Above deck many were leaving the ship, and trusting to the waves casting them on the contiguous sh.o.r.e. A sudden lurch, accompanied by a breaking up of the deck, and ominous creaking of adjacent timbers, confirmed the distressing conviction that all would soon be over.

Looking up, Mr. Meriton perceived that the vessel had literally snapped asunder. Whatever might be accomplished, now was the time to attempt it. Seeing a plank, reaching, as he supposed, to the sh.o.r.e, he ventured upon it, only to find out that he had laboured under a mistake. He was immediately projected into the sea, and carried with the tide into the cavern; but succeeding in clasping a jagged spar of elevated rock, he gained by its aid a place of temporary safety. It is impossible to tell how many were killed by being thrown against these rocks by the relentless waves, but that numbers were, is certain.

In the blackness of night, the last despairing cry of many expiring souls filled the ears of the survivors, acute with terror, until they, in turn, becoming exhausted, would unresistingly glide into the seething foam, to be swallowed up by the remorseless ocean.

Yearning for the dawn, these wretched people hailed its early glimmer, only to sink into a lower state of despair, as its light plainly showed them to be even in a worse situation than they had imagined. They were completely shut in one great overhanging enclosure of rocks, entirely hidden from the land, and from which escape seemed to be impossible.

In such a condition one would suppose that any ray of hope which might previously have existed would have died out, yet, with the persistent courage and sanguine temperament of the sailors, they dared to believe in the possibility of escape; and with this forlorn hope, attempted to gain the summit of the cliffs, which a few effected in a very wonderful manner. The quarter-master and cook, succeeding first, gave the alarm, when a number of quarrymen, together with a Mr. Garland, hastened down to the beach to render a.s.sistance.

The chief officer, never losing spirit for one instant, although considerably wounded by contact with the rocks, managed to grasp with his hands a shelving piece of rock, which had afforded foothold to a solitary soldier, who, nevertheless, was trembling in the expectation of it giving way at any moment. Mr. Meriton, who was looking for the same mishap, observed with joy the end of a rope coming towards them.

This the soldier eagerly embraced, and was drawn up in safety. At the same time, the narrow ledge that was supporting Mr. Meriton gave way, but providentially another end of rope was in view, and this, with a dexterous spring, he managed to obtain.

Meanwhile, Captain Pierce and the young ladies still remained in the round-house, remarking, sorrowfully, the absence of the chief officer.

Mr. Rogers, who was third mate, replied that he had gone aloft to see how matters stood with them. The captain, sorely distressed on account of his daughters, took a calm and lengthy survey, to see if any chance might present itself to him for their safety; but all he could discover before him was an extensive front of perpendicular rock, so he and the third officer returned, to prepare the ladies for the worst. The captain, drawing his daughters to him, held them firmly in each arm, and thus together they went down, and so death found them! The third officer, a midshipman, and one of the pa.s.sengers, determined, at any risk, to leave the ship, as they were well aware that to remain in her was inevitably to perish. Accordingly they hastened on to the p.o.o.p. A moment later, and they must have been swept away by a gigantic wave, that reared itself over the vessel, and which half-drowned, in the noise of its descent, the screams that rose from the cabin below. A hencoop, which had been grasped by a couple of pa.s.sengers, landed them in an exhausted condition upon a rock. Mr. Schutz and the midshipman had both disappeared. Twenty-seven men gained access to a rock, but seeing that, as the tide flowed, they would stand in danger of being swept off, they strove to make for the cavern, but all, except eight, were drowned in the attempt. Messrs. Rogers and Brimer, who were among the number, succeeded in approaching the cavern, and ensconced themselves on shelving ledges worn by the action of the sea; and this fearful situation they were compelled to retain, witnessing the fruitless and violent efforts of their expiring companions, while their ears were filled with their stifled cries. Mr. Rogers saw Mr. Meriton on the rock, a few feet from himself, and they congratulated one another upon their escape, and together watched the final plump of the "Halsewell" into the depths of the ocean. A distressing fact was, that some of the men, even at the moment when succour was near, unable to hold out any longer, were precipitated into the sea. Owing to the brave and humane conduct of the quarrymen, those who had survived were placed in comfortable quarters before night; but these were a small minority of those who started gaily out in that ill-fated ship.

