CAMEO XXXVII. They never expected to see her again, and they were thus left with only a very small Spanish prize not able to hold them, and only one Return of charge of powder for each firelock; besides that, all their treasure was gone! Anson. 1744. However, Anson kept up their hearts, and set them to work to lengthen the little vessel; but, before this was done, there was a joyful cry, "The ship, the ship!" The few sailors on board had actually been able to bring the good Centurion back again! In glad spirits, they reached Macao, where there was a Portuguese settlement, and though the Governor of this made difficulties, Anson made the Chinese consent to his purchasing all he wanted, and completely refitting his ship. Actually, this gallant man then steered out towards the Philippines, and after a sharp fight, captured the huge galleon of which he had before been disappointed, with a million and a half of dollars in her, and 550 men, more than doubling the English. He sold this ship at Macao, and brought his good old Centurion home from her noble career in June, 1744. The crew of the Wager, too-so called after Sir Charles Wager-had a story of their own, which we know from the narratives of a young midshipman of seventeen, John Byron, and of the gunner, John Bulkeley. The Captain died on the way out, so that the first lieutenant, whose name was Cheap, was in command during the terrible passage through the Straits; but in the ensuing tempest the Wager was terribly shattered, and was found to be drifting on a lee shore. The acting Captain was an obstinate man and would not alter her course, and by and by she struck, was lifted again by a tremendous wave, and dashed on a rock higher up. Nothing but breakers could be seen around, and many of the poor creatures, who were sick already, became some wild, some stupefied with terror, so that there were few left capable of doing good service. Cheap was in bed from the effects of an accident, but as soon as the dawn showed land at no great distance, he gave orders for the boats to be lowered, declaring, however, that he would be the last to leave the ship. The sailors, however, were staving in the casks of liquor, and getting into a riotous state, refusing to leave the ship while any rum was left. On this, finding himself incapable of restraining them, he allowed himself to be carried to a boat and landed. The place is still called Wager Island, 46° 42′′ south latitude, near enough to the continent for the ridge of the Andes to be visible. I was desolate, wet, cold, and dreary, but there were some trees, and an empty native hut. About 140 men were landed, and an officer visited the wreck the next day, and found the rest in a state of disorder. Indeed, when a storm arose in the night, they were so angry that no one came to take them off, that they fired one of the guns at the hut. When they did come, they were full of riot, and dressed in the laced coats of the officers. Cheap was so indignant that he knocked the CAMEO XXXVII. 1741. boatswain down with his cane, telling him he deserved to be shot, which was true enough, only it was not a good time for so speaking; but Cheap, though a brave officer and good seaman, was not fit for The Wager. this extraordinary situation, and though at last there was a store tent set up and provisions served out from those in the ship, this was not till there had been much suffering and some deaths from hunger. Young Byron kept apart in a hut, living on limpets, with an Indian dog which grew very fond of him, but some of the hungry mutinous sailors took the poor creature away by force, killed, and ate it. And three weeks later Byron was actually so hungry as to devour the paws and skin. Ten of the mutineers tried to blow up the hovel where the Captain slept, but one repented and disclosed the plot. Afterwards they took two boats and sailed away. Cheap seems to have lived in a state of suspicion, and hearing a disturbance going on, he rushed out, and shot a midshipman named Couzens in the head. The poor lad survived for several days, but the Captain would not allow him to be moved into his messmate's tent, and he died, lying on the ground, only sheltered by a sail, hung over some bushes. Eighty-one of the shipwrecked crew decided on endeavouring to make their way to some settlement, instead of senselessly starving on the island, and they went off in the long boat, cutter, and barge. Byron started with them, but when he found that Captain Cheap had been left behind, he thought it his duty to remain with his superior officer, and he and some others went back in the barge. Bulkeley, who was among the others, says that at the parting this young gentleman was unselfishly refusing a hat which one of the seamen wished to force on him. "I can bear hardships as well as you," he said, and went bareheaded. After much difficulty and dissension, the boats got through the Straits of Magellan, and met with some Patagonians on the shore, with whom they traded for food. They coasted along, often suffering dreadfully from hunger; but things mended as they went farther north, and fell in with seals, also parrots and armadillos, and saw many wild horses and dogs. One horse which was shot for food, was branded A R, the first token of civilisation. Soon after they fell in with some Brazilian Portuguese, and Bulkeley knew enough of the language to make himself understood. When they entered the Rio Grande, they were kindly treated by the Portuguese, who were in alliance with England, and after four months' detention at Bahia were sent to Lisbon, and thence home, where they arrived on the 21st of January, 1742. When Byron returned to Wager Island, he found Cheap and twenty men there, and now, after seven months' time wasted there, the plan was to use the long December days of the Antarctic summer in trying to reach the island of Chiloe, seize a Spanish vessel, and follow Anson; but this did not succeed, and after losing four men, they returned to Wager Island, and were nearly starved. However, some Indians visited CAMEO XXXVII. Byron. 