Journal of Jasper Danckaerts, 1679-1680 Part 23

_26th, Monday._ It was tolerably good weather, but it soon came up thick and rainy with a strong wind. We continued sailing east by south. Calculated the distance 56 miles. We kept a good lookout, for my reckoning upon the one chart was out and differed from the other 32 miles. The Lord protects us from disaster, and will guide us further, as we fully trust in Him.

_27th, Tuesday._ We had not had during the whole voyage such hard weather as during this night. The wind was southeast and south-southeast, with a thick mist and rain, which at last made us lie by, with only the mizzen sail, in a hard short sea which tossed and pitched us. We saw all day many land and sea birds which caused us to look out carefully for land. The distance made was 84 miles. At evening the wind was south-southwest, whereby we sailed or drifted east by south and south-southeast until day.

_28th, Wednesday._ It was better weather, and we again began to sail.

The wind was southwest. The lower sails were well reefed, but we shipped several heavy seas. The sea rolled the whole day. It was lucky for a sailor that the Lord preserved him from being washed overboard by an over-breaking sea; it was a narrow escape, but in floating off he caught a rope or something, to which he clung and was saved. We saw much sea-weed, and whole flocks of rock and land birds, and also a species of ducks and geese, besides another kind of bird. Fish lines were made ready, but we could catch nothing. The lat.i.tude was 59 51', which was a good height and encouraged us. We sailed still east-southeast on a maintained east course.

_29th, Thursday._ While we were at prayer this morning, "Land! Land!"

was called out; and although these prayers were so drowsy and miserable, especially for us, who were opposed to their doctrines, I had to restrain and mortify myself by not going up on deck, as several did, and almost all wished to do. It was the gunner who first discovered land, and took from the mast the little purse, in which he found 28 shillings and 6 pence sterling, that is, fifteen guilders and fourteen stivers, a good day's wages. The land we saw was the Orkney Islands, 28 to 32 miles south-southeast of us, which we sketched as well as we could. About two hours afterwards we saw very high land in front of us to the leeward, which we supposed at first was Fairhill,[445] an easy mistake to make, as we had made our lat.i.tude 59 48', but we soon saw other land in front on the starboard, and we now discovered that the land to the larboard was the rock Falo, and that on the starboard was Fairhill, which agreed very well with our lat.i.tude. I sat on the main yard to observe how the land rose up, and while there saw a vessel or a sail, which soon caused great consternation on board of our ship, and still more when I said there were two of them. They were afraid they were Turks; and so much did this idea blind them that eyes, understanding, and reason had no office to perform. These small vessels were certainly large ships and Turks. Everything was put out of the way; many did not know what they were doing from fear, which increased greatly, when they saw one of the vessels coming towards us before the wind. It was all hurly-burly, and every one was ordered immediately to quarters. I was very busy, our place being on the quarter-deck where there were four guns, which I pushed into the port holes. These were loaded and we were soon ready for fight. In the meanwhile, the vessel coming nearer, the minister, who should have encouraged the others, ran below into the powder room, all trembling and shaking. He inquired if that was far enough below water, and if he could be shot there. Another person from the East Indies was with him. The surgeon had all things ready for the battle, but unfortunately I looked out and saw it was a Dutch smack with a small topsail, flying the Prince's flag. But they silenced me; Turk it was, and Turk it should remain, and I must go back to my quarters. At last she came alongside, and they hailed her, but could not understand what was replied. I was then called upon to speak to them, and I went on the stern and saw that it was as I had said. I inquired where they were from, and what they were doing there. They answered, they were from Amsterdam; were cruising in search of two East Indiamen which the Chamber of Amsterdam[446] had missed, and they wanted to know whether we had seen anything of them. We informed them we had seen no ships since we were on the banks of Newfoundland, and we were from New England, bound to London. We asked if there were any danger from the Turks. None at all, they said, which gave courage to our captain and others, as well as the minister, who had emerged from the powder room, where he had hidden himself. We also inquired how affairs stood with England, Holland, and France. They answered, well, as far as they knew. Having obtained this information, I told our captain such good news was worth a salute, and he fired a six-pounder shotted. The Dutch captain asked for a little tobacco in exchange for pickled herrings; but many excuses were offered, and he got none. He said the other vessel was a Hollander from Iceland, and we had nothing to fear; that almost all the ships which we might see in the North Sea were ships from Holland; a remark which annoyed our captain and the others very much; and not being able to stand it, they tacked about ship and wore off, leaving the cruiser and pa.s.sing outside, or between Fairhill and the Orkneys.

