BYRON'S NARRATIVE
OF THE LOSS OF
THE WAGER
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT
DISTRESSES SUFFERED BY HIMSELF AND HIS COMPANIONS
ON THE COAST OF PATAGONIA FROM THE YEAR 1740 TILL
THEIR ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND 1746
LONDON
HENRY LEGGATT & CO 85 CORNHILL
MDCCCXXXII
LONDON:
PRINTED BY BRADBURY AND EVANS,
BOUVERIE STREET.
ADVERTISEMENT.
At a time when every thing connected with the name of Byron is regarded
with such general interest, it is a subject of surprise and regret that
no popular edition should exist of the Narrative of Commodore Byron.
Indeed, to procure any copy at all of the work requires some research
and trouble. To supply this deficiency is the object of the present
publishers.
To the admirers of the illustrious Poet, the Narrative of the
sufferings of his grandfather will, on more than one account,
be acceptable. In the Poems, it is often, whether humorously or
pathetically, alluded to; for instance, in the mournfully beautiful
stanzas to his sister, written soon after he left England for the last
time, he says,
"A strange doom is thy father's son's, and past
Recalling, as it lies beyond redress;
Reversed for him _our grandsire's fate_ of yore,
He had _no rest at sea_, nor I on shore!"
Again, in a different mood, in Don Juan, after having carried his hero
through the horrors of a shipwreck, as disastrous and fatal in itself
and its consequences as his imagination could conceive, he observes--
"----for none
Had suffered more--his hardships were comparative
To those related in my grand-dad's Narrative."
To which passage he appends the following note:--"Admiral Byron was
remarkable for never making a voyage without a tempest. He was known
to the sailors by the facetious name of 'foul-weather Jack.'" Indeed,
to this narrative the poet is indebted for many of the incidents in
that surpassing description of "the dangers of the sea." The awful
"whispering" in which, according to the Admiral, the men communicated
their first horrid thoughts of putting one of their number to death for
the support of the rest, is admirably preserved and amplified in Don
Juan:
"At length one whispered his companion, who
Whispered another, and thus it went round,
And then into a hoarser murmur grew,
An ominous and wild, and desperate sound,
And then his comrade's thought each sufferer knew,
'Twas but his own, suppressed till now, he found:
And out they spoke of lots for flesh and blood,
And who should die to be his fellow's food."
The germ of the conception of the cave-scenes, so beautifully described
in the poem, will also be found here; the fondness of Juan for his
favourite dog, the voracity with which he devoured the long-withheld
food, and many other incidents, were suggested by this Narrative.[1]
[FOOTNOTE 1:
Captain Inglefield's account of the loss of the Centaur, (in
September, 1782), furnished Byron with many of those trivial incidents,
which, as the poet well knew, render a story, to use Gibbon's words,
"circumstancial and animated," instead of "vague and languid;" the
"eternal difference between fiction and truth." The behaviour of the
sailors before the sinking of the ship; some lashing themselves in
their hammocks, some putting on their best clothes; the sail made
of blankets; the ragged piece of sheet with which they caught the
rain-water; the words used by the man who first saw the land, &c. &c.,
are all faithfully copied or slightly altered from Inglefield.]
To those who would study the character of Lord Byron; discover what
qualities of his nature were derived from his ancestors, and what were
peculiarly his own; who would trace the effect produced on his writings
by early tastes, habits, and associations, the narrative will afford
ample material for observation.
Mr. Moore,--who, in paying to genius that tribute which genius alone
can fully pay, has shewn how thoroughly he understood the character
of the poet (a character, perhaps, after all to be _felt_ rather than
_explained_), how well he appreciated his virtues and the peculiar
circumstances attendant on genius, which palliate, if they do not
excuse, his foibles,--remarks, that Lord Byron "strikingly combined,
in his own nature, some of the best and perhaps worst qualities that
lie scattered through the various characters of his predecessors;
the generosity, the love of enterprise, the high-mindedness of some
of the better spirits of his race, with the irregular passions, the
eccentricity, and daring recklessness of the world's opinion, that so
much characterised others." In the character then of the most famous
of those "better spirits," as exemplified in his own narrative of his
sufferings and adventures, we may discern the source of many of the
amiable qualities which descended to and adorned the immortal poet.
