Robinson Crusoe (Penguin ed.)

by Daniel Defoe

  He bid me observe it, and I should always find, that the calamities of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind; but that the middle station had the fewest disasters, and was not expos’d to so many vicissitudes as the higher or lower part of mankind; nay, they were not subjected to so many distempers and uneasinesses either of body or mind, as those were who, by vicious living, luxury and extravagancies on one hand, or by hard labour, want of necessaries, and mean or insufficient diet on the other hand, bring distempers upon themselves by the natural consequences of their way of living; that the middle station of life was calculated for all kind of vertues and all kind of enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the hand-maids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation, quietness, health, society, all agreeable diversions, and all desirable pleasures, were the blessings attending the middle station of life; that this way men went silently and smoothly thro’ the world, and comfortably out of it, not embarrass’d with the labours of the hands or of the head, not sold to the life of slavery for daily bread, or harrast with perplex’d circumstances, which rob the soul of peace, and the body of rest; not enrag’d with the passion of envy, or secret burning lust of ambition for great things; but in easy circumstances sliding gently thro’ the world, and sensibly tasting the sweets of living, without the bitter feeling that they are happy, and learning by every day’s experience to know it more sensibly.

  After this, he press’d me earnestly, and in the most affectionate manner, not to play the young man, not to precipitate my self into miseries which Nature and the station of life I was born in, seem’d to have provided against; that I was under no necessity of seeking my bread; that he would do well for me, and endeavour to enter me fairly into the station of life which he had been just recommending to me; and that if I was not very easy and happy in the world, it must be my meer fate or fault that must hinder it, and that he should have nothing to answer for, having thus discharg’d his duty in warning me against measures which he knew would be to my hurt: In a word, that as he would do very kind things for me if I would stay and settle at home as he directed, so he would not have so much hand in my misfortunes, as to give me any encouragement to go away: And to close all, he told me I had my elder brother for an example, to whom he had used the same earnest perswasions to keep him from going into the Low Country wars, but could not prevail, his young desires prompting him to run into the army where he was kill’d; and tho’ he said he would not cease to pray for me, yet he would venture to say to me, that if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless me, and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel when there might be none to assist in my recovery.

  I observed in this last part of his discourse, which was truly prophetick, tho’ I suppose my father did not know it to be so himself; I say, I observed the tears run down his face very plentifully, and especially when he spoke of my brother who was kill’d; and that when he spoke of my having leisure to repent, and none to assist me, he was so mov’d, that he broke off the discourse, and told me, his heart was so full, he could say no more to me.

  I was sincerely affected with this discourse, as indeed who could be otherwise; and I resolv’d not to think of going abroad any more, but to settle at home according to my father’s desire. But alas! a few days wore it all off; and in short, to prevent any of my father’s farther importunities, in a few weeks after, I resolv’d to run quite away from him. However, I did not act so hastily neither as my first heat of resolution prompted, but I took my mother, at a time when I thought her a little pleasanter than ordinary, and told her, that my thoughts were so entirely bent upon seeing the world, that I should never settle to any thing with resolution enough to go through with it, and my father had better give me his consent than force me to go without it; that I was now eighteen years old, which was too late to go apprentice to a trade, or clerk to an attorney; that I was sure if I did, I should never serve out my time, and I should certainly run away from my master before my time was out, and go to sea; and if she would speak to my father to let me go but one voyage abroad, if I came home again and did not like it, I would go no more, and I would promise by a double diligence to recover that time I had lost.

  This put my mother into a great passion: She told me, she knew it would be to no purpose to speak to my father upon any such subject; that he knew too well what was my interest to give his consent to any such thing so much for my hurt, and that she wondered how I could think of any such thing after such a discourse as I had had with my father, and such kind and tender expressions as she knew my father had us’d to me; and that in short, if I would ruin my self there was no help for me; but I might depend I should never have their consent to it: That for her part she would not have so much hand in my destruction; and I should never have it to say, that my mother was willing when my father was not.

  Tho’ my mother refused to move it to my father, yet as I have heard afterwards, she reported all the discourse to him, and that my father after shewing a great concern at it, said to her with a sigh, That boy might be happy if he would stay at home, but if he goes abroad, he will be the miserablest wretch that was ever born: I can give no consent to it.

