The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and
Piracy, by Anonymous
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Title: Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy
A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from
the earliest part of the century to the present time, with
accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending
fatalities
Author: Anonymous
Release Date: July 6, 2008 [EBook #25982]
Language: English
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THRILLING NARRATIVES
OF
MUTINY, MURDER AND PIRACY,
A WEIRD SERIES OF
Tales of Shipwreck and Disaster,
FROM THE EARLIEST PART OF THE CENTURY TO THE PRESENT TIME,
WITH ACCOUNTS OF
Providential Escapes
AND
HEART-RENDING FATALITIES.
NEW YORK:
HURST & CO., PUBLISHERS,
122 NASSAU ST.
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
Shipwreck may be ranked among the greatest evils which man can
experience. It is never void of danger, frequently of fatal issue, and
invariably productive of regret. It is one against which there is the
least resource, where patience, fortitude and ingenuity are in most
cases, unavailing, except to protract a struggle with destiny, which,
at length, proves irresistible.
But amidst the myriads unceasingly swallowed up by the deep, it is not
by the numbers that we are to judge of the miseries endured. Hundreds
may at once meet an instantaneous fate, hardly conscious of its
approach, while a few individuals may linger out existence, daily in
hope of succor, and at length be compelled to the horrible alternative
of preying on each other for the support of life. Neither is it by the
Narratives about to be given that we are to calculate on the frequency
of shipwreck. It is an event that has been of constant occurrence
since a period long anterior to what the earliest records can reach.
In England it is calculated that about 5000 natives of the British
Isles yearly perish at sea.
This perpetual exposure to peril, however, materially contributes to
the formation of character, and hence are sailors preeminently
distinguished by courage, endurance, and ready invention. Habituated
to the instability of the ocean, they make little account of danger,
and are invariably the first in matters of the most daring
enterprise. Incessantly subjected to toil, they labor long and
patiently without murmur, and the prompt and vigorous measures which
are indispensable to their security, teach them the immediate
application of whatever means are within their power.
A natural desire to know the fate of their fellow creatures seems
implanted in the breast of mankind, and the most powerful sympathies
are excited by listening to the misfortunes of the innocent. To record
some impressive examples of calamity, or unlooked for deliverance, is
the object of these pages; and it will be seen of what astonishing
advantage are the virtues of decision, temperance, perseverance and
unwavering hope in moments of extreme peril and despair.
CONTENTS.
Page
Adventures of Capt. Woodward and Five Seamen in the
island of Celebes, 7
An Occurrence at sea, 14
Loss of H. B. M ship Phoenix, off Cuba, 16
An account of the Whale Fishery, with anecdotes of the
dangers attending it, 30
Loss of the Brig Tyrrel, 49
Loss of the Peggy, 58
Loss of H. B. M. ship Litchfield, 64
Wreck of the Rothsay Castle Steamer, 74
Loss of the French ship Droits de L'Homme, 78
Loss of H. B. M. ship Queen Charlotte, 82
A Scene on the Atlantic Ocean, 84
Wreck of the French Frigate Medusa, on the Arguin Bank, 87
Loss of the Royal George, 146
Loss of the Æneas, transport, 148
The Absent Ship, 152
Loss of the Halsewell, East Indiaman, 155
An account of Four Russians, abandoned on the Island
of East Spitzbergen, 166
Loss of the Amphitrite, Female Convict Ship, 173
The Mutineers, a Tale of the Sea, 176
Fate of Seven Sailors, left on the island of St.
Maurice, 182
Seamen wintering in Spitzbergen, 185
A Man Overboard, 190
An Escape through the Cabin-Windows, 192
Tom Cringle's Log, 197
Loss of the Nautilus, Sloop of War, 201
Wreck of a Slave Ship, 212
The Wrecked Seamen, 213
Adventures of Philip Ashton, 219
Explosion of H. B. M. ship Amphion, 220
Loss of H. B. M. ship La Tribune, 245
Burning of the Prince, a French East Indiaman, 250
Wreck of the Schooner Betsey, 259
Early American Heroism, 262
Fingal's Cave, 264
Loss of H. B. M. ship Ramillies, 267
Preservation of Nine Seamen, 276
Capt. Ross's Expedition, 281
Loss of the Catharine, Venus, and Piedmont, transports,
and three Merchant Ships, 288
Wreck of the Ship Sidney, 298
Loss of the Duke William, transport, 303
Commodore Barney, 320
Naval Battles of the United States, 324
Address to the Ocean, 336
THE
BOOK OF THE OCEAN.
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN WOODWARD AND FIVE SEAMEN IN THE ISLAND OF
CELEBES.
In the year 1791, Woodward sailed from Boston in the ship Robert
Morris, Captain Hay, for the East Indies. On his arrival there he was
employed in making country voyages until the 20th of January, when he
sailed as chief-mate in an American ship from Batavia bound to
Manilla.
In passing through the straits of Macassar, they found the wind and
current both against them, and after beating up for six weeks they
fell short of provision. Captain Woodward and five seamen were sent to
purchase some from a vessel about four leagues distant. They were
without water, provisions, or compass,--having on board only an axe, a
boat hook, two penknives, a useless gun and forty dollars in cash.
They reached the ship at sunset, and were told by the captain that he
had no provision to spare as he was bound to China and was victualled
for only one month. He advised them to stay until morning, which they
did. But when morning dawned, their own ship was out of sight even
from the mast head, and with a fair wind for her to go through the
straits of Macassar. Being treated coolly by the captain, they agreed
with one voice to leave the ship in search of their own. On leaving
the vessel, the captain gave them twelve musket cartridges and a round
bottle of brandy, but neither water nor provision of any sort.
They rowed till twelve o'clock at night, in hopes of seeing their own
vessel, and then drawing near an island they thought it prudent to go
there to get some fresh water.--They landed and made a large fire in
hopes their ship might see it. But not being able to see any thing of
her in the morning and finding no water or provisions on the island,
they continued their course in the middle of the straits six days
longer, without going on shore or tasting of any thing but brandy.
They soon had the shore of Celebes in sight, where they determined to
go in search of provisions and then to proceed to Macassar.
As they approached the shore they saw two proas full of natives, who
immediately put themselves in a posture of defence. The sailors made
signs to them that they wanted provisions, but instead of giving it
the Malays began to brandish their cresses or steel daggers. Three of
the men jumped on board a proa to beg some Indian corn, and got three
or four small ears. The chief seemed quite friendly and agreed to sell
captain Woodward two cocoa nuts for a dollar, but as soon as he had
received the money, he immediately began to strip him in search of
more. Captain Woodward defended himself with a hatchet and ordered the
boat to be shoved off, the chief levelled a musket at him, but
fortunately it missed him.
They then stood off, went round a point of land and landed out of
sight of the proas, when they found a plenty of cocoa nut trees.
Captain Woodward while engaged in cutting them down, heard the man
whom he had left to take care of the boat, scream out in a most bitter
manner. He ran immediately to the beach where he saw his own boat off
at some distance full of Malays and the poor fellow who guarded it
lying on his back with his throat cut, and his body stabbed in several
places.
They now fled immediately to the mountains, and finding that they had
lost their boat, money, and most of their clothes, they concluded that
their only chance of escape was to get to Macassar by land. Being
afraid to travel in the day time they set out in the evening, taking a
star for their guide bearing south. But they soon lost sight of the
star and at daylight found themselves within a few rods of the place,
where they had set out. They had travelled on the side of a mountain,
and had gone quite round it instead of going straight over it. They
started again and travelled by the sea shore six nights successively,
living on berries and water found in the hollows of trees.
On the sixth they arrived at a bay where they saw a party of the Malays
fishing. Here Captain Woodward found some yellowish berries which were
to him quite palatable, but his men not liking them eat some of the
leaves. On the next day they concluded to make a raft and go to the
small island on which they first landed, thinking that they might be
taken off from it by some ship passing that way. But they were obliged
to abandon this project, for in the evening the men who had eaten the
leaves, were attacked with violent pains and were crying out in torture
during the whole night.--Although they got better towards evening yet
they were so weak and dejected that Captain Woodward was convinced that
they could not reach the island and asked them if they were willing to
surrender themselves to the Malays. On reflection they all thought this
the best course which they could take; and forthwith proceeded to the
bay where they had seen the Malays in the morning, in order at once
either to find friends or to meet their fate. At first they saw no one,
but Captain Woodward soon saw three of the natives approaching him; and
ordering his men to keep quiet, he advanced alone until he had come
within a short distance of them, where they stopped and drew out their
cresses or knives.--Captain Woodward fell on his knees and begged for
mercy. The Malays looked at him for about ten minutes with their knives
drawn, when one of them came towards him, knelt in the same manner and
offered both his hands. More natives now came up and stripped them of
their hats and handkerchiefs and even the buttons on their jackets,
which they took for money.
They were now taken to Travalla and carried to the court-house or
judgment hall, accompanied by a great concourse of people, including
women and children who made a circle at some distance from them. The
chief soon entered, looking as wild as a madman, carrying in his hand
a large drawn cress or knife, the blade of which was two feet and half
long and very bright. Captain Woodward approached so near to him as to
place the foot of the chief on his own head, as a token that he was
completely under his power and direction. The chief after holding a
short consultation, returned to his house and brought out five pieces
of betel nut, which he gave to the sailors as a token of friendship.
They were now permitted to rest until about eight o'clock when they
were carried to the Rajah's house, where they found a supper provided
for them of sago-bread and peas, but in all hardly enough for one man.
Their allowance afterwards was for each man a cocoa nut and an ear of
Indian corn at noon, and the same at night. In this manner they lived
about twenty days, but were not allowed to go out except to the water
to bathe. The natives soon began to relax their vigilance over them,
and in about four months, they were conveyed to the head Rajah of
Parlow. They had not been there long when the head Rajah sent to a
Dutch port called Priggia, which is at the head of a deep bay on the
east side of the island and which is under the care of a commandant
who was a Frenchman, and had been thirty years in the Dutch service.
He arrived at Parlow and sent for Capt. Woodward. He wished him to go
with him to Priggia where he resided, but Captain Woodward refused,
being apprehensive that he should be forced into the Dutch service.
The commandant then enquired where he intended to go. He answered to
Batavia or Macassar and thence to Bengal. He did not offer Captain
Woodward or his people either money, assistance, or clothes, but
seemed quite affronted.
The Rajah now gave him the liberty of returning to Travalla, taking
care, however, to send him in the night for fear that he should get
sight of Dungally, where there lived a Mahomedan priest called Juan
Hadgee. This priest had been at Travalla, and offered a ransom for
Captain Woodward and his men, but the natives were unwilling to take
it, and were fearful that their captives would try to escape to the
town where the priest lived. It happened however, that they were
becalmed off Dungally, so that Captain Woodward could observe its
situation. On arriving at Travalla, he attempted to escape alone by
water, but the canoe being leaky, he came very near losing his life.
But not discouraged, he started immediately for Dungally by land, and
reached it just as the day dawned.
Juan Hadgee received him kindly and provided him with food and
clothing. In the course of three days the chief of Travalla learning
that he had gone to Dungally, sent after him, but the old priest and
the Rajah of Dungally refused to let him go. They told him that in the
course of three months they would convey him to Batavia or Macassar,
and also desired him to send for the four men he had left at
Travalla.--This he did by means of a letter which he wrote with a pen
of bamboo, and sent by the captain of a proa, who delivered it
secretly. The men made their escape from Parlow at the time of a
feast, early in the evening, and arrived at Dungally at twelve o'clock
the next day. They were received with great rejoicing by the natives,
who immediately brought them plenty of victuals. And this fortunate
circumstance revived their hopes of reaching some European settlement,
after many narrow escapes and difficulties.
Juan Hadgee now informed Capt. Woodward that he should set off in
about two months, but that he must first make a short voyage for
provisions, which he did, leaving Captain Woodward in his house with
his wife and two servants.
They soon began to suffer exceedingly for the want of provisions, so
that the natives were obliged to convey them up the country, there to
be supplied by some of the same tribe, who regularly went from the
village into the country at a certain season to cultivate rice and
Indian corn. But the Rajah of Parlow making war on the Rajah of
Dungally, because the latter would not deliver them up, they were soon
brought back to Dungally. There was but one engagement, and then the
men of Parlow were beaten and driven back to their own town.
Provisions again growing scarce, Juan Hadgee was bound for another
port called Sawyah, situated about two degrees north of the line. He
gave Captain Woodward permission to accompany him, provided the Rajah
was willing, but the latter refused, saying that he must stay there
and keep guard. Captain Woodward now mustered his men, and taking
their guns they went to the house of the Rajah and told him they would
stand guard no longer for they wished to go to Macassar. He
immediately replied that they should not. Being determined not to live
longer in this manner, and finding no other means of escaping, Captain
Woodward came to the resolution of stealing a canoe, to which all the
men agreed. They were lucky enough to obtain one and seemed in a fair
way to make their escape, but just as they were getting into it they
were surrounded by about twenty natives and carried before the Rajah,
who ordered them to account for their conduct. They told him that they
could get nothing to eat, and were determined to quit the place on the
first opportunity that offered. Nothing of consequence resulted from
this.--Knowing the language and people they had now become fearless of
danger.
The Rajah refusing to let them go with Juan Hadgee they determined to
run away with him, which they were enabled to do, as the old man set
out at twelve o'clock at night, and there happened luckily to be a
canoe on the beach near his own.--This they took and followed him as
well as they could, but they soon parted from him, and in the morning
discovered a proa close by them filled with Malays. They told them
that they were bound with the old man to Sawyah. The Malays took them
at their word and carried them there instead of to Dungally, which was
a lucky escape to them for that time.--Whilst residing at Sawyah the
old priest carried Captain Woodward to an island in the bay of Sawyah,
which he granted to him, and in compliment called it Steersman's
Island, steersman being the appellation by which Captain Woodward was
distinguished by the natives. After staying some time in Sawyah and
making sago, which they bartered for fish and cocoa-nuts, they left
the place and proceeded to Dumpolis, a little to the southward of
Sawyah. Juan Hadgee soon left the place for Tomboo about a day's sail
south, where he had business. Here Captain Woodward and his men also
followed him. The old priest was willing to assist them to escape from
here, but was evidently unable to do it. Tomboo being under the
direction of the Rajah of Dungally.
Fortunately they succeeded in stealing a canoe in the night, and once
more shoving off, they directed their course to a small island in the
bay, where they landed at daybreak. Not being able to find water here
as they expected, they landed at another point of land, which they
knew to be uninhabited.--Having obtained water and repaired their
canoe, they directed their course to Macassar, which was then about
five degrees to the southward. After coasting along the island for the
space of eight days, during which time they were twice very nearly
taken by the Malays, they arrived at a part of the island of Celebes,
which was very thickly inhabited.
They passed many towns and saw many proas within the harbors. Having
observed a retired place, they landed to procure some fresh water, but
they had hardly got a draught each, when two canoes were seen coming
to the very place where they were. They immediately shoved off and
kept on their course all day. Just as the sun went down they
discovered two canoes not far from them fishing. As soon as the
natives saw them they made the best of their way to the shore. Captain
Woodward wished to inquire the distance to Macassar, but not being
able to stop them he made for one of two canoes which he saw at a
distance lying at anchor. Being told that the captain was below and
asleep he went down and awakened him. He came on deck with three or
four men all armed with spears, and inquired where they were going.
Captain Woodward told him to Macassar and inquired of him the distance
to that place. He answered that it would take a month and a day to
reach it. Captain Woodward told him it was not true and made the best
of his way off. The Malays however made chase, but Captain Woodward
and his men by putting out to sea and making great exertion, soon lost
sight of them and were able again to stand in towards the land.
At daylight they discovered a number of fishing canoes, two of which
made towards them. They let them come alongside as there was only one
man in each. One of them came on board and Captain Woodward put the
same question to him respecting Macassar. He first said it would take
thirty days to reach there and asked them to go on shore and see the
Rajah. But they declined doing this, and he afterwards acknowledged
that a proa could go there in two days.
They then left the canoe and sailed along the coast. At evening they
perceived a proa full of Malay men set off from the shore. It was soon
along side, and four of them jumping into the boat nearly upset her,
and thus Captain Woodward and his men were again prisoners of the
Malays. They were carried to a town called Pamboon and then conducted
to the Rajah's house. The Rajah demanded of them whence they came and
whither they were going. Captain Woodward answered the same as before;
he also told him that they must go immediately, and must not be
stopped. They had now become so familiar with dangers and with
captures, and were also so much nearer Macassar, than they could have
expected after so many narrow escapes, that they became more and more
desperate and confident, from the persuasion that they should at last
reach their destined port.
In the morning Captain Woodward again waited on the Rajah, and begged
to be sent to Macassar; telling him that the Governor had sent for
them, who would stop all his proas at Macassar if he detained them.
After thinking on it a short time, he called the captain of a proa,
and delivered the prisoners to him, telling him to carry them to
Macassar, and if he could get anything for them to take it, but if not
to let them go. The proa not being ready they stayed in the canoe
three days, quite overcome by their many hardships and fatigues.
Captain Woodward having had no shirt, the sun had burnt his shoulder
so as to lay it quite bare and produce a bad sore. Here he caught
cold, and was attacked with a violent fever, so that by the time the
proa was ready to sail he was unable to stand. He was carried and laid
on the deck without a mat or any kind of clothing. The cold nights and
frequent showers of rain would without doubt have killed him, had he
not been kept alive by the hopes of reaching Macassar, the thoughts of
which kept up all their spirits.
They landed at Macassar on the 15th of June 1795, after a voyage of
about nineteen days from Tomboo, and after having been two years and
five months in captivity; the reckoning which Captain Woodward kept
during that time, being wrong only one day.
AN OCCURRENCE AT SEA.
In June, 1824, I embarked at Liverpool on board the Vibelia transport
with the head-quarters of my regiment, which was proceeding to
Halifax, Nova Scotia. Our passage across the Atlantic was smooth,
though long and tedious. After passing over the great bank of
Newfoundland, catching large quantities of codfish and halibut, and
encountering the usual fogs, we were one morning, about the end of
July, completely becalmed. All who have performed a voyage, know the
feeling of listlessness to which a landsman abandons himself during a
calm. The morning was slowly passed in looking for appearances of a
breeze--whistling for a wind, and the other idle pursuits usual on
such occasions. Towards noon, a sailor from aloft pointed out to our
observation a vessel at a distance, also, of course, becalmed. All
eyes and glasses were immediately directed towards her, but she was
too far off for the most experienced to determine whether she was
English or foreign, man-of-war or merchantman. After a time it
occurred to me, that it was a favorable opportunity for breaking in
upon the monotony of the day. My influence with our captain obtained
permission for the small cutter to be lowered, but he would not allow
a single seaman to leave the ship. I therefore became coxswain of the
boat, and, accompanied by four of my brother officers as rowers, we
pushed off, determined to pay a visit to the strange sail. To our
landsmen's eyes and judgment, she had appeared to be about four miles
from us, but we found ourselves very much out in our calculation--it
was more than double that distance. The rowers, however, pulled on
bravely--we neared the stranger, making her out to be a large American
merchantman, and as he was approached, we observed a number of persons
on deck reconnoitring us through glasses. At length we were alongside,
and I passed on board, followed by three of my companions, one
remaining in charge of the boat. On reaching the deck, we found it
crowded with men, who seemed to regard us with wondering looks. I
stepped forward and was received by the Captain, who acquainted me
that his vessel was the American ship Cadmus, on her passage from
Havre-de-grace to New York, with General the Marquis de Lafayette and
suite as passengers. A noble, venerable looking veteran advanced from
the poop towards us, and offered his greetings with the courtesy of
the old French school. He was Lafayette. My explanation of who we
were, and the motive of our visit, appeared to excite his surprise.
That five officers of the land service, unaccompanied by a single
sailor, should leave their vessel on the open ocean, and from mere
curiosity, visit a strange sail at such a distance, was, he declared,
most extraordinary. He said they had observed our ship early in the
morning--had been occupied (like ourselves) in vain endeavors to make
us out--had remarked an object, a mere speck upon the sea, leave the
vessel and move towards them, and when at length it was made out to be
a boat, the probable cause of such a circumstance had given rise to
many surmises. I told him in mitigation of what he deemed our
rashness, that we were, as a nation, so essentially maritime, that
every man in England was more or less a sailor. At all events, I
ventured to add if we had encountered some little risk, we had been
amply repaid in seeing a man so celebrated, and of whom we had all
heard and read. Our comrade being relieved by an American sailor in
the care of the boat, we accepted the General's offer of refreshment,
proceeded to the cabin, and passed a most agreeable hour. The fast
approach of evening and appearances of a breeze springing up induced
us to take leave. We separated from the old chief, not as the
acquaintance of an hour, but with all the warmth--the grasp and
pressure of hand--of old friends. As I parted from him at the gangway,
he mentioned having caused a case of claret to be lowered into our
boat, which he begged us to present to our Colonel and the other
officers of our mess. We pulled cheerily back, but it was not until
long after dark that we reached the 'Vibelia,' and which we perhaps
could not have accomplished, but for their having exhibited blue
lights every few minutes to point out her position. We found our
comrades had been in great alarm for our safety. Various had been the
surmises. That we had boarded a pirate, and been sacrificed, or made
prisoners, was most prevalent, and a breeze was anxiously prayed for,
that they might bear down, and release or revenge us. Half an hour
after we returned to our ship, a light wind sprang up, which very
shortly freshened into a gale, so that in the morning we had
completely lost sight of the 'Cadmus.'
ACCOUNT OF THE LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY'S SHIP PHOENIX.
The Phoenix of 44 guns, Capt. Sir Hyde Parker was lost in a hurricane,
off Cuba, in the West Indies, in the year 1780. The same hurricane
destroyed the Thunderer, 74; Stirling Castle, 64; La Blanche, 42;
Laurel, 28; Andromeda, 28; Deas Castle, 24; Scarborough, 20; Beaver's
Prize, 16; Barbadoes, 14; Cameleon, 14; Endeavour, 14; and Victor, 10
guns. Lieut. Archer was first-lieutenant of the Phoenix at the time
she was lost. His narrative in a letter to his mother, contains a most
correct and animated account of one of the most awful events in the
service. It is so simple and natural as to make the reader feel
himself as on board the Phoenix. Every circumstance is detailed with
feeling, and powerful appeals are continually made to the heart. It
must likewise afford considerable pleasure to observe the devout
spirit of a seaman frequently bursting forth, and imparting sublimity
to the relation.
At Sea, June 30, 1781.
MY DEAR MOTHER,
I am now going to give you an account of our last cruise in the
Phoenix; and must premise, that should any one see it besides
yourself, they must put this construction on it--that it was
originally intended for the eyes of a mother, and a mother only--as,
upon that supposition, my feelings may be tolerated. You will also
meet with a number of sea-terms, which, if you don't understand, why,
I cannot help you, as I am unable to give a sea description in any
other words.
To begin then:--On the 2d of August, 1780, we weighed and sailed for
Port Royal, bound for Pensacola, having two store-ships under convoy,
and to see safe in; then cruise off the Havana, and in the gulf of
Mexico, for six weeks. In a few days we made the two sandy islands,
that look as if they had just risen out of the sea, or fallen from the
sky; inhabited, nevertheless, by upwards of three hundred English, who
get their bread by catching turtle and parrots, and raising
vegetables, which they exchange with ships that pass, for clothing and
a few of the luxuries of life, as rum, &c.
About the 12th we arrived at Pensacola, without any thing remarkable
happening except our catching a vast quantity of fish, sharks,
dolphins, and bonettos. On the 13th sailed singly, and on the 14th had
a very heavy gale of wind at north, right off the land, so that we
soon left the sweet place, Pensacola, at a distance astern. We then
looked into the Havana, saw a number of ships there, and knowing that
some of them were bound round the bay, we cruised in the track: a
fortnight, however, passed, and not a single ship hove in sight to
cheer our spirits. We then took a turn or two round the gulf, but not
near enough to be seen from the shore. Vera Cruz we expected would
have made us happy, but the same luck still continued; day followed
day, and no sail. The dollar bag began to grow a little bulky, for
every one had lost two or three times, and no one had won: this was a
small gambling party entered into by Sir Hyde and ourselves; every one
put a dollar into a bag, and fixed on a day when we should see a
sail, but no two persons were to name the same day, and whoever
guessed right first was to have the bag.
Being now tired of our situation, and glad the cruise was almost out,
for we found the navigation very dangerous, owing to unaccountable
currents; we shaped our course for Cape Antonio. The next day the man
at the mast head, at about one o'clock in the afternoon, called out:
"A sail upon the weather bow! Ha! Ha! Mr. Spaniard, I think we have
you at last. Turn out all hands! make sail! All hands give chase!"
There was scarcely any occasion for this order, for the sound of a
sail being in sight flew like wild fire through the ship and every
sail was set in an instant almost before the orders were given. A
lieutenant at the mast head, with a spy glass, "What is she?" "A large
ship studding athwart right before the wind. P-o-r-t! Keep her away!
set the studding sails ready!" Up comes the little doctor, rubbing his
hands; "Ha! ha! I have won the bag." "The devil take you and the bag;
look, what 's ahead will fill all our bags." Mast head again: "Two
more sail on the larboard beam!" "Archer, go up, and see what you can
make of them." "Upon deck there; I see a whole fleet of twenty sail
coming right before the wind." "Confound the luck of it, this is some
convoy or other, but we must try if we can pick some of them out."
"Haul down the studding-sails! Luff! bring her to the wind! Let us see
what we can make of them."
About five we got pretty near them, and found them to be twenty-six
sail of Spanish merchantmen, under convoy of three line of battle
ships, one of which chased us; but when she found we were playing with
her (for the old Phoenix had heels) she left chase, and joined the
convoy; which they drew up into a lump, and placed themselves at the
outside; but we still kept smelling about till after dark. O, for the
Hector, the Albion, and a frigate, and we should take the whole fleet
and convoy, worth some millions! About eight o'clock perceived three
sail at some distance from the fleet; dashed in between them, and gave
chase, and were happy to find they steered from the fleet. About
twelve came up with a large ship of twenty-six guns. "Archer, every
man to his quarters! run the lower deck guns out, and light the ship
up; show this fellow our force; it may prevent his firing into us and
killing a man or two." No sooner said than done. "Hoa, the ship ahoy,
lower all your sails down, and bring to instantly, or I'll sink you."
Clatter, clatter, went the blocks, and away flew all their sails in
proper confusion. "What ship is that?" "The Polly." "Whence came
you?" "From Jamaica." "Where are you bound?" "To New York." "What ship
is that?" "The Phoenix." Huzza, three times by the whole ship's
company. An old grum fellow of a sailor standing close by me: "O, d--m
your three cheers, we took you to be something else." Upon examination
we found it to be as he reported, and that they had fallen in with the
Spanish fleet that morning, and were chased the whole day, and that
nothing saved them but our stepping in between; for the Spaniards took
us for three consorts, and the Polly took the Phoenix for a Spanish
frigate, till we hailed them. The other vessel in company was likewise
bound to New York. Thus was I, from being worth thousands in idea,
reduced to the old 4s. 6d. a day again: for the little doctor made the
most prize money of us all that day, by winning the bag, which
contained between thirty and forty dollars; but this is nothing to
what we sailors sometimes undergo.
After parting company, we steered south-south-east, to go round
Antonio, and so to Jamaica, (our cruise being out) with our fingers
in our mouths, and all of us as green as you please. It happened to
be my middle watch, and about three o'clock, when a man upon the
forecastle bawls out: "Breakers ahead, and land upon the lee-bow;" I
looked out, and it was so sure enough. "Ready about! put the helm
down! Helm a lee!" Sir Hyde hearing me put the ship about, jumped
upon deck. "Archer, what 's the matter? you are putting the ship
about without my orders!" "Sir, 'tis time to go about! the ship is
almost ashore, there 's the land." "Good God so it is! Will the ship
stay?" "Yes, Sir, I believe she will, if we don't make any confusion;
she's all aback--forward now?"--"Well," says he, "work the ship, I
will not speak a single word." The ship stayed very well. "Then,
heave the lead! see what water we have!" "Three fathom." "Keep the
ship away, west-north-west."--"By the mark three." "This won't do,
Archer." "No, Sir, we had better haul more to the northward; we came
south-south-east, and had better steer north-north-west." "Steady,
and a quarter three." "This may do, as we deepen a little." "By the
deep four." "Very well, my lad, heave quick." "Five Fathom." "That 's
a fine fellow! another cast nimbly." "Quarter less eight." "That will
do, come, we shall get clear by and by."--"Mark under water five."
"What 's that?" "Only five fathom, Sir." "Turn all hands up, bring
the ship to an anchor, boy!" "Are the anchors clear!" "In a moment,
Sir." "All clear!" "What water have you in the chains now!" "Eight,
half nine." "Keep fast the anchors till I call you." "Ay, ay, Sir,
all fast!" "I have no ground with this line." "How many fathoms have
you out? pass along the deep-sea line!" "Ay, ay, Sir." "Come are you
all ready?" "All ready, Sir." "Heave away, watch! watch! bear away,
veer away, no ground Sir, with a hundred fathom." "That 's clever,
come, Madam Phoenix, there is another squeak in you yet--all down but
the watch; secure the anchors again; heave the main-top-sail to the
mast; luff, and bring her to the wind!"
I told you, Madam, you should have a little sea-jargon: if you can
understand half of what is already said, I wonder at it, though it is
nothing to what is to come yet, when the old hurricane begins. As soon
as the ship was a little to rights, and all quiet again, Sir Hyde came
to me in the most friendly manner, the tears almost starting from his
eyes--"Archer, we ought all, to be much obliged to you for the safety
of the ship, and perhaps of ourselves. I am particularly so; nothing
but that instantaneous presence of mind and calmness saved her;
another ship's length and we should have been fast on shore; had you
been the least diffident, or made the least confusion, so as to make
the ship baulk in her stays, she must have been inevitably lost."
"Sir, you are very good, but I have done nothing that I suppose any
body else would not have done, in the same situation. I did not turn
all the hands up, knowing the watch able to work the ship; besides,
had it spread immediately about the ship, that she was almost ashore,
it might have created a confusion that was better avoided." "Well,"
says he, "'t is well indeed."
At daylight we found that the current had set us between the Collarado
rocks and Cape Antonio, and that we could not have got out any other
way than we did; there was a chance, but Providence is the best pilot.
We had sunset that day twenty leagues to the south-east of our
reckoning by the current.
After getting clear of this scrape, we thought ourselves fortunate,
and made sail for Jamaica, but misfortune seemed to follow misfortune.
The next night, my watch upon deck too, we were overtaken by a squall,
like a hurricane while it lasted; for though I saw it coming, and
prepared for it, yet, when it took the ship, it roared, and laid her
down so, that I thought she would never get up again. However, by
keeping her away, and clewing up every thing, she righted. The
remainder of the night we had very heavy squalls, and in the morning
found the mainmast sprung half the way through: one hundred and
twenty-three leagues to the leeward of Jamaica, the hurricane months
coming on, the head of the mainmast almost off, and at short
allowance; well, we must make the best of it. The mainmast was well
fished, but we were obliged to be very tender of carrying sail.
Nothing remarkable happened for ten days afterwards, when we chased a
Yankee man of war for six hours, but could not get near enough to her
before it was dark, to keep sight of her; so that we lost her because
unable to carry any sail on the mainmast. In about twelve days more
made the island of Jamaica, having weathered all the squalls, and put
into Montego Bay for water; so that we had a strong party for kicking
up a dust on shore, having found three men of war lying there.
Dancing, &c. &c. till two o'clock every morning; little thinking what
was to happen in four days' time: for out of the four men of war that
were there, not one was in being at the end of that time, and not a
soul alive but those left of our crew. Many of the houses, where we
had been so merry, were so completely destroyed, that scarcely a
vestige remained to mark where they stood. Thy works are wonderful, O
God! praised be thy holy Name!
September the 30th weighed; bound for Port Royal, round the eastward
of the island; the Bardadoes and Victor had sailed the day before, and
the Scarborough was to sail the next. Moderate weather until October
the 2d. Spoke to the Barbadoes off Port Antonio in the evening. At
eleven at night it began to snuffle, with a monstrous heavy appearance
from the eastward. Close reefed the top-sails. Sir Hyde sent for me:
"What sort of weather have we, Archer!" "It blows a little, and has a
very ugly look: if in any other quarter but this, I should say we were
going to have a gale of wind." "Ay, it looks so very often here when
there is no wind at all; however, don't hoist the top-sails till it
clears a little, there is no trusting any country." At twelve I was
relieved; the weather had the same rough look: however, they made sail
upon her, but had a very dirty night. At eight in the morning I came
up again, found it blowing hard from the east-north-east, with
close-reefed top-sails upon the ship, and heavy squalls at times. Sir
Hyde came upon deck: "Well, Archer, what do you think of it?" "O, Sir,
't is only a touch of the times, we shall have an observation at
twelve o'clock; the clouds are beginning to break; it will clear up at
noon, or else--blow very hard afterwards." "I wish it would clear up,
but I doubt it much. I was once in a hurricane in the East Indies, and
the beginning of it had much the same appearance as this. So take in
the top-sails, we have plenty of sea-room."
At twelve, the gale still increasing, wore ship, to keep as near
mid-channel between Jamaica and Cuba, as possible; at one the gale
increasing still; at two, harder yet, it still blows harder! Reefed
the courses, and furled them; brought to under a foul mizen stay-sail,
head to the northward. In the evening no sign of the weather taking
off, but every appearance of the storm increasing, prepared for a
proper gale of wind; secured all the sails with spare gaskets; good
rolling tackles upon the yards; squared the booms; saw the boats all
made fast; new lashed the guns; double breeched the lower deckers; saw
that the carpenters had the tarpawlings and battens all ready for
hatchways; got the top-gallant-mast down upon the deck; jib-boom and
sprit-sail-yard fore and aft; in fact every thing we could think of to
make a snug ship.
The poor devils of birds now began to find the uproar in the elements,
for numbers, both of sea and land kinds, came on board of us. I took
notice of some, which happening to be to leeward, turned to windward,
like a ship, tack and tack; for they could not fly against it. When
they came over the ship they dashed themselves down upon the deck,
without attempting to stir till picked up, and when let go again, they
would not leave the ship, but endeavoured to hide themselves from the
wind.
At eight o'clock a hurricane; the sea roaring, but the wind still
steady to a point; did not ship a spoonful of water. However, got the
hatchways all secured, expecting what would be the consequence, should
the wind shift; placed the carpenters by the mainmast, with broad
axes, knowing, from experience, that at the moment you may want to cut
it away to save the ship, an axe may not be found. Went to supper:
bread, cheese, and porter. The purser frightened out of his wits about
his bread bags; the two marine officers as white as sheets, not
understanding the ship's working so much, and the noise of the lower
deck guns; which, by this time, made a pretty screeching to people not
used to it; it seemed as if the whole ship's side was going at each
roll. Wooden, our carpenter, was all this time smoking his pipe and
laughing at the doctor; the second lieutenant upon deck, and the third
in his hammock.
At ten o'clock I thought to get a little sleep; came to look into my
cot; it was full of water; for every seam, by the straining of the
ship, had began to leak. Stretched myself, therefore, upon deck
between two chests, and left orders to be called, should the least
thing happen. At twelve a midshipman came to me: "Mr. Archer, we are
just going to wear ship, Sir!" "O, very well, I'll be up directly,
what sort of weather have you got?" "It blows a hurricane." Went upon
deck, found Sir Hyde there. "It blows damned hard Archer." "It does
indeed, Sir." "I don't know that I ever remember its blowing so hard
before, but the ship makes a good weather of it upon this tack as she
bows the sea; but we must wear her, as the wind has shifted to the
south-east, and we were drawing right upon Cuba; so do you go forward,
and have some hands stand by; loose the lee yard-arm of the fore-sail,
and when she is right before the wind, whip the clue-garnet close up,
and roll up the sail." "Sir! there is no canvass can stand against
this a moment; if we attempt to loose him he will fly into ribands in
an instant, and we may lose three or four of our people; she'll wear
by manning the fore shrouds." "No, I don't think she will." "I'll
answer for it, Sir; I have seen it tried several times on the coast of
America with success." "Well, try it; if she does not wear, we can
only loose the fore-sail afterwards." This was a great condescension
from such a man as Sir Hyde. However, by sending about two hundred
people into the fore-rigging, after a hard struggle, she wore; found
she did not make so good weather on this tack as on the other; for as
the sea began to run across, she had not time to rise from one sea
before another lashed against her. Began to think we should lose our
masts, as the ship lay very much along, by the pressure of the wind
constantly upon the yards and masts alone: for the poor
mizen-stay-sail had gone in shreds long before, and the sails began to
fly from the yards through the gaskets into coach whips. My God! to
think that the wind could have such force!
Sir Hyde now sent me to see what was the matter between decks, as
there was a good deal of noise. As soon as I was below, one of the
Marine officers calls out: "Good God Mr. Archer, we are sinking, the
water is up to the bottom of my cot." "Pooh, pooh! as long as it is
not over your mouth, you are well off; what the devil do you make this
noise for?" I found there was some water between decks, but nothing to
be alarmed at; scuttled the deck, and let it run into the well--found
she made a good deal of water through the sides and decks; turned the
watch below to the pumps, though only two feet of water in the well;
but expected to be kept constantly at work now, as the ship labored
much, with scarcely a part of her above water but the quarter-deck,
and that but seldom "Come, pump away, my boys. Carpenters, get the
weather chain-pump rigged." "All ready, Sir." "Then man it and keep
both pumps going."
At two o'clock the chain-pump was choked; set the carpenters at work
to clear it; the two head pumps at work upon deck; the ship gained on
us while our chain-pumps were idle; in a quarter of an hour they were
at work again, and we began to gain upon her. While I was standing at
the pumps, cheering the people, the carpenter's mate came running to
me with a face as long as my arm: "O, Sir! the ship has sprang a leak
in the gunner's room." "Go, then, and tell the carpenter to come to
me, but don't speak a word to any one else." "Mr. Goodinoh, I am told
there is a leak in the gunner's room; go and see what is the matter,
but don't alarm any body, and come and make your report privately to
me." In a short time he returned: "Sir, there 's nothing there, 'tis
only the water washing up between the timbers that this booby has
taken for a leak." "O, very well; go upon deck and see if you can keep
any of the water from washing down below." "Sir, I have had four
people constantly keeping the hatchways secure, but there is such a
weight of water upon the deck that nobody can stand it when the ship
rolls." The gunner soon afterwards came to me: "Mr. Archer, I should
be glad if you would step this way into the magazine for a moment:" I
thought some damned thing was the matter, and ran directly: "Well,
what is the matter here?" "The ground-tier of powder is spoiled, and I
want to show you that it is not out of carelessness in stowing it, for
no powder in the world could be better stowed. Now, Sir, what am I to
do? if you don't speak to Sir Hyde, he will be angry with me." I could
not forbear smiling to see how easy he took the danger of the ship,
and said to him: "Let us shake off this gale of wind first, and talk
of the damaged powder afterwards."
At four we had gained upon the ship a little, and I went upon deck, it
being my watch. The second lieutenant relieved me at the pumps. Who
can attempt to describe the appearance of things upon deck? If I was
to write for ever I could not give you an idea of it--a total darkness
all above, the sea on fire, running as it were in Alps, or Peaks of
Teneriffe; (mountains are too common an idea); the wind roaring louder
than thunder, (absolutely no flight of imagination), the whole made
more terrible, if possible, by a very uncommon kind of blue lightning;
the poor ship very much pressed, yet doing what she could, shaking her
sides, and groaning at every stroke. Sir Hyde upon deck lashed to
windward! I soon lashed myself alongside of him, and told him the
situation of things below, saying the ship did not make more water
than might be expected in such weather, and that I was only afraid of
a gun breaking loose. "I am not in the least afraid of that; I have
commanded her six years, and have had many a gale of wind in her; so
that her iron work, which always gives way first, is pretty well
tried. Hold fast! that was an ugly sea; we must lower the yards, I
believe, Archer; the ship is much pressed." "If we attempt it, Sir, we
shall lose them, for a man aloft can do nothing; besides their being
down would ease the ship very little; the mainmast is a sprung mast; I
wish it was overboard without carrying any thing else along with it;
but that can soon be done, the gale cannot last for ever; 'twill soon
be daylight now." Found by the master's watch that it was five
o'clock, though but a little after four by ours; glad it was so near
daylight, and looked for it with much anxiety. Cuba, thou art much in
our way! Another ugly sea: sent a midshipman to bring news from the
pumps: the ship was gaining on them very much, for they had broken one
of their chains, but it was almost mended again. News from the pump
again. "She still gains! a heavy lee!" Back-water from leeward,
half-way up the quarter-deck; filled one of the cutters upon the
booms, and tore her all to pieces; the ship lying almost on her beam
ends, and not attempting to right again. Word from below that the ship
still gained on them, as they could not stand to the pumps, she lay so
much along. I said to Sir Hyde: "This is no time, Sir, to think of
saving the masts, shall we cut the mainmast away?" "Ay! as fast as you
can." I accordingly went into the weather chains with a pole-axe, to
cut away the lanyards; the boatswain went to leeward, and the
carpenters stood by the mast. We were all ready, when a very violent
sea broke right on board of us, carried every thing upon deck away,
filled the ship with water, the main and mizen masts went, the ship
righted, but was in the last struggle of sinking under us.
As soon as we could shake our heads above water, Sir Hyde exclaimed:
"We are gone, at last, Archer! foundered at sea!" "Yes, Sir,
farewell, and the Lord have mercy upon us!" I then turned about to
look forward at the ship; and thought she was struggling to get rid of
some of the water; but all in vain, she was almost full below
"Almighty God! I thank thee, that now I am leaving this world, which I
have always considered as only a passage to a better, I die with a
full hope of the mercies, through the merits of Jesus Christ, thy son,
our Saviour!"
I then felt sorry that I could swim, as by that means I might be a
quarter of an hour longer dying than a man who could not, and it is
impossible to divest ourselves of a wish to preserve life. At the end
of these reflections I thought I heard the ship thump and grinding
under our feet; it was so. "Sir, the ship is ashore!" "What do you
say?" "The ship is ashore, and we may save ourselves yet!" By this
time the quarter-deck was full of men who had come up from below; and
'the Lord have mercy upon us,' flying about from all quarters. The
ship now made every body sensible that she was ashore, for every
stroke threatened a total dissolution of her whole frame; found she
was stern ashore, and the bow broke the sea a good deal, though it was
washing clean over at every stroke. Sir Hyde cried out: "Keep to the
quarter-deck, my lads, when she goes to pieces, 't is your best
chance!" Providentially got the foremast cut away, that she might not
pay round broad-side. Lost five men cutting away the foremast, by the
breaking of a sea on board just as the mast went. That was nothing;
every one expected it would be his own fate next; looked for daybreak
with the greatest impatience. At last it came; but what a scene did it
show us! The ship upon a bed of rocks, mountains of them on one side,
and Cordilleras of water on the other; our poor ship grinding and
crying out at every stroke between them; going away by piecemeal.
However, to show the unaccountable workings of Providence, that which
often appears to be the greatest evil, proved to be the greatest good!
That unmerciful sea lifted and beat us up so high among the rocks,
that at last the ship scarcely moved. She was very strong, and did not
go to pieces at the first thumping, though her decks tumbled in. We
found afterwards that she had beat over a ledge of rocks, almost a
quarter of a mile in extent beyond us, where, if she had struck, every
soul of us must have perished.
I now began to think of getting on shore, so stripped off my coat and
shoes for a swim, and looked for a line to carry the end with me.
Luckily could not find one, which gave me time for recollection.
"This won't do for me, to be the first man out of the ship, and first
lieutenant; we may get to England again, and people may think I paid a
great deal of attention to myself and did not care for any body else.
No, that won't do; instead of being the first, I'll see every man,
sick and well, out of her before me."
I now thought there was no probability of the ship's soon going to
pieces, therefore had not a thought of instant death: took a look
round with a kind of philosophic eye, to see how the same situation
affected my companions, and was surprised to find the most swaggering,
swearing bullies in fine weather, now the most pitiful wretches on
earth, when death appeared before them. However, two got safe; by
which means, with a line, we got a hawser on shore, and made fast to
the rocks, upon which many ventured and arrived safe. There were some
sick and wounded on board, who could not avail themselves of this
method; we, therefore, got a spare top-sail-yard from the chains and
placed one end ashore and the other on the cabin-window, so that most
of the sick got ashore this way.
As I had determined, so I was the last man out of the ship; this was
about ten o'clock. The gale now began to break. Sir Hyde came to me,
and taking me by the hand was so affected that he was scarcely able to
speak "Archer, I am happy beyond expression, to see you on shore, but
look at our poor Phoenix!" I turned about, but could not say a single
word, being too full: my mind had been too intensely occupied before;
but every thing now rushed upon me at once, so that I could not
contain myself, and I indulged for a full quarter of an hour in tears.
By twelve it was pretty moderate; got some nails on shore and made
tents; found great quantities of fish driven up by the sea into the
holes of the rocks; knocked up a fire, and had a most comfortable
dinner. In the afternoon made a stage from the cabin-windows to the
rocks, and got out some provisions and water, lest the ship should go
to pieces, in which case we must all have perished of hunger and
thirst; for we were upon a desolate part of the coast, and under a
rocky mountain, that could not supply us with a single drop of water.
Slept comfortably this night and the next day, the idea of death
vanishing by degrees, the prospect of being prisoners, during the war,
at the Havana, and walking three hundred miles to it through the
woods, was rather unpleasant. However, to save life for the present,
we employed this day in getting more provisions and water on shore,
which was not an easy matter, on account of decks, guns and rubbish,
and ten feet water that lay over them. In the evening I proposed to
Sir Hyde to repair the remains of the only boat left, and to venture
in her to Jamaica myself; and in case I arrived safe, to bring vessels
to take them all off; a proposal worthy of consideration. It was, next
day, agreed to; therefore got the cutter on shore, and set the
carpenters to work on her; in two days she was ready, and at four
o'clock in the afternoon I embarked with four volunteers and a
fortnight's provision, hoisted English colors as we put off from the
shore, and received three cheers from the lads left behind, which we
returned, and set sail with a light heart; having not the least doubt,
that, with God's assistance, we should come and bring them all off.
Had a very squally night, and a very leaky boat, so as to keep two
buckets constantly bailing. Steered her myself the whole night by the
stars, and in the morning saw the coast of Jamaica distant twelve
leagues. At eight in the evening arrived at Montego Bay.
I must now begin to leave off, particularly as I have but half an hour
to conclude; else my pretty little short letter will lose its passage,
which I should not like, after being ten days, at different times,
writing it, beating up with the convoy to the northward, which is a
reason that this epistle will never read well; as I never set down
with a proper disposition to go on with it; but as I knew something of
the kind would please you, I was resolved to finish it; yet it will
not bear an overhaul; so don't expose your son's nonsense.
But to proceed--I instantly sent off an express to the admiral,
another to the Porcupine man of war, and went myself to Martha Bray to
get vessels; for all their vessels here, as well as many of their
houses, were gone to Moco. Got three small vessels, and set out back
again to Cuba, where I arrived the fourth day after leaving my
companions. I thought the ship's crew would have devoured me on my
landing; they presently whisked me up on their shoulders and carried
me to the tent where Sir Hyde was.
I must omit many little occurrences that happened on shore, for want
of time; but I shall have a number of stories to tell when I get
alongside of you; and the next time I visit you I shall not be in such
a hurry to quit you as I was the last, for then I hoped my nest would
have been pretty well feathered:--But my tale is forgotten.
I found the Porcupine had arrived that day, and the lads had built a
boat almost ready for launching, that would hold fifty of them, which
was intended for another trial, in case I had foundered. Next day
embarked all our people that were left, amounting to two hundred and
fifty; for some had died of their wounds they received in getting on
shore; others of drinking rum, and others had straggled into the
country.--All our vessels were so full of people, that we could not
take away the few clothes that were saved from the wreck; but that was
a trifle since we had preserved our lives and liberty. To make short
of my story, we all arrived safe at Montego Bay, and shortly after at
Port Royal, in the Janus, which was sent on purpose for us, and were
all honorably acquitted for the loss of the ship. I was made admiral's
aid-de-camp, and a little time afterwards sent down to St. Juan's as
captain of the Resource, to bring what were left of the poor devils to
Blue Fields, on the Musquito shore, and then to Jamaica, where they
arrived after three month's absence, and without a prize, though I
looked out hard off Porto Bello and Carthagena. Found in my absence
that I had been appointed captain of the Tobago, where I remain his
majesty's most true and faithful servant, and my dear mother's most
dutiful son,
----ARCHER
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
AN ACCOUNT OF THE WHALE FISHERY
WITH ANECDOTES OF THE DANGERS ATTENDING IT.
Historians, in general, have given to the Biscayans the credit of
having first practiced the fishery for the Whale; the English, and
afterwards the Dutch are supposed to have followed in the pursuit. It
was prosecuted by the Norwegians so early as the ninth century, and by
the Icelanders about the eleventh. It was not till the seventeenth
century however, that the whale fishery was engaged in by the maritime
nations of Europe as an important branch of commerce.
The crew of a whale ship usually consists of forty to fifty men,
comprising several classes of officers, such as harpooners,
boat-steerers, line-managers, &c. together with fore-mastmen, landmen
and apprentices. As a stimulus to the crew in the fishery, every
individual, from the master down to the boys, besides his monthly pay,
receives either a gratuity for every size fish caught during the
voyage, or a certain sum for every ton of oil which the cargo
produces. Masters and harpooners receive a small sum before sailing,
in place of monthly wages; and if they procure no cargo whatever,
they receive nothing more for their voyage; but in the event of a
successful fishing, their advantages are considerable.
The crow's nest is an apparatus placed on the main-top-mast, or
top-gallant-mast head, as a watch tower for the officer on the
lookout. It is closely defended from the wind and cold, and is
furnished with a speaking trumpet, a telescope and rifle. The most
favorable opportunity for prosecuting the fishery in the Greenland
seas, commonly occurs with north, north-west or west winds. At such
times the sea is smooth, and the atmosphere, though cloudy and dark,
is generally free from fog and snow. The fishers prefer a cloudy to a
clear sky; because in very bright weather, the sea becomes
illuminated, and the shadows of the whale-boats are so deeply
impressed in the water by the beams of the sun that the whales are apt
to take the alarm. Fogs are only so far unfavorable as being liable to
endanger the boats by shutting out the sight of the ship.--A well
constructed whale-boat floats lightly and safely on the water,--is
capable of being rowed with great speed, and readily turned round,--it
is of such capacity that it carries six or seven men, seven or eight
hundred weight of whale-lines, and various other materials, and yet
retains the necessary properties of safety and speed. Whale-boats
being very liable to receive damage, both from whales and ice, are
always carver-built,--a structure which is easily repaired. The
instruments of general use in the capture of the whale, are the
harpoon and lance. There is, moreover, a kind of harpoon which is shot
from a gun, but being difficult to adjust, it is seldom used. Each
boat is likewise furnished with a "jack" or flag fastened to a pole,
intended to be displayed as a signal whenever a whale is harpooned.
The crew of a whale-ship are separated in divisions, equal in number
to the number of the boats. Each division, consisting of a harpooner,
a boat-steerer, and a line-manager, together with three or four
rowers, constitutes a "boats crew."
On fishing stations, when the weather is such as to render the fishery
practicable, the boats are always ready for instant service. The
crow's nest is generally occupied by one of the officers, who keeps an
anxious watch for the appearance of a whale. The moment that a fish is
seen, he gives notice to the "watch upon deck," part of whom leap into
a boat, are lowered down, and push off towards the place. If the fish
be large, a second boat is despatched to the support of the other; and
when the whole of the boats are sent out, the ship is said to have "a
loose fall." There are several rules observed in approaching a whale
to prevent the animal from taking the alarm. As the whale is dull of
hearing, but quick of sight, the boat-steerer always endeavors to get
behind it; and, in accomplishing this, he is sometimes justified in
taking a circuitous rout. In calm weather, where guns are not used,
the greatest caution is necessary before a whale can be reached;
smooth careful rowing is always requisite, and sometimes sculling is
practiced. It is a primary consideration with the harpooner, always to
place his boat as near as possible to the spot in which he expects the
fish to rise, and he conceives himself successful in the attempt when
the fish "comes up within a start," that is, within the distance of
about two hundred yards.
Whenever a whale lies on the surface of the water, unconscious of the
approach of its enemies, the hardy fisher rows directly upon it; and
an instant before the boat touches it, buries his harpoon in his back.
The wounded whale, in the surprise and agony of the moment, makes a
convulsive effort to escape. Then is the moment of danger. The boat is
subjected to the most violent blows from its head, or its fins, but
particularly from its ponderous tail, which sometimes sweeps the air
with such tremendous fury, that boat and men are exposed to one common
destruction.
The head of the whale is avoided, because it cannot be penetrated with
the harpoon; but any part of the body, between the head and the tail,
will admit of the full length of the instrument, without danger of
obstruction. The moment that the wounded whale disappears, a flag is
displayed; on sight of which, those on watch in the ship, give the
alarm, by stamping on the deck, accompanied by shouts of "a fall."--At
the sound of this, the sleeping crew are roused, jump from their beds,
rush upon deck, and crowd into the boats. The alarm of "a fall," has a
singular effect on the feelings of a sleeping person, unaccustomed to
hearing it. It has often been mistaken as a cry of distress. A
landsman, seeing the crew, on an occasion of a fall, leap into the
boats in their shirts, imagined that the ship was sinking. He
therefore tried to get into a boat himself, but every one of them
being fully manned, he was refused. After several fruitless endeavors
to gain a place among his comrades, he cried out, in evident distress,
"What shall I do?--Will none of you take me in?"
The first effort of a "fast-fish," or whale that has been struck, is
to escape from the boat by sinking under water. After this, it
pursues its course downward, or reappears at a little distance, and
swims with great celerity, near the surface of the water. It sometimes
returns instantly to the surface, and gives evidence of its agony by
the most convulsive throes. The downward course of a whale is,
however, the most common. A whale, struck near the edge of any large
sheet of ice, and passing underneath it, will sometimes run the whole
of the lines out of one boat. The approaching distress of a boat, for
want of line, is indicated by the elevation of an oar, to which is
added a second, a third, or even a fourth, in proportion to the nature
of the exigence. The utmost care and attention are requisite, on the
part of every person in the boat, when the lines are running out;
fatal consequences having been sometimes produced by the most trifling
neglect.--When the line happens to "run foul," and cannot be cleared
on the instant, it sometimes draws the boat under water; on which, if
no auxiliary boat, or convenient piece of ice, be at hand, the crew
are plunged into the sea, and are obliged to trust to their oars or
their skill in swimming, for supporting themselves on the surface.
Captain Scoresby relates an accident of this kind, which happened on
his first voyage to the whale fishery. A thousand fathoms of line were
already out, and the fast-boat was forcibly pressed against the side
of a piece of ice. The harpooner, in his anxiety to retard the flight
of the whale, applied too many turns of the line round the bollard,
which, getting entangled, drew the boat beneath the ice. Another boat,
providentially was at hand, into which the crew had just time to
escape. The whale, with near two miles length of line, was, in
consequence of the accident, lost, but the boat was recovered.
The average stay under water of a wounded whale is about thirty
minutes. When it reappears, the assisting boats make for the place
with their utmost speed, and as they reach it, each harpooner plunges
his harpoon into its back, to the amount of three, four, or more,
according to the size of the whale. It is then actively plied with
lances, which are thrust into its body, aiming at its vitals. The sea
to a great extent around is dyed with its blood, and the noise made by
its tail in its dying struggle, may be heard several miles. In dying,
it turns on its back or on its side; which circumstance is announced
by the capturers with the striking of their flags, accompanied with
three lively huzzas!
Whales are sometimes captured, with a single harpoon, in the space of
fifteen minutes. Sometimes they resist forty or fifty hours, and at
times they will break three or four lines at once, or tear themselves
clear off the harpoons, by the violence of their struggles. Generally
the capture of a whale depends on the activity of the harpooner, the
state of the wind and weather, or the peculiar conduct of the animal
itself. Under the most favourable circumstances, the length of time
does not exceed an hour. The general average may be stated at two
hours. Instances have occurred where whales have been taken without
being struck at all, simply by entangling themselves in the lines that
had been used to destroy others, and struggling till they were drowned
or died of exhaustion.
The fishery for whales, when conducted at the margin of those
wonderful sheets of ice, called fields, is, when the weather is fine,
and the refuge for ships secure, the most agreeable, and sometimes the
most productive of all other ways. When the fish can be observed
"blowing" in any of the holes of a field, the men travel over the ice
and attack it with lances to turn it back. As connected with this
subject, Captain Scoresby relates the following circumstance, which
occurred under his own observation.
On the eighth of July, 1813, the ship Esk lay by the edge of a large
sheet of ice, in which there were several thin parts, and some holes.
Here a whale being heard blowing, a harpoon, with a line fastened to
it, was conveyed across the ice, from a boat on guard, and the
harpooner succeeded in striking the whale, at the distance of three
hundred and fifty yards from the verge. It dragged out ten lines,
(2400 yards,) and was supposed to be seen blowing in different holes
in the ice. After some time it made its appearance on the exterior,
and was again struck, at the moment it was about to go under the
second time. About an hundred yards from the edge, it broke the ice
where it was a foot thick, with its head, and respired through the
opening. It then pushed forward, breaking the ice as it advanced, in
spite of the lances constantly directed against it. At last it reached
a kind of basin in the field, where it floated on the surface without
any incumbrance from ice. Its back being fairly exposed, the harpoon
struck from the boat on the outside, was observed to be so slightly
entangled, that it was ready to drop out. Some of the officers
lamented this circumstance, and wished that the harpoon might be
better fast; at the same time observing that if it should slip out,
either the fish would be lost, or they should be under the necessity
of flensing it where it lay, and of dragging the blubber over the ice
to the ship; a kind and degree of labor every one was anxious to
avoid. No sooner was the wish expressed, and its importance explained,
than a young and daring sailor stepped forward, and offered to strike
the harpoon deeper. Not at all intimidated by the surprise manifested
on every countenance at such a bold proposal, he leaped on the back of
the living whale, and cut the harpoon out with his pocket knife.
Stimulated by his gallant example, one of his companions proceeded to
his assistance. While one of them hauled upon the line and held it in
his hands, the other set his shoulder against the end of the harpoon,
and though it was without a stock, contrived to strike it again into
the fish more effectually than at first! The whale was in motion
before they had finished. After they got off its back, it advanced a
considerable distance, breaking the ice all the way, and survived this
novel treatment ten or fifteen minutes. This daring deed was of
essential service. The whale fortunately sunk spontaneously after it
expired; on which it was hauled out under the ice by the line and
secured without farther trouble. It proved a mighty whale; a very
considerable prize.
When engaged in the pursuit of a large whale, it is a necessary
precaution for two boats at all times to proceed in company, that the
one may be able to assist the other, on any emergency. With this
principle in view, two boats from the Esk were sent out in chase of
some large whales, on the 13th of June 1814. No ice was within sight.
The boats had proceeded some time together, when they separated in
pursuit of two whales, not far distant from each other; when, by a
singular coincidence, the harpooners each struck his fish at the same
moment. They were a mile from the ship. Urgent signals for assistance
were displayed by each boat, and in a few minutes one of the
harpooners was obliged to slip the end of his line. Fortunately the
other fish did not descend so deep, and the lines in the boat proved
adequate for the occasion. One of the fish being then supposed to be
lost, five of the boats out of seven attended on the fish which yet
remained entangled, and speedily killed it. A short time afterwards,
the other fish supposed to be lost, was descried at a little distance
from the place where it was struck;--three boats proceeded against
it;--it was immediately struck, and in twenty minutes also killed.
Thus were fortunately captured two whales, both of which had been
despaired of. They produced near forty tons of oil, value, at that
time £1400. The lines attached to the last fish were recovered with
it.
Before a whale can be flensed, as the operation of taking off the fat
and whalebone is called, some preliminary measures are requisite.
These consist in securing the whale to the boat, cutting away the
attached whale-lines, lashing the fins together, and towing it to the
ship. Some curious circumstances connected with these operations may
be mentioned here.
[Illustration]
In the year 1816, a fish was to all appearance killed by the crew of
the Esk. The fins were partly lashed, and the tail on the point of
being secured, and all the lines excepting one, were cut away, the
fish meanwhile lying as if dead. To the alarm, however, of the
sailors, it revived, began to move, and pressed forward in a
convulsive agitation; soon after it sunk in the water to some depth,
and then died. One line fortunately remained attached to it, by which
it was drawn to the surface and secured.
A suspension of labor is generally allowed after the whale has been
secured aside of the ship, and before the commencement of the
operation of flensing. An unlucky circumstance once occurred in an
interval of this kind. At that period of the fishery, (forty or fifty
years ago,) when a single stout whale together with the bounty, was
found sufficient to remunerate the owners of a ship for the expenses
of the voyage, great joy was exhibited on the capture of a whale, by
the fishers. They were not only cheered by a dram of spirits, but
sometimes provided with some favorite "mess," on which to regale
themselves, before they commenced the arduous task of flensing. At
such a period, the crew of an English vessel had captured their first
whale. It was taken to the ship, placed on the lee-side, and though
the wind blew a strong breeze, it was fastened only by a small rope
attached to the fin. In this state of supposed security, all hands
retired to regale themselves, the captain himself not excepted. The
ship being at a distance from any ice, and the fish believed to be
fast, they made no great haste in their enjoyment. At length, the
specksioneer, or chief harpooner, having spent sufficient time in
indulgence and equipment, with an air of importance and
self-confidence, proceeded on deck, and naturally turned to look on
the whale. To his astonishment it was not to be seen. In some alarm he
looked a-stern, a-head, on the other side, but his search was useless;
the ship drifting fast, had pressed forcibly upon the whale, the rope
broke, the fish sunk and was lost. The mortification of this event may
be conceived, but the termination of their vexation will not easily be
imagined, when it is known, that no other opportunity of procuring a
whale occurred during the voyage. The ship returned home clean.
Flensing in a swell is a most difficult and dangerous undertaking; and
when the swell is at all considerable, it is commonly impracticable.
No ropes or blocks are capable of bearing the jerk of the sea. The
harpooners are annoyed by the surge, and repeatedly drenched in water;
and are likewise subject to be wounded by the breaking of ropes or
hooks of tackles, and even by strokes from each other's knives. Hence
accidents in this kind of flensing are not uncommon. The harpooners
not unfrequently fall into the whale's mouth, when it is exposed by
the removal of a surface of blubber; where they might easily be
drowned, but for the prompt assistance which is always at hand.
One of the laws of the fishery universally adhered to, is, that
whenever a whale is loose, whatever may be the case or circumstances,
it becomes a free prize to the first person who gets hold of it. Thus,
when a whale is killed, and the flensing is prevented by a storm, it
is usually taken in tow; if the rope by which it is connected with the
ship should happen to break, and the people of another ship should
seize upon it while disengaged, it becomes their prize. The following
circumstance, which occurred a good many years ago, has a tendency to
illustrate the existing Greenland laws.
During a storm of wind and snow several ships were beating to
windward, under easy sail, along the edge of a pack. When the storm
abated and the weather cleared, the ships steered towards the ice. Two
of the fleet approached it, about a mile assunder, abreast of each
other, when the crews of each ship accidentally got sight of a dead
fish at a little distance, within some loose ice. Each ship now made
sail, to endeavor to reach the fish before the other; which fish being
loose, would be a prize to the first who could get possession of it.
Neither ship could out sail the other, but each contrived to press
forward towards the prize. The little advantage one of them had in
distance, the other compensated with velocity. On each bow of the two
ships, was stationed a principal officer, armed with a harpoon in
readiness to discharge. But it so happened that the ships came in
contact with each other, when within a few yards of the fish, and in
consequence of the shock with which their bows met, they rebounded to
a considerable distance. The officers at the same moment discharged
their harpoons, but all of them fell short of the fish. A hardy fellow
who was second mate of the leeward ship immediately leaped overboard
and with great dexterity swam to the whale, seized it by the fin, and
proclaimed it his prize. It was, however, so swollen, that he was
unable to climb upon it, but was obliged to remain shivering in the
water until assistance should be sent. His captain elated with his
good luck, forgot, or at least neglected his brave second mate; and
before he thought of sending a boat to release him from his
disagreeable situation, prepared to moor his ship to an adjoining
piece of ice. Meanwhile the other ship tacked, and the master himself
stepped into a boat, pushed off and rowed deliberately towards the
dead fish. Observing the trembling seaman still in the water holding
by the fin, he addressed him with, "Well my lad, you have got a fine
fish here,"--to which after a natural reply in the affirmative, he
added, "but don't you find it very cold?"--"Yes," replied the
shivering sailor, "I'm almost starved. I wish you would allow me to
come into your boat until ours arrives." This favor needed no second
solicitation; the boat approached the man and he was assisted into it.
The fish being again loose and out of possession, the captain
instantly struck his harpoon into it, hoisted his flag, and claimed
his prize! Mortified and displeased as the other master felt at this
trick, for so it certainly was, he had nevertheless no redress, but
was obliged to permit the fish to be taken on board of his
competitor's ship, and to content himself with abusing the second mate
for want of discretion, and condemning himself for not having more
compassion on the poor fellow's feeling, which would have prevented
the disagreeable misadventure.
Those employed in the occupation of killing whales, are, when actually
engaged, exposed to danger from three sources, viz. from the ice, from
the climate, and from the whales themselves. The ice is a source of
danger to the fishers, from overhanging masses falling upon
them,--from the approximation of large sheets of ice to each other,
which are apt to crush or upset the boats,--from their boats being
stove or sunk by large masses of ice, agitated by a swell,--and from
the boats being enclosed and beset in a pack of ice, and their crews
thus prevented from joining their ships.
On the commencement of a heavy gale of wind, May 11th, 1813, fourteen
men put off in a boat from the Volunteer of Whitby, with the view of
setting an anchor in a large piece of ice, to which it was their
intention of mooring the ship.--The ship approached on a signal being
made, the sails were clewed up, and a rope fixed to the anchor; but
the ice shivering with the violence of the strain when the ship fell
astern, the anchor flew out and the ship went adrift. The sails being
again set, the ship was reached to the eastward (wind at north,) the
distance of about two miles; but in attempting to wear and return, the
ship, instead of performing the evolution, scudded a considerable
distance to the leeward, and was then reaching out to sea; thus
leaving fourteen of her crew to a fate most dreadful, the fulfilment
of which seemed almost inevitable. The temperature of the air was 15
or 16 of Fahr. when these poor wretches were left upon a detached
piece of ice, of no considerable magnitude, without food, without
shelter from the inclement storm, deprived of every means of refuge
except in a single boat, which, on account of the number of men, and
the violence of the storm, was incapable of conveying them to their
ship. Death stared them in the face whichever way they turned, and a
division in opinion ensued. Some were wishful to remain on the ice,
but the ice could afford them no shelter to the piercing wind, and
would probably be broken to pieces by the increasing swell: others
were anxious to attempt to join their ship while she was yet in
sight, but the force of the wind, the violence of the sea, the
smallness of the boat in comparison to the number of men to be
conveyed, were objections which would have appeared insurmountable to
any person but men in a state of despair.--Judging, that by remaining
on the ice, death was but retarded for a few hours, as the extreme
cold must eventually benumb their faculties, and invite a sleep which
would overcome the remains of animation,--they determined on making
the attempt of rowing to their ship. Poor souls, what must have been
their sensations at that moment,--when the spark of hope yet remaining
was so feeble, that a premature death even to themselves seemed
inevitable. They made the daring experiment, when a few minutes' trial
convinced them, that the attempt was utterly impracticable. They then
with longing eyes, turned their efforts towards recovering the ice
they had left, but their utmost exertions were unavailing. Every one
now viewed his situation as desperate; and anticipated, as certain,
the fatal event which was to put a period to his life. How great must
have been their delight, and how overpowering their sensations, when
at this most critical juncture a ship appeared in sight! She was
advancing directly towards them; their voices were extended and their
flag displayed.--But although it was impossible they should be heard,
it was not impossible they should be seen. Their flag was descried by
the people on board the ship, their mutual courses were so directed as
to form the speediest union, and in a few minutes they found
themselves on the deck of the Lively of Whitby, under circumstances of
safety! They received from their townsmen the warmest congratulations;
and while each individual was forward in contributing his assistance
towards the restoration of their benumbed bodies, each appeared
sensible that their narrow escape from death was highly providential.
The forbearance of God is wonderful. Perhaps these very men a few
hours before, were impiously invoking their own destruction, or
venting imprecations upon their fellow beings! True it is that the
goodness of the Almighty extendeth over all his works, and that while
'Mercy is his darling attribute,'--'Judgment is his strange work.'
The most extensive source of danger to the whale-fisher, when actively
engaged in his occupation, arises from the object of his pursuit.
Excepting when it has young under its protection, the whale generally
exhibits remarkable timidity of character. A bird perching on its back
alarms it; hence, the greater part of the accidents which happen in
the course of its capture, must be attributed to adventitious
circumstances on the part of the whale, or to mismanagement or
foolhardiness on the part of the fishers.
[Illustration]
A harpooner belonging to the Henrietta of Whitby, when engaged in
lancing a whale, into which he had previously struck a harpoon,
incautiously cast a little line under his feet that he had just hauled
into the boat, after it had been drawn out by the fish. A painful
stroke of his lance induced the whale to dart suddenly downward; his
line began to run out from beneath his feet, and in an instant caught
him by a turn round his body. He had but just time to cry out, "clear
away the line,"--"O dear!" when he was almost cut assunder, dragged
overboard and never seen afterwards. The line was cut at the moment,
but without avail. The fish descended a considerable depth, and died;
from whence it was drawn to the surface by the lines connected with
it, and secured.
While the ship Resolution navigated an open lake of water, in the 81st
degree of north latitude, during a keen frost and strong north wind,
on the 2d of June 1806, a whale appeared, and a boat put off in
pursuit. On its second visit to the surface of the sea, it was
harpooned. A convulsive heave of the tail, which succeeded the wound,
struck the boat at the stern; and by its reaction, projected the
boat-steerer overboard. As the line in a moment dragged the boat
beyond his reach, the crew threw some of their oars towards him for
his support, one of which he fortunately seized. The ship and boats
being at a considerable distance, and the fast-boat being rapidly
drawn away from him, the harpooner cut the line with the view of
rescuing him from his dangerous situation. But no sooner was this act
performed, than to their extreme mortification they discovered, that
in consequence of some oars being thrown towards their floating
comrade, and others being broken or unshipped by the blow from the
fish, one oar only remained; with which, owing to the force of the
wind, they tried in vain to approach him. A considerable period
elapsed, before any boat from the ship could afford him assistance,
though the men strained every nerve for the purpose. At length, when
they reached him, he was found with his arms stretched over an oar,
almost deprived of sensation.--On his arrival at the ship, he was in a
deplorable condition. His clothes were frozen like mail, and his hair
constituted a helmet of ice. He was immediately conveyed into the
cabin, his clothes taken off, his limbs and body dried and well
rubbed, and a cordial administered which he drank. A dry shirt and
stockings were then put upon him, and he was laid in the captain's
bed. After a few hours sleep he awoke, and appeared considerably
restored, but complained of a painful sensation of cold. He was,
therefore, removed to his own birth, and one of his messmates ordered
to lie on each side of him, whereby the diminished circulation of the
blood was accelerated, and the animal heat restored. The shock on his
constitution, however, was greater than was anticipated.--He recovered
in the course of a few days, so as to be able to engage in his
ordinary pursuits; but many months elapsed before his countenance
exhibited its usual appearance of health.
The Aimwell of Whitby, while cruising the Greenland seas, in the year
1810, had boats in chase of whales on the 26th of May. One of them was
harpooned. But instead of sinking immediately on receiving the wound,
as is the most usual manner of the whale, this individual only dived
for a moment, and rose again beneath the boat, struck it in the most
vicious manner with its fins and tail, stove it, upset it, and then
disappeared. The crew, seven in number, got on the bottom of the boat;
but the unequal action of the lines, which for sometime remained
entangled with the boat, rolled it occasionally over, and thus plunged
the crew repeatedly into the water.--Four of them, after each
immersion, recovered themselves and clung to the boat; but the other
three, one of whom was the only person acquainted with the art of
swimming, were drowned before assistance could arrive. The four men on
the boat being rescued and conveyed to the ship, the attack on the
whale was continued and two more harpoons struck.--But the whale
irritated, instead of being enervated by its wounds, recommenced its
furious conduct. The sea was in a foam. Its tail and fins wore in
awful play; and in a short time, harpoon after harpoon drew out, the
fish was loosened from its entanglements and escaped.
In the fishery of 1812, the Henrietta of Whitby suffered a similar
loss. A fish which was struck very near the ship, by a blow of its
tail, stove a small hole in the boat's bow. Every individual shrinking
from the side on which the blow was impressed, aided the influence of
the stroke, and upset the boat. They all clung to it while it was
bottom up; but the line having got entangled among the thwarts,
suddenly drew the boat under water, and with it part of the crew.
Excessive anxiety among the people in the ship, occasioned delay in
sending assistance, so that when the first boat arrived at the spot,
two survivors only out of six men were found.
During a fresh gale of wind in the season of 1809, one of the
Resolution's harpooners struck a sucking whale. Its mother being near,
all the other boats were disposed around, with the hope of entangling
it. The old whale pursued a circular route round its cub, and was
followed by the boats; but its velocity was so considerable, that they
were unable to keep pace with it. Being in the capacity of harpooner
on this occasion myself, I proceeded to the chase, after having
carefully marked the proceedings of the fish. I selected a situation,
in which I conceived the whale would make its appearance, and was in
the act of directing my crew to cease rowing, when a terrible blow was
struck on the boat. The whale I never saw, but the effect of the blow
was too important to be overlooked. About fifteen square feet of the
bottom of the boat were driven in; it filled, sunk, and upset in a
moment. Assistance was providentially at hand, so that we were all
taken up without injury, after being but a few minutes in the water.
The whale escaped; the boat's lines fell out and were lost, but the
boat was recovered.
A remarkable instance of the power which the whale possesses in its
tail, was exhibited within my own observation, in the year 1807. On
the 29th of May, a whale was harpooned by an officer belonging to the
Resolution. It descended a considerable depth; and, on its
re-appearance, evinced an uncommon degree of irritation. It made such
a display of its fins and tail, that few of the crew were hardy enough
to approach it. The captain, (Captain Scoresby's father,) observing
their timidity, called a boat, and himself struck a second harpoon.
Another boat immediately followed, and unfortunately advanced too far.
The tail was again reared into the air, in a terrific attitude,--the
impending blow was evident,--the harpooner, who was directly
underneath, leaped overboard,--and the next moment the threatened
stroke was impressed on the centre of the boat, which it buried in the
water. Happily no one was injured. The harpooner who leaped overboard,
escaped certain death by the act,--the tail having struck the very
spot on which he stood. The effects of the blow were astonishing. The
keel was broken,--the gunwales, and every plank, excepting two, were
cut through,--and it was evident that the boat would have been
completely divided, had not the tail struck directly upon a coil of
lines. The boat was rendered useless.
Instances of disasters of this kind, occasioned by blows from the
whale, could be adduced in great numbers,--cases of boats being
destroyed by a single stroke of the tail, are not unknown,--instances
of boats having been stove or upset, and their crews wholly or in part
drowned, are not unfrequent,--and several cases of whales having made
a regular attack upon every boat which came near them, dashed some in
pieces, and killed or drowned some of the people in them, have
occurred within a few years even under my own observation.
The Dutch ship Gort-Moolen, commanded by Cornelius Gerard Ouwekaas,
with a cargo of seven fish, was anchored in Greenland in the year
1660. The captain, perceiving a whale a-head of his ship, beckoned his
attendants, and threw himself into a boat. He was the first to
approach the whale; and was fortunate enough to harpoon it before the
arrival of the second boat, which was on the advance. Jacques Vienkes,
who had the direction of it, joined his captain immediately
afterwards, and prepared to make a second attack on the fish, when it
should remount again to the surface. At the moment of its ascension,
the boat of Vienkes happening unfortunately to be perpendicularly
above it, was so suddenly and forcibly lifted up by a stroke of the
head of the whale, that it was dashed to pieces before the harpooner
could discharge his weapon.
Vienkes flew along with the pieces of the boat, and fell upon the back
of the animal. This intrepid seaman, who still retained his weapon in
his grasp, harpooned the whale on which he stood; and by means of the
harpoon and the line, which he never abandoned, he steadied himself
firmly upon the fish, notwithstanding his hazardous situation, and
regardless of a considerable wound that he received in his leg in his
fall along with the fragments of the boat. All the efforts of the
other boats to approach the whale, and deliver the harpooner, were
futile. The captain, not seeing any other method of saving his
unfortunate companion, who was in some way entangled with the line,
called to him to cut it with his knife, and betake himself to
swimming. Vienkes, embarrassed and disconcerted as he was, tried in
vain to follow this counsel. His knife was in the pocket of his
drawers; and, being unable to support himself with one hand, he could
not get it out. The whale, meanwhile, continued advancing along the
surface of the water with great rapidity, but fortunately never
attempted to dive. While his comrades despaired of his life, the
harpoon by which he held, at length disengaged itself from the body of
the whale. Vienkes being thus liberated, did not fail to take
advantage of this circumstance; he cast himself into the sea, and by
swimming, endeavored to regain the boats which continued the pursuit
of the whale. When his shipmates perceived him struggling with the
waves, they redoubled their exertions. They reached him just as his
strength was exhausted, and had the happiness of rescuing this
adventurous harpooner from his perilous situation.
Captain Lyons of the Raith of Leith, while prosecuting the
whale-fishery on the Labrador coast, in the season of 1802, discovered
a large whale at a short distance from the ship. Four boats were
dispatched in pursuit, and two of them succeeded in approaching it so
closely together, that two harpoons were struck at the same moment.