[Footnote 445: Fair Isle is a lonely island midway between the Orkney and Shetland islands. Sailing between these groups, the voyagers saw first Orkney, then Foula Island (here Falo), then Fair Isle. The ma.n.u.script contains at this point profile sketches of the islands of Fairhill and Foula.]

[Footnote 446: The Chamber of Amsterdam was one of the local component boards of the Dutch East India Company.]

_30th, Friday._ We had lain over again at midnight, with a south-southwest wind. At daybreak it was entirely calm. I was called out of my berth to go to the captain, in order to discriminate the land, distinguishing Fairhill and the Orkneys. He exhibited great ignorance and fear, for we had seen the land well the day before, and the cruiser had fully informed us; he knew well enough how we had sailed during the night, and with what progress, and that we all agreed with the foregoing height of the pole. We took several crayon sketches of Fairhill and the other lands, the more because they are not shown from that side in the _Zeespiegel of Lichtende Colom_.[447]

We found the lat.i.tude to-day to be 59 40'. Many birds came round the ship, and some sparrow hawks and small blue hawks, which we caught with our hands. We stretched over again to the Orkneys, in order to be clear of Fairhill; the wind being southeast and southeast by east, we had foggy and misty weather.

[Footnote 447: "Sea Mirror or Shining Column," an atlas of marine charts published by Peter Goos of Amsterdam in various editions, in 1654 and later years.]

_31st, Sat.u.r.day._ We saw the Orkneys this morning, although we had shifted eight miles during the night. We stretched away from them again and discovered a strong current, which the nearer Scotland and the Orkneys it was the stronger it was. It runs mostly east and east-southeast, and west and west-northwest. The lat.i.tude obtained was 59 26'. At evening we found ourselves about 28 or 32 miles from Fairhill north-northeast. This is a beautiful round hill, as its name in English denotes. We held our course with several tacks, over and back, to reach the North Sea. We saw several ships but could not get near enough to speak to them.

SEPTEMBER _1st, Sunday._ The weather was misty; the wind as before, calm. Could not obtain the lat.i.tude, but we reckoned we had sailed about forty miles, east by south. We saw some herring-busses.

_2d, Monday._ The wind continued southeast and south-southeast. The weather was good but calm and misty. We calculated the lat.i.tude 58 40'. We kept beating from and to the sh.o.r.e.

_3d, Tuesday._ It was still drizzling and calm. We saw several vessels in which we would gladly have been, in order to see if there were no opportunity of going in them to Holland, whither they seemed to be sailing, or at least to obtain some refreshment of fish or something else; but the captain would not consent. At noon we turned towards the sh.o.r.e and sailed mostly south.

_4th, Wednesday._ The wind southeast and south-southeast, with dead water as if we were sailing in a river. We had been near the sh.o.r.e all night, on various courses, of one, two, and three points difference.

We took a good observation, namely, 58 8'; the distance sailed was sixty miles, the course held south-southwest. At noon the water was greener, and we therefore supposed we were in deeper water. We saw this morning the four _ockers_,[448] before mentioned behind us, but we were soon afterwards out of sight of them.

[Footnote 448: Dutch fishing-boats.]

_5th, Thursday._ Our course was east by north and east-northeast, now a little in, and then again out. The wind was mostly south-southwest.

We found the lat.i.tude 58 34', so much were we set north. We had not gone ahead far, as there was not much wind, and the sea rolled directly against us. We reckoned the distance to be at night forty miles. But it was entirely calm, and the wind subsided with mist and rain. We drifted thus all night. The deep lead was thrown at midnight, and eighty fathoms of water were found. We endeavored to catch some fish, but did not succeed. We caught several sparrow hawks and small blue hawks.

_6th, Friday._ We had made little progress. The wind was northwest.

There was a thick mist with drizzling rain. Our course until noon was east-southeast; the lat.i.tude was 59; the distance 104 miles. We spoke an _ocker_, and inquired where we were. He said he was lying on the reef to fish, about 136 miles, he supposed, from Newcastle in Scotland,[449] southwest of him, which agreed well with our calculation. Had 50 fathoms of water. This reef shoots out from the coast of Jutland and runs into the middle of the North Sea, northwardly around the Shetland Islands, and from thence almost to Rockol, but it lies nearer to the Scottish coast than to the coast of Norway, and a little more so than is represented on the chart. We caught many birds and also swallows.

