The fatigues which the people had previously undergone, added to what they now endured, proved too overpowering to many of their number; several became delirious; their strength was exhausted, and they could hold on no longer. Their afflictions were still further aggravated by an apprehension that the wind, veering more to the north, would raise the sea to their present situation, in which case a single wave would have swept them all into oblivion.
The hardships which the crew had already suffered were sufficient to terminate existence, and many had met with deplorable accidents. One in particular, while crossing the channel between the rocks at an unsuitable time, was dashed against them so as to be nearly scalped, and exhibited a dreadful spectacle to his companions. He lingered out the night, and next morning expired. The more fortunate survivors were but ill prepared to meet the terrible effects of famine; their strength enfeebled, their bodies unsheltered and abandoned by hope. Nor were they less alarmed for the fate of their boat. The storm came on before she could have reached the intended island, and on her safety their own depended. But the scene which daylight presented was still more deplorable. The survivors beheld the corpses of their departed shipmates, and some still in the agonies of death. They were themselves altogether exhausted, from the sea all night breaking over them, and the inclemency of the weather, which was such, that many, among whom was the carpenter, perished from excessive cold.
But this unfortunate crew had now to suffer a mortification, and to witness an instance of inhumanity, which leaves an eternal stain of infamy on those who merit the reproach.—Soon after day broke, they observed a vessel with all sail set, coming down before the wind, steering directly for the rock. They made every possible signal of distress which their feeble condition admitted, nor without effect, for they were at last seen by the vessel, which bore to and hoisted out her boat. The joy which this occasioned may be easily conceived, for nothing short of immediate relief was anticipated; and they hastily made preparation for rafts to carry them through the surf, confident that the boat was provided with whatever might administer to their necessities. Approaching still nearer, she came within pistol-shot, full of men dressed in the European fashion, who after having gazed at them a few minutes, the person who steered, waved his hat to them and then rowed off to his ship. The pain of the shipwrecked people at this barbarous proceeding was acute, and heightened even more by beholding the stranger vessel employed the whole day in taking up the floating remains of that less fortunate one which had so lately borne them.
Perhaps the abandoned wretches guilty of so unfeeling an act may one day be disclosed, and it would surely excite little compassion to learn that they suffered that retribution which such inhuman conduct merits. That people dressed in the habit of Englishmen, though belonging to a different nation, could take advantage of misery instead of relieving it, will scarce seem creditable at the present day, were not some instances of a similar nature related elsewhere than in these volumes.
After this cruel disappointment, and bestowing an anathema which the barbarity of the strangers deserved, the thoughts of the people were, during the remainder of the day, directed towards the return of the boat; and being disappointed there also, their dread that she had been lost was only further confirmed. They began to yield to despondency, and had the gloomy prospect of certain death before them. Thirst then became intolerable; and in spite of being warned against it by instances of the terrific effects ensuing, some in desperation resorted to salt water. Their companions had soon the grief of learning what they would experience by following their example; in a few hours raging madness followed, and nature could struggle no longer.
Another awful night was to be passed, yet the weather being considerably more moderate, the sufferers entertained hopes that it would be less disastrous than the one preceding; and to preserve themselves from the cold, they crowded close together and covered themselves with their few remaining rags. But the ravings of their comrades who had drank salt water were truly horrible; all endeavors to quiet them were ineffectual, and the power of sleep lost its influence. In the middle of the night they were unexpectedly hailed by the crew of the whale-boat; but the only object of the people on the rock was water; they cried out to their shipmates for it, though in vain. Earthen vessels only could have been procured, and these would not bear being conveyed through the surf. The coxswain then said they should be taken off the rock by a fishing vessel in the morning, and with this assurance they were forced to be content. It was some consolation to know that the boat was safe, and that relief had so far been obtained.
All the people anxiously expected morning, and, for the first time since being on the rock, the sun cheered them with its rays. Still the fourth morning came and no tidings either of the boat or vessel. The anxiety of the people increased, for inevitable death from famine, was staring them in the face. What were they to do for self-preservation? The misery and hunger which they endured, were extreme; they were not ignorant of the means whereby other unfortunate mariners in the like situation had protracted life, yet they viewed them with disgust. Still when they had no alternative, they considered their urgent necessities and found them affording some excuse. Offering prayers to Heaven for forgiveness of the sinful act, they selected a young man who had died the preceding night, and ventured to appease their hunger with human flesh.
Whether the people were relieved is uncertain, for towards evening death had made hasty strides among them, and many brave men drooped under their hardships. Among these were the captain and first lieutenant, two meritorious officers: and the sullen silence now preserved by the survivors, shewed the state of their internal feelings. Captain Palmer was in the 26th year of his age; amidst his endeavors to comfort those under his command, his companions in misfortune, his personal injuries were borne with patience and resignation, and no murmurs escaped his lips; his virtuous life was prematurely closed by the overwhelming severities of the lamentable catastrophe he had shared.
During the course of another tedious night, many suggested the possibility of constructing a raft which might carry the survivors to Cerigotto; and the wind being favorable, might enable them to reach that island. At all events, attempting this seemed preferable to remaining on the rock to expire of hunger and thirst. Accordingly, at daylight they prepared to put their plan in execution. A number of the larger spars were lashed together, and sanguine hopes of success entertained. At length the moment of launching the raft arrived, but it was only to distress the people with new disappointments, for a few moments sufficed for the destruction of a work on which the strongest of the party had been occupied hours. Several from this unexpected failure became still more desperate, and five resolved to trust themselves on a few small spars slightly lashed together, and on which they had scarce room to stand. Bidding their companions adieu, they launched out into the sea, where they were speedily carried away by unknown currents, and vanished forever from sight.
Towards the same afternoon, the people were again rejoiced by the sight of the whale-boat, and the coxswain told them that he had experienced great difficulty in prevailing on the Greek fishermen of Cerigotto to venture in their boats, from dread of the weather. Neither would they permit him to take them unaccompanied by themselves; he regretted what his comrades had endured, and his grief at not being able yet to relieve them, but encouraged them with hopes, if the weather remained fine, that next day the boats might come. While the coxswain spoke this, twelve or fourteen men imprudently plunged from the rock into the sea, and very nearly reached the boat. Two indeed, got so far as to be taken in, one was drowned and the rest providentially recovered their former station. Those who thus escaped could not but be envied by their companions, while they reproached the indiscretion of the others, who, had they reached the boat, would without all doubt have sunk her, and thus unwittingly consigned the whole to irremediable destruction.