THE TOILERS OF THE THETIS
The _Lutine_ was not the only treasure-laden frigate lost by the
British navy. The circumstances of the wreck of the _Thetis_ in 1830
are notable, not so much for the gold and silver that went down in her,
as for the heroic courage and bulldog persistence of the men who toiled
to recover the treasure. Their battle against odds was an epic in the
annals of salvage. They were treasure-seekers whose deeds, forgotten
by this generation, and grudgingly rewarded by their own, were highly
worthy of the best traditions of their flag and their race.
On the morning of December 4th of the year mentioned, the forty-six gun
frigate _Thetis_, with a complement of three hundred men, sailed from
Rio Janeiro, homeward bound. As a favor to various merchants of the
South American coast who were fearful of the pirates that still lurked
in the West Indies, her captain had taken on board for consignment to
London, a total amount of $810,000 in gold and silver bars. During the
evening of the second night at sea, the ship was running at ten and a
half knots, with studding-sails set, and plenty of offing, by the
reckoning of the deck officers. The lookout stationed on the cat-head
had no more than bellowed "Breakers under the bow!" when his comrade
echoed it with, "Rocks above the mast-head."
An instant later, the soaring bowsprit of the frigate splintered with a
tremendous crash against the sheer cliffs of Cape Frio. The charging
vessel fetched up all standing. Her hull had not touched bottom and
there was nothing to check her enormous momentum. In a twinkling,
literally in the space of a few seconds, her three masts were ripped
out and fell on deck with all their hamper, killing and wounding many
of the crew. Instead of that most beautiful sight in all the world, a
ship under full sail and running free, there was a helpless hulk
pounding out her life against the perpendicular wall of rock. The
catastrophe befell so suddenly that when Captain Burgess rushed from
his cabin at the warning shout, the masts tumbled just as he reached
the quarterdeck.
"No description can realize the awful state of the ill-fated ship and
all on board at this appalling moment; the night was rainy and so dark
that it was impossible to ascertain their position, beyond the fact of
their being repeatedly driven with tremendous force against cliffs of a
stupendous height above them, and consequently inaccessible, and not
offering the slightest chance of escape; the upper deck of the ship,
the only part in which exertion could be useful, was completely choked
up with masts, sails, and rigging, which presented obstacles that
rendered unavailing every attempt at active exertion; while the ears of
all, who were of course using their utmost endeavors for the general
safety, were pierced by the cries of the dying and wounded for the
assistance which the imperious calls of duty forbade them to give.
Nothing but inevitable destruction presented itself to all on board;
and their perfectly helpless state rendered all deliberation useless;
and indeed there was no choice of measures, no point on which to offer
an opinion, and they could only await such means as Providence might
present."[1]
As by a miracle, the bowsprit and yard-arms had so checked the speed of
the frigate, acting as a sort of buffer, that her hull was not smashed
like an eggshell but was found to be fairly tight. All of the boats
had been smashed by the falling spars, and the wretched company could
only hang fast and pray that the wreck might float until daylight. But
the hammering seas soon caused her to leak through yawning seams, and
despairing of keeping her from sinking, a few of the crew managed to
reach a shelving projection of rock about twenty feet above the deck.
It was a forlorn hope, so perilous to attempt that many of those who
scrambled for a foothold fell between the ship and the cliff and were
drowned or crushed to death.
Presently the hulk swung away from the face of the cliff and was driven
a distance of a third of a mile along the coast and into a tiny cove or
notch in the bold headlands of Cape Frio. Here she remained, now
sinking very fast. The party who had succeeded in making a landing on
the ledge clawed their way to the rescue, following the drifting ship,
and with the hardihood and agility of British tars of the old breed,
they made their way down the declivity like so many cats and succeeded
in making fast to a rope thrown by their comrades on board. By this
means, several men had been hauled to safety when the dying frigate
lurched wildly and parted the hawser.
It was discovered that she now rested on the bottom. Part of the port
bulwark, the hammock-nettings, the taffrail, and the stumps of the
masts remained above water, and to these the crew clung while the surf
roared over their heads and threatened to tear them away. The
situation was now hopeless, indeed, but all left alive on board were
saved by the daring and strength of one man, Boatswain Geach. He
fought his way through the breakers to the stump of the bowsprit,
lashed himself there, and succeeded in passing a line to his comrades
on shore. A strong rope was then hauled up and one by one the men on
board were slung to safety upon the cliffs. Almost all the survivors
were dreadfully bruised and lacerated.
