The fleet under Admiral Rymelandt's command was ordered to proceed to
the East Indies by the western route, through the Straits of Magellan
into the Pacific Ocean--it being still imagined, notwithstanding
previous failures, that this route offered facilities which might
shorten the passage of the Spice Islands.
The vessels composing the fleet were the _Lion_ of forty-four guns,
bearing the Admiral's flag; the _Dort_ of thirty-six guns, with the
Commodore's pendant--to which Philip was appointed; the _Zuyder Zee_
of twenty; the _Young Frau_ of twelve, and a ketch of four guns,
called the _Schevelling_.
The crew of the _Vrow Katerina_ were divided between the two larger
vessels; the others, being smaller, were easier worked with fewer
hands. Every arrangement having been made, the boats were hoisted
up, and the ships made sail. For ten days they were baffled by light
winds, and the victims to the scurvy increased considerably on board
of Philip's vessel. Many died and were thrown overboard, and others
were carried down to their hammocks.
The newly-appointed Commodore, whose name was Avenhorn, went on board
of the Admiral, to report the state of the vessel, and to suggest, as
Philip had proposed to him, that they should make the coast of South
America, and endeavour, by bribery or by force, to obtain supplies
either from the Spanish inhabitants or the natives. But to this the
Admiral would not listen. He was an imperious, bold, and obstinate
man, not to be persuaded or convinced, and with little feeling for
the sufferings of others. Tenacious of being advised, he immediately
rejected a proposition which, had it originated with himself, would
probably have been immediately acted upon; and the Commodore returned
on board his vessel, not only disappointed, but irritated by the
language used towards him.
"What are we to do, Captain Vanderdecken? you know too well our
situation--it is impossible we can continue long at sea; if we do, the
vessel will be drifting at the mercy of the waves, while the crew die
a wretched death in their hammocks. At present, we have forty men
left; in ten days more we shall probably have but twenty; for as the
labour becomes more severe, so do they drop down the faster. Is it not
better to risk our lives in combat with the Spaniards, than die here
like rotten sheep?"
"I perfectly agree with you, Commodore," replied Philip; "but still we
must obey orders. The Admiral is an inflexible man."
"And a cruel one. I have a great mind to part company in the night,
and, if he finds fault, I will justify myself to the directors on my
return."
"Do nothing rashly--perhaps, when day by day he finds his own ship's
company more weakened, he will see the necessity of following your
advice."
A week had passed away after this conversation, and the fleet had made
little progress. In each ship the ravages of the fatal disease became
more serious, and, as the Commodore had predicted, he had but twenty
men really able to do duty. Nor had the Admiral's ship and the other
vessels suffered less. The Commodore again went on board to reiterate
his proposition.
Admiral Rymelandt was not only a stern, but a vindictive man. He
was aware of the propriety of the suggestion made by his second in
command, but, having refused it, he would not acquiesce; and he felt
revengeful against the Commodore, whose counsel he must now either
adopt, or by refusing it be prevented from taking the steps so
necessary for the preservation of his crew, and the success of his
voyage. Too proud to acknowledge himself in error, again did he
decidedly refuse, and the Commodore went back to his own ship. The
fleet was then within three days of the coast, steering to the
southward for the Straits of Magellan, and that night, after Philip
had retired to his cot, the Commodore went on deck and ordered the
course of the vessel to be altered some points more to the westward.
The night was very dark, and the _Lion_ was the only ship which
carried a poop-lantern, so that the parting company of the _Dort_ was
not perceived by the Admiral and the other ships of the fleet. When
Philip went on deck next morning, he found that their consorts were
not in sight. He looked at the compass, and, perceiving that the
course was altered, inquired at what hour and by whose directions.
Finding that it was by his superior officer, he of course said
nothing. When the Commodore came on deck, he stated to Philip that he
felt himself warranted in not complying with the Admiral's orders, as
it would have been sacrificing the whole ship's company. This was,
indeed, true.
