Anson's Voyage Round the World - Part 2
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Part 2

We here found, what was constantly verified by all our observations in these high lat.i.tudes,* that fair weather was always of an exceeding short duration, and that when it was remarkably fine it was a certain presage of a succeeding storm; for the calm and sunshine of our afternoon ended in a most turbulent night, the wind freshening from the south-west as the night came on, and increasing its violence continually till nine in the morning the next day, when it blew so hard that we were obliged to bring to with the squadron, and to continue under a reefed mizzen till eleven at night. Towards midnight, the wind abating, we made sail again; and steering south, we discovered in the morning for the first time the land called Tierra del Fuego. This indeed afforded us but a very uncomfortable prospect, it appearing of a stupendous height, covered everywhere with snow. As we intended to pa.s.s through Straits le Maire next day, we lay to at night that we might not over shoot them, and took this opportunity to prepare ourselves for the tempestuous climate we were soon to be engaged in; with which view we employed ourselves good part of the night in bending an entire new suit of sails to the yards. At four the next morning, being the 7th of March, we made sail, and at eight saw the land, and soon after we began to open the Straits.

THE EVE OF DISASTER.

About ten o'clock, the Pearl and the Trial being ordered to keep ahead of the squadron, we entered them with fair weather and a brisk gale, and were hurried through by the rapidity of the tide in about two hours, though they are between seven and eight leagues in length. As these Straits are often considered as the boundary between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and as we presumed we had nothing now before us but an open sea till we arrived on those opulent coasts where all our hopes and wishes centred, we could not help flattering ourselves that the greatest difficulty of our pa.s.sage was now at an end, and that our most sanguine dreams were upon the point of being realised, and hence we indulged our imaginations in those romantic schemes which the fancied possession of the Chilean gold and Peruvian silver might be conceived to inspire. These joyous ideas were heightened by the brightness of the sky and the serenity of the weather, which was indeed most remarkably pleasing; for though the winter was now advancing apace, yet the morning of this day, in its brilliancy and mildness, gave place to none we had seen since our departure from England. Thus animated by these delusions, we traversed these memorable Straits, ignorant of the dreadful calamities that were then impending, and just ready to break upon us; ignorant that the time drew near when the squadron would be separated never to unite again, and that this day of our pa.s.sage was the last cheerful day that the greatest part of us would ever live to enjoy.

(*Note. The Equator is the zero (0 degrees) of lat.i.tude. The lat.i.tude becomes higher as one proceeds to the poles (90 degrees).)

CHAPTER 6.

HEAVY GALES--A LONG BATTLE WITH WIND AND SEA--THE CENTURION LOSES HER CONSORTS.

We had scarcely reached the southern extremity of the straits of le Maire, when our flattering hopes were instantly lost in the apprehensions of immediate destruction. For before the sternmost ships of the squadron were clear of the Straits, the serenity of the sky was suddenly changed, and gave us all the presages of an impending storm; and immediately the wind shifted to the southward, and blew in such violent squalls that we were obliged to hand our topsails and reef our mainsail. The tide, too, which had hitherto favoured us, now turned against us and drove us to the eastward with prodigious rapidity, so that we were in great anxiety for the Wager and the Anna pink, the two sternmost vessels, fearing they would be dashed to pieces against the sh.o.r.e of Staten Land. Nor were our apprehensions without foundation, for it was with the utmost difficulty they escaped. And now the whole squadron, instead of pursuing their intended course to the south-west, were driven to the eastward by the united force of the storm and of the currents; so that next day in the morning we found ourselves near seven leagues to the eastward of Staten Land. The violence of the current, which had set us with so much precipitation to the eastward, together with the force and constancy of the westerly winds, soon taught us to consider the doubling of Cape Horn as an enterprise that might prove too mighty for our efforts, though some amongst us had lately treated the difficulties which former voyagers were said to have met with in this undertaking as little better than chimerical, and had supposed them to arise rather from timidity and unskilfulness than from the real embarra.s.sments of the winds and seas.

