The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3
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Title: The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3
Author: Edgar Allan Poe
Release date: April 1, 2000 [eBook #2149]
Most recently updated: August 31, 2026
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2149
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE — VOLUME 3 ***
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe
by Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven Edition
VOLUME III.
Contents
NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
NOTES TO THE THIRD VOLUME
LIGEIA
MORELLA
A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS
THE SPECTACLES
KING PEST
THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK
NARRATIVE OF A. GORDON PYM
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Upon my return to the United States a few months ago, after the
extraordinary series of adventure in the South Seas and
elsewhere, of which an account is given in the following pages,
accident threw me into the society of several gentlemen in
Richmond, Va., who felt deep interest in all matters relating to
the regions I had visited, and who were constantly urging it upon
me, as a duty, to give my narrative to the public. I had several
reasons, however, for declining to do so, some of which were of a
nature altogether private, and concern no person but myself;
others not so much so. One consideration which deterred me was
that, having kept no journal during a greater portion of the time
in which I was absent, I feared I should not be able to write,
from mere memory, a statement so minute and connected as to have
the _appearance_of that truth it would really possess, barring
only the natural and unavoidable exaggeration to which all of us
are prone when detailing events which have had powerful influence
in exciting the imaginative faculties. Another reason was, that
the incidents to be narrated were of a nature so positively
marvellous that, unsupported as my assertions must necessarily be
(except by the evidence of a single individual, and he a
half-breed Indian), I could only hope for belief among my family,
and those of my friends who have had reason, through life, to put
faith in my veracity—the probability being that the public at
large would regard what I should put forth as merely an impudent
and ingenious fiction. A distrust in my own abilities as a writer
was, nevertheless, one of the principal causes which prevented me
from complying with the suggestions of my advisers.
Among those gentlemen in Virginia who expressed the greatest
interest in my statement, more particularly in regard to that
portion of it which related to the Antarctic Ocean, was Mr. Poe,
lately editor of the “Southern Literary Messenger,” a monthly
magazine, published by Mr. Thomas W. White, in the city of
Richmond. He strongly advised me, among others, to prepare at
once a full account of what I had seen and undergone, and trust
to the shrewdness and common-sense of the public—insisting, with
great plausibility, that however roughly, as regards mere
authorship, my book should be got up, its very uncouthness, if
there were any, would give it all the better chance of being
received as truth.
Notwithstanding this representation, I did not make up my mind to
do as he suggested. He afterward proposed (finding that I would
not stir in the matter) that I should allow him to draw up, in
his own words, a narrative of the earlier portion of my
adventures, from facts afforded by myself, publishing it in the
“Southern Messenger” _under the garb of fiction. _To this,
perceiving no objection, I consented, stipulating only that my
real name should be retained. Two numbers of the pretended
fiction appeared, consequently, in the “Messenger” for January
and February (1837), and, in order that it might certainly be
regarded as fiction, the name of Mr. Poe was affixed to the
articles in the table of contents of the magazine.
The manner in which this ruse was received has induced me at
length to undertake a regular compilation and publication of the
adventures in question; for I found that, in spite of the air of
fable which had been so ingeniously thrown around that portion of
my statement which appeared in the “Messenger” (without altering
or distorting a single fact), the public were still not at all
disposed to receive it as fable, and several letters were sent to
Mr. P.’s address, distinctly expressing a conviction to the
contrary. I thence concluded that the facts of my narrative would
prove of such a nature as to carry with them sufficient evidence
of their own authenticity, and that I had consequently little to
fear on the score of popular incredulity.
This _exposé_being made, it will be seen at once how much of what
follows I claim to be my own writing; and it will also be
understood that no fact is misrepresented in the first few pages
which were written by Mr. Poe. Even to those readers who have not
seen the “Messenger,” it will be unnecessary to point out where
his portion ends and my own commences; the difference in point of
style will be readily perceived.
A. G. PYM.
CHAPTER 1
My name is Arthur Gordon Pym. My father was a respectable trader
in sea-stores at Nantucket, where I was born. My maternal
grandfather was an attorney in good practice. He was fortunate in
every thing, and had speculated very successfully in stocks of
the Edgarton New Bank, as it was formerly called. By these and
other means he had managed to lay by a tolerable sum of money. He
was more attached to myself, I believe, than to any other person
in the world, and I expected to inherit the most of his property
at his death. He sent me, at six years of age, to the school of
old Mr. Ricketts, a gentleman with only one arm and of eccentric
manners—he is well known to almost every person who has visited
New Bedford. I stayed at his school until I was sixteen, when I
left him for Mr. E. Ronald’s academy on the hill. Here I became
intimate with the son of Mr. Barnard, a sea-captain, who
generally sailed in the employ of Lloyd and Vredenburgh—Mr.
Barnard is also very well known in New Bedford, and has many
relations, I am certain, in Edgarton. His son was named Augustus,
and he was nearly two years older than myself. He had been on a
whaling voyage with his father in the John Donaldson, and was
always talking to me of his adventures in the South Pacific
Ocean. I used frequently to go home with him, and remain all day,
and sometimes all night. We occupied the same bed, and he would
be sure to keep me awake until almost light, telling me stories
of the natives of the Island of Tinian, and other places he had
visited in his travels. At last I could not help being interested
in what he said, and by degrees I felt the greatest desire to go
to sea. I owned a sailboat called the Ariel, and worth about
seventy-five dollars. She had a half-deck or cuddy, and was
rigged sloop-fashion—I forget her tonnage, but she would hold ten
persons without much crowding. In this boat we were in the habit
of going on some of the maddest freaks in the world; and, when I
now think of them, it appears to me a thousand wonders that I am
alive to-day.
I will relate one of these adventures by way of introduction to a
longer and more momentous narrative. One night there was a party
at Mr. Barnard’s, and both Augustus and myself were not a little
intoxicated toward the close of it. As usual, in such cases, I
took part of his bed in preference to going home. He went to
sleep, as I thought, very quietly (it being near one when the
party broke up), and without saying a word on his favorite topic.
It might have been half an hour from the time of our getting in
bed, and I was just about falling into a doze, when he suddenly
started up, and swore with a terrible oath that he would not go
to sleep for any Arthur Pym in Christendom, when there was so
glorious a breeze from the southwest. I never was so astonished
in my life, not knowing what he intended, and thinking that the
wines and liquors he had drunk had set him entirely beside
himself. He proceeded to talk very coolly, however, saying he
knew that I supposed him intoxicated, but that he was never more
sober in his life. He was only tired, he added, of lying in bed
on such a fine night like a dog, and was determined to get up and
dress, and go out on a frolic with the boat. I can hardly tell
what possessed me, but the words were no sooner out of his mouth
than I felt a thrill of the greatest excitement and pleasure, and
thought his mad idea one of the most delightful and most
reasonable things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale, and
the weather was very cold—it being late in October. I sprang out
of bed, nevertheless, in a kind of ecstasy, and told him I was
quite as brave as himself, and quite as tired as he was of lying
in bed like a dog, and quite as ready for any fun or frolic as
any Augustus Barnard in Nantucket.
We lost no time in getting on our clothes and hurrying down to
the boat. She was lying at the old decayed wharf by the
lumber-yard of Pankey & Co., and almost thumping her side out
against the rough logs. Augustus got into her and bailed her, for
she was nearly half full of water. This being done, we hoisted
jib and mainsail, kept full, and started boldly out to sea.
The wind, as I before said, blew freshly from the southwest. The
night was very clear and cold. Augustus had taken the helm, and I
stationed myself by the mast, on the deck of the cuddy. We flew
along at a great rate—neither of us having said a word since
casting loose from the wharf. I now asked my companion what
course he intended to steer, and what time he thought it probable
we should get back. He whistled for a few minutes, and then said
crustily: “_I_ am going to sea—_you_ may go home if you think
proper.” Turning my eyes upon him, I perceived at once that, in
spite of his assumed _nonchalance_, he was greatly agitated. I
could see him distinctly by the light of the moon—his face was
paler than any marble, and his hand shook so excessively that he
could scarcely retain hold of the tiller. I found that something
had gone wrong, and became seriously alarmed. At this period I
knew little about the management of a boat, and was now depending
entirely upon the nautical skill of my friend. The wind, too, had
suddenly increased, as we were fast getting out of the lee of the
land—still I was ashamed to betray any trepidation, and for
almost half an hour maintained a resolute silence. I could stand
it no longer, however, and spoke to Augustus about the propriety
of turning back. As before, it was nearly a minute before he made
answer, or took any notice of my suggestion. “By-and-by,” said he
at length—“time enough—home by-and-by.” I had expected a similar
reply, but there was something in the tone of these words which
filled me with an indescribable feeling of dread. I again looked
at the speaker attentively. His lips were perfectly livid, and
his knees shook so violently together that he seemed scarcely
able to stand. “For God’s sake, Augustus,” I screamed, now
heartily frightened, “what ails you?—what is the matter?—what
_are_ you going to do?” “Matter!” he stammered, in the greatest
apparent surprise, letting go the tiller at the same moment, and
falling forward into the bottom of the boat—“matter—why, nothing
is the—matter—going home—d—d—don’t you see?” The whole truth now
flashed upon me. I flew to him and raised him up. He was
drunk—beastly drunk—he could no longer either stand, speak, or
see. His eyes were perfectly glazed; and as I let him go in the
extremity of my despair, he rolled like a mere log into the
bilge-water, from which I had lifted him. It was evident that,
during the evening, he had drunk far more than I suspected, and
that his conduct in bed had been the result of a
highly-concentrated state of intoxication—a state which, like
madness, frequently enables the victim to imitate the outward
demeanour of one in perfect possession of his senses. The
coolness of the night air, however, had had its usual effect—the
mental energy began to yield before its influence—and the
confused perception which he no doubt then had of his perilous
situation had assisted in hastening the catastrophe. He was now
thoroughly insensible, and there was no probability that he would
be otherwise for many hours.
It is hardly possible to conceive the extremity of my terror. The
fumes of the wine lately taken had evaporated, leaving me doubly
timid and irresolute. I knew that I was altogether incapable of
managing the boat, and that a fierce wind and strong ebb tide
were hurrying us to destruction. A storm was evidently gathering
behind us; we had neither compass nor provisions; and it was
clear that, if we held our present course, we should be out of
sight of land before daybreak. These thoughts, with a crowd of
others equally fearful, flashed through my mind with a
bewildering rapidity, and for some moments paralyzed me beyond
the possibility of making any exertion. The boat was going
through the water at a terrible rate—full before the wind—no reef
in either jib or mainsail—running her bows completely under the
foam. It was a thousand wonders she did not broach to—Augustus
having let go the tiller, as I said before, and I being too much
agitated to think of taking it myself. By good luck, however, she
kept steady, and gradually I recovered some degree of presence of
mind. Still the wind was increasing fearfully, and whenever we
rose from a plunge forward, the sea behind fell combing over our
counter, and deluged us with water. I was so utterly benumbed,
too, in every limb, as to be nearly unconscious of sensation. At
length I summoned up the resolution of despair, and rushing to
the mainsail let it go by the run. As might have been expected,
it flew over the bows, and, getting drenched with water, carried
away the mast short off by the board. This latter accident alone
saved me from instant destruction. Under the jib only, I now
boomed along before the wind, shipping heavy seas occasionally
over the counter, but relieved from the terror of immediate
death. I took the helm, and breathed with greater freedom as I
found that there yet remained to us a chance of ultimate escape.
Augustus still lay senseless in the bottom of the boat; and as
there was imminent danger of his drowning (the water being nearly
a foot deep just where he fell), I contrived to raise him
partially up, and keep him in a sitting position, by passing a
rope round his waist, and lashing it to a ringbolt in the deck of
the cuddy. Having thus arranged every thing as well as I could in
my chilled and agitated condition, I recommended myself to God,
and made up my mind to bear whatever might happen with all the
fortitude in my power.
Hardly had I come to this resolution, when, suddenly, a loud and
long scream or yell, as if from the throats of a thousand demons,
seemed to pervade the whole atmosphere around and above the boat.
Never while I live shall I forget the intense agony of terror I
experienced at that moment. My hair stood erect on my head—I felt
the blood congealing in my veins—my heart ceased utterly to beat,
and without having once raised my eyes to learn the source of my
alarm, I tumbled headlong and insensible upon the body of my
fallen companion.
I found myself, upon reviving, in the cabin of a large
whaling-ship (the Penguin) bound to Nantucket. Several persons
were standing over me, and Augustus, paler than death, was busily
occupied in chafing my hands. Upon seeing me open my eyes, his
exclamations of gratitude and joy excited alternate laughter and
tears from the rough-looking personages who were present. The
mystery of our being in existence was now soon explained. We had
been run down by the whaling-ship, which was close-hauled,
beating up to Nantucket with every sail she could venture to set,
and consequently running almost at right angles to our own
course. Several men were on the look-out forward, but did not
perceive our boat until it was an impossibility to avoid coming
in contact—their shouts of warning upon seeing us were what so
terribly alarmed me. The huge ship, I was told, rode immediately
over us with as much ease as our own little vessel would have
passed over a feather, and without the least perceptible
impediment to her progress. Not a scream arose from the deck of
the victim—there was a slight grating sound to be heard mingling
with the roar of wind and water, as the frail bark which was
swallowed up rubbed for a moment along the keel of her
destroyer—but this was all. Thinking our boat (which it will be
remembered was dismasted) some mere shell cut adrift as useless,
the captain (Captain E. T. V. Block, of New London) was for
proceeding on his course without troubling himself further about
the matter. Luckily, there were two of the look-out who swore
positively to having seen some person at our helm, and
represented the possibility of yet saving him. A discussion
ensued, when Block grew angry, and, after a while, said that “it
was no business of his to be eternally watching for egg-shells;
that the ship should not put about for any such nonsense; and if
there was a man run down, it was nobody’s fault but his own, he
might drown and be dammed” or some language to that effect.
Henderson, the first mate, now took the matter up, being justly
indignant, as well as the whole ship’s crew, at a speech evincing
so base a degree of heartless atrocity. He spoke plainly, seeing
himself upheld by the men, told the captain he considered him a
fit subject for the gallows, and that he would disobey his orders
if he were hanged for it the moment he set his foot on shore. He
strode aft, jostling Block (who turned pale and made no answer)
on one side, and seizing the helm, gave the word, in a firm
voice, Hard-a-lee! The men flew to their posts, and the ship went
cleverly about. All this had occupied nearly five minutes, and it
was supposed to be hardly within the bounds of possibility that
any individual could be saved—allowing any to have been on board
the boat. Yet, as the reader has seen, both Augustus and myself
were rescued; and our deliverance seemed to have been brought
about by two of those almost inconceivable pieces of good fortune
which are attributed by the wise and pious to the special
interference of Providence.
While the ship was yet in stays, the mate lowered the jolly-boat
and jumped into her with the very two men, I believe, who spoke
up as having seen me at the helm. They had just left the lee of
the vessel (the moon still shining brightly) when she made a long
and heavy roll to windward, and Henderson, at the same moment,
starting up in his seat bawled out to his crew to back water. He
would say nothing else—repeating his cry impatiently, back water!
back water! The men put back as speedily as possible, but by this
time the ship had gone round, and gotten fully under headway,
although all hands on board were making great exertions to take
in sail. In despite of the danger of the attempt, the mate clung
to the main-chains as soon as they came within his reach. Another
huge lurch now brought the starboard side of the vessel out of
water nearly as far as her keel, when the cause of his anxiety
was rendered obvious enough. The body of a man was seen to be
affixed in the most singular manner to the smooth and shining
bottom (the Penguin was coppered and copper-fastened), and
beating violently against it with every movement of the hull.
After several ineffectual efforts, made during the lurches of the
ship, and at the imminent risk of swamping the boat I was finally
disengaged from my perilous situation and taken on board—for the
body proved to be my own. It appeared that one of the
timber-bolts having started and broken a passage through the
copper, it had arrested my progress as I passed under the ship,
and fastened me in so extraordinary a manner to her bottom. The
head of the bolt had made its way through the collar of the green
baize jacket I had on, and through the back part of my neck,
forcing itself out between two sinews and just below the right
ear. I was immediately put to bed—although life seemed to be
totally extinct. There was no surgeon on board. The captain,
however, treated me with every attention—to make amends, I
presume, in the eyes of his crew, for his atrocious behaviour in
the previous portion of the adventure.
In the meantime, Henderson had again put off from the ship,
although the wind was now blowing almost a hurricane. He had not
been gone many minutes when he fell in with some fragments of our
boat, and shortly afterward one of the men with him asserted that
he could distinguish a cry for help at intervals amid the roaring
of the tempest. This induced the hardy seamen to persevere in
their search for more than half an hour, although repeated
signals to return were made them by Captain Block, and although
every moment on the water in so frail a boat was fraught to them
with the most imminent and deadly peril. Indeed, it is nearly
impossible to conceive how the small jolly they were in could
have escaped destruction for a single instant. She was built,
however, for the whaling service, and was fitted, as I have since
had reason to believe, with air-boxes, in the manner of some
life-boats used on the coast of Wales.
After searching in vain for about the period of time just
mentioned, it was determined to get back to the ship. They had
scarcely made this resolve when a feeble cry arose from a dark
object that floated rapidly by. They pursued and soon overtook
it. It proved to be the entire deck of the Ariel’s cuddy.
Augustus was struggling near it, apparently in the last agonies.
Upon getting hold of him it was found that he was attached by a
rope to the floating timber. This rope, it will be remembered, I
had myself tied around his waist, and made fast to a ringbolt,
for the purpose of keeping him in an upright position, and my so
doing, it appeared, had been ultimately the means of preserving
his life. The Ariel was slightly put together, and in going down
her frame naturally went to pieces; the deck of the cuddy, as
might have been expected, was lifted, by the force of the water
rushing in, entirely from the main timbers, and floated (with
other fragments, no doubt) to the surface—Augustus was buoyed up
with it, and thus escaped a terrible death.
