As I walked up the hill towards my cottage many people stopped,
surprised at seeing me dripping wet, carrying a child and leading a
sheep, and asked me all sorts of questions about the wreck; but I would
not delay to answer them, except very briefly, or I should never have
got home. I hoped that Susan would not have heard of the ship going
down, still I half expected to meet her coming to learn if I had
escaped; and I thought of the joy it would be to her to find that I was
alive and well. As I drew near I saw that the cottage door was open;
still Susan did not come out. My heart began to sink within me. I
turned the sheep into the garden, and shut the wicket gate. I did not
mind just then if the poor animal ate up all the flowers and vegetables;
it deserved the best I could give it for the service it had rendered the
little boy in my arms. No one was in the outer room, but I heard
voices, and, opening the door of Susan's room, I saw Mrs Leslie and the
two young ladies, with my sister Jane, standing by Susan's bed. Jane,
catching sight of me, rushed out of the room and threw her arms round my
neck.
"Thank Heaven, you are alive, Ben!" she exclaimed. "It will bring Susan
to; don't be afraid. The captain has gone off for the doctor. She saw
the ship go down, and went off in a faint, thinking that all on board
must be lost. I, fortunately, was with her. The captain, who was
looking through his glass at the time, also saw the ship go over, and
came down at once with the ladies to comfort her, he intending to go off
to Spithead to learn all about the matter, and to hear if you had been
saved. He, however, was first to go round to send up the doctor, and
that was the reason he missed you."
"But, Ben," she asked, "is this the child Susan was telling me about?
And the poor young lady, what has become of her?"
I just told Jane what had happened; but I could not say much, for all
the time I was speaking I felt ready to drop, thinking that maybe Susan
was gone altogether, but that she had not the heart to tell me so. I
saw, however, that the ladies were burning feathers and holding salts to
her; and at last Mrs Leslie came out, and after I had told her all I
had said to Jane, with which she was much interested, she begged I would
not be cast down, as she hoped my wife would soon again come round. She
then went back to Susan's room, but soon returned.
"You may go in," she said, "and maybe, if she opens her eyes, the sight
of you will do her more good than anything else."
I did as she bid me, but as I leaned over Susan my heart sank, for she
did not seem to breathe at all, and looked so pale that I thought she
must really be dead. Still the young ladies kept applying the burnt
feathers and salts, and then one of them held a small looking-glass for
a moment over her mouth, and showed me that there was breath on it, and
that made me feel a little less miserable. At last the doctor came; he
felt her pulse, and looked very grave; then he opened her mouth, and,
having given her something, stood watching its effects.
Soon I could see that she was beginning to breathe, a slight colour
having come back to her cheeks, and then she opened her eyes, but she
seemed not to be looking at anything. Presently, however, she began to
move them, and uttering a faint cry she sat up, and, throwing her arms
around my neck, burst into tears.
"She will do now very well," said the doctor; and he and the ladies left
the room. In a little time, however, they came back and called me out,
telling Jane to go and sit with my wife. The doctor showed me some
physic bottles on the mantelpiece, and, saying that Jane knew what to do
with them, he began to make inquiries about the wreck and the little
boy, and how I had saved him.
I found that the ladies had got off his wet clothes, which Jane had hung
up to dry before the fire, while they had wrapped him up in their
shawls. The only thing which the ladies found in his pockets was a
little case. On opening it they saw that it contained a picture--a
likeness of the child himself, just as he was then dressed. It was but
slightly wet, as the water had not had time to soak it, so it was soon
dried.
"It must be carefully preserved, as it may assist to prove who he is,"
observed Mrs Leslie, though how that was to be was more than I could
tell. "It is slightly done in water-colours, evidently by a lady,"
observed Mrs Leslie.
She examined it carefully, but could find no name either on the picture
or the case. It was placed on the mantelpiece to show to the captain as
soon as he arrived. Jane then took the child in to see Susan, who
kissed him again and again, as if he were her own child restored to her,
and from that moment she felt towards him almost as if she was his
mother. Of course I had to go over the whole story again, but I could
only narrate what I knew.
"We must wait to hear more till the captain comes back," said Mrs
Leslie. "He will be truly thankful to find that you have escaped, Ben,
and then we will consider what must be done with this little child.
Perhaps his father or mother may have escaped and will claim him, or the
poor young lady who you say took him on board, though you think she was
not his mother."
"Please, ma'am," I said, "though I cannot claim any merit for saving the
child--for it was the sheep saved him--I would like that my wife should
have charge of him, and I am sure she would, for she said so just now.
I say it at once for fear anybody else should ask to have him and I
suspect that there will be a good many who will make the offer."
"We will hear what the captain thinks," said Mrs Leslie. "But you
certainly have a better claim than anybody else, though, as I said
before, probably some of his friends will come and claim him."
I thought so too, but I knew in the meantime that it would please Susan
greatly to have charge of the little fellow.
At last the ladies, leaving Jane with us, returned home; and the doctor
went to visit his other patients, saying he would look in again during
the evening.
By that time Susan was able to sit up and tell me more about the young
lady. She had got up very early in the morning, and, begging to have
some breakfast for herself and the little boy, said that she wanted to
pay a visit to a ship at Spithead, and would be back in the evening.
She had gone away, taking her bag with her, but left a letter with a
sovereign in it, and a few words to the effect that she wished to pay
her rent and board in advance. This, Susan thought, she did that it
might not be supposed that she was going away without paying.
I went down to the inn, at which we understood the young lady had left
her trunk, but I could hear nothing of it; the landlord said that no
such person as I described had come there. I made inquiries at other
public-houses, thinking that there might be some mistake, but I got the
same answer.
