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TALES OF SHIPWRECKS AND OTHER DISASTERS AT SEA.
by
THOMAS BINGLEY,
Author of "Stories about Dogs," etc.
Embellished with Engravings.
Boston:
Tappan & Dennet,
114 Washington Street.
[Illustration: LOSS OF THE FORFARSHIRE.
_Grace Darling and her father proceeding to the rescue of the
survivers._--P. 184.]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Adventures of Captain
Richard Falconer, 7
CHAPTER II.
Uncle Thomas continues his Narrative of Captain
Falconer's Adventures, 28
CHAPTER III.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Wreck of the Vryheid, 51
CHAPTER IV.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Mutiny of the Bounty, 75
CHAPTER V.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Loss of the Kent
East Indiaman, 104
CHAPTER VI.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Wreck of the Medusa, 126
CHAPTER VII.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Loss of the Winterton
East Indiaman, 141
CHAPTER VIII.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Loss of the Royal
George, 153
CHAPTER IX.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Wreck of the Steamers
Killarney and Forfarshire, 164
CHAPTER X.
Uncle Thomas tells about the Wreck of the Albion
New York Packet, 189
CHAPTER XI.
Uncle Thomas tells of the Loss of the Doddington
East Indiaman, 202
TALES OF SHIPWRECKS
CHAPTER I.
UNCLE THOMAS TELLS ABOUT THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN RICHARD FALCONER.
"Shipwrecks, Uncle Thomas! oh yes, we shall be delighted!" exclaimed
three or four voices, as the boys crowded round the fire, each striving
who should sit nearest their kind old Uncle, who delighted to amuse
them by telling them the nicest little stories in the world, of
which, in the course of his reading, he had gathered together a great
store. He had already related to them, with much applause, a variety
of "Stories about Dogs," as well as "Stories about the Instinct of
Animals," and now proposed to commence a series of narratives, "Tales
of Shipwrecks, and other Disasters at Sea," a proposal which his little
audience, as we have above stated, received with unbounded delight.
I am glad you have chosen Shipwrecks, Uncle Thomas, I am so very fond
of such stories. I have just finished Robinson Crusoe, and almost wish
I was, like him, cast away on a desert island, that I might have my man
Friday, and my goat, and my gun!--It would be delightful!
I am afraid, Frank, you would not find it so delightful as you seem
to think. However, as you like it so much, I will begin my tales by
relating the adventures of Captain Richard Falconer, who was cast away
on a desert island, and show you how he fared.
Falconer was a native of Bruton, England. His mother died when he was
very young, and being thus thrown on his father's care, he was his
constant companion. Having been a great traveller in his youth, the
elder Falconer delighted to recount his adventures, and his son thus
acquired an ardent desire to follow in his steps. With this view, as
he grew up, he often begged that his father would allow him to become
a sailor. His father knew better, however, and always replied to his
solicitations by saying, "Stay where you are; you know not the hazards
and dangers that attend the life of a sailor: think no more of going to
sea, for I know that it is only the desire of youth, fond of change,
which now actuates you; and if I were to give you leave, one week's
voyage would make you wish you were at home!" Young Falconer, however,
was not satisfied with this reasoning, and again and again besought his
father to comply with his request. All his entreaties were, however,
unavailing, till at length an event happened which put an end to his
father's scruples.
The elder Falconer held the situation of collector of taxes, and having
collected a large amount of revenue, he was unfortunately robbed of
it, before he could pay it over to government. Fearful that some
negligence, of which he had no doubt been guilty, would expose him
to punishment, and being thus a ruined man, he resolved to retire to
some place where he was unknown, and thus escape the vigilance of his
enemies.
One morning he called his son to him, and said, "Richard, you have
often been desirous of going to sea, and I have always endeavored to
dissuade you from it; but as what has happened makes it impossible for
me to remain any longer in the place of my birth, I must now recommend
you to the way of life which I should never have chosen for you, but
that my circumstances will not now allow me to provide for you in any
other way. Here," continued he, "take this money, which I can ill spare
out of my little fortune; but since it is all I can do for you, take
it, and may Heaven prosper you! May the blessing of a father, whose
prayers shall ever be sent to the Almighty Creator for your welfare,
always be with you. Here is a letter to Captain Pultney, of Bristol,
whose friendship, I am sure, will be of service to you." Then, with
tears in his eyes, he embraced his son, and once more gave him his
blessing, and took his leave forever. They never saw each other again!
Having packed up a few things in a portmanteau, Falconer gave them to
an old servant of his father's, who, to show his gratitude in the only
way he had in his power, determined to see him as far as Bristol. They
set out in the morning, and reached it by noon.
