LAST STRUGGLES.
The morning of Thursday, January 11th, at length came to the passengers
and crew of the foundering _London_. There had been, we may be sure, no
attempts at seeking rest among the passengers below. On the deck all
night the pumps had been going, and every one was doing his utmost to
second the good Captain’s efforts to save the ship, if possible. The
bravest had little hope of this, but still every man worked as if all
depended upon his efforts. The universal testimony is, that passengers
and crew did what they could. Some of the crew, it is true, had to seek
their berths through sickness or terror; but there was no lack of hands
to work the ship.
There was no abatement in the fury of the storm; the wind raved as
violently and the waves thundered as fiercely as ever against the ship,
and there was no change in her monotonous roll in the trough of the
sea. It was the morning of that fearful night, it may be remembered,
when more than thirty vessels were driven on shore in Torbay. The names
of some of the passengers of the _London_ who strenuously exerted
themselves have been made known, although they have not come back
to hear of the enthusiasm which their gallantry has inspired in the
hearts of thousands. Dr. Woolley worked with the rest at the pumps, and
encouraged the passengers to do their best: he, though so delicate, and
all unused to manual labour, did his work with the bravest and best of
them.
The exertions of Mr. Brooke, if possible, surpassed those of any on
board. At times he went into the saloon, where his sister was among the
ladies, and where, in frightened groups, the passengers were engaged
in prayer, in reading their Bible, or in listening to the instructions
and consolations of Mr. Draper. The tragedian would help for a little
while in baling out the water, and then he would away again to the
deck to work at the pumps, and he continued so doing until even he had
to relinquish all hope. Barefooted and bareheaded, attired only in a
Crimean shirt and trousers, now in the cabin--now on deck--he forms a
picture of dauntless heroism that will long live tenderly in the memory
of his friends.
It was about four o’clock on Thursday morning when a new disaster
occurred, which, added to the sweeping away of the hatchway on the
preceding day, may be said to have sealed the fate of the vessel. A
tremendous sea struck the stern of the ship, and stove in four of the
windows of the upper or poop cabin. Through the breaches thus made the
water rushed in, and the ’tween decks were soon flooded. The carpenter
was immediately set to work to remedy the disaster, and he found that
the force of the sea had driven back the strong shutters of the dead
lights, and broken the glass of the sashes inside, and the sea was
pouring in in great quantities. He endeavoured to secure the ports by
shoring them with a spar placed against a post on the main deck, so
as to make the shutters once more firm, although the sashes had been
driven in. The stratagem succeeded for a little while, but as the ship
got deeper in the water the sea drove the ports entirely in, and soon
rushed about unchecked through the upper and into the lower saloon.
Meanwhile, on deck the efforts of both passengers and crew were
directed more earnestly than ever towards keeping the gaping aperture
over the engine-room covered. The ship was fast settling down, and
was more than half full of water. Captain Martin went down with Mr.
Greenhill into the room, and, upon the engineer taking soundings it
was found that there were fourteen feet of water, the whole of which
had come through the hatchway, notwithstanding all the efforts made to
keep it out. There was also a considerable increase of water between
the decks. Every time the ship lurched in the trough of the sea she
was taking in tons of water over the gunwale. Captain Martin did not
lose heart, but at the same time told Mr. Greenhill that he had now
little hope of saving the ship. Nevertheless, upon going on deck, after
this examination of the engine-room, he cried to those who were baling
out water, “Men! put down the buckets and come and try to secure the
engine-room hatch, for that is the only chance to save the ship. Secure
that, and we may keep her up!”
Instantly the Captain’s order was obeyed, and once more the men tried
to nail down sails and tarpauling, which the sea, however, washed
ruthlessly away, or flapped down into the engine-room. Among those who
laboured hard at this work, useless though it too soon proved, was John
King, who had been hurt the preceding evening by his fall overboard.
The violence of the sea and storm was such, that men were driven hither
and thither by it on deck, knocked against casks and pieces of the
wreck, and were in imminent danger of being washed overboard, as King
had been. But there was no relaxation of effort. Mr. Angell was at the
donkey-engine, Dr. Woolley, Mr. Brooke, and other passengers at the
pumps, and many were engaged in vigorously baling out the water from
the lower saloon, through the upper saloon, and over the upper deck.
