Narratives of Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy; between 1793 and 1849 by William O. S. Gilly

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From the suddenness of the catastrophe, no accurate account can of
course be given; but the following particulars were collected from the
survivors.

The captain, Israel Pellew, was at dinner in his cabin, with Captain
Swaffield of the Overyssel, a Dutch 64, and the first lieutenant of
the Amphion, when in an instant they were all violently thrown against
the carlings of the upper deck. Captain Pellew had sufficient presence
of mind to rush to the cabin window before a second explosion
followed, by which he was blown into the water; he was soon, however,
picked up by a boat, and was found to have sustained but little
injury.

The first lieutenant, who followed his example, escaped in a similar
manner. Unfortunately, Captain Swaffield perished, in all probability
having been stunned either by the first blow he received against the
carlings, or by coming in contact with some part of the hulk. His body
was found a month afterwards, with the skull fractured, apparently
crushed between the sides of the two vessels.

At the moment of the explosion, the sentinel at the cabin door was
looking at his watch, when it was dashed from his hands and he was
stunned: he knew nothing more until he found himself safe on shore,
and comparatively unhurt. The escape of the boatswain was also very
remarkable; he was standing on the cathead, directing the men in
rigging out the jib-boom, when he felt himself suddenly carried off
his feet into the air: he then fell into the sea senseless; and on
recovering his consciousness, he found that he had got entangled
amongst the rigging, and that his arm was broken. He contrived to
extricate himself, though with some difficulty, and he was soon picked
up by a boat, without further injury.

The preservation of a child was no less singular: in the terror of the
moment, the mother had grasped it in her arms, but, horrible to
relate, the lower part of her body was blown to pieces, whilst the
upper part remained unhurt, and it was discovered with the arms still
clasping the living child to the lifeless bosom.

Till then we had not wept--
But well our gushing hearts might say,
That there a _Mother_ slept!
For her pale arms a babe had prest
With such a wreathing grasp,
The fire had pass'd o'er that fond breast,
_Yet not undone the clasp_.
Deep in her bosom lay his head,
With half-shut violet eye--
_He_ had known little of her dread,
Nought of her agony.
Oh! human love, whose yearning heart,
Through all things vainly true,
So stamps upon thy mortal part
Its passionate adieu:
Surely thou hast another lot,
There is some home for thee,
Where thou shalt rest, rememb'ring not
The moaning of the sea.--MRS. HEMANS.

The exact complement of the Amphion was 215, but from the crowded
state of her decks at the time of the accident, it is supposed that
300, out of 310 or 312 persons, perished with the ship.

The captain, two lieutenants, a boatswain, three or four seamen, a
marine, one woman, and the child were all that were saved.

The cause of this unfortunate event was never clearly known; but it
was conjectured that the gunner might have let fall some powder near
the fore-magazine, which accidentally igniting, had communicated with
the magazine itself. The gunner had been suspected of stealing the
powder, and on that day he is said to have been intoxicated, and was
probably less careful than usual. He was amongst the numbers who
perished.

THE TRIBUNE

The loss of the TRIBUNE frigate, in November of the following year, is
too interesting to be omitted.

At about eight o'clock on the morning of the 16th of November, 1797,
the harbour of Halifax was discovered, and as a strong wind blew from
the east-south-east, Captain Scory Barker proposed to the master to
lie to, until a pilot came on board. The master replied that there was
no necessity for such a measure, as the wind was favourable, and he
was perfectly well acquainted with the passage. The captain confiding
in this assurance, went below, and the master took charge of the ship.

Towards noon they approached so near the Thrum Cape shoals, that the
master became alarmed and sent for Mr. Galvin, one of the master's
mates. The message was scarcely delivered, before the man in the
main-chains sung out, 'By the mark five.' In a few minutes after the
ship struck.

Signals of distress were immediately made, and as speedily answered by
the military posts, and the ships in the harbour.

Some boats put out from the harbour to the assistance of the Tribune,
and Mr. Rackum, boatswain of the Ordinary, succeeded in reaching her
in a boat from the dockyard, but all the other boats were forced to
put back,--the wind was blowing so hard directly against them.

