The "good lady" remembered having seen Kotzebue ten years before. She, therefore, received him graciously, but she could not speak of her husband without tears in her eyes, and her grief did not appear to be assumed. In order that the date of his death should be ever-present to her mind she had had the inscription 6th May, 1819, branded on her arm.
A zealous Christian, like most of the population, the queen took Kotzebue to the church, a vast but simple building, not nearly so crowded as that at Otaheite. Nomahanna seemed to be very intelligent, she knew how to read and was specially enthusiastic about writing, that art which connects us with the absent. Being anxious to give the commander a proof alike of her affection and of her acquirements she sent him a letter by hand which it had taken her several weeks to concoct.
The other ladies did not like to be outdone, and Kotzebue found himself overwhelmed with documents. The only means to check this epistolatory inundation was to weigh anchor, which the captain did without loss of time.
Before his departure he received queen Nomahanna on board. Her Majesty appeared in her robes of ceremony, consisting of a magnificent peach-coloured silk dress embroidered with black, evidently originally made for a European, and consequently too tight and too short for its wearer. People could, therefore, see not only the feet, beside which those of Charlemagne would have looked like a Chinaman's, and which were cased in huge men's boots, but also a pair of fat, brown, naked legs resembling the balustrades of a terrace. A collar of red and yellow feathers, a garland of natural flowers, serving as a gorget, and a hat of Leghorn straw, trimmed with artificial flowers, completed this fine but absurd costume.
Nomahanna went over the ship, asking questions about everything, and at last, worn out with seeing so many wonders, betook herself to the captain's cabin, where a good collation was spread for her. The queen flung herself upon a couch, but the fragile article of furniture was unable to sustain so much majesty, and gave way beneath the weight of a princess, whose embonpoint had doubtless had a good deal to do with her elevation to such high rank.
After this halt Kotzebue returned to New Archangel, where he remained until the 30th July, 1825. He then paid another visit to the Sandwich Islands a short time after Admiral Byron had brought back the remains of the king and queen. The archipelago was then at peace, its prosperity was continually on the increase, the influence of the missionaries was confirmed, and the education of the young monarch was in the hands of Missionary Bingham. The inhabitants were deeply touched by the honours accorded by the English to the remains of their sovereigns, and the day seemed to be not far distant when European customs would completely supersede those of the natives.
Some provisions having been embarked at Waihou, the explorer made for Radak Islands, identified the Pescadores, forming the southern extremity of that chain, discovered the Eschscholtz group, a short distance off, and touched at Guam on the 15th October. On the 23rd January, 1826, he left Manilla after a stay of some months, during which constant intercourse with the natives had enabled him to add greatly to our knowledge of the geography and natural history of the Philippine islands. A new Spanish governor had arrived with a large reinforcement of troops, and had so completely crushed all agitation that the colonists had quite given up their scheme of separating themselves from Spain.
On the 10th July, 1826, the Predpriatie returned to Cronstadt, after a voyage extending over three years, during which she had visited the north-west coast of America, the Aleutian Islands, Kamtchatka, and the Sea of Oktoksh; surveyed minutely a great part of the Radak Islands, and obtained fresh information on the changes through which the people of Oceania were passing. Thanks to the ardour of Chamisso and Professor Eschscholtz, many specimens of natural history had been collected, and the latter published a description of more than 2000 animals, as well as some curious details on the mode of formation of the Coral islands in the South Seas.
The English government had now resumed with eagerness the study of the tantalizing problem, the solution of which had been sought so long in vain. We allude to the finding of the north-west passage. When Parry by sea and Franklin by land were trying to reach Behring Strait, Captain Frederick William Beechey received instructions to penetrate as far north as possible by way of the same strait so as to meet the other explorers, who would doubtless arrive in a state of exhaustion from fatigue and privation.
The Blossom, Captain Beechey commander, set sail from Spithead on the 19th May, 1825, and after doubling Cape Horn on the 26th December, entered the Pacific Ocean. After a short stay off the coast of Chili, Beechey visited Easter Island, where the same incidents which had marked Kotzebue's visit were repeated. The same eager reception on the part of the natives, who swam to the Blossom or brought their paltry merchandise to it in canoes, and the same shower of stones and blows from clubs when the English landed, repulsed, as in the Russian explorer's time, with a rapid discharge of shot.
