The Tsarina's Lost Treasure

It's an absolute pleasure to welcome Gerald Easter and Mara Vorhees to the salon today. Gerald and Mara are the authors of the wonderful new book, The Tsarina's Lost Treasure, all about the search for the ship Vrouw Maria, which was lost in 1771. When the ship went down, it took with it Catherine the Great's priceless collection of art. Two and a half centuries later, the Vrouw Maria and her cargo have been found deep beneath the waves. This gripping book tells the full - sometimes mindboggling - tale.

Read more about the book and its remarkable story by clicking here.

---oOo---

 

An Excerpt from

The Tsarina’s Lost Treasure 

Catherine the Great A Golden Age Masterpiece, and a Legendary Shipwreck

 

Gerald Easter and Mara Vorhees

 

In the 18th century, Catherine the Great set out to make the Imperial Russian court in Saint Petersburg a great cultural power of Europe, and in so doing, became one of the continent’s most voracious art collectors. The 1771 auction of the Braamcamp estate in Amsterdam was the art event of the era, attracting aristocrats and art lovers from far and wide to vie for the European masterpieces in the celebrated collection. Catherine’s agents outbid and outspent all of her competitors, snapping up Braamcamp’s most desirable Dutch paintings for her own growing collection (which would become the foundation of the Hermitage Museum). 

 

Catherine scored a dozen invaluable paintings, which were loaded onto the merchant ship Vrouw Maria for transport to Saint Petersburg. In a late autumn squall, the ship crashed off the stormy Finnish coast, taking the historic cargo to the depths of the Baltic Sea. The Tsarina’s Lost Treasure recounts the fascinating tale of the Vrouw Maria – her loss and discovery – delving into the history and fate of Catherine’s precious cultural treasure. 

 

****

 

In ancient Rome, Minerva was goddess of wisdom and culture. The daughter of Jupiter, she inspired and defended those dedicated to knowledge and creation. For Catherine, myth became muse. The empress viewed herself as the “Russian Minerva, Patroness and Protectress of the Arts.” She encouraged the likeness. Images of Catherine wearing Minerva’s high-crested winged helmet were cast into commemorative coins, carved in ivory cameos, and painted onto fine porcelain plates. She even commissioned Flemish sculptor Jean-Pierre Tassaert to carve a life-sized marble figure of herself and Italian painter Gregorio Guglielmi to paint a ceiling fresco of herself in the guise of her favorite goddess. But the empress lacked a proper venue in which to play Minerva.

 

When the ship arrived with Catherine’s first major purchase, two-hundred-plus paintings from the Gotzkowsky collection, the empress fretted: she had no suitable space to display her spoils. Frederick the Great of Prussia had his Sanssouci; Catherine would have her Hermitage. The more she heard about Frederick’s Potsdam retreat, the more she coveted her own stylish sanctuary: a place removed from state affairs and court intrigues; a place reserved for stimulating conversation, soothing music, and exquisite artwork; part salon, part stage, part trophy room. 

 

Just twenty miles outside the capital were the gilded gardens of Tsarskoe Selo, where Empress Elizabeth had her favorite builder Bartolomo Rastrelli fashion a swanky rotunda for entertaining purposes. The inside was a modern marvel, with each dining table fitted with mechanical dumbwaiters. Following aristocratic fashion, Elizabeth gave her garden rotunda a French nickname, l’Ermitage. Catherine considered this site for her art collection, but it was both too far away and too flamboyant. Catherine wanted to keep her stash close by. So she decided to

build her own “Little Hermitage” along the Neva Embankment next to the Winter Palace, where she lived and worked.

 

Like Elizabeth, Catherine loved to build. She confessed to Grimm: “We have a mania for building. It is a fiendish thing and consumes so much money, but the more I build, the more I want to build. It is as addictive as alcohol.” Unlike Elizabeth, Catherine loathed ostentation in her buildings. For her new Hermitage, the tsarina passed over Rastrelli, whose rococo creations were like whipped cream, she said. Instead, she gave the commission to Yury Velten, Rastrelli’s longtime assistant. 