We shall observe in both the same frankness, generosity, affability,
love of excitement, the same mildness, and unassuming modesty. But
the contrasts of their characters we shall find even more striking
than the resemblances. We shall see in the sailor the ease and
contentedness of spirit arising from its agreement with the sphere
it moves in--the soul harmonizing with the situation--the man with
the circumstances--the Supply equivalent to the Demand. We shall see
in the poet the "high instincts of a creature moving about in worlds
not realized"--the large expectancies, the high anticipations,
unfulfilled and unanswered; the discontent, the jarring of a being not
_at one_ with the place of its existence, panting for something above
it, aspiring "beyond the fitting medium of desire." We shall see him
inordinately yearning after affection and happiness, yet enveloped,
as it were, in a nervous network of sensibility, feelingly alive to
every the faintest manifestation of slight, neglect, unkindness,--to
all that causes sorrow and pain: we shall see the co-existence of
these qualities producing necessarily disappointment and disgust; the
very capability of enjoying the good, unfitting him for the endurance
of the ill; the power of imagination heightening the beauties of the
ideal, the keenness of perception aggravating the defects of the real;
the consequent struggles for existence in a wounded spirit between
"feelings unemployed," affections unreturned, and the bitterness
or apathy they engender--between original benevolence and acquired
misanthropy. We shall see the sailor habitually yielding himself to
the guidance and authority of others, unhesitatingly acknowledging,
and, as a matter of course, complying with, the established relations,
laws, and customs of society; submitting without repining, question,
or surprise, to the vicissitudes of fortune; patient of hardship,
uncomplaining of Circumstance. The poet, from the pride of Mind,
accustomed ever to decide for itself, to act and reflect always,
obstinately questioning even Destiny and Fate; bidding haughty
defiance to their Ruler, or yielding with sullen indifference or
gloomy repining; if confessing the necessity of compliance, hardly
resigned. We shall find the sailor sustaining his cheerfulness in
every situation; the poet, plunging, perhaps from constitutional
melancholy, into misery; acted upon by that strong attraction, that
irresistible impulse towards the dark and the sad, that capability,
strikingly described by himself, of "learning to love despair." We
shall see throughout the difference between the continual presence and
the comparative absence of consciousness, that power by which Self,
rising as it were above itself, makes itself the subject of microscopic
observation. In the writings especially, of each, we shall observe
the operations of these opposite properties. The sailor writes on,
unaware and thoughtless of the effect of what he writes: the poet,
in his letters particularly, seems to know intuitively the effect on
others of every word he sets down; he reads their thoughts, he hears
their remarks as he writes; and this knowledge, so immediate that its
effects on his style seem almost unintentional, continually modifies
his expressions, giving the appearance of affectation to what is
no more than a natural result of his quick perception and extreme
sensitiveness. In every action, too, of the poet, important or trivial,
the working of this principle, so hard to be discovered in the sailor,
is equally evident. He looks always to the effect: nothing seems done
solely for itself: the love of admiration, of being remarkable, of
standing alone, however disguised, may almost always be detected.
Finally, we shall not fail to observe throughout, the contrast
between the single and the "many-sided" mind; between the ordinary
and the extraordinary; between the Mortal made immortal by force of
circumstances; the Immortal, in spite of circumstances, asserting and
maintaining his inborn immortality.
Yet, enhanced as the interest attaching to this narrative is, by the
connection of its author with one of the greatest of the master-minds
of these latter days, it is a work which of itself may well demand
and obtain our attention and regard. The incidents it relates are
peculiarly of that complexion which has caused it to be remarked (as
Byron himself has somewhere) that Fiction, however wonderful, must
often yield to Truth. It is a striking specimen of the romance of real
life. The spectacle of a member of an old and noble family, accustomed
to the comforts and luxuries that attend high birth, reduced to the
necessity, at one time, of beating his _shirt_ in order to crush the
vermin it was useless to attempt to get rid of by washing; and at
another, of making a meal (eagerly, as he himself confesses,) of the
putrid remains of a favourite dog, is as well calculated to excite the
curiosity of the observer of mankind as to gratify the taste of the
reader of romance. And if the extraordinary nature of the incidents
themselves arouse our wonder, the manner in which they are related will
insure and fix our sympathy. The simple, unaffected style, slightly
tinged with the quaintness of old phraseology; the total absence of
any thing like striving after effect; the apparent unconsciousness of
the narrator that he must be the object of admiration or pity; the
freedom from all attempts to disguise some feelings, or to affect and
assume others; the modesty, the frankness, which characterize this
narration, while they give additional interest to the work itself,
afford indisputable testimony to the amiableness of the author. To
have imitated so correctly this natural style, is one of the highest
triumphs of the genius of Defoe, in his romance of Robinson Crusoe.
Considered, then, either as an useful appendage to the Works and Life
of Byron; as an aid in forming an estimate of his character; or as
an account of sufferings and adventures which would appear suitable
rather to a romance than to a journal of events actually experienced;
an illustration of the strange vicissitudes human life may undergo, of
the extremities and hardships human nature may bear; or, in short, as a
specimen of simple and beautiful writing, this work can scarcely fail
of affording delight and gratification to the reader.