The fish descended a few fathoms in the direction of another of the
boats, which was on the advance, rose accidentally beneath it, struck
it with its head, and threw the boat, men, and apparatus about fifteen
feet into the air. It was inverted by the stroke, and fell into the
water with its keel upwards. All the people were picked up alive by
the fourth boat, which was just at hand, excepting one man, who having
got entangled in the boat, fell beneath it, and was unfortunately
drowned. The fish was soon afterwards killed. The engraving on page
30, is illustrative of this remarkable accident.
In 1822, two boats belonging to the ship Baffin went in pursuit of a
whale. John Carr was harpooner and commander of one of them. The whale
they pursued led them into a vast shoal of his own species; they were
so numerous that their blowing was incessant, and they believed that
they did not see fewer than an hundred. Fearful of alarming them
without striking any, they remained for a while motionless. At last
one rose near Carr's boat, and he approached, and fatally for himself,
harpooned it. When he struck, the fish was approaching the boat; and,
passing very rapidly, jerked the line out of its place over the stern,
and threw it upon the gunwale. Its pressure in this unfavorable
position so careened the boat, that the side was pulled under water,
and it began to fill. In this emergency, Carr, who was a brave, active
man, seized the line, and endeavored to relieve the boat by restoring
it to its place; but, by some circumstance which was never accounted
for, a turn of the line flew over his arm, dragged him overboard in an
instant, and drew him under the water, never more to rise. So sudden
was the accident, that only one man, who was watching him, saw what
had happened; so that when the boat righted, which it immediately did,
though half full of water, the whole crew on looking round inquired
what had become of Carr. It is impossible to imagine a death more
awfully sudden and unexpected. The invisible bullet could not have
effected more instantaneous destruction. The velocity of the whale at
its first descent is from thirteen to fifteen feet per second. Now as
this unfortunate man was adjusting the line at the water's very edge,
where it must have been perfectly tight, owing to its obstruction in
running out of the boat, the interval between the fastening the line
about him and his disappearance could not have exceeded the third part
of a second of time, for in one second only he must have been dragged
ten or twelve feet deep. Indeed he had not time for the least
exclamation; and the person who saw his removal, observed that it was
so exceeding quick that though his eye was upon him at the moment, he
could scarcely distinguish his figure as he disappeared.
[Illustration: INSTRUMENTS USED IN THE WHALE FISHERY.
1. A common Harpoon.
2. A Pricker.
3. A sharp Spade, used in cutting up a Whale.
4. A Harpoon which is fired from a gun.
5. A Lance, to kill the Whale after he has been harpooned.]
As soon as the crew recovered from their consternation, they applied
themselves to the needful attention which the lines required. A second
harpoon was struck from the accompanying boat on the raising of the
whale to the surface, and some lances were applied, but this
melancholy occurrence had cast such a damp on all present, that they
became timid and inactive in their subsequent duties. The whale when
nearly exhausted was allowed to remain some minutes unmolested, till
having recovered some degree of energy, it made a violent effort and
tore itself away from both harpoons. The exertions of the crews thus
proved fruitless, and were attended with serious loss.
Innumerable instances might be adduced of the perils and disasters to
which our whalemen are subject; of their never tiring fortitude and
daring enterprise; but we believe the examples we have given alone
will sufficiently convey a full and correct idea of the customs and
dangers of the whale-fishery.
[Illustration]
THE NARWAL, OR SEA-UNICORN,
Is a species of the Whale, and seldom exceeds twenty-two feet long.
Its body is slenderer than that of the whale, and its fat not in so
great abundance. But this great animal is sufficiently distinguished
from all others of the deep, by its tooth or teeth, which stand
pointing directly forward from the upper jaw, and are from nine to ten
feet long. In all the variety of weapons with which nature has armed
her various tribes, there is not one so large or so formidable as
this.--This terrible weapon is generally found single; and some are of
opinion that the animal is furnished with but one by nature; but there
is at present the skull of a Narwal at the Stadthouse at Amsterdam,
with two teeth. The tooth, or, as some are pleased to call it, the
horn of the Narwal, is as straight as an arrow, about the thickness of
the small of a man's leg, wreathed as we sometimes see twisted bars of
iron; it tapers to a sharp point; and is whiter, heavier, and harder
than ivory. It is generally seen to spring from the left side of the
head directly forward in a straight line with the body; and its root
enters into the socket above a foot and a half. Notwithstanding its
appointments for combat, this long and pointed tusk, amazing strength,
and matchless celerity, the Narwal is one of the most harmless and
peaceful inhabitants of the ocean. It is seen constantly and
inoffensively sporting among the other great monsters of the deep, no
way attempting to injure them, but pleased in their company. The
Greenlanders call the Narwal the forerunner of the whale; for wherever
it is seen, the whale is shortly after sure to follow. This may arise
as well from the natural passion for society in these animals, as from
both living upon the same food. These powerful fishes make war upon no
other living creature; and, though furnished with instruments to
spread general destruction, are as innocent and as peaceful as a drove
of oxen. The Narwal is much swifter than the whale, and would never be
taken by the fishermen but for those very tusks, which at first appear
to be its principal defence. These animals are always seen in herds of
several at a time; and whenever they are attacked they crowd together
in such a manner, that they are mutually embarrassed by their tusks.
By these they are often locked together, and are prevented from
sinking to the bottom. It seldom happens, therefore, but the fishermen
make sure of one or two of the hindmost, which very well reward their
trouble.
LOSS OF THE BRIG TYRREL.
In addition to the many dreadful shipwrecks already narrated, the
following, which is a circumstantial account given by T. Purnell,
chief mate of the brig Tyrrel, Arthur Cochlan, commander, and the only
person among the whole crew who had the good fortune to escape, claims
our particular attention.
On Saturday, June 29th, 1759, they sailed from New York to Sandy Hook,
and there came to an anchor, waiting for the captain's coming down
with a new boat, and some other articles. Accordingly he came on board
early the succeeding morning, and the boat cleared, hoisted in, stowed
and lashed. At eight o'clock, A. M. they weighed anchor, sailed out of
Sandy Hook, and the same day at noon, took their departure from the
High Land Never Sunk, and proceeded on their passage to Antigua. As
soon as they made sail, the captain ordered the boat to be cast loose,
in order that she might be painted, with the oars, rudder and tiller,
which job, he (Captain Cochlan) undertook to do himself.
At four P. M. they found the vessel made a little more water, than
usual; but as it did not cause much additional labour at the pump,
nothing was thought of it. At eight, the leak did not seem to
increase. At twelve it began to blow very hard in squalls, which
caused the vessel to lie down very much, whereby it was apprehended
she wanted more ballast. Thereupon the captain came on deck, being the
starboard watch, and close reefed both top-sails.
At four A. M. the weather moderated--let out both reefs:--at eight it
became still more moderate, and they made more sail, and set
top-gallant-sails; the weather was still thick and hazy. There was no
further observation taken at present, except that the vessel made more
water. The captain was now chiefly employed in painting the boat,
oars, rudder and tiller.
On Monday, June 30, at four P. M. the wind was at E. N. E. freshened
very much, and blew so very hard, as occasioned the brig to lie along
in such a manner as caused general alarm. The captain was now
earnestly intreated to put for New York, or steer for the Capes of
Virginia. At eight, took in top-gallant-sail, and close reefed both
top-sails, still making more water. Afterwards the weather became
still more moderate and fair, and they made more sail.
July 1, at four A. M. it began to blow in squalls very hard, took in
one reef in each top-sail, and continued so until eight A. M. the
weather being still thick and hazy.--No observation.
The next day she made still more water, but as every watch pumped it
out, this was little regarded. At four P. M. took second reef in each
top-sail,--close reefed both, and sent down top-gallant-yard; the gale
still increasing.
At four A. M. the wind got round to N. and there was no appearance of
its abating. At eight, the captain well satisfied that she was very
crank and ought to have had more ballast, agreed to make for Bacon
Island Road, in North Carolina; and in the very act of wearing her, a
sudden gust of wind laid her down on her beam-end, and she never rose
again!--At this time Mr. Purnell was lying in the cabin, with his
clothes on, not having pulled them off since they left land.--Having
been rolled out of his bed (on his chest,) with great difficulty he
reached the round-house door; the first salutation he met with was
from the step-ladder that went from the quarter-deck to the poop,
which knocked him against the companion, (a lucky circumstance for
those below, as, by laying the ladder against the companion, it served
both him and the rest of the people who were in the steerage, as a
conveyance to windward); having transported the two after guns forward
to bring her more by the head, in order to make her hold a better
wind; thus they got through the aftermost gun-port on the
quarter-deck, and being all on her broadside, every moveable rolled to
leeward, and as the vessel overset, so did the boat, and turned bottom
upwards, her lashings being cast loose, by order of the captain, and
having no other prospect of saving their lives but by the boat,
Purnell, with two others, and the cabin-boy (who were excellent
swimmers) plunged into the water, and with difficulty righted her,
when she was brim full, and washing with the water's edge. They then
made fast the end of the main-sheet to the ring in her stern-post, and
those who were in the fore-chains sent down the end of the
boom-tackle, to which they made fast the boat's painter, and by which
they lifted her a little out of the water, so that she swam about two
or three inches free, but almost full.
They then put the cabin-boy into her, and gave him a bucket that
happened to float by, and he bailed away as quick as he could, and
soon after another person got in with another bucket, and in a short
time got all the water out of her.--They then put two long oars that
were stowed in the larboard-quarter of the Tyrrel into the boat, and
pulled or rowed right to windward; for, as the wreck drifted, she made
a dreadful appearance in the water, and Mr. Purnell and two of the
people put off from the wreck, in search of the oars, rudder and
tiller. After a long while they succeeded in picking them all up, one
after another. They then returned to their wretched companions, who
were all overjoyed to see them, having given them up for lost. By this
time night drew on very fast. While they were rowing in the boat, some
small quantity of white biscuit (Mr. Purnell supposed about half a
peck,) floated in a small cask, out of the round house; but before it
came to hand, it was so soaked with salt water, that it was almost in
a fluid state: and about double the quantity of common ship-biscuit
likewise floated, which was in like manner soaked. This was all the
provision that they had; not a drop of fresh water could they get;
neither could the carpenter get at any of his tools to scuttle her
sides, for, could this have been accomplished, they might have saved
plenty of provisions and water.
By this time it was almost dark; having got one compass, it was
determined to quit the wreck, and take their chance in the boat, which
was nineteen feet six inches long, and six feet four inches broad; Mr.
Purnell supposes it was now about nine o'clock; it was very dark.
They had run abut 360 miles by their dead reckoning, on a S. E. by E.
course. The number in the boat was 17 in all; the boat was very deep,
and little hopes were entertained of either seeing land or surviving
long. The wind got round to westward, which was the course they wanted
to steer; but it began to blow and rain so very hard, that they were
obliged to keep before the wind and sea, in order to preserve her
above water. Soon after they had put off from the wreck the boat
shipped two heavy seas, one after another, so that they were obliged
to keep her before the wind and sea; for had she shipped another sea,
she certainly would have swamped with them.
By sunrise the next morning, July 3, they judged that they had been
running E. S. E. which was contrary to their wishes. The wind dying
away, the weather became very moderate. The compass which they had
saved proved of no utility, one of the people having trod upon, and
broken it; it was accordingly thrown overboard. They now proposed to
make a sail of some frocks and trowsers, but they had got neither
needles nor sewing twine, one of the people however, had a needle in his
knife, and another several fishing lines in his pockets, which were
unlaid by some, and others were employed in ripping the frocks and
trowsers. By sunset they had provided a tolerable lug-sail; having split
one of the boat's thwarts, (which was of yellow deal,) with a very large
knife, which one of the crew had in his pocket, they made a yard and
lashed it together by the strands of the fore-top-gallant-halyards, that
were thrown into the boat promiscuously.--They also made a mast of one
of the long oars, and set their sails, with sheets and tacks made out of
the top-gallant-halyards. Their only guide was the North star. They had
a tolerable good breeze all night; and the whole of the next day, July
4, the weather continued very moderate, and the people were in as good
spirits as their dreadful situation would admit.
July 5, the wind and weather continued much the same, and they knew by
the North star that they were standing in for the land. The next day
Mr. Purnell observed some of the men drinking salt water, and seeming
rather fatigued.--At this time they imagined the wind was got round to
the southward, and they steered, as they thought by the North star, to
the northwest quarter; but on the 7th, they found the wind had got
back to the northward, and blew very fresh. They got their oars out
the greatest part of the night, and the next day the wind still dying
away, the people laboured alternately at the oars, without
distinction. About noon the wind sprung up so that they laid in their
oars, and, as they thought, steered about N. N. W. and continued so
until about eight or nine in the morning of July 9, when they all
thought they were upon soundings, by the coldness of the water.--They
were, in general, in very good spirits. The weather continued still
thick and hazy, and by the North star, they found that they had been
steering about N. by W.
July 10.--The people had drank so much salt water, that it came from
them as clear as it was before they drank it; and Mr. Purnell
perceived that the second mate had lost a considerable share of his
strength and spirits; and also, at noon, that the carpenter was
delirious, his malady increasing every hour; about dusk he had almost
overset the boat, by attempting to throw himself overboard, and
otherwise behaving quite violent.
As his strength, however, failed him, he became more manageable, and
they got him to lie down in the middle of the boat, among some of the
people. Mr. Purnell drank once a little salt water, but could not
relish it; he preferred his own urine, which he drank occasionally as
he made it. Soon after sunset the second mate lost his speech. Mr.
Purnell desired him to lean his head on him; he died, without a groan
or struggle, on the 11th of July, being the 9th day they were in the
boat. In a few minutes after, the carpenter expired almost in a
similar manner. These melancholy scenes rendered the situation of the
survivors more dreadful; it is impossible to describe their feelings.
Despair became general; every man imagined his own dissolution was
near. They all now went to prayers; some prayed in the Welch language,
some in Irish, and others in English; then, after a little
deliberation, they stripped the two dead men, and hove them overboard.
The weather being now very mild, and almost calm, they turned to,
cleaned the boat, and resolved to make their sail larger out of the
frocks and trowsers of the two deceased men. Purnell got the captain
to lie down with the rest of the people, the boatswain and one man
excepted, who assisted him in making the sail larger, which they had
completed by six or seven o'clock in the afternoon, having made a
shroud out of the boat's painter, which served as a shifting
back-stay.--Purnell also fixed his red flannel waistcoat at the
mast-head, as a signal the most likely to be seen.
Soon after this some of them observed a sloop at a great distance,
coming, as they thought, from the land. This roused every man's
spirits; they got out their oars, at which they laboured alternately,
exerting all their remaining strength to come up with her; but night
coming on, and the sloop getting a fresh breeze of wind, they lost
sight of her, which occasioned a general consternation; however, the
appearance of the North star, which they kept on their starboard-bow,
gave them hopes that they stood in for land. This night one William
Wathing died; he was 64 years of age, and had been to sea 50 years;
quite worn out with fatigue and hunger, he earnestly prayed, to the
last moment, for a drop of water to cool his tongue. Early the next
morning Hugh Williams also died, and in the course of the day another
of the crew: entirely exhausted,--they both expired without a groan.
Early in the morning of July 13, it began to blow very fresh, and
increased so much, that they were obliged to furl their sail, and keep
the boat before the wind and sea, which drove them off soundings. In
the evening their gunner died. The weather now becoming moderate and
the wind in the S. W. quarter, they made sail, not one being able to
row or pull an oar at any rate; they ran all this night with a fine
breeze.
The next morning (July 14) two more of the crew died, and in the
evening they also lost the same number. They found they were on
soundings again, and concluded the wind had got round to the N. W.
quarter. They stood in for the land all this night, and early on July
12 two others died; the deceased were thrown overboard as soon as
their breath had departed. The weather was now thick and hazy, and
they were still certain that they were on soundings.
The cabin-boy was seldom required to do any thing, and as his
intellects, at this time, were very good, and his understanding clear,
it was the opinion of Mr. Purnell that he would survive them all, but
he prudently kept his thoughts to himself. The captain seemed likewise
tolerably well, and to have kept up his spirits. On account of the
haziness of the weather, they could not so well know how they steered
in the day time as at night; for, whenever the North star appeared,
they endeavored to keep it on their starboard bow, by which means they
were certain of making the land some time or other. In the evening two
more of the crew died, also, before sunset, one Thomas Philpot, an old
experienced seaman, and very strong; he departed rather convulsed;
having latterly lost the power of articulation, his meaning could not
be comprehended. He was a native of Belfast, Ireland, and had no
family. The survivors found it a difficult task to heave his body
overboard, as he was a very corpulent man.
About six or seven the next morning, July 16, they stood in for the
land, according to the best of their judgment, the weather still thick
and hazy. Purnell now prevailed upon the captain and boatswain of the
boat to lie down in the fore-part of the boat, to bring her more by
the head, in order to make her hold a better wind. In the evening the
cabin-boy, who lately appeared so well, breathed his last, leaving
behind, the captain, the boatswain and Mr. Purnell.
The next morning, July 17, Mr. Purnell asked his two companions if
they thought they could eat any of the boy's flesh; and having
expressed an inclination to try, and the body being quite cold, he cut
the inside of his thigh, a little above his knee, and gave a piece to
the captain and boatswain, reserving a small piece for himself; but so
weak were their stomachs that none of them could swallow a morsel of
it, the body was therefore thrown overboard.
Early in the morning of the 18th, Mr. Purnell found both of his
companions dead and cold! Thus destitute, he began to think of his own
dissolution; though feeble, his understanding was still clear, and his
spirits as good as his forlorn situation could possibly admit. By the
colour and coldness of the water, he knew he was not far from land,
and still maintained hopes of making it. The weather continued very
foggy. He lay to all this night, which was very dark, with the boat's
head to the northward.
In the morning of the 19th, it began to rain; it cleared up in the
afternoon, and the wind died away; still Mr. Purnell was convinced he
was on soundings.
On the 20th, in the afternoon, he thought he saw land, and stood in
for it; but night coming on, and it being now very dark, he lay to,
fearing he might get on some rocks and shoals.
July 21, the weather was very fine all the morning, but in the
afternoon it became thick and hazy. Mr. Purnell's spirits still
remained good, but his strength was almost exhausted; he still drank
his own water occasionally.
On the 22d he saw some barnacles on the boat's rudder, very similar to
the spawn of an oyster, which filled him with greater hopes of being
near land. He unshipped the rudder, and scraping them off with his
knife, found they were of a salt fishy substance, and eat them; he was
now so weak, the boat having a great motion, that he found it a
difficult task to ship the rudder.
At sunrise, July 23, he became so sure that he saw land, that his
spirits were considerably raised. In the middle of this day he got up,
leaned his back against the mast, and received succour from the sun,
having previously contrived to steer the boat in this position. The
next day he saw, at a very great distance, some kind of a sail, which
he judged was coming from the land, which he soon lost sight of. In
the middle of the day he got up, and received warmth from the sun as
before. He stood on all night for the land.
Very early in the morning of the 25th, after drinking his morning
draught, to his inexpressible joy he saw, while the sun was rising, a
sail, and when the sun was up, found she was a two-mast vessel. He
was, however, considerably perplexed, not knowing what to do, as she
was a great distance astern and to the leeward. In order to watch her
motions better, he tacked about. Soon after this he perceived she was
standing on her starboard tack, which had been the same he had been
standing on for many hours. He saw she approached him very fast, and
he lay to for some time, till he believed she was within two miles of
the boat, but still to leeward; therefore he thought it best to steer
larger, when he found she was a top-sail schooner, nearing him very
fast.--He continued to edge down towards her, until he had brought her
about two points under his lee-bow, having it in his power to spring
his luff, or bear away. By this time she was within half a mile, and
he saw some of her people standing forwards on her deck and waiving
for him to come under their lee-bow.
At the distance of about 200 yards they hove the schooner up in the
wind, and kept her so until Purnell got alongside, when they threw him
a rope, still keeping the schooner in the wind. They now interrogated
him very closely; by the manner the boat and oars were painted, they
imagined she belonged to a man of war, and that they had run away with
her from some of his Majesty's ships at Halifax, consequently that
they would be liable to some punishment if they took him up; they also
thought, as the captain and boatswain were lying dead in the boat,
they might expose themselves to some contagious disorder. Thus they
kept Purnell in suspense for some time. They told him they had made
the land that morning from the mast-head, and that they were running
along shore for Marblehead, to which place they belonged, and where
they expected to be the next morning. At last they told him he might
come on board; which as he said, he could not without assistance, the
captain ordered two of his men to help him.--They conducted him aft on
the quarter deck, where they left him resting on the companion.
They were now for casting the boat adrift, but Mr. Purnell told them
she was not above a month old, built at New York, and if they would
hoist her in, it would pay them well for their trouble. To this they
agreed, and having thrown the two corpses overboard, and taken out the
clothes that were left by the deceased, they hoisted her in and made
sail.
Being now on board, Purnell asked for a little water, Captain
Castleman (for that was his name) ordered one of his sons, (having two
on board) to fetch him some; when he came with the water, his father
looked to see how much he was bringing him, and thinking it too much,
threw some of it away, and desired him to give the remainder, which
he drank being the first fresh water he had tasted for 23 days. As he
leaned all this time against the companion, he became very cold, and
begged to go below; the captain ordered two men to help him down to
the cabin, where they left him sitting on the cabin-deck, leaning upon
the lockers, all hands being now engaged in hoisting in and securing
the boat. This done, all hands went down to the cabin to breakfast,
except the man at the helm. They made some soup for Purnell, which he
thought very good, but at present he could eat very little, and in
consequence of his late draughts, he had broke out in many parts of
his body, so that he was in great pain whenever he stirred. They made
a bed for him out of an old sail, and behaved very attentive. While
they were at breakfast a squall of wind came on, which called them all
upon deck; during their absence, Purnell took up a stone bottle, and
without smelling or tasting it, but thinking it was rum, took a hearty
draught of it, and found it to be sweet oil; having placed it where he
found it, he lay down.
They still ran along shore with the land in sight, and were in great
hopes of getting into port that night, but the wind dying away, they
did not get in till nine o'clock the next night. All this time Purnell
remained like a child; some one was always with him, to give him
whatever he wished to eat or drink.
As soon as they came to anchor, Captain Castleman went on shore, and
returned on board the next morning with the owner, John Picket, Esq.
Soon after they got Purnell into a boat, and carried him on shore; but
he was still so very feeble, that he was obliged to be supported by
two men. Mr. Picket took a very genteel lodging for him, and hired a
nurse to attend him; he was immediately put to bed, and afterwards
provided with a change of clothes. In the course of the day he was
visited by every doctor in the town, who all gave him hopes of
recovering, but told him it would be some time, for the stronger the
constitution, the longer (they said) it took to recover its lost
strength. Though treated with the utmost tenderness and humanity, it
was three weeks before he was able to come down stairs. He stayed in
Marblehead two months, during which he lived very comfortably, and
gradually recovered his strength. The brig's boat and oars were sold
for 95 dollars, which paid all his expenses, and procured him a
passage to Boston. The nails of his fingers and toes withered away
almost to nothing, and did not begin to grow for many months after.
THE LOSS OF THE PEGGY.
On the 28th of September, 1785, the Peggy, commanded by Capt. Knight,
sailed from the harbor of Waterford, Ireland, for the port of New
York, in America.
Here it is necessary to observe, that the Peggy was a large unwieldy
Dutch-built ship, about eight hundred tons burden, and had formerly
been in the Norway, and timber trade, for which, indeed, she seemed,
from her immense bulk, well calculated. There being no freight in
readiness for America, we were under the necessity of taking in
ballast: which consisted of coarse gravel and sand, with about fifty
casks of stores, fresh stock, and vegetables, sufficient to last
during the voyage; having plenty of room, and having been most
abundantly supplied by the hospitable neighbourhood, of which we were
about to take our leave.
We weighed anchor, and with the assistance of a rapid tide and
pleasant breeze, soon gained a tolerable offing: we continued under
easy sail the remaining part of the day, and towards sunset lost sight
of land.
Sept. 29th, made the old head of Kingsale; the weather continuing
favorable, we shortly came within sight of Cape Clear, from whence we
took our departure from the coast of Ireland.
Nothing material occurred for several days, during which time we
traversed a vast space of the Western Ocean.
Oct. 12th, the weather now became hazy and squally;--all hands turned
up to reef top-sails, and strike top-gallant-yards.--Towards night the
squalls were more frequent, indicating an approaching gale:--We
accordingly clued, reefed top-sails, and struck top-gallant-masts; and
having made all snug aloft, the ship weathered the night very
steadily.
On the 13th the crew were employed in setting up the rigging, and
occasionally pumping, the ship having made much water during the
night. The gale increasing as the day advanced, occasioned the vessel
to make heavy rolls, by which an accident happened, which was near
doing much injury to the captain's cabin. A puncheon of rum, which was
lashed on the larboard side of the cabin, broke loose, a sudden jerk
having drawn assunder the cleats to which it was fastened. By its
velocity it stove in the state-rooms, and broke several utensils of
the cabin furniture. The writer of this, with much difficulty, escaped
with whole limbs; but not altogether unhurt, receiving a painful
bruise on the right foot: having, however, escaped from the cabin, the
people on deck were given to understand that the rum was broken loose.
The word rum soon attracted the sailor's attention, and this cask
being the ship's only stock, they were not tardy (as may be supposed)
in rendering their assistance to double lash, what they
anticipated--the delight, of frequently splicing the mainbrace
therewith during their voyage.
On the 14th the weather became moderate, and the crew were employed in
making good the stowage of the stores in the hold, which had given way
during the night;--shaking reefs out of the top-sails, getting up
top-gallant-masts and yards, and rigging out studding-sails. All hands
being now called to dinner, a bustle and confused noise took place on
deck. The captain (who was below) sent the writer of this to discover
the cause thereof, but before he could explain, a voice was crying out
in a most piteous and vociferous tone. The captain and chief mate
jumped on deck, and found the crew had got the cook laid on the
windlass, and were giving him a most severe cobbing with a flat piece
of his own fire wood. As soon as the captain had reached forward, he
was much exasperated with them for their precipitate conduct, in
punishing without his knowledge and permission, and having prohibited
such proceedings in future cases, he inquired the cause of their
grievance. The cook, it seems, having been served out fresh water to
dress vegetables for all hands, had inadvertently used it for some
other purpose, and boiled the greens in a copper of salt water, which
rendered them so intolerably tough, that they were not fit for use;
consequently the sailors had not their expected garnish, and a general
murmur taking place, the above punishment was inflicted.
A steady breeze ensuing, all sails filled and the ship made way, with
a lofty and majestic air; and at every plunge of her bows, which was
truly Dutch-built, rose a foam of no small appearance.
During four days the weather continued favorable, which flattered the
seamen with a speedy sight of land.
On the 19th we encountered a very violent gale, with an unusual heavy
sea:--The ship worked greatly, and took in much water through her
seams:--the pumps were kept frequently going. At mid-day, while the
crew were at dinner, a tremendous sea struck the ship right aft, which
tore in the cabin windows, upset the whole of the dinner, and nearly
drowned the captain, mate, and myself, who was at that time holding a
dish on the table, while the captain was busily employed in carving a
fine goose, which, much to our discomfiture, was entirely drenched by
the salt-water. Some of the coops were washed from the quarter-deck,
and several of the poultry destroyed.
In consequence of the vessel shipping so great a quantity of water,
the pumps were doubly manned, and soon gained on her. The gale had not
in the least abated during the night. The well was plumbed, and there
was found to be a sudden and alarming increase of water. The carpenter
was immediately ordered to examine the ship below, in order to find
the cause of the vessel's making so much water. His report was, she
being a very old vessel, her seams had considerably opened by her
laboring so much, therefore, could devise no means at present to
prevent the evil. He also reported, the mizen-mast to be in great
danger.
The heel of the mizen-mast being stepped between decks (a very unusual
case, but probably it was placed there in order to make more room for
stowage in the after-hold) was likely to work from its step, and
thereby might do considerable damage to the ship.
The captain now held a consultation with the officers, when it was
deemed expedient to cut the mast away without delay: this was
accordingly put into execution the following morning, as soon as the
day made its appearance. The necessary preparations having been made,
the carpenter began hewing at the mast, and quickly made a deep wound.
Some of the crew were stationed ready to cut away the stays and
lanyards, whilst the remaining part was anxiously watching the
momentary crash which was to ensue; the word being given to cut away
the weather-lanyards, as the ship gave a lee-lurch, the whole of the
wreck of the mast plunged, without further injury, into the ocean.
The weather still threatening a continuance, our principal employ was
at the pumps, which were kept continually going. The sea had now rose
to an alarming height, and frequently struck the vessel with great
violence. Towards the afternoon part of the starboard bulwark was
carried away by the shock of a heavy sea, which made the ship
broach-to, and before she could answer her helm again, a sea broke
through the fore-chains, and swept away the caboose and all its
utensils from the deck; fortunately for the cook he was assisting at
the pumps at the time, or he inevitably must have shared the same fate
as his galley.
Notwithstanding the exertions of the crew, the water gained fast, and
made its way into the hold, which washed a great quantity of the
ballast through the timber-holes into the hull, by which the suckers
of the pumps were much damaged, and thereby frequently choaked. By
such delays the leaks increased rapidly. We were under the necessity
of repeatedly hoisting the pumps on deck, to apply different means
which were devised to keep the sand from entering, but all our efforts
proved ineffectual, and the pumps were deemed of no further utility.
There was now no time to be lost; accordingly it was agreed that the
allowance of fresh water should be lessened to a pint a man; the casks
were immediately hoisted from the hold, and lashed between decks. As
the water was started from two of them, they were sawed in two, and
formed into buckets, there being no other casks on board fit for that
purpose; the whips were soon applied, and the hands began bailing at
the fore and after hatchways which continued without intermission the
whole of the night, each man being suffered to take one hour's rest,
in rotation.
The morning of the 22d presented to our view a most dreary aspect,--a
dismal horizon encircling--not the least appearance of the gale
abating--on the contrary, it seemed to come with redoubled vigor--the
ballast washing from side to side of the ship at each roll, and scarce
a prospect of freeing her. Notwithstanding these calamities, the crew
did not relax their efforts. The main-hatchway was opened and fresh
buckets went to work; the captain and mate alternately relieving each
other at the helm. The writer's station was to supply the crew with
grog, which was plentifully served to them every two hours. By the
motion of the ship the buckets struck against the combings of the
hatchways with great violence, and in casting them in the hold to
fill, they frequently struck on the floating pieces of timber which
were generally used as chocks in stowing the hold. By such accidents
the buckets were repeatedly stove, and we were under the necessity of
cutting more of the water casks to supply their place. Starting the
fresh water overboard was reluctantly done, particularly as we now
felt the loss of the caboose, and were under the necessity of eating
the meat raw which occasioned us to be very thirsty. Night coming on,
the crew were not allowed to go below to sleep; each man, when it came
to his turn, stretched himself on the deck.
Oct. 23. Notwithstanding the great quantity of water bailed from the
vessel, she gained so considerably that she had visibly settled much
deeper in the water. All hands were now called aft, in order to
consult on the best measures. It was now unanimously resolved to make
for the island of Bermudas, it being the nearest land. Accordingly we
bore away for it, but had not sailed many leagues before we found that
the great quantity of water in the vessel had impeded her steerage so
much that she would scarcely answer her helm; and making a very heavy
lurch, the ballast shifted, which gave her a great lift to the
starboard, and rendered it very difficult to keep a firm footing on
deck. The anchors which were stowed on the larboard bow were ordered
to be cut away, and the cables which were on the orlop deck to be hove
overboard in order to right her; but all this had a very trifling
effect, for the ship was now become quite a log.
The crew were still employed in baling; one of whom, in preventing a
bucket from being stove against the combings, let go his hold, and
fell down the hatchway; with great difficulty he escaped being drowned
or dashed against the ship's sides. Having got into a bucket which was
instantly lowered, he was providentially hoisted on deck without any
injury.
During the night the weather became more moderate, and on the
following morning, (Oct. 25), the gale had entirely subsided, but left
a very heavy swell. Two large whales approached close to the ship.
They sported around the vessel the whole of the day, and after dusk
disappeared.
Having now no further use of the helm, it was lashed down, and the
captain and mate took their spell at the buckets. My assistance having
been also required, a boy of less strength, whose previous business
was to attend the cook, now took my former station of serving the crew
with refreshments. This lad had not long filled his new situation of
drawing out rum from the cask, before he was tempted to taste it, and
which having repeatedly done he soon became intoxicated, and was
missed on deck for some time. I was sent to look for him. The spigot I
perceived out of the cask, and the liquor running about, but the boy I
could not see for some time; however looking down the lazeretto (the
trap-door of which was lying open), I found him fast asleep. He had
luckily fallen on some sails which were stowed there, or he must have
perished.
On the 26th and 27th of Oct. the weather continued quite clear, with
light baffling winds. A man was constantly kept aloft to look out for
a sail. The rest of the crew were employed at the whips.
On the 28th the weather began to lower, and appeared inclined for
rain. This gave some uneasiness, being apprehensive of a gale. The
captain therefore directed the carpenter to overhaul the long-boat,
caulk her, and raise a streak which orders were immediately complied
with; but when he went to his locker for oakum, he found it plundered
of nearly the whole of his stock--all hands were therefore set to
picking, by which means he was soon supplied.
It was totally clear on the 29th, with a fresh breeze, but the ship
heeled so much that her gunwale at times was under water, and the crew
could scarcely stand on deck. All hands were now ordered to assemble
aft, when the captain in a short address, pointed out the most
probable manner by which they could be saved. All agreed in opinion
with him, and it was resolved that the long-boat should be hoisted out
as speedily as possible, and such necessaries as could be conveniently
stowed, to be placed in her. Determined no longer to labor at the
buckets, the vessel, which could not remain above water many hours
after we had ceased baling, was now abandoned to her fate.
I now began to reflect on the small chance we had of being
saved--twenty-two people in an open boat--upwards of three hundred
miles from the land--in a boisterous climate, and the whole crew worn
out with fatigue! The palms of the crew's hands were already so flayed
it could not be expected that they could do much execution with the
oars--while thus reflecting on our perilous situation, one of our
oldest seamen, who at this moment was standing near me, turned his
head aside to wipe away a tear--I could not refrain from sympathizing
with him--my heart was already full;--the captain perceiving my
despondency bade me be of good cheer, and called me a young lubber.
The boat having been hoisted out, and such necessaries placed in her
as were deemed requisite, one of the hands was sent aloft to lash the
colors downwards to the main-top-mast shrouds; which having done, he
placed himself on the crosstrees, to look around him, and almost
instantly hallooed out,--"A sail."--It would be impossible to describe
the ecstatic emotions of the crew: every man was aloft, in order to be
satisfied; though, a minute before, not one of the crew was able to
stand upright.
The sail was on our weather-bow, bearing right down on us with a
smart breeze. She soon perceived us, but hauled her wind several
times, in order to examine our ship. As she approached nearer she
clearly perceived our calamitous situation, and hastened to our
relief.
She proved to be a Philadelphia schooner, bound to Cape Francois, in
St. Domingo. The captain took us all on board in the most humane and
friendly manner, and after casting our boat adrift, proceeded on his
voyage. When we perceived our ship from the vessel on which we were
now happily on board, her appearance was truly deplorable.
The captain of the schooner congratulated us on our fortunate escape,
and expressed his surprise that the ship should remain so long on her
beam ends, in such a heavy sea, without capsizing. We soon began to
distance the wreck, by this time very low in the water, and shortly
after lost sight of her.
The evening began to approach fast, when a man loosing the
main-top-sail, descried a sail directly in the same course on our
quarter. We made sail for her, and soon came within hail of her. She
proved to be a brig from Glasgow, bound to Antigua. It was now
determined, between the captains, that half of our people should
remain in the schooner, and the captain, mate, eight of the crew, and
myself, should get on board the brig. On our arrival at Antigua we met
with much kindness and humanity.
LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY'S SHIP LITCHFIELD.
The Litchfield, Captain Barton, left Ireland on the 11th of November,
1758, in company with several other men of war and transports, under
the command of Commodore Keppel, intended for the reduction of Goree.
The voyage was prosperous till the 28th, when at eight in the evening
I took charge of the watch, and the weather turned out very squally
with rain. At nine it was extremely dark, with much lightning, the
wind varying from S. W. to W. N. W. At half past nine, had a very hard
squall. Captain Barton came upon deck and staid till ten; then left
orders to keep sight of the commodore, and to make what sail the
weather would permit. At eleven, saw the commodore bearing south, but
the squalls coming on so heavy, were obliged to hand the
main-top-sail, and at twelve o'clock, were under our courses.
November the 29, at one in the morning, I left the deck in charge of
the first lieutenant; the light, which we took to be the commodore's
right ahead, bearing S. wind W. S. W. blowing very hard; at six in the
morning I was awakened by a great shock, and a confused noise of the
men on deck. I ran up, thinking some ship had run foul of us, for, by
my own reckoning, and that of every other person in the ship, we were
at least 35 leagues distant from land; but, before I could reach the
quarter-deck, the ship gave a great stroke upon the ground, and the
sea broke all over her. Just after this, I could perceive the land,
rocky, rugged and uneven, about two cables' length from us. The ship
lying with her broadside to windward, the masts soon went overboard,
carrying some men with them. It is impossible for any one but a
sufferer to feel our distress at this time; the masts, yards, and
sails hanging alongside in a confused heap; the ship beating violently
upon the rocks; the waves curling up to an incredible height, then
dashing down with such force as if they would immediately have split
the ship to pieces, which we, indeed, every moment expected. Having a
little recovered from our confusion, saw it necessary to get every
thing we could over to the larboard side, to prevent the ship from
heeling off, and exposing the deck to the sea. Some of the people were
very earnest to get the boats out contrary to advice; and, after much
intreaty, notwithstanding a most terrible sea, one of the boats was
launched, and eight of the best men jumped into her, but she had
scarcely got to the ship's stern, when she was whirled to the bottom,
and every soul in her perished. The rest of the boats were soon washed
to pieces on the deck.--We then made a raft of the davit, capstan-bars
and some boards, and waited with resignation, for divine Providence to
assist us.
The ship soon filled with water, so that we had no time to get any
provision up; the quarter-deck and poop were now the only place we
could stand on with security, the waves being mostly spent by the time
they reached us, owing to the fore part of the ship breaking them.
At four in the afternoon, perceiving the sea to be much abated, one
of our people attempted to swim, and got safe on shore. There were
numbers of Moors upon the rocks ready to take hold of any one, and
beckoned much for us to come ashore, which, at first we took for
kindness, but they soon undeceived us, for they had not the humanity
to assist any that was entirely naked, but would fly to those who had
any thing about them, and strip them before they were quite out of the
water, wrangling among themselves about the plunder; in the mean time
the poor wretches were left to crawl up the rocks if they were able,
if not, they perished unregarded. The second lieutenant and myself,
with about sixty-five others, got ashore before dark, but were left
exposed to the weather on the cold sand. To preserve ourselves from
perishing of cold, were obliged to go down to the shore, and to bring
up pieces of the wreck to make a fire. While thus employed, if we
happened to pick up a shirt or handkerchief, and did not give it to
the Moors at the first demand, the next thing was a dagger presented
to our breast.
They allowed us a piece of an old sail, which they did not think worth
carrying off; with this we made two tents, and crowded ourselves into
them, sitting between one another's legs to preserve warmth, and make
room. In this uneasy situation, continually bewailing our misery, and
that of our poor shipmates on the wreck, we passed a most tedious
night, without so much as a drop of water to refresh ourselves,
excepting what we caught through our sail-cloth covering.
November the 30th, at six in the morning, went down with a number of
our men upon the rocks, to assist our shipmates in coming ashore, and
found the ship had been greatly shattered in the night. It being now
low water, many attempted to swim ashore; some got safe, but others
perished. The people on board got the raft into the water, and about
fifteen men placed themselves upon it. They had no sooner put off from
the wreck, than it overturned; most of the men recovered it again,
but, scarcely were they on, before it was a second time overturned.
Only three or four got hold of it again, and all the rest perished. In
the mean time, a good swimmer brought with much difficulty a rope
ashore, which I had the good fortune to catch hold of just when he was
quite spent, and had thoughts of quitting it.
Some people coming to my assistance, we pulled a large rope ashore
with that, and made it fast round a rock. We found this gave great
spirits to the poor souls upon the wreck, it being hauled taught from
the upper part of the stern, made an easy descent to any who had art
enough to walk or slide upon a rope, with a smaller rope fixed above
to hold by. This was a means of saving a number of lives, though many
were washed off by the impetuous surf, and perished. The flood coming
on, raised the surf, and prevented any more from coming at that time,
so that the ropes could be of no further use. We then retired from the
rocks; and hunger prevailing, set about boiling some of the drowned
turkeys, &c. which with some flour mixed into a paste, and baked upon
the coals, constituted our first meal upon this barbarous coast. We
found a well of fresh water about a half a mile off, which very much
refreshed us. But we had scarcely finished this coarse repast, when
the Moors, who were now grown numerous, drove us all down to the rocks
to bring up empty iron bound casks, pieces of the wreck which had the
most iron about them, and other articles.
About three o'clock in the afternoon we made another meal on the
drowned poultry, and finding this was the best provision we were
likely to have; some were ordered to save all they could find, others
to raise a larger tent, and the rest sent down to the rocks to look
for people coming ashore. The surf greatly increasing with the flood,
and breaking upon the fore-part of the ship, she was divided into
three parts; the fore-part turned keel up, the middle part soon dashed
into a thousand pieces; the fore-part of the poop likewise fell at
this time, and about thirty men with it, eight of whom got ashore with
our help, but so bruised, that we despaired of their recovery. Nothing
but the after-part of the poop now remained above water, and a very
small part of the other decks, on which our captain, and about 130
more remained, expecting every wave to be their last. Every shock
threw some off; few or none of whom came on shore alive. During this
distress the Moors laughed uncommonly, and seemed much diverted, when
a wave larger than usual, threatened the destruction of the poor
wretches on the wreck. Between four and five o'clock the sea was
decreased with the ebb; the rope being still secure, the people began
to venture upon it; some tumbled off and perished, but others reached
the shore in safety.
About five, we beckoned as much as possible for the captain to come
upon the rope, as this seemed to be as good an opportunity as any we
had seen; and many arrived in safety with our assistance. Some told us
that the captain was determined to stay till all the men had quitted
the wreck however, we still continued to beckon for him, and before it
was dark, saw him come upon the rope. He was closely followed by a
good able seaman, who did all he could to keep up his spirits and
assist him in warping. As he could not swim, and had been so many
hours without refreshment, with the surf hurling him violently along,
he was unable to resist the force of the waves, had lost his hold of
the great rope, and must inevitably have perished had not a wave
thrown him within the reach of our ropes, which he had barely
sufficient sense to catch hold of. We pulled him up, and after resting
a short time on the rocks, he came to himself, and walked up to the
tent, desiring us to continue to assist the rest of the people in
coming on shore.
The villains, (the Moors), would have stripped him, though, he had
nothing on but a plain waistcoat and breeches, if we had not plucked
up a little spirit and opposed them; upon which they thought proper to
desist. The people continued to come ashore, though many perished in
the attempt. The Moors, at length, growing tired with waiting for so
little plunder, would not suffer us to remain on the rocks, but drove
us all away. I then, with the captain's approbation, went, and by
signs made humble supplication to the bashaw, who was in the tent,
dividing the valuable plunder. He understood us at last, and gave us
permission to go down, at the same time sending some Moors with us. We
carried fire-brands down to let the poor souls on the wreck see that
we were still there in readiness to assist them. About nine at night
finding that no more men would venture upon the rope, as the surf was
again greatly increased, we retired to the tent, leaving by the
account of the last man arrived, between thirty and forty souls still
upon the wreck. We now thought of stowing every body in the tent, and
began by fixing the captain in the middle. Then made every man lie
down on his side, as we could not afford them each a breadth; but,
after all, many took easier lodging in empty casks.
The next morning the weather was moderate and fair.--We found the
wreck all in pieces on the rocks, and the shore covered with lumber.
The people upon the wreck all perished about one in morning. In the
afternoon we called a muster, and found the number of the survivors to
be 220; so that 130 perished on this melancholy occasion.
On the 2d of December, the weather still continued moderate. We
subsisted entirely on the drowned stock, and a little pork to relish
it, and the flour made into cakes; all of which we issued regularly
and sparingly, being ignorant whether the Moors would furnish us with
any thing, they being still very troublesome, and even wanting to rob
us of the canvass which covered our tent.
At two in the afternoon a black servant arrived, sent by Mr. Butler, a
Dane, factor to the African Company at Saffy at the distance of about
thirty miles, to inquire into our condition and to offer us
assistance. The man having brought pens, ink and paper, the captain
sent back a letter by him.--Finding there was one who offered us help,
it greatly refreshed our afflicted hearts.
In the afternoon of the following day, we received a letter from Mr.
Butler, with some bread and a few other necessaries. On the 4th, the
people were employed in picking up pieces of sails, and whatever else
the Moors would permit them. We divided the crew into messes, and
served the necessaries we received the preceding day. They had bread
and the flesh of the drowned stock. In the afternoon we received
another letter from Mr. Butler, and one at the same time from Mr.
Andrews, an Irish gentleman, a merchant at Saffy. The Moors were not
so troublesome now as before, most of them going off with what they
had got.
On the 5th the drowned stock was entirely consumed, and at low water
the people were employed in collecting muscles. At ten in the morning,
Mr. Andrews arrived, bringing a French surgeon with medicines and
plaisters, of which, some of the men who had been dreadfully bruised,
stood in great need.--The following day, we served out one of the
blankets of the country to every two men, and pampooses, a kind of
slippers, to those who were in most want of them. These supplies were
likewise brought us by Mr. Andrews. The people were now obliged to
live upon muscles and bread, the Moors, who promised us a supply of
cattle, having deceived us, and never returned.
The people on the 7th were still employed in collecting muscles and
limpets. The Moors began to be a little civil to us, for fear the
emperor should punish them for their cruel treatment to us. In the
afternoon, a messenger arrived from the emperor at Sallee, with
general orders to the people to supply us with provisions. They
accordingly brought us some lean bullocks and sheep which Mr. Andrews
purchased for us; but at this time we had no pots to make broth in,
and the cattle were scarcely fit for any thing else.
In the morning of the 10th, we made preparations for marching to
Morocco, the emperor having sent orders for that purpose, and camels
to carry the lame and necessaries. At nine, set off with about thirty
camels, having got all our liquor with us, divided into hogsheads, for
the convenience of carriage on the camels. At noon, joined the crews
of one of the transports and a bomb-tender, that had been wrecked
about three leagues to the northward of us. We were then all mounted
upon camels, excepting the captain, who was furnished with a horse. We
never stopped till seven in the evening, when they procured two tents
only, which would not contain one third of the men, so that most of
them lay exposed to the dew, which was very heavy, and extremely cold.
We found our whole number to be 388, including officers, men, boys,
three women and a child, which one of the women brought ashore in her
teeth.
On the 11th, continued our journey, attended by a number of Moors on
horseback. At six in the evening we came to our resting place for that
night, and were furnished with tents sufficient to cover all our men.
At five in the morning of the 12th, we set out as before, and, at two
in the afternoon, saw the emperor's cavalcade at a distance. At three,
a relation of the emperor's, named Muli Adriz, came to us, and told
the captain it was the emperor's orders, he should that instant write
a letter to our governor at Gibraltar, to send to his Britanic Majesty
to inquire whether he would settle a peace with him or not. Captain
Barton immediately sat down upon the grass and wrote a letter, which,
being given to Muli Adriz, he went and joined the emperor again. At
six in the evening came to our resting place for the night, and were
well furnished with tents, but very little provisions.
We were, the following day, desired to continue on the same spot, till
the men were refreshed, and this repose they greatly needed, and we
received a better supply of provisions. That morning, Lieutenant
Harrison commanding the soldiers belonging to Lord Forbes's regiment
died suddenly in the tent. In the evening, while employed with his
interment, the inhuman Moors disturbed us by throwing stones and
mocking us. The next day we found that they had opened the grave and
stripped the body.
On the 16th, we continued our journey, came to our resting place at
four in the afternoon, pitched the tents, and served out the
provision. Here our people were ill-treated by the country Moors. As
they were taking water from a brook, the Moors would always spit into
the vessel before they would suffer them to take it away. Upon this
some of us went down to inquire into the affair, but were immediately
saluted with a shower of stones. We ran in upon them, beat some of
them pretty soundly, put them to flight, and brought away one who
thought to defend himself with a long knife. This fellow was severely
punished by the officer who had the charge of conducting us.
The two succeeding days continued our journey, and, at three in the
afternoon of the 18th, arrived at the City of Morocco, without having
seen a single habitation during the whole journey. Here we were
insulted by the rabble, and, at five, were carried before the emperor,
surrounded by five or six hundred of his guards. He was on horseback
before the gate of his palace, that being the place where he
distributes justice to his people. He told Captain Barton, by an
interpreter, that he was neither at peace nor war with England, and he
would detain us till an ambassador arrived from that country to
conclude a permanent treaty. The captain then desired that we might
not be treated as slaves. He answered hastily, that we should be taken
care of. We were then immediately hurried out of his presence,
conveyed to two old ruinous houses, shut up amidst dirt and
innumerable vermin of every description. Mr. Butler being at Morocco
on business, came and supplied us with victuals and drink, and
procured liberty for the captain to go home with him to his lodgings.
He likewise sent some blankets for the officers, and we made shift to
pass the night with tolerable comfort, being very much fatigued.
At nine in the morning of the 21st, the emperor sent orders for the
captain and every officer to appear before him. We immediately
repaired to his palace; we remained waiting in an outer yard two
hours; in the mean time he diverted himself with seeing a clumsy Dutch
boat rowed about in a pond by four of our petty officers. About noon
we were called before him, and placed in a line about thirty yards
from him. He was sitting in a chair by the side of the pond,
accompanied only by two of his chief alcaides. Having viewed us some
time, he ordered the captain to come forward, and after asking him a
good many questions concerning our navy, and the destination of the
squadron to which we had belonged, we were also called forward by two
and three at a time as we stood according to our rank. He then asked
most of us some very insignificant questions, and took some to be
Portuguese because they had black hair, and others to be Swedes
because their hair was light. He judged none of us to be English
excepting the captain, the second lieutenant, the ensign of the
soldiers, and myself. But assuring him we were all English, he cried
Bonno, and gave a nod for our departure, to which we returned a very
low bow, and were glad to return to our old ruined houses again. Our
total number amounted to thirty.
On the 25th, being Christmas-day, prayers were read to the people as
usual in the church of England. The captain this day received a
present of tea and loaves of sugar from one of the queens, whose
grandfather had been an English renegado.
In the afternoon of the 26th, we received the disagreeable
intelligence, that the emperor would oblige all the English to work,
like all the other Christian slaves, excepting the officers who were
before him on the 21st. The next day this account was confirmed; for,
at seven in the morning, an alcaide came and ordered all our people
out to work, excepting the sick. Upon our application eight were
allowed to stay at home every day to cook for the rest, and this
office was performed by turns throughout the whole number. At four in
the afternoon the people returned, some having been employed in
carrying wood, some in turning up the ground with hoes, and others in
picking weeds in the emperor's garden. Their victuals were prepared
for them against their return.
On the 28th all the people went to work as soon as they could see, and
returned at four in the afternoon. Two of the soldiers received one
hundred bastinadoes each, for behaving in a disrespectful manner while
the emperor was looking at their work.
On the 30th, Captain Barton received a kind message from the emperor,
with permission to ride out or take a walk in his garden with his
officers.
From this time the men continued in the same state of slavery till the
arrival, in April, of Captain Milbank, sent as an ambassador to the
emperor. He concluded a treaty for the ransom of the crew of the
Litchfield, together with the other English subjects in the emperor's
power, and the sum stipulated to be paid for their release, was
170,000 dollars. Our people accordingly set out for Sallee, attended
by a bashaw and two soldiers on horseback. On the fourth day of their
march, they had a skirmish with some of the country Moors. The dispute
began in consequence of some of our men in the rear stopping at a
village to buy some milk, for which, after they had drank it, the
Moors demanded an exorbitant price. This our men refused to give, on
which the Moors had recourse to blows, which our people returned; and
others coming to their assistance, they maintained a smart battle,
till the enemy became too numerous. In the meantime some rode off to
call the guard, who instantly came up with their drawn scimetars, and
dealt round them pretty briskly. During this interval we were not
idle, and had the pleasure to see the blood trickling down a good many
of their faces. The guards seized the chief man of the village, and
carried him before the bashaw, who was our conductor, and who having
heard the cause dismissed him without further punishment, in
consideration of his having been well drubbed by us.
On the 22d of April, we arrived at Sallee, and pitched our tents in an
old castle, whence we soon afterwards embarked on board the Gibraltar,
which landed us at Gibraltar on the 27th of June. From that place the
captain and crew were put on board the Marlborough store ship,
prepared expressly for their reception, and arrived in England in the
month of August, 1760.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
WRECK OF THE ROTHSAY CASTLE STEAMER.
The Rothsay Castle was a steam packet which formerly traded on the
Clyde. She belonged to the line of steamers which sailed from
Liverpool to Beaumaris and Bangor, and was furnished with one engine
only. She was commanded by Lieut. Atkinson. At ten o'clock on
the -- of August, 1831 the vessel was appointed to sail from the usual
place, George's Pierhead, but a casual delay took place in starting,
and it was eleven o'clock before she had got every thing in readiness.
Whilst taking passengers on board, a carriage arrived at the Pierhead
for embarkation. It belonged to M. W. Foster, Esq. of Regent's park,
London, who, with his wife and servant, were conveyed in it to the
packet, and took their passage at the same time. They were all
subsequently drowned, a little dog which accompanied them being the
only survivor of this unfortunate group. When the steamer left the
Pierhead her deck was thronged with passengers. The captain, crew,
musicians, &c. amounted to fifteen, in addition to whom, it was
supposed by persons who saw the vessel sail that one hundred and ten
or one hundred and twenty souls were on board. The majority of the
passengers consisted of holyday and family parties, chiefly from
country places; and in one of these companies, who came on a journey
of pleasure from Bury, the hand of death committed a merciless
devastation. It consisted of twenty-six persons; in the morning,
joyous with health and hilarity, they set out upon the waves, and when
the shades of that evening approached, every soul but two saw his last
of suns go down.
The weather was not particularly boisterous at the time she sailed. A
severe storm however, had raged in the morning and must have agitated
the water on the Banks more than usual. The wind too, blew strongly
from the north-west, and the vessel had to contend with the tide,
which began to flow soon after she passed the rock. When the steamer
arrived off the Floating-light, which is stationed about fifteen miles
from Liverpool, the roughness of the sea alarmed many of the
passengers.--One of the survivors stated, that Mr. Tarry, of Bury,
who, with his family, consisting of himself, his wife, their five
children, and servant, was on board, being, in common with others,
greatly alarmed for his own safety and the safety of those dear to
him, went down to the cabin, where the captain was at dinner, and
requested him to put back. His reply was, "I think there is a great
deal of fear on board, and very little danger. If we were to turn back
with passengers, it would never do--we should have no profit." To
another gentleman who urged him to put back, he is reported to have
said very angrily, "I'm not one of those that turn back." He remained
in the cabin two whole hours, and peremptorily refused to comply with
the repeated requests made to him by the more timid of his passengers
to return to Liverpool; observing that if they knew him, they would
not make the request. Before dinner, his behavior had been
unexceptionable; but, after he had dined, a very striking difference
was observed in his conduct. He became violent in his manner, and
abusive in his language to the men. When anxiously questioned by the
passengers, as to the progress the vessel was making, and the time at
which she was likely to reach her destination, he returned trifling,
and frequently very contradictory answers. During the early part of
the voyage, he had spoken confidently of being able to reach Beaumaris
by seven o'clock; but the evening wore away, night came on, and the
vessel was still a considerable distance from the termination of her
voyage. It was near twelve o'clock when they arrived at the mouth of
the Menai Strait, which is about five miles from Beaumaris. The tide,
which had been running out of the strait, and which had, consequently,
for some time previous retarded the steamer's progress towards her
destination, was just on the turn. The vessel, according to the
statement of two of the seamen and one of the firemen saved, had got
round the buoy on the north end of the Dutchman's Bank, and had
proceeded up the river as far as the tower on Puffin Island; when
suddenly the steam got so low that the engine would not keep her on
her proper course. When asked, why there was not steam on, the fireman
said that a deal of water had been finding its way into the vessel
all day, and that sometime before she got into the strait, the
bilge-pumps were choked. The water in the hold then overflowed the
coals; so that, in renewing the fires, a deal of water went in with
the coals, and made it impossible to keep the steam up. It was the
duty of the fireman to give notice of this occurrence; but he seems
not to have mentioned it to the captain. The vessel, which had
evidently come fair into the channel, though there was no light on the
coast to guide her, now drifted, with the ebb tide and north-west
wind, towards the Dutchman's Bank, on the north point of which she
struck, her bows sticking fast in the sand. Lieut. Atkinson
immediately ordered the man at the helm to put the helm a starboard.
The man refused to do so; but put it to port. The mate, perceiving
this, ran aft, took the helm from the man, and put it to starboard
again.--In the meantime, the captain and some of the passengers got
the jib up.--No doubt he did this intending to wear her round and
bring her head to the northward; but in the opinion of nautical men,
it could not make the least difference which way her head was turned,
as she was on a lee shore, and there was no steam to work her off. The
captain also ordered the passengers first to run aft, in the hope, by
removing the pressure from the vessel's stem, to make her float: this
failing to produce the desired effect, he then ordered them to run
forward. All the exertions of the captain, the crew and passengers
united were unavailing. The ill-fated vessel stuck still faster in the
sands, and all gave themselves up for lost. The terror of the
passengers became excessive. Several of them urged the captain to
hoist lights, and make other signals of distress; but he positively
refused to do so, assuring the passengers that there was no danger,
and telling them several times, that the packet was afloat, and doing
well, and on her way; when the passengers knew perfectly well that she
was sticking fast in the sand, and her cabins rapidly filling with
water. Doubtless the unfortunate man was perfectly aware of the
imminence of the danger; but we may charitably suppose, that he held
such language for the purpose of preventing alarm which might be
fatal. The alarm bell was now rung with so much violence that the
clapper broke, and some of the passengers continued to strike it for
some time with a stone. The bell was heard, it is said, at Beaumaris,
but, as there was no light hoisted on the mast of the steamer, (a
fatal neglect!) those who heard the signal were, of course, ignorant
whence it proceeded. The weather, at this awful moment, was
boisterous, but perfectly clear. The moon, though slightly overcast,
threw considerable light on the surrounding objects.--But a strong
breeze blew from the north-west, the tide began to set in with great
strength, and a heavy sea beat over the bank on which the steam packet
was now firmly and immovably fixed.
We cannot describe the scene which followed. Certain death seemed now
to present itself to all on board, and the most affecting scenes were
exhibited. The females, in particular, uttered the most piercing
shrieks; some locked themselves in each others arms, while others,
losing all self-command, tore off their caps and bonnets, in the
wildness of despair. A Liverpool pilot, who happened to be in the
packet, now raised his voice and exclaimed, "It is all over--we are
all lost!" At these words there was a universal despairing shriek. The
women and children collected in a knot together, and kept embracing
each other, keeping up, all the time, the most dismal lamentations.
When tired with crying they lay against each other, with their heads
reclined, like inanimate bodies. The steward of the vessel and his
wife, who was on board, lashed themselves to the mast, determined to
spend their last moments in each other's arms. Several husbands and
wives also met their fate locked in each other's arms; whilst parents
clung to their beloved children,--several mothers it is said, having
perished with their dear little ones firmly clasped in their arms. A
party of the passengers, about fifteen or twenty, lowered the boat and
crowded into it. It was impossible for any open boat to live in such a
sea, even though not overloaded, and she immediately swamped and went
to the bottom, with all who had made this last hopeless effort for
self-preservation.
For some time the vessel, though now irrecoverably lost, continued to
resist the action of the waves, and the despairing souls on board
still struggled with their doom. But hope had forever fled; the packet
was beaten and tossed about by the tumultuous waters with a violence
which threatened to dash her into fragments at every shock, and the
sea now made a continual breach over her. The decks were repeatedly
swept by the boiling ocean, and each billow snatched its victims to a
watery grave. The unfortunate captain and his mate were among the
first that perished. About thirty or forty passengers were standing
upon the poop clinging to each other in hopeless agony, and
occasionally uttering the most piteous ejaculations. Whilst trembling
thus upon the brink of destruction, and expecting every moment to
share the fate which had already overtaken so many of their companions
in misery, the poop was discovered to give way; another wave rolled on
with impetuous fury, and the hinder part of the luckless vessel, with
all who sought safety in its frail support, was burst away from its
shattered counterpart, and about forty wretched beings hurried through
the foaming flood into an eternal world.
"Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,
Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave."
Those who retained any degree of sensibility endeavored to catch at
whatever was floating within their reach, with the vain hope of
prolonging their lives though it was certain that life could only
lengthen their sufferings. Many grasped with frantic despair, at the
slightest object they could find, but were either too weak to retain
their hold, or were forced to relinquish their grasp by the raging of
the surge. The rudder was seized by eight of the sinking creatures at
the same time, and some of them, were ultimately preserved. The number
of those who clung to the portion of the wreck which remained upon the
bank gradually grew thinner and thinner, as they sunk under their
fatigues, or were hurled into the deep by the remorseless waves. At
length, about an hour and a half from the time when she struck, the
remnant of the Rothsay Castle disappeared from the bosom of the ocean,
and the remainder of her passengers and crew were precipitated into
the foaming abyss.
SHIPWRECK OF THE FRENCH SHIP DROITS DE L'HOMME.
On the 5th of January, 1797, returning home on leave of absence from
the West Indies, in the Cumberland letter of marque, for the recovery
of my health, saw a large man of war off the coast of Ireland, being
then within four leagues of the mouth of the river Shannon. She
hoisted English colours, and decoyed us within gun-shot, when she
substituted the tri-coloured flag, and took us. She proved to be les
Droits de L'Homme, of 74 guns, commanded by the ci-devant baron, now
citizen La Crosse, and had separated from a fleet of men of war, on
board of which were twenty thousand troops, intended to invade
Ireland. On board of this ship was General Humbert, who afterwards
effected a descent into Ireland (in 1799) with nine hundred troops and
six hundred seamen.
On the 7th of January went into Bantry Bay to see if any of the
squadron was still there, and on finding none, the ship proceeded to
the southward. Nothing extraordinary occurred until the evening of the
13th, when two men of war hove in sight, which afterwards proved to be
the Indefatigable and Amazon frigates. It is rather remarkable that
the captain of the ship should inform me, that the squadron which was
going to engage him was Sir Edward Pellow's, and declared, as was
afterwards proved by the issue, "that he would not yield to any two
English frigates, but would sooner sink his ship with every soul on
board." The ship was then cleared for action, and we English
prisoners, consisting of three infantry officers, two captains of
merchantmen, two women, and forty-eight seamen and soldiers, were
conducted down to the cabin tier at the foot of the fore-mast.
The action began with opening the lower deck ports, which, however
were soon shut again, on account of the great sea, which occasioned
the water to rush in to that degree that we felt it running on the
cables. I must here observe, that this ship was built on a new
construction, considerably longer than men of war of her rate, and her
lower-deck, on which she mounted thirty-two pounders French, equal to
forty pounders English, was two feet and a half lower than usual. The
situation of the ship, before she struck on the rocks, has been fully
elucidated by Sir Edward Pellow, in his letter of the 17th of January,
to Mr. Nepeau. The awful task is left for me to relate what ensued.
At about four in the morning a dreadful convulsion, at the foot of the
fore-mast, roused us from a state of anxiety for our fate, to the idea
that the ship was sinking. It was the fore-mast that fell over the
side; in about a quarter of an hour an awful mandate from above was
re-echoed from all parts of the ship; Pouvores Anglais! Pouvores
Anglais! Montez bien vite nous sommes tous perdus!--"poor Englishmen!
poor Englishmen! come on deck as fast as you can, we are all lost!"
Every one rather flew than climbed. Though scarcely able to move
before, from sickness, yet I now felt an energetic strength in all my
frame, and soon gained the upper deck, but what a sight! dead, wounded
and living, intermingled in a state too shocking to describe; not a
mast standing, a dreadful loom of the land, and breakers all around
us.--The Indefatigable, on the starboard quarter, appeared standing
off, in a most tremendous sea, from the Penmark rocks, which
threatened her with instant destruction. To the great humanity of her
commander, those few persons who survived the shipwreck, are indebted
for their lives, for had another broadside been fired, the commanding
situation of the Indefatigable must have swept off at least a thousand
men. On the starboard side was seen the Amazon within two miles, just
struck on the shore. Our own fate drew near. The ship struck and
immediately sunk! Shrieks of horror and dismay were heard from all
quarters, while the merciless waves tore from the wreck many early
victims. Day-light appeared, and we beheld the shore lined with people
who could render us no assistance. At low water, rafts were
constructed, and the boats were got in readiness to be hoisted out.
The dusk arrived, and an awful sight ensued. The dawn of the second
day brought with it still severer miseries than the first, for the
wants of nature could scarcely be endured any longer, having been
already near thirty hours without any means of subsistence, and no
possibility of procuring them.
At low water a small boat was hoisted out, and an English captain and
eight sailors succeeded in getting to the shore.--Elated at the
success of these men all thought their deliverance at hand, and many
launched out on their rafts, but, alas! death soon ended their hopes.
Another night renewed our afflictions. The morning of the third,
fraught with still greater evils, appeared; our continued sufferings
made us exert the last effort, and we English prisoners, tried every
means to save as many of our fellow creatures as lay in our power.
Larger rafts were constructed, and the largest boat was got over the
side. The first consideration was to lay the surviving wounded, the
women and helpless men in the boat, but the idea of equality, so
fatally promulgated among the French, destroyed all subordination, and
nearly one hundred and twenty having jumped into the boat, in defiance
of their officers, they sunk her.--The most dreadful sea that I ever
saw seemed at that moment to aggravate our calamity; nothing of the
boat was seen for a quarter of an hour, when the bodies floated in
all directions; then appeared, in all their horrors, the wreck, the
shores, the dying and the drowned! Indefatigable in acts of humanity,
an adjutant general, Renier, launched himself into the sea, to obtain
succours from the shore, and perished in the attempt.
Nearly one half the people had already perished, when the horrors of
the fourth night renewed all our miseries. Weak, distracted, and
destitute of every thing, we envied the fate of those whose lifeless
corpses no longer wanted sustenance.--The sense of hunger was already
lost, but a parching thirst consumed our vitals. Recourse was had to
urine and salt water, which only increased the wants; half a hogshead
of vinegar indeed floated up, of which each had half a wine glass; it
afforded a momentary relief, but soon left us again in the same state
of dreadful thirst. Almost at the last gasp, every one was dying with
misery, and the ship, now one third shattered away from the stern,
scarcely afforded a grasp to hold by, to the exhausted and helpless
survivors.
The fourth day brought with it a more serene sky, and the sea seemed
to subside, but to behold, from fore to aft, the dying in all
directions, was a sight too shocking for the feeling mind to endure.
Almost lost to a sense of humanity, we no longer looked with pity on
those whom we considered only as the forerunners of our own speedy
fate, and a consultation took place, to sacrifice some one to be food
for the remainder. The die was going to be cast, when the welcome
sight of a man of war brig renewed our hopes.
A cutter speedily followed, and both anchored at a short distance from
the wreck. They then sent their boats to us, and by means of large
rafts, about one hundred, out of four hundred who attempted, were
saved by the brig that evening.--Three hundred and eighty were left to
endure another night's misery, when, dreadful to relate, above one
half were found dead the next morning!
I was saved about ten o'clock on the morning of the 18th, with my
brother officers, the captain of the ship, and General Humbert. They
treated us with great humanity on board the cutter, giving us a little
weak brandy and water every five or six minutes, and after that a
bason of good soup. I fell on the locker in a kind of trance for near
thirty hours, and swelled to such a degree as to require medical aid
to restore my decayed faculties. Having lost all our baggage, we were
taken to Brest almost naked, where they gave us a rough shift of
clothes, and in consequence of our sufferings, and the help we
afforded in saving many lives, a cartel was fitted out by order of the
French Government to send us home, without ransom or exchange. We
arrived at Plymouth on the 7th of March following.
To that Providence, whose great workings I have experienced in this
most awful trial of human afflictions, be ever offered the tribute of
my praise and thanksgiving.
THE LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY'S SHIP, QUEEN CHARLOTTE.
The Queen Charlotte was, perhaps, one of the finest ships in the
British navy. She was launched in 1790, and her first cruise was with
the fleet fitted out against Spain, in consequence of the dispute
respecting Nootka Sound. Lord Howe, who was the commander and chief of
the fleet, was then on board of her; and she also bore his lordship's
flag on the first of June. After which she was sent to the
Mediterranean, and was the flag-ship of the commander in chief on that
station. In March, 1800, she was despatched by that nobleman to
reconnoitre the island of Cabrera, about thirty leagues from Leghorn,
then in the possession of the French, and which it was his lordship's
intention to attack. On the morning of the 17th the ship was
discovered to be on fire, at the distance of three or four leagues
from Leghorn. Every assistance was promptly forwarded from the shore,
but a number of boats, it appears, were deterred from approaching the
wreck, in consequence of the guns, which were shotted, and which, when
heated by the fire, discharged their contents in every direction.
The only consolation that presents itself under the pressure of so
calamitous a disaster is, that it was not the effect either of
treachery or wilful neglect, as will appear by the following official
statement of the carpenter:--
"Mr. John Braid, carpenter of the Queen Charlotte, reports, that
twenty minutes after 6 o'clock in the morning, as he was dressing
himself he heard throughout the ship a general cry of 'fire.' On which
he immediately ran up the after-ladder to get upon deck, and found the
whole half-deck, the front bulk-head of the admiral's cabin, the
main-mast's coat, and boat's covering on the booms, all in flames;
which, from every report and probability, he apprehends was occasioned
by some hay, which was lying under the half-deck, having been set on
fire by a match in a tub, which was usually kept there for signal
guns.--The main-sail at this time was set, and almost entirely caught
fire; the people not being able to come to the clue garnets on account
of the flames.
"He immediately went to the fore-castle, and found Lieut. Dundas and
the boatswain encouraging the people to get water to extinguish the
fire. He applied to Mr. Dundas, seeing no other officer in the
fore-part of the ship (and being unable to see any on the
quarter-deck, from the flames and smoke between them) to give him
assistance to drown the lower-decks, and secure the hatches, to
prevent the fire falling down. Lieut. Dundas accordingly went down
himself, with as many people as he could prevail upon to follow him:
and the lower-deck ports were opened, the scuppers plugged, the main
and fore-hatches secured, the cocks turned, and water drawn in at the
ports, and the pumps kept going by the people who came down, as long
as they could stand at them.
"He thinks that by these exertions the lower-deck was kept free from
fire, and the magazines preserved for a long time from danger; nor did
Lieut. Dundas, or he, quit this station, but remained there with all
the people who could be prevailed upon to stay, till several of the
middle-deck guns came through that deck.
"About nine o'clock Lieut. Dundas and he, finding it impossible to
remain any longer below, went out at the fore-mast lower deck port,
and got upon the fore-castle; on which he apprehends there were then
about one hundred and fifty of the people drawing water, and throwing
it as far aft as possible upon the fire.
"He continued about an hour on the fore-castle; and finding all
efforts to extinguish the flames unavailing, he jumped from the
jib-boom, and swam to an American boat approaching the ship, by which
he was picked up and put into a Tartan then in the charge of Lieut.
Stewart, who had come off to the assistance of the ship.
(Signed) "JOHN BRAID."
Leghorn, March 18, 1800.
Capt. Todd remained upon deck, with his First Lieutenant, to the last
moment, giving orders for saving the crew, without thinking of his own
safety. Before he fell a sacrifice to the flames, he had time and
courage to write down the particulars of this melancholy event, for
the information of Lord Keith, of which he gave copies to different
sailors, entreating them, that whoever should escape might deliver it
to the admiral.
Thus fell victims to perhaps a too severe duty, the captain and his
first lieutenant, at a time when they still had it in their power to
save themselves; but self-preservation is never a matter of
consideration in the exalted mind of a British naval officer, when the
safety of his crew is at stake.
Lord Keith and some of the officers were providentially on shore, at
Leghorn, when the dreadful accident occurred. Twenty commissioned and
warrant officers, two servants and 142 seamen, are the whole of the
crew that escaped destruction out of nearly 900 souls on board, that
for nearly four hours exerted every nerve to avoid that dreadful
termination which too surely awaited them.
A SCENE ON THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.
On the morning of the 5th of August, 1833, during a severe gale in
lat. 46, lon. 31, Capt. Dempsey, of the ship Kingston, discovered at a
short distance to leeward, a brig lying on her beam ends, with flag of
distress waving. Capt. D. instantly bore down towards her, when she
proved to be the Albion, of Cork, crowded with passengers. Having
reached within hail of the unfortunate vessel, a heart-rending scene
presented itself. "We beheld," says Capt. Dempsey, "the brig reeling
ere she took the farewell plunge--witnessed the cool intrepidity of
the sailors, even at such a moment--and listened, with feelings the
most harrowing, to the piercing shrieks of the ill-fated passengers.
The crew of the Kingston flung their best boat into the boiling
Atlantic, but every exertion was vain--the angry ocean soon made her
its prey. The Albion went down with every human soul on board."
[Illustration: DEPARTURE OF THE FRENCH FRIGATE MEDUSA]
SHIPWRECK OF THE FRENCH FRIGATE MEDUSA.
_On the Western Coast of Africa. By MADAME DARD, one of the
Sufferers._
In the year 1816, an expedition was fitted out by the French to go and
resume possession of Senegal, which had been restored to them.--My
father was reinstated in his place of resident attorney, and taking
with him his family repaired immediately to Rochefort to embark on
board the Medusa frigate.
Early on the morning of the 12th of June, we were on our way to the
boats that were to convey us on board the Medusa, which was riding at
anchor off the island of Aix, distant about four leagues from
Rochefort. The field through which we passed was sown with corn.
Wishing before I left our beautiful France, to make my farewell to the
flowers, and, whilst our family went leisurely forward to the place
where we were to embark upon the Charente, I crossed the furrows, and
gathered a few blue-bottles and poppies. We soon arrived at the place
of embarkation, where we found some of our fellow passengers, who,
like myself, seemed casting a last look to Heaven, whilst they were
yet on the French soil.--We embarked, however and left these happy
shores. In descending the tortuous course of the Charente, contrary
winds so impeded our progress, that we did not reach the Medusa till
the morrow, having taken twenty-four hours in sailing four leagues. At
length we mounted the deck of the Medusa, of painful memory. When we
got on board, we found our berths not provided for us, consequently
were obliged to remain indiscriminately together till the next day.
Our family, which consisted of nine persons, was placed in a berth
near the main deck. As the wind was still contrary, we lay at anchor
for seventeen days.
On the 17th of June, at four in the morning, we set sail as did the
whole expedition, which consisted of the Medusa frigate, the Loire
store-ship, the Argus brig and the Echo corvette. The wind being
favorable, we soon lost sight of the green fields of l'Aunis. At six
in the morning, however, the island of Rhe still appeared above the
horizon. We fixed our eyes upon it with regret, to salute for the last
time our dear country. Now, imagine the ship borne aloft, and
surrounded by huge mountains of water, which at one moment tossed it
in the air, and at another plunged it into the profound abyss.
The waves, raised by a stormy northwest breeze, came dashing in a
horrible manner against the sides of our ship.--I knew not whether it
was a presentiment of the misfortune which menaced us that had made me
pass the preceding night in the most cruel inquietude. In my
agitation, I sprang upon deck, and contemplated with horror the
frigate winging its way upon the waters. The winds pressed against the
sails with great violence, strained and whistled among the cordage;
and the great bulk of wood seemed to split every time the surge broke
upon its sides. On looking a little out to sea I perceived at no great
distance on our right, all the other ships of the expedition, which
quieted me very much. Towards ten in the morning the wind changed;
immediately an appalling cry was heard, concerning which the
passengers, as well as myself, were equally ignorant. The whole crew
were in motion. Some climbed the rope ladders, and seemed to perch on
the extremities of the yards; others mounted to the highest parts of
the mast; these bellowing and pulling the cordages in cadence; those
crying, swearing, whistling, and filling the air with barbarous and
unknown sounds. The officer on duty, in his turn, roaring out these
words, starboard, larboard, hoist, luff, tack, which the helmsman
repeated in the same tone. All this hubbub, however, produced its
effect; the yards were turned on their pivots, the sails set, the
cordage tightened, and the unfortunate sea-boys having received their
lesson descended to the deck. Every thing remained tranquil, except
that the waves still roared, and the masts continued their creaking.
However the sails were swelled, the wind less violent, though
favorable, and the mariner, while he caroled his song, said we had a
noble voyage.
During several days we did indeed enjoy a delightful passage. All the
ships of the expedition still kept together, but at length the breeze
became changeable, and they all disappeared. The Echo, however, still
kept in sight, and persisted in accompanying us, as if to guide us on
our route. The wind becoming more favorable, we held due south,
sailing at the rate of sixty-two leagues a day. The sea was so fine,
and our journey so rapid, that I began to think it nearly as agreeable
to travel by sea as by land; but my illusion was not of long duration.
On the 28th of June, at six in the morning, we discovered the Peak of
Teneriffe, towards the south, the summit of whose cone seemed lost in
the clouds. We were then distant about two leagues, which we made in
less than a quarter of an hour. At ten o'clock we brought to before
the town of St. Croix. Several officers got leave to go on shore to
procure refreshments.
While these gentlemen were away, a certain passenger, member of the
self-instituted Philanthropic Society of Cape Verd, suggested that it
was very dangerous to remain where we were, adding that he was well
acquainted with the country, and had navigated in all these latitudes.
M. Le Roy Lachaumareys, captain of the Medusa, believing the pretended
knowledge of the intriguing Richefort, gave him the command of the
frigate. Various officers of the navy, represented to the captain how
shameful it was to put such confidence in a stranger, and they would
never obey a man who had no character as a commander. The captain
despised these wise remonstrances; and, using his authority, commanded
the pilots, and all the crew, to obey Richefort; saying he was king,
since the orders of the king were, that they should obey him.
