The following account of the loss of the Apollo is taken almost
verbatim from the narrative of Mr. Lewis, clerk of the ship, an
eye-witness of the occurrence. His narrative is too graphic to be
suppressed:--'On Monday, the 26th of March, 1804, His Majesty's ship
Apollo sailed from the Cove of Cork in company with the Carysfort, and
sixty-nine sail of merchantmen under convoy, for the West Indies. On
the 27th, we were out of sight of land, with a fair wind blowing fresh
from the west-south-west. At eight o'clock on the evening of Sunday,
the 1st of April, the wind shifted from south-west to south-east. At
ten o'clock, we up mainsail and set mainstay-sail. At a quarter past
ten, the mainstay-sail split by the sheet giving way. All hands were
called upon deck. It blew strong and squally; we took in the
foretop-sail and set the foresail. At half-past eleven the
maintop-sail split; furled it and the mainsail. The ship was now under
her foresails, the wind blowing hard, with a heavy sea.
'At about half-past three on Monday morning, April 2nd, the ship
struck the ground, to the astonishment of every one on board, and by
the last reckoning, we conjectured we were upon an unknown shoal.
'The vessel struck very heavily several times, by which her bottom was
materially injured, and she made a great deal of water. The chain
pumps were rigged with the utmost despatch, and the men began to pump,
but in about ten minutes she beat and drove over the shoal, and on
endeavouring to steer her, they found her rudder was carried away. The
ship was then got before the wind, the pumps were kept going, but
from the quantity of water shipped, there was every probability of her
soon foundering, as she was filling and sinking very fast.
'After running about five minutes, the ship struck the ground again
with such violent shocks, that we feared she would go to pieces
instantly; however, she kept striking and driving further on the
sands, the sea washing completely over her. Orders were given to cut
away the lanyards of the main and mizen rigging, when the masts fell
with a tremendous crash over the larboard-side: the foremast followed
immediately after. The ship then fell on her starboard-side, with the
gunwale under water. The violence with which she struck the ground and
the weight of the guns (those on the quarter-deck tearing away the
bulwarks) soon made the ship a perfect wreck abaft, and only four or
five guns could possibly be fired to alarm the convoy and give notice
of danger.
'On her drifting a second time, most pitiful cries were heard
everywhere between decks; many of the men giving themselves up to
inevitable death. I was told that I might as well stay below, as there
was an equal likelihood of perishing if I got upon deck. I was,
however, determined to go--and attempted, in the first place, to enter
my cabin, but I was in danger of having my legs broken by the chests
floating about, and the bulkheads giving way.
'I therefore desisted and endeavoured to get upon deck, which I
effected after being several times washed down the hatchway by the
immense body of water incessantly pouring down. As the ship still beat
the ground very heavily, it was necessary to cling fast to some part
of the wreck to save oneself from being washed away by the surges, or
hurled overboard by the concussions. The people held on by the
larboard bulwark of the quarter-deck and in the main chains. The good
captain stood naked upon the cabin skylight grating, making use of
every soothing expression that suggested itself--to encourage men in
such a perilous situation. Most of the officers and men were entirety
naked, not having had time to slip on even a pair of trousers.
'Our horrible situation became every moment more dreadful, until at
daybreak, about half-past four o'clock, we discerned land at two
cables' distance, a long sandy beach reaching to Cape Mondego, three
leagues to the southward of us. On daylight clearing up, we could
perceive between twenty and thirty sail of the convoy ashore, both to
northward and southward, and several of them perfect wrecks. We were
now certain of being on the coast of Portugal, from seeing the cape
mentioned above,--though I am sorry to say no person in the ship had
the least idea of being so near the coast. It was blowing very hard,
and the sea was running mountains high, so that there was little hope
of being saved. About eight o'clock, the ship seemed likely to go to
pieces, and the after part lying lowest, Captain Dixon ordered every
one forward,--a command it was difficult to comply with, from the
motion of the mainmast working on the larboard gunwale, there being no
other way to get forward. Mr. Cook, the boatswain, had his thigh
broken in endeavouring to get a boat over the side. Of six boats not
one was saved, all being stoved, and washed overboard with the booms, &c.
'Soon after the people got forward, the ship parted at the gangways.
The crew were now obliged to stow themselves in the fore-channels, and
from thence to the bowsprit end, to the number of 220,--for, out of
the 240 persons on board when the ship first struck, I suppose twenty
to have previously perished between decks and otherwise. Mr. Lawton,
the gunner, the first who attempted to swim ashore, was drowned;
afterwards, Lieutenant Witson, Mr. Runice, surgeon, Mr. McCabe,
surgeon's mate, Mr. Staudley, master's mate, and several men, were
also drowned (though they were excellent swimmers), by the sea
breaking over them in enormous surges. About thirty persons had the
good fortune to reach the shore upon planks and spars, amongst whom
were Lieutenant Harvey and Mr. Callam, master's mate. On Monday night,
our situation was truly horrible; the old men and boys were dying from
hunger and fatigue; Messrs. Proby and Hayes, midshipmen, died also.