  It was not till almost a year after this that I broke loose, tho’ in the mean time I continued obstinately deaf to all proposals of settling to business, and frequently expostulating with my father and mother, about their being so positively determin’d against what they knew my inclinations prompted me to. But being one day at Hull, where I went casually, and without any purpose of making an elopement that time; but I say, being there, and one of my companions being going by sea to London, in his father’s ship, and prompting me to go with them, with the common allurement of seafaring men, viz. That it should cost me nothing for my passage, I consulted neither father or mother any more, nor so much as sent them word of it; but leaving them to hear of it as they might, without asking God’s blessing, or my father’s, without any consideration of circumstances or consequences, and in an ill hour, God knows, on the first of September 1651,6 I went on board a ship bound for London; never any young adventurer’s misfortunes, I believe, began sooner, or continued longer than mine. The ship was no sooner gotten out of the Humber,7 but the wind began to blow, and the sea to rise in a most frightful manner; and as I had never been at sea before, I was most inexpressibly sick in body, and terrify’d in my mind: I began now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how justly I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for my wicked leaving my father’s house, and abandoning my duty; all the good counsel of my parents, my father’s tears and my mother’s entreaties came now fresh into my mind, and my conscience, which was not yet come to the pitch of hardness which it has been since, reproach’d me with the contempt of advice, and the breach of my duty to God and my father.

  All this while the storm encreas’d, and the sea, which I had never been upon before, went very high, tho’ nothing like what I have seen many times since; no, nor like what I saw a few days after: But it was enough to affect me then, who was but a young sailor, and had never known any thing of the matter. I expected every wave would have swallowed us up, and that every time the ship fell down, as I thought, in the trough or hollow of the sea, we should never rise more; and in this agony of mind, I made many vows and resolutions, that if it would please God here to spare my life this one voyage, if ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I would go directly home to my father, and never set it into a ship again while I liv’d; that I would take his advice, and never run my self into such miseries as these any more. Now I saw plainly the goodness of his observations about the middle station of life, how easy, how comfortably he had liv’d all his days, and never had been expos’d to tempests at sea, or troubles on shore; and I resolv’d that I would, like a true repenting Prodigal,8 go home to my father.

  These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm continued, and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind was abated and the sea calmer
, and I began to be a little inur’d to it: However I was very grave for all that day, being also a little sea sick still; but towards night the weather clear’d up, the wind was quite over, and a charming fine evening follow’d; the sun went down perfectly clear, and rose so the next morning; and having little or no wind, and a smooth sea, the sun shining upon it, the sight was, as I thought, the most delightful that ever I saw.

  I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea sick, but very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough and terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so little time after. And now lest my good resolutions should continue, my companion, who had indeed entic’d me away, comes to me, Well Bob, says he, clapping me upon the shoulder, How do you do after it? I warrant you were frighted, wa’n’t you last night, when it blew but a cap full of wind? A cap full d’you call it? said I, ’twas a terrible storm: A storm, you fool you, replies he, do you call that a storm why it was nothing at all; give us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such a squall of wind as that; but you’re but a fresh water sailor, Bob; come let us make a bowl of punch and we’ll forget all that, d’ye see what charming weather ’tis now. To make short this sad part of my story, we went the old way of all sailors, the punch was made, and I was made drunk with it, and in that one night’s wickedness I drowned all my repentance, all my reflections upon my past conduct, and all my resolutions for my future. In a word, as the sea was returned to its smoothness of surface and settled calmness by the abatement of that storm, so the hurry of my thoughts being over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallow’d up by the sea being forgotten, and the current of my former desires return’d, I entirely forgot the vows and promises that I made in my distress. I found indeed some intervals of reflection, and the serious thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes, but I shook them off, and rouz’d my self from them as it were from a distemper, and applying my self to drink and company, soon master’d the return of those fits, for so I call’d them, and I had in five or six days got as compleat a victory over conscience as any young fellow that resolv’d not to be troubled with it, could desire: But I was to have another trial for it still; and Providence, as in such cases generally it does, resolv’d to leave me entirely without excuse. For if I would not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the worst and most harden’d wretch among us would confess both the danger and the mercy.

  The sixth day of our being at sea we came into Yarmouth9 Roads; the wind having been contrary, and the weather calm, we had made but little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to anchor, and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary, viz. at south-west, for seven or eight days, during which time a great many ships from Newcastle came into the same roads, as the common harbour where the ships might wait for a wind for the river.

  We had not however rid here so long, but should have tided it up the river, but that the wind blew too fresh; and after we had lain four or five days, blew very hard. However, the roads being reckoned as good as a harbour, the anchorage good, and our ground-tackle very strong, our men were unconcerned, and not in the least apprehensive of danger, but spent the time in rest and mirth, after the manner of the sea; but the eighth day in the morning, the wind encreased, and we had all hands at work to strike our top-masts, and make every thing snug and close, that the ship might ride as easy as possible. By noon the sea went very high indeed, and our ship rid forecastle in, shipp’d several seas, and we thought once or twice our anchor had come home; upon which our Master order’d out the sheet anchor; so that we rode with two anchors a-head, and the cables vered out to the better end.