Immediately the imposter, desirous of displaying his great skill in
navigation, made them change the route, for no purpose, but that of
showing his skill in manoeuvring the ship.--Every instant he changed
the tack, went, came and returned, and approached the very reefs, as
if to brave them; in short, he beat about so much, that the sailors at
length refused to obey him, saying boldly that he was a vile imposter.
But it was done. The man had gained the confidence of Captain
Lachaumareys, who ignorant of navigation himself, was doubtless glad
to get someone to undertake his duty. But it must be told, that this
blind inept confidence was the sole cause of the loss of the Medusa
frigate, as well as all the crimes consequent upon it.
Towards three in the afternoon, those officers who went on shore in
the morning, returned on board loaded with vegetables, fruits and
flowers. They laughed heartily at the manoeuvres that had been going
on during their absence, which doubtless did not please the captain,
who flattered himself he had already found in his pilot Richefort, a
good and able seaman; such were his words.
At four in the afternoon we took a southerly direction. M. Richefort,
then beaming with exultation for having, as he said, saved the Medusa
from certain shipwreck, continued to give his pernicious counsels to
the captain, persuading him he had been often employed to explore the
shores of Africa, and that he was perfectly well acquainted with the
Arguin Bank. The journals of the 29th and 30th afford nothing very
remarkable.
The hot winds from the desert of Sahara began to be felt, which told
us we approached the tropic; indeed, the sun at noon seemed suspended
perpendicularly above our heads, a phenomenon which few among us had
ever seen.
On the 1st of July, we recognised Cape Bojador, and then saw the
shores of Sahara. Towards ten in the morning, they set about the
frivolous ceremony which the sailors have invented for the purpose of
exacting something from those passengers who have never crossed the
line. During the ceremony, the frigate doubled Cape Barbas hastening
to its destruction. Captain Lachaumareys very good humoredly presided
at this species of baptism, while his dear Richefort promenaded the
forecastle, and looked with indifference upon a shore bristling with
dangers. However that may be, all passed on well; nay, it may even be
said that the farce was well played off. But the route which we
pursued soon made us forget the short lived happiness we had
experienced. Every one began to observe the sudden change which had
taken place in the color of the sea, as we ran upon the bank in
shallow water. A general murmur arose among the passengers and
officers of the navy;--they were far from partaking in the blind
confidence of the captain.
On the second of July, at five in the morning, the captain was
persuaded that a large cloud, which was discovered in the direction of
Cape Blanco, was that Cape itself. After this pretended discovery,
they ought to have steered to the west, for about fifty leagues, to
have gained sea room to double with certainty the Arguin Bank;
moreover, they ought to have conformed to the instructions the
Minister of Marine had given to the ships which set out for Senegal.
The other part of the expedition, from having followed these
instructions arrived in safety at their destination. During the
preceding night, the Echo, which had hitherto accompanied the Medusa,
made several signals, but being replied to with contempt, abandoned
us. Towards ten in the morning, the danger which threatened us was
again represented to the captain, and he was strongly urged, if he
wished to avoid the Arguin Bank, to take a westerly course; but the
advice was again neglected, and he despised the predictions. One of
the officers of the frigate, from having wished to expose the
intriguing Richefort, was put under arrest. My father, who had already
twice made the voyage to Senegal, and who with various persons was
persuaded they were going right upon the bank, also made his
observations to the unfortunate pilot.--His advice was no better
received than those of Messrs. Reynaud, Espiau, Maudet, &c. Richefort,
in the sweetest tone, replied, 'My dear, we know our business; attend
to yours, and be quiet. I have already twice passed the Arguin Bank; I
have sailed upon the Red Sea, and you see I am not drowned.' What
reply could be made to such a preposterous speech? My father, seeing
it was impossible to get our route changed, resolved to trust to
Providence to free us from our danger, and descended to our cabin,
where he sought to dissipate his fears in the oblivion of sleep.
At noon on the 2d of July, soundings were taken. M. Maudet, ensign of
the watch, was convinced we were upon the edge of the Arguin Bank. The
captain said to him, as well as to every one, that there was no cause
of alarm. In the meanwhile, the wind blowing with great violence,
impelled us nearer and nearer to the danger which menaced us.--A
species of stupor overpowered all our spirits, and every one preserved
a mournful silence, as if they were persuaded we would soon touch the
bank. The color of the water entirely changed, a circumstance even
remarked by the ladies. About three in the afternoon, being in 19 30
north latitude, and 19 45 west longitude, an universal cry was heard
upon deck. All declared they saw sand rolling among the ripple of the
sea. The captain in an instant ordered to sound.--The line gave
eighteen fathoms; but on a second sounding it only gave six. He at
last saw his error, and hesitated no longer on changing the route, but
it was too late. A strong concussion told us the frigate had struck.
Terror and consternation were instantly depicted on every face. The
crew stood motionless; the passengers in utter despair. In the midst
of this general panic, cries of vengeance were heard against the
principal author of our misfortunes, wishing to throw him overboard;
but some generous persons interposed, and endeavored to calm their
spirits, by diverting their attention to the means of our safety. The
confusion was already so great, that McPoinsignon, commandant of a
troop, struck my sister Caroline a severe blow, doubtless thinking it
was one of his soldiers. At this crisis my father was buried in
profound sleep, but he quickly awoke, the cries and the tumult upon
deck having informed him of our misfortunes. He poured out a thousand
reproaches on those whose ignorance and boasting had been so
disastrous to us. However, they set about the means of averting our
danger. The officers, with an altered voice, issued their orders
expecting every moment to see the ship go in pieces. They strove to
lighten her, but the sea was very rough and the current strong. Much
time was lost in doing nothing; they only pursued half measures and
all of them unfortunately failed.
When it was discovered that the danger of the Medusa was not so great
as was at first supposed, various persons proposed to transport the
troops to the island of Arguin, which was conjectured to be not far
from the place where we lay aground. Others advised to take us all
successively to the coast of the desert of Sahara, by the means of our
boats, and with provisions sufficient to form a caravan, to reach the
island of Saint Louis, at Senegal. The events which afterwards ensued
proved this plan to have been the best, and which would have been
crowned with success; unfortunately it was not adopted. M. Schmaltz,
the governor, suggested the making of a raft of sufficient size to
carry two hundred men, with provisions; which latter plan was seconded
by the two officers of the frigate, and put in execution.
The fatal raft was then begun to be constructed, which would, they
said, carry provisions for every one. Masts, planks, boards and
cordage were thrown overboard. Two officers were charged with the
framing of these together.--Large barrels were emptied and placed at
the angles of the machine, and the workmen were taught to say, that
the passengers would be in greater security there, and more at their
ease, than in the boats. However, it was forgotten to erect rails,
every one supposed, and with reason, that those who had given the plan
of the raft, had had no design of embarking upon it themselves.
When it was completed, the two chief officers of the frigate publicly
promised, that all the boats would tow it to the shore of the Desert;
and, when there, stores of provisions and fire-arms would be given us
to form a caravan to take us all to Senegal. Why was not this plan
executed?--Why were these promises, sworn before the French flag, made
in vain? But it is necessary to draw a veil over the past. I will only
add, that if these promises had been fulfilled, every one would have
been saved, and that, in spite of the detestable egotism of certain
personages, humanity would not now have had to deplore the scenes of
horror consequent on the wreck of the Medusa.
On the 3d of July, the efforts were renewed to disengage the frigate,
but without success. We then prepared to quit her. The sea became very
rough, and the wind blew with great violence. Nothing now was heard
but the plaintive and confused cries of a multitude, consisting of
more than four hundred persons, who, seeing death before their eyes,
deplored their hard fate in bitter lamentations.
On the 4th, there was a glimpse of hope. At the hour the tide flowed,
the frigate, being considerably lightened by all that had been thrown
overboard, was found nearly afloat; and it is very certain, if on that
day they had thrown the artillery into the water, the Medusa would
have been saved; but M. Lachaumareys said, he would not thus sacrifice
the king's cannon, as if the frigate did not belong to the king
also.--However, the sea ebbed, and the ship sinking into the sand
deeper than ever, made them relinquish that on which depended our last
ray of hope.
On the approach of night, the fury of the winds redoubled, and the sea
became very rough. The frigate then received some tremendous
concussions, and the water rushed into the hold in the most terrific
manner, but the pumps would not work. We had now no alternative but to
abandon her for the frail boats, which any single wave might
overwhelm.--Frightful gulfs environed us; mountains of water raised
their liquid summits in the distance. How were we to escape so many
dangers? Whither could we go? What hospitable land would receive us on
its shores? My thoughts then reverted to our beloved country. Then
starting suddenly from my reverie, I exclaimed: 'O terrible condition!
that black and boundless sea resembles the eternal night which will
engulf us! All those who surround me seem yet tranquil, but that fatal
calm will soon be succeeded by the most frightful torments. Fools,
what had we to find in Senegal, to make us trust to the most
perfidious of elements! Did France not afford every necessary for our
happiness? Happy! yes, thrice happy, they who never set foot on a
foreign soil! Great God! succor all these unfortunate beings; save our
unhappy family!'
My father perceived my distress, but how could he console me? What
words could calm my fears, and place me above the apprehensions of
those dangers to which we were exposed? How, in a word, could I assume
a serene appearance, when friends, parents and all that was most dear
to me were, in all human probability, on the very verge of
destruction?--Alas! my fears were but too well founded. For I soon
perceived that, although we were the only ladies, besides the Misses
Schmaltz, who formed a part of the Governor's suit, they had the
barbarity of intending our family to embark upon the raft, where were
only soldiers sailors and planters of Cape Verd, and some generous
officers who had not the honor (if it could be accounted one) of being
considered among the ignorant confidants of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys. My father, indignant at a proceeding so indecorous,
swore we would not embark upon the raft, and that, if we were not
judged worthy of a place in one of the six boats, he would himself,
his wife and children, remain on board the wreck of the frigate. The
tone in which he spoke these words, was that of a man resolute to
avenge any insult that might be offered to him. The governor of
Senegal, doubtless fearing the world would one day reproach him for
his inhumanity, decided we should have a place in one of the boats.
This having in some measure quieted our fears concerning our
unfortunate situation, I was desirous of taking some repose, but the
uproar among the crew was so great I could not obtain it.
Towards midnight, a passenger came to inquire of my father if we were
disposed to depart; he replied, we had been forbid to go yet. However,
we were soon convinced that a great part of the crew and various
passengers were secretly preparing to set off in the boats. A conduct
so perfidious could not fail to alarm us, especially as we perceived
among those so eager to embark unknown to us, several who had
promised, but a little while before, not to go without us.
M. Schmaltz, to prevent that which was going on upon deck, instantly
rose to endeavor to quiet their minds; but the soldiers had already
assumed a threatening attitude, and holding cheap the words of their
commander, swore they would fire upon whosoever attempted to depart in
a clandestine manner. The firmness of these brave men produced the
desired effect, and all was restored to order. The governor returned
to his cabin; and those who were desirous of departing furtively were
confused and covered with shame. The governor, however, was ill at
ease; and as he had heard very distinctly certain energetic words
which had been addressed to him, he judged it proper to assemble a
council.--All the officers and passengers being collected,
M. Schmaltz, there solemnly swore before them not to abandon the raft,
and a second time promised that all the boats would tow it to the
shore of the Desert, where they would all be formed into a caravan. I
confess this conduct of the governor greatly satisfied every member of
our family; for we never dreamed he would deceive us, nor act in a
manner contrary to what he had promised.
About three in the morning, some hours after the meeting of the
council, a terrible noise was heard in the powder room; it was the
helm which was broken. All who were sleeping were roused by it. On
going on deck every one was more and more convinced that the frigate
was lost beyond all recovery. Alas! the wreck was for our family but
the commencement of a horrible series of misfortunes. The two chief
officers then decided with one accord, that all should embark at six
in the morning, and abandon the ship to the mercy of the waves. After
the decision, followed a scene the most whimsical, and at the same
time the most melancholy that can be well conceived. To have a more
distinct idea of it, let the reader transport himself in imagination
to the midst of the liquid plains of the ocean: then let him picture
to himself a multitude of all classes, of every age, tossed about at
the mercy of the waves upon a dismasted vessel, foundered, and half
submerged, let him not forget these are thinking beings with the
certain prospect before them of having reached the goal of their
existence.
Separated from the rest of the world by a boundless sea, and having no
place of refuge but the wreck of a grounded vessel, the multitude
addressed at first their vows to heaven, and forgot, for a moment, all
earthly concerns. Then suddenly starting from their lethargy, they
began to look after their wealth, the merchandise they had in small
ventures, utterly regardless of the elements which threatened them.
The miser, thinking of the gold contained in his coffers, hastening to
put it in a place of safety, either by sewing it into the lining of
his clothes, or by cutting out for it a place in the waistband of his
trowsers. The smuggler was tearing his hair at not being able to save
a chest of contraband which he had secretly got on board, and with
which he had hoped to have gained two or three hundred per cent.
Another, selfish to excess, was throwing overboard all his hidden
money, and amusing himself by burning all his effects. A generous
officer was opening his portmanteau, offering caps, stockings, and
shirts, to any who would take them. These had scarcely gathered
together their various effects, when they learned that they could not
take anything with them; those were searching the cabin and
store-rooms to carry away everything that was valuable. Ship-boys were
discovering the delicate wines and fine liquors, which a wise
foresight had placed in reserve. Soldiers and sailors were penetrating
even into the spirit-room, broaching casks, staving others and
drinking till they fell exhausted. Soon the tumult of the inebriated
made us forget the roaring of the sea which threatened to engulf us.
At last the uproar was at its height; the soldiers no longer listened
to the voice of the captain. Some knit their brows and muttered oaths;
but nothing could be done with those whom wine had rendered furious.
Next, piercing cries mixed with doleful groans were heard--this was
the signal of departure.
At six o'clock on the morning of the 5th, a great part of the military
were embarked upon the raft, which was already covered with a large
sheet of foam. The soldiers were expressly prohibited from taking
their arms. A young officer of infantry, whose brain seemed to be
powerfully affected, put his horse beside the barricadoes of the
frigate, and then, armed with two pistols, threatened to fire upon any
one who refused to go upon the raft. Forty men had scarcely descended
when it sunk to the depth of about two feet. To facilitate the
embarking of a greater number, they were obliged to throw over several
barrels of provisions which had been placed upon it the day before. In
this manner did this furious officer get about one hundred and fifty
heaped upon that floating tomb; but he did not think of adding one
more to the number by descending himself, as he ought to have done,
but went peaceably away, and placed himself in one of the best boats.
There should have been sixty sailors upon the raft, and there were but
about ten. A list had been made out on the 4th, assigning each his
proper place: but this wise precaution being disregarded, every one
pursued the plan he deemed the best for his own preservation. The
precipitation with which they forced one hundred and fifty unfortunate
beings upon the raft was such, that they forgot to give them one
morsel of biscuit. However, they threw towards them twenty-five pounds
in a sack, while they were not far from the frigate; but it fell into
the sea, and was with difficulty recovered.
During this disaster, the governor of Senegal, who was busied in the
care of his own dear self, effeminately descended in an arm-chair into
the barge, where were already various large chests, all kinds of
provisions, his dearest friends, his daughters and his wife.
Afterwards the captain's boat received twenty-seven persons, among
whom were twenty-five sailors, good rowers. The shallop, commanded by
M. Espiau, ensign of the ship, took forty-five passengers, and put
off. The boat, called the Senegal, took twenty-five; the pinnace
thirty-three; and the yawl, the smallest of all the boats, took only
ten.
Almost all the officers, the passengers, the mariners and
supernumeraries, were already embarked--all, but our weeping family,
who still remained upon the boards of the frigate, till some
charitable souls would kindly receive us into a boat. Surprised at
this abandonment, I instantly felt myself roused, and, calling with
all my might to the officers of the boats, besought them to take our
unhappy family along with them. Soon after, the barge, in which were
the governor of Senegal and all his family, approached the Medusa, as
if still to take some passengers, for there were but few in it. I made
a motion to descend, hoping that the Misses Schmaltz, who had, till
that day, taken a great interest in our family, would allow us a place
in their boat; but I was mistaken: those ladies, who had embarked in a
mysterious incognito, had already forgotten us; and M. Lachaumareys,
who was still on the frigate, positively told me they would not embark
along with us. Nevertheless I ought to tell, what we learned
afterwards, that the officer who commanded the pinnace had received
orders to take us in, but, as he was already a great way from the
frigate, we were certain he had abandoned us. My father however hailed
him, but he persisted on his way to gain the open sea. A short while
afterwards we perceived a small boat among the waves, which seemed
desirous to approach the Medusa; it was the yawl. When it was
sufficiently near, my father implored the sailors who were in it to
take us on board, and to carry us to the pinnace, where our family
ought to be placed. They refused. He then seized a firelock, which lay
by chance upon deck, and swore he would kill every one of them if they
refused to take us, adding that it was the property of the king, and
that he would have advantage from it as well as another. The sailors
murmured, but durst not resist, and received all our family, which
consisted of nine persons, viz. four children, our step-mother, my
cousin, my sister Caroline, my father and myself. A small box filled
with valuable papers, which we wished to save, some clothes, two
bottles of ratafia, which we had endeavored to preserve amidst our
misfortunes, were seized and thrown overboard by the sailors of the
yawl, who told us we would find in the pinnace everything we could
wish for our voyage. We had then only the clothes which covered us,
never thinking of dressing ourselves in two suits; but the loss which
affected us most was that of several MSS, at which my father had been
laboring for a long while. Our trunks, our linen and various chests of
merchandize of great value, in a word, everything we possessed, was
left in the Medusa. When we boarded the pinnace, the officer who
commanded it began excusing himself for having set off without
forewarning us, as he had been ordered, and said a thousand things in
his justification. But without believing the half of his fine
protestations, we felt very happy in having overtaken him; for it is
most certain they had no intention of encumbering themselves with our
unfortunate family. I say encumber, for it is evident that four
children, one of whom was yet at the breast, were very indifferent
beings to people who were actuated by a selfishness without all
parallel. When we were seated in the long boat, my father dismissed
the sailors with the yawl, telling them he would ever gratefully
remember their services. They speedily departed, but little satisfied
with the good action they had done. My father hearing their murmurs
and the abuse they poured out against us, said, loud enough for all in
the boat to hear, 'We are not surprised sailors are destitute of
shame, when their officers blush at being compelled to do a good
action.' The commandant of the boat feigned not to understand the
reproaches conveyed in these words, and, to divert our minds from
brooding over our wrongs, endeavored to counterfeit the man of
gallantry.
All the boats were already far from the Medusa, when they were brought
to, to form a chain in order to tow the raft.--The barge, in which was
the governor of Senegal, took the first tow, then all the other boats
in succession joined themselves to that. M. Lachaumareys embarked,
although there yet remained upon the Medusa more than sixty
persons.--Then the brave and generous M. Espiau, commander of the
shallop, quitted the line of boats, and returned to the frigate, with
the intention of saving all the wretches who had been abandoned. They
all sprung into the shallop; but as it was very much overloaded,
seventeen unfortunates preferred remaining on board, rather than
expose themselves as well as their companions to certain death. But
alas! the greater part afterwards fell victims to their fears or their
devotion.--Fifty-two days after they were abandoned, no more than
three of them were alive, and those looked more like skeletons than
men. They told that their miserable companions had gone afloat upon
planks and hen-coops, after having waited in vain forty-two days, for
the succor which had been promised them, and that all had perished.
The shallop, carrying with difficulty all those she had saved from the
Medusa, slowly rejoined the line of boats which towed the raft,
M. Espiau earnestly besought the officers of the other boats to take
some of them along with them; but they refused, alleging to the
generous officer that he ought to keep them in his own boat, as he had
gone for them himself. M. Espiau, finding it impossible to keep them
all without exposing them to the utmost peril, steered right for a
boat which I will not name. Immediately a sailor sprung from the
shallop into the sea, and endeavored to reach it by swimming; and when
he was about to enter it, an officer who possessed great influence
pushed him back, and, drawing his sabre, threatened to cut off his
hands, if he again made the attempt. The poor wretch regained the
shallop, which was very near the pinnace, which we were in, my father
supplicated M. Laperere, the officer of the boat, to receive him on
board, and had his arms already out to catch him, when M. Laperere
instantly let go the rope which attached us to the other boats, and
tugged off with all his force. At the same instant every boat imitated
our execrable example; and wishing to shun the approach of the
shallop, which sought for assistance, stood off from the raft,
abandoning, in the midst of the ocean, and to the fury of the waves,
the miserable mortals whom they had sworn to land on the shores of the
Desert.
Scarcely had these cowards broken their oath, when we saw the French
flag flying upon the raft. The confidence of those unfortunate persons
was so great, that when they saw the first boat which had the tow
removing from them, they all cried out the rope is broken! the rope is
broken! but when no attention was paid to their observation, they
instantly perceived the treachery of the wretches who had left them so
basely.--Then the cries of Vive le Roi arose from the raft, as if the
poor fellows were calling to their father for assistance; or, as if
they had been persuaded that, at that rallying word, the officers of
the boats would return, and not abandon their countrymen. The officers
repeated the cry of Vive le Roi, without a doubt, to insult them; but,
more particularly, M. Lachaumareys who, assuming a martial attitude,
waved his hat in the air. Alas! what availed these false professions?
Frenchmen, menaced with the greatest peril, were demanding assistance
with the cries of Vive le Roi; yet none were found sufficiently
generous nor sufficiently French, to go to aid them. After a silence
of some minutes, horrible cries were heard; the air resounded with the
groans, the lamentations, the imprecations of these wretched beings,
and the echo of the sea frequently repeated, alas! how cruel you are
to abandon us!!! The raft already appeared to be buried under the
waves, and its unfortunate passengers immersed. The fatal machine was
drifted by currents far behind the wreck of the frigate; without
cable, anchor, mast, sail or oars; in a word, without the smallest
means of enabling them to save themselves. Each wave that struck it,
made them stumble in heaps on one another.--Their feet getting
entangled among the cordage, and between the planks, bereaved them of
the faculty of moving. Maddened by these misfortunes, suspended, and
adrift upon a merciless ocean, they were soon tortured between the
pieces of wood which formed the scaffold on which they floated.--The
bones of their feet and their legs were bruised and broken, every time
the fury of the waves agitated the raft; their flesh covered with
contusions and hideous wounds, dissolved, as it were, in the briny
waves, while the roaring flood around them was colored with their
blood.
As the raft, when it was abandoned, was nearly two leagues from the
frigate, it was impossible these unfortunate persons could return to
it; they were soon after far out to sea. These victims still appeared
above their floating tomb; and, stretching out their supplicating
hands towards the boats which fled from them, seemed yet to invoke,
for the last time, the names of the wretches who had deceived them. O
horrid day! a day of shame and reproach! Alas! that the hearts of
those who were so well acquainted with misfortune, should have been so
inaccessible to pity.
After witnessing that most inhuman scene, and seeing they were
insensible to the cries and lamentations of so many unhappy beings, I
felt my heart bursting with sorrow. It seemed to me that the waves
would overwhelm all these wretches, and I could not suppress my tears.
My father, exasperated to excess, and bursting with rage at seeing so
much cowardice and inhumanity among the officers of the boats, began
to regret he had not accepted the place which had been assigned for us
upon the fatal raft. 'At least,' said he, 'we would have died with the
brave, or would have returned to the wreck of the Medusa; and not have
had the disgrace of saving ourselves with cowards.' Although this
produced no effect upon the officers, it proved very fatal to us
afterwards; for, on our arrival at Senegal, it was reported to the
Governor, and very probably was the principal cause of all those evils
and vexations which we endured in that colony.
Let us now turn our attention to the several situations of all those
who were endeavoring to save themselves in the different boats, as
well as to those left upon the wreck of the Medusa.
We have already seen, that the frigate was half sunk when it was
deserted, presenting nothing but a hulk and wreck.--Nevertheless,
seventeen still remained upon it, and had food, which, although
damaged, enabled them to support themselves for a considerable time;
while the raft was abandoned to float at the mercy of the waves, upon
the vast surface of the ocean. One hundred and fifty wretches were
embarked upon it, sunk to the depth of at least three feet on its fore
part, and on its poop immersed even to the middle. What victuals they
had were soon consumed, or spoiled by the salt water; and perhaps
some, as the waves hurried them along, became food for the monsters of
the deep. Two only of all the boats which left the Medusa, and these
with very few people in them, were provisioned with every necessary;
these struck off with security and despatch. But the condition of
those who were in the shallop was but little better than those upon
the raft; their great number, their scarcity of provisions, their
great distance from the shore, gave them the most melancholy
anticipations of the future. Their worthy commander, M. Espiau, had no
other hope but of reaching the shore as soon as possible. The other
boats were less filled with people, but they were scarcely better
provisioned; and as by a species of fatality, the pinnace, in which
were our family, was destitute of everything. Our provisions consisted
of a barrel of biscuit, and a tierce of water; and, to add to our
misfortune, the biscuit being soaked in the sea, it was almost
impossible to swallow one morsel of it. Each passenger in our boat was
obliged to sustain his wretched existence with a glass of water, which
he could get only once a day. To tell how this happened, how this
boat was so poorly supplied, while there was abundance left upon the
Medusa, is far beyond my power. But it is at least certain, that the
greater part of the officers commanding the boats, the shallop, the
pinnace, the Senegal boat, and the yawl, were persuaded, when they
quitted the frigate, that they would not abandon the raft, but that
all the expedition would sail together to the coast of Sahara; that
when there, the boats would be again sent to the Medusa to take
provisions, arms, and those who were left there; but it appears the
chiefs had decided otherwise.
After abandoning the raft, although scattered, all the boats formed a
little fleet, and followed the same route. All who were sincere hoped
to arrive the same day at the coast of the Desert, and that every one
would get on shore; but MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys gave orders to
take the route for Senegal. This sudden change in the resolutions of
the chiefs was like a thunderbolt to the officers commanding the
boats. Having nothing on board but what was barely necessary to enable
us to allay the cravings of hunger for one day, we were all sensibly
affected. The other boats, which, like ourselves, hoped to have got on
shore at the nearest point, were a little better provisioned than we
were; they had at least a little wine, which supplied the place of
other necessaries. We then demanded some from them, explaining our
situation, but none would assist us, not even the captain, who,
drinking to a kept mistress, supported by two sailors, swore he had
not one drop on board. We were next desirous of addressing the boat of
the Governor of Senegal, where we were persuaded were plenty of
provisions of every kind, such as oranges, biscuit, cakes, comfits,
plums and even the finest liquors; but my father opposed it, so well
was he assured we would not obtain anything.
We will now turn to the condition of those on the raft, when the boats
left them to themselves.
If all the boats had continued dragging the raft forward, favored as
we were by the breeze from the sea, we would have been able to have
conducted them to the shore in less than two days. But an
inconceivable fatality caused the generous plan to be abandoned which
had been formed.
When the raft had lost sight of the boats, a spirit of sedition began
to manifest itself in furious cries. They then began to regard one
another with ferocious looks, and to thirst for one another's flesh.
Some one had already whispered of having recourse to that monstrous
extremity, and of commencing with the fattest and youngest. A
proposition so atrocious filled the brave Captain Dupont and his
worthy Lieutenant M. L'Heureux with horror; and that courage which had
so often supported them in the field of glory, now forsook them.
Among the first who fell under the hatchets of the assassins, was a
young woman who had been seen devouring the body of her husband. When
her turn was come, she sought a little wine as a last favor, then
rose, and without uttering a word threw herself into the sea. Captain
Dupont, being prescribed for having refused to partake of the
sacrilegious viands with which the monsters were feeding on, was saved
by a miracle from the hands of the butchers. Scarcely had they seized
him to lead him to the slaughter, when a large pole, which served in
place of a mast, fell upon his body; and believing that his legs were
broken, they contented themselves by throwing him into the sea. The
unfortunate captain plunged and disappeared, and they thought him
already in another world.
Providence, however, revived the strength of the unfortunate warrior.
He emerged under the beams of the raft, and clinging with all his
might, holding his head above water, he remained between two enormous
pieces of wood, while the rest of his body was hid in the sea. After
more than two hours of suffering, Captain Dupont spoke in a low voice
to his lieutenant, who by chance was seated near the place of his
concealment. The brave L'Heureux, with eyes glistening with tears,
believed he heard the voice, and saw the shade of his captain; and
trembling, was about to quit the place of horror; O wonderful! he saw
a head which seemed to draw its last sigh, he recognized it, he
embraced it, alas! it was his dear friend! Dupont was instantly drawn
from the water, and L'Heureux obtained for his unfortunate comrade
again a place upon the raft. Those who had been most inveterate
against him, touched at what Providence had done for him in so
miraculous a manner, decided with one accord to allow him entire
liberty upon the raft.
The sixty unfortunates who had escaped from the first massacre, were
soon reduced to fifty, then to forty, and at last to twenty-eight. The
least murmur, or the smallest complaint, at the moment of distributing
the provisions, was a crime punished with immediate death. In
consequence of such a regulation, it may easily be presumed the raft
was soon lightened. In the meanwhile the wine diminished sensibly, and
the half-rations very much displeased a certain chief of the
conspiracy. On purpose to avoid being reduced to that extremity, the
executive power decided it was much wiser to drown thirteen people,
and to get full rations, than that twenty-eight should have half
rations.
Merciful Heaven! what shame! After the last catastrophe, the chiefs of
the conspiracy, fearing, doubtless of being assassinated in their
turn, threw all the arms into the sea, and swore an inviolable
friendship with the heroes which the hatchet had spared. On the 17th
of July, in the morning, Captain Parnajon, commandant of the Argus
brig, still found fifteen men on the raft. They were immediately taken
on board, and conducted to Senegal. Four of the fifteen are yet alive,
viz. Captain Dupont, residing in the neighborhood of Maintenon,
Lieutenant L'Heureux, since Captain at Senegal, Savigny, at Rochefort,
and Correard, I know not where.
On the 5th of July, at ten in the morning, one hour after abandoning
the raft, and three after quitting the Medusa, M. Laperere, the
officer of our boat, made the first distribution of provisions. Each
passenger had a small glass of water and nearly the fourth of a
biscuit. Each drank his allowance of water at one draught, but it was
found impossible to swallow one morsel of our biscuit, it being so
impregnated with sea-water. It happened, however, that some was found
not quite so saturated. Of these we eat a small portion, and put back
the remainder for a future day. Our voyage would have been
sufficiently agreeable, if the beams of the sun had not been so
fierce. On the evening we perceived the shores of the Desert; but as
the two chiefs (MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys) wished to go right for
Senegal, notwithstanding we were still one hundred leagues from it, we
were not allowed to land. Several officers remonstrated, both on
account of our want of provisions and the crowded condition of the
boats, for undertaking so dangerous a voyage. Others urged with equal
force, that it would be dishonoring the French name if we were to
neglect the unfortunate people on the raft, and insisted we should be
set on shore, and whilst we waited there, three boats should return to
look after the raft, and three to the wreck of the frigate, to take up
the seventeen who were left there, as well as a sufficient quantity of
provisions to enable us to go to Senegal by the way of Barbary. But
MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys whose boats were sufficiently well
provisioned, scouted the advice or their subalterns, and ordered them
to cast anchor till the following morning. They were obliged to obey
these orders, and to relinquish their designs. During the night, a
certain passenger who was doubtless no doctor, and who believed in
ghosts and witches, was suddenly frightened by the appearance of
flames, which he thought he saw in the waters of the sea, a little way
from where our boat was anchored. My father, and some others, who were
aware that the sea is sometimes phosphorated, confirmed the poor
credulous man in his belief, and added several circumstances which
fairly turned his brain. They persuaded him the Arabic sorcerers had
fired the sea to prevent us from travelling along their deserts.
On the morning of the 6th of July, at five o'clock, all the boats were
under way on the route to Senegal. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and
Lachaumareys took the lead along the coast, and all the expedition
followed. About eight, several sailors in our boat, with threats,
demanded to be set on shore; but M. Laperere, not acceding to their
request, the whole were about to revolt and seize the command; but the
firmness of this officer quelled the mutineers. In a spring which he
made to seize a firelock which a sailor persisted in keeping in his
possession, he almost tumbled into the sea. My father fortunately was
near him, and held him by his clothes, but he had instantly to quit
him, for fear of losing his hat, which the waves were floating away. A
short while after this slight accident, the shallop, which we had lost
sight of since the morning, appeared desirous of rejoining us. We
plied all hands to avoid her, for we were afraid of one another, and
thought that that boat, encumbered with so many people, wished to
board us to oblige us to take some of its passengers, as M. Espiau
would not suffer them to be abandoned like those upon the raft. That
officer hailed us at a distance, offering to take our family on board,
adding, he was anxious to take about sixty people to the Desert. The
officer of our boat, thinking that this was a pretence, replied, we
preferred suffering where we were. It even appeared to us that
M. Espiau had hid some of his people under the benches of the shallop.
But alas; in the end we deeply deplored being so suspicious, and of
having so outraged the devotion of the most generous officer of the
Medusa.
Our boat began to leak considerably, but we prevented it as well as we
could, by stuffing the largest holes with oakum, which an old sailor
had had the precaution to take before quitting the frigate. At noon
the heat became so strong--so intolerable, that several of us believed
we had reached our last moments. The hot winds of the Desert even
reached us; and the fine sand with which they were loaded, had
completely obscured the clearness of the atmosphere. The sun presented
a reddish disk; the whole surface of the ocean became nebulous, and
the air which we breathed, depositing a fine sand, an impalpable
powder, penetrated to our lungs, already parched with a burning
thirst. In this state of torment we remained till four in the
afternoon, when a breeze from the northwest brought us some relief.
Notwithstanding the privations we felt, and especially the burning
thirst which had become intolerable, the cool air which we now began
to breathe, made us in part forget our sufferings. The heavens began
again to resume the usual serenity of those latitudes, and we hoped to
have passed a good night. A second distribution of provisions was
made; each received a small glass of water, and the eighth part of a
biscuit. Notwithstanding our meagre fare, every one seemed content, in
the persuasion we would reach Senegal by the morrow. But how vain were
all our hopes, and what sufferings had we yet to endure!
At half past seven, the sky was covered with stormy clouds. The
serenity we had admired a little while before, entirely disappeared,
and gave place to the most gloomy obscurity. The surface of the ocean
presented all the signs of a coming tempest. The horizon on the side
of the Desert had the appearance of a long hideous chain of mountains
piled on one another, the summits of which seemed to vomit fire and
smoke. Bluish clouds, streaked with a dark copper color, detached
themselves from that shapeless heap, and came and joined with those
which floated over our heads. In less than half an hour the ocean
seemed confounded with the terrible sky which canopied us. The stars
were hid. Suddenly a frightful noise was heard from the west, and all
the waves of the sea rushed to founder our frail bark. A fearful
silence succeeded to the general consternation. Every tongue was mute;
and none durst communicate to his neighbor the horror with which his
mind was impressed. At intervals the cries of the children rent our
hearts. At that instant a weeping and agonized mother bared her breast
to her dying child, but it yielded nothing to appease the thirst of
the little innocent who pressed it in vain. O night of horrors! what
pen is capable to paint thy terrible picture! How describe the
agonizing fears of a father and mother, at the sight of their children
tossed about and expiring of hunger in a small boat, which the winds
and waves threatened to engulf at every instant! Having full before
our eyes the prospect of inevitable death, we gave ourselves up to our
unfortunate condition, and addressed our prayers to Heaven. The winds
growled with the utmost fury; the tempestuous waves arose exasperated.
In their terrific encounter a mountain of water was precipitated into
our boat, carrying away one of the sails, and the greater part of the
effects which the sailors had saved from the Medusa. Our bark was
nearly sunk; the females and the children lay rolling in its bottom,
drinking the waters of bitterness; and their cries, mixed with the
roaring of the waves and the furious north wind, increased the horrors
of the scene. My unfortunate father then experienced the most
excruciating agony of mind. The idea of the loss which the shipwreck
had occasioned to him, and the danger which still menaced all he held
dearest in the world, plunged him into a swoon. The tenderness of his
wife and children recovered him; but alas! his recovery was to still
more bitterly deplore the wretched situation of his family. He clasped
us to his bosom; he bathed us with his tears, and seemed as if he was
regarding us with his last looks of love.
Every soul in the boat was seized with the same perturbation, but it
manifested itself in different ways. One part of the sailors remained
motionless, in a bewildered state; the other cheered and encouraged
one another; the children, locked in the arms of their parents, wept
incessantly. Some demanded drink, vomiting the salt water which choked
them; others, in short, embraced as for the last time, intertwining
their arms, and vowing to die together.
In the meanwhile the sea became rougher and rougher. The whole surface
of the ocean seemed a vast plain furrowed with huge blackish waves
fringed with white foam. The thunder growled around us, and the
lightning discovered to our eyes all that our imagination could
conceive most horrible. Our boat, beset on all sides by the winds, and
at every instant tossed on the summit of mountains of water, was very
nearly sunk in spite of our every effort in baling it, when we
discovered a large hole in its poop. It was instantly stuffed with
everything we could find:--old clothes, sleeves of shirts, shreds of
coats, shawls, useless bonnets, everything was employed, and secured
us as far as it was possible. During the space of six hours, we rowed
suspended alternately between hope and fear, between life and death.
At last towards the middle of the night, Heaven, which had seen our
resignation, commanded the floods to be still. Instantly the sea
became less rough, the veil which covered the sky became less
obscure, the stars again shone out, and the tempest seemed to
withdraw. A general exclamation of joy and thankfulness issued at one
instant from every mouth. The winds calmed, and each of us sought a
little sleep, while our good and generous pilot steered our boat on a
still very stormy sea.
The day at last, the day so desired, entirely restored the calm; but
it brought no other consolation. During the night, the currents, the
waves, and the winds had taken us so far out to sea, that, on the
dawning of the 7th of July, we saw nothing but sky and water, without
knowing whither to direct our course; for our compass had been broken
during the tempest. In this hopeless condition, we continued to steer
sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, until the sun arose,
and at last showed us the east.
On the morning of the 7th of July, we again saw the shores of the
Desert, notwithstanding we were a great distance from it. The sailors
renewed their murmurings, wishing to get on shore, with the hope of
being able to get some wholesome plants, and some more palatable water
than that of the sea; but as we were afraid of the Moors, their
request was opposed. However, M. Laperere proposed to take them as
near as he could to the first breakers on the coast; and when there,
those who wished to go on shore should throw themselves into the sea,
and swim to land. Eleven accepted the proposal; but when we had
reached the first waves, none had the courage to brave the mountains
of water which rolled between them and the beach. Our sailors then
betook themselves to their benches and oars, and promised to be more
quiet for the future. A short while after, a third distribution was
made since our departure from the Medusa; and nothing more remained
than four pints of water, and one half dozen biscuits. What steps were
we to take in this cruel situation? We were desirous of going on
shore, but we had such dangers to encounter. However we soon came to a
decision, when we saw a caravan of Moors on the coast. We then stood a
little out to sea. According to the calculation of our commanding
officer, we would arrive at Senegal on the morrow. Deceived by that
false account, we preferred suffering one day more, rather than be
taken by the Moors of the Desert, or perish among the breakers. We had
now no more than a small half glass of water, and the seventh of a
biscuit.
Exposed as we were to the heat of the sun, which darted its rays
perpendicularly on our heads, that ration, though small would have
been a great relief to us; but the distribution was delayed to the
morrow. We were then obliged to drink the bitter sea water, ill as it
was calculated to quench our thirst. Must I tell it! thirst had so
withered the lungs of our sailors, that they drank water salter than
that of the sea. Our numbers diminished daily, and nothing but the
hope of arriving at the colony on the following day sustained our
frail existence. My young brothers and sisters wept incessantly for
water. The little Laura, aged six years lay dying at the feet of her
mother. Her mournful cries so moved the soul of my unfortunate father,
that he was on the eve of opening a vein to quench the thirst which
consumed his child; but a wise person opposed his design, observing
that all the blood in his body would not prolong the life of his
infant one moment.
The freshness of the night wind procured us some respite. We anchored
pretty near to the shore, and though dying of famine, each got a
tranquil sleep. On the morning of the 8th of July, at break of day, we
took the route for Senegal. A short while after the wind fell, and we
had a dead calm.--We endeavored to row, but our strength was
exhausted. A fourth and last distribution was made, and in the
twinkling of an eye, our last resources were consumed. We were
forty-two people who had to feed upon six biscuits and about four
pints of water, with no hope of a farther supply. Then came the moment
for deciding whether we were to perish among the breakers, which
defended the approach to the shores of the Desert, or to die of famine
in continuing our route.--The majority preferred the last species of
misery. We continued our progress along the shore, painfully pulling
our oars. Upon the beach were distinguished several downs of white
sand and some small trees. We were thus creeping along the coast,
observing a mournful silence, when a sailor suddenly exclaimed, behold
the Moors! We did, in fact, see various individuals upon the rising
ground, walking at a quick pace, and whom we took to be the Arabs of
the Desert. As we were very near the shore, we stood farther out to
sea, fearing that these pretended Moors, or Arabs, would throw
themselves into the sea, swim out, and take us. Some hours after, we
observed several people upon an eminence, who seemed to make signals
for us.
We examined them attentively, and soon recognized them to be our
companions in misfortune. We replied to them by attaching a white
handkerchief to the top of our mast. Then we resolved to land at the
risk of perishing among the breakers, which were very strong towards
the shore, although the sea was calm. On approaching the beach, we
went towards the right, where the waves seemed less agitated, and
endeavored to reach it, with the hope of being able more easily to
land. Scarcely had we directed our course to that point, when we
perceived a great number of people standing near to a little wood
surrounding the sand-hills. We recognized them to be the passengers of
that boat, which, like ourselves, were deprived of provisions.
Meanwhile we approached the shore, and already the foaming surge
filled us with terror. Each wave that came from the open sea, each
billow that swept beneath our boat, made us bound into the air; so we
were sometimes thrown from the poop to the prow, and from the prow to
the poop. Then, if our pilot had missed the sea, we would have been
sunk; the waves would have thrown us aground, and we would have been
buried among the breakers. The helm of the boat was again given to the
old pilot, who had already so happily steered us through the dangers
of the storm. He instantly threw into the sea the mast, the sails, and
everything that could impede our proceedings. When we came to the
first landing point, several of our shipwrecked companions, who had
reached the shore, ran and hid themselves behind the hills, not to see
us perish; others made signs not to approach at that place, some
covered their eyes with their hands; others, at last despising the
danger, precipitated themselves into the waves to receive us in their
arms. We then saw a spectacle that made us shudder. We had already
doubled two ranges of breakers; but those which we had still to cross
raised their foaming waves to a prodigious height, then sunk with a
hollow and monstrous sound, sweeping along a long line of the
coast.--Our boat sometimes greatly elevated, and sometimes engulfed
between the waves, seemed, at the moment, of utter ruin. Bruised,
battered and tossed about on all hands, it turned of itself, and
refused to obey the kind hand which directed it.--At that instant a
huge wave rushed from the open sea, and dashed against the poop; the
boat plunged, disappeared, and we were all among the waves. Our
sailors, whose strength had returned at the presence of danger,
redoubled their efforts, uttering mournful sounds. Our bark groaned,
the oars were broken; it was thought aground, but it was stranded; it
was upon its side. The last sea rushed upon us with the impetuosity
of a torrent. We were all up to the neck in water; the bitter
sea-froth choked us. The grapnel was thrown out.--The sailors threw
themselves into the sea; they took the children in their arms;
returned, and took us upon their shoulders; and I found myself seated
upon the sand on the shore, by the side of my step-mother, my brothers
and sisters, almost dead. Every one was upon the beach except my
father and some sailors; but that good man arrived at last, to mingle
his tears with those of his family and friends.
Instantly our hearts joined in addressing our prayers and praises to
God. I raised my hands to heaven, and remained sometime immoveable
upon the beach. Every one also hastened to testify his gratitude to
our old pilot, who next to God, justly merited the title of our
preserver. M. Dumege, a naval surgeon, gave him an elegant gold watch,
the only thing he had saved from the Medusa.
Let the reader now recollect all the perils to which we had been
exposed in escaping from the wreck of the frigate to the shores of the
Desert--all that we had suffered during our four days' voyage--and he
will perhaps have a just notion of the various sensations we felt on
getting on shore on that strange and savage land. Doubtless the joy we
experienced at having escaped, as by a miracle, the fury of the
floods, was very great; but how much was it lessened by the feelings
of our horrible situation! Without water, provisions, and the majority
of us nearly naked, was it to be wondered at that we should be seized
with terror on thinking of the obstacles which we had to surmount, the
fatigues, the privations, the pains and sufferings we had to endure,
with the dangers we had to encounter in the immense and frightful
Desert we had to traverse before we could arrive at our destination?
Almighty Providence! it was in Thee alone I put my trust.
After we had a little recovered from the fainting and fatigue of our
getting on shore, our fellow-sufferers told us they had landed in the
forenoon, and cleared the breakers by the strength of their oars and
sails; but they had not all been so lucky as we were. One unfortunate
person, too desirous of getting quickly on shore, had his legs broken
under the shallop, and was taken and laid on the beach, and left to
the care of Providence. M. Espiau, commander of the shallop,
reproached us for having doubted him when he wished to board us to
take our family along with him. It was most true he had landed
sixty-three people that day. A short while after our refusal, he took
the passengers of the yawl, who would infallibly have perished in the
stormy nights of the 6th and 7th. The boat named the Senegal,
commanded by M. Maudet, had made the shore at the same time with
M. Espiau. The boats of MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys were the only
ones which continued the route for Senegal, while nine-tenths of the
Frenchmen intrusted to these gentlemen were butchering each other on
the raft, or dying of hunger on the burning sands of Sahara.
About seven in the morning, a caravan was formed to penetrate into the
interior, for the purpose of finding some fresh water. We did
accordingly find some at a little distance from the sea, by digging
among the sand. Every one instantly flocked round the little wells,
which furnished enough to quench our thirst. This brackish water was
found to be delicious, although it had a sulphurous taste: its color
was that of whey. As all our clothes were wet and in tatters, and as
we had nothing to change them, some generous officers offered theirs.
My step-mother, my cousin, and my sister, were dressed in them; for
myself, I preferred keeping my own. We remained nearly an hour beside
our beneficent fountain, then took the route for Senegal; that is, a
southerly direction, for we did not know exactly where that country
lay. It was agreed that the females and children should walk before
the caravan, that they might not be left behind. The sailors
voluntarily carried the youngest on their shoulders, and every one
took the route along the coast. Notwithstanding it was nearly seven
o'clock, the sand was quite burning, and we suffered severely, walking
without shoes, having lost them while landing. As soon as we arrived
on the shore, we went to walk on the wet sand, to cool us a little.
Thus we traveled during all the night, without encountering anything
but shells, which wounded our feet.
On the morning of the 9th, we saw an antelope on the top of a little
hill, which instantly disappeared, before we had time to shoot it. The
Desert seemed to our view one immense plain of sand, on which was seen
not one blade of verdure. However, we still found water by digging in
the sand. In the forenoon, two officers of marine complained that our
family incommoded the progress of the caravan. It is true, the females
and the children could not walk so quickly as the men. We walked as
fast as it was possible for us, nevertheless, we often fell behind,
which obliged them to halt till we came up. These officers, joined
with other individuals, considered among themselves whether they would
wait for us, or to abandon us in the Desert. I will be bold to say,
however, that but few were of the latter opinion. My father being
informed of what was plotting against us, stepped up to the chiefs of
the conspiracy, and reproached them in the bitterest terms for their
selfishness and brutality. The dispute waxed hot. Those who were
desirous of leaving us drew their swords, and my father put his hand
upon a poignard, with which he had provided himself on quitting the
frigate. At this scene, we threw ourselves in between them, conjuring
him rather to remain in the Desert with his family, than seek the
assistance of those who were, perhaps, less human than the Moors
themselves. Several people took our part, particularly M. Begnere,
captain of infantry, who quieted the dispute by saying to his
soldiers, 'My friends, you are Frenchmen, and I have the honor of
being your commander; let us never abandon an unfortunate family in
the Desert, so long as we are able to be of use to them.' This brief,
but energetic speech, caused those to blush who wished to leave us.
All then joined with the old captain saying they would not leave us on
condition we would walk quicker. M. Begnere and his soldiers replied,
they did not wish to impose conditions on those to whom they were
desirous of doing a favor; and the unfortunate family of Picard were
again on the road with the whole caravan.
About noon hunger was felt so powerfully among us, that it was agreed
upon to go to the small hills of sand which were near the coast, to
see if any herbs could be found fit for eating; but we only got
poisonous plants, among which were various kinds of euphorbium.
Convolvaluses of a bright green carpeted the downs; but on tasting
their leaves we found them as bitter as gall. The caravan rested in
this place, while several officers went farther into the interior.
They came back in about an hour, loaded with wild purslain, which they
distributed to each of us. Every one instantly devoured his bunch of
herbage, without leaving the smallest branch: but as our hunger was
far from being satisfied with this small allowance, the soldiers and
sailors betook themselves to look for more. They soon brought back a
sufficient quantity, which was equally distributed, and devoured upon
the spot, so delicious had hunger made that food to us. For myself, I
declare I never eat anything with so much appetite in all my life.
Water was also found in this place, but it was of an abominable taste.
After this truly frugal repast, we continued our route. The heat was
insupportable in the last degree. The sands on which we trod were
burning, nevertheless several of us walked on these scorching coals
without shoes; and the females had nothing but their hair for a cap.
When we reached the sea-shore, we all ran and lay down among the
waves. After remaining there some time, we took our route along the
wet beach. On our journey we met with several large crabs, which were
of considerable service to us. Every now and then we endeavored to
slake our thirst by sucking their crooked claws. About nine at night
we halted between two pretty high sand hills. After a short talk
concerning our misfortunes, all seemed desirous of passing the night
in this place, notwithstanding we heard on every side the roaring of
leopards. We deliberated on the means of securing ourselves, but sleep
soon put an end to our fears. Scarcely had we slumbered a few hours
when a terrible roaring of wild beasts awoke us, and made us stand on
our defence. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and in spite of my
fears and the horrible aspect of the place, nature never appeared so
sublime to me before. Instantly something was announced that resembled
a lion. This information was listened to with the greatest emotion.
Every one being desirous of verifying the truth, fixed upon something
he thought to be the object: one believed he saw the long teeth of the
king of the forest; another was convinced his mouth was already open
to devour us: several, armed with muskets, aimed at the animal, and
advancing a few steps, discovered the pretended lion to be nothing
more than a shrub fluctuating in the breeze. However, the howlings of
ferocious beasts had so frightened us, being yet heard at intervals
that we again sought the sea-shore, on purpose to continue our route
towards the south.
Some of our companions were desirous of making observations in the
interior, and they did not go in vain. They instantly returned, and
told us they had seen two Arab tents upon a slight rising ground. We
instantly directed our steps thither. We had to pass great downs of
sand very slippery, and arrived in a large plain streaked here and
there with verdure; but the turf was so hard and piercing, we could
scarcely walk over it without wounding our feet. Our presence in these
frightful solitudes put to flight three or four Moorish shepherds, who
herded a small flock of sheep and goats in an oasis. At last we
arrived at the tents after which we were searching, and found in them
three Mooresses and two little children, who did not seem in the least
frightened by our visit. A negro servant, belonging to an officer of
marine, interpreted between us; and the good women, who, when they had
heard of our misfortunes, offered us millet and water for payment. We
bought a little of that grain at the rate of thirty pence a handful;
the water was got for three francs a glass; it was very good, and none
grudged the money it cost. As a glass of water, with a handful of
millet, was but a poor dinner for famished people, my father bought
two kids, which they would not give him under twenty piastres. We
immediately killed them, and our Mooresses boiled them in a large
kettle. While our repast was preparing, my father, who could not
afford the whole of the expense, got others to contribute to it, but
an old officer of marine, who was to have been captain of the port of
Senegal, was the only person who refused, notwithstanding he had about
him nearly three thousand francs which he boasted of in the end.
Several soldiers and sailors had seen him count it in round pieces of
gold, on coming ashore on the Desert, and reproached him for his
sordid avarice; but he seemed insensible to their reproaches, nor eat
the less of his portion of the kid with his companions in misfortune.
When about to resume our journey, we saw several Moors approaching us
armed with lances. Our people instantly seized their arms, and put
themselves in readiness to defend us in case of an attack. Two
officers, followed by several soldiers and sailors, with our
interpreter, advanced to discover their intentions. They instantly
returned with the Moors, who said, that far from wishing to do us
harm, they had come to offer us their assistance, and to conduct us to
Senegal. This offer being accepted of with gratitude by all of us, the
Moors, of whom we had been so afraid, became our protectors and
friends, verifying the old proverb, there are good people everywhere!
As the camp of the Moors was at some considerable distance from where
we were, we set off altogether to reach it before night. After having
walked about two leagues through the burning sands, we found ourselves
again upon the shore. Towards night, our conductors made us strike
again into the interior, saying we were near their camp which is
called in their language Berkelet. But the short distance of the Moors
was found very long by the females and the children, on account of the
downs of sand which we had to ascend and descend every instant, also
of prickly shrubs over which we were frequently obliged to walk. Those
who were barefooted, felt most severely at this time the want of their
shoes. I myself lost among the bushes various shreds of my dress, and
my feet and legs were all streaming with blood. At length, after two
long hours of walking and suffering, we arrived at the camp of that
tribe to which belonged our Arab conductors. We had scarcely got into
the camp, when the dogs, the children, and the Moorish women, began to
annoy us. Some of them threw sand in our eyes, others amused
themselves by snatching at our hair, on pretence of wishing to examine
it. This pinched us, that spit upon us; the dogs bit our legs, whilst
the old harpies cut the buttons from the officers coats, or endeavored
to take away the lace. Our conductors, however, had pity on us, and
chased away the dogs and the curious crowd, who had already made us
suffer as much as the thorns which had torn our feet. The chiefs of
the camp, our guides, and some good women, at last set about getting
us some supper. Water in abundance was given us without payment, and
they sold us fish dried in the sun, and some bowlsful of sour milk, at
a reasonable price.
We found a Moor in the camp who had previously known my father at
Senegal, and who spoke a little French. As soon as he recognised him,
he cried, 'Tiens toi Picard! ni a pas conneitre moi Amet?' Hark ye,
Picard, know you not Amet? We were all struck with astonishment at
these French words coming from the mouth of a Moor. My father
recollected having employed long ago a young goldsmith at Senegal, and
discovering the Moor Amet to be the same person, shook him by the
hand. After that good fellow had been made acquainted with our
shipwreck, and to what extremities our unfortunate family had been
reduced, he could not refrain from tears; and this perhaps was the
first time a Mussulman had ever wept over the misfortunes of a
Christian. Amet was not satisfied with deploring our hard fate; he was
desirous of proving that he was generous and humane, and instantly
distributed among us a large quantity of milk and water free of any
charge. He also raised for our family a large tent of the skins of
camels, cattle and sheep, because his religion would not allow him to
lodge with Christians under the same roof. The place appeared very
dark, and the obscurity made us uneasy. Amet and our conductors
lighted a large fire to quiet us; and at last, bidding us good night,
and retiring to his tent, said, 'Sleep in peace; the God of the
Christians is also the God of the Mussulman.'
We had resolved to quit this truly hospitable place early in the
morning; but during the night, some people who had probably too much
money, imagined the Moors had taken us to their camp to plunder us.
They communicated their fears to others, and pretending that the
Moors, who walked up and down among their flocks, and cried from time
to time to keep away the ferocious beasts, had already given the
signal for pursuing and murdering us. Instantly a general panic seized
all our people, and they wished to set off forthwith. My father,
although he well knew the perfidy of the inhabitants of the Desert,
endeavored to assure them we had nothing to fear, because the Arabs
were too frightened for the people of Senegal, who would not fail to
avenge us if we were insulted; but nothing could quiet their
apprehensions, and we had to take the route during the middle of the
night. The Moors being soon acquainted with our fears, made us all
kinds of protestations; and seeing we persisted in quitting the camp,
offered us asses to carry us as far as the Senegal. These beasts of
burden were hired at the rate of 12 francs a day, for each head, and
we took our departure under the guidance of those Moors who had before
conducted us to the camp. Amet's wife being unwell, he could not
accompany us, but recommended us strongly to our guides. My father was
able to hire only two asses for the whole of our family; and as it was
numerous, my sister Caroline, my cousin, and myself, were obliged to
crawl along, whilst my unfortunate father followed in the suite of the
caravan, which in truth went much quicker than we did.
A short distance from the camp, the brave and compassionate Capt.
Begnere, seeing we still walked, obliged us to accept of the ass he
had hired for himself, saying he would not ride when young ladies
exhausted with fatigue, followed on foot. The King afterwards
honorably recompensed this worthy officer, who ceased not to regard
our unfortunate family with a care and attention I will never forget.
During the remainder of the night, we travelled in a manner
sufficiently agreeable, mounting alternately the ass of Captain
Begnere.
At five in the morning of the 11th of July we regained the sea-shore.
Our asses, fatigued with the long journey among the sand, ran
instantly and lay down among the breakers, in spite of our utmost
exertions to prevent them. This caused several of us to take a bath we
wished not; I was myself held under my ass in the water, and had great
difficulty in saving one of my young brothers who was floating away.
But, in the end as this incident had no unfortunate issue, we laughed,
and continued our route, some on foot and some on the capricious
asses. Towards ten o'clock, perceiving a ship out at sea, we attached
a white handkerchief to the muzzle of a gun, waiving it in the air,
and soon had the satisfaction of seeing it was noticed. The ship
having approached sufficiently near the coast, the Moors who were
with us threw themselves into the sea and swam to it. It must be said
we had very wrongfully supposed that these people had had a design
against us, for their devotion could not appear greater than when five
of them darted through the waves to endeavor to communicate between us
and the ship, notwithstanding it was still a good quarter of a league
distant from where we stood on the beach. In about half an hour we saw
these good Moors returning, making float before them three small
barrels. Arrived on shore, one of them gave a letter to M. Espiau from
M. Parnajon. This gentleman was the captain of the Argus brig, sent to
seek after the raft, and to give us provisions. This letter announced
a small barrel of biscuit, a tierce of wine, a half tierce of brandy,
and a Dutch cheese. O fortunate event! We were very desirous of
testifying our gratitude to the generous commander of the brig, but he
instantly set out and left us. We staved the barrels which held our
small stock of provisions, and made a distribution.--Each of us had a
biscuit, about a glass of wine, a half glass of brandy, and a small
morsel of cheese. Each drank his allowance of wine at one gulp; the
brandy was not even despised by the ladies. I however preferred
quantity to quality, and exchanged my ration of brandy for that of
wine. To describe our joy, while taking this repast, is impossible.
Exposed to the fierce rays of a vertical sun; exhausted by a long
train of suffering; deprived for a long while, the use of any kind of
spirituous liquors, when our portions of water, wine and brandy
mingled in our stomachs we became like insane people.
Life, which had lately been a great burden, now became precious to us.
Foreheads, lowering and sulky, began to unwrinkle; enemies became most
brotherly; the avaricious endeavored to forget their selfishness and
cupidity; the children smiled for the first time since our shipwreck;
in a word, every one seemed to be born again from a condition,
melancholy and dejected. I even believe the sailors sung the praises
of their mistresses.
This journey was the most fortunate for us. Some short while after our
delicious meal, we saw several Moors approaching, who brought milk and
butter, so that we had refreshments in abundance. It is true we paid a
little dear for them; the glass of milk cost not less than three
francs. After reposing about three hours, our caravan proceeded on its
route.
About six in the evening, my father finding himself extremely
fatigued, wished to rest himself. We allowed the caravan to move on,
while my step-mother and myself remained near him, and the rest of the
family followed with their asses. We all three soon fell asleep. When
we awoke we were astonished at not seeing our companions. The sun was
sinking in the west. We saw several Moors approaching us, mounted on
camels; and my father reproached himself for having slept so long.
Their appearance gave us great uneasiness, and we wished much to
escape from them, but my step-mother and myself fell quite exhausted.
The Moors with long beards having come quite close to us, one of them
alighted and addressed us in the following words. "Be comforted,
ladies; under the costume of an Arab, you see an Englishman who is
desirous of serving you. Having heard at Senegal that Frenchmen were
thrown ashore upon these deserts, I thought my presence might be of
some service to them, as I was acquainted with several of the princes
of this arid country." These noble words from the mouth of a man we
had at first taken to be a Moor, instantly quieted our fears.
Recovering from our fright, we rose and expressed to the philanthropic
Englishman the gratitude we felt. Mr. Carnet, the name of the generous
Briton, told us that our caravan which he had met, waited for us at
about the distance of two leagues. He then gave us some biscuit, which
we eat; and we then set off together to join our companions. Mr.
Carnet wished us to mount his camels, but my step-mother and myself,
being unable to persuade ourselves we could sit securely on their
hairy haunches, continued to walk on the moist sand, whilst my father,
Mr. Carnet and the Moors who accompanied him, proceeded on the camels.
We soon reached a little river, called in the country Marigot des
Maringoins. We wished to drink of it, but found it as salt as the sea.
Mr. Carnet desired us to have patience, and we should find some at the
place where our caravan waited. We forded that river knee deep.
At last, having walked about an hour, we rejoined our companions, who
had found several wells of fresh water. It was resolved to pass the
night in this place, which seemed less arid than any we saw near us.
The soldiers, being requested to go and seek wood to light a fire, for
the purpose of frightening the ferocious beasts which were heard
roaring around us, refused; but Mr. Carnet assured us, that the Moors
who were with him knew well how to keep all such intruders from our
camp. In truth, during the whole of the night these good Arabs
promenaded round our caravan, uttering cries at intervals like those
we had heard in the camp of the generous Amet.
We passed a very good night, and at four in the morning continued our
route along the shore, Mr. Carnet left us to endeavor to procure some
provisions. Till then our asses had been quite docile; but, annoyed
with their riders so long upon their backs, they refused to go
forward. A fit took possession of them, and all at the same instant
threw their riders on the ground, or among the bushes. The Moors,
however, who accompanied us, assisted to catch our capricious animals,
who had nearly scampered off, and replaced us on the hard backs of
these headstrong creatures. At noon the heat became so violent, that
even the Moors themselves bore it with difficulty. We then determined
on finding some shade behind the high mounds of sand which appeared in
the interior; but how were we to reach them! The sands could not be
hotter. We had been obliged to leave our asses on the shore, for they
would neither advance nor recede. The greater part of us had neither
shoes nor hats; notwithstanding we were obliged to go forward almost a
long league to find a little shade. The heat reflected by the sands of
the Desert could be compared to nothing but the mouth of an oven at
the moment of drawing out the bread; nevertheless, we endured it; but
not without cursing those who had been the occasion of all our
misfortunes. Arrived behind the heights for which we searched, we
stretched ourselves under the Mimos-gommier, (the acacia of the
Desert), several broke branches of the asclepia (swallow-wort), and
made themselves a shade. But whether from want of air, or the heat of
the ground on which we were seated, we were nearly all suffocated. I
thought my last hour was come. Already my eyes saw nothing but a dark
cloud, when a person of the name of Berner, who was to have been a
smith at Senegal, gave me a boot containing some muddy water, which he
had had the precaution to keep. I seized the elastic vase, and
hastened to swallow the liquid in large draughts.
One of my companions equally tormented with thirst, envious of the
pleasure I seemed to feel, and which I felt effectually, drew the foot
from the boot, and seized it in his turn, but it availed him nothing.
The water which remained was so disgusting, that he could not drink
it, and spilled it on the ground. Captain Begnere, who was present,
judging, by the water which fell, how loathsome must that have been
which I had drank, offered me some crumbs of biscuit, which he had
kept most carefully in his pocket. I chewed that mixture of bread,
dust and tobacco, but I could not swallow it, and gave it all
masticated to one of my young brothers, who had fallen from
inanimation.
We were about to quit this furnace, when we saw our generous
Englishman approaching, who brought us provisions.--At this sight I
felt my strength revive, and ceased to desire death, which I had
before called on to release me from my sufferings. Several Moors
accompanied Mr. Carnet, and every one was loaded. On their arrival we
had water, with rice and dried fish in abundance. Every one drank his
allowance of water, but had not ability to eat, although the rice was
excellent. We were all anxious to return to the sea, that we might
bathe ourselves, and the caravan put itself on the road to the
breakers of Sahara. After an hour's march of great suffering, we
regained the shore, as well as our asses, who were lying in the water.
We rushed among the waves, and after a bath of half an hour, we
reposed ourselves upon the beach. My cousin and I went to stretch
ourselves upon a small rising ground, where we were shaded with some
old clothes which we had with us. My cousin was clad in an officer's
uniform, the lace of which strongly attracted the eyes of Mr. Carnet's
Moors. Scarcely had we lain down, when one of them, thinking we were
asleep, came to endeavor to steal it; but seeing we were awake,
contented himself by looking at us very steadily.
About three in the morning, a northwest wind having sprang up and a
little refreshed us, our caravan continued its route; our generous
Englishman again taking the task of procuring us provisions. At four
o'clock the sky became overcast, and we heard thunder in the distance.
We all expected a great tempest, which happily did not take
place.--Near seven we reached the spot where we were to wait for Mr.
Carnet, who came to us with a bullock he had purchased. Then quitting
the shore, we went into the interior to seek a place to cook our
supper. We fixed our camp beside a small wood of acacias, near to
which were several wells or cisterns of fresh water. Our ox was
instantly killed, skinned, cut to pieces and distributed. A huge fire
was kindled, and each was occupied in dressing his meal. At this time
I caught a smart fever; notwithstanding I could not help laughing at
seeing every one seated round a large fire holding his piece of beef
on the point of his bayonet, a sabre or some sharp-pointed stick. The
flickering of the flames on the different faces, sun-burned and
covered with long beards, rendered more visible by the darkness of the
night, joined to the noise of the waves and the roaring of ferocious
beasts, which we heard in the distance, presented a spectacle at once
laughable and imposing.
While these thoughts were passing across my mind, sleep overpowered my
senses. Being awakened in the middle of the night, I found my portion
of beef in the shoes which an old sailor had lent me for walking among
the thorns; although it was a little burned and smelt strongly of the
dish in which it was contained, I eat a good part of it, and gave the
rest to my friend the sailor. That seaman, seeing I was ill, offered
to exchange my meat for some which he had had the address to boil in a
small tin-box. I prayed him to give me a little water if he had any,
and he instantly went and fetched me some in his hat. My thirst was so
great that I drank it out of his nasty hat without any repugnance.
At nine o'clock we met upon the shore a large flock herded by young
Moors. These shepherds sold us milk, and one of them offered to lend
my father an ass for a knife which he had seen him take out of his
pocket. My father having accepted the proposal, the Moor left his
companion to accompany us as far as Senegal, from which we were yet
two good leagues.
Suddenly we left the shore. Our companions appearing quite transported
with joy, some of us ran forward, and having gained a slight rising
ground, discovered the Senegal at no great distance.
We hastened our march, and for the first time since our shipwreck, a
smiling picture presented itself to our view.--The trees always green,
with which that noble river is shaded, the humming birds, the red
birds, the paroquets, the promerops, &c. who flitted among their long
yielding branches, caused in us emotions difficult to express. We
could not satiate our eyes with gazing on the beauties of this place,
verdure being so enchanting to the sight, especially after having
travelled through the Desert. Before reaching the river we had to
descend a little hill covered with thorny bushes. My ass stumbling
threw me into the midst of one, and I tore myself in several places,
but was easily consoled when I at length found myself on the banks of
a river of fresh water. Every one having quenched his thirst, we
stretched ourselves under the shade of a small grove, while the
beneficent Mr. Carnet and two of our officers set forward to Senegal
to announce our arrival, and to get us boats. In the meanwhile some
took a little repose, and others were engaged in dressing the wounds
with which they were covered.
At two in the afternoon, we saw a small boat beating against the
current of the stream with oars. It soon reached the spot where we
were. Two Europeans landed, saluted our caravans, and inquired for my
father. One of them said he came on the part of MM. Artigue and
Laboure, inhabitants of Senegal, to offer assistance to our family;
the other added, that he had not waited for the boats which were
getting ready for us at the island of St. Louis, knowing too well what
would be our need. We were desirous of thanking them, but they
instantly ran off to the boat and brought us provisions, which my
father's old friends had sent him.--They placed before us a large
basket containing several loaves, cheese, a bottle of Madeira, a
bottle of filtered water and dresses for my father. Every one, who,
during our journey, had taken any interest in our unfortunate family,
and especially the brave Captain Begnere, had a share of our
provisions. We experienced a real satisfaction in partaking with them,
and giving them this small mark of our gratitude.
A young aspirant of marine, who had refused us a glass of water in the
Desert, pressed with hunger, begged of us some bread; he got it, also
a small glass of Madeira.
It was four o'clock before the boats of the government arrived, and we
all embarked. Biscuit and wine were found in each of them, and all
were refreshed.
That in which were our family was commanded by M. Artigue, captain of
the port, and one of those who had sent us provisions. My father and
he embraced as two old friends who had not seen one another for eight
years, and congratulated themselves that they had been permitted to
meet once more before they died. We had already made a league upon the
river when a young navy clerk (M. Mollien) was suddenly taken ill. We
put him ashore, and left him to the care of a negro to conduct him to
Senegal when he should recover.
It would be in vain for me to paint the various emotions of my mind at
that delicious moment. I am bold to say all the colony, if we accept
MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys, were at the port to receive us from our
boats. M. Artigue going on shore first to acquaint the English
governor of our arrival, met him coming to us on horseback, followed
by our generous conductor Mr. Carnet, and several superior
officers.--We went on shore carrying our brothers and sisters in our
arms. My father presented us to the English governor, who had
alighted; he appeared to be sensibly affected with our misfortunes,
the females and children chiefly excited his commiseration. And the
native inhabitants and Europeans tenderly shook the hands of the
unfortunate people; the negro slaves even seemed to deplore our
disastrous fate.
The governor placed the most sickly of our companions in a hospital;
various inhabitants of the colony received others into their houses;
M. Artigue obligingly took charge of our family. Arriving at his house
we there found his wife, two ladies and an English lady, who begged to
be allowed to assist us. Taking my sister Caroline and myself, she
conducted us to her house, and presented us to her husband, who
received us in the most affable manner; after which she led us to her
dressing-room, where we were combed, cleansed, and dressed by the
domestic negresses, and were most obligingly furnished with linen from
her own wardrobe, the whiteness of which was strongly contrasted with
our sable countenances. In the midst of my misfortunes my soul had
preserved all its strength; but this sudden change of situation
affected me so much, that I thought my intellectual faculties were
forsaking me. We were so confused by our agitation, that we scarcely
heard the questions which were put to us, having constantly before our
eyes the foaming waves and the immense tract of sand over which we had
passed.
* * * * *
The following is the substance, abridged from MM.
Correard and Savigny, of what took place on the raft
during thirteen days before the sufferers were taken up
by the Argus Brig.
After the boats had disappeared, the consternation became extreme. All
the horrors of thirst and famine passed before our imagination;
besides, we had to contend with a treacherous element, which already
covered the half of our bodies.--The deep stupor of the soldiers and
sailors instantly changed to despair. All saw their inevitable
destruction, and expressed by their moans the dark thoughts which
brooded in their minds. Our words were at first unavailing to quiet
their fears, which we participated with them, but which a greater
strength of mind enabled us to dissemble. At last an unmoved
countenance, and our proffered consolations, quieted them by degrees,
but could not entirely dissipate the terror with which they were
seized.
When tranquility was a little restored, we began to search about the
raft for the charts, the compass, and the anchor, which we presumed
had been placed upon it, after what we had been told at the time of
quitting the frigate.
These things of the first importance, had not been placed upon our
machine. Above all, the want of a compass the most alarmed us, and we
gave vent to our rage and vengeance. M. Correard then remembered he
had seen one in the hands of the principal workmen under his command;
he spoke to the man, who replied, 'Yes, yes, I have it with me.' This
information transported us with joy, and we believed that our safety
depended upon this futile resource; it was about the size of a
crown-piece, and very incorrect. Those who have not been in situations
in which their existence was exposed to extreme peril, can have but a
faint knowledge of the price one attaches then to the simplest
objects--with what avidity one seizes the slightest means capable of
mitigating the rigor of that fate against which they contend. The
compass was given to the commander of the raft, but an accident
deprived us of it forever; it fell and disappeared between the pieces
of wood which formed our machine. We had kept it but a few hours, and,
after its loss, had nothing to guide us but the rising and setting of
the sun.
We had all gone afloat without taking any food. Hunger beginning to be
imperiously felt, we mixed our paste of sea-biscuit with a little
wine, and distributed it thus prepared.--Such was our first meal, and
the best we had, during our stay upon the raft.
An order, according to our numbers, was established for the
distribution of our miserable provisions. The ration of wine was fixed
at three quarters a day. We will speak no more of the biscuit, it
having been entirely consumed at the first distribution. The day
passed away sufficiently tranquil. We talked of the means by which we
would save ourselves; we spoke of it as a certain circumstance, which
reanimated our courage; and we sustained that of the soldiers, by
cherishing in them the hope of being able, in a short time, to revenge
themselves on those who had abandoned us. This hope of vengeance, it
must be avowed, equally animated us all; and we poured out a thousand
imprecations against those who had left us a prey to so much misery
and danger.
The officer who commanded the raft being unable to move, M. Savigny
took upon himself the duty of erecting the mast. He caused them to cut
in two one of the poles of the frigate's masts, and fixed it with the
rope which had served to tow us, and of which we made stays and
shrouds. It was placed on the anterior third of the raft. We put up
for a sail the main-top-gallant, which trimmed very well, but was of
very little use, except when the wind served from behind; and to keep
the raft in this course, we were obliged to trim the sail as if the
breeze blew athwart us.
In the evening, our hearts and our prayers, by a feeling natural to
the unfortunate, were turned towards Heaven.--Surrounded by inevitable
dangers, we addressed that invisible Being who has established, and
who maintains the order of the universe. Our vows were fervent, and we
experienced from our prayers the cheering influence of hope. It is
necessary to have been in similar situations, before one can rightly
imagine what a charm is the sublime idea of a God protecting the
unfortunate to the heart of the sufferer.
One consoling thought still soothed our imaginations. We persuaded
ourselves that the little divisions had gone to the isle of Arguin,
and that after it had set a part of its people on shore, the rest
would return to our assistance; we endeavored to impress this idea on
our soldiers and sailors, which quieted them. The night came without
our hope being realized; the wind freshened, and the sea was
considerably swelled. What a horrible night! The thought of seeing the
boats on the morrow, a little consoled our men, the greater part of
whom, being unaccustomed to the sea, fell on one another at each
movement of the raft. M. Savigny, seconded by some people who still
preserved their presence of mind amidst the disorder, stretched cords
across the raft, by which the men held, and were better able to resist
the swell of the sea; some were even obliged to fasten themselves. In
the middle of the night the weather was very rough; huge waves burst
upon us, sometimes overturning us with great violence. The cries of
the men, mingled with the flood, whilst the terrible sea raised us at
every instant from the raft, and threatened to sweep us away. This
scene was rendered still more terrible, by the horrors inspired by the
darkness of the night. Suddenly we believed we saw fires in the
distance at intervals.
We had had the precaution to hang at the top of the mast, the
gunpowder and pistols which we had brought from the frigate. We made
signals by burning a large quantity of cartridges; we even fired some
pistols, but it seems the fire we saw, was nothing but an error of
vision, or, perhaps, nothing more than the sparkling of the waves.
We struggled with death during the whole of the night, holding firmly
by the ropes which were made very secure.--Tossed by the waves from
the back to the front, and from the front to the back, and sometimes
precipitated into the sea; floating between life and death, mourning
our misfortunes, certain of perishing; we disputed, nevertheless, the
remainder of our existence, with that cruel element which threatened
to engulf us. Such was our condition till daybreak. At every instant
were heard the lamentable cries of the soldiers and sailors; they
prepared for death, bidding farewell to one another, imploring the
protection of Heaven, and addressing fervent prayers to God. Every one
made vows to him, in spite of the certainty of never being able to
accomplish them. Frightful situation! How is it possible to have any
idea of it, which will not fall far short of the reality!
Towards seven in the morning the sea fell a little, the wind blew with
less fury; but what a scene presented itself to our view! Ten or
twelve unfortunates, having their inferior extremities fixed in the
openings between the pieces of the raft, had perished by being unable
to disengage themselves; several others were swept away by the
violence of the sea. At the hour of repast, we took the numbers anew;
we had lost twenty men. We will not affirm that this was the exact
number; for we perceived some soldiers who, to have more than their
share, took rations for two, and even three; we were so huddled
together that we found it absolutely impossible to prevent this abuse.
In the midst of these horrors a touching scene of filial piety drew
our tears. Two young men raised and recognized their father, who had
fallen, and was lying insensible among the feet of the people. They
believed him at first dead, and their despair was expressed in the
most affecting manner. It was perceived, however, that he still
breathed, and every assistance was rendered for his recovery in our
power. He slowly revived, and was restored to life, and to the
prayers of his sons, who supported him closely folded in their
arms.--Whilst our hearts were softened by this affecting episode in
our melancholy adventures, we had soon to witness the sad spectacle of
a dark contrast. Two ship-boys and a baker feared not to seek death,
and threw themselves into the sea, after having bid farewell to their
companions in misfortune. Already the minds of our people were
singularly altered; some believed that they saw land, others ships
which were coming to save us; all talked aloud of their fallacious
visions.
We lamented the loss of our unfortunate companions. At this moment we
were far from anticipating the still more terrible scene which took
place on the following night; far from that, we enjoyed a positive
satisfaction so well were we persuaded that the boats would return to
our assistance. The day was fine, and the most perfect tranquility
reigned all the while on our raft. The evening came and no boats
appeared. Despondency began again to seize our men, and then a spirit
of insubordination manifested itself in cries of rage. The voice of
the officers was entirely disregarded. Night fell rapidly in, the sky
was obscured by dark clouds; the wind which, during the whole day, had
blown rather violently, became furious and swelled the sea, which in
an instant became very rough.