On the 4th December, Captain Beechey sighted an island completely overgrown with vegetation. This was the spot famous for the discovery on it of the descendants of the mutineers of the Bounty, who landed on it after the enactment of a tragedy, which at the end of last century had excited intense public interest in England.
In 1781 Lieutenant Bligh, one of the officers who had distinguished himself under Cook, was appointed to the command of the Bounty, and received orders to go to Otaheite, there to obtain specimens of the breadfruit-tree and other of its vegetable productions for transportation to the Antilles, then generally known amongst the English as the Western Indies. After doubling Cape Horn, Bligh cast anchor in the Bay of Matavai, where he shipped a cargo of breadfruit-trees, proceeding thence to Ramouka, one of the Tonga Isles, for more of the same valuable growth. Thus far no special incident marked the course of the voyage, which seemed likely to end happily. But the haughty character and stern, despotic manners of the commander had alienated from him the affections of nearly the whole of his crew. A plot was formed against him which was carried out before sunrise on the 28th April, off Tofona.
Surprised by the mutineers whilst still in bed, Bligh was bound and gagged before he could defend himself, and dragged on deck in his night-shirt, and after a mock trial, presided over by Lieutenant Christian Fletcher, he, with eighteen men who remained faithful to him, was lowered into a boat containing a few provisions, and abandoned in the open sea.
After enduring agonies of hunger and thirst, and escaping from terrible storms and from the teeth of the savage natives of Tofona, Bligh succeeded in reaching Timor Island, where he received an enthusiastic welcome.
"I now desired my people to come on shore," says Bligh, "which was as much as some of them could do, being scarce able to walk; they, however, were helped to the house, and found tea with bread and butter provided for their breakfast… Our bodies were nothing but skin and bones, our limbs were full of sores, and we were clothed in rags; in this condition, with the tears of joy and gratitude flowing down our cheeks, the people of Timor beheld us with a mixture of horror, surprise, and pity… Thus, through the assistance of Divine Providence, we surmounted the difficulties and distresses of a most perilous voyage."
Perilous, indeed, for it had lasted no less than forty-one days in latitudes but little known, in an open boat, with insufficient food, want and exposure causing infinite suffering. Yet in this voyage of more than 1500 leagues but one man was lost, a sailor who fell a victim at the beginning of the journey to the natives of Tofona.
The fate of the mutineers was strange, and more than one lesson may be learnt from it.
They made for Otaheite, where provisions were obtained, and those who had been least active in the mutiny were abandoned, and thence Christian set sail with eight sailors, who elected to remain with him, and some twenty-two natives, men and women from Otaheite and Toubonai. Nothing more was heard of them!
As for those who remained at Otaheite, they were taken prisoners in 1791 by Captain Edwards of the Pandora, sent out by the English Government in search of them and the other mutineers, with orders to bring them to England. Of the ten who were brought home by the Pandora, only three were condemned to death.
Twenty years passed by before the slightest light was thrown on the fate of Christian and those he took with him.
In 1808 an American trading-vessel touched at Pitcairn, there to complete her cargo of seal-skins. The captain imagined the island to be uninhabited, but to his very great surprise a canoe presently approached his ship manned by three young men of colour, who spoke English very well. Greatly astonished, the commander questioned them, and learnt that their father had served under Bligh.
The fate of the latter was now known to the whole world, and its discussion had lightened the tedious hours in the forecastles of vessels of every nationality, and the American captain, reminded by the singular incident related above of the disappearance of so many of the mutineers of the Bounty, landed on the island, where he met an Englishman named Smith, who had belonged to the crew of that vessel, and who made the following confession.
When he left Otaheite, Christian made direct for Pitcairn, attracted to it by its lonely situation, south of the Pomautou Islands, and out of the general track of vessels. After landing the provisions of the Bounty and taking away all the fittings which could be of any use, the mutineers burnt the vessel not only with a view to removing all trace of their whereabouts, but also to prevent the escape of any of their number.
