The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism Volume II Part 21

Above, on deck, all was horror, confusion, and despair, among the pa.s.sengers and crew. The flames, having broken out abaft the foremast, rapidly extended across the whole breadth of the ship, forming a wall of fire as high as the paddle-boxes, cutting off all communication. One or two of the sailors, indeed, managed to get across the paddle-boxes, cautiously creeping up one side and sliding down the other, but all other means of access were effectually debarred. It was the sole chance of safety, for the boats were all in the after part of the ship. "It would be needless here to tell of the screams and shrieks of the horror-stricken pa.s.sengers, mixed with the cries of the animals aboard; of the wild anguish with which they saw before them only the choice of death almost equally dreadful-the raging flame or the raging sea, and of those fearful moments when all self-control, all presence of mind, appeared to be lost, and no authority was recognised, no command obeyed." Meanwhile the ominous fire-bell was ringing-the knell of many a poor man and woman that night.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BURNING OF THE "AMAZON."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "AMAZON" STEAM-SHIP.]

When Captain Symons rushed on deck, his first order was to "put up the helm," which was instantly obeyed. The helmsman, a.s.sisted by Mr. Treweeke, the gallant second officer, worked at the wheel till the vessel "paid off"

and turned so as to go before the wind. The effects of the wind were, by this device, somewhat moderated, but it had almost advanced to a gale, and the paddles were revolving rapidly, carrying the doomed vessel through the water with headlong speed. The flames were driven, however, forward and away from the pa.s.sengers and greater number of those on board. To this movement, in fact, is to be attributed the preservation of the few boats which, as we shall see, succeeded in leaving the ship. To extinguish the fire was now out of question; while it was equally impossible to shut off the steam and stop the vessel's way. Yet, without this being done, no boat could be launched into the water while the vessel was driving on at the rate of thirteen knots an hour. Buckets of water were still thrown on the burning ma.s.s; trusses of lighted hay and loose spars thrown overboard.

"Keep fast the boats for a while, and try to save the ship!" cried the captain. But, alas! ship and crew were alike doomed. "Don't lower the boats!" repeated Captain Symons again and again; and the danger-at the rate of the _Amazon's_ speed-of attempting it was too obvious. Lieut.

Grylls, R.N., a pa.s.senger on board, was attempting to lower the tackle of one of the boats, when Symons "seized him by the arm, and besought him to desist, as he said everybody would be drowned. Lieut. Grylls then called out to the person by the foremast fall, imploring him not to lower, as the ship was going so fast. The person at the foremast fall, by constant and urgent request of the people in the boat, let the fall go, by which means the boat turned over, and, as nearly as could be seen, every one was washed out of her. Seeing this at the moment, Lieut. Grylls attempted to let go the after fall so as to save them, but the fall being jammed, and having fouled, and the boat thus not being clear, her stern hung in the air for a moment, until cut adrift by some one, when she turned over, and, seeing the people washed away, Lieutenant Grylls turned away from the appalling sight in horror. He then met, face to face, Captain Symons, who called out for some one to help him to clear away the port life-boat, which was stowed on the sponson, abaft the port paddle-box, and at the same moment leaped into the boat, using every endeavour to clear her away.

Lieut. Grylls followed, and also exerted himself, but the flames having reached the boat, and Captain Symons's hair having caught in a blaze, and one sleeve of his shirt, he was obliged to run off, and Lieut. Grylls was compelled to follow him, both rushing through the flames and fire."

About this time it was discovered that the ship was veering round, owing to the helm having been lashed. A fresh order was shrieked out to keep her before the wind, and two of the officers sprang forward to execute the captain's bidding. The pa.s.sengers were now all on deck, with what feelings we can imagine. "At last the shout was raised, 'Every man for himself!'

but not by the captain. The captain called out, 'Lower the starboard life-boat!' to which the answer was, 'She is on fire!' 'Lower the larboard (port, or left-hand) life-boat!' 'She is on fire!' was still the cry. The captain dropped the bucket which he idly held in his hand. 'It's all over with us!'" But though he knew it so well, he did not relax an effort; nor did Mr. Roberts, the chief officer, nor any of the officers, all of whom went down with the ship. They were last seen collected in a group near the helm; and to the close of that appalling scene n.o.bly did their duty. The last words the captain was heard to say were, "It has got too far." He then turned aft, took the wheel, and that appears to have been the last that was seen of Captain Symons.