The preceding night had been frightful, but this was more so.
Mountains of water covered us at every instant, and burst with fury
into the midst of us. Very fortunately we had the wind from behind,
and the strongest of the sea was a little broken by the rapidity with
which we were driven before it. We were impelled towards the land. The
men, from the violence of the sea, were hurried from the back to the
front; we were obliged to keep to the centre, the firmest part of the
raft, and those who could not get there almost all perished. Before
and behind the waves dashed impetuously, and swept away the men in
spite of all their resistance. At the centre the pressure was such,
that some unfortunates were suffocated by the weight of their
comrades, who fell upon them at every instant. The officers kept by
the foot of the little mast, and were obliged every moment to call to
those around them to go to the one or the other side to avoid the
waves; for the sea coming nearly athwart us, gave our raft nearly a
perpendicular position, to counteract which, they were forced to throw
themselves upon the side raised by the sea.
The soldiers and sailors, frightened by the presence of almost
inevitable danger, doubted not that they had reached their last hour.
Firmly believing they were lost, they resolved to soothe their last
moments by drinking till they lost their senses. We had no power to
oppose this disorder. They seized a cask which was in the centre of
the raft, made a little hole in the end of it, and, with small tin
cups, took each a pretty large quantity; but they were obliged to
cease, for the sea water rushed into the hole they had made. The fumes
of the wine failed not to disorder their brains, already weakened by
the presence of danger and want of food. Thus excited, these men
became deaf to the voice of reason. They wished to involve, in one
common ruin, all their companions in misfortune. They avowedly
expressed their intention of freeing themselves from their officers,
who they said, wished to oppose their design; and then to destroy the
raft, by cutting the ropes which united its different parts.
Immediately after they resolved to put their plans into execution. One
of them advanced upon the side of the raft with a boarding axe, and
began to cut the cords. This was the signal of revolt. We stepped
forward to prevent these insane mortals, and he who was armed with the
hatchet, with which he even threatened an officer, fell the first
victim; a stroke of a sabre terminated his existence.
This man was an Asiatic, and a soldier in a colonial regiment. Of a
colossal stature, short hair, a nose extremely large, an enormous
mouth and dark complexion, he made a most hideous appearance. At first
he had placed himself in the middle of the raft, and, at each blow of
his fist, knocked down every one who opposed him; he inspired the
greatest terror, and none durst approach him. Had there been six such,
our destruction would have been certain.
Some men anxious to prolong their existence, armed and united
themselves with those who wished to preserve the raft; among this
number were some subaltern officers and many passengers. The rebels
drew their sabres, and those who had none armed themselves with
knives. They advanced in a determined manner upon us; we stood on our
defence; the attack commenced. Animated by despair, one of them aimed
a stroke at an officer; the rebel instantly fell, pierced with wounds.
This firmness awed them for an instant, but diminished nothing of
their rage. They ceased to advance, and withdrew, presenting to us a
front bristling with sabres and bayonets, to the back part of the raft
to execute their plan.--One of them feigned to rest himself on the
small railings on the sides of the raft, and with a knife began
cutting the cords. Being told by a servant, one of us sprung upon him.
A soldier, wishing to defend him, struck at the officer with his
knife, which only pierced his coat; the officer wheeled round, seized
his adversary, and threw both him and his comrade into the sea.
There had been as yet but partial affairs; the combat became general.
Some one cried to lower the sail; a crowd of infuriated mortals threw
themselves in an instant upon the haulyards and the shrouds, and cut
them. The fall of the mast almost broke the thigh of a captain of
infantry, who fell insensible. He was seized by the soldiers, who
threw him into the sea. We saved him, and placed him on a barrel,
whence he was taken by the rebels, who wished to put out his eyes with
a penknife. Exasperated by so much brutality, we no longer restrained
ourselves, but pushed in upon them, and charged them with fury. Sword
in hand we traversed the line which the soldiers had formed, and many
paid with their lives the errors of their revolt. Various passengers,
during these cruel moments, evinced the greatest courage and coolness.
M. Correard fell into a sort of swoon; but hearing at every instant
the cries, To Arms! with us comrades; we are lost! joined with the
groans and imprecations of the wounded and dying, was soon roused from
his lethargy. All this horrible tumult speedily made him comprehend
how necessary it was to be upon his guard. Armed with his sabre, he
gathered together some of his workmen on the front of the raft, and
there charged them to hurt no one, unless they were attacked. He
almost always remained with them; and several times they had to defend
themselves against the rebels, who, swimming round to that point of
the raft, placed M. Correard and his little troop between two dangers,
and made their position very difficult to defend. At every instant he
was opposed to men armed with knives, sabres and bayonets. Many had
carabines which they wielded as clubs. Every effort was made to stop
them, by holding them off at the point of their swords; but, in spite
of the repugnance they experienced in fighting with their wretched
countrymen, they were compelled to use their arms without mercy. Many
of the mutineers attacked with fury, and they were obliged to repel
them in the same manner. Some of the laborers received severe wounds
in this action. Their commander could show a great number received in
the different engagements. At last their united efforts prevailed in
dispersing this mass who had attacked them with such fury.
During this combat, M. Correard was told by one of his workmen who
remained faithful, that one of their comrades, named Dominique, had
gone over to the rebels, and that they had seized and thrown him into
the sea. Immediately forgetting the fault and treason of this man, he
threw himself in at the place whence the voice of the wretch was heard
calling for assistance, seized him by the hair, and had the good
fortune to restore him on board. Dominique had got several sabre
wounds in a charge, one of which had laid open his head. In spite of
the darkness we found out the wound, which seemed very large.
One of the workmen gave his handkerchief to bind and stop the blood.
Our care recovered the wretch; but, when he had collected strength,
the ungrateful Dominique, forgetting at once his duty and the signal
service which we had rendered him, went and rejoined the rebels. So
much baseness and insanity did not go unrevenged; and soon after he
found, in a fresh assault, that death from which he was not worthy to
be saved, but which he might in all probability have avoided, if, true
to honor and gratitude, he had remained among us.
Just at the moment we finished dressing the wounds of Dominique,
another voice was heard. It was that of the unfortunate female who was
with us on the raft, and whom the infuriated beings had thrown into
the sea, as well as her husband, who had defended her with courage.
M. Correard in despair at seeing two unfortunates perish, whose
pitiful cries, especially the woman's pierced his heart, seized a
large rope which he found on the front of the raft, which he fastened
round his middle, and throwing himself a second time into the sea, was
again so fortunate as to save the woman, who invoked, with all her
might, the assistance of our Lady of Land. Her husband was rescued at
the same time by the head workman, Lavilette. We laid these
unfortunates upon the dead bodies, supporting their backs with a
barrel. In a short while they recovered their senses. The first thing
the woman did was to acquaint herself with the name of the person who
saved her, and to express to him her liveliest gratitude.--Finding,
doubtless, that her words but ill expressed her feelings, she
recollected she had in her pocket a little snuff, and instantly
offered it to him,--it was all she possessed. Touched with the gift,
but unable to use it, M. Correard gave it to a poor sailor, which
served him for three or four days. But it is impossible for us to
describe a still more affecting scene, the joy this unfortunate couple
testified, when they had sufficiently recovered their senses, at
finding that they were both saved.
The rebels being repulsed, as it has been stated above, left us a
little repose. The moon lighted with her melancholy rays this
disastrous raft, this narrow space, on which were found united so many
torturing anxieties, so many cruel misfortunes, a madness so
insensate, a courage so heroic, and the most generous, the most
amiable sentiments of nature and humanity.
The man and wife, who had been but a little before stabbed with swords
and bayonets, and thrown both together into a stormy sea, could
scarcely credit their senses when they found themselves in one
another's arms. The woman was a native of the Upper Alps, which place
she had left twenty-four years before, and during which time she had
followed the French armies in the campaigns in Italy, and other
places, as a sutler. 'Therefore preserve my life,' said she to
M. Correard, 'you see I am an useful woman. Ah! if you knew how often
I have ventured upon the field of battle, and braved death to carry
assistance to our gallant men. Whether they had money or not I always
let them have my goods. Sometimes a battle would deprive me of my poor
debtors; but after the victory, others would pay me double or triple
for what they had consumed before the engagement. Thus I came in for a
share of their victories.' Unfortunate woman! she little knew what a
horrible fate awaited her among us! They felt, they expressed so
vividly that happiness which they alas so shortly enjoyed, that would
have drawn tears from the most obdurate heart. But in that horrible
moment, when we scarcely breathed from the most furious attack,--when
we were obliged to be continually on our guard, not only against the
violence of the men, but a most boisterous sea, few among us had time
to attend to scenes of conjugal affection.
After this second check, the rage of the soldiers was suddenly
appeased, and gave place to the most abject cowardice. Several threw
themselves at our feet, and implored our pardon, which was instantly
granted. Thinking that order was re-established, we returned to our
station on the centre of the raft, only taking the precaution of
keeping our arms. We, however, had soon to prove the impossibility of
counting on the permanence of any honest sentiment in the hearts of
these beings.
It was nearly midnight; and after an hour of apparent tranquility, the
soldiers rose afresh. Their mind was entirely gone; they ran upon us
in despair with knives and sabres in their hands. As they yet had all
their physical strength, and besides were armed, we were obliged again
to stand on our defence. Their revolt became still more dangerous, as,
in their delirium, they were entirely deaf to the voice of reason.
They attacked us, we charged them in our turn, and immediately the
raft was strewed with their dead bodies. Those of our adversaries who
had no weapons endeavored to tear us with their sharp teeth. Many of
us were cruelly bitten.--M. Savigny was torn on the legs and the
shoulder; he also received a wound on the right arm which deprived him
of the use of his fourth and little finger for a long while. Many
others were wounded; and many cuts were found in our clothes from
knives and sabres.
One of our workmen was also seized by four of the rebels, who wished
to throw him into the sea. One of them had laid hold of his right leg,
and had bit most unmercifully the tendon above the heel; others were
striking him with great slashes of their sabres, and with the butt end
of their guns, when his cries made us hasten to his assistance. In
this affair, the brave Lavilette, ex-serjeant of the foot artillery of
the Old Guard, behaved with a courage worthy of the greatest praise.
He rushed upon the infuriated beings in the manner of M. Correard, and
soon snatched the workman from the danger which menaced him. Some
short while after, in a fresh attack of the rebels, sub-lieutenant
Lozach fell into their hands. In their delirium, they had taken him
for Lieutenant Danglas, of whom we have formerly spoken, and who had
abandoned the raft at the moment when we were quitting the frigate.
The troop, to a man, eagerly sought this officer, who had seen little
service, and whom they reproached for having used them ill during the
time they garrisoned the Isle of Rhe. We believed this officer lost,
but hearing his voice, we soon found it still possible to save him.
Immediately MM. Clairet, Savigny, L'Heureux, Lavilette, Coudin,
Correard, and some workmen, formed themselves into small platoons, and
rushed upon the insurgents with great impetuosity, overturning every
one in their way, and retook M. Lozach, and placed him on the centre
of the raft.
The preservation of this officer cost us infinite difficulty. Every
moment the soldiers demanded he should be delivered to them,
designating him always by the name of Danglas. We endeavored to make
them comprehend their mistake, and told them that they themselves had
seen the person for whom they sought return on board the frigate. They
were insensible to everything we said; everything before them was
Danglas; they saw him perpetually, and furiously and unceasingly
demanded his head. It was only by force of arms we succeeded in
repressing their rage, and quieting their dreadful cries of death.
Horrible night! thou shrouded with thy gloomy veil these frightful
combats, over which presided the cruel demon of despair.
We had also to tremble for the life of M. Coudin. Wounded and fatigued
by the attacks which he had sustained with us, and in which he had
shown a courage superior to everything, he was resting himself on a
barrel, holding in his arms a young sailor boy of twelve years of age,
to whom he had attached himself. The mutineers seized him with his
barrel, and threw him into the sea with the boy, whom he still held
fast. In spite of his burden, he had the presence of mind to lay hold
of the raft, and to save himself from this extreme peril.
We cannot yet comprehend how a handful of men should have been able to
resist such a number so monstrously insane. We are sure we were not
more than twenty to combat all these madmen. Let it not, however, be
imagined, that in the midst of all these dangers we had preserved our
reason entire. Fear, anxiety, and the most cruel privations, had
greatly changed our intellectual faculties. But being somewhat less
insane than the unfortunate soldiers, we energetically opposed their
determination of cutting the cords of the raft. Permit us now to make
some observations concerning the different sensations with which we
were affected. During the first day, M. Griffon entirely lost his
senses. He threw himself into the sea, but M. Savigny saved him with
his own hands. His words were vague and unconnected. A second time he
threw himself in, but, by a sort of instinct, kept hold of the cross
pieces of the raft, and was again saved.
The following is what M. Savigny experienced in the beginning of the
night. His eyes closed in spite of himself, and he felt a general
drowsiness. In this condition the most delightful visions flitted
across his imagination. He saw around him a country covered with the
most beautiful plantations, and found himself in the midst of objects
delightful to his senses. Nevertheless, he reasoned concerning his
condition, and felt that courage alone could withdraw him from this
species of non-existence. He demanded some wine from the
master-gunner, who got it for him, and he recovered a little from this
stupor. If the unfortunates who were assailed with these primary
symptoms had not strength to withstand them, their death was certain.
Some became furious; others threw themselves into the sea, bidding
farewell to their comrades with the utmost coolness. Some said--'Fear
nothing; I am going to get you assistance, and will return in a short
while.' In the midst of this general madness, some wretches were seen
rushing upon their companions, sword in hand, demanding a wing of a
chicken and some bread to appease the hunger which consumed them;
others asked for their hammocks to go, they said, between the decks of
the frigate to take a little repose. Many believed they were still on
the Medusa, surrounded by the same objects they there saw daily. Some
saw ships, and called to them for assistance, or a fine harbor, in the
distance of which was an elegant city. M. Correard thought he was
travelling through the beautiful fields of Italy. An officer said to
him--'I recollect we have been abandoned by the boats; but fear
nothing. I am going to write to the governor, and in a few hours we
shall be saved.' M. Correard replied in the same tone, and as if he
had been in his ordinary condition.--'Have you a pigeon to carry your
orders with such celerity?' The cries and the confusion soon roused us
from this languor; but when tranquility was somewhat restored, we
again fell into the same drowsy condition. On the morrow, we felt as
if we had awoke from a painful dream, and asked our companions, if,
during their sleep, they had not seen combats and heard cries of
despair. Some replied, that the same visions had continually tormented
them, and that they were exhausted with fatigue. Every one believed he
was deceived by the illusions of a horrible dream.
After these different combats, overcome with toil, with want of food
and sleep, we laid ourselves down and reposed till the morrow dawned,
and showed us the horror of the scene. A great number in their
delirium had thrown themselves into the sea. We found that sixty or
sixty-five had perished during the night. A fourth part at least, we
supposed, had drowned themselves in despair. We only lost two of our
own numbers, neither of whom were officers. The deepest dejection was
painted on every face; each, having recovered himself, could now feel
the horrors of his situation; and some of us, shedding tears of
despair, bitterly deplored the rigor of our fate.
A new misfortune was now revealed to us. During the tumult, the rebels
had thrown into the sea two barrels of wine, and the only two casks of
water which we had upon the raft. Two casks of wine had been consumed
the day before, and only one was left. We were more than sixty in
number, and we were obliged to put ourselves on half rations.
At break of day, the sea calmed, which permitted us again to erect our
mast. When it was replaced, we made a distribution of wine. The
unhappy soldiers murmured and blamed us for privations which we
equally endured with them. They fell exhausted. We had taken nothing
for forty-eight hours, and we had been obliged to struggle continually
against a strong sea. We could, like them, hardly support ourselves;
courage alone made us still act. We resolved to employ every possible
means to catch fish, and, collecting all the hooks and eyes from the
soldiers, made fish-hooks of them but all was of no avail. The
currents carried our lines under the raft, where they got entangled.
We bent a bayonet to catch sharks, one bit at it, and straitened it,
and we abandoned our project. Something was absolutely necessary to
sustain our miserable existence, and we tremble with horror at being
obliged to tell that of which we made use. We feel our pen fall from
our hands: a mortal cold congeals all our members, and our hair
bristles erect on our foreheads. Readers! we implore you, feel not
indignant towards men already overloaded with misery. Pity their
condition, and shed a tear of sorrow for their deplorable fate.
The wretches, whom death had spared during the disastrous night we
have described, seized upon the dead bodies with which the raft was
covered, cutting them up by slices, which some even instantly
devoured. Many nevertheless refrained. Almost all the officers were of
this number. Seeing that this monstrous food had revived the strength
of those who had used it, it was proposed to dry it, to make it a
little more palatable. Those who had firmness to abstain from it, took
an additional quantity of wine. We endeavored to eat shoulder-belts
and cartouch-boxes, and contrived to swallow some small bits of them.
Some eat linen; others the leathers of their hats, on which was a
little grease or rather dirt. We had recourse to many expedients to
prolong our miserable existence, to recount which would only disgust
the heart of humanity.
The day was calm and beautiful. A ray of hope beamed for a moment to
quiet our agitation. We still expected to see the boats or some ships,
and addressed our prayers to the Eternal, on whom we placed our trust.
The half of our men were extremely feeble, and bore upon their faces
the stamp of approaching dissolution. The evening arrived, and we
found no help. The darkness of the third night augmented our fears,
but the wind was still, and the sea less agitated. The sun of the
fourth morning since our departure shone upon our disaster, and showed
us ten or twelve of our companions stretched lifeless upon the raft.
This sight struck us most forcibly, as it told us we would be soon
extended in the same manner in the same place. We gave their bodies to
the sea for a grave, reserving only one to feed those who, but the day
before, had held his trembling hands, and sworn to him eternal
friendship. This day was beautiful. Our souls, anxious for more
delightful sensations, were in harmony with the aspect of the heavens,
and got again a new ray of hope. Towards four in the afternoon, an
unlooked for event happened which gave us some consolation. A shoal of
flying fish passed under our raft, and as there were an infinite
number of openings between the pieces which composed it, the fish were
entangled in great quantities. We threw ourselves upon them, and
captured a considerable number. We took about two hundred and put them
in an empty barrel; we opened them as we caught them, and took out
what is called their milt. This food seemed delicious: but one man
would have required a thousand. Our first emotion was to give to God
renewed thanks for this unhoped for favor.
An ounce of gunpowder having been found in the morning, was dried in
the sun during the day, which was very fine; a steel, gunflints, and
tinder made also a part of the same parcel. After a good deal of
difficulty we set fire to some fragments of dry linen. We made a large
opening in the side of an empty cask, and placed at the bottom of it
several wet things, and upon this kind of scaffolding we set our fire;
all of which we placed on a barrel that the sea-water might not
extinguish it. We cooked some fish and eat them with extreme avidity;
but our hunger was such, and our portion so small, that we added to it
some of the sacrilegious viands, which the cooking rendered less
revolting. This some of the officers touched for the first time. From
this day we continued to eat it; but we could no longer dress it, the
means of making a fire having been entirely lost; the barrel having
caught fire we extinguished it without being able to preserve
anything to rekindle it on the morrow. The powder and tinder were
entirely gone. This meal gave us all additional strength to support
our fatigues. The night was tolerable, and would have been happy, had
it not been signalized by a new massacre.
Some Spaniards, Italians, and negroes, had formed a plot to throw us
all into the sea. The negroes had told them that they were very near
the shore, and that, when there, they would enable them to traverse
Africa without danger. We had to take to our arms again, the sailors,
who had remained faithful to us, pointing out to us the conspirators.
The first signal for battle was given by a Spaniard, who, placing
himself behind the mast, holding fast by it, made the sign of the
Cross with one hand, invoking the name of God, and with the other held
a knife. The sailors seized him and threw him into the sea. An
Italian, servant to an officer of the troops, who was in the plot,
seeing all was discovered, armed himself with the only boarding axe
left on the raft, made his retreat to the front, enveloped himself in
a piece of drapery he wore across his breast, and of his own accord
threw himself into the sea. The rebels rushed forward to avenge their
comrades; a terrible conflict again commenced; both sides fought with
desperate fury; and soon the fatal raft was strewed with dead bodies
and blood, which should have been shed by other hands, and in another
cause. In this tumult we heard them again demanding, with horrid rage,
the head of Lieut. Danglas! In this assault the unfortunate sutler was
a second time thrown into the sea. M. Coudin, assisted by some
workmen, saved her, to prolong for a little while her torment and her
existence.
In this terrible night Lavilette failed not to give proofs of the
rarest intrepidity. It was to him and some of those who had survived
the sequel of our misfortunes, that we owed our safety. At last, after
unheard of efforts, the rebels were once more repulsed, and quiet
restored. Having escaped this new danger, we endeavored to get some
repose. The day at length dawned upon us for the fifth time. We were
now no more than thirty in number. We had lost four or five of our
faithful sailors, and those who survived were in the most deplorable
condition. The sea-water had almost entirely excoriated the skin of
our lower extremities; we were covered with contusions or wounds,
which, irritated by the salt water, extorted from us the most piercing
cries. About twenty of us only were capable of standing upright or
walking. Almost all our fish was exhausted; we had but four days'
supply of wine: in four days, said we, nothing will be left, and death
will be inevitable. Thus came the seventh day of our abandonment. In
the course of the day two soldiers had glided behind the only barrel
of wine that was left; pierced it, and were drinking by means of a
reed. We had sworn that those who used such means should be punished
with death; which law was instantly put in execution, and the two
transgressors were thrown into the sea.
This same day saw the close of the life of a child named Leon, aged
twelve years. He died like a lamp which ceases to burn for want of
aliment. All spoke in favor of this young and amiable creature, who
merited a better fate. His angelic form, his musical voice, the
interest of an age so tender increased still more by the courage he
had shown, and the services he had performed, for he had already made
in the preceding year a campaign in the East Indies, inspired us all
with the greatest pity for this young victim, devoted to so horrible
and premature a death. Our old soldiers and all our people in general
did everything they could to prolong his existence, but all was in
vain. Neither the wine which they gave him without regret, nor all the
means they employed, could arrest his melancholy doom, and he expired
in the arms of M. Coudin, who had not ceased to give him the most
unwearied attention. Whilst he had strength to move, he ran
incessantly from one side to the other, loudly calling for his unhappy
mother, for water and food. He trod indiscriminately on the feet and
legs of his companions in misfortune, who, in their turn, uttered
sorrowful cries, but these were very rarely accompanied with menaces;
they pardoned all which the poor boy had made them suffer. He was not
in his senses, consequently could not be expected to behave as if he
had had the use of his reason.
There now remained but twenty-seven of us. Fifteen of that number
seemed able to live yet some days; the rest, covered with large
wounds, had almost entirely lost the use of their reason. They still,
however, shared in the distributions, and would, before they died,
consume to thirty or forty bottles of wine, which to us were
inestimable. We deliberated, that by putting the sick on half
allowance was but putting them to death by halves: but after a
counsel, at which presided the most dreadful despair, it was decided
they should be thrown into the sea. This means, however repugnant,
however horrible it appeared to us, procured the survivors six days
wine. But after the decision was made, who durst execute it? The habit
of seeing death ready to devour us; the certainty of our infallible
destruction without this monstrous expedient; all, in short, had
hardened our hearts to every feeling but that of self-preservation.
Three sailors and a soldier took charge of this cruel business. We
looked aside and shed tears of blood at the fate of these
unfortunates. Among them were the wretched sutler and her husband.
Both had been grievously wounded in the different combats. The woman
had a thigh broken between the beams of the raft, and a stroke of a
sabre had made a deep wound in the head of her husband. Every thing
announced their approaching end. We consoled ourselves with the belief
that our cruel resolution shortened but a brief space the term of
their existence. Ye who shudder at the cry of outraged humanity,
recollect, that it was other men, fellow-countrymen, comrades who had
placed us in this awful situation!
This horrible expedient saved the fifteen who remained; for when we
were found by the Argus brig, we had very little wine left, and it was
the sixth day after the cruel sacrifice we have described. The
victims, we repeat, had not more than forty-eight hours to live, and
by keeping them on the raft, we would have been absolutely destitute
of the means of existence two days before we were found. Weak as we
were, we considered it as a certain thing, that it would have been
impossible for us to have lived only twenty-four hours more without
taking some food. After this catastrophe, we threw our arms into the
sea; they inspired us with a horror we could not overcome. We only
kept one sabre, in case we had to cut some cordage or some piece of
wood.
A new event, for everything was an event to wretches to whom the world
was reduced to the narrow space of a few toises, and for whom the
winds and waves contended in their fury as they floated above the
abyss; an event happened which diverted our minds from the horrors of
our situation. All on a sudden a white butterfly, of a species common
in France, came fluttering above our heads, and settled on our sails.
The first thought this little creature suggested was, that it was the
harbinger of approaching land, and we clung to the hope with a
delirium of joy. It was the ninth day we had been upon the raft; the
torments of hunger consumed our entrails; and the soldiers and sailors
already devoured with haggard eyes this wretched prey, and seemed
ready to dispute about it. Others looking upon it as a messenger from
Heaven, declared that they took it under their protection, and would
suffer none to do it harm. It is certain we could not be far from
land, for the butterflies continued to come on the following days, and
flutter about our sail. We had also on the same day another indication
not less positive, by a Goeland which flew around our raft. This
second visitor left us no doubt that we were fast approaching the
African soil, and we persuaded ourselves we would be speedily thrown
upon the coast by the force of the currents.
This same day a new care employed us. Seeing we were reduced to so
small a number, we collected all the little strength we had left,
detached some planks on the front of the raft, and, with some pretty
long pieces of wood, raised on the centre a kind of platform, on which
we reposed. All the effects we could collect were placed upon it, and
rendered to make it less hard; which also prevented the sea from
passing with such facility through the spaces between the different
planks, but the waves came across, and sometimes covered us
completely.
On this new theatre we resolved to meet death in a manner becoming
Frenchmen, and with perfect resignation. Our time was almost wholly
spent in speaking of our unhappy country. All our wishes, our last
prayers, were for the prosperity of France. Thus passed the last days
of our abode upon the raft.
Soon after our abandonment, we bore with comparative ease the
immersions during the nights, which are very cold in these countries;
but latterly, every time the waves washed over us, we felt a most
painful sensation, and we uttered plaintive cries. We employed every
means to avoid it. Some supported their heads on pieces of wood, and
made with what they could find a sort of little parapet to screen them
from the force of the waves; others sheltered themselves behind two
empty casks. But these means were very insufficient: it was only when
the sea was calm that it did not break over us.
An ardent thirst, redoubled in the day by the beams of a burning sun,
consumed us. An officer of the army found by chance a small lemon, and
it may be easily imagined how valuable such a fruit would be to him.
His comrades, in spite of the most urgent entreaties, could not get a
bit of it from him. Signs of rage were already manifested, and had he
not partly listened to the solicitations of those around him, they
would have taken it by force, and he would have perished the victim of
his selfishness. We also disputed about thirty cloves of garlic which
were found in the bottom of a sack. These disputes were for the most
part accompanied with violent menaces, and if they had been prolonged,
we might perhaps have come to the last extremities. There was found
also two small phials, in which was a spirituous liquid for cleaning
the teeth. He who possessed them kept them with care, and gave with
reluctance one or two drops in the palm of the hand. This liquor
which, we think, was a tincture of guiacum, cinnamon, cloves, and
other aromatic substances, produced on our tongues an agreeable
feeling, and for a short while removed the thirst which destroyed us.
Some of us found some small pieces of powder, which made, when put
into the mouth, a kind of coolness. One plan generally employed was to
put into a hat a quantity of sea-water with which we washed our faces
for a while, repeating it at intervals. We also bathed our hair and
held our hands in the water. Misfortune made us ingenious, and each
thought of a thousand means to alleviate his sufferings. Emaciated by
the most cruel privations, the least agreeable feeling was to us a
happiness supreme. Thus we sought with avidity a small empty phial
which one of us possessed, and in which had once been some essence of
roses; and every one as he got hold of it respired with delight the
odor it exhaled, which imparted to his senses the most soothing
impressions. Many of us kept our ration of wine in a small tin cup,
and sucked it out with a quill. This manner of taking it was of great
benefit to us, and allayed our thirst much better than if we had
gulped it off at once.
Three days passed in inexpressible anguish. So much did we despise
life, that many of us feared not to bathe in sight of the sharks which
surrounded our raft; others placed themselves naked upon the front of
our machine, which was under water. These expedients diminished a
little the ardor of their thirst. A species of molusca, known to
seamen by the name of gatere, was sometimes driven in great numbers on
our raft; and when their long arms rested on our naked bodies, they
occasioned us the most cruel sufferings. Will it be believed, that
amidst these terrible scenes, struggling with inevitable death, some
of us uttered pleasantries which made us yet smile, in spite of the
horrors of our situation? One, besides others, said jestingly, 'If the
brig is sent to search for us, pray God it has the eyes of Argus,' in
allusion to the name of the vessel we presumed would be sent to our
assistance. This consolatory idea never left us an instant, and we
spoke of it frequently.
On the 16th, reckoning we were very near land, eight of the most
determined among us resolved to endeavor to gain the coast. A second
raft, of smaller dimensions, was formed for transporting them thither:
but it was found insufficient, and they at length determined to await
death in their present situation. Meanwhile night came on, and its
sombre veil revived in our minds the most afflicting thoughts. We were
convinced there were not above a dozen or fifteen bottles of wine in
our barrel. We began to have an invincible disgust at the flesh which
had till then scarcely supported us; and we may say, that the sight of
it inspired us with feelings of horror, doubtless produced by the idea
of our approaching destruction.
On the morning of the 17th, the sun appeared free from clouds. After
having addressed our prayers to the Eternal, we divided among us a
part of our wine. Each, with delight, was taking his small portion,
when a captain of infantry, casting his eyes on the horizon, perceived
a ship, announced it to us by an exclamation of joy. We knew it to be
a brig, but it was at a great distance; we could distinguish the
masts. The sight of this vessel revived in us emotions difficult to
describe. Each believed his deliverance sure, and we gave a thousand
thanks to God. Fears, however, mingled with our hopes. We straightened
some hoops of casks, to the ends of which we fixed handkerchiefs of
different colors. A man, with our united assistance, mounted to the
top of the mast, and waved these little flags. For more than half an
hour, we were tossed between hope and fear. Some thought the vessel
grew larger, and others were convinced its course was from us. These
last were the only ones whose eyes were not blinded by hope, for the
ship disappeared.
From the delirium of joy, we passed to that of despondency and sorrow.
We envied the fate of those whom we had seen perish at our sides; and
we said to ourselves, 'When we shall be in want of everything, and
when our strength begins to forsake us, we will wrap ourselves up as
well as we can, we will stretch ourselves on this platform, the
witness of the most cruel sufferings, and there await death with
resignation.' At length, to calm our despair, we sought for
consolation in the arm of sleep. The day before, we had been scorched
by the beams of a burning sun: to-day, to avoid the fierceness of his
rays, we made a tent with the main-sail of the frigate. As soon as it
was finished, we laid ourselves under it; thus all that was passing
without was hid from our eyes. We proposed then to write upon a plank
an abridgement of our adventures, and to add our names at the bottom
of the recital, and fix it to the upper part of the mast, in the hope
it would reach the government and our families.
After having passed two hours, a prey to the most cruel reflections,
the master gunner of the frigate, wishing to go to the front of the
raft, went out from below the tent. Scarcely had he put out his head,
when he turned to us, uttering a piercing cry. Joy was painted upon
his face; his hands were stretched towards the sea; he breathed with
difficulty. All he was able to say was; 'SAVED! SEE THE BRIG UPON US!'
and in fact it was not more than half a league distant having every
sail set, and steering right upon us. We rushed from our tent; even
those whom enormous wounds in their inferior extremities had confined
for many days, dragged themselves to the back of the raft, to enjoy a
sight of the ship which had come to save us from certain death. We
embraced one another with a transport which looked much like madness,
and tears of joy trickled down our cheeks, withered by the most cruel
privations. Each seized handkerchiefs, or some pieces of linen, to
make signals to the brig, which was rapidly approaching us. Some fell
on their knees, and fervently returned thanks to Providence for this
miraculous preservation of their lives. Our joy redoubled when saw we
at the top of the fore-mast a large white flag, and we cried, 'It is
then to Frenchmen we will owe our deliverance.' We instantly
recognised the brig to be the Argus; it was then about two gunshots
from us. We were terribly impatient to see her reef her sails, which
at last she did, and fresh cries of joy arose from our raft. The Argus
came and lay-to on our starboard, about half a pistol-shot from us.
The crew, ranged upon the deck and on the shrouds, announced to us, by
the waving of their hands and hats, the pleasure they felt at coming
to the assistance of their unfortunate countrymen. In a short time we
were all transported on board the brig, where we found the lieutenant
of the frigate, and some others who had been wrecked with us.
Compassion was painted on every face, and pity drew tears from every
eye which beheld us.
We found some excellent broth on board the brig, which they had
prepared, and when they had perceived us they added to it some wine,
and thus restored our nearly exhausted strength. They bestowed on us
the most generous care and attention; our wounds were dressed, and on
the morrow many of our sick began to revive. Some, however, still
suffered much, for they were placed between decks, very near the
kitchen, which augmented the almost insupportable heat of these
latitudes. This want of space arose from the small size of the vessel.
The number of the shipwrecked was indeed very considerable. Those who
did not belong to the navy were laid upon cables, wrapped in flags,
and placed under the fire of the kitchen. Here they had almost
perished during the course of the night, fire having broken out
between decks about ten in the evening; but timely assistance being
rendered, we were saved for the second time. We had scarcely escaped
when some of us became again delirious. An officer of infantry wished
to throw himself into the sea, to look for his pocket book, and would
have done it had he not been prevented. Others were seized in a manner
not less frenzied.
The commander and officers of the brig watched over us, and kindly
anticipated our wants. They snatched us from death, by saving us from
our raft; their unremitting care revived within us the spark of life.
The surgeon of the ship, M. Renaud, distinguished himself for his
indefatigable zeal. He was obliged to spend the whole of the day in
dressing our wounds; and during the two days we were in the brig, he
bestowed on us all the aid of his art, with an attention and
gentleness which merit our eternal gratitude.
In truth, it was time we should find an end of our sufferings; they
had lasted thirteen days, in the most cruel manner. The strongest
among us might have lived forty-eight hours or so, longer. M. Correard
felt that he must die in the course of the day; he had, however a
presentiment we would be saved. He said, that a series of events so
unheard of would not be buried in oblivion; that Providence would at
least preserve some of us to tell to the world the melancholy story of
our misfortunes.
Such is the faithful history of those who were left upon the memorable
raft. Of one hundred and fifty, fifteen only were saved. Five of that
number never recovered from their fatigue, and died at St. Louis.
Those who yet live are covered with scars; and the cruel sufferings to
which they have been exposed, have materially shaken their
constitutions.
THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.
On the 29th of August, 1782, it was found necessary that the Royal
George, a line-of-battle ship of 108 guns, which had lately arrived at
Spithead from a cruise, should, previously to her going again to sea,
undergo the operation which seamen technically call a Parliament heel.
In such cases the ship is inclined in a certain degree on one side,
while the defects below the water-mark on the other side are examined
and repaired. This mode of proceeding is, we believe at the present
day, very commonly adopted where the defects to be repaired are not
extensive, or where (as was the case with the Royal George) it is
desirable to avoid the delay of going into dock. The operation is
usually performed in still weather and smooth water, and is attended
with so little difficulty and danger, that the officers and crew
usually remain on board, and neither the guns nor stores are removed.
The business was commenced on the Royal George early in the morning, a
gang of men from the Portsmouth Dock-yard coming on board to assist
the ship's carpenters. It is said that, finding it necessary to strip
off more of the sheathing than had been intended, the men in their
eagerness to reach the defect in the ship's bottom, were induced to
heel her too much, when a sudden squall of wind threw her wholly on
her side; and the gun-ports being open, and the cannon rolling over to
the depressed side, the ship was unable to right herself,
instantaneously filled with water, and went to the bottom.
The fatal accident happened about ten o'clock in the morning. Admiral
Kempenfeldt was writing in his cabin, and the greater part of the
people were between decks. The ship, as is usually the case upon
coming into port, was crowded with people from the shore, particularly
women, of whom it is supposed there were not less than three hundred
on board. Amongst the sufferers were many of the wives and children of
the petty officers and seamen, who, knowing the ship was shortly to
sail on a distant and perilous service, eagerly embraced the
opportunity of visiting their husbands and fathers.
The Admiral, with many brave officers and most of those who were
between decks, perished; the greater number of the guard, and those
who happened to be on the upper deck, were saved by the boats of the
fleet. About seventy others were likewise saved. The exact number of
persons on board at the time could not be ascertained; but it was
calculated that from 800 to 1000 were lost. Captain Waghorn whose
gallantry in the North Sea Battle, under Admiral Parker, had procured
him the command of this ship, was saved, though he was severely
bruised and battered; but his son, a lieutenant in the Royal George,
perished. Such was the force of the whirlpool, occasioned by the
sudden plunge of so vast a body in the water, that a victualler which
lay alongside the Royal George was swamped; and several small craft,
at a considerable distance, were in imminent danger.
Admiral Kempenfeldt, who was nearly 70 years of age, was peculiarly
and universally lamented. In point of general science and judgment, he
was one of the first naval officers of his time; and, particularly in
the art of manoeuvring a fleet, he was considered by the commanders of
that day as unrivalled. His excellent qualities, as a man, are said to
have equalled his professional merits.
This melancholy occurrence has been recorded by the poet Cowper, in
the following beautiful lines:--
Toll for the brave!
The brave, that are no more:
All sunk beneath the wave,
Fast by their native shore.
Eight hundred of the brave,
Whose courage well was tried,
Had made the vessel heel,
And laid her on her side.
A land-breeze shook the shrouds,
And she was overset;
Down went the Royal George,
With all her crew complete.
Toll for the brave!
Brave Kempenfeldt is gone;
His last sea-fight is fought;
His work of glory done.
It was not in the battle;
No tempest gave the shock,
She sprang no fatal leak;
She ran upon no rock.
His sword was in its sheath;
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfeldt went down,
With twice four hundred men.
Weigh the vessel up,
Once dreaded by our foes!
And mingle with our cup
The tear that England owes.
Her timbers yet are sound,
And she may float again,
Full charg'd with England's thunder
And plough the distant main.
But Kempenfeldt is gone,
His victories are o'er;
And he, and his eight hundred,
Shall plough the wave no more.
LOSS OF THE ÆNEAS TRANSPORT.
The Æneas transport sailed with 347 souls on board, including a party
of men belonging to the 100th regiment of foot, as also some officers,
together with several women and children. About four in the morning of
the 23d of Oct. 1805, the vessel struck violently on a rock, and
received such damage that her total wreck soon became evident to all
on board. For the first few minutes after this alarming occurrence,
the women and children clung to their husbands and fathers; but in a
short time, a prodigious wave swept not less than 250 of those
miserable people into the ocean. The rock whereon the vessel had
struck, speedily forced its way through the decks, and then it
appears, from her parting, thirty-five of the survivors were driven on
a small island before eight in the morning, about a quarter of a mile
distant, but when she had entirely gone to pieces.
The narrative of these events was collected from one of the survivors,
a soldier of the 100th regiment, who could give no correct account of
how he and the others got ashore, but he supposed they were floated in
by part of the wreck. He remembered to have observed one of the boys
endeavoring to save Major Bertram, whose arm was broken by some
timber, and he was on the point of sinking; he held him up as long as
his strength permitted; but to save his own life, was forced to let go
his hold, and the Major perished.
The thirty-five men who gained the shore, consisted of part of the
regiment, two of whom were officers, Lieutenant Dawson and Ensign
Faulkner, and seven sailors. Immediately on landing, the wind
unfortunately changed, so that not an article of any kind was saved
from the wreck. Mr. Faulkner was aware of the real situation they had
reached, judging the main-land, which they saw about a mile distant,
to be Newfoundland, and that they were about 300 miles distant from
the town of St. John's.
After passing one night on the little island, they constructed a raft,
by means of which, thirty of them arrived on the main-land. Previous
to this, however, four survivors of the shipwreck had died, among whom
was the poor fellow who had endeavored to save Major Bertram. Another,
who had both his legs broken, was missing, as he had crawled away from
his comrades, that he might die in quiet. But eight days afterwards,
he was found alive, though in a shocking state, as his feet were
frozen off. Yet he survived all this, and reached Quebec at a future
period. Most of the party set out, leaving three behind them, who were
unable to walk from bruises, and directed their course towards the
rising sun, but when the first day had elapsed, Lieutenant Dawson
became incapable of keeping up with the remainder; and two soldiers
staid to attend him. These three toiled onwards without any food,
except the berries which they found; and Lieutenant Dawson was then
unable to stand, unless supported.--On reaching the banks of a river,
one of the soldiers attempted to carry him across on his back; but
having waded up to the neck, he was obliged to return, and lay him
down on the bank. There Mr. Dawson entreated his faithful attendants
to make the best of their way, and leave him to his fate; and at the
same time, affectionately squeezing their hands, he entreated them to
inform his father of his melancholy end.--Here the soldier, who was
one of them, and who related these affecting incidents, burst into a
flood of tears before he could proceed. "We staid with him," said he,
"until we did not know whether he was alive or dead."
The two survivors continued wandering in a weak and feeble state for
twelve days longer, making twenty-six in all from the period of their
shipwreck, and subsisting on what they could find on a barren and
inhospitable land. But after the first four or five days, they
suffered no hunger, for, as they themselves said, their misfortunes
were so great as to banish its influence, and to deprive them of the
sense of feeling.--The snow besides was so deep during the last two
days, as to prevent them from getting the berries as usual.
At last they were found by a man belonging to a hunting party, who,
little suspecting to see human beings in that desolate region, took
them at a distance for deer, and had concealed himself behind a fallen
tree, with his gun pointed towards one of them, when his dog, leaping
towards them, began to bark, and shewed his error. When they related
their shipwreck, and the sufferings they had endured, tears stole down
the cheeks of the huntsman, and, taking the moccasins from his feet,
gave them to the poor miserable creatures. He invited them to his
hunting cabin, saying it was only a mile off, though the real distance
was at least twelve miles; but, by degrees he enticed them to proceed,
and at length they gained it. On approaching the hut, four or five men
came out with long bloody knives in their hands, when the narrator,
turning to his comrade, exclaimed, "After all we have escaped, are we
brought here to be butchered and ate up?"--But they soon discovered
their mistake, for the men had been cutting up some deer, the fruit of
their chase; and the appearance of the unfortunate soldiers quickly
exciting sentiments of pity in their breast, they produced a bottle of
rum, wherewith they were refreshed.
Every possible comfort was ministered by the hunters to the
unfortunate wanderers, and, from the accounts and description given to
them, they set out in quest of the others. They luckily succeeded in
finding the man who remained the first day on the island, and also
the other two who were unable to leave the shore.
The two men who had accompanied Lieutenant Dawson, appeared to have
made but little progress during twenty-six days of travelling, for
they were discovered in a place not very remote from whence they set
out. Thus, involved among the woods, they must have returned over the
same ground that they had passed.
Those who the huntsman first met endeavored to make them understand
where they might find the remains of Lieutenant Dawson, and Ensign
Faulkner and his party, but they could speak too vaguely of where they
had themselves been, to give any pointed directions on the subject.
But two of the latter were found by a man on another hunting
excursion, about 90 miles distant, apparently lifeless; though on
being carried to an adjacent settlement they recovered. Of the whole
35 who survived the wreck of the transport, accounts could be heard
only of these five.
Ensign Faulkner was a strong, active, enterprising man, and fully
capable of adopting whatever means could be devised for preservation.
Both he and Lieutenant Dawson, who was scarce more than 17 years of
age, were of the greatest promise. While the transport lay about three
miles from Portsmouth, they are said to have swam to the ship, when
the former climbed up her side, but the latter was nearly exhausted.
A brig from Port, which touched at Newfoundland, carried five of the
survivors from thence to Quebec; and when they arrived there in the
barrack square, a most affecting scene ensued. Men and women eagerly
flocked around them, with anxious inquiries for some friend or brother
who was on board the ill-fated vessel. But all they could answer was,
"If you do not see him here, be assured he has perished; for, of 347
souls, we five Irish lads and two sailors are all that remain alive."
The tears and exclamations following these words can scarce be
described.
THE ABSENT SHIP.
Fair ship, I saw thee bounding o'er the deep,
Thy white wings glancing in the morning ray
And many a sparkling eye in vain did weep
For the bold hearts that steer'd thee on thy way:
Long days of grief have lingered into years:
Return! return! and charm away their tears.
I listen'd till the music and the song
Died on the waters as she swept along;
I watch'd her stately beauty, till it grew
A fading shadow on the distant blue;
Less, and still less--the waters are alone!
Queen of the ocean! whither art thou gone?
The wintry storm hath sighed itself to sleep,
Yet still thou lingerest on the faithless deep;
Have calmer seas, and skies of deeper blue,
Charm'd thee to bid thine island home adieu!
Long has yon dark-eye'd maiden wept in vain:
Return! return! and bid her smile again.
Long may'st thou weep, but never shalt thou see
Thy fair-hair'd mariner return to thee,
Clasp thy young beauty in a long embrace,
And read his pardon in thy happy face;
Thy gentle prayers, fair mourner, could not save!
Thy sailor sleeps within the stormy wave.
[Illustration: WRECK OF THE HALSEWELL, ON THE COAST OF ENGLAND]
LOSS OF THE HALSEWELL.
The catastrophe which is now about to be related made a deep
impression on the public mind. The circumstances attending it were too
aggravating not to excite the highest degree of commiseration, whether
from the flattering prospects held forth in the outset of the voyage,
or from a peculiar feeling towards the condition of the sufferers.
The Halsewell East Indiaman, of 758 tons burthen, commanded by Captain
Richard Pierce, was taken up by the directors of the East India
Company to make her third voyage to Coast and Bay. On the 16th of
November 1785, she fell down to Gravesend, where she completed her
lading. Ladies and other passengers being taken on board at the Hope,
she sailed through the Downs on Sunday the 1st of January 1786; and,
when abreast of Dunnose next morning, the weather fell calm.
This was one of the finest ships in the service, and judged to be in
the most perfect condition for her voyage. Her commander was of
distinguished ability and exemplary character; his officers of
approved fidelity and unquestionable knowledge in their profession,
and the crew not only as numerous as the East India establishment
admits, but the best seamen that could be collected. To these were
added a considerable body of soldiers, destined to recruit the forces
of the East India Company in Asia.
The passengers were seven ladies, two of whom were daughters to the
captain, and other two his relations. Miss Elizabeth Blackburne,
daughter of Captain Blackburne; Miss Mary Haggard, sister to an
officer on the Madras establishment, and Miss Anne Mansel, a child of
European parents residing in Madras, returning from her education in
England. There was also Mr. John George Schutz, returning to collect
part of his fortune, which he had left behind him in India.
The ladies were equally distinguished by their beauty and
accomplishments; the gentlemen of amiable manners, and of a highly
respectable character. Mr. Burston, the chief mate, was also related
to Captain Pierce's lady, and the whole formed a happy society united
in friendship. Nothing could be more pleasing or encouraging than the
outset of the voyage.
On Monday the 2d of January, a breeze from the south sprung up at
three in the afternoon, when the ship ran in shore to land the pilot.
Very thick weather coming on in the evening, and the wind baffling,
she was obliged to anchor, at nine o'clock, in eighteen fathom water.
The topsails were furled, but the people could not furl the courses,
the snow falling thick and freezing as it fell.
Next morning at four a strong gale came on from east-north-east, and
the ship shivering, they were obliged to cut the cables and run out to
sea. At noon they spoke with a brig bound to Dublin, and, having put
the pilot on board of her, immediately bore down channel. The wind
freshening at eight in the evening, and coming round to the southward,
such sails were reefed as were judged necessary. It blew a violent
gale at ten o'clock from the south, whence they were obliged to carry
a press of sail to keep the ship off shore.--In doing this, the
hawse-plugs, which according to a late improvement, were put inside,
were washed in, and the hawse-bags washed away, in consequence of
which the vessel shipped a large quantity of water on the gun-deck.
On sounding the well, and finding the ship had sprung a leak, and now
had five feet water in the hold, the people clewed up the
main-topsail, hauled up the mainsail, and immediately endeavored to
furl both, but could not effect it. On discovering the leak all the
pumps were set to work.
At two in the morning of Wednesday the fourth, they tried to wear the
ship, but without success, and judging it necessary to cut away the
mizen-mast, this was immediately done, when another attempt made to
wear her was equally fruitless as the former. The ship had now seven
feet water in the hold which was gaining fast on the pumps, therefore,
for her preservation it was considered expedient to cut away the
mainmast, as she appeared to be in immediate danger of foundering.
In the fall of the mast, Jonathan Moreton, coxswain, and four men,
were either drawn along with the wreck, or fell overboard and were
drowned. By eight in the morning the wreck was cleared, and the ship
got before the wind, in which position she was kept two hours.
Meantime the pumps reduced the water in the hold two feet, and the
ship's head was brought to the eastward with the foresail only.
At ten in the morning the wind abated considerably, but the ship
labouring extremely, rolled the fore-topmast over on the larboard
side, and, in the fall, the wreck went through the foresail, tearing
it to pieces. At eleven the wind came to the westward, and the weather
clearing up, the Berryhead was distinguishable, bearing north and by
east, distant four or five leagues. Another foresail was now
immediately bent, a jury-mainmast erected and a top-gallantsail set
for a mainsail, under which sail Captain Pierce bore up for
Portsmouth, and employed the remainder of the day in getting up a
jury-mizen-mast.
At two next morning, the wind came to the southward, blowing fresh,
the weather being very thick. Portland was seen at noon, bearing north
and by east, distant two or three leagues. At night, it blew a strong
gale at south, at which time the Portland lights were then seen,
bearing north-west, distant four or five leagues. The ship was then
wore, and her head got round to the westward; but finding she lost
ground on that tack, the captain wore her again, and kept stretching
on to the eastward, in hopes to have weathered Peverel Point, in which
case he intended to have anchored in Studland Bay. It cleared at
eleven at night, and St. Alban's Head was seen a mile and a half to
the leeward, on which, sail was instantly taken in, and the small
bower anchor let go, which brought up the ship at a whole cable. She
rode for about an hour, but then drove; the sheet anchor was now let
go, and a whole cable wore away, and the ship rode for about two hours
longer, when she drove again.
While in this situation, the captain sent for Mr. Henry Meriton, the
second mate, and asked his opinion as to the probability of saving the
lives of those on board; to which he replied with equal calmness and
candor, that he apprehended there was very little hope of it, as the
ship was driving fast on shore, and might every moment be expected to
strike. The boats were then mentioned, but it was agreed, that
although at that time they could be of very little use, yet in case an
opportunity of making them serviceable should present itself, it was
proposed that the officers should be confidentially requested to
reserve the long boat for the ladies and themselves; and this
precaution was immediately taken.
About two in the morning of Friday the sixth of January, the ship
still driving, and approaching very fast to the shore, the same
officer went again into the cuddy, where the captain then was. Another
conversation taking place, Captain Pierce expressed extreme anxiety
for the preservation of his beloved daughters, and earnestly asked the
officer if he could devise any method of saving them. On his answering
with great concern, that he feared it would be impossible, but that
their only chance would be to wait for morning, the captain lifted up
his hands in silent and distressful ejaculation.
At this dreadful moment, the ship struck, with such violence as to
dash the heads of those standing in the cuddy against the deck above
them, and the shock was accompanied by a shriek of horror that burst
at one instant from every quarter of the ship.
Many of the seamen, who had been remarkably inattentive and remiss in
their duty during a great part of the storm, now poured upon deck,
where no exertions of the officers could keep them, while their
assistance might have been useful.--They had actually skulked in their
hammocks, leaving the working of the pumps and other necessary labours
to the officers of the ship, and the soldiers, who had made uncommon
exertions. Roused by a sense of their danger, the same seamen, at this
moment, in frantic exclamations, demanded of heaven and their fellow
sufferers, that succour which their own efforts timely made might
possibly have procured.
The ship continued to beat on the rocks, and soon bilging, fell with
her broadside towards the shore. When she struck, a number of men
climbed up the ensign-staff, under an apprehension of her immediately
going to pieces.
Mr. Meriton, the second mate, at this crisis offered to these unhappy
beings the best advice which could be given; he recommended that all
should come to the side of the ship lying lowest on the rocks, and
singly to take the opportunities which might then offer, of escaping
to the shore.
Having thus provided to the utmost of his power, for the safety of the
desponding crew, he returned to the round-house, where, by this time,
all the passengers, and most of the officers had assembled. The latter
were employed in offering consolation to the unfortunate ladies, and
with unparalleled magnanimity, suffering their compassion for the fair
and amiable companions of their misfortunes, to prevail over the sense
of their own danger.
In this charitable work of comfort, Mr. Meriton now joined, by
assurances of his opinion, that the ship would hold together till the
morning, when all would be safe. Captain Pierce observing one of the
young gentlemen loud in his exclamations of terror, and frequently cry
that the ship was parting, cheerfully bid him be quiet, remarking,
that though the ship should go to pieces, he would not, but would be
safe enough.
It is difficult to convey a correct idea of the scene of this
deplorable catastrophe, without describing the place where it
happened.
The Halsewell struck on the rocks near Seacombe, on the island of
Purbeck, between Peverel Point and St. Alban's Head, at a part of the
shore where the cliff is of vast height, and rises almost
perpendicular from its base. But at this particular spot, the foot of
the cliff is excavated into a cavern of ten or twelve yards in depth,
and of breadth equal to the length of a large ship. The sides of the
cavern are so nearly upright as to be of extremely difficult access;
and the bottom is strewed with sharp and uneven rocks, which seem, by
some convulsion of the earth, to have been detached from its roof.
The ship lay with her broadside opposite to the mouth of this cavern,
with her whole length stretched almost from side to side of it. But
when she struck, it was too dark for the unfortunate persons on board
to discover the real magnitude of their danger, and the extreme horror
of such a situation.--Even Mr. Meriton entertained a hope that she
might keep together till day-light; and endeavored to cheer his
drooping friends, and in particular the unhappy ladies, with this
comfortable expectation, as an answer to the captain's inquiries what
he thought of their condition.
In addition to the company already in the round-house, they had
admitted three black women and two soldier's wives, who, with the
husband of one of them, had been allowed to come in, though the
seamen, who had tumultuously demanded entrance to get the lights, had
been opposed and kept out by Mr. Rogers and Mr. Brimer, the third and
fifth mates. The numbers there were therefore now increased to near
fifty. Capt. Pierce sat on a chair, a cot or some other moveable, with
a daughter on each side, whom he alternately pressed to his
affectionate breast. The rest of the melancholy assembly were seated
on the deck, which was strewed with musical instruments, and the wreck
of furniture and other articles.
Here also Mr. Meriton, after having cut several wax candles in pieces
and stuck them up in various parts of the round-house, and lighted up
all the glass lanthorns he could find, took his seat, intending to
wait the approach of dawn; and then assist the partners of his danger
to escape. But observing that the poor ladies appeared parched and
exhausted, he brought a basket of oranges and prevailed on some of
them to refresh themselves by sucking a little of the juice. At this
time they were all tolerably composed, except Miss Mansel, who was in
hysteric fits, on the floor of the deck of the round-house.
But on Mr. Meriton's return to the company, he perceived a
considerable alteration in the appearance of the ship; the sides were
visibly giving way; the deck seemed to be lifting and he discovered
other strong indications that she could not hold much longer together.
On this account, he attempted to go forward to look out, but
immediately saw that the ship had separated in the middle, and that
the fore-part having changed its position, lay further towards the
sea. In such an emergency, when the next moment might plunge him into
eternity, he determined to seize the present opportunity, and follow
the example of the crew and the soldiers, who were now quitting the
ship in numbers, and making their way to the shore, though quite
ignorant of its nature and description.
Among other expedients, the ensign-staff had been unshipped, and
attempted to be laid between the ship's side and some of the rocks,
but without success, for it snapped assunder before it reached them.
However, by the light of a lanthorn which a seaman handed through a
sky-light of the round-house to the deck, Mr. Meriton discovered a
spar which appeared to be laid from the ship's side to the rocks, and
on this spar he resolved to attempt his escape.
Accordingly lying down upon it, he thrust himself forward; however, he
soon found that it had no communication with the rock; he reached the
end of it and then slipped off, receiving a very violent bruise in his
fall, and before he could recover his legs, he was washed off by the
surge. He now supported himself by swimming, until a returning wave
dashed him against the back part of the cavern. Here he laid hold of a
small projection in the rock, but was so much benumbed that he was on
the point of quitting it, when a seaman, who had already gained a
footing, extended his hand, and assisted him until he could secure
himself a little on the rock; from which he clambered on a shelf still
higher, and out of the reach of the surf.
Mr. Rogers, the third mate, remained with the captain, and the
unfortunate ladies and their companions, nearly twenty minutes after
Mr. Meriton had quitted the ship. Soon after the latter left the
round-house, the captain asked what was become of him, to which Mr.
Rogers replied, that he was gone on deck to see what could be done.
After this, a heavy sea breaking over the ship, the ladies exclaimed,
"O poor Meriton! he is drowned! had he staid with us he would have
been safe!" and they all, particularly Miss Mary Pierce, expressed
great concern at the apprehension of his loss. On this occasion Mr.
Rogers offered to go and call in Mr. Meriton, but it was opposed by
the ladies, from an apprehension that he might share the same fate.
The sea was now breaking in at the fore-part of the ship, and reached
as far as the mainmast. Captain Pierce gave Mr. Rogers a nod, and they
took a lamp and went together into the stern-gallery, where, after
viewing the rocks for some time, Captain Pierce asked Mr. Rogers if he
thought there was any possibility of saving the girls; to which he
replied, he feared there was none; for they could only discover the
black face of the perpendicular rock, and not the cavern which
afforded shelter to those who escaped. They then returned to the
round-house, where Mr. Rogers hung up the lamp, and Captain Pierce sat
down between his two daughters, struggling to suppress the parental
tears which burst into his eyes.
The sea continuing to break in very fast, Mr. Macmanus, a midshipman,
and Mr. Schutz, asked Mr. Rogers what they could do to escape. "Follow
me," he replied, and they all went into the stern gallery, and from
thence to the upper-quarter-gallery on the poop. While there, a very
heavy sea fell on board and the round-house gave way; Mr. Rogers heard
the ladies shriek at intervals, as if the water reached them; the
noise of the sea, at other times, drowning their voices.
Mr. Brimer had followed him to the poop, where they remained together
about five minutes; when on the breaking of this heavy sea, they
jointly seized a hen-coop. The same wave which proved fatal to some of
those below, carried him and his companion to the rock, on which they
were violently dashed and miserably bruised.
Here on the rock were twenty-seven, but it now being low water, and as
they were convinced that on the flowing of the tide all must be washed
off, many tried to get to the back or the sides of the cavern, beyond
the reach of the returning sea. Scarcely more than six, besides Mr.
Rogers and Mr. Brimer, succeeded; of the others, some shared the fate
which they had apprehended, and others perished in their efforts to
get into the cavern. Mr. Rogers and Mr. Brimer both reached it,
however, and scrambled up the rock, on narrow shelves of which they
fixed themselves. Mr. Rogers got so near his friend, Mr. Meriton, as
to exchange mutual congratulations with him. A warm friendship,
indeed, subsisted between these two gentlemen; they had made a long
and painful voyage together, in another Indiaman, where they survived
an uncommon mortality by which the crew were visited. They returned to
England, and an interval of only twenty-five days elapsed, before they
again embarked in the Halsewell.
Mr. Rogers on gaining this station, was so nearly exhausted, that had
his exertions been protracted only a few minutes longer, he must have
sunk under them. He was now prevented from joining Mr. Meriton, by at
least twenty men between them, none of whom could move without the
imminent peril of his life.
They found that a very considerable number of the crew, seamen, and
soldiers, and some petty officers, were in the same situation as
themselves, though many who had reached the rocks below, perished in
attempting to ascend. They could yet discern some part of the ship,
and in their dreary station solaced themselves with the hope of its
remaining entire until day-break; for in the midst of their own
distress, the sufferings of the females on board affected them with
the most poignant anguish; and every sea that broke, inspired them
with terror for their safety.
But, alas, their apprehensions were too soon realized!--Within a very
few minutes of the time that Mr. Rogers gained the rock, an universal
shriek, which long vibrated in their ears, in which the voice of
female distress was lamentably distinguished, announced the dreadful
catastrophe. In a few moments all was hushed, except the roaring of
the winds and the dashing of the waves; the wreck was buried in the
deep, and not an atom of it was ever afterwards seen.
The shock which this gave to the trembling wretches in the cavern was
awful. Though themselves hardly rescued from the sea, and still
surrounded by impending dangers, they wept for the destiny of their
unhappy companions. But this was not all. Many who had gained a
precarious station, weakened with injuries, benumbed and battered by
the tempest, forsook their hold-fasts, and, tumbling on the rocks
below, perished beneath the feet of their miserable companions. Their
dying groans and exclamations for pity, only tended to awaken more
painful apprehensions, and increase the terror of the survivors.
At length after three hours, which appeared so many ages, day broke,
but instead of bringing relief to the sufferers, it only served to
disclose the horrors of their situation. They now found, that had the
country been alarmed by the guns of distress which they had continued
to fire for many hours before the ship struck, but which were not
heard, owing to the violence of the storm, they could neither be
observed by the people from above, nor could any boat live below. They
were completely overhung by the cliff, so that no ropes let down could
reach them; nor did any part of the wreck remain as a guide to their
retreat.
The only prospect of saving themselves, was to creep along the side of
the cavern to its outward extremity, and on a ledge scarcely as broad
as a man's hand, to turn the corner, and endeavor to clamber up the
precipice, almost perpendicular, and nearly 200 feet high from the
bottom.--And in this desperate effort some did succeed, while others,
trembling with fear, and exhausted by the preceding conflict, lost
their footing and perished in the attempt.
The first who gained the top, were the cook and James Thompson, a
quarter-master; the moment they reached it, they hastened to the
nearest house and made known the condition of their comrades. This was
Eastington, the habitation of Mr. Garland, steward to the proprietors
of the Purbeck quarries. He immediately collected the workmen, and
procuring ropes with all possible despatch, made the most humane and
zealous exertions for the relief of the surviving people.
Mr. Meriton made a similar attempt to that of the two others, and
almost reached the edge of the precipice. A soldier who preceded him
had his feet on a small projecting rock or stone on which also Meriton
had fastened his hands to aid his progress. At this critical moment
the quarrymen arrived, and seeing a man so nearly within their reach,
they dropped a rope to him, of which he immediately laid hold; and in
a vigorous effort to avail himself of this advantage, loosened the
stone on which he stood, and which supported Mr. Meriton. It giving
way, Mr. Meriton must have been precipitated to the bottom, had not a
rope at that instant providentially been lowered to him, which he
seized, when absolutely in the act of falling, and was safely drawn to
the summit.
But the fate of Mr. Brimer was peculiarly severe. Only nine days
before the ship sailed, he had been married to a beautiful young lady,
the daughter of Captain Norman of the royal navy, in which service he
was a lieutenant, and now on a visit to an uncle at Madras; after
getting ashore with Mr. Rogers and up the side of the cavern, he
remained until morning, when he crawled out. A rope being thrown to
him, he was either so benumbed with cold as to fasten it insecurely
about his body, or from some other cause or agitation, to neglect
doing it completely; at the moment when about to be rescued from his
perilous stand, he fell and was dashed to pieces in the presence of
his companions.
More assistance was obtained as the day advanced; and as the efforts
of the survivors permitted, they crawled to the extremities of the
cavern and presented themselves to their preservers above, who stood
prepared to assist them. The means of doing so, was by two men boldly
approaching the very brink of the precipice, a rope being tied round
them and fastened to a strong iron bar fixed in the ground; behind
them were two more, the like number further back and so on. A strong
rope also properly secured, passed round them, by which they might
hold, and preserve themselves from falling. They then let down a rope
with a noose ready made, below to the cavern, and the wind blowing
hard, it was in some instances forced under the projecting rock,
sufficiently for the sufferers to reach it, without creeping out.
Whoever caught it, put the noose round his body, and was drawn up. The
distance from the top of the rock to the cavern, was at least an
hundred feet, and the rock projected about eight; ten feet formed a
declivity to the edge, and the rest was perpendicular.
Many, however, in attempting to secure themselves, shared the fate of
Mr. Brimer, and, unable, from weakness or perturbation, to benefit by
the assistance offered from above, they were at last precipitated from
the cliff, and were either dashed to pieces on the rocks below, or
perished in the waves.--Among those unhappy sufferers was one who
being washed off the rock, or falling into the sea, was carried out by
the return of the waves beyond the breakers, within which his utmost
efforts could never again bring him, but he was always further
withdrawn by the sea. He swam remarkably well, and continued to
struggle in sight of his companions, until his strength being
exhausted, he sunk to rise no more.
It was late in the day before all the survivors gained the land; one
indeed a soldier, remained in this precarious station until the
morning of Saturday the 7th of January; exposed to the utmost danger
and distress. When the officers, seamen and soldiers, were mustered
at the house of Mr. Garland, they were found to amount to
seventy-four; and these were the only persons saved out of rather more
than two hundred and forty that were on board when the ship sailed
through the Downs, including the passengers. It was supposed that
above fifty of the remainder reached the rocks, but were then washed
off or fell from the cliffs; and that fifty, or more, sunk with the
captain and the ladies in the round-house, when the after-part went to
pieces. An accurate account of the whole numbers in the ship could
never be obtained, as the last returns dispatched from her did not
arrive.
The whole who reached the summit of the rock survived, excepting two
or three who were supposed to have expired while drawing up, and a
black who died soon afterwards; though many were severely bruised.
Mr. Meriton and Mr. Rogers having been supplied with the necessary
means of making their journey by Mr. Garland, set off for London to
carry the tidings of this disaster to the India House, where they
arrived at noon, on Sunday the 8th. On the way they acquainted the
magistrates of the towns through which they passed, that a number of
shipwrecked seamen would soon be on the road to the metropolis. This
they did to avert any suspicions of their travelling for some other
intent. It is truly deserving of communication, that the master of the
Crown-Inn at Blandford, Dorsetshire, not only sent for all the
distressed seamen to his house, where he liberally refreshed them, but
presented each with half a crown on his departure.
By this unfortunate shipwreck, all the passengers perished. The ladies
were peculiarly endowed with beauty and accomplishments. The captain
was a man of distinguished worth; humane and generous. (He left,
besides those two daughters who suffered along with him, six other
children and a widow to deplore his loss.) Most of the officers also
perished; one of them, Mr. Thomas Jeane, a midshipman, who was under
the immediate care of Captain Pierce, after gaining the rock was swept
off by the waves. Swimming well he again reached it; but unable to
support the weakness which assailed him, and the beating of the storm,
he yielded his hold and perished in the sea.
AN ACCOUNT OF FOUR RUSSIAN SAILORS,
ABANDONED ON THE ISLAND OF EAST SPITZBERGEN.
In the year 1743, a merchant of Mesen, in Russia, fitted out a vessel
for the Greenland whale-fishery. She carried fourteen men, and was
destined for Spitzbergen. For eight successive days after their
sailing the wind was fair, but on the ninth it changed; so that
instead of getting to the coast of Spitzbergen, the usual rendezvous
of the Dutch ships, they were driven eastward, and after some days
elapsed they found themselves near an island, called by the Russians
Little Broun. Approaching within three versts, or two English miles of
this island, the vessel was suddenly surrounded by ice and the crew
were reduced to an extremely dangerous situation.
In this alarming state, a council was held when the mate, Alexis
Himkof, informed his comrades that some of the people of Mesen
formerly intended wintering on this island, and for that purpose had
carried timber hither, fit for building a hut, and actually erected
one at some distance from the shore.
The whole crew, therefore, concluded to winter there, if the hut, as
they hoped, still existed, because they were exposed to imminent
danger by remaining in the ship, and they would infallibly perish if
they did so. Four of the crew were on that account, dispatched in
search of it, or any other assistance they might meet with.
The names of these four were, Alexis Himkof, Iwan Himkof, Stephen
Scharapof and Feoder Weregin. Two miles of ice intervened between them
and the shore, which being loose and driven together by the wind,
rendered their approach difficult and dangerous. Providing themselves
with a musket, a powder-horn containing twelve charges of powder, with
as many balls, an axe, a kettle, about twenty pounds of flour, a
knife, a tinder-box, some tobacco and each his wooden pipe, they soon
arrived on the island.
Their first employment was exploring the country, when they discovered
the hut alluded to, about a mile and a half from the shore. It was
thirty-six feet long, eighteen broad and eighteen high; and consisted
of two chambers. Rejoicing greatly at their success, they passed the
night in it; though having been built a considerable time, it had
suffered much from the weather.
Next morning the four men hastened to the shore, impatient to
communicate their good fortune to their comrades; likewise designing
to get such stores, ammunition and necessaries from the vessel, as to
enable them to winter on the island. But the reader may conceive their
sorrow and astonishment, when on reaching the place where they had
landed nothing was to be seen but an open sea, instead of the ice
which only the day preceding had covered it. Doubtless a violent
storm, which arose during the night, had operated the change. It was
not known, however, whether the vessel had been beat to pieces by the
ice, or whether she had been carried by the current to the ocean; not
an uncommon event in Greenland. Whatever accident befel her, certain
it is they saw her no more; whence it is probable that she sunk, and
that all on board perished.
This unfortunate occurrence deprived them of the hope of ever being
able to quit the island, and full of horror and despair, they returned
to the hut. But their first attention was directed to the means of
providing subsistence, and repairing their habitation. The twelve
charges of powder procured them as many rein-deer, for the island,
fortunately for them abounded with these animals.
Though there were many crevices in the building, the wood of the hut
was still sound and unimpaired, therefore the deficiency was supplied
and done the more easily, because the lower class of Russians are
expert carpenters. Here they had plenty of moss to assist them.
The intense cold of the climate prevents the growth of vegetables, and
no species of tree or shrub is found on the islands of Spitzbergen.
The Russians, however, collected a quantity of wood on the shore,
which at first consisted of the wrecks of vessels, and afterwards of
whole trees with their roots, the produce of some more hospitable
climate, though unknown. Fortunately they found several bits of old
iron, some nails, five or six inches long, and an iron hook, on a few
wooden boards washed in by the sea. They likewise found the root of a
fir tree, bent and nearly fashioned into the shape of a bow.
By the help of a knife, a bow was soon formed but wanting a string and
arrows. Unable at present to procure either, they resolved to make
two lances to defend themselves against the white bears. The iron hook
was therefore fashioned into a hammer, by widening a hole which it
happened to have about the middle, with one of the largest nails. A
large pebble served for an anvil, and a couple of rein-deer horns
served for the tongs.
By means of such tools, two spear heads were made, which were tied
fast with thongs to sticks about the thickness of a man's arm. Thus
equipped, the Russians ventured to attack a white bear, and, after a
most dangerous encounter, succeeded in killing it. This was a new
supply of provisions; they relished the flesh exceedingly, and easily
divided the tendons into filaments, which, besides other uses, served
for strings to their bow.
[Illustration]
The Russians, in the next place, proceeded to forge some bits of iron
into smaller pieces, resembling the head of spears; and these were
fitted to arrows, by fastening them to fir rods.
They had thus a complete bow and arrows, and were more easily enabled
to obtain food.
With these, during their abode on the island, they killed no less than
two hundred and fifty rein-deer, and a great number of blue and white
foxes. They fed on the flesh of the animals and used their skins for
clothing. They killed only ten white bears during their residence, and
that at the utmost hazard, for these creatures are amazingly strong,
and defended themselves with surprising vigour and fury. The first was
attacked intentionally; the other nine were killed in self-defence,
for the animals even ventured to enter the outer room of the hut to
devour them. Some, less ferocious than others, were repulsed on the
first attempt, but a repetition of their attacks exposed the sailors
to the continual apprehension of being destroyed.
As they could not afford wood for a constant fire, they dried a
portion of their provision in the open air, and afterwards hung it up
in the hut, which was always full of smoke. Prepared in this way, they
used it for bread, because they were under the necessity of eating
their other flesh half raw.
Unfortunately, one of the Russians was attacked by the scurvy. Iwan
Himkof, who had wintered several times on the coast of West
Spitzbergen, advised his companions to swallow raw and frozen meat in
small pieces; to drink the blood of the rein-deer, as it flowed warm
from the veins of the animal, and to eat scurvy-grass, although it was
not very abundant. Those who followed his injunctions found an
effectual antidote, but Feoder Weregin, being naturally of an indolent
disposition, averse to drinking the rein-deer blood, and, unwilling to
leave the hut when he could possibly avoid it, was soon seized with
the scurvy. Under this afflicting distemper he passed nearly six
years, enduring the greatest sufferings. At length he became so weak
that he could not sit erect, nor even raise his hand to his mouth, so
that his humane companions were obliged to attend on, and feed him
like a new born infant, until the hour of his death.
In the course of their excursions through the island, the seamen had
met with a slimy loam, or kind of clay, of which they contrived to
make a lamp, and proposed to keep it constantly burning with the fat
of the animals they should kill.--Thus they filled it with rein-deer's
fat, and stuck a bit of twisted linen for a wick. But, to their
mortification, always as the fat melted, it not only was absorbed by
the clay, but fairly run through it on all sides. On this account they
formed another lamp, which they dried thoroughly in the air, and
heated red hot. It was next quenched in their kettle, wherein they had
boiled a quantity of flour down to the consistence of thin starch.
When filled with melted fat, they found to their great joy that it did
not leak. Encouraged by this attempt, they made another, that, at all
events, they might not be destitute of light, and saved the remainder
of their flour for similar purposes. Oakum thrown ashore, as also
cordage found among the wrecks of vessels, served for wicks; and when
these resources failed, they converted their shirts and drawers to the
same purpose. By such means they kept a lamp burning from soon after
their arrival on the island, until the day of their embarkation for
their native country.
Clothes, in so rigorous a climate, next became an object of necessity.
The uses to which they had applied what they had brought with them
exposed them still more to its severity. The skins of rein-deer and
foxes had hitherto served for bedding. It was essential to devise some
method of tanning them, the better to withstand the weather. This was
accomplished, in a certain degree, by soaking the skins in water until
the hair could be rubbed off, and then putting rein-deer fat upon
them. The leather, by such a process, became soft and pliant. The want
of awls and needles was supplied by bits of iron occasionally
collected; of them they made a kind of wire, which, being heated red
hot, was pierced with a knife, ground to a sharp point, which formed
the eye of a needle.--The sinews of bears and rein-deer, split into
threads, served for sewing the pieces of leather together, which
enabled the Russians to procure jackets and trowsers for summer dress,
and a long fur gown with a hood for their winter apparel.
The wants of these unfortunate persons being thus provided for, the
only reflections disturbing them were regret for those left behind at
home, or the apprehensions of some one of them surviving all his
companions, and then either famishing for want of food, or becoming a
prey to wild beasts. The mate, Alexis Himkof, had a wife and three
children, who were constantly in his mind, and he was unhappy from the
dread of never seeing them more.
Excepting white bears, foxes and rein-deer, with which the island
abounds, no other animals inhabit it. A few birds are seen in summer,
such as geese, ducks and other water-fowl. Whales seldom approach the
shore; but there are great numbers of seals; other fish are scarce,
and indeed their being in plenty would little avail the Russians, who
were unprovided with the means of taking them. Sometimes they found
the teeth and jaws of seals on the shore, but never an entire carcase;
for when these animals die on land, the white bears immediately eat
them. The common food of this ferocious creature, however, is the
flesh of dead whales, which are frequently seen floating about in the
polar regions, and are sometimes cast on shore. When this provision
fails, they fall upon seals, devouring them and other animals sleeping
on the beach.
The island had many mountains and steep rocks of stupendous height,
perpetually covered with snow and ice; not a tree nor even the poorest
shrub was to be met with; neither is there any vegetable but
scurvy-grass, although plenty of moss grows in every part. The
Russians found no river; however, there were many small rivulets
rising among the rocks and mountains, which afforded a quantity of
water.
They saw the sun moving for months together round the horizon during
summer, and in winter they were an equal length of time in total
darkness; but the Aurora Borealis, which was then frequent,
contributed to lessen the gloominess of so long a night. Thick cloudy
weather, great quantities of snow, and almost incessant rain at
certain seasons, often obscured the stars. The snow totally covered
the hut in winter, and left them no way of getting out of it,
excepting by a hole which they had made in the roof of one of the
chambers.
When the unfortunate mariners had passed nearly six years in this
dismal abode, Feoder Weregin, who had all along been in a languid
state, died, after suffering the most excruciating pains. Though his
companions were thus freed of the trouble of attending on him, and the
grief of witnessing his misery, they were deeply affected by his
death. They saw their number lessened, and each wished to be the next
to follow him. Having died in winter, a grave as deep as possible was
dug in the snow to receive his corpse, and the survivors then covered
it over to the best of their power, to prevent the white bears from
getting at it.
While the melancholy reflections excited by Weregin's death were still
fresh in the minds of his comrades, and while each expected to pay the
like duties to the companions of his misfortunes that they had done to
him, or to be himself the first to receive them, a Russian vessel
unexpectedly came in view on the 15th of August 1749.
This vessel belonged to a trader who had come to Archangel, and
intended to winter in Nova Zembla; but fortunately it was proposed to
him to winter at West Spitzbergen, to which, after many objections, he
assented. Contrary winds on the passage prevented the ship from
reaching the place of her destination, and drove her towards East
Spitzbergen, directly opposite to the residence of the mariners. As
soon as they perceived her, they hastened to light fires on the
nearest hills, and then ran to the beach waving a flag made of a
rein-deer's skin fastened to a pole. The people on board observing
these signals, concluded there were men ashore imploring their
assistance, and therefore came to an anchor near the island.