From the first the sight of the extensive marshes led them to believe the island to be uninhabited, and they were soon convinced of the justice of this opinion. Huts were built and land was cleared; but the English charitably assigned to the natives, whom they had carried off or who had elected to join them, the position of slaves. Two years passed by without any serious dissensions arising, but at the end of that time the natives laid a plot against the whites, of which, however, the latter were informed by an Otaheitan woman, and the two leaders paid for their abortive attempt with their lives.
Two more years of peace and tranquillity ensued, and then another plot was laid, this time resulting in the massacre of Christian and five of his comrades. The murder, however, was avenged by the native women, who mourned for their English lovers and killed the surviving men of Otaheite.
A little later the discovery of a plant, from which a kind of brandy could be made, caused the death of one of the four Englishmen still remaining, another was murdered by his companions, a third died a natural death, and the last one, Smith, took the name of Adams and lived on at the head of a community, consisting of ten women and nineteen children, the eldest of whom were but seven or eight years old.
This man, who had reflected on his errors and repented of them, now led a new life, fulfilling the duties of father, priest, and sovereign, his combined firmness and justice acquiring for him an all-powerful influence over his motley subjects.
This strange teacher of morality, who in his youth had set all laws at defiance, and to whom no obligation was sacred, now preached pity, love, and sympathy, arranged regular marriages between the children of different parents, his little community thriving lustily under the mild yet firm control of one who had but lately turned from his own evil ways.
Such at the time of Beechey's arrival was the state of the colony at Pitcairn. The navigator, well received by the inhabitants, whose virtuous conduct recalled the golden age, remained amongst them eighteen days. The village consisted of clean, well-built huts, surrounded by pandanus and cocoa-palms; the fields were well cultivated, and under Adams' tuition the young people had made implements of agriculture of really extraordinary excellence. The faces of these half breeds were good-looking and pleasant in expression, and their figures were well-proportioned, showing unusual muscular development.
After leaving Pitcairn, Beechey visited Crescent, Gambier, Hood, Clermont, Tonnerre, Serles, Whitsunday, Queen-Charlotte, Tehaï, and the Lancer Islands, all in the Pomautou group, and an islet to which he gave the name of Byam-Martin.
Here the explorer met a native named Ton-Wari, who had been shipwrecked in a storm. Having left Anaa with 500 fellow-countrymen in three canoes to render homage to Pomaré III., who had just ascended the throne, Ton-Wari had been driven out of his course by westerly winds. These were succeeded by variable breezes, and provisions were soon so completely exhausted that the survivors had to feed on the bodies of those who were the first to succumb. Finally Ton-Wari arrived at Barrow Island in the centre of the Dangerous Archipelago, where he obtained a small stock of provisions, and after a long delay, his canoe having been stove in off Byam-Martin, once more put to sea.
Beechey yielded under considerable persuasion to Ton-Wari's entreaty to be received on board with his wife and children and taken to Otaheite. The next day, by one of those strange chances seldom occurring except in fiction, Beechey stopped at Heïon, where Ton-Wari met his brother, who had supposed him to be long since dead. After the first transports of delight and surprise the two natives sat down side by side, and holding each others hands related their several adventures.
Beechey left Heïon on the 10th February, sighted Melville and Croker Islands, and cast anchor on the 18th off Otaheite, where he had some difficulty in obtaining provisions. The natives now demanded good Chilian dollars and European clothing, both of which were altogether wanting on the Blossom.
After receiving a visit from the queen-mother, Beechey was invited to a soirée given in his honour in the palace at Papeïti. When the English arrived, however, they found everybody sound asleep, the hostess having forgotten all about her invitation, and gone to bed earlier than usual. She received her guests none the less cordially however, and organized a little dance in spite of the remonstrances of the missionaries; only the fête had to be conducted so to speak in silence, that the noise might not reach the ears of the police on duty on the beach. From this incident we can guess the amount of liberty the missionary Pritchard allowed to the most exalted personages of Otaheite. What must the discipline then have been for the common herd of the natives!