JOHN BYRON, the second son of William, the fourth Lord Byron, by his
third wife, was born at Newstead Abbey, November 8th, 1723, and at an
early age entered as a midshipman in the British navy. He still held
that rank in 1740, when the expedition to the South Sea against the
Spaniards took place under the command of Commodore Anson. The Wager,
Captain Cheap, to which Mr. Byron belonged, was separated from the rest
of the squadron, and wrecked on a desert island to the southward of
Chiloe (47° south lat.) After encountering the most dreadful sufferings
from famine, a small number of the crew, including the Captain and
Mr. Byron, reached the isle of Chiloe, and surrendered themselves
prisoners to the Spaniards. They were afterwards removed to Chili,
and detained some time at Valparaiso and St. Jago; but were at length
allowed to return to England, where they arrived after an absence of
more than five years. At a subsequent period, Mr. Byron published
his "Narrative." The young seaman was not deterred by his misfortunes
from pursuing his naval career; he returned to the service of his
country, and commanded the America, in Boscawen's action off Cape
Lagos, August 18, 1759. His skill and enterprising spirit afterwards
occasioned his appointment to the command of an expedition fitted out
to make discoveries in the South Sea.[2] He sailed from England, June
21st, 1764, and having circumnavigated the globe, returned home in
May, 1766. Several islands were explored in this voyage, which were
afterwards visited by Bougainville and Cooke; and experiments were
also made to determine the accuracy of Harrison's time-keeper, and
its consequent value as a means of ascertaining the longitude. This
officer subsequently was made an admiral, and commanded in the West
Indies during the American war. Admiral Byron was much beloved in the
navy, more so, perhaps, than any other officer except Nelson. He died
in 1798, leaving one son, John, who dying before his uncle, Lord Byron,
the title of the latter descended to his only son, George Gordon, the
poet.
[FOOTNOTE 2:
Byron's ship in this expedition was the Dolphin: she was the second
ship ever coppered in the British navy.]
BYRON'S NARRATIVE
OF THE
_Loss of the Wager._
The equipment and destination of the squadron fitted out in the year
1740, of which Commodore Anson had the command, being sufficiently
known from the ample and well-penned relation of it under his
direction, I shall recite no particulars that are to be found in
that work. But it may be necessary, for the better understanding the
disastrous fate of the Wager, the subject of the following sheets, to
repeat the remark, that a strange infatuation seemed to prevail in the
whole conduct of this embarkation. For though it was unaccountably
detained till the season for its sailing was past, no proper use was
made of that time, which should have been employed in providing a
suitable force of sailors and soldiery; nor was there a due attention
given to other requisites for so peculiar and extensive a destination.
This neglect not only rendered the expedition abortive in its principal
object, but most materially affected the condition of each particular
ship; and none so fatally as the Wager, which being an old Indiaman
brought into the service on this occasion, was now fitted out as a
man of war; but being made to serve as a store ship, was deeply laden
with all kinds of careening geer, military and other stores, for the
use of the other ships; and, what is more, crowded with bale goods,
and encumbered with merchandise. A ship of this quality and condition
could not be expected to work with that readiness and ease which was
necessary for her security and preservation in those heavy seas with
which she was to encounter. Her crew consisted of men pressed from
long voyages to be sent upon a distant and hazardous service: on the
other hand, all her land-forces were no more than a poor detachment of
infirm and decrepid invalids from Chelsea hospital, desponding under
the apprehensions of a long voyage. It is not then to be wondered,
that Captain Kid, under whose command the ship sailed out of the port,
should in his last moments presage her ill success, though nothing very
material happened during his command.
At his death he was succeeded by Captain Cheap, who still, without any
accident, kept company with the squadron till we had almost gained
the southernmost mouth of Straits Le Maire; when, being the sternmost
ship, we were, by the sudden shifting of the wind to the southward,
and the turn of the tide, very near being wrecked upon the rocks of
Staten Land; which, notwithstanding, having weathered, contrary to the
expectation of the rest of the squadron, we endeavoured all in our
power to make up our lost way and regain our station. This we effected,
and proceeded on our voyage, keeping company with the rest of the ships
for some time; when, by a great roll of a hollow sea, we carried away
our mizen mast, all the chain plates to windward being broken. Soon
after, hard gales at west coming on with a prodigious swell, there
broke a heavy sea in upon the ship, which stove our boats, and filled
us for some time.
These accidents were the more disheartening, as our carpenter was on
board the Gloucester, and detained there by the incessant tempestuous
weather, and sea impracticable for boats. In a few days he returned,
and supplied the loss of the mizen-mast by a lower studding-sail boom;
but this expedient, together with the patching up of our rigging, was
a poor temporary relief to us. We were soon obliged to cut away our
best bower anchor to ease the fore-mast, the shrouds and chain plates
of which were all broken, and the ship in all parts in a most crazy
condition.
