The Commodore of the Greenland fleet having got this melancholy intelligence, ordered the six bodies to be put into coffins, and, along with the seventh, deposited beneath the snow. Afterwards, when the earth thawed, they were removed, and interred, on St. John's day, under a general discharge of the cannon of the fleet.
SEAMEN WINTERING IN SPITZBERGEN.
On the 30th of August 1633, the Dutch fleet sailed from North-Bay, in Spitzbergen, leaving seven men behind, who had agreed to winter there. Immediately, on departure of the vessels, they began to collect a sufficient quantity of provisions to serve their necessities until their comrades should return in the subsequent year. Therefore, at different times, they hunted rein-deer with success, and caught many sea-fowl; and also occasionally got herbs, which proved very salutary.
Excursions both by sea and land were frequently made when the weather would permit; and they endeavored to kill whales and narwhals in the different bays on the east coast of Spitzbergen.
The extreme cold of the climate was announced by the disappearance of all the feathered tribe on the third of October, and from that time it gradually augmented. On the 13th their casks of beer were frozen three inches thick, and very soon afterwards, though standing within eight feet of the fire, they froze from top to bottom. The seamen had broke the ice on the sea, and disposed a net for catching fish below it; but the rigour of the weather constantly increasing, the ice formed a foot thick at the surface in the space of two hours.
From the excessive cold, they remained almost constantly in bed, and, notwithstanding they had both a grate and a stove, they were sometimes obliged to rise and take violent exercise to keep themselves in heat.
Beautiful phenomena appeared in the sky during winter, consisting of the Aurora Borealis, of surprising splendour and magnitude, and other meteors seeming to arise from the icy mountains.
On the third of March the mariners had an encounter with a monstrous bear, in which one of them very nearly perished. The animal became furious from its wounds; leaping against a seaman, about to pierce it with his lance, it threw him down, and, but for the opportune interposition of another, would have torn him to pieces.
At length, after suffering many hardships and privations the mariners were gladdened with the sight of a boat rowing into the bay, on the 27th of May 1634, announcing the return of a Dutch Greenlandman, which anchored there the same evening.
The Dutch, encouraged by the safety of this party, proposed that other seven people, provided with all necessaries, should pass the following winter in their place; and, accordingly, Andrew Johnson, Cornelius Thysse, Jerome Carcoen, Tiebke Jellis, Nicholas Florison, Adrian Johnson, and Fettje Otters, offered to remain.
The fleet, therefore, sailed for Holland on the 11th of September 1634, leaving these men behind. Numbers of whales were in sight of Spitzbergen on the same day, which the people made an unsuccessful attempt to catch.
Towards the end of November, scurvy beginning to appear among them, they carefully sought for green herbs, but in vain; nor were they more fortunate in the pursuit of bears and foxes for fresh provisions. However, they drank some potions and took other antidotes against the disease, and then set traps for foxes.
A bear being discovered on the 24th of November, three of the people eagerly proceeded to attack it, for their necessities were daily becoming greater. The animal, rising to receive them on its hind legs, was shot through the body, whereupon it began to bleed and roar most hideously, and fiercely bit a halbert. But, likely to be overpowered, it took to flight, and was anxiously pursued by the people a long way, carrying lanthorns, though unsuccessfully; and they were all much dispirited from the disappointment of fresh provision, which they so much required.
On the 14th of January, Adrian Johnson died. The whole of the rest were extremely ill. Fettje Otters died next day, and also Cornelius Thysse on the 17th, a man in whom his comrades rested their chief hope next to God.
Notwithstanding the weakness of the survivors, who could scarce support themselves on their legs, they contrived to make three coffins for the deceased, and put their bodies into them.
In the beginning of February they had the good fortune to catch a fox, an incident which afforded them much satisfaction, but at that time disease had gone too far to admit their deriving material benefit from the flesh. Many bears, even six or ten together were seen; but the people had not strength to manage their guns, nor, had it been otherwise, were they able to pursue them. Now they were seized with excruciating pains about the loins and belly, which were aggravated by cold. One spit blood, and another was afflicted with a bloody flux; yet Jerome Carcoen could still bring in fuel to keep up the fires.
The sun had disappeared on the 20th of October, nor was he seen again until the 24th of February, when the mariners were so weak as to be constantly confined to their cabins. Two days after, they ceased to be able to write, at that time expressing themselves in a journal thus: "Four of us who still survive, lie flat on the floor of our hut. We think we could still eat, were there only one among us able to get fuel, but none can move for pain; our time is spent in constant prayer, that God, in his mercy, would deliver us from this misery; we are ready whenever he pleases to call us. Assuredly we cannot long survive without food or firing; we are unable to assist each other in our mutual afflictions, and each must bear his own burden."