When it was discovered that the two life-boats were on fire, attention could only be given to the other boats. All efforts must be made: better to drown than to die in the midst of flames-suffocated, scorched. "One of the pa.s.sengers, Mr. Alleyne, of the West Indies, was observed pacing the deck, with his hands clasped in prayer, patiently waiting that awful fate from which he knew there was no escape. A gentleman and lady, in their night-dresses only-both of which were on fire-came on deck, and, with their arms round each other, walked over to one of the ship's hatches, and fell together into the flames. They had previously been seen standing right abaft and looking perfectly collected, the gentleman before the lady, apparently to keep the heat from her. A female pa.s.senger rushed on deck, having on only her night-gown, the bottom of which and her legs were much burnt. Three times she was placed in one of the boats which was saved, but she refused to remain. Several persons hurriedly said to her that they would soon give her plenty of clothing when she got away from the ship, but modesty prevailed over the love of life, and she remained behind to perish."

A horrible story of one standing near the helm is given: his face and side burnt, and a huge blister formed, which burst in; the skin was falling away in ribbons. A little boy was also burnt black, and the skin was falling from him in a similar manner. Still the vessel was dashing forward in headlong speed, but still efforts were made to launch the boats; but here, in consequence of the manner in which they were stowed-resting on iron crutches or brackets, instead of being simply suspended, as usual-unexpected difficulties presented themselves. It was necessary first to raise them, put them over the bulwarks, and lower them-a work of time and labour. In the hurry two of the boats were stove in; and in the case of others, one end would be lowered properly, the other remaining high in the air, so that the wretched pa.s.sengers and sailors who crowded into them were plunged violently into the water, escaping the fury of one element only to be devoured by another. In one single case fifteen were thus drowned, while one only escaped. Not to acc.u.mulate the details of horrors, which constantly repeated themselves, it may be here stated that the whole number of persons on board the _Amazon_ when she left Southampton was 162; of these 110 formed the crew; there were 50 pa.s.sengers, and the mail agent and his servant. The first boat which landed at Plymouth brought in 21; the _Gertruida_, a Dutch galliot, picked up a boat containing 16 on Sunday night, and another containing 8 on the following morning. Another vessel, also a Dutch galliot, picked up 13 more. The total number lost amounted, therefore, to 104, and 58 only were saved.

A survivor stated that during the time they were drifting in their boat towards the ship, which was burning broadside on to the wind, her mainmast went first, the foremast following; it was a considerable time before the mizen-mast fell, directly after which he noted a slight explosion of gunpowder. Previous to this a barque hove in sight, and pa.s.sed between their boat and the burning ship. They judged her to be outward-bound from her being under close-reefed topsails. As she pa.s.sed at between three and four hundred yards they hailed her several times with their united voices, strengthened by all the energy of despair. She answered them, and brailed her spanker, and they naturally thought she was preparing to bear up for their rescue. "I shall never forget," said the narrator, "the deep sob of hope with which I noticed these preparations, or the bitterness of feeling with which I saw him spread his canvas to the wind, and wear round past the stern of the burning vessel, as he left us to our fate."

Among those who perished on that terrible night was a distinguished author, whose writings are, or should be, familiar to all readers.

Warburton(90) perished either in the flames or, as some thought, in one of the boats which was swamped. He had been sent out by the Atlantic and Pacific Junction Company, specially deputed to make a friendly arrangement with the Indians of the isthmus of Darien. As an old and practised traveller, he had proposed to stay on the isthmus for some time, in order to study its topography, scenery, climate, and resources. The Rev. Acton Warburton, his brother, on receipt of the fearful news, and with the fact before him that there were boats not yet accounted for which had been seen to leave the ship, proceeded in a steamer from Plymouth on January 17th, in the hope that, by cruising about in the Channel and entrance to the Bay of Biscay, some traces might be found of his missing relative. All was in vain; no further vestiges of the crew or pa.s.sengers were found. A few days afterwards a homeward-bound vessel picked up at sea, among other fragments of the wreck, three settees, or backed forms, which had stood on the deck of the _Amazon_, and which had been lashed together, doubtless for the purpose of supporting some of the crew or pa.s.sengers in the water. Other pieces of the wreck were washed ash.o.r.e on different parts of the coast, and a piece of burnt timber was picked up near the Eddystone, having attached to it a fragment of a lady's dress. One of the mail bags, containing newspapers, unscorched, but very much damaged by sea-water, was washed ash.o.r.e near Bridport three weeks after the occurrence of the wreck.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RESCUE OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE "AMAZON."]

The Rev. William Blood, who was one of the survivors, was landed at Plymouth in one of the boats late on Thursday night, and was much too ill to commit his thoughts to paper during the Friday and Sat.u.r.day following.

