The further we advanced to the northward,the thicker became the fog and more intense the cold (two degrees centig,below zero);and snow whirled round in squalls of wind,and fell in large flakes on the deck.The ice began to present a new aspect,and to assume those fantastic and terrible forms and colours,which painters have made familiar to us.At one time it assumed the appearance of mountain-peaks covered with snow,furrowed with valleys of green and blue;more frequently they appeared like a wide flat plateau,as high as the ship's deck,against which the sea rolled with fury,hollowing its edges into gulfs,or breaking them into perpendicular cliffs or caverns,into which the sea rushed in clouds of foam.
We often passed close by a herd of seals,which-stretched on these floating islands,followed the ship with a stupid and puzzled look.We were forcibly struck with the contrast between the fictitious world in which we lived on board the ship,and the terrible realities of nature that surrounded us.Lounging in an elegant saloon,at the corner of a clear and sparkling fire,amidst a thousand objects of the arts and luxuries of home,we might have believed that we had not changed our residence,or our habits,or our enjoyments.One of Strauss's waltzes,or Schubert's melodies--played on the piano by the band-master--completed the illusion;and yet we had only to rub off the thin incrustation of frozen vapour that covered the panes of the windows,to look out upon the gigantic and terrible forms of the icebergs dashed against each other by a black and broken sea,and the whole panorama of Polar nature,its awful risks,and its sinister splendours.
Meanwhile,we progressed but very slowly.On the 10th of July we were still far from the meridian of Jan Mayen,when we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by a fog,and at the bottom of one of the bays formed by the field ice.We tacked immediately,and put the ship about,but the wind had accumulated the ice behind us.At a distance the circle that enclosed us seemed compact and without egress.We considered this as the most critical moment of our expedition.Having tried this icy barrier at several points,we found a narrow and tortuous channel,into which we ventured;and it was not till after an hour of anxieties that we got a view of the open sea,and of a passage into it.From this moment we were able to coast along the Banquise without interruption.
On the 11th of July at 6A.M.we reached,at last,the meridian of Jan Mayen,at about eighteen leagues'distance [Footnote:I think there must be some mistake here;when we parted company with the "Reine Hortense,"we were still upwards of 100miles distant from the southern extremity of Jan Mayen.]from the southern part of that island,but we saw the ice-field stretching out before us as far as the eye could reach;hence it became evident that Jan Mayen was blocked up by the ice,at least along its south coast.To ascertain whether it might still be accessible from the north,it would have been necessary to have attempted a circuit to the eastward,the possible extent of which could not be estimated;moreover,we had consumed half our coals,and had lost all hope of being rejoined by the 'Saxon.'Thus forced to give up any further attempts in that direction,Commodore de la Ronciere,having got the ship clear of the floating ice,took a W.S.W.course,in the direction of Reykjavik.
The instant the 'Reine Hortense'assumed this new course,a telegraphic signal--as had been previously arranged--acquainted Lord Dufferin with our determinations.Almost immediately,the young Lord sent on board us a tin box,with two letters,one for his mother,and one for our commander.In the latter he stated that--finding himself clear of the ice,and master of his own movements--he preferred continuing his voyage alone,uncertain whether he should at once push for Norway,or return to Scotland.
[Footnote:I was purposely vague as to my plans,lest you might learn we still intended to go on.]The two ropes that united the vessels were then cast off,a farewell hurrah was given,and in a moment the English schooner was lost in the fog.
Our return to Reykjavik afforded no incident worth notice;the 'Reine Hortense,'keeping her course outside the ice,encountered no impediment,except from the intense fogs,which forced her--from the impossibility of ascertaining her position--to lie to,and anchor off the cape during part of the day and night of the 13th.
On the morning of the 14th,as we were getting out at the Dyre Fiord,where we had anchored,we met--to our great astonishment--the 'Cocyte'proceeding northward.
Her commander,Sonnart,informed us that on the evening of the 12th,the 'Saxon'--in consequence of the injuries she had received,had been forced back to Reykjavik.She had hardly reached the ice on the 9th,when she came into collision with it;five of her timbers had been stove in,and an enormous leak had followed.Becoming water-logged,she was run ashore,the first tine at Onundarfiord,and again in Reykjavik roads,whither she had been brought with the greatest difficulty."
