'From information which has been given me by boats which saw the Avenger at sea the day of her loss, and adding the observations which I was enabled to make on the spot itself, I have every reason to believe that the event happened in the following manner:—

'The Avenger had, during the day, run along the coast of Algeria, but on the approach of night, being then north of Calle, and the weather having suddenly become very bad, with a great deal of wind from the north-west, the captain of the Avenger altered her course immediately to the northward, in order not to be caught in the middle of a dangerous channel. As soon as he thought that the ship had passed the parallel of the Sorelle, he resumed his course to the eastward, satisfied that he would pass several miles to the northward of them. He had not calculated on the currents which I have found at this dangerous spot, and which, with a north-west wind, set to the south-eastward with a rapidity of about 3 miles an hour. The track of the Avenger must have been materially altered by this cause. When she steered east, she was only in the latitude of the Sorelle, and was shortly afterwards, on a very dark night, shattered against these rocks. The first shock must have been dreadful. It took place on the point south-east of the north-west rock; when she cleared this rock, which is at this spot thirteen feet below the surface, leaving a large white furrow, she ran a hundred and sixty feet further, and struck on the south-east rock, which is only about four feet (one metre twenty centimetres) below the surface. She again marked the rock very distinctly. The sea, which is often very rough on this spot, has left nothing remaining but the massive part of the engine, where it can be perceived between the two rocks, covered with thick weed.

'The dangerous Sorelle are formed by two tables of rocks, distant about a hundred and sixty feet from each other, and separated by a channel of a medium depth of thirty-nine to forty-nine feet (twelve to fifteen metres). These two tables of rocks extend from the north-west to the south-east. The north-west one has a diameter of 66 English feet (twenty metres), its highest point is to the eastward, 16 feet under water (five metres). The southeastern has a diameter of 197 feet (sixty metres), and its highest point is only at a depth of 4 feet. This last point is situated, according to my observations, which agree with the position laid down in the chart of Admiral Berard, in 37° 24' of north latitude, and 6° 16' 25" of east longitude from Paris, (or 8° 36' 45" east of Greenwich); 17'.4 miles S. 65° 15' W. of the east point of the Island of Galita, and 27'.3 miles N. 0° 30' E. of Cape Roux.'

The fate of the Avenger leads to many sad reflections. The last of the wrecks described in this volume, one of yesterday, as it were, was more disastrous than many others. It is painful to contemplate the scene of dismay, when the ship struck, so unlike the presence of mind and calm deportment which we have recorded on similar occasions. But every allowance is to be made for the panic which followed a catastrophe so sudden and so overwhelming. The night was dark and tempestuous, the sea was running high, and all the elements were in a state of uproar. The paralyzing effect of this accumulation of horrors appears in the fact, that even after the small party of eight had so far secured their preservation as to be in possession of the cutter, and were within sight of the Island of Galita, two of them were found to be bereft of their reason.

The first crash, and the rapid plunge of the ship into the gulf that opened for her, and the loss of their captain among the first that perished, left the crew without that guidance and control to which seamen are in the habit of looking for support.

But though we have to regret the consternation that prevailed, there was no gross neglect or misconduct to throw a darker shade over the last hours of the Avenger. Captain Napier had been in consultation in his cabin with the master and second-master, examining the charts, and had also been on deck, giving directions to the officer of the watch, but a short time before the first alarm. When the panic was at its height, there was no act of dastardly selfishness for personal preservation, to the disregard of the safety of others. The officers are not accused of losing their composure. Lieut. Marryat is stated to have been 'calm and self-possessed;' and Mr. Rooke's strenuous efforts to lower the cutter, and his manly resolution to remain by the ship, as long as there was any chance of saving the lives of some of the survivors, attest his devotion to his duty to the very last.

The French officer, Captain Bouchier Rivière, who made a survey of the Sorelle after the wreck, and who deliberately considered all the circumstances, imputes no blame to the officers of the Avenger, but generously accounts for the misfortune by referring to the dangers of the spot, the force of the currents, the wildness of the weather, and the darkness of the night. 'The first shock,' says he, 'must have been dreadful.'

It would have been humiliating and afflicting, had this record of the Shipwrecks of the Royal Navy, in which there is so much to admire, been closed with the details of a calamity in any way disgraceful to the service. Truth has required that the words 'dismay' and 'panic' should be used in the foregoing relation; but the terrible suddenness of the event, the instantaneous shock which broke up the Avenger in a moment, without the preparatory warning of 'breakers ahead,' or the previous notice of rocks or shoals in sight, will more than account for the helplessness to which the crew were reduced. They had not time to brace up their shattered nerves. The noble bearing of the two lieutenants, Rooke and Marryat, cool as they were, and in full command of their energies in the midst of crashing timbers and perishing men, places the character of the British seaman in its title light, and winds up our narrative with two more examples of naval heroism.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] The party in the boat consisted of Lieutenant Rooke; Mr. Betts, second master; Mr. Ayling, master's assistant; Mr. Larcom, gunner; Dr. Steel, the surgeon; Wm. Hills, captain's steward: John Owen, stoker; and the boy Morley.