The Avenger, a steam frigate, with an armament of 6 heavy guns and 280
men, sailed from Gibraltar on the afternoon of the 17th of December,
1847. As her commander, Captain Charles G.E. Napier, was anxious to
spare the coal, the steam was reduced to the least possible degree,
leaving sufficient to work the wheels up to the rate of sailing. On
Monday, the 20th, the steamer was running with square yards, at the
rate of eight or nine knots an hour, steering about east by south,
under double-reefed topsails and reefed foresail. At eight o'clock in
the evening the usual watch was placed, with directions to keep a
careful look-out. The night was dark and squally, with a high sea
running, and occasionally loud peals of thunder were heard,
accompanied with vivid flashes of lightning.
Most of the officers were collected in the gun-room, with the
exception of the captain, who had retired to his sleeping cabin. He
had directed his steward to request the attendance of the master, and
of Mr. Betts, the second master, who soon joined him in the cabin,
where they remained for a few minutes examining the charts. The
captain's steward relates, that the above officers went upon deck,
when Captain Napier desired him to take away the light, and to leave a
small lamp burning in the fore-cabin, which was always kept alight at
sea during the night. He accordingly did so, and returned to his
berth. In about half-an-hour afterwards he heard some one come down
from the quarter-deck, and go into the captain's cabin. In about five
minutes the captain went upon deck, where he remained for a short
time, and again returned to his cabin, but had scarcely closed the
door, before he was summoned upon deck by the officer of the watch.
The officers in the gun-room were upon the point of retiring to their
berths, when they were startled by a sudden jerk, which they at first
supposed to be a gun broken adrift, but the next moment the ship gave
a heavy lurch, as if filling, and her whole frame appeared shaken, and
every beam loosened. It would be in vain to attempt to describe the
dismay of the crew of the ill-fated Avenger, when thus roused from a
sense of comparative security, to find themselves in an instant upon
the verge of destruction. Already the deck was crowded with people,
most of them only partially clothed, and the rest almost naked. On the
bridge between the paddle-boxes stood the captain and master; Mr.
Ayling, the master's assistant, the quarter-master, and two seamen
were at the wheel. In another minute the ship gave a heavy lurch to
starboard, and the sea poured over the forecastle. The captain then
gave the order, 'Out boats--lower away the boats.' These were his last
words, for he was immediately afterwards washed overboard and drowned.
Lieutenant Rooke, who never appears to have lost his presence of mind,
immediately went forward to assist in lowering the boats, but under
the firm impression that the ship was fast sinking, and with little
hope that there was time enough to get out the boats, or even if
lowered, that they could live in such a heavy sea. He saw, however, if
anything was to be done, it must be done immediately; he therefore
went amongst the men endeavouring to persuade them to lower the
starboard cutter; Mr. Betts, the second master, at the same time
attempted to lower the port one. Every entreaty and persuasion that
Lieutenant Rooke could use was, however, of no avail; the men seemed
paralysed with the sudden panic and the apparent helplessness of their
situation. Instead of affording assistance, they clustered together,
exclaiming, 'Oh, my God, Sir, we are lost--we are lost!' Mr. Rooke,
finding that all his arguments were of no avail, crossed the deck to
the port side for the purpose of helping Mr. Betts in lowering the
port cutter. In his way he met Larcom, the gunner, who had just come
from below, with his clothes under his arm, having been in bed when
the ship struck. Hastily acquainting him with his intention, they made
the best of their way to the cutter, where they were joined by Dr.
Steel, the surgeon, Mr. Ayling, master's-assistant, John Owen, a
stoker, James Morley, a boy, and W. Hills, captain's steward. At this
moment, Lieutenant Marryat made his appearance, his manner calm and
self-possessed; he was in the act of addressing himself to one of the
party, when the ship gave a heavy lurch to starboard, and the gallant
young officer lost his footing, and was washed overboard.
Whilst they were in the act of lowering the cutter, an accident
occurred, which was nearly proving fatal to all their hopes of
preservation.
In lowering the boat, the foremost fall got jammed, and the after one
going freely, the boat had her stern in the water, and her bows in the
air; at this moment, Dr. Steel threw in his cloak, which fortunately
got into the sleave-hole of the after fall, and stopped it.
Just as the boat touched the water, and before the tackles were
unhooked, the ship struck again heavily, and began swinging broadside
to the sea, falling over to starboard at the same time, which, from
the cutter being the port one, made her crash with great violence
against the ship's side; however, by dint of great exertion, the boat
was got free from the tackles, and pulled clear of the ship.
The Avenger now lay broadside to the sea, with her head towards
Africa, falling at the same time to windward, with her deck exposed;
the foremast, mainmast, and mizen topmast falling over the starboard
side, and the funnel on the gangway, no doubt killing many of the crew
as it fell. As the boat left the ship's side, some one attempted to
burn a blue-light, but it went out immediately. The sea was now
occasionally seen to break over the forecastle and quarter, and Mr.
Rooke, in the hope of saving some of the crew, gave orders to lie on
their oars, and keep the boat's bow to the ship, to be ready to pick
up any of the survivors in the event of the ship's falling to pieces.