In two days they made the land, and, running into the shore, perceived
a large town and Spaniards on the beach. They anchored at the mouth of
the river, and hoisted English colours, when a boat came on board to
ask them who they were and what they required? The Commodore replied
that the vessel was English, for he knew that the hatred of the
Spanish to the Dutch was so great that, if known to belong to that
nation, he would have had no chance of procuring any supplies, except
by force. He stated that he had fallen in with a Spanish vessel, a
complete wreck, from the whole of the crew being afflicted with the
scurvy; that he had taken the men out, who were now in their
hammocks below, as he considered it cruel to leave so many of his
fellow-creatures to perish, and that he had come out of his course to
land them at the first Spanish fort he could reach. He requested that
they would immediately send on board vegetables and fresh provisions
for the sick men, whom it would be death to remove, until after a few
days, when they would be a little restored; and added, that in return
for their assisting the Spaniards, he trusted the Governor would also
send supplies for his own people.
This well made-up story was confirmed by the officer sent on board by
the Spanish Governor. Being requested to go down below and see the
patients, the sight of so many poor fellows in the last stage of that
horrid disease--their teeth fallen out, gums ulcerated, bodies full
of tumours and sores--was quite sufficient, and, hurrying up from the
lower deck, as he would have done from a charnel-house, the officer
hastened on shore and made his report.
In two hours a large boat was sent off with fresh beef and vegetables
sufficient for three days' supply for the ship's company, and these
were immediately distributed among the men. A letter of thanks was
returned by the Commodore, stating that his health was so indifferent
as to prevent his coming on shore in person to thank the Governor, and
forwarding a pretended list of the Spaniards on board, in which he
mentioned some officers and people of distinction, whom he imagined
might be connected with the family of the Governor, whose name and
titles he had received from the messenger sent on board; for the Dutch
knew full well the majority of the noble Spanish families--indeed,
alliances had continually taken place between them, previous to their
assertion of their independence. The Commodore concluded his letter by
expressing a hope that, in a day or two, he should be able to pay his
respects and make arrangements for the landing of the sick, as he was
anxious to proceed on his voyage of discovery.
On the third day, a fresh supply of provisions was sent on board, and,
so soon as they were received, the Commodore, in an English uniform,
went on shore and called upon the Governor, gave a long detail of the
sufferings of the people he had rescued, and agreed that they should
be sent on shore in two days, and they would, by that time, be well
enough to be moved. After many compliments, he went on board, the
Governor having stated his intention to return his visit on the
following day, if the weather were not too rough. Fortunately, the
weather was rough for the next two days, and it was not until the
third that the Governor made his appearance. This was precisely what
the Commodore wished.
There is no disease, perhaps, so dreadful or so rapid in its effects
upon the human frame, and at the same time so instantaneously checked,
as the scurvy, if the remedy can be procured. A few days were
sufficient to restore those, who were not able to turn in their
hammocks, to their former vigour. In the course of the six days nearly
all the crew of the _Dort_ were convalescent and able to go on deck;
but still they were not cured. The Commodore waited for the arrival of
the Governor, received him with all due honours, and then, so soon
as he was in the cabin, told him very politely that he and all
his officers with him were prisoners. That the vessel was a Dutch
man-of-war, and that it was his own people, and not Spaniards, who had
been dying of the scurvy. He consoled him, however, by pointing out
that he had thought it preferable to obtain provisions by this _ruse_,
than to sacrifice lives on both sides by taking them by force, and
that his Excellency's captivity would endure no longer than until he
had received on board a sufficient number of live bullocks and fresh
vegetables to insure the recovery of the ship's company; and, in the
meantime, not the least insult would be offered to him. Whereupon the
Spanish Governor first looked at the Commodore and then at the file of
armed men at the cabin door, and then to his distance from the town;
and then called to mind the possibility of his being taken out to sea.
