# Works of Jules Verne/Adventures of Captain Hatteras/The English at the North Pole/Chapter 1

The English at the North Pole
CHAPTER I
THE "FORWARD"
O-MORROW, at ebb tide, the brig Forward will sail from the New Prince's Docks, captain K. Z.; chief officer, Richard Shandon; destination unknown."
Such was the announcement which appeared in the Liverpool Herald of April 5, 1860.
The departure of a brig is not a very important event for one of the largest trading ports in England. Indeed, who would notice it among the crowd of ships, of every tonnage and every nation, which the long miles of floating docks can scarcely contain; and yet from an early hour on the morning of April 9th, numbers of people began to assemble on the wharf. The whole maritime population of Liverpool seemed to agree to congregate there, and not only the sailors, but all classes, came flocking thither. The dock laborers left their work, the city clerks their dingy counting-houses, and the shopkeepers their deserted shops. Omnibus after omnibus set down its load of passengers outside the dock walls, till the entire city appeared to have turned out to see the Forward sail.
The Forward was a brig of 170 tons, fitted up with a screw propeller and an engine of 12O-horse-power. She might easily have been confounded with other brigs in port by the ordinary onlooker, and yet to the practiced eye of a sailor there were certain peculiarities about her which made her unmistakable, as appeared from the conversation of a group of men assembled on the deck of the Nautilus, a vessel lying close by. They were eagerly discussing the probable destination of the Forward, and each one had his own conjecture.
​"What do you think of her masts?" said one. "It certainly ain't usual for steamships to have such large sails."
"Depend upon it," said a broad, red-faced quartermaster, " that yon craft reckons more on her masts than her engine. She hasn't all that topsail for nothing. To me it is clear enough the Forward is bound for the Arctic or Antarctic Seas, where great ice mountains shut out the wind rather more than suits a strong, brave ship."
"You must be right, Master Cornhill," said a third sailor; "and have you noticed the bow, what a straight line it makes to the sea?"
"Ay! and more than that, it is sheathed with cast-steel as sharp as a razor, which would cut a three-decker in two if the Forward fell foul of it sideways at full speed," replied Cornhill.
"That it would," added a Mersey pilot, "for she can make fourteen knots an hour easily with her screw. It was wonderful to see how she cut through the water on her trial trip. Take my word for it, she's a good runner, and no mistake."
"Besides," said Cornhill, "do you see the size of the helm-post?"
"Yes; but what does that prove?"
"That proves, my boys," said Cornhill, in a disdainful, self-satisfied manner, "that you can neither see nor think; that proves that it was a great matter to give full play to the rudder, a very necessary thing in the frozen seas of the north."
"Right, right," said the sailors.
"And, what's more," continued one of them, " the loading of the ship confirms your opinion. I had it from Clifton, who is one of her men, that she is taking provisions for five years, and coals too. That is all the cargo; nothing but coals and provisions, and great bales of woolen clothing and seal-skins."
"That settles it, of course," replied Cornhill. " But you say you know Clifton—hasn't he told you where they are going?"
"He doesn't know himself; he is in perfect ignorance. All the crew have been engaged like that. Where he's going, he'll hardly know himself before he's there."
​"It looks to me very much as if they were all going to Old Nick," said an incredulous listener.
"And did you ever hear of such wages?" continued Clifton's friend. "Five times more than the common pay! Ay, if it hadn't been for that, Dick Shandon wouldn't have found a man to sign the articles. To make a voyage in such a queer-looking ship, bound for nobody knows where, and coming back nobody knows when I must confess it wouldn't suit me."
"It doesn't matter much whether it would or not, old fellow, for you couldn't go; they wouldn't have you on board the Forward," said Cornhill.
"Pray, why not?"
"Because you can't meet one of the conditions required. I am told that all married men are ineligible, so you are shut out."
"There's so much bounce about the brig altogether," Cornhill went on, "even down to the very name, the Forward. Forward where to? And then there is no captain!"
"Yes, there is," said a frank, boyish-looking young sailor.
"What! a captain has turned up?"
"Yes, a captain."
"You are fancying, youngster, that Shandon is the captain," said Cornhill.
"But I tell you," returned the lad, " that———"
"And I tell you," interrupted Cornhill, "that Shandon is the mate and nothing more. He is a brave hardy sailor, an old hand in whaling expeditions, and a thorough good fellow, quite fit to be captain, but captain he is not, any more than you or I. He doesn't even know who is to take the command. At the right time the real captain is to make his appearance, but when that is to be, or in what part of the world, no one knows, for Shandon has not said, nor is he allowed to reveal the ship's destination."
"All that may be, Master Cornhill," replied the young sailor, "But I assure you that at this very moment there is someone on board, someone whose arrival was announced in the very letter which contained the offer to Mr. Shandon of chief officer's berth!"
"What!" retorted Cornhill, frowning angrily at the ​audacious youngster. "Do you dare to stand out that there is a captain on board?"
"Yes, certainly, Master Cornhill."
"You say that to my face!"
"Of course I do; I had it from Johnson, one of the officers on board."
"From Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes, he told me himself."
"Johnson told you, did he?"
"He not only told me, but showed me the captain."