Captain Pultney received him with great cordiality, and promised to do
everything in his power to promote his views, and when, by his advice,
Falconer had studied the mathematics, and he thought him capable of
performing the duties of mate, he sent him on board the Albion frigate,
commanded by Captain Wise; and, on the 2nd of May, they set sail
for Jamaica, with a fair wind. As soon as they lost sight of land,
Falconer began to be extremely sea-sick, and he bore the rough jokes of
the sailors very indifferently. One cried out, "There's an excellent
master's-mate; he'll hit Jamaica to a hair, if the island was no bigger
than the bung-hole of a cask!" However, in a day or two, he perfectly
recovered, and was never afterwards troubled with sea-sickness.
Nothing material happened till they entered the Bay of Biscay, when
they encountered a dreadful storm; the billows ran very high, and the
vessel seemed to be the sport of the waves. So high did these run, that
a ship, that overtook the Albion the day before, and accompanied it,
was sometimes altogether lost sight of, though they were not half a
furlong distant from each other: this continued for three days, when
the storm abated something of its fierceness, though it still blew very
hard. The other vessel, by firing a gun and showing a signal, made
it appear that she was in distress; but the sea ran so high, that it
was impossible to afford her any assistance; yet, the Albion, being
to windward, bore down upon her, to be as near as possible without
endangering her own safety. They found that she had sprung a leak, and
though they had all hands by turns at the pump, yet the water gained
upon them. They begged the crew of the Albion to hoist out a boat, as
their own was stove. They accordingly sent out their long-boat, with
two men, but the rope that held her to the ship unfortunately broke,
and she drove away with the two men in her, who were never afterwards
heard of. They undoubtedly were either swallowed up by the sea, or
perished of hunger, as they were then twenty leagues from shore. The
ship sunk in less than ten minutes afterwards, with fifty-seven men on
board, of whom four only were saved by clinging to the ropes which had
been thrown out to them by the crew of the Albion.
From the four men who were thus saved, they learned that the vessel,
which had sunk, was a pirate, which, but a short time before, had
attacked a French ship, murdered the captain, and such of the crew as
would not agree to join them, and that they were only waiting for the
abating of the storm in order to attack the Albion. They also said,
they were forced, with several others, to become pirates; but whether
this was true or false, they behaved with great propriety during the
remainder of the voyage.
On the 28th of May they made the Canaries, and saw the peak of
Teneriffe. On the 4th of July, they anchored in Carlisle Bay,
Barbadoes, after a desperate action with a pirate, who boarded them,
but was beat off. On the 20th of July they sailed for Jamaica, on the
1st of August anchored at Nevis, and on the 7th of September arrived in
Port Royal harbor.
Finding that the affairs of the ship would detain it about half a
year in Jamaica, Falconer obtained leave of the captain to go in a
sloop, with some of his companions, to obtain logwood, at the Bay of
Campeachy, on the South American coast; and on the 25th of September,
they set out on this expedition. For six days they sailed merrily on
their course, with a fair wind, towards the Bay; but on the seventh,
the clouds darkened, and the welkin seemed all on fire with lightning,
and the thunder roared with frightful violence. In short, a dreadful
hurricane approached. The sailors had furled their sails and lowered
their topmasts, waiting for it under a double-reefed foresail. At
length it came with extreme violence, which lasted three hours, until,
as if exhausted, it insensibly abated, and was followed by a complete
calm.
On the 6th of October they anchored at Trist Island, in the Bay of
Campeachy, and sent their men ashore at Logwood Creek, to seek for the
logwood cutters, who immediately came on board. The bargain was soon
struck; and, in exchange for rum and sugar, and a little money, they
got in their cargo in eight days, and again set sail for Jamaica.
During the homeward voyage, Falconer one day went down into the hold to
bottle off a small parcel of wine which he had there: on coming upon
deck again, wanting to wash himself, he went into the boat astern,
which had been hoisted out in the morning to look after a wreck. Having
washed and dressed himself, he took a book out of his pocket, and sat
reading in the boat; when, before he was aware, a storm began to rise,
and finding that he could not get up at the ship's side as usual, he
called for the ladder of ropes that hangs over the ship's quarter, in
order to get up that way. Whether it broke through rottenness, it being
seldom used, is uncertain, but down he fell into the sea; and though
the ship immediately tacked about to take him up, yet, as evening was
now coming on, and the storm had considerably increased, they soon lost
sight of him. For some time he swam boldly in the direction in which
he expected to see the vessel, but at length he was forced to drive
with the wind, which, fortunately, set in with the current; and having
managed to keep himself above water for about four hours, he felt his
feet touch the ground; and at last, by a great wave, was thrown upon
the sand.