Weighing all these points in his mind, and the very moderate ransom
demanded (for bullocks were not worth a dollar apiece in that
country), he resolved, as he could not help himself, to comply with
the Commodore's terms. He called for pen and ink, and wrote an order
to send on board immediately all that was demanded. Before sunset the
bullocks and vegetables were brought off, and, so soon as they were
alongside, the Commodore, with many bows and many thanks, escorted the
Governor to the gangway, complimenting him with a salvo of great guns,
as he had done before, on his arrival. The people on shore thought
that his Excellency had paid a long visit, but, as he did not like to
acknowledge that he had been deceived, nothing was said about it at
least, in his hearing, although the facts were soon well known. As
soon as the boats were cleared, the Commodore weighed anchor and made
sail, well satisfied with having preserved his ship's company; and, as
the Falkland Islands, in case of parting company, had been named as
the rendezvous, he steered for them. In a fortnight he arrived, and
found that his Admiral was not yet there. His crew were now all
recovered, and his fresh beef was not yet expended, when he perceived
the Admiral and the three other vessels in the offing.
It appeared that so soon as the _Dort_ had parted company, the Admiral
had immediately acted upon the advice that the Commodore had given
him, and had run for the coast. Not being so fortunate in a _ruse_
as his second in command, he had landed an armed force from the four
vessels, and had succeeded in obtaining several head of cattle, at the
expense of an equal number of men killed and wounded. But at the same
time they had collected a large quantity of vegetables of one sort or
another, which they had carried on board and distributed with great
success to the sick, who were gradually recovering.
Immediately that the Admiral had anchored, he made the signal for
the Commodore to repair on board, and taxed him with disobedience of
orders in having left the fleet. The Commodore did not deny that he
had so done, but excused himself upon the plea of necessity, offering
to lay the whole matter before the Court of Directors so soon as they
returned; but the Admiral was vested with most extensive powers, not
only of the trial, but the _condemnation_ and punishment of any person
guilty of mutiny and insubordination in his fleet. In reply, he told
the Commodore that he was a prisoner, and, to prove it, he confined
him in irons under the half-deck.
A signal was then made for all the captains: they went on board, and
of course Philip was of the number. On their arrival the Admiral held
a summary court-martial, proving to them by his instructions that he
was so warranted to do. The result of the court-martial could be but
one,--condemnation for a breach of discipline, to which Philip was
obliged reluctantly to sign his name. The Admiral then gave Philip the
appointment of second in command, and the Commodore's pendant, much to
the annoyance of the captains commanding the other vessels,--but in
this the Admiral proved his judgment, as there was no one of them so
fit for the task as Philip. Having so done, he dismissed them. Philip
would have spoken to the late Commodore, but the sentry opposed it,
as against his orders; and with a friendly nod, Philip was obliged to
leave him without the desired communication.
The fleet remained three weeks at the Falkland Islands, to recruit the
ships' companies. Although there was no fresh beef, there was plenty
of scurvy-grass and penguins. These birds were in myriads on some
parts of the island, which, from the propinquity of their nests, built
of mud, went by the name of _towns_. There they sat, close together
(the whole area which they covered being bare of grass), hatching
their eggs and rearing their young. The men had but to select as many
eggs and birds as they pleased, and so numerous were they, that, when
they had supplied themselves, there was no apparent diminution of the
numbers. This food, although in a short time not very palatable to the
seamen, had the effect of restoring them to health, and, before the
fleet sailed, there was not a man who was afflicted with the scurvy.
In the meantime the Commodore remained in irons, and many were the
conjectures concerning his ultimate fate. The power of life and death
was known to be in the Admiral's hands, but no one thought that such
power would be exerted upon a delinquent of so high a grade. The other
captains kept aloof from Philip, and he knew little of what was the
general idea. Occasionally when on board of the Admiral's ship, he
ventured to bring up the question, but was immediately silenced; and
feeling that he might injure the late Commodore (for whom he had a
regard), he would risk nothing by importunity; and the fleet sailed
for the Straits of Magellan, without anybody being aware of what might
be the result of the court-martial.