When the news reached Rio Janeiro, the British sloop-of-war _Lightning_
was in that port, and her commander, Captain Thomas Dickinson, was the
sort of man who likes nothing better than to lead a forlorn hope and
grapple with difficulties. Said he:
"The consternation occasioned by the dreadful catastrophe was not
confined to naval persons, but was universally felt at Rio,
particularly among mercantile people, since from the tenor of the
letter, and the description given by the officer who brought it, the
ship and everything she contained were considered as totally lost. The
event became a matter of general conversation; but while everyone
deplored it, I did not hear of any who seemed disposed to venture on an
attempt to recover the property, all appearing to consider the case as
perfectly hopeless.... Here was an undertaking which, if successful,
would assuredly lead to professional reputation and fortune, but which
everyone whom I addressed on the subject thought must fail. Still, the
scarcity of the opportunities of obtaining distinction and credit, by
an extraordinary act of duty, which present themselves to officers in
these piping times of peace, offered a consideration which prevailed,
and I determined on making the attempt, if I could get orders from the
Commander-in-Chief to that effect."
The admiral of the station proceeded to Cape Frio with a squadron of
five vessels, and after a careful study of the situation of the wreck
concluded that it would be futile to try to recover any of the sunken
treasure. In the face of this verdict, Captain Dickinson felt
reluctant to press his own views, but the bee in his bonnet would not
be denied. "Actuated, however, by the same feelings which had at first
prompted me to hazard the attempt, and having a natural repugnance to
receding after having, during my inquiries, disclosed my views very
freely, I was resolved to persevere. During the absence of the
Commander-in-Chief, I constantly employed myself in inquiring for any
persons likely to assist me, searching for implements, and obtaining
all the information within my reach, and devised several instruments of
minor importance which appeared likely to be useful. On his return
from Cape Frio, I showed these to him, of the whole of which he
approved."
Captain Dickinson could find no diving bell in Rio, so this versatile
officer proceeded to make one, and an extraordinary contrivance it was
for men to risk their lives in at the bottom of the sea. From H.M.S.
_Warspite_, one of the squadron in harbor, he obtained two iron water
tanks. These were turned over to an English mechanic named Moore,
formerly employed by the Brazilian government, who was assisted by the
carpenter of the _Lightning_. Between them they fashioned the water
tanks into something that looked like a diving bell. These capable
artisans then built an air pump, and now they were shy of hose through
which to force air to the submerged toilers.
"Being unable to find a workman in Rio Janeiro who would undertake to
make an air-tight hose," explains Captain Dickinson, "there appeared
for a time to be a stop to my preparations; but recollecting that there
was a Truscott's pump on board the _Lightning_, I attempted to render
the hoses belonging to it fit for the purpose, and to my great delight
succeeded, by first beating them hard with a broad-faced hammer to
render the texture as close as possible, then giving them a good coat
of Stockholm tar, afterwards parceling them well with new canvas
saturated with the same material, and finally serving them with
three-yarn spun-yarns, made of new yarns and well twisted.
"Having thus surmounted without assistance the two most formidable
difficulties that had yet presented themselves, I entertained a hope
that my own resources would prove equally available on future
occasions; and hence my confidence in ultimate success increased, in
the event of the stores and treasure still remaining where the ship was
lost. My officers and crew likewise now began to feel a great interest
in all that was doing; and their conduct and expressions afforded me a
happy presage that their future exertions would fulfill my most
sanguine expectations.... I could not but feel that the same
encouragement was not afforded by some from whom I had most reason to
expect both it and assistance; for although I had now been for six
weeks engaged in work, drudging on in the double capacity of carpenter
and blacksmith, I had not a single voluntary offer by them of any
article that might be useful to me. Nor was the kindness of my friends
very encouraging; for they almost universally endeavored to dissuade me
from venturing on an enterprise which everyone considered hopeless; to
all of which remonstrances my only reply was, that my mind was made up,
and that I should not withdraw from it."
