away the money and provisions; after beating about for eight days, she
was forced to return. She again put to sea, but after being away five
days, again came back. Ten days more were lost in repairing her; and she
did not reach the spot till fifty-two days after the vessel had been
lost; and dreadful to relate, three miserable sufferers were found on
board. Sixty men had been abandoned there by their magnanimous
countrymen. All these had been carried off except seventeen, some of
whom were drunk, and others refused to leave the vessel. They remained
at peace as long as their provisions lasted. Twelve embarked on board a
raft, for Sahara, and were never more heard of. Another put to sea on a
hen-coop, and sunk immediately. Four remained behind, one of whom,
exhausted with hunger and fatigue, perished. The other three lived in
separate corners of the wreck, and never met but to run at each other
with drawn _knives_. They were put on board the vessel, with all that
could be saved from the wreck of the Medusa.
The vessel was no sooner seen returning to St. Louis, than every heart
beat high with joy, in the hope of recovering some property. The men and
officers of the Medusa jumped on board, and asked if any thing had been
saved. "Yes," was the reply, "but it is all ours now;" and the naked
Frenchmen, whose calamities had found pity from the Moors of the desert,
were now deliberately plundered by their own countrymen.
A fair was held in the town, which lasted eight days. The clothes,
furniture, and necessary articles of life, belonging to the men and
officers of the Medusa, were publicly sold before their faces. Such of
the French as were able, proceeded to the camp at Daceard, and the sick
remained at St. Louis. The French governor had promised them clothes
and provisions, but sent none; and during five months, they owed their
existence to strangers--to the British.
SINGULAR LOSS OF THE SHIP ESSEX, SUNK BY A WHALE.
The ship Essex, Captain George Pollard, sailed from Nantucket, on the
12th of August, 1819, on a whaling voyage to the Pacific Ocean. Her crew
consisted of twenty-one men, fourteen of whom were whites, mostly
belonging to Nantucket, the remainder were blacks. On the 20th of
November, 1820, in latitude 0° 40' S. longitude 119° W. a school of
whales was discovered, and in pursuing them the mate's boat was stove,
which obliged him to return to the ship, when they commenced repairing
the damage. The captain and second mate were left with their boats
pursuing the whales. During this interval the mate discovered a large
spermaceti whale, near the ship, but, not suspecting the approach of any
danger, it gave them no alarm, until they saw the whale coming with full
speed towards them. In a moment they were astonished by a tremendous
crash. The whale had struck the ship a little forward of the fore
chains. It was some minutes before the crew recovered from their
astonishment, so far as to examine whether any damage had been
sustained. They then tried their pumps, and found that the ship was
sinking. A signal was immediately set for the boats. The whale now
appeared again making for the ship, and coming with great velocity, with
the water foaming around him, he struck the ship a second blow, which
nearly stove in her bows. There was now no hope of saving the ship, and
the only course to be pursued was, to prepare to leave her with all
possible haste. They collected a few things, hove them into the boat and
shoved off. The ship immediately fell upon one side and sunk to the
water's edge. When the captain's and second mate's boat arrived, such
was the consternation, that for some time not a word was spoken. The
danger of their situation at length aroused them, as from a terrific
dream, to a no less terrific reality. They remained by the wreck two or
three days, in which time they cut away the masts, which caused her to
right a little. Holes were then cut in the deck, by which means they
obtained about six hundred pounds of bread, and as much water as they
could take, besides other articles likely to be of use to them. On the
22d of November, they left the ship, with as gloomy a prospect before
them as can well be imagined. The nearest land was about one thousand
miles to the windward of them; they were in open boats, weak and leaky,
with a very small pittance of bread and water for support of so many
men, during the time they must necessarily be at sea. Sails had been
prepared for the boats, before leaving the ship, which proved of
material benefit. Steering southerly by the wind, they hoped to fall in
with some ship, but in this they were disappointed. After being in the
boat twenty-eight days, experiencing many sufferings by gales of wind,
want of water, and scanty provisions, they arrived at Duncie's Island,
latitude 24° 40' S., longitude 124° 40' W., where they were disappointed
in not finding a sufficiency of any kind of food for so large a company
to subsist on. Their boats being very weak and leaky, they were hauled
on shore and repaired. They found a gentle spring of fresh water,
flowing out of a rock, at about half ebb of the tide, from which they
filled their kegs. Three of the men chose to stay on the island, and
take their chance for some vessel to take them off.
