SECTION X.
Course from Cape Noir to the Island of Juan Fernandez.
After the mortifying disappointment of falling in with the coast of Terra del Fuego, at Cape Noir, when we reckoned ourselves ten degrees to the westward of it, as formerly mentioned to have happened on the 14th of April, we stood away to the S.W. till the 22d of that month, when we were in upwards of 60° S. and, by our reckoning, 6° westwards of Cape Noir. 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 of the year; so that this interval, setting aside our disquietudes on various accounts, was by far the most eligible of any we had enjoyed since passing the Straits of Le Maire. This moderate weather continued, with little variation, till the evening of the 24th, when the wind began to blow fresh, and soon increased to a prodigious storm. About midnight, the weather being very thick, we lost sight of the other ships of the squadron, which had hitherto kept us company, notwithstanding the violence of the preceding storms. Neither was this our sole misfortune, for next morning, while endeavouring to hand the top-sails, the clew-lines and bunt-lines broke, and the sheets being half flown, every seam in the top-sails was soon split from top to bottom. The main top-sail shook so violently in the wind, that it carried away the top lanthorn, and even endangered the head of the mast. At length, however, some of the boldest of our men ventured upon the yard, and cut the sail away close to the reefs, with the utmost hazard of their lives. At the same time, the fore top-sail beat about the yard with so much fury, that it was soon blown to pieces. The main-sail also blew loose, which obliged us to lower down the yard to secure the sail; and the fore-yard also being lowered, we lay-to under a mizen. In this storm, besides the loss of our top-sails, we had much of our rigging broken, and lost a main studding-sail boom out of the chains.
The weather became more moderate on the 25th at noon, which enabled us to sway up our yards, and to repair our shattered rigging in the best manner we could; but still we had no sight of the rest of our squadron, neither did any of them rejoin us till after our arrival at Juan Fernandez; nor, as we afterwards learnt, did any two of them continue in company together. This total, and almost instantaneous separation was the more wonderful, as we had hitherto kept together for seven weeks, through all the reiterated tempests of this turbulent climate. It must be owned, indeed, that we had hence room to expect we might make our passage in a shorter time than if we had continued together, because we could now make the best of our way, without being retarded by the misfortunes of the other ships; but then we had the melancholy reflection, that we were thereby deprived of the assistance of others, and our safety depended solely on our single ship; so that, if a plank started, or any other important accident occurred, we must all irrecoverably perish. Or, should we happen to be driven on shore, we had the uncomfortable prospect of ending our days on some desolate coast, without any reasonable hope of ever getting off again; whereas, with another ship in company, all these calamities are much less formidable, as in every kind of danger there would always be some probability that one ship at least might escape, and be capable of preserving or relieving the crew of the other.
During the remainder of April, we had generally hard gales, though every day, since the 22d, edging to the northward. On the last day of the month, however, we flattered ourselves with the expectation of soon terminating our sufferings, as we then found ourselves in lat. 52° 13' S. which, being to the northward of the Straits of Magellan, we were now assured that we had completed our passage, and were arrived on the confines of the South Sea: And, as this ocean is denominated the Pacific, from the equability of the seasons said to prevail there, and the facility and security with which navigation is there carried on, we doubted not that we should be speedily cheered with the moderate gales, the smooth water, and the temperate air, for which that portion of the globe is so renowned. Under the influence of these pleasing circumstances, we hoped to experience some compensation for the complicated sufferings, which had so constantly beset us for the last eight weeks. Yet here we were again miserably disappointed; for, in the succeeding month of May, our sufferings rose even 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 diminution and weakening of our crew by deaths and sickness, and the even threatening prospect of our utter destruction. All this will be sufficiently evident, from the following circumstantial recital of our diversified misfortunes.
Soon after we had passed the Straits of Le Maire, the scurvy began to make its appearance among us, and our long continuance at sea, the fatigue we underwent, and the various disappointments we met with, had occasioned its spreading to such a degree, that there were but few on board, by the latter end of April, that were not afflicted with it in some degree; and in that month no less than forty-three died of it in the Centurion. Although we thought the distemper had then risen to an extraordinary height, and were willing to hope that its malignity might abate as we advanced to the northward, we yet found, on the contrary, that we lost near double that number in the month of May; and, as we did not get to land till the middle of June, the mortality went on increasing, and so prodigiously did the disease extend, that, after the loss of above 200 men, we could not muster at the last above six foremast-men in a watch that were capable of duty.
