daggers, he having two stabs in his left thigh, one in his groin, one in
his back, one in his breast, and one in his neck; Henry Thompson,
seaman, very dangerously, with daggers, having one wound on the right
side, one on the left shoulder, another on the left arm, and two or
three smaller ones on the same arm, one on the right temple, and another
on the left cheek; Ebenezer Williams, seaman, had three wounds in his
thigh, with daggers,--two on his back, and one on the right shoulder
with a boarding-pike; Luke Bates, seamen, one wound on the right
shoulder with a boarding-pike; Joseph Robinson, carpenter, wounded on
the left breast; Thomas Edwards, steward, stabbed on the left shoulder;
W. Walker had two stabs, with daggers, in his back.
After the deck was cleared of these sanguinary savages, several guns
were fired at the village, the sails were loosened, stream-cable cut,
and the ship put to sea. The same night they got under weigh, seven
large war-canoes hove in sight, with about thirty Indians in each. In
this deplorable condition, with only four or five hands on board capable
of duty, the Atahualpa shaped her course for New Heita; but the wind
chopping round, put about, and stood to the westward.
On the 17th, it was thought time to bury the dead, when, after having
sewed them up, and got them ready for interment, prayers were read. They
were then buried in Queen Charlotte's Sound.
It cannot be ascertained with any degree of accuracy, how many of the
Indians were killed in this dreadful contest. It is supposed, however,
that the number must have exceeded forty; for a large canoe being under
the ship's bow, with about twenty Indians in her, who were cutting a
cable, a swivel and several muskets were fired into her, and but one of
the Indians reached the shore in safety.
During the conflict with the savages, there were two barrels of powder
unheaded, and a loaded pistol prepared and given to a person who stood
ready, should they get into the cabin, and secure to themselves the
ship, to fire into it, and blow the whole up, preferring to die in that
manner rather than fall into the hands of such merciless wretches.
[Illustration: SHIPWRECK OF THE BLENDENHALL.]
SHIPWRECK OF THE BLENDENHALL.
In the year 1821, the Blendenhall, free trader, bound from England for
Bombay, partly laden with broad-cloths, was proceeding on her voyage
with every prospect of a successful issue. While thus pursuing her way
through the Atlantic, she was unfortunately driven from her course, by
adverse winds and currents, more to the southward and westward than was
required, and it became desirable to reach the island of Tristan
d'Acunha, in order to ascertain and rectify the reckoning. This island,
which is called after the Portuguese admiral who first discovered it, is
one of a group of three, the others being the Inaccessible and
Nightingale Islands, situated many hundreds of miles from any land, and
in a south-westerly direction from the Cape of Good Hope. The shores are
rugged and precipitous in the extreme, and form, perhaps, the most
dangerous coast upon which any vessel could be driven.
It was while steering to reach this group of islands, that, one morning,
a passenger on board the Blendenhall, who chanced to be upon deck
earlier than usual, observed great quantities of sea-weed occasionally
floating alongside. This excited some alarm, and a man was immediately
sent aloft to keep a good look-out. The weather was then extremely hazy,
though moderate; the weeds continued; all were on the alert; they
shortened sail, and the boatswain piped for breakfast. In less than ten
minutes, "breakers ahead!" startled every soul, and in a moment all were
on deck. "Breakers starboard! breakers larboard! breakers all around,"
was the ominous cry a moment afterwards, and all was confusion. The
words were scarcely uttered, when, and before the helm was up, the
ill-fated ship struck, and after a few tremendous shocks against the
sunken reef, she parted about mid-ship. Ropes and stays were cut
away--all rushed forward, as if instinctively, and had barely reached
the forecastle, when the stern and quarter-deck broke asunder with a
violent crash, and sunk to rise no more. Two of the seamen miserably
perished--the rest, including officers, passengers and crew, held on
about the head and bows--the struggle was for life!