On the 26th February, 1852, the "Birkenhead" went down off the Cape of Good Hope, carrying with her four hundred and thirty-eight souls. The n.o.ble example of our British heroes, who found a watery grave by the sinking of the above-named vessel, will never be forgotten. It is unsurpa.s.sed in all the annals of our country's history. The ship was sent out at the time of the Caffre war. It was a fine evening, and there was land ahead, toward which the "Birkenhead" was steering at ordinary speed. She was splendidly built, and had conveyed a large band of soldiers and their families from Cork--had left a few troops at Cape Town, and was now proceeding to Algoa Bay with a few detachments of the 12th, 74th, and 91st regiments, and from thence to Buffalo River with others. The total number of troops amounted to something over five hundred; and in addition to these, were the wives and children of some of the men, and one hundred and thirty-two of the ship's crew.

Nearly all of these were asleep in their cabins. Captain Wright, of the 91st, was on deck, with an officer of the watch, and they held a short argument concerning a light which was visible on the port side.

They could not agree as to which beacon it was, but they were convinced it was to mark a point of danger.

About two o'clock A.M., on the 26th, they unconsciously ran the vessel on a bed of rock, which was covered by the sea to a sufficient depth to hide it from sight. The shock was followed by such a tide flowing in at the opening thus effected, that many of the slumberers must have pa.s.sed from one sleep into another with scarcely any knowledge of the pa.s.sage. The awakened troops, with their officers, immediately rushed on deck--the captain, Mr. Salmond, being among the first to arrive there. The steam was turned off, the small anchor cast, and boats lowered, in case there should be any necessity for using them. Colonel Seton gathered the officers together, and begged them to see that order and silence were maintained in their respective regiments. Captain Wright was asked to work with the commander. Without the slightest apparent emotion, the men went about their work as calmly as they would have executed an ordinary practiced manoeuvre. No signs of fear were evident, but discipline was strictly regarded. Sixty men, in successive lots of twenty, worked at the chain pumps, and another sixty looked after the boat tackles; while all who were not needed in the management of the vessel stood in marching order on the p.o.o.p for ballast. The horses were all pitched out, and some of them turned their heads for the land, which could be plainly distinguished in a starry night, about sixteen furlongs off. A boat was prepared for the women and children, who awaited it in breathless silence, and all were carefully disposed of in its capacious sides. They had but just moored off when the vessel struck again, making another breach for a swifter flood, both shocks coming within fifteen minutes of each other. The bow snapped from the foremast, the bowsprit flew through the air up to the foretopmast, and the funnel, toppling overboard, dragged in its rear the starboard paddle-box and boat. The second boat had reached the waves bottom upmost, and notwithstanding there was another in the middle of the ship, she could not be reached. The water speedily put out the fires, compelling the engine-drivers to leave their station and ascend to the upper deck. It was known to be a certainty that the vessel must sink, and that very shortly, nevertheless there was no setting aside the tasks they had received orders to perform, although they were well aware that everything they did was useless, so far as the righting of the ship was concerned. Still every man kept to his post, even though he were overtaken by the waters and overwhelmed by them. Many, indeed, must have perished at the pumps, while others, keeping by the tackle, were struck down by falling timbers.