It was more than an hour after being taken on board the Penguin
before he could give any account of himself, or be made to
comprehend the nature of the accident which had befallen our
boat. At length he became thoroughly aroused, and spoke much of
his sensations while in the water. Upon his first attaining any
degree of consciousness, he found himself beneath the surface,
whirling round and round with inconceivable rapidity, and with a
rope wrapped in three or four folds tightly about his neck. In an
instant afterward he felt himself going rapidly upward, when, his
head striking violently against a hard substance, he again
relapsed into insensibility. Upon once more reviving he was in
fuller possession of his reason—this was still, however, in the
greatest degree clouded and confused. He now knew that some
accident had occurred, and that he was in the water, although his
mouth was above the surface, and he could breathe with some
freedom. Possibly, at this period the deck was drifting rapidly
before the wind, and drawing him after it, as he floated upon his
back. Of course, as long as he could have retained this position,
it would have been nearly impossible that he should be drowned.
Presently a surge threw him directly athwart the deck, and this
post he endeavored to maintain, screaming at intervals for help.
Just before he was discovered by Mr. Henderson, he had been
obliged to relax his hold through exhaustion, and, falling into
the sea, had given himself up for lost. During the whole period
of his struggles he had not the faintest recollection of the
Ariel, nor of the matters in connexion with the source of his
disaster. A vague feeling of terror and despair had taken entire
possession of his faculties. When he was finally picked up, every
power of his mind had failed him; and, as before said, it was
nearly an hour after getting on board the Penguin before he
became fully aware of his condition. In regard to myself—I was
resuscitated from a state bordering very nearly upon death (and
after every other means had been tried in vain for three hours
and a half) by vigorous friction with flannels bathed in hot
oil—a proceeding suggested by Augustus. The wound in my neck,
although of an ugly appearance, proved of little real
consequence, and I soon recovered from its effects.
The Penguin got into port about nine o’clock in the morning,
after encountering one of the severest gales ever experienced off
Nantucket. Both Augustus and myself managed to appear at Mr.
Barnard’s in time for breakfast—which, luckily, was somewhat
late, owing to the party over night. I suppose all at the table
were too much fatigued themselves to notice our jaded
appearance—of course, it would not have borne a very rigid
scrutiny. Schoolboys, however, can accomplish wonders in the way
of deception, and I verily believe not one of our friends in
Nantucket had the slightest suspicion that the terrible story
told by some sailors in town of their having run down a vessel at
sea and drowned some thirty or forty poor devils, had reference
either to the Ariel, my companion, or myself. We two have since
very frequently talked the matter over—but never without a
shudder. In one of our conversations Augustus frankly confessed
to me, that in his whole life he had at no time experienced so
excruciating a sense of dismay, as when on board our little boat
he first discovered the extent of his intoxication, and felt
himself sinking beneath its influence.
CHAPTER 2
In no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we deduce
inferences with entire certainty, even from the most simple data.
It might be supposed that a catastrophe such as I have just
related would have effectually cooled my incipient passion for
the sea. On the contrary, I never experienced a more ardent
longing for the wild adventures incident to the life of a
navigator than within a week after our miraculous deliverance.
This short period proved amply long enough to erase from my
memory the shadows, and bring out in vivid light all the
pleasurably exciting points of color, all the picturesqueness, of
the late perilous accident. My conversations with Augustus grew
daily more frequent and more intensely full of interest. He had a
manner of relating his stories of the ocean (more than one half
of which I now suspect to have been sheer fabrications) well
adapted to have weight with one of my enthusiastic temperament
and somewhat gloomy although glowing imagination. It is strange,
too, that he most strongly enlisted my feelings in behalf of the
life of a seaman, when he depicted his more terrible moments of
suffering and despair. For the bright side of the painting I had
a limited sympathy. My visions were of shipwreck and famine; of
death or captivity among barbarian hordes; of a lifetime dragged
out in sorrow and tears, upon some gray and desolate rock, in an
ocean unapproachable and unknown. Such visions or desires—for
they amounted to desires—are common, I have since been assured,
to the whole numerous race of the melancholy among men—at the
time of which I speak I regarded them only as prophetic glimpses
of a destiny which I felt myself in a measure bound to fulfil.
Augustus thoroughly entered into my state of mind. It is
probable, indeed, that our intimate communion had resulted in a
partial interchange of character.
About eighteen months after the period of the Ariel’s disaster,
the firm of Lloyd and Vredenburgh (a house connected in some
manner with the Messieurs Enderby, I believe, of Liverpool) were
engaged in repairing and fitting out the brig Grampus for a
whaling voyage. She was an old hulk, and scarcely seaworthy when
all was done to her that could be done. I hardly know why she was
chosen in preference to other good vessels belonging to the same
owners—but so it was. Mr. Barnard was appointed to command her,
and Augustus was going with him. While the brig was getting
ready, he frequently urged upon me the excellency of the
opportunity now offered for indulging my desire of travel. He
found me by no means an unwilling listener—yet the matter could
not be so easily arranged. My father made no direct opposition;
but my mother went into hysterics at the bare mention of the
design; and, more than all, my grandfather, from whom I expected
much, vowed to cut me off with a shilling if I should ever broach
the subject to him again. These difficulties, however, so far
from abating my desire, only added fuel to the flame. I
determined to go at all hazards; and, having made known my
intentions to Augustus, we set about arranging a plan by which it
might be accomplished. In the meantime I forbore speaking to any
of my relations in regard to the voyage, and, as I busied myself
ostensibly with my usual studies, it was supposed that I had
abandoned the design. I have since frequently examined my conduct
on this occasion with sentiments of displeasure as well as of
surprise. The intense hypocrisy I made use of for the furtherance
of my project—an hypocrisy pervading every word and action of my
life for so long a period of time—could only have been rendered
tolerable to myself by the wild and burning expectation with
which I looked forward to the fulfilment of my long-cherished
visions of travel.
In pursuance of my scheme of deception, I was necessarily obliged
to leave much to the management of Augustus, who was employed for
the greater part of every day on board the Grampus, attending to
some arrangements for his father in the cabin and cabin hold. At
night, however, we were sure to have a conference and talk over
our hopes. After nearly a month passed in this manner, without
our hitting upon any plan we thought likely to succeed, he told
me at last that he had determined upon everything necessary. I
had a relation living in New Bedford, a Mr. Ross, at whose house
I was in the habit of spending occasionally two or three weeks at
a time. The brig was to sail about the middle of June (June,
1827), and it was agreed that, a day or two before her putting to
sea, my father was to receive a note, as usual, from Mr. Ross,
asking me to come over and spend a fortnight with Robert and
Emmet (his sons). Augustus charged himself with the inditing of
this note and getting it delivered. Having set out as supposed,
for New Bedford, I was then to report myself to my companion, who
would contrive a hiding-place for me in the Grampus. This
hiding-place, he assured me, would be rendered sufficiently
comfortable for a residence of many days, during which I was not
to make my appearance. When the brig had proceeded so far on her
course as to make any turning back a matter out of question, I
should then, he said, be formally installed in all the comforts
of the cabin; and as to his father, he would only laugh heartily
at the joke. Vessels enough would be met with by which a letter
might be sent home explaining the adventure to my parents.
The middle of June at length arrived, and every thing had been
matured. The note was written and delivered, and on a Monday
morning I left the house for the New Bedford packet, as supposed.
I went, however, straight to Augustus, who was waiting for me at
the corner of a street. It had been our original plan that I
should keep out of the way until dark, and then slip on board the
brig; but, as there was now a thick fog in our favor, it was
agreed to lose no time in secreting me. Augustus led the way to
the wharf, and I followed at a little distance, enveloped in a
thick seaman’s cloak, which he had brought with him, so that my
person might not be easily recognized. Just as we turned the
second corner, after passing Mr. Edmund’s well, who should
appear, standing right in front of me, and looking me full in the
face, but old Mr. Peterson, my grandfather. “Why, bless my soul,
Gordon,” said he, after a long pause, “why, why,—whose dirty
cloak is that you have on?” “Sir!” I replied, assuming, as well
as I could, in the exigency of the moment, an air of offended
surprise, and talking in the gruffest of all imaginable
tones—“sir! you are a sum’mat mistaken—my name, in the first
place, bee’nt nothing at all like Goddin, and I’d want you for to
know better, you blackguard, than to call my new obercoat a darty
one.” For my life I could hardly refrain from screaming with
laughter at the odd manner in which the old gentleman received
this handsome rebuke. He started back two or three steps, turned
first pale and then excessively red, threw up his spectacles,
then, putting them down, ran full tilt at me, with his umbrella
uplifted. He stopped short, however, in his career, as if struck
with a sudden recollection; and presently, turning round, hobbled
off down the street, shaking all the while with rage, and
muttering between his teeth: “Won’t do—new glasses—thought it was
Gordon—d—d good-for-nothing salt water Long Tom.”
After this narrow escape we proceeded with greater caution, and
arrived at our point of destination in safety. There were only
one or two of the hands on board, and these were busy forward,
doing something to the forecastle combings. Captain Barnard, we
knew very well, was engaged at Lloyd and Vredenburgh’s, and would
remain there until late in the evening, so we had little to
apprehend on his account. Augustus went first up the vessel’s
side, and in a short while I followed him, without being noticed
by the men at work. We proceeded at once into the cabin, and
found no person there. It was fitted up in the most comfortable
style—a thing somewhat unusual in a whaling-vessel. There were
four very excellent staterooms, with wide and convenient berths.
There was also a large stove, I took notice, and a remarkably
thick and valuable carpet covering the floor of both the cabin
and staterooms. The ceiling was full seven feet high, and, in
short, every thing appeared of a more roomy and agreeable nature
than I had anticipated. Augustus, however, would allow me but
little time for observation, insisting upon the necessity of my
concealing myself as soon as possible. He led the way into his
own stateroom, which was on the starboard side of the brig, and
next to the bulkheads. Upon entering, he closed the door and
bolted it. I thought I had never seen a nicer little room than
the one in which I now found myself. It was about ten feet long,
and had only one berth, which, as I said before, was wide and
convenient. In that portion of the closet nearest the bulkheads
there was a space of four feet square, containing a table, a
chair, and a set of hanging shelves full of books, chiefly books
of voyages and travels. There were many other little comforts in
the room, among which I ought not to forget a kind of safe or
refrigerator, in which Augustus pointed out to me a host of
delicacies, both in the eating and drinking department.
He now pressed with his knuckles upon a certain spot of the
carpet in one corner of the space just mentioned, letting me know
that a portion of the flooring, about sixteen inches square, had
been neatly cut out and again adjusted. As he pressed, this
portion rose up at one end sufficiently to allow the passage of
his finger beneath. In this manner he raised the mouth of the
trap (to which the carpet was still fastened by tacks), and I
found that it led into the after hold. He next lit a small taper
by means of a phosphorous match, and, placing the light in a dark
lantern, descended with it through the opening, bidding me
follow. I did so, and he then pulled the cover upon the hole, by
means of a nail driven into the under side—the carpet, of course,
resuming its original position on the floor of the stateroom, and
all traces of the aperture being concealed.
The taper gave out so feeble a ray that it was with the greatest
difficulty I could grope my way through the confused mass of
lumber among which I now found myself. By degrees, however, my
eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and I proceeded with less
trouble, holding on to the skirts of my friend’s coat. He brought
me, at length, after creeping and winding through innumerable
narrow passages, to an iron-bound box, such as is used sometimes
for packing fine earthenware. It was nearly four feet high, and
full six long, but very narrow. Two large empty oil-casks lay on
the top of it, and above these, again, a vast quantity of straw
matting, piled up as high as the floor of the cabin. In every
other direction around was wedged as closely as possible, even up
to the ceiling, a complete chaos of almost every species of
ship-furniture, together with a heterogeneous medley of crates,
hampers, barrels, and bales, so that it seemed a matter no less
than miraculous that we had discovered any passage at all to the
box. I afterward found that Augustus had purposely arranged the
stowage in this hold with a view to affording me a thorough
concealment, having had only one assistant in the labour, a man
not going out in the brig.
My companion now showed me that one of the ends of the box could
be removed at pleasure. He slipped it aside and displayed the
interior, at which I was excessively amused. A mattress from one
of the cabin berths covered the whole of its bottom, and it
contained almost every article of mere comfort which could be
crowded into so small a space, allowing me, at the same time,
sufficient room for my accommodation, either in a sitting
position or lying at full length. Among other things, there were
some books, pen, ink, and paper, three blankets, a large jug full
of water, a keg of sea-biscuit, three or four immense Bologna
sausages, an enormous ham, a cold leg of roast mutton, and half a
dozen bottles of cordials and liqueurs. I proceeded immediately
to take possession of my little apartment, and this with feelings
of higher satisfaction, I am sure, than any monarch ever
experienced upon entering a new palace. Augustus now pointed out
to me the method of fastening the open end of the box, and then,
holding the taper close to the deck, showed me a piece of dark
whipcord lying along it. This, he said, extended from my
hiding-place throughout all the necessary windings among the
lumber, to a nail which was driven into the deck of the hold,
immediately beneath the trap-door leading into his stateroom. By
means of this cord I should be enabled readily to trace my way
out without his guidance, provided any unlooked-for accident
should render such a step necessary. He now took his departure,
leaving with me the lantern, together with a copious supply of
tapers and phosphorous, and promising to pay me a visit as often
as he could contrive to do so without observation. This was on
the seventeenth of June.
I remained three days and nights (as nearly as I could guess) in
my hiding-place without getting out of it at all, except twice
for the purpose of stretching my limbs by standing erect between
two crates just opposite the opening. During the whole period I
saw nothing of Augustus; but this occasioned me little
uneasiness, as I knew the brig was expected to put to sea every
hour, and in the bustle he would not easily find opportunities of
coming down to me. At length I heard the trap open and shut, and
presently he called in a low voice, asking if all was well, and
if there was any thing I wanted. “Nothing,” I replied; “I am as
comfortable as can be; when will the brig sail?” “She will be
under weigh in less than half an hour,” he answered. “I came to
let you know, and for fear you should be uneasy at my absence. I
shall not have a chance of coming down again for some
time—perhaps for three or four days more. All is going on right
aboveboard. After I go up and close the trap, do you creep along
by the whipcord to where the nail is driven in. You will find my
watch there—it may be useful to you, as you have no daylight to
keep time by. I suppose you can’t tell how long you have been
buried—only three days—this is the twentieth. I would bring the
watch to your box, but am afraid of being missed.” With this he
went up.
In about an hour after he had gone I distinctly felt the brig in
motion, and congratulated myself upon having at length fairly
commenced a voyage. Satisfied with this idea, I determined to
make my mind as easy as possible, and await the course of events
until I should be permitted to exchange the box for the more
roomy, although hardly more comfortable, accommodations of the
cabin. My first care was to get the watch. Leaving the taper
burning, I groped along in the dark, following the cord through
windings innumerable, in some of which I discovered that, after
toiling a long distance, I was brought back within a foot or two
of a former position. At length I reached the nail, and securing
the object of my journey, returned with it in safety. I now
looked over the books which had been so thoughtfully provided,
and selected the expedition of Lewis and Clarke to the mouth of
the Columbia. With this I amused myself for some time, when,
growing sleepy, I extinguished the light with great care, and
soon fell into a sound slumber.
Upon awakening I felt strangely confused in mind, and some time
elapsed before I could bring to recollection all the various
circumstances of my situation. By degrees, however, I remembered
all. Striking a light, I looked at the watch; but it was run
down, and there were, consequently, no means of determining how
long I slept. My limbs were greatly cramped, and I was forced to
relieve them by standing between the crates. Presently feeling an
almost ravenous appetite, I bethought myself of the cold mutton,
some of which I had eaten just before going to sleep, and found
excellent. What was my astonishment in discovering it to be in a
state of absolute putrefaction! This circumstance occasioned me
great disquietude; for, connecting it with the disorder of mind I
experienced upon awakening, I began to suppose that I must have
slept for an inordinately long period of time. The close
atmosphere of the hold might have had something to do with this,
and might, in the end, be productive of the most serious results.
My head ached excessively; I fancied that I drew every breath
with difficulty; and, in short, I was oppressed with a multitude
of gloomy feelings. Still I could not venture to make any
disturbance by opening the trap or otherwise, and, having wound
up the watch, contented myself as well as possible.
Throughout the whole of the next tedious twenty-four hours no
person came to my relief, and I could not help accusing Augustus
of the grossest inattention. What alarmed me chiefly was, that
the water in my jug was reduced to about half a pint, and I was
suffering much from thirst, having eaten freely of the Bologna
sausages after the loss of my mutton. I became very uneasy, and
could no longer take any interest in my books. I was overpowered,
too, with a desire to sleep, yet trembled at the thought of
indulging it, lest there might exist some pernicious influence,
like that of burning charcoal, in the confined air of the hold.
In the meantime the roll of the brig told me that we were far in
the main ocean, and a dull humming sound, which reached my ears
as if from an immense distance, convinced me no ordinary gale was
blowing. I could not imagine a reason for the absence of
Augustus. We were surely far enough advanced on our voyage to
allow of my going up. Some accident might have happened to
him—but I could think of none which would account for his
suffering me to remain so long a prisoner, except, indeed, his
having suddenly died or fallen overboard, and upon this idea I
could not dwell with any degree of patience. It was possible that
we had been baffled by head winds, and were still in the near
vicinity of Nantucket. This notion, however, I was forced to
abandon; for such being the case, the brig must have frequently
gone about; and I was entirely satisfied, from her continual
inclination to the larboard, that she had been sailing all along
with a steady breeze on her starboard quarter. Besides, granting
that we were still in the neighborhood of the island, why should
not Augustus have visited me and informed me of the circumstance?