 

In a restrained Baroque style, Velten produced a two-story South Pavilion, bordering

Palace Square. At this time, construction was also underway on a new gallery for the Academy of Arts on Vasilievsky Island. Catherine viewed its progress from her palace windows. She was so taken by this building’s elegant simple lines that she commissioned its Classical Revivalist architect, Villain de la Mothe of France, to design the next phase of her Hermitage. Mothe crafted a three-story neoclassical North Pavilion, along the riverfront. He then connected the two facing pavilions with long open galleries, surrounding a hanging garden courtyard. This structural ensemble became Catherine’s salon, the Little Hermitage.

The Small Hermitage, built by Catherine the Great to display her art collection, now part of the State Hermitage Museum.

The empress paced the halls of her new playhouse in solitude. She contemplated the plaster walls, an empty canvas to be filled. She envisaged various arrangements for her artworks. Catherine alone decided which of her favorites would be displayed, and how. The Flemish masters Rubens, Bruegel, and van Dyck adorned one gallery wall; the Italian masters Tintoretto and Veronese the opposite side; while Dutch masters Hals, Rembrandt, and Steen were placed where everyone who entered would see them. The smaller scale Dous were grouped together and hung low, so visitors could admire the lifelike detail of the Leiden fijnschilder. When new

acquisitions arrived, the empress took care and pleasure to find their right place among her treasures.

 

The empress’s days were full of formality—counsels, ceremony, correspondence; but the evenings were given to informality—conversation, games, entertainment. Intimate parties of a dozen or so select guests gathered at night in the Little Hermitage. To assure the proper atmosphere, Catherine composed a list of ten rules For the Behavior of All Those Entering These Doors:

1) All ranks, swords and hats shall be left at the door;

2) Haughtiness in all forms shall be left at the door;

3) Act merry, but do not upset or break anything;

4) Sit, stand or walk as you please, regardless of others;

5) Do not talk loud, or give others an earache or headache;

6) Do not argue too passionately or angrily;

7) Do not sigh, yawn or anything that fatigues and bores others;

8) Agree to participate in any innocent games suggested by others;

9) Eat and drink as you please, but always leave on your own legs;

10) All that is said and done here must stay here after you leave.

 

As punishment for those who violated the rules one through nine, the empress made them guzzle a glass of ice water and recite passages of poetry. Those who trespassed against the tenth rule, however, were forever banned from the premises.

Portrait of Empress Catherine the Great, née Princess Sophie of Anhalt-Zerbst, Fyodor Rokotov (?), 1780s, State Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg, Russia.

“My pictures are beautiful,” the empress told Falconet. “When can you come see them?” Catherine was most comfortable in this combined setting of high culture and casual socializing. Philosophers discussed, musicians played, poets recited, and actors performed. While Frederick composed his flute sonatas at Sanssouci, Catherine tried her hand as a playwright, using the Hermitage theatre to stage her comedies. Invited guests played whist and bridge and other gambling games. Catherine was always eager to make a wager, even though she most often lost. Silver serving trays of food were laid out, alongside brimming crystal decanters of wine and vodka. Inevitably, at some point in the evening, the empress escorted guests to the galleries to view her most recent Old Master triumph. Here in the Little Hermitage, Catherine was indeed the Russian Minerva.

The Tent-Roofed Hall in the New Hermitage, now part of the State Hermitage Museum, displays 17th century Dutch paintings.

In mid-March 1771, the empress sat down with her vice chancellor for the morning

briefing. Through the tall palace windows, she could see the Neva River was finally stirring, as late winter ice crackled and churned. Alexander Golitsyn read to Her Majesty a letter just arrived from cousin Dmitry in The Hague: An extraordinary opportunity, the Amsterdam merchant Braamcamp is dead. His famous Temple of Arts, filled with rare and precious Old Masters, soon will go to auction.

 

 

The Lost Story of the William & Mary

Today we gad out to sea with the marvellous Gill Hoffs, for a tale of shipwreck.