Thus shattered and disabled, a single ship, (for we had now lost sight
of our squadron) we had the additional mortification to find ourselves
bearing for the land on a lee shore, having thus far persevered in
the course we held, from an error in conjecture; for the weather was
unfavourable for observation, and there are no charts of that part
of the coast. When those officers who first perceived their mistake,
endeavoured to persuade the captain to alter his course, and bear
away, for the greater surety, to the westward, he persisted in making
directly, as he thought, for the island of Socoro; and to such as dared
from time to time to deliver their doubts of being entangled with the
land stretching to the westward, he replied, that he thought himself in
no case at liberty to deviate from his orders; and that the absence of
his ship from the first place of rendezvous, would entirely frustrate
the whole squadron in the first object of their attack, and possibly
decide upon the fortune of the whole expedition. For the better
understanding the force of his reasoning, it is necessary to explain,
that the island of Socoro is in the neighbourhood of Baldivia, the
capture of which place could not be effected without the junction of
that ship, which carried the ordnance and military stores.
The knowledge of the great importance of giving so early and unexpected
a blow to the Spaniards, determined the captain to make the shortest
way to the point in view; and that rigid adherence to orders from which
he thought himself in no case at liberty to depart, begot in him a
stubborn defiance of all difficulties, and took away from him those
apprehensions, which so justly alarmed all such as, from an ignorance
of the orders, had nothing present to their minds but the dangers of a
lee shore.[3]
[FOOTNOTE 3:
Captain Cheap has been suspected of a design of going on the
Spanish coast without the Commodore; but no part of his conduct seems
to authorise, in the least, such a suspicion. The author who brings
this heavy charge against him, is equally mistaken in imagining that
Captain Cheap had not instructions to sail to this island, and that
the Commodore did neither go nor send thither, to inform himself if
any of the squadron were there. This appears from the orders delivered
to the captains of the squadron, the day before they sailed from St.
Catherine's (L. Anson's Voyage, B.I.C. 6.); from the orders of the
council of war held on board the Centurion, in the bay of St. Julian,
(C. 7.); and from the conduct of the Commodore (C. 10.) who cruized
(with the utmost hazard) more than a fortnight off the isle of Socoro,
and along the coast in its neighbourhood. It was the second rendezvous
at Baldivia, and not that at Socoro, that the Commodore was forced by
necessity to neglect.]
We had for some time been sensible of our approach to the land, from
no other tokens than those of weeds and birds, which are the usual
indications of nearing the coast; but at length we had an imperfect
view of an eminence, which we conjectured to be one of the mountains
of the Cordilleras. This, however, was not so distinctly seen but
that many conceived it to be the effect of imagination: but if the
captain was persuaded of the nearness of our danger, it was now too
late to remedy it; for at this time the straps of the fore jeer
blocks breaking, the fore-yard came down; and the greatest part of
the men being disabled through fatigue and sickness, it was some time
before it could be got up again. The few hands who were employed in
this business now plainly saw the land on the larboard beam, bearing
N.W., upon which the ship was driving bodily. Orders were then given
immediately by the captain to sway the fore-yard up, and set the
fore-sail; which done, we wore ship with her head to the southward, and
endeavoured to crowd her off from the land: but the weather, from being
exceedingly tempestuous, blowing now a perfect hurricane, and right in
upon the shore, rendered our endeavours (for we were now only twelve
hands fit for duty) entirely fruitless. The night came on, dreadful
beyond description, in which, attempting to throw out our topsails to
claw off the shore, they were immediately blown from the yards.
In the morning, about four o'clock, the ship struck. The shock we
received upon this occasion, though very great, being not unlike the
blow of a heavy sea, such as in the series of preceding storms we had
often experienced, was taken for the same; but we were soon undeceived
by her striking again more violently than before, which laid her upon
her beam ends, the sea making a fair breach over her. Every person that
now could stir was presently upon the quarter-deck; and many even of
those were alert upon this occasion, that had not showed their faces
upon deck for above two months before: several poor wretches, who were
in the last stage of the scurvy, and who could not get out of their
hammocks, were immediately drowned.
In this dreadful situation she lay for some little time, every soul
on board looking upon the present minute as his last; for there was
nothing; to be seen but breakers all around us. However, a mountainous
sea hove her off from thence, but she presently struck again, and broke
her tiller. In this terrifying and critical juncture, to have observed
all the various modes of horror operating according to the several
characters and complexions amongst us, it was necessary that the
observer himself should have been free from all impressions of danger.
