Tales of Shipwrecks and Other Disasters at Sea

by Thomas Bingley

Having received on board the troops, consisting of three hundred and twenty men, the flower of the regiment, who were selected out of nearly one thousand, to form the second battalion of marines in the service of the Batavian republic, the ship got under way on the morning of the 21st November, 1802, and proceeded with a favorable breeze till early in the morning of the following day, when it began to blow a heavy gale from a contrary direction. The captain immediately ordered the top-gallant masts and yards to be struck, when the vessel appeared to ride easier than before. As the day opened, however, the wind blew with increased violence, and every exertion of the crew to render the ship manageable, proved ineffectual.

The most serious apprehensions soon began to be entertained for the safety of the vessel; and the state of the ladies on board was particularly distressing. Some embraced their helpless offspring and wept over them in speechless agony, while others in vain implored their husbands to procure the means of landing them in safety on their native shore, and to give up the voyage. The commander, Captain Scherman, was himself in a very trying situation. His wife was on board, with an infant only three months old; and her affliction was aggravated by being surrounded with so many females, fondly weeping over their little ones, and earnestly entreating assistance of the captain, who had the utmost difficulty to prevail on them to leave him, so that he might attend to the duties of his station.

The ship continued to drive before the wind till about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the storm increased to a perfect hurricane. Soon after that hour, the mainmast went by the board, with a tremendous crash, and, in its fall, swept overboard several of the crew, besides wounding four or five others. This disaster greatly augmented the fears of all on board. The captain himself, the admiral, and the other officers, now seemed to consider their lives in the most imminent danger; for though they were so near the Kentish shore, that they could discern objects on land, yet the waves, which then rolled mountains high, totally precluded the possibility of their receiving assistance.

In this emergency they hoisted a signal of distress, and after very great exertion, they managed to bring the ship to anchor at the entrance of Hythe Bay; but as it was now quite dark, they could obtain no assistance from the shore, though the wind was not quite so tempestuous. By the captain's orders the crew were plentifully regaled, and a beam of hope illumined every countenance; but, alas! it was but of momentary duration. The ship was found to have sprung a leak: all hands were ordered to the pumps; and while they were thus employed, the storm again came on with redoubled violence.

Universal consternation now prevailed, and the piercing shrieks of the women and children, at each successive blast of wind, were sufficient to unman the stoutest heart. Every relief that circumstances would admit was afforded by the ship's company and the troops, to the unfortunate ladies, many of whom were, by this time, clinging round their husbands and fainting in their arms.

They remained in this dismal situation for several hours, during which the greatest order and sobriety reigned on board, till about six o'clock on the succeeding morning, when the vessel parted from her best bower-anchor, and drifted towards Dymchurch Wall, about three miles to the westward of Hythe. They continued to fire guns of distress, and kept the signal flying during the whole of the morning. At day-break, a pilot-boat put off from Dover, and coming near, recommended the captain to put back to Deal or Hythe, and to remain till the weather became more moderate. "If you proceed," said the boatman, "all hands will be lost; you are evidently unacquainted with the coast, and if the gale should continue, no power on earth can save you." The captain, however, conceiving the danger to be less imminent than was represented, neglected this advice, hoping that, as the day opened, the wind would abate, when he should be enabled to put into some bay or port, without being obliged to comply with the demands of the Dover pilots, or pay the Downs fees for coming to anchor there.

The pilot-boat had scarcely left the ship, when the commodore at Deal despatched two boats to endeavor to board the ship, when the unaccountable and fatal obstinacy of the captain was again strikingly displayed; the crew were ordered to let the vessel drive before the wind, and to pay no attention to the recommendations of the commodore. The boats then fired several shots as a further signal to bring to, but these were equally disregarded. A few minutes afterwards, one of the boats passed close under the stern, and as the ship had lost her mainmast, desired she would immediately put about and stand for the first port. But to this, like the former solicitations, they gave no reply, and the gale increasing, they soon lost sight of both the boats. The ill-fated captain was now in a state of the greatest agitation, and bitterly repented his refusal to take a pilot on board, but it was now too late; the roar of the sea was terrific, and such a tremendous swell, that the chance of any relief being afforded from the shore was completely prevented.

The wind now blew a perfect hurricane from the south and south-west; the signal-guns they continued to fire incessantly, and the captain twice attempted to put the ship about, but all his exertions proved fruitless. She was now near Dymchurch Wall, where the coast, for the space of above two miles, is protected from the encroachment of the sea by overlaths and immense piles, and is further secured by large wooden jetties stretching far into the sea. On the first of these jetties the unfortunate vessel struck.

In this desperate situation, with the wind becoming more and more boisterous, the captain ordered the mizenmast to be cut away, and all the water in the hold to be started, by staving the casks; while a part of the crew, under the direction of the officers, were incessantly employed at the pumps. They also threw nearly the whole of the ballast overboard; but in spite of all their exertions, the danger seemed every moment to increase. So maddening was the reflection of what might have been their situation had a pilot not been refused, that the officers could not refrain from reproaching the captain with having slighted the advice of the English in the boats: he appeared to be deeply sensible of his error, but it was now too late.

The admiral recommended the sheet anchor to be cut away, which was accordingly done, but, notwithstanding this precaution, the unfortunate ship continued to beat upon the piles, and the sea to break over her with such violence, that the men were no longer able to remain in the hold. The pumps had now become so completely choked with sand and mud, that they were rendered totally useless, and a speedy destruction of the vessel and all on board appeared to be inevitable. The foremast soon afterwards went over the ship's side, carrying along with it about twelve of the crew, who were soon swallowed up by the waves. The ladies now began to prepare for the worst, and several of them, for greater security, were handed to the bowsprit, attended by their husbands. The others chose to wait their fate on the quarter-deck, where stood the miserable Captain Scherman, in silent despair at the unavailing cries for assistance of those around him; while his unfortunate wife, in all the bitterness of maternal anguish, was clinging to his feet.