On the 27th of December, they left this island, and steered for Easter
Island; but passed it far to the leeward. They then directed their
course for Juan Fernandez, which was about twenty-five hundred miles
east by south-east from them. On the 10th of January, 1821, Matthew P.
Joy, the second mate, died, and his body was launched into the deep. His
constitution was slender, and it was supposed that his sufferings,
though great, were not the immediate cause of his death. On the 12th,
the mate's boat separated from the other two, and did not fall in with
them afterwards. The situation of the mate and his crew, became daily
more and more distressing. The weather was mostly calm, the sun hot and
scorching. They were growing weaker and weaker by want of food, and yet,
such was their distance from land, that they were obliged to lessen
their allowance nearly one half. On the 20th, a black man died.
On the 28th, they found, on calculation, that their allowance, only one
and a half ounce of bread per day to a man, would be exhausted in
fourteen days; and that this allowance was not sufficient to sustain
life. They therefore determined to extend the indulgence, and take the
consequence, whether to live or die. On the 8th of February, another of
the crew died. From this time to the 17th, their sufferings were
extreme. At seven o'clock, A.M. of that day, they were aroused from a
lethargy by the cheering cry of the steersman, "there's a sail!" The
boat was soon descried by the vessel, the brig Indian, Captain Grozier,
of London, which took them on board, latitude 33° 45' S., longitude 81°
3' W. They were treated by Captain Grozier with all the care and
tenderness which their weak condition required. On the same day they
made Massafuero, and on the 25th, arrived at Valparaiso.
Captain Pollard and Charles Ramsdell, the only survivors in the
captain's boat, were taken up on the 23d of February, 1821, by the ship
Dauphin, of Nantucket, Captain Zimri Coffin, in latitude 37° S. off St.
Mary's. The captain relates, that, after the mate's boat was separated
from the others, they made what progress their weak condition would
permit, towards the island of Juan Fernandez, but contrary winds and
calm weather, together with the extreme debility of the crew, prevented
their making much progress.
On the 29th of January, the second mate's boat separated from the
captain's, in the night, at which time their provisions were totally
exhausted, since which they have not been heard from.
We shall not attempt a sketch of the sufferings of the crews of these
boats. Imagination may picture the horrors of their situation, and the
extremes to which they were driven to sustain life, but no power of the
imagination can heighten the dreadful reality.
The following is an account of the whole crew.
In the captain's boat but two survived, Captain Pollard and Charles
Ramsdell. In the mate's boat three survived, Owen Chase, the mate,
Benjamin Lawrence, and Thomas Nickerson. Left on Duncie's Island, and
afterwards taken off, Seth Weeks, William Wright, and Thomas Chapple.
One left the ship before the accident. In the second mate's boat, when
separated from the captain's, three. Dead, nine, which added to the
second mate's crew, doubtless lost, makes total deaths twelve.
LOSS OF THE WELLINGTON.
We sailed from the Cove of Cork for St. Andrews, on the 6th of October,
1833. During a passage of sixty days, all of which time we struggled
against adverse winds, nothing material occurred, save the shifting of
our ballast, (limestone,) which caused some alarm; but the promptitude
and alacrity of the crew soon set it all right. On reaching the
ballast-ground, we discharged our ballast; and after we had repaired the
rigging, we took in a cargo of deals. Here four of the men left us, and
we had to wait for others to supply their place.