Instances there were, however, of behaviour so very remarkable, they
could not escape the notice of any one who was not entirely bereaved
of his senses; for some were in this condition to all intents and
purposes; particularly one, in the ravings of despair brought upon him,
was seen stalking about the deck, flourishing a cutlass over his head
and calling himself king of the country, and striking every body he
came near, till his companions, seeing no other security against his
tyranny, knocked him down. Some, reduced before by long sickness and
the scurvy, became on this occasion as it were petrified and bereaved
of all sense, like inanimate logs, and were bandied to and fro by the
jerks and rolls of the ship, without exerting any efforts to help
themselves. So terrible was the scene of foaming breakers around us,
that one of the bravest men we had could not help expressing his dismay
at it, saying it was too shocking a sight to bear; and would have
thrown himself over the rails of the quarter-deck into the sea, had
he not been prevented: but at the same time there were not wanting
those who preserved a presence of mind truly heroic. The man at the
helm, though both rudder and tiller were gone, kept his station; and
being asked by one of the officers, if the ship would steer or not,
first took his time to make trial by the wheel, and then answered with
as much respect and coolness as if the ship had been in the greatest
safety; and immediately after applied himself with his usual serenity
to his duty, persuaded it did not become him to desert it as long as
the ship kept together. Mr. Jones, mate, who now survives not only
this wreck, but that of the Litchfield man of war upon the coast of
Barbary, at the time when the ship was in the most imminent danger,
not only shewed himself undaunted, but endeavoured to inspire the same
resolution in the men; saying, "My friends, let us not be discouraged:
did you never see a ship amongst breakers before? Let us try to push
her through them. Come, lend a hand; here is a sheet, and here is a
brace; lay hold; I don't doubt but we may stick her yet near enough
to the land to save our lives." This had so good an effect, that many
who before were half dead, seemed active again, and now went to work
in earnest. This Mr. Jones did purely to keep up the spirits of the
people as long as possible; for he often said afterwards, he thought
there was not the least chance of a single man being saved. We now
ran in between an opening of the breakers, steering by the sheets and
braces, when providentially we stuck fast between two great rocks; that
to windward sheltering us in some measure from the violence of the
sea. We immediately cut away the main and foremast; but the ship kept
beating in such a manner, that we imagined she could hold together but
a very little while. The day now broke, and the weather, that had been
extremely thick, cleared away for a few moments, and gave us a glimpse
of the land not far from us. We now thought of nothing but saving our
lives. To get the boats out, as our masts were gone, was a work of some
time; which when accomplished, many were ready to jump into the first,
by which means they narrowly escaped perishing before they reached the
shore. I now went to Captain Cheap (who had the misfortune to dislocate
his shoulder by a fall the day before, as he was going forward to get
the fore-yard swayed up), and asked him if he would not go on shore;
but he told me, as he had done before, that he would be the last to
leave the ship; and he ordered me to assist in getting the men out as
soon as possible. I had been with him very often from the time the ship
first struck, as he desired I would, to acquaint him with every thing
that passed; and I particularly remarked, that he gave his orders at
that time with as much coolness as ever he had done during the former
part of the voyage.
The scene was now greatly changed; for many who but a few minutes
before had shewn the strongest signs of despair, and were on their
knees praying for mercy, imagining they were now not in that immediate
danger, grew very riotous, broke open every chest and box that was
at hand, stove in the heads of casks of brandy and wine as they were
borne up to the hatchways, and got so drunk, that several of them
were drowned on board, and lay floating about the decks for some days
after. Before I left the ship, I went down to my chest, which was at
the bulkhead of the wardroom, in order to save some little matters, if
possible; but whilst I was there the ship thumped with such violence,
and the water came in so fast, that I was forced to get upon the
quarter-deck again, without saving a single rag but what was upon my
back. The boatswain and some of the people would not leave the ship so
long as there was any liquor to be got at; upon which Captain Cheap
suffered himself to be helped out of his bed, put into the boat, and
carried on shore.
It is natural to think, that to men thus upon the point of perishing
by shipwreck, the getting to land was the highest attainment of
their wishes; undoubtedly it was a desirable event; yet, all things
considered, our condition was but little mended by the change.