At this moment, the Inaccessible Island, which till then had been veiled
in thick clouds and mist, appeared frowning above the haze. The wreck
was more than two miles from the frightful shore. The base of the
island was still buried in impenetrable gloom. In this perilous
extremity, one was for cutting away the anchor, which had been got up to
the cat-head in time of need; another was for cutting down the foremast
(the foretop-mast being already by the board.) The fog totally
disappeared, and the black rocky island stood in all its rugged
deformity before their eyes. Suddenly the sun broke out in full
splendor, as if to expose more clearly to the view of the sufferers
their dreadful predicament. Despair was in every bosom--death, arrayed
in all its terrors, seemed to hover over the wreck. But exertion was
required, and every thing that human energy could devise was effected.
The wreck, on which all eagerly clung, was fortunately drifted by the
tide and wind between ledges of sunken rocks and thundering breakers,
until, after the lapse of several hours, it entered the only spot on the
island where a landing was possibly practicable, for all the other parts
of the coast consisted of perpendicular cliffs of granite, rising from
amidst the deafening surf to the height of twenty, forty, and sixty
feet. As the shore was neared, a raft was prepared, and on this a few
paddled for the cove. At last the wreck drove right in: ropes were
instantly thrown out, and the crew and passengers, (except two who had
been crushed in the wreck,) including three ladies and a female
attendant, were snatched from the watery grave, which a few short hours
before had appeared inevitable, and safely landed on the beach. Evening
had now set in, and every effort was made to secure whatever could be
saved from the wreck. Bales of cloth, cases of wine, a few boxes of
cheese, some hams, the carcass of a milch cow that had been washed on
shore, buckets, tubs, butts, a seaman's chest, (containing a tinder-box
and needles and thread,) with a number of elegant mahogany turned
bed-posts, and part of an investment for the India market, were got on
shore. The rain poured down in torrents--all hands were busily at work
to procure shelter from the weather; and with the bed-posts and
broad-cloths, and part of the foresail, as many tents were soon pitched
as there were individuals on the island.
Drenched with the sea and with the rain, hungry, cold, and comfortless,
thousands of miles from their native land, almost beyond expectation of
human succor, hope nearly annihilated,--the shipwrecked voyagers retired
to their tents. In the morning the wreck had gone to pieces; and planks,
and spars, and whatever had floated in, were eagerly dragged on shore.
No sooner was the unfortunate ship broken up, than deeming themselves
freed from the bonds of authority, many began to secure whatever came to
land: and the captain, officers, passengers, and crew, were now reduced
to the same level, and obliged to take their turn to fetch water, and
explore the island for food. The work of exploring was soon over--there
was not a bird, nor a quadruped, nor a single tree to be seen. All was
barren and desolate. The low parts were scattered over with stones and
sand, and a few stunted weeds, rocks, ferns, and other plants. The top
of the mountain was found to consist of a fragment of original
table-land, very marshy, and full of deep sloughs, intersected with
small rills of water, pure and pellucid as crystal, and a profusion of
wild parsley and celery. The prospect was one dreary scene of
destitution, without a single ray of hope to relieve the misery of the
desponding crew. After some days, the dead cow, hams, and cheese, were
consumed; and from one end of the island to the other, not a morsel of
food could be seen. Even the celery began to fail. A few bottles of
wine, which, for security had been secreted under ground, only remained.
Famine now began to threaten. Every stone near the sea was examined for
shell-fish, but in vain.
In this dreadful extremity, and while the half-famished seamen were at
night squatting in sullen dejection round their fires, a large lot of
sea-birds, allured by the flames, rushed into the midst of them, and
were greedily laid hold of as fast as they could be seized. For several
nights in succession, similar flocks came in; and by multiplying their
fires a considerable supply was secured. These visits, however, ceased
at length, and the wretched party were exposed again to the most severe
privation. When their stock of wild fowl had been exhausted for more
than two days, each began to fear they were now approaching that sad
point of necessity, when, between death and casting lots who should be
sacrificed to serve for food for the rest, no alternative remained.