---oOo---

The lost story of the William & Mary happened after the long 18^th century, the usual focus for this blog, but stories from the sea have something timeless about them so it is fitting that this tale of wretched rogues and angelic wreckers has found a home here.  There are sharks and whales swimming out there as you read this piece which were alive while two hundred would-be emigrants fought for their lives in the Bahamas in 1853, and sadly the sea is just as deadly as it’s ever been for the unlucky and unwise.

The English, Irish, Scottish and Dutch emigrants were so hopeful as they boarded the ship in Liverpool, England, looking forward to new lives in America where some planned to settle a town in Wisconsin and others were meeting family members already established in the comparatively enormous country.  They were the first passengers to travel on this ship and, it turned out, the last.  After a horrendous journey with no ship surgeon, precious few provisions doled out by a violent crew, and a prescription of bacon from the captain for passengers dying of fever, the emigrants were relieved to reach the Bahamas as they knew the American port of New Orleans would soon be in sight.  Unfortunately, the arrogant and inexperienced captain would take them no further.

Map of route through Bahamas - Lotgevallen van den heer O.H.Bonnema, 1853, used with kind permission of Collectie Tresoar.

One evening, having already narrowly missed a collision with an island, the ship was holed twice and began to sink.  Captain Stinson threatened the passengers with his own desertion, told them the water in the hold was twice as deep as it really was, hid the distress flag, and eventually managed to sneak off with many of his crew (and the remaining provisions) in a lifeboat.  Several of the passengers swam after them only to be murdered with a hatchet when they reached the fleeing sailors, and the cowardly captain stood with his hat held high and called over to the screaming families, “Friends, may you fare well”.

William and Mary - Lotgevallen van den heer O.H.Bonnema, 1853, used with kind permission of Collectie Tresoar.

He reported the ship as lost before his eyes and everyone aboard was presumed drowned.  Journalists suspected something was up and pressed for answers only to find the captain had disappeared, as had his crew.  Some weeks later the truth emerged and his disappearance made more sense.  The people he left to drown had instead kept the pumps going for two days and nights until an exceptionally brave local wrecker and his crew came to the rescue.

To find out more, read “The Lost Story of the William & Mary: The Cowardice of Captain Stinson” (Pen & Sword, 2016).

About the Author

Gill Hoffs is the author of “Wild: a collection” (Pure Slush, 2012) and two shipwreck books, “The Sinking of RMS Tayleur: The Lost Story of the ‘Victorian Titanic’” (Pen & Sword, 2014, 2015) and the recently released “The Lost Story of the William & Mary: The Cowardice of Captain Stinson” (Pen & Sword, 2016).  She lives in Warrington, England, with Coraline Cat.  If anyone has any information regarding these shipwrecks and the people involved, they can email her at gillhoffs@hotmail.co.uk or find her on twitter @GillHoffs.

http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/The-Lost-Story-of-the-William-and-Mary-Hardback/p/12290

http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/The-Sinking-of-RMS-Tayleur-Paperback/p/10677

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wild-collection-Gill-Hoffs-ebook/dp/B00DQ1A8UC

https://twitter.com/GillHoffs

Port Wine, War and Eccentricity

It's a delight to welcome Alicia Quigley back to the salon today to chat about port wine, war and eccentricity! Congratulations to Regan Walker and Caffey, who have won free copies of “Lady, Lover, Smuggler, Spy”!

---oOo---

Port Wine, War and Eccentricity 

There are few beverages more closely associated with the English upper classes of the 18^th and 19^th centuries than port wine. The image of gentlemen lingering over their port while the ladies retire to the drawing room is a strong one, and beloved of romance writers like me, because it offers ample opportunity for catty conversations or boozy confidences of the sort that can depict character and move the plot along. Beau Brummell, the dandy beau ideal of the Regency period, was as capricious about port as he was about many other things. While he was known to purchase it from Berry Brothers in St. James, and said “A gentleman always ports with his cheese,” this less positive remark from the Beau has also come down to us. “Port? Port? Oh, Port! The intoxicating hot liquor so largely drank by the lower orders.”

I was recently lucky enough to visit Porto, Portugal the home of port wine history and production. I had the chance to visit several port houses, learning something about the history and production of the luscious drink, and some of the less known but still colorful Georgian characters whose lives touched on this product. 