Whichever way we looked, a scene of horror presented itself: on one
side the wreck (in which was all that we had in the world to support
and subsist us), together with a boisterous sea, presented us with
the most dreary prospect; on the other, the land did not wear a much
more favourable appearance: desolate and barren, without sign of
culture, we could hope to receive little other benefit from it than the
preservation it afforded us from the sea. It must be confessed this was
a great and merciful deliverance from immediate destruction; but then
we had wet, cold, and hunger, to struggle with, and no visible remedy
against any of these evils. Exerting ourselves, however, though faint,
benumbed, and almost helpless, to find some wretched covert against
the extreme inclemency of the weather, we discovered an Indian hut, at
a small distance from the beach, within a wood, in which as many as
possible, without distinction, crowded themselves, the night coming on
exceedingly tempestuous and rainy. But here our situation was such
as to exclude all rest and refreshment by sleep from most of us; for
besides that we pressed upon one another extremely, we were not without
our alarms and apprehensions of being attacked by the Indians, from a
discovery we made of some of their lances and other arms in our hut;
and our uncertainty of their strength and disposition, gave alarm to
our imagination, and kept us in continual anxiety.
In this miserable hovel, one of our company, a lieutenant of invalids,
died this night; and of those who for want of room took shelter under
a great tree, which stood them in very little stead, two more perished
by the severity of that cold and rainy night. In the morning, the calls
of hunger, which had been hitherto suppressed by our attention to more
immediate dangers and difficulties, were now become too importunate to
be resisted. We had most of us fasted eight and forty hours, some more;
it was time, therefore, to make inquiry among ourselves what store of
sustenance had been brought from the wreck by the providence of some,
and what could be procured on the island by the industry of others:
but the produce of the one amounted to no more than two or three
pounds of biscuit dust reserved in a bag; and all the success of those
who ventured abroad, the weather being still exceedingly bad, was to
kill one sea-gull, and pick some wild cellery. These, therefore, were
immediately put into a pot, with the addition of a large quantity of
water, and made into a kind of soup, of which each partook as far as
it would go; but we had no sooner thrown this down than we were seized
with the most painful sickness at our stomachs, violent reachings,
swoonings, and other symptoms of being poisoned. This was imputed to
various causes, but in general to the herbs we made use of, in the
nature and quality of which we fancied ourselves mistaken; but a little
further inquiry let us into the real occasion of it, which was no other
than this: the biscuit dust was the sweepings of the bread-room, but
the bag in which they were put had been a tobacco bag; the contents
of which not being entirely taken out, what remained mixed with the
biscuit-dust, and proved a strong emetic.
We were in all about a hundred and forty who had got to shore; but
some few remained still on board, detained either by drunkenness, or
a view of pillaging the wreck, among which was the boatswain. These
were visited by an officer in the yawl, who was to endeavour to prevail
upon them to join the rest; but finding them in the greatest disorder,
and disposed to mutiny, he was obliged to desist from his purpose and
return without them. Though we were very desirous, and our necessities
required that we should take some survey of the land we were upon; yet
being strongly pre-possessed that the savages were retired but some
little distance from us, and waited to see us divided, our parties did
not make this day, any great excursions from the hut; but as far as
we went, we found it very morassy and unpromising. The spot which we
occupied was a bay formed by hilly promontories, that to the north so
exceeding steep, that in order to ascend it (for there was no going
round, the bottom being washed by the sea), we were at the labour
of cutting steps. This, which we called Mount Misery, was of use to
us in taking some observations afterwards, when the weather would
permit: the southern promontory was not so inaccessible. Beyond this,
I, with some others, having reached another bay, found driven ashore
some parts of the wreck, but no kind of provision; nor did we meet
with any shell-fish, which we were chiefly in search of. We therefore
returned to the rest, and for that day made no other repast than what
the wild cellery afforded us. The ensuing night proved exceedingly
tempestuous; and, the sea running very high, threatened those on board
with immediate destruction by the parting of the wreck. They then were
as solicitous to get ashore, as they were before obstinate in refusing
the assistance we sent them; and when they found the boat did not come
to their relief at the instant they expected it, without considering
how impracticable a thing it was to send it them in such a sea, they
fired one of the quarter-deck guns at the hut; the ball of which did
but just pass over the covering of it, and was plainly heard by the
captain and us who were within. Another attempt, therefore, was made
to bring these madmen to land, which, however, by the violence of the
sea, and other impediments, occasioned by the mast that lay alongside,
proved ineffectual. This unavoidable delay made the people on board
outrageous: they fell to beating every thing to pieces that fell in
the way; and, carrying their intemperance to the greatest excess,
broke open chests and cabins for plunder that could be of no use to
them: and so earnest were they in this wantonness of theft, that one
man had evidently been murdered on account of some division of the
spoil, or for the sake of the share that fell to him, having all the
marks of a strangled corpse. One thing in this outrage they seemed
particularly attentive to, which was, to provide themselves with arms
and ammunition, in order to support them in putting their mutinous
designs in execution, and asserting their claim to a lawless exemption
from the authority of their officers, which they pretended must cease
with the loss of the ship. But of these arms, which we stood in great
need of, they were soon bereaved, upon coming ashore, by the resolution
of Captain Cheap and Lieutenant Hamilton of the marines. Among these
mutineers which had been left on board, as I observed before, was the
boatswain; who, instead of exerting the authority he had over the
rest, to keep them within bounds as much as possible, was himself a
ringleader in their riot: him, without respect to the figure he then
made, for he was in laced clothes, Captain Cheap, by a blow well laid
on with his cane, felled to the ground. It was scarce possible to
refrain from laughter at the whimsical appearance these fellows made,
who, having rifled the chests of the officers' best suits, had put them
on over their greasy trowsers and dirty checked shirts. They were soon
stripped of their finery, as they had before been obliged to resign
their arms.