Pondering in this manner upon the difficulties of my solitary and
cheerless condition, I resolved to wait yet another twenty-four
hours, when, if no relief were obtained, I would make my way to
the trap, and endeavour either to hold a parley with my friend,
or get at least a little fresh air through the opening, and a
further supply of water from the stateroom. While occupied with
this thought, however, I fell in spite of every exertion to the
contrary, into a state of profound sleep, or rather stupor. My
dreams were of the most terrific description. Every species of
calamity and horror befell me. Among other miseries I was
smothered to death between huge pillows, by demons of the most
ghastly and ferocious aspect. Immense serpents held me in their
embrace, and looked earnestly in my face with their fearfully
shining eyes. Then deserts, limitless, and of the most forlorn
and awe-inspiring character, spread themselves out before me.
Immensely tall trunks of trees, gray and leafless, rose up in
endless succession as far as the eye could reach. Their roots
were concealed in wide-spreading morasses, whose dreary water lay
intensely black, still, and altogether terrible, beneath. And the
strange trees seemed endowed with a human vitality, and waving to
and fro their skeleton arms, were crying to the silent waters for
mercy, in the shrill and piercing accents of the most acute agony
and despair. The scene changed; and I stood, naked and alone,
amidst the burning sand-plains of Sahara. At my feet lay crouched
a fierce lion of the tropics. Suddenly his wild eyes opened and
fell upon me. With a conclusive bound he sprang to his feet, and
laid bare his horrible teeth. In another instant there burst from
his red throat a roar like the thunder of the firmament, and I
fell impetuously to the earth. Stifling in a paroxysm of terror,
I at last found myself partially awake. My dream, then, was not
all a dream. Now, at least, I was in possession of my senses. The
paws of some huge and real monster were pressing heavily upon my
bosom—his hot breath was in my ear—and his white and ghastly
fangs were gleaming upon me through the gloom.
Had a thousand lives hung upon the movement of a limb or the
utterance of a syllable, I could have neither stirred nor spoken.
The beast, whatever it was, retained his position without
attempting any immediate violence, while I lay in an utterly
helpless, and, I fancied, a dying condition beneath him. I felt
that my powers of body and mind were fast leaving me—in a word,
that I was perishing, and perishing of sheer fright. My brain
swam—I grew deadly sick—my vision failed—even the glaring
eyeballs above me grew dim. Making a last strong effort, I at
length breathed a faint ejaculation to God, and resigned myself
to die. The sound of my voice seemed to arouse all the latent
fury of the animal. He precipitated himself at full length upon
my body; but what was my astonishment, when, with a long and low
whine, he commenced licking my face and hands with the greatest
eagerness, and with the most extravagant demonstration of
affection and joy! I was bewildered, utterly lost in
amazement—but I could not forget the peculiar whine of my
Newfoundland dog Tiger, and the odd manner of his caresses I well
knew. It was he. I experienced a sudden rush of blood to my
temples—a giddy and overpowering sense of deliverance and
reanimation. I rose hurriedly from the mattress upon which I had
been lying, and, throwing myself upon the neck of my faithful
follower and friend, relieved the long oppression of my bosom in
a flood of the most passionate tears.
As upon a former occasion my conceptions were in a state of the
greatest indistinctness and confusion after leaving the mattress.
For a long time I found it nearly impossible to connect any
ideas; but, by very slow degrees, my thinking faculties returned,
and I again called to memory the several incidents of my
condition. For the presence of Tiger I tried in vain to account;
and after busying myself with a thousand different conjectures
respecting him, was forced to content myself with rejoicing that
he was with me to share my dreary solitude, and render me comfort
by his caresses. Most people love their dogs—but for Tiger I had
an affection far more ardent than common; and never, certainly,
did any creature more truly deserve it. For seven years he had
been my inseparable companion, and in a multitude of instances
had given evidence of all the noble qualities for which we value
the animal. I had rescued him, when a puppy, from the clutches of
a malignant little villain in Nantucket who was leading him, with
a rope around his neck, to the water; and the grown dog repaid
the obligation, about three years afterward, by saving me from
the bludgeon of a street robber.
Getting now hold of the watch, I found, upon applying it to my
ear, that it had again run down; but at this I was not at all
surprised, being convinced, from the peculiar state of my
feelings, that I had slept, as before, for a very long period of
time, how long, it was of course impossible to say. I was burning
up with fever, and my thirst was almost intolerable. I felt about
the box for my little remaining supply of water, for I had no
light, the taper having burnt to the socket of the lantern, and
the phosphorus-box not coming readily to hand. Upon finding the
jug, however, I discovered it to be empty—Tiger, no doubt, having
been tempted to drink it, as well as to devour the remnant of
mutton, the bone of which lay, well picked, by the opening of the
box. The spoiled meat I could well spare, but my heart sank as I
thought of the water. I was feeble in the extreme—so much so that
I shook all over, as with an ague, at the slightest movement or
exertion. To add to my troubles, the brig was pitching and
rolling with great violence, and the oil-casks which lay upon my
box were in momentary danger of falling down, so as to block up
the only way of ingress or egress. I felt, also, terrible
sufferings from sea-sickness. These considerations determined me
to make my way, at all hazards, to the trap, and obtain immediate
relief, before I should be incapacitated from doing so
altogether. Having come to this resolve, I again felt about for
the phosphorus-box and tapers. The former I found after some
little trouble; but, not discovering the tapers as soon as I had
expected (for I remembered very nearly the spot in which I had
placed them), I gave up the search for the present, and bidding
Tiger lie quiet, began at once my journey toward the trap.
In this attempt my great feebleness became more than ever
apparent. It was with the utmost difficulty I could crawl along
at all, and very frequently my limbs sank suddenly from beneath
me; when, falling prostrate on my face, I would remain for some
minutes in a state bordering on insensibility. Still I struggled
forward by slow degrees, dreading every moment that I should
swoon amid the narrow and intricate windings of the lumber, in
which event I had nothing but death to expect as the result. At
length, upon making a push forward with all the energy I could
command, I struck my forehead violently against the sharp corner
of an iron-bound crate. The accident only stunned me for a few
moments; but I found, to my inexpressible grief, that the quick
and violent roll of the vessel had thrown the crate entirely
across my path, so as effectually to block up the passage. With
my utmost exertions I could not move it a single inch from its
position, it being closely wedged in among the surrounding boxes
and ship-furniture. It became necessary, therefore, enfeebled as
I was, either to leave the guidance of the whipcord and seek out
a new passage, or to climb over the obstacle, and resume the path
on the other side. The former alternative presented too many
difficulties and dangers to be thought of without a shudder. In
my present weak state of both mind and body, I should infallibly
lose my way if I attempted it, and perish miserably amid the
dismal and disgusting labyrinths of the hold. I proceeded,
therefore, without hesitation, to summon up all my remaining
strength and fortitude, and endeavour, as I best might, to
clamber over the crate.
Upon standing erect, with this end in view, I found the
undertaking even a more serious task than my fears had led me to
imagine. On each side of the narrow passage arose a complete wall
of various heavy lumber, which the least blunder on my part might
be the means of bringing down upon my head; or, if this accident
did not occur, the path might be effectually blocked up against
my return by the descending mass, as it was in front by the
obstacle there. The crate itself was a long and unwieldy box,
upon which no foothold could be obtained. In vain I attempted, by
every means in my power, to reach the top, with the hope of being
thus enabled to draw myself up. Had I succeeded in reaching it,
it is certain that my strength would have proved utterly
inadequate to the task of getting over, and it was better in
every respect that I failed. At length, in a desperate effort to
force the crate from its ground, I felt a strong vibration in the
side next me. I thrust my hand eagerly to the edge of the planks,
and found that a very large one was loose. With my pocket-knife,
which, luckily, I had with me, I succeeded, after great labour,
in prying it entirely off; and getting it through the aperture,
discovered, to my exceeding joy, that there were no boards on the
opposite side—in other words, that the top was wanting, it being
the bottom through which I had forced my way. I now met with no
important difficulty in proceeding along the line until I finally
reached the nail. With a beating heart I stood erect, and with a
gentle touch pressed against the cover of the trap. It did not
rise as soon as I had expected, and I pressed it with somewhat
more determination, still dreading lest some other person than
Augustus might be in his state-room. The door, however, to my
astonishment, remained steady, and I became somewhat uneasy, for
I knew that it had formerly required but little or no effort to
remove it. I pushed it strongly—it was nevertheless firm: with
all my strength—it still did not give way: with rage, with fury,
with despair—it set at defiance my utmost efforts; and it was
evident, from the unyielding nature of the resistance, that the
hole had either been discovered and effectually nailed up, or
that some immense weight had been placed upon it, which it was
useless to think of removing.
My sensations were those of extreme horror and dismay. In vain I
attempted to reason on the probable cause of my being thus
entombed. I could summon up no connected chain of reflection,
and, sinking on the floor, gave way, unresistingly, to the most
gloomy imaginings, in which the dreadful deaths of thirst,
famine, suffocation, and premature interment crowded upon me as
the prominent disasters to be encountered. At length there
returned to me some portion of presence of mind. I arose, and
felt with my fingers for the seams or cracks of the aperture.
Having found them, I examined them closely to ascertain if they
emitted any light from the state-room; but none was visible. I
then forced the blade of my pen-knife through them, until I met
with some hard obstacle. Scraping against it, I discovered it to
be a solid mass of iron, which, from its peculiar wavy feel as I
passed the blade along it, I concluded to be a chain-cable. The
only course now left me was to retrace my way to the box, and
there either yield to my sad fate, or try so to tranquilize my
mind as to admit of my arranging some plan of escape. I
immediately set about the attempt, and succeeded, after
innumerable difficulties, in getting back. As I sank, utterly
exhausted, upon the mattress, Tiger threw himself at full length
by my side, and seemed as if desirous, by his caresses, of
consoling me in my troubles, and urging me to bear them with
fortitude.
The singularity of his behavior at length forcibly arrested my
attention. After licking my face and hands for some minutes, he
would suddenly cease doing so, and utter a low whine. Upon
reaching out my hand toward him, I then invariably found him
lying on his back, with his paws uplifted. This conduct, so
frequently repeated, appeared strange, and I could in no manner
account for it. As the dog seemed distressed, I concluded that he
had received some injury; and, taking his paws in my hands, I
examined them one by one, but found no sign of any hurt. I then
supposed him hungry, and gave him a large piece of ham, which he
devoured with avidity—afterward, however, resuming his
extraordinary manoeuvres. I now imagined that he was suffering,
like myself, the torments of thirst, and was about adopting this
conclusion as the true one, when the idea occurred to me that I
had as yet only examined his paws, and that there might possibly
be a wound upon some portion of his body or head. The latter I
felt carefully over, but found nothing. On passing my hand,
however, along his back, I perceived a slight erection of the
hair extending completely across it. Probing this with my finger,
I discovered a string, and tracing it up, found that it encircled
the whole body. Upon a closer scrutiny, I came across a small
slip of what had the feeling of letter paper, through which the
string had been fastened in such a manner as to bring it
immediately beneath the left shoulder of the animal.
CHAPTER 3
The thought instantly occurred to me that the paper was a note
from Augustus, and that some unaccountable accident having
happened to prevent his relieving me from my dungeon, he had
devised this method of acquainting me with the true state of
affairs. Trembling with eagerness, I now commenced another search
for my phosphorus matches and tapers. I had a confused
recollection of having put them carefully away just before
falling asleep; and, indeed, previously to my last journey to the
trap, I had been able to remember the exact spot where I had
deposited them. But now I endeavored in vain to call it to mind,
and busied myself for a full hour in a fruitless and vexatious
search for the missing articles; never, surely, was there a more
tantalizing state of anxiety and suspense. At length, while
groping about, with my head close to the ballast, near the
opening of the box, and outside of it, I perceived a faint
glimmering of light in the direction of the steerage. Greatly
surprised, I endeavored to make my way toward it, as it appeared
to be but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved with
this intention, when I lost sight of the glimmer entirely, and,
before I could bring it into view again, was obliged to feel
along by the box until I had exactly resumed my original
situation. Now, moving my head with caution to and fro, I found
that, by proceeding slowly, with great care, in an opposite
direction to that in which I had at first started, I was enabled
to draw near the light, still keeping it in view. Presently I
came directly upon it (having squeezed my way through innumerable
narrow windings), and found that it proceeded from some fragments
of my matches lying in an empty barrel turned upon its side. I
was wondering how they came in such a place, when my hand fell
upon two or three pieces of taper wax, which had been evidently
mumbled by the dog. I concluded at once that he had devoured the
whole of my supply of candles, and I felt hopeless of being ever
able to read the note of Augustus. The small remnants of the wax
were so mashed up among other rubbish in the barrel, that I
despaired of deriving any service from them, and left them as
they were. The phosphorus, of which there was only a speck or
two, I gathered up as well as I could, and returned with it,
after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all the while
remained.
What to do next I could not tell. The hold was so intensely dark
that I could not see my hand, however close I would hold it to my
face. The white slip of paper could barely be discerned, and not
even that when I looked at it directly; by turning the exterior
portions of the retina toward it—that is to say, by surveying it
slightly askance, I found that it became in some measure
perceptible. Thus the gloom of my prison may be imagined, and the
note of my friend, if indeed it were a note from him, seemed only
likely to throw me into further trouble, by disquieting to no
purpose my already enfeebled and agitated mind. In vain I
revolved in my brain a multitude of absurd expedients for
procuring light—such expedients precisely as a man in the
perturbed sleep occasioned by opium would be apt to fall upon for
a similar purpose—each and all of which appear by turns to the
dreamer the most reasonable and the most preposterous of
conceptions, just as the reasoning or imaginative faculties
flicker, alternately, one above the other. At last an idea
occurred to me which seemed rational, and which gave me cause to
wonder, very justly, that I had not entertained it before. I
placed the slip of paper on the back of a book, and, collecting
the fragments of the phosphorus matches which I had brought from
the barrel, laid them together upon the paper. I then, with the
palm of my hand, rubbed the whole over quickly, yet steadily. A
clear light diffused itself immediately throughout the whole
surface; and had there been any writing upon it, I should not
have experienced the least difficulty, I am sure, in reading it.
Not a syllable was there, however—nothing but a dreary and
unsatisfactory blank; the illumination died away in a few
seconds, and my heart died away within me as it went.
I have before stated more than once that my intellect, for some
period prior to this, had been in a condition nearly bordering on
idiocy. There were, to be sure, momentary intervals of perfect
sanity, and, now and then, even of energy; but these were few. It
must be remembered that I had been, for many days certainly,
inhaling the almost pestilential atmosphere of a close hold in a
whaling vessel, and for a long portion of that time but scantily
supplied with water. For the last fourteen or fifteen hours I had
none—nor had I slept during that time. Salt provisions of the
most exciting kind had been my chief, and, indeed, since the loss
of the mutton, my only supply of food, with the exception of the
sea-biscuit; and these latter were utterly useless to me, as they
were too dry and hard to be swallowed in the swollen and parched
condition of my throat. I was now in a high state of fever, and
in every respect exceedingly ill. This will account for the fact
that many miserable hours of despondency elapsed after my last
adventure with the phosphorus, before the thought suggested
itself that I had examined only one side of the paper. I shall
not attempt to describe my feelings of rage (for I believe I was
more angry than any thing else) when the egregious oversight I
had committed flashed suddenly upon my perception. The blunder
itself would have been unimportant, had not my own folly and
impetuosity rendered it otherwise—in my disappointment at not
finding some words upon the slip, I had childishly torn it in
pieces and thrown it away, it was impossible to say where.
From the worst part of this dilemma I was relieved by the
sagacity of Tiger. Having got, after a long search, a small piece
of the note, I put it to the dog’s nose, and endeavored to make
him understand that he must bring me the rest of it. To my
astonishment, (for I had taught him none of the usual tricks for
which his breed are famous,) he seemed to enter at once into my
meaning, and, rummaging about for a few moments, soon found
another considerable portion. Bringing me this, he paused awhile,
and, rubbing his nose against my hand, appeared to be waiting for
my approval of what he had done. I patted him on the head, when
he immediately made off again. It was now some minutes before he
came back—but when he did come, he brought with him a large slip,
which proved to be all the paper missing—it having been torn, it
seems, only into three pieces. Luckily, I had no trouble in
finding what few fragments of the phosphorus were left—being
guided by the indistinct glow one or two of the particles still
emitted. My difficulties had taught me the necessity of caution,
and I now took time to reflect upon what I was about to do. It
was very probable, I considered, that some words were written
upon that side of the paper which had not been examined—but which
side was that? Fitting the pieces together gave me no clew in
this respect, although it assured me that the words (if there
were any) would be found all on one side, and connected in a
proper manner, as written. There was the greater necessity of
ascertaining the point in question beyond a doubt, as the
phosphorus remaining would be altogether insufficient for a third
attempt, should I fail in the one I was now about to make. I
placed the paper on a book as before, and sat for some minutes
thoughtfully revolving the matter over in my mind. At last I
thought it barely possible that the written side might have some
unevenness on its surface, which a delicate sense of feeling
might enable me to detect. I determined to make the experiment
and passed my finger very carefully over the side which first
presented itself. Nothing, however, was perceptible, and I turned
the paper, adjusting it on the book. I now again carried my
forefinger cautiously along, when I was aware of an exceedingly
slight, but still discernable glow, which followed as it
proceeded. This, I knew, must arise from some very minute
remaining particles of the phosphorus with which I had covered
the paper in my previous attempt. The other, or under side, then,
was that on which lay the writing, if writing there should
finally prove to be. Again I turned the note, and went to work as
I had previously done. Having rubbed in the phosphorus, a
brilliancy ensued as before—but this time several lines of MS. in
a large hand, and apparently in red ink, became distinctly
visible. The glimmer, although sufficiently bright, was but
momentary. Still, had I not been too greatly excited, there would
have been ample time enough for me to peruse the whole three
sentences before me—for I saw there were three. In my anxiety,
however, to read all at once, I succeeded only in reading the
seven concluding words, which thus appeared—“blood—your life
depends upon lying close.”
