CAPTAIN COOK'S life, or the account of so much of it as is recoverable, has been so often recounted that there is no occasion to insert more in this publication than is necessary as a reference to the reader, to enable him to realise the career and character of the man.
Cook's first biographer, Andrew Kippis, wrote in 1788, and his work has recently been republished.* (* "A Narrative of the Voyage round the World, performed by Captain James Cook, with an Account of His Life" by A. Kippis, D.D., F.R.S. London: Bickers & Son 1889.)
The latest and best life is by Walter Besant,* (* "Captain Cook" by Walter Besant: "English Men of Action" London, Macmillan & Co. 1890.) whose graceful pen has given us a fascinating, interesting, and, as far as is possible, complete picture of this great Englishman. Many details of Cook's private life are lost, but enough has been collected by Mr. Besant to place our hero vividly before us, and a perusal of his work is strongly recommended.
Many things in the following sketch are taken from Mr. Besant, to whom I wish to tender my acknowledgments.
James Cook rose from nearly the lowest ranks. The second son of James Cook, a Yorkshire labourer, and Grace his wife, he was born on the edge of the Cleveland Hills on February 27th, 1728, in the little village of Marton, which lies about four miles south-south-east of Middlesborough, and five miles west of the well-known hill and landmark, Roseberry Topping. Eight years later his father removed to Great Ayton, which lies close under Roseberry Topping.
At the age of thirteen Cook, who, it is recorded, had had some elementary schooling both at Marton and Great Ayton, was apprenticed to one Sanderson, a draper and grocer of Staithes, a fishing village on the coast, about fourteen miles from Ayton and nine north-west of Whitby.
A year later Cook went, or ran away, to sea, shipping at Whitby on board the Freelove, a collier belonging to the brothers Walker.
In this hard school Cook learnt his sailor duties. No better training could have been found for his future responsibilities. Here he learnt to endure the utmost rigours of the sea. Constant fighting with North Sea gales, bad food, and cramped accommodation, taught him to regard with the indifference that afterwards distinguished him, all the hardships that he had to encounter, and led him to endure and persevere where others, less determined or more easily daunted by difficulties, would have hurried on, and left their work incomplete.
All details of Cook's life during his thirteen years in the merchant service are lost: what voyages he made, how he fared, whether he advanced in general knowledge, all is gone. The only fact known is that in May 1755, when Cook was twenty-seven years of age, and mate of a vessel of Messrs. Walker, then in the Thames, he, to avoid the press, then active on account of the outbreak of the war with France, volunteered on board H.M.S. Eagle, of 60 guns, as an able seaman.
Captain Hugh Palliser, who succeeded to the command of this ship in October, was certainly Cook's warmest patron, and it would appear that Cook did work superior to that of an able seaman in the Eagle. Be that as it may, all that is absolutely known is that that ship took her share of the fighting at the taking of Louisbourg and elsewhere on the North American and West Indian Station, and returned to England in 1759.
By Palliser's interest Cook was now appointed master of the Mercury. It is therefore evident that his qualifications as a navigator recommended themselves to Palliser.
The Mercury went to North America, and here Cook did his first good service recorded, namely, taking soundings in the St. Lawrence, to enable the fleet then attacking Quebec to take up safe positions in covering the army under Wolfe. This he accomplished with great skill, under many difficulties, in the face of the enemy, much of it being done at night. He was immediately employed in making a survey of the intricate channels of the river below Quebec, and for many years his chart was the guide for navigation. Cook was indeed a born surveyor. Before his day charts were of the crudest description, and he must have somehow acquired a considerable knowledge of trigonometry, and possessed an intuitive faculty for practically applying it, to enable him to originate, as it may truly be said he did, the art of modern marine surveying.
The expedition to Quebec concluded, Cook was appointed master of the Northumberland, bearing Admiral Lord Colville's flag, and during that ship's winter at Halifax he applied himself to further study of mathematics and astronomy.