When the funnel was lost, every man was on the p.o.o.p; three boats were afloat, containing all the women and children. The decisive moment having arrived, when all must be committed to the waves, the commander advised all who could to swim to the boats; but as in all probability this would lead to their being sunk, on account of the vast numbers requiring accommodation, several officers, in the face of this order, implored the men to stay in their present position, rather than sacrifice the women and children in attempting to save themselves. One or two had already started at the captain's bidding; but the majority waited behind, with the officers standing firmly and in orderly rank, in calm expectation of a speedy dissolution, uttering no repining, no words of mourning for their fate, or expressions of fear, but each man, in his loyalty to duty, quietly and inwardly prepared to meet his death! It is a touching and inspiring picture, that may well emulate every bosom to deeds of heroism. The stern of the vessel, which had reared as the bow descended, gave a sudden plunge and went under also, and those who had swarmed its deck felt the force of the waters uplifting them as their footing sank beneath them, and they were left to struggle as they might with the briny element.

The last sentence the captain spoke was to give the order for a boat to take up Mr. Brodie, whom he saw fighting with the waves. When the vessel was gone from under him, he was seen making his way to a block of woodwork, which was floating near; but a clumsy log bearing heavily towards him stunned him, and he at once disappeared. Colonel Seton also made his grave with the brave troops he had commanded. Captain Wright and a few others managed to keep their heads above water by clinging to a drifting spar, and about two hundred men for a time held on to pieces of the wreck, part of the mainmast supporting a great number. The princ.i.p.al portion of the deck being undestroyed, it served as a raft for those who could reach it, but the numbers were thinning rapidly, as one after another became exhausted and sank; and three boats were carried away, bottom uppermost.

Cornet Bond, having with him a life-preserver, succeeded in filling it with air, and by its aid reached the land in safety. Drowning men were struggling in all directions, and their groans and cries were fearfully appalling. Two men, who were cleaving the water finely, not far distant from him, Mr. Bond perceived to go under all in a moment shrieking, being seized by the voracious sharks which abound on that coast. The cornet had two miles to swim, which he accomplished with difficulty. As he neared the sh.o.r.e, he found himself caught in a forest of tangled sea-weed, from which he at last extricated himself after severe exertion. Having achieved his own preservation he looked round for some trace of life, and was surprised to find his own horse as the first object he should meet with in his strange and perilous situation.

As soon as morning dawned, Mr. Bond sought the place where he had effected his landing to help nine of his companions, who were nearing the sh.o.r.e on the raft. He climbed over the crags in search of a favourable place to approach, where he a.s.sisted them in gaining a footing. They were almost in a state of nudity, having been compelled to rush from their berths without waiting to attire themselves. They observed three others in a like condition, floating in by the aid of a spar, and sent up to heaven an earnest pet.i.tion that they might have the power to rescue them, and eagerly waited their chance. The three men had no control whatever over the spar; it was as much as they could do to preserve their hold. Washed about backwards and forwards, their peril seemed imminent; but at last a fortuitous wave carried them on to the rocks amid the rejoicings of their compatriots. Captain Wright and five others drifted towards Point Danger, where they encountered serious obstacles to their landing in the immense growths of seaweed, and the wall of surf that spanned the beach. In order to lighten the weight depending on the fragment of wreck that had sustained them until now, Wright separated from it, trusting to his own prowess to reach the sh.o.r.e. Several others followed his example, and all were successful in their endeavours; and after walking a little way up the country, they fell in with Captain Wright and his company. During the day they lighted on a fisherman's hut, but nothing was available there, so Mr.

Wright trudged off to a farm-house, about a couple of leagues distant, where he procured and forwarded articles of food to those he had left half-famished in the hut. The following day, waifs from the wreck being continually helped ash.o.r.e by those already landed, the number amounted to sixty-eight men, including eighteen sailors, and these all found temporary refuge at Captain Small's farm.

But coming back to the scene of the disaster, it will be remembered that the women and children were packed carefully in the cutter, under the superintendence of Mr. Richards, and ordered to keep within a restricted limit of the wreck. As it disappeared, the boat was rowed up to take in as many as possible, but then numbers more were left straining with wistful eyes after the heavily-freighted craft, as she slowly receded. It was with bitter pangs that Mr. Richards was obliged to refuse the help he could not give to the poor drowning wretches, for the boat was near swamping with the burden she already bore. Here, again, the breakers threatened to prevent a landing. Vast flakes of foam were hurled over the boat, as she fought her way against the tide.