On the 3rd April the young king paid a visit to Beechey, who gave him, on behalf of the Admiralty, a fine fowling-piece. Very friendly was the intercourse which ensued, and the good influence the English missionaries had obtained was strengthened by the cordiality and tact of the ship's officers.
Leaving Otaheite on the 26th April, Beechey reached the Sandwich Islands, where he remained some ten days, and then set sail for Behring Strait and the Arctic Ocean. His instructions were to skirt along the North American coast as far as the state of the ice would permit. The Blossom made a halt in Kotzebue Bay, a desolate, forbidding, and inhospitable spot, where the English had several interviews with the natives without obtaining any information about Franklin and his people. At last Beechey sent forward one of the ship's boats, under command of Lieutenant Elson, to seek the intrepid explorer. Elson was, however, unable to pass Point Barrow (N. lat. 71° 23') and was compelled to return to the Blossom, which in her turn was driven back to the entrance of the strait by the ice on the 13th October, the weather being clear and the frost of extreme severity.
In order to turn to account the winter season, Beechey visited San Francisco and cast anchor yet again off Honolulu in the Sandwich Islands. Thanks to the liberal and enlightened policy of the government, this archipelago was now rapidly growing in prosperity. The number of houses had increased, the town was gradually acquiring a European appearance, the harbour was frequented by numerous English and American vessels, and a national navy numbering five brigs and eight schooners had sprung into being. Agriculture was in a flourishing condition; coffee, tea, spices, were cultivated in extensive plantations, and efforts were being made to utilize the luxuriant sugar-cane forests native to the archipelago.
After a stay in April at the mouth of the Canton River, the explorers surveyed the Liu-Kiu archipelago, a chain of islands connecting Japan with Formosa, and the Bonin-Sima group, districts in which no animals were seen but big green turtles.
This exploration over, the Blossom resumed her northerly course, but the atmospheric conditions were less favourable than before, and it was impossible this time to penetrate further than N. lat. 70° 40'. Beechey left provisions, clothes, and instructions on the coast in this neighbourhood in case Parry or Franklin should get as far. The explorer then cruised about until the 6th October, when he decided with the greatest regret to return to England. He touched at Monterey, San Francisco, San-Blas, and Valparaiso, doubled Cape Horn, cast anchor at Rio de Janeiro, and finally arrived off Spithead on the 21st October.
We must now give an account of the expedition of the Russian Captain Lütke, which was fruitful of most important results. The explorer's own relation of his adventures is written in a most amusing and spirited style, and from it we shall therefore quote largely.
The Seniavine and the Möller were two transport ships built in Russia, both of which were good sea-going boats. The latter, however, was a very slow sailer, which unfortunately kept the two vessels apart for the greater part of the voyage. Lütke commanded the Seniavine, and Stanioukowitch the Möller.
The two vessels set sail from Cronstadt on the 1st September, 1828, and touched at Copenhagen and Plymouth, where scientific instruments were purchased. Hardly had they left the Channel before they were separated. The Seniavine, whose movements we shall most particularly follow, touched at Teneriffe, where Lütke hoped to meet his consort.
From the 4th to the 8th November, Teneriffe had been devastated by a terrific storm such as had not been seen since the Conquest. Three vessels had perished in the very roadstead of Santa Cruz, and two others thrown upon the coast had gone to pieces. Torrents swollen by a tremendous downpour had destroyed gardens, walls, and buildings, laid waste plantations, all but demolished one fort, swept down a number of houses in the town, and rendered several streets impassable. Three or four hundred persons had met their deaths in this convulsion of nature, and the damage done was estimated at several millions of piastres.
In January the two vessels met again at Rio de Janeiro, and kept together as far as Cape Horn, where they encountered the usual storms and fogs, and were again separated. The Seniavine then made for Conception.
"On the 15th May," says Lütke, "we were not more than eight miles from the nearest coast, but a dense fog hid it from us. In the night this fog lifted, and at daybreak a scene of indescribable grandeur and magnificence met our eyes. The serrated chain of the Andes, with its pointed peaks, stood out against an azure blue sky lit up by the first rays of the morning sun. I will not add to the number of those who have exhausted themselves in vain efforts to transmit to others their own sensations at the first sight of such scenes. They are as indescribable as the majesty of the scene itself. The variety of the colours, the light, which as the sun rose gradually spread over the sky, and the clouds were alike of inimitable beauty. To our great regret this spectacle, like everything most sublime in nature, did not last long. As the atmosphere became flooded with light the huge masses of clouds seemed with one accord to plunge into the deep, and the sun, appearing above the horizon, removed every trace of them."
