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.