CHAPTER I

START IN LIFE



I WAS born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family,
though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen,
who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise,
and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he
had married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in that country, and from whom I was called Robinson
Kreutznaer; but, by the usual corruption of words in England, we
are now called - nay we call ourselves and write our name - Crusoe;
and so my companions always called me.

I had two elder brothers, one of whom was lieutenant-colonel to an
English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by the
famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dunkirk
against the Spaniards. What became of my second brother I never
knew, any more than my father or mother knew what became of me.

Being the third son of the family and not bred to any trade, my
head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts. My
father, who was very ancient, had given me a competent share of
learning, as far as house-education and a country free school
generally go, and designed me for the law; but I would be satisfied
with nothing but going to sea; and my inclination to this led me so
strongly against the will, nay, the commands of my father, and
against all the entreaties and persuasions of my mother and other
friends, that there seemed to be something fatal in that propensity
of nature, tending directly to the life of misery which was to
befall me.

My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and excellent
counsel against what he foresaw was my design. He called me one
morning into his chamber, where he was confined by the gout, and
expostulated very warmly with me upon this subject. He asked me
what reasons, more than a mere wandering inclination, I had for
leaving father's house and my native country, where I might be well
introduced, and had a prospect of raising my fortune by application
and industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. He told me it was
men of desperate fortunes on one hand, or of aspiring, superior
fortunes on the other, who went abroad upon adventures, to rise by
enterprise, and make themselves famous in undertakings of a nature
out of the common road; that these things were all either too far
above me or too far below me; that mine was the middle state, or
what might be called the upper station of low life, which he had
found, by long experience, was the best state in the world, the
most suited to human happiness, not exposed to the miseries and
hardships, the labour and sufferings of the mechanic part of
mankind, and not embarrassed with the pride, luxury, ambition, and
envy of the upper part of mankind. He told me I might judge of the
happiness of this state by this one thing - viz. that this was the
state of life which all other people envied; that kings have
frequently lamented the miserable consequence of being born to
great things, and wished they had been placed in the middle of the
two extremes, between the mean and the great; that the wise man
gave his testimony to this, as the standard of felicity, when he
prayed to have neither poverty nor riches.

He bade me observe it, and I should always find that the calamities
of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind, but
that the middle station had the fewest disasters, and was not
exposed to so many vicissitudes as the higher or lower part of
mankind; nay, they were not subjected to so many distempers and
uneasinesses, either of body or mind, as those were who, by vicious
living, luxury, and extravagances on the one hand, or by hard
labour, want of necessaries, and mean or insufficient diet on the
other hand, bring distemper upon themselves by the natural
consequences of their way of living; that the middle station of
life was calculated for all kind of virtue and all kind of
enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the handmaids of a middle
fortune; that temperance, moderation, quietness, health, society,
all agreeable diversions, and all desirable pleasures, were the
blessings attending the middle station of life; that this way men
went silently and smoothly through the world, and comfortably out
of it, not embarrassed with the labours of the hands or of the
head, not sold to a life of slavery for daily bread, nor harassed
with perplexed circumstances, which rob the soul of peace and the
body of rest, nor enraged with the passion of envy, or the secret
burning lust of ambition for great things; but, in easy
circumstances, sliding gently through the world, and sensibly
tasting the sweets of living, without the bitter; feeling that they
are happy, and learning by every day's experience to know it more
sensibly,

After this he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affectionate
manner, not to play the young man, nor to precipitate myself into
miseries which nature, and the station of life I was born in,
seemed to have provided against; that I was under no necessity of
seeking my bread; that he would do well for me, and endeavour to
enter me fairly into the station of life which he had just been
recommending to me; and that if I was not very easy and happy in
the world, it must be my mere fate or fault that must hinder it;
and that he should have nothing to answer for, having thus
discharged his duty in warning me against measures which he knew
would be to my hurt; in a word, that as he would do very kind
things for me if I would stay and settle at home as he directed, so
he would not have so much hand in my misfortunes as to give me any
encouragement to go away; and to close all, he told me I had my
elder brother for an example, to whom he had used the same earnest
persuasions to keep him from going into the Low Country wars, but
could not prevail, his young desires prompting him to run into the
army, where he was killed; and though he said he would not cease to
pray for me, yet he would venture to say to me, that if I did take
this foolish step, God would not bless me, and I should have
leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel when
there might be none to assist in my recovery.