This disease, so frequent in long voyages, and so particularly destructive to us, is surely the most singular and unaccountable of any that affects the human body. Its symptoms are innumerable and inconstant, and its progress and effects singularly irregular, for scarcely have any two persons complaints exactly resembling each other; and where there have been, some conformity in the symptoms, the order of their appearance has been totally different. Though it frequently puts on the form of many other diseases, and is not therefore to be described by any exclusive and infallible criterions, yet there are some symptoms which are more general than the rest, and of more frequent and constant occurrence, and which therefore deserve a more particular enumeration. These common appearances are large discoloured spots dispersed over the whole surface of the body, swelled legs, putrid gums, and, above all, an extraordinary lassitude of the whole body, especially after any exercise, however inconsiderable and this lassitude at last degenerates into a proneness to swoon, and even to die, on the least exertion of strength, or even on the least motion. This disease is usually attended, also, by a strange dejection of spirits, 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 such usually killed those who were in the last stages of the disease, 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 hopes were no small preservatives from its fatal malignity.
But it is not easy to complete the long roll of the various concomitants of this disease; for it often produced putrid fevers, pleurisies, jaundice, and violent rheumatic pains, and sometimes occasioned obstinate costiveness, which was generally attended with a difficulty of breathing, and this was esteemed the most deadly of all the scorbutic symptoms. At other times the whole body, but more especially the legs, were subject to ulcers of the worst kind, attended by rotten bones, and such a luxuriance of fungous flesh as yielded to no remedy. The most extraordinary circumstance, and which would scarcely be credible upon any single evidence, was, that the scars of wounds that had been healed for many years, were forced open again by this virulent distemper. There was a remarkable instance of this in the case of one of the invalid soldiers on board the Centurion, who had been wounded above fifty years before, at the battle of the Boyne; and though he was cured soon after, and had continued well for a great many years, yet, on being attacked by the scurvy, his wounds broke out afresh in the progress of the disease, and appeared as if they had never been healed. What is even still more extraordinary, the callus of a broken bone, which had been completely formed for a long time, was dissolved in the course of this disease, and the fracture seemed as if it had never been consolidated. The effects, indeed, 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, as they eat and drank heartily, were even cheerful, talking with much seeming vigour with a loud strong voice; and yet, on being in the least moved, though only from one part of the ship to another, and that too in their hammocks, they would instantly expire. 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 decks; neither was it uncommon for such as were able to walk the deck, and even to perform some kind of duty, to drop down dead in an instant, on any attempt to act with their utmost effort; many of our people having perished in this manner in the course of our voyage.
We struggled under this terrible disease during the greatest part of the time of our beating round Cape Horn; and though it did not then rage with its utmost violence, yet we buried no less than forty-three men in the month of April, as formerly observed. We were still, however, in hopes of seeing a period to this cruel malady, and to all the other evils which had so constantly pursued us, when we should have secured our passage round the Cape: but we found, to our heavy misfortune, that the (so-called) Pacific Ocean was to us less hospitable even than the turbulent neighbourhood of Terra del Fuego and Cape Horn. On the 8th of May, being arrived of the island of Socoro, on the western coast of Patagonia, [in lat. 44° 50' S. long. 73° 45' W.] the first rendezvous appointed for the squadron, and where we hoped to have met with some of our consorts, we cruized for them in that station several days. We were here not only disappointed in our expectations of meeting our friends, which induced the gloomy apprehensions of their having all perished, but were also perpetually alarmed with the fear of being driven on this coast, which appeared too craggy and irregular to give us the least prospect, in such a case, that any of us could possibly escape immediate destruction. The land, indeed, had a most tremendous aspect. The most distant part, far within the country, being the mountains of the Andes, or Cordelieras, was extremely high, and covered with snow; while the coast seemed quite rocky and barren, and the edge of the water skirted with precipices. In some places, indeed, we observed several deep bays running; into the land; but their entrances were generally blocked up by numbers of small islands; and though it was not improbable but there might be convenient shelter in some of the bays, and proper channels leading to them, yet, as we were utterly ignorant of the coast, had we been driven ashore by the westerly winds, which blew almost incessantly we could not well have avoided the loss both of the ship and of our lives.
This continued peril which lasted above a fortnight, was greatly aggraved by the difficulties we found in working the ship; as the scurvy, by this time, had destroyed so great a number of our hands, and had in some degree infected almost the whole crew. Neither did we, as we hoped, find the winds less violent as we advanced to the northward; for we had often prodigious squalls of wind, which split our sails, greatly damaged our rigging, and endangered our masts. Indeed, during much the greatest part of the time we were upon this coast, the wind blew so hard that, in any other situation where we had sufficient sea-room, we should certainly have lain-to; but, in the present exigency, we were necessitated to carry both our courses and top-sails, in order to keep clear of this lee-shore. In one of these squalls, which was attended by several violent claps of thunder, a sudden flash of fire darted along our decks, which dividing, exploded with a report like that of several pistols, and wounded many of our men and officers, marking them in different parts of their bodies. This flame was attended by a strong, sulphurous stench, and was doubtless of the same nature with the larger and more violent flashes of lightning which then filled the air.