The ship continued to beat until eight o'clock, P.M., when all the
guns having been thrown overboard (except one, retained for signals),
and all means taken to lighten her, she began to heave, and in about
an hour after she swung off the shoal,--not, however, without having
lost her rudder.

She was then found to have seven feet of water in the hold; the chain
pumps were instantly manned, and every exertion made to save the
vessel. At first these efforts seemed to be successful, but by ten
o'clock the gale had increased to a frightful violence, and the water
was gaining on them so fast that little hope remained. The ship was
driving rapidly towards the rocky coast, against which she must have
been dashed to pieces had she kept afloat a few minutes longer, but
she gave a lurch and went down, rose again for an instant, and with
another lurch sank, and all was over,--and there were nearly two
hundred and fifty human beings struggling with the waves.

Of all the crew twelve only were saved.

Mr. Galvin, the master's mate, was below, directing the working of the
pumps, when the ship went down; he was washed up the hatchway, and
thence into the sea; he then struck out for the shrouds, but was
seized by three of his drowning comrades. To extricate himself from
their grasp, he dived for a few seconds, which caused them to let go
their hold. He reached the shrouds, which were crowded with people,
and then climbed to the main-top. Ten men had taken refuge in the
foretop, and about a hundred persons altogether are supposed by Mr.
Galvin to have been clinging to the shrouds, tops, and other parts of
the rigging; but the long November night, the intense cold, and the
fierce gale, finished the work that the waves had left undone; and one
by one the poor creatures let go their hold, frozen or exhausted, and
dropped into the foaming sea.

About forty persons were clinging to the mainmast when it fell over,
and all were lost, except Mr. Galvin and nine others, who had strength
enough left to enable them to gain the top, which rested on the
mainyard, being fortunately sustained by a part of the rigging. But of
the ten who regained the main-top, four only, including Mr. Galvin,
survived the night. Of the ten in the foretop, six perished, three
from exhaustion, and three were washed way.

Here we cannot refrain from relating an instance of the coolness which
is so often characteristic of the British sailor. Amongst those who
survived in the foretop were two seamen, Robert Dunlap, and Daniel
Munroe; the latter disappeared in the night, and his companion
concluded that he had been washed away with the others. About two
hours, however, after he had been missed, Munroe, to the surprise of
Dunlap, thrust his head through the lubber's hole. Dunlap asked where
he had been.

'Been.' said Munroe; 'I've been cruizing, d'ye see, in search of a
better berth.'

After swimming about the wreck for a considerable time, he had
returned to the fore-shrouds, and crawling in at the cat-harpings, had
been sleeping there more than an hour.

When the morning dawned, there were only eight men still alive on the
rigging, and no effort was made to rescue them until about eleven
o'clock, A.M., when a boy of thirteen years of age put out alone, in a
small skiff from Herring Cove, to their assistance, thus setting a
noble example of humanity and heroism to older and more experienced
men, who should have been leaders, and not followers, on such an
occasion. With great courage and skill, and at the peril of his life,
he reached the wreck, and backing his skiff close to the foretop,
carried off two of the people. Upon this occasion, also, a noble
instance of the magnanimity of the true British tar was displayed.

Munroe and Dunlap, who, during the night, had preserved their strength
and spirits, and had done everything in their power to sustain their
less fortunate comrades, refused to quit the wreck until the other two
men, who were so exhausted as to be unable to make any effort for
their own safety, were taken on shore. They accordingly lifted them
into the skiff, and the gallant boy rowed them off in triumph to the
Cove, and deposited them in safety in the nearest cottage.

He again put off in his skiff, but this time all his efforts were
unavailing, and he was obliged to return. His gallant example,
however, had the effect of inducing others to make the attempt, and
the six survivors were conveyed to the shore in large boats.