[Footnote 449: England, rather. There is no such reef or shallow as is described below.]

_7th, Sat.u.r.day._ It had been very calm through the night; but the wind shifted to the south, and we therefore had to change our course continually; at last it was south-southeast, and we could not sail higher than west by north. We found the lat.i.tude 56 24', but could not judge well because the sun was obscured. The reckoning was 55 55'; the course was south by west; the distance 56 miles. We here came into a whole school of tunnies which afforded us great amus.e.m.e.nt. We also saw several ships ahead of us and heard much firing of guns.

_8th, Sunday._ Calm and rainy weather. We had made, this whole night and from noon yesterday, not more than 28 or 32 miles progress. The course was south-southeast sailing over against the wind, in order to come upon the Doggerbank.[450] Saw several vessels, one of which ran before us, over to Newcastle. Reckoned at noon to-day we were 40 miles from the Doggerbank.

[Footnote 450: The Dogger Bank is a great shoal in the North Sea, lying between northern England and Denmark.]

_9th, Monday._ In the morning watch, threw the deep lead in 25 fathoms, sandy bottom, green, white and red. About ten o'clock we had 20 fathoms with the same ground. The atmosphere was thick and hazy.

The lat.i.tude we supposed was 55 19'. We were now certainly on the Doggerbank. We caught many young _spier hayties_, which the English call _dogs_, and because large numbers of these fish always keep there, the bank, which is very large and almost makes the figure of a fishing boat, is called the Doggerbank. At four o'clock we had 18 fathoms, and in the evening 17. The course still south-southeast, and the wind northeast, breezy and calm, intermingled. In the night the deep lead was thrown several times, and we found 19, 18, 15 and 14 fathoms of water.

_10th, Tuesday._ The wind blew from almost all points; at ten o'clock it was northeast and east-northeast, with 12, 11, 10, 9-1/2 fathoms of water. The lat.i.tude was 54 44'. We saw several large ships and heard heavy firing of guns which made our captain and others very serious, for we heard 40 or 50 shots. Seeing a ship behind us, we let the sails run and waited for her. On her approaching us, we found she was a Dutch flute;[451] and when we spoke her, they said they were from Muscovy, bound for Amsterdam. We wished with our whole hearts we were on board of her with our goods, for we should then sooner have been home. There was a rolling sea, so that there was no prospect of being put aboard of her; besides, the captain would not have been willing. They could not tell us much news. We asked where they reckoned they were, and they said not far from where we knew, that they were on the Doggerbank. In the evening we found the water deeper than 20 fathoms, and afterwards 25, at midnight 30, and in the day watch 45, with a bottom of fine sand.

[Footnote 451: See p. 21, note 1.]

_11th, Wednesday._ In the forenoon, found the water more shallow, 25, 23 and 20 fathoms, and we therefore believed we had pa.s.sed from the Doggerbank to the Welle,[452] another bank so called. We obtained a good observation, and the lat.i.tude was 54 net; the ship's alt.i.tude 5'

being deducted, left 53 55', which agreed very well with our chart, with the depth, and our reckoning. The distance was put at 40 miles.

We saw many ships around us, but could speak none. It continued calm until evening, when we found 20 and afterwards 17 fathom water, over a coa.r.s.e red and white sandy bottom, mixed with small stones. The course was south-southeast.

[Footnote 452: The Well Bank lies south of the Dogger Bank, and off the mouth of the Humber.]

_12th, Thursday._ The lat.i.tude 53 45', that is, the height of our eyes above the water being deducted; the distance 24 miles; the course south-southeast, a little southerly. We reckoned we were at the middle of the Welle bank. We longed for a good wind, and we were only sixty miles from Yarmouth and 100 or 104 from Harwich. We fished a little, only caught two or three small codfish, and hauled up with the hook a great quant.i.ty of stone and sea weed. In the first watch the wind was north and northeast, with slack water in 15, 14, 17, 19 and 20 fathoms. The captain therefore sailed southeast and southeast by south, through fear of the Lemenoirs[453] and other Yarmouth shoals.

[Footnote 453: The Leman Bank lies some forty miles northeast of Yarmouth, and south of the Well Bank; the White Water, next mentioned, lies east of the latter, toward the Frisian coast.]