But we were severely convinced that these censures were rash and ill-grounded, for the distresses with which we struggled during the three succeeding months will not easily be paralleled in the relation of any former naval expedition.

From the storm which came on before we had well got clear of Straits le Maire, we had a continual succession of such tempestuous weather as surprised the oldest and most experienced mariners on board, and obliged them to confess that what they had hitherto called storms were inconsiderable gales compared with the violence of these winds, which raised such short and at the same time such mountainous waves as greatly surpa.s.sed in danger all seas known in any other part of the globe. And it was not without great reason that this unusual appearance filled us with continual terror, for had any one of these waves broke fairly over us, it must in all probability have sent us to the bottom.

SEAS MOUNTAINS HIGH.

It was on the 7th of March, as has been already observed, that we pa.s.sed Straits le Maire, and were immediately afterwards driven to the eastward by a violent storm and the force of the current which set that way. For the four or five succeeding days we had hard gales of wind from the same quarter, with a most prodigious swell; so that though we stood, during all that time, towards the south-west, yet we had no reason to imagine we had made any way to the westward. In this interval we had frequent squalls of rain and snow, and shipped great quant.i.ties of water; after which for three or four days, though the seas ran mountains high, yet the weather was rather more moderate. But on the 18th we had again strong gales of wind with extreme cold. From hence to the 23rd the weather was more favourable, though often intermixed with rain and sleet, and some hard gales; but as the waves did not subside, the ship, by labouring in this lofty sea, was now grown so loose in her upper works that she let in the water at every seam; so that every part within board was constantly exposed to the sea-water, and scarcely any of the officers ever lay in dry beds. Indeed, it was very rare that two nights ever pa.s.sed without many of them being driven from their beds by the deluge of water that came upon them.

On the 23rd we had a most violent storm of wind, hail, and rain, with a very great sea; and though we handed the main-topsail before the height of the squall, yet we found the yard sprung; and soon after, the foot-rope of the mainsail breaking, the mainsail itself split instantly to rags, and in spite of our endeavours to save it, much the greater part of it was blown overboard. On this the Commodore made the signal for the squadron to bring to; and, the storm at length flattening to a calm, we had an opportunity of getting down our main-topsail yard to put the carpenters at work upon it, and of repairing our rigging; after which, having bent a new mainsail, we got under sail again with a moderate breeze. But in less than twenty-four hours we were attacked by another storm still more furious than the former; for it proved a perfect hurricane, and reduced us to the necessity of lying to under our bare poles.

As our ship kept the wind better any of the rest, we were obliged in the afternoon to wear ship, in order to join the squadron to the leeward, which otherwise we should have been in danger of losing in the night; and as we dared not venture any sail abroad, we were obliged to make use of an expedient which answered our purpose; this was putting the helm a-weather and manning the fore-shrouds. But though this method proved successful for the end intended, yet in the execution of it one of our ablest seaman was canted overboard; and notwithstanding the prodigious agitation of the waves, we perceived that he swam very strong, and it was with the utmost concern that we found ourselves incapable of a.s.sisting him; and we were the more grieved at his unhappy fate, since we lost sight of him struggling with the waves, and conceived from the manner in which he swam that he might continue sensible for a considerable time longer of the horror attending his irretrievable situation.

It was this incident that inspired Cowper's 'Castaway,' and called forth the touching verse given below--a verse so eloquent in its testimony to that gentler side of Anson's nature, which won for him the affection and regard not only of his own sailors, but even of his Spanish prisoners.

Of this poor sailor, and of the page in the ship's books that bore his name, Cowper wrote:

No poet wept him; but the page Of narrative sincere, That tells his name, his worth, his age, Is wet with Anson's tear.

And tears by bards or heroes shed Alike immortalise the dead.

From hence we had an interval of three or four days less tempestuous than usual, but accompanied with a thick fog, in which we were obliged to fire guns almost every half-hour to keep our squadron together.