1743. them, now that they were free of the mutineers, and an Indian chief, a Christian apparently, undertook to guide them to a settlement. They were nearly starved on the way, and Cheap was as selfish as ever, actually letting a poor man die at his feet begging for a morsel of the seal's flesh that he was devouring. At last they reached Chiloe, where they had no lack of food, but were prisoners of Spain, and were sent to Santiago. By this time only the four survived, Captain Cheap, Lieutenant Hamilton, Midshipman Byron, and one seaman. A Scottish doctor, who had long been in practice there, took Byron into his house, and procured that they should be sent to Brest in a French ship. Thence, after some delay, they were allowed to return to England. Sharing their small amount of money, Byron had just enough to take him to London, without food or paying turnpikes, through which he galloped headlong. His family, who had given him up for dead, were not in town, but he found out from a linen-draper that his sister, Lady Carlisle, was in London. Her porter would hardly listen to the wild ragged-looking young sailor, but at last he was admitted, and his troubles were over. He became an admiral and a Peer, and was the grandfather of the poet. One benefit from these disasters was that an order was issued subjecting shipwrecked sailors on land to the same discipline as in their ship, and making disobedience mutiny. A FAR more serious war than that with Spain had begun by the time the scattered mariners of Anson's expedition had returned. The year 1740 had been fatal to three European sovereigns. On July 31st gout and dropsy carried off the old Corporal of Potsdam, Frederick William I. of Prussia. He had drawn up directions for his own funeral, and chosen the text of the sermon then to be preached, and his son Frederick II. was thus left free to indulge his tastes for French philosophy, and for conquest, at the head of one of the finest armies in existence. In October died the Emperor Charles VI. in a very pious and affectionate frame of mind. He had been an incapable ruler, and a dull and sluggish general, and the waste in his palaces and among his attendants was something enormous. The amount charged for red wine and bread for the imperial parrots was more than three hundred florins per annum, so that it was no wonder that there was only a hundred thousand left in the treasury! Still, he was highly accomplished, excellent in horsemanship, learned in every way, and a great musician. He attracted the best performers to Vienna, and himself composed an opera, when he played in the orchestra, and his daughters danced. He founded a public library at Vienna, repaired the great old Roman road of Trajan, and was altogether a beneficent and kindly monarch at home. The third death was that of Anne of Russia. She left the crown to her sister's grandson, Ivan of Brunswick; but he was only six months old, and Elizabeth, a daughter of Peter the Great, persuaded the army to accept her as their sovereign, and showed herself to the people with the child in her arms. Afterwards, however, she shut him up in a prison, at first with his parents; but afterwards they were sent to a dismal island in the White Sea, while the poor youth remained in solitude and CAMEO XXXVIII. Deaths of Frederick William I., and Charles VI. 1740. CAMEO XXXVIII. Maria Theresa. 1740. darkness in his dungeon till he was twenty-four years old, when, on the discovery of a plot for his release, he was put to death, and his corpse was handed to those who were trying to free him. The death of Charles VI. showed how futile had been the Pragmatic Sanction, which had, in truth, been a great injustice, since it gave the hereditary dominions of the house of Hapsburg, namely Austria, Bohemia, Hungary, and Flanders to the daughters of the younger brother Charles, in preference to the daughters of the elder brother Joseph. These latter ladies, Maria Amelia and Maria Josepha, were married, the one to Charles Albert, Elector Duke of Bavaria, and the other to Frederick Augustus, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland; and the first of these princes had no intention of being bound by the Sanction, and began to make alliances. Bavaria called on its old friend France, and the new King of Prussia was chiefly resolved on winning what he could for his little kingdom. Maria Theresa's army was only 30,000 men; her small treasury was all the property of her mother. Letters came addressed not to the Queen of Hungary, but to the Archduchess of Austria, or the Grand Duchess of Tuscany, her husband's title. She was only twenty-three, and no one expected her, or her equally young husband, to have more ability than the rest of the long-decaying house of Hapsburg, of which she and her sister were the last. Frederick of Prussia was totally devoid of chivalrous forbearance towards an orphaned princess. There were some obsolete claims of the house of Hohenzollern to portions of Silesia, and accordingly, having gathered together his troops, he secretly quitted Berlin in the midst of a masked ball on the 23rd of December, saying to the French Ambassador, "I am going, I believe, to play your game, and if I should throw doublets, we will share the stakes," and at the same time he sent an agent to Vienna to announce to Maria Theresa that if she would cede Silesia to him he would adhere to the Pragmatic Sanction and give his vote, as Elector of Brandenburg, for her husband as emperor. The high spirit of the young sovereign was revolted by the threat, and she answered that she had rather perish than make such terms with him. She had only 3,000 men in Silesia, and they were forced to retreat into Bavaria, whither she sent Count Neipperg, who had been thrown into prison for signing a disadvantageous peace with the Turks. Twenty-four thousand men were brought together, and Neipperg, leading them into Silesia, met Frederick at Molwitz. The Austrian cavalry carried all before it, and drove off all the Prussians, who swept away Frederick himself in their flight. When the fugitives reached Appellen, a troop of Austrians sallied out against them. Frederick turned round to Maupertuis, a French mathematician, and some other attendants who were with him, saying, "Farewell, friends, I am much better mounted than you"-and rode on, leaving them to be taken prisoners. It was not chivalrous, and they were very angry; but it is to be remembered that they were in no real danger, and that for him to have |