_13th, Friday._ It blew a stiff topsail breeze. We had 17 and 18 fathoms of water, which looked quite white, and made me think we were near the White Water, another bank so named on which there is 17 and 16 fathoms. We sailed south-southwest. We waited for a herring-buss coming towards us, and spoke to her. She was from Rotterdam, had been at sea a long time, and had seen no land. They told us they were between Wells and the White Water, nearer the latter, and that South Foreland was south-southwest of us. They could tell us nothing more.

We wished we were in the buss, for then we might have been in the Maes that evening, as she had a good wind. The lat.i.tude was 52 50'. We sailed southwest in 23 fathoms of water, with a bottom of fine sand a little reddish and mixed with black. In sailing towards the sh.o.r.e we had 18 fathoms; when about three, or half past three o'clock in the afternoon they cried out, Land! and proceeding further on, we saw the grove near Yarmouth, and shortly afterwards Yarmouth steeple, southwest by west and west-southwest from us. We sailed more southerly and discovered the whole coast. We came to anchor about seven o'clock in 16 fathoms.

_14th, Sat.u.r.day._ It had been good weather through the night, and we had rested well. We saw when the sun rose, which shone against the coast and was entirely clear, how the coast ran. The land is not so high as it is west of the Thames to Land's End. There are many villages. Yarmouth looked like a pleasant little place, as it lay north-northwest of us. We saw many ships sailing one way and the other. Having waited for the ebb to run out we got under sail about eight o'clock. We sailed by Sowls,[454] and came to anchor again about three o'clock in the afternoon. The pa.s.sengers had everything ready to go ash.o.r.e, and so overland to London. There was a signal made with the flag from our ship, and a shot fired for a pilot or some one else to come on board. Towards evening a small boat came with five men, but no pilot. The flood making about nine or ten o'clock in the evening, and running along the whole Scottish and English coast, from the Orkneys to the Thames, we sailed on again until we came to another village where our pa.s.sengers went ash.o.r.e. It was about midnight. The weather was fine and the moon shone bright; we fired five or six guns. The minister was sad and complained that it was Sunday, or Sat.u.r.day evening, and he dared not go ash.o.r.e, lest he should break the Sabbath; but finally he let his wishes override his scruples, and went off with the pa.s.sengers. We obtained a pilot and some refreshments, and then sailed on till we came before Dunwich,[455] the oldest place in England, and once the mightiest in commerce. We came again to anchor in order to wait for the tide. The wind continued west-southwest.

[Footnote 454: Southwold, on the Suffolk coast.]

[Footnote 455: Dunwich, now mostly under the waters of the North Sea, was once an important place, and one of considerable antiquity. The bishopric of the East Saxons was established there in A.D. 630; indeed, the town dates from Roman times (Sitomagus).]

_15th, Sunday._ The wind mostly as before. We were under sail about ten o'clock, with the flood tide, and tacked along the land in seven fathoms of water to the point of Aldborough,[456] to reach which we made five or six short tacks. Running close to the sh.o.r.e, we came among a fleet of, I think, full 200 coal ships, all beating up the river, which made it difficult to avoid each other. We pa.s.sed through the King's Channel. I have never seen so many sunken ships as there were in the mouth of the Thames, full eight or ten in different places, from various causes. The tide being spent we came to anchor before a village called St. Peter.

[Footnote 456: Still on the Suffolk coast. The King's Channel, mentioned below, was the chief entrance into the estuary of the Thames from the northeast.]

_16th, Monday._ The wind being mostly north, the weather was cold and piercing. The whole fleet was under sail, with the flood tide, and we along with them. They had talked loudly in Boston of the sailing qualities of our ship, but almost the whole coal fleet sailed ahead of us.

_18th, Wednesday._ The wind remained still, with mist. We saw it would be some days yet before the ship would reach the city, and therefore determined to go up in a wherry, that is a row-boat, from Gravesend.

As soon as one came alongside we went aboard, and pa.s.sed by Gravesend and other villages. It was nine o'clock in the evening when we landed at St. Catharines,[457] and went to a tavern called the Dutch Smack, but they would not receive us. We then went to the Inlander, the landlord of which was a Fleming, and a Papist, but not the worst one.

We paid for the boat three English shillings in all. We three, namely, Vorsman, Jan Owins, the surgeon of our ship, a Rotterdammer, and myself, supped together; this was the first time we had slept in a bed in a long time.