All efforts, however, were unavailing. Mr. Wilson, one of the
survivors, said, that as it was getting light, he asked Captain Martin
if he should go on baling out the water, to which the Captain replied,
“You may, but I think it is of no use.”
About eight o’clock the carpenter received orders to see to the boats!
On board now there were the port cutter, the two pinnaces, and the
jolly boat, for two lifeboats and the starboard cutter had been washed
away previously. All the boats were immediately plugged and made ready
for sea, and bread and water put in them. A little before ten o’clock
the starboard pinnace, which was of iron, and which would hold fifty
persons, was got ready for lowering, and John King with five others
got into her. Being lowered too fast, however, she swamped, and sunk
headforemost: the men were of course thrown with great violence into
the sea. After having been twelve seconds under water, King was washed
up to the rail of the ship, and got on board, and the rest also were
saved.
Shortly after the foundering of the starboard pinnace, the Captain
entered the saloon, and said, by way of answer to the mute appeal made
to him on every face, “Ladies, there is no hope for us, I am afraid.
Nothing short of a miracle can save us.” These were his exact words,
and Mr. Draper calmly replied to them by saying, “Then let us pray!”
At two o’clock on that wild, stormy afternoon the vessel was sinking
rapidly, and the channels were nearly level with the water. Captain
Martin now told Mr. Greenhill, that as the port cutter was ready for
lowering, he had better take the command of her, and of as many as it
would hold. As for himself, he had no thought of leaving his ship;
he would sink with the _London_ and her doomed passengers. The crew,
as they remembered the fate of the starboard pinnace a few hours
previously, were at first not over-anxious to set about lowering the
port cutter, and, for reasons that will appear in the next chapter, the
passengers generally made no attempts to escape.
John King, with a few other seamen, had already provisioned the cutter
with a bag of bread, a beaker with about a quart of fresh water, and a
few bottles of brandy, which a bright and intelligent young midshipman,
Walter Edwards, greatly to his credit, as Mr. Traill the magistrate
observed at the Board of Trade Inquiry, managed to conceal from the
men after he had got on board. A few here and there could not see an
attempt being made to escape, notwithstanding its seemingly hopeless
character, without being desirous of joining in it. This lad, who was
on his first voyage out, said, that after the starboard pinnace had
been swamped, he heard Captain Martin earnestly dissuading a lady, Mrs.
Owen, from going in the port-cutter boat. He himself was talking with
Mrs. Owen when the Captain came up to where they were. She told him she
intended going, and had asked one of the men to take care of her and
her little child, and the man had promised to do so. Captain Martin, as
if he knew of the spirits that had been put on board the port cutter,
told her earnestly that there might be drunken seamen in the cutter,
and that she would only be exposing herself, perhaps, to a painful and
lingering death.
“Captain Martin,” said the lad gently, “was quite calm and composed.
The only time I saw him give way was when he told Mrs. Owen that there
was no use in her going into the boat: his feelings then quite overcame
him, and he cried. All the officers of the ship worked well. The
sailing-master, Mr. Harris, was working all day on Monday and Tuesday
with his coat off, and Mr. Grant also behaved exceedingly well. They
were all attentive to duty, and had not lost their mind up to the time
when the ship went down. All the passengers, you could see, had death
in their faces.”
“And what were your own thoughts, you brave young Walter?”
“I felt for leaving my mother, but I did not feel any fear about going
down. I felt some fear on the Monday.”
“But you got accustomed to it, I suppose?”
“Yes.”
“What else do you remember?”
“About twenty persons stood watching King and Daniell getting the port
cutter ready; but King and Daniell induced them to go and try to launch
the port pinnace. Both went to help them to do so, but as soon as they
got them engaged at the pinnace, King and Daniell slipped away, and
were busy about their own boat again.”
“And how did you get into the boat?”
“I was in the mizen-shrouds. I asked King and Daniell would they allow
me in, and they said ‘Yes,’ and bid me jump. I did so. The fall was
about ten feet. Another midshipman was in the next shrouds, but he was
afraid to jump, and he went down with the ship.”
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