In the year 18--, said Capt. M----, I was bound, in a fine stout ship
of about four hundred tons burden, from the port of l'---- to
Liverpool. The ship had a valuable cargo on board and about ninety
thousand dollars in specie. I had been prevented, by other urgent
business, from giving much of my attention to the vessel while loading
and equipping for the voyage, but was very particular in my directions
to the chief mate, in whom I had great confidence, he having sailed
with me some years, to avoid entering, if possible, any but native
American seamen. When we were about to sail, he informed me that he
had not been able to comply with my directions entirely in this
particular; but had shipped two foreigners as seamen, one a native of
Guernsey, and the other a Frenchman from Brittany. I was pleased,
however, with the appearance of the crew generally, and particularly
with the foreigners. They were both stout and able-bodied men, and
were particularly alert and attentive to orders.
The passage commenced auspiciously and promised to be a speedy one, as
we took a fine steady westerly wind soon after we lost soundings. To
my great sorrow and uneasiness, I soon discovered in the foreigners a
change of conduct for the worse. They became insolent to the mates and
appeared to be frequently under the excitement of liquor, and had
evidently acquired an undue influence with the rest of the men. Their
intemperance soon became intolerable, and as it was evident that they
had brought liquor on board with them, I determined upon searching the
forecastle and depriving them of it. An order to this effect was given
to the mates, and they were directed to go about its execution mildly
and firmly, taking no arms with them as they seemed inclined to do,
but to give every chest, birth and locker in the forecastle a thorough
examination; and bring aft to the cabin any spirits they might find.
It was not without much anxiety that I sent them forward upon this
duty. I remained upon the quarter deck myself, ready to go to their
aid, should it be necessary. In a few moments, a loud and angry
dispute was succeeded by a sharp scuffle around the forecastle
companion-way. The steward, at my call, handed my loaded pistols from
the cabin, and with them I hastened forward. The Frenchman had
grappled the second mate, who was a mere lad, by the throat, thrown
him across the heel of the bowsprit, and was apparently determined to
strangle him to death. The chief mate was calling for assistance from
below, where he was struggling with the Guernsey man. The rest of the
crew were indifferent spectators but rather encouraging the foreigners
than otherwise. I presented a pistol at the head of the Frenchman, and
ordered him to release the second mate, which he instantly did. I then
ordered him into the fore top, and the others, who were near, into the
maintop, none to come down under pain of death, until ordered. The
steward had by this time brought another pair of pistols, with which I
armed the second mate, directing him to remain on deck; and went below
into the forecastle myself. I found that the chief mate had been
slightly wounded in two places by the knife of his antagonist, who,
however, ceased to resist as I made my appearance, and we immediately
secured him in irons. The search was now made, and a quantity of
liquor found and taken to the cabin. The rest of the men were then
called down from the tops, and the Frenchman was made the companion of
his coadjutor's confinement. I then expostulated, at some length, with
the others upon their improper and insubordinate conduct, and upon the
readiness with which they had suffered themselves to be drawn into
such courses by two rascally foreigners, and expressed hopes that I
should have no reason for further complaint during the rest of the
voyage. This remonstrance I thought had effect, as they appeared
contrite and promised amendment. They were then dismissed, and order
was restored.
The next day the foreigners strongly solicited pardon, with the most
solemn promises of future good conduct; and as the rest of the crew
joined in their request, I ordered that their irons should be taken
off. For several days the duties of the ship were performed to my
entire satisfaction; but I could discover in the countenances of the
foreigners, expressions of deep and rancorous animosity to the chief
mate, who was a prompt, energetic seaman, requiring from the sailors,
at all times, ready and implicit obedience to his orders.
A week perhaps had passed over in this way, when one night, in the mid
watch, all hands were called to shorten sail. Ordinarily upon
occasions of this kind, the duty was conducted by the mate, but I now
went upon deck myself and gave orders, sending him upon the
forecastle. The night was dark and squally; but the sea was not high,
and the ship was running off about nine knots, with the wind upon the
starboard quarter. The weather being very unpromising, the second reef
was taken in the fore and main topsails, the mizen handed and the fore
and mizen top gallant yards sent down. This done, one watch was
permitted to go below, and I prepared to betake myself to my birth
again, directing the mate, to whom I wished to give some orders,
should be sent to me. To my utter astonishment and consternation, word
was brought me, after a short time, that he was no where to be found.
I hastened upon deck, ordered all hands up again, and questioned every
man in the ship upon the subject; but they, with one accord, declared
that they had not seen the mate forward. Lanterns were then brought,
and every accessible part of the vessel was unavailingly searched. I
then, in the hearing of the whole crew, declared my belief that he
must have fallen overboard by accident, again dismissed one watch
below, and repaired to the cabin, in a state of mental agitation
impossible to be described. For notwithstanding the opinion which I
had expressed to the contrary, I could not but entertain strong
suspicions that the unfortunate man had met a violent death.
The second mate was a protegee of mine; and, as I have before
observed, was a very young man of not much experience as a seaman. I
therefore felt that, under critical circumstances, my main support had
fallen from me. It is needless to add, that a deep sense of
forlornness and insecurity was the result of these reflections.