THE ESCAPE.
Nineteen persons had entered the port cutter. These consisted of the
second and third engineers, one fireman, the boatswain’s mate, the
quartermaster, the carpenter’s mate, the steward, the boatswain’s boy,
five able seamen, and three passengers. They had received their course
from the now drowned Captain--N.N.E. to Brest, which was 190 miles
distant, and they had compasses on board. Under the direction of King,
the men agreed, that whatever might happen they would sit immoveable,
except when pulling at the oars. Two worked at each oar, and they ran
before the sea. Both Daniell and King deserve the highest praise for
their skill in steering the feeble craft over the raging waters, but it
was pleasant to find them both modest and seamanlike in all they said
about it.
“I believe you took charge of the boat, didn’t you, Daniell?”
“Well, I pulled an oar sometimes, and sometimes steered. I took no
particular charge of the boat, but I gave my opinion and advice now and
then.”
“But you took a little of the lead?”
“Well, I did. Others also gave their opinion.”
Among the “others” who gave counsel was John King.
“How did you manage to steer?”
“Chiefly by the ‘pointers’ to the N.E.”
[Illustration: JOHN KING.]
It was a fearful struggle for life that the brave seamen now engaged
in, as, with parched lips and every nerve strained to its highest pitch
of tension, they rose and fell with the green waves still running
mountains high. It seemed almost hopeless to attempt to withstand any
longer the fury of the sea, which broke over them in angry surges. As
we have said, they had but a quart of water on board, and the bottles
of spirits. It was a fortunate thing that young Edwards succeeded in
getting hold of these and concealing them, for the probability is, that
had the seamen given way to drink in their then excited state, raving
delirium would have set in, and cutter and crew would soon have been
at the bottom. The lad shall tell his own story, and he is worthy of
lasting honour and remembrance for his part in it.
“Daniell agreed to be our hammock man. He sat by me and was pulling the
bow-oar. There was a bag of biscuits weighing two cwt., two bottles of
brandy, and two of champagne, some turnips and carrots, in the boat.
There was some water also on board, but it was thrown out. I picked
up three of the bottles and put them under my coat. Mr. Greenhill and
Daniell knew I had them, but the others did not.”
“Your conduct was very commendable,” said Mr. Traill, “and you did
quite right in trying to keep the bottles of spirit away from the men.
You have begun your career unfortunately, but I hope you may hereafter
succeed as you deserve to do.”
Thursday night came on, and the boat still drifted before the wind,
and about three o’clock the next morning a regular green sea broke
over them and nearly half filled the boat. One of the passengers baled
out the water constantly, and after the green sea came in the water
was baled out with a bucket and cans. Before daylight, and as the
moon rose, the men saw a vessel close alongside. They hailed her with
all their might, and were heard by those on board; but as they could
present no light they could not be seen, although they could see the
ship tacking about for an hour trying to find them. The search was
fruitless, and to their utter disappointment the ship was lost sight
of. The men adhered to their course, and about nine o’clock sighted two
vessels, but could not get near them on account of the cross seas. They
rowed for one of them, however, for nearly five hours, and upon getting
within hail she proved to be an Italian barque, the _Marianople_.
The boat was very near filling when they were within twenty yards of
her. They were struck by a heavy squall, so that all in the boat gave
themselves up for lost. In consequence of the excitement on board--who
can wonder at it?--they did not succeed in clearing one of the seas;
but by only one of the men moving in the boat to bale her out, they
were enabled to bale her clear, and a log line being thrown them from
the barque, one by one they were drawn up on deck! The young midshipman
Edwards was drawn on board by men who caught him by the collar of his
coat.
The shipwrecked were in a most benumbed and perishing state, but the
master of the barque, Captain Cavasa, treated them with the greatest
kindness. The generous Italian could speak but little English, but
his deeds have spoken so forcibly that Englishmen will be long before
they forget his kind-heartedness. By his orders the men were stripped
and rubbed, and clad in fresh warm garments. The good captain killed a
turkey for them, besides providing tea and soup, and setting apart for
them warm beds. After treating them with every kindness, he landed them
at Falmouth, from which port the story of their marvellous escape, and
the loss of so many precious lives in the _London_, flashed with the
speed of the telegraph throughout the length and breadth of the land,
producing everywhere grief and consternation unspeakable.
The following is the list of those saved:--
John Greenhill, engineer; John Jones, second engineer; John Armour,
third engineer; Thomas Brown, fireman; W. M. Edwards, midshipman;
D. T. Smith, boatswain’s mate; Wm. Daniell, quartermaster; John King,
Benjamin Shield, Richard Lewis, James Gough, Edwin Quin, William
Grimes, seamen; A. G. White, boatswain’s boy; William Hart, Carpenter’s
mate; Edward Gardner, second-class steward; D. G. Main, passenger; John
Munro, passenger; J. E. Wilson, passenger.
It is a remarkable fact, moreover, that the _London_ is the first
ship belonging to the famous house of Money Wigram and Sons to which
any serious casualty has occurred. In a century’s experience, Messrs.
Wigram have enjoyed a perfect immunity from loss, with the single
exception of the _True Briton_, which belonged to a former generation
of the firm, and foundered early in the present century in the same
fatal bay.
But in a chapter treating of those who escaped from the wreck of the
_London_, those must not be forgotten who narrowly escaped the doom
which fell upon so many in the Bay of Biscay.
Some hair-breadth escapes in connection with this disaster are well
known. A lady who was desirous of proceeding from Plymouth with her
family to Melbourne by the _London_, had made repeated pressing
applications to the owner’s agents at Plymouth, and the Captain had
been consulted, but, fortunately for the applicant, had declared
that his cabins were so full that he could not possibly accommodate
her, a result that, at that time, caused her much disappointment. A
second-class male passenger was so alarmed at the rough weather which
the _London_ encountered on her way down to Plymouth, that immediately
on her arrival at that port he came ashore, resigned his passage, and
went back to his home, thus unwittingly saving his life. A young man,
as the result of some family quarrel, left his home, and took a passage
by the _London_. He was advertised for, and importuned to return, his
friends being unaware of his whereabouts. Messengers were sent down to
Plymouth, and an influential ship’s broker in the town was employed
to intercept him should he attempt to sail thence. Fortunately he
was detected amongst the passengers of the _London_, and his family
communicated with by the broker, the result of which was that a brother
of the young man came down to Plymouth, and persuaded the would-be
emigrant to forego his voyage.
May those who escaped the voyage by the doomed vessel, as well as those
who got safe to land from the wreck, feel the solemnity of that life
which has thus been so marvellously rescued from a watery grave.
[Illustration]