In 1762, the Northumberland being at Newfoundland during the capture of that island from the French, Cook again was employed in surveys. This attracted the attention of Captain Graves, the Governor, who conceived a high opinion of his abilities in this respect.
In the latter part of 1762 Cook returned to England and married Elizabeth Batts, daughter of a man in business at Wapping; but a few months afterwards he was called upon by Captain Graves to go again to Newfoundland to make marine surveys.
In this important work he was engaged until 1767, Captain Palliser, who succeeded Captain Graves as Governor, being only too glad to avail himself of Cook's services.
The charts he made during these years in the schooner Grenville were admirable. The best proof of their excellence is that they are not yet wholly superseded by the more detailed surveys of modern times. Like all first surveys of a practically unknown shore, and especially when that shore abounds in rocks and shoals, and is much indented with bays and creeks, they are imperfect, in the sense of having many omissions; but when the amount of the ground covered, and the impediments of fogs and bad weather on that coast is considered, and that Cook had at the most only one assistant, their accuracy is truly astonishing. The originals of these surveys form part of the most precious possessions of the Hydrographic Office of the Admiralty.
We now approach the crowning achievements of Cook's life.
After many years' neglect the exploration of the Pacific was awaking interest. This great ocean, which very few, even to this day, realise occupies nearly one half of the surface of the globe, had been, since the first voyage of Magellan, crossed by many a vessel.
Notwithstanding, very little was known of the islands occupying its central portion.
For this there were two reasons. First, the comparatively small area covered by islands; secondly, the fact that nearly all who traversed it had followed Magellan's track, or, if they started, as many did, from Central America, they made straight for Magellan's discovery, the Ladrone Islands. For this, again, there was a reason.
Few sailed for the purpose of exploration pure and simple; and even those who started with that view found, when embarked on that vast expanse, that prudence dictated that they should have a moderate certainty of, by a certain time, falling in with a place of sure refreshment. The provisions they carried were bad at starting, and by the time they had fought their way through the Straits of Magellan were already worse; water was limited, and would not hold out more than a given number of days. Every voyage that is pursued tells the same story--short of water, and eagerly looking out for an opportunity of replenishing it. The winds were found to blow in fixed directions, and each voyager was fearful of deviating from the track on which it was known they would be fair, for fear of delays. And ever present in each captain's mind was the dread of the terrible scourge, scurvy. Every expedition suffered from it. Each hoped they would be exempt, and each in turn was reduced to impotence from its effects.
It was the great consideration for every leader of a protracted expedition, How can I obviate this paralyzing influence? And one after another had to confess his failure.
It is yearly becoming more difficult for us to realise these obstacles.
The prevailing winds and currents in each part of the ocean are well known to us: the exact distance and bearing from one point to another are laid down in the chart; steam bridges over calm areas, and in many cases conducts us on our entire journey at a speed but little inferior to that of land travelling by railroad; modern science preserves fresh and palatable food for an indefinite period; and, in a word, all the difficulties and most of the dangers of long voyages have disappeared.
Take one element alone in long voyages--the time required. The average progress of a ship in the eighteenth century was not more than fifty miles a day. Nowadays we may expect as much as four hundred miles in a full powered steamer, and not less than one hundred and fifty in a well-fitted sailing ship.
But navigation, and more especially the navigation of the unknown Pacific, was very different in Cook's days, when all the obstacles above mentioned impeded the explorers, and impelled them to follow a common track.
There were a few who had deviated from the common track.
The Spaniards, Mendana, Quiros, Torres, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, starting first from their colonies in Peru, had ventured along the central line of the Pacific, discovering the Marquesas, certain small coral islands, the Northern New Hebrides, and the Solomon Islands; but their voyages, mainly for fear of Drake and his successors, were kept so secret that no one quite knew where these islands lay.
Abel Tasman, in 1642, coming across the Indian Ocean from the westward, had touched at Tasmania, or, as he called it, Van Diemen's Land, had skirted the western coast of the north island of New Zealand without landing, and had stretched away to the north-east, and found the Tonga Group.