On the first of April the weather returned again to its customary bias, the sky looked dark and gloomy, and the wind began to freshen and to blow in squalls; however, it was not yet so boisterous as to prevent our carrying our topsails close reefed; but its appearance was such as plainly prognosticated that a still severer tempest was at hand. And accordingly, on the 3rd of April, there came on a storm which both in its violence and continuation (for it lasted three days) exceeded all that we had hitherto encountered. In its first onset we received a furious shock from the sea which broke upon our larboard quarter, where it stove in the quarter gallery, and rushed into the ship like a deluge; our rigging, too, suffered extremely, so that to ease the stress upon the masts and shrouds we lowered both our main and fore yards, and furled all our sails, and in this posture we lay to for three days, when, the storm somewhat abating, we ventured to make sail under our courses only. But even this we could not do long, for the next day, which was the 7th, we had another hard gale of wind, with lightning and rain, which obliged us to lie to again all night.

And now, after all our solicitude, and the numerous ills of every kind to which we had been incessantly exposed for near forty days, we had great consolation in the flattering hopes we entertained, that our fatigues were drawing to a period, and that we should soon arrive in a more hospitable climate, where we should be amply repaid for all our past sufferings. For, towards the latter end of March, we were advanced by our reckoning near 10 degrees to the westward of the westernmost point of Tierra del Fuego, and this allowance being double what former navigators have thought necessary to be taken in order to compensate the drift of the eastern current, we esteemed ourselves to be well advanced within the limits of the southern ocean, and had therefore been ever since standing to the northward with as much expedition as the turbulence of the weather and our frequent disasters permitted. And, on the 13th of April, we were but a degree in lat.i.tude to the southward of the west entrance of the straits of Magellan, so that we fully expected, in a very few days, to have experienced the celebrated tranquillity of the Pacific Ocean.

AN UNEXPECTED DANGER.

But these were delusions which only served to render our disappointment more terrible; for the next morning, between one and two, as we were standing to the northward, and the weather, which had till then been hazy, accidentally cleared up, the pink made a signal for seeing land right ahead and it being but two miles distant, we were all under the most dreadful apprehensions of running on sh.o.r.e; which, had either the wind blown from its usual quarter with its wonted vigour, or had not the moon suddenly shone out, not a ship amongst us could possibly have avoided. But the wind, which some few hours before blew in squalls from the south-west, having fortunately shifted to west-north-west, we were enabled to stand to the southward, and to clear ourselves of this unexpected danger; so that by noon we had gained an offing of near twenty leagues.

By the lat.i.tude of this land we fell in with, it was agreed to be a part of Tierra del Fuego, near the southern outlet of the Straits of Magellan.

It was indeed most wonderful that the currents should have driven us to the eastward with such strength; for the whole squadron esteemed themselves upwards of ten degrees more westerly than this land. And now, instead of having our labours and anxieties relieved by approaching a warmer climate and more tranquil seas, we were to steer again to the southward, and again to combat those western blasts which had so often terrified us; and this, too, when we were weakened by our men falling sick and dying apace, and when our spirits, dejected by a long continuance at sea, and by our late disappointment, were much less capable of supporting us in the various difficulties which we could not but expect in this new undertaking. Add to all this, too, the discouragement we received by the diminution of the strength of the squadron; for three days before this we lost sight of the Severn and the Pearl in the morning; and though we spread our ships, and beat about for some time, yet we never saw them more; whence we had apprehensions that they too might have fallen in with this land in the night, and, being less favoured by the wind and the moon than we were, might have run on sh.o.r.e and have perished.

After the mortifying disappointment of falling in with the coast of Tierra del Fuego, when we esteemed ourselves 10 degrees to the westward of it, we stood away to the south-west till the 22nd of April, when we were in upwards of 60 degrees south, and by our account near 6 degrees to the westward of Cape Noir.* And in this run we had a series of as favourable weather as could well be expected in that part of the world, even in a better season; so that this interval, setting the inquietude of our thoughts aside, was by far the most eligible of any we enjoyed from Straits le Maire to the west coast of America. This moderate weather continued with little variation till the 24th; but on the 24th in the evening the wind began to blow fresh, and soon increased to a prodigious storm; and the weather being extremely thick, about midnight we lost sight of the other ships of the squadron, which, notwithstanding the violence of the preceding storms, had hitherto kept in company with us.

