THE SAILOR MISSIONARY OF TIERRA DEL FUEGO
The Neglected Continent "—The despised Fuegian—Darwin's testimony Captain Allen Gardiner—South American Missionary Society—A sly Patagonian—An exploring expedition—The final enterprise—At Banner Cove—How the tragedy came about—The cache in the rocks—Spaniard Harbor—The end—Search and discovery—The diary—Victory through death.
IF from the point of view of Christian evangelization South America has justly been called "The Neglected Continent," there is no part of it to which until modern times the description more fitly applied than that southern portion of the mainland called Patagonia, together with the large archipelago of closely huddled islands which projects still farther towards the Antarctic Ocean, and is known by the rather inappropriate name of Tierra del Fuego, or " Land of Fire."
The inaccessibility and desolation of the whole region, and the ferocious and almost inhuman character of the tribes encountered by vessels passing through the Straits of Magellan, which divide Fuegia from the mainland, for long made, any thoughts of carrying the Christian Gospel to this part of the heathen world seem absolutely visionary. The Fuegians in particular were looked upon as degraded almost beyond the hope of recovery. Travelers dwelt on their stunted figures, their repulsive faces, their low grade of intelligence, their apparent lack of natural affection, as shown by the readiness of parents to throw their children overboard in a storm in order to lighten a canoe, or of children to eat their own parents when they had grown old and useless. Darwin, the most careful of observers, spent some time in the Magellan Straits in the course of his famous voyage in the Beagle, and he records the conviction that "in this extreme part of South America man exists in a lower state of improvement than in any other part of the world." "Viewing such men," he says on another page of his Journal, "one can hardly make oneself believe that they are fellow-creatures and inhabitants of the same world." Of their speech he writes: "The language of these people, according to our notions, scarcely deserves to be called articulate. Captain Cook has compared it to a man clearing his throat, but certainly no European ever cleared his throat with so many hoarse, guttural, and clicking sounds.”
And yet, through the enterprise begun and inspired by that heroic man of whom we have now to tell, the almost unpronounceable sounds of the Fuegian speech have been reduced to writing and made to convey the story of the Gospels, while the Fuegians themselves have been changed from murderous cannibals and thieves into peaceful, honest, and industrious members of a Christian community. When Darwin learned, on the unimpeachable authority of a British admiral, of the extraordinary difference which a few years had made in the habits of these people, whom he had once been inclined to regard as possibly furnishing a missing link between the monkey and the man, he confessed his astonishment. "I could not have believed," he wrote, "that all the missionaries in the world could ever have made the Fuegians honest," and he went on to speak of this transformation as one of the wonders of history. More than this. Though not by any means a professing Christian, nor an advocate in general of Christian missions, he became from that time a regular subscriber to the funds of the society with whose founder we are at present concerned—"about as emphatic an answer to the detractors of missions," the Spectator once remarked, "as can well be imagined.”
Allen Gardiner was an ex-captain of the British Navy. As a midshipman he had distinguished himself during a fierce engagement in 1814 between his ship, the Phœbe, and an American man-of-war, in which the British vessel eras victorious; and he had risen step by step to the position of commander. When about forty years of age, however, he determined to abandon his chosen profession and devote the rest of his life to work among the heathen, by whose wretched condition he had been deeply impressed as a Christian man in the course of his many voyages in all parts of the world.
He turned first of all to South Africa, and had some interesting experiences among the subjects of Dingaan, the redoubtable Zulu chief. But war broke out between the Zulus and the Boers, and he was forced to leave the country. Several years thereafter were spent in the search for a suitable field of operations among the most neglected peoples of the world. We find him for a time on the coast of New Guinea, where, if he had not been thwarted by the Dutch officials, who had not the slightest sympathy with his aims, and declared that he might as well try to instruct monkeys as the natives of Papua, he might have largely anticipated the splendid work which was afterwards accomplished by the heroic "Tamate.”
But it was in the Western, not in the Eastern, Hemisphere that the great work of his life was to lie, and it was towards South America in particular that his steps were now guided. He was not drawn, however, in the first instance towards the Straits of Magellan, but to the brave Araucanian tribes of the Pampas and the Cordilleras. Two or three years were spent in toilsome and dangerous journeys through bristling forests and swampy jungles, and over well-nigh impassable mountains, where precipices yawned on one hand, while on the other avalanches of snow or rock threatened to hurl the traveler to destruction. But though he met with many kindnesses from the natives, he found wherever he went that the Roman friars and priests poisoned the minds of the ignorant people against him and prevented him from being allowed to settle down among them. And so he had to go forth again in search of his proper sphere.