I observed in this last part of his discourse, which was truly
prophetic, though I suppose my father did not know it to be so
himself - I say, I observed the tears run down his face very
plentifully, especially when he spoke of my brother who was killed:
and that when he spoke of my having leisure to repent, and none to
assist me, he was so moved that he broke off the discourse, and
told me his heart was so full he could say no more to me.

I was sincerely affected with this discourse, and, indeed, who
could be otherwise? and I resolved not to think of going abroad any
more, but to settle at home according to my father's desire. But
alas! a few days wore it all off; and, in short, to prevent any of
my father's further importunities, in a few weeks after I resolved
to run quite away from him. However, I did not act quite so
hastily as the first heat of my resolution prompted; but I took my
mother at a time when I thought her a little more pleasant than
ordinary, and told her that my thoughts were so entirely bent upon
seeing the world that I should never settle to anything with
resolution enough to go through with it, and my father had better
give me his consent than force me to go without it; that I was now
eighteen years old, which was too late to go apprentice to a trade
or clerk to an attorney; that I was sure if I did I should never
serve out my time, but I should certainly run away from my master
before my time was out, and go to sea; and if she would speak to my
father to let me go one voyage abroad, if I came home again, and
did not like it, I would go no more; and I would promise, by a
double diligence, to recover the time that I had lost.

This put my mother into a great passion; she told me she knew it
would be to no purpose to speak to my father upon any such subject;
that he knew too well what was my interest to give his consent to
anything so much for my hurt; and that she wondered how I could
think of any such thing after the discourse I had had with my
father, and such kind and tender expressions as she knew my father
had used to me; and that, in short, if I would ruin myself, there
was no help for me; but I might depend I should never have their
consent to it; that for her part she would not have so much hand in
my destruction; and I should never have it to say that my mother
was willing when my father was not.

Though my mother refused to move it to my father, yet I heard
afterwards that she reported all the discourse to him, and that my
father, after showing a great concern at it, said to her, with a
sigh, "That boy might be happy if he would stay at home; but if he
goes abroad, he will be the most miserable wretch that ever was
born: I can give no consent to it."

It was not till almost a year after this that I broke loose,
though, in the meantime, I continued obstinately deaf to all
proposals of settling to business, and frequently expostulated with
my father and mother about their being so positively determined
against what they knew my inclinations prompted me to. But being
one day at Hull, where I went casually, and without any purpose of
making an elopement at that time; but, I say, being there, and one
of my companions being about to sail to London in his father's
ship, and prompting me to go with them with the common allurement
of seafaring men, that it should cost me nothing for my passage, I
consulted neither father nor mother any more, nor so much as sent
them word of it; but leaving them to hear of it as they might,
without asking God's blessing or my father's, without any
consideration of circumstances or consequences, and in an ill hour,
God knows, on the 1st of September 1651, I went on board a ship
bound for London. Never any young adventurer's misfortunes, I
believe, began sooner, or continued longer than mine. The ship was
no sooner out of the Humber than the wind began to blow and the sea
to rise in a most frightful manner; and, as I had never been at sea
before, I was most inexpressibly sick in body and terrified in
mind. I began now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and
how justly I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for my wicked
leaving my father's house, and abandoning my duty. All the good
counsels of my parents, my father's tears and my mother's
entreaties, came now fresh into my mind; and my conscience, which
was not yet come to the pitch of hardness to which it has since,
reproached me with the contempt of advice, and the breach of my
duty to God and my father.

All this while the storm increased, and the sea went very high,
though nothing like what I have seen many times since; no, nor what
I saw a few days after; but it was enough to affect me then, who
was but a young sailor, and had never known anything of the matter.
I expected every wave would have swallowed us up, and that every
time the ship fell down, as I thought it did, in the trough or
hollow of the sea, we should never rise more; in this agony of
mind, I made many vows and resolutions that if it would please God
to spare my life in this one voyage, if ever I got once my foot
upon dry land again, I would go directly home to my father, and
never set it into a ship again while I lived; that I would take his
advice, and never run myself into such miseries as these any more.
Now I saw plainly the goodness of his observations about the middle
station of life, how easy, how comfortably he had lived all his
days, and never had been exposed to tempests at sea or troubles on
shore; and I resolved that I would, like a true repenting prodigal,
go home to my father.