But on the Sunday following, in presence of 4,000 people, he, in the course of an extempore sermon, gave his hearers a graphic description of the catastrophe and of his escape from the wreck.(91) The first evening of the voyage he sat up till between eleven and twelve o'clock, enjoying the sea-breeze and the beauty of the scene. He had then retired, undressing himself as at home, and had slept well. On the fatal night, however, he seems to have had an indefinite presentiment that something was about to occur. On that evening, says he, "without any cause, I was induced to retire early (nine o'clock), and when going to bed it was deeply impressed on my mind not to undress. I accordingly lay down upon the bed with my clothes on, even my boots, and immediately fell into a sound sleep. At about half-past twelve I awoke, greatly refreshed, and prepared for what was to follow. No voice awoke me; no alarm had been given; no bell aroused me. When I awoke, I felt surprised by a peculiar indescribable sensation as of solitude, of vacancy; and on opening the window of my cabin, I looked out, but saw no person; still all was silent; and with the same feeling I arose, went out of the cabin, without even taking my watch, which lay beneath my pillow, and, as I pa.s.sed along the saloon, I overheard the voice of the stewardess in the distance, saying, 'The ship is on fire!' I then hastened towards the stairs at the fore part of the ship, and saw (oh, horror!) the blaze ascending right across the vessel. I ascended the stairs just in time to escape the flames. When on the deck, I had merely time to walk across to the bulwarks, for on the deck the flames were spreading with terrific rapidity.

"When I got on deck I saw no one, and heard no noise or confusion, so that much of the disaster must have been over by that time. I then saw some men endeavouring to lower one of the boats near the paddle-box, and at the same moment I became fully aware of my awful position, and that I had to choose between death by fire or by water, unless I made some effort to save myself. With this conviction on my mind, I laid hold of a rope, and swung myself over the ship's side, and was just about to precipitate myself into the boat beneath me, which was then swinging with her stern in the water. In another moment her human freight were in the death struggle in an element not less terrible or destructive than that from which they had been making such frantic efforts to escape; and even at this moment their appalling shrieks, as they struggled amidst the dark and gloomy waves, seem to ring in my ears. Here, again, I think Divine interference was manifested on my behalf, for an apparent accident saved me from that boat. Almost crippled as I was, I managed, by the aid of the rope to which I clung, to regain the now blazing deck, just as some of the crew were endeavouring to release one of the life-boats from her very embarra.s.sing fastenings. They succeeded. She was turned over the ship's side. I was in her then; and, while suspended midway between fire and water, she turned keel up, and her oars were thrown out. She righted in a few minutes after, and when she did so I was still in her-by what means I know not, but that the All-seeing eye was still upon me. In a minute or two more she was lowered into the sea with her freight of thirteen human souls, and amidst cries of 'She is leaking!' 'She is stove in!' 'She will be swamped!' but at the same moment one of the crew in her cut the rope that bound her to the blazing ship, and she at once dropped astern. We now made the terrible discovery that she was really leaking, and with the apparent certainty of having escaped one horrible death only to perish by another, we set our wits to work to staunch the leak and bale out the water. Michael Fox, one of the sailors-a man who merits much honour for his coolness and bravery throughout-actually thrust his arm through the leak to arrest the ingress of the water; while I handed him my cap, another gave his stockings; others did likewise; and then, with such means as these, and with the aid of our boots and two little empty casks, we managed to prevent the life-boat from being swamped. While thus occupied, and being tossed about, without food, water, oars, helm, or compa.s.s, totally at the mercy of the contending elements, we had dropped about two miles astern of the doomed ship. She was apparently motionless, while the sea continually broke over us. A barque pa.s.sed between the blazing pile and our ill-omened craft. Her hull, sails, and rigging were reflected against that fearful blaze with a blackness of shadow that appeared to render still deeper the depth of our calamity, and which the morning's light helped not to lessen, for the barque had disappeared. After the barque had departed, we fancied we saw a boat, somewhat like our own, close to us, and we hailed her, with all the power of our united voices, for oars; but she either heeded or heard us not, and quickly disappeared, and the impression was that she had been swamped. Our frail tenement was still knocked about as I have stated, still within sight of the burning ship; and at about five o'clock on Sunday morning, when the powder on board caught light, she blew up, presenting to our terror-stricken gaze a most awful and sublime spectacle.