It was about a fortnight after they had left the Falkland Islands,
that they entered the Straits. At first they had a leading wind which
carried them half through, but this did not last, and they then had to
contend not only against the wind, but against the current, and they
daily lost ground. The crews of the ships also began to sicken from
fatigue and cold. Whether the Admiral had before made up his mind, or
whether, irritated by his fruitless endeavours to continue his voyage,
it is impossible to say; but, after three weeks' useless struggle
against the wind and currents, he hove-to and ordered all the captains
on board, when he proposed that the prisoner should receive his
punishment--and that punishment was--_to be deserted_--that is, to be
sent on shore with a day's food, where there was no means of obtaining
support, so as to die miserably of hunger. This was a punishment
frequently resorted to by the Dutch at that period, as will be seen by
reading an account of their voyages: but, at the same time, seldom, if
ever, awarded to one of so high a rank as that of Commodore.
Philip immediately protested against it, and so did Krantz, although
they were both aware, that by so doing they would make the Admiral
their enemy; but the other captains, who viewed both of them with a
jealous eye, and considered them as interlopers and interfering with
their advancement, sided with the Admiral. Notwithstanding this
majority, Philip thought it his duty to expostulate.
"You know well, Admiral," said he, "that I joined in his condemnation
for a breach of discipline: but, at the same time, there was much in
extenuation. He committed a breach of discipline to save his ship's
company, but not an error in judgment, as you yourself proved, by
taking the same measure to save your own men. Do not, therefore, visit
an offence of so doubtful a nature with such cruelty. Let the Company
decide the point when you send him home, which you can do so soon
as you arrive in India. He is sufficiently punished by losing his
command: to do what you propose will be ascribed to feelings of
revenge more than to those of justice. What success can we deserve if
we commit an act of such cruelty; and how can we expect a merciful
Providence to protect us from the winds and waves when we are thus
barbarous towards each other?"
Philip's arguments were of no avail. The Admiral ordered him to return
on board his ship, and had he been able to find an excuse, he would
have deprived him of his command. This he could not well do; but
Philip was aware that the Admiral was now his inveterate enemy. The
Commodore was taken out of irons and brought into the cabin, and his
sentence was made known to him.
"Be it so, Admiral," replied Avenhorn; "for, to attempt to turn you
from your purpose, I know would be unavailing. I am not punished for
disobedience of orders, but for having, by my disobedience, pointed
out to you your duty--a duty which you were forced to perform
afterwards by necessity. Then be it so; let me perish on these black
rocks, as I shall, and my bones be whitened by the chilly blasts which
howl over their desolation. But mark me, cruel and vindictive man! I
shall not be the only one whose bones will bleach there. I prophesy
that many others will share my fate, and even you, Admiral, _may_ be
of the number,--if I mistake not, we shall lie side by side."
The Admiral made no reply, but gave a sign for the prisoner to be
removed. He then had a conference with the captains of the three
smaller vessels; and, as they had been all along retarded by the
heavier sailing of his own ship and the _Dort_ commanded by Philip, he
decided that they should part company, and proceed on as fast as they
could to the Indies--sending on board of the two larger vessels all
the provisions they could spare, as they already began to run short.
Philip had left the cabin with Krantz after the prisoner had been
removed. He then wrote a few lines upon a slip of paper--"Do not leave
the beach when you are put on shore, until the vessels are out of
sight;" and, requesting Krantz to find an opportunity to deliver this
to the Commodore, he returned on board of his own ship.
When the crew of the _Dort_ heard of the punishment about to be
inflicted upon their old Commander, they were much excited. They felt
that he had sacrificed himself to save them, and they murmured much at
the cruelty of the Admiral.
About an hour after Philip's return to his ship, the prisoner was sent
on shore and landed on the desolate and rocky coast, with a supply of
provisions for two days. Not a single article of extra clothing, or
the means of striking a light was permitted him. When the boat's keel
grazed the beach, he was ordered out. The boat shoved off, and the men
were not permitted even to bid him farewell.