These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm
lasted, and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind was
abated, and the sea calmer, and I began to be a little inured to
it; however, I was very grave for all that day, being also a little
sea-sick still; but towards night the weather cleared up, the wind
was quite over, and a charming fine evening followed; the sun went
down perfectly clear, and rose so the next morning; and having
little or no wind, and a smooth sea, the sun shining upon it, the
sight was, as I thought, the most delightful that ever I saw.

I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick, but
very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough
and terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant
in so little a time after. And now, lest my good resolutions
should continue, my companion, who had enticed me away, comes to
me; "Well, Bob," says he, clapping me upon the shoulder, "how do
you do after it? I warrant you were frighted, wer'n't you, last
night, when it blew but a capful of wind?" "A capful d'you call
it?" said I; "'twas a terrible storm." "A storm, you fool you,"
replies he; "do you call that a storm? why, it was nothing at all;
give us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such
a squall of wind as that; but you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob.
Come, let us make a bowl of punch, and we'll forget all that; d'ye
see what charming weather 'tis now?" To make short this sad part
of my story, we went the way of all sailors; the punch was made and
I was made half drunk with it: and in that one night's wickedness I
drowned all my repentance, all my reflections upon my past conduct,
all my resolutions for the future. In a word, as the sea was
returned to its smoothness of surface and settled calmness by the
abatement of that storm, so the hurry of my thoughts being over, my
fears and apprehensions of being swallowed up by the sea being
forgotten, and the current of my former desires returned, I
entirely forgot the vows and promises that I made in my distress.
I found, indeed, some intervals of reflection; and the serious
thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes; but
I shook them off, and roused myself from them as it were from a
distemper, and applying myself to drinking and company, soon
mastered the return of those fits - for so I called them; and I had
in five or six days got as complete a victory over conscience as
any young fellow that resolved not to be troubled with it could
desire. But I was to have another trial for it still; and
Providence, as in such cases generally it does, resolved to leave
me entirely without excuse; for if I would not take this for a
deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the worst and most
hardened wretch among us would confess both the danger and the
mercy of.

The sixth day of our being at sea we came into Yarmouth Roads; the
wind having been contrary and the weather calm, we had made but
little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to an
anchor, and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary - viz. at
south-west - for seven or eight days, during which time a great
many ships from Newcastle came into the same Roads, as the common
harbour where the ships might wait for a wind for the river.

We had not, however, rid here so long but we should have tided it
up the river, but that the wind blew too fresh, and after we had
lain four or five days, blew very hard. However, the Roads being
reckoned as good as a harbour, the anchorage good, and our ground-
tackle very strong, our men were unconcerned, and not in the least
apprehensive of danger, but spent the time in rest and mirth, after
the manner of the sea; but the eighth day, in the morning, the wind
increased, and we had all hands at work to strike our topmasts, and
make everything snug and close, that the ship might ride as easy as
possible. By noon the sea went very high indeed, and our ship rode
forecastle in, shipped several seas, and we thought once or twice
our anchor had come home; upon which our master ordered out the
sheet-anchor, so that we rode with two anchors ahead, and the
cables veered out to the bitter end.

