Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849 Part 17

THE DaeDALUS.

His Majesty's ship Daedalus, of 38 guns, Captain Murray Maxwell, sailed from Spithead on the 27th of January, 1813, in charge of an East Indian convoy, and made the island of Ceylon, near the Pointe de Galle, on the 1st of July. She pa.s.sed Dondra Head at sunset, and then steered east by north during the night, in order to pa.s.s well outside the Ba.s.ses. In the morning, the ship's head was pointed to the north, to get near land, a good look-out being kept both from the deck and mast-head for rocks and breakers. The atmosphere was so clear that a ripple might have been seen upon the water for miles around. Nothing appeared to indicate danger; the vessel was supposed to be seven or eight miles off the land, and the master was pointing out to Captain Maxwell her position upon the chart, when they felt her take the ground abaft; but so very easily, that many people on board were not aware that she had touched. Signals were immediately made to warn the convoy of their danger, but before the signals could be answered, the Daedalus swung off into deep water. All sail was set, and strong hopes were entertained that she was not materially injured; but her frame was too slight to sustain any shock whatever without damage, the lower part of the stern-post had given way, occasioning a leak of such magnitude, that although the pumps were instantly manned; and worked with unceasing energy, the water could not be kept under. A signal was made for the convoy to bring to, and to send all their carpenters on board the Daedalus, which was immediately done, but the combined efforts of the whole were unavailing to reduce the leak. The rudder worked so much that it was found necessary to unship it from the broken part of the stern-post, and bring it alongside; and in order to relieve the ship from the pressure aft, the guns and other heavy things were carried forward; this, however, was of so little avail, that the guns and anchors were soon thrown overboard. They then prepared a sail with oak.u.m and tar, and got it over the stern, in order, by pa.s.sing it under the keel, to stop the leak. For a time this seemed to have the desired effect, and hopes were entertained that they might be able to carry the ship to Trincomalee; but these hopes were of short duration. In spite of the indefatigable exertions of every officer and man on board, the water gained upon them till it rose two feet above the orlop-deck. The men had now been working without intermission for eight hours, and their strength and spirits began to fail, when, notwithstanding all their efforts, they saw the water rising to the level of the lower deck.

Captain Maxwell now knew that there was not a chance of saving his ship, and he felt the painful necessity of leaving her as soon as possible, in order to preserve the lives of his men, whilst there was yet time. He ordered the boys, idlers, and two divisions of seamen and marines to get into the boats which were alongside, while the remaining men were employed at the pumps to keep the ship afloat, The good order and discipline which prevailed during this scene are beyond all praise. 'The men behaved,' to use the words of the captain, 'as if they were moving from one ship to another in any of the king's ports.'

Such conduct is highly creditable, not only to the ship's company, but likewise to the captain and officers, in whom the crew must have reposed most perfect confidence, or such real good order could not have been maintained at such a time.

The ship was settling fast, when the boats returned to carry away the remainder of the officers and men, they left the pumps and embarked in the boats, taking with them the hammocks and clothes belonging to the ship's company. The last man who stood upon the deck of the sinking ship was her captain. When all others had gone, he too with a heavy heart stepped into the boat which bore him from her side; sadly and sorrowfully he fixed his gaze upon the wreck of 'his home on the waters.' In a few minutes the ship gave a lurch, and, falling on her beam ends, remained in that position for the s.p.a.ce of a minute, then she righted, showing only her quarter-deck ports above water, and then gently and majestically sunk into the bosom of the deep blue sea.

THE PERSIAN.

The Persian, an 18-gun brig, commanded by Captain Charles Bertram, was lost on the Silver Keys, St. Domingo, in the West Indies, on the 26th of June, 1813. It appears from Captain Bertram's statement, that the Keys were laid down on the chart too far to the southward, or that the ship was carried in that direction by a strong current not mentioned in any of the charts. The Persian struck about five o'clock P.M., by running stem on, upon one of the rocks; she was at the time going at the rate of three or four knots an hour. Everything was done to back her off; the water was started, most of the guns thrown overboard, the boats were got out, and the anchors cut from the bows. These measures for the moment seemed to have the desired effect; but in paying off, she struck on another rock, and from this it was impossible to move her. Again the same means were resorted to; the remainder of the guns, spars, &c, were thrown overboard, but to no purpose. The pumps had been kept in active play from the first moment of alarm, but the water gained on them so fast, there was little hope of the vessel keeping afloat till daylight. The Captain, therefore, resolved to prepare for the worst, and he directed a large raft to be made for the safety of some of the ship's company. About seven o'clock, two hours after she first struck, Captain Bertram perceived that she was gradually sinking; he therefore ordered as many of the ship's company as the boats would hold, to get into the two cutters and the jolly-boat; the cutters were placed under the command of Mr. Norris, the second lieutenant, and Mr. Nicholls, the master; and the jolly-boat under the superintendence of the gunner. These boats were ordered to remain near the ship, in case anything should occur to render it necessary for the people to return on board.