It being now quite dark, he knew not what to do; but got up and walked
as well as his numbed limbs would let him, and every now and then
was overtaken by the waves, which were not high enough, however, to
wash him away. When he had got far enough, as he thought, to be out
of danger, he began to examine what sort of place it was upon which
he had been thrown: he could not, however, discover anything of land,
and conjectured that it was but some bank of sand, that the sea would
overflow at high tide. He now sat down to rest his weary limbs, and
prepare himself for death, which, it was evident, was now staring him
in the face. At last he fell asleep, though he tried all he could to
prevent it, by getting up and walking, till he was obliged, through
weariness, to lie down again.
When he awoke in the morning, he found that he was on a low, sandy
island, surrounded by several others of the same description, and
separated from each other, about half a mile or more, by the sea.
Finding that things were thus not quite so bad as he had anticipated,
he became a little cheerful, and walked about to see if he could
discover anything that was eatable, as he now began to get very hungry;
but, to his great grief, he found nothing but a few eggs, which he was
obliged to eat raw. The fear of starving seemed now to be worse than
that of drowning; and often did he wish that the sea had swallowed
him, rather than have thrown him on this desolate island; for he could
perceive, from their flatness, that they were not inhabited either
by man or beast, being only resorted to by sea-fowl. To complete his
misery, there was not to be found one drop of fresh water on the
island, so that he was forced to drink sea-water for two or three days,
which caused his skin to peel off, and made him very ill. At last his
misery so increased, that he frequently resolved to terminate his
existence, but desisted, in the expectation that some alligator, or
other voracious creature, would come and do it for him.
One day he discovered a bird, called a booby, sitting upon a bush,
and ran immediately, as fast as he could, and knocked it down with a
stick. Without for a moment considering whether it was proper food, he
sucked the blood and ate the flesh with such a pleasure, as none can
express but those who have felt the pain of hunger to the same degree.
He afterwards discovered many more of these birds, which he killed.
Being now pretty well off for food, he began to consider whether he
could not with two sticks make a fire, as he had seen the blacks do in
Jamaica, and at last, after many trials, happily accomplished it. He
then plucked several of the boobies which he had caught, and broiled
them as well as he could.
At night, he was exposed to a great storm of rain and thunder, with the
reddest lightning he had ever seen, and was completely drenched; his
clothes, which consisted of a pair of thin shoes and thread stockings,
and a canvass waistcoat and trowsers, were thoroughly wet; but he had
the happiness to find in the morning several cavities of rain-water.
Having already suffered so much from using sea-water, he now thought
of making a deep well, that he might have water continually by him. He
took a piece of wood, and pitched upon a place under a bush, where,
with his hands and the stick together, he dug a hole, big enough to
contain a hogshead of water; then he put in stones and paved it, and
got in and stamped them down hard all round, and, with his stick,
beat the sides close, so as to make it completely water-tight. But the
great difficulty was how to get the water there: this, however, he at
length effected, by means of a sort of bucket made from a part of his
clothing. Having been so successful in this matter, he now felt greatly
elated, and thought he should not be very badly off for a long while;
for, besides the store of water, he had, ready broiled, forty boobies,
designing to allow himself half a one a-day. Fortunately, he remained
always in good health, being only a little troubled with headache,
from the sun beating on his head, having lost his hat in the water, in
falling down from the vessel's side. For a time he remedied this as
well as he could, by gathering a parcel of chicken-weed, which grew in
plenty around, and strewing it over the bushes under which he sat; but
at last, finding that he might be longer there than he expected, he
tore off one of the sleeves of his shirt, and made himself a cap, which
he covered with green sprigs, twisted with bark.
By the time he had been a month on the island, his skin became as
brown, by constant exposure, as if it had been rubbed over with walnut
shells. He several times thought of swimming to one of the other
islands; but as they looked only like heaps of sand, he felt convinced
that he had got the best berth, so contented himself with his station.
He began, however, to feel very lonely, and was so wicked as to wish to
have companions in his misfortune, and every day hoped either to see
some vessel come that way, or a wreck, where, perhaps, he might find
some necessaries which he wanted. He used to fancy, that if he should
be forced to stay there long, he should lose his speech; so he used to
talk aloud, asking himself questions, and answering them. If anybody
had been by to have heard him, they would certainly have thought him
crazy, he often asked himself such strange questions. He was destined
to be visited by companions in misfortune sooner than he expected; but
I must tell you how this happened on some other occasion. I am afraid I
have already detained you too long this evening.
Oh no, Uncle Thomas!
Very well, boys, to-morrow evening I will go on with Captain Falconer's
adventures, and we will see how Frank likes this sort of life on a
desert island.
Ah, but Uncle Thomas, this was not a nice island, like Robinson
Crusoe's! There were no large trees to make a canoe of, or any goats;
and I don't see very well where Friday is to come from!
I understand you, Frank; you would like it only if you had the choosing
of your place, with plenty of conveniences of every kind. Good night.