Wine making in the Duero valley goes back to the Roman period and the oldest port houses were founded in the late 16^th and early 17^th centuries. However, the real flowering of the industry coincides with the beginning of the Georgian period when a number of the port brands we still know today were established. In 1756, the region was declared a unique region and the name was protected (the 3^rd oldest such designation in the world). 

Porto has several major advantages: it is near the mouth of the Duero River, with an excellent port for ships taking wind to England, and the Duero valley itself has some of the best wine growing conditions in the Iberian Peninsula. In addition, along the river in Porto, there are numerous caves ideal for aging wines forming a perfect confluence. 

Several of the existing port wine houses originated in the late 17^th and early 18th century, and have founders and family histories marked by adventurous types. This is not surprising considering the difficulties of operating multi-national export businesses in that period. 

One of the reasons I wanted to visit Porto (besides the opportunity to tour various port houses and taste their products) was that it was the site of an important and interesting Peninsular War battle – The Battle of the Douro (also known as the 2^nd Battle of Porto), which essentially drove the French out of Portugal. 

One famous port producer, Croft, which can trace its origins back to the 1600’s, was being run by the 4^th John Croft at the time of the Peninsular War. The family had a long history and deep immersion in the business; the 2^nd John Croft had written a definitive treatise on port wines. 

The 4^th John Croft seems to have been an adventurous type, and as a wine merchant, sourcing product from around Portugal, he had every opportunity to travel extensively and meet with many local people who were largely violently opposed to the French occupation. Wellington and his staff were well known to enjoy good food, wine and large parties when the pressures of campaigning permitted. Campaign conditions in the Peninsula were notoriously harsh and access to good port was one of the few luxuries available to the officers, so it’s not surprising that John Croft became acquainted with Wellington. However, the 4^th John also began gathering intelligence for him for the British. Tracking the movement of French troops in the heavy woods and mountains of Portugal would have required people with detailed knowledge of the country, and a network of trusted acquaintances, which Croft, with his long family history and business ties in the region, would have had. 

Replica wine barges on the Duero River of the type used to move the English troops at the Battle of Porto

Wellington achieved his victory at the Battle of Porto by hiding his soldiers on the barges used to move the port across the river and surprising the French, who had destroyed the bridge and had nearly all the vessels in the area under guard. 

Watercolor of Portuguese worker delivering coal painted by John Croft

Another intelligence officer, Colonel John Waters, was instrumental in the victory at Porto. A local barber who was apparently one of his informants told Waters of four wine barges that were hidden unguarded in a marsh along the river. Early in the morning of 11 May in 1809 and with the help of some locals they sailed them to the English side without the French seeing them. Wellington was able to move 600 soldiers across the river to an unoccupied, but partially fortified seminary. From this location, the English were able to protect other troops being brought across the river from the French, and eventually roundly defeated Marshal Soult who held the town.

Colonel Waters went on to other exploits, and in 1811 was captured by the French before the Battle of Sabugal when he was reconnoitering French positions. He refused to give his parole and was sent under guard to Salamanca. Waters had a better horse than his guards’ and when he spied a chance to escape, he clapped his spurs to its sides and raced away between two lines of French soldiers. Some of them fired on him, while others cheered him on. He managed to duck into a wooded area, where he was able to shake the guards chasing him. A few days later, Waters reappeared at Wellingtons’s headquarters where his baggage was waiting. A dispatch explained it thus; “Lord Wellington, knowing his resolute, subtle character, had caused his baggage to be brought, observing that he would not be long absent.” Waters went on to a long and distinguished career including service at Waterloo, and retired as a much decorated general. 

General John Waters

After the French were pushed out of Portugal, Wellington called on Jack Croft to distribute relief money to the impoverished population of northern Portugal. He traveled around the country distributing money and for his efforts he was made a baronet, Sir John Croft of Cowling Hall, and later given the title of Baron of Serra da Estrela by the Portuguese crown. 