To describe the joy of the unfortunate mariners at seeing the moment
of their deliverance so near, is impossible.--They soon agreed with
the master of the vessel to take them and all their riches on board,
for which they should work during the voyage, and pay him eighty
rubles on arriving in Russia. Therefore they embarked, carrying with
them two thousand weight of rein-deer fat, many hides of the same
animals, the skins of the blue and white foxes and bears they had
killed. Neither did they neglect to carry away their spears, their
knife and axe, which were almost worn out, or their awls and needles,
which were carefully preserved in a box, very ingeniously made of
bone.
After spending six years and three months in this rueful solitude,
they arrived safe at Archangel on the 25th of September, 1749. But the
moment of landing was nearly fatal to the affectionate wife of Alexis
Himkof, who happened to be present when the vessel came into port.
Immediately recognizing her husband, she ran with such eagerness to
embrace him, that she slipped into the water, and very narrowly
escaped being drowned.
All the three survivors were strong and healthy; having lived so long
without bread, they could not be reconciled to the use of it; neither
could they bear spirituous liquors, and drank nothing but water.
As they were vassals of Count Schuwalow, who then had a grant of the
whale fishery, M. Le Roy requested of him that they might be sent from
Archangel to St. Petersburgh, where he could satisfy himself
respecting their adventures.--Accordingly two of them arrived, Alexis
Himkof, aged about fifty and Iwan Himkof about thirty. They brought
some curious specimens of their workmanship, so neatly executed, that
it was doubtful with what tools it could have been done. From their
account, both to M. Klingstadt, auditor of the Admiralty at Archangel,
and what they now communicated, M. Le Roy composed the preceding
narrative.
For centuries past Spitzbergen has been greatly resorted to on account
of the profitable whale-fishery of the surrounding seas, and several
shipwrecks, as well as incidents similar to the preceding, have
occurred there, and in the vicinity.--Spitzbergen is a bleak and
barren country, and received its name from the lofty pointed mountains
by which it is covered; perpetual snow prevails, few plants spring
from the soil, and it is destitute of wood. But to compensate in some
measure for the scanty productions of nature by land, its seas,
abundantly stored with fish, can afford a copious supply both of food
and clothing to mankind.
LOSS OF THE AMPHITRITE CONVICT SHIP.
The following particulars of the loss of this vessel are copied from a
letter dated Boulogne-sur-mer, Sept. 1, 1833.
The shocking event which is announced by the title to this letter,
has, I assure you, filled the town with dismay, and must lead to a
most narrow and rigid investigation. I cannot attempt to describe the
afflictions not only of the English, but the French, at this most
distressing event, and I only express the general opinion when I say
that the British public demands that an inquiry be instituted into the
conduct of all parties concerned in this deplorable affair.
The Amphitrite convict ship sailed for New South Wales from Woolwich
on the 25th of August. Capt. Hunter was the commander; Mr. Forrester
the surgeon; and there were 108 female convicts, 12 children and a
crew of 16 persons. The captain was part owner of the vessel. When the
ship arrived off Dungeness, the gale of the 29th began. On Friday
morning the captain hove the ship to, the gale being too heavy to
sail. The vessel was about three miles to the east from Boulogne
harbor on Saturday at noon, when they made land.--The captain set the
topsail and main-foresail in hopes of keeping her off shore.
From three o'clock she was in sight of Boulogne, and certainly the sea
was most heavy and the wind extremely strong; but no pilot boat went
out to her, and no life-boats or other assistance were dispatched. I
observed her from three o'clock till about half past four in the
afternoon, when she came round into Boulogne harbor and struck on the
sands. By four o'clock it was known that it was a British ship, but
some said it was a brig; others said it was a merchant vessel, though
all said it was English.
It appears from the statement of three men who have been saved out of
the crew--all the rest having perished, that the captain ordered the
anchor to be let go, in hopes of swinging round with the tide.
In a few minutes after the vessel had gone aground, multitudes rushed
to the beach, and a brave French sailor, named Pierre Henin, who has
already received the thanks of the Humane Society of London, addressed
himself to the captain of the port, and said that he was resolved to
go alone, and to reach the vessel, in order to tell the captain that
he had not a moment to lose, but must, as it was low water, send all
his crew and passengers on shore.
You will recollect that up to the time of her running aground no
measure was adopted, and the captain was not warned from shore of her
danger.
As soon as she had struck, however, a pilot-boat, commanded by
Francois Heuret, who has on many occasions shown much courage and
talent, was dispatched, and by a little after five came under her
bows. The captain of the vessel refused to avail himself of the
assistance of Heuret and his brave companions, and when a portion of
the crew proposed going on shore the captain prevented them. Two of
the men saved, state that they knew the boat was under the bows, but
that the rest were below making up their bundles. The crew could then
have got on shore, and all the unfortunate women and children.
When the French boat had gone, the surgeon sent for Owen, one of the
crew, and ordered him to get out the long boat. This was about half
past five. The surgeon discussed the matter with his wife and with the
captain. They were afraid of allowing the prisoners to go on shore.
The wife of the surgeon is said to have proposed to leave the convicts
there, and to go on shore without them.
In consequence of this discussion, no long boat was sent out. Three of
the convict women told Owen, that they heard the surgeon persuaded the
captain not to accept the assistance of the French boat, on account of
the prisoners who were on board.
Let us now return to Pierre Henin. The French pilot-boat had been
refused by the surgeon and captain--the long-boat had been put out,
through a discussion as to saving the convicts--and it was now nearly
six o'clock. At that time Henin went to the beach, stripped himself,
took a line, swam naked for about three quarters of an hour or an
hour, and arrived at the vessel at a little after seven. On reaching
the right side of the vessel, he hailed the crew, and said, "Give me a
line to conduct you on land, or you are lost, as the sea is coming
in." He spoke English plain enough to be heard. He touched the vessel
and told them to speak to the captain. They threw (that is, some of
the crew, but not the surgeon or captain) two lines, one from the
stern and one from the bow. The one from the stern he could not
seize--the one from the bow he did. He then went towards the shore,
but the rope was stopped. This was, it is believed, the act of the
surgeon and captain. He (Henin) then swam back, and told them to give
him more rope to get on shore. The captain and surgeon would not. They
then tried to haul him in, but his strength failed and he got on
shore.
You perceive, then, that up to this moment also the same obstacle
existed in the minds of the captain and surgeon.--They did not dare,
without authority, to land the convicts, and rather than leave them on
board, or land them without such authority, they perished with them.
The female convicts, who were battened down under the hatches, on the
vessel's running aground, broke away the half deck hatch, and frantic,
rushed on deck. Of course they entreated the captain and surgeon to
let them go on shore in the long-boat, but they were not listened to,
as the captain and surgeon did not feel authorized to liberate
prisoners committed to their care.
At seven o'clock the flood tide began. The crew seeing that there were
no hopes, clung to the rigging. The poor 108 women and 12 children
remained on deck, uttering the most piteous cries. The vessel was
about three quarters of a mile English from the shore, and no more.
Owen, one of the three men saved, thinks that the women remained on
deck in this state about an hour and a half. Owen and four others were
on the spars, and thinks they remained there three quarters of an
hour, but, seeing no hope of being saved, he took to swimming, and was
brought in a state of insensibility to the hotel. Towsey, another of
the men saved, was on a plank with the captain. Towsey asked who he
was? He said "I am the captain," but the next moment he was gone.
Rice, the third man, floated ashore on a ladder. He was in the aft
when the other men took to the raft. When the French pilot-boat rowed
away, after being rejected by the captain, he (Rice) saw a man waving
his hat on the beach, and remarked to the captain that a gentleman was
waving to them to come on shore. The captain turned away and made no
answer.--At that moment the women all disappeared, the ship broke in
two.
These are the facts of this awful case. The French Marine Humane
Society immediately placed hundreds of men on the beach; and the
office, or lodging, being close to the shore, as soon as the corpses
were picked up they were brought to the rooms, where I assisted many
of my countrymen in endeavoring to restore them to life. Our efforts
were fruitless except in the cases of the three men, Owen, Rice and
Towsey. I never saw so many fine and beautiful bodies in my life. Some
of the women were the most perfectly made; and French and English wept
together at such a horrible loss of life in sight of--ay, and even
close to, the port and town.--Body after body has been brought in.
More than 60 have been found; they will be buried to-morrow. But alas!
after all our efforts, only three lives have been saved out of 136.
THE MUTINEERS, A TALE OF THE SEA.
There is scarce any one, we apprehend, who is in any considerable
degree conversant with the shifting scenes of human existence, who
does not know that many of the plain narratives of common life possess
an indescribable charm. These unvarnished details of human weal and
human wo, coming right from the mint of nature, decline the
superfluous embellishments of art, and, in the absence of all borrowed
lustre, clearly demonstrate that they are "adorned the most when
unadorned." They bear a most diametrical contrast to those figments of
diseased fancy, that nauseating romance about virgins betrothed and
lady love, which in so many instances elbow decency and common sense
from the pages of our periodical literature as "unwelcome guests."
It has frequently been said that sailors, above every other class of
men, have irrepressible hankerings after the wild and wonderful.
Certain it is, that he who will sit on a ship's forecastle of a bright
moonlight evening, will hear of "hair-breadth escapes," and perilous
adventures no less chivalrous and incredible than those which
Cervantes and the biographer of Baron Munchausen have attributed to
their respective heroes. Although the following incidents may excite
no very thrilling interest, they have at least the merit of truth. The
actors in this short drama are still on the stage, ready to testify to
this narrative of facts.
On the morning of the 14th of April, 1828, the ship Gold Hunter glided
majestically out of the Liverpool docks, with fair wind and tide. The
Mersey, from Liverpool to Black Rock, a distance of about three miles,
was literally covered with vessels of every character and nation,
which had taken advantage of the fair wind to clear the harbor. Here
might be seen the little French lugger, carrying back to Bordeaux what
its fruit and brandy had bought, as frisky in its motions as the
nervous monsieur who commanded it. At a little distance, the
square-shouldered Antwerper, sitting on the elevated poop of his
galliot, was enjoying, with his crew, a glorious smoke. You could
almost see them (and that, too, without very keen optics) put care
into their tobacco-pipes, anxiety curled in fume over their heads. A
not unfrequent sight was the star-spangled banner floating in beauty
over the bosom of the wave. The serenity of the atmosphere, the
ever-changing brilliancy of the scene, the tout ensemble, were well
calculated to excite the most pleasurable emotions. Every thing seemed
to give the most flattering assurances of a voyage of unruffled
peacefulness.
This large squadron continued comparatively unbroken until it reached
Holyhead, where such vessels as were bound for Scotland, or the north
of Ireland, bore away from those which were bound down the channel.
The Gold Hunter, whose destination was a port in the United States,
was, of course, in company with the latter class. Those on board of
her very naturally felt great gratification in perceiving that she was
not only the most splendid and graceful ship, but the swiftest sailor
in sight.
Before we proceed farther, however, we must in some measure acquaint
the reader with the inmates of the Gold Hunter. Notwithstanding she
was one of those floating palaces yclept "Liverpool packets," and the
captain a finished gentleman and skilful navigator, there were, on
this trip, but two cabin passengers,--an Irish gentleman (who had a
short time before sold his lieutenancy in the British army) and his
sister. The former had been engaged in some of England's fiercest
battles, and won some of her brightest laurels. The reason which
induced him to dispose of his commission, and forsake the hardships
and honors of military life, was a desire to visit some near
relations, who, at an early period, had emigrated to this country, and
who were now enjoying respectability and a competence. It was for this
object that Mr. Kelly and his sister had taken passage in the Gold
Hunter, at the time of which we are now speaking. It need hardly be
said, that they felt towards each other all that deep-toned and
romantic affection which in so characteristic a manner pervades Irish
relationships.
The captain, who was a man of fine feeling and cultivated intellect,
spent most of his leisure moments in their company; and many an
evening, when the moon-beams played forth brightly on the rippling
water, and the bellying of the canvass seemed to assure them they were
hastening to the tender embraces of those they loved, would they sit
together on the quarter-deck, while Miss Kelly enhanced the brilliancy
of the scene by singing some of those wild, touching melodies which
she had learned to warble on her own native hills. Thus, "time trod on
flowers," and the incidental privations and inconveniences of a sea
voyage were greatly mitigated.
Nothing worthy of special notice occurred until about the 25th of
April, when Mr. Kelly, who was walking on the weather side of the main
deck, accidentally overheard the following conversation, between three
or four of the crew, engaged in caulking the seams just under the lee
of the long-boat.
"I tell you, once for all, a cargo of silks and broadcloths aint
a-going to do us any good without the ready cash."
"Ready cash! why, man, how many times must I tell you that there is
specie on board? the old man has two or three thousand dollars, and
Kelly has a bag of sovereigns, or my eyes never saw salt water."--"And
the girl," said a third voice, which Mr. Kelly knew to be the
steward's--"and the girl did not jingle her bag for nothing the other
day, when she walked by me: something there, or my head 's a ball of
spun-yarn."
Kelly was transfixed with utter horror and amazement; but fearful lest
some one might perceive him, he crouched under the long-boat, which
afforded him a partial concealment. In this situation, he listened
with breathless anxiety, to the development of their plans, so
murderous that his very blood ran cold in his veins.
When the villains came to the blackest, most awful, portions of their
scheme, their voices were instinctively hushed into almost a whisper;
so that it was only the general outline that Kelly could gather. He
found that it was their intention to wait until some dark, dismal
night, when they would rush on the captain, himself and sister, and
murder them in their beds, rifle them of their money, and take
possession of the ship. It was their design to spare the life of the
mate, whose services they needed as a navigator. After having done all
this, they were to steer directly for the coast of Africa, where they
hoped to dispose of the cargo to the negroes. If successful, they
expected to carry thence to the West Indies a load of slaves--if not,
to abandon the ship entirely, taking with them the specie, and
whatever light articles of value they conveniently could. They
anticipated no difficulty in introducing themselves into some of the
settlements on the coast as shipwrecked mariners; and, as vessels
frequently left the settlements for the United States, they supposed
they might procure a passage without exciting any suspicion.
Kelly was a man of such imperturbable self-command, that he found no
difficulty in repressing every symptom which could indicate his
knowledge of the diabolical conspiracy. It was no part of his
intention, however, to conceal any thing from Capt. Newton; to the
captain, therefore, he made an unreserved disclosure of all that had
come to his knowledge. At first they were at a loss what measures to
take: one thing they thought of the greatest importance, which was to
keep Miss Kelly in entire ignorance of what was transpiring on board.
Some uncurbed outbreaking of alarm would be almost certain, such was
the excitability of her temperament. This, in their present situation,
might be attended with the most disastrous consequences.
The captain determined to eye with particular vigilance the motions of
Harmon, who, from the part he took in the conversation alluded to
above, appeared to be the ring-leader. Here, in order that the reader
may fully understand the narrative, it becomes necessary for us to
make a very short digression.
The government of a ship is, in the strictest sense of the term,
monarchical, the captain holding undivided and absolute authority. The
relation he sustains to the sailor resembles very much that of the
master to the slave. Consequently, in order that this relation be not
severed by the sailor, even the faintest color of insubordination must
be promptly quelled. If any master of a ship suffer a sailor to make
an impertinent reply with impunity, he immediately finds his authority
prostrate and trampled upon, and his most positive commands
pertinaciously disregarded.
The day after that on which Mr. Kelly had communicated the startling
intelligence to the captain, was somewhat squally. The latter was
standing on the weather side of the quarter-deck, giving directions to
the man at the helm (who happened to be Harmon) respecting the
steering of the ship:
"Luff! luff! keep her full and by! Mind your weather helm, or she'll
be all in the wind. Down with it, or she'll be off! I tell you, if you
don't steer the ship better, I'll send you from the helm. You don't
keep her within three points of her course either way!"
All this was said, of course, in a pretty authoritative tone, and
Harmon impudently replied, "I can steer as well as you, or any other
man in the ship."
Capt. Newton's philosophy was completely dashed by this daring answer,
and he immediately gave Harmon a blow with his fist, which Harmon as
promptly returned sprawling the captain on the deck.
Harmon then deserted the helm, leaving the ship to the mercy of the
tempest, and hurried forward to the forecastle, hoping there to
intrench himself so firmly as to resist all attacks from without.
The captain, as soon as he could recover from his amazement, went to
the cabin door and cried out,
"Mr. Kelly, our lives are in danger--will you assist me, my dear sir,
to secure one of my men, that cut-throat Harmon. We must blow up this
scheme in the outset, or we are gone."
Kelly had too little coolness in his constitution to stop to discuss
the matter, when he knew that the life of a dear sister might depend
on the issue. He saw, in a moment, that the conspirators would take
courage, unless they were immediately overpowered. He therefore
instantly joined Capt. Newton, and they proceeded to the forecastle
together.
Threats and commands had not virtue enough to bring Harmon from his
hiding-place. Some more effectual expedient must be resorted to.
Accordingly, brimstone was introduced into the numerous crevices of
the forecastle, and the atmosphere rendered insufferable. Frantic with
suffocation, his eyes flashing with rage, he brandished savagely a
huge case-knife:--"You, Newton! and you Kelly! I swear that, if I am
obliged to leave this forecastle, I'll sheath this knife in your
breasts, you infernal tormentors!"
Like the chafed, wounded, maddened bull, which his pursuers have
surrounded, and which is drawing close about him his dying strength,
for one last furious charge, was Harmon, when Kelly, with most
provoking coolness, said, "Harmon, you shall leave that forecastle, or
die there."
It soon became evident that he was making preparations to leave: they
therefore planted themselves firmly near the gang way through which
alone he could possibly come out. Soon he bolted furiously through,
making, as he passed, a desperate plunge at Capt. Newton, with his
enormous case-knife. Had not Mr. Kelly, at this moment, by a dexterous
effort, struck Harmon's arm, one more immortal spirit would have been
disencumbered of this "coil of mortality." Instead of this, the
villain was disarmed, and his dangerous weapon danced about harmlessly
on the top of the waves. Harmon was now powerless; and they found no
difficulty in putting irons upon him. During the whole of this
contest, his associates did not dare to offer him the least
assistance: on the contrary, each stood silently apart, eyeing his
neighbor with fear and distrust.
When Mr. Kelly returned to the cabin, he found that his sister had
fainted away through terror. Volatile salts, and the assurance that
all her future fears would be entirely groundless, had the effect of
restoring her very speedily. * * *
On the morning of the 23d May, Charleston light-house was descried
from the mast-head. Not a remnant of apprehension lurked behind; every
pulse beat gladly; anticipated joys filled every bosom. It was not
long before the revenue cutter, from which floats the stripes and the
stars, was seen bounding over the billows towards the Gold Hunter. She
was soon along side, and, after an interchange of salutations between
the vessels, the commander of the revenue cutter boarded the ship.
After many inquiries, Capt. Newton requested the United States officer
to step into the cabin, where he laid open all the circumstances
connected with the abortive conspiracy.
"Capt. Morris," said he, "I shall be obliged to call on you for
assistance in bringing these men to punishment."
"Such as I can grant," replied Capt. M., "is at your service; but how
shall we proceed?"
"Put the men into irons, and then I consign them to your safe
keeping."
These intentions were announced on deck; and if ever consternation
and rueful dismay were depicted in human countenances it was in the
case of those who had entered into the conspiracy, but who, till now,
had supposed that all their plans were enveloped in midnight secrecy.
Manacles were put on them all without difficulty, and they soon found
themselves securely lodged on board an United States vessel.
At the fall term of the Supreme Court of South Carolina, four men were
arraigned on an indictment of "mutiny on the high seas," on board the
ship Gold Hunter. The evidence was so conclusive, that all the
ingenuity of the prisoner's council, twist itself as it would, could
effect nothing. The jury found a verdict of guilty, without leaving
their seats. Harmon was sentenced to the penitentiary five years; the
others four years each. Thus was a most dangerous indevotion
frustrated.
FATE OF SEVEN SAILORS,
WHO WERE LEFT ON THE ISLAND OF ST. MAURICE.
The Dutch who frequented the northern regions during the more
favorable season of the year, in pursuit of the whale fishery, became
desirous of ascertaining the state of different places while winter
prevailed. Various opinions were entertained concerning this subject,
and astronomers wished to have their sentiments regarding certain
natural phenomena, either realized or controverted. Besides, a more
important object was concealed under these ostensible reasons, namely,
whether the establishment of permanent colonies in the most remote
parts of Greenland was practicable. A proposal was therefore
promulgated through the Greenland fleet, for seven seamen to offer to
remain a winter in St. Maurice's Island, and also for other seven to
winter in Spitzbergen. We are not acquainted with the inducements
held forth; but it is probable that little hesitation ensued, for we
find a party prepared to winter at the different places specified,
nearly about the same period.
Seven of the stoutest and ablest men of the fleet having accordingly
agreed to be left behind, their comrades sailed from St. Maurice's
Isle on the 26th of August 1633.
The people, two days afterwards, shared half a pound of tobacco, to
which they restricted themselves as a weekly allowance. At this time
there was no night, and the heat of the sun so powerful through the
day, that they pulled off their shirts, and sported on the side of a
hill near their abode. Great abundance of sea-gulls frequented the
island, and the seamen made a constant practice of seeking for
vegetables growing there for salad.
Towards the end of September, the weather began to be tempestuous, and
in the earlier part of October, their huts were so much shaken by
violent storms of wind, that their nightly rest was interrupted; but
they did not resort to firing until the 9th of that month. About a
week subsequent, two whales were cast ashore, and the seamen
immediately endeavored to kill them with harpoons, lances, and
cutlasses, but the tide flowing enabled them to escape.
As winter advanced, bears became so numerous, that the people durst
scarce venture abroad from their huts towards night; but in the day
time some were occasionally killed, which they roasted. Several of
these animals were so strong, however, that they would run off after
being shot through. A great many gulls were also seen on the sea-side
which retired every night to the mountains, their usual place of
retreat.
The first of January 1634, was ushered in with dark and frosty
weather; the seamen, after wishing each other a happy new year, and
good success in their enterprize, went to prayers. Two bears
approached very near their huts, but the darkness of the day, and the
depth of the snow, rendered it impossible to take them; not long
afterwards the seamen were more successful, and, having shot one,
dragged it into a hut, where they skinned it. From the 1st of February
these animals became very shy, and were seldom seen.
In the month of March all the people were attacked by scurvy, owing to
the scarcity of fresh provisions, and their spirits sunk with the
progress of the disease; only two were in health on the 3d of April,
while the rest were extremely ill. Two pullets were at their request
killed for them, no more being left; and as their appetites were
pretty good, the others entertained hopes of their convalescence. The
whole seldom left their hut to examine the appearance of the sea, or
the surrounding country; but, on the 15th, they observed four whales
in a neighboring bay.
The clerk was now very ill, and died on the 16th, whereupon the
surviving mariners invoked Heaven to have mercy on his soul, and also
on themselves, for they suffered severely. No fresh provisions
whatever were left, and they daily grew worse, partly from want of
necessary articles, and partly from the excessive cold. Even when in
health they could scarce keep themselves in heat by exercise; and when
sick, and unable to stir from their huts, that remedy was at an end.
Disease made rapid progress among these unfortunate people, so that on
the 23d not more than one individual could give an account of the
rest, which is done in these words of his journal: "We are by this
time reduced to a deplorable state, none of my comrades being able to
help himself, much less another; the whole burden, therefore, lies on
my shoulders, and I shall perform my duty as well as I am able, so
long as it pleases God to give me strength. I am just now about to
assist our commander out of his cabin; he thinks it will relieve his
pain, for he is struggling with death. The night is dark, and wind
blowing from the south."
Meantime the Dutch, who repaired in the summer season to Greenland,
became impatient to learn the fate of the seven men left in the Isle
of St. Maurice. Some of the seamen got into a boat immediately on
their arrival, on the 4th of June 1634, and hastened towards the huts.
Yet, from none of the others having come to the sea-side to welcome
them, they presaged nothing good; and accordingly found that all the
unfortunate men had breathed their last. The first, as has been seen,
expired on the 16th of April 1634, and his comrades, having put his
body in a coffin, deposited it in one of the huts. The remainder were
conjectured to have died about the beginning of May, from a journal
kept by them, expressing that, on the 27th of April, they had killed
their dog for want of fresh provisions, and from its termination on
the last of this month.
Near one of the bodies stood some bread and cheese, on which the
mariner had perhaps subsisted immediately preceding his decease; a box
of ointment lay beside the cabin of another, with which he had rubbed
his teeth and joints, and his arm was still extended towards his
mouth. A prayer-book, which he had been reading, also lay near him.
Each of the men was found in his own cabin.
The Commodore of the Greenland fleet having got this melancholy
intelligence, ordered the six bodies to be put into coffins, and,
along with the seventh, deposited beneath the snow. Afterwards, when
the earth thawed, they were removed, and interred, on St. John's day,
under a general discharge of the cannon of the fleet.
SEAMEN WINTERING IN SPITZBERGEN.
On the 30th of August 1633, the Dutch fleet sailed from North-Bay, in
Spitzbergen, leaving seven men behind, who had agreed to winter there.
Immediately, on departure of the vessels, they began to collect a
sufficient quantity of provisions to serve their necessities until
their comrades should return in the subsequent year. Therefore, at
different times, they hunted rein-deer with success, and caught many
sea-fowl; and also occasionally got herbs, which proved very salutary.
Excursions both by sea and land were frequently made when the weather
would permit; and they endeavored to kill whales and narwhals in the
different bays on the east coast of Spitzbergen.
The extreme cold of the climate was announced by the disappearance of
all the feathered tribe on the third of October, and from that time it
gradually augmented. On the 13th their casks of beer were frozen three
inches thick, and very soon afterwards, though standing within eight
feet of the fire, they froze from top to bottom. The seamen had broke
the ice on the sea, and disposed a net for catching fish below it; but
the rigour of the weather constantly increasing, the ice formed a foot
thick at the surface in the space of two hours.
From the excessive cold, they remained almost constantly in bed, and,
notwithstanding they had both a grate and a stove, they were
sometimes obliged to rise and take violent exercise to keep themselves
in heat.
Beautiful phenomena appeared in the sky during winter, consisting of
the Aurora Borealis, of surprising splendour and magnitude, and other
meteors seeming to arise from the icy mountains.
On the third of March the mariners had an encounter with a monstrous
bear, in which one of them very nearly perished. The animal became
furious from its wounds; leaping against a seaman, about to pierce it
with his lance, it threw him down, and, but for the opportune
interposition of another, would have torn him to pieces.
At length, after suffering many hardships and privations the mariners
were gladdened with the sight of a boat rowing into the bay, on the
27th of May 1634, announcing the return of a Dutch Greenlandman, which
anchored there the same evening.
The Dutch, encouraged by the safety of this party, proposed that other
seven people, provided with all necessaries, should pass the following
winter in their place; and, accordingly, Andrew Johnson, Cornelius
Thysse, Jerome Carcoen, Tiebke Jellis, Nicholas Florison, Adrian
Johnson, and Fettje Otters, offered to remain.
The fleet, therefore, sailed for Holland on the 11th of September
1634, leaving these men behind. Numbers of whales were in sight of
Spitzbergen on the same day, which the people made an unsuccessful
attempt to catch.
Towards the end of November, scurvy beginning to appear among them,
they carefully sought for green herbs, but in vain; nor were they more
fortunate in the pursuit of bears and foxes for fresh provisions.
However, they drank some potions and took other antidotes against the
disease, and then set traps for foxes.
A bear being discovered on the 24th of November, three of the people
eagerly proceeded to attack it, for their necessities were daily
becoming greater. The animal, rising to receive them on its hind legs,
was shot through the body, whereupon it began to bleed and roar most
hideously, and fiercely bit a halbert. But, likely to be overpowered,
it took to flight, and was anxiously pursued by the people a long way,
carrying lanthorns, though unsuccessfully; and they were all much
dispirited from the disappointment of fresh provision, which they so
much required.
[Illustration: Appearance of the Aurora Borealis from the Island of
East Spitzbergen--_page 186_.]
On the 14th of January, Adrian Johnson died. The whole of the rest
were extremely ill. Fettje Otters died next day, and also Cornelius
Thysse on the 17th, a man in whom his comrades rested their chief hope
next to God.
Notwithstanding the weakness of the survivors, who could scarce
support themselves on their legs, they contrived to make three coffins
for the deceased, and put their bodies into them.
In the beginning of February they had the good fortune to catch a fox,
an incident which afforded them much satisfaction, but at that time
disease had gone too far to admit their deriving material benefit from
the flesh. Many bears, even six or ten together were seen; but the
people had not strength to manage their guns, nor, had it been
otherwise, were they able to pursue them. Now they were seized with
excruciating pains about the loins and belly, which were aggravated by
cold. One spit blood, and another was afflicted with a bloody flux;
yet Jerome Carcoen could still bring in fuel to keep up the fires.
The sun had disappeared on the 20th of October, nor was he seen again
until the 24th of February, when the mariners were so weak as to be
constantly confined to their cabins. Two days after, they ceased to be
able to write, at that time expressing themselves in a journal thus:
"Four of us who still survive, lie flat on the floor of our hut. We
think we could still eat, were there only one among us able to get
fuel, but none can move for pain; our time is spent in constant
prayer, that God, in his mercy, would deliver us from this misery; we
are ready whenever he pleases to call us. Assuredly we cannot long
survive without food or firing; we are unable to assist each other in
our mutual afflictions, and each must bear his own burden."
The seamen of the Dutch fleet arriving at Spitzbergen, in 1635,
hastened to inquire after the fate of their comrades; and having found
their hut all closed around as a protection against wild beasts, they
broke open the back door. A man then entering, ran up stairs, where he
discovered part of a dead dog on the floor, laid there to dry, and
quickly descending, trod on the carcass of another dog also dead.
Thence passing towards the front door, he stumbled in the dark over
several dead bodies, which, after the door was opened, were seen lying
together. Three were in coffins; Nicholas Florison and another, each
in a cabin; and the other two on some sails covering the floor, lying
with their knees drawn up to their chins. Therefore the whole of these
unfortunate people had perished.
Coffins were prepared for the four bodies wanting them, and all were
buried under the snow, until the ground became more penetrable, when
they were deposited in the earth beside each other, and stones laid on
their graves, to preserve them from the ravenous beasts of prey.
A MAN OVERBOARD.
Sailors are men of rough habits, but their feelings are not by any
means so coarse: if they possess little prudence or worldly
consideration, they are likewise very free from selfishness; generally
speaking, too, they are much attached to one another, and will make
great sacrifices to their messmates or shipmates when opportunities
occur.
I remember once, when cruising off Terceira in the Endymion, that a
man fell overboard and was drowned. After the usual confusion, and
long search in vain, the boats were hoisted up, and the hands called
to make sail. I was officer of the forecastle and on looking about to
see if all the men were at their station, missed one of the fore-top
men. Just at that moment I observed some one curled up, and apparently
hiding himself under the bow of the barge, between the boat and the
booms. 'Hillo!' I said, 'who are you? What are you doing there, you
skulker? Why are you not at your station?'
'I am not skulking,' said the poor fellow, the furrows in whose
bronzed and weatherbeaten cheek were running down with tears. The man
we had just lost had been his messmate and friend, he told me, for ten
years. I begged his pardon, in full sincerity, for having used such
harsh words to him at such a moment, and bid him go below to his birth
for the rest of the day--'Never mind, sir, never mind,' said the kind
hearted seaman, 'it can't be helped. You meant no harm, sir. I am as
well on deck as below. Bill's gone sir, but I must do my duty.' So
saying, he drew the sleeve of his jacket twice or thrice across his
eyes, and mustering his grief within his breast, walked to his station
as if nothing had happened.
In the same ship and nearly about the same time, the people were
bathing along side in a calm at sea. It is customary on such occasions
to spread a studding-sail on the water, by means of lines from the
fore and main yard arms, for the use of those who either cannot swim,
or who are not expert in this art, so very important to all seafaring
people. Half a dozen of the ship's boys were floundering about in the
sails, and sometimes even venturing beyond the leech rope. One of the
least of these urchins, but not the least courageous of their number,
when taunted by his more skilful companions with being afraid, struck
out boldly beyond the prescribed bounds. He had not gone much further
than his own length, however, along the surface of the fathomless sea,
when his heart failed him, poor little man; and along with his
confidence away also went his power of keeping his head above the
water. So down he sank rapidly, to the speechless horror of the other
boys, who of course, could lend the drowning child no help.
The captain of the forecastle, a tall, fine-looking, hard-a-weather
fellow, was standing on the shank of the sheet anchor with his arms
across, and his well varnished canvass hat drawn so much over his eyes
that it was difficult to tell whether he was awake or merely dozing in
the sun, as he leaned his back against the fore-topmast backstay. The
seaman, however, had been attentively watching the young party all the
time, and rather fearing that mischief might ensue from their
rashness, he had grunted out a warning to them from time to time, to
which they paid no sort of attention. At last he desisted, saying they
might drown themselves if they had a mind, for never a bit would he
help them; but no sooner did the sinking figure of the adventurous
little boy catch his eye, than, diver fashion, he joined the palms of
his hands over his head, inverted his position in one instant, and
urging himself into swifter motion by a smart push with his feet
against the anchor, shot head foremost into the water. The poor lad
sunk so rapidly that he was at least a couple of fathoms under the
surface before he was arrested by the grip of the sailor, who soon
rose again, bearing the bewildered boy in his hand, and calling to the
other youngsters to take better care of their companion, chucked him
right into the belly of the sail. The fore-sheet was hanging in the
calm, nearly into the water, and by it the dripping seaman scrambled
up again to his old birth on the anchor, shook himself like a great
Newfoundland dog, and then jumping on the deck, proceeded across the
forecastle to shift himself.
At the top of the ladder he was stopped by the marine officer, who had
witnessed the whole transaction, as he sat across the gangway
hammocks, watching the swimmers, and trying to get his own consent to
undergo the labor of undressing. Said the soldier to the sailor, "That
was very well done of you, my man, and right well deserves a glass of
grog. Say so to the gun-room steward as you pass; and tell him it is
my orders to fill you out a stiff nor-wester." The soldier's offer was
kindly meant, but rather clumsily timed, at least so thought Jack: for
though he inclined his head in acknowledgment of the attention, and
instinctively touched his hat when spoken to by an officer, he made no
reply till out of the marine's hearing, when he laughed, or rather
chuckled out to the people near him, "Does the good gentleman suppose
I'll take a glass of grog for saving a boy's life."
AN ESCAPE THROUGH THE CABIN-WINDOWS.
In the year 18--, said Capt. M----, I was bound, in a fine stout ship
of about four hundred tons burden, from the port of l'---- to
Liverpool. The ship had a valuable cargo on board and about ninety
thousand dollars in specie. I had been prevented, by other urgent
business, from giving much of my attention to the vessel while loading
and equipping for the voyage, but was very particular in my directions
to the chief mate, in whom I had great confidence, he having sailed
with me some years, to avoid entering, if possible, any but native
American seamen. When we were about to sail, he informed me that he
had not been able to comply with my directions entirely in this
particular; but had shipped two foreigners as seamen, one a native of
Guernsey, and the other a Frenchman from Brittany. I was pleased,
however, with the appearance of the crew generally, and particularly
with the foreigners. They were both stout and able-bodied men, and
were particularly alert and attentive to orders.
The passage commenced auspiciously and promised to be a speedy one, as
we took a fine steady westerly wind soon after we lost soundings. To
my great sorrow and uneasiness, I soon discovered in the foreigners a
change of conduct for the worse. They became insolent to the mates and
appeared to be frequently under the excitement of liquor, and had
evidently acquired an undue influence with the rest of the men. Their
intemperance soon became intolerable, and as it was evident that they
had brought liquor on board with them, I determined upon searching the
forecastle and depriving them of it. An order to this effect was given
to the mates, and they were directed to go about its execution mildly
and firmly, taking no arms with them as they seemed inclined to do,
but to give every chest, birth and locker in the forecastle a thorough
examination; and bring aft to the cabin any spirits they might find.
It was not without much anxiety that I sent them forward upon this
duty. I remained upon the quarter deck myself, ready to go to their
aid, should it be necessary. In a few moments, a loud and angry
dispute was succeeded by a sharp scuffle around the forecastle
companion-way. The steward, at my call, handed my loaded pistols from
the cabin, and with them I hastened forward. The Frenchman had
grappled the second mate, who was a mere lad, by the throat, thrown
him across the heel of the bowsprit, and was apparently determined to
strangle him to death. The chief mate was calling for assistance from
below, where he was struggling with the Guernsey man. The rest of the
crew were indifferent spectators but rather encouraging the foreigners
than otherwise. I presented a pistol at the head of the Frenchman, and
ordered him to release the second mate, which he instantly did. I then
ordered him into the fore top, and the others, who were near, into the
maintop, none to come down under pain of death, until ordered. The
steward had by this time brought another pair of pistols, with which I
armed the second mate, directing him to remain on deck; and went below
into the forecastle myself. I found that the chief mate had been
slightly wounded in two places by the knife of his antagonist, who,
however, ceased to resist as I made my appearance, and we immediately
secured him in irons. The search was now made, and a quantity of
liquor found and taken to the cabin. The rest of the men were then
called down from the tops, and the Frenchman was made the companion of
his coadjutor's confinement. I then expostulated, at some length, with
the others upon their improper and insubordinate conduct, and upon the
readiness with which they had suffered themselves to be drawn into
such courses by two rascally foreigners, and expressed hopes that I
should have no reason for further complaint during the rest of the
voyage. This remonstrance I thought had effect, as they appeared
contrite and promised amendment. They were then dismissed, and order
was restored.
The next day the foreigners strongly solicited pardon, with the most
solemn promises of future good conduct; and as the rest of the crew
joined in their request, I ordered that their irons should be taken
off. For several days the duties of the ship were performed to my
entire satisfaction; but I could discover in the countenances of the
foreigners, expressions of deep and rancorous animosity to the chief
mate, who was a prompt, energetic seaman, requiring from the sailors,
at all times, ready and implicit obedience to his orders.
A week perhaps had passed over in this way, when one night, in the mid
watch, all hands were called to shorten sail. Ordinarily upon
occasions of this kind, the duty was conducted by the mate, but I now
went upon deck myself and gave orders, sending him upon the
forecastle. The night was dark and squally; but the sea was not high,
and the ship was running off about nine knots, with the wind upon the
starboard quarter. The weather being very unpromising, the second reef
was taken in the fore and main topsails, the mizen handed and the fore
and mizen top gallant yards sent down. This done, one watch was
permitted to go below, and I prepared to betake myself to my birth
again, directing the mate, to whom I wished to give some orders,
should be sent to me. To my utter astonishment and consternation, word
was brought me, after a short time, that he was no where to be found.
I hastened upon deck, ordered all hands up again, and questioned every
man in the ship upon the subject; but they, with one accord, declared
that they had not seen the mate forward. Lanterns were then brought,
and every accessible part of the vessel was unavailingly searched. I
then, in the hearing of the whole crew, declared my belief that he
must have fallen overboard by accident, again dismissed one watch
below, and repaired to the cabin, in a state of mental agitation
impossible to be described. For notwithstanding the opinion which I
had expressed to the contrary, I could not but entertain strong
suspicions that the unfortunate man had met a violent death.
The second mate was a protegee of mine; and, as I have before
observed, was a very young man of not much experience as a seaman. I
therefore felt that, under critical circumstances, my main support had
fallen from me. It is needless to add, that a deep sense of
forlornness and insecurity was the result of these reflections.
My first step was to load and deposit in my state room all the fire
arms on board, amounting to several muskets and four pairs of pistols.
The steward was a faithful mulatto man, who had sailed with me several
voyages. To him I communicated my suspicions, and directed him to be
constantly on the alert: and should any further difficulty with the
crew occur, to repair immediately to my state room and arm himself.
His usual birth was in the steerage, but I further directed that he
should, on the following morning, clear out and occupy one in the
cabin near my own. The second mate occupied a small state room opening
into the passage which led from the steerage to the cabin. I called
him from the deck, gave him a pair of loaded pistols, with orders to
keep them in his birth; and, during his night watches on deck, never
to go forward of the mainmast, but to continue as constantly as
possible near the cabin companion-way, and call me upon the slightest
occasion. After this, I laid down in my bed, ordering that I should be
called at four o'clock, for the morning watch. Only a few minutes had
elapsed, when I heard three or four knocks under the counter of the
ship, which is that part of the stern immediately under the
cabin-windows. In a minute or two they were distinctly repeated. I
arose--opened the cabin-window and called. The mate answered!--I gave
him the end of a rope to assist him up, and never shall I forget the
flood of gratitude which my delighted soul poured forth to that Being
who had restored him to me uninjured. His story was soon told. He had
gone forward upon being ordered by me, after the calling of all hands
and had barely reached the forecastle, when he was seized by the two
foreigners, and before he could utter more than one cry, which was
drowned in the roaring of the winds and waves, was thrown over the
bow. He was a powerful man and an excellent swimmer. The top-sails of
the ship were clewed down to reef, and her way, of course,
considerably lessened--and in an instant, he found the end of a rope,
which was accidentally towing overboard, within his grasp, by which
he dragged in the dead water or eddy, that is created under the stern
of a vessel while sailing, particularly if she is full built and
deeply laden, as was the case with this. By a desperate effort, he
caught one of the rudder chains, which was very low, and drew himself
by it upon the step or jog of the rudder where he had sufficient
presence of mind to remain without calling out, until the light had
ceased to shine through the cabin-windows, when he concluded that the
search for him was over. He then made the signal to me.
No being in the ship, but myself, was apprised of his safety, for the
gale had increased and completely drowned the sounds of the knocking,
opening the window, &c. before they could reach the quarter deck; and
there was no one in the cabin but ourselves, the steward having
retired to his birth in the steerage. It was at once resolved that the
second mate only should be informed of his existence. He immediately
betook himself to a large vacant state room, and, for the remainder of
the passage, all his wants were attended to by me. Even the steward
was allowed to enter the cabin as rarely as possible.
Nothing of note occurred during the remainder of the voyage, which was
prosperous. It seemed that the foreigners had only been actuated by
revenge in the violence they had committed; for nothing further was
attempted by them. In due season we took a pilot in the channel, and,
in a day or two, entered the port of Liverpool. As soon as the proper
arrangements were made, we commenced warping the ship into dock, and
while engaged in this operation, the Mate appeared on deck, went
forward, and attended to his duties as usual! A scene occurred which
is beyond description: every feature of it is as vivid in my
recollection as though it occurred but yesterday, and will be to my
latest breath. The warp dropped from the paralysed hands of the
horror-stricken sailors, and had it not been taken up by some boatmen
on board, I should have been compelled to anchor again and procure
assistance from the shore. Not a word was uttered; but the two guilty
wretches staggered to the mainmast, where they remained petrified with
horror, until the officer, who had been sent for, approached to take
them into custody. They then seemed in a measure to be recalled to a
sense of their appalling predicament, and uttered the most piercing
expressions of lamentation and despair.
They were soon tried, and upon the testimony of the mate capitally
convicted and executed.
TOM CRINGLE'S LOG.
We had refitted, and been four days at sea, on our voyage to Jamaica,
when the gun-room officers gave our mess a blow out.
The increased motion and rushing of the vessel through the water, the
groaning of the masts, the howling of the gale, and the frequent
trampling of the watch on deck, were prophetic of wet jackets to some
of us; still, midshipman-like, we were as happy as a good dinner and
some wine could make us, until the old gunner shoved his weather
beaten phiz and bald pate in at the door. "Beg pardon Mr. Splinter,
but if you will spare Mr. Cringle on the forecastle an hour, until the
moon rises."--("Spare," quotha, "is his majesty's officer a joint
stool?")--"Why, Mr. Kennedy, why? here, man, take a glass of grog." "I
thank you sir." "It is coming on a roughish night, sir; the running
ships should be crossing us hereabouts; indeed, more than once I
thought there was a strange sail close aboard of us, the scud is
flying so low, and in such white flakes; and none of us have an eye
like Mr. Cringle, unless it be John Crow, and he is all but frozen."
"Well, Tom, I suppose you will go."--Anglice, from a first lieutenant
to a mid--
"Brush instanter."
Having changed my uniform for shag trowsers, pea-jacket and a
south-west cap, I went forward and took my station, in no pleasant
humor, on the stowed jib, with my arm around the stay. I had been half
an hour there, the weather was getting worse, the rain was beating in
my face, and the spray from the stern was splashing over me, as it
roared through the waste of sparkling and hissing waters. I turned my
back to the weather for a moment to press my hands on my straining
eyes. When I opened them, I saw the gunner's gaunt and high-featured
visage thrust anxiously forward; his profile looked as if rubbed over
with phosphorus, and his whole person as if we had been playing at
snap dragon. "What has come over you Mr. Kennedy? who's burning the
blue light now?" "A wiser man than I must tell you that; look forward
Mr. Cringle--look there; what do your books say to that?"
I looked forth, and saw at the extreme end of the jib-boom, what I
have read of, certainly, but never expected to see, a pale, greenish,
glow-worm colored flame, of the size and shape of the frosted glass
shade over the swinging lamp in the gun-room. It drew out and
flattened as the vessel pitched and rose again, and as she sheered
about, it wavered round the point that seemed to attract it, like a
soap suds bubble blown from a tobacco-pipe, before it is shaken into
the air; at the core it was comparatively bright, but faded into a
halo. It shed a baleful and ominous light on the surrounding objects;
the group of sailors on the forecastle looked like spectres, and they
shrunk together, and whispered when it began to roll slowly along the
spar where the boatswain was sitting at my feet. At this instant
something slid down the stay, and a cold clammy hand passed around my
neck. I was within an ace of losing my hold and tumbling
overboard.--"Heaven have mercy on me what's that?" "It's that
sky-larking son of a gun, Jem Sparkle's monkey, sir. You Jem, you'll
never rest till that brute is made shark's bait of." But Jacko
vanished up the stay again, chuckling and grinning in the ghastly
radiance, as if he had been 'the spirit of the Lamp.' The light was
still there, but a cloud of mist, like a burst of vapor from a steam
boiler, came down upon the gale and flew past, when it disappeared. I
followed the white mass as it sailed down the wind; it did not, as it
appeared to me, vanish in the darkness, but seemed to remain in sight
to leeward, as if checked by a sudden flaw; yet none of our sails were
taken aback. A thought flashed on me. I peered still more intensely
into the night. I was not certain.--"A sail, broad on the lee bow."
The captain answered from the quarter-deck--"Thank you, Mr. Cringle.
How shall we steer?" "Keep her away a couple of points, sir, steady."
"Steady," sung the man at the helm; and a slow melancholy cadence,
although a familiar sound to me, now moaned through the rushing wind,
and smote upon my heart as if it had been the wailing of a spirit. I
turned to the boatswain, who was now standing beside me, "is that you
or Davy steering, Mr. Nipper? if you had not been there bodily at my
side, I could have sworn that was your voice." When the gunner made
the same remark, it started the poor fellow; he tried to take it as a
joke, but could not. "There may be a laced hammock with a shot in it,
for some of us ere morning."
At this moment, to my dismay, the object we were chasing
shortened,--gradually fell abeam of us, and finally disappeared.
"The flying Dutchman." "I can't see her at all now."--"She will be a
fore and aft rigged vessel that has tacked, sir." And sure enough,
after a few seconds, I saw the white object lengthened and drew out
again abaft our beam. "The chase has tacked, sir; put the helm down,
or she will go to windward of us." We tacked also, and time it was we
did so, for the rising moon now showed us a large schooner with a
crowd of sail. We edged down on her, when finding her manoeuvre
detected, she brailed up her flat sails and bore up before the wind.
This was our best point of sailing, and we cracked on, the captain
rubbing his hands--"It's my turn to be the big un this time." Although
blowing a strong north-wester, it was now clear moonlight, and we
hammered away from our bow guns, but whenever a shot told amongst the
rigging, the injury was repaired as if by magic. It was evident we had
repeatedly hulled her, from the glimmering white streaks across her
counter and along her stern, occasioned by the splintering of the
timber, but it seemed to produce no effect.
At length we drew well upon her quarter. She continued all black hull
and white sail, not a soul to be seen on deck, except a dark object
which we took for the man at the helm. "What schooner is that?" No
answer. "Heave to, or I'll sink you." Still all silent. "Serjeant
Armstrong, do you think you can pick off that chap at the wheel?" The
mariner jumped on the forecastle, and levelled his piece, when a
musket-shot from the schooner crushed through his skull, and he fell
dead. The old skipper's blood was up. "Forecastle there! Mr. Nipper,
clap a canister of grape over the round shot in the bow gun, give it
to him." "Ay, ay, sir!" gleefully rejoined the boatswain, forgetting
the augury, and everything else, in the excitement of the moment. In a
twinkling the square foresail--topgallant--royal and studding-sail
haulyards, were let go on board the schooner, as if to round to. "Rake
him, sir, or give him the stern. He has not surrendered. I know their
game. Give him your broadside, sir, or he is off to windward of you,
like a shot. No, no, we have him now; heave to Mr. Splinter, heave
to!" We did so, and that so suddenly, that the studding sail booms
snapped like pipe shanks short off by the irons. Notwithstanding, we
had shot two hundred yards to the leeward, before we could lay our
maintopsail to the mast. I ran to windward. The schooner's yards and
rigging were now black with men, clustering like bees swarming, her
square sails were being close furled, her fore and aft sails set, and
away she was, dead to windward of us. "So much for undervaluing our
American friends," grumbled Mr. Splinter.
We made all sail in chase, blazing away to little purpose; we had no
chance on a bowline, and when our 'Amigo' had satisfied himself of his
superiority by one or two short tacks, he deliberately took a reef in
his mainsail, hauled down his flying jib and gaff-topsail, triced up
the bunt of his foresail, and fired his long thirty-two at us. The
shot came in our third aftermost port on the starboard side, and
dismounted the carronade, smashing the slide and wounding three men.
The second missed, and as it was madness to remain to be peppered,
probably winged, whilst every one of ours fell short, we reluctantly
kept away on our course, having the gratification of hearing a clear
well blown bugle on board the schooner play up "Yankee Doodle." As the
brig fell off, our long gun was run out to have a parting crack at
her, when the third and last shot from the schooner struck the sill of
the midship port, and made the white splinters fly from the solid oak
like bright silver sparks in the moonlight. A sharp, piercing cry rose
in the air--my soul identified that death-shriek with the voice that I
had heard, and I saw the man who was standing with the lanyard of the
lock in his hand drop heavily across the breech, and discharge the gun
in his fall. Thereupon a blood-red glare shot up in the cold blue sky,
as if a volcano had burst forth from beneath the mighty deep, followed
by a roar, and a scattering crash, and a mingling of unearthly cries
and groans, and a concussion of the air and the water as if our whole
broadside had been fired at once.--Then a solitary splash here, and a
dip there, and short sharp yells, and low choking bubbling moans, as
the hissing fragments of the noble vessel we had seen, fell into the
sea, and the last of her gallant crew vanished forever beneath that
pale broad moon. We were alone; and once more all was dark, wild and
stormy. Fearfully had that ball sped fired by a dead man's hand. But
what is it that clings, black and doubled, across the fatal cannon,
dripping and heavy, and choking the scuppers with clotting gore, and
swaying to and fro with the motion of the vessel, like a bloody
fleece? "Who is it that was hit at the gun there?" "Mr. Nipper, the
boatswain, sir, the last shot has cut him in two."
LOSS OF THE NAUTILUS, SLOOP OF WAR,
ON A ROCK IN THE ARCHIPELAGO.
A misunderstanding having originated between the Court of Great
Britain, and the Ottoman Porte, a powerful squadron was ordered to
proceed to Constantinople, for the purpose of enforcing compliance
with rational propositions. The object, however, proved abortive; and
the expedition terminated in a way which did not enhance the
reputation of these islands in the eyes of the Turks.
Sir Thomas Louis, commander of the squadron sent to the Dardanelles,
having charged Captain Palmer with dispatches of the utmost importance
for England, the Nautilus got under weigh at daylight on the third of
January 1807. A fresh breeze from N. E. carried her rapidly out of the
Hellespont, passing the celebrated castles in the Dardanelles, which
so severely galled the British. Soon afterwards she passed the island
of Tenedos, off the north end of which, two vessels of war were seen
at anchor; they hoisted Turkish colours, and in return the Nautilus
showed those of Britain.--In the course of this day, many of the other
islands abounding in the Greek Archipelago came in sight, and in the
evening the ship approached the island of Negropont, lying in 38 30
north latitude, and 24 8 east longitude; but now the navigation became
more intricate, from the increasing number of islands, and from the
narrow entrance between Negropont and the island of Andros.
The wind still continued to blow fresh, and as night was approaching,
with the appearance of being dark and squally, the pilot, who was a
Greek, wished to lie to until morning, which was done accordingly; and
at daylight the vessel again proceeded. His course was shaped for the
island of Falconera, in a track which has been so elegantly described
by Falconer, in a poem as far surpassing the uncouth productions of
modern times, as the Ionian temples surpassed those flimsy structures
contributing to render the fame of the originals eternal. This island,
and that of Anti Milo, were made in the evening, the latter distant
fourteen or sixteen miles from the more extensive island of Milo,
which could not then be seen, from the thickness and haziness of the
weather.
The pilot never having been beyond the present position of the
Nautilus, and declaring his ignorance of the further bearings, now
relinquished his charge, which was resumed by the captain. All
possible attention was paid to the navigation, and Captain Palmer,
after seeing Falconera so plainly, and anxious to fulfil his mission
with the greatest expedition, resolved to stand on during the night.
He was confident of clearing the Archipelago by morning, and himself
pricked the course from the chart which was to be steered by the
vessel. This he pointed out to his coxswain, George Smith, of whose
ability he entertained a high opinion. Then he ordered his bed to be
prepared, not having had his clothes off for the three preceding
nights, and having scarce had any sleep from the time of leaving the
Dardanelles.
A night of extreme darkness followed, with vivid lightning constantly
flashing in the horizon; but this circumstance served to inspire the
captain with a greater degree of confidence; for being enabled by it
to see so much further at intervals, he thought, that should the ship
approach any land, the danger would be discovered in sufficient time
to be avoided.
The wind continued still increasing; and though the ship carried but
little sail, she went at the rate of nine miles an hour, being
assisted by a lofty following sea, which with the brightness of the
lightning, made the night particularly awful. At half past two in the
morning, high land was distinguished, which, those who saw it supposed
to be the island of Cerigotto, and thence thought all safe, and that
every danger had been left behind. The ship's course was altered to
pass the island, and she continued on her course until half past four,
at the changing of the watch, when the man on the look-out exclaimed,
breakers ahead! and immediately the vessel struck with a most
tremendous crash. Such was the violence of the shock, that people were
thrown from their beds, and, on coming upon deck, were obliged to
cling to the cordage. All was now confusion and alarm; the crew
hurried on deck, which they had scarce time to do when the ladders
below gave way, and indeed left many persons struggling in the water,
which already rushed into the under part of the ship. The captain it
appeared had not gone to bed, and immediately came on deck when the
Nautilus struck; there having examined her situation, he immediately
went round, accompanied by his second lieutenant, Mr. Nesbit, and
endeavored to quiet the apprehensions of the people. He then returned
to his cabin, and burnt his papers and private signals. Meantime every
sea lifted up the ship, and then dashed her with irresistible force on
the rocks; and in a short time, the crew were obliged to resort to the
rigging, where they remained an hour, exposed to the surges
incessantly breaking over them. There they broke out into the most
lamentable exclamations, for their parents, children and kindred, and
the distresses they themselves endured. The weather was so dark and
hazy, that the rocks could be seen only at a very small distance, and
in two minutes afterwards the ship had struck.
At this time the lightning had ceased, but the darkness of the night
was such, that the people could not see the length of the ship from
them; their only hope rested in the falling of the main-mast, which
they trusted would reach a small rock, which was discovered very near
them. Accordingly, about half an hour before day-break, the main-mast
gave way, providentially falling towards the rock, and by means of it
they were enabled to gain the land.
The struggles and confusion to which this incident gave birth, can
better be conceived than described; some of the crew were drowned, one
man had his arm broke, and many were cruelly lacerated; but Captain
Palmer refused to quit his station, while any individual remained on
board; and not until the whole of his people had gained the rock did
he endeavor to save himself. At that time, in consequence of remaining
by the wreck, he had received considerable personal injury, and must
infallibly have perished, had not some of the seamen ventured through
a tremendous sea to his assistance. The boats were staved in pieces;
several of the people endeavored to haul in the jolly-boat, which they
were incapable of accomplishing.
The hull of the vessel being interposed, sheltered the shipwrecked
crew a long time from the beating of the surf; but as she broke up,
their situation became more perilous every moment, and they soon found
that they should be obliged to abandon the small portion of the rock,
which they had reached, and wade to another apparently somewhat
larger. The first lieutenant, by watching the breaking of the seas,
had got safely thither, and it was resolved by the rest to follow his
example. Scarce was this resolution formed, and attempted to be put
into execution, when the people encountered an immense quantity of
loose spars, which were immediately washed into the channel which
they had to pass; but necessity would admit of no alternative. Many in
crossing between the two rocks were severely wounded; and they
suffered more in this undertaking than in gaining the first rock from
the ship. The loss of their shoes was now felt in particular, for the
sharp rocks tore their feet in a dreadful manner, and the legs of some
were covered with blood.
Daylight beginning to appear, disclosed the horrors by which those
unfortunate men were surrounded. The sea was covered with the wreck of
their ill fated ship, many of their unhappy comrades were seen
floating away on spars and timbers; and the dead and dying were
mingled together without a possibility of the survivors affording
assistance to any that might still be rescued. Two short hours had
been productive of all this misery, the ship destroyed and her crew
reduced to a situation of despair. Their wild and affrighted looks
indicated the sensations by which they were agitated; but on being
recalled to a sense of their real condition, they saw that they had
nothing left but resignation to the will of heaven.
The shipwrecked mariners now discovered that they were cast away on a
coral rock almost level with the water, about three or four hundred
yards long, and two hundred broad.--They were at least twelve miles
from the nearest islands, which were afterwards found to be those of
Cerigotto and Pera, on the north end of Candia, about thirty miles
distant. At this time it was reported, that a small boat, with several
men, had escaped; and although the fact was true, the uncertainty of
her fate induced those on the rock to confide in being relieved by any
vessel accidentally passing in sight of a signal of distress they had
hoisted on a long pole; the neighboring islands being too distant.
The weather had been extremely cold, and the day preceding the
shipwreck ice had lain on the deck; now, to resist its inclemency, a
fire was made, by means of a knife and a flint preserved in the pocket
of one of the sailors; and with much difficulty, some damp powder,
from a small barrel washed on shore, was kindled. A kind of tent was
next made, with pieces of old canvass, boards, and such things as
could be got about the wreck, and the people were thus enabled to dry
the few clothes they had saved. But they passed a long and comfortless
night, though partly consoled with the hope of their fire being
descried in the dark, and taken for a signal of distress. Nor was this
hope altogether disappointed.
When the ship first struck, a small whale-boat was hanging over the
quarter, into which, an officer, George Smith the coxswain, and nine
men, immediately got, and, lowering themselves into the water, happily
escaped. After rowing three or four leagues against a very high sea,
and the wind blowing hard, they reached the small island of Pera. This
proved to be scarce a mile in circuit, and containing nothing but a
few sheep and goats, belonging to the inhabitants of Cerigo, who come
in the summer months to carry away their young. They could find no
fresh water, except a small residue from rain in the hole of a rock,
and that was barely sufficient though most sparingly used. During the
night, having observed the fire above mentioned, the party began to
conjecture that some of their shipmates might have been saved, for
until then they had deemed their destruction inevitable.--The coxswain
impressed with this opinion, proposed again hazarding themselves in
the boat for their relief, and, although some feeble objections were
offered against it, he continued resolute to his purpose, and
persuaded four others to accompany him.
About nine in the morning of Tuesday, the second day of the shipwreck,
the approach in the little whale-boat was descried by those on the
rock; all uttered an exclamation of joy, and in return the surprise of
the coxswain and his crew to find so many of their shipmates still
surviving is not to be described. But the surf ran so high as to
endanger the safety of the boat, and several of the people imprudently
endeavored to get into it. The coxswain tried to persuade Captain
Palmer to come to him, but he steadily refused, saying, "No, Smith,
save your unfortunate shipmates, never mind me."--After some little
consultation, he desired him to take the Greek pilot on board, and
make the best of his way to Cerigotto, where the pilot said there were
some families of fishermen, who doubtless would relieve their
necessities.
But it appeared as if Heaven had ordained the destruction of this
unfortunate crew, for, soon after the boat departed, the wind began to
increase, and dark clouds gathering around, excited among those
remaining behind all their apprehensions for a frightful storm. In a
about two hours it commenced with the greatest fury; the waves rose
considerably, and soon destroyed the fire. They nearly covered the
rock, and compelled the men to fly to the highest part for refuge,
which was the only one that could afford any shelter. There nearly
ninety people passed a night of the greatest horrors; and the only
means of preventing themselves from being swept away by the surf,
which every moment broke over them, was by a small rope fastened round
the summit of the rock, and with difficulty holding on by each other.
The fatigues which the people had previously undergone, added to what
they now endured, proved too overpowering to many of their number;
several became delirious; their strength was exhausted, and they could
hold on no longer. Their afflictions were still further aggravated by
an apprehension that the wind, veering more to the north, would raise
the sea to their present situation, in which case a single wave would
have swept them all into oblivion.
The hardships which the crew had already suffered were sufficient to
terminate existence, and many had met with deplorable accidents. One
in particular, while crossing the channel between the rocks at an
unsuitable time, was dashed against them so as to be nearly scalped,
and exhibited a dreadful spectacle to his companions. He lingered out
the night, and next morning expired. The more fortunate survivors were
but ill prepared to meet the terrible effects of famine; their
strength enfeebled, their bodies unsheltered and abandoned by hope.
Nor were they less alarmed for the fate of their boat. The storm came
on before she could have reached the intended island, and on her
safety their own depended. But the scene which daylight presented was
still more deplorable. The survivors beheld the corpses of their
departed shipmates, and some still in the agonies of death. They were
themselves altogether exhausted, from the sea all night breaking over
them, and the inclemency of the weather, which was such, that many,
among whom was the carpenter, perished from excessive cold.
But this unfortunate crew had now to suffer a mortification, and to
witness an instance of inhumanity, which leaves an eternal stain of
infamy on those who merit the reproach.--Soon after day broke, they
observed a vessel with all sail set, coming down before the wind,
steering directly for the rock. They made every possible signal of
distress which their feeble condition admitted, nor without effect,
for they were at last seen by the vessel, which bore to and hoisted
out her boat. The joy which this occasioned may be easily conceived,
for nothing short of immediate relief was anticipated; and they
hastily made preparation for rafts to carry them through the surf,
confident that the boat was provided with whatever might administer to
their necessities. Approaching still nearer, she came within
pistol-shot, full of men dressed in the European fashion, who after
having gazed at them a few minutes, the person who steered, waved his
hat to them and then rowed off to his ship. The pain of the
shipwrecked people at this barbarous proceeding was acute, and
heightened even more by beholding the stranger vessel employed the
whole day in taking up the floating remains of that less fortunate one
which had so lately borne them.
Perhaps the abandoned wretches guilty of so unfeeling an act may one
day be disclosed, and it would surely excite little compassion to
learn that they suffered that retribution which such inhuman conduct
merits. That people dressed in the habit of Englishmen, though
belonging to a different nation, could take advantage of misery
instead of relieving it, will scarce seem creditable at the present
day, were not some instances of a similar nature related elsewhere
than in these volumes.
After this cruel disappointment, and bestowing an anathema which the
barbarity of the strangers deserved, the thoughts of the people were,
during the remainder of the day, directed towards the return of the
boat; and being disappointed there also, their dread that she had been
lost was only further confirmed. They began to yield to despondency,
and had the gloomy prospect of certain death before them. Thirst then
became intolerable; and in spite of being warned against it by
instances of the terrific effects ensuing, some in desperation
resorted to salt water. Their companions had soon the grief of
learning what they would experience by following their example; in a
few hours raging madness followed, and nature could struggle no
longer.
Another awful night was to be passed, yet the weather being
considerably more moderate, the sufferers entertained hopes that it
would be less disastrous than the one preceding; and to preserve
themselves from the cold, they crowded close together and covered
themselves with their few remaining rags. But the ravings of their
comrades who had drank salt water were truly horrible; all endeavors
to quiet them were ineffectual, and the power of sleep lost its
influence. In the middle of the night they were unexpectedly hailed by
the crew of the whale-boat; but the only object of the people on the
rock was water; they cried out to their shipmates for it, though in
vain. Earthen vessels only could have been procured, and these would
not bear being conveyed through the surf. The coxswain then said they
should be taken off the rock by a fishing vessel in the morning, and
with this assurance they were forced to be content. It was some
consolation to know that the boat was safe, and that relief had so far
been obtained.
All the people anxiously expected morning, and, for the first time
since being on the rock, the sun cheered them with its rays. Still the
fourth morning came and no tidings either of the boat or vessel. The
anxiety of the people increased, for inevitable death from famine, was
staring them in the face. What were they to do for self-preservation?
The misery and hunger which they endured, were extreme; they were not
ignorant of the means whereby other unfortunate mariners in the like
situation had protracted life, yet they viewed them with disgust.
Still when they had no alternative, they considered their urgent
necessities and found them affording some excuse. Offering prayers to
Heaven for forgiveness of the sinful act, they selected a young man
who had died the preceding night, and ventured to appease their hunger
with human flesh.
Whether the people were relieved is uncertain, for towards evening
death had made hasty strides among them, and many brave men drooped
under their hardships. Among these were the captain and first
lieutenant, two meritorious officers: and the sullen silence now
preserved by the survivors, shewed the state of their internal
feelings. Captain Palmer was in the 26th year of his age; amidst his
endeavors to comfort those under his command, his companions in
misfortune, his personal injuries were borne with patience and
resignation, and no murmurs escaped his lips; his virtuous life was
prematurely closed by the overwhelming severities of the lamentable
catastrophe he had shared.
During the course of another tedious night, many suggested the
possibility of constructing a raft which might carry the survivors to
Cerigotto; and the wind being favorable, might enable them to reach
that island. At all events, attempting this seemed preferable to
remaining on the rock to expire of hunger and thirst. Accordingly, at
daylight they prepared to put their plan in execution. A number of the
larger spars were lashed together, and sanguine hopes of success
entertained. At length the moment of launching the raft arrived, but
it was only to distress the people with new disappointments, for a few
moments sufficed for the destruction of a work on which the strongest
of the party had been occupied hours. Several from this unexpected
failure became still more desperate, and five resolved to trust
themselves on a few small spars slightly lashed together, and on which
they had scarce room to stand. Bidding their companions adieu, they
launched out into the sea, where they were speedily carried away by
unknown currents, and vanished forever from sight.
Towards the same afternoon, the people were again rejoiced by the
sight of the whale-boat, and the coxswain told them that he had
experienced great difficulty in prevailing on the Greek fishermen of
Cerigotto to venture in their boats, from dread of the weather.
Neither would they permit him to take them unaccompanied by
themselves; he regretted what his comrades had endured, and his grief
at not being able yet to relieve them, but encouraged them with hopes,
if the weather remained fine, that next day the boats might come.
While the coxswain spoke this, twelve or fourteen men imprudently
plunged from the rock into the sea, and very nearly reached the boat.
Two indeed, got so far as to be taken in, one was drowned and the rest
providentially recovered their former station. Those who thus escaped
could not but be envied by their companions, while they reproached the
indiscretion of the others, who, had they reached the boat, would
without all doubt have sunk her, and thus unwittingly consigned the
whole to irremediable destruction.
The people were wholly occupied in reflections on the passing
incidents; but their weakness increased as the day elapsed; one of the
survivors describes himself as feeling the approach of annihilation,
that his sight failed, and his senses became confused; that his
strength was exhausted, and his eyes turned towards the setting sun,
under the conviction that he should never see it rise again. Yet on
the morning he survived, and he was surprised that Providence willed
it should still be so, as several strong men had fallen in the course
of the night. While the remainder were contemplating their forlorn
condition, and judging this the last day of their lives, the approach
of the boats was unexpectedly announced.--From the lowest ebb of
despair, they were now elated with the most extravagant joy; and
copious draughts of water, quickly landed, refreshed their languid
bodies. Never before did they know the blessings which the single
possession of water could afford; it tasted more delicious than the
finest wines.
Anxious preparations were made for immediate departure from a place,
which had been fatal to so many unhappy sufferers. Of one hundred and
twenty-two persons on board the Nautilus when she struck, fifty-eight
had perished. Eighteen were drowned, it was supposed, at the moment
of the catastrophe, and one in attempting to reach the boat, five were
lost on the small raft, and thirty-four died of famine. About fifty
now embarked in four fishing vessels, and landed the same evening at
the island of Cerigotto, making altogether sixty-four individuals,
including those who escaped in the whale-boat. Six days had been
passed on the rock, nor had the people, during that time, received any
assistance, excepting from the human flesh of which they had
participated.
The survivors landed at a small creek in the island of Cerigotto,
after which they had to go to a considerable distance before reaching
the dwellings of their friends. Their first care was to send for the
master's mate, who had escaped to the island of Pori, and had been
left behind when the whale-boat came down to the rock. He and his
companions had exhausted all the fresh water, but lived on the sheep
and goats, which they caught among the rocks, and had drank their
blood. There they had remained in a state of great uncertainty
concerning the fate of those who had left them in the boat.
Though the Greeks could not aid the seamen in the care of their
wounds, they treated them with great care and hospitality; but medical
assistance being important, from the pain the sufferers endured, and
having nothing to bind up their wounds but shirts which they tore into
bandages, they were eager to reach Cerigo. The island of Cerigotto,
where they had landed, was a dependency on the other, about fifteen
miles long, ten broad, and of a barren and unproductive soil, with
little cultivation. Twelve or fourteen families of Greek fishermen
dwelt upon it, as the pilot had said, who were in a state of extreme
poverty. Their houses, or rather huts, consisting of one or two rooms
on the same floor, were, in general, built against the side of a rock;
the walls composed of clay and straw, and the roof supported by a tree
in the centre of the dwelling. Their food was a coarse kind of bread,
formed of boiled pease and flour, which was made into a kind of paste
for the strangers, with once or twice a bit of kid; and that was all
which they could expect from their deliverers. But they made a liquor
from corn, which having an agreeable flavour, and being a strong
spirit, was drank with avidity by the sailors.
Cerigo was about twenty-five miles distant, and there, it was also
said, an English consul resided. Eleven days elapsed, however, before
the crew could leave Cerigotto, from the difficulty of persuading the
Greeks to adventure to sea, in their frail barks, during tempestuous
weather. The wind at last proving fair, with a smooth sea, they bade a
grateful adieu to the families of their deliverers, who were tenderly
affected by their distresses, and shed tears of regret when they
departed. In six or eight hours, they reached Cerigo, where they were
received with open arms. Immediately on arrival, they were met by the
English vice-consul, Signor Manuel Caluci, a native of the island, who
devoted his house, bed, credit and whole attention to their service;
and the survivors unite in declaring their inability to express the
obligations under which he laid them. The governor, commandant, bishop
and principal people, all shewed equal hospitality, care and
friendship, and exerted themselves to render the time agreeable;
insomuch that it was with no little regret that these shipwrecked
mariners thought of forsaking the island.
After the people had remained three weeks at Cerigo, they learnt that
a Russian ship of war lay at anchor off the Morea about twelve leagues
distant, being driven in by bad weather, and immediately sent letters
to her commanding officer, narrating their misfortunes and soliciting
a passage to Corfu.--The master of the Nautilus determining to make
the most of the opportunity, took a boat to reach the Russian vessel;
but he was at first so unfortunate as to be blown on the rocks in a
heavy gale of wind, where he nearly perished, and the boat was staved
in pieces. However, he luckily got to the ship, and after some
difficulty, succeeded in procuring the desired passage for himself and
his companions to Corfu. Her commander, to accommodate them, came down
to Cerigo, and anchored at a small port called St. Nicholas, at the
eastern extremity of the island. The English embarked on the 5th, but,
owing to contrary winds, did not sail until the 15th of February, when
they bade farewell to their friends. They next touched at Zante,
another small island, abounding in currants and olives, the oil from
the latter of which constitutes the chief riches of the people. After
remaining there four days, they sailed for Corfu, where they arrived
on the 2d of March 1807, nearly two months after the date of their
shipwreck.
WRECK OF A SLAVE SHIP.
The following extract of a letter from Philadelphia, dated November
11th, 1762, gives an account of the melancholy disaster that befel the
Phoenix, Capt. M'Gacher, in lat. 37 deg. N. and lon. 72 deg. W. from
London, bound to Potomac, in Maryland, from the coast of Africa, with
332 slaves on board.
"On Wednesday the 20th of October 1762, at six o'clock in the evening,
came on a most violent gale of wind at south, with thunder and
lightning, the sea running very high, when the ship sprung a leak, and
we were obliged to lie-to under bare poles, the water gained on us
with both pumps constantly working. 10 P. M. endeavored to put the
ship before the wind to no purpose. At twelve the sand ballast having
choked our pumps, and there being seven feet water in the hold, all
the casks afloat, and the ballast shifted to leeward, cut away the
rigging of the main and mizen masts, both of which went instantly
close by the deck, and immediately after the foremast was carried away
about twenty feet above. Hove overboard all our guns, upon which the
ship righted a little. We were then under a necessity of letting all
our slaves out of irons, to assist in pumping and baling.
"Thursday morning being moderate, having gained about three feet on
the ship, we found every cask in the hold stove to pieces, so that we
only saved a barrel of flour, 10 lbs. of bread, twenty-five gallons of
wine, beer, and shrub, and twenty-five gallons of spirits. The seamen
and slaves were employed all this day in pumping and baling; the pumps
were frequently choked, and brought up great quantities of sand. We
were obliged to hoist one of the pumps up, and put it down the quarter
deck hatchway. A ship this day bore down upon us, and, though very
near, and we making every signal of distress, she would not speak to
us.
"On Friday, the men slaves being very sullen and unruly, having had no
sustenance of any kind for forty-eight hours, except a dram, we put
one half of the strongest of them in irons.
"On Saturday and Sunday, all hands night and day could scarce keep
the ship clear, and were constantly under arms.
"On Monday morning, many of the slaves had got out of irons, and were
attempting to break up the gratings; and the seamen not daring to go
down in the hold to clear the pumps, we were obliged, for the
preservation of our own lives, to kill fifty of the ringleaders and
stoutest of them.
"It is impossible to describe the misery the poor slaves underwent,
having had no fresh water for five days. Their dismal cries and
shrieks, and most frightful looks, added a great deal to our
misfortunes; four of them were found dead, and one drowned herself in
the hold. This evening the water gained on us, and three seamen
dropped down with fatigue and thirst, which could not be quenched,
though wine, rum, and shrub were given them alternately. On Thursday
morning the ship had gained, during the night, above a foot of water,
and the seamen quite worn out, and many of them in despair. About ten
in the forenoon we saw a sail; about two she discovered us, and bore
down; at five spoke to us, being the King George, of Londonderry,
James Mackay, master; he immediately promised to take us on board, and
hoisted out his yawl, it then blowing very fresh. The gale increasing,
prevented him from saving any thing but the white people's lives, not
even any of our clothes, or one slave, the boat being scarcely able to
live in the sea the last trip she made. Capt. Mackay and some
gentlemen, passengers he had on board, treated us with kindness and
humanity."
THE WRECKED SEAMEN.
The annexed thrilling sketch is extracted from the "Life of a Sailor,
by a Captain in the British Navy." It relates to the exposures of the
crew of the Magpie, who had taken to the boat, after their shipwreck
on the coast of Cuba. The boat was upset,--the storm continues:--
Even in this moment of peril, the discipline of the navy assumed its
command. At the order from the lieutenant for the men on the keel to
relinquish their position they instantly obeyed, the boat was turned
over and once more the expedient was tried--but quite in vain; for no
sooner had the two men begun to bail with a couple of hats, and the
safety of the crew to appear within the bounds of probability, than
one man declared he saw the fin of a shark. No language can convey an
idea of the panic which seized the struggling seamen; a shark is at
all times an object of horror to a sailor; and those who have seen the
destructive jaws of this voracious fish, and their immense and almost
incredible power--their love of blood and their bold daring to obtain
it, alone can form an idea of the sensations produced in a swimmer by
the cry of "a shark! a shark!" Every man now struggled to obtain a
moment's safety. Well they knew that one drop of blood would have been
scented by the everlasting pilot-fish, the jackalls of the shark; and
that their destruction was inevitable, if one only of these monsters
should discover this rich repast, or be led to its food by the little
rapid hunter of its prey.--All discipline was now unavailing, the boat
again turned keel up; one man only gained his security to be pushed
from it by others and thus their strength begun to fail from long
continued exertion. However, as the enemy so much dreaded did not make
its appearance, Smith once more urged them to endeavor to save
themselves by the only means left, that of the boat; but as he knew
that he would only increase their alarm by endeavoring to persuade
them that sharks did not abound in these parts, he used the wisest
plan of desiring those who held on by the gun-wale, to keep splashing
in the water with their legs, in order to frighten the monsters at
which they were so alarmed. Once more had hope began to dawn:--the
boat was clear to her thwarts, and four men were in her hard at work;
a little forbearance and a little obedience, and they were safe. At
this moment, when those in the water urged their messmates in the boat
to continue bailing with unremitted exertion, a noise was heard close
to them, and about fifteen sharks came right in amongst them. The
panic was ten times more dreadful than before; the boat was again
upset by the simultaneous endeavor to escape the danger; and the
twenty-two sailors were again devoted to destruction.--At first the
sharks did not seem inclined to seize their prey, but swam in amongst
the men, playing in the water, sometimes leaping about and rubbing
against their victims. This was of short duration, a loud shriek from
one of the men announced his sudden pain; a shark had seized him by
the leg, and severed it entirely from the body. No sooner had the
blood been tasted than the long dreaded attack took place; another and
another shriek proclaimed a loss of limbs; some were torn from the
boat to which they vainly endeavored to cling; some, it was supposed,
sunk from fear alone; all were in dreadful peril. Mr. Smith, even now,
when of all horrible deaths the most horrible seemed to await him,
gave his orders with clearness and coolness; and to the everlasting
honor of the poor departed crew be it known, they were obeyed; again
the boat was righted, and again two men were in her. Incredible as it
may appear, still, however, it is true, that the voice of the officer
was heard amidst the danger; and the survivors, actually as before,
clung to the gun-wale, and kept the boat upright. Mr. Smith himself
held to the stern, and cheered and applauded his men. The sharks had
tasted the blood, and were not to be driven from their feast; in one
short moment, when Mr. Smith ceased splashing as he looked into the
boat to watch the progress, a shark seized both legs, and bit them off
just above the knees. Human nature was not strong enough to bear the
immense pain without a groan; but Mr. Smith endeavored to conceal the
misfortune, nature, true to herself, resisted the endeavor, and the
groan was deep and audible. The crew had long respected their gallant
commander; they knew his worth and his courage:--on hearing him
express his pain, and seeing him relinquish his hold to sink, two of
the men grasped their dying officer, and placed him in the stern
sheets. Even now in almost insupportable agony, that gallant fellow
forgot his own sufferings, and thought only on rescuing the remaining
few from the untimely grave which awaited them; he told them again of
their only hope, deplored their perilous state, and concluded with
these words; "if any of you survive this fatal night, and return to
Jamaica, tell the admiral (Sir Lawrence Halstead) that I was in search
of the pirate when this lamentable occurrence took place, tell him I
hope I have always done my duty, and that I--" Here the endeavor of
some of the men to get into the boat gave her a heel on one side; the
men who were supporting poor Smith relinquished him for a moment, and
he rolled overboard and was drowned. His last bubbling cry was soon
lost amidst the shrieks of his former companions, he sunk to rise no
more.
