Captain1
Lieutenants8
Master1
Chaplain1
Surgeon1
Purser1
Second Master1
Assistant Surgeons3
Gunner1
Boatswain1
Carpenter1
Mate1
Midshipmen23
Master’s Assistants6
Schoolmaster1
Clerk1
Master-at-arms1
Ship’s Corporals2
Captain’s Coxswain1
Launch ditto1
Quarter-Masters12
Gunner’s Mates5
Boatswain’s Mates8
Captains of Forecastle3
Captain of Hold1
Ship’s Cook1
Sailmaker1
Ropemaker1
Carpenter’s Mates2
Caulker1
Armourer1
Captains of Maintop3
Captains of Foretop3
Captains of Mast3
Captains of After-guard3
Yeoman of Signals1
Coxswain of Pinnace1
Sailmaker’s Mate1
Caulker’s Mate1
Armourer’s Mates2
Cooper1
Volunteers12
Gunner’s Crew25
Carpenter’s ditto18
Sailmaker’s ditto2
Cooper’s ditto2
Yeoman of Store-room1
Able Seamen478
Ordinary ditto
Cook’s Mate1
Barber1
Purser’s Steward1
Captain’s ditto1
Captain’s Cook1
Ward-room ditto1
Ward-room Steward1
Steward’s Mate1
Landsman1
Boys31
Captain of Marines1
Lieutenants3
Sergeants4
Corporals4
Drummers2
Privates146

Total850

“Eight hundred and fifty in one ship!”

“Yes, boys; and there were, perhaps, a thousand people on board the Royal George when she went down at Spithead.”

“Dreadful! dreadful! How did it happen?”

“I will tell you, as well as I can. The ships in the royal navy are sheathed with copper. The Royal George, the flag-ship of Admiral Kempenfeldt, a first-rate, of a hundred and eight guns, had just returned from a cruise, and required some repairs in her sheathing and water-pipe. To do these repairs it was necessary to run her heavy furniture to one side, and tilt her up, or to give her what shipwrights call the parliament-heel. When the ship was in this position, with her crew, and at least three hundred women on board,—for the vessel was crowded with friends to welcome home the crew,—when the ship was in this position a sudden squall, it is thought, came on,—though I fear one of the lieutenants was sadly in fault,—and over she tipped; down went the Royal George, with the admiral, officers, crew, and all that were aboard!”

“What a terrible accident!”

“It was indeed a very terrible one! Seamen are usually very steady in storms and dangers, but the crew of the Royal George foundered without warning. You shall have an instance of the resolution of seamen in a storm. The following relation is given by a young officer.

“‘The dead-lights were shipped, our hatches were battened down, and eight men stationed to the relieving tackles in the gun-room. At this period the sea was tremendously heavy, the ship rolling her quarter-deck bulwarks under, although going at the rate of twelve and a half knots per hour; the wind howled most dreadfully, and, altogether, it was a most dismal sight to behold our ship’s company shivering with cold and rain, not able to procure any refreshment, the sea having soon washed out the galley fire; and it was impossible to get at the spirit-room to splice the mainbrace; altogether it was truly miserable.

“‘About three P. M. the fore-sail, although furled, was blown away from the yard, and shortly afterwards the larboard main-top-sail sheet went, and the sail flapped furiously against the top-mast and main-mast head. At this critical juncture the spirit of the British seaman was evinced; for, unless the sail was cut away, the main-mast must be lost, and, as a necessary consequence, the vessel herself would have a bad chance, if broached to the wind. It was a moment of terrible suspense and anxiety to all hands, not one of whom could stand or move on deck without holding on by the lifelines, passed fore and aft; and even thus, two men had been washed overboard, who were standing near the main-mast, and, strange to relate, the next sea washed them in again, the bight of the fore-sheet having caught them; but one had his neck terribly cut.

“‘In this extremity the captain had too much feeling and humanity to order any men aloft, as it was deemed impossible for them to succeed, and that their lives must be inevitably sacrificed in making the attempt; however, the gunner, Mr. Collier, who had served as chief gunner’s mate of the Shannon, in her splendid action with the Chesapeake, and two seamen, whose names deserve to be handed down to posterity, immediately volunteered their services. It was a moment of extreme dread and anxiety, to behold these gallant fellows mounting the shrouds at a period when the sea broke over our lower yard-arms, and every roll of the ship threatened to consign them to eternity. Each man on deck felt as if his own life were at stake: when one of them, William Murray, the captain of the main-top, laid out and cut away the larboard earing, while the gunner, assisted by the other, whose name I regret at this distant period I cannot bring to memory, severed the remaining top-sail sheet from the main-yard: the sail rent asunder with a terrible crash, which was heard far above the howling of the wind. The safety of the vessel thus assured, what a joyous moment for these brave and daring fellows, as they descended to receive the heartfelt cheers and gratulations of their officers and shipmates, as fine a crew as ever trod a vessel’s deck: it was a scene not to be soon forgotten, and calculated to inspire confidence in the resources of British seamanship, and courage under the most trying circumstances.’”