The English Buccaneers were not among these discoverers; Dampier, Woods Rogers, and others, all went from Acapulco to the Ladrones, looking out for the valuable Spanish galleons from Manila, and they added little or nothing to the knowledge of the Pacific and what it contained.
It was not therefore strange that the imagination of geographers ran riot amongst the great unknown areas. They were impressed, as they looked at the globes of the day, with the fact that, while the northern hemisphere contained much land, the southern showed either water or blank spaces; and starting with the ill-founded idea that the solid land in either hemisphere should balance, they conceived that there must be a great unknown continent in the southern part of the Pacific to make up the deficiency. This was generally designated Terra Australis Incognita, and many is the ancient chart that shows it, sketched with a free and uncontrolled hand, around the South Pole. It was held by many that Tasman had touched it in New Zealand; that Quiros had seen it near his island of Encarnacion, and again at Espiritu Santo (New Hebrides), but no one had been to see.
In George III's reign the desire to know more of this unknown ocean arose in England. The king himself took great interest in it, and for the first time since Queen Elizabeth's age, when Davis, Frobisher, Drake, Narborough, and others, had gone on voyages of discovery, the pursuit was renewed.
In 1764 the Dolphin and Tamor, under the command of Commodore Byron and Captain Mouat, sailed on a voyage round the world. They spent some time, as ordered, in exploring the Falkland Islands, and, after a two months' passage through Magellan Strait, they stood across the Pacific. They, however, also followed near the well-beaten track, and passing north of the Paumotus, of which they sighted a few small islands, they too made for the Ladrones. As usual, they suffered much from scurvy, and the one idea was to get to a known place to recover. Byron returned in May 1766, having added but little to the knowledge of the Pacific, and the Dolphin was again sent in the August of the same year, with the Swallow, under the command of Captains Wallis and Carteret, on a similar voyage.
They did somewhat better. After the usual struggle through the long and narrow Strait of Magellan, against the strong and contrary winds that continually blow, and which occupied four months, they got into the Pacific.
As they passed out they separated, the Dolphin outsailing the Swallow, and a dispassionate reader cannot well escape the conclusion that the senior officers unnecessarily parted company.
The Dolphin kept a little south of the usual route, fell in with some of the Paumotu Group, and finally discovered Tahiti, where she anchored at Royal Bay, after grounding on a reef at its entrance, with her people, as usual, decimated by scurvy. They were almost immediately attacked by the natives, who, however, received such a reception that they speedily made friends, and fast friends too. The remainder of the month of the Dolphin stay was marked with the most friendly intercourse, and she sailed with a high opinion of Tahiti and the Tahitians; the Queen, Cook's Obereia, being especially well disposed to them. Their communication with the natives must, however, have been limited, as they remained too short a time to learn the language, and we gather little of the manners and customs from the account of the voyage.
After sailing from Tahiti we hear the same tale--sickness, want of water, doubt of what was before them. After sailing by several small islands, and an attempt to water at one, course was steered as before for the Ladrones. Let Wallis tell his own story. He says:--
"I considered that watering here would be tedious and attended with great fatigue; that it was now the depth of winter in the southern hemisphere; that the ship was leaky, that the rudder shook in the stern very much, and that what other damage she might have received in her bottom could not be known. That for these reasons she was very unfit for the bad weather which she would certainly meet with, either in going round Cape Horn or through the Streight of Magellan; that if she should get safely through the streight or round the Cape, it would be absolutely necessary to refresh in some port; but in that case no port would be in her reach. I therefore determined to make the best of my way to Tinian, Batavia, and so to Europe by the Cape of Good Hope.
"By this rout, as far as we could judge, we should sooner be at home; and if the ship should prove not to be in a condition to make the whole voyage, we should still save our lives, as from this place to Batavia we should probably have a calm sea, and be not far from a port."
These are scarcely the sentiments of a bold explorer, and we shall look in vain for any similar ideas on the part of Cook. Here was a ship just a year from England, just come from a convenient and friendly island, where every refreshment and opportunity for refit were to be found, and the only thought is how to get home again!