It was at this stage that he began to think of that dreary and desolate region in the neighborhood of Cape Horn, which as a sailor he had more than once visited, and with which in the history of modern missions his name will forever be associated. How to get there was his first difficulty, and it was a difficulty which only an experienced and skilful seaman could have overcome. He chartered a crazy old schooner, the owners of which regarded her as no longer fit to go to sea, and though still further hampered by a drunken and troublesome crew, succeeded in reaching the Straits of Magellan in March, 1842. He had provided himself with a few stores, and his plan was to settle on one or other of the islands and try to win the confidence of the inhabitants. How difficult this task would be he soon discovered. Wherever he landed, whether on the islands or on the Patagonian coast, the Indians showed themselves so unfriendly that he realized the impossibility of making any headway without some help and some more adequate equipment. He resolved accordingly to return to England without delay, and try to persuade one or other of the great missionary societies to take Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego under its care.
Unfortunately not one of the existing societies was in a position at that time to undertake any fresh responsibilities. But Gardiner, nothing daunted, next made his appeal to the Christian public, and succeeded at last in originating on a very humble scale what is now known as the South American Missionary Society. He undertook to labor, as he had always done before, at his own expense, but the Society furnished him with an assistant in the shape of a catechist named Mr. Hunt.
Embarking in a brig called the Rosalie, which was to pass through the Magellan Straits, these two devoted men were landed with their stores about three months after on the south coast of Patagonia, and there left to their own devices. For a time they could see nothing of any natives, though they lighted fires in the hope of attracting notice. Meanwhile they set to work to build huts in which to shelter themselves; and shortly after they had completed this task received some troublesome visitors in the persons of a chief whose name was Wissale, his wives and children, and a party of followers. Wissale, who had picked up a few words of English from passing ships, combined unbounded greed with a good deal of slyness. He soon began to make matters exceedingly uncomfortable for the two Englishmen. His intention apparently was to force his company upon them, especially at meal times, and compel them to put their scanty stores at his disposal. He came into the hut attended by his patriarchal family, and placing one child in Captain Gardiner's arms said, "This your son Hontechi"; while he handed another to Mr. Hunt with the remark, "hitter Hunt, this your son Lux." From greed and impudence he gradually passed to threats of violence, and it was speedily evident to the two unfortunate philanthropists, not only that their provisions would soon be eaten up, but that in the mood of Wissale and his men their lives were hanging by a very slender thread. In this state of matters a passing ship bound for Valparaiso seemed to be providentially sent. Captain Gardiner felt that he had no alternative but to confess himself defeated, and once more to return to England.
The members of the Patagonian Society, as the South American Society was originally called, were much discouraged. The leader of their forlorn hope, however, never for a moment lost heart. "Hope deferred, not lost," is now the Society's motto: and the faith embodied in these words was the faith by which Gardiner lived. In the meantime he volunteered to see whether anything could be done among the Indians of Bolivia, and flung himself into this new departure with characteristic energy, until one of those domestic revolutions which are so common in the history of South American republics drove him out of the country, and made him feel once again that Tierra del Fuego was his Macedonia which was calling to him for help.
On this occasion, having raised the necessary funds by his own exertions, he persuaded the Society to allow him to take out a party of four sailors and a ship's carpenter. He intended the expedition to be in a measure one of exploration, the special purpose being to see whether a suitable base of operations could not be secured, and what would be the best method of reaching the scattered tribes of the archipelago. Owing to his former connection with the Navy he had some influence at headquarters, and by this means one of Her Majesty's ships, the Clymenc, which was about to sail for Peru, was placed at his disposal.
The Clymene reached Magellan Straits at a time when a hurricane of wind was blowing, accompanied by violent storms of sleet and hail; but after suffering severely from exposure to the inclement weather, Captain Gardiner was able to select a spot for his proposed station in a cove to which he gave the name of "Banner Cove" (with reference to Psa. 60:44Thou hast given a banner to them that fear thee, that it may be displayed because of the truth. Selah. (Psalm 60:4)). The friendly warship, however, had not yet proceeded on her voyage when a band of natives came down on the little party encamped on the shore in so hostile and threatening an attitude that Gardiner felt that he must decide immediately whether it would be right to remain in this situation without any possible means of escape in the event of an attack. He had only a few hours in which to make up his mind, and the conclusion he came to was that he had no right to run the risk of sacrificing the lives of his five companions. He now began to realize that the only way in which he could hope to evangelize Fuegia was by having a vessel of his own, on board of which he might live when necessary, and be free at the same time to move about among the islands. Accordingly, he re-embarked with his party on the Clymene, and continued his voyage to Peru, from which he made his way homeward via Panama and the West Indies.