Vast beams of flaming timber were hurled about in the air, and seemed suspended there for a moment, and then disappeared with a hissing noise in the roaring waters. A moment after, and all that remained unconsumable by fire of that once n.o.ble specimen of our mercantile marine vanished like a shot beneath the waves. And then came upon us that intensity of darkness that lent an additional horror to our truly forlorn condition. However, the merciful Ruler of our destinies had not deserted us; for as the Sabbath morning's light dawned the wind abated and the sea became comparatively calm, except that there was still a heavy swell; but still, there we were, thirteen human beings, in a frail, leaky boat, without an atom of food of any sort, the vast ocean around us, and in a state of perfect ignorance as to our geographical position, while our other physical wants, such as of clothes, boots, &c., made our case truly deplorable. By about twelve o'clock at noon, on Sunday, we had drifted, as nearly as possible, to the spot where the Amazon had sunk; and upon the then comparatively calm sea were strewn about but too many evidences of the last night's fearful devastation-immense spars, charred timbers, barrels, bales, and boxes innumerable. We drew up one of the latter, got it on board, forced it open, and found that it contained only a quant.i.ty of shoes. To those each helped himself to a pair, and then threw the remainder overboard.

"As the Sabbath morning advanced towards noon-day the glorious sun burst forth, and appeared as a happy harbinger of the fortunate release in store for us. The weather was fine, though there was a heavy swell in the sea, and we were all up to our middle in water. William Angus, poor fellow, was of no use in the boat. When leaving the ship, he had thrown himself overboard, fell upon my back, and cut his head severely. He appeared in a state of despondency for the loss of his brother; and another poor fellow had part of the fingers of one of his hands chopped off. At two o'clock the sun shone forth in all his splendour. By this time we had taken up some of the bottom boards of the boat, and these we had converted into paddles, rudder, and mast. Lieut. Grylls took from off his head his shirt, which he had previously wrapped around it, and made a flag of it; and in lieu thereof I tore off the skirts of my coat, one of which I tied around his head, and with the other I made a cap for myself. The remainder of that coat I still have, and will preserve as a memento; and so I ought, for it served as a protection against the pouring rain, while our bodies lay partially submerged in the water and the waves at times dashed over us. This coat became most useful to me afterwards, during the eleven days on board the galliot, for it served as a pocket-handkerchief, napkin, &c.

"There was a peculiar death-like feeling produced by being obliged to sit in the water all night, while at the same time the whole body was saturated with the rain and the billows poured their waters over us. At one time, shivering with cold and wet, I strove to keep my back pressed against another person to preserve the vital heat. Such cold I never felt before. The casks which we found in the boat were of essential use. How wonderful that they should have remained in the boat when she capsized and threw out the oars, for without them she must have swamped.

"Dismal were the thoughts suggested on that day as to the future. Will a storm arise? If so, our little vessel cannot live; she must be overwhelmed by the raging billows! How long can we remain in the midst of the wide extended ocean? Shall we starve-perish with hunger? Such were the gloomy forebodings, when the thrilling, joyful exclamation of 'A sail!' burst from the lips of one of the crew. Then followed the exclamation of, 'Oh, I hope she sees us! Does she hear us? Is she coming this way?' She was then on the very verge of the horizon, and-disappeared! Mute despair was then plainly perceptible in every face. I had made up my mind to die of starvation, but thought I could exist without food for a long time, for having once been ill in Paris for three weeks without even having tasted food of any sort during the whole of the time, I felt now prepared to go through the same ordeal. But again the joyful sound was uttered by Lieut.

Grylls, 'I see another sail!' We then commenced tearing up the boards from the bottom of the boat, and converting one of them into a mast, upon which we attached a shirt as a signal of distress, and breaking the rest of them into paddles and a helm, we determined, as our lives depended upon it, to make a desperate effort to approach the welcome visitor. Hour after hour was pa.s.sing away-our progress through the waves was slow, and the sailors were beginning to relax their efforts at the paddles in utter hopelessness. The sun was fast fading away, and the horrors of another night at sea in an open boat stared us in the face. I begged, prayed, and entreated the men to continue their exertions, that with the light of day we still had hope; an hour-perhaps a few minutes-may bring us near enough to be seen. Alas! there were four out of the thirteen quite helpless-viz., poor Angus, the man who had lost his fingers, a boy, and a Spanish gentleman, who appeared to have become quite paralysed. The sun was just about to shed his last ray of light upon our eyes and hope in our hearts, when those on board the vessel saw us, heard us, bore down upon us, and took us on board. Had not the great G.o.d sent us this timely succour, no account of our fate could have ever been made known, for any one of the storms which prevailed during the following eight or nine days must have destroyed us. We were hauled on board by means of ropes, and stowed in a little cabin, 6 feet by 4 only; but yet, what a palace compared to the horrors from which we had just been rescued! This vessel was a small Dutch galliot, and had a cargo of sugar from Amsterdam, consigned to Leghorn; and was, therefore, desirous of landing at Gibraltar, it being on her course. However, adverse winds set in; the captain of the galliot knew not his position; he was unable to take an observation; and was, in consequence, knocked about for nine days with this serious addition to his crew. I had been visiting the house of a n.o.ble friend but a few weeks before, but what was it compared to our present little home?" They were at length safely landed at Plymouth.