Seeing, therefore, that the waves formed an invincible barrier at the point they were striving to reach, Mr. Richards drew back into the open, and signalling to the other boats to keep clear also, he rowed for several miles along the coast in hopes of finding a smoother sea, but to no purpose.

Break of day showed them, in easy distance, a schooner, which was followed by the indefatigable commander; but as they could not succeed in making themselves observed, and a favourable wind springing up, the schooner soon shot further ahead, and was lost to sight. Again, however, it appeared, and another effort was made to attract attention by elevating a shawl, which happily served to arrest its progress. The helpless company were received on board the "Lioness" of Cape Town, having suffered terribly during the twelve hours they had been tossing in their little open bark on the sea. They had neither eaten nor drunk of anything since their departure from the ship, and their depression of spirits had been considerably increased by the uncertain fate of their friends. Thirty-six men had already been taken up and provided for by Captain Ramsden and his wife, whose ready sympathy and care were warmly appreciated by the suffering men.

Mr. Richards and Mr. Renwick, being a.s.sured by the captain that he would await their return, started out again in the cutter to the scene of the wreck, hoping to find that some of the pa.s.sengers and crew had managed to survive, but no human form was to be seen in any direction, and they reluctantly retraced their journey. The number of souls saved by the schooner amounted in all to one hundred and sixteen. Many who had held on to floating timbers, lost their hold, as strength ebbed away. Others, who perseveringly clung till morning, seeing no prospect of help, struck out for land, which the greater part were enabled to reach, while the remainder either became powerless by long exposure and over-exertion, or were seized and devoured by the ravenous sharks. The purser of the "Birkenhead," with several companions, were drifting on one piece of wreck, when they observed a portion of a boat that was floating towards them, just under the surface of the water. They became filled with eager antic.i.p.ations. But release was not to come just yet, for the boat slowly pa.s.sed them, never coming within reach, and they were forced again to wait in hope of another opportunity.

Happily, this erelong presented itself, in the identical schooner which had preserved the lives of so many of their comrades.

Captain Small having promised to do his best for the comfort of the men who had thus unexpectedly invaded his farm, Captain Wright set out again for the sh.o.r.e, wandering along, for several days, in order that he might rescue any poor fellow that had perchance reached the land, in all probability to perish there without a.s.sistance. Here he was aided by the crew of a whale-boat, who coasted along with him inside the line of the sea-weed barrier. They came upon two men clinging to pieces of wood amongst the slippery weeds, just in time to save them from the jaws of death; and two others were discovered by Captain Wright, lying in holes of the rock, where they had crawled, too faint to move any farther. These four, owing to the kindness and attention of the captain, were shortly and fully restored.

Again, one or two officers returned to renew the quest, but their efforts were fruitless. Corpses they found washed ash.o.r.e for burial, but no more living men were seen. As soon as intelligence of the catastrophe was received at Cape Town, a steamer, "Rhadamanthus," was dispatched to take a survey of the spot. Captain Small was relieved by this vessel of the unfortunate men who had been thus necessarily quartered upon him; and they were conveyed to Simon's Bay, touching there on Monday, March 1st. The "Rhadamanthus" having thoroughly explored the coast where the wreck had occurred, was able to state with certainty that not one person living had been left behind of those who had formed the pa.s.sengers and crew of the "Birkenhead."

Captain Wright, an officer of capacity and experience, accustomed to the strictest forms of martial order and law, felt bound to say that the power of discipline in the troops, and their quick obedience to command, was greater than he had deemed possible, and excited the more astonishment as the men were princ.i.p.ally new to the service. Each one acted promptly on the judgment, and at the order of his superior officer, and not a sound of murmuring escaped a man until the waters engulphed him. "All officers received their orders, and had them carried out, as if the men were embarking instead of going to the bottom; there was only this difference, that I never saw any embarkation conducted with so little noise and confusion."