Though his new idea filled him with fresh enthusiasm, his enthusiasm was not widely shared. At this we can hardly wonder. There are not many persons who possess a hero's indomitable courage together with the perseverance of Bruce's spider. Some of the Captain's best friends advised him to give the whole thing up. "Only with my life," was his reply. Finding so little prospect of help in England, he went over to Germany and tried to enlist the sympathies of the Moravian Brethren; but though deeply impressed by the man and his story, and very anxious to do what they could, they were obliged to abandon the thought of giving him any practical aid. He next visited Scotland, and laid his plans before the mission boards of the three great Presbyterian Churches, but none of them felt free to plunge into a new and difficult undertaking. At this juncture, just when the prospects were most unpromising, a lady in Cheltenham came forward with a munificent donation, while at the same time several exceedingly suitable offers of personal service were received by the Society. The result was that a party of seven was made up which included, besides Captain Gardiner himself, Mr. Williams, a surgeon; Mr. Maidment, a Sunday-school teacher; three Cornish fishermen, and the ship's carpenter who had taken part in the previous expedition. Further, in accordance with the leader's plans, two strong double-decked launches were provided, either of which could furnish sleeping accommodation for the whole party.
Having taken passage from Liverpool in the Ocean Queen, Captain Gardiner and his companions with their stores and boats were landed in Banner Cove on December 17th, 1850. Writing by the Ocean Queen, which left next day for California, Gardiner says, in the last letter which his friends in England were ever to receive: "Nothing can exceed the cheerful endurance and unanimity of the whole party. I feel that the Lord is with us, and cannot doubt that He will own and bless the work which He has permitted us to begin.”
From that point all communication with the outer world absolutely ceased. From the hour when they stood in their two launches, the Pioneer and the Speedwell, waving their last farewells to the departing ship, those seven brave men were never seen by friendly eyes in life again. It was in the awful loneliness and desolation of those barren islands and bleak southern seas that the tragedy was enacted of which we have now to tell.
When the party landed they were provided with necessaries for only half a year, the arrangement being that early in 1851 supplies for the other six months should be dispatched from England. Early in January the Society began to make inquiries about a vessel, but to their dismay not one could be got to undertake the commission. From every quarter to which they applied the answer came, "No vessel would risk her insurance by attempting to land so small a freight as your stores in such a place as Tierra del Fuego." Matters were now growing very serious, for ocean telegraphs were still things of the future, and those were the slow days of sailing ships. Application was made to the Admiralty in the hope of getting the goods conveyed by one of their vessels. At the time, however, no Government ship was commissioned to that quarter of the world, and it was not till the last day of October, 1851, more than a year after the departure of the Ocean Queen from Liverpool, that H.M.S. Dido left Devonport with the belated stores on board. By that time Captain Gardiner and every member of his party had already been starved to death, and their unburied corpses were lying here and there along a wild and rocky shore.
But we must now return to Banner Cove and follow the story as it lies revealed in Gardiner's own diary. Having landed with some difficulty owing to a sudden gale which sprang up before the Ocean Queen was out of sight, the seven pioneers succeeded in making a cache among the rocks without being observed by the natives. Here they deposited a reserve stock of provisions, thinking it safer to do this than to keep everything stored in the launches. Not long after the Fuegians made their appearance. Several war-canoes gathered in the bay, the men on board being all armed with spears, and it was clear from their demeanor that nothing but their dread of guns kept them from attacking instantly, and that they were only waiting for a suitable opportunity to make a sudden and overwhelming rush. The Captain accordingly resolved, though with great reluctance, to leave Banner Cove, and sailed to another inlet known as Spaniard Harbor. A few days after their arrival in that place, one of those violent hurricanes sprang up for which the region all around Cape Horn is so notorious. The boats were torn from their anchorage and dashed ashore. The stores and bedding were much damaged, but were secured and transferred to a damp cave. Here the whole party slept for two nights, with the result that every one of them was attacked by severe rheumatism. Meanwhile, the Pioneer had been driven high up on the beach in so disabled a condition as to be past repairing, and it was decided to let her lie where she was and use her cabin as a sleeping-place.
Troubles now began to thicken. Scurvy broke out—a deadly disease for men in such a situation, and not long after provisions began to run short. Now and then a few fish were caught, or an occasional wild fowl was knocked over on the beach, but no reliance could be put upon these sources of support. An expedition was accordingly made in the Speedwell to Banner Cove, in the hope of securing the provisions left in the cache, but two casks of biscuits were all that could now be found, and these were hardly got when the natives again gathered in force and compelled a hasty retreat.
The remaining months were months of dreadful suffering. It had now become evident that food might utterly fail before any relief came. The outlook was dark indeed. Not only was starvation staring them in the face, but disease had laid its enervating hand upon every one of them. We can picture those weary men with each returning morning standing on the shore and scanning the horizon with anxious eyes, "waiting for the ship that never came, while the waves beat monotonously on the beach and the sea-birds screamed ominously overhead." And yet they seem never to have lost their courage or their faith. When the hope of life was gone they waited patiently for death, and when it came at last met it with cheerful resignation.