On the 23d of December we sailed on our return to Cork; mustering in all
seventeen persons, including one male and one female passenger. With a
fine stiff breeze down the bay, we soon lost sight of land, and nothing
of note occurred till the 30th, when the wind got up from the
north-west, and soon blew so heavy a gale, that we were obliged to take
in every thing but a close-reefed main-topsail, under which we scudded
till the 5th of January. All this time it blew a hurricane, principally
from the north-west, but occasionally, after a short lull, flying round
to the south-west, with a fury that nothing could resist. The sea
threatened to overwhelm our little craft. It was several times proposed
to lay her to; but the fatal opinion prevailed that she did better in
scudding. On the night of the 6th, a tremendous sea struck her on the
stern, stove in all the dead-lights, and washed them into the cabin,
lifted the taffrail a foot or more out of its place, carried away the
afterpart of the larboard bulwark, shattered the whole of the
stern-frame, and washed one of the steersmen away from the wheel. The
carpenter and crew with much labor secured the stern as well as they
could for the night, and next morning the wind moderated a little, new
dead-lights were put in, and the damages further repaired.
Every stitch of canvas, but the main-topsail, jib, and trysail, were
split into ribbons, so that we became anxious to know how we should
reach port when the gale subsided. But we were soon spared further care
on that head. As the day closed in, the tempest resumed its fury, and by
the following morning, (the 8th,) raged with such appalling violence,
that we laid her too. From her straining, the brig had now began to make
so much water, as to require all hands in succession at the pumps till
the following morning at two, when the larboard watch went below, the
watch on deck, by constant exertion, sufficing to keep her free.
At seven on the morning of the 9th, a tremendous sea broke over the
starboard bow, overwhelming all, and sweeping caboose, boats, planks,
casks, every thing before it, to the afterpart of the deck; even the
starboard anchor was lifted on to the forecastle; and and the cook, who
was in the galley, washed with all his culinary apparatus into the
lee-scuppers, where he remained some time in a very perilous situation,
jammed in amongst the loose spars and other portions of the wreck, until
extricated by the watch on deck, who, being aft at the moment of the
occurrence, escaped unhurt. Before we could recover from this shock, the
watch below rushed on deck, with the appalling intelligence, that the
water had found its way below, and was pouring in like a torrent We
found that the coppers, forced along the deck with irresistible
violence, had, by striking a stanchen fixed firmly in the deck, split
the covering fore and aft, and let in the water. The captain thought it
time to prepare for the worst. As the ship, from her buoyant cargo,
could not sink, he ordered the crew to store the top with provisions.
And as all exerted themselves with the energy of despair, two barrels of
beef, some hams, pork, butter, cheese, and a large jar of brandy, were
handed in a trice up from below, but not before the water had nearly
filled the cabin, and forced those employed there to cease their
operations, and with the two unfortunate passengers to fly to the deck.
Fortunately for the latter, they knew not the full horror of our
situation. The poor lady, whose name I have forgotten, young and
delicate, already suffering from confinement below and sea sickness,
pale and shivering, but patient and resigned, had but a short time taken
her seat beside her fellow passenger on some planks near the taffrail,
on which lay extended the unfortunate cook, unable to move from his
bruises, when the vessel, a heavy lurch having shifted her cargo, was
laid on her beam-ends, and the water rushing in, carried every thing
off the deck--provisions, stores, planks, all went adrift--and with the
latter, the poor lady, who, with the cook, floated away on them, without
the possibility of our saving either of them. But such was the
indescribable horror of those who were left, that had we been able to
reason or reflect we might have envied our departed shipmates.
A few minutes before we went over, two of the crew, invalids, having
gone to the maintop, one of them was forced into the belly of the main
top-sail, and there found a watery grave. The rest of the crew, and the
male passenger, got upon her side. In this hopeless situation, secured,
and clinging to the channels and rigging, the sea every instant dashing
over us, and threatening destruction, we remained some hours. Then the
vessel once more righted, and we crawled on board. The deck having blown
up, and the stern gone the same way, we had now the prospect of
perishing with cold and hunger. For our ultimate preservation I conceive
we were mainly indebted to the carpenter's having providentially
retained his axe. With it, the foremast was cut away. While doing this,
we found a piece of pork about four pounds weight; and even the
possession of this morsel raised our drooping spirits. It would at least
prolong existence a few hours, and in that interval, the gale might
abate, some friendly sail heave in sight, and the elements relent. Such
were our reflections. Oh, how our eye-balls strained, as, emerging from
the trough of the sea on the crest of a liquid mountain, we gazed on the
misty horizon, until, from time to time, we fancied, nay, felt assured,
we saw the object of our search, but the evening closed in, and with it
hope almost expired. That day, not a morsel passed our lips. The pork,
our only supply, given in charge to the captain, it was thought prudent
to husband as long as possible.