Late in the evening Captain Leslie came back, and, shaking me by the
hand, told me that he had been afraid I was lost, and how glad he was I
had escaped. He had been over to Portsmouth, and had visited the
_Victory_, and other ships on board which the people from the wreck had
been carried, inquiring everywhere for me. He had heard a great deal
about the wreck and the way in which many had been saved. I will
mention what he then told me, and what I picked up from others.
Out of nearly a thousand souls who had been alive and well on board the
ship in the morning, between seven and eight hundred were now lifeless.
Besides our gallant admiral, who had been drowned while sitting writing
in his cabin, three of the lieutenants, including the one whose
obstinacy had produced the disaster, the larger number of the
midshipmen, the surgeon, master, and the major and several other
officers of marines, were drowned, as were some ladies who had just
before come on board. Sixty of the marines had gone on shore in the
morning, a considerable number of the rest who were on the upper deck
were saved, but the greater number of the crew, many of whom were in the
hold stowing away the rum casks, had perished; indeed, out of the ship's
whole complement, only seventy seamen escaped with their lives.
I was sorry to hear that Mr Williams, the carpenter, whose advice, had
it been followed, would have saved the ship, was drowned; his body was
picked up directly afterwards, and carried on board the _Victory_, where
it was laid on the hearth before the galley-fire, in the hopes that he
might recover, but life was extinct.
Captain Waghorn, though he could not swim, was saved. After trying to
warn the admiral, he rushed across the deck and leaped into the sea,
calling others to follow his example. A young gentleman, Mr Pierce,
was near him.
"Can you swim?" he asked.
"No," was the answer.
"Then you must try, my lad," he said, and hurled him into the water.
Two men, fortunately good swimmers, followed. One of them getting hold
of the captain, supported him, and swam away from the ship; the other
fell upon Mr Pierce, of whom he got hold and supported above water till
the ship settled, when he placed him on the maintop, and both were
saved. The captain, in the meantime, was struggling in the water, and
was with great difficulty kept afloat. A boat, with our seventh
lieutenant, Mr Philip Durham, had on the very instant the ship went
over come alongside, when she was drawn down, and all in her were thrown
into the water. Mr Durham had just time to throw off his coat before
the ship sank and left him floating among men and hammocks. A drowning
marine caught hold of his waistcoat, and drew him several times under
water. Finding that he could not free himself, and that both would be
drowned, he threw his legs round a hammock, and, unbuttoning his
waistcoat with one hand, he allowed it to be drawn off, and then swam
for the main-shrouds. When there he caught sight of the captain
struggling in the water, and a boat coming to take him off he refused
assistance, till Captain Waghorn and the seaman supporting him were
received on board. The captain's son, poor lad, who had been below,
lost his life.
I heard that the body of the marine was washed on shore ten days
afterwards with the lieutenant's waistcoat round his arm, and a
pencil-case, having his initials on it, found safe in the pocket. There
was only one woman saved out of the three hundred on board, and I
believe she was the one I had helped out of the port; her name was Horn,
and I was glad to find that her husband was saved also. It was curious
that the youngest midshipman, Mr Crispo, and probably one of the
smallest children, our little chap, should have been saved, while so
many strong men were drowned.
I have known many a man come to grief through having too much grog
aboard; but one of the midshipmen, who had taken more than was good for
him, having overslept himself at the Star and Garter on the beach at
Portsmouth, when he awoke in the morning found that his ship was at the
bottom, and most of his messmates drowned.
Our first lieutenant, Mr Saunders, who had been busy in the wings, was
drowned; his body, with his gold watch and some money in his pocket, was
picked up, floating under the stern of an Indiaman off the Motherbank.
Of the three brothers who owned the sloop, two perished and one was
saved. It was owing to her being lashed alongside that the ship
righted, or she would have probably remained on her side. I was a good
swimmer myself, and I should, had I not been, have lost my life long
ago; and I have often thought what a pity it is that all seamen do not
learn to swim. Many more might have been saved; but those who could not
swim got hold of the men who could, and all were drowned together. If
all had struck out from the ship when they found her going over, a
greater number would have been picked up; instead of that, afraid to
trust themselves in the water, they stuck by her, and they and a large
number who got into the launch were drawn down with the ship, and all
perished. The foreman of the plumbers, whose boat was lashed head and
stern, was with all his men drawn into the vortex as the ship went down,
and not one of them escaped. It was a sad sight, ten days or a
fortnight afterwards, to see the bodies which were picked up; some were
buried in Kingston churchyard, near Portsmouth, and a large number in an
open spot to the east of Ryde. Some time afterwards a monument was put
up in Kingston churchyard, to the memory of the brave Admiral Kempenfelt
and his ship's company. A court of inquiry was held, when Captain
Waghorn was honourably acquitted, and it came out, that in so rotten a
state was the side of the ship, that some large portion of her frame
must have given way, and it is only a wonder that she did not go down
before. When I come to think that she had upwards of one thousand tons
of dead weight and spirits on board, it is surprising that she should
have held together.
An attempt was made soon afterwards to raise the _Royal George_, and
very nearly succeeded, as she was lifted up and moored some way from the
spot where she went down; but a heavy gale coming on, some of the
lighters sank, and the gear gave way, and she was again lost. It was
whispered that on account of her rotten state the Admiralty had no wish
to have her afloat, but that might have been scandal.
Having now said everything which people will care to hear about the fine
old ship, I will go on with the history of the little boy saved from the
wreck.