(*Note. Part of Tierra del Fuego near the southern outlet of the Straits of Magellan.)

On the 25th, about noon, the weather became more moderate, but still we had no sight of the rest of the squadron, nor indeed were we joined by any of them again till after our arrival at Juan Fernandez, nor did any two of them, as we have since learned, continue in company together.

The remaining part of this month of April we had generally hard gales, although we had been every day since the 22nd edging to the northward.

However, on the last day of the month we flattered ourselves with the hopes of soon terminating all our sufferings, for we that day found ourselves in the lat.i.tude of 52 degrees 13 minutes, which, being to the northward of the Straits of Magellan we were a.s.sured that we had completed our pa.s.sage, and had arrived in the confines of the Southern Ocean; and this ocean being nominated Pacific,* from the equability of the seasons which are said to prevail there, and the facility and security with which navigation is there carried on, we doubted not but we should be speedily cheered with the moderate gales, the smooth water, and the temperate air, for which that tract of the globe has been so renowned. And under the influence of these pleasing circ.u.mstances we hoped to experience some kind of compensation for the complicated miseries which had so constantly attended us for the last eight weeks.

But here we were again disappointed; for in the succeeding month of May our sufferings rose to a much higher pitch than they had ever yet done, whether we consider the violence of the storms, the shattering of our sails and rigging, or the diminishing and weakening of our crew by deaths and sickness, and the probable prospect of our total destruction.

(*Note. Peace-making. So named by Magellan from the fine weather he experienced there in 1520 and 1521. He was the first European to enter that ocean. The name was scarcely deserved.)

CHAPTER 7.

OUTBREAK OF SCURVY*--DANGER OF SHIPWRECK.

(*Note. 'Scurvy.' The nature of the disease and the proper method of treatment were not fully understood in Anson's day. It is caused by improper diet and particularly by the want of fresh vegetables. Lemon and lime juice are the best protectives against it and they were made an essential element in nautical diet in 1795. The disease which used to cause dreadful mortality on long voyages has since that time gradually disappeared and is now very rarely met with.)

THE PACIFIC.

Soon after our pa.s.sing Straits le Maire the scurvy began to make its appearance amongst us; and our long continuance at sea, the fatigue we underwent, and the various disappointments we met with, had occasion its spreading to such a degree, that at the latter end of April there were but few on board who were not in some degree afflicted with it; and in that month no less than forty-three died of it on board the Centurion.

But though we thought that the distemper had then risen to an extraordinary height, and were willing to hope that as we advanced to the northward its malignant would abate, yet we found, on the contrary, that in the month of May we lost nearly double that number. And as we did not get to land till the middle of June, the mortality went on increasing, and the disease extended itself so prodigiously that after the loss of above two hundred men we could not at last muster more than six foremast men in a watch capable of duty.

This disease, so frequently attending all long voyages, and so particularly destructive to us, is usually attended with a strange dejection of the spirits, and with shiverings, tremblings, and a disposition to be seized with the most dreadful terrors on the slightest accident. Indeed, it was most remarkable, in all our reiterated experience of this malady, that whatever discouraged our people, or at any time damped their hopes, never failed to add new vigour to the distemper, for it usually killed those who were in the last stage of it, and confined those to their hammocks who were before capable of some kind of duty; so that it seemed as if alacrity of mind and sanguine thoughts were no contemptible preservatives from its fatal malignity.