The _Lightning_ sailed to begin operations at Cape Frio on the 24th of
January, 1831, with a Brazilian launch in tow, "and _La Seine_, French
frigate, in company, going to visit the place as a matter of
curiosity." At the scene of the wreck were found the sloop of war
_Algerine_, a schooner as tender, and a complement from the _Warspite_,
which were engaged in saving such stores and spars as had drifted
ashore. The theater of Captain Dickinson's ambition as a
treasure-seeker was hostile and forbidding, a coast on which it seemed
impossible to tarry except in the most favorable weather. As he
describes it, "the island of Cape Frio is about three miles long and
one in breadth, is the southeastern extremity of Brazil, and separated
from the mainland by a narrow strait or gut about four hundred feet
broad, having very deep water in it, and through which, the land on
each side being very high, the wind constantly rushes in heavy gusts,
and a rapid current runs. This island is entirely mountainous, and
nearly covered with an almost impenetrable forest, and the whole coast
on the sea side of it is formed by precipitous cliffs, washed by very
deep water close to the shore; and on the harbor side, with the
exception of a sandy bay, is very steep and rugged."
The little notch in the seaward cliffs, into which the frigate had been
driven, was named Thetis Cove by Captain Dickinson who explored it
vainly for traces of the wrecked hull. Either she had been washed out
into deep water, or had entirely broken up. Two months had passed
since the disaster, and the only way of trying to find the remains of
the vessel was by means of sounding with a hand-lead until the diving
bell could be rigged. The depth of water ranged from thirty-six to
seventy feet at the base of the cliffs.
This cove was an extraordinarily difficult place to work in, there
being no beach and the ramparts of rock towering straight from the
water to heights of from one hundred to two hundred feet. Said Captain
Dickinson:
"On viewing this terrific place, with the knowledge that at the time of
the shipwreck the wind was from the southward, I was struck with
astonishment, and it appeared quite a mystery that so great a number of
lives could have been saved; and indeed it will never cease to be so,
for that part at which the crew landed is so difficult of access, that
(even in fine weather), after being placed by a boat on the rock at the
base, it required considerable strength and agility, with the
assistance of a man-rope, to climb the precipitous face of the cliff;
and I am certain that in the hour of extreme peril, when excess of
exertion was called forth, there must have been a most extraordinary
display of it by a few for the benefit of the whole."
Now, this make-shift diving bell of his had to be suspended from
something in order to be raised and lowered, but neither his own ship,
the Lightning, nor any of the other vessels of the salvage fleet could
be anchored in the cove to serve the purpose because of the grave
danger of being caught on a lee shore. At first Captain Dickinson
planned to stretch a cable between the cliffs on either side of the
cove but this was found to be impracticable. Thereupon he proceeded to
fashion a huge derrick from which the diving bell should hang like a
sinker at the end of a fishing-rod. There was no timber on the cape
that was fit to be worked up by the ship carpenters, but these
worthies, Mr. Batt of the _Warspite_ and Mr. Daniel Jones of the
_Lightning_, were not to be daunted by such a trifling matter as this.
If a derrick was needed, they were the men to make it out of nothing.
What they did was to assemble the broken masts and spars that had
drifted ashore from the wreck of the _Thetis_ and patch them together
into one immense derrick arm which with its gear weighed as much as
forty tons. It was a masterpiece of ingenuity and seamanship of the
old-fashioned school, such as can no longer be found in navies. This
breed of handy man at sea belonged with the vanished age of masts and
canvas and "wooden walls."
"Our encampment and the adjacent parts of the island now presented a
bustling, and, I flattered myself, a rather interesting scene," wrote
the commander. "There were parties of carpenters building the derrick,
making, carrying to the selected situations, and placing the securities
for supporting and working it. Riggers were preparing the gear for it,
sawyers cutting wood for various purposes, rope-makers making lashing
and seizing stuff from the pieces of cable crept[2] up from the bottom,
and two sets of blacksmiths at their forges; those of the _Warspite_
making hoops, bolts, and nails, from various articles which had been
crept up; and those of the _Lightning_ reducing the large diving bell
and constructing a smaller one; five gangs of excavators leveling
platforms on the heights above the cove, cutting roads to lead to them,
and fixing bolts in numerous parts of the faces of the cliffs; some
were employed in felling trees and cutting grass for the huts while
others were building and thatching them; water carriers were passing to
and from the pool with breakers of water; and the officers were
attending to the different parties assigned to them for their immediate
guidance."
When ready to be placed in position, this derrick, built of odds and
ends, was an enormous spar one hundred and fifty-eight feet long. To
support it over the water, elaborate devices had to be rigged from the
cliff overhead, and the whole story of this achievement, as related by
Captain Dickinson, reads like such a masterful, almost titanic battle
against odds that it seems worth while quoting at some length:
"We had by this time taken off thirteen feet of the peak of the
northeast cliff, and thereby made a platform of eighty feet by sixty.