The incessant rains, and exceeding cold weather in this climate,
rendered it impossible for us to subsist long without shelter; and
the hut being much too little to receive us all, it was necessary
to fall upon some expedient, without delay, which might serve our
purpose: accordingly the gunner, carpenter, and some more, turning
the cutter keel upwards, and fixing it upon props, made no despicable
habitation. Having thus established some sort of settlement, we had
the more leisure to look about us, and to make our researches with
greater accuracy than we had before, after such supplies as the most
desolate coasts are seldom unfurnished with. Accordingly we soon
provided ourselves with some sea-fowl, and found limpets, muscles, and
other shell-fish in tolerable abundance; but this rummaging of the
shore was now becoming extremely irksome to those who had any feeling,
by the bodies of our drowned people thrown among the rocks, some of
which were hideous spectacles, from the mangled condition they were in
by the violent surf that drove in upon the coast. These horrors were
overcome by the distresses of our people, who were even glad of the
occasion of killing the gallinazo (the carrion crow of that country),
while preying on these carcases, in order to make a meal of them. But
a provision by no means proportionable to the number of mouths to be
fed, could, by our utmost industry, be acquired from that part of the
island we had hitherto traversed: therefore, till we were in a capacity
of making more distant excursions, the wreck was to be applied to as
often as possible, for such supplies as could be got out of her. But as
this was a very precarious fund in its present situation, and at best
could not last us long; considering too that it was very uncertain how
long we might be detained upon this island the stores and provision
we were so fortunate as to retrieve, were not only to be dealt out
with the most frugal economy, but a sufficient quantity, if possible,
laid by to fit us out, whenever we could agree upon any method of
transporting ourselves from this dreary spot. The difficulties we had
to encounter in these visits to the wreck, cannot be easily described;
for no part of it being above water except the quarter-deck and part
of the fore-castle, we were usually obliged to purchase such things as
were within reach, by means of large hooks fastened to poles, in which
business we were much incommoded by the dead bodies floating between
decks.
In order to secure what we thus got, in a manner to answer the ends
and purposes above-mentioned, Captain Cheap ordered a store tent to
be erected near his hut as a repository, from which nothing was to
be dealt out but in the measure and proportion agreed upon by the
officers; and though it was very hard upon us petty officers, who
were fatigued with hunting all day in quest of food, to defend this
tent from invasion by night, no other means could be devised for this
purpose so effectual as the committing this charge to our care; and we
were accordingly ordered to divide the task equally between us. Yet,
notwithstanding our utmost vigilance and care, frequent robberies
were committed upon our trust, the tent being accessible in more
than one place. And one night, when I had the watch, hearing a stir
within, I came unawares upon the thief, and presenting a pistol to his
breast, obliged him to submit to be tied up to a post till I had an
opportunity of securing him more effectually. Depredations continued
to be made on our reserved stock, notwithstanding the great hazard
attending such attempts; for our common safety made it necessary to
punish them with the utmost rigour. This will not be wondered at,
when it is known how little the allowance which might consistently be
dispensed from thence, was proportionable to our common exigencies; so
that our daily and nightly task of roving after food, was not in the
least relaxed thereby; and all put together was so far from answering
our necessities, that many at this time perished with hunger. A boy,
when no other eatables could be found, having picked up the liver of
one of the drowned men (whose carcase had been torn to pieces by the
force with which the sea drove it among the rocks), was with difficulty
withheld from making a meal of it. The men were so assiduous in their
research after the few things which drove from the wreck, that in order
to have no sharers of their good fortune, they examined the shore no
less by night than by day; so that many of those who were less alert,
or not so fortunate as their neighbours, perished with hunger, or were
driven to the last extremity. It must be observed, that on the 14th of
May we were cast away, and it was not till the 25th of this month that
provision was served regularly from the store tent.
The land we were now settled upon was about 90 leagues to the
northward of the western mouth of the straits of Magellan, in the
latitude of between 47 and 48° south, from whence we could plainly
see the Cordilleras; and by two Lagoons on the north and south of us,
stretching towards those mountains, we conjectured it was an island.