Lütke's opinion of Conception does not agree with that of some of his predecessors. He had not yet forgotten the exuberant richness of the vegetation of the Bay of Rio de Janeiro, so that he found this new coast poor. As far as he could judge, during a very short stay, the inhabitants were more affable and civilized than the people of the same class in many other countries.
When he reached Valparaiso, Lütke met the Möller setting sail for Kamtchatka. The crews bid each other good-bye, and thenceforth the two vessels took different directions.
The first excursion of the officers and naturalists of Lütke's party was to the celebrated "quebradas."
"These," says the explorer, "are ravines in the mountains, crowded so to speak with the little huts containing the greater part of the people of Valparaiso. The most densely populated of these 'quebradas' is that rising at the south-west corner of the town. The granite, which is there laid bare, serves as a strong foundation for the buildings, and protects them from the destructive effects of earthquakes. Communication between the town and the different houses is carried on by means of narrow paths without supports or steps, which are carried along the slopes of the rocks, and on which the children play and run about like chamois. The few houses here belong to foreigners. Little paths lead up to them, and some have steps, which the Chilians look upon as a superfluous and altogether useless luxury. A staircase of tiled or palm-branch roofs below and above an amphitheatre of gates and gardens present a curious spectacle. At first I kept up with the naturalists, but they presently brought me to a place where I could not advance or retire a step, which decided me to return with one of my officers, and to leave them there with a hearty wish that they might bring their heads back safely to our lodgings. As for myself I expected to lose mine a thousand times before I got down again."
On their return from an arduous excursion, a few leagues from Valparaiso, the marines were astonished at being arrested as they rode into the town, by a patrol, who in spite of their remonstrances compelled them to dismount.
"It was Holy Thursday," says Lütke, "and from that day to Holy Saturday no one is here permitted under pain of a severe penalty either to ride, sing, dance, play on any instrument, or wear a hat. All business, work, and amusement are strictly forbidden during that time. The hill in the centre of the town with the theatre upon it is converted for the time being into a Golgotha. In the centre of a railed-in space rises a crucifix with numerous tapers and flowers about it and female figures kneeling on either side representing the witnesses of the Passion of our Lord. Pious souls come here to obtain absolution from their sins by loud prayers. I saw none but female penitents, not a single man was there amongst them. Most of them were doubtless very certain of obtaining the divine favour, for they came up playing and laughing, only assuming a contrite air when close to the object of their devotion, before which they knelt for a few minutes, resuming their pranks and laughter again directly they turned away."
The intolerance and superstition met with by the visitors at every turn made the explorer reflect deeply. He regretted seeing so much force and so many resources which might have promoted the intellectual progress and material prosperity of the country wasted on perpetual revolutions.
To Lütke nothing less resembled a valley of Paradise than Valparaiso and its environs: rugged mountains, broken by deep quebradas, a sandy plain, in the centre of which rises the town, with the lofty heights of the Andes in the background, do not, strictly speaking, form an Eden.
The traces of the terrible earthquake of 1823 were not yet entirely effaced, and here and there large spaces covered with ruins were still to be seen.
On the 15th April, the Seniavine set sail for New Archangel, where she arrived on the 24th June, after a voyage unmarked by any special incident. The necessity for repairing the effects of the wear and tear of a voyage of ten months, and of disembarking the provisions for the company of which the Seniavine was the bearer, detained Captain Lütke in the Bay of Sitka for five weeks.