The fleet, as Philip expected, remained hove-to, shifting the
provisions, and it was not till after dark that everything was
arranged. This opportunity was not lost. Philip was aware that it
would be considered a breach of discipline, but to that he was
indifferent; neither did he think it likely that it would come to the
ears of the Admiral, as the crew of the _Dort_ were partial both to
the Commodore and to him. He had desired a seaman whom he could trust,
to put into one of the boats a couple of muskets and a quantity of
ammunition, several blankets, and various other articles, besides
provisions for two or three months for one person, and, as soon as it
was dark, the men pulled on shore with the boat, found the Commodore
on the beach waiting for them, and supplied him with all these
necessaries. They then rejoined their ship, without the Admiral's
having the least suspicion of what had been done, and shortly after
the fleet made sail on a wind, with their heads off shore. The next
morning, the three smaller vessels parted company, and by sunset had
gained many miles to windward, after which they were not again seen.
The Admiral had sent for Philip to give him his instructions, which
were very severe, and evidently framed so as to be able to afford him
hereafter some excuse for depriving him of his command. Among others,
his orders were, as the _Dort_ drew much less water than the Admiral's
ship, to sail ahead of him during the night, that, if they approached
too near the land as they beat across the Channel, timely notice might
be given to the Admiral, if in too shallow water. This responsibility
was the occasion of Philip's being always on deck when they approached
the land of either side of the Straits. It was the second night after
the fleet had separated that Philip had been summoned on deck as they
were nearing the land of Terra del Fuego; he was watching the man in
the chains heaving the lead, when the officer of the watch reported
to him that the Admiral's ship was ahead of them instead of astern.
Philip made enquiry as to when he passed, but could not discover; he
went forward, and saw the Admiral's ship with her poop-light, which,
when the Admiral was astern, was not visible. "What can be the
Admiral's reason for this?" thought Philip; "has he run ahead on
purpose to make a charge against me of neglect of duty? it must be so.
Well, let him do as he pleases; he must wait now till we arrive
in India, for I shall not allow him to _desert_ me; and, with the
Company, I have as much, and I rather think, as a large proprietor,
more interest than he has. Well, as he has thought proper to go ahead,
I have nothing to do but follow. 'You may come out of the chains
there.'"
Philip went forward: they were now, as he imagined, very near to the
land, but the night was dark and they could not distinguish it. For
half an hour they continued their course, much to Philip's surprise,
for he now thought he could make out the loom of the land, dark as it
was. His eyes were constantly fixed upon the ship ahead, expecting
every minute that she would go about; but no, she continued her
course, and Philip followed with his own vessel.
"We are very close to the land, sir," observed Vander Hagen, the
lieutenant, who was the officer of the watch.
"So it appears to me: but the Admiral is closer, and draws much more
water than we do," replied Philip.
"I think I see the rocks on the beam to leeward, sir."
"I believe you are right," replied Philip: "I cannot understand this.
Ready about, and get a gun ready--they must suppose us to be ahead of
them, depend upon it."
Hardly had Philip given the order, when the vessel struck heavily on
the rocks. Philip hastened aft; he found that the rudder had been
unshipped, and the vessel was immovably fixed. His thoughts then
reverted to the Admiral. "Was he on shore?" He ran forward, and the
Admiral was still sailing on, with his poop-light, about two cables'
length ahead of him.
"Fire the gun, there," cried Philip, perplexed beyond measure.
The gun was fired, and immediately followed up by the flash and report
of another gun close astern of them. Philip looked with astonishment
over the quarter and perceived the Admiral's ship close astern to him,
and evidently on shore as well as his own.
"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Philip, rushing forward, "what can this
be?" He beheld the other vessel with her light ahead, still sailing on
and leaving them. The day was now dawning, and there was sufficient
light to make out the land. The _Dort_ was on shore not fifty yards
from the beach, and surrounded by the high and barren rocks; yet the
vessel ahead was apparently sailing on over the land. The seamen
crowded on the forecastle watching this strange phenomenon; at last it
vanished from their sight.
"That's the _Flying Dutchman_, by all that's holy!" cried one of the
seamen, jumping off the gun.
Hardly had the man uttered these words when the vessel disappeared.