Captain Dixon remained all night upon the bowsprit.
'Tuesday morning presented no better prospect of relief from the jaws
of death. The wind blew stronger, and the sea was much more turbulent.
About noon, our drooping spirits were somewhat revived by seeing
Lieutenant Harvey and Mr. Callam hoisting out a boat from one of the
merchant ships to come to our assistance. They attempted several times
to launch her through the surf; but she was a very heavy boat, and the
sea on the beach acted so powerfully against them, they could not
effect their purpose, though they were assisted by nearly one hundred
of the merchant sailors and Portuguese peasants. This day, several men
went upon rafts made from pieces of the wreck; but not one reached the
shore: the wind having shifted, and the current setting _out_, they
were all driven to sea, and amongst them our captain and three
sailors. Anxious to save the remainder of the ship's company, and too
sanguine of getting safe on shore, he had ventured upon the spar,
saying, as he jumped into the sea, 'My lads, I'll save you all.' In a
few seconds, he lost his hold of the spar, which he could not regain:
he drifted to sea, and perished: and such was also the fate of the
three brave volunteers who shared his fortune.
'The loss of our captain, who had hitherto animated the almost
lifeless crew, and the failure of Lieutenant Harvey and Mr. Callam, in
their noble exertions to launch the boat, extinguished every gleam of
hope, and we looked forward to certain death on the ensuing night, not
only from cold, hunger, and fatigue, but from the expectation that the
remaining part of the wreck might go to pieces at any moment. Had not
the Apollo been a new and well-built ship, that small portion of her
could not have resisted the waves, and held so well together, when all
the after-part from the chess-tree was gone, the starboard bow under
water, and the forecastle deck nearly perpendicular. The weight of the
guns hanging to the larboard bulwark on the inside, and on the outside
the bower and spare anchors, which it was not prudent to cut away, as
they afforded a resting-place to a considerable number of men, added
to the danger. It had become impossible to remain any longer in the
head, or upon the bowsprit, the breakers washing continually over
those places, so that one hundred and fifty men were stowed in the
fore-channels and cat's-head, where alone it was possible to live.
'The night drawing on, the wind increasing, with frequent showers of
rain, the sea washing over us, and the expectation becoming every
instant more certain, that the forecastle would give way and that we
must all perish together, afforded a spectacle truly deplorable, and
the bare recollection of which makes me shudder. The piercing cries of
the people, this dismal night, as the sea washed over them every two
minutes, were pitiful in the extreme. The water running from the head
down over the body kept us continually wet. On that fearful night
every man's strength was exerted for his own individual safety. From
crowding so close together in so narrow a compass, and having nothing
to moisten their mouths, several poor wretches were suffocated, like
those in the black hole,--with this only difference, that we were
confined by water instead of strong walls; and the least movement or
relaxation of our hold would have plunged us into eternity.
'Some unfortunate men drank salt water, several endeavoured to quench
their raging thirst by a still more unnatural means; some chewed
leather, myself and many others thought we experienced great relief by
chewing lead, as it produced saliva.
'In less than an hour after the ship had struck the ground, all the
provisions were under water, and the ship a wreck, so that we were
entirely without food. After a night of most intense suffering,
daylight enabled us to see Lieutenant Harvey and Mr. Callam again
endeavouring to launch the boat. Several attempts were made without
success, and a number of men belonging to the merchant ships were much
bruised and injured in their efforts to assist. Alternate hopes and
fears possessed our wretched minds.
'Fifteen men got safe on shore, this morning, on pieces of the wreck.
About three, P.M., of Wednesday, the 4th, we had the inexpressible
happiness of seeing the boat launched through the surf, by the
indefatigable exertions of the two officers, assisted by the masters
of the merchant ships, and a number of Portuguese peasants, who were
encouraged by Mr. Whitney, the British Consul from Figuera.
'All the crew then remaining on the wreck were brought safe on shore,
praising God for this happy deliverance, from a shipwreck which never
yet had its parallel.
'As soon as I slipt out of the boat, I found several persons whose
humanity prompted them to offer me refreshment, though imprudently, in
the form of spirits, which I avoided as much as possible.
