Part 6

'One of those awful calamities which carry mourning and desolation to hundreds of hearths, hearts, and homes--which send a pang not only through the bosoms of bereaved relatives, but cast a gloom over every thoughtful and feeling mind, has just visited us in the wreck and total loss of a noble steamer, the "Royal Charter," which perished with more than 400 souls, on the Welsh coast, on the night of Tuesday last. There are circumstances which add largely to the melancholy facts, so far as they are yet known of this dreadful disaster. The stately steam-ship, with her rich freight and her numerous passengers, had gallantly ploughed the waters of the broad Pacific and breasted the waves of the rude Atlantic; she had sighted the noble haven of Queenstown; and there, fondly dreaming the perils of the deep were past, her joyful passengers had voted a testimonial of gratitude to the commander of the gallant ship, who had so far safely brought them from their far port of homeward departure at the antipodes. Among these 450 passengers and crew, how many anxious hearts already in anticipation embraced expectant kindred and friends!--how many--the "battle of life" fought out successfully, and competency gained--looked for that native shore, which they were only to see with despairing eyes in their death-struggle, as the haven of a peaceful life, to be closed by a calm death among those they loved best, in the land of their birth! We can well imagine the buoyant spirits of the young, and the calmer joy of the old, at the near prospect of the happy close of their long sojourn on the wide waters. But He, in whose hands are the issues of life and death, willed otherwise. The ship left the shores of Ireland on Monday last, all well; on Tuesday a gale arose, which towards night became a tempest of surpassing violence. The doomed vessel was driven towards the Welsh coast, and there her fate was sealed. There is at present no reason to suppose that in this sad disaster any want of precaution; any undue effort to effect a speedy passage by running a dangerous course; any miscalculation of rate of sailing, deviation of compass, or other neglect or accident, contributed to the lamentable catastrophe. It seems to have been one of those calamities beyond human foresight or wisdom to avert, to which we must bow the head in silent resignation, not, however, without thoughtful consideration as to whether human means might not have mitigated the sufferings of the wrecked, or diminished the loss of life. We are as yet without sufficient data to know whether a more efficient life-boat service at this part of the coast, a supply of life-lines, coast-mortars, &c., at the principal places near Moelfra, at Beaumaris, Penmanmawr, might not have enabled us to add to the scant list of the rescued sufferers. We repeat, we are as yet without details, and write merely in presence of an overwhelming calamity, hopeful that so solemn a warning to be prepared may have its effect, while yet the grief is new, of producing an increased energy in doing all that may be done by liberality and skill to save the lives of our brave seamen, and of those who "go down into the great waters." The steamship "Royal Charter," the loss of which has given occasion for these remarks, was a nearly new and splendid screw steamer. She had on freight 79,000 ounces of gold, valued at 316,000_l._, besides a large amount of gold and valuables belonging to her 450 passengers and crew. She sailed from Melbourne on the 26th of August, with 60 cabin passengers, ten of whom are saved, and ten others, we are happy to say, are reported as having been landed at Queenstown. Of the seamen 25 survive, thus leaving nearly 400 souls, including Captain Taylor and all the officers of the ill-fated ship, sharers in her sad fate.'

The _Standard_ touches on the event with its usual calmness of utterance:--

'But as the approach to Liverpool was more alive with shipping, of course the most terrible of the disasters were to be expected off the coast of Wales; and there has seldom been recorded a more awful wreck than that of the "Royal Charter" in Red Wharf Bay, near Bangor. The "Royal Charter," a very splendid vessel, left Melbourne on the 26th of August, having on board about five hundred souls, and carrying seventy-five thousand ounces of gold. The power of the vessel may be concluded from the fact that she made Cork Harbour in less than two months. At this port some ten or a dozen of the passengers had the fortune to quit her, and she proceeded on her way to Liverpool as far as the Welsh coast, where she was overtaken by the terrible storm of Wednesday morning, and utterly lost in a wild bay some seven miles to the north-west of Beaumaris, and about three miles west of Puffin Island, in Anglesea. The circumstances are surrounded with unusual suspense and terror, for the railway has been at several points washed away, the embankment thrown down, and the action of the telegraph stopped. We are, in fact, acquainted with only the details of the distressing disaster which we have presented yesterday, and present elsewhere to-day. The rapidity of the voyage had led the passengers to offer to unfortunate Captain Taylor a testimonial, and everything in the shape of danger was taken naturally to be at an end when the unfortunate ship went down in sight of her port.'