About half-past nine P.M., Lieutenant Price and the rest of the ship's company, excepting two or three who remained on board with the captain, took their places upon the raft, which was veered by a hawser to leeward of the brig, and directed to remain in that position until the morning. At two o'clock in the morning Captain Bertram, convinced that there was no hope of saving his ship, got into his gig with the men who had stayed with him, and he had scarcely left the side of the Persian ere she slipped off the rock, fell over on the larboard side, and sunk into about seven fathoms water, the tops of the masts only being visible above the waves.

At daylight, Captain Bertram, with the other boats, bore up for the raft, which had broken from the hawser during the night and drifted to some distance. They found her and her crew in a very deplorable state,--the lashings had been cut through by the rocks, and many of the timbers were broken, so that they scarcely held together, and the men had had great difficulty in keeping her from being dashed to pieces against the rocks, and in preserving themselves from being carried away by the surf which washed over them continually.

Here was a great difficulty to be overcome; the raft was evidently so insecure that it could not be depended upon for an hour, and the only means of saving the men was by distributing them amongst the boats, which were already so over-crowded, that it would be imminently perilous to add to their freight. However, Captain Bertram did not hesitate to brave the danger, but set the example by first taking four men from the raft into his own gig, and directing the other boats to receive the rest amongst them in their relative proportions. His commands were instantly and cheerfully obeyed, but to carry them into effect the boats' crews were obliged to throw overboard the few articles of clothing they had saved, and the greater part of the provisions, in order to enable the boats to bear the additional weight.

It was now between five and six o'clock in the morning; the wind was blowing fresh from the east; the nearest part of St. Domingo was, as far as they could judge, about twenty-five leagues distant, to reach which they supposed they must go through the Mona pa.s.sage, the most dangerous in the West Indies.

One of the cutters had forty-five men on board, the other forty-two, the jolly-boat twenty-two, and the gig fourteen; in all, a hundred and twenty-three persons. The wind increased as the day advanced, and became so violent that it seemed almost by a miracle that the boats were enabled to resist the fury of the storm. In the afternoon the danger increased, and the men were obliged to heave overboard the remainder of their bread and water, and never for an instant could they relax in their efforts to keep the boats free from water. G.o.d in His mercy preserved those who had shown such trust in Him; for we can scarcely suppose that such n.o.ble acts of humanity, courage, and self-sacrifice as were evinced by these men could arise from other than the highest and holiest principles.

Before the evening closed in, they caught a glimpse of the land, but too distant for them to make out what part of the coast it was. The boats were hove to for the night, and a dreary night it was to these poor men. They were without food, almost without clothing, weak from want of nourishment, and exhausted by fatigue; and in this miserable state they awaited the break of day, the rain falling in torrents, and the sea breaking over the boats.

On the morning of the 28th, they again made sail, and landed the same evening in a small cove of a bay between Vieux Cap Francois and Cap Cabron. Here, to their bitter disappointment, they could get nothing to eat--not even a spring of fresh water could be found,--and all the nourishment they had that night was a few limpets, and the rain water that had remained in the holes of the rocks,--sorry fare for men who had been exposed to the inclemency of the weather for two days and two nights, in open boats, without food.