A most extraordinary circ.u.mstance, and what would be scarcely credible upon any single evidence, is, that the scars of wounds which had been for many years healed were forced open again by this virulent distemper. Of this there was a remarkable instance in one of the invalids on board the Centurion, who had been wounded above fifty years before at the battle of the Boyne;* for though he was cured soon after, and had continued well for a great number of years past, yet, on his being attacked by the scurvy, his wounds, in the progress of his disease, broke out afresh, and appeared as if they had never been healed. Nay, what is still more astonishing, the callous of a broken bone, which had been completely formed for a long time, was found to be hereby dissolved, and the fracture seemed as if it had never been consolidated. Indeed, the effects of this disease were in almost every instance wonderful; for many of our people, though confined to their hammocks, appeared to have no inconsiderable share of health, for they ate and drank heartily, were cheerful, and talked with much seeming vigour, and with a loud, strong tone of voice; and yet on their being the least moved, though it was only from one part of the ship to the other, and that in their hammocks, they have immediately expired; and others who have confided in their seeming strength, and have resolved to get out of their hammocks, have died before they could well reach the deck. And it was no uncommon thing for those who were able to walk the deck, and to do some kind of duty, to drop down dead in an instant, on any endeavours to act with their utmost vigour, many of our people having perished in this manner during the course of this voyage.

(*Note. William III defeated James II and his army of Irish and French troops July 12th, 1690.)

THE ISLAND OF SOCORO.

With this terrible disease we struggled the greatest part of the time of our beating round Cape Horn. We entertained hopes that when we should have once secured our pa.s.sage round the Cape, we should put a period to this and all the other evils which had so constantly pursued us. But it was our misfortune to find that the Pacific Ocean was to us less hospitable than the turbulent neighbourhood of Tierra del Fuego and Cape Horn; for being arrived, on the 8th of May, off the island of Socoro, which was the first rendezvous appointed for the squadron, and where we hoped to have met with some of our companions, we cruised for them in that station several days. And here we were not only disappointed in our hopes of being joined by our friends, and thereby induced to favour the gloomy suggestions of their having all perished, but we were likewise perpetually alarmed with the fears of being driven on sh.o.r.e upon this coast, which appeared too craggy and irregular to give us the least hopes that in such a case any of us could possibly escape immediate destruction. For the land had indeed a most tremendous aspect; the most distant part of it, and which appeared far within the country, being the mountains usually called the Andes or Cordilleras, was extremely high, and covered with snow; and the coast itself seemed quite rocky and barren, and the water's edge skirted with precipices. As we were utterly ignorant of the coast, had we been driven ash.o.r.e by the western winds, which blew almost constantly there, we did not expect to have avoided the loss of our ship and of our lives.

And this continued peril, which lasted for about a fortnight, was greatly aggravated by the difficulties we found in working the ship; as the scurvy had by this time destroyed so great a part of our hands, and had in some degree affected almost the whole crew. Nor did we, as we hoped, find the winds less violent as we advanced to the northward; for we had often prodigious squalls, which split our sails, greatly damaged our rigging, and endangered our masts.

CHAPTER 8.

JUAN FERNANDEZ--THE TRIAL REJOINS.

THE SEARCH FOR JUAN FERNANDEZ.

It were endless to recite minutely the various disasters, fatigues, and terrors which we encountered on this coast; all these went on increasing till the 22nd of May, at which time the fury of all the storms which we had hitherto encountered seemed to be combined, and to have conspired our destruction. In this hurricane almost all our sails were split, and great part of our standing rigging broken; and, about eight in the evening, a mountainous overgrown sea took us upon our starboard quarter, and gave us so prodigious a shock that several of our shrouds broke with the jerk, by which our masts were greatly endangered. Our ballast and stores, too, were so strangely shifted that the ship heeled afterwards two streaks to port. Indeed, it was a most tremendous blow, and we were thrown into the utmost consternation from the apprehension of instantly foundering. This was the last effort of that stormy climate, for in a day or two we found the weather more moderate than we had yet experienced since our pa.s.sing Straits le Maire. And now having cruised in vain for more than a fortnight in quest of the other ships of the squadron, it was resolved to take advantage of the present favourable season and the offing we had made from this terrible coast, and to make the best of our way for the island of Juan Fernandez.* For though our next rendezvous was appointed off the harbour of Baldivia, yet as we had hitherto seen none of our companions at this first rendezvous, it was not to be supposed that any of them would be found at the second; indeed, we had the greatest reason to suspect that all but ourselves had perished. Besides, we were by this time reduced to so low a condition that, instead of attempting to attack the places of the enemy, our utmost hopes could only suggest to us the possibility of saving the ship, and some part of the remaining enfeebled crew, by our speedy arrival at Juan Fernandez; for this was the only road in that part of the world where there was any probability of our recovering our sick or refitting our vessel, and consequently our getting thither was the only chance we had left to avoid perishing at sea.