At eight o'clock in the evening the Magpie was upset; it was
calculated by the two survivors, that their companions had all died by
nine. The sharks seemed satisfied for the moment, and they, with
gallant hearts, resolved to profit by the precious time in order to
save themselves; they righted the boat, and one getting over the bows,
and the other over the stern, they found themselves although nearly
exhausted, yet alive, and in comparative security, they began the work
of bailing, and soon lightened the boat sufficiently not to be easily
upset, when both set down to rest. The return of the sharks was a
signal for their return to labor. The voracious monsters endeavored to
upset the boat; they swam by its side in seeming anxiety for their
prey, but after waiting sometime, they separated; the two rescued
seamen, found themselves free from their insatiable enemies, and, by
the blessing of God, saved.--Tired as they were, they continued their
labor until the boat was nearly dry, when both lay down to rest, the
one forward, and the other aft; so completely had fear operated on
their minds, that they did not dare even to move, dreading that an
incautious step might have capsized the boat. They soon, in spite of
the horrors they had witnessed, fell into a sound sleep, and day had
dawned before they awoke to horrible reflections, and apparently worse
dangers. The sun rose clear and unclouded; the cool calm of the night
was followed by the sultry calm of the morning, and heat, hunger,
thirst and fatigue, seemed to settle on the unfortunate men, rescued
by Providence and their own exertions from the jaws of a horrible
death. They awoke and looked at each other, the very gaze of despair
was appalling; far as the eye could reach, no object could be
discerned; the bright haze of the morning added to the strong
refraction of light; one smooth, interminable plain, one endless
ocean, one cloudless sky and one burning sun, were all they had to
gaze upon. The boat lay like the ark, in a world alone! They had no
oar, no mast and no sail, nothing but the bare planks and themselves,
without provisions or water, food or raiment. They lay upon the calm
ocean, hopeless, friendless and miserable. It was a time of intense
anxiety, their eyes rested upon each other in silent pity, not unmixed
with fear. Each knew the dreadful alternative to which nature would
urge them. The cannibal was already in their looks, and fearful would
have been the first attack on either side, for they were both brave
and stout men, and equals in strength and courage.
It now being about half past six in the morning, the sun was beginning
to prove its burning power, the sea was as smooth as a looking glass,
and saving now and then, the slight cat's paw of air, which ruffled
the face of the water for a few yards, all was calm and hushed. In
vain they strained their eyes, in vain they turned from side to side
to escape the burning rays of the sun; they could not sleep, for now
anxiety and fear kept both vigilant and on their guard; they dared not
to court sleep, for that might have been the last of mortal repose.
Once they nearly quarrelled, but fortunately the better feelings of
humanity overcame the bitterness of despair. The foremost man had long
complained of thirst, and had frequently dipped his hand into the
water, and sucked the fluid; this was hastily done, for all the
horrors of the night were still before them, and not unfrequently the
sharp fin of a shark was seen not very far from the boat. In the midst
of the excruciating torments of thirst, heightened by the salt water,
and the irritable temper of the bowman, as he stamped his impatient
feet against the bottom boards, and tore his hair with unfeeling
indifference, he suddenly stopped the expression of rage and called
out--"a sail!"
Whilst they stood watching in silence the approach of the brig, which
slowly made her way through the water, and at the very instant that
they were assuring each other that they were seen, and that the vessel
was purposely steered on the course she was keeping, to reach them,
the whole fabric of hope was destroyed in a second; the brig kept away
about three points, and began to make more sail. Then was it an awful
moment; their countenances saddened as they looked at each other; for
in vain they hailed, in vain they threw their jackets in the air; it
was evident they had never been seen, and that the brig was steering
her proper course.
The time was slipping away, and if once they got abaft the beam of the
brig, every second would lessen the chance of being seen, besides, the
sea breeze might come down, and then she would be far away, and beyond
all hope in a quarter of an hour. Now was it, that the man who had
been so loudly lamenting his fate, seemed suddenly inspired with fresh
hope and courage, he looked attentively at the brig, then at his
companion, and said "by heaven I'll do it, or we are lost!" "Do what?"
said his shipmate. "Though," said the first man, "it is no trifle to
do, after what we have seen and known; yet I will try, for if she
passes us, what can we do? I tell you Jack, I'll swim to her, if I get
safe to her, you are saved, if not, why I shall die without adding,
perhaps, murder to my crimes." "What! jump overboard, and leave me all
alone!" replied his companion, "look, look at that shark, which has
followed us all night, why it is only waiting for you to get into the
water to swallow you, as it did perhaps half of our messmates; no, no,
wait, do wait, perhaps another vessel may come, besides, I cannot swim
half the distance, and I should be afraid to remain behind, think,
Tom, only think of the sharks and of last night."
He jumped overboard with as much calmness as if he was bathing in
security. No sooner had he began to strike out in the direction he
intended, than his companion turned towards the sharks. The first had
disappeared, and it was evident they had heard the splash, and would
soon follow their prey. It is hard to say who suffered the most
anxiety. The one left in the boat cheered his companion, looked at the
brig, and kept waving his jacket, then turned to watch the sharks; his
horror may be imagined when he saw three of these terrific monsters
swim past the boat, exactly in the direction of his companion; he
splashed his jacket in the water to scare them away, but they seemed
quite aware of the impotency of the attack, and lazily pursued their
course. The man swam well and strongly. There was no doubt he would
pass within hail of the brig, provided the sharks did not interfere,
and he, knowing that they would not be long in following him, kept
kicking in the water and splashing as he swam. There is no fish more
cowardly, and yet more desperately savage than a shark. I have seen
one harpooned twice, with a hook in his jaws, and come again to a
fresh bait, yet will they suffer themselves to be scared by the
smallest noise, and hardly ever take their prey without it is quite
still. Generally speaking, any place surrounded by rocks where the
surf breaks, although there may be no passage for a ship, will be
secure from sharks. It was not until a great distance had been
accomplished, that the swimmer became apprized of his danger, and saw
by his side one of the terrific creatures; still however, he bravely
swam and kicked, his mind was made up for the worst, and he had little
hope of success. In the meantime the breeze had gradually freshened,
and the brig passed with greater velocity through the water; every
stitch of canvas was spread. To the poor swimmer the sails seemed
bursting with the breeze, and as he used his utmost endeavor to propel
himself so as to cut off the vessel, the spray appeared to dash from
the bow and the brig to fly through the sea. He was now close enough
to hope his voice might be heard; but he hailed and hailed in vain,
not a soul was to be seen on deck; the man who steered was too intent
upon his avocation to listen to the call of mercy. The brig passed,
and the swimmer was every second getting further in the distance,
every hope was gone, not a ray of that bright divinity remained; the
fatigue had nearly exhausted him, and the sharks only waited for the
first quiet moment to swallow their victim. It was in vain he thought
of returning towards the boat, for he never could have reached her,
and his companion had no means of assisting him. In the act of
offering up his last prayer ere he made up his mind to float and be
eaten, he saw a man looking over the quarter of the brig; he raised
both his hands, he jumped himself up in the water, and by the
singularity of his motions, fortunately attracted notice. A telescope
soon made clear the object; the brig was hove to, a boat sent, and the
man saved. The attention of the crew was then awakened to the Magpie's
boat; she was soon alongside, and thus through the bold exertions of
as gallant a fellow as ever breathed, both were rescued from their
perilous situation.
ADVENTURES OF PHILIP ASHTON,
WHO, AFTER ESCAPING FROM PIRATES, LIVED SIXTEEN MONTHS IN SOLITUDE ON
A DESOLATE ISLAND.
On Friday the 15th of June 1722, after being out some time in a
schooner with four men and a boy, off Cape Sable, I stood in for Port
Rossaway, designing to lie there all Sunday. Having arrived about four
in the afternoon, we saw, among other vessels which had reached the
port before us, a brigantine supposed to be inward bound from the West
Indies. After remaining three or four hours at anchor, a boat from the
brigantine came alongside, with four hands, who leapt on deck, and
suddenly drawing out pistols, and brandishing cutlasses, demanded the
surrender both of ourselves and our vessel. All remonstrance was vain;
nor indeed, had we known who they were before boarding us, could we
have made any effectual resistance, being only five men and a boy,
and were thus under the necessity of submitting at discretion. We were
not single in misfortune, as thirteen or fourteen fishing-vessels were
in like manner surprised the same evening.
When carried on board the brigantine, I found myself in the hands of
Ned Low, an infamous pirate, whose vessel had two great guns, four
swivels, and about forty-two men. I was strongly urged to sign the
articles of agreement among the pirates, and to join their number,
which I steadily refused, and suffered much bad usage in consequence.
At length being conducted, along with five of the prisoners, to the
quarter-deck, Low came up to us with pistols in his hand, and loudly
demanded, "Are any of you married men?" This unexpected question,
added to the sight of the pistols, struck us all speechless; we were
alarmed lest there was some secret meaning in his words, and that he
would proceed to extremities, therefore none could reply. In a violent
passion he cocked a pistol, and clapping it to my head, cried out,
"You dog, why don't you answer?" swearing vehemently at the same time
that he would shoot me through the head. I was sufficiently terrified
by his threats and fierceness, but rather than lose my life in so
trifling a matter, I ventured to pronounce, as loud as I durst speak,
that I was not married. Hereupon he seemed to be somewhat pacified,
and turned away.
It appeared that Low was resolved to take no married men whatever,
which often seemed surprising to me until I had been a considerable
time with him. But his own wife had died lately before he became a
pirate; and he had a young child at Boston, for whom he entertained
such tenderness, on every lucid interval from drinking and revelling,
that, on mentioning it, I have seen him sit down and weep plentifully.
Thus I concluded, that his reason for taking only single men, was
probably, that they might have no ties, such as wives and children, to
divert them from his service, and render them desirous of returning
home.
The pirates finding force of no avail in compelling us to join them,
began to use persuasion instead of it. They tried to flatter me into
compliance, by setting before me the share I should have in their
spoils, and the riches which I should become master of; and all the
time eagerly importuned me to drink along with them. But I still
continued to resist their proposals, whereupon Low, with equal fury as
before, threatened to shoot me through the head; and though I
earnestly entreated my release, he and his people wrote my name, and
that of my companions, in their books.
On the 19th of June, the pirates changed the privateer, as they called
their vessel, and went into a new schooner belonging to Marblehead,
which they had captured. They then put all the prisoners, whom they
designed sending home, on board of the brigantine, and sent her to
Boston, which induced me to make another unsuccessful attempt for
liberty; but though I fell on my knees to Low, he refused to let me
go: thus I saw the brigantine depart, with the whole captives,
excepting myself and seven more.
Very short time before she departed, I had nearly effected my escape;
for a dog belonging to Low being accidentally left on shore, he
ordered some hands into a boat to bring it off. Thereupon two young
men, captives, both belonging to Marblehead, readily leapt into the
boat, and I considering, that if I could once get on shore, means
might be found of effecting my escape, endeavored to go along with
them. But the quarter-master, called Russel, catching hold of my
shoulder, drew me back. As the young men did not return, he thought I
was privy to their plot, and, with the most outrageous oaths, snapped
his pistol, on my denying all knowledge of it. The pistol missing
fire, however, only served to enrage him the more: he snapped it three
times again, and as often it missed fire; on which he held it
overboard, and then it went off. Russel on this drew his cutlass, and
was about to attack me in the utmost fury, when I leapt down into the
hold and saved myself.
Off St. Michael's the pirates took a large Portuguese pink, laden with
wheat, coming out of the road; and being a good sailor, and carrying
14 guns, transferred their company into her. It afterwards became
necessary to careen her, whence they made three islands, called
Triangles, lying about 40 leagues to the eastward of Surinam.
In heaving down the pink, Low had ordered so many men to the shrouds
and yards, that the ports, by her heeling, got under water, and the
sea rushing in, she overset: he and the doctor were then in the cabin,
and as soon as he observed the water gushing in, he leaped out of the
stern port, while the doctor attempted to follow him. But the violence
of the sea repulsed the latter, and he was forced back into the cabin.
Low, however, contrived to thrust his arm into the port, and dragging
him out, saved his life. Meanwhile, the vessel completely overset.
Her keel turned out of the water; but as the hull filled, she sunk, in
the depth of about six fathoms.
The yard-arms striking the ground, forced the masts somewhat above the
water; as the ship overset, the people got from the shrouds and yards,
upon the hull, and as the hull went down, they again resorted to the
rigging, rising a little out of the sea.
Being an indifferent swimmer, I was reduced to great extremity; for,
along with other light lads, I had been sent up to the main-top-gallant
yard; and the people of a boat, who were now occupied in preserving the
men refusing to take me in, I was compelled to attempt reaching the
buoy. This I luckily accomplished, and as it was large secured myself
there until the boat approached. I once more requested the people to
take me in, but they still refused, as the boat was full. I was
uncertain whether they designed leaving me to perish in this situation:
however, the boat being deeply laden, made way very slowly, and one of
my comrades, captured at the same time with myself, calling to me to
forsake the buoy and swim towards her, I assented, and reaching the
boat, he drew me on board. Two men, John Bell, and Zana Gourdon, were
lost in the pink.
Though the schooner in company was very near at hand, her people were
employed mending their sails under an awning, and knew nothing of the
accident until the boat full of men, got alongside.
The pirates having thus lost their principal vessel, and the greatest
part of their provisions and water, were reduced to great extremities
for want of the latter. They were unable to get a supply at the
Triangles, nor on account of calms and currents, could they make the
island of Tobago. Thus they were forced to stand for Grenada, which
they reached, after being on short allowance for sixteen days
together.
Grenada was a French settlement, and Low, on arriving, after having
sent all his men, except a sufficient number to manoeuvre the vessel,
below, said he was from Barbadoes; that he had lost the water on
board, and was obliged to put in here for a supply.
The people entertained no suspicion of his being a pirate, but
afterwards supposing him a smuggler, thought it a good opportunity to
make a prize of his vessel. Next day, therefore, they equipped a large
sloop of 70 tons, and four guns, with about 30 hands, as sufficient
for the capture, and came alongside, while Low was quite unsuspicious
of their design. But this being evidently betrayed by their number
and actions, he quickly called 90 men on deck, and, having 8 guns
mounted, the French sloop became an easy prey.
Provided with these two vessels, the pirates cruised about in the West
Indies, taking seven or eight prizes, and at length arrived at the
island of Santa Cruz, where they captured two more. While lying there,
Low thought he stood in need of a medicine chest, and, in order to
procure one, sent four Frenchmen, in a vessel he had taken, to St.
Thomas's, about twelve leagues distant, with money to purchase it;
promising them liberty, and the return of all their vessels, for the
service. But he declared at the same time, if it proved otherwise, he
would kill the rest of the men, and burn the vessels. In little more
than twenty-four hours, the Frenchmen returned with the object of
their mission, and Low punctually performed his promise by restoring
the vessels.
Having sailed for the Spanish American settlements, the pirates
descried two large ships, about half way between Carthagena and
Portobello, which proved to be the Mermaid, an English man-of-war, and
a Guineaman. They approached in chase until discovering the
man-of-war's great range of teeth, when they immediately put about,
and made the best of their way off. The man-of-war then commenced the
pursuit, and gained upon them apace, and I confess that my terrors
were now equal to any that I had previously suffered; for I concluded
that we should certainly be taken, and that I should no less certainly
be hanged for company's sake: so true are the words of Solomon, "A
companion of fools shall be destroyed." But the two pirate vessels
finding themselves outsailed, separated, and Farrington Spriggs, who
commanded the schooner in which I was, stood in for the shore. The
Mermaid observing the sloop with Low himself to be the larger of the
two, crowded all sail, and continued gaining still more, indeed until
her shot flew over; but one of the sloop's crew shewed Low a shoal,
which he could pass, and in the pursuit the man-of-war grounded. Thus
the pirates escaped hanging on this occasion.
Spriggs and one of his chosen companions dreading the consequences of
being captured and brought to justice, laid their pistols beside them
in the interval, and pledging a mutual oath in a bumper of liquor,
swore, if they saw no possibility of escape, to set foot to foot, and
blow out each other's brains. But standing towards the shore, they
made Pickeroon Bay, and escaped the danger.
Next we repaired to a small island called Utilla, about seven or
eight leagues to leeward of the island of Roatan, in the Bay of
Honduras, where the bottom of the schooner was cleaned. There were now
twenty-two persons on board, and eight of us engaged in a plot to
overpower our masters, and make our escape. Spriggs proposed sailing
for New England, in quest of provisions, and to increase his company;
and we intended on approaching the coast, when the rest had indulged
freely in liquor, and fallen sound asleep, to secure them under the
hatches, and then deliver ourselves up to government.
Although our plot was carried on with all possible privacy, Spriggs
had somehow or other got intelligence of it; and having fallen in with
Low on the voyage, went on board his ship to make a furious
declaration against us. But Low made little account of his
information, otherwise it might have been fatal to most of our number.
Spriggs, however, returned raging to the schooner, exclaiming, that
four of us should go forward to be shot, and to me in particular he
said, "You dog Ashton, you deserve to be hanged up at the yard-arm for
designing to cut us off." I replied, "that I had no intention of
injuring any man on board; but I should be glad if they would allow me
to go away quietly." At length this flame was quenched, and, through
the goodness of God, I escaped destruction.
Roatan harbour, as all about the Bay of Honduras, is full of small
islands, which pass under the general name of Keys; and having got in
here, Low, with some of his chief men, landed on a small island, which
they called Port Royal Key. There they erected huts, and continued
carousing, drinking, and firing, while the different vessels, of which
they now had possession, were repairing.
On Saturday the 9th of March 1723, the cooper, with six hands, in the
long-boat, was going ashore for water; and coming alongside of the
schooner, I requested to be of the party. Seeing him hesitate, I urged
that I had never hitherto been ashore, and thought it hard to be so
closely confined, when every one besides had the liberty of landing as
there was occasion. Low had before told me, on requesting to be sent
away in some of the captured vessels which he dismissed, that I should
go home when he did, and swore that I should never previously set my
foot on land. But now I considered, if I could possibly once get on
terra firma, though in ever such bad circumstances, I should account
it a happy deliverance, and resolved never to embark again.
The cooper at length took me into the long-boat, while Low, and his
chief people, were on a different island from Roatan, where the
watering place lay; my only clothing was an Osnaburgh frock and
trowsers, a milled cap, but neither shirt, shoes, stockings, nor any
thing else.
When we first landed, I was very active in assisting to get the casks
out of the boat, and in rolling them to the watering-place. Then
taking a hearty draught of water, I strolled along the beach, picking
up stones and shells; but on reaching the distance of a musket-shot
from the party, I began to withdraw towards the skirts of the woods.
In answer to a question by the cooper of whither I was going? I
replied, "for cocoa nuts, as some cocoa trees were just before me;"
and as soon as I was out of sight of my companions, I took to my
heels, running as fast as the thickness of the bushes and my naked
feet would admit. Notwithstanding I had got a considerable way into
the woods, I was still so near as to hear the voices of the party if
they spoke loud, and I lay close in a thicket where I knew they could
not find me.
After my comrades had filled their casks, and were about to depart,
the cooper called on me to accompany them; however, I lay snug in the
thicket, and gave him no answer, though his words were plain enough.
At length, after hallooing loudly, I could hear them say to one
another, "The dog is lost in the woods, and cannot find the way out
again;" then they hallooed once more, and cried "he has run away and
won't come to us;" and the cooper observed, that, had he known my
intention, he would not have brought me ashore. Satisfied of their
inability to find me among the trees and bushes, the cooper at last,
to show his kindness, exclaimed, "If you do not come away presently, I
shall go off and leave you alone." Nothing, however, could induce me
to discover myself; and my comrades seeing it vain to wait any longer,
put off without me.
Thus I was left on a desolate island, destitute of all help, and
remote from the track of navigators; but compared with the state and
society I had quitted, I considered the wilderness hospitable, and the
solitude interesting.
When I thought the whole were gone, I emerged from my thicket, and
came down to a small run of water, about a mile from the place where
our casks were filled, and there sat down to observe the proceedings
of the pirates. To my great joy, in five days their vessels sailed,
and I saw the schooner part from them to shape a different course.
I then began to reflect on myself and my present condition. I was on
an island which I had no means of leaving; I knew of no human being
within many miles; my clothing was scanty, and it was impossible to
procure a supply. I was altogether destitute of provision, nor could
tell how my life was to be supported. This melancholy prospect drew a
copious flood of tears from my eyes; but as it had pleased God to
grant my wishes in being liberated from those whose occupation was
devising mischief against their neighbors, I resolved to account every
hardship light. Yet Low would never suffer his men to work on the
Sabbath, which was more devoted to play; and I have even seen some of
them sit down to read in a good book.
In order to ascertain how I was to live in time to come, I began to
range over the island, which proved ten or eleven leagues long, and
lay in about 16 deg north latitude. But I soon found that my only
companions would be the beasts of the earth, and fowls of the air; for
there were no indications of any habitations on the island, though
every now and then I found some shreds of earthen ware scattered in a
lime walk, said by some to be the remains of Indians formerly dwelling
here.
The island was well watered, full of high hills and deep vallies.
Numerous fruit trees, such as figs, vines, and cocoa-nuts are found in
the latter; and I found a kind larger than an orange, oval-shaped, of
a brownish color without, and red within. Though many of these had
fallen under the trees, I could not venture to take them, until I saw
the wild hogs feeding with safety, and then I found them very
delicious fruit.
Stores of provisions abounded here, though I could avail myself of
nothing but the fruit; for I had no knife or iron implement, either to
cut up a tortoise on turning it, or weapons wherewith to kill animals;
nor had I any means of making a fire to cook my capture, even if I
were successful.
Sometimes I entertained thoughts of digging pits, and covering them
over with small branches of trees, for the purpose of taking hogs or
deer; but I wanted a shovel and every substitute for the purpose, and
I was soon convinced that my hands were insufficient to make a cavity
deep enough to retain what should fall into it. Thus I was forced to
rest satisfied with fruit, which was to be esteemed very good
provision for any one in my condition.
In process of time, while poking among the sand with a stick, in quest
of tortoise eggs, which I had heard were laid in the sand, part of
one came up adhering to it; and, on removing the sand, I found nearly
an hundred and fifty, which had not lain long enough to spoil.
Therefore, taking some, I ate them, and strung others on a strip of
palmeto, which being hung up in the sun, became thick and somewhat
hard; so that they were more palatable. After all, they were not very
savoury food, though one, who had nothing but what fell from the
trees, behoved to be content. Tortoises lay their eggs in the sand, in
holes about a foot or a foot and a half deep, and smooth the surface
over them, so that there is no discovering where they lie. According
to the best of my observation, the young are hatched in eighteen or
twenty days, and then immediately take to the water.
Many serpents are on this and the adjacent islands; one, about twelve
or fourteen feet long, is as large as a man's waist, but not
poisonous. When lying at length, they look like old trunks of trees,
covered with short moss, though they usually assume a circular
position. The first time I saw one of these serpents, I had approached
very near before discovering it to be a living creature; it opened its
mouth wide enough to have received a hat, and breathed on me. A small
black fly creates such annoyance, that even if a person possessed ever
so many comforts, his life would be oppressive to him, unless for the
possibility of retiring to some small quay, destitute of wood and
bushes, where multitudes are dispersed by the wind.
To this place then was I confined during nine months, without seeing a
human being. One day after another was lingered out, I know not how,
void of occupation or amusement, except collecting food, rambling from
hill to hill, and from island to island, and gazing on sky and water.
Although my mind was occupied by many regrets, I had the reflection
that I was lawfully employed when taken, so that I had no hand in
bringing misery on myself: I was also comforted to think that I had
the approbation and consent of my parents in going to sea, and trusted
that it would please God, in his own time and manner, to provide for
my return to my father's house. Therefore, I resolved to submit
patiently to my misfortune.
It was my daily practice to ramble from one part of the island to
another, though I had a more special home near the water-side. Here I
built a hut to defend me against the heat of the sun by day, and the
heavy dews by night. Taking some of the best branches which I could
find fallen from the trees, I contrived to fix them against a low
hanging bough, by fastening them together with split palmeto leaves;
next I covered the whole with some of the largest and most suitable
leaves that I could get. Many of these huts were constructed by me,
generally near the beach, with the open part, fronting the sea, to
have the better look-out, and the advantage of the sea-breeze, which
both the heat and the vermin required.
But the insects were so troublesome, that I thought of endeavoring to
get over to some of the adjacent keys, in hopes of enjoying rest.
However, I was, as already said, a very indifferent swimmer; I had no
canoe, nor any means of making one. At length, having got a piece of
bamboo, which is hollow like a reed, and light as cork, I ventured,
after frequent trials with it under my breast and arms, to put off for
a small key about a gun-shot distant, which I reached in safety.
My new place of refuge was only about three or four hundred feet in
circuit, lying very low, and clear of woods and brush; from exposure
to the wind, it was quite free of vermin, and I seemed to have got
into a new world, where I lived infinitely more at ease. Hither I
retired, therefore, when the heat of the day rendered the insect tribe
most obnoxious; yet I was obliged to be much on Roatan, to procure
food and water, and at night on account of my hut.
When swimming back and forward between the two islands, I used to bind
my frock and trowsers about my head, and, if I could have carried over
wood and leaves, whereof to make a hut, with equal facility, I should
have passed more of my time on the smaller one.
Yet these excursions were not unattended with danger. Once, I
remember, when, passing from the larger island, the bamboo, before I
was aware, slipped from under me; and the tide, or current, set down
so strong, that it was with great difficulty I could reach the shore.
At another time, when swimming over to the small island, a
shovel-nosed shark, which, as well as alligators, abound in those
seas, struck me in the thigh, just as my foot could reach the bottom,
and grounded itself, from the shallowness of the water, as I suppose,
so that its mouth could not get round towards me. The blow I felt some
hours after making the shore. By repeated practice, I at length became
a pretty dexterous swimmer, and amused myself by passing from one
island to another, among the keys.
I suffered very much from being barefoot; so many deep wounds were
made in my feet from traversing the woods, where the ground was
covered with sticks and stones, and on the hot beach, over sharp
broken shells, that I was scarce able to walk at all. Often, when
treading with all possible caution, a stone or shell on the beach, or
a pointed stick in the woods, would penetrate the old wound, and the
extreme anguish would strike me down as suddenly as if I had been
shot. Then I would remain, for hours together, with tears gushing from
my eyes, from the acuteness of the pain. I could travel no more than
absolute necessity compelled me, in quest of subsistence; and I have
sat, my back leaning against a tree, looking out for a vessel during a
complete day.
Once, while faint from such injuries, as well as smarting under the
pain of them, a wild boar rushed towards me. I knew not what to do,
for I had not strength to resist his attack; therefore, as he drew
nearer, I caught the bough of a tree, and suspended myself by means of
it. The boar tore away part of my ragged trowsers with his tusks, and
then left me. This, I think, was the only time that I was attacked by
any wild beast, and I considered myself to have had a very great
deliverance.
As my weakness continued to increase, I often fell to the ground
insensible, and then, as also when I laid myself to sleep, I thought I
should never awake again, or rise in life. Under this affliction I
first lost count of the days of the week; I could not distinguish
Sunday, and, as my illness became more aggravated, I became ignorant
of the month also.
All this time I had no healing balsam for my feet, nor any cordial to
revive my drooping spirits. My utmost efforts could only now and then
procure some figs and grapes. Neither had I fire; for, though I had
heard of a way to procure it by rubbing two sticks together, my
attempts in this respect, continued until I was tired, proved
abortive. The rains having come on, attended with chill winds, I
suffered exceedingly.
While passing nine months in this lonely, melancholy, and irksome
condition, my thoughts would sometimes wander to my parents; and I
reflected, that, notwithstanding it would be consolatory to myself if
they knew where I was it might be distressing to them. The nearer my
prospect of death, which I often expected, the greater my penitence
became.
Sometime in November 1723, I descried a small canoe approaching with a
single man; but the sight excited little emotion. I kept my seat on
the beach, thinking I could not expect a friend, and knowing that I
had no enemy to fear, nor was I capable of resisting one. As the man
approached, he betrayed many signs of surprise; he called me to him,
and I told him he might safely venture ashore, for I was alone, and
almost expiring. Coming close up, he knew not what to make of me; my
garb and countenance seemed so singular, that he looked wild with
astonishment. He started back a little, and surveyed me more
thoroughly; but, recovering himself again, came forward, and, taking
me by the hand, expressed his satisfaction at seeing me.
This stranger proved to be a native of North Britain; he was well
advanced in years, of a grave and venerable aspect, and of a reserved
temper. His name I never knew, he did not disclose it, and I had not
inquired during the period of our acquaintance. But he informed me he
had lived twenty-two years with the Spaniards who now threatened to
burn him, though I know not for what crime; therefore he had fled
hither as a sanctuary, bringing his dog, gun, and ammunition, as also
a small quantity of pork, along with him. He designed spending the
remainder of his days on the island, where he could support himself by
hunting.
I experienced much kindness from the stranger; he was always ready to
perform any civil offices, and assist me in whatever he could, though
he spoke little: and he gave me a share of his pork.
On the third day after his arrival, he said he would make an excursion
in his canoe among the neighboring islands, for the purpose of killing
wild-hogs and deer, and wished me to accompany him. Though my spirits
were somewhat recruited by his society, the benefit of the fire, which
I now enjoyed, and dressed provisions, my weakness and the soreness of
my feet, precluded me; therefore he set out alone, saying he would
return in a few hours. The sky was serene, and there was no prospect
of any danger during a short excursion, seeing he had come nearly
twelve leagues in safety in his canoe. But, when he had been absent
about an hour, a violent gust of wind and rain arose, in which he
probably perished, as I never heard of him more.
Thus, after having the pleasure of a companion almost three days, I
was as unexpectedly reduced to my former lonely state, as I had been
relieved from it. Yet through the goodness of God, I was myself
preserved from having been unable to accompany him; and I was left in
better circumstances than those in which he had found me, for now I
had about five pounds of pork, a knife, a bottle of gunpowder,
tobacco, tongs and flint, by which means my life could be rendered
more comfortable. I was enabled to have fire, extremely requisite at
this time, being the rainy months of winter. I could cut up a
tortoise, and have a delicate broiled meal.--Thus, by the help of the
fire, and dressed provisions, through the blessings of God, I began to
recover strength, though the soreness of my feet remained. But I had,
besides, the advantage of being able now and then to catch a dish of
cray-fish, which, when roasted, proved good eating. To accomplish this
I made up a small bundle of old broken sticks, nearly resembling
pitch-pine, or candle-wood, and having lighted one end, waded with it
in my hand, up to the waist in water. The cray-fish, attracted by the
light, would crawl to my feet, and lie directly under it, when, by
means of a forked stick, I could toss them ashore.
Between two and three months after the time of losing my companion, I
found a small canoe, while ranging along the shore. The sight of it
revived my regret for his loss, for I judged that it had been his
canoe; and, from being washed up here, a certain proof of his having
been lost in the tempest. But, on examining it more closely, I
satisfied myself that it was one which I had never seen before.
Master of this little vessel, I began to think myself admiral of the
neighboring seas, as well as sole possessor and chief commander of the
islands. Profiting by its use, I could transport myself to the places
of retreat more conveniently than by my former expedient of swimming.
In process of time, I projected an excursion to some of the larger and
more distant islands, partly to learn how they were stored or
inhabited, and partly for the sake of amusement.--Laying in a small
stock of figs and grapes, therefore, as also some tortoise to eat, and
carrying my implements for fire, I put off to steer for the island of
Bornacco, which is about four or five leagues long, and situated five
or six from Roatan.
In the course of the voyage, observing a sloop at the east end of the
island, I made the best of my way to the west, designing to travel
down by land, both because a point of rocks ran far into the sea,
beyond which I did not care to venture in the canoe, as was necessary
to come a-head of the sloop, and because I wished to ascertain
something concerning her people before I was discovered. Even in my
worst circumstances, I never could brook the thoughts of returning on
board of any piratical vessel, and resolved rather to live and die in
my present situation. Hauling up the canoe, and making it fast as well
as I was able, I set out on the journey. My feet were yet in such a
state, that two days, and the best part of two nights were occupied in
it. Sometimes the woods and bushes were so thick that it was necessary
to crawl half a mile together on my hands and knees, which rendered my
progress very slow.
When within a mile or two of the place where I supposed the sloop
might be, I made for the water side, and approached the sea gradually,
that I might not too soon disclose myself to view; however, on
reaching the beach, there was no appearance of the sloop, whence I
judged that she had sailed during the time spent by me in travelling.
Being much fatigued with the journey, I rested myself against the
stump of a tree, with my face towards the sea, where sleep overpowered
me. But I had not slumbered long before I was suddenly awakened by the
noise of firing.--Starting up in affright, I saw nine periaguas, or
large canoes, full of men, firing upon me from the sea; whence I soon
turned about and ran among the bushes as fast as my sore feet would
allow, while the men, who were Spaniards, cried after me, "O
Englishman, we will give you good quarter." However, my astonishment
was so great, and I was so suddenly roused from my sleep, that I had
no self-command to listen to their offers of quarter, which, it may
be, at another time, in my cooler moments, I might have done. Thus I
made into the woods, and the strangers continued firing after me, to
the number of 150 bullets at least, many of which cut small twigs off
the bushes close by my side. Having gained an extensive thicket beyond
reach of the shot, I lay close several hours, until observing, by the
sound of their oars, that the Spaniards were departing, I crept out. I
saw the sloop under English colors sailing away with the canoes in
tow, which induced me to suppose she was an English vessel which had
been at the Bay of Honduras, and taken there by the Spaniards.
Next day I returned to the tree, where I had been so nearly surprised,
and was astonished to find six or seven shot in the trunk, within a
foot or less of my head. Yet through the wonderful goodness of God,
though having been as a mark to shoot at, I was preserved.
After this I travelled to recover my canoe at the western end of the
island, which I reached in three days, but suffering severely from the
soreness of my feet, and the scantiness of provisions. This island is
not so plentifully stored as Roatan, so that during the five or six
days of my residence, I had difficulty in procuring subsistence; and
the insects were, besides, infinitely more numerous and harassing than
at my old habitation. These circumstances deterred me from further
exploring the island; and having reached the canoe very tired and
exhausted, I put off for Roatan, which was a royal palace to me,
compared with Bonacco, and arrived at night in safety.
Here I lived, if it may be called living, alone for about seven
months, after losing my North British companion.--My time was spent in
the usual manner, hunting for food, and ranging among the islands.
Some time in June 1724, while on the small quay, whither I often
retreated to be free from the annoyance of insects, I saw two canoes
making for the harbor. Approaching nearer, they observed the smoke of
a fire which I had kindled, and at a loss to know what it meant, they
hesitated on advancing.--What I had experienced at Bonacco, was still
fresh in my own memory, and loth to run the risk of such another
firing, I withdrew to my canoe, lying behind the quay, not above 100
yards distant, and immediately rowed over to Roatan. There I had
places of safety against an enemy, and sufficient accommodation for
any ordinary number of friends.
The people in the canoes observed me cross the sea to Roatan, the
passage not exceeding a gun-shot over; and being as much afraid of
pirates as I was of Spaniards, approached very cautiously towards the
shore. I then came down to the beach, shewing myself openly; for their
conduct led me to think that they could not be pirates, and I resolved
before being exposed to the danger of their shot, to inquire who they
were. If they proved such as I did not like, I could easily retire.
But before I spoke, they, as full of apprehension as I could be, lay
on their oars, and demanded who I was, and from whence I came? to
which I replied, "that I was an Englishman, and had run away from
pirates." On this they drew somewhat nearer, inquiring who was there
besides myself? when I assured them, in return, that I was alone.
Next, according to my original purpose, having put similar questions
to them, they said they had come from the Bay of Honduras; their words
encouraged me to bid them row ashore, which they accordingly did,
though at some distance, and one man landed, whom I advanced to meet.
But he started back at the sight of a poor ragged, wild, forlorn,
miserable object so near him. Collecting himself, however, he took me
by the hand, and we began embracing each other, he from surprise and
wonder, and I from a sort of ecstacy of joy. When this was over, he
took me in his arms, and carried me down to the canoes, when all his
comrades were struck with astonishment at my appearance; but they
gladly received me, and I experienced great tenderness from them.
I gave the strangers a brief account of my escape from Low, and my
lonely residence for sixteen months, all excepting three days, the
hardships I had suffered, and the dangers to which I had been exposed.
They stood amazed at the recital; they wondered I was alive, and
expressed much satisfaction at being able to relieve me. Observing me
very weak and depressed, they gave me about a spoonful of rum to
recruit my fainting spirits; but even this small quantity, from my
long disuse of strong liquors, threw me into violent agitation, and
produced a kind of stupor, which at last ended in privation of sense.
Some of the party perceiving a state of insensibility come on, would
have administered more rum, which those better skilled among them
prevented; and after lying a short time in a fit, I revived.
Then I ascertained, that the strangers were eighteen in number, the
chief of them named John Hope, an old man, called Father Hope, by his
companions, and John Ford, and all belonging to the Bay of Honduras.
The cause of their coming hither, was an alarm for an attack from the
sea, by the Spaniards, while the Indians should make a descent by
land, and cut off the Bay; thus they had fled for safety. On a former
occasion, the two persons above named, had for the like reason, taken
shelter among these islands, and lived four years at a time on a small
one, named Barbarat, about two leagues from Roatan. There they had two
plantations, as they called them; and now they brought two barrels of
flour, with other provisions, fire-arms, dogs for hunting and nets for
tortoises; and also an Indian woman to dress their provisions. Their
principal residence was a small key, about a quarter of a mile round,
lying near to Barbarat, and named by them the Castle of Comfort,
chiefly because it was low and clear of woods and bushes, so that the
free circulation of wind could drive away the pestiferous musquitoes
and other insects. From hence they sent to the surrounding islands for
wood, water and materials to build two houses, such as they were, for
shelter.
I now had the prospect of a much more agreeable life than what I had
spent during the sixteen months past; for, besides having company, the
strangers treated me with a great deal of civility in their way; they
clothed me, and gave me a large wrapping gown as a defence against the
nightly dews, until their houses were erected; and there was plenty of
provisions. Yet after all, they were bad society; and as to their
common conversation, there was but little difference between them and
pirates. However, it did not appear that they were now engaged in any
such evil design as rendered it unlawful to join them, or be found in
their company.
In process of time, and with the assistance afforded by my companions,
I gathered so much strength as sometimes to be able to hunt along with
them. The islands abounded with wild hogs, deer and tortoise; and
different ones were visited in quest of game. This was brought home,
where, instead of being immediately consumed, it was hung up to dry in
smoke, so as to be a ready supply at all times.
I now considered myself beyond the reach of danger from an enemy, for,
independent of supposing that nothing could bring any one here, I was
surrounded by a number of men with arms constantly in their hands.
Yet, at the very time that I thought myself most secure, I was very
nearly again falling into the hands of pirates.
Six or seven months after the strangers joined me, three of them,
along with myself, took a four oared canoe, for the purpose of hunting
and killing tortoise on Bonacco. During our absence the rest repaired
their canoes, and prepared to go over to the Bay of Honduras, to
examine how matters stood there, and bring off their remaining
effects, in case it were dangerous to return. But before they had
departed, we were on our voyage homewards, having a full load of pork
and tortoise, as our object was successfully accomplished. While
entering the mouth of the harbor, in a moonlight evening, we saw a
great flash, and heard a report much louder than that of a musket,
proceed from a large periagua, which we observed near the Castle of
Comfort. This put us in extreme consternation, and we knew not what to
consider; but in a minute we heard a volley from eighteen or twenty
small arms, discharged towards the shore, and also some returned from
it.--Satisfied that an enemy, either Spaniards or pirates, was
attacking our people, and being intercepted from them by periaguas
lying between us and the shore, we thought the safest plan was trying
to escape. Therefore, taking down our little mast and sail, that they
might not betray us, we rowed out of the harbor as fast as possible,
towards an island about a mile and a half distant, to retreat
undiscovered. But the enemy either having seen us before lowering our
sail, or heard the noise of the oars, followed with all speed, in an
eight or ten oared periagua. Observing her approach, and fast gaining
on us, we rowed with all our might to make the nearest shore. However,
she was at length enabled to discharge a swivel, the shot from which
passed over our canoe. Nevertheless, we contrived to reach the shore
before being completely within the range of small arms, which our
pursuers discharged on us while landing.
They were now near enough to cry aloud that they were pirates, and not
Spaniards, and that we need not dread them, as we should get good
quarter; thence supposing that we should be the easier induced to
surrender. Yet nothing could have been said to discourage me more from
putting myself in their power; I had the utmost dread of a pirate, and
my original aversion was now enhanced, by the apprehension of being
sacrificed for my former desertion. Thus, concluding to keep as clear
of them as I could, and the Honduras Bay men having no great
inclination to do otherwise, we made the best of our way to the woods.
Our pursuers carried off the canoe, with all its contents, resolving,
if we would not go to them, to deprive us, as far as possible, of all
means of subsistence where we were. But it gave me, who had known both
want and solitude, little concern, now that I had company, and there
were arms among us to procure provision, and also fire wherewith to
dress it.
Our assailants were some men belonging to Spriggs, my former
commander, who had thrown off his allegiance to Low, and set up for
himself at the head of a gang of pirates, with a good ship of
twenty-four guns, and a sloop of twelve, both presently lying in
Roatan harbor. He had put in for fresh water, and to refit, at the
place where I first escaped; and, having discovered my companions at
the small island of their retreat, sent a periagua full of men to take
them. Accordingly they carried all ashore, as also a child and an
Indian woman; the last of whom they shamefully abused. They killed a
man after landing, and throwing him into one of the canoes containing
tar, set it on fire, and burnt his body in it.--Then they carried the
people on board of their vessels, where they were barbarously treated.
One of them turned pirate however, and told the others that John Hope
had hid many things in the woods; therefore, they beat him
unmercifully to make him disclose his treasure, which they carried
off with them.
After the pirates had kept these people five days on board of their
vessels, they gave them a flat of five or six tons to carry them to
the Bay of Honduras, but no kind of provision for the voyage; and
further, before dismissal, compelled them to swear that they would not
come near me and my party, who had escaped to another island.
While the vessels rode in the harbor, we kept a good look out, but
were exposed to some difficulties, from not daring to kindle a fire to
dress our victuals, lest our residence should be betrayed. Thus we
lived for five days on raw provisions.--As soon as they sailed,
however, Hope, little regarding the oath extorted from him, came and
informed us of what had passed; and I could not, for my own part, be
sufficiently grateful to Providence for escaping the hands of the
pirates, who would have put me to a cruel death.
Hope and all his people, except John Symonds, now resolved to make
their way to the Bay. Symonds, who had a negro, wished to remain some
time for the purpose of trading with the Jamaica-men on the main. But
thinking my best chance of getting to New England was from the Bay of
Honduras, I requested Hope to take me with him. The old man, though he
would gladly have done so, advanced many objections, such as the
insufficiency of the flat to carry so many men seventy leagues; that
they had no provision for the passage, which might be tedious, and the
flat was, besides ill calculated to stand the sea; as also, that it
was uncertain how matters might turn out at the Bay; thus he thought
it better for me to remain; yet rather than I should be in solitude,
he would take me in.
Symonds, on the other hand, urged me to stay and bear him company, and
gave several reasons why I should more likely obtain a passage from
the Jamaica-men to New England, than by the Bay of Honduras. As this
seemed a fairer prospect of reaching my home, which I was extremely
anxious to do, I assented; and, having thanked Hope and his companions
for their civilities, I took leave of them, and they departed.
Symonds was provided with a canoe, fire-arms and two dogs, in addition
to his negro, by which means he felt confident of being able to
provide all that was necessary for our subsistence. We spent two or
three months after the usual manner, ranging from island to island,
but the prevalence of the winter rains precluded us from obtaining
more game than we required.
When the season for the Jamaica traders approached, Symonds proposed
repairing to some other island to obtain a quantity of tortoise-shell
which he could exchange for clothes and shoes; and, being successful
in this respect, we next proceeded to Bonacco, which lies nearer the
main, that we might thence take a favorable opportunity to run over.
Having been a short time at Bonacco, a furious tempest arose, and
continued for three days, when we saw several vessels standing in for
the harbor. The largest of them anchored at a great distance, but a
brigantine came over the shoals opposite to the watering place, and
sent her boat ashore with casks. Recognizing three people who were in
the boat, their dress and appearance, for Englishmen, I concluded they
were friends, and shewed myself openly on the beach before them. They
ceased rowing immediately on observing me, and, after answering their
inquiries of who I was, I put the same questions, saying they might
come ashore with safety. They did so, and a happy meeting it was for
me.
I now found that the vessels were a fleet under convoy of the Diamond
man-of-war, bound for Jamaica; but many ships had parted company in
the storm. The Diamond had sent in the brigantine to get water here,
as the sickness of her crew had occasioned a great consumption of that
necessary article.
Symonds, who had kept at a distance, lest the three men might hesitate
to come ashore, at length approached to participate in my joy, though
at the same time, testifying considerable reluctance at the prospect
of my leaving him. The brigantine was commanded by Captain Dove, with
whom I was acquainted, and she belonged to Salem, within three miles
of my father's house. Captain Dove not only treated me with great
civility, and engaged to give me a passage home, but took me into pay,
having lost a seaman, whose place he wanted me to supply. Next day,
the Diamond having sent her long-boat with casks for water, they were
filled; and after taking leave of Symonds, who shed tears at parting,
I was carried on board of the brigantine.
We sailed along with the Diamond, which was bound for Jamaica, on the
latter end of March 1725, and kept company until the first of April.
By the providence of Heaven we passed safely through the Gulf of
Florida, and reached Salem Harbor on the first of May, two years, ten
months and fifteen days after I was first taken by pirates; and two
years, and two months, after making my escape from them on Roatan
island. That same evening I went to my father's house, where I was
received as one risen from the dead.
EXPLOSION OF HIS B. MAJESTY'S SHIP AMPHION.
The Amphion frigate, Captain Israel Pellow, after having cruised some
time in the North Seas, had at length received an order to join the
squadron of frigates commanded by Sir Edward Pellow. She was on her
passage, when a hard gale of wind occasioning some injury to the
fore-mast, obliged her to put back into Plymouth, off which place she
then was.--She accordingly came into the sound, anchored there on the
19th, and went up into harbor the next morning.
On the 22d, at about half past four P. M. a violent shock, as of an
earthquake, was felt at Stone-house, and extended as far off as the
Royal Hospital and the town of Plymouth.--The sky towards the Dock
appeared red, like the effect of a fire; for near a quarter of an hour
the cause of this appearance could not be ascertained, though the
streets were crowded with people running different ways in the utmost
consternation.
When the alarm and confusion had somewhat subsided, it first began to
be known that the shock had been occasioned by the explosion of the
Amphion. Several bodies and mangled remains were picked up by the
boats in Hamoaze; and their alacrity on this occasion was particularly
remarked and highly commended. The few who remained alive of the crew
were conveyed, in a mangled state, to the Royal Hospital. As the
frigate was originally manned from Plymouth the friends and relations
of her unfortunate ship's company mostly lived in the neighborhood.
It is dreadful to relate what a scene took place--arms, legs and
lifeless trunks, mangled and disfigured by gunpowder, were collected
and deposited at the hospital, having been brought in sacks to be
owned. Bodies still living, some with the loss of limbs, others having
expired as they were being conveyed thither; men, women and children,
whose sons, husbands and fathers were among the unhappy number,
flocking round the gates, intreating admittance. During the first
evening nothing was ascertained concerning the cause of this event,
though numerous reports were instantly circulated. The few survivors,
who, by the following day, had, in some degree regained the use of
their senses, could not give the least account. One man who was
brought alive to the Royal Hospital, died before night, another before
the following morning; the boatswain and one of the sailors appeared
likely, with great care, to do well.--Three or four men who were at
work in the tops, were blown up with them and falling into the water,
were picked up with very little hurt. These, with the two before
mentioned, and one of the sailors' wives, were supposed to be the only
survivors, besides the captain and two of the lieutenants.
The following particulars were, however, collected from the
examination of several persons before Sir Richard King, the
port-admiral, and the information procured from those, who saw the
explosion from the Dock.
The first person known to have observed any thing was a young
midshipman in the Cambridge guard-ship, lying not far distant from the
place where the Amphion blew up; who having a great desire to observe
every thing relative to a profession into which he had just entered,
was looking through a glass at the frigate, as she lay along side of
the sheer-hulk, and was taking in her bowsprit. She was lashed to the
hulk; and the Yarmouth, an old receiving ship, was lying on the
opposite side, quite close to her, and both within a few yards of the
Dock-yard jetty. The midshipman said, that the Amphion suddenly
appeared to rise altogether upright from the surface of the water,
until he nearly saw her keel; the explosion then succeeded; the masts
seemed to be forced up into the air, and the hull instantly to sink.
All this passed in the space of two minutes.
The man who stood at the Dock-yard stairs, said, that the first he
heard of it was a kind of hissing noise, and then followed the
explosion, when he beheld the masts blown up into the air. It was very
strongly reported that several windows were broken in the Dock by the
explosion, and that in the Dock-yard much mischief was done by the
Amphion's guns going off when she blew up; but though the shock was
felt as far off as Plymouth, and at Stone-house, enough to shake the
windows, yet it is a wonderful and miraculous fact, that surrounded as
she was in the harbor, with ships close along side of the jetty, and
lashed to another vessel, no damage was done to any thing but herself.
It is dreadful to reflect, that owing to their intention of putting to
sea the next day, there were nearly one hundred men, women and
children, more than her complement on board, taking leave of their
friends, besides the company who were at two dinners given in the
ship, one of which was by the captain.
Captain Israel Pellow, and Captain William Swaffield, of his Majesty's
ship Overyssel, who was at dinner with him and the first lieutenant,
were drinking their wine; when the first explosion threw them off
their seats, and struck them against the carlings of the upper deck,
so as to stun them. Captain Pellow, however, had sufficient presence
of mind to fly to the cabin windows, and seeing the two hawsers, one
slack in the bit and the other taut, threw himself with an amazing
leap, which he afterwards said, nothing but his sense of danger could
have enabled him to take, upon the latter, and by that means saved
himself from the general destruction, though his face had been badly
cut against the carlings, when he was thrown from his seat. The first
lieutenant saved himself in the same manner, by jumping out of the
window, and by being also a remarkable good swimmer; but Captain
Swaffield, being, as it was supposed, more stunned, did not
escape.--His body was found on the twenty-second of October, with his
skull fractured, appearing to have been crushed between the sides of
two vessels.
The centinel at the cabin door happened to be looking at his watch;
how he escaped no one can tell, not even himself. He was, however,
brought on shore, and but little hurt; the first thing he felt was,
that his watch was dashed out of his hands, after which he was no
longer sensible of what happened to him. The boatswain was standing on
the cat-head, the bowsprit had been stepped for three hours; the
gammoning and every thing on; and he was directing the men in rigging
out the jib-boom, when suddenly he felt himself driven upwards and
fell into the sea. He then perceived that he was entangled in the
rigging, and had some trouble to get clear, when being taken up by a
boat belonging to one of the men of war, they found that his arm was
broken. One of the surviving seamen declared to an officer of rank,
that he was preserved in the following truly astonishing manner:--He
was below at the time the Amphion blew up, and went to the bottom of
the ship, he recollected that he had a knife in his pocket, and taking
it out, cut his way through the companion of the gun-room, which was
already shattered with the explosion; then letting himself up to the
surface of the water, he swam unhurt to the shore. He shewed his knife
to the officer, and declared he had been under water full five
minutes.
It was likewise said, that one of the sailors' wives had a young child
in her arms; the fright of the shock made her take such fast hold of
it, that though the upper part of her body alone remained, the child
was found alive locked fast in her arms, and likely to do well.
Mr. Spry, an auctioneer, who had long lived in great respectability at
Dock, with his son and god-son, had gone on board to visit a friend,
and were all lost.
About half an hour before the frigate blew up, one of her lieutenants,
and Lieutenant Campbell of the marines and some of the men got into
the boat at the dock-yard stairs, and went off to the ship. Lieutenant
Campbell had some business to transact at the Marine barracks in the
morning, and continuing there some time, was engaged by the officers
to stay to dinner and spend the evening with them. Some persons,
however, who had, in the interval, come from the Amphion, informed
Lieutenant Campbell that there were some letters on board for him. As
they were some which he was extremely anxious to receive, he left the
barracks about half an hour before dinner to fetch them, intending to
return immediately; but while he was on board the ship blew up.--He
was a young man universally respected end lamented by the corps, as
well as by all who knew him. One of the lieutenants who lost his life
was the only support of an aged mother and sister, who, at his death,
had neither friend nor relation left to comfort and protect them. The
number of people who were afterwards daily seen at Dock, in deep
mourning for their lost relatives, was truly melancholy.
Captain Pellow was taken up by the boats and carried to Commissioner
Fanshaw's house in the dock-yard, very weak with the exertions he had
made, and so shocked with the distressing cause of them, that he at
first appeared scarcely to know where he was, or to be sensible of his
situation. In the course of a day or two, when he was a little
recovered, he was removed to the house of a friend, Dr. Hawker of
Plymouth.
Sir Richard King had given a public dinner in honor of the coronation.
Captain Charles Rowley, of the Unite frigate, calling in the morning,
was engaged to stay, and excused himself from dining, as he had
previously intended, on board the Amphion.
Captain Darby of the Bellerophon, was also to have dined with Captain
Pellow, and had come round in his boat from Cawsand Bay; but having to
transact some business concerning the ship with Sir Richard King, it
detained him half an hour longer at Stone-house than he expected. He
had just gone down to the beach and was stepping into the boat to
proceed up to Hamoaze, when he heard the fatal explosion. Captain
Swaffield was to have sailed the next day, so that the difference of
twenty-four hours would have saved that much lamented and truly
valuable officer. His brother Mr. J. Swaffield, of the Pay-Office,
being asked to the same dinner, had set off with him from Stone-house,
but before he had reached Dock a person came after him upon business,
which obliged him to return, and thus saved him from sharing his
brother's untimely fate.
Many conjectures were formed concerning the cause of this catastrophe.
Some conceived it to be owing to neglect, as the men were employed in
drawing the guns, and contrary to rule, had not extinguished all the
fires, though the dinners were over. This, however, the first
lieutenant declared to be impossible, as they could not be drawing the
guns, the key of the magazine hanging, to his certain knowledge, in
his cabin at the time. Some of the men likewise declared that the guns
were drawn in the Sound before they came up Hamoaze. It was also
insinuated, that it was done intentionally, as several of the bodies
were afterwards found without clothes, as if they had prepared to jump
overboard before the ship could have time to blow up. As no mutiny had
ever appeared in the ship, it seems unlikely that such a desperate
plot should have been formed, without any one who survived having the
least knowledge of it. It is, besides, a well known fact, that in
almost every case of shipwreck where there is a chance of plunder,
there are wretches so destitute of the common feelings of humanity as
to hover round the scene of horror, in hopes, by stripping the bodies
of the dead, and seizing whatever they can lay their hands on, to
benefit themselves.
It was the fore magazine which took fire; had it been the after one,
much more damage must have ensued. The moment the explosion was heard,
Sir Richard King arose from dinner, and went in his boat on board the
hulk, where the sight he beheld was dreadful; the deck covered with
blood, mangled limbs and entrails blackened with gunpowder, the shreds
of the Amphion's pendant and rigging hanging about her, and pieces of
her shattered timbers strewed all around. Some people at dinner in the
Yarmouth, though at a very small distance, declared that the report
they heard did not appear to be louder than the firing of a cannon
from the Cambridge, which they imagined it to be, and had never risen
from dinner, till the confusion upon deck led them to think that some
accident had happened.
At low water, the next day, about a foot and a half of one of the
masts appeared above water; and for several days the dock-yard men
were employed in collecting the shattered masts and yards, and
dragging out what they could procure from the wreck. On the
twenty-ninth, part of the fore-chains was hauled, shattered and
splintered, also the head and cut-water.
On the 3d of October an attempt was made to raise the Amphion,
between the two frigates, the Castor and Iphigenia, which were
accordingly moored on each side of her; but nothing could be got up,
excepting a few pieces of the ship, one or two of her guns, some of
the men's chests, chairs, and part of the furniture of the cabin.
Some bodies floated out from between decks, and among the rest a
midshipman's.--These, and all that could be found, were towed round
by boats through Stone-house bridge up to the Royal Hospital stairs,
to be interred in the burying ground. The sight for many weeks was
truly dreadful, the change of tide, washing out the putrid bodies,
which were towed round by the boats when they would scarcely hold
together.
Bodies continued to be found so late as the 30th of November, when the
Amphion having been dragged round to another part of the dock-yard
jetty to be broken up, the body of a woman was washed out from between
decks. A sack was also dragged up, containing gunpowder, covered over
at the top with biscuit, and this in some measure, confirmed an idea
which had before gained ground, that the gunner had been stealing
powder to sell, and had concealed what he could get out by degrees in
the above manner; and that, thinking himself safe on a day when every
one was entertaining his friends he had carelessly been among the
gunpowder without taking the necessary precautions. As he was said to
have been seen at Dock very much in liquor in the morning, it seems
probable that this might have been the cause of a calamity as sudden
as it was dreadful.
LOSS OF H. B. M. SHIP LA TRIBUNE,
OFF HALIFAX, NOVA SCOTIA.
La Tribune was one of the finest frigates in his Majesty's navy,
mounted 44 guns, and had recently been taken from the French by
Captain Williams in the Unicorn frigate.--She was commanded by Captain
S. Barker, and on the 22d of September, 1797, sailed from Torbay as
convoy to the Quebec and Newfoundland fleets. In latitude 49 14 and
longitude 17 22, she fell in and spoke with his Majesty's ship
Experiment, from Halifax; and lost sight of all her convoy on the 10th
of October, in latitude 74 16 and longitude 32 11.
About eight o'clock in the morning of the following Thursday they came
in sight of the harbor of Halifax, and approached it very fast, with
an E. S. E. wind, when Captain Barker proposed to the master to lay
the ship to, till they could procure a pilot. The master replied that
he had beat a 44 gun ship into the harbor, that he had frequently been
there, and there was no occasion for a pilot, as the wind was
favorable. Confiding in these assurances, Captain Barker went into his
cabin, where he was employed in arranging some papers which he
intended to take on shore with him. In the mean time the master,
placing great dependance on the judgment of a negro, named John Cosey,
who had formerly belonged to Halifax, took upon himself the pilotage
of the ship.
By twelve o'clock the ship approached so near the Thrum Cap shoals
that the master became alarmed, and sent for Mr. Galvin, master's
mate, who was sick below. On his coming upon deck, he heard the man in
the chains sing out, "by the mark five!" the black man forward at the
same time crying "steady!" Galvin got on one of the carronades to
observe the situation of the ship; the master ran in great agitation
to the wheel, and took it from the man who was steering, with the
intention of wearing the ship; but before this could be effected, or
Galvin was able to give an opinion, she struck.--Captain Barker
immediately went on deck and reproached the master with having lost
the ship. Seeing Galvin likewise on deck, he addressed him and said
"that, knowing he had formerly sailed out of the harbor, he was
surprised he could stand by and see the master run the ship on shore,"
to which Galvin replied "that he had not been on deck long enough to
give an opinion."
Signals of distress were immediately made, and answered by the
military posts and ships in the harbor, from which, as well as the
dock-yard, boats immediately put off to the relief of the Tribune. The
military boats, and one of those from the dock-yard, with Mr. Rackum,
boatswain of the ordinary, reached the ship, but the wind was so much
against the others, that, in spite of all their exertions, they were
unable to get on board. The ship was immediately lightened by throwing
overboard all her guns, excepting one retained for signals, and every
other heavy article, so that about half past eight o'clock in the
evening the ship began to heave, and at nine got off the shoals. She
had lost her rudder about three hours before, and it was now found, on
examination, that she had seven feet water in the hold. The
chain-pumps were immediately manned, and such exertions were made that
they seemed to gain on the leaks. By the advice of Mr. Rackum, the
captain ordered the best bower anchor to be let go, but this did not
bring her up. He then ordered the cable to be cut; and the jib and
fore-top-mast stay-sail were hoisted to steer by. During this interval
a violent gale, which had come on at S. E. kept increasing, and
carrying the ship to the western shore. The small bower anchor which
soon afterwards let go, at which time they found themselves in
thirteen fathom of water, and the mizen-mast was then cut away.
It was now ten o'clock, and as the water gained fast upon them, the
crew had but little hope left of saving either the ship or their
lives. At this critical period Lieutenant Campbell quitted the ship,
and Lieutenant North was taken into the boat out of one of the ports.
From the moment at which the former left the vessel all hopes of
safety had vanished; the ship was sinking fast, the storm was
increasing with redoubled violence, and the rocky shore which they
were approaching, resounded with the tremendous noise of the rolling
billows, presented nothing to those who might survive the loss of the
ship but the expectation of a more painful death, by being dashed
against precipices, which, even in the calmest day, it is impossible
to ascend. Dunlap, one of the survivors, declared, that about half
past ten, as nearly as he could conjecture, one of the men who had
been below, came to him on the forecastle, and told him it was all
over. A few minutes afterwards the ship took a lurch, like a boat
nearly filled with water and going down; on which Dunlap immediately
began to ascend the fore-shrouds, and at the same moment casting his
eyes towards the quarter-deck, he saw Captain Barker standing by the
gangway, and looking into the water, and directly afterwards he heard
him call for the jolly-boat. He then saw the lieutenant of marines
running towards the taffrel, to look, as he supposed, for the
jolly-boat, which had been previously let down with men in her; but
the ship instantly took a second lurch and sunk to the bottom, after
which neither the captain nor any of the other officers were again
seen.
The scene, before sufficiently distressing, now became peculiarly
awful. More than 240 men, besides several women and children, were
floating on the waves, making the last effort to preserve life.
Dunlap, who has been already mentioned, gained the fore-top. Mr.
Galvin, the master's mate, with incredible difficulty, got into the
main-top. He was below when the ship sunk, directing the men at the
chain-pump, but was washed up the hatchway, thrown into the waist and
from thence into the water, and his feet, as he plunged, struck
against a rock. On ascending he swam to gain the main-shrouds, when
three men suddenly seized hold of him. He now gave himself up for
lost; but to disengage himself from them he made a dive into the
water, which caused them to quit their grasp. On rising again he swam
to the shrouds, and having reached the main-top, seated himself on an
arm chest which was lashed to the mast.
From the observations of Galvin in the main-top, and Dunlap in the
fore-top, it appears that nearly one hundred persons were hanging a
considerable time to the shrouds, the tops and other parts of the
wreck. From the length of the night, and the severity of the storm,
nature, however, became exhausted, and during the whole night they
kept dropping off and disappeared. The cries and groans of the
unhappy sufferers, from the bruises many of them had received, and
their hopes of deliverance beginning to fail, were continued through
the night, but as morning approached, in consequence of the few who
then survived, they became extremely feeble.
About twelve o'clock the main-mast gave way; at that time there were
on the main-top and shrouds about forty persons. By the fall of the
mast the whole of these unhappy wretches were again plunged into the
water, and ten only regained the top, which rested on the main-yard,
and the whole remained fast to the ship by some of the rigging. Of the
ten who thus reached the top, four only were alive when morning
appeared. Ten were at that time, alive on the fore-top, but three were
so exhausted, and so helpless, that they were washed away before any
relief arrived; three others perished, and thus only four were, at
last, left alive on the fore-top.
The place where the ship went down was barely three times her length
to the southward of the entrance into Herring Cove. The inhabitants
came down in the night to the point opposite to which the ship sunk,
kept up large fires, and were so near as to converse with the people
on the wreck.
The first exertion that was made for their relief was by a boy
thirteen years old, from Herring Cove, who ventured off in a small
skiff by himself about eleven o'clock the next day. This youth, with
great labor and extreme risk to himself, boldly approached the wreck,
and backed in his little boat so near to the fore-top as to take off
two of the men, for the boat could not with safety hold any more. And
here a trait of generous magnanimity was exhibited, which ought not to
pass unnoticed. Dunlap and another man, named Monro, had throughout
this disastrous night, preserved their strength and spirits in a
greater degree than their unfortunate companions, who they endeavored
to cheer and encourage when they found their spirits sinking. Upon the
arrival of the boat these two might have stepped into it, and thus
have terminated their own sufferings; for their two companions, though
alive, were unable to stir; they lay exhausted on the top, wishing not
to be disturbed, and seemed desirous to perish in that situation.
These generous fellows hesitated not a moment to remain themselves on
the wreck, and to save their unfortunate companions against their
will. They lifted them up, and with the greatest exertion placed them
in the boat, the MANLY BOY rowed them triumphantly to the Cove, and
immediately had them conveyed to a comfortable habitation. After
shaming, by his example, older persons, who had larger boats, he
again put off with his skiff, but with all his efforts he could not
then approach the wreck. His example, however, was soon followed by
four of the crew who had escaped in the Tribune's jolly-boat, and by
some of the boats in the Cove. With their joint exertions, the eight
men were preserved, and these with the four who had saved themselves
in the jolly-boat, were the whole of the survivors of this fine ship's
company.
A circumstance occurred in which that cool thoughtlessness of danger,
which so often distinguishes our British tars, was displayed in such a
striking manner, that it would be inexcusable to omit it. Daniel
Monro, had, as we have already seen, gained the fore-top. He suddenly
disappeared, and it was concluded that he had been washed away like
many others. After being absent from the top about two hours, he, to
the surprise of Dunlap, who was likewise on the fore-top, raised his
head through the lubber-hole; Dunlap inquiring where he had been, he
told him he had been cruising for a better birth; that after swimming
about the wreck for a considerable time, he had returned to the
fore-shrouds, and crawling in on the catharpins, had actually been
sleeping there more than an hour, and appeared greatly refreshed.
[Illustration]
BURNING OF THE PRINCE,
A FRENCH EAST INDIAMAN.
On the 19th of February 1752, a French East Indiaman, called the
Prince, sailed from Port L'Orient on a voyage outward bound. But soon
afterwards, a sudden shift of wind drove her on a sand bank, where she
was exposed to imminent danger, and heeled so much that the mouths of
the guns lay in the sea. By lightening the ship, however, accompanied
by incessant and laborious exertions, she floated with the rise of the
tide, and, being again carried into port, was completely unloaded, and
underwent a thorough repair.
The voyage was resumed on the 10th of June, with a favorable wind, and
for several weeks, seemed to promise every success that could be
desired.
While in south latitude 8 30, and in 5 west longitude from Paris,
M. de la Fond, one of the lieutenants of the ship, was, just at the
moment of this observation, informed by a seaman, that smoke was
issuing from the main hatchway. The first lieutenant, who had the
keys of the hold, immediately ordered every hatchway to be opened to
ascertain the truth.
But the fact was too soon verified, and, while the captain hastened on
deck from the great cabin, where he sat at dinner, Lieutenant de la
Fond ordered some sails to be dipped in the sea, and the hatches to be
covered with them in order to prevent the access of air, and thus
stifle the fire. He had even intended, as a more effectual measure, to
let in the water between decks to the depth of a foot, but clouds of
smoke issued from the crevices of the hatchways, and the flames gained
more and more by degrees.
Meantime the captain ordered sixty or eighty soldiers under arms, to
restrain any disorder and confusion which might probably ensue; and in
this he was supported by their commander, M. de la Touche, who
exhibited uncommon fortitude on the occasion.
Every one was now employed in procuring water; all the buckets were
filled, the pumps plied, and pipes introduced from them to the hold.
But the rapid progress of the flames baffled the exertions to subdue
them, and augmented the general consternation.
The yawl lying in the way of the people, was hoisted out by order of
the captain, and the boatswain, along with three others took
possession of it. Wanting oars, they were supplied with some by three
men who leaped overboard. Those in the ship, however, desired them to
return, but they exclaimed, that they wanted a rudder, and desired a
rope to be thrown out. However, the progress of the flames soon
shewing them their only alternative for safety, they withdrew from the
ship, and she from the effect of a breeze springing up, passed by.
On board the utmost activity still prevailed, and the courage of the
people seemed to be augmented by the difficulty of escape. The master
boldly went down into the hold, but the intense heat compelled him to
return, and, had not a quantity of water been dashed over him, he
would have been severely scorched. Immediately subsequent to this
period, flames violently burst from the main hatchway.
At that time the captain ordered the boats to be got out, while
consternation enfeebled the most intrepid. The long-boat had been
secured at a certain height, and she was about to be put over the
ship's side, when, unhappily, the fire ran up the main-mast, and
caught the tackle; the boat fell down on the guns, bottom upwards,
and it was vain to think of getting her righted.
At length it became too evident that the calamity was beyond the reach
of human remedy; nothing but the mercy of the Almighty could
interpose; consternation was universally disseminated among the
people; nothing but sighs and groans resounded through the vessel, and
the very animals on board, as if sensible of the impending danger,
uttered the most dreadful cries. The certainty of perishing in either
element was anticipated by every human being here, and each raised his
heart and hands towards Heaven.
The chaplain, who was now on the quarter-deck, gave the people general
absolution for their sins, and then repaired to the quarter-gallery to
extend it yet further, to those miserable wretches, who, in hopes of
safety, had already committed themselves to the waves. What a horrible
spectacle! Self-preservation was the only object; each was occupied in
throwing overboard whatever promised the most slender chance of
escape, yards, spars, hen-coops and everything occurring, was seized
in despair, and thus employed.
Dreadful confusion prevailed. Some leaped into the sea, anticipating
that death which was about to reach them; others, more successful,
swam to fragments of the wreck; while the shrouds, yards and ropes,
along the side of the vessel, were covered with the crew crowding upon
them, and hanging there, as if hesitating which alternative of
destruction to choose, equally imminent and equally terrible.
A father was seen to snatch his son from the flames, fold him to his
breast, and, then throwing him into the sea, himself followed, where
they perished in each other's embrace.
Meantime Lieutenant Fond ordered the helm to be shifted. The ship
heeled to larboard, which afforded a temporary preservation, while the
fire raged along the starboard from stem to stern.
Lieutenant Fond had, until this moment, been engrossed by nothing but
adopting every means to preserve the ship; now, however, the horrors
of impending destruction were too conspicuously in view. His
fortitude, notwithstanding, through the goodness of Heaven, never
forsook him; looking around, he found himself alone on the deck, and
he retired to the round-house. There he met M. de la Touche, who
regarded the approach of death with the same heroism which, in India,
had gained him celebrity. "My brother and friend," he cried,
"farewell."--"Whither are you going?" asked Lieutenant Fond. "To
comfort my friend, the captain," he replied.
M. Morin, who commanded this unfortunate vessel, stood overwhelmed
with grief for the melancholy state of his female relatives,
passengers along with him. He had persuaded them to commit themselves
to the waves on hen-coops, while some of the seamen, swimming with one
hand, endeavored to support them with the other.
The floating masts and yards were covered with men struggling with the
watery element, many of whom now perished by balls discharged from the
guns as heated by the fire, and thus presenting a third means of
destruction, augmenting the horrors environing them. While anguish
pierced the heart of M. de la Fond, he withdrew his eyes from the sea;
and a moment after, reaching the starboard gallery, he saw the flames
bursting with frightful noise through the windows of the round-house
and of the great cabin. The fire approached, and was ready to consume
him. Considering it vain to attempt the further preservation of the
ship, or the lives of his fellow sufferers, he thought it his duty, in
this dreadful condition, to save himself yet a few hours, that these
might be devoted to Heaven.
Stripping off his clothes, he designed slipping down a yard, one end
of which dipped in the water; but it was so covered with miserable
beings, shrinking from death, that he tumbled over them and fell into
the sea. There a drowning soldier caught hold of him. Lieutenant Fond
made every exertion to disengage himself, but in vain; he even allowed
himself to sink below the surface, yet he did not quit his grasp.
Lieutenant Fond plunged down a second time; still he was firmly held
by the man, who then was incapable of considering that his death,
instead of being of service, would rather hasten his own. At last,
after struggling a considerable time, and swallowing a great quantity
of water, the soldier's strength failed; and sensible that M. de la
Fond was sinking a third time, he dreaded to be carried down along
with him, and loosened his grasp, no sooner was this done, than
M. de la Fond to guard against a repetition, dived below the surface,
and rose at a distance from the place.
This incident rendered him more cautious for the future; he even
avoided the dead bodies, now so numerous, that to make a free passage,
he was compelled to shove them aside with one hand, while he kept
himself floating with the other; for he was impressed with the
apprehension, that each was a person who would seize him, and involve
him in his own destruction. But strength beginning to fail, he was
satisfied of the necessity of some respite, when he fell in with part
of the ensign-staff. He put his arm through a noose of the rope to
secure it, and swam as well as he could; then perceiving a yard at
hand, he seized it by one end. However, beholding a young man scarce
able to support himself at the other extremity, he quickly abandoned
so slight an aid, and one which seemed incapable of contributing to
his preservation. Next the spritsail-yard appeared in view, but
covered with people, among whom he durst not take a place without
requesting permission, which they cheerfully granted. Some were quite
naked, others in nothing except their shirts; the pity they expressed
at the situation of M. de la Fond, and his sense of their misfortunes,
exposed his feelings to a severe trial.
Neither Captain Morin, nor M. de la Touche ever quitted the ship, and
were most probably overwhelmed in the catastrophe by which she was
destroyed. But the most dismal spectacle was exhibited on all sides;
the main-mast, consumed below, had been precipitated overboard,
killing some in the fall, and affording a temporary reception to
others. M. de la Fond now observed it covered with people, driven
about by the waves; and at the same time, seeing two seamen buoyed up
by a hen-coop and some planks, desired them to swim to him with the
latter; they did so, accompanied by more of their comrades, and each
taking a plank, which were used for oars, they and he paddled along
upon the yard, until gaining those who had secured themselves on the
main-mast. So many alternations only presented new spectacles of
horror.
The chaplain was at this time on the mast, and from him M. de la Fond
received absolution; two young ladies were also there, whose piety and
resignation were truly consolatory; they were the only survivors of
six, their companions had perished in the flames or in the sea. Eighty
persons had found refuge on the main-mast, who, from the repeated
discharge of cannon from the ship, according to the progress of the
flames, were constantly exposed to destruction. The chaplain, in this
awful condition, by his discourse and example, taught the duty of
resignation. M. de la Fond observing him lose his hold on the mast,
and drop into the sea, lifted him up. "Let me go," said he. "I am
already half drowned, and it is only protracting my sufferings."--"No,
my friend," the lieutenant replied, "when my strength is exhausted,
not till then, we will perish together;" and in his pious presence he
calmly awaited death. After remaining here three hours, he beheld one
of the ladies fall from the mast and perish.--She was too remote to
receive any assistance from him.
But when least in expectation of it, he saw the yawl close at hand, at
five in the afternoon. He cried to the men that he was their
lieutenant, and requested to be allowed to participate in their fate.
His presence was too necessary for them to refuse his solicitations,
they needed a conductor who might guide them to the land; thus they
permitted him to come on board, on condition that he should swim to
the yawl. This was a reasonable stipulation; it was to avoid
approaching the mast, else, the rest actuated by the same desire of
self-preservation, would soon have overloaded the little vessel, and
all would have been buried in a watery grave. M. de la Fond,
therefore, summoning up all his strength and courage, was so happy as
to reach the seamen. In a little time afterwards, the pilot and
master, whom he had left on the mast, followed his example, and
swimming towards the yawl were seen and taken in.
The flames still continued raging in the vessel, and as the yawl was
still endangered by being within half a league of her, she stood a
little to windward. Not long subsequent to this, the fire reached the
magazine; and then to describe the thundering explosion which ensued
is impossible. A thick cloud intercepted the light of the sun, and
amidst the terrific darkness nothing but pieces of flaming timber,
projected aloft into the air, could be seen, threatening to crush to
atoms in their fall, numbers of miserable wretches still struggling
with the agonies of death. Nor were the party in the yawl beyond the
reach of hazard; it was not improbable that some of the fiery
fragments might come down upon them, and precipitate their frail
support to the bottom. Though the Almighty preserved them from that
shocking calamity, they were shocked with the spectacle environing
them. The vessel had now disappeared; the sea, to a great distance,
was covered with pieces of the wreck, intermingled with the bodies of
those unhappy creatures who had perished by their fall. Some were seen
who had been choked, others mangled, half consumed and still retaining
life enough to be sensible of the accumulated horrors overwhelming
them.