The _Telegraph_ proposes the speedy exaltation of the sailor who swam ashore with the rope:--

'The passengers were crowded in the saloon, where the scene was of the most heartrending description. Children and parents, husbands and wives, were clinging to each other in despairing embraces. The captain endeavoured, hoping against hope, to reassure those under his charge. Mr. Hodge, a missionary from New Zealand, did his best to administer religious consolation, but the victory was on that black Wednesday morning with the demon of the storm. A succession of tremendous waves swung the "Royal Charter" from the rocks, and she parted, first amidships and then longitudinally, and was soon but a mass of shapeless spars, eddying about in a briny maelstrom. All the officers, save, as we mentioned yesterday, the carpenter and a boatswain's mate, perished. Captain Taylor was the last man seen alive on board. A few of the crew saved themselves; the remainder were hurled upon the rocks, and suffered a speedy but agonizing death. It is some miserable consolation, however, to record that between thirty and forty of the passengers and seamen were enabled to save their lives by means of the hawser, rigged at the peril of his life by the man described as a Negro. If this hero, foreigner and civilian as he may be, does not deserve the Order of Valour, Horatio Nelson was a coward, and Bayard was false and craven.'

The _Observer_ has a leader which, dealing with what may be termed the technics of the matter, stands out from the mass of articles which have appeared in the weekly papers:--

'The disastrous wreck of the "Royal Charter" is one of those calamities that come upon us now and then, at intervals, to remind us of the insignificance of man and his grandest works, when opposed to the mighty forces of Nature. There has seldom happened such an amount of destruction in one single storm of short duration as was effected amongst the shipping upon the coasts of this island on Tuesday night; but the list of mortality in that terrible conflict with the elements is swollen to a lamentable extent by the four hundred and sixty souls who perished at that one fell swoop. This wreck is another illustration of the well-marked fact that all the perils of long voyages across the broad ocean are little in comparison with those that beset the mariner in leaving or approaching these shores. The "Royal Charter" was a noble specimen of the clippers employed in our great Australian trade, and had made several prosperous voyages, of which the last, if it had ended happily, would have been the most remarkable for rapidity. Iron built, supplied with all the improvements of modern shipbuilding, aided with the auxiliary power of steam, and manned with a sufficient crew, well officered and commanded, it would have seemed almost out of the range of probability that such a ship should have been drifted upon a lee shore in a familiar locality by a gradually increasing storm, and there shattered to fragments, and engulfed, with well nigh all her human freight, within a few hours' sail of her own port. In reading the account of this wreck we cannot escape the conviction that the possession of auxiliary steam power, which should have been her safety, was really the cause of the "Royal Charter's" loss. This vessel was of nearly 3,000 tons burden. The engines by which her screw propeller was worked were only of 300' [only of 200] 'horse power. Such a power was enough for working a vessel over the tropical calms, or aiding her progress now and then in light winds, but it was a treacherous reliance in such a position as she was allowed to get into on Tuesday evening. It was useless for contending against the furious pressure of the hurricane that was surely driving her upon the jagged rocks of Dulas Bay, whilst the structure of the ship was greatly weakened by the dead weight of the engines and the open spaces necessary to contain them.

'Captain Taylor was evidently an able and courageous seaman. He animated all his officers and crew to maintain discipline and continue their exertions to the latest moment, and it is with no desire to suggest blame that we express the belief that but for relying on the power of his screw to keep the vessel off, he would never have been in the position he was on that fatal Tuesday evening, when on a rugged lee shore he was losing precious hours endeavouring to procure a pilot. Either a safe port or the open sea were the only situations that could give security in a hurricane like that of Tuesday. There seemed to be a fatality attending the last voyage of the ill-fated ship that was to pursue her crew and passengers to the extremity of destruction, for the rapidity of her passage brought her upon the most perilous part of our coast that she had to near, just at the outbreak of the most violent storm we have experienced for very many years, and after striking upon the shore, her hull succumbed to the fury of the waves, and became rent and shattered almost in a moment, just as a communication had been established, by means of the hawser passed to the shore, that promised the fairest chance of saving the lives of all on board. The gallant action of the seaman who performed this feat, all but too late as it proved to be, was the means of saving many of the thirty-nine, who were all that escaped out of near five hundred.

'The records of shipwrecks upon the coast of Great Britain have been carefully compiled for some years past, and the annual number of vessels totally lost is known to range from 1000 to 1200. Of these, however, a very large proportion are small craft, coasting traders, and colliers, whose short voyages generally keep them in dangerous proximity to the shore, and whose crews are often insufficient for working them successfully out of a sudden emergency. This year, there will be a terrible excess over the average losses. The destruction of vessels in the night between Tuesday and Wednesday amounts, according to what is already known, to hundreds; whilst the loss of life by the "Royal Charter," which, though the greatest, is only one amongst a numerous list of such losses, will vastly increase the average mortality. The sacrifices even of human life, demanded and paid in the pursuit of our peaceful commerce, are not less appalling sometimes than those which render war terrible. This storm gives us a longer list of lives lost in a few hours on the English coast than has been the result of many a mighty battle.'