THE RESISTANCE

Before concluding this chapter, we will briefly relate another
catastrophe, somewhat similar to that of the Amphion, but which
affords a still more remarkable instance of the preservation of four
individuals, from one of whom the following particulars were
ascertained:----

It appears that the RESISTANCE, of 44 guns, Captain Edward Pakenham,
had anchored in the Straits of Banca, on the 23rd of July, 1798.
Between three and four o'clock in the morning of the 24th, the ship
was struck by lightning: the electric fluid must have penetrated and
set fire to some part of the vessel near to the magazine, as she blew
up with a fearful violence a few moments after the flash. Thomas
Scott, a seaman, one of the few survivors, stated that he was lying
asleep on the starboard side of the quarter-deck, when being suddenly
awakened by a bright blaze, and the sensation of scorching heat, he
found his hair and clothes were on fire. A tremendous explosion
immediately followed, and he became insensible. He supposed that some
minutes must have elapsed before he recovered, when he found himself,
with many of his comrades, struggling in the waves amongst pieces of
the wreck. The Resistance had sunk, but the hammock netting was just
above water on the starboard side, and with much difficulty Scott and
the other survivors contrived to reach it. When they were able to look
around them, they found that twelve men alone remained of a crew of
above three hundred, including the marines. The calmness of the
weather enabled the unfortunate sufferers to construct a raft with the
pieces of timber that were floating about; but most of the men were so
much bruised and burnt as to be unable to assist in the work. The raft
was finished about one o'clock, P.M., but in a very rough and insecure
manner. Part of the mainsail attached to the mast of the jolly-boat
served them for a sail, and they committed themselves to the care of
Providence upon this frail raft, and made for the nearest shore, which
was the low land of Sumatra, about three leagues distant.

About seven o'clock in the evening, a gale sprung up, the sea ran
high, and the lashings of the raft began to give way, the planks which
formed the platform were washed off, and in a short time the mast and
sail were also carried away. An anchor-stock which formed part of the
raft had separated, and was floating away; but although it was at some
distance, Scott proposed to swim for it, and encouraging three others
to follow his example, they all reached it in safety. In about an hour
afterwards they lost sight of their companions on the raft, and never
saw them more. The four men upon the anchor-stock gained the shore,
and they then fell into the hands of the Malays.

Thomas Scott was twice sold as a slave, but was at length released, at
the request of Major Taylor, the governor of Malacca, who, hearing
that four British seamen were captives at Lingan, sent to the Sultan
to beg his assistance in procuring their liberty. Thomas Scott
returned with Major Taylor's messenger to Malacca, from whence he
sailed to England: the other three men had been previously released by
the Sultan's orders, and conveyed to Penang.

THE PROSERPINE.

On Monday, January the 28th, 1799, His Majesty's frigate Proserpine,
28 guns, commanded by Captain James Wallis, sailed from Yarmouth to
Cuxhaven. She had on board the Hon. Thomas Grenville, who was the
bearer of important despatches for the Court of Berlin. On Wednesday,
the 30th, the ship was off Heligoland, and there took in a pilot for
the Elbe. The day being fine, with a fair wind from the N.N.E., the
Proserpine's course was steered for the Red Buoy, where she anchored
for the night. It was then perceived that the two other buoys at the
entrance of the river had been removed: a consultation was therefore
held with the pilots, in the presence of Mr. Grenville, as to the
practicability of proceeding up the river in the absence of the buoys.
The Heligoland pilot, and the two belonging to the ship, were
unanimous in declaring that there was not the slightest difficulty or
danger in ascending the river; they professed the most perfect
knowledge of the passage, and assured Captain Wallis they had no fear
of carrying the vessel to Cuxhaven provided only he would proceed
between half ebb and half flood tide; for in that case they should be
able to see the sands and to recognise their marks.

The next morning (31st), the Proserpine was got under weigh, and
proceeded up the river, having the Prince of Wales packet, which had
accompanied her from Yarmouth, standing on ahead.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, when they were within four miles of
Cuxhaven, the weather became very thick, and some snow fell, so that
Captain Wallis was obliged to anchor.

At nine o'clock, P.M., the wind changed to east by south, blowing a
violent gale, accompanied by a heavy fall of snow, which made it
impossible to see beyond a few feet from the ship; and what was still
worse, the tide and the wind brought such large masses of ice against
the ship, that, with all hands upon deck, it was with the greatest
difficulty they prevented the cables being cut, and were able to
preserve their station till daylight.