However, it was a great thing to be on sh.o.r.e; for many of the people had suffered severely from being so closely stowed in the bottom of the boats, and their limbs had been terribly cramped. They now wisely endeavoured to make themselves as comfortable as circ.u.mstances allowed, by lighting a fire to keep off the insects, and to dry their clothes, and then they composed themselves to sleep, which they much needed. The next morning, being somewhat refreshed, they started across the bay to a place called Margante, which they reached about eight o'clock. Here they found the people well disposed towards them, and they were able to purchase some beef and plantains, and plenty of good water, of which they all gladly partook. The inhabitants informed them that it was probable they might find a vessel at Port Plata that could take them to St. Thomas's, that being the nearest port where they were likely to fall in with any of His Majesty's ships. On the 30th of June, they departed from Margante, taking with them a pilot, to guide them to Port Plata. In order to ease the boats, Captain Bertram and part of the ship's company walked along the sh.o.r.e. Towards evening, the people had gone upwards of twenty miles, and were so exhausted, they were obliged to put into a small bay called Scott's Bay (B. Ecossaise), where they came on sh.o.r.e and erected a tent, with the sails of the boats and a few logs of mahogany. With the help of some turtle, the whole of the ship's company were supplied with food; and they remained on sh.o.r.e till the next morning, when the boats were again launched, and all the party embarked in them, as there was no way along the beech. They arrived safely at Port Plata at eleven o'clock that night, and were received with great kindness and humanity. Three houses were provided for the men and one for the officers, and everything was done that could alleviate their sufferings. Unfortunately there was no vessel at Port Plata large enough to convey them to St. Thomas's. With some difficulty, a boat was procured, in which Lieutenant Price was despatched to Turk's Island, with a letter to the naval officer there, describing the situation of the crew of the Persian, and requesting that a.s.sistance might be afforded to Lieutenant Price to enable him to hire a vessel to take the crew to St. Thomas's.

Lieutenant Price made a successful voyage, and returned to Port Plata on the 10th of July, with the government schooner Swift, and a hired sloop. Three days were spent in fitting out these vessels with the necessary stores, and on the evening of the 13th, the ship's company, to the number of 112, embarked in them, and arrived at St. Thomas's on the 22nd. The crew was by this time in a very sickly state; the crowded state of the ships had engendered a complaint of which the surgeon died an hour after they cast anchor; and there is little doubt that had they been forty-eight hours longer on their pa.s.sage, many others would have fallen victims to the same disease. At St. Thomas's, the sufferers received the care and attention they required, and were sent home to England.

We cannot conclude this account without quoting the following pa.s.sage from the narrative of Captain Bertram:--'I most justly attribute the preservation of the ship's company to very great coolness and persevering exertions of both officers and men, in keeping the boats free from the water they shipped, and their great attention in steering before the sea. I am happy to say that every man behaved with a regularity that is seldom found on similar occasions: in fact, when the little clothing the people had saved, and the remaining bread and water, were from necessity ordered to be thrown overboard, there was not a murmur,--they vied with each other who should obey the order first.'

In the year 1808, Captain Bertram, then a lieutenant, was appointed to the Emerald, a 36-gun frigate, commanded by Captain the Honourable Frederick Maitland. On the 13th of March, they were off the harbour of Vivero, when a large French schooner was discovered at anchor, under the protection of the batteries. Captain Maitland determined to attempt to capture or destroy her, and accordingly he stood in for the harbour at about five o'clock in the evening. The first fort, which mounted eight 24-pounders, opened on the ship, as did also another fort about a mile higher up, as soon as the frigate came within range.

As it was impossible to place the ship in a position to act upon both batteries, Captain Maitland ordered Lieutenant Bertram, with a party of marines and seamen, to storm the outer fort, whilst he took the ship as near the inner fort as the water would allow. Mr. Bertram succeeded in driving the enemy from the battery, and spiking the guns; he then made the best of his way by the sh.o.r.e to take possession of the schooner, which had been run upon the rocks. He was joined by Mr.

Baird, a midshipman, who had been sent with a party for the same purpose. On the road they were met by a part of the schooner's crew, consisting of about sixty men. These were speedily a.s.sailed by the two young officers and their men, and put to flight. Lieutenant Bertram then advanced towards the schooner, which proved to be L'Apropos, of twelve 8-pounder carronades, and he persevered for several hours in his attempts to get her afloat, under a galling fire of musketry from the sh.o.r.e. All his efforts, however, were of no avail, as she had gone on sh.o.r.e at high water; it therefore became necessary to set her on fire, which was done; and the lieutenant returned with his party to the Emerald.

In this gallant exploit, nine men belonging to the Emerald were killed, and Lieutenant Bertram and several others wounded.

Captain Bertram, has lately accepted the rank of Retired Rear-Admiral.

THE PENELOPE.