Lieutenant Rooke and his little party[19] remained by the ship for
about an hour and a half, the moon at intervals shining out brightly
from behind the heavy clouds, and discovering the Island of Galita,
apparently at about ten or twelve miles distant. The weather now
became more tempestuous; the rain poured in torrents; and all being
almost exhausted with pulling against a strong current, and being
gradually drawn away from the ship, Lieutenant Rooke considered it
most advisable to run under the lee of Galita, and there, if possible,
remain on their oars until there was daylight sufficient to land, and
seek assistance for the ship, in the event of the island being
inhabited.
All being of the same opinion, the boat's head was turned towards
Galita, and they took a last look of the Avenger, which appeared to be
firmly fixed, and likely to hold together for some time.
The weather grew worse and worse; the boat, under a close-reefed mizen
on the bumpkin stepped as a foremast, was steered with an oar by the
second master. When they had arrived within about two miles of the
island, the wind shifted to a very severe squall, accompanied with
lightning, thunder, and a heavy hail-storm. Mr. Larcom, the gunner,
now took the place of the second master in steering the boat, which
was scarcely got round, before the wind caught her with such violence,
that it seemed impossible the boat could live.
The squall continued without intermission for two hours and a half,
when the moon again emerged from the clouds, and the Island of Galita
was discovered on the port quarter. Some in the boat exclaimed, 'That
is the island!' which, at the time, they supposed to be long out of
sight, as the boat appeared to be going rapidly through the water;
this naturally led to a conjecture that a strong current set to the
northward and eastward. The wind still continued to veer about, and at
one time they thought that they must have passed the ship, but the
night was too dark to enable them to discern anything clearly many
yards beyond the boat.
In this manner they passed the long hours of night, exposed to cold,
hunger, and exhaustion; and, as Lieutenant Rooke afterwards observed,
with the full expectation that they would be unable to survive until
morning. The second master appeared to have lost all reason. Upon
being questioned as to whereabouts they were, or in what direction it
was necessary to steer, he seemed to be scarcely aware that he was
addressed. The doctor, the master's assistant, and the boy Morley,
were lying at the bottom of the boat during the whole night, and the
stoker, John Owen, was wrapped in his jacket, and appeared, if
possible, in a worse condition than the second master. When asked to
do anything, he only replied by vacant answers, and before morning
became an idiot. At last the wished-for day broke, and the coast of
Africa was discerned about eight or nine miles distant. As Lieutenant
Rooke considered that the boat could not be kept above water much
longer, he determined upon attempting a landing, and accordingly he
himself steered her towards a small spot of sand, apparently clear of
the rocks, and slightly sheltered by a reef running out into the sea.
This officer, from the time the boat quitted the Avenger, had,
notwithstanding his own personal sufferings, set a noble example to
his comrades, by exerting every effort to sustain their drooping
spirits. As he approached the shore, he exclaimed in a cheerful voice,
'This is something like Don Juan's shipwreck; I only hope we shall
find a Haidee.' It must not be supposed that this was said out of
bravado, or because he was not perfectly aware of the danger, but from
the necessity of his duty, as their commanding officer, to infuse a
new spirit into his exhausted crew, and to encourage them in the
approaching struggle, which he well knew would he 'life or death.' On
hearing the above words, poor Steel, the doctor, exclaimed, 'Rooke!
Rooke! there are other things to think of now.' The words were
prophetic, for before many minutes had elapsed, he had ceased to
exist. As they approached the shore, the sail was shifted from the
port side to the starboard, and the sheet which had been held by
Hills, the captain's steward, for ten hours, was fastened to the
thwarts.
Mr. Rooke now again resigned his place as steerer to Larcom, the
gunner, and assisted the others in baling out the boat, which had
shipped a heavy sea on the quarter. The boat was steered within about
one hundred and fifty yards of the beach, when the rollers caught her,
first lifting her upright, and, as there was not water enough to float
her whole length, she filled and capsized. Larcom, Lieutenant Rooke,
Hills, the captain's steward, and the boy Morley, succeeded in gaining
the beach, but the rest of their unfortunate comrades perished.
We should here mention that this was the second occasion on which the
boy Morley narrowly escaped a watery grave.
When the Avenger was at Lisbon, the boy fell overboard, and would have
perished, had it not been for Lieutenant Marryat, who, at the risk of
his own life, sprung into the sea, and rescued the boy.
In a few minutes a Bedouin Arab, who had been watching the boat from
some high ground, came toward them and conducted them to his hut,
where he supplied them with some milk; and having lighted a fire, they
were enabled to dry their clothes.
They remained with their hospitable entertainer during that day, and
in the evening made a supper of maize-cake and sour milk. In the
meantime, Mr. Rooke had made the Arab understand their situation, and
their wish to get to Tunis; and after some trouble and promise of
reward, he agreed to conduct them next morning to Biserta. The wearied
men then threw themselves on the ground, where they passed the night
in company with dogs, cows, and goats, exposed to a violent wind and
pouring rain.