Van Heemskerck and Barents reach Ice Haven—The ship in the ice—The first crew to winter in the Arctic—The house the Dutch built—The bears—The foxes—Intense cold—Twelfth Eve rejoicings—Preparations for departure—Death of Barents—The boat voyage—Meeting with Rijp—Admiral Jacob Van Heemskerck—Carlsen at Ice Haven—Finds the house as described by De Veer—The relics at the Hague—Gardiner finds the powder-flask—Gundersen finds the translation of the voyage of Pet and Jackman—Second voyage of Hudson—His third voyage—De Vlamingh—Russian explorers.

We left Barents parting company with Rijp at Bear Island, Rijp bound northwards. Barents, taking his vessel eastwards, struck Novaya Zemlya at Loms Bay, near Cross Bay, and bearing north-eastwards reached the Orange Islands and rounded Cape Mauritius. Steering south he got down into Ice Haven, where at length, says De Veer, "the ice began to drive with such force that we were enclosed round about therewith, and yet we sought all the means we could to get out, but it was all in vain: and at that time we had like to have lost three men that were upon the ice to make way for the ship, if the ice had held the course it went; but as we drove back again, and the ice also whereon our men stood, they being nimble, as the ship drove by them, one of them caught hold of the beak head, another upon the shrouds, and the third upon the mainbrace that hung out behind, and so by great adventure by the hold they took they got into the ship again, for which they thanked God with all their hearts." The same evening, that of the 26th of August, 1596, they reached the west of Ice Haven—now known as Barents Bay—where they were forced to remain, being the first crew on record to spend a winter in the Arctic regions and survive to tell the story.

To begin with, the ice gathered round the ship and lifted her bow four feet out of the water. Endeavouring to right her by clearing the ice away, Barents was on his knees measuring the height she had to fall when the ice broke with "such a noise and so great a crack that they thought verily they were all cast away." As she lay upright again they tried in vain with crowbars and other tools to break off the piled-up ice, and next day in a heavy snow the pressure became such that the whole ship was borne up and so squeezed that "all that was both about and in it began to crack, so that it seemed to burst in a hundred pieces, which was most fearful both to see and hear, and made all the hair of our heads to rise upright with fear." The grip continuing, the vessel was driven up four or five feet and the rudder squeezed off, which was replaced by a new one, when she sank back into the water a few hours afterwards owing to the ice drifting clear for a while. Thus matters went on for a little time, the ship being alternately lifted and released.

On the 11th of September, as there was no hope of escape, it was decided to build a house wherein to spend the winter, and in seeking for a suitable position, a mass of driftwood—"trees, roots and all"—was discovered, "driven ashore from Tartaria, Muscovia, or elsewhere," for there were no trees growing on the land, "wherewith," says De Veer, "we were much comforted, being in good hope that God would show us some further favour; for that wood served us not only to build our house, but also to burn and serve us all the winter long; otherwise without all doubt we had died there miserably with extreme cold."

The timber was collected and piled up in heaps that it might not be hidden under the snow, and two sledges were made on which to drag it to the site of the house. This was heavy work in which all took part, four of them in turn remaining by the ship, there being thirteen men to each party, five to each sledge, with three to help and lift the wood behind "to make us draw the better and with more ease," and at the end of the first week of it the carpenter died, so that only sixteen were left. But the wood was brought along day after day, some to build with, some for fuel; and the house was built, the frost so hard at times that "as we put a nail into our mouths, as carpenters do, there would ice hang thereon when we took it out again and made the blood follow"; and when a great fire was made to soften the ground, in order that earth might be dug to shovel round the house, "it was all lost labour for the earth was so hard and frozen so deep that we could not thaw it, and it would have cost us too much wood."

The house was roofed with deals obtained by breaking up the lower deck of the fore part of the ship, and, to make it weather-tight, it was covered with a sail on which afterwards shingle was spread to keep it from being blown off; and the materials of the cabin yielded the wood for the door. Inside, the house was made as comfortable as possible, as shown in the illustration given in De Veer's book in 1598. Low shelves, with partitions between, along the side served for sleeping places; a cask on end with a square hole like a window in the upper half was frequently used as a bath; a striking clock and a time-glass marked the passing of the hours; the large fire in the centre with its frame and trivet and spit and copper pots and other kitchen utensils served for warmth and cooking; and over the fire hung a large lamp beneath the chimney, which terminated outside in a cask giving it the appearance of a crow's nest ashore.