Among so many gloomy incidents, one of another nature may well be recorded. The name of Lieutenant Grylls has been mentioned as one of the survivors. But the _Cornwall Gazette_ of January 8th had the following announcement:-"Lost, on board the _Amazon_, mail steam-packet, on Sunday, the 4th inst., in which vessel he had taken his pa.s.sage to join H.M.S.

_Devastation_, to which ship he had been appointed as first lieutenant, Lieutenant Charles Gerveys Grylls, R.N., aged twenty-five, eldest surviving son of the Rev. Henry Grylls, vicar of St. Neots." But early in the morning of Friday a special messenger arrived at St. Neots, bearing a letter to the good vicar from his son, stating that he was alive and safe, and that he hoped to be with him in the evening. The news soon spread; all the neighbouring hamlets turned out their inhabitants, the village bells were rung, and a party of about 150 persons set off on the road to Plymouth to draw him home by hand. This the gallant lieutenant would not allow, being too anxious to return to his friends. A triumphal procession was, however, formed, escorted by which this witness from the dead was restored to his bereaved father. One can imagine the joy in the household, and the strong revulsion of feeling there!

"On taking a review of this overwhelming catastrophe," says the Rev. C. A.

Johns, "the reader will rise from a perusal of the narrative having his mind painfully impressed with the fearful loss of human life; and as he endeavours to picture to himself the incidents as they severally occurred, he will be more inclined to doubt that any one was possessed of nerve sufficiently strong to stand the first half-hour's ordeal rather than to wonder that so few escaped. A vessel, constructed of the best material employed in ship-building-oak, teak, and Dantzic pine-but, nevertheless, a structure of wood, bearing, in addition to cargo, crew, and pa.s.sengers, 1,000 tons of inflammable coal, and a framework of ma.s.sive iron, unceasingly grinding with the force of 800 horses-sixteen furnaces and as many huge boilers, all employed in generating the most powerful instrument of usefulness or destruction (as the case may be) which man has reduced to his will-a store-room in the vicinity of the boilers, plentifully stocked with oil and tallow-well might the lip quiver and the cheek blanch at the bare idea of FIRE being allowed to creep with but a flickering light beyond its prescribed limits. But, besides all this, he will remember that to this concatenation of perils-themselves too terrible to dwell on-must be added contingencies which aggravated the danger in a tenfold degree.

The ship was new, her timbers were dry and resinous-not, as is the case with sea-worn vessels, saturated with salt, and therefore less inflammable, but converted into rapid fuel by the unusual heat, which from some cause, explained or unexplained, was perceptible at a great distance from her boilers; the crew, though young and efficient, and more than one-half of them practised servants of the Company, were yet strange to the ship, not even having had their various duties a.s.signed to them, nor familiar with the persons of their officers, as became evident afterwards from the discrepancies in their statements of names; the wind was blowing a gale in the direction which would most readily extend a conflagration from the probable source of fire to the stern, where the majority of pa.s.sengers were congregated; the time was midnight; many of the officers, weary with their previous exertions, were recruiting their strength by a brief repose; most of the seamen and all the pa.s.sengers were buried in sleep; the sea was in a state of commotion; the place was the Bay of Biscay, the dread of outward-bound mariners; the boats, though unexceptionable as to number, capacity, and quality, were not stowed in the usual simple way, but rested on brackets, from which it was necessary for them to be lifted before they could be lowered even into that foaming ocean. Suddenly the cry of Fire! is shrieked out; the bell is set a-ringing-the death-knell-the knell of sudden, inevitable, agonising death to many a stout heart on board that proud but perishing ship. He must sleep soundly who failed to hear that piercing cry and the heartrending shrieks which took it up. Some thought it of no consequence: 'We will dress, and hasten on deck, that we may help to extinguish it.' But there were some who knew better; they could look a hurricane in the face, they could encounter a hailstorm of bullets in the execution of their duty, but they knew that, with that enemy on board, the iron beams of the _Amazon_ could only be cooled by the water which rolled at the bottom of the ocean.

Those brave men did all they could-they gave their charge a brief s.p.a.ce to make their peace with G.o.d, if G.o.d were in their thoughts, and resigned themselves to His keeping who alone could help them. Before the least terrified could gain the deck the flames were soaring above the funnels. A flight of fire was sweeping the deck; it extended from one side of the vessel to the other; it separated those in the fore-part from those in the stern; it shot forth from the port-holes; it singed the hair and scorched the skin of those who were furthest from its reach; and the air of heaven was one huge blast-pipe, fanning it into fury! Are the fire-engines of no avail? They are themselves burning. Then stop the paddle-wheels, that the boats may be launched. Alas! the engineers, half suffocated, have long been driven from the engine-room, and the levers are beyond their reach.