The "Birkenhead" started for Algoa Bay, bearing a freight of six hundred and thirty persons, out of which number, one hundred and ninety-two alone reached their destination. A court-martial was held for inquiry, when it was admitted that the vessel should have been kept farther out at sea, so as not to have incurred the dangers of that rocky coast; but appended to the verdict was the following remark--"If such be the case, the court still are not precluded from speaking with praise of the departed, for the coolness which they displayed in the moment of extreme peril, and for the laudable anxiety shown for the safety of the women and children, to the exclusion of all selfish considerations."

On the 26th October, 1859, was lost the "Royal Charter," in which four hundred and fifty-nine persons perished. This vessel was on a return voyage from Melbourne, Australia, and was conveying men and women, who had once been emigrants, back to their native land. Steering carefully round Cape Horn, the captain skilfully avoided those huge blocks of ice which carry destruction to the unwary sailor. Nearing the south, they encountered a violent storm, which the vessel outrode, receiving little or no damage. As the gale subsided, the spirits of the company rose, and all became intent upon getting as much enjoyment as possible out of a smooth pa.s.sage. Looking forward to a speedy disembarkation, valuable presents were given to Captain Taylor for his capable management of the vessel, and a.s.siduity in securing the comfort of the pa.s.sengers, and to the Rev. Mr. Hodge, who had performed the service of chaplain at their request. Several pa.s.sengers landed at Queenstown. The owners of the vessel having received news of its arrival, publicity was made to the announcement, so that many who were expecting long absent friends hastened to Liverpool for an early greeting.

The "Great Eastern" being at anchor in the waters off Holyhead, the pa.s.sengers of the "Royal Charter" pressed Captain Taylor to steer as closely as possible to the coast, in order to afford them a glimpse of its bulky dimensions. This he readily complied with, and they were soon skirting the rock-bound sh.o.r.es of Cardigan Bay.

As the day proceeded the wind increased; gathering such force, as darkness settled, that the pa.s.sengers became filled with nervous apprehensions. The ship's speed decreased suddenly. Almost touching the Isle of Anglesea, the captain endeavoured to procure a.s.sistance by the firing of rockets; but no one appears to have observed them.

Anchors were cast two hours before midnight, and the pa.s.sengers grew still more alarmed. A few hours more, and this magnificent vessel, the "Royal Charter," was a complete wreck.

Many of the pa.s.sengers had not attempted to take their usual repose.

The vessel dashing on to a rock brought every man on deck in an instant. Captain Withers was heard to exclaim, "Come, directly; we are all lost! I will take your child; come along." A heart-rending scene followed, last embraces were fervently given and returned, and dismal shrieks penetrated the atmosphere. The Rev. Mr. Hodge, calm in the "full a.s.surance of faith," lifted up an earnest pet.i.tion to Him who is mighty to save. Soon the noise of the water pouring on deck became audible to those below. Several of the officers endeavoured to inspire the women with courage and hope, saying that the vessel was only beaching herself on a sandy bed, but a few yards distant from the land.

Morning, however, failed to verify this statement: they were decidedly too far away from the sh.o.r.e to reach it without aid. A Welshman, looking seaward at early dawn, discovered the sad plight of the sinking ship, and hastily ran for help. During his absence the ship again collided, with greater force.

Eventually, an immense wave, breaking on deck, snapped the iron-work and timbers asunder, as though they had been brittle as gla.s.s. Many people, gathered in the centre of the vessel, were literally smashed.

The greater part escaped the agonies of a protracted struggle, owing to the floating timbers and numerous crags that abounded; many received from one or the other a fatal blow.

The men of the Welsh coast waded in as far as they dared, to help all who were thrown within their reach, and not a few were saved in this way. The bodies of those who had perished, being washed ash.o.r.e, were shrouded, and laid in rows in a neighbouring churchyard, awaiting recognition. Many harrowing tales are told of scenes witnessed there, as the anxious searchers discovered, in some mutilated remains, traces of a well-loved friend.

