LETTER I
To Mrs. Saville, England
ST. PETERSBURGH, Dec. 11, 17 - .
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the
commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such
evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday; and my first
task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare, and increasing
confidence in the success of my undertaking.
I am already far north of London; and as I walk in the streets
of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my
cheeks, which braces my nerves, and fills me with delight.
Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled
from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a
foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of
promise, my day dreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in
vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and
desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the
region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is for
ever visible; its broad disk just skirting the horizon, and
diffusing a perpetual splendour. There - for with your leave,
my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators - there
snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we
may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty
every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe.
Its productions and features may be without example, as the
phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those
undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country
of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which
attracts the needle; and may regulate a thousand celestial
observations, that require only this voyage to render their
seeming eccentricities consistent for ever. I shall satiate my
ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never
before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by
the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are
sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death, and to
induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a
child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday
mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But,
supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest
the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind to
the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to
those countries, to reach which at present so many months are
requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which,
if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such
as mine.
These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I
began my letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm
which elevates me to heaven; for nothing contributes so much to
tranquillise the mind as a steady purpose - a point on which the
soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been
the favourite dream of my early years. I have read with ardour
the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the
prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the
seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a history
of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the
whole of our good uncle Thomas's library. My education was
neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These
volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with
them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on
learning that my father's dying injunction had forbidden my
uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.
These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those
poets whose effusions entranced my soul, and lifted it to
heaven. I also became a poet, and for one year lived in a
Paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might
obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and
Shakspeare are consecrated. You are well acquainted with my
failure, and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just
at that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my
thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent.
Six years have passed since I resolved on my present
undertaking. I can, even now, remember the hour from which I
dedicated myself to this great enterprise. I commenced by
inuring my body to hardship. I accompanied the whale-fishers
on several expeditions to the North Sea; I voluntarily endured
cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep; I often worked harder
than the common sailors during the day, and devoted my nights
to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those
branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer
might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice I
actually hired myself as an under-mate in a Greenland whaler,
and acquitted myself to admiration. I must own I felt a little
proud when my captain offered me the second dignity in the
vessel, and entreated me to remain with the greatest
earnestness; so valuable did he consider my services.
And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some
great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and
luxury; but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth
placed in my path. Oh, that some encouraging voice would
answer in the affirmative! My courage and my resolution is
firm; but my hopes fluctuate and my spirits are often
depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult
voyage, the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude:
I am required not only to raise the spirits of others, but
sometimes to sustain my own, when theirs are failing.
This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia.
They fly quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is
pleasant, and, in my opinion, far more agreeable than that of
an English stage-coach. The cold is not excessive, if you are
wrapped in furs - a dress which I have already adopted; for
there is a great difference between walking the deck and
remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise
prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins.
I have no ambition to lose my life on the post-road between
St. Petersburgh and Archangel.
I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three
weeks; and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can
easily be done by paying the insurance for the owner, and to
engage as many sailors as I think necessary among those who are
accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not intend to sail until
the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, dear sister,
how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many
months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet.
If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.
Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down
blessings on you, and save me, that I may again and again
testify my gratitude for all your love and kindness. - Your
affectionate brother,
R. WALTON
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