While horror at the bare contemplation of an extremity so repulsive
occupied the thoughts of all, the horizon was observed to be suddenly
obscured, and presently clouds of penguin alighted on the island. The
low grounds were actually covered; and before the evening was dark, the
sand could not be seen for the number of eggs, which, like a sheet of
snow, lay on the surface of the earth. The penguins continued on the
island four or five days, when, as if by signal, the whole took their
flight, and were never seen again. A few were killed, but the flesh was
so extremely rank and nauseous that it could not be eaten. The eggs
were collected and dressed in all manner of ways, and supplied abundance
of food for upwards of three weeks. At the expiration of that period,
famine once more seemed inevitable; the third morning began to dawn upon
the unfortunate company after their stock of eggs were exhausted; they
had now been without food for more than forty hours, and were fainting
and dejected; when, as though this desolate rock were really a land of
miracles, a man came running up to the encampment with the unexpected
and joyful tidings that "millions of sea-cows had come on shore." The
crew climbed over the ledge of rocks that flanked their tents, and the
sight of a shoal of manatees immediately beneath them gladdened their
hearts. These came in with the flood, and were left in the puddles
between the broken rocks of the cove. This supply continued for two or
three weeks. The flesh was mere blubber, and quite unfit for food, for
not a man could retain it on his stomach; but the liver was excellent,
and on this they subsisted. In the meantime, the carpenter with his
gang had constructed a boat, and four of the men had adventured in her
for Tristan d'Acunha, in hopes of ultimately extricating their
fellow-sufferers from their perilous situation. Unfortunately the boat
was lost--whether carried away by the violence of the currents that set
in between the islands, or dashed to pieces against the breakers, was
never known, for no vestige of the boat or crew was ever seen. Before
the manatees, however, began to quit the shore, a second boat was
launched; and in this an officer and some seamen made a second attempt,
and happily succeeded in effecting a landing, after much labor, on the
island, where they were received with much cordiality and humanity by
Governor Glass--a personage whom it will be necessary to describe.
Tristan d'Acunha is believed to have been uninhabited until 1811, when
three Americans took up their residence upon it, for the purpose of
cultivating vegetables, and selling the produce, particularly potatoes,
to vessels which might touch there on their way to India, the Cape, or
other parts in the southern ocean. These Americans remained its only
inhabitants till 1816, when, on Bonaparte being sent to St. Helena, the
British government deemed it expedient to garrison the island, and sent
the Falmouth man-of-war with a colony of forty persons, which arrived in
the month of August. At this time the chief of the American settlers was
dead, and two only survived; but what finally became of these we are not
informed. The British garrison was soon given up, the colony abandoned,
and all returned to the Cape of Good Hope, except a person named Glass,
a Scotchman, who had been corporal of artillery, and his wife, a Cape
Creole. One or two other families afterwards joined them, and thus the
foundation of a nation on a small scale was formed; Mr. Glass, with the
title and character of governor, like a second Robinson Crusoe, being
the undisputed chief and lawgiver of the whole. On being visited in
1825, by Mr. Augustus Earle, the little colony was found to be on the
increase, a considerable number of children having been born since the
period of settlement. The different families inhabited a small village,
consisting of cottages covered with thatch made of the long grass of the
island, and exhibiting an air of comfort, cleanliness, and plenty, truly
English.
It was to this island that the boat's crew of the Blendenhall had bent
their course, and its principal inhabitant, Governor Glass, showed them
every mark of attention, not only on the score of humanity, but because
they were fellow-subjects of the same power--for, be it known, Glass did
not lay claim to independent monarchy, but always prayed publicly for
King George as his lawful sovereign. On learning the situation of the
crew, on Inaccessible Island, he instantly launched his boat, and unawed
by considerations of personal danger, hastened, at the risk of his life,
to deliver his shipwrecked countrymen from the calamities they had so
long endured. He made repeated trips, surmounted all difficulties, and
fortunately succeeded in safely landing them on his own island, after
they had been exposed for nearly three months to the horrors of a
situation almost unparalleled in the recorded sufferings of seafaring
men.
After being hospitably treated by Glass and his company for three
months, the survivors obtained a passage to the Cape, all except a young
sailor named White, who had formed an attachment to one of the servant
girls on board, and who, in all the miseries which had been endured, had
been her constant protector and companion; whilst gratitude on her part
prevented her wishing to leave him. Both chose to remain, and were
forthwith adopted as free citizens of the little community.
SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA.
On the 17th of June, 1816, the Medusa, French frigate, commanded by
Captain Chaumareys, and accompanied by three smaller vessels, sailed
from the island of Aix, for the coast of Africa, in order to take
possession of some colonies. The first accident she encountered was off
Cape Finisterre, when one of the crew fell into the sea; and from the
apathy of his companions, their want of promptitude in manoeuvring, with
the want of every precaution, he was left to perish. On the tenth day of
sailing, there appeared an error of thirty leagues in the reckoning. On
the 1st of July, they entered the tropics; and there, with a childish
disregard to danger, and knowing that she was surrounded by all the
unseen perils of the ocean, her crew performed the ceremony usual to the
occasion, while the vessel was running headlong on destruction. The
captain, presided over the disgraceful scene of merriment, leaving the
ship to the command of a Mons. Richefort, who had passed the ten
preceding years of his life in an English prison--a few persons on board
remonstrated in vain; though it was ascertained that they were on the
banks of Arguise, she continued her course, and heaved the lead, without
slackening the sail. Every thing denoted shallow water, but M. Richefort
persisted in saying that they were in one hundred fathoms. At that very
moment only six fathoms were found; and the vessel struck three times,
being in about sixteen feet water, and the tide full flood. At ebb-tide,
there remained but twelve feet water; and after some bungling
manoeuvres, all hope of getting the ship off was abandoned.
When the frigate struck, she had on board six boats, of various
capacities, all of which could not contain the crew and passengers; and
a raft was constructed. A dreadful scene ensued. All scrambled out of
the wreck without order or precaution. The first who reached the boats
refused to admit any of their fellow-sufferers into them, though there
was ample room for more. Some, apprehending that a plot had been formed
to abandon them in the vessel, flew to arms. No one assisted his
companions; and Captain Chaumareys stole out of a port-hole into his own
boat, leaving a great part of the crew to shift for themselves. At
length they put off to sea, intending to steer for the sandy coast of
the desert, there to land, and thence to proceed with a caravan to the
island of St. Louis.
The raft had been constructed without foresight or intelligence. It was
about sixty-five feet long and twenty-five broad, but the only part
which could be depended upon was the middle; and that was so small, that
fifteen persons could not lie down upon it. Those who stood on the floor
were in constant danger of slipping through between the planks; the sea
flowed in on all its sides. When one hundred and fifty passengers who
were destined to be its burden, were on board, they stood like a solid
parallelogram, without a possibility of moving; and they were up to
their waists in water. The original plan was, that as much provision as
possible should be put upon this raft; that it should be taken in tow by
the six boats; and that, at stated intervals, the crews should come on
board to receive their rations. As they left the ship, M. Correard asked
whether the charts, instruments, and sea-stores were on board; and was
told by an officer, that nothing was wanting. "And who is to command
us?" "I am to command you," answered he, "and will be with you in a
moment." The officer with these words, the last in his mouth, went on
board one of the boats, and returned no more.
The desperate squadron had only proceeded three leagues, when a faulty,
if not treacherous manoeuvre, broke the tow-line which fastened the
captain's boat to the raft; and this became the signal to all to let
loose their cables. The weather was calm. The coast was known to be but
twelve or fifteen leagues distant; and the land was in fact discovered
by the boats on the very evening on which they abandoned the raft. They
were not therefore driven to this measure by any new perils; and the cry
of "_Nous les abandonons!_" which resounded throughout the line, was the
yell of a spontaneous and instinctive impulse of cowardice, perfidy, and
cruelty; and the impulse was as unanimous as it was diabolical. The raft
was left to the mercy of the waves; one after another, the boats
disappeared, and despair became general. Not one of the promised
articles, no provisions, except a very few casks of wine, and some
spoiled biscuit, sufficient for one single meal was found. A small
pocket compass, which chance had discovered, their last guide in a
trackless ocean, fell between the beams into the sea. As the crew had
taken no nourishment since morning, some wine and biscuit were
distributed; and this day, the first of thirteen on the raft, was the
last on which they tasted any solid food--except such as human nature
shudders at. The only thing which kept them alive was the hope of
revenge on those who had treacherously betrayed them.
