The Moravians in Georgia HTML version

Chapter 6. Disintegration
Spangenberg's Visit.
After Spangenberg had decided not to comply with the request contained in the letter
from Savannah, but to stay and prosecute the work among the Schwenkfelders, where a
door seemed to be opening, he became conscious of a feeling of uneasiness, an
impression that he was needed in Georgia. This was increased by news of the expected
Spanish outbreak, for so general was the alarm that all the war-ships in the northern
harbors were ordered to Carolina, and the selling of supplies to the Spaniards was
absolutely prohibited.
At this point George Neisser and Benjamin Ingham came, bringing word of the pressure
on the Moravians, their decision to leave Georgia as soon as it could be arranged, and
their request that Spangenberg should go to England with Ingham to see the Trustees, and
secure their consent. Of this plan Spangenberg did not approve, for he thought the war
would ruin everything, or else the danger would be over, before he could make the long
journey to England, and return. Ingham professed himself ready to carry letters to the
Trustees, and do his best to influence them to grant the Moravian requests, so
Spangenberg decided to entrust that errand to him, and himself go at once to Georgia, to
see whether he could not help matters there.
John Eckstein, a resident of Germantown, a middle-aged man who was in entire
sympathy with Spangenberg's plans for religious work in Pennsylvania, resolved to
accompany him on his trip to Georgia. They sailed from Philadelphia on the 22nd of
May, 1737, and had a long and very trying voyage. The Captain and crew were evil men,
given to cursing and swearing, and more than once they threatened to murder the two
passengers, whom they called sorcerers, and accused of bringing the continuous head
winds and frequent storms upon them. Seventy-seven long days the voyage lasted; twice
they sailed southward past Cape Hatteras, and twice were they driven back to north and
east, taking weeks to recover the distance lost; and the Captain finally discovered that not
only were the elements against him, but his helmsman was slyly hindering their progress
all he could, for some malicious purpose of his own.
To the mental strain of the long journey was added physical discomfort, for firewood
gave out, so that no cooking could be done, and for a month the crew lived on hard tack,
dried cherries soaked in water, and raw fish, -- dolphins caught as need required.
Spangenberg and his companion had brought provisions to supplement the ship's fare, but
long before the voyage was ended their store of butter and sugar was exhausted. Dried
ham and tongue had a tendency to increase their thirst, but by soaking tea in cold water
they made a beverage which bore at least a fancied resemblance to that brewed on shore.
Then the supply of water ran low, each man's allowance was reduced to a pint a day, and
even this small amount would have failed had they not been able occasionally to catch
rainwater to replenish their casks. The Captain at last opened a keg of beer found in his