Worcester, February, 1857
You will like to hear something of Dr. Hayes and his lecture.
There was a large audience, who of course expected plenty of beard and
bearskin, and applauded rather faintly when a spare young man in black stepped
out on the platform. He is thin, nervous, spirited, with quite a lively manner.
. . . Much of the lecture was familiar to us; but the descriptions were very
simple and quite graphic. He always said we and referred but once to Dr.
Kane, speaking of “the brave heart of our commander.”
The most novel and least pleasing part of it was his
description of their separation from Dr. Kane. This he did not speak of as a
thing requiring apology, but he did not give the explanation given by Dr. Kane,
or rather added it, as part of their plan, to remain at the Esquimaux
settlements and supply the rest of the party with food. But how were they to
get the food? They were not hunters, and their few knives and treasures soon
lost their power over the natives, so that they would not sell them even
provisions enough for themselves, as might have been anticipated. Dr. K. softens
down their sufferings, perhaps in charity for their blunder; he says they had
lived on seal and walrus for two months, but Hayes says that they lived for the
last three weeks on lichens from the rocks, and had only fuel enough to cook
coffee twice a day.
Another thing Dr. H. told with great openness which Dr. K.
omits entirely: that the party of the former had not only appropriated some . .
. furs — but much worse. For they drugged with laudanum some natives who
visited them, took their sledges and dogs, and made off. Being poor drivers,
however, the owners soon overtook them, and were compelled by (empty) rifles to
drive them to the brig; thus they escaped . . . and it seems rather hard, after
such an example, to reproach the poor Esquimaux with theft. To be sure, the
party were reduced to extremities, but the Esquimaux were in extremities all
the time.
Otherwise, I liked the Doctor and walked along with him
afterwards to his hotel. His great desire now is to go in a small screw steamer
to explore that open sea; I begged him not to mention it, lest I should go too.
. . . He wore finally a bearskin coat, one of the skins, and says his
sensations of cold here are not the least affected by his Arctic experiences.
(N. B. The mercury fell to zero as soon as he entered the city.)
SOURCE: Mary Potter Thacher Higginson, Editor, Letters
and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1846-1906, p. 91-2