On this was placed the _Lightning's_ capstan and four crabs[3] formed
of the heels of the _Thetis's_ topmasts, the _Lightning's_ bower and
stream anchors, and the store anchor, to which was shackled the chain
splicing-tails and several lengths of the _Thetis's_ chain stream cable
which we had recovered, extending several fathoms over the cliff to
attach the standing parts of the topping-lifts and guy-topping-lifts
to, and preserve them from chafing against the rocks. There were also
eight large bollards[4] placed in proper positions for other
securities. Four other platforms, each large enough for working a
crab, were made at appropriate parts for using the guys and guy-topping
lifts. The roads and paths had been cut, extending from our encampment
to those platforms, and from the one to the other of them together
amounted to the length of nearly a mile and a half. The zig-zag path
down the cliff was finished, and at those parts of the main cliff which
were inaccessible in this manner, rope-ladders were substituted, and
thus a communication was formed with the cove at the point where the
derrick was to be stepped.
"All this being done, the large hawsers were rove through the blocks,
their purchases lashed to them, and partially overhauled over the
cliffs. The getting the before-mentioned heavy articles up was most
distressingly laborious, for they were obliged to be carried a greater
part of the distance where the surface was covered with a deep loose
sand, and to this cause may be mainly attributed a complaint of the
heart which subsequently attacked several of the people.
"The derrick, which was now composed of twenty-two pieces united by a
great number of dowels and bolts, thirty-four hoops, and numerous
wooldings[5] of four-inch ropes, was finished on the evening of the
7th, and the clothing fitted on, and I now had arrived at a point which
required much foresight and pre-arrangement, namely, the preparation
for erecting it; and it was necessary to weigh with coolness and
circumspection the mode by which this was to be done.
"A party of about sixty of our best hands were employed in getting the
_Lightning's_ chain and hempen stream cables and large hawsers passed
over and around the faces of the cliffs, and the purchases were
sufficiently overhauled to admit of their reaching the derrick, and the
falls brought to the capstan and crabs, ready for heaving it up. All
who are well acquainted with the character and manners of sailors know
that it is no easy matter to rid them of their habitual heedlessness.
I endeavored to impress them with the need of caution, and the almost
universal answer I got was 'Never fear, sir,' which from the fearless
and careless manner in which it was expressed, was by no means
calculated to remove my apprehensions for their safety.
"The task we had now in hand was one of much danger. The parties
working over the cliffs were some of them slung in bights of rope, some
supported by man-ropes, some assisting each other by joining hands, and
others holding by the uncertain tenure of a tuft of grass or a twig,
while loose fragments of rock, being disturbed by the gear and by the
men who were working on the upper part, were precipitated amidst those
below, while the sharp crags lacerated the hands and feet and rendered
dodging these dangers extremely difficult. However, by great attention
on the part of the officers, and by promptitude in giving aid when
required, this very arduous part of our work was performed, which I
sincerely believe could not have been accomplished by any men in the
world but British seamen; the only accidents being some cuts in the
hands and feet, and bruises from falling stones.
"All the gear being prepared, in the evening I arranged the
distribution of my officers with their particular parties at the
capstan, crabs, purchases, etc. The smallness of the number of hands
sent from the _Warspite_ rendered it necessary that I should have every
working man from the _Lightning_; and on this occasion she was left
with only a few convalescents to take care of her, and even the young
gentlemen[6] were obliged to give their aid at the capstan. On the
morning of the 9th, the derrick was launched without casualty, and
while the boats were towing it to the cove, all gear was got ready to
be attached to it the moment it arrived at the proper position,
according to the plan I had given.
"It had to be towed for a distance of about a mile, subject to the
influence of a strong current running westward through the gut, at once
exposing us to the two-fold danger of being driven to sea or against
the rocks. In apprehension of accident from one or the other of these
causes, I had taken the precaution of placing bolts at several points
of the rocks, so that in case of necessity a warp might be made fast.
However, the derrick reached the cove without disaster, and as
everything depended on promptitude of action, I had all the gear fitted
to go with toggles, which so much facilitated the rigging that in one
hour and a half after its arrival, everything was in place and the
_Lightning's_ chain stream cable being made fast to the heel of the
derrick, ready for heaving up, I left the further management in the
cove to Mr. Chatfield, and placed myself upon the main cliff.