The money chest used by John Croft to distribute relief funds

While my new release, “Lady, Lover, Smuggler, Spy” does not take place in Spain or Portugal, my heroine’s character and life is heavily influenced by her experiences following the drum during the Peninsular War. Visiting these sites as well as reading the history has given me more insight into the conditions and her possible motivations. The following excerpt is an example of those motivations.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt:

Valerie fell silent, looking down at her hands, and Sir Tarquin, finding himself appreciating the sight of her blonde curls, fine figure, and aura of calm, didn’t need to stretch his imagination far to imagine the son of the Forney household had been unable to resist the temptation of the pretty governess.

“It makes me angry to think of you being preyed upon,” he said abruptly, much to his own surprise.

“It is a common enough problem, and far worse has befallen others. He did not force me and, while Mrs. Forney was unkind, I left of my own volition,” said Valerie uncomfortably. “My friends have helped me before and will help me now. I would rather spend my time with children, but perhaps I will have to seek employment as a companion to an older lady instead.”

“You do not deserve a life as a drudge to children or as the companion of elderly harridan, who will doubtless have a horrid grandson who will treat you as Mr. Forney did,” Sir Tarquin exclaimed. “You are young, and have given far too much.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked.

“You sacrificed a husband and a family to your country, did you not?”

“I suppose you could say so, although it has been three long years since then.” A wistful look came over her face. “It seems so far away. Thinking of it now, Robert and I were both practically children; it is almost as though it happened to someone else, or was a story someone told to me.”

“Yet you are still all but penniless and without protection as a result, are you not? That is not much of an ending to the story.”

She gazed at him thoughtfully. “It was my decision, though I was far too young to understand the possible consequences. In some ways it was worth it all the same; I loved Robert as much as an eighteen-year-old can love anyone, and perhaps even more, I loved following the drum.”

Sir Tarquin looked startled. “Did you really? Surely it was a very hard life for a gently bred and sheltered young lady?” 

Valerie laughed. “Indeed it was! I had no notion that such hardships were ahead of me. Yet the sense of purpose, of being needed and useful was inspiring . I was always rather bookish, and never truly enjoyed the rounds of parties and balls, to my stepmother’s despair.” She hesitated and continued, “My father you know, is very concerned about matters of manners and breeding, and my lack of interest in making a grand marriage upset him.”

Summoning up a vision of the ill-tempered Lord Upleadon, whose snobbery was legendary even among the ton, Sir Tarquin could easily imagine that he had made the Season a misery for his daughter. “I can easily imagine he was inexcusably harsh in expressing his disappointment,” he replied. 

“I see you know my father, so I won’t try to deny it,” she replied with a ghost of a smile. “But I can’t regret any of the difficulties, for I did discover the powerful joy of knowing that my life had meaning and purpose, and that overcame all else.

“Even in the tail of the Army with all the camp followers, and rabble you felt so?” Sir Tarquin asked curiously. 

“Oh, I rode with the column, Sir Tarquin,” she exclaimed proudly. “I had no children to care for and I was handy with horses even before I went on campaign, for my father’s stables are renowned and I spent a great deal of time in them as a child. I soon learned to kill and stew a chicken, and make sure that there was always something to eat at our billet, so it was not long before many of the other officers were to be found at our table.”

About the Author

Alicia Quigley is a lifelong lover of romance novels, who fell in love with Jane Austen in grade school, and Georgette Heyer in junior high.  She made up games with playing cards using the face cards for Heyer characters, and sewed regency gowns (walking dresses, riding habits and bonnets that even Lydia Bennett wouldn’t have touched) for her Barbie.  In spite of her terrible science and engineering addiction, she remains a devotee of the romance, and enjoys turning her hand to their production as well as their consumption.

About the Book

Mrs. Valerie Carlton is the widow of a soldier who died in the Peninsular Wars. Disowned by her family for “marrying down,” she survives working as a governess. When the elder son of the family makes unwelcome advances, Valerie leaves, seeking refuge with a close friend until she can find another position.

Sir Tarquin Arlingby, a wealthy, handsome bachelor on his way home, is staying at the same inn as Valerie and witnesses her being robbed before she can board the coach. He goes to Valerie’s aid and is instantly attracted to her. As her friend’s home is near his estate, he offers to drive her there.

