After some deliberation, the first to be placed in the cot was a woman named Mary Leary, who was assisted into it, and drawn through the air to what seemed a frightful height, amid the cheers of all. On her being landed, the cot was again lowered to the rock, and the narrator of our story entered it, lying upon his back. Giving the signal that he was ready, those on the mainland pulled, and in a few minutes he was safe on the cliff, where he received the warm congratulations of the gentlemen there assembled. The ship’s carpenter, who was evidently very ill, was next placed in the cot, but the poor fellow breathed his last almost immediately after landing. The others soon followed, the captain, as should be, being the last. Once ashore, they were treated with warm-hearted hospitality, and a liberal subscription was raised for the sufferers of the crew and passengers, and the widows and orphans of those who were [pg 315]lost. Of fifty persons who left Cork on the ill-fated Killarney, about twenty-five landed on the rock, and of these only fourteen reached land, one of them, as we have seen, to expire immediately.
The mode by which the few survivors were rescued was so novel that it deserves particular notice, and the following, quoted from a letter written by Mr. E. W. Hull to Baron Spolasco, will be found interesting.
“The first intelligence my brother and myself received of the wreck was from Mr. John Galwey, at about nine or ten o’clock on Sunday morning. We immediately proceeded towards the scene of the dreadful catastrophe, which is about five miles from Roberts’ Cove, and arrived there at eleven o’clock. My brother’s men, of course, accompanied us. On our reaching the place, I descended the frightful precipice, at the foot of which I discovered Mr. Galwey letting ducks fly with lines attached to them. I joined him in the experiment, though indeed I entertained not the least hope of its proving effective. We abandoned this plan, and having taken off my coat and hat, and placed a rope round my waist, to prevent my falling over the lower cliff upon which we stood, I commenced using all the means I could devise to convey a stone with a line attached to it to the rock. I first made an effort to throw a stone from my hand; next, I, with others, had recourse to slings; but all our experiments, as the sequel proved, were useless. I may here, without the least exaggeration, assert that the danger to which Mr. John Galwey, young Mr. Knolles, and myself, were exposed was beyond the power of conception. Below us appeared a hideous gulf, almost yawning to receive us from the cliff upon which we stood, while from above we saw large stones rolling down from a height of two hundred feet. To avoid being struck by these we had not the power of moving an inch from the place in which we respectively stood; so that in this, as in all other circumstances connected with our dangerous undertakings on the occasion, we were protected in our frightful situation by the peculiar interposition of Providence. We next had recourse to the plan of a person named Mills, of the Coastguard at Roberts’ Cove. It was that of attaching wire to bullets, and firing them from guns. This plan likewise proved unsuccessful.
“At this time, when all our plans had become unavailing, those who had been acting with me below went to the top of the cliff. Being exceedingly exhausted I was unable to follow. I lay down on the brink of the precipice, nearly on a line with the top of the rock upon which the sufferers were, and feeling as a human being should at so heartrending a spectacle, when all hope of saving a single individual was almost extinct. I exclaimed, ‘Good God! are there no means left to save them?’ At this moment I took a view of the east promontory and the west. The thought—the happy thought—flashed across my mind. I immediately perceived that Providence favoured us with a tolerable certainty of success. I ascended the precipice, and made my brother acquainted with my plan. We both suggested it to others, but it was disregarded, owing to the great distance between the promontories and the immense height of the cliffs. However, I saw a glorious prospect before me of rescuing my fellow-creatures from an awful death. Heaven inspired me with confidence, and, in conjunction with my brother, I could not be diverted from making a trial. My brother and the neighbouring gentlemen sent in all directions for lines and ropes. On getting them, we commenced putting my plan into execution. The first attempt failed through want of sufficiency of rope and the setting in of night. When the rope was [pg 317]carried to the rock and there secured, I perceived that one man got upon it. Had he alone ventured, all would be right; but the eagerness of another poor fellow was so great that he attached himself to it, and the weight of the two was overmuch for the rope to bear, and it consequently broke. How we felt at this dreadful occurrence your readers may imagine; I cannot describe the fearful thrill of horror which pervaded every breast. It was now dark night; we had therefore to discontinue our efforts until the next morning. We left the lines during the intervening night as we had adjusted them the evening before. My brother left two of his men, with one of Lieutenant Charlesson’s, to preserve the rope and property during the night.
RESCUE OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE “KILLARNEY.”
“To return to the subject of my communication, I should state that, on ascending the cliff I met Lady Roberts and Captain Knolles. I told them of the loss of one man, not knowing at the time that a second had also suffered—this information, indeed, I afterwards received from yourself. I, notwithstanding this sad disaster, felt persuaded that if I had a sufficient quantity of rope all would be saved. I mentioned this to Lady Roberts, upon which her ladyship assured me that I should be plentifully supplied with this article. Though painful to our feelings to be obliged to leave you to spend another night of gloom and horror, we were under the necessity of doing so for want of a sufficient quantity of rope. On the following morning (Monday) I arrived at the cliff, accompanied by my brother and his men, an hour before daylight. The weather was dreadful beyond conception, rain and snow falling incessantly. We immediately proceeded to bring into operation the plan of the former day. We were at this time much better enabled to do so, having obtained a sufficiency of rope by the directions of Lady Roberts, who, to the honour of her sex, was present at that early hour, exposed to the inclemency of the weather. Lieutenant Irwin, Inspector of the Coastguard at Kinsale, arrived about this time with Captain Manby’s apparatus. This gentleman, having, I presume, had some previous experience of the capability of similar machines, commenced discharging balls from it. This suspended the operation of my plan for some time, but it was found altogether ineffective; but I consider it right to state that no man could have manifested a greater anxiety than Mr. Irwin to do good. The lines and ropes which he brought us were essentially necessary in putting the successful plan into execution; he also brought the cot....
“In about two hours I had the satisfaction of seeing fourteen persons safely landed from the rock, but one of them, I regret to say, died of exhaustion a short time after having been brought on shore.
“The hawser, as you perceived, had to be taken down a precipice of nearly three hundred feet. To the end of it was joined the line which you had primarily received upon the rock, also a basket of refreshments. I myself took it all down to the lower cliff, where I received each person on being drawn from the rock. The dangers to which myself and three of the coastguard were exposed on that occasion were not, I assure you, trifling.”
About a fortnight after the wreck of the Killarney, a large portion of the rock upon which the remnant of the crew and passengers had suffered so much was carried away in a storm. It is worthy of remark that during the American War a vessel conveying a company and band of the 32nd Regiment of Foot was lost on the same rock, when all perished.