The first night was stormy; and the waves, which had free access,
committed dreadful ravages, and threatened worse. When day appeared,
twelve miserable wretches were found crushed to death between the
openings of the raft, and several more were missing; but the number
could not be ascertained, as several soldiers had taken the billets of
the dead, in order to obtain two, or even three rations. The second
night was still more dreadful, and many were washed off; although the
crew had so crowded together, that some were smothered by the mere
pressure. To soothe their last moments, the soldiers drank immoderately;
and one, who affected to rest himself upon the side, but was
treacherously cutting the ropes, was thrown into the sea. Another whom
M. Correard had snatched from the waves, turned traitor a second time,
as soon as he had recovered his senses; but he too was killed. At length
the revolted, who were chiefly soldiers, threw themselves upon their
knees, and abjectly implored mercy. At midnight, however, they rebelled
again. Those who had no arms, fought with their teeth, and thus many
severe wounds were inflicted. One was most wantonly and dreadfully
bitten above the heel, while his companions were beating him upon the
head with their carbines, before throwing him into the sea. The raft was
strewed with dead bodies, after innumerable instances of treachery and
cruelty; and from sixty to sixty-five perished that night. The force and
courage of the strongest began to yield to their misfortunes; and even
the most resolute labored under mental derangement. In the conflict, the
revolted had thrown two casks of wine, and all the remaining water, into
the sea; and it became necessary to diminish each man's share.
A day of comparative tranquility succeeded. The survivors erected their
mast again, which had been wantonly cut down in the battle of the night;
and endeavored to catch some fish, but in vain. They were reduced to
feed on the dead bodies of their companions. A third night followed,
broken by the plaintive cries of wretches, exposed to every kind of
suffering, ten or twelve of whom died of want, and awfully foretold the
fate of the remainder. The following day was fine. Some flying fish were
caught in the raft; which, mixed up with human flesh, afforded one
scanty meal.
A new insurrection to destroy the raft, broke out on the fourth night;
this too, was marked by perfidy, and ended in blood. Most of the rebels
were thrown into the sea. The fifth morning mustered but thirty men
alive; and these sick and wounded, with the skin of their lower
extremities corroded by the salt water. Two soldiers were detected
drinking the wine of the only remaining cask; they were instantly thrown
into the sea. One boy died, and there remained only twenty-seven; of
whom fifteen only seemed likely to live. A council of war, preceded by
the most horrid despair, was held; as the weak consumed a part of the
common store, they determined to throw them into the sea. This sentence
was put into immediate execution! and all the arms on board, which now
filled their minds with horror, were, with the exception of a single
sabre, committed to the deep.
Distress and misery increased with an accelerated ratio; and even after
the desperate measure of destroying their companions, and eating the
most nauseous aliments, the surviving fifteen could not hope for more
than a few days' existence. A butterfly lighted on their sail the ninth
day, and though it was held to be a messenger of good, yet many a
greedy eye was cast upon it. Some sea-fowl also appeared; but it was
impossible to catch them. The misery of the survivors increased with a
rapidity which cannot be described; they even stole from each other
little goblets of urine which had been set to cool in the sea water, and
were now considered a luxury. The most trifling article of food, a
lemon, a small bottle of spirituous dentrifice, a little garlic, became
causes of contention; and every daily distribution of wine awakened a
spirit of selfishness and ferocity, which common sufferings and common
interest could not subdue into more social feelings.
Three days more passed over in expressible anguish, when they
constructed a smaller and more manageable raft, in the hope of directing
it to the shore; but on trial it was found insufficient. On the
seventeenth day, a brig was seen; which, after exciting the vicissitudes
of hope and fear, proved to be the Argus, sent out in quest of the
Medusa. The inhabitants of the raft were all received on board, and were
again very nearly perishing, by a fire which broke out in the night.
The six boats which had so cruelly cast them adrift, reached the coast
of Africa in safety; and after many dangers among the Moors, the
survivors arrived at St. Louis.