ld have been comparatively merciful; but a long,
lingering, and painful death was chosen for them. The imagination turns
with intense and fearful interest to the scene. The form of the
commander is before us, bound hand and foot, condescending to no
supplication to the mutineers, but calling in vain for assistance from
those who would gladly have helped him, but who were overpowered by
numbers, or disabled by sickness. The cry of the suffering and dying
rings in our ears, as they are dragged from their beds, to be exposed to
the inclemencies of the ice-covered sea in an open boat. Among them
appears the young son of Hudson, whose tender years can wake no
compassion in the cold-blooded murderers.[3]

[Footnote 3: It is impossible to tell very much about this young son of
Henry Hudson. In some accounts he is said to be but a lad of seven
years old, but as he appears in the journal of the voyage as a sailor,
it is probable that he was much older. He had accompanied his
father on two of his earlier voyages and possibly on the third.]

We refrain from following them, even in fancy, through their sufferings
after they are separated from the ship; their days and nights of agony,
their cry of distress, and the frenzy of starvation, their hopes of
relief defeated, their despair, and their raving as death comes on. Over
these awful scenes the hand of God has hung a veil, which hides them
from us forever. Let us not seek to penetrate, even in imagination, the
terrors which it conceals.

How far Pricket's account, in regard to the course pursued by Hudson, is
worthy of confidence, must be left to conjecture. It should be
remembered, however, that Pricket was not free from the suspicion of
having been in some degree implicated in the conspiracy, and that his
narrative was designed in part as a vindication of himself. The
indiscreet severity charged upon Hudson, and the hasty temper he is
represented to have shown, in embroiling himself with his men, for
apparently trifling reasons, are not consistent with the moderation,
good sense, and equanimity, with which his conduct had been marked in
all his preceding voyages. It is moreover hardly credible, that, knowing
as he did the mutinous spirit of some of the crew he should so rashly
inflame this spirit, at a time when he was surrounded by imminent
dangers, and when his safety depended on the united support of all the
men under his command. Hence, whatever reliance may be placed on th