Conclusion
It is with a thousand different sensations that I write the word
_conclusion_. It recalls to my mind all that has passed. God is good!
God is merciful! is the reigning sentiment in my heart: I have so
many reasons for heartfelt gratitude to a gracious Providence, that I
hope the reader will pardon me for the disorder in which I finish my
story.
It was toward the end of the rainy season, the wind had lost its
violence, and a patch of blue sky could now and then be seen; our
pigeons had quitted the dove-cot, and we ourselves ventured to open
the door of the grotto, and taste the fresh air.
Our first care was for our gardens, which had suffered injury; we
took account of the damage as well as we were able, and then set out
for our more distant possessions. Fritz and Jack proposed to make an
excursion to Shark Island, to inspect our fort and colony there. I
consented, and they set off in the cajack.
My sons, on their arrival, having examined the interior of the fort,
and assured themselves that nothing of importance was damaged, began
to look round and see if anything appeared on the horizon, but all
was blank. Wishing to see whether the cannons were in good order,
they began firing away, as if they had all the powder in the world
at their command. But what was their astonishment and emotion when,
a moment after, they heard distinctly three reports of a cannon in
the distance! They could not be mistaken, for a faint light toward
the east preceded each report. After a short consultation as to what
should be done, the two brothers resolved to hasten home and recount
their adventure to us.
We had heard the reports of the cannons they had fired, and we could
not imagine why they were hurrying back so fast. I called out, as
loud as I could, “Halloo, there! what is the matter?” On they came,
and, jumping on shore, fell into my arms, faintly articulating, “Oh,
papa, papa, did you not hear them?”
“Hear what?” said I. “We have heard nothing but the noise your waste
of powder made.”
“You have not heard three other reports in the distance?”
“No.”
“Why, we heard them plainly and distinctly.”
“It was the echo,” said Ernest.
This remark nettled Jack a little, and he replied rather sharply--
“No, Mr. Doctor, it wasn’t the echo; I think I have fired cannons
enough in my lifetime to know whether that was an echo or not. We
distinctly heard three reports of a cannon, and we are certain that
some ship is sailing in this part of the world.”
“If there is really a ship on our coasts,” said I, “who knows whether
it is manned by Europeans or by Malay pirates--who knows whether
we ought to rejoice or be sorry at its presence, and that, instead
of preparing for deliverance, we should not make preparations for
defence?”
My first resolution was to organize a system of defence, and provide
for our safety. We watched alternately under the gallery of the
grotto, so that we could be ready in case of surprise; but the night
passed quietly away, and in the morning the rain commenced, and
continued so violently during two long days that it was impossible
for us to go out.
On the third day the sun reappeared. Fritz and Jack, full of
impatience, resolved to return to Shark Island, and try a new signal.
I consented; but, instead of the cajack, we took the canoe, and I
went with them. On arriving at the fort we hoisted our flag, while
Jack, ever impatient, loaded a cannon and fired it; but scarcely had
the report died away in the distance, when we distinctly heard a
louder answering report in the direction of Cape Disappointment.
Jack could not contain himself for joy. “Men, men,” cried he, dancing
about us; “men, papa; are you sure of it now?” And his enthusiasm
communicating itself to us, we hoisted another and a larger flag on
our flag-staff. Six other reports followed the first one we had heard.
Overpowered with emotion, we hastened to our boat, and were soon in
the presence of the family. They had not heard the seven reports, but
they had seen our two flags flying, and they were eagerly waiting for
circumstantial news.
I ordered that everything in the grotto should be put in a place
of safety. My three youngest sons, my wife and Emily, set off for
Falcon’s Nest with our cattle, and I embarked in the cajack with
Fritz, to reconnoitre. It was near midday when we set out; we
coasted along without discovering anything, and the illusion of the
moment began to dissipate. On more calm reflection, however, the
certainty that we had heard the seven reports of the cannon kept up
our courage; when suddenly, on doubling a little promontory which
had hitherto concealed it from us, we beheld a fine European ship
majestically reposing at anchor, with a long-boat at the side, and an
English flag floating at the masthead.
I seek in vain to find words that will express the sentiments which
filled our souls. We elevated our hands and eyes toward heaven, and
thus returned our thanks to God for His great beneficence. If I
had permitted it, Fritz would have thrown himself into the sea and
swum off to the ship; but I was afraid that, notwithstanding the
English flag, the vessel before us might be a Malay corsair, which
had assumed false colours in order to deceive other vessels. We
remained at a distance, not liking to venture nearer without being
more certain what it was. We could see all that was passing on board
the vessel. Two tents had been raised on the shore, tables were laid
for dinner, quarters of meat were roasting before blazing fires, men
were running to and fro, and the whole scene had the appearance of an
organized encampment. Two sentinels were on the deck of the vessel,
and when they perceived us they spoke to the officer on duty who
stood near, and who turned his telescope toward us.
