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.