Philip felt convinced that it was so, and he walked away aft in a very
perturbed state. It must have been his father's fatal ship which had
decoyed them to probable destruction. He hardly knew how to act. The
Admiral's wrath he did not wish, just at that moment, to encounter. He
sent for the officer of the watch, and, having desired him to select
a crew for the boat, out of those men who had been on deck, and could
substantiate his assertions, ordered him to go on board of the Admiral
and state what had happened.
As soon as the boat had shoved off, Philip turned his attention to
the state of his own vessel. The daylight had increased, and Philip
perceived that they were surrounded by rocks, and had run on shore
between two reefs, which extended half a mile from the mainland. He
sounded round his vessel, and discovered that she was fixed from
forward to aft, and that, without lightening her, there was no chance
of getting her off. He then turned to where the Admiral's ship lay
aground, and found that, to all appearance, she was in even a worse
plight, as the rocks to leeward of her were above the water, and she
was much more exposed, should bad weather come on. Never, perhaps, was
there a scene more cheerless and appalling: a dark wintry sky--a sky
loaded with heavy clouds--the wind cold and piercing--the whole
line of the coast one mass of barren rocks, without the slightest
appearance of vegetation; the inland part of the country presented
an equally sombre appearance, and the higher points were capped with
snow, although it was not yet the winter season. Sweeping the coast
with his eye, Philip perceived, not four miles to leeward of them (so
little progress had they made), the spot where they had _deserted_ the
Commodore.
"Surely this has been a judgment on him for his cruelty," thought
Philip, "and the prophecy of poor Avenhorn will come true--more bones
than his will bleach on those rocks." Philip turned round again to
where the Admiral's ship was on shore, and started back, as he beheld
a sight even more dreadful than all that he had viewed--the body of
Vander Hagen, the officer sent on board of the Admiral, hanging at the
main-yard-arm. "My God! is it possible?" exclaimed Philip, stamping
with sorrow and indignation.
His boat was returning on board, and Philip awaited it with
impatience. The men hastened up the side, and breathlessly informed
Philip that the Admiral, as soon as he had heard the Lieutenant's
report, and his acknowledgment that he was officer of the watch, had
ordered him to be hung, and that he had sent them back with a summons
for him to repair on board immediately, and that they had seen another
rope preparing at the other yard-arm.
"But not for you, sir," cried the men; "that shall never be--you shall
not go on board--and we will defend you with our lives."
The whole ship's company joined in this resolution, and expressed
their determination to resist the Admiral. Philip thanked them
kindly--stated his intention of not going on board, and requested
that they would remain quiet, until it was ascertained what steps the
Admiral might take. He then went down to his cabin, to reflect upon
what plan he should pursue. As he looked out of the stern-windows, and
perceived the body of the young man still swinging in the wind, he
almost wished that he was in his place, for then there would be an end
to his wayward fate: but he thought of Amine, and felt that, for her,
he wished to live. That the Phantom Ship should have decoyed him to
destruction was also a source of much painful feeling, and Philip
meditated, with his hands pressed to his temples. "It is my destiny,"
thought he at last, "and the will of Heaven must be done: we could not
have been so deceived if Heaven had not permitted it." And then his
thoughts reverted to his present situation.
That the Admiral had exceeded his powers in taking the life of the
officer was undeniable, as, although his instructions gave him power
of life and death, still it was only to be decided by the sentence of
the court-martial held by the captains commanding the vessels of the
fleet; he therefore felt himself justified in resistance. But Philip
was troubled with the idea that such resistance might lead to much
bloodshed; and he was still debating how to act, when they reported to
him that there was a boat coming from the Admiral's ship. Philip went
upon deck to receive the officer, who stated that it was the Admiral's
order that he should immediately come on board, and that he must
consider himself now under arrest, and deliver up his sword.
"No! no!" exclaimed the ship's company of the _Dort_. He shall not go
on board. We will stand by our Captain to the last."