By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed; and now I began to
see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen
themselves. The master, though vigilant in the business of
preserving the ship, yet as he went in and out of his cabin by me,
I could hear him softly to himself say, several times, "Lord be
merciful to us! we shall be all lost! we shall be all undone!" and
the like. During these first hurries I was stupid, lying still in
my cabin, which was in the steerage, and cannot describe my temper:
I could ill resume the first penitence which I had so apparently
trampled upon and hardened myself against: I thought the bitterness
of death had been past, and that this would be nothing like the
first; but when the master himself came by me, as I said just now,
and said we should be all lost, I was dreadfully frighted. I got
up out of my cabin and looked out; but such a dismal sight I never
saw: the sea ran mountains high, and broke upon us every three or
four minutes; when I could look about, I could see nothing but
distress round us; two ships that rode near us, we found, had cut
their masts by the board, being deep laden; and our men cried out
that a ship which rode about a mile ahead of us was foundered. Two
more ships, being driven from their anchors, were run out of the
Roads to sea, at all adventures, and that with not a mast standing.
The light ships fared the best, as not so much labouring in the
sea; but two or three of them drove, and came close by us, running
away with only their spritsail out before the wind.

Towards evening the mate and boatswain begged the master of our
ship to let them cut away the fore-mast, which he was very
unwilling to do; but the boatswain protesting to him that if he did
not the ship would founder, he consented; and when they had cut
away the fore-mast, the main-mast stood so loose, and shook the
ship so much, they were obliged to cut that away also, and make a
clear deck.

Any one may judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who
was but a young sailor, and who had been in such a fright before at
but a little. But if I can express at this distance the thoughts I
had about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind
upon account of my former convictions, and the having returned from
them to the resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was
at death itself; and these, added to the terror of the storm, put
me into such a condition that I can by no words describe it. But
the worst was not come yet; the storm continued with such fury that
the seamen themselves acknowledged they had never seen a worse. We
had a good ship, but she was deep laden, and wallowed in the sea,
so that the seamen every now and then cried out she would founder.
It was my advantage in one respect, that I did not know what they
meant by FOUNDER till I inquired. However, the storm was so
violent that I saw, what is not often seen, the master, the
boatswain, and some others more sensible than the rest, at their
prayers, and expecting every moment when the ship would go to the
bottom. In the middle of the night, and under all the rest of our
distresses, one of the men that had been down to see cried out we
had sprung a leak; another said there was four feet water in the
hold. Then all hands were called to the pump. At that word, my
heart, as I thought, died within me: and I fell backwards upon the
side of my bed where I sat, into the cabin. However, the men
roused me, and told me that I, that was able to do nothing before,
was as well able to pump as another; at which I stirred up and went
to the pump, and worked very heartily. While this was doing the
master, seeing some light colliers, who, not able to ride out the
storm were obliged to slip and run away to sea, and would come near
us, ordered to fire a gun as a signal of distress. I, who knew
nothing what they meant, thought the ship had broken, or some
dreadful thing happened. In a word, I was so surprised that I fell
down in a swoon. As this was a time when everybody had his own
life to think of, nobody minded me, or what was become of me; but
another man stepped up to the pump, and thrusting me aside with his
foot, let me lie, thinking I had been dead; and it was a great
while before I came to myself.

We worked on; but the water increasing in the hold, it was apparent
that the ship would founder; and though the storm began to abate a
little, yet it was not possible she could swim till we might run
into any port; so the master continued firing guns for help; and a
light ship, who had rid it out just ahead of us, ventured a boat
out to help us. It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near
us; but it was impossible for us to get on board, or for the boat
to lie near the ship's side, till at last the men rowing very
heartily, and venturing their lives to save ours, our men cast them
a rope over the stern with a buoy to it, and then veered it out a
great length, which they, after much labour and hazard, took hold
of, and we hauled them close under our stern, and got all into
their boat. It was to no purpose for them or us, after we were in
the boat, to think of reaching their own ship; so all agreed to let
her drive, and only to pull her in towards shore as much as we
could; and our master promised them, that if the boat was staved
upon shore, he would make it good to their master: so partly rowing
and partly driving, our boat went away to the northward, sloping
towards the shore almost as far as Winterton Ness.

We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship
till we saw her sink, and then I understood for the first time what
was meant by a ship foundering in the sea. I must acknowledge I
had hardly eyes to look up when the seamen told me she was sinking;
for from the moment that they rather put me into the boat than that
I might be said to go in, my heart was, as it were, dead within me,
partly with fright, partly with horror of mind, and the thoughts of
what was yet before me.