But the ship yet answered her helm, and was put before the wind. And now the flames were borne in an opposite direction, towards the bow, and the gale seemed to be diminished. Now the captain cried, 'Lower the larboard lifeboat!' 'It is on fire!' 'Lower the starboard lifeboat!' 'It is on fire!' Other boats yet remain, and crew and pa.s.sengers crowd into them.

Fatal haste! It was a work of time and difficulty to lift them from their sockets before, with this addition to their weight it is next to impossible. One after another they are tumbled, rather than lowered, into a sea which, from the rapid motion of the vessel, appears to be rushing from them. Some hang suspended, and their cargoes are swept away by the boiling surge; one is swamped, another is stove in. Still the fire is drawing nearer; it surrounds the boilers, and the water contained in them is nearly exhausted. When that has happened they will burst, perhaps, and then the engines will cease to work. Strange that success in effecting an escape should be promoted by the bursting of a boiler-an accident which, had it come alone, would have occasioned terror and dismay. No one knows, amidst the overwhelming din of air, fire, water, steam, human shrieks, and even the cries of dumb animals, whether this event happened or not. It was not dreaded-it was hoped for. It could not have added to the dismay, so, if it happened? it was unnoticed.

"However that may be, the ship could not free herself from her destroyer, but moderated her speed. A few boats were put off-no living soul can say how many-all, probably, that were left, and then, perhaps, the officers embarked on a raft, and-we dare not carry our thoughts further in that direction.

"The vessel lay a burning log on the waters for four or five hours, and then, as if an evil demon had possessed her, or as if some gorgeous _fete_ had now reached its close, threw up a discharge of brilliant fireworks-and the billows of the Atlantic swept unconcernedly over her hissing embers."

The following example-the terrible loss of the _London_-presents a striking contrast to that of the _Amazon_. She was literally _swamped_ at sea, and there are no recorded parallels to the case on such a scale.

Vessels, indeed, are often lost by great leakage produced by collision, but the cases are rare in modern days and in well-found ships, where ordinary leakage and water "shipped" on deck makes any great difference, and in steam-ships the pumps worked by the "donkey" engine, as a rule, effectually prevent any danger from these sources.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "LONDON."]

The _London_ was a first-cla.s.s pa.s.senger steamship of her day. She was nearly new, of 1,700 tons, and valued at 80,000. She belonged to a distinguished firm, and had been constructed on the most approved principles. Her commander, Captain Martin, was an officer of ripe experience, and this was her third voyage. She had acquired a first-cla.s.s reputation; and for months before the time(92) of sailing, berths were so eagerly engaged that it would have been difficult to accommodate, in the roughest manner, many more, while in the saloon there were no vacancies.

One lady who was desirous of proceeding with her family from Plymouth to Melbourne had made repeated applications to the owners' agents, and the captain had been consulted, but, fortunately for the applicant, had declared that the cabins were so full that he could not possibly accommodate her-a result that, at the time, caused her much disappointment; afterwards she had reason to thank her good fortune. A second-cla.s.s male pa.s.senger was so alarmed at the rough weather which the _London_ encountered on her way from the Thames to Plymouth, that on arrival at the latter he went ash.o.r.e, resigned his pa.s.sage, and returned to his home, thus unwittingly saving his life. A young man, as the result of some family quarrel, had left his home, and taken a pa.s.sage by the _London_. He was advertised for in the _Times_, and importuned to return, his friends being at first unaware of his whereabouts. Messengers were sent down to Plymouth, his friends having later acquired some clue to his movements, and an influential ship-broker in the town was employed to intercept his flight should he attempt to sail thence. Fortunately, he was detected among the pa.s.sengers of the _London_, and the fact communicated to his family by the broker, the result of which was that a brother of the young man went down to Plymouth, and persuaded the would-be emigrant to forego his voyage.

The _London_ left the East India Docks on December 29th, and on account of the severity of the weather remained at anchor at the Nore during part of the 30th and the whole of the 31st. This fact alone would indicate that Captain John Martin, her commander, was a careful seaman. The weather remained boisterous, and after getting out into the Channel the pilot decided to take the vessel for shelter to Spithead. When the weather had abated she proceeded to Plymouth, arriving there on the 5th of January.

