Woodes Rogers rescues the real-life Robinson Crusoe
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ROBINSON CRUSOE, the hero of Daniel Defoe’s 1719 novel, demonstrated the innate ability of a well-heeled Englishman to re-create society from scratch, if circumstances required, and to dominate his environment. The real-life drama that inspired this fiction, however, seemed to hint that such a society was a mixed blessing.
During the second decade of the 18th century, all Britain was abuzz over the story of Alexander Selkirk, a Scottish sailor who had been rescued after more than four years of exile on an uninhabited island in the South Pacific. Among those whose imaginations were stirred by the accounts of Selkirk’s adventure was the pamphleteer and journalist Daniel Defoe, who found in the prodigal Scot the inspiration for his first novel, which he ultimately published under the title The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.
Defoe’s work of fiction became a great success and even spawned two early examples of that modern-day phenomenon, the sequel. But while Robinson Crusoe thus became, and remains, a wellknown name, Alexander Selkirk quickly faded from memory. And from all evidence, he probably preferred it that way.
Alexander was the son of a cobbler, John Selkirk, who had set up business in Largo, Fife. John apparently had no greater hope for his son than that he should follow in his own path and become a shoemaker, but Alexander exhibited a spirited, volatile temperament that could never be satisfied with such a vocation. Instead, he followed his six brothers into a life on the sea. But whereas his brothers were content to become fishermen, Alexander joined a privateering expedition heading for the South Seas. It included two ships captained by William Dampier and Charles Pickering.
In school, Alexander had shown skill in mathematics and navigation and seems to have impressed his mentors. Those credentials won him a spot as first mate aboard the 16-gun Cinque Ports, the privateer commanded by Dampier. Captain Dampier himself was well known from previous expeditions that had provided the material for a book that he titled A New Voyage Round the World. He proved himself a better storyteller than seaman, however, and while the tales of his early exploits continued to earn him promotions and new opportunities, his crews showed him little respect. Of Captain Pickering, expedition accounts say almost nothing, except that he died and was replaced by Thomas Stradling, who was as unpopular among the crews as Dampier.
The privateers made several unsuccessful attempts to capture Spanish merchant ships. The British crews, whose earnings depended on the value of the goods plundered from the Spanish, grew increasingly unhappy. Worse, heavy seas and storms battered Cinque Ports as it rounded Cape Horn, raising concerns about its seaworthiness.
In September 1704, Dampier put in at Mas a Tierra, a small island in the Juan Fernandez chain off the Pacific coast of South America. The island’s location made it a natural place of refuge for ships in need of rest and repair after weathering the rough seas of the cape. Once ashore, Selkirk became convinced that Cinque Ports was in serious trouble and should not depart until extensive repairs could be made. Dampier, eager to turn a profit by finding and capturing some rich Spanish cargoes, refused to delay for the needed repairs.
Selkirk insisted he would not sail on the crippled ship and asked to be left behind on Mas a Tierra with his belongings. He seems to have thought that the crew would rally around him, and thereby force Dampier to allow them to repair their ship, regardless of how long it might take. Instead, Dampier told him to gather his firelock, a hatchet and knife, some bedding, a kettle, his Bible and a few other meager possessions, and had him deposited on the shore.
Selkirk probably felt frightened and a little foolish standing alone on the shore of Mas a Tierra, but the outlook was not particularly bleak. Indeed, had he known that Cinque Ports would sink soon after leaving the island, just as he had feared, with the loss of most of its crew, he certainly would not have regretted his choice.
Unlike the archetypical deserted island of most fiction, Mas a Tierra was not uncharted, and far from uninhabitable. Ships stopped there with a fair degree of regularity, as Cinque Ports had done, and it was only a matter of time until Selkirk would be rescued. In the meantime, resources could have been worse. Years before, Spanish settlers had stayed on the island and left behind a herd of goats and a long-untended but still-producing vegetable garden. Springs provided fresh water.
Not unreasonably hoping that his stay might last only a few days, Selkirk at first passed time simply wandering the beaches to see what he might find, constantly scanning the horizon for signs of passing ships. The climate pleased him, and as time wore on he grew more fond of it, noting that harsh storms were rare and that only two months of the year were uncomfortably chilly.
Less pleasantly, the island was home to hordes of rats, apparently the descendants of refugees from the several ships that had preceded Cinque Ports to Mas a Tierra. The rats proved to be a plague of biblical proportions, tormenting Selkirk while he slept. Eventually, he kept them at bay by allying himself with another colony of castoffs from previous vessels—cats. He lured them to him with goat meat, and in return they kept the rats at a respectful distance.
Though food and physical comfort may not have presented any long-term concerns, other aspects of Selkirk’s longer-than-anticipated seclusion at first wore more heavily upon him. His eventual rescuer, the famous privateer Woodes Rogers, later recounted the story.