It was the vastly different conduct of Cook's voyages; the determination that nothing should stop the main object of the expedition; his resource in every difficulty and danger; that caused, and rightly caused, him to be hailed as a born leader of such expeditions.
Wallis followed nearly on Byron's track: went from the Ladrones, through the China Sea, to Batavia, and so home, arriving in May 1768.
The Swallow, under Captain Carteret, was navigated in a different spirit. She was badly fitted out for such a voyage, had not even a forge, and all the articles for trade were on board the Dolphin. But Carteret was not easily daunted. He might, under the circumstances, when he found himself alone, have abandoned the voyage; but he boldly went forward. Passing from the Strait of Magellan, he touched at Juan Fernandez, and steering somewhat south of Wallis's line, he passed south of Tahiti, discovering Pitcairn's Island on his way, and some of the islands south of the Paumotus.
By this time his people were severely afflicted with scurvy, and his ship in a bad state; but Carteret only thought of getting to some place of refreshment, from which he might afterwards pass on his voyage towards the south, in the hope of falling in with the great southern Continent.
In this he was not fortunate. Missing all other islands, he fell across the Santa Cruz Group, and hoping that he had found what he wanted, he anchored and tried to water. The party were, however, attacked by the natives, and several, including the master, were wounded and died by poisoned arrows. All hope of a quiet refit was over, and his ship's company being in a wretched condition, no forge or tools on board to enable him to effect his many repairs, Carteret, who was himself very ill, was obliged to give up all intention of exploration to the southward. He got enough water to last him, and sailed on toward the Solomon Islands. These he also just missed, but fell in with New Britain, and passing between it and New Ireland, demonstrated for the first time that these two large islands were not one, as had been supposed. He here managed to do something to repair his leaky vessel, heeling and caulking her, but got little but fruit for his scurvy-stricken crew. He was attacked by the fierce islanders, and was altogether unable to do as much as he evidently earnestly desired towards examining the islands.
Thence they struggled on by Mindanao to Makassar in Celebes, delayed by contrary winds, disappointed of refreshments at every place they tried, and losing men from scurvy. At Makassar they met with but an inhospitable reception from the Dutch, who refused to permit them to receive refreshments there, and after waiting at Bonthain, a place in Celebes, several months, for the monsoon to change, they at last arrived at Batavia, the only port in the Dutch Indies really open to ships, in June 1768. Thence, after heaving down and a thorough repair, they reached home, via the Cape, on March 20th, 1769.
Of all the voyages before Cook's, Carteret's showed most determination and true spirit of enterprise; and had his ship been better supplied, and more suited to the exigencies of such a long cruise, he would, but for one thing, have accomplished far more. This was the fatal disease, which no captain had as yet succeeded in warding off, and which hampered and defeated the efforts of the most enthusiastic. No man could go beyond a certain point in disregarding the health of his crew.
These, then, were the kind of voyages, with their scanty fruits, to which the English people were getting accustomed, and they were not such as to encourage repetition.
In all the years that had elapsed since the Spaniards first sailed on the Pacific, but little real knowledge of the lands in it had been gained.
Let us attempt to give a picture of what was known.
The Marquesas and Santa Cruz Group were known to exist; but of the Solomons grave doubts were felt, as no man had seen them but Mendana, and they were, if placed on a map at all, shown in very different longitudes.
Several voyagers had sighted different members of the extensive Paumotu Group, but the varying positions caused great confusion.
Tahiti had been found by Wallis.
Tasman had laid down the south point of Tasmania, the western coast of the North Island of New Zealand, and the Tonga Islands. Dampier and Carteret had shown that New Britain and New Ireland were separate islands, lying north-east of New Guinea. Quiros had found the northern island of the New Hebrides.
But of none of these lands was anything really known. Those who had visited them had merely touched. In no case had they gone round them, or ascertained their limits, and their descriptions, founded on brief experience, were bald and much exaggerated.
Let us turn to what was unknown.