The fortitude of M. de la Fond was still preserved, through the
favour of Heaven, and he proposed approaching the wreck, to see
whether any provisions or necessary articles might be picked up. He
and his companions being totally devoid of every thing, were exposed
to the hazard of a death even more painful than that which the others
had suffered, in perishing of famine. But finding several barrels,
which they hoped might contain something to relieve their necessities,
they experienced great mortification, on ascertaining that they were
part of the powder that had been thrown overboard during the
conflagration of their unfortunate vessel.
As night approached, they providentially discovered a cask of brandy,
about fifteen pounds of salt pork, a piece of scarlet cloth, twenty
yards of linen, a dozen of pipe staves, and a small quantity of
cordage. When it became dark they durst not venture to retain their
present station until day-light without being endangered by the wreck,
from the fragments of which they had not then been able to disengage
themselves. Therefore they rowed as quickly away as possible from
among them, and bent all their care to the management of the yawl.
The whole began to labor assiduously, and every article which could be
converted to use was employed; the lining of the boat was tore up for
the sake of the planks and nails; a seaman luckily had two needles,
and the linen afforded whatever thread was necessary; the piece of
scarlet cloth was substituted for a sail; an oar was erected for a
mast, and a plank served for a rudder. The equipment of the boat was
soon completed, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, at least as
well as circumstances would allow. Yet a great difficulty remained,
for wanting charts and instruments, and being nearly two hundred
leagues from land, the party felt at a loss what course to steer.
Resigning themselves to the Almighty, they offered up fervent prayers
for his direction.
At length the sail was hoisted, and a favorable breeze soon wafted
M. de la Fond from amidst the bodies of his miserable comrades.
Eight days and nights the adventurers advanced without seeing land;
naked and exposed to the scorching heat of the sun by day, and to
intense cold by night. But to relieve the thirst which parched them,
they availed themselves of a shower of rain, falling on the sixth, and
tried to catch a little of it in their mouths and with their hands.
They sucked the sail, which was wet with the rain, but from being
previously drenched with sea water, it imparted a bitterness to the
fresh water which it received. However, they did not complain, for
had the rain been heavier, it might have lulled the wind, in the
continuance of which they rested their hopes of safety.
In order to ascertain the proper course, the adventurers paid daily
observance to the rising and setting of the sun and moon, and the
position of the stars pointed out how they should steer. All their
sustenance in the meantime was a small piece of pork once in
twenty-four hours, and this they were even obliged to relinquish on
the fourth day, from the heat and irritation it occasioned of their
bodies. Their beverage was a glass of brandy taken from time to time,
but it inflamed their stomachs without assuaging the thirst that
consumed them. Abundance of flying fish were seen; the impossibility
of catching any of which only augmented the pain already endured,
though M. de la Fond and his companions tried to reconcile themselves
to the scanty pittance that they possessed. Yet the uncertainty of
their destiny, the want of subsistence, and the turbulence of the
ocean, all contributed to deprive them of repose, which they so much
required, and almost plunged them in despair. Nothing but a feeble ray
of hope preserved them under their accumulated sufferings.
The eighth night was passed by M. de la Fond at the helm; there he had
remained above ten hours, after soliciting relief, and at last sunk
down under fatigue. His miserable companions were equally exhausted,
and despair began to overwhelm the whole.
At last when the united calamities of hunger, thirst, fatigue and
misery, predicted speedy annihilation, the dawn of Wednesday, the 3d
of August, shewed this unfortunate crew the distant land. None but
those who have experienced the like situation, can form any adequate
idea of the change which was produced. Their strength was renovated,
and they were aroused to precautions against being drifted away by the
current. They reached the coast of Brazil, in latitude 6 south, and
entered Tresson Bay.
The first object of M. de la Fond and his companions was to return
thanks for the gracious protection of Heaven; they prostrated
themselves on the ground, and then in the transport of joy rolled
among the sand.
They exhibited the most frightful appearance; nothing human
characterized them, which did not announce their misfortune in glaring
colors. Some were quite naked; others had only shirts, rotten and torn
to rags. M. de la Fond had fastened a piece of the scarlet cloth
about his waist, in order to appear at the head of his companions.
Though rescued from imminent danger, they had still to contend with
hunger and thirst, and remained in ignorance whether they should meet
men endowed with humanity in that region.
While deliberating on the course they should follow, about fifty
Portuguese of the settlement, there established, advanced and inquired
the cause of their presence. Their misfortunes were soon explained,
and the recital of them proved a sufficient claim for supplying their
wants. Deeply affected by the account now given, the Portuguese
congratulated themselves that it had fallen to their lot to relieve
the strangers, and speedily led them to their dwellings. On the way
the seamen were rejoiced at the sight of a river, into which they
threw themselves, plunging in the water, and drinking copious draughts
of it to allay their thirst. Afterwards frequent bathing proved one of
the best restoratives of health, to which they all resorted.
The chief man of the place next came, and conducted M. de la Fond and
his companions to his house, about a half a league distant from the
spot where they landed. He charitably supplied them with linen shirts
and trowsers, and boiled some fish, the water of which was relished as
delicious broth. Though sleep was equally necessary as this frugal
fare, the survivors having learned that there was a church within half
a league, dedicated to St. Michael, repaired thither to render thanks
to Heaven for their miraculous preservation. The badness of the road
induced such fatigue as compelled them to rest in the village where it
stood, and there the narrative of their misfortunes, added to the
piety which they exhibited, attracted the notice of the inhabitants,
all of whom hastened to minister something to their necessities. After
remaining a short interval they returned to their host, who at night
kindly contributed another repast of fish. Something more
invigorating, however, being required by people who had endured so
much, they purchased an ox for a quantity of the brandy that had been
saved from the wreck.
Paraibo was distant fifteen leagues, and they had to set out barefoot,
and with little chance of finding suitable provisions on the journey.
Thus they smoke-dried their present store, and added a little flour to
it. In three days they began to march, and, under an escort of three
soldiers, advanced seven leagues the first day, when they were
hospitably received by a person, and passed the night in his house.
On the following evening, a serjeant and twenty-nine men arrived to
conduct them to the commandant of the fortress, who gave them a
friendly reception, afforded them supplies, and provided a boat to
carry them to Paraibo. About midnight they reached the town, where a
Portuguese captain attended to present them to the governor, from whom
also they experienced the like attention. Being anxious to reach
Fernambuc, to take advantage of a Portuguese fleet, daily expected to
sail for Europe, the governor, in three days more, ordered a corporal
to conduct the party thither. But at this time M. de la Fond's feet
were so cruelly wounded, he was scarce able to stand, and on that
account was supplied with a horse. In four days he arrived at
Fernambuc, where, from different naval and military officers, he met
with the utmost attention and consideration; he and all his companions
got a passage to Europe in the fleet.
M. de la Fond sailed on the 5th of October, and reached Lisbon in
safety on the 17th of December; thence he procured a passage to
Morlaix, where having rested a few days to recruit his strength, he
repaired to Port L'Orient, with his health greatly injured by the
calamities he had suffered, and reduced to a state of poverty, having
after twenty-eight years service, lost all he had in the world.
By this deplorable catastrophe, nearly three hundred persons perished.
WRECK OF THE SCHOONER BETSEY,
ON A REEF OF ROCKS.
The Betsey, a small schooner of about 75 tons burden, sailed from
Macao in China, for New South Wales, on the 10th of November, 1805.
Her complement consisted of William Brooks, commander, Edward
Luttrell, mate, one Portuguese seacunny, three Manilla and four
Chinese Lascars. No incident worthy of commemoration happened from the
10th to 20th of November. Next day, when the vessel was going at the
rate of seven knots and a half an hour, she struck on a reef of rocks
at half past two in the morning, while in north latitude 9 48, and
114 14 east longitude. The boat was instantly let down, and a small
anchor sent astern, but on heaving, the cable parted, and both were
lost. The people next endeavored to construct a raft of the water
casks, but the swell proved so great that they found it impossible to
accomplish their purpose. At day-break they found that the vessel had
forged four or five miles on the reef, which they now discovered
extended nine or ten miles to the south, and four or five east and
west; and there were only two feet water where she lay. During three
days and nights, the utmost exertions were made to get her off without
avail, and the crew had then become so weakened that they could scarce
be persuaded to construct a raft.
The vessel now had bulged on the starboard side. But a raft being made
on the 24th, the people left her with the jolly-boat in company, and
steered for Balambangan. Captain Brooks, the mate, the gunner and two
seacunnies were in the latter, where their whole provision consisted
of only a small bag of biscuit; and on the raft were the Portuguese,
four Chinese and three Malays, but much better provided.
The boat and the raft parted company on the same day, as a brisk gale
arose from the westward, and the raft was never heard of more; but it
was conjectured to have probably drifted on the island of Borneo,
which then bore south-east. The gale continued from the north-west
until the 28th of the month, accompanied by a mountainous sea, and
then ceased. By this time the fresh water taken into the boat was
completely expended, and all the biscuit that remained was wet with
salt water.
On the 29th at day-break, land came in view, which was supposed to be
Balabac; the people were now nearly exhausted by rowing under a
burning sun, and while a perfect calm prevailed; and they were besides
reduced to such extremity as to drink their own urine. It blew so hard
in the night that they were obliged to bear up for Bangay, the
north-west point of which they discovered next morning at day-break.
Going ashore they instantly made a search for fresh water, which they
soon found, and considering what they had suffered from thirst, it is
no wonder that they drank to excess. While rambling into the woods in
quest of fruit, two Malays met them, to whom they made signs that they
wanted food, and these being understood, the Malays went away, and in
the afternoon returned with two cocoa-nuts and a few sweet potatoes,
which they gave in exchange for a silver spoon.
Night approaching, the people returned to their boat.--Next morning
five Malays made their appearance, bringing some Indian corn and
potatoes, which were exchanged for spoons as before. These people
pointed to Balambangan, and endeavored to make the party comprehend
that sometime ago the English had abandoned the settlement. A new
supply of provision was promised next morning; therefore the party
retired with their little stock, and attended at the appointed time to
receive more. Eleven Malays then appeared on the beach; but after a
little conversation on landing, one of them threw a spear at Captain
Brooks, which penetrated his belly, another made a cut at Mr.
Luttrell, who parried it off with a cutlass, and ran to the boat.
Captain Brooks withdrew the spear from his body, and also ran a short
distance, but the inhuman assassins followed him and cut off both his
legs. The gunner also was severely wounded, and reached the boat
covered with blood, while the party at the same time, saw the Malays
stripping the dead body of Captain Brooks; and in about fifteen
minutes afterwards the gunner expired.
The survivors immediately made sail, and then examined into the state
of their provisions, which they found consisted of ten cobs of Indian
corn, three pumpkins, and two bottles of water. Trusting to the mercy
of Providence, they with this, determined on shaping their course for
the straits of Malacca.
No particular occurrence happened in the course of the voyage from the
fourth to the fourteenth of December; frequent showers had fortunately
supplied them with fresh water, but they were nearly exhausted by
constant watching and hunger.
On the 15th they fell in with a group of islands, in 3 of north
latitude, and about 100 degrees of east longitude, and approached the
shore. But being descried by two Malay prows, they were immediately
attacked, and one of the seacunnies was run through with a spear and
died instantly, while the other was also wounded. Mr. Luttrell, the
mate, had a very narrow escape from a spear piercing through his hat.
The party being thus overpowered, the Malays took possession of their
boat and immediately seized on all their property, a sextant, their
log-book, some plate and clothes. They were themselves kept in a prow,
without any covering, and exposed to the scorching heat of the sun,
with an allowance of only a small quantity of sago during three days.
After that time they were carried ashore to the house of a rajah, on
an island called Sube, where they remained in a state of slavery,
entirely naked, and subsisting on sago, until the 20th of April. The
Rajah sailed on that day in a prow for Rhio, taking Mr. Luttrell and
the two other survivors along with him, and arrived there nearly
famished, after a tedious passage of twenty-five days.
Here their distresses were alleviated by Mr. Koek of Malacca, who
treated them in the kindest manner; and the ship Kandree, commanded by
Captain Williamson, arriving next day, they obtained a passage in her
for Malacca.
EARLY AMERICAN HEROISM.
During one of the former wars, between France and England, in which
the then Colonies bore an active part, a respectable individual, a
member of the society of Friends, of the name of ----, commanded a fine
ship which sailed from an Eastern port, to a port in England. This
vessel had a strong and effective crew, but was totally unarmed. When
near her destined port, she was chased, and ultimately overhauled, by
a French vessel of war. Her commander used every endeavor to escape,
but seeing from the superior sailing of the Frenchman, that his
capture was inevitable, he quietly retired below: he was followed into
the cabin by his cabin boy, a youth of activity and enterprise, named
Charles Wager: he asked his commander if nothing more could be done to
save the ship--his commander replied that it was impossible, that
every thing had been done that was practicable, there was no escape
for them, and they must submit to be captured. Charles then returned
upon deck and summoned the crew around him--he stated in a few words
what was their captain's conclusion--then, with an elevation of mind,
dictated by a soul formed for enterprise and noble daring, he
observed, "if you will place yourselves under my command, and stand by
me, I have conceived a plan by which the ship may be rescued, and we
in turn become the conquerors." The sailors no doubt feeling the
ardor, and inspired by the courage of their youthful and gallant
leader, agreed to place themselves under his command. His plan was
communicated to them, and they awaited with firmness, the moment to
carry their enterprise into effect. The suspense was of short
duration, for the Frenchman was quickly alongside, and grappled to the
merchant ship. As Charles had anticipated, the exhilarated conquerors,
elated beyond measure, with the acquisition of so fine a prize, poured
into his vessel cheering and huzzaing; and not foreseeing any danger,
they left but few men on board their ship. Now was the moment for
Charles, who, giving his men the signal, sprang at their head on board
the opposing vessel, while some seized the arms which had been left in
profusion on her deck, and with which they soon overpowered the few
men left on board; the others, by a simultaneous movement, relieved
her from the grapplings which united the two vessels. Our hero now
having the command of the French vessel, seized the helm, and placing
her out of boarding distance, hailed, with the voice of a conqueror,
the discomfited crowd of Frenchmen who were left on board of the
peaceful bark he had just quitted, and summoned them to follow close
in his wake, or he would blow them out of water, (a threat they well
knew he was very capable of executing, as their guns were loaded
during the chase.) They sorrowfully acquiesced with his commands,
while gallant Charles steered into port, followed by his prize. The
exploit excited universal applause--the former master of the merchant
vessel was examined by the Admiralty, when he stated the whole of the
enterprise as it occurred, and declared that Charles Wager had planned
and effected the gallant exploit, and that to him alone belonged the
honor and credit of the achievement. Charles was immediately
transferred to the British navy, appointed a midshipman, and his
education carefully superintended. He soon after distinguished himself
in action, and underwent a rapid promotion, until at length he was
created an Admiral, and known as Sir Charles Wager. It is said that he
always held in veneration and esteem, that respectable and
conscientious Friend, whose cabin boy he had been, and transmitted
yearly to his OLD MASTER, as he termed him, a handsome present of
Madeira, to cheer his declining days.
[Illustration]
FINGAL'S CAVE.
The most magnificent of all known caverns, is that called Fingal's
Cave, in the Isle of Staffa, on the western coast of Scotland. Its
length is 370 feet; and the height at the entrance of the cave is 117
feet.
Thousands of majestic columns of basalts support a lofty roof, under
which the sea rolls its waves, while the vastness of the entrance
allows the light of day to penetrate the various recesses of the cave.
The mind, says Mr. Pennant, can hardly form an idea more magnificent
than such a space, supported on each side by ranges of columns, and
roofed by the bottom of those which have been broken off in order to
form it, between the angles of which a yellow stalagmatic matter has
exuded, which serves to define the angles precisely, and, at the same
time, vary the color with a great deal of elegance. To render it still
more agreeable, the whole is lighted from without, so that the
farthest extremity is very plainly seen; and the air within, being
agitated by the flux and reflux of the tides is perfectly wholesome,
and free from the damp vapors with which caverns generally abound.
[Illustration: THE RAMILLIES]
THE LOSS OF THE RAMILLIES,
IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.
Admiral (afterwards Lord) Graves having requested leave to return to
England in 1782, was appointed by Lord Rodney to command the convoy
sent home with the numerous fleet of merchantmen from the West Indies
in the month of July.--He accordingly hoisted his flag on board the
Ramillies of 74 guns, and sailed on the 25th from Blue Fields, having
under his orders the Canada and Centaur of 74 guns each, the Pallas
frigate of 36 guns, and the following French ships, taken by Lord
Rodney and Sir Samuel Hood, out of the armament commanded by the Count
de Grasse, viz. the Ville de Paris, of 110 guns; the Glorieux and
Hector, of 74 guns each; the Ardent, Caton and Jason, of 6 guns each.
Those which were originally British ships had been in so many actions,
and so long absent from England, as to have become extremely out of
condition, while that of the prizes was still more deplorable, and the
following authentic account of the various disasters which attended
this distressed convoy will be found equally melancholy and
interesting.
Soon after the fleet had sailed, the officers of the Ardent united in
signing such a representation of her miserable plight as induced
Admiral Graves to order her back to Port Royal, and the Jason, by not
putting to sea with the convoy, from want of water, never joined him
at all. The rest proceeded, and after those vessels that were bound
for New York had separated, the whole convoy was reduced to ninety-two
or three sail.
On the 8th of September the Caton springing a leak, made such alarming
complaints, that the Admiral directed her and the Pallas, also become
leaky, to bear away immediately, and keep company together, making for
Halifax, which then bore North-North-West and was but eighty-seven
leagues distant.
The afternoon of the 16th of September shewing indications of a gale
and foul weather from the south-east quarter, every preparation was
made on board the flag-ship for such an event, not only on account of
her own safety, but also as an example to the rest of the fleet. The
Admiral collected the ships about six o'clock, and brought to under
his main-sail on the larboard tack, having all his other sails furled,
and his top-gallant yards and masts lowered down.
The wind soon increasing, blew strong from the E. S. E. with a very
heavy sea, and about three o'clock in the morning of the 17th flew
suddenly round to the contrary point, blowing most tremendously, and
accompanied with rain, thunder and lightning; the Ramillies was taken
by the lee, her main-sail thrown back, her main-mast went by the
board, and mizen-mast half way up; the fore-top mast fell over the
starboard bow, the fore-yard broke in the slings, the tiller snapped
in two, and the rudder was nearly torn off. Thus was this capital
ship, from being in perfect order, reduced, within a few minutes to a
mere wreck, by the fury of the blast and the violence of the sea,
which acted in opposition to each other. The ship was pooped, the
cabin, where the Admiral lay was flooded, his cot-bed jerked down by
the violence of the shock and the ship's instantaneous revulsion, so
that he was obliged to pull on his boots half leg deep in water,
without any stockings, to huddle on his wet clothes, and repair upon
deck. On his first coming thither, he ordered two of the lieutenants
to examine into the state of the affairs below, and to keep a
sufficient number of people at the pumps, while he himself and the
captain kept the deck, to encourage the men to clear away the wreck,
which, by its constant swinging backwards and forwards by every wave
against the body of the ship, had beaten off much of the copper from
the starboard side, and exposed the seams so much to the sea that the
decayed oakum washed out, and the whole frame became at once
exceedingly porous and leaky.
At dawn of day they perceived a large ship lying under their lee,
lying upon her side, water-logged, her hands attempting to wear her by
first cutting away the mizen-mast, and then her main-mast; hoisting
her ensign, with the union downwards in order to draw the attention of
the fleet; but to no purpose, for no succour could be given, and she
very soon went down head fore-most, the fly of her ensign being the
last thing visible. This was the Dutton, formerly an East Indiaman,
and then a store-ship, commanded by a lieutenant of the navy, who in
his agitation, leaped from her deck into the sea; but, as might be
expected, was very soon overwhelmed by its billows. Twelve or
thirteen of the crew contrived, however, to slide off one of the
boats, and running with the wind, first endeavored to reach a large
ship before them, which, not being able to fetch, and afraid of
filling if they attempted to haul up for the purpose, they made up for
another ship more to the leeward, who fortunately descrying them,
threw a number of ropes, by the help of which these desperate fellows
scrambled up her sides, and fortunately saved their lives. Out of
ninety-four or five sail, seen the day before, scarcely twenty could
now be counted; of the ships of war, there were discerned the Canada,
half hull down upon the lee-quarter, having her main-top-mast and
mizen-mast gone, the main-top damaged, the main-yard aloft, and the
main-sail furled; the Centaur was far to windward, without masts,
bowsprit or rudder; and the Glorieux without fore-mast, bowsprit or
main-top-mast. Of these the two latter perished with all their crews,
excepting the captain of the Centaur, and a few of his people, who
contrived to slip off her stern into one of the boats unnoticed, and
thus escaped the fate of the rest of the crew.
The Ville de Paris appeared to have received no injury, and was
commanded by a most experienced seaman, who had made twenty-four
voyages to and from the West Indies, and had, therefore, been pitched
upon to lead the ship through the Gulf; nevertheless, she was
afterwards buried in the ocean with all on board her, consisting of
above eight hundred people. Of the convoy, besides the Dutton, before
mentioned, and the British Queen, seven others were discovered without
mast or bowsprit; eighteen lost masts and several others had
foundered.
In the course of this day the Canada crossed upon and passed the
Ramillies; some of the trade attempted to follow the Canada, but she
ran at such a rate that they soon found it to be in vain, and then
returned towards the flag-ship; the Ramillies had at this time six
feet water in her hold, and the pumps would not free her, the water
having worked out the oakum, and her beams amid-ship being almost
drawn from their clamps.
The admiral, therefore, gave orders for all the buckets to be manned,
and every officer to help towards freeing the ship; the mizen-top-sail
was set upon the fore-mast, the main-top-gallant-sail on the stump of
the mizen-mast, and the tiller shipped. In this condition, by bearing
away, she scudded on at so good a rate that she held pace with some of
the merchantmen.
The day having been spent in bailing and pumping, without materially
gaining on the water, the captain in the name of the officers,
represented to the admiral the necessity of parting with the guns for
the relief of the ship, but he objected, that there would then be left
no protection for the convoy.--At length, however, after great
difficulty, he consented to their disposing of the fore-castle and
aftermost quarter-deck guns, together with some of the shot, and other
articles of very great weight. The ensuing night was employed in
bailing and endeavoring to make the pumps useful, for the ballast by
getting into the well, had choked and rendered them useless, and the
chains had broken every time they were repaired. The water had risen
to seven feet in the hold. The wind from the westward drove a vast sea
before it, and the ship being old, strained most violently.
On the morning of the 18th nothing could be seen of the Canada, she
having pushed on at her greatest speed for England. The frame of the
Ramillies having opened during the night, the admiral was prevailed
upon, by the renewed and pressing remonstrances of the officers,
although with great reluctance, to let six of the forwardmost and four
of the aftermost guns of the main-deck to be thrown overboard,
together with the remainder of those on the quarter-deck; and the ship
still continuing to open very much, he ordered tarred canvas and hides
to be nailed fore and aft from under the sills of the ports on the
main-deck under the fifth plank above, or within the water-ways, and
the crew, without orders did the same on the lower deck. Her
increasing complaints requiring still more to be done, the admiral
directed all the guns on the upper deck, the shot, both on that and
the lower deck, and various heavy stores to be thrown overboard; a
leakage in the light room of the grand magazine having almost filled
the ship forward, and there being eight feet water in the magazine,
every gentleman was compelled to take his turn at the whips, or in
handing the buckets. The ship was besides frapped from the fore-mast
to the main-mast.
Notwithstanding their utmost efforts the water still gained on them
the succeeding night, the wind blowing very hard, with extremely heavy
squalls, a part of the orlop deck fell into the hold; the ship herself
seemed to work excessively, and to settle forward.
On the morning of the 19th, under these very alarming circumstances,
the admiral commanded both the bower anchors to be cut away, all the
junk to be flung overboard, one sheet and one bower cable to be
reduced to junk and served the same way, together with every remaining
ponderous store that could be got at, and all the powder in the grand
magazine (it being damaged;) the cutter and pinnace to be broken up
and tossed overboard, the skids having already worked off the side;
every soul on board was now employed in bailing. One of the pumps was
got up, but to no purpose, for the shot-lockers being broken down,
some of the shot, as well as the ballast, had fallen into the well;
and as the weather moderated a little, every thing was made ready to
heave the lower deck guns into the sea, the admiral being anxious to
leave nothing undone for the relief of the ship.
When evening approached, there being twenty merchant ships in sight,
the officers united in beseeching him to go into one of them, but this
he positively refused to do, deeming it, as he declared, unpardonable
in a commander in chief to desert his garrison in distress; that his
living a few years longer was of very little consequence, but that, by
leaving his ship at such a time, he should discourage and slacken the
exertions of the people, by setting a very bad example. The wind
lulling somewhat during the night, all hands bailed the water, which,
at this time, was six feet fore and aft.
On the morning of the 20th the admiral ordered the spare and stream
anchors to be cut away, and within the course of the day all the lower
deck guns to be thrown overboard.--When evening came, the spirits of
the people in general, and even of the most courageous, began to fail,
and they openly expressed the utmost despair, together with the most
earnest desire of quitting the ship, lest they should founder in
her.--The admiral hereupon advanced and told them, that he and their
officers had an equal regard for their own lives, and that the
officers had no intention of deserting either them or the ship, that,
for his part, he was determined to try one night more in her, he,
therefore, hoped and intreated they would do so too, for there was
still room to imagine, that one fair day, with a moderate sea, might
enable them, by united exertions to clear and secure the well against
the encroaching ballast which washed into it; that if this could be
done, they might be able to restore the chains to the pumps, and use
them; and that then hands enough might be spared to raise jury-masts,
with which they might carry the ship to Ireland; that her appearance
alone, while she could swim, would be sufficient to protect the
remaining part of her convoy; above all, that as every thing that
could be thought of had now been done for her relief, it would be but
reasonable to wait the effect. He concluded with assuring them, that
he would make the signal directly for the trade to lie by them during
the night, which he doubted not they would comply with.
This temperate speech had the desired effect; the firmness and
confidence with which he spoke, and their reliance on his seamanship
and judgment, as well as his constant presence and attention to every
accident, had a wonderful effect upon them; they became pacified, and
returned to their duty and their labors. Since the first disaster, the
admiral had, in fact, scarcely ever quitted the deck; this they had
all observed, together with his diligence in personally inspecting
every circumstance of distress. Knowing his skill and experience they
placed great confidence in them; and he instantly made, according to
his promise, a signal for all the merchantmen.
At this period, it must be confessed, there was great reason for
alarm, and but little for hope; for all the anchors and guns,
excepting one, together with every other matter of weight, had been
thrown overboard, and yet the ship did not seem at all relieved. The
strength of the people was, likewise, so nearly exhausted, having had
no sleep since the first fatal stroke, that one half of the crew were
ordered to bail and the other to repose; so that, although the wind
was much abated, the water still gained upon them, in spite of all
their efforts, and the ship rolled and worked most prodigiously in a
most unquiet sea.
At three in the morning of the 21st, being the fourth night, the well
being quite broken in, the casks, ballast and remaining shot, rushed
together and destroyed the cylinders of the pumps; the frame and
carcase of the ship began to give way in every part, and the whole
crew exclaimed that it was impossible to keep her any longer above
water.
In this extremity the admiral resolved within himself not to lose a
moment in removing the people whenever day-light should arrive, but
told the captain not to communicate any more of his design than that
he intended to remove the sick and lame at day-break; and for this
purpose he should call on board all the boats of the merchantmen. He,
nevertheless, gave private orders to the captain, while this was
doing, to have all the bread brought upon the quarter-deck, with a
quantity of beef, pork and flour, to settle the best distribution of
the people according to the number of the trade ships that should obey
their signal, and to allow an officer to each division of them; to
have the remaining boats launched, and as soon as the sick were
disposed of, to begin to remove the whole of the crew, with the utmost
despatch, but without risking too many in a boat.
Accordingly at dawn, the signal was made for the boats of the
merchantmen, but nobody suspected what was to follow, until the bread
was entirely removed and the sick gone.--About six o'clock, the rest
of the crew were permitted to go off, and between nine and ten, there
being nothing further to direct and regulate, the admiral himself,
after shaking hands with every officer, and leaving his barge for
their better accommodation and transport, quitted forever the
Ramillies, which had then nine feet water in her hold. He went into a
small leaky boat, loaded with bread, out of which both him and the
surgeon who accompanied him were obliged to bail the water all the
way. He was in his boots, with his surtout over his uniform, and his
countenance as calm and as composed as ever. He had, at going off,
desired a cloak, a cask of flour and a cask of water, but could get
only the flour, and he left behind all his stock, wines, furniture,
books and charts, which had cost him upwards of one thousand pounds,
being unwilling to employ even a single servant in saving or packing
up what belonged to himself alone, in a time of such general calamity,
as to appear better in that respect than any of the crew.
The admiral rowed for the Belle, Captain Forster, being the first of
the trade that had borne up to the Ramillies the preceding night in
her imminent distress, and by his anxious humanity set such an example
to his brother traders as had a powerful influence upon them--an
influence which was generally followed by sixteen others.
By three o'clock most of the crew were taken out, at which time the
Ramillies had thirteen feet water in her hold, and was evidently
foundering in every part, at half past four the captain, and first and
third lieutenants, left her, with every soul excepting the fourth
lieutenant, who staid behind only to execute the admiral's orders for
setting fire to her wreck when finally deserted. The carcase burned
rapidly, and the flames quickly reaching the powder, which was filled
in the after magazine, and had been lodged very high, in thirty-five
minutes the decks and upper works blew up with a horrid explosion and
cloud of smoke, while the lower part of the hull was precipitated to
the bottom of the ocean.
At this time the admiral, in the Belle, stood for the wreck to see
his last orders executed, as well as to succour any boats that might
be too full of men, the swell of the sea being prodigious, although
the weather had been moderate ever since noon of the foregoing day.
There were, however, at intervals, some squalls, with threats of the
weather soon becoming violent. It was not long before they were
realized, for within two hours after the last of the crew were put on
board their respective ships, the wind rose to a great height, and so
continued, with intermission, for six or seven successive days, so
that no boat could, during that time, have lived in the water. On
such a small interval depended the salvation of more than six hundred
lives! Indeed, during the four days immediately preceding this
catastrophe, it blew such a strong gale, and such a heavy sea
followed the Ramillies, that it was always necessary to keep her with
the wind upon her quarter, with seldom more than the sprit-sail
hoisted upon her fore-mast, and at times with no sail at all, in
which state she would run at the rate of six miles an hour. Whenever
the main-top-gallant-sail was set on the stump of the mizen-mast she
commonly griped too much, so as to render the steerage very
difficult, and yet this had been carried, whenever it could be, in
order to keep pace with the merchantmen, the slowest of which went
nearly as fast under their bare poles.
Even in running thus the Ramillies rolled prodigiously, and as she
grew lighter every day her motion became the more uneasy, so that the
men could scarcely stand to their work, or keep their legs without
something to lay hold by. There was no such thing as real repose for
them when sitting or lying down upon deck, nor steadiness enough to
eat or drink with any security; no meat could be dressed, nor did any
man or officer go into bed. Until the afternoon of the 20th there was
no venturing to bring her to, even for a boat to come on board; but,
notwithstanding this desperate condition, when some were hourly
dropping through fatigue and want of sleep, and the decks were covered
with water, the whole of the crew behaved with the utmost obedience,
attention and sobriety, and remitted no possible exertion for the
preservation of the ship.
Upon their separation taking place, the officers, who were distributed
with portions of the crew among the Jamaica-men, had orders
respectively to deliver them to the first man of war or tender they
should meet with, and to acquaint the Secretary of the Admiralty, by
the earliest opportunity, of their proceedings. A pendant was hoisted
on board the Belle, by way of distinction, that she might, if
possible, lead the rest. Some of the trade kept with her, and others
made the best of their way, apprehensive lest they should soon fall
short of provisions, as they had so many more to feed.
The Silver Eel transport, which had sailed from Bluefields with the
invalids of Sir George Rodney's fleet, and was under the command of a
lieutenant of the navy, had been ordered to keep near the Ramillies.
That ship was accordingly at hand on the 21st of September, the day of
her destruction, and in consequence of several deaths on the passage
had room enough for the reception of all who were now ailing or
maimed, and was therefore charged with them, being properly fitted for
their accommodation.
The Silver Eel parted from the admiral in latitude 42 48 N. and
longitude 45 19 W. after seeing the Ramillies demolished, and being
ordered to make for the first port, ran into Falmouth the 6th of
October, on the afternoon of which day, one of the trade ships, with a
midshipman and sixteen of the crew of the Ramillies, reached Plymouth
Sound. Another of the same convoy, having on board another part of the
crew, with the captain and first lieutenant, anchored in the same
place before day-light the next morning. The Canada, however, having
exerted her utmost speed, had, prior to all these, on the 4th of the
same month got to Portsmouth, where she spread the news of the
dispersion of this miserable fleet, which being conveyed to France,
her privateers immediately put to sea in hopes of making prizes of
them. Some of the Jamaica-men, with part of the crew of the Ramillies,
fell into their hands; two of the West Indiamen were captured in sight
of the Belle, but she herself with the admiral and thirty-three of his
crew, arrived safe, though singly, on the 10th of October in Cork
harbor, where was the Myrmidon frigate. The admiral immediately
hoisted his flag on board the latter, and sailing with the first fair
wind, arrived, on the 17th, in Plymouth Sound, apparently in good
health, but with a settled oppression upon his breast, from having
been so long and so dreadfully exposed upon the deck of the Ramillies
in the horrid night when she was first overtaken by the storm; nor
could he remove that complaint for upwards of six months. He brought
away with him nothing but a few of his private papers, the rest of his
effects having shared the same fate as his ship.
It was calculated that by the destruction of the fleet, upwards of
twenty one thousand five hundred persons perished. The loss of
property has been estimated by the British Government to be upwards of
£20,000,000. The gale, which continued for six days, was the most
tremendous one on record.
PRESERVATION OF NINE MEN,
IN A SMALL BOAT, SURROUNDED BY ISLANDS OF ICE.
We sailed from Plymouth under convoy of H. B. Majesty's ship St.
Alban's, and two other ships of war, together with a fleet of
merchantmen bound to the Mediterranean, having a fresh gale at
north-east.
The wind still continuing, we kept company with the fleet until
reaching 120 leagues to the westward; then judging ourselves clear of
privateers, we proceeded on our voyage. But before gaining 300
leagues, on the 17th of March we came up with an English built ship of
about 200 tons, carrying twelve guns, and sailing under a jury
main-mast. On our approach she hoisted English colors; and, on being
hailed, told us she belonged to London, and was now bound from
Virginia homewards, which seemed probable, as many tame fowl were on
board; and a red bird flew from her to us.
Our captain seeing the vessel disabled, desired her to bring to;
saying, if anything was wanted on board, we should hoist out our boat
and carry it thither; but this was obstinately refused; the captain
declared, that our boat should not approach, and unless we kept
further off, he would fire into us. This induced suspicion on our
part, wherefore we run up with the vessel, and commanded her to bring
to. On this she fired, and engaged us from eleven in the morning until
six in the evening; then, being much damaged, she struck, and called
to us to save the lives of the crew. But this request came too late,
for the wind increasing, raised a great sea, which forced our ship
under a reefed main-sail, whence we could not hoist out our boat,
without endangering our own lives. However, by means of a light which
she carried, we kept close to her, intending to hoist the boat out
when it became practicable. But towards midnight her light became very
low; and by a loud cry, which was heard about one o'clock, we judged
that she foundered.
When the vessel struck she told us that she had fourteen Frenchmen on
board, whence we conjectured her to be an English Virginia-man taken
by the French; and that she had lost her main-mast in the engagement.
We followed her, chasing and fighting, about thirty leagues; and when
she struck we were in 45 50 north latitude.
Our booty being thus lost, we made the best of our way to
Newfoundland, being bound thither on a fishing voyage. One trouble,
however, seldom comes alone, and so it happened to us; for, on the
26th of March, we saw some shattered ice, at four in the afternoon,
which was supposed to be the harbor ice now broken up. We were now in
46 50 north latitude, and conceived ourselves 50 leagues, though it
afterwards proved seventy, from the land. The wind being at east, the
top-sails were handed; and we stood northward, under our courses,
hoping to get clear of the ice before night. But finding rather more
than less, we tacked to the Southward, which was found unproductive of
any change. Therefore, for further security, the fore-sail was furled,
and the ship brought to under the main-sail, as night approached, and
as there was a dead wind, so that we could lie off on neither tack, we
trusted if we should fall in with the greater ice, to meet with the
less shocks.
About eight or nine o'clock, we discovered a field of ice, of which we
ran foul, notwithstanding our exertions to keep clear of it; and
although we hung cables, coils of rope, hoops and such things, over
the ship to defend her, she struck so hard, that at eleven she bilged,
whence we had much difficulty to keep her afloat till day-light, by
two pumps going, and bailing at three hatchways.
At the approach of day our men were much fatigued, the water
increased, and against noon the hold was half full.--No one knew what
to advise another, and all began to despair of their lives: we
continued pumping, though to little purpose, and concluded, that if
now were our appointed time, we must submit patiently to it.
But amidst this disaster, it pleased God to put it into the thoughts
of some of us, that several might be preserved in the boat, whence the
captain was entreated to hoist her out, and commit a few of us there.
The captain answered, that, although God could work wonders, it was
improbable that so small a boat should preserve us; that it was but
living a few days longer in misery; and, seeing God had cast this
calamity to his lot, he was resolved to take his chance and die with
his men.
Nevertheless, being much importuned, he ordered the boat out, and
William Saunders and five others in her; and, that the men might not
suspect their design, it was given out that the boat should go ahead
to tow the ship clear of the ice.--How likely that was the reader may
judge, there being but one oar, all the rest were broken by defending
the ship from the ice. However, the purpose advanced.
The boat being out, and finding no effect produced in towing the ship,
fell a-stern, intending to take in the captain and as many as it could
safely carry, while some were preparing necessaries for a miserable
voyage. A compass, and other things ready, were conveyed into it.
The captain, doctor and several others, having got out at the cabin
windows and galleries, I, amongst the rest, endeavored to escape at
the gallery, intending likewise, if possible, to get into the boat;
but being discovered by the men, they took small arms, and kept off
the boat, resolving, as she could not preserve all, that the whole
should perish together.
This design being frustrated, every one, except myself and William
Langmead, got into the ship again; but we were so low that we could
not recover ourselves. No person coming to relieve us, we were at
length forced to let go our hold, and trust to the mercy of those in
the boat, who seeing us swimming towards them, hove out a rope and
took us in.
We were now eight in number in the boat; and, willing to save our
captain, lay hovering about the ship till night; but the men
persisting in their resolution, fired at the boat and kept her off. We
began to seek shelter as night approached; and, having gone among the
shattered ice, made our boat fast to a small lump, and drove with it;
and as we came foul of great ice, we removed and made fast to another
piece, and so continued during the remainder of the night.
Looking around in the morning, the ship was seen about three leagues
to the eastward in the same position as we had left her, whereon a
consultation was held whether or not we should return and make another
attempt to save the captain, and as many more as possible. This
proposal, however, was negatived, every one alleging that the men
would either fire on us, or inconsiderately crowd into the boat and
sink her; therefore, it was resolved to make the best of our way to
the shore. But I, considering how little it would tend to my honor to
save my life, and see my captain perish, endeavored to persuade them
that the ship still swam buoyant, that I hoped the leak was stopped,
and that we might proceed on our voyage; but this was unavailing. When
I saw myself unable to prevail thus, I desired them to row up and set
me on that part of the ice next the ship, whence I should walk to her,
and die with my commander.
This being unanimously agreed to, we rowed to the ice; but when we
reached it, I was loth to go out. However, on calling the captain to
us, Mr. John Maddick came first, and after him the doctor and some
others, which the captain perceiving, came also.
The captain having left the ship, the multitude crowded so eagerly
after him that we had like to have spoiled all; but by chance the boat
was got off, with twenty-one people in her and hanging to her sides.
Some were forced to slip; others perished on the ice, not being able
to return to the ship, where the rest were lost.
On the 25th of March we took a miserable farewell of our distressed
brethren, the heart of every one being so overloaded with his own
misery as to have little room to pity another. Next, on considering
what course to follow, we resolved to make for the shore.
Our only provision was a small barrel of flour, and a five gallon
rundlet of brandy, which had been thrown overboard, and was taken up
by us. We also took up an old chest, which stood us in good stead, for
having but one oar, and our ship's handspikes, and a hatchet being by
chance in the boat, we could split the chest, and nail it to the
handspikes, which were our oars. Nails we had only, by drawing them
from different parts of the boat; and the rest of the chest was used
to kindle a fire. It also happened that our main tarpaulin, which had
been newly tarred, was put into the boat. Of it we made a main-sail;
and of an old piece of canvas, that had been a sail to a yawl, we made
a fore-sail. In this condition we turned towards the shore, and
observing the surrounding ice lie north and south, we steered north,
and in the morning were clear of it.
Having now got into the ocean, and the wind being still easterly, we
hoisted our sail, and steered west-north-west about fourteen leagues,
when we fell in with another field of ice. Attempting to sail through
it, we were enclosed by many great islands, which drove so fast
together, that we were forced to haul up our boat on the ice,
otherwise we should have perished.
Here we lay eleven days without once seeing the sea. As the ice was
thick, we caught as many seals as we chose, for they were in great
abundance. Our fire hearth was made of the skin, and the fat melted
so easily, that we could boil the lean with it.
But by lying so long in this cold region, the men began to complain of
their feet; and our boat being too small to afford room for all, there
was always a hideous cry among us of hurting each other, though for
this there was no remedy. We kept watch six and six, both for the
convenience of room, and to guard against the ice breaking under our
boat, which often happened, and then it was necessary to launch, or
carry her to a place which we thought strong enough to bear her
weight.
In eleven days we saw the sea, and, with great difficulty, got out the
boat. We sailed about ten or twelve leagues north-north-west as
before, when we were again enclosed; and this was repeated five
several times. The last ice, however, was worse than any before, and
although it was so thick that we could not force the boat through it,
yet it was not so solid as to bear the weight of a man; therefore,
notwithstanding we daily saw enough of seals, we could take none of
them.
It fortunately happened, that when we parted from the hard ice, we had
seven seals in store, and one that we took dead, which was consumed
without consulting how it had died.
We were next reduced to short allowance, having only one among us to
serve two days, which, with about three ounces of flour, mixed with
water, and boiled in the fat of the seal, was all our provision. At
length we were obliged to share both feet and skin, each of us
allowing a little fat to make a fire. But being constrained to eat the
whole, skin and bone also, scarcely boiled, injured our stomachs so
much, that some of our number died, and I myself suffered severely.
On getting clear of the loose ice, if the wind was so adverse as to
prevent our rowing, we made fast the boat to an island of ice until
better weather. Although this sheltered us, we were often in great
danger, from the islands driving foul of us, so that it was wonderful
we escaped.
We drank the ice mixed with brandy; and our provisions, with good
management, lasted until our coming ashore, for it pleased God to save
some of us by taking others to himself. Our companions began to die
two or three in a day, until we were at last reduced to nine.
The feet of several who died were bit in such a manner by the frost,
that, on stripping them, which was done to give the clothes to the
survivors, their toes came away with the stockings. The last who died
was the boatswain, who lived until the day before we saw land.
Our compass was broke by the last field of ice through which we
passed, and soon after we lost our water bucket, which was used for
bailing. Our course was directed by the sun in the day-time, and the
stars by night.
Though many other accidents befel us, it pleased the Lord to bring us
safe to land, after passing twenty-eight days in the boat.
On the 24th of April we arrived at Baccalew, and thence repaired to
the Bay of Verds, in Newfoundland, where we found three men providing
for a fishing voyage, who carried us to their house, and gave us such
things as they had. But they being indifferently stored, and unable to
maintain us, we determined to go to St. John's, notwithstanding some
of us were so much frost-bit, as to be obliged to be carried to the
boat. Before getting to Cape St. Francis, however, the wind veered to
the south-west, which compelled us to row all night. In the morning we
reached Portugal Cove, where to our unspeakable joy, some men were
found preparing for the summer's fishing. They shewed us so much
compassion as to launch a boat, and tow us over to Belleisle, and
there we were courteously received. All were so weak that we were
carried ashore on men's shoulders; and we were besides so disfigured
with hunger, cold and the oil of seals, that people could hardly
recognise us as men, except for the shape. At Belleisle we remained
ten days, when, being somewhat recruited, we went to St. John's. Thus,
in all this extremity, God miraculously preserved nine out of
ninety-six that were in the ship.
CAPTAIN ROSS'S EXPEDITION.
In the year 1818 the British Government fitted out two expeditions to
the North Pole. Captain Buchan, commanding the Trent and the Dorothy
was directed to attempt a passage between Spitzbergen and Nova
Zembla, over the Pole, into the Pacific, and Captain Ross, commanding
the Isabella and the Alexander, to attempt the north-west passage from
Davis' Straits and Baffin's Bay, into the Frozen Ocean, and thence
into the Pacific. Ross reached 77 deg. 40 min. latitude, and more
accurately determined the situation of Baffin's Bay, which until then
was believed to extend 10 deg. further to the east than it actually
does. Although he sailed up Lancaster Sound, he did not advance far
enough to ascertain if it was open, not having arrived there until
October 1st, when danger from the ice obliged him to quit the coast.
Lieutenant Parry, who had accompanied Captain Ross, was sent, in
conjunction with Captain Lyon, in the year 1819, on a second voyage
into Baffin's Bay, and having penetrated as far as to gain the first
prize offered by Parliament (£5000) and having made the most western
point ever reached in the Polar seas, he was entrusted with the
direction of the Hecla and Fury, on a similar expedition in 1821.
These ships returned in October 1823, without achieving the principal
object for which they were dispatched. In 1824 Parry and Lyon were
again sent out for the discovery of a north-west passage, in the Hecla
and Fury. After wintering in Prince Regent's Bay, the ships sailed
southwardly, and, in consequence of storms and icebergs, it became
necessary to abandon the Fury, and with her crew on board the Hecla,
Captain Parry returned to England in October 1825. The Admiralty sent
Parry, in the Hecla, in 1827, to reach, if possible, the North Pole.
Having journeyed thirty-five days over the ice, beginning at 81 deg.
12 min. 15 sec. he was compelled to retrace his course. So far the
exertions of the British Government.
Piqued by the real, or supposed neglect of government, Captain Ross,
in the spring of 1829, undertook an expedition on his own resources,
with the view of effecting a passage into the Polar Sea, and to reach
Behring's Straits along the northern coast of the American continent.
The ship--the Victory--was lost in the first year out, and Ross and
his crew had worn through the remaining time on board the wreck of the
Fury. When picked up in Lancaster Sound, they were in four of the
Fury's boats, which they had "found uninjured, and in the same
condition in which they had been left."
The following letter, addressed by the gallant Navigator to the
Admiralty, puts us in possession of all the adventures and discoveries
of this memorable expedition.
On board the Isabella, of Hull, }
Baffin's Bay, Sept. 1833. }
Sir,--Knowing how deeply my Lords Commissioners, of the Admiralty are
interested in the advancement of nautical knowledge, and particularly
in the improvement of geography, I have to acquaint you, for the
information of their Lordships, that the expedition, the main object
of which is to solve, if possible, the question of a north-west
passage from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean, particularly by Prince
Regent's Inlet, and which sailed from England in May, 1829,
notwithstanding the loss of the fore-mast and other untoward
circumstances, which obliged the vessel to refit in Greenland, reached
the beach on which his Majesty's late ship Fury's stores were landed,
on the 13th of August.
We found the boats, provisions, &c. in excellent condition, but no
vestige of the wreck. After completing in fuel and other necessaries,
we sailed on the 14th, and on the following morning rounded Cape
Garry, where our new discoveries commenced, and, keeping the western
shore close on board, ran down the coast in a S. W. and W. course, in
from 10 to 20 fathoms, until we had passed the latitude of 72 north in
longitude 94 west; here we found a considerable inlet leading to the
westward, the examination of which occupied two days; at this place we
were first seriously obstructed by ice, which was now seen to extend
from the south cape of the inlet, in a solid mass, round by E. to
E. N. E.; owing to this circumstance, the shallowness of the water,
the rapidity of the tides, the tempestuous weather, the irregularity
of the coast and the numerous inlets and rocks for which it is
remarkable, our progress was no less dangerous than tedious, yet we
succeeded in penetrating below the latitude of 70 north, in longitude
92 west, where the land, after having carried us as far east as 90,
took a decidedly westerly direction, while land at the distance of 40
miles to southward, was seen extending east and west. At this extreme
point our progress was arrested on the 1st of October by an
impenetrable barrier of ice. We, however, found an excellent wintering
port, which we named Felix Harbor.
Early in January, 1830, we had the good fortune to establish a
friendly intercourse with a most interesting consociation of natives,
who, being insulated by nature, had never before communicated with
strangers; from them we gradually obtained the important information
that we had already seen the continent of America, that about 40 miles
to the S. W. there were two great seas, one to the west, which was
divided from that to the east by a narrow strait or neck of land. The
verification of this intelligence either way, on which our future
operations so materially depended, devolved on Commander Ross, who
volunteered this service early in April, and accompanied by one of the
mates, and guided by two of the natives, proceeded to the spot, and
found that the north land was connected to the south by two ridges of
high land, 15 miles in breadth, but, taking into account a chain of
fresh water lakes, which occupied the valleys between, the dry land
which actually separates the two oceans is only five miles. This
extraordinary isthmus was subsequently visited by myself, when
Commander Ross proceeded minutely to survey the sea coast to the
southward of the isthmus leading to the westward, which he succeeded
in tracing to the 99th degree, or to 150 miles of Cape Turnagain of
Franklin, to which point the land, after leading him into the 70th
degree of north latitude, ended directly; during the same journey he
also surveyed 30 miles of the adjacent coast, or that to the north of
the isthmus, which, by also taking a westerly direction, forming the
termination of the western sea into a gulf. The rest of this season
was employed in tracing the sea coast south of the isthmus leading to
the eastward, which was done so as to leave no doubt that it joined,
as the natives had previously informed us, to Ockullee, and the land
forming Repulse Bay. It was also determined that there was no passage
to the westward for 30 miles to the northward of our position.
This summer, like that of 1818, was beautifully fine, but extremely
unfavorable for navigation, and our object being now to try a more
northern latitude, we waited with anxiety for the disruption of the
ice, but in vain, and our utmost endeavors did not succeed in
retracing our steps more than four miles, and it was not until the
middle of November that we succeeded in cutting the vessel into a
place of security, which we named "Sheriff's Harbor." I may here
mention that we named the newly discovered continent to the southward
"Boothia," as also the isthmus, the peninsula to the north, and the
eastern sea, after my worthy friend, Felix Booth, Esq., the truly
patriotic citizen of London, who, in the most disinterested manner,
enabled me to equip this expedition in superior style.
The last winter was in temperature nearly equal to the mean of what
had been experienced on the four preceding voyages, but the winters of
1830 and 1831 set in with a degree of violence hitherto beyond
record--the thermometer sunk to 92 degrees below the freezing point,
and the average of the year was 10 degrees below the preceding; but
notwithstanding the severity of the summer, we travelled across the
country to the west sea by a chain of lakes, 30 miles north of the
isthmus, when Commander Ross succeeded in surveying 50 miles more of
the coast leading to the north-west, and by tracing the shore to the
northward of our position, it was also fully proved that there could
be no passage below the 71st degree.
This autumn we succeeded in getting the vessel only 14 miles to the
northward, as we had not doubled the Eastern Cape, all hope of saving
the ship was at an end, and put quite beyond possibility by another
very severe winter; and having only provisions to last us to the 1st
of June, 1833, dispositions were accordingly made to leave the ship in
present port, which (after her) was named Victory Harbor. Provisions
and fuel being carried forward in the spring, we left the ship on the
28th of May, 1832, for Fury Beach, being the only chance left for
saving our lives; owing to the very rugged nature of the ice, we were
obliged to keep either upon or close to the land, making the circuit
of every bay, thus increasing our distance of 200 miles by nearly one
half; and it was not until the 1st of July that we reached the beach,
completely exhausted by hunger and fatigue.
A hut was speedily constructed, and the boats three of which had been
washed off the beach, but providentially driven on shore again, were
repaired during this month; and the unusual heavy appearance of the
ice afforded us no cheering prospect until the 1st of August, when in
three boats we reached the ill-fated spot where the Fury was first
driven on shore, and it was not until the 1st of September we reached
Leopold South Island, now established to be the N. E. point of America
in latitude 73 56, and longitude 90 west. From the summit of the lofty
mountain on the promontory we could see Prince Regent's Inlet,
Barrow's Strait and Lancaster Sound, which presented one impenetrable
mass of ice, just as I had seen it in 1818. Here we remained in a
state of anxiety and suspense, which may be easier imagined than
described. All our attempts to push through were vain; at length being
forced by want of provisions and the approach of a very severe winter,
to return to Fury Beach, where alone there remained wherewith to
support life, there we arrived on the 7th of October, after a most
fatiguing and laborious march, having been obliged to leave our boats
at Batty Bay. Our habitation, which consisted of a frame of spars, 32
feet by 16, covered with canvas, was, during the month of November
enclosed, and the roof covered with snow, from 4 to 7 feet thick,
which being saturated with water when the temperature was fifteen
degrees below zero, immediately took the consistency of ice, and thus
we actually became the inhabitants of an iceberg during one of the
most severe winters hitherto recorded; our sufferings aggravated by
want of bedding, clothing and animal food, need not be dwelt upon. Mr.
C. Thomas, the carpenter, was the only man who perished at this beach,
but three others, besides one who had lost his foot, were reduced to
the last stage of debility, and only thirteen of our number were able
to carry provisions in seven journies of 62 miles each to Batty Bay.
We left Fury Beach on the 8th of July, carrying with us three sick
men, who were unable to walk, and in six days we reached the boats,
where the sick daily recovered. Although the spring was mild, it was
not until the 15th of August that we had any cheering prospect. A gale
from the westward having suddenly opened a lane of water along shore,
in two days we reached our former position, and from the mountain we
had the satisfaction of seeing clear water across Prince Regent's
Inlet, which we crossed on the 17th, and took shelter from a storm
twelve miles to the eastward of Cape York. The next day, when the gale
abated we crossed Admiralty Inlet, and were detained six days on the
coast by a strong N. E. wind. On the 25th we crossed Navy Board Inlet,
and on the following morning, to our inexpressible joy, we descried a
ship in the offing, becalmed, which proved to be the Isabella of Hull,
the same ship which I commanded in 1818. At noon we reached her, when
her enterprising commander, who had in vain searched for us in Prince
Regent's Inlet, after giving us three cheers, received us with every
demonstration of kindness and hospitality, which humanity could
dictate. I ought to mention also that Mr. Humphreys, by landing me at
Possession Bay, and subsequently on the west coast of Baffin's Bay,
afforded me an excellent opportunity of concluding my survey, and of
verifying my former chart of that coast.
I have now the pleasing duty of calling the attention of their
lordships to the merit of Commander Ross, who was second in the
direction of this expedition. The labors of this officer, who had the
departments of astronomy, natural history and surveying, will speak
for themselves in language beyond the ability of my pen; but they will
be duly appreciated by their lordships and the learned bodies of which
he is a member, and who are already well acquainted with his
acquirements.
My steady and faithful friend, Mr. William Thom of the royal navy, who
was formerly with me in the Isabella, besides his duty as third in
command, took charge of the meteorological journal, the distribution
and economy of provisions, and to his judicious plans and suggestions
must be attributed the uncommon degree of health which our crew
enjoyed; and as two out of three who died in the four years and a half
were cut off early in the voyage, by diseases not peculiar to the
climate, only one man can be said to have perished. Mr. M'Diarmid the
surgeon, who had been several voyages to these regions, did justice to
the high recommendation I received of him; he was useful in every
amputation and operation which he performed, and wonderfully so in his
treatment of the sick; and I have no hesitation in adding, that he
would be an ornament to his Majesty's service.
Commander Ross, Mr. Thom and myself, have, indeed, been serving
without pay; but in common with the crew have lost our all, which I
regret the more, because it puts it out of my power adequately to
remunerate my fellow sufferers, whose case I cannot but recommend for
their lordships' consideration.
We have, however, the consolation, that results of this expedition
have been conclusive, and to science highly important, and may be
briefly comprehended in the following words: The discovery of the Gulf
of Boothia, the continent and isthmus of Boothia Felix, and a vast
number of islands, rivers and lakes; the undeniable establishment that
the north-east point of America extends to the 74th degree of north
latitude; valuable observations of every kind, but particularly on the
magnet; and to crown all, have had the honor of placing the
illustrious name of our Most Gracious Sovereign William IV, on the
true position of the magnetic pole.
I cannot conclude this letter, sir, without acknowledging the
important advantages we obtained from the valuable publications of Sir
Edward Parry and Sir John Franklin, and the communications kindly made
to us by those distinguished officers before our departure from
England. But the glory of this enterprise is entirely due to Him,
whose divine favor has been most especially manifested towards us, who
guided and directed all our steps, who mercifully provided, in what we
had deemed a calamity, His effectual means of our preservation; and
who even after the devices and inventions of man had utterly failed,
crowned our humble endeavors with complete success.
I have, &c.
JOHN ROSS, Captain, R. N.
To Captain the Hon. George Elliot, &c. }
Secretary Admiralty. }
LOSS OF THE CATHARINE, VENUS AND PIEDMONT TRANSPORTS; AND THREE
MERCHANT SHIPS.
The miseries of war are in themselves great and terrible, but the
consequences which arise indirectly from it, though seldom known and
little adverted to, are no less deplorable.--The destruction of the
sword sometimes bears only an inconsiderable proportion to the havoc
of disease, and, in the pestilential climates of the western colonies,
entire regiments, reared in succession, have as often fallen victims
to their baneful influence.
To prosecute the war with alacrity, it had been judged expedient to
transport a strong body of troops on foreign service, but their
departure was delayed by repeated adversities, and at length the
catastrophe which is about to be related ensued.
On the 15th of November 1795, the fleet, under convoy of Admiral
Christian's squadron, sailed from St. Helens. A more beautiful sight
than it exhibited cannot be conceived; and those who had nothing to
lament in leaving their native country, enjoyed the spectacle as the
most magnificent produced by the art of man, and as that which the
natives of this island contemplate with mingled pride and pleasure.
Next day, the wind continuing favorable, carried the fleet down
channel; and as the Catharine transport came within sight of the isle
of Purbeck, Lieutenant Jenner, an officer on board, pointed out to
another person, the rocks where the Halsewell and so many unfortunate
individuals had perished. He and Cornet Burns had been unable to reach
Southampton until the Catharine had sailed, therefore they hired a boy
to overtake her, and on embarking at St. Helens the former expressed
his satisfaction, in a letter to his mother, that he had been so
fortunate as to do so.
On Tuesday the 17th, the fleet was off Portland, standing to the
westward; but the wind shifting and blowing a strong gale at
south-south-west, the admiral, dubious whether they could clear the
channel, made a signal for putting into Torbay, which some of the
transports were then in sight of.--However, they could not make the
bay; the gale increased, and a thick fog came on; therefore the
admiral thought it expedient to alter his design, and about five in
afternoon made a signal for standing out to sea. Of the circumstances
relative to the Catharine, a more detailed account has been preserved
than respecting the other vessels of the fleet; and they are preserved
by a female, with whose name we are unacquainted, in these words.
"The evening of the 17th was boisterous and threatening; the master
said he was apprehensive that we should have bad weather; and when I
was desired to go on deck and look at the appearance of the sky, I
observed that it was troubled and red, with great heavy clouds flying
in all directions, and with a sort of dull mist surrounding the moon.
On repeating this to the other passengers, two of whom had been at sea
before, they said we should certainly have a stormy night, and indeed
it proved so very tempestuous that no rest was to be obtained. Nobody,
however, seemed to think that there was any danger, though the fog was
so thick that the master could see nothing by which to direct his
course; but he thought that he had sufficient sea-room.
The fatigue I had suffered from the tossing of the ship, and the
violence with which she continued to roll, had kept me in bed. It was
about ten o'clock in the morning of the 18th, when the mate looked
down into the cabin and cried, "save yourselves if you can!"
The consternation and terror of that moment cannot be described; I had
on a loose dressing gown, and wrapping it round me I went up, not
quite on deck, but to the top of the stairs, from whence I saw the sea
break mountain high against the shore. The passengers and soldiers
seemed thunderstruck by the sense of immediate and inevitable danger,
and the seamen, too conscious of the hopelessness of any exertion,
stood in speechless agony, certain of meeting in a few moments that
destruction which now menaced them.
While I thus surveyed the scene around me in a kind of dread which no
words can figure, Mr. Burns, an officer of dragoons, who had come up
in his shirt, called to Mr. Jenner and Mr. Stains for his cloak;
nobody, however, could attend to any thing in such a moment but
self-preservation.
Mr. Jenner, Mr. Stains and Mr. Dodd the surgeon, now passed me, their
countenances sufficiently expressing their sense of the situation in
which we all were. Mr. Burns spoke cheerfully to me; he bade me take
good courage, and Mr. Jenner observed, there was a good shore near,
and all would do well.
These gentlemen then went to the side of the ship, with the intention,
as I believe, of seeing whether it was possible to get on shore. The
master of the vessel alone remained near the companion; when suddenly
a tremendous wave broke over the ship, and struck me with such
violence, that I was stunned for a moment, and, before being able to
recover myself, the ship struck with a force so great as to throw me
from the stairs into the cabin, the master being thrown down near me.
At the same instant, the cabin, with a dreadful crash, broke in upon
us, and planks and beams threatened to bury us in ruins. The master,
however, soon recovered himself; he left me to go again upon deck, and
I saw him no more.
A sense of my condition lent me strength to disengage myself from the
boards and fragments by which I was surrounded, and I once more got
upon the stairs, I hardly know how. But what a scene did I behold! The
masts were all lying across the shattered remains of the deck, and no
living creature appeared on it; all was gone, though I knew not then
that they were gone forever. I looked forward to the shore, but there
I could see nothing except the dreadful surf that broke against it,
while, behind the ship, immense black waves rose like tremendous
ruins. I knew that they must overwhelm her, and thought that there
could be no escape for me.
Believing, then, that death was immediate and unavoidable, my idea was
to regain my bed in the cabin, and there, resigning myself to the will
of God, await the approaching moment. However, I could not reach it,
and for a while was insensible; then the violent striking and breaking
up of the wreck again roused me to recollection; I found myself near
the cabin-windows, and the water was rising round me. It rapidly
increased, and the horrors of drowning were present to my view; yet do
I remember seeing the furniture of the cabin floating about. I sat
almost enclosed by pieces of the wreck, and the water now reached my
breast.
The bruises I had received made every exertion extremely difficult,
and my loose gown was so entangled among the beams and fragments of
the ship, that I could not disengage it. Still the desire of life, the
hope of being welcomed on shore, whither I thought my friends had
escaped, and the remembrance of my child, all united in inspiring me
with courage to attempt saving myself. I again tried to loosen my
gown, but found it impossible, and the wreck continued to strike so
violently, and the ruins to close so much more around me, that I now
expected to be crushed to death.
As the ship drifted higher on the stones, the water rather lessened as
the waves went back, but on their return, continued to cover me, and I
once or twice lost my breath, and, for a moment, my recollection. When
I had power to think, the principle of self preservation still urged
me to exertion.
The cabin now broke more and more, and through a large breach I saw
the shore very near. Amidst the tumult of the raging waves I had a
glimpse of the people, who were gathering up what the sea drove
towards them; but I thought they could not see me, and from them I
despaired of assistance.--Therefore I determined to make one effort to
preserve my life. I disengaged my arms from the dressing gown, and,
finding myself able to move, I quitted the wreck, and felt myself on
the ground. I attempted to run, but was too feeble to save myself from
a raging wave, which overtook and overwhelmed me. Then I believed
myself gone; yet, half suffocated as I was, I struggled very much, and
I remember that I thought I was very long dying. The wave left me; I
breathed again, and made another attempt to get higher upon the bank,
but, quite exhausted, I fell down and my senses forsook me.
By this time I was observed by some of the people on the bank, and two
men came to my assistance. They lifted me up; I once more recovered
some faint recollection; and, as they bore me along, I was sensible
that one of them said the sea would overtake us; that he must let me
go and take care of his own life. I only remember clinging to the
other and imploring him not to abandon me to the merciless waves.--But
I have a very confused idea of what passed, till I saw the boat, into
which I was to be put to cross the Fleet water; I had then just
strength to say, "For God's sake do not take me to sea again."
I believe the apprehension of it, added to my other sufferings tended
to deprive me of all further sensibility, for I have not the least
recollection of any thing afterwards until roused by the remedies
applied to restore me in a farm-house whither I was carried. There I
heard a number of women around me, who asked a great number of
questions which I was unable to answer. I remember hearing one say I
was a French woman; another say that I was a negro, and indeed I was
so bruised, and in such a disfigured condition, that the conjectures
of these people are not surprising.
When recovering some degree of confused recollection, and able to
speak, I begged that they would allow me to go to bed. This, however,
I did not ask with any expectation of life, for I was now in such a
state of suffering, that my only wish was to be allowed to lie down
and die in peace.
Nothing could exceed the humanity of Mr. Abbot, the inhabitant of
Fleet farm-house, nor the compassionate attention of his sister, Miss
Abbot, who not only afforded me immediate assistance, but continued
for some days to attend me with such kindness and humanity, as I shall
always remember with the sincerest gratitude."
The unfortunate sufferer who gives the preceding account, was tended
with great humanity by Mr. Bryer, while a wound in her foot, and the
dangerous bruises she had received, prevented her from quitting the
shelter she first found under the roof of Mr. Abbot, at Fleet. As soon
as she was in a condition to be removed to Weymouth, Mr. Bryer, a
surgeon there, received her into his own house, where Mrs. Bryer
assisted in administering to her recovery such benevolent offices of
consolation as her deplorable situation admitted. Meantime the
gentlemen of the south battalion of the Gloucester Militia, who had
done every thing possible towards the preservation of those who were
the victims of the tempest, now liberally contributed to alleviate the
pecuniary distresses of the survivors. None seemed to have so forcible
a claim on their pity as this forlorn and helpless stranger; and she
alone, of forty souls, except a single ship-boy, survived the wreck of
the Catharine. There perished, twelve seamen, two soldiers' wives,
twenty-two dragoons and four officers, Lieutenant Stains, Mr. Dodd of
the hospital-staff, Lieutenant Jenner, the representative of an
ancient and respectable family in Gloucestershire, aged thirty-one and
Cornet Burns, the son of an American loyalist of considerable
property, who was deprived of every thing for his adherence to the
British Government.--Having no dependence but on the promises of
government to indemnify those who had suffered on that account he,
after years of distress and difficulty, obtained a cornetcy in the
26th regiment of dragoons, then going to the West Indies, and was thus
lost in his twenty-fourth year. This officer had intended embarking in
another transport, and had actually sent his horse on board, when
finding the Catharine more commodious, he gave her the preference,
while the other put back to Spithead in safety. The mangled remains of
Lieutenant Jenner were two days afterwards found on the beach, and
interred with military honors.
But the Catharine was not the only vessel which suffered in the
tempest. Those who on shore had listened to it raging on the preceding
evening, could not avoid feeling the most lively alarm for the
consequences; and early on the morning of the 18th of November,
several pilots and other persons assembled on the promontory called
the Look-out at Weymouth. Thence they too evidently discovered the
distress and danger of many of the transports.
Soon after, a lieutenant of the navy, residing at Weymouth, applied to
the major of a militia regiment, for a guard to be sent to the Chisell
Bank, as a large ship, supposed to be a frigate, was on shore. This
was immediately granted, and the major himself marched along with a
captain's guard.
The violence of the wind was so great, that the party could with
difficulty reach the place of their destination. There they found a
large merchantman, the Æolus, laden with timber for government, on
shore. Lieutenant Mason of the navy, and his brother, a midshipman,
perished in her, and a number of men who would probably have been
saved had they understood the signals from shore. The men of Portland
who crowded down to the scene of desolation, meant to express, by
throwing small pebbles at them, that they should remain on board, to
make them hear was impossible, because they foresaw the ship would
drive high on the bank. Should that be the case, they might soon leave
her without hazard; and accordingly those who continued on board were
saved, though many of them were dreadfully bruised.
Not far from the same place, the Golden Grove, another merchantman,
was stranded, and in her Dr. Stevens and Mr. Burrows of St. Kitts,
were lost. Lieutenant Colonel Ross, who was also there escaped on
shore. These two vessels had struck against a part of the
Passage-House, almost in the same spot where a French frigate, the
Zenobia, had gone to pieces in 1763.
But the scene of distress was infinitely greater about four miles to
the westward, where, as already related, the Catharine was wrecked.
Along with her, nearly opposite to the villages of Fleet and
Chickerell, the Piedmont and Venus, two transports, and soon after the
Thomas, a merchantman, shared the same fate.
One hundred and thirty-eight soldiers of the 63d regiment, under the
command of Captain Barcroft, were on board the Piedmont; also
Lieutenant Ash and Mr. Kelly, surgeon of the same regiment. Of all
these, only Serjeant Richardson, eleven privates, and four seamen,
survived the catastrophe; all the rest perished.
Captain Barcroft's life had passed in the service. While yet a very
young man, he served in America during the war between England and her
colonies; and being then taken prisoner, was severely treated. On
commencement of the war which has so many years desolated Europe, he
raised a company in his native country, and served with it on the
Continent during the campaign of 1794. Under a heavy fire of the
enemy, he was one of the last men who retreated with it along a single
plank, knee-deep in water, from the siege of Nimeguen. In a few months
after the disastrous retreat on the Continent, in the winter 1794, he
was ordered to the West Indies, and, in the outset of his voyage,
perished in the tempest.
Of the few who reached the shore from the Piedmont, there was scarce
one who was not dreadfully bruised, and some had their limbs broken.
An unfortunate veteran of the 63d, though his leg was shockingly
fractured, had sufficient resolution to creep for shelter under a
fishing boat which lay inverted on the further side of the bank. There
his groans were unheard until a young gentleman, Mr. Smith, a
passenger in the Thomas, who had himself been wrecked, and was now
wandering along the shore, discovered him. In this ship, the Thomas,
bound to Oporto, the master, Mr. Brown, his son, and all the crew,
except the mate, three seamen and Mr. Smith, were lost. The last was
on his way to Lisbon; but his preservation was chiefly in consequence
of his remaining on board after all the rest had left the ship, or
were washed away by the waves. She had then drifted high on the bank,
when he leaped out of her and reached the ground.
Though weak and encumbered by his wet clothes, he gained the opposite
side of the bank, but on gazing on the dreary beach around him, he
considered himself cast away on an uninhabited coast. At length he
observed a fishing-boat, and approaching it, heard the groans of the
unfortunate old soldier, whom he attempted to relieve. But alone he
found himself unable to fulfil his intention, and it was a
considerable time before he observed any means of assistance near. At
last, perceiving a man at some distance, he hastened to him, eagerly
inquiring whether a surgeon could be procured for a poor creature with
a broken limb, who lay under the boat. Probably the man showed little
alacrity, for Mr. Smith found it necessary to purchase his good
offices by a gift of half a-guinea, which he imagined would induce him
to seek what was so much required. But the man, pocketing the
half-guinea with the greatest composure, said he was a king's officer,
and must see what bales of goods were driven on shore; then telling
Mr. Smith there was a ferry about four miles off, by which he might
get to Weymouth. The youth was thus disappointed of his humane design,
and the soldier died in that deplorable condition before any other aid
attained him.
In the Thomas, the vessel to which Mr. Smith belonged, he witnessed
scenes not less distressing. Mr. Brown, the master of the vessel, was
carried away by an immense wave just as he was stripping off his
clothes to endeavor to save himself. His son exclaiming, "Oh my
father, my father! my poor father!" instantly followed. The bodies of
both were afterwards found and interred at Wyke.
Of ninety-six persons on board the Venus, only Mr. John Darley of the
hospital staff, serjeant-major Hearne, twelve soldiers, four seamen
and a boy were saved. Mr. Darley escaped by throwing himself from the
wreck at a moment when it drifted high on the stones; he reached them
without broken limbs, but, overtaken by the furious sea, he was
carried back, not so far, however, that he was incapable of regaining
the ground. Notwithstanding the weight of his clothes and his
exhausted state, he got to the top of the bank, but there the power of
farther exertion failed, and he fell. While lying in this situation,
trying to recover breath and strength, a great many people from the
neighboring villages passed him; they had crossed the Fleet water in
the hopes of sharing the plunder of the vessels which the lower
inhabitants of the coast are too much accustomed to consider their
right.
Mr. Darley seems to have been so far from meeting with assistance
from those who were plundering the dead, without thinking of the
living, that although he saw many boats passing and repassing the
Fleet water, he found great difficulty in procuring a passage for
himself and two or three fellow-sufferers who had now joined him. But
having passed it he soon met with Mr. Bryer, to whose active humanity
all the sufferers were eminently indebted.
Before the full extent of this dreadful calamity was known at
Weymouth, the officers of the South Gloucester Militia, with equal
humanity, were devising how they might best succour the survivors, and
perform the last duties to the remains of those who had perished. On
the morning of the 19th of November, one of them, accompanied by Mr.
Bryer of Weymouth, rode to the villages where those who had escaped
from the various wrecks had found a temporary shelter. In a house at
Chickerell, they found Serjeant Richardson and eleven privates of the
63d regiment; two of the latter had fractured limbs, and almost all
the rest either wounds or bruises. In other houses the sufferers had
been received, and were as comfortably accommodated as circumstances
would admit.
The gentlemen then crossed the Fleet water to the beach, and there,
whatever idea was previously formed of it, the horror of the scene
infinitely surpassed expectation; no celebrated field of carnage ever
presented, in proportion to its size, a more awful sight than the
Chisell Bank now exhibited. For about two miles it was strewed with
the dead bodies of men and animals, with pieces of wreck and piles of
plundered goods, which groups of people were carrying away, regardless
of the sight of drowned bodies that filled the new spectators with
sorrow and amazement.
On the mangled remains of the unfortunate victims, death appeared in
all its hideous forms. Either the sea or the people who had first gone
down to the shore, had stripped the bodies of the clothes which the
sufferers had wore at the fatal moment. The remnants of the military
stock; the wristbands, or color of a shirt, or a piece of blue
pantaloons, were all the fragments left behind.
The only means of distinguishing the officers was the different
appearance of their hands from those of men accustomed to hard labor;
but some were known by the description given of them by their friends
or by persons who were in the vessels along with them. The remains of
Captain Barcroft were recognised by the honorable scars he had
received in the service of his country; and the friends and relatives
of him, and several more, had the satisfaction of learning that their
bodies were rescued from the sea, and interred with military honors.
Early in the morning of the 20th of November, a lieutenant of the
militia regiment who had been appointed to superintend the melancholy
office of interment, repaired to the scene of destruction. But from
the necessary preliminaries of obtaining the authority of a magistrate
to remove the bodies, not more than twenty-five were buried that day.
The bodies of Captain Barcroft, Lieutenant Sutherland, Cornet Graydon,
Lieutenant Ker and two women, were then selected to be put into
coffins. Next day, those of Lieutenant Jenner and Cornet Burns, being
found, were distinguished in the like manner.
The whole number of dead found on the beach, amounted to two hundred
and thirty-four; so that the duty of interment was so heavy and
fatiguing, that it was not until the twenty-third that all the
soldiers and sailors were deposited. Of these there were two hundred
and eight, and they were committed to the earth as decently as
circumstances would admit, in graves dug on the Fleet side of the
beach, beyond the reach of the sea, where a pile of stones was raised
on each, to mark where they lay. Twelve coffins were sent to receive
the bodies of the women, but nine only being found, the supernumerary
ones were appointed to receive the remains of the officers.
Two waggons were next sent to the Fleet water to receive the coffins,
in which the shrouded bodies of seventeen officers and nine women had
been placed, and on the 24th were carried to the church-yard at Wyke,
preceded by a captain, subaltern and fifty men of the Gloucester
Militia, and attended by the young gentleman before mentioned, Mr.
Smith as chief mourner. The officers were interred in a large grave,
north of the church-tower, with military honors, and Lieutenant Ker in
a grave on the other side of the tower. The remains of the nine women,
which had been deposited in the church during the ceremony, were next
committed to the earth.
Two monuments have been erected in commemoration of the unfortunate
sufferers, the first bearing the following inscription:
To the memory of Captain Ambrose William Barcroft, Lieutenant Harry
Ash and Mr. Kelly, surgeon of the 63d regiment of Light Infantry; of
Lieutenant Stephen Jenner, of the 6th West India regiment; Lieutenant
Stains of the 2d West India regiment and two hundred and fifteen
soldiers and seamen and nine women, who perished by shipwreck on
Portland Beach, opposite the villages of Langton, Fleet and
Chickerell, on Wednesday the eighteenth day of November, 1795.
On the second monument is inscribed,
Sacred to the memory of Major John Charles Ker, Military Commandant of
Hospitals in the Leeward Islands, and to that of his son, Lieutenant
James Ker, of the 40th regiment of foot, who both departed this life
on the 18th of November 1795, the first aged 40 and the latter 14
years.
The fate of both was truly deplorable, and is a melancholy example of
the uncertainty of human affairs.
They were embarked in the Venus transport, and left Portsmouth the
15th of November, with a fleet full of troops, destined to the West
Indies, under the command of General Sir Ralph Abercrombe.
A storm having arisen on the 17th which lasted till the next day, many
of the ships were lost, and the Venus wrecked on Portland Beach.
The major's body could not be found, although it is possible it may
have been among the many others which were driven ashore and buried in
this church-yard.
His son's corpse was ascertained, and lies interred under this stone,
which was raised by his brother, John William Ker, Esq.
WRECK OF THE BRITISH SHIP SIDNEY,
ON A REEF OF ROCKS IN THE SOUTH SEA.
The Sidney left Port Jackson, on the coast of New Holland, on the 12th
of April, 1806, bound to Bengal. Intending to proceed through
Dampier's Straits, her course was directed as nearly as possible in
the track of Captain Hogan of the Cornwallis, which, as laid down in
the charts, appeared a safe and easy passage. But, on the 20th of May,
at one A. M. we ran upon a most dangerous rock, or shoal in 3 20 south
latitude, and 146 50 east longitude, and as this reef is not noticed
in any map or chart, it appears that we were its unfortunate
discoverers.