The "Royal Charter" was laden with gold to the amount of 70,000 pounds, the princ.i.p.al part of which was brought up by divers.

On the 11th January, 1866, the "London" foundered and sank, in the Bay of Biscay, carrying down with her two hundred and thirty-six people.

Sailing from Gravesend, she was making her way to Australia. At starting, many indications were noted of foul weather ahead. The sea became so rough that, on approaching the Nore, anchors were cast; but the weather clearing, and prospects generally brightening, an early opportunity was taken for clearing the Channel. The Bay of Biscay was reached on Monday, where the vessel, being badly constructed, exhibited many extraordinary freaks, and shipped a vast quant.i.ty of water. One of the mariners observed, "She frightens me; I do not know what to make of her."

Serious damage being done by the heavy seas that continually washed over the vessel, it was thought wise to return. The force of the winds increasing caused the vessel to rear over, first on one side, and then on the other, sucking up a vast quant.i.ty of water each time. Bedding, wearing apparel, food, and fruit, were floating together in strange confusion. All the men were told to cl.u.s.ter on the p.o.o.p, to ease the ship, the tumultuously-upheaving waves threatening instant submersion.

Many people congregated in the cuddy, listening to the fervent exhortations of the Rev. Mr. Draper. Devout and earnest prayers were offered by this good man, which never failed to soothe and strengthen the most timid and distressed. The ladies seconded the men in all their efforts to keep the vessel under control. When it became evident that nothing could save her, the captain's announcement of the fact was received with calmness and resignation. Beyond a smothered sob, or a heart-broken--"Oh, pray with me, Mr. Draper!" no audible sound rose above the noise of the storm. Families grouped themselves together, enfolding each other in a last loving embrace. Men were discovered, in various parts of the ship, with their Bibles open.

Some of the crew were observed tapping casks of grog, several being intoxicated. The captain instantly came to them, and implored them to prepare for death in a better way than that.

At two o'clock P.M., on the 11th January, several of the sailors resolved upon attempting to launch a small boat, in which to make their escape from the vessel. The endeavour was attended with considerable danger, and the men knew it. Compa.s.ses, oars, and other useful articles, were lowered with the boat, and many of the pa.s.sengers eagerly sought this one remaining chance. A young lady of remarkable beauty promised to give 500 pounds to whoever would save her. Another, leaning over the vessel, beseechingly urged a young man to rescue her.

This he promised to do if she would leap into the boat; but fear restrained her, and she was unwillingly left behind.

A description of the sinking of the vessel, given by an eye-witness, is as follows:--"The sun just shone out at that time, which made the scene appear worse to me. I thought dark and gloom more suitable for such a sad moment, and most in keeping with the feelings of those on board.

The foresail was still standing, also half of the maintopsail. The mizen yards were swinging about, not braced; the wreck of the foretopmast still hanging and swinging to and fro; the gangways knocked out; the bulwarks all standing as good as when she left the docks. The stern very low in the water, the bows pretty well out of it, so that we could see the red-painted bottom, or coloured iron by rust; the jibboom gone. Soon we ran down in the trough of a large sea, and were hid from sight of her. When we came up, we could see she had changed her position very much; we could not see the after-part of the vessel--whether under water, or hid by a sea, I cannot tell; her bows were high out of the water; and by the pitch or rake of the mast, we could see that she was at an angle of about forty-five degrees. Soon another wave came, and we ran down in the trough of another sea; when we came up, there was nothing to be seen of the 'London.'"

On the 7th September, 1870, foundered the "Captain" off Cape Finisterre, in which five hundred lives were sacrificed.

The "Captain" was built for the purpose of ill.u.s.trating a new principle, that of the modern turret, and said to surpa.s.s the "Monarch," as yet considered the nearest approach to perfection in shipbuilding.