This part of the coast of North America presents a wild but picturesque appearance. Lofty mountains clothed to their very peaks with dense and gloomy forests form the background of the picture. At the entrance of the bay rises Mount Edgecumbe, an extinct volcano 2800 feet above the sea-level. On entering the bay the visitor finds himself in a labyrinth of islands, behind which rise the fortress, towers, and church of New Archangel, which consists of but one row of houses with gardens, a hospital, a timber-yard, and outside the palisades a large village of Kaloche Indians. At this time the population consisted of a mixture of Russians, Creoles, and Aleutians, numbering some 800 altogether, of whom three-eighths were in the service of the company. This population, however, fluctuates very much according to the season. In the summer almost every one is away at the chase, and no sooner does autumn bring the people before they are all off again fishing.
New Archangel does not offer too many attractions in the way of amusements. Truth to tell, it is one of the dullest places imaginable, inexpressibly gloomy, where autumn seems to reign all through the year except for three months, when snow falls continuously. All this, however, does not of course affect the passing visitor, and for the resident there is nothing to keep up his spirits but a good stock of philosophy or a stern determination not to die of hunger. There is a good deal of remunerative trade with California, the natives, and foreign vessels.
The chief furs obtained by Aleutians who hunt for the Company are those of the otter, the beaver, the fox, and the souslic. The natives also hunt the walrus, seal, and whale, not to speak of the herring, the cod, salmon, turbot, lote, perch, and tsouklis, a shell fish found in Queen Charlotte's Islands, used by the Company as a medium of exchange with the Americans.
As for these Americans they seem to be all of one race between the 46th and 60th degrees of N. lat., such at least is the conclusion to which we are led by the study of their manners, customs, and languages.
The Kaloches of Sitka claim a man of the name of Elkh as the founder of their race, favoured by the protection of the raven, first cause of all things.8 Strange to say, this bird also plays an important part amongst the Kadiaks, who are Esquimaux. According to Lütke, the Kaloches have a tradition of a deluge and some fables which recall those of the Greek mythology.
Their religion is nothing more than a kind of Chamanism or belief in the power of the Chamans or magicians to ward off diseases, &c. They do not recognize a supreme God, but they believe in evil spirits, and in sorcerers who foretell the future, heal the sick, and transmit their office from father to son.
They believe the soul to be immortal, and that the spirits of their chieftains do not mix with those of the common people. Slaves are slaves still after death; the far from consolatory nature of this creed is obvious. The government is patriarchal; the natives are divided into tribes, the members of which have the figures of animals as signs, after which they are also sometimes named. We meet for instance with the wolf, the raven, the bear, the eagle, &c.
The slaves of the Kaloches are prisoners taken in war, and very miserable is their lot. Their masters hold the power of life and death over them. In some ceremonies, that on the death of a chief, for instance, the slaves who are no longer of use are sacrificed, or else their liberty is given to them.9
Suspicious and crafty, cruel and vindictive, the Kaloches are neither better nor worse than the neighbouring tribes. Hardened to fatigue, brave but idle, they leave all the housework to their wives, of whom they have many, polygamy being an institution amongst them.
On leaving Sitka, Lütke made for Ounalashka. Ilioluk is the chief trading establishment on that island, but it only contains some twelve Russians and ten Aleutians of both sexes.
This island has a good many productions which tend to make life pass pleasantly. It is rich in good pastures, and cattle-breeding is largely carried on, but it is almost entirely wanting in timber, the inhabitants being obliged to pick up the débris flung up by the sea, which sometimes includes whole trunks of cypress, camphor-trees, and a kind of wood which smells like roses.
At the time of Lütke's visit the people of the Fox Islands had adopted to a great extent Russian manners and costumes. They were all Christians. The Aleutians are a hardy, kind-hearted, agile race, almost living on the sea.
Since 1826 several eruptions of lava have caused terrible devastation in these islands. In May, 1827, the Shishaldin volcano opened a new crater, and vomited forth flames.
Lütke's instructions obliged him to explore St. Matthew's Island, which Cook had called Gore Island. The hydrographical survey was successful beyond the highest expectations, but the Russians could do nothing towards learning anything of the natural history of the island, for they were not allowed to land at all.
In the meantime the winter with its usual storms and fogs was rapidly drawing on. It was of no use hoping to get to Behring Strait, and Lütke therefore made for Kamtchatka after touching at Behring Island. He remained three weeks at Petropaulovsky, which he employed in landing his cargo and preparing for his winter campaign.