Many other articles have appeared in the English journals; but those here given will speak for the scope and tone of them all. British sympathy was never perhaps more intensely quickened than it has been by this unparalleled marine disaster. It is the topic of every tongue. From almost every pulpit the subject was dwelt upon last Sunday. Mr. Binney, who narrowly escaped coming home in the ship, preached with pathetic power on the melancholy event of the week. Prayer was put up for his miraculous preservation. Many good men have gone, but the blow to Both Worlds--the Old and the New--would have been severe indeed if the 'old man eloquent' had perished.

ADDENDA.

LIST OF STEERAGE PASSENGERS.

THE following list of steerage passengers is supplied by Mr. Lynch, of Cashel, who was one of the fortunate passengers who landed at Queenstown. The list is from memory:--

'Mr. Holland, wife and three children; had been in India, and was in the volunteer corps. Two brothers named Hogarth, from Scotland; one was married, and had a little boy about eight years old. Mr. and Mrs. Lyons, from London, had two sons, one about ten and the other about twelve. Mr. Lyons was a watchmaker. Mrs. Atkey, somewhere near London, had a girl about sixteen. Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, from Bruff, county Limerick, and three children. Mrs. Willis and two children, one a little boy about nine and a girl eleven years, English. Mr. Faulkner and little girl about six years old. Mr. Barrett, belonged to the medical profession, and was employed to take care of Mr. Henry, a lunatic, English. A young man, native of Dublin, about twenty-six, named Kelly, dark foxy hair, worked at Prarhan, near Melbourne, brickmaking. A musician, named Harris, an Irishman, but was going to see his brother to London, or some of his friends, age about twenty-eight, foxy whiskers and hair, low size, but stout and smart looking. Mr. Wickett, another musician, about thirty, dark complexion, and dark hair. George Taylor, age about forty-five, was going to Belfast, and went out to Melbourne as doctor in the "Ben Nevis," and was only just recovering from colonial fever; was but a few months in Australia. Henry Laughton, from some part of Lincolnshire, was going home to his wife and children, and was seven years in the colony: he had a son ten years old, who wrote him a letter to come home, and it was signed John Hudson Laughton. William J. Green, London; had been some time in South Australia. Edward Allen, London, red hair, and about thirty years old; was a digger. A fine-looking young man named Bishop, about twenty-five years old, from London. Two brothers named Roe, English. Peter and John Morton, Cornwall, England. Bakewell, a draper, about twenty; tall, and light hair. I think he was from London. A most respectable man, named Wade; tall and slight make, with dark hair, and was some time at the Ovens Diggings; English, age about forty.

'A respectable man named Thompson; went out in the "Royal Charter," obtained a situation in Melbourne, and was coming home for the purpose of bringing out his family. Mr. Thompson, aged about fifty; a stout-looking man, an engineer; had left his wife and family in Hobart Town, Tasmania. James Wyatt, a fine stout-looking young man, age about twenty-eight, dark complexion and dark hair, about six feet high; a native of England, and had been at sea before. An Irishman, named Cavanagh, low sized, but very stout; light hair, and age about thirty. I think he was from the county Limerick, but am not certain; had been in America, and had been sailoring for some time, and worked in a steamer that sailed between Melbourne and Launceston, Tasmania. An Englishman named Cowley, age about thirty-five. A stout-looking man named Grice, aged about forty-five. An old man and his son, from about Nenagh; I think their name was Faba. Charles Conway, from some part of England, age about twenty-eight, and was a working jeweller; was of low size and slight make, with light hair. William Ford, age about twenty-five, dark complexion and dark hair, of low size and slight make, and was a smart intelligent fellow; I think he was from London, or some part of England, and was working at the Ovens Diggings for some time. A young man named Purdy, a blacksmith, native of England; of low size, age about twenty-five, dark complexion. Joseph Moss, London, a Jew, age about forty-five; was in Australia before, and sailed in the "Kent." Mr. Davis, a Jew, low size, dark hair, age about forty-three. Mr. Rea was going to London, and had been some time in New Zealand, spoke French and English, age about forty, with thin features. A low size, thin-faced man, named Jones, age about forty, very much pock-marked. An old man, over fifty, low size, stout make, worked in a foundry in Castlemaine, was going home for his family. I wrote a direction on two cards for him, one was Dowles and the other Abergavenny; these were to put on his boxes or luggage. I think he worked for Mr. Varian, Castlemaine, and was an Englishman. John Tyrrel, age about twenty-three, dark hair; was a native of some part of England. An Englishman named Jacob. George Sieter, a German, age thirty. Francis Weber, German, age twenty-six. A young man named Fowler, a German, age twenty-one. A young man named Hughes. Mr. James P. O'Dowd, of Dublin, who had made several voyages in the ill-fated vessel.'

