When the alarm and confusion had somewhat subsided, it first began to be known that the shock had been occasioned by the explosion of the Amphion. Several bodies and mangled remains were picked up by the boats in Hamoaze; and their alacrity on this occasion was particularly remarked and highly commended. The few who remained alive of the crew were conveyed, in a mangled state, to the Royal Hospital. As the frigate was originally manned from Plymouth the friends and relations of her unfortunate ship’s company mostly lived in the neighborhood. It is dreadful to relate what a scene took place—arms, legs and lifeless trunks, mangled and disfigured by gunpowder, were collected and deposited at the hospital, having been brought in sacks to be owned. Bodies still living, some with the loss of limbs, others having expired as they were being conveyed thither; men, women and children, whose sons, husbands and fathers were among the unhappy number, flocking round the gates, intreating admittance. During the first evening nothing was ascertained concerning the cause of this event, though numerous reports were instantly circulated. The few survivors, who, by the following day, had, in some degree regained the use of their senses, could not give the least account. One man who was brought alive to the Royal Hospital, died before night, another before the following morning; the boatswain and one of the sailors appeared likely, with great care, to do well.—Three or four men who were at work in the tops, were blown up with them and falling into the water, were picked up with very little hurt. These, with the two before mentioned, and one of the sailors’ wives, were supposed to be the only survivors, besides the captain and two of the lieutenants.
The following particulars were, however, collected from the examination of several persons before Sir Richard King, the port-admiral, and the information procured from those, who saw the explosion from the Dock.
The first person known to have observed any thing was a young midshipman in the Cambridge guard-ship, lying not far distant from the place where the Amphion blew up; who having a great desire to observe every thing relative to a profession into which he had just entered, was looking through a glass at the frigate, as she lay along side of the sheer-hulk, and was taking in her bowsprit. She was lashed to the hulk; and the Yarmouth, an old receiving ship, was lying on the opposite side, quite close to her, and both within a few yards of the Dock-yard jetty. The midshipman said, that the Amphion suddenly appeared to rise altogether upright from the surface of the water, until he nearly saw her keel; the explosion then succeeded; the masts seemed to be forced up into the air, and the hull instantly to sink. All this passed in the space of two minutes.
The man who stood at the Dock-yard stairs, said, that the first he heard of it was a kind of hissing noise, and then followed the explosion, when he beheld the masts blown up into the air. It was very strongly reported that several windows were broken in the Dock by the explosion, and that in the Dock-yard much mischief was done by the Amphion’s guns going off when she blew up; but though the shock was felt as far off as Plymouth, and at Stone-house, enough to shake the windows, yet it is a wonderful and miraculous fact, that surrounded as she was in the harbor, with ships close along side of the jetty, and lashed to another vessel, no damage was done to any thing but herself. It is dreadful to reflect, that owing to their intention of putting to sea the next day, there were nearly one hundred men, women and children, more than her complement on board, taking leave of their friends, besides the company who were at two dinners given in the ship, one of which was by the captain.
Captain Israel Pellow, and Captain William Swaffield, of his Majesty’s ship Overyssel, who was at dinner with him and the first lieutenant, were drinking their wine; when the first explosion threw them off their seats, and struck them against the carlings of the upper deck, so as to stun them. Captain Pellow, however, had sufficient presence of mind to fly to the cabin windows, and seeing the two hawsers, one slack in the bit and the other taut, threw himself with an amazing leap, which he afterwards said, nothing but his sense of danger could have enabled him to take, upon the latter, and by that means saved himself from the general destruction, though his face had been badly cut against the carlings, when he was thrown from his seat. The first lieutenant saved himself in the same manner, by jumping out of the window, and by being also a remarkable good swimmer; but Captain Swaffield, being, as it was supposed, more stunned, did not escape.—His body was found on the twenty-second of October, with his skull fractured, appearing to have been crushed between the sides of two vessels.
The centinel at the cabin door happened to be looking at his watch; how he escaped no one can tell, not even himself. He was, however, brought on shore, and but little hurt; the first thing he felt was, that his watch was dashed out of his hands, after which he was no longer sensible of what happened to him. The boatswain was standing on the cat-head, the bowsprit had been stepped for three hours; the gammoning and every thing on; and he was directing the men in rigging out the jib-boom, when suddenly he felt himself driven upwards and fell into the sea. He then perceived that he was entangled in the rigging, and had some trouble to get clear, when being taken up by a boat belonging to one of the men of war, they found that his arm was broken. One of the surviving seamen declared to an officer of rank, that he was preserved in the following truly astonishing manner:—He was below at the time the Amphion blew up, and went to the bottom of the ship, he recollected that he had a knife in his pocket, and taking it out, cut his way through the companion of the gun-room, which was already shattered with the explosion; then letting himself up to the surface of the water, he swam unhurt to the shore. He shewed his knife to the officer, and declared he had been under water full five minutes.
It was likewise said, that one of the sailors’ wives had a young child in her arms; the fright of the shock made her take such fast hold of it, that though the upper part of her body alone remained, the child was found alive locked fast in her arms, and likely to do well.
Mr. Spry, an auctioneer, who had long lived in great respectability at Dock, with his son and god-son, had gone on board to visit a friend, and were all lost.
About half an hour before the frigate blew up, one of her lieutenants, and Lieutenant Campbell of the marines and some of the men got into the boat at the dock-yard stairs, and went off to the ship. Lieutenant Campbell had some business to transact at the Marine barracks in the morning, and continuing there some time, was engaged by the officers to stay to dinner and spend the evening with them. Some persons, however, who had, in the interval, come from the Amphion, informed Lieutenant Campbell that there were some letters on board for him. As they were some which he was extremely anxious to receive, he left the barracks about half an hour before dinner to fetch them, intending to return immediately; but while he was on board the ship blew up.—He was a young man universally respected end lamented by the corps, as well as by all who knew him. One of the lieutenants who lost his life was the only support of an aged mother and sister, who, at his death, had neither friend nor relation left to comfort and protect them. The number of people who were afterwards daily seen at Dock, in deep mourning for their lost relatives, was truly melancholy.
Captain Pellow was taken up by the boats and carried to Commissioner Fanshaw’s house in the dock-yard, very weak with the exertions he had made, and so shocked with the distressing cause of them, that he at first appeared scarcely to know where he was, or to be sensible of his situation. In the course of a day or two, when he was a little recovered, he was removed to the house of a friend, Dr. Hawker of Plymouth.