An unfortunate accident forces the pair to spend a night in a village inn. Over dinner, Valerie talks about her experiences during the Spanish campaign against Napoleon and the sense of mission that she felt following the drum, which she misses in her current life. Sir Tarquin, who is secretly spying for the Crown by masquerading as a smuggler to pass information in and out of France, is intrigued by her bravery and his attraction increases. Valerie is also drawn to the handsome baronet.

Tarquin needs a French-speaking woman to pose as a smuggler during a mission to the “City of Smugglers” in Gravelines. When he discovers that Valerie speaks French like a native, he successfully recruits her for the job.

Will the pair survive their dangerous mission? Will they finally acknowledge the depth of their feelings for each other?

Find out in Lady, Lover, Smuggler, Spy, a Regency romance with intrigue, humor and just the right amount of moderately explicit sex for those readers who enjoy sensuality with their romances. 

Buy link:

Lady, Lover, Smuggler, Spy

Social Media:

Web Site and/or Social Media links

Twitter

Facebook

Written content of this post copyright © Alicia Quigley, 2016.

SaveSaveSaveSave

The Kraken Returns

Last week the salon was visited by the legendary Kraken, and what a popular visitor he was! Today we welcome another tale of this legendary sea creature, from the news of 1776.

TO THE EDITOR

SIR,

AS there are still some people who doubt the existence of the Kraken, notwithstanding the testimony of the ingenious Bishop Pontoppidan, in his Natural History of Norway, I inclose you an authentic Description  upon the subject, which I doubt not will convince the most incredulous. If any one will enquire after Robert Jamieson, he will be found to be a man of unblemished reputation; and every one who is acquainted with the customs of the Western Isles must know that the Officers, before whom it was sworn, are of such weight there, as to preclude all idea of their having been wilfully deceived.

I am your obedient servant,

PHILALETHES

At Rothesay, in the island of Bute, the 22nd day of April, 1775 years:

Which day, in the presence of Mr John Blain, Commissary of the Isles, three of the Isles compeared Robert Jamieson, this island, a person of good fame and reputation, who being solemnly sworn and examined upon oath, deposes That he was Commander of the buss called the Janet, of Port Glasgow, while she was employed in the British White Herring Fishery last season; that the vessel being under sail at noon, on or about the 9th or 10th of August, 1774, ten or twelve leagues westward from that part of Rossshire, which lies between Row-Stoir of Assynt and Loch-Ninver, and the deponent being then in the cabin, one of his men called him up, to look at an island which had just made its appearance in the sea; that the deponent came upon deck accordingly, and saw the object distant from the vessel about three miles, or little more, in the east north-east direction from him, and between the vessel and the Continent; that he joined In opinion with his crew, which consisted of nine men besides himself, that it was an island, which he computed to be about a mile and a half in length, rising in the middle to the height of thirty feet or thereby above the surface of the water, and, as he imagined, it tapered considerably towards each end, but that he could not possibly form any estimate of its breadth across; that it remained in view, and apparent without motion, during the space of about five or six minutes, after which it sank down slowly, until it was entirely hid from view; that afterwards it rose and sunk alternately two different times, and, on every view the deponent had of it, the like inactive form was presented as at first, and its continuance on the surface was about five or six minutes each time; that its rising and sinking was always slow and gradual and occasional no whirpool, or other extraordinary commotion in the sea, so far as the deponent could perceive: and further deposes, That the space which intervened from the first time he saw it until its last disappearance, might be about twenty four minutes, it having remained below the service about three minutes between the first and second appearance, and pretty much the same space between the second and third; that the day was clear, and the wind blew moderately from west north-west; that immediately after it disappeared from his view for the last time, he saw on the surface of the water and number of objects representing a regiment or considerable assemblage of men, all in white, nearer to him by a mile and a half, as he thought, than where the supposed island appeared to have been; and in a little time they went off to the south-east in a confused fighting-like manner, resembling the quick motions of streamers or Aurora-Borealis; that there was not any island in the neighbourhood, nor any land nearer than the Row-Stoir abovementioned; and deposes, That the herrings and sundry other sorts of white fish, were remarkably plentiful, and of the best quality, in Loch Ninver, soon after the period before deposed to; and he, the deponent, made up a considerable part of his cargo in that Loch; that when he was a boy, he saw from the south-end of Bute, an appearance between that and Arran, resembling an island newly cast up in the sea, which, according to the idea he has of it, was longer than the one he saw last August; and he has heard different people affirm, that they have seen such an object between Bute and Arran. 