"Showed you the captain!" repeated Cornhill in blank amaze.
"Yes! he showed me the captain."
"And you really saw him?"
"Yes! with my own eyes."
"And who is it, pray?"
"It is a dog."
"A dog?"
"A dog with four feet?"
"Yes!"
The sailors of the Nautilus seemed stupefied. Under any other circumstances, such a declaration would have provoked shouts of laughter. The idea of a dog being captain of a brig of 170 tons. It was too ludicrous. But there was something altogether so extraordinary about this Forward that one need think twice before denying or even ridiculing the boy's assertion, and instead of laughing, Cornhill said gravely:
"So it was Johnson who introduced you to this novel sort of a captain, and you actually saw him?"
"As plain as I see you."
"Well, Cornhill, what do you think of that? " asked the sailors, eagerly.
"I think nothing," replied Cornhill, roughly, "except that the Forward either belongs to the devil, or to some fools let loose from Bedlam!"
The crew continued silently gazing at the wonderful brig, watching the final preparations for departure, but not one among them dared to say, or even so much as pretended to believe, that Johnson had been only making a fool of the boy, and imposing on his credulity.
The story of the dog had already got abroad, and more ​than one among the crowds that thronged the quays sought to catch a glimpse of this dog-captain, half-believing him supernatural.
Besides, for many months past the Forward had been attracting public attention. The peculiarities about her build, the mystery hanging over her, the incognito preserved by the captain, the strange way in which Shandon had received his appointment, the special care taken in selecting the crew, and the unknown destination all combined to invest her with a singular charm of romance.
The Forward had been constructed at Birkenhead by Messrs. Scott & Co., one of the most famous shipbuilders in England. The firm had received from Richard Shandon a minute plan, detailing every particular as to tonnage and dimensions, and also a sketch drawn with the greatest care, and evidently the production of a practiced seaman. As considerable sums were forthcoming, the work was commenced at once, and proceeded with as rapidly as possible.
The brig was characterized by the utmost solidity. She was evidently intended to resist enormous pressure, for the frame was not only made of teak-wood—a sort of oak which grows in India, and is remarkable for its extreme hardness—but was firmly bound together by strong iron bars. It was indeed a matter of surprise among the seafaring population that frequented the building yard, why the entire hull was not sheet iron like most steamers, and many inquiries were put to the shipwrights, but all the answer received was that they were obeying orders.
By slow degrees the brig began to take shape on the stocks, and connoisseurs were struck by the elegance and strength of her proportions. As the crew of the Nautilus had remarked, the stem made a right angle with the keel. It had no breakhead, but a sharp edge of cast steel made in the foundries of R. Hawthorn, at Newcastle. This metal prow glittering in the sun, gave a peculiar look to the ship, though there was nothing absolutely warlike about it. However, there was a cannon of 16 lbs. caliber mounted on the forecastle, on a pivot, to allow of its being easily pointed in all directions; and yet, in spite of both stem and cannon, the vessel was not the least like a ship intended for battle.
​On the 5th of February the Forward was ready, and made a successful launch in the presence of an immense crowd of spectators.
The day after the launch, the engine arrived from Newcastle, from the works of Messrs. Hawthorn. This engine, of 120-horsepower, and provided with oscillating cylinders, was of considerable size for a brig of 170 tons, but did not take up much room. As soon as it was placed on board, the work of provisioning began, and no easy matter it was to stow away food for six years. The stores consisted principally of salted and smoked meat, dried fish, biscuit and flour, mountains of coffee and tea were thrown into the hold in a perfect avalanche. Richard Shandon superintended personally the storage of this precious cargo, arranging it like a man who understood his business. Everything was numbered and labeled and disposed in the most orderly manner. A large quantity of pemmican was also taken on board, an Indian preparation, which contains much nourishment in small bulk.
The nature of the provisions left no doubt as to the length of the cruise; and to an observing eye, there was none as to the ship's destination, at the sight of those barrels of lime-juice, and lumps of chalk, and packets of mustard, and sorrel, and cochlearia seed; in other words, the abundance of anti-scorbutic preparations proved that the Forward was bound for the Polar Seas. Shandon had no doubt received special orders about this part of the cargo, for he paid studious attention to it, and also fitted up the medicine chest with the most scrupulous care.
The stock of firearms was not great, a reassuring fact to timid people, but on the other hand, the powder-magazine was full to overflowing. What was it intended for? There was far more than one solitary cannon could possibly use. Then there were also enormous saws, and other powerful instruments, such as levers, hand-saws, heaps of bullets, immense hatchets, not to speak of a goodly number of blasting cylinders, the explosion of which would have blown the Custom House at Liverpool into the air. It was all very strange, if not alarming, even without taking into account the fusees, and signals, and fireworks of all descriptions.
The boats too were objects of great curiosity to the gap​ing crowd that hung about the New Prince's Docks. There was a canoe made of tinned iron, covered with gutta-percha, a long mahogany whaling-boat, and a number of halkett-boats or india-rubber cloaks, which could be converted into canoes by inflating the lining.
The Forward was certainly altogether a most mysterious, puzzling vessel, and people grew quite excited about her, now that the hour for sailing had come.
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