While the house was building, and as long as the sun was above the horizon, there was much trouble with the bears, whose daily visits were always productive of excitement. On the 26th of October, for instance, the day after all the crew first slept in the house, when the men had loaded the last sledge and stood in the track-ropes ready to draw it to the house, Van Heemskerck caught sight of three coming towards them from behind the ship. The men jumped out of the track-ropes, and as fortunately two halberds lay upon the sledge, Van Heemskerck took one and De Veer the other, while the rest ran to the ship, "and as they ran one of them fell into a crevice in the ice, which grieved us much, for we thought the bears would have run unto him to devour him," but they made straight after the others instead. "Meantime we and the man that fell into the cleft of ice took our advantage and got into the ship on the other side; which the bears perceiving, they came fiercely towards us that had no arms to defend us withal but only the two halberds, gave them work to do by throwing billets of firewood and other things at them, and every time we threw they ran after them as a dog does at a stone that has been cast at him. Meantime we sent a man down into the caboose to strike fire and another to fetch pikes; but we could get no fire, and so we had no means to shoot"—their firearms being matchlocks. "At the last as the bears came fiercely upon us we struck one of them with a halberd on the snout, wherewith she gave back when she felt herself hurt and went away, which the other two, that were not so large as she, perceiving, ran away."

When the bears had gone and the long night set in, their place was taken by the white foxes, many of these being caught in traps and furnishing skins for clothes and flesh for meat—"not unlike that of the rabbit"—that was "as grateful as venison." The 19th of November was a great day. A chest of linen was opened and divided among the men for shirts, "for they had need of them." Next day they washed their shirts, having evidently made the new ones in a hurry, and, says De Veer, "it was so cold that when we had washed and wrung them they presently froze so stiff (out of the warm water) that although we laid them by a great fire the side that lay next the fire thawed, but the other side was hard frozen, so that we should sooner have torn them in sunder than have opened them, whereby we were forced to put them into the boiling water again to thaw them, it was so exceeding cold."

On the 3rd of December and the two following days it was so cold that as the men lay in their bunks they could hear the ice cracking in the sea two miles away, and thought that icebergs were breaking on each other; and as they had not so great a fire as usual owing to the smoke "it froze so sore within the house that the walls and the roof thereof were frozen two fingers thick with ice, even in the bunks in which we lay. All those three days while we could not go out by reason of the foul weather we set up the sandglass of twelve hours, and when it was run out we set it up again, still watching it lest we should miss our time. For the cold was so great that our clock was frozen and would not go, although we hung more weight on it than before."

The snow fell until it was so deep round the house that on Christmas Day they heard foxes running over the roof; and the last day of the year was so cold that "the fire almost cast no heat, for as we put our feet to the fire we burnt our hose before we could feel the heat, so that we had work enough to do to patch our hose." On the 4th of January, "to know where the wind blew we thrust a half pike out of the chimney with a little cloth or feather upon it; but we had to look at it immediately the wind caught it, for as soon as we thrust it out it was frozen as hard as a piece of wood and could not go about or stir with the wind, so that we said to one another how fearfully cold it must be out of doors."

Next day, being Twelfth Eve, on which foreigners, according to the old practice, hold the festivities now customary in England on the following day, the men asked Van Heemskerck that they might enjoy themselves, "and so that night we made merry and drank to the three kings. And therewith we had two pounds of meal, which we had taken to make paste for the cartridges wherewith, of which we now made pancakes with oil, and to every man a white biscuit, which we sopped in wine. And so supposing that we were in our own country and amongst our friends it comforted us as well as if we had made a great banquet in our own house. And we also distributed tickets, and our gunner was king of Nova Zembla, which is at least eight hundred miles long and lieth between two seas."

In time the sun reappeared—as also the bears—and the rigours of the winter relaxing, the men, on the 9th of May, applied to Barents asking him to speak to Van Heemskerck with a view to preparing for departure. This, after two other appeals, he did on the 15th of May, Van Heemskerck's answer being that, if the ship were not free by the end of the month, he would get ready to go away in the boats. The two boats, or, to be exact, the boat and the herring skute, were then repaired and made suitable for a long sea voyage, and on the 13th of June were in proper condition with all their stores ready. Then Van Heemskerck, "seeing that it was open water and a good west wind, came back to the house again, and there he spake unto Willem Barents (that had been long sick) and showed him that he thought it good (seeing it was a fit time) to go from thence, and they then resolved jointly with the ship's company to take the boat and the skute down to the water side, and in the name of God to begin our voyage to sail from Nova Zembla. Then Willem Barents wrote a letter, which he put into a powder flask and hanged it up in the chimney, showing how we came out of Holland to sail to the kingdom of China, and what had happened to us." Then Barents was taken down to the shore on a sledge and put into one boat, the other sick man, Andriesz, being placed in the other, and "with a west-north-west wind and an indifferent open water" they set sail on a voyage of over fifteen hundred miles among the ice, over the ice, and through the sea.