Had I been able to ascertain the entire contents of the note—the
full meaning of the admonition which my friend had thus attempted
to convey, that admonition, even although it should have revealed
a story of disaster the most unspeakable, could not, I am firmly
convinced, have imbued my mind with one tithe of the harrowing
and yet indefinable horror with which I was inspired by the
fragmentary warning thus received. And “blood,” too, that word of
all words—so rife at all times with mystery, and suffering, and
terror—how trebly full of import did it now appear—how chilly and
heavily (disjointed, as it thus was, from any foregoing words to
qualify or render it distinct) did its vague syllables fall, amid
the deep gloom of my prison, into the innermost recesses of my
soul!
Augustus had, undoubtedly, good reasons for wishing me to remain
concealed, and I formed a thousand surmises as to what they could
be—but I could think of nothing affording a satisfactory solution
of the mystery. Just after returning from my last journey to the
trap, and before my attention had been otherwise directed by the
singular conduct of Tiger, I had come to the resolution of making
myself heard at all events by those on board, or, if I could not
succeed in this directly, of trying to cut my way through the
orlop deck. The half certainty which I felt of being able to
accomplish one of these two purposes in the last emergency, had
given me courage (which I should not otherwise have had) to
endure the evils of my situation. The few words I had been able
to read, however, had cut me off from these final resources, and
I now, for the first time, felt all the misery of my fate. In a
paroxysm of despair I threw myself again upon the mattress,
where, for about the period of a day and night, I lay in a kind
of stupor, relieved only by momentary intervals of reason and
recollection.
At length I once more arose, and busied myself in reflection upon
the horrors which encompassed me. For another twenty-four hours
it was barely possible that I might exist without water—for a
longer time I could not do so. During the first portion of my
imprisonment I had made free use of the cordials with which
Augustus had supplied me, but they only served to excite fever,
without in the least degree assuaging thirst. I had now only
about a gill left, and this was of a species of strong peach
liqueur at which my stomach revolted. The sausages were entirely
consumed; of the ham nothing remained but a small piece of the
skin; and all the biscuit, except a few fragments of one, had
been eaten by Tiger. To add to my troubles, I found that my
headache was increasing momentarily, and with it the species of
delirium which had distressed me more or less since my first
falling asleep. For some hours past it had been with the greatest
difficulty I could breathe at all, and now each attempt at so
doing was attended with the most depressing spasmodic action of
the chest. But there was still another and very different source
of disquietude, and one, indeed, whose harassing terrors had been
the chief means of arousing me to exertion from my stupor on the
mattress. It arose from the demeanor of the dog.
I first observed an alteration in his conduct while rubbing in
the phosphorus on the paper in my last attempt. As I rubbed, he
ran his nose against my hand with a slight snarl; but I was too
greatly excited at the time to pay much attention to the
circumstance. Soon afterward, it will be remembered, I threw
myself on the mattress, and fell into a species of lethargy.
Presently I became aware of a singular hissing sound close at my
ears, and discovered it to proceed from Tiger, who was panting
and wheezing in a state of the greatest apparent excitement, his
eyeballs flashing fiercely through the gloom. I spoke to him,
when he replied with a low growl, and then remained quiet.
Presently I relapsed into my stupor, from which I was again
awakened in a similar manner. This was repeated three or four
times, until finally his behaviour inspired me with so great a
degree of fear, that I became fully aroused. He was now lying
close by the door of the box, snarling fearfully, although in a
kind of undertone, and grinding his teeth as if strongly
convulsed. I had no doubt whatever that the want of water or the
confined atmosphere of the hold had driven him mad, and I was at
a loss what course to pursue. I could not endure the thought of
killing him, yet it seemed absolutely necessary for my own
safety. I could distinctly perceive his eyes fastened upon me
with an expression of the most deadly animosity, and I expected
every instant that he would attack me. At last I could endure my
terrible situation no longer, and determined to make my way from
the box at all hazards, and dispatch him, if his opposition
should render it necessary for me to do so. To get out, I had to
pass directly over his body, and he already seemed to anticipate
my design—missing himself upon his fore-legs (as I perceived by
the altered position of his eyes), and displayed the whole of his
white fangs, which were easily discernible. I took the remains of
the ham-skin, and the bottle containing the liqueur, and secured
them about my person, together with a large carving-knife which
Augustus had left me—then, folding my cloak around me as closely
as possible, I made a movement toward the mouth of the box. No
sooner did I do this, than the dog sprang with a loud growl
toward my throat. The whole weight of his body struck me on the
right shoulder, and I fell violently to the left, while the
enraged animal passed entirely over me. I had fallen upon my
knees, with my head buried among the blankets, and these
protected me from a second furious assault, during which I felt
the sharp teeth pressing vigorously upon the woollen which
enveloped my neck—yet, luckily, without being able to penetrate
all the folds. I was now beneath the dog, and a few moments would
place me completely in his power. Despair gave me strength, and I
rose boldly up, shaking him from me by main force, and dragging
with me the blankets from the mattress. These I now threw over
him, and before he could extricate himself, I had got through the
door and closed it effectually against his pursuit. In this
struggle, however, I had been forced to drop the morsel of
ham-skin, and I now found my whole stock of provisions reduced to
a single gill of liqueur. As this reflection crossed my mind, I
felt myself actuated by one of those fits of perverseness which
might be supposed to influence a spoiled child in similar
circumstances, and, raising the bottle to my lips, I drained it
to the last drop, and dashed it furiously upon the floor.
Scarcely had the echo of the crash died away, when I heard my
name pronounced in an eager but subdued voice, issuing from the
direction of the steerage. So unexpected was anything of the
kind, and so intense was the emotion excited within me by the
sound, that I endeavoured in vain to reply. My powers of speech
totally failed, and in an agony of terror lest my friend should
conclude me dead, and return without attempting to reach me, I
stood up between the crates near the door of the box, trembling
convulsively, and gasping and struggling for utterance. Had a
thousand words depended upon a syllable, I could not have spoken
it. There was a slight movement now audible among the lumber
somewhere forward of my station. The sound presently grew less
distinct, then again less so, and still less. Shall I ever forget
my feelings at this moment? He was going—my friend, my companion,
from whom I had a right to expect so much—he was going—he would
abandon me—he was gone! He would leave me to perish miserably, to
expire in the most horrible and loathesome of dungeons—and one
word, one little syllable, would save me—yet that single syllable
I could not utter! I felt, I am sure, more than ten thousand
times the agonies of death itself. My brain reeled, and I fell,
deadly sick, against the end of the box.
As I fell the carving-knife was shaken out from the waist-band of
my pantaloons, and dropped with a rattling sound to the floor.
Never did any strain of the richest melody come so sweetly to my
ears! With the intensest anxiety I listened to ascertain the
effect of the noise upon Augustus—for I knew that the person who
called my name could be no one but himself. All was silent for
some moments. At length I again heard the word “Arthur!” repeated
in a low tone, and one full of hesitation. Reviving hope loosened
at once my powers of speech, and I now screamed at the top of my
voice, “Augustus! oh, Augustus!” “Hush! for God’s sake be
silent!” he replied, in a voice trembling with agitation; “I will
be with you immediately—as soon as I can make my way through the
hold.” For a long time I heard him moving among the lumber, and
every moment seemed to me an age. At length I felt his hand upon
my shoulder, and he placed, at the same moment, a bottle of water
to my lips. Those only who have been suddenly redeemed from the
jaws of the tomb, or who have known the insufferable torments of
thirst under circumstances as aggravated as those which
encompassed me in my dreary prison, can form any idea of the
unutterable transports which that one long draught of the richest
of all physical luxuries afforded.
When I had in some degree satisfied my thirst, Augustus produced
from his pocket three or four boiled potatoes, which I devoured
with the greatest avidity. He had brought with him a light in a
dark lantern, and the grateful rays afforded me scarcely less
comfort than the food and drink. But I was impatient to learn the
cause of his protracted absence, and he proceeded to recount what
had happened on board during my incarceration.
CHAPTER 4
The brig put to sea, as I had supposed, in about an hour after he
had left the watch. This was on the twentieth of June. It will be
remembered that I had then been in the hold for three days; and,
during this period, there was so constant a bustle on board, and
so much running to and fro, especially in the cabin and
staterooms, that he had had no chance of visiting me without the
risk of having the secret of the trap discovered. When at length
he did come, I had assured him that I was doing as well as
possible; and, therefore, for the two next days he felt but
little uneasiness on my account—still, however, watching an
opportunity of going down. It was not until the fourth day that
he found one. Several times during this interval he had made up
his mind to let his father know of the adventure, and have me
come up at once; but we were still within reaching distance of
Nantucket, and it was doubtful, from some expressions which had
escaped Captain Barnard, whether he would not immediately put
back if he discovered me to be on board. Besides, upon thinking
the matter over, Augustus, so he told me, could not imagine that
I was in immediate want, or that I would hesitate, in such case,
to make myself heard at the trap. When, therefore, he considered
everything he concluded to let me stay until he could meet with
an opportunity of visiting me unobserved. This, as I said before,
did not occur until the fourth day after his bringing me the
watch, and the seventh since I had first entered the hold. He
then went down without taking with him any water or provisions,
intending in the first place merely to call my attention, and get
me to come from the box to the trap,—when he would go up to the
stateroom and thence hand me down a supply. When he descended for
this purpose he found that I was asleep, for it seems that I was
snoring very loudly. From all the calculations I can make on the
subject, this must have been the slumber into which I fell just
after my return from the trap with the watch, and which,
consequently, must have lasted for more than three entire days
and nights at the very least. Latterly, I have had reason both
from my own experience and the assurance of others, to be
acquainted with the strong soporific effects of the stench
arising from old fish-oil when closely confined; and when I think
of the condition of the hold in which I was imprisoned, and the
long period during which the brig had been used as a whaling
vessel, I am more inclined to wonder that I awoke at all, after
once falling asleep, than that I should have slept
uninterruptedly for the period specified above.
Augustus called to me at first in a low voice and without closing
the trap—but I made him no reply. He then shut the trap, and
spoke to me in a louder, and finally in a very loud tone—still I
continued to snore. He was now at a loss what to do. It would
take him some time to make his way through the lumber to my box,
and in the meanwhile his absence would be noticed by Captain
Barnard, who had occasion for his services every minute, in
arranging and copying papers connected with the business of the
voyage. He determined, therefore, upon reflection, to ascend, and
await another opportunity of visiting me. He was the more easily
induced to this resolve, as my slumber appeared to be of the most
tranquil nature, and he could not suppose that I had undergone
any inconvenience from my incarceration. He had just made up his
mind on these points when his attention was arrested by an
unusual bustle, the sound of which proceeded apparently from the
cabin. He sprang through the trap as quickly as possible, closed
it, and threw open the door of his stateroom. No sooner had he
put his foot over the threshold than a pistol flashed in his
face, and he was knocked down, at the same moment, by a blow from
a handspike.
A strong hand held him on the cabin floor, with a tight grasp
upon his throat; still he was able to see what was going on
around him. His father was tied hand and foot, and lying along
the steps of the companion-way, with his head down, and a deep
wound in the forehead, from which the blood was flowing in a
continued stream. He spoke not a word, and was apparently dying.
Over him stood the first mate, eyeing him with an expression of
fiendish derision, and deliberately searching his pockets, from
which he presently drew forth a large wallet and a chronometer.
Seven of the crew (among whom was the cook, a negro) were
rummaging the staterooms on the larboard for arms, where they
soon equipped themselves with muskets and ammunition. Besides
Augustus and Captain Barnard, there were nine men altogether in
the cabin, and these among the most ruffianly of the brig’s
company. The villains now went upon deck, taking my friend with
them after having secured his arms behind his back. They
proceeded straight to the forecastle, which was fastened down—two
of the mutineers standing by it with axes—two also at the main
hatch. The mate called out in a loud voice: “Do you hear there
below? tumble up with you, one by one—now, mark that—and no
grumbling!” It was some minutes before any one appeared:—at last
an Englishman, who had shipped as a raw hand, came up, weeping
piteously, and entreating the mate, in the most humble manner, to
spare his life. The only reply was a blow on the forehead from an
axe. The poor fellow fell to the deck without a groan, and the
black cook lifted him up in his arms as he would a child, and
tossed him deliberately into the sea. Hearing the blow and the
plunge of the body, the men below could now be induced to venture
on deck neither by threats nor promises, until a proposition was
made to smoke them out. A general rush then ensued, and for a
moment it seemed possible that the brig might be retaken. The
mutineers, however, succeeded at last in closing the forecastle
effectually before more than six of their opponents could get up.
These six, finding themselves so greatly outnumbered and without
arms, submitted after a brief struggle. The mate gave them fair
words—no doubt with a view of inducing those below to yield, for
they had no difficulty in hearing all that was said on deck. The
result proved his sagacity, no less than his diabolical villainy.
All in the forecastle presently signified their intention of
submitting, and, ascending one by one, were pinioned and then
thrown on their backs, together with the first six—there being in
all, of the crew who were not concerned in the mutiny,
twenty-seven.
A scene of the most horrible butchery ensued. The bound seamen
were dragged to the gangway. Here the cook stood with an axe,
striking each victim on the head as he was forced over the side
of the vessel by the other mutineers. In this manner twenty-two
perished, and Augustus had given himself up for lost, expecting
every moment his own turn to come next. But it seemed that the
villains were now either weary, or in some measure disgusted with
their bloody labour; for the four remaining prisoners, together
with my friend, who had been thrown on the deck with the rest,
were respited while the mate sent below for rum, and the whole
murderous party held a drunken carouse, which lasted until
sunset. They now fell to disputing in regard to the fate of the
survivors, who lay not more than four paces off, and could
distinguish every word said. Upon some of the mutineers the
liquor appeared to have a softening effect, for several voices
were heard in favor of releasing the captives altogether, on
condition of joining the mutiny and sharing the profits. The
black cook, however (who in all respects was a perfect demon, and
who seemed to exert as much influence, if not more, than the mate
himself), would listen to no proposition of the kind, and rose
repeatedly for the purpose of resuming his work at the gangway.
Fortunately he was so far overcome by intoxication as to be
easily restrained by the less bloodthirsty of the party, among
whom was a line-manager, who went by the name of Dirk Peters.
This man was the son of an Indian squaw of the tribe of
Upsarokas, who live among the fastnesses of the Black Hills, near
the source of the Missouri. His father was a fur-trader, I
believe, or at least connected in some manner with the Indian
trading-posts on Lewis river. Peters himself was one of the most
ferocious-looking men I ever beheld. He was short in stature, not
more than four feet eight inches high, but his limbs were of
Herculean mould. His hands, especially, were so enormously thick
and broad as hardly to retain a human shape. His arms, as well as
legs, were bowed in the most singular manner, and appeared to
possess no flexibility whatever. His head was equally deformed,
being of immense size, with an indentation on the crown (like
that on the head of most negroes), and entirely bald. To conceal
this latter deficiency, which did not proceed from old age, he
usually wore a wig formed of any hair-like material which
presented itself—occasionally the skin of a Spanish dog or
American grizzly bear. At the time spoken of, he had on a portion
of one of these bearskins; and it added no little to the natural
ferocity of his countenance, which betook of the Upsaroka
character. The mouth extended nearly from ear to ear, the lips
were thin, and seemed, like some other portions of his frame, to
be devoid of natural pliancy, so that the ruling expression never
varied under the influence of any emotion whatever. This ruling
expression may be conceived when it is considered that the teeth
were exceedingly long and protruding, and never even partially
covered, in any instance, by the lips. To pass this man with a
casual glance, one might imagine him to be convulsed with
laughter, but a second look would induce a shuddering
acknowledgment, that if such an expression were indicative of
merriment, the merriment must be that of a demon. Of this
singular being many anecdotes were prevalent among the seafaring
men of Nantucket. These anecdotes went to prove his prodigious
strength when under excitement, and some of them had given rise
to a doubt of his sanity. But on board the Grampus, it seems, he
was regarded, at the time of the mutiny, with feelings more of
derision than of anything else. I have been thus particular in
speaking of Dirk Peters, because, ferocious as he appeared, he
proved the main instrument in preserving the life of Augustus,
and because I shall have frequent occasion to mention him
hereafter in the course of my narrative—a narrative, let me here
say, which, in its latter portions, will be found to include
incidents of a nature so entirely out of the range of human
experience, and for this reason so far beyond the limits of human
credulity, that I proceed in utter hopelessness of obtaining
credence for all that I shall tell, yet confidently trusting in
time and progressing science to verify some of the most important
and most improbable of my statements.
After much indecision and two or three violent quarrels, it was
determined at last that all the prisoners (with the exception of
Augustus, whom Peters insisted in a jocular manner upon keeping
as his clerk) should be set adrift in one of the smallest
whaleboats. The mate went down into the cabin to see if Captain
Barnard was still living—for, it will be remembered, he was left
below when the mutineers came up. Presently the two made their
appearance, the captain pale as death, but somewhat recovered
from the effects of his wound. He spoke to the men in a voice
hardly articulate, entreated them not to set him adrift, but to
return to their duty, and promising to land them wherever they
chose, and to take no steps for bringing them to justice. He
might as well have spoken to the winds. Two of the ruffians
seized him by the arms and hurled him over the brig’s side into
the boat, which had been lowered while the mate went below. The
four men who were lying on the deck were then untied and ordered
to follow, which they did without attempting any
resistance—Augustus being still left in his painful position,
although he struggled and prayed only for the poor satisfaction
of being permitted to bid his father farewell. A handful of
sea-biscuit and a jug of water were now handed down; but neither
mast, sail, oar, nor compass. The boat was towed astern for a few
minutes, during which the mutineers held another consultation—it
was then finally cut adrift. By this time night had come on—there
were neither moon nor stars visible—and a short and ugly sea was
running, although there was no great deal of wind. The boat was
instantly out of sight, and little hope could be entertained for
the unfortunate sufferers who were in it. This event happened,
however, in latitude 35 degrees 30’ north, longitude 61 degrees
20’ west, and consequently at no very great distance from the
Bermuda Islands. Augustus therefore endeavored to console himself
with the idea that the boat might either succeed in reaching the
land, or come sufficiently near to be fallen in with by vessels
off the coast.