[Footnote 457: Just east of the Tower of London, where now are the St.

Katharine Docks.]

_19th, Thursday._ We went through the city, the newly built portion[458] as well as the other, but we found it very different from what we had imagined. We went to the Exchange and conversed with our captain and the other pa.s.sengers. We endeavored to find the first vessel going to Holland. They told us there were two smacks or galiots lying ready, and would leave on Monday, for which we prepared ourselves.

[Footnote 458: Meaning the part newly built since the Great Fire of 1666.]

_20th, Friday._ We went to Withal [Whitehall], where the king resides, and where we supposed we should see something special in the buildings, but in this we were mistaken. There are better places in London; the best house there was the banqueting house, which does not surpa.s.s some merchants' houses in Amsterdam. We strolled into St.

James's Park, which is nothing but a large inclosed meadow, with some ca.n.a.ls and ditches dug through it, in one portion of which are ducks swimming, and willow trees planted. The guard on horseback coming ahead, we heard the king[459] was in the park. We went in, but did not see him; but walking through we saw his curiosities of birds which he kept there in cages slightly enough closed, such as eagles, cranes, a very large owl, a toucan, birds which we call _hoontjen_ in Friesland, _virviteaus_, doves, starlings, and others of little importance. He had received from the Indies, by the last ships, two ostriches or ca.s.sowaries which were shut up and much prized, though they are very common in Holland. We came to his horse stable; there was only one horse in it, and that was so lean it shamed every one, as also did the small size of the stable, which stood near that of the Duke of Monmouth, where there were six tolerable good Frisic horses, with a saddle horse or two. Our stables[460] look more kingly than these. We were about leaving the place when we heard them cry out, "To arms! to arms!" to a troop of soldiers standing there, and looking around, we saw at a distance the king coming, accompanied by six or eight n.o.blemen, from whom you could distinguish him only from his having his hat on his head, while they had theirs off. He saluted all who saluted him, as he pa.s.sed along, which he also did to us. I will not speak of his person as he has been sufficiently described by pen and burin. Nor will I speak of the condition of London. The long and short of it is, that city is larger than Amsterdam, but does not approach it, or any other city in Holland, either in neatness or in the regularity of the buildings, even those erected since the great fire. What are worthy of mention is a certain column, very high and well constructed, erected on the spot where the great fire broke out in 1666, and the Tower, not prettily built, but very old, constructed by the Romans in the time of Julius Caesar.[461] Whitehall and Westminster, and all within them, are not worth going to see.

[Footnote 459: Charles II.]

[Footnote 460: At Wieuwert.]

[Footnote 461: The Tower of London has no such antiquity. The oldest part dates from William the Conqueror. The monument commemorating the Great Fire, erected by Sir Christopher Wren, still stands in Fish Street Hill, near London Bridge.]

_21st, Sat.u.r.day._ Our ship having arrived before the city yesterday, we went on board to bring away our goods, as also did the surgeon. We took leave of the captain, mate, and carpenter, who was a young man and a Norwegian, stupid, but not the most evilly disposed. He had our love, and I had occasionally conversed with him when we were on the watch together at night, and sometimes made an impression upon him. He lived at Flushing, and wished, he said, that he could go and live with me even for nothing. He desired me not to forget him. I must also say this of the captain, that he was well known in London, and in all Boston, as a pious, good, and discreet man; but I was astonished when I saw and heard the following circ.u.mstance. A poor servant, who had served his time out in New England, came to him in Boston and asked if he could go over with him; he would do his best in working like any other sailor for his pa.s.sage, as he well understood shipwork. The captain told him he might go with him. When we were at sea, this person was sick several days, and when he recovered did as well as he could, but, it is true, he did not do all that an experienced sailor could have done. When we arrived in the North Sea the captain made a memorandum by which this poor fellow promised to pay half the pa.s.sage money, that is, thirty guilders, when he arrived in London. He called him, and read it to him, and told him, because he could not work like a good sailor, he must sign that writing, and if he did not do so, he would sell him again when he reached London, which he a.s.sured him would be done. The man began to complain and cry, saying he had not so promised, but he would work like any other, and do as well as he could. But notwithstanding his crying and objecting he had to sign the paper, or be sold. In this appeared the piety and sense of justice of our captain, though perhaps the other was not entirely without blame, though he had had blows enough. It seems he had some friends in London who paid the amount.