This list is given with all its imperfections, because the names of steerage passengers are not usually published in the colonial newspapers.

DR. SCORESBY ON THE 'ROYAL CHARTER.'

IT will be recollected that the late Dr. Scoresby--who made himself so great a name in the history of Arctic discovery--went round the world in the 'Royal Charter' in order to study the deviation of compasses in iron ships. The fine old sailor in his posthumous work[D] thus speaks of the ship and her performances:--

[D] 'Journal of a Voyage to Australia and Round the World, for Magnetical Research.'

'Now, as to the action and performance of the "Royal Charter" under this hard gale and mighty disturbance of the waters, the experience we again derived was truly astonishing, and, compared with all my previous experience, what I should have deemed impossible; for by far the greatest portion of the time, I should say four minutes out of five, we had no observable motion, the ship being steady, quiet, and often apparently absolutely still. A minute or two would often pass whilst these heavy waves were rolling harmlessly forward, and but just raising in a slight degree the stem and alternately depressing it, when we might have seemed to be sailing in a sea of extreme calmness in the finest weather. In these intervals of dead quiet, no woodwork, joint, or junction of iron and timber, emitted an audible sound--no creaking was heard,--and at night there was sometimes a quiet most striking in its stillness. Of cases of this perfect quiet in time of heavy sea, squalls, and storm, I frequently noted intervals of seven and eight seconds, of ten to twelve, sometimes twenty up to twenty-four seconds, where there was not motion sufficient to break a silence of repose like that of dock or harbour. Hence, notwithstanding the lurches on rolling, extending sometimes to 16° or 20° on one side, and perhaps once in several hours to 30°--the maximum never exceeded up to this time,--a rolling inseparable from a progress directly before the wind, in difficult steering and with squared yards,--yet most occupations below, while ladies as well as others, went on as usual; and, when the state of the decks as to dryness would admit, exercise on the deck likewise. Thus when the waves were at the highest--when elevations of forty feet and upwards were rolling around and beneath the ship--Mrs. Scoresby accompanied me on deck for exercise, and to view, in an instant of bright sunshine, the sublime scenes around, and found no difficulty in walking the poop deck, which was unencumbered and dry. She accompanied me, too, along the gangways extending from the poop to the deck-house, and from thence to the broad and spacious forecastle up to the very bitts, within a few feet of the stem,--and even to this extent, and along a range of three hundred and twenty feet of deck and platform, the progress was perfectly easy, and at the time the whole extent was clean (unusually so, almost to whiteness), and dry from end to end.

'Again, I may remark, that our meals were always served up to the minute, in the handsome services, covers, and appendages before noticed. Everything cooked with the same effectiveness and completeness in storm as in calm: fresh provisions, roasted and boiled, in fowls, mutton, pork, etc., unfailing and abundant,--pastry, puddings, and the variety of niceties, for each particular course, always ample and good of their kind; so that in speaking of the servants and cooks as part of the ship, and of the ship as a thing or creature of life, I may say that the "Royal Charter" had no consciousness of bad weather, and made no signs of complaining in storms or heavy seas. During a heavy squall, for instance, at dinner-time on this day--a fierce snow-storm for a period, the wind blowing tremendously--no effect whatever was produced on the comfort of those who sat at table; and a wine-glass I had emptied stood for many minutes entirely unsupported betwixt the protecting bars of the table, and it was only liable to be disturbed by some particular lurch which might happen to occur. Again, in regard to pitching and "sending," the action of the ship was equally remarkable, both for the easiness of the motion and the smallness of the inclination of the keel from the horizontal level. A forty-feet wave, on its entrance below the stern or counter of the ship, whilst the bow was exactly in the lowest or most depressed portion betwixt crest and crest, should raise the stern, as from the simplest view of the case it might seem, to at least its own elevation, or give an angle of inclination to the keel of about 7°; but no such measure of pitching or "sending" motion was ever observed--probably not above half as much. For, in no instance in scudding, did I ever observe the bow of the ship plunge nor the stern rise to anything like the position apparently due to the elevation of the passing waves. The action, indeed, was obviously of this nature; from the admirable adjustment of the ship's _lines_ of construction, forward and aft, the loftiest wave, on its reaching the stern-post below, exerts its lifting tendency, not abruptly or suddenly, as where the _quarters_ are heavy and the _run_ thick, but very gradually, so that the disturbing force, passing beyond the place of greatest influence before its due action is realized, becomes modified and reduced.