All sail was now put upon the brig, and she continued her
original course to the southwest—the mutineers being bent upon
some piratical expedition, in which, from all that could be
understood, a ship was to be intercepted on her way from the Cape
Verd Islands to Porto Rico. No attention was paid to Augustus,
who was untied and suffered to go about anywhere forward of the
cabin companion-way. Dirk Peters treated him with some degree of
kindness, and on one occasion saved him from the brutality of the
cook. His situation was still one of the most precarious, as the
men were continually intoxicated, and there was no relying upon
their continued good-humor or carelessness in regard to himself.
His anxiety on my account he represented, however, as the most
distressing result of his condition; and, indeed, I had never
reason to doubt the sincerity of his friendship. More than once
he had resolved to acquaint the mutineers with the secret of my
being on board, but was restrained from so doing, partly through
recollection of the atrocities he had already beheld, and partly
through a hope of being able soon to bring me relief. For the
latter purpose he was constantly on the watch; but, in spite of
the most constant vigilance, three days elapsed after the boat
was cut adrift before any chance occurred. At length, on the
night of the third day, there came on a heavy blow from the
eastward, and all hands were called up to take in sail. During
the confusion which ensued, he made his way below unobserved, and
into the stateroom. What was his grief and horror in discovering
that the latter had been rendered a place of deposit for a
variety of sea-stores and ship-furniture, and that several
fathoms of old chain-cable, which had been stowed away beneath
the companion-ladder, had been dragged thence to make room for a
chest, and were now lying immediately upon the trap! To remove it
without discovery was impossible, and he returned on deck as
quickly as he could. As he came up, the mate seized him by the
throat, and demanding what he had been doing in the cabin, was
about flinging him over the larboard bulwark, when his life was
again preserved through the interference of Dirk Peters. Augustus
was now put in handcuffs (of which there were several pairs on
board), and his feet lashed tightly together. He was then taken
into the steerage, and thrown into a lower berth next to the
forecastle bulkheads, with the assurance that he should never put
his foot on deck again “until the brig was no longer a brig.”
This was the expression of the cook, who threw him into the
berth—it is hardly possible to say what precise meaning intended
by the phrase. The whole affair, however, proved the ultimate
means of my relief, as will presently appear.
CHAPTER 5
For some minutes after the cook had left the forecastle, Augustus
abandoned himself to despair, never hoping to leave the berth
alive. He now came to the resolution of acquainting the first of
the men who should come down with my situation, thinking it
better to let me take my chance with the mutineers than perish of
thirst in the hold,—for it had been ten days since I was first
imprisoned, and my jug of water was not a plentiful supply even
for four. As he was thinking on this subject, the idea came all
at once into his head that it might be possible to communicate
with me by the way of the main hold. In any other circumstances,
the difficulty and hazard of the undertaking would have prevented
him from attempting it; but now he had, at all events, little
prospect of life, and consequently little to lose, he bent his
whole mind, therefore, upon the task.
His handcuffs were the first consideration. At first he saw no
method of removing them, and feared that he should thus be
baffled in the very outset; but upon a closer scrutiny he
discovered that the irons could be slipped off and on at
pleasure, with very little effort or inconvenience, merely by
squeezing his hands through them,—this species of manacle being
altogether ineffectual in confining young persons, in whom the
smaller bones readily yield to pressure. He now untied his feet,
and, leaving the cord in such a manner that it could easily be
readjusted in the event of any person’s coming down, proceeded to
examine the bulkhead where it joined the berth. The partition
here was of soft pine board, an inch thick, and he saw that he
should have little trouble in cutting his way through. A voice
was now heard at the forecastle companion-way, and he had just
time to put his right hand into its handcuff (the left had not
been removed) and to draw the rope in a slipknot around his
ankle, when Dirk Peters came below, followed by Tiger, who
immediately leaped into the berth and lay down. The dog had been
brought on board by Augustus, who knew my attachment to the
animal, and thought it would give me pleasure to have him with me
during the voyage. He went up to our house for him immediately
after first taking me into the hold, but did not think of
mentioning the circumstance upon his bringing the watch. Since
the mutiny, Augustus had not seen him before his appearance with
Dirk Peters, and had given him up for lost, supposing him to have
been thrown overboard by some of the malignant villains belonging
to the mate’s gang. It appeared afterward that he had crawled
into a hole beneath a whale-boat, from which, not having room to
turn round, he could not extricate himself. Peters at last let
him out, and, with a species of good feeling which my friend knew
well how to appreciate, had now brought him to him in the
forecastle as a companion, leaving at the same time some salt
junk and potatoes, with a can of water, he then went on deck,
promising to come down with something more to eat on the next
day.
When he had gone, Augustus freed both hands from the manacles and
unfastened his feet. He then turned down the head of the mattress
on which he had been lying, and with his penknife (for the
ruffians had not thought it worth while to search him) commenced
cutting vigorously across one of the partition planks, as closely
as possible to the floor of the berth. He chose to cut here,
because, if suddenly interrupted, he would be able to conceal
what had been done by letting the head of the mattress fall into
its proper position. For the remainder of the day, however, no
disturbance occurred, and by night he had completely divided the
plank. It should here be observed that none of the crew occupied
the forecastle as a sleeping-place, living altogether in the
cabin since the mutiny, drinking the wines and feasting on the
sea-stores of Captain Barnard, and giving no more heed than was
absolutely necessary to the navigation of the brig. These
circumstances proved fortunate both for myself and Augustus; for,
had matters been otherwise, he would have found it impossible to
reach me. As it was, he proceeded with confidence in his design.
It was near daybreak, however, before he completed the second
division of the board (which was about a foot above the first
cut), thus making an aperture quite large enough to admit his
passage through with facility to the main orlop deck. Having got
here, he made his way with but little trouble to the lower main
hatch, although in so doing he had to scramble over tiers of
oil-casks piled nearly as high as the upper deck, there being
barely room enough left for his body. Upon reaching the hatch he
found that Tiger had followed him below, squeezing between two
rows of the casks. It was now too late, however, to attempt
getting to me before dawn, as the chief difficulty lay in passing
through the close stowage in the lower hold. He therefore
resolved to return, and wait till the next night. With this
design, he proceeded to loosen the hatch, so that he might have
as little detention as possible when he should come again. No
sooner had he loosened it than Tiger sprang eagerly to the small
opening produced, snuffed for a moment, and then uttered a long
whine, scratching at the same time, as if anxious to remove the
covering with his paws. There could be no doubt, from his
behaviour, that he was aware of my being in the hold, and
Augustus thought it possible that he would be able to get to me
if he put him down. He now hit upon the expedient of sending the
note, as it was especially desirable that I should make no
attempt at forcing my way out at least under existing
circumstances, and there could be no certainty of his getting to
me himself on the morrow as he intended. After-events proved how
fortunate it was that the idea occurred to him as it did; for,
had it not been for the receipt of the note, I should undoubtedly
have fallen upon some plan, however desperate, of alarming the
crew, and both our lives would most probably have been sacrificed
in consequence.
Having concluded to write, the difficulty was now to procure the
materials for so doing. An old toothpick was soon made into a
pen; and this by means of feeling altogether, for the
between-decks was as dark as pitch. Paper enough was obtained
from the back of a letter—a duplicate of the forged letter from
Mr. Ross. This had been the original draught; but the handwriting
not being sufficiently well imitated, Augustus had written
another, thrusting the first, by good fortune, into his
coat-pocket, where it was now most opportunely discovered. Ink
alone was thus wanting, and a substitute was immediately found
for this by means of a slight incision with the pen-knife on the
back of a finger just above the nail—a copious flow of blood
ensuing, as usual, from wounds in that vicinity. The note was now
written, as well as it could be in the dark and under the
circumstances. It briefly explained that a mutiny had taken
place; that Captain Barnard was set adrift; and that I might
expect immediate relief as far as provisions were concerned, but
must not venture upon making any disturbance. It concluded with
these words: “_I have scrawled this with blood—your life depends
upon lying close._”
This slip of paper being tied upon the dog, he was now put down
the hatchway, and Augustus made the best of his way back to the
forecastle, where he found no reason to believe that any of the
crew had been in his absence. To conceal the hole in the
partition, he drove his knife in just above it, and hung up a
pea-jacket which he found in the berth. His handcuffs were then
replaced, and also the rope around his ankles.
These arrangements were scarcely completed when Dirk Peters came
below, very drunk, but in excellent humour, and bringing with him
my friend’s allowance of provision for the day. This consisted of
a dozen large Irish potatoes roasted, and a pitcher of water. He
sat for some time on a chest by the berth, and talked freely
about the mate and the general concerns of the brig. His
demeanour was exceedingly capricious, and even grotesque. At one
time Augustus was much alarmed by odd conduct. At last, however,
he went on deck, muttering a promise to bring his prisoner a good
dinner on the morrow. During the day two of the crew (harpooners)
came down, accompanied by the cook, all three in nearly the last
stage of intoxication. Like Peters, they made no scruple of
talking unreservedly about their plans. It appeared that they
were much divided among themselves as to their ultimate course,
agreeing in no point, except the attack on the ship from the Cape
Verd Islands, with which they were in hourly expectation of
meeting. As far as could be ascertained, the mutiny had not been
brought about altogether for the sake of booty; a private pique
of the chief mate’s against Captain Barnard having been the main
instigation. There now seemed to be two principal factions among
the crew—one headed by the mate, the other by the cook. The
former party were for seizing the first suitable vessel which
should present itself, and equipping it at some of the West India
Islands for a piratical cruise. The latter division, however,
which was the stronger, and included Dirk Peters among its
partisans, were bent upon pursuing the course originally laid out
for the brig into the South Pacific; there either to take whale,
or act otherwise, as circumstances should suggest. The
representations of Peters, who had frequently visited these
regions, had great weight, apparently, with the mutineers,
wavering, as they were, between half-engendered notions of profit
and pleasure. He dwelt on the world of novelty and amusement to
be found among the innumerable islands of the Pacific, on the
perfect security and freedom from all restraint to be enjoyed,
but, more particularly, on the deliciousness of the climate, on
the abundant means of good living, and on the voluptuous beauty
of the women. As yet, nothing had been absolutely determined
upon; but the pictures of the hybrid line-manager were taking
strong hold upon the ardent imaginations of the seamen, and there
was every possibility that his intentions would be finally
carried into effect.
The three men went away in about an hour, and no one else entered
the forecastle all day. Augustus lay quiet until nearly night. He
then freed himself from the rope and irons, and prepared for his
attempt. A bottle was found in one of the berths, and this he
filled with water from the pitcher left by Peters, storing his
pockets at the same time with cold potatoes. To his great joy he
also came across a lantern, with a small piece of tallow candle
in it. This he could light at any moment, as he had in his
possession a box of phosphorus matches. When it was quite dark,
he got through the hole in the bulkhead, having taken the
precaution to arrange the bedclothes in the berth so as to convey
the idea of a person covered up. When through, he hung up the
pea-jacket on his knife, as before, to conceal the aperture—this
manoeuvre being easily effected, as he did not readjust the piece
of plank taken out until afterward. He was now on the main orlop
deck, and proceeded to make his way, as before, between the upper
deck and the oil-casks to the main hatchway. Having reached this,
he lit the piece of candle, and descended, groping with extreme
difficulty among the compact stowage of the hold. In a few
moments he became alarmed at the insufferable stench and the
closeness of the atmosphere. He could not think it possible that
I had survived my confinement for so long a period breathing so
oppressive an air. He called my name repeatedly, but I made him
no reply, and his apprehensions seemed thus to be confirmed. The
brig was rolling violently, and there was so much noise in
consequence, that it was useless to listen for any weak sound,
such as those of my breathing or snoring. He threw open the
lantern, and held it as high as possible, whenever an opportunity
occurred, in order that, by observing the light, I might, if
alive, be aware that succor was approaching. Still nothing was
heard from me, and the supposition of my death began to assume
the character of certainty. He determined, nevertheless, to force
a passage, if possible, to the box, and at least ascertain beyond
a doubt the truth of his surmises. He pushed on for some time in
a most pitiable state of anxiety, until, at length, he found the
pathway utterly blocked up, and that there was no possibility of
making any farther way by the course in which he had set out.
Overcome now by his feelings, he threw himself among the lumber
in despair, and wept like a child. It was at this period that he
heard the crash occasioned by the bottle which I had thrown down.
Fortunate, indeed, was it that the incident occurred—for, upon
this incident, trivial as it appears, the thread of my destiny
depended. Many years elapsed, however, before I was aware of this
fact. A natural shame and regret for his weakness and indecision
prevented Augustus from confiding to me at once what a more
intimate and unreserved communion afterward induced him to
reveal. Upon finding his further progress in the hold impeded by
obstacles which he could not overcome, he had resolved to abandon
his attempt at reaching me, and return at once to the forecastle.
Before condemning him entirely on this head, the harassing
circumstances which embarrassed him should be taken into
consideration. The night was fast wearing away, and his absence
from the forecastle might be discovered; and indeed would
necessarily be so, if he should fail to get back to the berth by
daybreak. His candle was expiring in the socket, and there would
be the greatest difficulty in retracing his way to the hatchway
in the dark. It must be allowed, too, that he had every good
reason to believe me dead; in which event no benefit could result
to me from his reaching the box, and a world of danger would be
encountered to no purpose by himself. He had repeatedly called,
and I had made him no answer. I had been now eleven days and
nights with no more water than that contained in the jug which he
had left with me—a supply which it was not at all probable I had
hoarded in the beginning of my confinement, as I had every cause
to expect a speedy release. The atmosphere of the hold, too, must
have appeared to him, coming from the comparatively open air of
the steerage, of a nature absolutely poisonous, and by far more
intolerable than it had seemed to me upon my first taking up my
quarters in the box—the hatchways at that time having been
constantly open for many months previous. Add to these
considerations that of the scene of bloodshed and terror so
lately witnessed by my friend; his confinement, privations, and
narrow escapes from death, together with the frail and equivocal
tenure by which he still existed—circumstances all so well
calculated to prostrate every energy of mind—and the reader will
be easily brought, as I have been, to regard his apparent falling
off in friendship and in faith with sentiments rather of sorrow
than of anger.
The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Augustus was
not sure that it proceeded from the hold. The doubt, however, was
sufficient inducement to persevere. He clambered up nearly to the
orlop deck by means of the stowage, and then, watching for a lull
in the pitchings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a
tone as he could command, regardless, for the moment, of being
overheard by the crew. It will be remembered that on this
occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely overcome by
violent agitation as to be incapable of reply. Confident, now,
that his worst apprehensions were well founded, he descended,
with a view of getting back to the forecastle without loss of
time. In his haste some small boxes were thrown down, the noise
occasioned by which I heard, as will be recollected. He had made
considerable progress on his return when the fall of the knife
again caused him to hesitate. He retraced his steps immediately,
and, clambering up the stowage a second time, called out my name,
loudly as before, having watched for a lull. This time I found
voice to answer. Overjoyed at discovering me to be still alive,
he now resolved to brave every difficulty and danger in reaching
me. Having extricated himself as quickly as possible from the
labyrinth of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length
struck into an opening which promised better, and finally, after
a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state of utter
exhaustion.
CHAPTER 6
The leading particulars of this narration were all that Augustus
communicated to me while we remained near the box. It was not
until afterward that he entered fully into all the details. He
was apprehensive of being missed, and I was wild with impatience
to leave my detested place of confinement. We resolved to make
our way at once to the hole in the bulkhead, near which I was to
remain for the present, while he went through to reconnoiter. To
leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us could endure to
think of, yet, how to act otherwise was the question. He now
seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we could not even distinguish
the sound of his breathing upon applying our ears closely to the
box. I was convinced that he was dead, and determined to open the
door. We found him lying at full length, apparently in a deep
stupor, yet still alive. No time was to be lost, yet I could not
bring myself to abandon an animal who had now been twice
instrumental in saving my life, without some attempt at
preserving him. We therefore dragged him along with us as well as
we could, although with the greatest difficulty and fatigue;
Augustus, during part of the time, being forced to clamber over
the impediments in our way with the huge dog in his arms—a feat
to which the feebleness of my frame rendered me totally
inadequate. At length we succeeded in reaching the hole, when
Augustus got through, and Tiger was pushed in afterward. All was
found to be safe, and we did not fail to return sincere thanks to
God for our deliverance from the imminent danger we had escaped.
For the present, it was agreed that I should remain near the
opening, through which my companion could readily supply me with
a part of his daily provision, and where I could have the
advantages of breathing an atmosphere comparatively pure.