"I then gave the order to heave round, and everyone was on the alert;
but we had scarcely brought any considerable strain on the gear when a
report came to me that the heel of the derrick was displaced and driven
into a chasm at the foot of the cliff, an accident which for this time
put an end to further efforts. I had no alternative but to cast
everything off in a hurry, and if possible return to the harbor with
the derrick; but this had become exceedingly doubtful, for the wind was
much increased since morning, and the current more rapid. We
repeatedly succeeded in towing the derrick into the gut, and were as
often driven back; till at length we were compelled to make it fast to
the rock outside until a small anchor and some grapnels were laid out,
by which means it was finally warped into the harbor, and by half-past
eleven at night moored near the _Adelaide_. Undismayed by this
failure, by seven o'clock of the following morning, we were again in
the cove with the derrick.
"The vast weight, the great height of the purchases, the number of
them, and the great distances they were apart, made united effort
impossible, but at the close of the day I had the satisfaction of
seeing this huge spar in the place assigned for it, and the head of it
hove ten feet above the water. On the 11th, we were again at our
purchases, and the head of the derrick was raised to the angle I had
intended, being about fifty feet above the surface of the sea.
"During the operation of erecting the derrick, it showed great
pliability, the result of being composed of so many pieces, which
obliged us to get numerous additional guys on; and having thus secured
it, we returned to our encampment, all hands greatly fatigued by three
days of the most harassing exertion, from half-past four in the morning
until late at night. On looking down from the precipice on this
enormous machine, with all its necessary rigging, it became a matter of
astonishment to myself, and I believe to everyone else who saw it, that
with the small means we had, we could have succeeded in such a
situation. It has been my lot to witness many circumstances in which
there was cause for great solicitude, but never one wherein such
general anxiety was manifested as on this occasion. If any one thing
had given way, it must have been fatal to the whole--a general crash
would have been inevitable."
Meanwhile, Captain Dickinson had found time to devise a small diving
bell, made from another water tank, which could be operated from spars
and tackle set up on board a launch. This was employed for exploring
the bottom of the cove in order to find where the treasure was. The
bell held two men, and there were plenty of volunteers to risk their
lives in the first descent in this little iron pot. The trip was
disastrous, and the commander described it as follows:
"The water happened to be particularly clear, which gave me an
indistinct sight of the bell at the depth of eight fathoms, and I had
been watching it with breathless anxiety for a long time, when suddenly
a small line of air bubbles rose from about the middle of the hose. I
instantly gave the word to the men in the launch to make ready to haul
away, but the two men in the bell made no signal to be pulled up. The
agitation of the sea became greater every minute, and there was a rise
and fall of eight or ten feet of surf against the cliffs. The danger
was increasing, and I was about to order the bell to be raised when an
immense column of air came bursting up from it. It had been driven
violently against the rocks, thrown on its side, and filled with water.
"The next moment I saw the two men emerge from the bell and swim to the
surface. Heans had been entangled in the signal line, but he managed
to release himself, and Dewar bobbed up a few seconds later. They were
too exhausted to say much, but Heans called to his partner, 'Never
mind, mate, we haven't done with the damn thing yet.'"
These plucky seamen went down again and discovered considerable
wreckage of the lost frigate. A Brazilian colonel, with a gang of
native Indian divers now appeared on the scene with a great deal of
brag about their ability to find the treasure without any apparatus.
They proved to be pestering nuisances who accomplished nothing and were
sent about their business after several futile attempts under water.
They furnished one jest, however, which helped to lighten the toil.
The bell was being lowered when one of these natives, or _caboclos_,
slid over the side of the boat and disappeared in the green depths. In
a few seconds, the signal came from the bell to hoist up. Fearing
trouble, the helpers hoisted lustily, and as the bell approached the
surface, something of a brownish hue was seen hanging to its bottom
which was presently discovered to be the _caboclo_ who had tried to
enter the bell. The men mistook him for an evil spirit or some kind of
a sea monster and kicked him back into the water outside, and he could
only hang on by the foot-rail, with his head inside the bell.
The first encouraging tidings was signaled from the small diving bell
on March 27th, when a bit of board floated up from the submerged men
with these words written upon it: "Be careful in lowering the bell to a
foot, for we are now over some dollars." Soon they came up, from seven
fathoms down, with their caps full of silver dollars and some gold.
Captain Dickinson decided to push the search night and day, and the
boats were therefore equipped with torches. It was a spirited and
romantic scene as he describes it.