(*Note. 'Juan Fernandez.' This island which is 13 miles long by 4 miles broad, now belongs to Chili. It was discovered in 1563 by Juan Fernandez.

As it was unoccupied it was a favourite resort of the buccaneers throughout the seventeenth century, as well as of English squadrons despatched like those of Dampier and Anson, to prey on Spanish commerce, and needing to refit and water after the long voyage round Cape Horn. The Spaniards at last occupied it in 1750, in self-defence. It was here that Alexander Selkirk was put ash.o.r.e in 1704.)

Our deplorable situation, then, allowing no room for deliberation, we stood for the island of Juan Fernandez. On the 28th of May, being nearly in the parallel upon which it is laid down, we had great expectations of seeing it; but not finding it in the position in which the charts had taught us to expect it, we began to fear that we had got too far to the westward; and therefore, though the Commodore himself was strongly persuaded that he saw it on the morning of the 28th, yet his officers believing it to be only a cloud, to which opinion the haziness of the weather gave some kind of countenance, it was on a consultation resolved to stand to the eastward in the parallel of the island; as it was certain that by this course we should either fall in with the island, if we were already to the westward of it, or should at least make the mainland of Chili, whence we might take a new departure, and a.s.sure ourselves, by running to the westward afterwards, of not missing the island a second time.

On the 30th of May we had a view of the continent of Chili, distant about twelve or thirteen leagues. It gave us great uneasiness to find that we had so needlessly altered our course when we were, in all probability, just upon the point of making the island; for the mortality amongst us was now increased to a most dreadful degree, and those who remained alive were utterly dispirited by this new disappointment and the prospect of their longer continuance at sea. Our water, too, began to grow scarce, so that a general dejection prevailed amongst us, which added much to the virulence of the disease, and destroyed numbers of our best men; and to all these calamities there was added this vexatious circ.u.mstance that when, after having got sight of the main, we tacked and stood to the westward in quest of the island, we were so much delayed by calms and contrary winds that it cost us nine days to regain the westing which, when we stood to the eastward, we ran down in two. In this desponding condition, with a crazy ship, a great scarcity of water, and a crew so universally diseased that there were not above ten foremast men in a watch capable of doing duty, and even some of these lame and unable to go aloft; under these disheartening circ.u.mstances, I say, we stood to the westward; and on the 9th of June, at daybreak, we at last discovered the long-wished-for island of Juan Fernandez.

It appeared to be a mountainous place, extremely ragged and irregular; yet as it was land and, the land we sought for, it was to us a most agreeable sight. For at this place only we could hope to put a period to those terrible calamities we had so long struggled with, which had already swept away above half our crew, and which, had we continued a few days longer at sea, would inevitably have completed our destruction. For we were by this time reduced to so helpless a condition, that out of two hundred and odd men who remained alive, we could not, taking all our watches together, muster hands enough to work the ship on an emergency, though we included the officers, their servants, and the boys.

The wind being northerly when we first made the island, we kept plying all that day and the next night, in order to get in with the land; and wearing the ship in the middle watch, we had a melancholy instance of the most incredible debility of our people; for the lieutenant could muster no more than two quarter-masters and six foremast men capable of working; so that without the a.s.sistance of the officers, servants, and boys, it might have proved impossible for us to have reached the island after we had got sight of it; and even with this a.s.sistance they were two hours in tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the sails. To so wretched a condition was a 60-gun ship reduced, which had pa.s.sed Straits le Maire but three months before, with between four hundred and five hundred men, almost all of them in health and vigour.