“They are Europeans,” cried Fritz; “you can easily judge from the
face of the officer. Malays certainly would be more dusky than that.”
Fritz’s remark was true; but yet I did not like to go too near. We
remained in the bay, manœuvring our canoe with all the dexterity of
which we were capable. We sang a Swiss mountain song, and when we
had finished I cried out through my speaking-trumpet these three
words, _Englishmen, good men!_ But no answer was returned: our song,
our cajack, and more than all our costume, I expect, marked us for
savages, from the officer making signs to us to approach, and holding
up knives, scissors, and glass beads, for which the savages of the
New World are generally so desirous. This mistake made us laugh; but
we did not approach, as we wished to present ourselves before them
in better trim. We contented ourselves with exclaiming once more,
_Englishmen_, and then darted off as fast as our boat could carry us.
We passed a whole day in preparing the pinnace, and loading it with
presents for the captain, as we wished him to see that those whom
he had taken for savages were beings far advanced in the arts of
civilization. We set off at sunrise; the weather was magnificent, and
we sailed gallantly along, Fritz preceding us as pilot.
When we could clearly distinguish the ship, a sensation of vivid
joy was experienced by us all: my sons were dumb with pleasure and
eagerness.
“Hoist the English flag,” cried I in the voice of a Stentor; and a
second after, a flag similar to the one on the ship fluttered from
our masthead.
If we were filled with extraordinary emotions on seeing a European
ship, the English were not less astonished to see a little boat with
flowing sails coming toward them. Guns were now fired from the ship
and answered from our pinnace, and joining Fritz in his cajack, we
approached the English ship to welcome the captain to our shores.
The captain received us with that frankness and cordiality that
always distinguish sailors; and conducted us to the cabin, where a
flask of Cape wine cemented the alliance between us.
I recounted to the captain, as briefly as possible, the history of
our shipwreck, and our sojourn of ten years on this coast. I spoke
to him of Emily, and asked him if he had ever heard of her father,
Sir Edward Montrose. The captain not only knew him, but it was a
part of his instructions to explore these latitudes, where, three
years before, the ship _Dorcas_, which had on board the daughter
of Commander Montrose, was supposed to have been wrecked, and to
try to discover whether any tidings of the vessel or crew could be
ascertained. In consequence, he manifested the greatest desire to see
her, and assure her that her father was alive. He informed us that a
tempest of four days’ duration had thrown him off the course which he
followed for Sydney and New Holland; and thus he had been driven on
this coast, where he had renewed his wood and water. “It was then,”
added he, “that we heard the reports of cannon, which we answered;
on the third day new discharges convinced us that we were not alone
on the coast, and we resolved to wait until, by some means or other,
we discovered who were our companions in misfortune. But we find an
organized colony, and a maritime power, whose alliance I solicit in
the name of the sovereign of Great Britain.”
This last sally made us laugh, and we cordially pressed the hand
which Captain Littleton extended to us.
The rest of the family were waiting some distance off in the pinnace.
We took leave of the captain, who, ordering his gig to be manned,
arrived on board our vessel almost as soon as we did. We received him
with every demonstration of joy and friendship, and Emily was half
wild with happiness at the sight of a fellow-countryman, and one who
brought intelligence of her father.
The captain brought with him an English family, whom the fatigues
of the passage had rendered ill, consisting of Mr. Wolston, a
distinguished machinist, his wife, and two daughters. My wife offered
Mrs. Wolston her assistance, and promised her that her family should
find every comfort and convenience at Felsenheim if they would return
with us. They gladly consented, and we set out with them, taking
leave of the captain, who did not like to pass the night away from
his ship.
My readers can form an idea of the astonishment which was evinced
by the Wolston family on seeing all our establishments. We
ostentatiously pointed out to them Felsenheim with its rocky vault,
the giant-tree of Falcon’s Nest, Prospect Hill, and all the marvels
which were comprised in our domains. A frugal repast in the evening
united both families under the gallery of the grotto, and my wife
prepared, in the interior, apartments and beds to receive the
new-comers.
The next morning Mr. Wolston came up to me, and tenderly stretching
out his hand, spoke as follows--
“Sir,” said he, “I cannot express all the admiration that I feel on
regarding the wonders with which you are surrounded. The hand of
God has been with you, and here you live happily, far away from the
strife of the world, among the works of creation, alone with your
family. I came from England to seek repose: where can I find it
better than here? and I shall esteem myself the happiest of men if
you will allow me to establish myself in a corner of your domains.”