"Thetis Cove would have supplied a fine subject for an artist. The red
glare cast from the torches on every projection of the stupendous
cliffs rendered the deep shadows of their fissures and indentations
more conspicuous. The rushing of roaring sea into the deep chasms
produced a succession of reports like those of cannon; and the
assembled boats, flashing in and out of the gloom were kept in constant
motion by the long swell. The experiment succeeded to admiration, and
we continued taking up treasure until two o'clock of the morning of the
first of April, when we were glad to retire; having obtained in the
whole by this attempt, 6326 dollars, 36 pounds, 10 ounces of Plata
pina, 5 pounds, 4 ounces of old silver, 243 pounds, 8 ounces of silver
in bars, and 4 pounds, 8 ounces of gold. After a little rest we were
again at our employment by half-past five, and proceeded very
prosperously for some hours, and then had to desist because of a
dangerous shift of wind."
As soon as the larger bell and the giant derrick could be put in
service, the happy task of fishing up treasure was carried on at a
great pace. Unlike many other such expeditions, nothing was done at
haphazard. The toilers under water "were first to go to the outermost
dollar, or other article of gold they could discover, and to place a
pig of ballast, with a bright tally board fast to it, against and on
the inner side of the nearest fixed rock they could find. From this
they were then to proceed to take up all that lay immediately on the
surface of the bottom, but not to remove anything else until all that
was visible was obtained. This being done, they were to return to the
place first searched and passing over the same ground, remove the small
rocks and other articles, one by one, and progressively take up what
might be recovered by such removal, but not on any account to dig
without express orders from me."
Life in the camp on Cape Frio had no holiday flavor, and while there
was continual danger afloat, there were troubles and hardships on
shore. "In addition to our sufferings from the wind and rain
penetrating our flimsy huts, we were attacked by myriads of tormentors
in the shape of ants, mosquitoes, fleas, and worst of all, jiggers.
Many of the people frequently had their eyes entirely closed from the
stings of the mosquitoes. At night swarms of fleas assailed us in our
beds, while by day it afforded a kind of amusement to pull up the leg
of one's trousers and see them take flight like a flock of sparrows
from a corn-stack, while there might be a hundred congregated inside
the stocking. Those little insidious devils, the jiggers, penetrated
the skin in almost all parts of the body, forming a round ball and
causing sores which, being irritated by the sand, became most painful
and troublesome ulcers, and produced lameness to half of our number at
a time.
"Snakes were so numerous that the thatching and almost every nook of
our huts was infested with them. They were often found in the peoples'
hammocks and clothes, and several were caught on board the ship. On
one occasion, my clerk's assistant was writing in his hut when a
rustling in the overhanging growth caused him to look up and discover a
huge snake, its head extending several feet inside the hole that served
as a window. He alarmed the camp, and muskets, cutlasses, sticks, and
every other weapon were caught up. The snake escaped, but I received
numerous reports of his extraordinary dimensions. My steward insisted
that it was as big around as his thigh, the sentry said it was as big
as the _Lightning's_ bower cable, and as to length the statements
varied between twenty and thirty feet. At another time, Mr. Button,
the boatswain, went into the store, in which there was no window, to
get a piece of rope. Going in from the glare of the sun, the place
appeared dark to him, and he laid hold of what he thought was a length
of rope, pulled lustily at it, and was not undeceived until it was
dragged out into the light. Then he was horror-struck to find he had
hold of a large snake."
In May, Captain Dickinson was able to send to England in H.M.S. _Eden_,
treasure to the handsome amount of $130,000 in bullion and specie, and
had every promise of recovering most of the remainder of the precious
cargo. Then a terrific storm swept the cove, totally demolished the
derrick, carried the large diving bell to the bottom, and made hash of
the whole equipment devised with such immense toil and pains. Was he
discouraged? Not a bit of it. He straightway set his men at work to
construct new apparatus with which he fetched up more gold and silver,
to the value of half a million dollars before he forsook the task.
First let him tell you in his own words of that tragic storm and its
results.