  By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed, and now I began to see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves. The Master, tho’ vigilant to the business of preserving the ship, yet as he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him softly to himself say several times, Lord be merciful to us, we shall be all lost, we shall be all undone; and the like. During these first hurries, I was stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage, and cannot describe my temper: I could ill re-assume the first penitence which I had so apparently trampled upon, and harden’d my self against: I thought the bitterness of death had been past, and that this would be nothing too like the first. But when the Master himself came by me, as I said just now, and said we should be all lost, I was dreadfully frighted: I got up out of my cabin, and look’d out; but such a dismal sight I never saw: The sea went mountains high, and broke upon us every three or four minutes: When I could look about, I could see nothing but distress round us: Two ships that rid near us, we found, had cut their masts by the board, being deep loaden; and our men cry’d out, that a ship which rid about a mile a-head of us was foundered. Two more ships being driven from their anchors, were run out of the roads to sea, at all adventures, and that with not a mast standing. The light ships fared the best, as not so much labouring in the sea; but two or three of them drove, and came close by us, running away with only their sprit-sail out before the wind.

  Towards evening the Mate and Boat-swain begg’d the Master of our ship to let them cut away the foremast, which he was very unwilling to: But the Boat-swain protesting to him, that if he did not, the ship would founder, he consented; and when they had cut away the foremast, the main-mast stood so loose, and shook the ship so much, they were obliged to cut her away also, and make a clear deck.

  Any one may judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who was but a young sailor, and who had been in such a fright before at but a little. But if I can express at this distance the thoughts I had about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon account of my former convictions, and the having returned from them to the resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at death it self; and these added to the terror of the storm, put me into such a condition, that I can by no words describe it. But the worst was not come yet, the storm continued with such fury, that the seamen themselves acknowledged they had never known a worse. We had a good ship, but she was deep loaden, and wallowed in the sea, that the seamen every now and then cried out, she would founder. It was my advantage in one respect, that I did not know what they meant by founder, till I enquir’d. However, the storm was so violent, that I saw what is not often seen, the Master, the Boat-swain, and some others more sensible than the rest, at their prayers, and expecting every moment when the ship would go to the bottom. In the middle of the night, and under all the rest of our distresses, one of the men that had been down on purpose to see, cried out we had sprung a leak; another said there was four foot water in the hold. Then all hands were called to the pump. At that very word my heart, as I thought, died within me, and I fell backwards upon the side of my bed where I sat, into the cabin. However, the men roused me, and told me, that I that was able to do nothing before, was as well able to pump as another; at which I stirr’d up, and went to the pump and work’d very heartily. While this was doing, the Master seeing some light colliers, who not able to ride out the storm, were oblig’d to slip and run away to sea, and would come near us, ordered to fire a gun as a signal of distress. I who knew nothing what that meant, was so surprised, that I thought the ship had broke, or some dreadful thing had happen’d. In a word, I was so surprised, that I fell down in a swoon. As this was a time when every body had his own life to think of, no body minded me, or what was become of me; but another man stept up to the pump, and thrusting me aside with his foot, let me lye, thinking I had been dead; and it was a great while before I came to my self.

  We work’d on, but the water encreasing in the hold, it was apparent that the ship would founder, and tho’ the storm began to abate a little, yet as it was not possible she could swim till we might run into a port, so the Master continued firing guns for help; and a light ship who had rid it out just a head of us, ventured a boat out to help us. It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near us, but it was impossible for us to get on
board, or for the boat to lie near the ship side, till at last the men rowing very heartily, and venturing their lives to save ours, our men cast them a rope over the stern with a buoy to it, and then vered it out a great length, which they after great labour and hazard took hold of, and we haul’d them close under our stern and got all into their boat. It was to no purpose for them or us after we were in the boat to think of reaching to their own ship, so all agreed to let her drive, and only to pull her in towards shore as much as we could, and our Master promised them, that if the boat was stav’d upon shore he would make it good to their Master, so partly rowing and partly driving our boat went away to the norward sloaping towards the shore almost as far as Winterton Ness.10

  We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship but we saw her sink, and then I understood for the first time what was meant by a ship foundering in the sea; I must acknowledge I had hardly eyes to look up when the seamen told me she was sinking; for from that moment they rather put me into the boat than that I might be said to go in, my heart was as it were dead within me, partly with fright, partly with horror of mind and the thoughts of what was yet before me.

  While we were in this condition, the men yet labouring at the oar to bring the boat near the shore, we could see, when our boat mounting the waves, we were able to see the shore, a great many people running along the shore to assist us when we should come near, but we made but slow way towards the shore, nor were we able to reach the shore, till being past the light-house at Winterton, the shore falls off to the westward towards Cromer, and so the land broke off a little the violence of the wind: Here we got in, and tho’ not without much difficulty got all safe on shore, and walk’d afterwards on foot to Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men, we were used with great humanity, as well by the magistrates of the town, who assign’d us good quarters, as by particular merchants and owners of ships, and had money given us sufficient to carry us either to London or back to Hull, as we thought fit.