Barents, though they little suspected it, had but a few days to live. As they passed the northernmost cape of Novaya Zemlya, "Gerrit," he said to De Veer, "if we are near the Ice Point, just lift me up again. I must see that point once more." They were amongst the ice floes again; soon they had to make fast to one; and then they became shut in and forced to stay there. Next day their only means of safety lay in hauling their boats up on to a floe, taking the sick men out on to the ice and putting the clothes and other things under them; but after mending the boats, which had been much bruised and crushed, they drifted into a little open water and got afloat. On the 20th of June, about eight in the morning it became evident that Andriesz was nearing his end. "Methinks," said Barents, in the other boat, when he heard of it, "with me too it will not last long." But still his companions did not realise how ill he was, and talked on unconcernedly. Then he looked at the little chart which De Veer had made of the voyage. Putting it down, he said, "Gerrit, give me something to drink." And no sooner did he drink than he suddenly died. Thus passed away their chief guide and only pilot, than whom none better ever sailed the northern seas.

Working their way down the west coast of the long island, putting in every now and then in search of birds and eggs, constantly in peril from the floating ice and the bears, they slowly came south. When passing Admiralty Peninsula they had to deal with a danger of their own causing. They sighted about two hundred walruses upon one of the floes. Sailing close to them they drove them off, "which," says De Veer, "had almost cost us dear, for they, being mighty strong sea monsters, swam towards us round about our boats with a great noise as if they would have devoured us; but we escaped from them by reason that we had a good gale of wind, yet it was not wisely done of us to waken sleeping wolves."

Day by day De Veer tells the story of that adventurous voyage, with its long succession of dangers and disappointments, until they reached the mainland and sent the Lapland messenger to Kola, who returned with a letter from Jan Corneliszoon Rijp, who at first they could not believe was the old friend from whom they had parted at Bear Island; and more briefly he continues the story until Amsterdam was reached on the 1st of November, when the survivors, in the same clothes they wore in their winter quarters, fur caps and white fox-skins, walked up to the house of Pieter Hasselaer to report themselves on arrival and received the hearty welcome they deserved.

Though Van Heemskerck had failed to make the passage to the east by way of the north, he was perhaps destined for greater fame on the far less rigorous route. Like Nelson he went on an Arctic expedition that failed, and then secured a place in history by a sea-fight in Spanish waters, for which his countrymen will never forget him. He it was who as Vice-Admiral of Holland fought the Spanish fleet at Gibraltar in the decisive battle of the 25th of April, 1607, in which with his twenty-six vessels he attacked Juan Alvarez Davila's twenty ships and ten galleons. Early in the struggle he had his leg swept off by a cannon shot, but he remained on deck till he died, gaining the complete victory which rendered his countrymen free from hindrance on the road to the Indies round the Cape of Good Hope, of which for so many years they made such profitable use. It is customary to give all the credit of the Arctic voyage to Barents on the ground that his captain was no sailor, but Holland knows no better sailor than Jacob Van Heemskerck of Gibraltar Bay.

On the 9th of September, 1871, Captain Elling Carlsen, sailing in the Barents Sea, which he had entered round Icy Cape, landed in Ice Haven and found the house just as De Veer had described it. There it had stood in cold storage for 274 years, never having been entered by human foot since Van Heemskerck had shut the door. The bunks, the table, the bath, the clock, in short everything, all in order, as the orderly Dutchmen had left it. Never did a voyage book receive such ample verification; never did the description of an island home stand the test better.

Carlsen, to begin with, knew nothing of De Veer or Barents, but he set to work in a conscientious way and recorded the results like a true archÆologist. "Thursday, 14th," he wrote in his log, "Calm with clear sky. Four o'clock in the morning we went ashore further to investigate the wintering place. On digging we found again several objects, such as drumsticks, a hilt of a sword, and spears. Altogether it seemed that the people had been equipped in a warlike manner, but nothing was found which could indicate the presence of human remains. On the beach we found pieces of wood which had formerly belonged to some part of a ship, for which reason I believe that a vessel has been wrecked there, the crew of which built the house with the materials of the wreck and afterwards betook themselves to boats."

Bringing away a very large number of articles, he resumed his voyage and landed at Hammerfest, where Mr. E. C. Lister Kay, who happened to be there on a yachting trip, bought them, thinking they would be repurchased from him, at the price he gave, for one of our own museums. In this he was disappointed, and the collection was taken down to his house in Dorsetshire, where Count Bylandt, the Dutch Ambassador, happening to hear of it, called and bought it for his Government, who placed it at the Hague in a room, the exact imitation of that in Novaya Zemlya.