"Silence, men! silence!" cried Philip. "You must be aware, sir," said
he to the officer, "that in the cruel punishment of that innocent
young man, the Admiral has exceeded his powers: and, much as I
regret to see any symptoms of mutiny and insubordination, it must be
remembered that, if those in command disobey the orders they have
received, by exceeding them, they not only set the example, but give
an excuse for those who otherwise would be bound to obey them, to do
the same. Tell the Admiral that his murder of that innocent man has
determined me no longer to consider myself under his authority, and
that I will hold myself, as well as him, answerable to the Company
whom we serve, for our conduct. I do not intend to go on board and
put myself in his power, that he might gratify his resentment by my
ignominious death. It is a duty that I owe these men under my command
to preserve my life, that I may, if possible, preserve theirs in this
strait; and you may also add, that a little reflection must point out
to him that this is no time for us to war with, but to assist each
other with all our energies. We are here, ship-wrecked on a barren
coast, with provisions insufficient for any lengthened stay, no
prospect of succour, and little of escape. As the Commodore truly
prophesied, many more are likely to perish as well as him--and even
the Admiral himself may be of the number. I shall wait his answer;
if he choose to lay aside all animosity, and refer our conduct to
a higher tribunal, I am willing to join with him in rendering that
assistance to each other which our situation requires--if not, you
must perceive, and of course will tell him, that I have those with me
who will defend me against any attempt at force. You have my answer,
sir, and may go on board."
The officer went to the gangway, but found that none of his crew,
except the bowman, were in the boat; they had gone up to gain from the
men of the _Dort_ the true history of what they had but imperfectly
heard: and, before they were summoned to return, had received full
intelligence. They coincided with the seamen of the _Dort_, that the
appearance of the Phantom Ship, which had occasioned their present
disaster, was a judgment upon the Admiral, for his conduct in having
so cruelly _deserted_ the poor Commodore.
Upon the return of the officer with Philip's answer, the rage of the
Admiral was beyond all bounds. He ordered the guns aft, which would
bear upon the _Dort_, to be double-shotted, and fired into her; but
Krantz pointed out to him that they could not bring more guns to bear
upon the _Dort_, in their present situation, than the _Dort_
could bring to bear upon them; that their superior force was thus
neutralised, and that no advantage could result from taking such a
step. The Admiral immediately put Krantz under arrest, and proceeded
to put into execution his insane intentions. In this he was, however,
prevented by the seamen of the _Lion_, who neither wished to fire upon
their consort, nor to be fired at in return. The report of the boat's
crew had been circulated through the ship, and the men felt too much
ill-will against the Admiral, and perceived at the same time the
extreme difficulty of their situation, to wish to make it worse. They
did not proceed to open mutiny, but they went down below, and when
the officers ordered them up, they refused to go upon deck; and the
officers, who were equally disgusted with the Admiral's conduct,
merely informed him of the state of the ship's company, without
naming individuals, so as to excite his resentment against any one
in particular. Such was the state of affairs when the sun went down.
Nothing had been done on board the Admiral's ship, for Krantz was
under arrest, and the Admiral had retired in a state of fury to his
cabin.
In the meantime Philip and the ship's company had not been idle--they
had laid an anchor out astern, and hove taut: they had started all
the water, and were pumping it out, when a boat pulled alongside, and
Krantz made his appearance on deck.
"Captain Vanderdecken, I have come to put myself under your orders, if
you will receive me--if not, render me your protection; for, as
sure as fate, I should have been hanged to-morrow morning, if I had
remained in my own ship. The men in the boat have come with the same
intention--that of joining you, if you will permit them."
Although Philip would have wished it had been otherwise, he could not
well refuse to receive Krantz, under the circumstances of the case. He
was very partial to him, and to save his life, which certainly was in
danger, he would have done much more. He desired that the boat's crew
should return; but when Krantz had stated to him what had occurred on
board the _Lion_, and the crew earnestly begged him not to send them
back to almost certain death, which their having effected the escape
of Krantz would have assured, Philip reluctantly allowed them to
remain.