We have now to relate the painful statement of a wreck, which was not only one of the most disastrous, but the most disgraceful in its consequences, of any that we have had to describe.

Unfortunately, the loss of the ship is not the darkest side of the picture; and the insubordination of the crew of the Penelope in the hour of danger was as fatal to themselves as it was rare in its occurrence.

The Penelope, troop-ship, Commander James Galloway, sailed from Spithead for Canada on the 31st of March, 1815, and had a favourable pa.s.sage to the Banks of Newfoundland. Here she fell in with large ma.s.ses of ice, fogs, and strong south-east winds, so that the captain considered it unsafe to run in for the land until the weather cleared up. On the 24th of April, they made the Island of Mequilon, and at the same time encountered a very heavy gale from the north-west. On the following day they were surrounded with ice, and were frozen up for nearly twelve hours. When the ice gave way, all sail was set, and the ship entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and for the next few days she continued her course in a north-easterly direction, and pa.s.sed between the Islands of Brion and Magdalen. The frost during this time was so severe, that the furled sails were frozen into a solid body.

On the 29th, they met with large quant.i.ties of field ice, which gave the sea the appearance of one entire sheet of ice, but it was not strong enough to stop the ship's way. In the afternoon of that day, the land about Cape Rozier, on the coast of Lower Canada, was visible.

On the 30th, the weather was more moderate, though cloudy; at noon they steered an eastward course, until the ship broke off about three points, when at sunset they tacked, and stood in for the land, which was set by the first lieutenant and the master, at three or four leagues distance.

At eight o'clock, they sounded in seventy-one fathoms; the vessel broke off to the west by north, and the captain ordered the master to go round the ship, and caution the men forward to keep a good look out,--at the same time desiring him on no account to leave the deck.

The captain then sent for the first-lieutenant into his cabin, and was in the act of pointing out to him the supposed situation of the vessel on the chart; the line was at the same moment pa.s.sing forward for another cast of the lead, when the ship took the ground.

'I cannot describe my feelings,' writes Captain Galloway, 'at that moment; for having, for a long time, been almost deprived of my eyesight by night, and also afflicted with rheumatic pains and other complaints, I was unable to judge correctly of the extent of our danger.' The helm was immediately put down, and the sails thrown aback. One boat was then hoisted out to sound, and found two and a half fathoms forward, and about three and a half fathoms aft, having six fathoms a little on the starboard quarter.

All the boats were immediately lowered, and the stream-anchor and cable, with part of the messenger bent on to it, stowed in the pinnace, which, from the strength of the current, was with great difficulty towed to leeward by the other boats, and dropped into five and a-half fathoms water.

On heaving round, the anchor came home, which it continued to do until more than half of the cable was run in, when it held fast, but without altering the position of the vessel. The captain then gave orders to heave overboard the guns, and cut away the anchors from the bows; but all these attempts to lighten the vessel were of no avail. The wind, which had been moderate when she first struck, had increased to a gale, and the ship beat with such violence upon the rocks, that it appeared impossible that she could hold together many hours.

In this condition they were obliged to remain until daylight, exposed to a cold north-east wind, and a pitiless storm of sleet and snow. The officers did all in their power to sustain the courage of the men, but unfortunately in many instances without success. Already symptoms of insubordination had exhibited themselves, several had skulked below to their hammocks, where they remained in defiance of every command and entreaty of their officers.

The topmasts were got over side to sh.o.r.e the ship up, but the motion was so violent that the lashings gave way. At daylight, as the weather did not moderate, and there was no prospect of saving the ship, orders were given to get up the provisions. This, however, had been delayed until it was too late; the water had risen over the orlop deck, and in a short time gained the lower deck. All that was saved was thirty bags of biscuits, and these so damaged by the salt water, that they were totally unfit for use.

The masts were about this time cut away, in order to ease the ship as much as possible; they fell towards the sh.o.r.e about a cable's length from the beach. The master was sent in the cutter to try to fasten a rope to the sh.o.r.e, but the surf ran so high that the boat was stove, and the crew with difficulty gained the beach.

In this condition, with very little prospect of saving the lives of the crew, the captain, anxious for the preservation of the public dispatches, entrusted them to the purser, who, with Captain Moray (aide-de-camp to Lieut. General Sir George Murray), in charge of the military dispatches, embarked in the life-boat, to which a small line was attached. They had, however, no better success than the other boat, for as soon as they reached the surf, the boat capsized, and the two officers swam to the sh.o.r.e with the dispatches tied round their necks.