But as yet we had no means of informing ourselves perfectly, whether
it was an island or the main; for besides that the inland parts at a
little distance from us seemed impracticable from the exceeding great
thickness of the wood, we had hitherto been in such confusion and want
(each finding full employment for his time, in scraping together a
wretched subsistence, and providing shelter against the cold and rain),
that no party could be formed to go upon discoveries. The climate and
season too were utterly unfavourable to adventurers, and the coast, as
far as our eye could stretch seaward, a scene of such dismal breakers
as would discourage the most daring from making attempts in small
boats. Nor were we assisted in our enquiries by any observation that
could be made from that eminence we called Mount Misery, toward land,
our prospect that way being intercepted by still higher hills and
lofty woods: we had therefore no other expedient, by means of which
to come at this knowledge, but by fitting out one of our ship's boats
upon some discovery, to inform us of our situation. Our long-boat
was still on board the wreck; therefore a number of hands were now
dispatched to cut the gunwale of the ship, in order to get her out.
Whilst we were employed in this business, there appeared three canoes
of Indians paddling towards us: they had come round the point from the
southern Lagoons. It was some time before we could prevail upon them
to lay aside their fears and approach us; which at length they were
induced to do by the signs of friendship we made them, and by shewing
some bale-goods, which they accepted, and suffered themselves to be
conducted to the captain, who made them, likewise, some presents. They
were strangely affected with the novelty thereof; but chiefly when
shewn the looking-glass, in which the beholder could not conceive it to
be his own face that was represented, but that of some other behind it,
which he therefore went round to the back of the glass to find out.
These people were of a small stature, very swarthy, having long,
black, coarse hair, hanging over their faces. It was evident, from
their great surprise, and every part of their behaviour, as well as
their not having one thing in their possession which could be derived
from white people, that they had never seen such. Their clothing
was nothing but a bit of some beast's skin about their waists, and
something woven from feathers over the shoulders; and as they uttered
no word of any language we had ever heard, nor had any method of making
themselves understood, we presumed they could have had no intercourse
with Europeans. These savages, who upon their departure left us a few
muscles, returned in two days, and surprised us by bringing three
sheep. From whence they could procure animals in a part of the world
so distant from any Spanish settlement, cut off from all communication
with the Spaniards by an inaccessible coast and unprofitable country,
is difficult to conceive. Certain it is, that we saw no such creatures,
nor ever heard of any such, from the Straits of Magellan, till we got
into the neighbourhood of Chiloe: it must be by some strange accident
that these creatures came into their possession; but what that was, we
never could learn from them. At this interview we bartered with them
for a dog or two, which we roasted and eat. In a few days after, they
made us another visit, and bringing their wives with them, took up
their abode with us for some days; then again left us.
Whenever the weather permitted, which was now grown something drier,
but exceeding cold, we employed ourselves about the wreck, from which
we had, at sundry times, recovered several articles of provision
and liquor: these were deposited in the store-tent. Ill-humour and
discontent, from the difficulties we laboured under in procuring
subsistence, and the little prospect there was of any amendment in our
condition, was now breaking out apace. In some it shewed itself by a
separation of settlement and habitation; in others, by a resolution of
leaving the captain entirely, and making a wild journey by themselves,
without determining upon any plan whatever. For my own part, seeing
it was the fashion, and liking none of their parties, I built a
little hut just big enough for myself and a poor Indian dog I found
in the woods, who could shift for himself along shore, at low water,
by getting limpets. This creature grew so fond of me, and faithful,
that he would suffer nobody to come near the hut without biting them.
Besides those seceders I mentioned, some laid a scheme of deserting us
entirely: these were in number ten; the greatest part of them a most
desperate and abandoned crew, who, to strike a notable stroke before
they went off, placed half a barrel of gunpowder close to the captain's
hut, laid a train to it, and were just preparing to perpetrate their
wicked design of blowing up their commander, when they were with
difficulty dissuaded from it by one who had some bowels and remorse of
conscience left in him. These wretches, after rambling for some time in
the woods, and finding it impracticable to get off, for they were then
convinced that we were not upon the main, as they had imagined when
they first left us, but upon an island within four or five leagues of
it, returned and settled about a league from us; however, they were
still determined, as soon as they could procure craft fit for their
purpose, to get to the main. But before they could effect this, we
found means to prevail upon the armourer and one of the carpenter's
crew,--two very useful men to us, who had imprudently joined them,--to
come over again to their duty. The rest, (one or two excepted) having
built a punt, and converted the hull of one of the ship's masts into a
canoe, went away up one of the Lagoons, and never were heard of more.