"At one o'clock of the morning of May 19th, it blew a perfect gale, the
cove was in a far more disturbed state than I had ever seen it before,
the seas rolled up the cliff to an astonishing height, and by daylight
the cove was in a state of awful commotion. The spray was driven so
wildly that while standing on the main platform, at an elevation of 155
feet, I was completely wet and could scarcely resist it. The waves
struck the derrick with steadily increasing force, and I watched it
with all the distressing feelings that a father would evince toward a
favorite child when in a situation of great danger. By six o'clock the
wind threw the waves obliquely against the southeast cliff, and caused
them to sweep along its whole length until opposed by the opposite
cliff from which as each wave recoiled it was met by the following one,
and thus accumulated, they rose in one vast heap under the derrick
stage, beat it from under the bell, and washed away the air-pump,
air-hoses, and semaphore. The stage was suspended at a height of
thirty-eight feet above the surface of the sea in ordinary weather,
from which circumstances an idea may be formed of the furious agitation
of the cove.
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[Illustration: Thetis Cove in calm weather, showing salvage operations.]
Thetis Cove during the storm which wrecked the salvage equipment.
(From lithographs made in 1836.)
======================================================================
"Nine o'clock arrived, and I had been watching for fourteen hours. The
constant concussions had caused the gear of the derrick to stretch, and
every blow from the sea caused it to swing and buckle to an alarming
degree. Nothing more could possibly be done to save it, and I saw
plainly that unless the gale soon ceased its destruction was
inevitable. I therefore left an officer on watch, and quitted the
cliff to go to my hut and arrange my parties for the work to be put in
hand after the catastrophe. Presently he came down to meet me, and
reported that a stupendous roller had struck the derrick on its side,
and broke it off twenty feet from the heel. Thus in one crash was
destroyed the child of my hopes, and in a very short time the derrick
was dashed into six pieces, forming, with the complicated gear, one
confused mass of wreckage."
Before the storm had subsided, the indefatigable seamen, blacksmiths,
and carpenters were solving the problem afresh, just as if there had
not been a clean sweep of their weary months of effort. This time it
was a new scheme for a suspension cable that had occurred to Captain
Dickinson. While this work was in progress he made another diving bell
from a water-tank, and succeeded in finding his air pump at the bottom
of the cove. Two men were drowned in the surf at this stage of
operations, the only fatalities suffered by the heroic company. The
diving bell was successfully slung from the suspended cable after a
vast deal of ingenious and daring engineering, and by means of it much
treasure was recovered, although the contrivance yawed fearfully under
water and more than once capsized and spilled its crew who fought their
gasping way to the surface.
After fourteen months of incessant toil, the men and officers worn to
the bone and ravaged by fever and dysentery, they had found almost six
hundred thousand dollars in bullion and specie, or three-fourths of the
total amount lost in the _Thetis_. It had been magnificently
successful salvage, achieved in the face of odds that would have
disheartened a less resourceful and courageous commander than Captain
Thomas Dickinson. He appears to have been the man in a thousand for
the undertaking. Then occurred an inexplicable sort of a
disappointment, an act of such gross injustice to him that it can be
explained only on the theory of favoritism at naval headquarters.
Captain Dickinson had a grievance and he describes the beginning of his
troubles in this fashion:
"On the 7th and 8th of March, some more treasure was found in a part
from which we had removed several guns, and here I had determined to
have a thorough examination by digging, feeling assured that here would
be found all the remaining treasure that could be obtained. Our labors
were drawing to a close, but while I was enjoying the pleasing
anticipation of a speedy and successful termination of the enterprise,
on the 6th I was surprised by the arrival of His Majesty's sloop
_Algerine_, with orders from the Commander-in-Chief to me to resign the
charge to Commander the Honorable J. F. F. de Roos of that sloop. It
appears that the Admiralty had been led to think that no more property
could be rescued, and therefore ordered my removal. I could not but
feel this a most mortifying circumstance. I had been the only person
who had come forward to attempt the recovery of the large property
which was considered to be irretrievably lost; I had devised the whole
of the methods by which a very large portion of it was recovered; I had
endured peril, sickness, toil, and privation during more than a year;
and the work was now reduced to a mere plaything compared with what it
had been, and yet I was not allowed to put the finishing hand to it.
Notwithstanding this, the deep interest I felt in the undertaking
remained unabated, and I was determined that nothing should be wanting
on my part to ensure a successful termination of it."
Quite courteously, Captain Dickinson explained in detail to Commander
the Honorable J. F. F. de Roos the plant and the operations, and even
left for him to fish up a large quantity of treasure already located
and which could be scooped up from the diving bell without difficulty.
"With a feeling which I thought would be appreciated by a brother
officer, I did not attempt to bring up this treasure, but left it for
the benefit of our successors, observing at the time that the world
should not say that I had left them nothing to do but the labor of
removing rocks and rubbish."