'Our weak state may be conceived when it is remembered that we had
tasted no nourishment from Sunday to Wednesday afternoon, and had been
exposed all that time to the fury, of the elements. After eating and
drinking a little, I found myself weaker than before, owing, I
imagine, to having been so long without food. Some men died soon after
getting on shore, from taking too large a quantity of spirits. The
whole of the crew were in a very weak and exhausted state, and the
greater part of them were also severely bruised and wounded.'
Such is Mr. Lewis's account of the wreck of the Apollo, one of our
finest frigates, and the loss of sixty of her men.
The cause of this catastrophe seems to have been an error in the
reckoning. At twelve o'clock on Sunday, the land was supposed to be
thirty or forty leagues distant, nor were they aware of their true
position when the vessel struck at three o'clock the following
morning, on what was supposed to be an unknown shoal. Never, perhaps,
in the annals of maritime disaster, was there a scene more rife with
horror than that upon which the daylight broke on the morning of the
2nd of April.
The frigate, which but a few hours before had been careering on her
way with her gallant company full of life and energy, now lay a
hapless wreck--her timbers crashing beneath the fury of the waves. The
merchant vessels around were stranded in all directions, and the air
resounded with the despairing shrieks of those on board. The
destruction of the Apollo seemed inevitable; but in this hour of
trial, the captain was firm and resolute, sustaining by words and
example the courage of his crew; and when no other means of escape
presented themselves, he sacrificed his own life in the endeavour to
obtain rescue for those under his charge.
The narrator of this sad tale, has touchingly described in no
exaggerated terms the sufferings of the wretched crowd who were
exposed for nearly three days and nights to the worst of physical and
mental evils--hunger, thirst, cold, and nakedness--in their most
aggravated form, rendered still more painful by the almost utter
hopelessness of their condition, while they watched the repeated
failures of Lieutenant Harvey and Mr. Callam in their attempts to send
a boat to their relief. We need not therefore dwell on this subject
further than to observe that, under Providence, it was by the
undaunted courage and perseverance of those two officers that the
remainder of the crew of the Apollo were saved from destruction--for
no one else had been found bold enough to attempt their rescue,
although the Consul of Figuera had offered 100 guineas to any man that
would take a boat to the wreck.
No less than forty merchantmen were wrecked at the same time. Several
sunk with all their crew, and the remainder lost from two to twelve
men each. Yet Mr. Lewis describes the situation of these ships as not
so dangerous as that of the frigate, because the merchantmen, drawing
less water, were driven closer in to shore, and the men were enabled
to land after the first morning.
The Apollo's company received every mark of kindness and attention
when they got on shore, from the masters of the merchant vessels, who
had erected tents on the beach, and who shared with the sufferers
whatever provisions they had saved from the wrecks.
Dead bodies floated on shore for many days after, and pieces of wreck
covered the beach, marking the scene of this sad calamity.
Fortunately, the Carysfort, with part of the convoy, escaped the fate
of her consort by wearing, and arrived safely at Barbadoes. The
surviving officers and crew of the Apollo marched to Figuera, a
distance of eighteen miles, from whence they were conveyed in a
schooner to Lisbon, and brought by the Orpheus frigate to Portsmouth.
On their arrival in England, they were tried by a court martial; and
it is satisfactory to know that they were all fully acquitted.
It is a principal object in this work to draw attention to the
advantages of firm and steady discipline in all cases of emergency. We
cannot, therefore, omit to show than when a spirit of insubordination
breaks out under circumstances of danger, how surely it is attended
with fatal results.
In the course of the evidence adduced before the court of inquiry upon
the loss of the Apollo, it was proved that about twenty of her men had
broken into the spirit room; disorder, of course, ensued; and
Lieutenant Harvey gave it as his opinion, that, if these men had
remained sober, many lives might have been spared. There is so much
cause for regret in the whole catastrophe, that we will not harshly
impute blame to one party or another. We may see some palliation for
the misconduct of the men in the awful situation in which they were
placed--their fears, perhaps, made them forgetful alike of their duty
to their king, their country, and themselves; but it is cheering to
know that such cases are rare in the British Navy, and we are happy in
having very few such to record: they are alluded to only in the hope
that our seamen may learn from them to value that strict discipline
and order, which, in a moment of danger, is their greatest safeguard.
Lieutenant, now Rear Admiral, Harvey subsequently served in the
Amethyst, Amaranthe, and Intrepid. His promotion to the rank of
commander took place in 1808, when he was appointed to the Cephalus,
in the Mediterranean, and there he captured four of the enemy's
privateers, and several merchant vessels. His post commission bears
date April 18, 1811, and he was employed off Corfu till the month of
December following. His last ship was the Implacable, which he paid
off in 1814. He obtained his flag as rear-admiral in December, 1847.
This officer now holds the appointment of Admiral Superintendent of
Malta Dockyard.