By eight o'clock next morning, the flood tide had carried up most of
the ice, and left a passage clear below the ship, while all above it
was blocked tip. The Prince of Wales packet had gone on shore during
the night; and, warned by her fate, Captain Wallis determined to
retreat out of the Elbe. Mr. Grenville was very anxious to be put on
shore as speedily as possible, his mission being of much importance;
but the river was so completely blocked up above them, that there
seemed no possibility of effecting a landing at Cuxhaven: Captain
Wallis therefore got his ship under weigh, and stood out to sea,
intending to land Mr. Grenville on the nearest part of the coast of
Jutland, if it were practicable.

The pilots were congratulating the captain on the frigate's getting
safely out of the river, and clear of the sands, and the people had
been allowed to go to breakfast, on the supposition that all danger
was past, when the vessel struck upon Scharborn Sand, with Newark
Island bearing south by east, at half-past nine o'clock, A.M.

As it was blowing a very strong gale of wind, the Proserpine struck
with great force, though she carried no other canvass than her
foretopmast stay-sail. Upon sounding there was found to be only ten
feet of water under the fore part of her keel.

The boats were immediately lowered to carry out an anchor, but the ice
was returning upon them so fast that this was found impossible, and
the boats were hoisted on board again. All hands were then employed to
shore the ship up, and make her heel towards the bank, to prevent her
falling into the stream, which would have been certain destruction.
Happily this object was effected; for as the tide ebbed, she lay
towards the bank.

The next tide, however, brought down such huge masses of ice that the
shores were carried away--the copper was torn from the starboard
quarter, and the rudder cut in two, the lower part lying on the ice
under the counter.

Notwithstanding all these disasters, Captain Wallis still hoped to get
the ship off at high water, and to effect this, they proceeded to
lighten her by throwing most of her guns and part of her stores
overboard, all of which were borne up on the ice. One party was
employed in hoisting out the provisions, another in starting the casks
of wine and spirits; and such were the good discipline and right
feeling of the men, that not one instance of intoxication occurred.

At ten o'clock on Friday night, they abandoned all hope of saving the
vessel; it was then high water, yet the heavy gale from the south-east
so kept back the tide, that upon sounding, they found three feet less
water than there had been in the morning, when the ship first struck.

The situation of the crew was dreadful. When the tide ebbed, they
expected every moment that the ship would be driven to pieces by the
ice. The cold was intense, and the darkness such that it was almost
impossible to distinguish one another upon deck; and the snow, falling
very thick, was driven against their faces by the wind, and froze upon
them as it fell.

There was no possibility of keeping up warmth and circulation in their
bodies, for the frozen snow and ice made the deck so slippery they
could scarcely stand, much less walk about quickly, and all they could
do was, to try to screen themselves as much as possible from the
pitiless blast. Thus the night was spent in anxious fears for the
future, and dread of immediate destruction. But morning came at last,
though with little comfort to the sufferers, for the wind had
increased, the ice was up to the cabin windows, the stern-post was
found to be broken in two, and the ship otherwise seriously damaged.

In this state they could not long remain. Mr. Grenville and some of
the officers proposed to Captain Wallis that the crew should make an
attempt to get over the ice to Newark Island, as the only means of
preserving their lives.[4] At first, Captain Wallis was inclined to
reject the proposal; he saw all the danger attending such an attempt;
and it appeared to him, that they could scarcely expect to succeed in
crossing the ice through a dense fog and heavy snow-storm, without any
knowledge of the way, without a guide, and exhausted as they were by
mental and bodily suffering, and benumbed with cold.

On the other hand, he confessed that the plan presented a hope of
safety, and that it was their only hope. The ship's company were
unanimous in wishing to adopt it, and therefore Captain Wallis finally
consented.

The people then set heartily to work to consider the difficulties of
the undertaking, and the best means of meeting them. It was determined
that they should be divided into four companies, each headed by an
officer; that the strongest of the men should carry planks, to be laid
down in the most dangerous places by way of assistance to the less
able and active of the party; and that others should hold a long line
of extended rope, to be instantly available in case of any one falling
between the blocks of ice.

When all these measures were decided upon, and every man had provided
himself with what was most essential for his safety and sustenance,
they began their perilous journey at half-past one o'clock, P.M. By
three o'clock, every one had left the ship, except Captain Wallis, and
he then followed the party, accompanied by Lieutenant Ridley, of the
Marines.