The amount subsequently recovered by the _Algerine_ was $161,500, so
that by Captain Dickinson's efforts, and the use of his plans and
equipment, all but one-sixteenth of the lost treasure was restored to
its owners, and of this he himself had raised by far the greater part.
When he returned to England and learned that salvage was to be awarded
to the officers and men who had been engaged in the work, he naturally
regarded himself as the principal salvor. The Admiralty, in its
inscrutable wisdom, chose to think otherwise, and the underwriters of
Lloyd's, taking their cue from this exalted quarter, regarded poor
Captain Dickinson with the cold and fishy eye of disfavor. The case
was argued in the Court of Admiralty, and the agents of Admiral Baker,
he who had been in command of the squadron at Rio, set up the claim
that he was the principal salvor, although the fact was plain that he
had nothing whatever to do with recovering the treasure from the
_Thetis_, and not even visited Cape Frio during the year of active
operations.
The judge could not stomach such a high-handed claim as this, and his
decision set aside the admiral in favor of Captain Dickinson and the
crew of the _Lightning_. The salvage award, however, amounting to
L17,000, was decreed as due also to the company of the _Algerine_,
numbering almost four hundred men, which left small pickings for
Captain Dickinson and his heroes. This was so obviously unfair that he
appealed to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, which
increased the award by the sum of L12,000, in which Commander the
Honorable J. F. F. de Roos and his belated treasure seekers were not
entitled to share. The influential committee of Lloyd's thought that
Captain Dickinson should not have been so bumptious in defending his
rights, and because he disagreed with their opinions, they ignored him
in a set of resolutions which speak for themselves:
"1st. A vote of thanks to Admiral Sir Thomas Baker, for his zeal and
exertions.
"2nd. The same to Captain de Roos, of the _Algerine_, and a grant of
L2,000 to himself, his officers, and crew, being the amount they would
have received had they been parties to the appeal.
"3rd. To mark the sense of the meeting of Captain de Roos's conduct,
they further voted to this officer a piece of plate to the value of one
hundred guineas."
In other words, an unimportant naval captain deserved this censure
because he had not been content to take what was graciously flung at
him by Lloyd's and the Admiralty, but had stood up for his rights as
long as he had a shot in the locker. There is something almost comic
in the figure cut by Commander the Honorable J. F. F de Roos, who
reaped the reward of another man's labors and received the formal
thanks of Lloyd's as the chief treasure finder of the _Thetis_ frigate.
Captain Thomas Dickinson was a dogged and aggressive sort of person,
not in the least afraid of giving offense in high places, and had he
not been of this stamp of man he would never have fought that winning
fight against obstacles amid the hostile cliffs and waters of desolate
Cape Frio. He shows his mettle in a fine outburst of protest, the
provocation for which was a sentence in a letter published in a London
newspaper while his case was under discussion: "Had Captain Dickinson
relied on the liberality of Lloyd's Coffee House, _he would not have
been a poorer man_."
This was like a spark in a magazine, and the captain of the _Lightning_
flings back in retort:
"Here, then we arrive at the development of the real feelings of the
Underwriters; here is exposed the head and front of my offending. Rely
on the liberality of Lloyd's Coffee House!! So that because I would
not abandon my duty to my officers and crew, or separate my interests
from theirs, and place myself and them at the mercy of the
Underwriters, therefore the enterprise and the services of fourteen
months, besides the rescue of nearly six hundred thousand dollars, are
to be considered as utterly unworthy of mention. Can it be necessary,
in order to entitle a British officer to honorable mention in Lloyd's
Coffee House that he should abandon a right, and succumbing to the feet
of its mighty Committee, accept a donation, doled out with all the
ostentation of a gratuitous liberality, in place of that reward which
legally took precedence even of the ownership of the property rescued!!"
[1] The matter quoted in this chapter is from the privately printed
account by Captain Dickinson (London, 1836), entitled, "A Narrative of
the Operations for the Recovery of the Public Stores and Treasure sunk
in H.M.S. _Thetis_, at Cape Frio on the coast of Brazil, on the Fifth
December, 1830, to which is prefixed a Concise Account of the Loss of
that Ship."
[2] Dredged.
[3] Portable machines used as capstans.
[4] Strong pieces of timber placed vertically in the ground for
fastening ropes to.
[5] Wrappings. Captain Kidd uses this old word in his own narrative.
See page 109. [Transcriber's note: the words "woolding" or "wooldings"
appear nowhere else in this text.]
[6] Midshipmen.