Meanwhile, with a top-gallant studding-sail remaining in the top, which
was stretched over the mast-head, we contrived to procure a partial
shelter from the inclemency of the weather. Under this, drenched as we
were and shivering with cold, some of us crouched for the night; but
others of the crew remained all that night in the rigging. In the
morning we all--fourteen in number--mustered on deck, and received from
the mate a small piece of pork, about two ounces, the remainder being
put away, and reserved for the next day. This, and some water, the only
article of which--a cask had been discovered forward, well stowed away
among the planks--we had abundance, constituted our only meal that day.
Somewhat refreshed, we all went to work, and as the studding-sail
afforded but a scanty shelter, we fitted the trysail for this purpose;
on opening which we found the cat drowned, and much as our stomachs
might have revolted against such food on ordinary occasions, yet poor
puss was instantly skinned and her carcass hung up in the maintop.
This night we were somewhat better lodged, and the following day, having
received our scanty ration of pork, now nearly consumed, we got three
swiftsures round the hull of the vessel, to prevent her from going to
pieces. Foraging daily for food, we sought incessantly in every
crevice, hole, and corner, but in vain. We were now approaching that
state of suffering beyond which nature cannot carry us. With some,
indeed, they were already past endurance; and one individual, who had
left a wife and family dependent upon him for support in London, unable
any longer to bear up against them, and the almost certain prospect of
starvation, went down out of the top, and we saw him no more. Having
eked out the pork until the fourth day, we commenced on the
cat--fortunately large and in good condition--a mouthful of which, with
some water, furnished our daily allowance.
Sickness and debility had now made such ravages among us all, that
although we had a tolerable stock of water, we found great difficulty in
procuring it. We had hitherto, in rotation, taken our turn to fill a
small beaker at the cask, wedged in among the cargo of deals; but now,
scarcely able to keep our feet along the planks, and still less so to
haul the vessel up to the top, we were in danger of even this resource
being cut off from us. In this manner, incredible as it may seem, we
managed to keep body and soul together till the eleventh day; our only
sustenance, the pork, the cat, water, and the bark of some young birch
trees, which latter, in searching for a keg of tamarinds, which we had
hoped to find, we had latterly come athwart.
On the twelfth morning, at daybreak, the hailing of some one from the
deck electrified us all. Supposing, as we had missed none of our
shipmates from the top, that it must be some boat or vessel, we all
eagerly made a movement to answer our supposed deliverers, and such was
our excitement that it well nigh upset what little reason we had left.
We soon found out our mistake. We saw that one of the party was missing;
and from this individual, whom we had found without shoes, hat, or
jacket, had the voice proceeded.
Despair had now taken such complete hold, that, suspended between life
and death, a torpor had seized us, and, resigned to our fate, we had
scarcely sufficient energy to lift our heads, and exercise the only
faculty on which depended our safety. The delirium of our unfortunate
shipmate had, however, reanimated us, and by this means, through
Providence, he was made instrumental to our deliverance. Not long after,
one of the men suddenly exclaimed, "This is Sunday morning!--The Lord
will deliver us from our distress!--at any rate I will take a look
round." With this he arose, and having looked about him a few minutes,
the cheering cry of "a sail!" announced the fulfilment of this singular
prophecy. "Yes," he repeated in answer to our doubts, "a sail, and
bearing right down upon us!"