The night was tempestuous, but the wind being now off shore, the water
was not rough. The crew of the _Dort_, under the directions of Philip
and Krantz, succeeded in lightening the vessel so much during the
night that the next morning they were able to haul her off, and found
that her bottom had received no serious injury. It was fortunate for
them that they had not discontinued their exertions, for the wind
shifted a few hours before sunrise, and by the time that they had
shipped their rudder, it came on to blow fresh down the Straits, the
wind being accompanied with a heavy swell.
The Admiral's ship still lay aground, and apparently no exertions were
used to get her off. Philip was much puzzled how to act: leave the
crew of the _Lion_ he could not; nor indeed could he refuse, or did he
wish to refuse the Admiral, if he proposed coming on board; but he now
made up his mind that it should only be as a passenger, and that he
would himself retain the command. At present he contented himself with
dropping his anchor outside, clear of the reef, where he was sheltered
by a bluff cape, under which the water was smooth, about a mile
distant from where the Admiral's ship lay on shore; and he employed
his crew in replenishing his water-casks from a rivulet close to where
the ship was anchored. He waited to see if the other vessel got off,
being convinced that if she did not some communication must soon take
place. As soon as the water was complete, he sent one of the boats to
the place where the Commodore had been landed, having resolved to take
him on board, if they could find him; but the boat returned without
having seen anything of him, although the men had clambered over the
hills to a considerable distance.
On the second morning after Philip had hauled his vessel off, they
observed that the boats of the Admiral's ship were passing and
repassing from the shore, landing her stores and provisions; and the
next day, from the tents pitched on shore, it was evident that she was
abandoned, although the boats were still employed in taking articles
out of her. That night it blew fresh, and the sea was heavy; the next
morning her masts were gone, and she turned on her broadside; she was
evidently a wreck, and Philip now consulted with Krantz how to act. To
leave the crew of the _Lion_ on shore was impossible: they must all
perish when the winter set in upon such a desolate coast. On the
whole, it was considered advisable that the first communication should
come from the other party, and Philip resolved to remain quietly at
anchor.
It was very plain that there was no longer any subordination among the
crew of the _Lion_, who were to be seen, in the day-time, climbing
over the rocks in every direction, and at night, when their large
fires were lighted, carousing and drinking. This waste of provisions
was a subject of much vexation to Philip. He had not more than
sufficient for his own crew, and he took it for granted that, so soon
as what they had taken on shore should be expended, the crew of the
_Lion_ would ask to be received on board of the _Dort_.
For more than a week did affairs continue in this state, when, one
morning, a boat was seen pulling towards the ship, and, in the
stern-sheets Philip recognised the officer who had been sent on board
to put him under arrest. When the officer came on deck, he took off
his hat to Philip.
"You do, then, acknowledge me as in command," observed Philip.
"Yes, sir, most certainly; you were second in command, but now you are
first--for the Admiral is dead."
"Dead!" exclaimed Philip; "and how?"
"He was found dead on the beach, under a high cliff, and the body
of the Commodore was in his arms; indeed, they were both grappled
together. It is supposed, that in his walk up to the top of the hill,
which he used to take every day, to see if any vessels might be in
the Straits, he fell in with the Commodore--that they had come to
contention, and had both fallen over the precipice together. No one
saw the meeting, but they must have fallen over the rocks, as the
bodies are dreadfully mangled."
On inquiry, Philip ascertained that all chance of saving the _Lion_
had been lost after the second night, when she had beat in her
larboard streak, and had six feet of water in the hold--that the crew
had been very insubordinate, and had consumed almost all the spirits;
and that not only all the sick had already perished, but also
many others who had either fallen over the rocks when they were
intoxicated, or had been found dead in the morning, from their
exposure during the night.
"Then the poor Commodore's prophecy has been fulfilled!" observed
Philip to Krantz. "Many others, and even the Admiral himself, have
perished with him--peace be with them! And now let us get away from
this horrible place as soon as possible."
Philip then gave orders to the officer to collect his men, and the
provisions that remained, for immediate embarkation. Krantz followed
soon after with all the boats, and before night everything was on
board. The bodies of the Admiral and Commodore were buried where they
lay, and the next morning the _Dort_ was under weigh, and, with a
slanting wind, was laying a fair course through the Straits.