And now something must be said of the search for Gardiner and its results. H.M.S. Dido was not the first vessel to reach Banner Cove. The schooner John Davidson, under Captain W. H. Smyley, which had been hastily commissioned for the purpose in a South American port, arrived there on 21 October, 1851. No one was to be seen, but on the rocks at the entrance to the cove the words were painted:—
“DIG BELOW
GO TO SPANIARD HARBOUR
MARCH 1851
Digging they found a note written by Captain Gardiner in which he said, "The Indians being so hostile, we have gone to Spaniard Harbor." Following these directions, Captain Smyley sailed to the place indicated, where, in his own words, he saw a sight that was "awful in the extreme.' In a stranded boat on the beach a dead body was lying; not far off was another washed to pieces by the waves; while yet a third lay half-buried in a shallow grave. One of the three was the surgeon, Mr. Williams; the other two were fishermen. No traces of Captain Gardiner and the rest were to be seen, and a heavy gale which sprang up all at once made it impossible to linger. Captain Smyley and his men had barely time to bury the dead on the beach in the teeth of a blinding snowstorm, and, as it was, experienced great difficulty in getting back to the schooner. They sailed at once for Monte Video with their dreadful news.
Next came the Dido from England. She too was guided from Banner Cove to Spaniard Harbor by the notice on the rocks, and her commander, setting to work with the energy and thoroughness characteristic of a British naval officer, succeeded in clearing up all that remained of the painful mystery The body of Mr. Maidment was found in a cave to which direction was given by a hand painted on the rocks, with Psa. 62:5-85My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him. 6He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defence; I shall not be moved. 7In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God. 8Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah. (Psalm 62:5‑8) painted underneath. The remains of Captain Gardiner himself were discovered by the side of a boat from which he seemed to have climbed out and been unable to get in again. For protection against the cold he had put on three suits of clothes and drawn woolen stockings over his arms above the other clothing. Below the waistcoat the seagulls had been at work, and had lessened, the effects of corruption. His Bible was at hand, containing numberless underlined passages, many of which seemed to have been marked during the time of his suffering as peculiarly suited to his circumstances.
Gardiner's journal was also found, carefully written up to the last, and giving many touching details of those dreadful months of starvation, disease, and slowly approaching death. Throughout all that period of anxiety and pain the strong faith of this heroic man appears to have burned like a lamp, while a spirit of affectionate brotherhood and quiet acceptance of the Divine will was displayed by every member of the doomed band. The Captain's last words seem to have been written when death was very near, and when his mind had begun to wander a little. He addresses himself to Mr. Williams—apparently forgetful of the fact (which is proved by his own journal) that the surgeon was already gone. The note is in pencil, written very indistinctly, and obliterated here and there.
“MY DEAR MR. WILLIAMS,—The Lord has seen fit to call home another of our little company. Our dear departed brother left the boat on Tuesday afternoon, and has not since returned. Doubtless he is in the presence of the Redeemer, Whom he served faithfully. Yet a little while, and though.., the Almighty to sing the praises... throne. I neither hunger nor thirst, though five days without food.... Maidment's kindness to me... heaven.
“Your affectionate brother in...
“ALLEN F. GARDINER.
“September 6th, 1851.”
Captain Morshead, of the Dido, gathered the remains together and buried them close to the cave in which the body of Mr. Maidment was found. The ship's flags hung at half-mast, one of the officers read the service for the dead, and three volleys of musketry were fired over the solitary grave.
Allen Gardiner's life is apt to strike us at first as one that was no less tragic in the fruitlessness of its great purpose than in the misery of its end. But it was not in vain that he strove, and, above all, it was not in vain that he and his brave comrades laid down their lives for Tierra del Fuego. The story of Captain Gardiner's death stirred England as he had never been able to stir her during his strenuous life. It gave a new impulse to the ideals which had led to the formation of the South American Missionary Society. It helped to bring about in due course, through the heroic labors of other noble men who took up the unfinished task, that complete transformation of the Fuegians to which reference was made in the beginning of this chapter. The people of Tierra del Fuego are no longer a degraded and cruel race, the terror of the sailor wrecked upon their dreary coasts. In every part of the archipelago to which the message of the Gospel has penetrated they are a humane and civilized folk, ready to give a kindly Christian welcome to any poor ship-less mariner who has struggled to their shores out of the devouring waves.
LITERATURE. —Hope Deferred, not Lost, by the Rev. G. P. Despard, B. A. (South American Missionary Society); From Cape Horn to Panama, by Robert Young, F. R. S. G. S. (Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent, and Co.); Captain Allen Gardiner: Sailor and Saint, by Jesse Page (S. W. Partridge and Co.); Journal of Researches during the Voyage of ILLS. Beagle, by Charles Darwin (John Murray).