In July, 1876, Mr. Charles Gardiner, another English yachtsman, when on a cruise in the Glow-worm in Barents Sea, made a call at the house and brought away many other relics, which he presented to the Dutch, to be added to those at the Hague; and among them was the powder-flask hung in the chimney, containing the paper mentioned by De Veer. The previous August Captain Gundersen had been there in the Norwegian schooner Regina. In one of the chests he found two charts and what he described as Barents's Journal. The journal proved to be a manuscript Dutch translation of the story of the voyage in 1580 of Arthur Pet and Charles Jackman.

In 1608, eleven years after Barents died, Henry Hudson, in the Muscovy Company's service, was sent to China by the north-east. He sailed on the 22nd of April from St. Katharine's, near the Tower of London, and on the 3rd of June passed the North Cape on his way to Novaya Zemlya, which he reached near Cape Britwin twenty-three days afterwards. For some considerable distance he had skirted the ice pack, vainly endeavouring to get through to the northward and enter the Kara Sea round the Orange Islands.

This being impracticable he ranged southwards looking for a passage through at Kostin Shar, which in the Dutch map he had with him was marked as a strait and proved to be a bay. Had he been able to go a little further north than Cape Britwin he might have found that Matyushin Shar, like a rift in the rocks, divides the long island in half, though at that early season the ice would have probably been blocking it. From Kostin or thereabouts he departed for home, his voyage failing almost at the outset, owing to his being two months too early.

While off the coast he sent his boat ashore several times. "Generally," he says, "all the land of Nova Zembla that we have yet seen is to a man's eye a pleasant land; much main high land with no snow on it, looking in some places green, and deer feeding thereon; and the hills are partly covered with snow and partly bare"—rather a different picture from that given by De Veer of what it was like in the winter. De Veer, too, had committed himself to the statement that there were no deer in the country, but here were Hudson's men frequently coming upon their traces, and on the 2nd of July reporting that they had seen "a herd of white deer, ten in a company," bringing on board with them a white lock of deer's hair in proof thereof.

On his return Hudson left the service of the Muscovy Company. He went to Holland, and, early in April, 1609, was sent out by the Amsterdam Chamber of the Dutch East India Company. On the 5th of May he rounded the North Cape, making for Novaya Zemlya, and a few days afterwards reached the ice. Here, according to Dutch accounts, his men mutinied, but what happened during the trouble is not recorded. Whether it was really owing to a mutiny, or, as is by no means improbable, to secret instructions received at his departure, Hudson, on the 14th, made sail for the North Cape, passed it on the 19th, when he observed a spot on the sun, and then went off westwards to Newfoundland, making direct apparently for the mouth of the river now bearing his name, which was discovered by Verrazano in March, 1524, and surveyed by Gomez in the following year, and was at the time of Hudson's visit British territory.

The reason for this astonishing change of route was, perhaps, that on some of the charts of the period, as on Michael Lock's planisphere, this river, the Rio de Gamas or Rio Grande of the Spaniards, was made to communicate with what seems to be intended for Lake Ontario, and this with the other lakes to the westward was widened out into the waterway to the South Sea. Thus Hudson drops out of our story at his first mutiny, for he did not cross the Arctic Circle on his fourth voyage, when his second mutiny ended his career in the bay that bears his name, which, like the river and the strait, was indicated on the maps years before he went there.

In 1664 Willem de Vlamingh, the Dutch navigator, or—to be cautious—the namesake of the Dutch navigator, who thirty-one years afterwards found Dirk Hartog's plate and named Swan River in West Australia after the black swans, was in these regions and rounded Novaya Zemlya into the Kara Sea, reaching so far north that if his recorded latitude be correct he must have sighted the Franz Josef archipelago, and, contrary to the tendency of Arctic explorers, mistaken land for a bank of mist or a group of icebergs. After him neither Dutch nor English delay us, the opening up of this continuation of the Urals being left to the Russians, who found it first and named it—Novaya Zemlya meaning simply New Land.

For years it was left to the Samoyeds and the walrus hunters, whose persistent reports of deposits of silver in its cliffs led to Loschkin's making his way round it and spending two winters on its east coast. In 1768 Rosmysslof, also on silver bent, wintered in Matyushin Shar, that wonderful waterway, ninety fathoms deep, bounded by high hills and precipitous cliffs, winding so sharply that ships have been into it for a dozen miles or so and seeing no passage ahead have come out again to seek it elsewhere. In 1807 came Pospeloff, with Ludlow the mining engineer, to settle the silver question once for all, and settle it they did by showing that everywhere the so-called silver was either talc or mica, and naming Silver Bay ironically in memory thereof. Fourteen years afterwards LÜtke surveyed the west coast, continuing during the next three summers; and in 1832 Pachtussoff arrived to undergo in the course of his really admirable work the hardships and privations of which he died.