Another cutter was then sent off in hopes that she would be more successful, but she filled almost immediately; and the rope which was fastened to her was obliged to be abandoned.

By this time it was impossible to stand upon the deck, the sea made a fair breach over the ship, and the water having rushed into the cabin, the few bags of bread that had been stowed there for protection were destroyed.

The captain being unable from ill health to make any great exertion to save his life, was lowered into the pinnace, into which were already crowded as many men as she could hold, and they took another rope on board, to make a last attempt to form a communication with the sh.o.r.e.

The boat had scarcely left the side of the ship before a sea struck and upset her. The captain, supported by two men, made his way through the surf with great difficulty and got on sh.o.r.e, followed by the rest of the boat's crew, who, some by swimming and others by help of oars and spars, saved themselves from destruction. The gig was now the only boat left on board; she was lowered from the stern, and the first and second lieutenants, with eighteen men, jumped into her. They were all fortunate enough to reach the sh.o.r.e, and some of the men gallantly returned to the vessel, and succeeded in landing about twenty others.

Again, the gig repaired to the wreck, and took off some more of the crew, but this time she was unfortunately upset in the surf, though no lives were lost.

When the men left on the wreck saw themselves thus deprived of the last chance of escape, they raised the most piteous cries for a.s.sistance, although they knew that their comrades had no means of affording it. It has been said that 'man is a bundle of inconsistencies,' and here was a proof of the a.s.sertion. These were in all probability the very men who had betaken themselves to their hammocks a short time before, and had refused to a.s.sist in providing for their own safety; they had disobeyed orders, and despised discipline, and now we find them imploring others for that deliverance which they had neglected to provide for themselves. Most of them had been drinking the spirits, and were so stupified that they were incapable of taking advantage of the floating spars and planks to which they might have clung, and so gained the land.

By drunkenness the bed of the ocean has been rendered a foul and gloomy charnel house, where the bones of thousands of our fellow-men await the summons of the Archangel's trumpets, when 'the sea shall give up her dead.' The reckless seamen, though unprepared for another world, hurry themselves into the presence of their Judge, to meet the drunkard's doom.

It has been related that upon one occasion, when the shipwreck of a large packet seemed inevitable, the sailors grew tired of working at the pumps, and shouted 'to the spirit-room!' They saw death staring them in the face, and to drown their terror for the moment, they desired to die drunk. A post-captain in the navy, who was on board the packet, knowing what would be the result if they got at the spirits, took his stand at the door of the spirit-room, with a pistol in each hand, and declared in the most solemn manner, that he would shoot the first man who attempted to enter. The men seeing themselves defeated, returned to the pumps, and by the blessing of G.o.d, the vessel was brought in safe with all her crew.[15]

Unfortunate as was the situation of the helpless creatures on the wreck of the Penelope, it was only a few degrees more wretched than that of the officers and men on the sh.o.r.e. They had been cast at the base of a steep mountain, bruised and benumbed by the cold; their clothes were actually freezing on their backs, and they were without provisions of any kind. Their first care was to search for wood and kindle fires, which they at last succeeded in doing, and then they dried their clothes--but before they could derive any benefit from the fire, the intensity of cold had caused many of them extreme suffering; they were frost-bitten in the hands and feet, and several lost their toes. Some of the people were employed in constructing a tent with branches of trees and blankets, others were searching for provisions and securing such articles as were washed on sh.o.r.e from the ship. In the evening, they found about sixty pieces of pork,--and with this and some melted snow they satisfied the cravings of hunger and thirst.

Later in the evening several casks of wine, which had been stowed in the ward-room, were washed on sh.o.r.e; but this, which might have proved a blessing to all, was seized by a party of the men,--who broke open the casks and drank to such an excess that they fell asleep, and were found almost frozen to death. During the whole of the day the unhappy men upon the wreck had never ceased supplicating their more fortunate comrades to go to their a.s.sistance, but this was impossible; no human effort could save them. As night drew on, their cries were redoubled, and were still heard far above the howling and roaring of the tempest, when darkness had hidden the ill-fated vessel from view.

About twelve o'clock three fearful crashes were followed by a still more fearful sound--the last agonized shriek of many perishing creatures.

And then all was hushed, Save the wild and remorseless dash Of billows. BYRON.