In explanation of some portions of this narrative, wherein I have
spoken of the stowage of the brig, and which may appear ambiguous
to some of my readers who may have seen a proper or regular
stowage, I must here state that the manner in which this most
important duty had been performed on board the Grampus was a most
shameful piece of neglect on the part of Captain Barnard, who was
by no means as careful or as experienced a seaman as the
hazardous nature of the service on which he was employed would
seem necessarily to demand. A proper stowage cannot be
accomplished in a careless manner, and many most disastrous
accidents, even within the limits of my own experience, have
arisen from neglect or ignorance in this particular. Coasting
vessels, in the frequent hurry and bustle attendant upon taking
in or discharging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from the
want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point is to
allow no possibility of the cargo or ballast shifting position
even in the most violent rollings of the vessel. With this end,
great attention must be paid, not only to the bulk taken in, but
to the nature of the bulk, and whether there be a full or only a
partial cargo. In most kinds of freight the stowage is
accomplished by means of a screw. Thus, in a load of tobacco or
flour, the whole is screwed so tightly into the hold of the
vessel that the barrels or hogsheads, upon discharging, are found
to be completely flattened, and take some time to regain their
original shape. This screwing, however, is resorted to
principally with a view of obtaining more room in the hold; for
in a full load of any such commodities as flour or tobacco, there
can be no danger of any shifting whatever, at least none from
which inconvenience can result. There have been instances,
indeed, where this method of screwing has resulted in the most
lamentable consequences, arising from a cause altogether distinct
from the danger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of
cotton, for example, tightly screwed while in certain conditions,
has been known, through the expansion of its bulk, to rend a
vessel asunder at sea. There can be no doubt either that the same
result would ensue in the case of tobacco, while undergoing its
usual course of fermentation, were it not for the interstices
consequent upon the rotundity of the hogsheads.
It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is chiefly to
be apprehended from shifting, and that precautions should be
always taken to guard against such misfortune. Only those who
have encountered a violent gale of wind, or rather who have
experienced the rolling of a vessel in a sudden calm after the
gale, can form an idea of the tremendous force of the plunges,
and of the consequent terrible impetus given to all loose
articles in the vessel. It is then that the necessity of a
cautious stowage, when there is a partial cargo, becomes obvious.
When lying-to (especially with a small head sail), a vessel which
is not properly modelled in the bows is frequently thrown upon
her beam-ends; this occurring even every fifteen or twenty
minutes upon an average, yet without any serious consequences
resulting, provided there be a proper stowage. If this, however,
has not been strictly attended to, in the first of these heavy
lurches the whole of the cargo tumbles over to the side of the
vessel which lies upon the water, and, being thus prevented from
regaining her equilibrium, as she would otherwise necessarily do,
she is certain to fill in a few seconds and go down. It is not
too much to say that at least one-half of the instances in which
vessels have foundered in heavy gales at sea may be attributed to
a shifting of cargo or of ballast.
When a partial cargo of any kind is taken on board, the whole,
after being first stowed as compactly as may be, should be
covered with a layer of stout shifting-boards, extending
completely across the vessel. Upon these boards strong temporary
stanchions should be erected, reaching to the timbers above, and
thus securing every thing in its place. In cargoes consisting of
grain, or any similar matter, additional precautions are
requisite. A hold filled entirely with grain upon leaving port
will be found not more than three fourths full upon reaching its
destination—this, too, although the freight, when measured bushel
by bushel by the consignee, will overrun by a vast deal (on
account of the swelling of the grain) the quantity consigned.
This result is occasioned by settling during the voyage, and is
the more perceptible in proportion to the roughness of the
weather experienced. If grain loosely thrown in a vessel, then,
is ever so well secured by shifting-boards and stanchions, it
will be liable to shift in a long passage so greatly as to bring
about the most distressing calamities. To prevent these, every
method should be employed before leaving port to settle the cargo
as much as possible; and for this there are many contrivances,
among which may be mentioned the driving of wedges into the
grain. Even after all this is done, and unusual pains taken to
secure the shifting-boards, no seaman who knows what he is about
will feel altogether secure in a gale of any violence with a
cargo of grain on board, and, least of all, with a partial cargo.
Yet there are hundreds of our coasting vessels, and, it is
likely, many more from the ports of Europe, which sail daily with
partial cargoes, even of the most dangerous species, and without
any precaution whatever. The wonder is that no more accidents
occur than do actually happen. A lamentable instance of this
heedlessness occurred to my knowledge in the case of Captain Joel
Rice of the schooner Firefly, which sailed from Richmond,
Virginia, to Madeira, with a cargo of corn, in the year 1825. The
captain had gone many voyages without serious accident, although
he was in the habit of paying no attention whatever to his
stowage, more than to secure it in the ordinary manner. He had
never before sailed with a cargo of grain, and on this occasion
had the corn thrown on board loosely, when it did not much more
than half fill the vessel. For the first portion of the voyage he
met with nothing more than light breezes; but when within a day’s
sail of Madeira there came on a strong gale from the N. N. E.
which forced him to lie-to. He brought the schooner to the wind
under a double-reefed foresail alone, when she rode as well as
any vessel could be expected to do, and shipped not a drop of
water. Toward night the gale somewhat abated, and she rolled with
more unsteadiness than before, but still did very well, until a
heavy lurch threw her upon her beam-ends to starboard. The corn
was then heard to shift bodily, the force of the movement
bursting open the main hatchway. The vessel went down like a
shot. This happened within hail of a small sloop from Madeira,
which picked up one of the crew (the only person saved), and
which rode out the gale in perfect security, as indeed a jolly
boat might have done under proper management.
The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily done, if
stowage that could be called which was little better than a
promiscuous huddling together of oil-casks {*1} and ship
furniture. I have already spoken of the condition of articles in
the hold. On the orlop deck there was space enough for my body
(as I have stated) between the oil-casks and the upper deck; a
space was left open around the main hatchway; and several other
large spaces were left in the stowage. Near the hole cut through
the bulkhead by Augustus there was room enough for an entire
cask, and in this space I found myself comfortably situated for
the present.
By the time my friend had got safely into the berth, and
readjusted his handcuffs and the rope, it was broad daylight. We
had made a narrow escape indeed; for scarcely had he arranged all
matters, when the mate came below, with Dirk Peters and the cook.
They talked for some time about the vessel from the Cape Verds,
and seemed to be excessively anxious for her appearance. At
length the cook came to the berth in which Augustus was lying,
and seated himself in it near the head. I could see and hear
every thing from my hiding-place, for the piece cut out had not
been put back, and I was in momentary expectation that the negro
would fall against the pea-jacket, which was hung up to conceal
the aperture, in which case all would have been discovered, and
our lives would, no doubt, have been instantly sacrificed. Our
good fortune prevailed, however; and although he frequently
touched it as the vessel rolled, he never pressed against it
sufficiently to bring about a discovery. The bottom of the jacket
had been carefully fastened to the bulkhead, so that the hole
might not be seen by its swinging to one side. All this time
Tiger was lying in the foot of the berth, and appeared to have
recovered in some measure his faculties, for I could see him
occasionally open his eyes and draw a long breath.
After a few minutes the mate and cook went above, leaving Dirk
Peters behind, who, as soon as they were gone, came and sat
himself down in the place just occupied by the mate. He began to
talk very sociably with Augustus, and we could now see that the
greater part of his apparent intoxication, while the two others
were with him, was a feint. He answered all my companion’s
questions with perfect freedom; told him that he had no doubt of
his father’s having been picked up, as there were no less than
five sail in sight just before sundown on the day he was cut
adrift; and used other language of a consolatory nature, which
occasioned me no less surprise than pleasure. Indeed, I began to
entertain hopes, that through the instrumentality of Peters we
might be finally enabled to regain possession of the brig, and
this idea I mentioned to Augustus as soon as I found an
opportunity. He thought the matter possible, but urged the
necessity of the greatest caution in making the attempt, as the
conduct of the hybrid appeared to be instigated by the most
arbitrary caprice alone; and, indeed, it was difficult to say if
he was at any moment of sound mind. Peters went upon deck in
about an hour, and did not return again until noon, when he
brought Augustus a plentiful supply of junk beef and pudding. Of
this, when we were left alone, I partook heartily, without
returning through the hole. No one else came down into the
forecastle during the day, and at night, I got into Augustus’
berth, where I slept soundly and sweetly until nearly daybreak,
when he awakened me upon hearing a stir upon deck, and I regained
my hiding-place as quickly as possible. When the day was fully
broke, we found that Tiger had recovered his strength almost
entirely, and gave no indications of hydrophobia, drinking a
little water that was offered him with great apparent eagerness.
During the day he regained all his former vigour and appetite.
His strange conduct had been brought on, no doubt, by the
deleterious quality of the air of the hold, and had no connexion
with canine madness. I could not sufficiently rejoice that I had
persisted in bringing him with me from the box. This day was the
thirtieth of June, and the thirteenth since the Grampus made sail
from Nantucket.
On the second of July the mate came below drunk as usual, and in
an excessively good-humor. He came to Augustus’s berth, and,
giving him a slap on the back, asked him if he thought he could
behave himself if he let him loose, and whether he would promise
not to be going into the cabin again. To this, of course, my
friend answered in the affirmative, when the ruffian set him at
liberty, after making him drink from a flask of rum which he drew
from his coat-pocket. Both now went on deck, and I did not see
Augustus for about three hours. He then came below with the good
news that he had obtained permission to go about the brig as he
pleased anywhere forward of the mainmast, and that he had been
ordered to sleep, as usual, in the forecastle. He brought me,
too, a good dinner, and a plentiful supply of water. The brig was
still cruising for the vessel from the Cape Verds, and a sail was
now in sight, which was thought to be the one in question. As the
events of the ensuing eight days were of little importance, and
had no direct bearing upon the main incidents of my narrative, I
will here throw them into the form of a journal, as I do not wish
to omit them altogether.
July 3. Augustus furnished me with three blankets, with which I
contrived a comfortable bed in my hiding-place. No one came
below, except my companion, during the day. Tiger took his
station in the berth just by the aperture, and slept heavily, as
if not yet entirely recovered from the effects of his sickness.
Toward night a flaw of wind struck the brig before sail could be
taken in, and very nearly capsized her. The puff died away
immediately, however, and no damage was done beyond the splitting
of the foretopsail. Dirk Peters treated Augustus all this day
with great kindness and entered into a long conversation with him
respecting the Pacific Ocean, and the islands he had visited in
that region. He asked him whether he would not like to go with
the mutineers on a kind of exploring and pleasure voyage in those
quarters, and said that the men were gradually coming over to the
mate’s views. To this Augustus thought it best to reply that he
would be glad to go on such an adventure, since nothing better
could be done, and that any thing was preferable to a piratical
life.
July 4th. The vessel in sight proved to be a small brig from
Liverpool, and was allowed to pass unmolested. Augustus spent
most of his time on deck, with a view of obtaining all the
information in his power respecting the intentions of the
mutineers. They had frequent and violent quarrels among
themselves, in one of which a harpooner, Jim Bonner, was thrown
overboard. The party of the mate was gaining ground. Jim Bonner
belonged to the cook’s gang, of which Peters was a partisan.
July 5th. About daybreak there came on a stiff breeze from the
west, which at noon freshened into a gale, so that the brig could
carry nothing more than her trysail and foresail. In taking in
the foretopsail, Simms, one of the common hands, and belonging
also to the cook’s gang, fell overboard, being very much in
liquor, and was drowned—no attempt being made to save him. The
whole number of persons on board was now thirteen, to wit: Dirk
Peters; Seymour, the black cook; Jones, Greely, Hartman Rogers
and William Allen, all of the cook’s party; the mate, whose name
I never learned; Absalom Hicks, Wilson, John Hunty Richard
Parker, of the mate’s party;—besides Augustus and myself.
July 6th. The gale lasted all this day, blowing in heavy squalls,
accompanied with rain. The brig took in a good deal of water
through her seams, and one of the pumps was kept continually
going, Augustus being forced to take his turn. Just at twilight a
large ship passed close by us, without having been discovered
until within hail. The ship was supposed to be the one for which
the mutineers were on the lookout. The mate hailed her, but the
reply was drowned in the roaring of the gale. At eleven, a sea
was shipped amidships, which tore away a great portion of the
larboard bulwarks, and did some other slight damage. Toward
morning the weather moderated, and at sunrise there was very
little wind.
July 7th. There was a heavy swell running all this day, during
which the brig, being light, rolled excessively, and many
articles broke loose in the hold, as I could hear distinctly from
my hiding-place. I suffered a great deal from sea-sickness.
Peters had a long conversation this day with Augustus, and told
him that two of his gang, Greely and Allen, had gone over to the
mate, and were resolved to turn pirates. He put several questions
to Augustus which he did not then exactly understand. During a
part of this evening the leak gained upon the vessel; and little
could be done to remedy it, as it was occasioned by the brig's
straining, and taking in the water through her seams. A sail was
thrummed, and got under the bows, which aided us in some measure,
so that we began to gain upon the leak.
July 8th. A light breeze sprang up at sunrise from the eastward,
when the mate headed the brig to the southwest, with the
intention of making some of the West India islands in pursuance
of his piratical designs. No opposition was made by Peters or the
cook—at least none in the hearing of Augustus. All idea of taking
the vessel from the Cape Verds was abandoned. The leak was now
easily kept under by one pump going every three quarters of an
hour. The sail was drawn from beneath the bows. Spoke two small
schooners during the day.
July 9th. Fine weather. All hands employed in repairing bulwarks.
Peters had again a long conversation with Augustus, and spoke
more plainly than he had done heretofore. He said nothing should
induce him to come into the mate’s views, and even hinted his
intention of taking the brig out of his hands. He asked my friend
if he could depend upon his aid in such case, to which Augustus
said, “Yes,” without hesitation. Peters then said he would sound
the others of his party upon the subject, and went away. During
the remainder of the day Augustus had no opportunity of speaking
with him privately.
CHAPTER 7
July 10. Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk. Weather hazy,
with a light baffling wind from the eastward. To-day Hartman
Rogers died, having been attacked on the eighth with spasms after
drinking a glass of grog. This man was of the cook’s party, and
one upon whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told Augustus
that he believed the mate had poisoned him, and that he expected,
if he did not be on the look-out, his own turn would come
shortly. There were now only himself, Jones, and the cook
belonging to his own gang—on the other side there were five. He
had spoken to Jones about taking the command from the mate; but
the project having been coolly received, he had been deterred
from pressing the matter any further, or from saying any thing to
the cook. It was well, as it happened, that he was so prudent,
for in the afternoon the cook expressed his determination of
siding with the mate, and went over formally to that party; while
Jones took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters, and hinted
that he would let the mate know of the plan in agitation. There
was now, evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters expressed his
determination of attempting to take the vessel at all hazards,
provided Augustus would lend him his aid. My friend at once
assured him of his willingness to enter into any plan for that
purpose, and, thinking the opportunity a favourable one, made
known the fact of my being on board. At this the hybrid was not
more astonished than delighted, as he had no reliance whatever
upon Jones, whom he already considered as belonging to the party
of the mate. They went below immediately, when Augustus called to
me by name, and Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It
was agreed that we should attempt to retake the vessel upon the
first good opportunity, leaving Jones altogether out of our
councils. In the event of success, we were to run the brig into
the first port that offered, and deliver her up. The desertion of
his party had frustrated Peters’ design of going into the
Pacific—an adventure which could not be accomplished without a
crew, and he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial,
on the score of insanity (which he solemnly avowed had actuated
him in lending his aid to the mutiny), or upon obtaining a
pardon, if found guilty, through the representations of Augustus
and myself. Our deliberations were interrupted for the present by
the cry of, “All hands take in sail,” and Peters and Augustus ran
up on deck.
As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before sail could
be properly taken in, a violent squall laid the brig on her
beam-ends. By keeping her away, however, she righted, having
shipped a good deal of water. Scarcely was everything secure,
when another squall took the vessel, and immediately afterward
another—no damage being done. There was every appearance of a
gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great fury,
from the northward and westward. All was made as snug as
possible, and we laid-to, as usual, under a close-reefed
foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased in violence, with
a remarkably heavy sea. Peters now came into the forecastle with
Augustus, and we resumed our deliberations.
We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable than the
present for carrying our designs into effect, as an attempt at
such a moment would never be anticipated. As the brig was snugly
laid-to, there would be no necessity of manoeuvring her until
good weather, when, if we succeeded in our attempt, we might
liberate one, or perhaps two of the men, to aid us in taking her
into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion in our
forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin there were
nine. All the arms on board, too, were in their possession, with
the exception of a pair of small pistols which Peters had
concealed about his person, and the large seaman’s knife which he
always wore in the waistband of his pantaloons. From certain
indications, too—such, for example, as there being no such thing
as an axe or a handspike lying in their customary places—we began
to fear that the mate had his suspicions, at least in regard to
Peters, and that he would let slip no opportunity of getting rid
of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we should determine to do
could not be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against
us to allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.
Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and enter into
conversation with the watch (Allen), when he would be able to
throw him into the sea without trouble, and without making any
disturbance, by seizing a good opportunity, that Augustus and
myself should then come up, and endeavour to provide ourselves
with some kind of weapons from the deck, and that we should then
make a rush together, and secure the companion-way before any
opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because I could
not believe that the mate (who was a cunning fellow in all
matters which did not affect his superstitious prejudices) would
suffer himself to be so easily entrapped. The very fact of there
being a watch on deck at all was sufficient proof that he was
upon the alert,—it not being usual except in vessels where
discipline is most rigidly enforced, to station a watch on deck
when a vessel is lying-to in a gale of wind. As I address myself
principally, if not altogether, to persons who have never been to
sea, it may be as well to state the exact condition of a vessel
under such circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance,
“laying-to,” is a measure resorted to for various purposes, and
effected in various manners. In moderate weather it is frequently
done with a view of merely bringing the vessel to a stand-still,
to wait for another vessel or any similar object. If the vessel
which lies-to is under full sail, the manoeuvre is usually
accomplished by throwing round some portion of her sails, so as
to let the wind take them aback, when she becomes stationary. But
we are now speaking of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done
when the wind is ahead, and too violent to admit of carrying sail
without danger of capsizing; and sometimes even when the wind is
fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel to be put before it.
If a vessel be suffered to scud before the wind in a very heavy
sea, much damage is usually done her by the shipping of water
over her stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes
forward. This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such
case, unless through necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky
condition she is often put before the wind even in the heaviest
seas; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure to be greatly opened
by her violent straining, and it is not so much the case when
scudding. Often, too, it becomes necessary to scud a vessel,
either when the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in
pieces the sail which is employed with a view of bringing her
head to the wind, or when, through the false modelling of the
frame or other causes, this main object cannot be effected.
Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different manners,
according to their peculiar construction. Some lie-to best under
a foresail, and this, I believe, is the sail most usually
employed. Large square-rigged vessels have sails for the express
purpose, called storm-staysails. But the jib is occasionally
employed by itself,—sometimes the jib and foresail, or a
double-reefed foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are
made use of. Foretopsails are very often found to answer the
purpose better than any other species of sail. The Grampus was
generally laid-to under a close-reefed foresail.
When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up to the
wind just so nearly as to fill the sail under which she lies when
hauled flat aft, that is, when brought diagonally across the
vessel. This being done, the bows point within a few degrees of
the direction from which the wind issues, and the windward bow of
course receives the shock of the waves. In this situation a good
vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of wind without shipping a
drop of water, and without any further attention being requisite
on the part of the crew. The helm is usually lashed down, but
this is altogether unnecessary (except on account of the noise it
makes when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel
when lying-to. Indeed, the helm had far better be left loose than
lashed very fast, for the rudder is apt to be torn off by heavy
seas if there be no room for the helm to play. As long as the
sail holds, a well modelled vessel will maintain her situation,
and ride every sea, as if instinct with life and reason. If the
violence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces
(a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish under
ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent danger. The
vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming broadside to the sea,
is completely at its mercy: the only resource in this case is to
put her quietly before the wind, letting her scud until some
other sail can be set. Some vessels will lie-to under no sail
whatever, but such are not to be trusted at sea.
But to return from this digression. It had never been customary
with the mate to have any watch on deck when lying-to in a gale
of wind, and the fact that he had now one, coupled with the
circumstance of the missing axes and handspikes, fully convinced
us that the crew were too well on the watch to be taken by
surprise in the manner Peters had suggested. Something, however,
was to be done, and that with as little delay as practicable, for
there could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once
entertained against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the
earliest occasion, and one would certainly be either found or
made upon the breaking of the gale.
Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive to remove,
under any pretext, the piece of chain-cable which lay over the
trap in the stateroom, we might possibly be able to come upon
them unawares by means of the hold; but a little reflection
convinced us that the vessel rolled and pitched too violently for
any attempt of that nature.
By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working upon the
superstitious terrors and guilty conscience of the mate. It will
be remembered that one of the crew, Hartman Rogers, had died
during the morning, having been attacked two days before with
spasms after drinking some spirits and water. Peters had
expressed to us his opinion that this man had been poisoned by
the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so he said, which
were incontrovertible, but which he could not be prevailed upon
to explain to us—this wayward refusal being only in keeping with
other points of his singular character. But whether or not he had
any better grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves,
we were easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined
to act accordingly.
Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent
convulsions; and the corpse presented in a few minutes after
death one of the most horrid and loathsome spectacles I ever
remember to have seen. The stomach was swollen immensely, like
that of a man who has been drowned and lain under water for many
weeks. The hands were in the same condition, while the face was
shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except where
relieved by two or three glaring red blotches like those
occasioned by the erysipelas: one of these blotches extended
diagonally across the face, completely covering up an eye as if
with a band of red velvet. In this disgusting condition the body
had been brought up from the cabin at noon to be thrown
overboard, when the mate getting a glimpse of it (for he now saw
it for the first time), and being either touched with remorse for
his crime or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered
the men to sew the body up in its hammock, and allow it the usual
rites of sea-burial. Having given these directions, he went
below, as if to avoid any further sight of his victim. While
preparations were making to obey his orders, the gale came on
with great fury, and the design was abandoned for the present.
The corpse, left to itself, was washed into the larboard
scuppers, where it still lay at the time of which I speak,
floundering about with the furious lurches of the brig.
Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in execution as
speedily as possible. Peters went upon deck, and, as he had
anticipated, was immediately accosted by Allen, who appeared to
be stationed more as a watch upon the forecastle than for any
other purpose. The fate of this villain, however, was speedily
and silently decided; for Peters, approaching him in a careless
manner, as if about to address him, seized him by the throat,
and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him over the
bulwarks. He then called to us, and we came up. Our first
precaution was to look about for something with which to arm
ourselves, and in doing this we had to proceed with great care,
for it was impossible to stand on deck an instant without holding
fast, and violent seas broke over the vessel at every plunge
forward. It was indispensable, too, that we should be quick in
our operations, for every minute we expected the mate to be up to
set the pumps going, as it was evident the brig must be taking in
water very fast. After searching about for some time, we could
find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-handles,
one of which Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured
these, we stripped off the shirt of the corpse and dropped the
body overboard. Peters and myself then went below, leaving
Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took his station just where
Allen had been placed, and with his back to the cabin
companionway, so that, if any of the mate's gang should come up,
he might suppose it was the watch.
As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself so as to
represent the corpse of Rogers. The shirt which we had taken from
the body aided us very much, for it was of singular form and
character, and easily recognizable—a kind of smock, which the
deceased wore over his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett,
with large white stripes running across. Having put this on, I
proceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in imitation of
the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse. This was soon
effected by means of stuffing with some bedclothes. I then gave
the same appearance to my hands by drawing on a pair of white
woollen mittens, and filling them in with any kind of rags that
offered themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing
it well over with white chalk, and afterward blotching it with
blood, which he took from a cut in his finger. The streak across
the eye was not forgotten and presented a most shocking
appearance.
CHAPTER 8
As I viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass which hung up
in the cabin, and by the dim light of a kind of battle-lantern, I
was so impressed with a sense of vague awe at my appearance, and
at the recollection of the terrific reality which I was thus
representing, that I was seized with a violent tremour, and could
scarcely summon resolution to go on with my part. It was
necessary, however, to act with decision, and Peters and myself
went upon deck.
We there found everything safe, and, keeping close to the
bulwarks, the three of us crept to the cabin companion-way. It
was only partially closed, precautions having been taken to
prevent its being suddenly pushed to from without, by means of
placing billets of wood on the upper step so as to interfere with
the shutting. We found no difficulty in getting a full view of
the interior of the cabin through the cracks where the hinges
were placed. It now proved to have been very fortunate for us
that we had not attempted to take them by surprise, for they were
evidently on the alert. Only one was asleep, and he lying just at
the foot of the companion-ladder, with a musket by his side. The
rest were seated on several mattresses, which had been taken from
the berths and thrown on the floor. They were engaged in earnest
conversation; and although they had been carousing, as appeared
from two empty jugs, with some tin tumblers which lay about, they
were not as much intoxicated as usual. All had knives, one or two
of them pistols, and a great many muskets were lying in a berth
close at hand.
We listened to their conversation for some time before we could
make up our minds how to act, having as yet resolved on nothing
determinate, except that we would attempt to paralyze their
exertions, when we should attack them, by means of the apparition
of Rogers. They were discussing their piratical plans, in which
all we could hear distinctly was, that they would unite with the
crew of a schooner _Hornet_, and, if possible, get the schooner
herself into their possession preparatory to some attempt on a
large scale, the particulars of which could not be made out by
either of us.
One of the men spoke of Peters, when the mate replied to him in a
low voice which could not be distinguished, and afterward added
more loudly, that “he could not understand his being so much
forward with the captain’s brat in the forecastle, and he thought
the sooner both of them were overboard the better.” To this no
answer was made, but we could easily perceive that the hint was
well received by the whole party, and more particularly by Jones.
At this period I was excessively agitated, the more so as I could
see that neither Augustus nor Peters could determine how to act.
I made up my mind, however, to sell my life as dearly as
possible, and not to suffer myself to be overcome by any feelings
of trepidation.
The tremendous noise made by the roaring of the wind in the
rigging, and the washing of the sea over the deck, prevented us
from hearing what was said, except during momentary lulls. In one
of these, we all distinctly heard the mate tell one of the men to
“go forward, have an eye upon them, for he wanted no such secret
doings on board the brig.” It was well for us that the pitching
of the vessel at this moment was so violent as to prevent this
order from being carried into instant execution. The cook got up
from his mattress to go for us, when a tremendous lurch, which I
thought would carry away the masts, threw him headlong against
one of the larboard stateroom doors, bursting it open, and
creating a good deal of other confusion. Luckily, neither of our
party was thrown from his position, and we had time to make a
precipitate retreat to the forecastle, and arrange a hurried plan
of action before the messenger made his appearance, or rather
before he put his head out of the companion-hatch, for he did not
come on deck. From this station he could not notice the absence
of Allen, and he accordingly bawled out, as if to him, repeating
the orders of the mate. Peters cried out, “Ay, ay,” in a
disguised voice, and the cook immediately went below, without
entertaining a suspicion that all was not right.
My two companions now proceeded boldly aft and down into the
cabin, Peters closing the door after him in the same manner he
had found it. The mate received them with feigned cordiality, and
told Augustus that, since he had behaved himself so well of late,
he might take up his quarters in the cabin and be one of them for
the future. He then poured him out a tumbler half full of rum,
and made him drink it. All this I saw and heard, for I followed
my friends to the cabin as soon as the door was shut, and took up
my old point of observation. I had brought with me the two
pump-handles, one of which I secured near the companion-way, to
be ready for use when required.
I now steadied myself as well as possible so as to have a good
view of all that was passing within, and endeavoured to nerve
myself to the task of descending among the mutineers when Peters
should make a signal to me, as agreed upon. Presently he
contrived to turn the conversation upon the bloody deeds of the
mutiny, and by degrees led the men to talk of the thousand
superstitions which are so universally current among seamen. I
could not make out all that was said, but I could plainly see the
effects of the conversation in the countenances of those present.
The mate was evidently much agitated, and presently, when some
one mentioned the terrific appearance of Rogers’ corpse, I
thought he was upon the point of swooning. Peters now asked him
if he did not think it would be better to have the body thrown
overboard at once as it was too horrible a sight to see it
floundering about in the scuppers. At this the villain absolutely
gasped for breath, and turned his head slowly round upon his
companions, as if imploring some one to go up and perform the
task. No one, however, stirred, and it was quite evident that the
whole party were wound up to the highest pitch of nervous
excitement. Peters now made me the signal. I immediately threw
open the door of the companion-way, and, descending, without
uttering a syllable, stood erect in the midst of the party.
The intense effect produced by this sudden apparition is not at
all to be wondered at when the various circumstances are taken
into consideration. Usually, in cases of a similar nature, there
is left in the mind of the spectator some glimmering of doubt as
to the reality of the vision before his eyes; a degree of hope,
however feeble, that he is the victim of chicanery, and that the
apparition is not actually a visitant from the old world of
shadows. It is not too much to say that such remnants of doubt
have been at the bottom of almost every such visitation, and that
the appalling horror which has sometimes been brought about, is
to be attributed, even in the cases most in point, and where most
suffering has been experienced, more to a kind of anticipative
horror, lest the apparition might possibly be real, than to an
unwavering belief in its reality. But, in the present instance,
it will be seen immediately, that in the minds of the mutineers
there was not even the shadow of a basis upon which to rest a
doubt that the apparition of Rogers was indeed a revivification
of his disgusting corpse, or at least its spiritual image. The
isolated situation of the brig, with its entire inaccessibility
on account of the gale, confined the apparently possible means of
deception within such narrow and definite limits, that they must
have thought themselves enabled to survey them all at a glance.
They had now been at sea twenty-four days, without holding more
than a speaking communication with any vessel whatever. The whole
of the crew, too—at least all whom they had the most remote
reason for suspecting to be on board—were assembled in the cabin,
with the exception of Allen, the watch; and his gigantic stature
(he was six feet six inches high) was too familiar in their eyes
to permit the notion that he was the apparition before them to
enter their minds even for an instant. Add to these
considerations the awe-inspiring nature of the tempest, and that
of the conversation brought about by Peters; the deep impression
which the loathsomeness of the actual corpse had made in the
morning upon the imaginations of the men; the excellence of the
imitation in my person, and the uncertain and wavering light in
which they beheld me, as the glare of the cabin lantern, swinging
violently to and fro, fell dubiously and fitfully upon my figure,
and there will be no reason to wonder that the deception had even
more than the entire effect which we had anticipated. The mate
sprang up from the mattress on which he was lying, and, without
uttering a syllable, fell back, stone dead, upon the cabin floor,
and was hurled to the leeward like a log by a heavy roll of the
brig. Of the remaining seven, there were but three who had at
first any degree of presence of mind. The four others sat for
some time rooted apparently to the floor, the most pitiable
objects of horror and utter despair my eyes ever encountered. The
only opposition we experienced at all was from the cook, John
Hunt, and Richard Parker; but they made but a feeble and
irresolute defence. The two former were shot instantly by Peters,
and I felled Parker with a blow on the head from the pump-handle
which I had brought with me. In the meantime, Augustus seized one
of the muskets lying on the floor and shot another mutineer
Wilson through the breast. There were now but three remaining;
but by this time they had become aroused from their lethargy, and
perhaps began to see that a deception had been practised upon
them, for they fought with great resolution and fury, and, but
for the immense muscular strength of Peters, might have
ultimately got the better of us. These three men were—Jones,
Greely, and Absolom Hicks. Jones had thrown Augustus to the
floor, stabbed him in several places along the right arm, and
would no doubt have soon dispatched him (as neither Peters nor
myself could immediately get rid of our own antagonists), had it
not been for the timely aid of a friend, upon whose assistance
we, surely, had never depended. This friend was no other than
Tiger. With a low growl, he bounded into the cabin, at a most
critical moment for Augustus, and throwing himself upon Jones,
pinned him to the floor in an instant. My friend, however, was
now too much injured to render us any aid whatever, and I was so
encumbered with my disguise that I could do but little. The dog
would not leave his hold upon the throat of Jones—Peters,
nevertheless, was far more than a match for the two men who
remained, and would, no doubt, have dispatched them sooner, had
it not been for the narrow space in which he had to act, and the
tremendous lurches of the vessel. Presently he was enabled to get
hold of a heavy stool, several of which lay about the floor. With
this he beat out the brains of Greely as he was in the act of
discharging a musket at me, and immediately afterward a roll of
the brig throwing him in contact with Hicks, he seized him by the
throat, and, by dint of sheer strength, strangled him
instantaneously. Thus, in far less time than I have taken to tell
it, we found ourselves masters of the brig.
The only person of our opponents who was left alive was Richard
Parker. This man, it will be remembered, I had knocked down with
a blow from the pump-handle at the commencement of the attack. He
now lay motionless by the door of the shattered stateroom; but,
upon Peters touching him with his foot, he spoke, and entreated
for mercy. His head was only slightly cut, and otherwise he had
received no injury, having been merely stunned by the blow. He
now got up, and, for the present, we secured his hands behind his
back. The dog was still growling over Jones; but, upon
examination, we found him completely dead, the blood issuing in a
stream from a deep wound in the throat, inflicted, no doubt, by
the sharp teeth of the animal.
It was now about one o’clock in the morning, and the wind was
still blowing tremendously. The brig evidently laboured much more
than usual, and it became absolutely necessary that something
should be done with a view of easing her in some measure. At
almost every roll to leeward she shipped a sea, several of which
came partially down into the cabin during our scuffle, the
hatchway having been left open by myself when I descended. The
entire range of bulwarks to larboard had been swept away, as well
as the caboose, together with the jollyboat from the counter. The
creaking and working of the mainmast, too, gave indication that
it was nearly sprung. To make room for more stowage in the
afterhold, the heel of this mast had been stepped between decks
(a very reprehensible practice, occasionally resorted to by
ignorant ship-builders), so that it was in imminent danger of
working from its step. But, to crown all our difficulties, we
plummed the well, and found no less than seven feet of water.
Leaving the bodies of the crew lying in the cabin, we got to work
immediately at the pumps—Parker, of course, being set at liberty
to assist us in the labour. Augustus’s arm was bound up as well
as we could effect it, and he did what he could, but that was not
much. However, we found that we could just manage to keep the
leak from gaining upon us by having one pump constantly going. As
there were only four of us, this was severe labour; but we
endeavoured to keep up our spirits, and looked anxiously for
daybreak, when we hoped to lighten the brig by cutting away the
mainmast.
In this manner we passed a night of terrible anxiety and fatigue,
and, when the day at length broke, the gale had neither abated in
the least, nor were there any signs of its abating. We now
dragged the bodies on deck and threw them overboard. Our next
care was to get rid of the mainmast. The necessary preparations
having been made, Peters cut away at the mast (having found axes
in the cabin), while the rest of us stood by the stays and
lanyards. As the brig gave a tremendous lee-lurch, the word was
given to cut away the weather-lanyards, which being done, the
whole mass of wood and rigging plunged into the sea, clear of the
brig, and without doing any material injury. We now found that
the vessel did not labour quite as much as before, but our
situation was still exceedingly precarious, and in spite of the
utmost exertions, we could not gain upon the leak without the aid
of both pumps. The little assistance which Augustus could render
us was not really of any importance. To add to our distress, a
heavy sea, striking the brig to the windward, threw her off
several points from the wind, and, before she could regain her
position, another broke completely over her, and hurled her full
upon her beam-ends. The ballast now shifted in a mass to leeward
(the stowage had been knocking about perfectly at random for some
time), and for a few moments we thought nothing could save us
from capsizing. Presently, however, we partially righted; but the
ballast still retaining its place to larboard, we lay so much
along that it was useless to think of working the pumps, which
indeed we could not have done much longer in any case, as our
hands were entirely raw with the excessive labour we had
undergone, and were bleeding in the most horrible manner.
Contrary to Parker’s advice, we now proceeded to cut away the
foremast, and at length accomplished it after much difficulty,
owing to the position in which we lay. In going overboard the
wreck took with it the bowsprit, and left us a complete hulk.