On the 6th of September, 1870, several vessels of the British fleet were cruising together off the coast of Spain, the "Captain" being amongst the number. Although the clouds to the west looked sombre and heavy, there was no apparent signs of a storm; but during the night the barometer fell and the winds arose. The "Captain" was observed by the crew of the "Lord Warden," following a north-west pa.s.sage. A white squall battled for a couple of hours with the vessels, damaging each to a considerable extent. When morning dawned, the "Captain" was missed.

It was supposed, however, that she had merely sailed out of sight, but daylight showed the awful fact that the ship had gone down. Portions of wreck were seen floating on the tide, and recognised as having belonged to the "Captain."

The details of the sad event became known when the few survivors reached England. Captain Burgoyne was on deck when the catastrophe happened, remaining there as the night grew stormy. The middle watch was mustered duly at midnight, and the former one retired. Immediately after a wave, curling over the vessel, flooded her decks and turned her completely on her side. The next instant, and the sails went under, nothing but the ship's keel being visible. The men of the watch, after recovering the shock of the sudden immersion, perceiving a life-boat drifting keel upward, instantly made for her. By means of this, many were enabled to support themselves for a considerable time. After floating a while in this way, a boat was observed coming towards them, in which were seated a couple of men. As soon as it was within reach most of the men sprang gratefully in; but before Captain Burgoyne and a seaman, named Heard, had time to leap, their chance was gone--a huge wave washing the boat apart.

One amongst the number of the saved said that the men were literally carried wholesale from the decks by the huge seas that swept over them.

A man, named Hirst, after being carried down with the vessel, rose and succeeded in grasping a piece of the wreck, to which he lashed himself with a handkerchief. Drifting along in this manner he came across the boat and its unfortunate occupants, who speedily hauled him in.

A memorial window may now be seen in Westminster Abbey, to the five hundred men who perished thus in their country's service.

More recently still was the wreck of the "Northfleet," off Dungeness, on the 22nd of January, 1873, run down, while lying at anchor, by the carelessness of a foreign sea captain. Many accounts of the sad event, elicited from the survivors, were given in the journals of that date.

An abridged copy of one is as follows:--

"The pilot pa.s.sed the word to drop anchor off Dungeness. Here we lay snug enough, and at eight o'clock the watch was set, Frank Sealove and John Gunstaveson being on deck, and on the watch. They died doing their duty. I went down to my berth, and was soon fast asleep. I don't know how long I had slept, when I was nearly shaken out of my hammock by a fearful crashing or a staggering over the ship. Before I knew where I was--being awoke so suddenly--I heard the boatswain sing out, 'All hands on deck to the pumps.' I was not long in jumping into my boots I can tell yon, and all in the forecastle ran upstairs pell-mell. When we got there, we could not see much, for the night was dark, but there was light enough to see a half-dressed crowd come rushing madly up from the steerage pa.s.senger berths, and you didn't want any light to hear the shrieks of the women and the crying of the children.

"There was a terrible panic I can tell you, amongst the strong, rough men, when it became apparent that the vessel was sinking. To tell the truth, there was that much confusion on board that I really did not know what was going to be done. By this time about a dozen women had got on to the deck. I could hear the captain's voice, now and then, above the praying and crying, but I don't know that any one was paying any attention to him. In the midst of the din and confusion the captain's wife was being lowered into the boat on the starboard side.

She had been aroused by her husband, who a.s.sisted her to dress, and as a precaution against sinking she put on a cork belt. As she was descending, the Captain waved his hands, and said, 'Good-bye, my dear, good-bye;' and his wife replied, 'Good-bye, my love; I don't expect to see you any more.' One poor fellow who jumped with me on to the tops of the pile of boats, said, 'My last minute's come; if you should live to get ash.o.r.e tell mother I was thinking of her when I went down.'

'All right, old chap,' I said, 'I will; it I should go and you should get ash.o.r.e, tell my mother likewise that my last thought was of her.'