Here an incident occurred, ominous in its nature, and particularly distressing at the commencement of a voyage, more especially as many pa.s.sengers at such a time are nervous and fearful. The small boat from a Plymouth pilot cutter, which had on board the pilot and his a.s.sistant, was swamped. The latter was rescued by a boat from the _London_, but the pilot was drowned. The remainder of the day was occupied in shipping an additional number of pa.s.sengers and filling up with coal. She sailed the same evening. The weather is described as having been then moderate.

On the 6th and 7th of January the wind rose, accompanied by strong squalls and a high sea, which caused the ship to roll considerably. Still the weather was not so boisterous but that Divine service was held on the 7th, it being the Sabbath. On Monday, the 8th, the wind freshened to a gale from the south-west, and at 9 a.m. the captain ordered the engines to be stopped, and to make sail. At 5 p.m. the weather improved, and all sails were taken in, and steaming resumed. Early on Tuesday the wind increased to a hard gale, with a very heavy sea, the ship going under steam only, and at the reduced rate of two knots an hour. At this time she pitched with terrible violence, taking whole seas over her bows. At 7 a.m. an unusually heavy sea broke into the life-boat stowed on the port-quarter, filled her completely, and carried her overboard with all her gear. At 9 a.m. the ship gave a tremendous pitch, so as to bury herself forward, when the sea carried away the jib and flying jibbooms, and they took with them the fore-top mast and fore-top gallant, the fore-royal and main-royal masts, with all their spars, sails, and rigging. The masts fell in-board, and hung suspended by the rigging, but the jibbooms remained under the bows, fastened to the ship by their stays, which were of wire. Every effort to get them clear failed till next morning, it having blown a furious gale all night from the south-west, with a sea that kept constantly washing all forward. On the morning of Wednesday, the 10th, the gale continued without the least abatement, and at 3 a.m. the captain gave orders to Mr. Greenhill, the engineer in charge, to get up full steam, as he intended to put back to Plymouth, in order to refit. The ship's course was accordingly shaped for home, the fore and mizen stay-sails were set, and she steamed along moderately at the rate of five or six knots. In the course of the morning, the masts, which up to that time had been swinging about aloft, were secured, and the wreck of the jibboom cleared away.

Observations taken that day indicated that she was about 200 miles from the Land's End. At 6 p.m. both the fore and mizen stay-sails were carried away in a furious squall; another life-boat and the cutter were washed clean overboard and lost. At 9 p.m. the wind increased to a perfect hurricane from the north-west, the squalls blowing with a degree of fury seldom paralleled. The engines were stopped, and the ship put under the main top-sail only, which was soon blown away in shreds. The captain once more ordered the engines to be set in motion. Up to this time, notwithstanding the heavy seas she encountered, it does not appear that the vessel had shipped much water.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "LONDON" GOING DOWN.]

At half-past 10 p.m. a terrific sea broke upon the ship over the weather or port gangway, and an immense ma.s.s of water, the crest of a mighty wave, descended almost perpendicularly over the hatch of the engine-room, smashing it right in, admitting tons upon tons of water, washing from the deck into the engine-room two men, a seaman and a pa.s.senger. There being nothing to obstruct the influx of sea, the engine-room began to fill with water. The fires were extinguished at once, and in about eight minutes the engines ceased to work. The engineers remained below till the water was above their waists, and they could work no more. The large bilge-pumps also proved useless, and the condition of the ship became utterly helpless, often rolling into the trough of the sea, rolling gunwale under, and labouring heavily. The captain called on those who were baling, "Men, put down your buckets, and come and try to secure the engine-room hatch, for that's our only chance of saving the ship! Secure that, and we may keep her afloat yet." Every endeavour, however, to replace the hatch proved unavailing. Efforts were made to stop the opening with sails, mattra.s.ses, and spars, but without success; and although the donkey-engine and pumps were kept at work, yet the water quickly gained upon them, and all their efforts were fruitless. It was then that the captain uttered words of which he knew the full meaning, and which must have thrilled through many of the pa.s.sengers' bosoms who had hitherto been hoping against hope-"Boys, you may say your prayers!" All was over with them.

At 4 a.m of the 11th a tremendous sea struck the ship abaft, which stove in four windows, or stern-ports, of the upper or p.o.o.p cabin. Through the breaches thus made the sea rushed into the ship in such quant.i.ties that the 'tween decks were soon half full of water. The ship at this time was settling fast; the captain went into the engine-room, and, with the engineer, took soundings, when it was found that there was fourteen feet of water in her. The captain then told Greenhill that he had abandoned all hope of saving her, and shortly afterwards made a similar communication to the pa.s.sengers. At about 10 a.m. the captain ordered the boats to be got ready, which was done, and the starboard pinnace, which was of iron, was lowered into the water, but was almost immediately upset by the sea, and lost. Shortly after this the captain entered the saloon, and said, "Ladies, there is no hope for us, I'm afraid. Nothing short of a miracle can save us!"