The seamen of the Dutch fleet arriving at Spitzbergen, in 1635, hastened to inquire after the fate of their comrades; and having found their hut all closed around as a protection against wild beasts, they broke open the back door. A man then entering, ran up stairs, where he discovered part of a dead dog on the floor, laid there to dry, and quickly descending, trod on the carcass of another dog also dead. Thence passing towards the front door, he stumbled in the dark over several dead bodies, which, after the door was opened, were seen lying together. Three were in coffins; Nicholas Florison and another, each in a cabin; and the other two on some sails covering the floor, lying with their knees drawn up to their chins. Therefore the whole of these unfortunate people had perished.
Coffins were prepared for the four bodies wanting them, and all were buried under the snow, until the ground became more penetrable, when they were deposited in the earth beside each other, and stones laid on their graves, to preserve them from the ravenous beasts of prey.
A MAN OVERBOARD.
Sailors are men of rough habits, but their feelings are not by any means so coarse: if they possess little prudence or worldly consideration, they are likewise very free from selfishness; generally speaking, too, they are much attached to one another, and will make great sacrifices to their messmates or shipmates when opportunities occur.
I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle and on looking about to see if all the men were at their station, missed one of the fore-top men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and apparently hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat and the booms. 'Hillo!' I said, 'who are you? What are you doing there, you skulker? Why are you not at your station?'
'I am not skulking,' said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose bronzed and weatherbeaten cheek were running down with tears. The man we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten years. I begged his pardon, in full sincerity, for having used such harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his birth for the rest of the day--'Never mind, sir, never mind,' said the kind hearted seaman, 'it can't be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as well on deck as below. Bill's gone sir, but I must do my duty.' So saying, he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his eyes, and mustering his grief within his breast, walked to his station as if nothing had happened.
In the same ship and nearly about the same time, the people were bathing along side in a calm at sea. It is customary on such occasions to spread a studding-sail on the water, by means of lines from the fore and main yard arms, for the use of those who either cannot swim, or who are not expert in this art, so very important to all seafaring people. Half a dozen of the ship's boys were floundering about in the sails, and sometimes even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the least of these urchins, but not the least courageous of their number, when taunted by his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck out boldly beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further than his own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea, when his heart failed him, poor little man; and along with his confidence away also went his power of keeping his head above the water. So down he sank rapidly, to the speechless horror of the other boys, who of course, could lend the drowning child no help.
The captain of the forecastle, a tall, fine-looking, hard-a-weather fellow, was standing on the shank of the sheet anchor with his arms across, and his well varnished canvass hat drawn so much over his eyes that it was difficult to tell whether he was awake or merely dozing in the sun, as he leaned his back against the fore-topmast backstay. The seaman, however, had been attentively watching the young party all the time, and rather fearing that mischief might ensue from their rashness, he had grunted out a warning to them from time to time, to which they paid no sort of attention. At last he desisted, saying they might drown themselves if they had a mind, for never a bit would he help them; but no sooner did the sinking figure of the adventurous little boy catch his eye, than, diver fashion, he joined the palms of his hands over his head, inverted his position in one instant, and urging himself into swifter motion by a smart push with his feet against the anchor, shot head foremost into the water. The poor lad sunk so rapidly that he was at least a couple of fathoms under the surface before he was arrested by the grip of the sailor, who soon rose again, bearing the bewildered boy in his hand, and calling to the other youngsters to take better care of their companion, chucked him right into the belly of the sail. The fore-sheet was hanging in the calm, nearly into the water, and by it the dripping seaman scrambled up again to his old birth on the anchor, shook himself like a great Newfoundland dog, and then jumping on the deck, proceeded across the forecastle to shift himself.
At the top of the ladder he was stopped by the marine officer, who had witnessed the whole transaction, as he sat across the gangway hammocks, watching the swimmers, and trying to get his own consent to undergo the labor of undressing. Said the soldier to the sailor, "That was very well done of you, my man, and right well deserves a glass of grog. Say so to the gun-room steward as you pass; and tell him it is my orders to fill you out a stiff nor-wester." The soldier's offer was kindly meant, but rather clumsily timed, at least so thought Jack: for though he inclined his head in acknowledgment of the attention, and instinctively touched his hat when spoken to by an officer, he made no reply till out of the marine's hearing, when he laughed, or rather chuckled out to the people near him, "Does the good gentleman suppose I'll take a glass of grog for saving a boy's life."
AN ESCAPE THROUGH THE CABIN-WINDOWS.
In the year 18--, said Capt. M----, I was bound, in a fine stout ship of about four hundred tons burden, from the port of l'---- to Liverpool. The ship had a valuable cargo on board and about ninety thousand dollars in specie. I had been prevented, by other urgent business, from giving much of my attention to the vessel while loading and equipping for the voyage, but was very particular in my directions to the chief mate, in whom I had great confidence, he having sailed with me some years, to avoid entering, if possible, any but native American seamen. When we were about to sail, he informed me that he had not been able to comply with my directions entirely in this particular; but had shipped two foreigners as seamen, one a native of Guernsey, and the other a Frenchman from Brittany. I was pleased, however, with the appearance of the crew generally, and particularly with the foreigners. They were both stout and able-bodied men, and were particularly alert and attentive to orders.
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