This proposition of Mr. Wolston filled me with joy, and I immediately
assured him that I would willingly share with him the half of my
patriarchal empire.
Mr. Wolston hastened to communicate to his wife the success of his
application, and the morning was devoted to the joy and pleasure that
this news caused. But considerations of a painful nature occupied
my mind: the ship which now presented itself was the second only we
had seen in ten years, and probably as long a period might elapse
before another appeared, should we let Captain Littleton and his
ship leave us without any addition to his crew. These questions
affected the dearest interests of our family. My wife did not wish
to return to Europe; I was myself too much attached to my new life
to leave it, and we were both at an age when hazards and dangers
have no attraction, and ambition has resolved itself into a desire
for repose. But our children were young, their life was but just
commencing, and I did not think it right to deprive them of the
advantages which civilization and a contact with the world presented;
and then again, Emily, since she had heard that her father was in
England, did not conceal her desire to return; and although we
regretted losing this amiable girl, yet it was impossible to detain
her. So at last I decided to call my children together, and ascertain
their sentiments. I spoke to them of civilized Europe, of the
resources of every kind which society offered to its members, and I
asked them if they would depart with Captain Littleton, or be content
to pass the remainder of their lives upon this coast.
Jack and Ernest declared that they would rather remain. Ernest, the
philosopher, had no need of the world to interrupt his studies; and
Jack, the hunter, found the domain of Falcon’s Nest large enough for
his excursions. Fritz was silent, but I saw by his countenance that
he had decided to go. I encouraged him to speak; he confessed that
he had a great desire to return to Europe, and his younger brother,
Francis, declared that he would willingly accompany him.
Mr. Wolston also dismembered his family: he kept but one of
his daughters; the other went on to New Holland. These family
arrangements were very painful, and when they were finished I
hastened to inform the captain of the _Unicorn_. He readily consented
to take our three passengers.
“I resign three persons,” said he, “Mr. and Mrs. Wolston and one of
their daughters; I take three more, and my complement will not be
affected.”
The _Unicorn_ remained eight days at anchor, and we employed them
in preparing the cargo which was to be the fortune of our voyagers
on arriving in Europe. All the riches that we had amassed--pearls,
ivory, spices, furs, and all our rare productions, were carefully
packed and put on board the ship, which we also furnished with meat
and fruits.
On the eve of their departure, after having exhausted myself in a
last conversation, in which I advised my sons always to carry out
the principles in which they had been instructed, and so to live
in this world that we might, through the merits of our Saviour, be
united in the next, I gave Fritz this narration of our shipwreck and
establishment on the desert coast, enjoining him expressly to have
it published as soon after his arrival as he possibly could; and
this desire on my part, exempt from all vanity of authorship, had
for its only object and hope that it might be useful to others as a
lesson of morality, patience, courage, perseverance, and of Christian
submission to the will of God. Perhaps some day a father may take
courage from the manner in which we supported our tribulations;
perhaps some young person will see, in the course of this narrative,
the value of a varied education and the importance of becoming
acquainted with first principles.
I have not written this as a learned man would have done, and all my
results may not have been arrived at according to the correct theory;
but we were in an extraordinary position, and were obliged to depend
on our own resources. We placed our entire trust in the mercy of God;
and He ever watched over and protected us.
We none of us slept much during the last night. At the dawn of day
the cannon of the ship announced the order to go on board. We
conducted our children to the shore; there they received our last
embraces and benedictions.
* * * * *
The anchor has been weighed, the sails unfurled, the flag run up to
the mast-head, and a rapid wind promises speedily to separate us from
our children.
I will not attempt to paint the grief of my dear Elizabeth--it is the
grief of a mother, silent and profound. Jack and Ernest are weeping
bitterly, and my own grief and heartfelt sorrow is, I must confess,
but badly concealed.
I finish these few lines whilst the ship’s boat is waiting. My sons
will thus receive my last blessing. May God ever be with you. Adieu,
Europe! adieu, dear Switzerland! Never shall I see you again! May
your inhabitants be always happy, pious, and free!
THE END
Transcriber’s Note:
Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent
hyphenation. Obsolete and archaic spelling was not changed. Nine
misspelled words were corrected.
Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the
end of the chapter. Missing and excess punctuation was corrected.
Duplicate letters at line endings were removed; unprinted letters were
added. Words duplicated over line breaks were deleted.