During the hours of agony and horror which had preceded this announcement the Rev. Mr. Draper,(93) a Wesleyan minister on board, was incessant in administering religious comfort to his fellow-sufferers; and we are told by the survivors that the women (all of whom perished in the sequel) sat about him reading their Bibles, with their children grouped around; "and occasionally some man or woman would step up to him and say, 'Pray with me, Mr. Draper'-a request that was always complied with." What a scene must have been presented at that last prayer-meeting in the cabin, the ship labouring and tossing the while; the waves, with their ominous roar, breaking over her and dashing against her; while by half-extinguished lights little groups of earnest, pale-faced people huddled together, shivering and trembling, before the doomed _London_ took her last leap into the dark waters!

After the announcement by the captain that they must prepare for the worst, Mr. Draper is stated to have stood erect, and with a clear, firm voice, the tears streaming from his eyes, said, "The captain tells us there is no hope-that we must all perish; but I tell you there is hope for _all_!" The reader will know what the good old man meant. Mrs. Draper is said at the last moment to have handed her rug to one of the seamen who was attempting to get off in a boat, and when asked what she would do without it, she replied, "It will only be for a few moments longer."

As there were so few survivors to tell the tale, the incidents which must have occurred during this terrible time are necessarily somewhat meagre.

One pa.s.senger rushed on deck labouring with a heavy carpet-bag, which he expected to save with his life. The captain could hardly forbear, even at that terrible time, a melancholy smile at the absurdity of a man at such a moment taking any thought about his property. When the only boat which got off safely was about to leave the fated ship, a lady entreated to be taken on board, offering a thousand guineas as a reward. But it was impossible-millions could not have saved her. A pa.s.senger who was saved, just before leaving in the boat, went into the cabin to persuade a friend to join him. "No," said the other; "I promised my wife and children to stay by them, and I will!" His friend helped him to remove the children to a drier part of the cabin, and then, with a sad good-bye, ran up to the deck. When last seen, the man was still standing with his wife and little ones. Another pa.s.senger said to a friend, also one of the few saved, "Jack, I think we are going to go." "I think we are," was the answer. "We can't help it," rejoined the first; "but there's one thing I regret:" and he went on to explain how some 500 of his money was in the Bank of Victoria, and he evidently feared some hitch in its recovery. "I should have liked my poor father to have it." He was a true son to the last.

As at the wreck of the _Amazon_ a distinguished author lost his life, so on the _London_ a great actor, the celebrated G. V. Brooke, perished, but perished n.o.bly. The _Times_ (quoting the _Western Morning News_ of the date) says:-

"Down into the waves, with 269(94) others, has sunk Gustavus V. Brooke, the famed tragedian, who was bound for the country which had been the scene of a reverse of fortune for him, but previously of many successes.

He was a tall man, of powerful build, and he is stated by the rescued pa.s.sengers to have exerted himself to the utmost in trying to keep the ship afloat. The Dutch portion of the crew, twenty-one in number, refused to work, and, according to the English sailors who were saved, these men went to their berths and remained there, so that the pa.s.sengers had to work at the pumps for many hours with the English seamen. Mr. G. V. Brooke exerted himself incessantly; attired only in a red Crimean shirt and trousers, with no hat on, and barefooted, he went backwards and forwards to the pumps, until working at them was found to be useless, and when last seen, about four hours before the steamer went down, he was leaning with grave composure upon one of the half-doors of the companion; his chin was resting upon both hands, and his hands were on the top of the door, which he gently swayed to and fro, while he calmly watched the scene. One of the pa.s.sengers who saw him said, 'he had worked wonderfully-in fact, more than any man on board the ship.' To the steward, to whom Mr. Brooke made himself known, he said, 'If you succeed in saving yourself, give my farewell to the people of Melbourne.'"

The last trace of the gifted tragedian is found in the following episode.

In the _Times_ of March 20, 1866, appeared the following letter from Mrs.

Brooke (Avonia):-

"To the Editor of the _Times_.

"Sir,-On Friday night I received the last written words of my dear husband. They were found in a bottle on the Brighton beach, and forwarded to me by Mr. C. A. Elliott, of Trinity College, Cambridge. They are written in pencil on a torn envelope, and read as follows:-'11th January, on board the _London_. We are just going down. No chance of safety. Please give this to Avonia Jones, Surrey Theatre.-Gustavus Vaughan Brooke.'