This comprises the whole of the east coast of Australia, or New Holland, and whether it was joined to Tasmania on the south, and New Guinea to the north; the dimensions of New Zealand; New Caledonia and the New Hebrides, with the exception of the fact that the northern island of the latter existed; the Fiji Islands; Sandwich Islands; the Phoenix, Union, Ellice, Gilbert, and Marshall Groups, with innumerable small islands scattered here and there; the Cook Islands, and all the Society Islands except Tahiti. The majority of the Paumotu Group. The coast of North America north of 45 degrees north was unknown, and there was the great, undefined, and imaginary southern Continent to disprove.
Whether other voyages of exploration would have been undertaken one cannot say; but in 1768 the Royal Society put in a word.
A transit of Venus over the sun's disc was to occur in 1769, and astronomers were anxious to take advantage of it, the object of the observation being to ascertain the distance of the earth from the sun, the fundamental base line in all astronomical measurements, and which was very imperfectly known.
The Central Pacific afforded a favourable position, and the Royal Society memorialised the king to send a ship for the purpose. The request was granted, and at first Alexander Dalrymple, who had conducted marine surveys in the East Indies, and was known as a scientific geographer, was selected as observer. As, however, it was found that he also expected to command the ship, the Admiralty positively refused to have anything to do with him, and after some discussion James Cook was selected.
This says volumes for Cook's reputation at the time. To have risen absolutely from the ranks was a great deal, but to be chosen as a master, to command a ship, and undertake a scientific observation of this importance, was a most exceptional occurrence, and speaks well for the judgment of those who had the selection.
It seems that Mr. Stephens, the Secretary to the Admiralty, had much to do with it. How Stephens had become acquainted with Cook history does not relate, but doubtless his personal visits to the Admiralty in connection with the completion of his charts of Newfoundland, from which he returned every winter, had brought him into contact with the Secretary, who had clearly formed a high opinion of him.
Cook, we may be sure, jumped at the chance, and his pride must have been great when he found he was to receive a commission as Lieutenant.
This in itself was a most unusual step. The occasions on which a master had been transferred to the executive line of the Royal Navy were very rare, and many an admiral used his influence in favour of some deserving officer in vain.
This was not without good reason, as the whole training of the Master of those days was unfavourable to success in command of ships or men. The exception was, however, in this case amply justified.
Cook was allowed to choose his vessel, and bearing in mind the dangers of grounding in unknown seas, he pitched upon his old friends, the stoutly-built, full-bottomed colliers of the North Sea trade.
His ship, the Endeavour, was a Whitby built vessel of three hundred and seventy tons, and was known as H.M. Bark Endeavour, there being another vessel, a cutter, of the same name in the Royal Navy. She was brought to the dockyard at Deptford to fit out. Her appearance was, of course, wholly different from that of a vessel built as a man-of-war, and we shall see that this caused trouble at Rio Janeiro, where the combination of merchant build and officers in uniform in an armed ship, aroused suspicions in the mind of the Portuguese Viceroy.
It is nowhere directly stated whether the Endeavour was sheathed with copper or not; but as Cook in the account of his second voyage expresses himself as adverse to this method of protecting ships' bottoms, and the operation is recorded of heeling and boot topping, which was cleaning and greasing the part of the ship just below waterline, it may be concluded that her sheathing was wood.
She proved a most suitable vessel. The log states she was a little crank, but an admirable sea-boat. Her rate of sailing was of course, with her build, slow, but her strength and flat bottom stood her in good stead when she made acquaintance with a coral reef.
She mounted ten small carriage guns and twelve swivels.
Mr. Banks, a scientific botanist, afterwards well known as Sir Joseph Banks, and for a long time President of the Royal Society, a gentleman of private means, volunteered to accompany Cook, and took with him a staff of his own, of artists and others.
He also induced Dr. Solander, a Swedish naturalist, afterwards attached to the British Museum, to accompany him.
Mr. Charles Green, one of the assistants at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, was sent as astronomer.
This scientific staff added much to the success of the expedition.