THE "GREAT EASTERN"
A REMINISCENCE OF 1861
Some account of the memorable voyage of the "Great Eastern," when she
broke down in the middle of the Atlantic, may be of interest. It is an
old story, but it is memorable as marking an epoch in the history of
the Atlantic trade, which owes not a little of its progress to its
failures. The enterprise which produced these failures is entitled to
our admiration for its boldness and courage.
The "Great Eastern" was a remarkable ship. She was, in a sense, twenty
years ahead of her time. On the other hand, if she had possessed
sufficient engine power for her displacement, she would have
revolutionized steamship travel across the Atlantic and hastened the
era of large and swift Atlantic liners.
The "Great Eastern" was designed by Brunel, and built in 1858 for the
East India and Australian trades, for which routes a large coal
carrying capacity was necessary. But she never entered those trades.
Her speed in smooth water was twelve to thirteen knots, but in a head
sea she could do little more than hold her own, hence the cause of her
troubles.
The following figures give her dimensions, contrasted with the largest
vessel of her time--the "Scotia"--and the ships of to-day:--
Built. Length. Beam. Depth. Tonnage.
"Great Eastern" 1858 691 82 48.2 18,915
"Scotia" 1861 400 47 30.3 3,871
"Campania" 1893 620 65 43.0 12,950
"Aquitania" 1914 868.7 97 49.7 45,647
It will be seen from these figures how great was the departure of the
"Great Eastern" from the largest vessel of her period, and how small
she would appear to-day by the side of the "Aquitania." Not only was
she a great advance in size, but she had many other novel points. She
was propelled by two sets of engines, oscillating paddle engines and
horizontal screw engines, which together developed 11,000 horse-power.
She was fitted with six masts and four funnels. Her cabin
accommodation was unusually capacious and lofty. Speaking from memory,
her saloon was 18 to 20 feet high. She had a smoking room, while in
the "Scotia" smokers had still to be content with the fiddlee, sitting
upon coils of rope. The "Great Eastern" had but few deck houses, so
that her decks were magnificently spacious.
[Illustration: SS. "Great Eastern," 1858]
She sailed from Liverpool for New York on a beautiful afternoon in the
early autumn of 1861. We had on board about four hundred saloon
passengers, and a considerable number in the second cabin. She was
commanded by an ex-Cunarder, Captain Walker. The dock quays in
Liverpool, margining the river, were lined with a vast concourse of
people to see the great ship depart.
We had a splendid run down the Channel, and on the following evening
we passed the Fastnet. Our people were having a gay time, singing and
dancing on deck, and greatly enjoying themselves. In the middle of
this revelry we passed the "Underwriter," one of the Black Ball
sailing-packets, also bound for New York. She was under whole
topsails, plunging into a head sea and throwing the spray fore and
aft.
We looked upon her with admiration, but with feelings of immense
superiority. The old order had passed away, and the new had arrived in
the "Great Eastern." Many were the congratulations expressed upon the
advance in naval architecture, and many indeed fancied that the perils
and discomforts of the sea were things of the past. The next day was
one of those drab grey days so frequent upon the Atlantic. The wind
was increasing in force, and more northerly. The sea was getting up,
but the great ship, meeting it almost dead ahead, scarcely heeded it.
"She is as steady as a rock." "Wonderful!" were some of the remarks
passed around as we took our morning constitutional.
By noon the scene had changed. The wind had veered round to the
north, bringing up a heavy beam sea. The big ship began to lurch and
roll heavily, taking heavy spray overall. Some of her movements were
significant of danger--she hung when thrown over by a sea, and
recovered very slowly. A huge sea striking her on the starboard bow
swept her fore and aft, and carried away one of our paddle wheels and
several boats. An ominous silence shortly prevailed, and it was
whispered that the rudder had been carried away. The great ship fell
into the trough of the sea and became unmanageable, lurching and
rolling heavily and deeply. The seas, from time to time, striking her
with great force, made her quiver fore and aft. The second paddle
wheel was soon swept away, and boat after boat was torn from the
davits, the wrecks in many instances being suspended by the falls.
While destruction was being wrought on deck, the damage in the saloons
and state-rooms was appalling. They were simply wrecked by the
furniture getting loose and flying about, breaking the large mirrors
which adorned the saloon, and adding broken glass to the dangerous
mass of debris. Many of our passengers were badly wounded.
The engineers were trying to repair the broken rudder-stock by coiling
round it iron chains to form a drum, so as to be able to get a
purchase upon it. That night was a night of much anxiety, but the
behaviour of the passengers was exemplary. The ladies found a part of
the saloon where they could sit on the deck in comparative safety, and
here they knitted and sang hymns. There was a general effort to make
the best of things.
The following morning the weather had slightly moderated, but the sea
was still mountainous, and we rolled heavily. The chain cable stowed
in one of the forward lower decks broke loose, and burst through the
outer plating and hung in a festoon overboard. The cow-house had been
destroyed, and one of the cows was suspended head downwards in the
skylight of the forward saloon, and a swan which had been in the
cow-house was found in the saloon.
The Captain sent for some of the passengers he knew, and told them
that, as the crew had broken into the liquor store, he wished to form
special guards to patrol the ship. Some twenty or thirty volunteered,
and for four hours each day we patrolled the ship, having a white
handkerchief tied round our left arm as our badge of office.
Food had become a difficulty. All the crockery had been smashed, so
the victuals were brought down in large stew pans, and taking pieces
of broken dishes, we helped ourselves as best we could.
In the afternoon the "Scotia," outward bound for New York, hove in
sight. The great Cunarder looked stately and magnificent, and as she
gracefully rode over the big seas without any effort, simply playing
with them, she told us what design, knowledge and equipment could do.
After sailing round us, she bore away on her voyage. Another miserable
night followed, and it was obvious that the mental strain was
beginning to tell upon some of our people.
The following day the weather was much finer and the sea moderate, but
we were still helpless, a derelict on the wide Atlantic. No success
had attended the effort to repair the rudder-stock; nothing would hold
it. In the afternoon a small Nova Scotian brig hove in sight, and
sailed round us, as we thought, within hailing distance. One of our
passengers offered the Captain £100 per day if he would stand by us.
No answer coming, an offer to buy both his ship and her cargo was
conveyed to him, but still no answer came, and in the evening she
sailed away. The Captain of the brig was apparently some time
afterwards informed of what had taken place, and promptly claimed one
day's demurrage, and was suitably rewarded.
It was now evident that our only hope was to hasten the repair of the
rudder-stock. In our dire emergency a young American engineer, Mr.
Towle, offered a new suggestion, to build a cross head on to the
broken stock, and to steer the ship with tackles attached to it. After
some hours' work and the exercise of much ingenuity, he succeeded, to
the great joy of everyone.
The screw engines were still in good order, and the big ship was soon
on her way back to Queenstown, where we arrived five days after
passing it on our outward voyage. The damage done to the ship was
considerable, and some idea of the violence with which she had rolled
can be formed from the fact that when the baggage room was opened, it
was found that water having got into it, the baggage had been churned
into a pulp, and was taken out in buckets.
The "Great Eastern" ended her somewhat inglorious career by laying
cables across the Atlantic, and finally was broken up on the New Ferry
shore at Birkenhead. She had served, however, one great purpose which
had borne good fruit--she taught us that to successfully fight the
Atlantic on its days of storm and tempest, which are many, the design
of the engine and its power should receive as much consideration as
the design of the ship's hull.