On Sunday 25 fathoms of water were found over the taffrail, and six
fathoms over the larboard gangway; only nine feet on the starboard
side, and 12 feet over the bows. One of the boats was immediately got
out, with a bower-anchor; but on sounding, at the distance of ten
fathoms from the ship, no ground could be found with sixty fathoms of
line.
When she struck it must have been high water, for at that time there
was no appearance of any reef or breaker; but as the water subsided,
the shoal began to show itself, with a number of small black rocks.
The ship had been striking very hard, and began to yield forward. At
three A. M. there were six feet water in the hold, and increasing
rapidly; at five the vessel was setting aft, and her top sides parting
from the floor-heads.
Upon consultation with my officers, it was our unanimous opinion, that
the ship was gone beyond recovery, and that no exertions could avail
for her safety. We therefore employed all hands in getting the boats
ready to receive the crew, who were 108 in number. Eight bags of rice,
six casks of water and a small quantity of salted beef and pork, were
put into the long-boat as provisions for the whole; the number of the
people prevented us from taking a larger stock, as the three boats
were barely sufficient to receive us all with safety.
We remained with the Sidney until five P. M. on the twenty-first of
May, when there were three feet of water on the orlop deck; therefore
we now thought it full time to leave the ship to her fate, and to seek
our safety in the boats. Accordingly, I embarked in the long-boat with
Mr. Trounce, second officer, and 74 Lascars; Mr. Robson and Mr.
Halkart with 16 Lascars, were in the cutter, and the jolly-boat was
allotted to 15 Dutch Malays, and one Seapoy.
Being desirous to ascertain the position of the reef, which could be
done by making the Admiralty Islands, our course was shaped thither,
steering north by east and half east. During the night, it blew fresh,
and the long-boat having made much water, we were obliged to lighten
her, by throwing a great deal of lumber, and two casks of water,
overboard. The three boats kept close in company, the long-boat
having the jolly-boat in tow.
Finding at day-light that the cutter sailed considerably better, I
directed Mr. Robson that the jolly-boat might be taken in tow by her.
But the wind increasing as the morning advanced, and a heavy swell
rising, the jolly-boat, while in tow by the cutter, sunk at ten
o'clock, and all on board, to the number of 16, perished. It was
lamentable to witness the fate of these unhappy men, and the more so,
as it was not in our power to render them the smallest assistance.
The Admiralty Islands were seen at noon of the 22d, bearing N. N. E.
three or four leagues distant, and as we had run about fifty-eight
miles in the boats, upon a N. by E. half E. course, the situation of
the shoal where the Sidney struck was accurately ascertained, and will
be found as above laid down.
From the Admiralty Islands, we continued standing to the westward, and
on the twenty-fifth, made a small island, on which, from its
appearance, I was induced to land in quest of a supply of water.
Therefore Mr. Robson, myself, and 20 of our best hands, armed with
heavy clubs, brought from New Caledonia, (our fire-arms being rendered
useless from exposure to the rain) landed through a high surf, to the
utmost astonishment of the inhabitants.
As far as might be judged, they had never before seen people of our
complexion. The men were tall and well made, wearing their hair
plaited and raised above the head; they had no resemblance to Malays
or Caffres; and excepting their color, which was of a light copper,
they had the form and features of Europeans. They were entirely naked.
We also saw a number of women, who were well formed, and had mild and
pleasing features.
We were received on the beach by about twenty natives, who immediately
supplied each of us with a cocoa-nut. We succeeded in making them
understand that we wanted water, on which they made signs for us to
accompany them to the interior of the island; on compliance, after
walking about a mile, they conducted us into a thick jungle, and, as
their number was quickly increasing, I judged it imprudent to proceed
further. Thus returning to the beach, I was alarmed to find that 150,
or more, of the natives had assembled, armed with spears eight or ten
feet long. One of them, an old man of venerable appearance, and who
seemed to be their chief, approached, and threw his spear at my feet,
expressing as I understood, of his wish that we should part with our
clubs in like manner. Perceiving at this time that a crowd of women
had got hold of the stern-fast of the cutter, and were endeavoring to
haul her on shore from the grapnel, we hastily tried to gain the boat.
The natives followed us closely; some of them pointed their spears at
us as we retreated, and some were thrown, though happily without
effect; and to us they seemed to be very inexpert in the management of
their weapons.--On my getting into the water, three or four of the
natives followed me, threatening to throw their spears, and when I was
within reach of the boat, one of them made a thrust, which was
prevented from taking effect by Mr. Robson, who warded off the weapon.
When we had got into the boat, and were putting off, they threw, at
least, 200 spears, none of which struck, excepting one, which gave a
severe wound to my cook, entering immediately above the jaw, and
passing through his mouth.
Having escaped this perilous adventure we pursued our course, and got
as far as Dampier's Straits, in as favorable circumstances as our
situation could well admit. But the Lascars, now being within reach of
land, became impatient to be put on shore. It was in vain that I
exhorted them to persevere; they would not listen to argument, and
expressed their wish rather to meet with immediate death on shore,
than to be starved to death in the boats. Yielding to their
importunity, I at length determined to land them on the north-west
extremity of the island of Ceram, from whence they might travel to
Amboyna in two or three days. Being off that part of the island on the
ninth of June, Mr. Robson volunteered to land a portion of the people
in the cutter, to return to the long-boat, and the cutter to be then
given up to such further portion of the crew as chose to join the
party first landed.--Accordingly he went ashore with the cutter, but
to my great mortification, after waiting two days, there was no
appearance of his return or of the cutter.
We concluded that the people had been detained either by the Dutch or
the natives. Yet as the remaining part of the Lascars were desirous to
be landed, we stood in with the long-boat, and put them on shore near
the point where we supposed the cutter to have landed her people.
Our number in the long-boat were now reduced to seventeen, consisting
of Mr. Trounce, Mr. Halkart, myself and 14 Lascars and others. Our
stock of provision was two bags of rice and one gang cask of water,
with which we conceived we might hold out until reaching Bencoolen,
whither we determined to make the best of our way. The allowance to
each man we fixed at one tea-cupful of rice and a pint of water daily,
but we soon found it necessary to make a considerable reduction.
Proceeding through the straits of Bantam, we met in our course several
Malay prows, none of which took notice of us excepting one, which gave
chase for a day, and would have come up with us had we not got off
under cover of a very dark night. Continuing onwards, we passed
through the strait of Saypay, where we caught a large shark. Our
spirits were much elated by this valuable prize, which we lost no time
in getting on board; and having kindled a fire in the bottom of the
boat, it was roasted with all expedition. Such was the keenness of our
appetite, that although the shark must have weighed 150 or 160 pounds,
not a vestige of it remained at the close of the day. But we were
afflicted on the following day with the most violent complaint of the
stomach and bowels, which reduced us exceedingly, and left us languid
and spiritless, insomuch that we now despaired of safety.
On the 2d of July I lost an old and faithful servant, who died from
want of sustenance; and on the fourth we made Java head; at the same
time catching two large boobies, which afforded all hands a most
precious and refreshing meal. At midnight of the ninth, we came to off
Pulo Penang, on the west coast of Sumatra; but at day-light, when
endeavoring to weigh our anchor and run close in shore, we were so
much exhausted that our united strength proved insufficient to get it
up.
On a signal of distress being made, a sanpan with two Malays came off,
and as I was the only person in the long-boat who had sufficient
strength to move, I accompanied them on shore. However, I found myself
so weak on landing that I fell to the ground, and it was necessary to
carry me to an adjacent house. Such refreshments as could be procured
were immediately sent off to the long-boat, and we recruited so
rapidly that in two days we found ourselves in a condition to proceed
on our voyage. Having weighed anchor on the 12th of July, we set sail,
and on the 19th arrived off the island of Bencoolen.
Here I met with an old friend, Captain Chauvet of the Perseverance,
whose kindness and humanity I shall ever remember and gratefully
acknowledge. On the day subsequent to my arrival, I waited on Mr. Parr
the resident, from whom I received every attention.
Leaving Bencoolen on the 17th of August, in the Perseverance, I
arrived at Penang on the 27th, where I was agreeably surprized to
meet my late chief mate Mr. Robson, who, along with the Lascars, had
landed at Ceram. They reached Amboyna in safety, where they were
received by the Dutch governor, Mr. Cranstoun, with a humanity and
benevolence that reflect honor on his character. He supplied them
with whatever their wants required. Mr. Robson was accommodated at
his own table, and, on leaving Amboyna, he furnished him money for
himself and his people, for the amount of which he refused to take
any receipt or acknowledgment. He also gave Mr. Robson letters to the
governor-general of Batavia, recommending him to his kind offices.
Such honorable conduct from the governor of a foreign country, and
with which we were at war, cannot be too widely promulgated. From
Amboyna, Mr. Robson embarked in the Pallas a Dutch frigate, for
Batavia, which on the passage thither was captured by his Majesty's
ships Greyhound and Harriet, and brought to Prince of Wales's island.
From Penang I sailed to Bengal with the Paruna, Captain Denison, and
arrived safely in Calcutta in the beginning of May, 1806.
LOSS OF THE DUKE WILLIAM TRANSPORT.
The Duke William Transport, commanded by Captain Nicholls, was fitted
out by him with all possible expedition in the year 1758, and lay at
Spithead to receive orders. At length he proceeded to Cork, under
convoy of the York man-of-war to take in soldiers for America, but
just on approaching the Irish coast, a thick fog came on whereby he
lost sight of the ship, and as it began to blow hard that night and
the next day, he was obliged to bear away for Waterford. When off
Credenhead, guns were fired for a pilot; none, however, came off, and
Captain Nicholls, being unacquainted with the harbor, brought the ship
up, though the sea ran very high. A pilot at last came on board, but
the transport broke from her anchor, and on getting under sail, it was
almost dark. After running along for some time under the fore-topsail,
triple-reefed, and scarce in sight of land, Captain Nicholls cast
anchor; and next morning to his great surprise, found high rocks so
close astern, that he durst not veer away a cable.--The sheet anchor
had been let go in the night, and was the chief means of preservation;
the yards and topmasts were now got down, a signal of distress
hoisted, and many guns fired. A boat then came from the windward, and
a man in her said, if Captain Nicholls would give him fifty pounds, he
would come on board, which being promised, he ascended the stern
ladder. But when he found the ship so near the rocks, he declared that
he would not remain on board for all the ship was worth. However,
Captain Nicholls told him, that having come off as a pilot acquainted
with the harbor, he should stay and called to the people in the boat
to hoist their sails, as he was going to cut her adrift, which he did
accordingly. Meantime the pilot was in the greatest confusion; but the
captain said it was in vain to complain, and if by cutting, or
slipping the cables, he could carry the ship to a place of safety, he
was ready to do it. The pilot replied, that he could neither take
charge of her, nor venture to carry her in, for he apprehended the
ship would be on shore, and dashed to pieces against the rocks, before
she would veer; and if she did veer, that a large French East Indiaman
had been lost upon the bar, which made the channel very narrow, and he
did not know the marks, so as to carry her clear of the wreck. The
ship now rode very hard, and it being Sunday a great many people were
ready on shore to plunder her, should she strike. Of this Captain
Nicholls entertained many apprehensions at low water, as she pitched
so much; but fortunately, as the weather became more moderate, two
English frigates which lay in the harbor, sent their boats to his
assistance, and the custom-house smack arriving, he escaped, though
very narrowly, from the threatened danger.
The Duke William soon afterwards proceeded to Cork to receive
soldiers, and sailed from thence with a fleet of transports to
Halifax, where they arrived safe, and went to besiege Louisbourg.
After landing the troops, the transports, and some of the men of war,
went into Gabarus Bay, where the admiral allowed the captains of the
former to land their men, being sickly, on a small peninsula, which
they engaged to defend from the enemy. Four or five hundred people,
therefore, immediately set to work, and cut a ditch, six feet wide and
four feet deep, quite across the peninsula, as a protection against
the Indians; they planted cannon, and also placed several swivels on
the stumps of trees cut down for the purpose. Huts were next erected,
gardens made, and the whole ground cleared and converted into pleasant
arbours, from selecting portions of the shrubs and trees.
Here the captains of the transports remained some time, during which
the sick recovered surprisingly, and cures were operated by a
remarkable expedient, called a ground-sweat. This was digging a hole
in the ground, and, being put into it naked, the earth was thrown over
the patient up to the chin, for a few minutes. At first the earth felt
cold, but it quickly brought on a gentle perspiration, which cured the
disorder.--No one person died who underwent such treatment.
On the reduction of Louisbourg, the island of St. John, in the
entrance of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, capitulated, and the inhabitants
were to be sent to France in the English transports. They therefore
left the peninsula, which the people had entrenched, and, after much
bad weather, in which the Duke William parted her cable, and after a
tedious passage, arrived at St. John's; but not without the whole
fleet being in danger of shipwreck. A party of soldiers brought the
inhabitants down the country to the different transports, and the Duke
William, being the largest, the missionary priest, who was the
principal man there, was ordered to go with Captain Nicholls. On his
arrival, he requested permission for the other people who wished it,
to come on board to be married, and a great many marriages followed,
from an idea prevailing that all the single men would be made
soldiers.
Nine transports sailed in company; Captain Wilson with Lord Rollo and
some soldiers, and Captain Moore also with soldiers, under convoy of
the Hind sloop of war; the rest being cartels, had no occasion for
convoy. Captain Moore's vessel was lost going through the Gut of
Canso, by striking on a sunken rock, whence the soldiers whom she
carried were put on board Captain Wilson's ship bound to Louisbourg.
Captain Moore, his son, mate and carpenter, took a passage in the Duke
William.
Contrary winds obliged the fleet to lie in the Gut of Canso, where
the French prisoners were permitted to go ashore frequently, and
remain there all night, making fires in a wood to keep themselves
warm, and some of them obtained muskets from Captain Nicholls for
shooting game, as they were not afraid of meeting with the Indians.
About three hours after departing, one of them came running back, and
begged, for God's sake, that the Captain would immediately return on
board with his people, as they had met with a party of Indians, who
were coming down to scalp them. Captain Nicholls, with the other
masters and sailors, hastily went off, and had scarce got on board
when the Indians actually reached the place that they had left. Thus
they had a very narrow escape of being murdered and scalped, had not
the French been faithful, and Providence interposed.
The fleet, in gaining the Gut of Canso, had been assailed by dangers.
During a fine night, some of the transports, worked within the Gut,
but Captain Nicholls, and Captain Johnson of the Parnassus, cast
anchor without it.
In the night a hard gale arose, and increased so much, that the latter
let go three anchors, yet the ship drove ashore and was lost. Another
ship, the Narcissus, also parted from her anchors, and was obliged to
run ashore, and most of the rest suffered damage. When the weather
became somewhat moderate, Captain Nicholls, found that all the French
prisoners on board the Parnassus, had gained the land, and had made
themselves large fires in the woods, on account of the cold showery
weather which prevailed; and, on joining them there, he told them, to
their great joy, that he would send boats to carry them off. This he
did next morning, and, finding it impossible to save the hull of the
Parnassus, though another ship was got off shore, every thing worth
saving was taken out of her, and in particular one of the pumps, which
was carried on board the Duke William to serve in case of emergency.
On the 25th of November 1758, Captain Nicholls sailed from the Bay of
Canso, leading other six transports, with a strong breeze at
north-west. All the captains agreed to make the best of their way to
France, and not to go to Louisbourg, as it was a bad time of the year
to beat on that coast, and then took leave of the agent who was bound
thither.
The third day after being at sea, a storm blew in the night; being
dark with thick weather and sleet, the Duke William parted company
with three of the ships, and the storm still continuing, in a day or
two parted with the rest. Nevertheless the ship remained in good
condition, and, though the sea was mountains high, she went over it
like a bird, and made no water. On the 10th of December, Captain
Nicholls saw a sail, which proved to be one of the transports, the
Violet, Captain Sugget. On coming up he asked how all were on board,
to which Captain Sugget replied, "In a terrible situation. He had a
great deal of water in the ship; her pumps were choked, and he was
much afraid that she would sink before morning." Captain Nicholls
begged him to keep up his spirits, and said, that, if possible, he
would stay by him and spare him the pump he had got out of the
Parnassus; he also told him that, as the gale had continued so long,
he hoped that it would moderate after twelve o'clock. Unfortunately,
however, it rather increased, and, on changing the watch at twelve, he
found that he went fast a-head of the Violet, whence, if he did not
shorten sail, he would be out of sight of her before morning. Captain
Nicholls then consulted with Captain Moore and the mate, on what was
most proper to be done, and all were unanimous, that the only means of
saving the people in the Violet, was to keep company with her until
the weather should moderate, and that the main-topsail should be taken
in.
Therefore, the main-topsail of the Duke William was taken in, and
three pumps got out to be ready in case of necessity. The spare pump
was forced down an after hatchway, and shipped in an empty butt, of
which the French had brought several on board to wash in. Every thing
was preparing, both for pumping and bailing, should it be required,
and the people of the transport thought themselves secure against all
hazards; they now believed that the Violet gained on them, and were
glad to see her quite plain about four o'clock in the afternoon.
On changing the watch they found the ship still tight and going very
well, the carpenter assuring Captain Nicholls that there was no water
to strike a pump. He, fatigued with walking the deck so long, designed
going below to smoke a pipe of tobacco to beguile time, and desired
the mate to acquaint him immediately should any alteration take place.
The board next the lower part of the pump had been driven to see how
much water was in the well; and every half hour, when the ball was
struck, the carpenter went down. As he had hitherto found no water,
Captain Nicholls felt quite comfortable in his situation in
particular, and, on going below, ordered a little negro boy, whom he
had as an apprentice, to get him a pipe of tobacco.
Soon after filling and lighting his pipe, he was thrown from his
chair, while sitting in his state-room, by a blow that the ship
received from a terrible sea; on which he dispatched the boy to ask
Mr. Fox, the mate, whether any thing was washed over. Mr. Fox returned
answer, that all was safe, and he saw the Violet coming up fast.
Captain Nicholls then being greatly fatigued, thought he would
endeavor to procure refreshment from a little sleep, and, without
undressing, threw himself on the side of his bed. But before his eyes
were closed, Mr. Fox came to inform him that the carpenter had found
the water above the kelson, and that the ship had certainly sprung a
leak; he immediately rose and took the carpenter down to the hold
along with him, when, to his infinite surprise, he heard the water
roaring in dreadfully. On further examination, he found that a butt
had started, and the more they endeavored to press any thing into it
the more the plank forsook the timber. Therefore they went on deck, to
encourage the people at the pumps, after making a mark with chalk to
ascertain how the water gained upon them.
Captain Nicholls, considering the case desperate, went to all the
Frenchmen's cabins, begging them to rise; he said, that, although
their lives were not in danger, their assistance was desired at the
pumps, where it would be of the greatest service. They got up
accordingly, and cheerfully lent their aid. By this time it was
day-light, when, to the great surprise and concern of the Duke
William's people, they saw the Violet on her broadside at a little
distance, the fore yard broke in the slings, the fore-topsail set, and
her crew endeavoring to free her of the mizen-mast; probably she had
just then broached to by the fore-yard giving way. A violent squall
came on, which lasted for ten minutes, and when it cleared up, they
discovered that the unfortunate ship had gone to the bottom, with
nearly four hundred souls. The stoutest was appalled by the event,
especially as their own fate seemed to be approaching.
All the tubs above mentioned were prepared, and gangways made; the
Frenchmen assisted, and also the women, who behaved with uncommon
resolution. The hatches were then opened, and as the water flowed fast
into the hold, the tubs being filled, were hauled up and emptied on
the upper deck, which, with three pumps constantly at work, and
bailing out of the gun-room scuttle, discharged a great quantity of
water. A seam would have done them little injury; but a butt's end was
more than they could manage, though every method that could be deemed
serviceable was tried. The spritsail was quilted with oakum and flax,
and one of the top-gallant sails was prepared in the same manner, to
see whether any thing would sink into the leak, but all in vain.
In this dismal condition the transport continued three days;
notwithstanding all the exertions of the people, she was full of
water, and they expected her to sink every minute. They had already
got the whole liquor and provisions. The hold now being full, and the
ship swimming only by the decks from the buoyancy of empty casks
below, the people, about six o'clock on the fourth morning, came to
Captain Nicholls, declaring that they had done all that lay in their
power, that the ship was full of water, and that it was in vain to
pump any more. Captain Nicholls acknowledged the truth of what they
said; he told them that he could not desire them to do more, that they
had behaved like brave men, and must now trust in Providence alone, as
there was no expedient left for saving their lives.
He then acquainted the priest with their situation; that every method
for saving the ship and the lives of the people had been adopted, but
that he expected the decks to blow up every moment. The priest was
stunned by the intelligence, but answered, that he would immediately
go and give his people absolution for dying; "which he did," says
Captain Nicholls; "and I think a more melancholy scene cannot be
supposed than so many people, hearty, strong and in health, looking at
each other with tears in their eyes, bewailing their unhappy
condition. No fancy can picture the seeming distraction of the poor
unhappy children clinging to their mothers, and the wives hanging over
their husbands, lamenting their miserable fate:--Shocking situation!
words cannot describe it."
Captain Nicholls then called the men down the main-hatchway, along
with him, to examine the leak in the hold. He told them they must be
content with their fate; and as they were certain they had done their
duty, they should submit to Providence with pious resignation. He
walked on deck with Captain Moore, desiring him to devise any
expedient to save them from perishing. With tears in his eyes, Captain
Moore assured him that he knew of none, as all that could be thought
of had been used. Providence, in Captain Nicholls' belief, induced him
to propose attempting to hoist out the boats, so that if a ship should
appear, their lives might be saved, as the gale was more moderate. But
to this proposal, Captain Moore said it would be impossible, as every
body would endeavor to get into them. Captain Nicholls, however, was
of a different opinion, observing, that, under their severe trial, the
sailors had behaved with uncommon resolution, and were very obedient
to his commands, he flattered himself that they would all continue so;
and all were sensible, that in case the ship broached to, the masts
must be cut away, to prevent her from oversetting; when it would be
beyond their power to hoist out the boats. He then called the mates,
carpenters and men and proposed to get out the boats, at the same time
acquainting them that it was to save every soul on board if possible,
and declaring that if any person should be so rash as to insist on
going into them, besides those he should think proper, that they
should immediately be scuttled. But all solemnly maintained that his
commands should be as implicitly obeyed as if the ship had been in her
former good condition; thus setting an example which is rarely to be
found.
Captain Nicholls then went to acquaint the chief prisoner on board
with what was about to be attempted. He was an hundred and ten years
old, the father of the whole island of St. John's, and had a number of
children, grand-children and other relations, in the ship. His
observation was, that he was convinced Captain Nicholls would not do a
bad action, for, by experience, he had found how much care he had
taken of him and his friends, and likewise what endeavors had been
used to save the ship and their lives; therefore they were ready to
assist in any thing he should propose. Captain Nicholls assured him
that he would not forsake them, but run an equal chance; this he
thought the only means of saving their lives, should it please
Providence to send any ship to their assistance, and it was their duty
to use all means given to them.
He next asked Mr. Fox and the carpenter whether they were willing to
venture in the long-boat, to which they boldly answered in the
affirmative, as, whether they perished on the spot, or a mile or two
farther off, was a matter of very little consequence, and as there was
no prospect but death in remaining, they would willingly make the
attempt. Captain Moore, the carpenter and mate, also willingly agreed
to his proposal to go in the cutter.
The cutter was accordingly got over the side, and the ship lying
pretty quiet, they cut the tackles, when she dropt very well into the
water, and the penter brought her up. They next went to work with the
long-boat, and day-light having fairly come in, gave them great
spirits, as they flattered themselves, should it please God Almighty
to send a ship, it would be in their power to save all their lives,
the weather being now much more moderate than before.
The mate and carpenter having cut the runners, the long-boat fell into
the water as well as the cutter had done, and a proper penter being
made fast, she brought up properly.
People were stationed at the main and fore-topmast-heads to look out
for a sail, when to the unspeakable joy of all on board, the man at
the main-topmast cried out that he saw two ships right astern making
after the transport. Captain Nicholls having acquainted the priest,
and the old gentleman, with the good news, the latter took him in his
aged arms, and wept for joy. The captain ordered the ensign to be
hoisted to the main-topmast shrouds, and the guns to be got all clear
for firing. The weather was very hazy, and the ships not far distant
when first discovered; whenever the transport hoisted her signal of
distress, they shewed English colors, and seemed to be West Indiamen;
of about three or four hundred tons.
Captain Nicholls continued loading and firing as fast as possible,
when he perceived the two ships speak with each other, and setting
their foresail and topsails, they hauled their wind, and stood off.
Supposing that the size of his ship, and her having so many men on
board, added to its being the time of war, might occasion distrust, he
ordered the main-mast to be cut away to undeceive them. People had
been placed in the shrouds to cut away in case of necessity; but one
of the shrouds not being properly cut, checked the main-mast and made
it fall right across the boats. On this Captain Nicholls hastily ran
aft, and cut the penters of both the boats, otherwise they would have
been staved to pieces, and sunk immediately. A dismal thing it was to
cut away what could be the only means of saving the people's lives,
and at the same time see the ships so basely leave them. No words can
picture their distress; driven from the greatest joy to the utmost
despair, death now appeared more dreadful. They had only the foresail
hanging in the brails; and the braces of both penters being rendered
useless by the fall of the main-mast, and the yard flying backward and
forward by the rolling of the ship, rendered them apprehensive that
she would instantly overset. The ship ran from the boats, until they
remained just in sight; and finding they made no endeavor to join her,
though each was provided with oars, foremast and foresail, Captain
Nicholls consulted with the boatswain on what was most proper to be
done in their dangerous condition. He said that he thought they
should bring the ship to at all events, though he acknowledged it a
dreadful alternative to hazard her oversetting; the boatswain agreed
that it was extremely dangerous, as the vessel steered very well.
However, Captain Nicholls finding that the men in the boat did not
attempt to join him, called the people aft, and told them his
resolution. They said it was desperate, and so was their condition,
but they were ready to do whatever he thought best. But Captain Moore
seemed to be quite against it. Captain Nicholls then acquainted the
old gentleman, the priest and the rest of the people, who were pleased
to say, let the consequence be what it might, they should be
satisfied, he had acted for the best, and all were resigned to the
consequences.
He therefore ordered men to every fore shroud, and one with an axe to
the foremast to cut it away should that measure become indispensable.
But his own situation he declares to have been in the meantime
dreadful; in reflecting that this alternative, though in his judgment
right, might be the means of sending nearly four hundred souls to
eternity. However, the Almighty endowed him with resolution to
persevere, and he gave orders to bring the ship to. In hauling out the
mizen, which had been greatly chafed, it split; a new staysail was
then bent to bring the ship to, which had the desired effect after a
considerable time, for a heavy sea striking on the starboard quarter,
excited an apprehension that it would be necessary to cut away the
mast. When the men in the yawl saw the ship lying to for them, they
got up their foremast, and ran on board, holding the sheets in their
hands on account of the wind; and as soon as they arrived some men
were sent to row to the assistance of the long-boat. They soon joined
her, got her foremast up, set the sail, as the cutter likewise did,
and to the great joy of all, reached the ship in safety.
Just as the boats came up, the people at the mast-head exclaimed, "A
sail! a sail!" and the captain thought it better to let the ship lie,
as by seeing the main-mast gone, it might be known that she was in
distress. The weather was hazy, and he could see to no great distance,
but the strange vessel was soon near enough to perceive and hear his
guns. She had scarce hoisted her colors, which were Danish, when her
main-topsail sheet gave way; on observing which, Captain Nicholls
conceiving her main-topsail was to be clewed up, and she would come to
his assistance, immediately imparted the good news to the priest and
the rest. Poor deluded people, they hugged him in their arms, calling
him their friend and preserver; but, alas! it was short lived joy,
for as soon as the Dane had knotted, or spliced her topsail sheet, she
stood away, and left them. "What pen is able," says Captain Nicholls,
"to describe the despair that reigned in the ship!" The poor unhappy
people wringing their hands, cried out, "that God had forsaken them."
It was now about three in the afternoon; Captain Nicholls wore the
ship, which she bore very well, and steered tolerably before the wind.
Towards half an hour afterwards, the old gentleman came to him in
tears, and taking him in his arms, said he came by desire of the whole
people to request that he and his men would endeavor to save their
lives in the boats, and as these were insufficient to carry more, they
would by no means be accessory to their destruction; they were well
convinced by their whole conduct that they had done every thing in
their power for their preservation; but that God Almighty had ordained
them to perish, though they trusted he and his men would get safe on
shore. Such gratitude for only doing a duty in endeavoring to save the
lives of the prisoners, as well as their own, astonished Captain
Nicholls; he replied, that there was no hopes of life, and as all had
embarked in the same unhappy voyage, they should all take the same
chance. He thought that they ought to share the same fate. The old
gentleman said that should not be, and if he did not acquaint his
people with the offer he should have their lives to answer for.
Accordingly the captain mentioned it to Captain Moore and the people.
They said that they would with the greatest satisfaction remain, could
any thing be devised for the preservation of the others; but that
being impossible, they would not refuse to comply with their request.
The people then thanking them for their great kindness, with tears in
the eyes of all, hastened down the stern ladder.
As the boats ranged up by the sea under the ships counter, those that
went last cast themselves down, and were caught by the men in the
boat. Captain Nicholls told them, he trusted to their honor that they
would not leave him, as he was determined not to quit the ship until
it was dark, in hopes that Providence would yet send something to
their aid; the whole assured him that he should not be deserted.
He had a little Norse boy on board, whom no entreaties could persuade
to enter the boat until he himself had done so; but as it was growing
dark, he insisted on the boy's going, saying he would immediately
follow him. The boy obeyed, and got on the stern ladder, when a
Frenchman whom the dread of death induced to quit his wife and
children unperceived, made over the taffrail and trod on the Norse
boy's fingers. The boy screamed aloud, which led Captain Nicholls to
believe that some person was in danger, and on repairing to the place,
followed by the old gentleman, they found to their great surprise,
that the man, who had a wife and children on board, was attempting to
get away and save himself. The old gentleman calling him by his name,
said he was sorry to find him base enough to desert his family. He
seemed ashamed of what he had done, and returned over the taffrail. By
this time, the people of the boat begged the captain to come, as the
blows she received from below the ship's counter, were like to sink
her.
Captain Nicholls seeing the priest stretching his arms over the rails
in great emotion, and apparently under strong apprehensions of death,
asked him whether he was willing to take his chance in the boat. He
replied in the affirmative, if there was room; and on learning that
there was, he immediately went and gave the people his benediction;
and after saluting the old gentleman, tucked up his conical robes and
forsook the vessel. Captain Nicholls saluted him likewise, and several
others, and then left them praying for his safety.
When he entered the boat he bid the sailors cast her adrift; it was
very dark, and they had neither moon nor stars to direct them. "What a
terrible situation!" he exclaims, "we were twenty-seven in the
long-boat, and nine in the cutter, without victuals or drink."
Uncertain of their distance from the English coast, they agreed to
keep as close as possible to the ship.
It began to blow very fresh, with sleet and snow; the people were
fatigued to the uttermost, from working so long at the pumps, and
after sitting in the wet and cold, they began to wish that they had
staid in the ship and perished, as now they might die a lingering
death. Either alternative was awful. Destitute of provision, it was
most probable that one must be sacrificed by lot to keep the others
alive; and their dismal situation, in arousing the most horrible
anticipations, made them forbode the worst.
The boats now began to make water, yet the men refused to bail them,
they were in a state of such extreme weariness, and not having slept
for four nights, became regardless of their fate. Captain Nicholls,
nevertheless, prevailed on them to free the long-boat of water.
Having a brisk gale, they soon ran a long way from their unfortunate
ship, when to their great distress, it fell quite calm at ten in the
morning. This threw the people in despair, their courage began to
fail, and as they could not expect to live so long as to make the
land, death seemed again staring them in the face.
Some time after this unlucky party forsook the ship, four of the
French prisoners let a small jolly-boat, which was still remaining,
overboard, with two small paddles, and swam to her; and just as they
left the vessel, her decks blew up with a report like a gun. She sunk
in the ocean, and three hundred and sixty souls perished with her.
Captain Nicholls, at length observing the water colored, asked whether
they had any twine, on which one of them gave him a ball from his
pocket; they knocked the bolts off the knees of the long-boat,
wherewith to make a deep-sea lead, and sounding with it were rejoiced
to find only 45 fathom water. But the people complaining greatly of
hunger and thirst, Captain Nicholls said he was sorry to acquaint them
that he had nothing for them to eat or drink, yet encouraged them to
bear up with manly resolution, as by their soundings they were near
Scilly, and he doubted not, if it cleared, that they should see the
land.
The little Norse boy, who had always kept close by the captain, now
said that he had got some bread, and on taking it from the bosom of
his shirt, it proved to be like baker's dough; however, it was bread,
and very acceptable. The whole might amount to about four pounds; and
Captain Nicholls having put it into his hat, distributed it equally,
calling for those in the yawl to receive their share. But instead of
being a relief, it increased their troubles, for being wet and clammy,
it hung to the roof of their mouths, having nothing to wash it down.
Mr. Fox had some allspice also, which was of little service; having
been cut in pieces, the people forced it down their throats, which
created some saliva, and by that means it was swallowed.
About noon, a light air sprung up at south-west. Each boat had a
foremast, foresail and oars; but owing to the boats having been foul
of the main-mast, all the oars were washed away except two from each.
Captain Nicholls was told, in answer to his inquiries concerning a
noise among the crew, that two seamen were disputing about a couple of
blankets, which one of them had brought from the ship. These blankets
he ordered to be thrown overboard, rather than they should be
suffered to breed any quarrel, as in their unhappy condition it was no
time to have disputes. But on reflection having desired that they
should be brought to him, he thought of converting them to use, by
forming each into a main-sail. Therefore, one oar was erected for a
main-mast, and the other broke to the breadth of the blankets for a
yard. The people in the cutter observing what was done in the
long-boat, converted a hammock which they had on board into a
main-sail.
At four in the afternoon it cleared up, when the adventurers descried
a brig about two miles distant, to which Captain Nicholls ordered the
cutter to give chase, as it being lighter than the long-boat, would
sooner get up, and let her know their distress. But the brig, seeing
the boats after their course, directly stood from them, owing, as
Captain Nicholls supposed, to their odd appearance. For war then
prevailing, they were probably taken for the French lugsail-boats,
that used to frequent the lands off Scilly. The cutter, however,
gained fast on the brig, when, having got about half way, a very thick
fog came on, and neither the brig nor the cutter were again seen from
the long-boat.
Night fell, and the weather still continuing very foggy, the people,
almost dead for want of sleep, reposed themselves, sitting half way in
water, it being impossible for so many to find seats. Their captain,
anxious for their lives and his own, strove to keep his eyes open,
though it was the fifth night that he had taken no rest. About eleven
o'clock, when every one was asleep but the helmsman and himself, he
thought that he saw land. Yet he was determined not to call out land
until he should be sure that it was so. He squeezed his eyelids
together to let the water run out of his eyes, as he found them very
dim.
Again he thought he saw land very plain, and was convinced that he
could not be deceived. By this time the man at the helm had dropped
asleep, and he took the tiller himself.--Some space longer elapsed
before he would disturb any body, but at last he awoke Captain Moore,
telling him he thought he saw land. Captain Moore only answered that
they should never see land again. Captain Nicholls then awoke Mr. Fox,
who had obtained a sound sleep, and seemed quite refreshed. He
immediately cried out that they were near land and close in with the
breakers. Lucky it was that he had been awakened, otherwise, Captain
Nicholls, from being absolutely unacquainted with them, was satisfied
that all on board would have perished.
At the word land every one awoke, and, with some difficulty, the boat
cleared the rocks. At first the precise part of the English coast
could not be ascertained, but, as it cleared more and more every
moment, Captain Nicholls, on looking under the lee-leech of the
blanket main-sail, discerned St. Michael's Mount in Mount's Bay. The
boat would not fetch the land near Penzance, and, as she had no oars,
it was determined to avoid steering round the Lizard and so for
Falmouth, but to run her boldly on shore, whatever place she might
chance to make. It was a fine night, and, after getting round the
point, the people found the water very smooth; keeping the boat close
to the wind, they made between Penzance and the point.
Their joy at finding themselves in so favorable a situation, is not to
be conceived; it gave them new life and strength.--Those who were
forward, exclaimed that there were two rocks ahead, Captain Nicholls
hastened before, and his sight having come well to him, he carried the
boat between them without touching ground, and in a little time ran
her ashore on a sandy beach.
The seamen leapt into the water, and carried the priest and the
captain ashore. The former, kneeling down, made a short prayer, and
then coming to embrace Captain Nicholls, called him his preserver, and
said that he had rescued him from death.
Leaving the boat as she lay, all made the best of their way to the
town of Penzance. But some of the people, with sleeping wet, were so
much benumbed, that they could scarce get along; and captain Nicholls
himself declares, that, from the time of the ship's springing a leak,
until that hour, he had had no sleep, and very little sustenance.
However, having fallen in with a run of fresh water on the road to
Penzance, all were revived by drinking heartily of it.
The party, reaching the town about three in the morning, made up to a
tavern where they saw a light, and, as it had been a market day, the
mistress of the house was still up.--When Captain Nicholls entered by
the door, which was not locked, she was undressing, with her back to a
fire, the light he had seen, and being greatly alarmed, screamed,
"Murder! thieves!"
The appearance of twenty-seven people at such an unseasonable hour,
was certainly enough to create apprehension, especially from the
condition which they were in. But the captain endeavoring to pacify
her, requested she would call her husband or servants, as they were
shipwrecked men, and give them some refreshment. The landlord soon
came, and, having provided provisions, the people got into as many
beds as were there, while the rest of them slept on the floor by the
side of the fire.
Next morning the captain, accompanied by the priest, went to the Mayor
of the town to make a protest before a notary, and to see if he could
get credit, as both he and the people were in want of every necessary,
and it was many miles to London. The Mayor received him kindly, but
told him that he was no merchant, and that he never supplied people in
the condition that he was in, with money, but if he pleased, he would
send a servant with him to Mr. Charles Langford, a merchant who
generally supplied the masters of vessels in distress with
necessaries. Mr. Langford received Captain Nicholls politely, but, in
answer to his request for credit, said, that he had made a resolution
not to supply with credit any man to whom he was an entire stranger,
as he had been deceived by one very lately; and, though his might have
been a large ship, to judge by the boat which was come on shore, he,
the captain, might not be concerned in her, and, as he should want a
great deal of money, he should beg to be excused.--Captain Nicholls
answered, that he was partly owner of the ship, and Mr. Langford might
be certain that his bills were duly honored. However, he said he could
not do it.
Captain Nicholls, grievously disappointed, returned to the inn, where
several tradesmen had arrived to furnish the people with clothes and
other necessaries. He told the latter he could get no credit, but that
they must travel on as far as Exeter, where he was sure of obtaining
relief, which was very unwelcome news, as most of the people wanted
shoes. The captain next requested the landlord of the inn to get them
some breakfast, but he desired to be excused, and wished to know if
the captain could get no credit, how he was to be paid. Captain
Nicholls was quite at a loss how to act; being denied both credit and
victuals, he thought that he would pawn or sell his ring, watch,
buckles and buttons. Accordingly, returning to Mr. Langford, he begged
he would give him what he thought proper for these things. He took the
ring from his finger, the watch from his pocket, and, with tears in
his eyes was going to take the buckles from his shoes, when Mr.
Langford prevented him, saying he should have credit for as much as he
pleased, for he believed him to be an honest man, and saw that his
people's distress touched him more, if possible, than his own
misfortunes. He then gave what money the captain required.
During these transactions, the second mate and the eight men belonging
to the cutter arrived. They said it was so very thick they could not
come up with the brig which they were in pursuit of, and that, seeing
the Lands-End when it cleared, they got ashore. As nobody would buy
the cutter, they had left her, and had inquired the way to Penzance,
where, being in great distress, they rejoiced to meet their comrades.
Captain Nicholls went to the inn and discharged what was owing; on
account of the unkindness which he had experienced, he resolved to
stay no longer, and repaired to another house to breakfast. He next
procured the necessaries wanted by his people, and then went with his
mates to make a protest. But, not choosing that the declaration should
proceed from his own mouth, Mr. Langford's son acted as interpreter to
the French priest, who was to make it. The priest accordingly made a
strong and full affidavit, that Captain Nicholls and his people had
tried every means to keep the ship above water; that they had used the
French all the time they were on board, with the greatest kindness and
humanity, and that Captain Nicholls had parted from them with the
greatest reluctance, and even at their own desire went into the boat,
after all hopes of life were gone.
Having remained another day at Penzance to refresh the people, and
getting credit for what was wanted, Captain Nicholls, Captain Moore
and the officers set out in a carriage for Exeter, while the people,
who had got a pass from the Mayor, walked on foot. At Redruth, a town
in Cornwall, there were many French officers on parole, as also an
English Commissary. Captain Nicholls accompanied the priest to the
latter in quest of a pass to Falmouth, that he might embark in the
first cartel for France; and here took leave of him.
Captain Nicholls having reached London, was under the necessity of
being examined at the Admiralty and Navy Office, about the loss of the
people and the ship, she being a transport in the service of
government. The Lords of the Admiralty and Commissioners of the Navy
told him that he might say more than any man living, as he had brought
ashore with him the first man of France, a priest, of course an enemy
to both their religion and country: if his behaviour had not been
good, he would not have attempted it; but at the same time, they
acknowledged that without such a proof, they could not have believed,
but finding all hopes gone, he and his people got away by some
stratagem. They would pay they said to the hour that the ship
foundered, and were very sorry that they could do no more.
The four Frenchmen above mentioned, who had left the transport in the
little boat subsequent to the departure of Captain Nicholls and his
men, got into Falmouth within two days.
So ended this dreadful and unfortunate voyage, with the loss of a fine
ship and three hundred and sixty souls.
COMMODORE BARNEY.
No old Triton who has passed his calms under the bows of the long-boat
could say of Joshua Barney that he came into a master's berth through
the cabin windows. He began at the rudiments, and well he understood
the science. All his predilections were for the sea.
Having deserted the counting room, young Barney, at the age of twelve,
was placed for nautical instruction in a pilot-boat at Baltimore, till
he was apprenticed to his brother-in-law. At the age of fourteen, he
was appointed second mate, with the approbation of the owners, and
before he was sixteen he was called upon to take charge of his ship at
sea, in which the master had died. This was on a voyage to Nice. The
ship was in such a state that it was barely possible to make
Gibraltar, where for necessary repairs he pledged her for £700, to be
repaid by the consignee at Nice, who however declined, and called in
the aid of the Governor to compel Barney to deliver the cargo, which
he had refused to do. He was imprisoned, but set at large on some
intimation that he would do as desired, but when he came on board, he
struck his flag, and removed his crew, choosing to consider his vessel
as captured. He then set out for Milan, to solicit the aid of the
British Ambassador there, in which he succeeded so well that the
authorities of Nice met him on his return to apologize for their
conduct. The assignee paid the bond, and Barney sailed for Alicant,
where his vessel was detained for the use of the great armada, then
fitting out against Algiers, the fate of which was a total and
shameful defeat. On his return home, his employer was so well
satisfied with his conduct, that he became his firm friend ever after.
He soon offered himself as second in command on board the sloop
Hornet, of ten guns, one of two vessels then preparing for a cruise
under Commodore Hopkins, for this was in the early part of the
revolution. The sloop fell in with a British tender, which she might
have captured, but for the timidity of the American captain. The
tender, mistaking her enemy, ran alongside and exposed herself to much
danger.--Barney stood by one of the guns as the enemy came near, and
was about to apply the match, when the bold commander commanded him to
desist. Barney, whose spirit revolted at such a cause, threw his
match-stick at the captain, with such force that the iron point stuck
in the door of the round-house. This, in a youth not seventeen, urged
well for the pugnacity of the man. At the end of this cruise, he
volunteered on board the schooner Wasp, in which he soon had a brush
with the Roebuck and another frigate, and with the aid of some galleys
in which he had a command, the enemy was forced to retreat, with more
loss than honor. Barney for his good conduct in this affair, was
appointed to the command of the sloop Sachem, with the commission of
lieutenant before he was seventeen.
Before the cruise, however, Captain Robinson took command of the
Sachem, which soon had an action with a letter-of-marque of superior
force and numbers. It was well contested, and nearly half the crew of
the brig were killed or wounded. In about two hours the
letter-of-marque struck.--The captors secured a valuable prize, in a
cargo of rum, and also a magnificent turtle intended as a present to
Lord North, whose name was marked on the shell. This acceptable West
Indian, Lieutenant Barney presented to a better man than it had been
designed for, for he gave it to the Hon. R. Morris. On the return of
the Sachem, both officers were transferred to a fine brig of fourteen
guns, the Andrew Doria, which forthwith captured the Racehorse, of
twelve guns and a picked crew. This vessel was of the Royal Navy, and
had been detached by the Admiral purposely to take the Doria.
On this voyage a snow was captured, in which the Lieutenant went as
prize master, making up the crew partly of the prisoners. Being hard
by an enemy's ship, he discovered signs of mutiny among his crew, and
shot the ringleader in the shoulder; a proceeding that offered so
little encouragement to his comrades, that they obeyed orders, and
made sail, but it was too late to escape. The purser of the frigate
which captured him, was on a subsequent occasion, so much excited as
to strike Barney, who knocked him down, and went further in his
resentment than fair fighting permits, for he kicked him down the
gangway. The commander obliged the purser to apologize to Barney.
Having been captured in the Virginia frigate, which ran aground at the
Capes, and was deserted by her commander, Barney, with five hundred
other prisoners, was sent round, in the St. Albans frigate, to New
York. As the prisoners were double in number to the crew, Barney,
formed a plan of taking the ship, which was defeated or prevented by
the treachery of a Frenchman.
Barney was a prisoner at New York, for five months, after which he
took the command of a schooner of two guns, and eight men, with a
cargo of tobacco for St. Eustatia, for he was better pleased to do a
little than to do nothing. He was however, taken, after a running
fight, by boarding, by a privateer of four large guns and sixty men.
His next cruise was with his friend Robinson, in a private ship of ten
guns and thirty-five men, in which they encountered the British
privateer Rosebud of sixteen guns and one hundred and twenty men. On
the return, a letter-of-marque of sixteen guns and seventy men was
captured. The Lieutenant had now prize money enough to be converted,
on his return, into a large bundle of continental bills, which he
stowed away in a chaise box, on taking a journey, but which he could
not find when he arrived at his destination. He kept his own secret,
however, and "went to sea again," second in command of the United
States' ship Saratoga, of sixteen nine-pounders. The first prize was a
ship of twelve guns, captured after an action of a few minutes.
On the next day, the Saratoga hoisted English colors, and came along
side a ship which had two brigs in company, then running up the
American ensign, she poured in a broadside, while Lieutenant Barney,
with fifty men, boarded the enemy. The immediate result was, the
conquest of a ship of thirty-two guns and ninety men. The two brigs,
one of fourteen and the other of four guns, were also captured. The
division of prize money would have made the officers rich, but no
division took place, for all but the Saratoga were captured by a
seventy-four and several frigates. Lieutenant Barney was furnished
with bed and board, on deck, and with him, bed and board were
synonymous terms, but he was allowed to choose the softest plank he
could find. In England he was confined in prison, from which he
escaped, and, after various adventures, arrived at Beverly,
Massachusetts, and, as soon as he landed, was offered the command of a
privateer of twenty guns. On his arrival at Philadelphia, he accepted
the command of one of several vessels, cruising against the enemies'
barges, and the refugee boats, that infested the Delaware River and
Bay. His ship was the Hyder Ally, a small vessel of sixteen six
pounders. As a superior vessel of the enemy was approaching, Barney
directed his steersman to interpret his commands by the rule of
contraries.
When the enemy was ranging alongside, Barney cried out, "Hard a-port."
The helmsman clapt his helm the other way, and the enemy's jib-boom
caught in the fore rigging, and held her in a position to be raked,
and never was the operation of raking more suddenly or effectually
performed. The British flag came down in less than half an hour, and
the captors made little delay for compliments, for a frigate from the
enemy was rapidly approaching. The prize was the General Marle, of the
Royal Navy, with twenty nine pounders, and one hundred and thirty-six
men; nearly double the force and metal of the captors. After the
peace, Commodore Barney made a partial settlement in Kentucky, and
became a favorite with the old hunters of that pleasant land. He was
appointed Clerk of the District Court of Maryland, and also an
auctioneer. He also engaged in commerce, when his business led him to
Cape Francois during the insurrection, and where he armed his crew,
and fought his way, to carry off some specie which he had secreted in
barrels of coffee.
On his return he was captured by a pirate, which called herself an
English privateer. Barney, however, was a bad prisoner, and with a
couple of his hands rose upon the buccaneers and captured their ship.
In this situation it was no time for Argus himself to sleep, with more
than an eye at a time. The Commodore slept only by day in an armed
chair on deck, with his sword between his legs, and pistols in his
belt, while his cook and boatswain, well armed, stood the watch at his
side. On another occasion, he was captured in the West Indies, by an
English frigate, where he received the usual British courtesies, and
he was tried in Jamaica for piracy, &c. It is needless to say that,
though in an enemy's country, he was acquitted by acclamation. This
accusation originated with the commander of the frigate, who, however,
prudently kept out of sight; though an officer in the same frigate,
expressed at a Coffee House, a desire to meet Barney, without knowing
that he was present, that he might have an opportunity to settle
accounts with the rascal. The rascal bestowed upon the officer the
compliments that were usual on such an occasion, and tweaked that part
of his head that is so prominent in an elephant.
We cannot follow the Commodore through his subsequent fortunes and
adventures. In France he received the hug fraternal of the President
of the Convention, and the commission of Captain of the highest grade
in the Navy. He fitted out several vessels of his own to harass the
British trade, in which he was very successful. He received the
command of two frigates, which were almost wrecked in a storm, though
he succeeded in saving them. In the last war, his services are more
immediately in our memories.
NAVAL BATTLES
OF THE UNITED STATES.
The depredations committed on American commerce in the Mediterranean,
by the piratical corsairs of the Barbary powers, induced Congress, in
1794, to authorize the formation of a naval force for its protection.
Four ships of forty-four guns each and two of thirty-six were ordered
to be built.--Captain Thomas Truxton was one of the first six captains
appointed by the President, at the organization of the naval
establishment, in 1794. He was appointed to the command of the
Constellation of thirty-six guns, and ordered to protect the commerce
of the United States in the West Indies, from the ravages of the
French. On the ninth of February, 1799, he captured the French frigate
Insurgente, of which twenty-nine of the crew were killed and
forty-four wounded. The Constellation had but one man killed and two
wounded.
In 1800, the Constellation engaged with the French frigate Vengeance
of fifty-four guns, near Guadaloupe; but owing to the darkness of the
night the latter escaped, after having thrice struck her colors and
lost one hundred and sixty men in the engagement.
The same year, the United States frigate Boston captured the French
national corvette Le Berceau.
In the month of August, 1801, Captain Sterrett of the United States
schooner Enterprize, of twelve guns and ninety men, fell in, off
Malta, with a Tripolitan cruiser of fourteen guns and eighty-five men.
In this action the Tripolitans thrice hauled down her colors, and
thrice perfidiously renewed the conflict. Fifty of her men were killed
and wounded. The Enterprize did not lose a man.
Captain Sterrett's instructions not permitting him to make a prize of
the cruiser, he ordered her crew to throw overboard all their guns and
powder, and to go and tell their countrymen the treatment they might
expect from a nation, determined to pay tribute only in powder and
ball. On her arrival at Tripoli, so great was the terror produced,
that the sailors abandoned the cruisers then fitting out, and not a
man could be procured to navigate them.
The Tripolitan cruisers continuing to harass the vessels of the United
States, Congress determined in 1803, to fit out a fleet that should
chastise their insolence. The squadron consisted of the Constitution,
44 guns; the Philadelphia, 44; the Argus, 18; the Siren, 16; the
Nautilus, 16; the Vixen, 16; and the Enterprize, 14. Commodore Preble
was appointed to the command of this squadron, in May 1803, and on the
13th of August, sailed in the Constitution for the Mediterranean.
Having adjusted the difficulties which had sprung up with the emperor
of Morocco, he turned his whole attention to Tripoli. The season was,
however, too far advanced for active operations.
On the 31st of October, the Philadelphia, being, at nine o'clock in
the morning, about five leagues to the westward of Tripoli, discovered
a sail in shore, standing before the wind to the eastward. The
Philadelphia immediately gave chase. The sail hoisted Tripolitan
colors, and continued her course near the shore. The Philadelphia
opened a fire upon her, and continued it, till half past eleven;
when, being in seven fathoms water, and finding her fire could not
prevent the vessel entering Tripoli, she gave up the pursuit. In
beating off, she ran on a rock, not laid down in any chart, distant
four and a half miles from the town. A boat was immediately lowered to
sound. The greatest depth of water was found to be astern. In order to
back her off, all sails were laid aback; the top-gallant-sails
loosened; three anchors thrown away from the bows; the water in the
hold started; and all the guns thrown overboard, excepting a few abaft
to defend the ship against the attacks of the Tripolitan gun-boats,
then firing at her. All this, however, proved ineffectual; as did also
the attempt to lighten her forward by cutting away her foremast. The
Philadelphia had already withstood the attack of the numerous
gun-boats for four hours, when a large reinforcement coming out of
Tripoli, and being herself deprived of every means of resistance and
defence she was forced to strike, about sunset. The Tripolitans
immediately took possession of her, and made prisoners of the officers
and men, in number, three hundred. Forty-eight hours afterwards, the
wind blowing in shore, the Tripolitans got the frigate off, and towed
her into the harbor.
On the 14th of December, Commodore Preble sailed from Malta, in
company with the Enterprize, commanded by Lieutenant Stephen Decater.
When the latter was informed of the loss of the Philadelphia, he
immediately formed a plan of recapturing and destroying her, which he
proposed to Commodore Preble. At first the commodore thought the
projected enterprize too hazardous: but at length granted his consent.
Lieutenant Decater then selected for the enterprise the ketch
Intrepid, lately captured by him. This vessel he manned with seventy
volunteers, chiefly of his own crew; and on the 3d of February sailed
from Syracuse, accompanied by the brig Siren, lieutenant Stewart.
After a tempestuous passage of fifteen days, the two vessels arrived
off the harbor of Tripoli, towards the close of day.--It was
determined that at ten o'clock in the evening the Intrepid should
enter the harbor, accompanied by the boats of the Siren. But a change
of wind had separated the two vessels six or eight miles. As delay
might prove fatal, Lieutenant Decater entered the harbor alone about
eight o'clock. The Philadelphia lay within half gun shot of the
Bashaw's castle and principal battery. On her starboard quarter lay
two Tripolitan cruisers within two cables length; and on the
starboard bow a number of gun-boats within half gun shot. All her
guns were mounted and loaded. Three hours were, in consequence of the
lightness of the wind, consumed in passing three miles, when being
within two hundred yards of the Philadelphia, they were hailed from
her, and ordered to anchor on peril of being fired into. The pilot on
board the Intrepid was ordered to reply, that all their anchors were
lost. The Americans had advanced within fifty yards of the frigate,
when the wind died away into a calm. Lieutenant Decater ordered a rope
to be taken out and fastened to the fore-chains of the frigate, which
was done, and the Intrepid warped alongside. It was not till then the
Tripolitans suspected them to be an enemy; and their confusion in
consequence was great. As soon as the vessels were sufficiently near,
Lieutenant Decater sprang on board the frigate, and was followed by
midshipman Morris. It was a minute before the remainder of the crew
succeeded in mounting after them. But the Turks, crowded together on
the quarter deck, were in too great consternation to take advantage of
this delay. As soon as a sufficient number of Americans gained the
deck they rushed upon the Tripolitans, who were soon overpowered; and
about twenty of them were killed.
After taking possession of the ship, a firing commenced from the
Tripolitan batteries and castle, and from two cruisers near the ship;
a number of launches were also seen rowing about in the harbor;
whereupon Lieutenant Decater resolved to remain in the frigate, for
there he would be enabled to make the best defence. But perceiving
that the launches kept at a distance, he ordered the frigate to be set
on fire, which was immediately done, and so effectually, that with
difficulty was the Intrepid preserved. A favorable breeze at this
moment sprung up, which soon carried them out of the harbor. None of
the Americans were killed, and only four wounded. For this heroic
achievement Lieutenant Decater was promoted to the rank of post
captain. His commission was dated on the day he destroyed the
Philadelphia.
After the destruction of the Philadelphia frigate, commodore Preble
was, during the spring and early part of the summer, employed in
keeping up the blockade of the harbor of Tripoli, in preparing for an
attack upon the town and in cruising. A prize that had been taken was
put in commission, and called the Scourge. A loan of six gun-boats and
two bomb-vessels, completely fitted for service, was obtained from the
king of Naples. Permission was also given to take twelve or fifteen
Neapolitans on board each boat, to serve under the American flag.
With this addition to his force, the commodore on the 21st of July,
joined the vessels off Tripoli. The number of men engaged in the
service amounted to one thousand and sixty.
On the Tripolitan castle and batteries, one hundred and fifteen guns
were mounted, fifty-five of which were pieces of heavy ordnance, the
others long eighteen and twelve pounders. In the harbor were nineteen
gun-boats carrying each a long brass eighteen or twenty-four pounder
in the bow, and two howitzers abaft; also two schooners of eight guns
each, a brig of ten and two galleys of four guns each. In addition to
the ordinary Turkish garrison, and the crews of the armed vessels,
estimated at three thousand, upwards of twenty thousand Arabs had been
assembled for the defence of the city.
The weather prevented the squadron from approaching the city until the
twenty-eighth, when it anchored within two miles and a half of the
fortifications; but the wind suddenly shifting, and increasing to a
gale, the commodore was compelled to return. On the 3d of August, he
again approached to within two or three miles of the batteries. Having
observed that several of the enemy's boats were stationed without the
reef of rocks, covering the entrance, he made signal for the squadron
to come within speaking distance, to communicate to the several
commanders his intention of attacking the shipping and batteries. The
gun-boats and bomb-ketches were immediately manned and prepared for
action. The former were arranged in two divisions of three each. At
half past one the squadron stood in for the batteries. At two, the
gun-boats were cast off. At half past two, signal was made for the
bomb-ketches and gun-boats to advance and attack.--At three quarters
past two, the signal was given for a general action. It commenced by
the bomb-ketches throwing shells into the town. A tremendous fire
immediately commenced from the enemy's batteries and vessels, of at
least two hundred guns. It was immediately returned by the American
squadron, now within musket shot of the principal batteries.
At this moment, Captain Decater, with the three gun-boats under his
command, attacked the enemy's eastern division, consisting of nine
gun-boats. He was soon in the midst of them. The fire of the cannon
and musketry was immediately changed to a desperate attack with
bayonet, spear and sabre. Captain Decater having grappled a Tripolitan
boat, and boarded her with only fifteen Americans, in ten minutes her
decks were cleared and she was captured. Three Americans were wounded.
At this moment captain Decater was informed that the gun-boat
commanded by his brother, had engaged and captured a boat belonging to
the enemy; but that his brother, as he stepped on board was
treacherously shot by the Tripolitan commander, who made off with his
boat. Captain Decater immediately pursued the murderer, who was
retreating within the lines; having succeeded in coming alongside, he
boarded with only eleven men. A doubtful contest of twenty minutes
ensued. Decater immediately attacked the Tripolitan commander, who was
armed with a spear and cutlass. In parrying the Turk's spear, Decater
broke his sword close to the hilt, and received a slight wound in the
right arm and breast; but having seized the spear he closed; and,
after a violent struggle, both fell, Decater uppermost. The Turk then
drew a dagger from his belt, but Decater caught his arm, drew a pistol
from his pocket and shot him. While they were struggling, the crew of
both vessels rushed to the assistance of their commanders. And so
desperate had the contest around them been, that it was with
difficulty that Decater extricated himself from the killed and wounded
that had fallen around him.
In this affair an American manifested the most heroic courage and
attachment to his commander. Decater, in the struggle, was attacked in
the rear by a Tripolitan, who had aimed a blow at his head, which must
have proved fatal, had not this generous minded tar, then dangerously
wounded and deprived of the use of both his hands, rushed between him
and the sabre, the stroke of which he received in his head whereby the
scull was fractured. This hero, however, survived, and afterwards
received a pension from his grateful country. All the Americans but
four were wounded. Captain Decater brought both of his prizes safe to
the American squadron.
Two successive attacks were afterwards made upon Tripoli; and the
batteries effectually silenced. The humiliation of this barbarous
power was of advantage to all nations.--The Pope made a public
declaration, that, "the United States, though in their infancy, had,
in this affair, done more to humble the anti-christian barbarians on
that coast, than all the European States had done for a long series of
time." Sir Alexander Ball, a distinguished commander in the British
navy, addressed his congratulations to Commodore Preble.
After the junction of the two squadrons, Commodore Preble obtained
leave to return home. This he did with the greater pleasure, as it
would give the command of a frigate to Captain Decater.
On his return to the United States, he was received and treated every
where with that distinguished attention, which he had so fully
merited. Congress voted him their thanks, and requested the President
to present him with an emblematical medal.
Our limits will only allow us to glance briefly at a few of the
remaining victories of the American navy. A formal declaration of war
against Great Britain was passed by Congress on the 18th of June,
1812. On the 19th of August, the memorable capture of the British
frigate Guerriere by the Constitution under Captain Hull, took place.
On the 19th of October the British sloop of war Frolic was taken by
the Wasp, commanded by Captain Jacob Jones; before the latter could
escape, however, with her prize, being in a very disabled state, she
was captured by the British seventy-four, Poictiers. On the 25th of
October, the United States under Commodore Decater, fell in with and
captured, off the Western Isles, the British frigate Macedonian,
mounting forty-nine guns and carrying three hundred and six men. The
Macedonian had one hundred and six men killed and wounded. The United
States five killed and seven wounded. The Victory of the Constitution
over the Java, followed next, and was succeeded by that of the Hornet,
commanded by Captain Lawrence, over the Peacock. The loss of this
brave officer in the subsequent engagement between the Chesapeake and
Shannon, was generally lamented by his countrymen.
On the first of September, 1813, the British brig Boxer of 14 guns,
was captured by the United States brig Enterprise, commanded by
Lieutenant William Burrows, who fell in the engagement. We must close
our notice of American naval history, by a brief sketch of some of the
most interesting cruises and engagements.
CRUISE OF THE WASP.
On the first of May, 1814, the United States sloop of war Wasp, of
eighteen guns and one hundred and seventy-four men, Captain Blakely,
commander, sailed from Portsmouth, N. H. on a cruise, and on the 28th
of June, in latitude 48 36 longitude 11 15, after having made several
captures, she fell in with, engaged, and after an action of nineteen
minutes, captured his Britanic Majesty's sloop of war Reindeer,
William Manners, Esq. commander. The Reindeer mounted sixteen
twenty-four pound carronades, two long six or nine pounders, and a
shifting twelve pound carronade, with a complement on board of one
hundred and eighteen men. She was literally cut to pieces in a line
with her ports; her upper works, boats and spare spars were one
complete wreck, and a breeze springing up the next day after the
action, her fore-mast went by the board; when the prisoners having
been taken on board the Wasp, she was set on fire and soon blew up.
The loss on board the Reindeer was twenty-three killed and forty-two
wounded, her captain being among the former. On board the Wasp five
were killed and twenty-one wounded.--More than one half of the wounded
enemy were, in consequence of the severity and extent of their wounds,
put on board a Portuguese brig and sent to England. The loss of the
Americans, although not so severe as that of the British, was owing,
in a degree, to the proximity of the two vessels during the action,
and the extreme smoothness of the sea, but chiefly in repelling
boarders.
On the 8th of July, the Wasp put into L'Orient, France, after
capturing an additional number of prizes, where she remained until the
27th of August, when she again sailed on a cruise. On the 1st of
September she fell in with the British sloop of war Avon, of twenty
guns, commanded by Captain Abuthnot, and after an action of forty-five
minutes, compelled her to surrender, her crew being nearly all killed
and wounded. The guns were then ordered to be secured, and a boat
lowered from the Wasp in order to take possession of the prize. In the
act of lowering the boat, a second enemy's vessel was discovered
astern and standing towards the Wasp.--Captain Blakely immediately
ordered his crew to their quarters, prepared every thing for action,
and awaited her coming up. In a few minutes after, two additional
sails were discovered bearing down upon the Wasp. Captain Blakely
stood off with the expectation of drawing the first from its
companions; but in this he was disappointed. She continued to approach
until she came close to the stern of the Wasp, when she hauled by the
wind, fired her broadside, (which injured the Wasp but trifling,) and
retraced her steps to join her consorts--Captain Blakely was now
necessitated to abandon the Avon, which had by this time become a
total wreck, and which soon after sunk, the surviving part of her crew
having barely time to escape to the other vessels.
On board of the Avon forty were killed and sixty wounded The loss
sustained by the Wasp was two killed and one wounded.
The Wasp afterwards continued her cruise, making great havoc among the
English merchant vessels and privateers, destroying an immense amount
of the enemies property.--From the 1st of May until the 20th of
September, she had captured fifteen vessels, most of which she
destroyed.
HORNET AND PENGUIN.
On the 23d of March, 1815, as the Hornet, commanded by Captain Biddle,
was about to anchor off the north end of the island of Tristan
d'Acuna, a sail was seen to the southward; which, at forty minutes
past one, hoisted English colors, and fired a gun. The Hornet
immediately luffed to, hoisted an ensign, and gave the enemy a
broadside. A quick and well directed fire was kept up from the Hornet,
the enemy gradually drifting nearer, with an intention, as Captain
Biddle supposed, to board. The enemy's bowsprit came in between the
main and mizen rigging on the starboard side of the Hornet, giving him
an opportunity to board, if he had wished but no attempt was made.
There was a considerable swell, and as the sea lifted the Hornet
ahead, the enemy's bowsprit carried away her mizen shrouds, stern
davits, and spanker boom, and hung upon her larboard quarter. At this
moment an officer called out that they had surrendered. Captain Biddle
directed the marines to stop firing and, while asking if they had
surrendered, received a wound in the neck. The enemy just then got
clear of the Hornet; and his foremast and bowsprit being both gone,
and perceiving preparations to give him another broadside, he again
called out that he had surrendered. It was with great difficulty that
Captain Biddle could restrain his crew from firing into him again, as
it was certain that he had fired into the Hornet after having
surrendered.
From the firing of the first gun to the last time the enemy cried out
that he had surrendered, was exactly twenty-two minutes. The vessel
proved to be the British brig Penguin, of twenty guns, a remarkable
fine vessel of her class, and one hundred and thirty-two men, twelve
of them supernumeraries from the Medway seventy-four, received on
board in consequence of their being ordered to cruise for the
privateer Young Wasp.
The Penguin had fourteen killed and twenty-eight wounded. Among the
killed was Captain Dickenson, who fell at the close of the action. As
she was completely riddled, and so crippled as to be incapable of
being secured, and being at a great distance from the United States,
Captain Biddle ordered her to be scuttled and sunk.
The Hornet did not receive a single round shot in her hull, and though
much cut in her sails and rigging was soon made ready for further
service. Her loss was one killed and eleven wounded.
ALGERINE WAR.
Immediately after the ratification of peace with Great Britain, in
February 1815, Congress, in consequence of the hostile conduct of the
regency of Algiers, declared war against that power. A squadron was
immediately fitted out, under the command of Commodore Decater,
consisting of the Guerriere, Constellation and Macedonian frigates,
the Ontario and Epervier sloops of war, and the schooners Spark,
Spitfire, Torch and Flambeau. Another squadron, under Commodore
Bainbridge, was soon to follow this armament, on the arrival of which,
it was understood, Commodore Decater would return to the United States
in a single vessel, leaving the command of the whole combined force to
Commodore Bainbridge.
The force under Commodore Decater rendezvoused at New York, from which
port they sailed the 20th day of May, 1815, and arrived in the Bay of
Gibraltar in twenty-five days, after having previously communicated
with Cadiz and Tangier. In the passage, the Spitfire, Torch, Firefly
and Ontario, separated different times from the squadron in gales, but
all joined again at Gibraltar, with the exception of the Firefly,
which sprung her masts, and put back to New York to refit. Having
learned at Gibraltar that the Algerine squadron, which had been out
into the Atlantic, had undoubtedly passed up the straits, and that
information of the arrival of the American force had been sent to
Algiers by persons in Gibraltar, Commodore Decater determined to
proceed without delay up the Mediterranean, in the hope of
intercepting the enemy before he could return to Algiers, or gain a
neutral port.
On the 17th of June, off Cape de Gatt, he fell in with and captured
the Algerine frigate Mazouda, in a running fight of twenty-five
minutes. After two broadsides the Algerines ran below. The Guerriere
had four men wounded by musketry, the Algerines had about thirty
killed, according to the statement of the prisoners, who amounted to
four hundred and six. In this affair, the famous Algerine admiral or
Rais, Hammida, who had long been the terror of this sea, was cut in
two by a cannon shot.
On the 19th of June, off Cape Palos, the squadron fell in with and
captured an Algerine brig of twenty-two guns. The brig was chased
close to the shore, where she was followed by the Epervier, Spark,
Torch and Spitfire, to whom she surrendered, after losing twenty-three
men. No Americans were either killed or wounded. The captured brig,
with most of the prisoners on board, was sent into Carthagena. From
Cape Palos, the American squadron proceeded to Algiers, where it
arrived the 28th of June.
The treaty which Commodore Decater finally succeeded in negotiating
with the Dey, was highly favorable. The principal articles were, that
no tribute under any pretext or in any form whatever, should ever be
required by Algiers from the United States of America, that all
Americans in slavery should be given up without ransom, that
compensation should be made for American vessels captured, or property
seized or detained at Algiers, that the persons and property of
American citizens found on board an enemy's vessel should be sacred,
that vessels of either party putting into port should be supplied with
provisions at market price, and if necessary to be repaired, should
land their cargoes without paying duty, that if a vessel belonging to
either party should be cast on shore, she should not be given up to
plunder, or if attacked by an enemy within cannon shot of a fort,
should be protected, and no enemy be permitted to follow her when she
went to sea within twenty-four hours. In general, the rights of
Americans on the ocean and land, were fully provided for in every
instance, and it was particularly stipulated that all citizens of the
United States taken in war, should be treated as prisoners of war are
treated by other nations, and not as slaves, but held subject to an
exchange without ransom. After concluding this treaty, so highly
honorable and advantageous to this country, the commissioners gave up
the captured frigate and brig, to their former owners.
Commodore Decater despatched Captain Lewis in the Epervier, bearing
the treaty to the United States, and leaving Mr. Shaler at Algiers, as
consul-general to the Barbary states, proceeded with the rest of the
squadron to Tunis, with the exception of two schooners under Captain
Gamble, sent to convoy the Algerine vessels home from Carthagena.
Having obtained from the bashaw of Tunis a full restoration in money
for certain outrages which had been sustained by American citizens,
the squadron proceeded to Tripoli, where Commodore Decater made a
similar demand for a similar violation of the treaty subsisting
between the United States and the bashaw, who had permitted two
American vessels to be taken from under the guns of his castle by a
British sloop of war, and refused protection to an American cruiser
lying within his jurisdiction. Restitution of the full value of these
vessels was demanded, and the money, amounting to twenty-five thousand
dollars, paid by the bashaw into the hands of the American consul.
After the conclusion of this affair, the American consular flag, which
Mr. Jones, the consul, had struck, in consequence of the violation of
neutrality above mentioned, was hoisted in the presence of the foreign
agents, and saluted from the castle with thirty-one guns. In addition
to the satisfaction thus obtained, for unprovoked aggressions, the
commodore had the pleasure of obtaining the release of ten captives,
two Danes and eight Neapolitans, the latter of whom he landed at
Messina.
After touching at Messina and Naples, the squadron sailed for
Carthagena on the 31st of August, where Commodore Decater was in
expectation of meeting the relief squadron, under Commodore
Bainbridge. On joining that officer at Gibraltar, he relinquished his
command, and sailed in the Guerriere for the United States, where he
arrived on the 12th of November, 1815.
Every thing being done previous to the arrival of the second division
of the squadron, under Commodore Bainbridge, that gallant officer had
no opportunity of distinguishing himself. Pursuant to his instructions
he exhibited this additional force before Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli,
where they were somewhat surprised at the appearance of the
Independence seventy-four. Commodore Bainbridge sailed from Gibraltar
thirty-six hours before the Guerriere, and arrived at Boston the 15th
of November.
ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN.
Likeness of Heaven!
Agent of power;
Man is thy victim,
Shipwreck thy dower!
Spices and jewels
From valley and sea,
Armies and banners,
Are buried in thee!
What are the riches
Of Mexico's mines,
To the wealth that far down
In thy deep waters shine?
The proud navies that cover
The conquering west--
Thou fling'st them to death
With one heave of thy breast!
From the high hills that view
Thy wreck making shore,
When the bride of the mariner
Shrieks at thy roar,
When like lambs in the tempest
Or mews in the blast,
On thy ridge broken billows
The canvas is cast--
How humbling to one,
With a heart and a soul,
To look on thy greatness
And list to its roll;
To think how that heart
In cold ashes shall be,
While the voice of Eternity
Rises from thee?
* * * * *
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authorities.
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KNOWLEDGE= not to be found in any similar work; but all =ABSOLUTELY
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TABLE OF CONTENTS.
1. A Complete Dictionary of the Eng. Language.
2. A Complete List of Scripture Proper Names,
including Apocrypha, and their pronunciation.
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4. Nicknames of the States and Cities of the U. S.
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8. Troops of the American Revolution, showing
the number each State furnished.
9. Battles and Losses of the Revolution.
10. The Declaration of Independence.
11. The Signers of the Declaration of Independence.
12. The Presidents of the Continental Congress.
13. Constitution of the United States.
14. History of the American Flag.
15. Area and Population of the United States.
16. Population of all Cities and Towns in the U. S.
having a population of over 10,000.
17. Growth of American Cities having a population
of 50,000 and upward.
18. Public Debt of the United States, 1791 to 1870.
19. The Amount of Paper Money in the United
States, of each denomination.
20. Analysis of the Public Debt of the United
States.
21. United States Public Lands--where they lie.
22. The United States Public Land System.
23. Free Homesteads on the Public Lands, or how
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24. Homestead and Exemption Laws of the U. S.
25. The Canals of the United States--their length,
connecting points, number of locks, cost, &c.
26. The Municipal Debts of the United States.
27. Theological Seminaries in the United States,
denominations, professors, students, in each.
28. Occupations of the People of the U. S.
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30. Navy of the United States, with rates of pay.
31. Navy-yards of the United States.
32. Number of Men raised by each State for the
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33. Churches in the United States, with statistics.
34. Price of commodities for the past fifty years.
35. Statutes of Limitations of the various States.
36. Interest Laws in the United States.
37. Insolvent and Assignment Laws of the different
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38. Newspapers and Periodicals in the U. S.
39. Heads of the principal nations of the world.
40. The Carlisle Tables, showing how many persons
out of 10,000 will die annually.
41. The Railroads of the World--length, cost, &c.
42. Commerce, Debts, &c., of the principal nations.
43. National Debts of the various countries.
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50. General Councils of the Roman Catholic
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51. Chronological History of the United States.
52. List of Mythological and Classical Names.
53. Interest Tables, at 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 10 per ct.
54. Examples of the Common Errors in Speaking
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=Abt=, =Glover=, =Sloan=, =Gatty= and =Balfe=. Including a vast range
of Songs, Rounds, Duets and Choruses, arranged for the Piano and
Organ. Price =15 cents=.
=Copies of the above books, sent by mail post-paid to any address on
receipt of price.=
Address HURST & CO. 122 Nassau St. N. Y.
THE CELEBRATED SOHMER
Grand, Square and Upright
[Illustration]
PIANOS
Are at present the most popular
AND PREFERRED BY THE LEADING ARTISTS.
The =SOHMER= Pianos are used in the following Institutions:
Convent of the Sacred Heart, Manhattanville, N. Y.
Vogt's Conservatory of Music.
Arnold's Conservatory of Music, Brooklyn.
Philadelphia Conservatory of Music.
Villa de Sales Convent, Long Island.
N. Y. Normal Conservatory of Music.
Villa Maria Convent, Mont'l.
Vassar College. Poughkeepsie.
And most all the leading first-class theaters
in NEW YORK and BROOKLYN.
THE WONDERFUL BIJOU GRAND
(lately patented) by =SOHMER= & CO., the =Smallest Grand= ever
manufactured (length only 5 feet) has created a sensation among
musicians and artists. The music loving public will find it in their
interest to call at the warerooms of =SOHMER= & CO. and examine the
various Styles of Grands, Uprights and Square Pianos. The original and
beautiful designs and improvements in Grand and Upright Pianos deserve
special attention.
_Received First Prize Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, 1876._
_Received First Prize at Exhibition, Montreal, Canada, 1881 and 1882._
SOHMER & CO.,
MANUFACTURERS OF GRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGHT PIANOFORTES.
WAREROOMS, 149, 151, 153, 155 EAST 14th ST., N. Y.
Transcriber's Note
This text contains a large amount of archaic and variable spelling
(including British and American variations), and inconsistent
hyphenation. This has been made consistent within individual articles,
but is otherwise left as printed to reflect the diversity of sources.
However, typographic errors, such as omitted or reversed characters,
have been repaired, as have instances of omitted or erroneous
punctuation. Archaic grammar--for example, the use of 'eat' rather
than 'ate'--has also been preserved as printed.
Spelling of proper names has been made consistent within articles;
uncommon spellings have been retained--for example, Pellow instead of
Pellew, Abercrombe for Abercrombie, and Abuthnot for Arbuthnot.
Page 182 of the original book was damaged, so that the penultimate
word of "The Mutineers" had to be inferred from the remaining letters
and available space. The most likely reconstruction--indevotion--has
been included in the main text.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder
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