So far we had had reason to rejoice in the escape of our
longboat, which had received no damage from any of the huge seas
which had come on board. But we had not long to congratulate
ourselves; for the foremast having gone, and, of course, the
foresail with it, by which the brig had been steadied, every sea
now made a complete breach over us, and in five minutes our deck
was swept from stem to stern, the longboat and starboard bulwarks
torn off, and even the windlass shattered into fragments. It was,
indeed, hardly possible for us to be in a more pitiable
condition.
At noon there seemed to be some slight appearance of the gale’s
abating, but in this we were sadly disappointed, for it only
lulled for a few minutes to blow with redoubled fury. About four
in the afternoon it was utterly impossible to stand up against
the violence of the blast; and, as the night closed in upon us, I
had not a shadow of hope that the vessel would hold together
until morning.
By midnight we had settled very deep in the water, which was now
up to the orlop deck. The rudder went soon afterward, the sea
which tore it away lifting the after portion of the brig entirely
from the water, against which she thumped in her descent with
such a concussion as would be occasioned by going ashore. We had
all calculated that the rudder would hold its own to the last, as
it was unusually strong, being rigged as I have never seen one
rigged either before or since. Down its main timber there ran a
succession of stout iron hooks, and others in the same manner
down the stern-post. Through these hooks there extended a very
thick wrought-iron rod, the rudder being thus held to the
stern-post and swinging freely on the rod. The tremendous force
of the sea which tore it off may be estimated by the fact, that
the hooks in the stern-post, which ran entirely through it, being
clinched on the inside, were drawn every one of them completely
out of the solid wood.
We had scarcely time to draw breath after the violence of this
shock, when one of the most tremendous waves I had then ever
known broke right on board of us, sweeping the companion-way
clear off, bursting in the hatchways, and filling every inch of
the vessel with water.
CHAPTER 9
Luckily, just before night, all four of us had lashed ourselves
firmly to the fragments of the windlass, lying in this manner as
flat upon the deck as possible. This precaution alone saved us
from destruction. As it was, we were all more or less stunned by
the immense weight of water which tumbled upon us, and which did
not roll from above us until we were nearly exhausted. As soon as
I could recover breath, I called aloud to my companions. Augustus
alone replied, saying: “It is all over with us, and may God have
mercy upon our souls!” By-and-by both the others were enabled to
speak, when they exhorted us to take courage, as there was still
hope; it being impossible, from the nature of the cargo, that the
brig could go down, and there being every chance that the gale
would blow over by the morning. These words inspired me with new
life; for, strange as it may seem, although it was obvious that a
vessel with a cargo of empty oil-casks would not sink, I had been
hitherto so confused in mind as to have overlooked this
consideration altogether; and the danger which I had for some
time regarded as the most imminent was that of foundering. As
hope revived within me, I made use of every opportunity to
strengthen the lashings which held me to the remains of the
windlass, and in this occupation I soon discovered that my
companions were also busy. The night was as dark as it could
possibly be, and the horrible shrieking din and confusion which
surrounded us it is useless to attempt describing. Our deck lay
level with the sea, or rather we were encircled with a towering
ridge of foam, a portion of which swept over us every instant. It
is not too much to say that our heads were not fairly out of the
water more than one second in three. Although we lay close
together, no one of us could see the other, or, indeed, any
portion of the brig itself, upon which we were so tempestuously
hurled about. At intervals we called one to the other, thus
endeavouring to keep alive hope, and render consolation and
encouragement to such of us as stood most in need of it. The
feeble condition of Augustus made him an object of solicitude
with us all; and as, from the lacerated condition of his right
arm, it must have been impossible for him to secure his lashings
with any degree of firmness, we were in momentary expectation of
finding that he had gone overboard—yet to render him aid was a
thing altogether out of the question. Fortunately, his station
was more secure than that of any of the rest of us; for the upper
part of his body lying just beneath a portion of the shattered
windlass, the seas, as they tumbled in upon him, were greatly
broken in their violence. In any other situation than this (into
which he had been accidentally thrown after having lashed himself
in a very exposed spot) he must inevitably have perished before
morning. Owing to the brig’s lying so much along, we were all
less liable to be washed off than otherwise would have been the
case. The heel, as I have before stated, was to larboard, about
one half of the deck being constantly under water. The seas,
therefore, which struck us to starboard were much broken, by the
vessel’s side, only reaching us in fragments as we lay flat on
our faces; while those which came from larboard being what are
called back-water seas, and obtaining little hold upon us on
account of our posture, had not sufficient force to drag us from
our fastenings.
In this frightful situation we lay until the day broke so as to
show us more fully the horrors which surrounded us. The brig was
a mere log, rolling about at the mercy of every wave; the gale
was upon the increase, if any thing, blowing indeed a complete
hurricane, and there appeared to us no earthly prospect of
deliverance. For several hours we held on in silence, expecting
every moment that our lashings would either give way, that the
remains of the windlass would go by the board, or that some of
the huge seas, which roared in every direction around us and
above us, would drive the hulk so far beneath the water that we
should be drowned before it could regain the surface. By the
mercy of God, however, we were preserved from these imminent
dangers, and about midday were cheered by the light of the
blessed sun. Shortly afterward we could perceive a sensible
diminution in the force of the wind, when, now for the first time
since the latter part of the evening before, Augustus spoke,
asking Peters, who lay closest to him, if he thought there was
any possibility of our being saved. As no reply was at first made
to this question, we all concluded that the hybrid had been
drowned where he lay; but presently, to our great joy, he spoke,
although very feebly, saying that he was in great pain, being so
cut by the tightness of his lashings across the stomach, that he
must either find means of loosening them or perish, as it was
impossible that he could endure his misery much longer. This
occasioned us great distress, as it was altogether useless to
think of aiding him in any manner while the sea continued washing
over us as it did. We exhorted him to bear his sufferings with
fortitude, and promised to seize the first opportunity which
should offer itself to relieve him. He replied that it would soon
be too late; that it would be all over with him before we could
help him; and then, after moaning for some minutes, lay silent,
when we concluded that he had perished.
As the evening drew on, the sea had fallen so much that scarcely
more than one wave broke over the hulk from windward in the
course of five minutes, and the wind had abated a great deal,
although still blowing a severe gale. I had not heard any of my
companions speak for hours, and now called to Augustus. He
replied, although very feebly, so that I could not distinguish
what he said. I then spoke to Peters and to Parker, neither of
whom returned any answer.
Shortly after this period I fell into a state of partial
insensibility, during which the most pleasing images floated in
my imagination; such as green trees, waving meadows of ripe
grain, processions of dancing girls, troops of cavalry, and other
phantasies. I now remember that, in all which passed before my
mind’s eye, motion was a predominant idea. Thus, I never fancied
any stationary object, such as a house, a mountain, or any thing
of that kind; but windmills, ships, large birds, balloons, people
on horseback, carriages driving furiously, and similar moving
objects, presented themselves in endless succession. When I
recovered from this state, the sun was, as near as I could guess,
an hour high. I had the greatest difficulty in bringing to
recollection the various circumstances connected with my
situation, and for some time remained firmly convinced that I was
still in the hold of the brig, near the box, and that the body of
Parker was that of Tiger.
When I at length completely came to my senses, I found that the
wind blew no more than a moderate breeze, and that the sea was
comparatively calm; so much so that it only washed over the brig
amidships. My left arm had broken loose from its lashings, and
was much cut about the elbow; my right was entirely benumbed, and
the hand and wrist swollen prodigiously by the pressure of the
rope, which had worked from the shoulder downward. I was also in
great pain from another rope which went about my waist, and had
been drawn to an insufferable degree of tightness. Looking round
upon my companions, I saw that Peters still lived, although a
thick line was pulled so forcibly around his loins as to give him
the appearance of being cut nearly in two; as I stirred, he made
a feeble motion to me with his hand, pointing to the rope.
Augustus gave no indication of life whatever, and was bent nearly
double across a splinter of the windlass. Parker spoke to me when
he saw me moving, and asked me if I had not sufficient strength
to release him from his situation, saying that if I would summon
up what spirits I could, and contrive to untie him, we might yet
save our lives; but that otherwise we must all perish. I told him
to take courage, and I would endeavor to free him. Feeling in my
pantaloons’ pocket, I got hold of my penknife, and, after several
ineffectual attempts, at length succeeded in opening it. I then,
with my left hand, managed to free my right from its fastenings,
and afterward cut the other ropes which held me. Upon attempting,
however, to move from my position, I found that my legs failed me
altogether, and that I could not get up; neither could I move my
right arm in any direction. Upon mentioning this to Parker, he
advised me to lie quiet for a few minutes, holding on to the
windlass with my left hand, so as to allow time for the blood to
circulate. Doing this, the numbness presently began to die away
so that I could move first one of my legs, and then the other,
and, shortly afterward I regained the partial use of my right
arm. I now crawled with great caution toward Parker, without
getting on my legs, and soon cut loose all the lashings about
him, when, after a short delay, he also recovered the partial use
of his limbs. We now lost no time in getting loose the rope from
Peters. It had cut a deep gash through the waistband of his
woollen pantaloons, and through two shirts, and made its way into
his groin, from which the blood flowed out copiously as we
removed the cordage. No sooner had we removed it, however, than
he spoke, and seemed to experience instant relief—being able to
move with much greater ease than either Parker or myself—this was
no doubt owing to the discharge of blood.
We had little hopes that Augustus would recover, as he evinced no
signs of life; but, upon getting to him, we discovered that he
had merely swooned from the loss of blood, the bandages we had
placed around his wounded arm having been torn off by the water;
none of the ropes which held him to the windlass were drawn
sufficiently tight to occasion his death. Having relieved him
from the fastenings, and got him clear of the broken wood about
the windlass, we secured him in a dry place to windward, with his
head somewhat lower than his body, and all three of us busied
ourselves in chafing his limbs. In about half an hour he came to
himself, although it was not until the next morning that he gave
signs of recognizing any of us, or had sufficient strength to
speak. By the time we had thus got clear of our lashings it was
quite dark, and it began to cloud up, so that we were again in
the greatest agony lest it should come on to blow hard, in which
event nothing could have saved us from perishing, exhausted as we
were. By good fortune it continued very moderate during the
night, the sea subsiding every minute, which gave us great hopes
of ultimate preservation. A gentle breeze still blew from the N.
W., but the weather was not at all cold. Augustus was lashed
carefully to windward in such a manner as to prevent him from
slipping overboard with the rolls of the vessel, as he was still
too weak to hold on at all. For ourselves there was no such
necessity. We sat close together, supporting each other with the
aid of the broken ropes about the windlass, and devising methods
of escape from our frightful situation. We derived much comfort
from taking off our clothes and wringing the water from them.
When we put them on after this, they felt remarkably warm and
pleasant, and served to invigorate us in no little degree. We
helped Augustus off with his, and wrung them for him, when he
experienced the same comfort.
Our chief sufferings were now those of hunger and thirst, and
when we looked forward to the means of relief in this respect,
our hearts sunk within us, and we were induced to regret that we
had escaped the less dreadful perils of the sea. We endeavoured,
however, to console ourselves with the hope of being speedily
picked up by some vessel and encouraged each other to bear with
fortitude the evils that might happen.
The morning of the fourteenth at length dawned, and the weather
still continued clear and pleasant, with a steady but very light
breeze from the N. W. The sea was now quite smooth, and as, from
some cause which we could not determine, the brig did not lie so
much along as she had done before, the deck was comparatively
dry, and we could move about with freedom. We had now been better
than three entire days and nights without either food or drink,
and it became absolutely necessary that we should make an attempt
to get up something from below. As the brig was completely full
of water, we went to this work despondently, and with but little
expectation of being able to obtain anything. We made a kind of
drag by driving some nails which we broke out from the remains of
the companion-hatch into two pieces of wood. Tying these across
each other, and fastening them to the end of a rope, we threw
them into the cabin, and dragged them to and fro, in the faint
hope of being thus able to entangle some article which might be
of use to us for food, or which might at least render us
assistance in getting it. We spent the greater part of the
morning in this labour without effect, fishing up nothing more
than a few bedclothes, which were readily caught by the nails.
Indeed, our contrivance was so very clumsy that any greater
success was hardly to be anticipated.
We now tried the forecastle, but equally in vain, and were upon
the brink of despair, when Peters proposed that we should fasten
a rope to his body, and let him make an attempt to get up
something by diving into the cabin. This proposition we hailed
with all the delight which reviving hope could inspire. He
proceeded immediately to strip off his clothes with the exception
of his pantaloons; and a strong rope was then carefully fastened
around his middle, being brought up over his shoulders in such a
manner that there was no possibility of its slipping. The
undertaking was one of great difficulty and danger; for, as we
could hardly expect to find much, if any, provision in the cabin
itself, it was necessary that the diver, after letting himself
down, should make a turn to the right, and proceed under water a
distance of ten or twelve feet, in a narrow passage, to the
storeroom, and return, without drawing breath.
Everything being ready, Peters now descended in the cabin, going
down the companion-ladder until the water reached his chin. He
then plunged in, head first, turning to the right as he plunged,
and endeavouring to make his way to the storeroom. In this first
attempt, however, he was altogether unsuccessful. In less than
half a minute after his going down we felt the rope jerked
violently (the signal we had agreed upon when he desired to be
drawn up). We accordingly drew him up instantly, but so
incautiously as to bruise him badly against the ladder. He had
brought nothing with him, and had been unable to penetrate more
than a very little way into the passage, owing to the constant
exertions he found it necessary to make in order to keep himself
from floating up against the deck. Upon getting out he was very
much exhausted, and had to rest full fifteen minutes before he
could again venture to descend.
The second attempt met with even worse success; for he remained
so long under water without giving the signal, that, becoming
alarmed for his safety, we drew him out without it, and found
that he was almost at the last gasp, having, as he said,
repeatedly jerked at the rope without our feeling it. This was
probably owing to a portion of it having become entangled in the
balustrade at the foot of the ladder. This balustrade was,
indeed, so much in the way, that we determined to remove it, if
possible, before proceeding with our design. As we had no means
of getting it away except by main force, we all descended into
the water as far as we could on the ladder, and giving a pull
against it with our united strength, succeeded in breaking it
down.
The third attempt was equally unsuccessful with the two first,
and it now became evident that nothing could be done in this
manner without the aid of some weight with which the diver might
steady himself, and keep to the floor of the cabin while making
his search. For a long time we looked about in vain for something
which might answer this purpose; but at length, to our great joy,
we discovered one of the weather-forechains so loose that we had
not the least difficulty in wrenching it off. Having fastened
this securely to one of his ankles, Peters now made his fourth
descent into the cabin, and this time succeeded in making his way
to the door of the steward’s room. To his inexpressible grief,
however, he found it locked, and was obliged to return without
effecting an entrance, as, with the greatest exertion, he could
remain under water not more, at the utmost extent, than a single
minute. Our affairs now looked gloomy indeed, and neither
Augustus nor myself could refrain from bursting into tears, as we
thought of the host of difficulties which encompassed us, and the
slight probability which existed of our finally making an escape.
But this weakness was not of long duration. Throwing ourselves on
our knees to God, we implored His aid in the many dangers which
beset us; and arose with renewed hope and vigor to think what
could yet be done by mortal means toward accomplishing our
deliverance.
CHAPTER 10
Shortly afterward an incident occurred which I am induced to look
upon as more intensely productive of emotion, as far more replete
with the extremes first of delight and then of horror, than even
any of the thousand chances which afterward befell me in nine
long years, crowded with events of the most startling and, in
many cases, of the most unconceived and unconceivable character.
We were lying on the deck near the companion-way, and debating
the possibility of yet making our way into the storeroom, when,
looking toward Augustus, who lay fronting myself, I perceived
that he had become all at once deadly pale, and that his lips
were quivering in the most singular and unaccountable manner.
Greatly alarmed, I spoke to him, but he made me no reply, and I
was beginning to think that he was suddenly taken ill, when I
took notice of his eyes, which were glaring apparently at some
object behind me. I turned my head, and shall never forget the
ecstatic joy which thrilled through every particle of my frame,
when I perceived a large brig bearing down upon us, and not more
than a couple of miles off. I sprung to my feet as if a musket
bullet had suddenly struck me to the heart; and, stretching out
my arms in the direction of the vessel, stood in this manner,
motionless, and unable to articulate a syllable. Peters and
Parker were equally affected, although in different ways. The
former danced about the deck like a madman, uttering the most
extravagant rhodomontades, intermingled with howls and
imprecations, while the latter burst into tears, and continued
for many minutes weeping like a child.
The vessel in sight was a large hermaphrodite brig, of a Dutch
build, and painted black, with a tawdry gilt figure-head. She had
evidently seen a good deal of rough weather, and, we supposed,
had suffered much in the gale which had proved so disastrous to
ourselves; for her foretopmast was gone, and some of her
starboard bulwarks. When we first saw her, she was, as I have
already said, about two miles off and to windward, bearing down
upon us. The breeze was very gentle, and what astonished us
chiefly was, that she had no other sails set than her foremast
and mainsail, with a flying jib—of course she came down but
slowly, and our impatience amounted nearly to phrensy. The
awkward manner in which she steered, too, was remarked by all of
us, even excited as we were. She yawed about so considerably,
that once or twice we thought it impossible she could see us, or
imagined that, having seen us, and discovered no person on board,
she was about to tack and make off in another direction. Upon
each of these occasions we screamed and shouted at the top of our
voices, when the stranger would appear to change for a moment her
intention, and again hold on toward us—this singular conduct
being repeated two or three times, so that at last we could think
of no other manner of accounting for it than by supposing the
helmsman to be in liquor.
No person was seen upon her decks until she arrived within about
a quarter of a mile of us. We then saw three seamen, whom by
their dress we took to be Hollanders. Two of these were lying on
some old sails near the forecastle, and the third, who appeared
to be looking at us with great
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