We all eagerly got up, and looking in the direction indicated to us, the
welcome certainty, that we were not cheated of our hopes almost turned
our brains. The vessel, which proved to be a Boston brig, bound to
London, ran down across our bows, hove too, sent the boats alongside,
and by ten o'clock we were all safe on board. Singularly enough, our
brig, which had been lying-to with her head to the northward and
westward, since the commencement of our disasters, went about the
evening previous to our quitting her as well as if she had been under
sail,--another providential occurrence, for had she remained with her
head to the northward, we should have seen nothing of our deliverers.
From the latter we experienced all the care and attention our deplorable
condition required; and, with the exception of two of the party, who
were frost-bitten, and who died two days after our quitting the wreck,
we were soon restored to health, and reached St. Catherine's Dock on the
30th of the following month.
[Illustration: VOYAGE OF THE ABERGAVENNY.]
LOSS OF THE ABERGAVENNY.
The Earl of Abergavenny, East Indiaman, left Portsmouth, in the
beginning of February, 1805, with forty passengers, and property to the
value of eighty-nine thousand pounds sterling on board. On the 5th of
February, at ten A.M. when she was about ten leagues to the westward of
Portland, the commodore gave a signal for her to bear up. At this time
the wind was west south-west; she had the main top-mast struck, the fore
and mizzen top-gallant mast on deck, and the jib-boom in. At three a
pilot came on board, when they were about two leagues west from
Portland; the cables were ranged and bitted, and the jib-boom got out.
The wind suddenly died away as she crossed the Shangles, a shoal of rock
and shingle, about two miles from the land; and a strong tide setting
the ship to westward, drifted her into the breakers. A sea taking her on
the larboard quarter brought her to, with her head to the northward,
when she instantly struck the ground, at five in afternoon. All the
reefs were let out, and the top-sails hoisted up, in the hope that the
ship might shoot across the reef; the wind shifting meanwhile to
north-west, she remained there two hours and a half, with four feet of
water in the hold, the tide alternately setting her on, and the surf
driving her back, beating all the while with such violent shocks, that
the men for some time could scarcely stand upon the decks. At length,
however, she was got off the rocks.
The pumps were kept constantly going, and for fifteen minutes after
clearing the rocks, kept the water at four feet; but the leak gaining
upon them, all sails were set, with the view of running for the nearest
port. But the water now rose so fast, than she refused to answer the
helm, and they resolved to run her on the first shore. The captain and
officers still thought that she might be got off without material
damage, and no signal guns of distress were fired for three quarters of
an hour, though sensible of some danger, they kept silent, lest they
should alarm the passengers. Soon however the peril appeared but too
manifest; the carpenter announced that a leak was at the bottom of the
chain-pumps, through which the water gushed so fast, that they could not
stop it. Eleven feet of water were already in the hold, and the crew
were set to bale at the fore scuttle and hatchway. Though they could not
keep the water under, they still hoped to preserve her afloat, till she
could be run upon Weymouth sand. The lashings of the boats were cut;
but they could not get out the long-boat, without bending the mainsail
aback, which would have retarded the vessel so much, as to deprive them
of the chance of running her aground.
At six in the afternoon they gave up all hope of saving the vessel;
other leaks had been sprung, and it became manifest, from the damage she
had sustained that she must speedily go down. The captain and officers
were still cool, and preserved perfect subordination. As night came on,
and their situation became more terrible, several passengers insisted on
being set on shore; and some small sloops being near, one of which sent
off a skiff, two ladies, and three other passengers went away in her.
More would have embarked had they not feared to encounter a tempestuous
sea in so dark a night.
Several boats were heard at a short distance, about nine o'clock, but
they rendered no assistance; being either engaged in plunder, or in
rescuing some of those unfortunate individuals who hazarded themselves
on pieces of wreck, to gain the land. Those on board baled and pumped
without intermission; the cadets and passengers struggling with the
rest. A midshipman was appointed to guard the spirit room. Some of the
more disorderly sailors pressed upon him. "Give us some grog," they
cried, "it will be all one an hour hence." "I know we must die," replied
he, coolly, "but let us die like men;" and armed with a brace of
pistols, he kept his post even while the ship was sinking.