The Supports of his Body were easily attained, but the eager Longings for seeing again the Face of Man during the Interval of craving bodily Appetites, were hardly supportable. He grew dejected, languid, and melancholy, scarce able to refrain from doing himself Violence, till by Degrees, by the Force of Reason, and frequent reading of the Scriptures, and turning his Thoughts upon the Study of Navigation, after the Space of eighteen Months, he grew thoroughly reconciled to his Condition.
In fact, he eventually began to positively delight in his situation. As soon as it became apparent that his stay might be longer than he hoped, Selkirk fashioned shelters to live in.
He built two Hutts with Piemento Trees, cover’d them with long Grass, and lin’d them with the Skins of Goats, which he kill’d with his Gun as he wanted, so long as his Powder lasted….In the lesser Hutt, at some distance from the other, he dress’d his Victuals, and in the larger he slept, and employ’d himself in reading, singing Psalms, and praying; so that he said he was a better Christian while in this Solitude than ever he was before, or than, he was afraid, he should ever be again.
Twice during the many months Selkirk lived on the island, ships landed at Mas a Tierra, and he approached them in expectation of being rescued.
As he went to view them, he found ’em to be Spaniards, and retir’d from ’em; upon which they shot at him. Had they been French, he would have submitted; but chose to risque his dying alone on the Island, rather than fall into the hands of the Spaniards in these parts, because he apprehended they would murder him, or make a Slave of him in the Mines.
By this time, Selkirk would not have been an easy prey to capture. His sparse but healthy diet, coupled with the hard daily exercise of hunting his own food, made him extremely fit and very fast. When his gunpowder ran out, he learned to catch goats for food by running them down on foot.
When his Clothes wore out, he made himself a Coat and Cap of Goat-Skins, which he stitch’d together with little Thongs of the same, that he cut with his Knife. He had no other Needle but a Nail; and when his Knife was wore to the back, he made others as well as he could of some Iron Hoops that were left ashore, which he beat thin and ground upon Stones. Having some Linen Cloth by him, he sow’d himself Shirts with a Nail, and stitch’d ’em with the Worsted of his old Stockings, which he pull’d out on purpose.
It was on February 2, 1709, that Duke, an English vessel commanded by Woodes Rogers, dropped anchor off Selkirk’s island. Duke’s pilot, coincidentally, was Captain Dampier, the man who had left Selkirk behind when Cinque Ports had sailed four years earlier. Apparently neither man bore any animosity toward the other. Dampier informed Rogers that Selkirk had been the best sailor among his former crew, and on this recommendation, Rogers appointed him to command a captured Spanish galleon.
Rogers’ account of his voyage reveals the wonder he felt at hearing the Scot’s story and seeing the results that his four years of isolation had produced in Selkirk himself.
At his first coming on board us, he had so much forgot his Language for want of Use, that we could scarce understand him, for he seem’d to speak his words by halves We offer’d him a Dram, but he would not touch it, having drank nothing but Water since his being there, and `twas some time before he could relish our Victuals.
His Behaviour afterwards gives me reason to believe the Account he gave me how he spent his time, and bore up under such an Afliction, in which nothing but the Divine Providence could have supported any Man…. We may perceive by this Story the Truth of the Maxim, That Necessity is the Mother of Invention, since he found means to supply his Wants in a very natural manner, so as to maintain his Life, tho not so conveniently, yet as effectually as we are able to do with the help of all our Arts and Society.
After serving a while longer with Rogers, and participating in the capture of another Spanish ship, for which he earned £800 in prize money, Selkirk returned to England to a stunned family and the curiosity of many.
Uncomfortable among the world he had grown unaccustomed to, Selkirk chose to live in a cave, as he once had on his island. In a strange reversal of his experience during his ®rst months on Mas a Tierra, Selkirk eventually adapted to his new civilized surroundings, but with less happy results than he had enjoyed in the South Seas. Before long, however, he had returned to a life much like the one he had pursued prior to his fateful voyage.
The essayist Richard Steele had met Selkirk upon his return to England, and following the castaway’s reassimilation into society, couldn’t help seeing, as Woodes Rogers had earlier, a moral lesson in Selkirk’s experience:
The Man frequently bewailed his Return to the World, which could not, he said, with all its Enjoyments, restore him to the Tranquility of his Solitude….This plain Man’s Story is a memorable Example, that he is happiest who confines his Wants to natural Necessities; and he that goes further in his Desires, increases his Wants in Proportion to his Acquisitions; or to use his own Expression, “I am now worth 800 Pounds, but shall never be so happy, as when I was not worth a Farthing.”
The story of Alexander Selkirk’s shipwrecked existence fascinated many, including the poet William Cowper (see related story, P. 28), who was inspired to compose verse about the musings of a castaway. In keeping with an 18th- and 19th-century genre, Cowper wrote his poem in the “voice” of Selkirk.
VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK
BY WILLIAM COWPER
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.
I am out of humanity’s reach.
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech;
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
Society, friendship, and love
Divinely bestow’d upon man,
Oh had I the wings of a dove
How soon would I taste you again!
…………………
When I think of my own native land
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There is mercy in every place;
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace
And reconciles man to his lot.
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