The Carta Marina, 1544

Being interrogated, if he had ever heard of a fish called the Kraken, and whether he thinks those new islands might not have been fish of that kind, deposes, That he had never heard of the Kraken till lately, and cannot take upon him determine whether it was Kraken he saw; that the appearances excited the idea and belief at the time they were really Islands; that when the deponent and his crew saw the supposed Islands first before mentioned, there was a vessel could the Peggy, of Port Glasgow, William Hunter, master, in company, and about a mile distant from them; that he understood from Mr. Hunter, and his crew, that he had not observed the island, though, in order to direct their attention towards it, the deponent caused his colours to be hoisted, and even sent out a boat, manned with five people, to enquire of Capt. Hunter what he and his crew, which consisted of six men, thought that the appearance, but it had sunk down for the last time before the boat reached the Peggy. 

All which is truth, as shall Answer to God.

Signed

ROBERT JAMIESON

JOHN BLAIN, Commissary

JOHN BRCE, Clerk

[…]

Note: I lately met with one of the men who was on board the Janet with Robert Jamieson, in August 1774, and, upon my questioning him, he concurred with the said Jamieson in every particular, as to the several appearances of the supposed island.

Signed,

JOHN BLAIN, Commissary.

Rothesay, August 10, 1775.

[Query, Whether the above appearance might not be a sinking island of ice from the North?]

From the General Evening Post (London, England), January 6, 1776 - January 9, 1776; Issue 6560. 17th-18th Century Burney Collection Newspapers.

SaveSave

A Report of a Kraken

From the news of 1786, a Kraken wakes...

Morning Post and Daily Advertiser, 24th August 1786

A young gentleman in Edinburgh has favoured us with the following extract of a letter sent him from Dundee, dated Aug. 17, 1786.

"Very little credit has been given to what Poutoppidan, Bishop of Bergen, in his Natural History of Norway, says of a certain aniinal called Kraken; but if the declaration made by the master and mate of a Norway ship now here, whereof the inclosed is a copy, may he depended on, it will afford some reason to believe, there is in nature such a creature as he describes.

It is proposed further to examine them, and the whole crew upon oath, and if any thing material occurs, I shall acquaint you."

"At Dundee, the 16th August, 1786. Before J. R. Lamy, one of his Majesty's Justices of the Peace for the County of Forfar, and Mr. John Guild, one of the present Magistrates of Dundee, appeared Jens Anderson and Mads Jenson, master and mate of the Margaretta of Easterezer, in Norway, who declare, and it is further confirmed by their several journals produced, That, on Saturday, the 5th day of this present month of August, between the hours of nine and ten in the forenoon of that day, being on their voyage to Dundee, and in latitude 56 16 N. about 15 or 16 leagues to the Eastward of the Island of May, they, as well as the whole crew of the said ship, perceived, within less than one mile's distance of the southward of them, what they conceived to be an animal, called in Norway a Sea Worm, a creature of an huge size, emerging from the sea: That, from its appearance, it seemed to Form three low islands, or sand banks, of a greyish colour.


That they conceive the length of it to have been at least three English miles: That it lay stretched from S.W. to N.E.: That its breadth appeared to be about 20 or 30 fathoms: That it was in sight fifty minutes, and went down gradually, without any remarkable agitation of the water. From the time of its ascending, and during its appearance on the water, the weather was perfectly calm, and it went down again as soon as a breeze came on. The waves broke on those parts of it which were above water as on a bank. The greatest apparent height it hore above water seemed to be from two to three fathoms. 

Declared and signed before us,
J.R. Lamy, J.P.
John Guild, Magistrate.
Jens Anderson,
Mads. Jenson."