While we were in this condition - the men yet labouring at the oar
to bring the boat near the shore - we could see (when, our boat
mounting the waves, we were able to see the shore) a great many
people running along the strand to assist us when we should come
near; but we made but slow way towards the shore; nor were we able
to reach the shore till, being past the lighthouse at Winterton,
the shore falls off to the westward towards Cromer, and so the land
broke off a little the violence of the wind. Here we got in, and
though not without much difficulty, got all safe on shore, and
walked afterwards on foot to Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men,
we were used with great humanity, as well by the magistrates of the
town, who assigned us good quarters, as by particular merchants and
owners of ships, and had money given us sufficient to carry us
either to London or back to Hull as we thought fit.

Had I now had the sense to have gone back to Hull, and have gone
home, I had been happy, and my father, as in our blessed Saviour's
parable, had even killed the fatted calf for me; for hearing the
ship I went away in was cast away in Yarmouth Roads, it was a great
while before he had any assurances that I was not drowned.

But my ill fate pushed me on now with an obstinacy that nothing
could resist; and though I had several times loud calls from my
reason and my more composed judgment to go home, yet I had no power
to do it. I know not what to call this, nor will I urge that it is
a secret overruling decree, that hurries us on to be the
instruments of our own destruction, even though it be before us,
and that we rush upon it with our eyes open. Certainly, nothing
but some such decreed unavoidable misery, which it was impossible
for me to escape, could have pushed me forward against the calm
reasonings and persuasions of my most retired thoughts, and against
two such visible instructions as I had met with in my first
attempt.

My comrade, who had helped to harden me before, and who was the
master's son, was now less forward than I. The first time he spoke
to me after we were at Yarmouth, which was not till two or three
days, for we were separated in the town to several quarters; I say,
the first time he saw me, it appeared his tone was altered; and,
looking very melancholy, and shaking his head, he asked me how I
did, and telling his father who I was, and how I had come this
voyage only for a trial, in order to go further abroad, his father,
turning to me with a very grave and concerned tone "Young man,"
says he, "you ought never to go to sea any more; you ought to take
this for a plain and visible token that you are not to be a
seafaring man." "Why, sir," said I, "will you go to sea no more?"
"That is another case," said he; "it is my calling, and therefore
my duty; but as you made this voyage on trial, you see what a taste
Heaven has given you of what you are to expect if you persist.
Perhaps this has all befallen us on your account, like Jonah in the
ship of Tarshish. Pray," continues he, "what are you; and on what
account did you go to sea?" Upon that I told him some of my story;
at the end of which he burst out into a strange kind of passion:
"What had I done," says he, "that such an unhappy wretch should
come into my ship? I would not set my foot in the same ship with
thee again for a thousand pounds." This indeed was, as I said, an
excursion of his spirits, which were yet agitated by the sense of
his loss, and was farther than he could have authority to go.
However, he afterwards talked very gravely to me, exhorting me to
go back to my father, and not tempt Providence to my ruin, telling
me I might see a visible hand of Heaven against me. "And, young
man," said he, "depend upon it, if you do not go back, wherever you
go, you will meet with nothing but disasters and disappointments,
till your father's words are fulfilled upon you."

We parted soon after; for I made him little answer, and I saw him
no more; which way he went I knew not. As for me, having some
money in my pocket, I travelled to London by land; and there, as
well as on the road, had many struggles with myself what course of
life I should take, and whether I should go home or to sea.

As to going home, shame opposed the best motions that offered to my
thoughts, and it immediately occurred to me how I should be laughed
at among the neighbours, and should be ashamed to see, not my
father and mother only, but even everybody else; from whence I have
since often observed, how incongruous and irrational the common
temper of mankind is, especially of youth, to that reason which
ought to guide them in such cases - viz. that they are not ashamed
to sin, and yet are ashamed to repent; not ashamed of the action
for which they ought justly to be esteemed fools, but are ashamed
of the returning, which only can make them be esteemed wise men.

In this state of life, however, I remained some time, uncertain
what measures to take, and what course of life to lead. An
irresistible reluctance continued to going home; and as I stayed
away a while, the remembrance of the distress I had been in wore
off, and as that abated, the little motion I had in my desires to
return wore off with it, till at last I quite laid aside the
thoughts of it, and looked out for a voyage.

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