But whatever may have been Barents’s general education, it is unquestionable that he was a man of considerable capacity and talent, and that as a seaman he was possessed of far more than ordinary acquirements. By Linschoten he is described as having great knowledge of the science of navigation, and as being a practical seaman of much experience and ability; his astronomical observations have stood the severest tests of modern science; while his feats of seamanship will bear comparison with those of the ablest and most daring of our modern navigators. Of his great determination, perseverance, and indomitable courage, some remarkable instances will be adduced; and that his personal character, and general conduct, were such as to secure to him the respect, confidence, and attachment of those who sailed with him, is clearly manifest from various expressions in Gerrit de Veer’s simple narrative, and from its tone throughout.

The name of this able navigator has been written in various ways. The Dutch usually have Barentsz., which has been adopted in the notes on Phillip’s text in the [[cvii]]present volume, it being the usual native contraction of the full name, Barentszoon. In the Amsterdam Latin and French versions of De Veer’s work, the name is translated “filius Bernardi,” and “fils de Bernard”. Purchas and other early English writers, have Barents or Barentson, and sometimes even Bernardson. The first of these forms—namely, Barents—is most conformable to the genius of our language (in which we have Williams and Williamson, Richards and Richardson, etc.), at the same time that it accords with that of the Dutch, in which language this form of name is not uncommon. Barentz and Barentzen, as it has not unfrequently been written, are incorrect.

On the 4th of June, 1594, the little fleet lying off Huysdunen, by the Texel, the commander of the Swan, Cornelis Nai, was named admiral or commodore, and an agreement made[103] that they should keep company as far as Kildin, on the coast of Lapland. On the following morning, being Sunday, the admiral set sail, commanding the others to follow; but as the Amsterdammers said they were not quite ready, they remained behind, though, as appears from their journal,[104] they too sailed in the course of the same day. On the 21st, the Mercury of Enkhuysen arrived at Kildin, on the 22nd, the Swan, and on the 23rd, Barents’ two vessels. On the 29th of the same month Barents left Kildin on his separate voyage to Novaya Zemlya, arranging with the others that, in case they should not meet beyond that country, but should have to return, they would wait for one another at Kildin till the end of September. On the 2nd of July the ships of Nai and Tetgales took their departure for Vaigats.

For want of taking a comprehensive view of this, and the subsequent voyages in which Barents was engaged, most writers on the subject have fallen into considerable [[cviii]]error. By some the two expeditions of Nai and Barents have been treated as totally distinct; while by others Barents has been regarded as the chief commander of the whole. Thus, Blaeu, in the first part of his Grand Atlas,[105] published at Amsterdam in 1667, speaks of this expedition in the following terms:—“Dans cette grande entreprise, la ville d’Amsterdam, aujourd’huy la plus puissante des sept Provinces unies, se porta des premières, et fournit deux vaisseaux, qui furent accompagnez d’un troisiesme de Zelande et d’un quatrième d’Enchuse, tous quatre excellemment equippez, et qui eurent pour principal gouverneur et pilote tres-expert Guillaume fils de Bernard.” It would be a mere loss of time to refer to what other writers have said on the subject.

The voyage of William Barents in the Mercury of Amsterdam, forms the subject of the “First Part” of the present volume. Without entering here into any needless repetition of the particulars of this voyage, it shall be merely remarked that on the 4th of July, Barents first came in sight of Novaya Zemlya in 73° 25′ N. lat., near a low projecting point, called by him Langenes, whence he proceeded northwards along the coast, till, on the 10th of the same month, he passed Cape Nassau.[106] Thus far he had met with no obstacle to his progress. But during the night of the 13th he fell in with immense quantities of ice, and here his difficulties began. After vainly endeavouring to make his way through the ice, he, on the 19th of the month, found himself again close to the land about Cape Nassau.[107] Nothing daunted, he once more struggled forwards, and at length, on the last day of July, reached the Islands of Orange. Here, “after he had taken all that paine, and finding that he could hardly get through to accomplish and ende his intended voyage, his men also beginning to bee weary and would saile no further, they all [[cix]]together agreed to returne back againe.”[108] On the following day, therefore, they commenced their homeward voyage, and on the 3rd of August they reached Cape Nassau.

From a perusal of the mere dry details of their various courses in this part of their voyage, which are nearly all that is recorded in their journal, no idea could be formed of the difficulties they had to contend with, or the amount of labour actually performed. It is only when their track is laid down on the map,—as it has been, most carefully and with all possible accuracy, by Mr. Augustus Petermann,—that their enormous exertions become apparent. The result is really astonishing. Their voyage from Cape Nassau to the Orange islands and back occupied them from the 10th of July till the 3rd of August, being twenty-five days. During this period, Barents put his ship about eighty-one times, and sailed 1,546 geographical miles, according to the distances noted in the journal; to which, however, must be added the courses sailed along the coast, and also those which in some instances have been omitted to be specified, so that it may be reasonably assumed that the entire distance gone over was not much (if anything) short of 1,700 miles. This is equal to the distance from the Thames to the northern extremity of Spitzbergen, or from Cape Nassau to Cape Yakan, not far from Bering’s Strait. And all this was performed in a vessel of one hundred tons’ burthen, accompanied by a fishing smack!

One remarkable fact must not be omitted to be mentioned. On laying down Barents’s track from the bearings and distances given in his journal, from the 10th to the 19th of July, being the interval between his passing Cape Nassau, and being driven back again to that point,—during which period he tacked about in numerous directions, and sailed more than six hundred miles,—Mr. Petermann found it to agree so accurately, that its termination [[cx]]fell precisely upon Cape Nassau, without any difference whatever. This extreme precision can hardly be regarded as anything but a singular coincidence. Nevertheless, when viewed in connexion with Barents’s other tracks, and with his observations generally, as tested by the recent explorations of Lütke and other modern navigators, it must still remain a striking proof of the wonderful ability and accuracy of that extraordinary man.

After passing Cape Nassau, Barents continued his course southwards without any remarkable incident, till on the 15th of August he reached the islands of “Matfloe and Dolgoy,”—Matvyeéa Ostrov and Dolgoi Ostrov of the Russians, meaning Matthew’s Island and Long Island,—where he fell in with Nai and Tetgales, who had just arrived there, on their return from the Sea of Kara through Yugorsky Shar (Pet’s Strait), to which, with pardonable national vanity, they had given the name of the Strait of Nassau. Their report was that they had sailed fifty or sixty Dutch miles (200 or 240 geographical miles) to the eastward of that strait, and in their opinion had reached about the longitude of the river Ob, and were not far from Cape Tabin (Taimur), the furthest point of Tartary, whence the coast trended to the south-east, and afterwards to the south, towards the kingdom of Cathay.[109]

After much rejoicing on both sides at their happy meeting, the whole fleet now sailed homewards in company, and on the 14th of September came to the Doggers Sand, whence Nai, in the Swan, proceeded to Middelburg, whilst the other vessels passed by the Texel to their several ports.

The reports made by Barents and Linschoten of the results of their respective voyages were very different in character. The former, though anything but an illiterate man, could make no pretensions to scholarship. The latter [[cxi]]was an accomplished scholar, as is plainly shown by his narrative of this first and of the second voyage (which will be more particularly noticed in the sequel), and by his other published works; and though the vessels which he accompanied had not in reality accomplished so much as those of Barents, yet he appears to have had no difficulty in convincing their employers and the higher authorities that they had been not far from the realisation of the object of their voyage.