To describe the dangers and difficulties the crew of the Proserpine
had to encounter is almost impossible. The snow was still falling
heavily, driving against their faces, and adhering to their hair and
eyebrows, where in a few minutes it became solid pieces of ice.
Sometimes they had to clamber over huge blocks of ice, and at other
times were obliged to plunge through snow and water reaching to their
middle.

As the wind blew from the direction in which they were proceeding, the
large flakes of snow were driven into their eyes, and prevented them
from seeing many yards in advance. This caused them to deviate from
their proper course, and to travel in a direction which, if continued,
would have carried them off the shoal and field of ice into the sea,
or at least have taken them so far from any place of shelter, as to
have left them to perish in the ice and snow during the night.

This dreadful calamity was, however, prevented, by one of the party
having in his possession a pocket compass. Fortunately, bearings had
been taken previous to their leaving the wreck. The course they were
pursuing was examined, and to their surprise it was discovered that
they had been deviating widely from the direct line which they ought
to have pursued. This, however, enabled the party to correct the
march, and after a toilsome journey of six miles, they at length
reached Newark.

In the course of their hazardous journey, a striking instance was
afforded of the inscrutable ways of Providence. Two females were on
board the Proserpine when she was stranded,--one a strong healthy
woman, accustomed to the hardships of a maritime life: the other
exactly the reverse, weak and delicate, had never been twelve hours on
board a ship until the evening previous to the frigate's sailing from
Yarmouth. Her husband had been lately impressed, and she had come on
board for the purpose of taking farewell. Owing to a sudden change of
the weather, and the urgency of the mission for which the Proserpine
had been despatched, she had been unable to quit the ship. The poor
creature was upon the eve of her confinement, and naturally being but
ill prepared to combat with the inconvenience of a ship at sea, in the
course of the day she was delivered of a dead child. The reader can
well imagine the sufferings endured by this helpless woman, with but
one of her own sex to tend her, in a vessel tossed about in the stormy
seas of the Northern Ocean.

But this was little compared with what she had yet to undergo. Before
many hours the frigate stranded: the night was passed in torture of
mind and body, and then was she compelled, with others, to quit the
ship, and travel through masses of snow and ice, and to combat with
the bitter north wind, hail, and sleet.

It may well be supposed that her strength, already weakened by the
sufferings she had undergone, was totally unprepared to bear up
against a trial from which the strongest of the crew might have
shrunk; but it turned out otherwise. The robust, healthy woman, with
her feeble companion, left the wreck together, the former bearing in
her arms an infant of nine months old. No doubt many a ready arm was
stretched forth to assist them in their perilsome journey. But man
could have done but little against the piercing winter's blast with
which they had to contend. Before they had proceeded half the
distance, the child was frozen in its mother's arms, and ere long the
mother herself sunk on the snow, fell into a state of stupor, and
died. Not so the delicate invalid; sustained by help from above, she
still pursued her way, and ere long gained with others the hospitable
shore. The inhabitants of the village received the strangers with
great kindness, and did everything in their power to alleviate their
sufferings. The ship's company were distributed amongst them for the
night, but the poverty of the place afforded them little more than
shelter.

The next morning a general muster was made, and it was ascertained
that, of the whole company, twelve seamen, a woman, and her child,
only were missing; these had either been frozen to death, or had died
from the effects of cold, and the loss was small when compared with
the hardships they had suffered. Several men had their legs and
fingers frozen, but through proper medical treatment they all
recovered.

The storm lasted without intermission till the night of the 5th, and
during that time the crew of the Proserpine were suffering much from
the want of necessary food, clothing, &c. Provisions were so scarce
that they were all put upon short allowance; and their scanty store
being nearly exhausted, it became absolutely necessary that part of
them should proceed to Cuxhaven.

They learnt that at low water it was possible to get to Cuxhaven on
foot; and as some of the islanders offered their services as guides,
and the tide served, it was settled that the first lieutenant and half
the officers and men should start with the guides on the morning of
the 6th.

Mr. Grenville being very anxious to proceed on his mission to Berlin,
determined to accompany the party, with the secretary to the embassy,
and some of the servants; and they accordingly all set off at eight
o'clock in the morning, the severity of the weather having somewhat
abated.

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