The sufferings and privations endured by the officers and crew of the Banterer, during such trying circumstances, have been ably described in the above narrative of Captain Shephard. From the 29th of October, to the 24th of November, a period of twenty-seven days, these men, with little hopes of succour, had borne, with almost unexampled fortitude, not only hunger and cold, but, to use the words of the surgeon, 'a considerable number of the crew were affected with inflammation of the extremities, which in nearly twenty cases produced partial mortification, and one extensive gangrene on both feet, attended with delirium and other dangerous symptoms.'
Captain Shephard died, as rear-admiral, in 1841.
THE CRESCENT.
His Majesty's Ship Crescent, of 36 guns, Captain John Temple, sailed from Yarmouth about four o'clock in the afternoon of the 29th of November, 1808, for Gottenburg. When she left Yarmouth, the wind blew fresh from the south-west, and it continued favourable till the following afternoon, when the weather became overcast, and the wind increased to a gale. The vessel proceeded on her course for some days, and at daylight, on the 5th of December, the coast of Norway was discernible from the deck. At one o'clock, P.M., they sounded in twenty-five fathoms, on the coast of Jutland; an hour later they sounded in eighteen fathoms, and at three o'clock they were in thirteen fathoms. The pilots in charge of the Crescent requested the master to inform Captain Temple that they desired that the ship should be hove to, with her head to the southward, and the topsails close reefed. The advice of the pilots was immediately acted upon, and they at the same time assured the captain that they were well acquainted with the soundings, and they had no doubt the ship would drift with safety. Suddenly she did drift into ten fathoms, and remained in that depth until eight o'clock, P.M.
Captain Temple felt anxious for the safety of his ship and her crew, and he inquired of the pilots if any alteration could be made with advantage. They replied that none was necessary; but that the Crescent should be kept on the same tack till daylight. The vessel drifted till ten o'clock, P.M. when she struck. A boat was immediately lowered to sound. The men reported the current setting to eastward at the rate of two and a-half or three miles an hour.
As the sails were now only forcing the ship further on the shoal, orders were given to furl, and to hoist out all the boats except the jolly-boat and gig—both of these orders were promptly obeyed. At this time, the current was taking the ship on the larboard bow, and canting her round. In order to draw her off, the sails were loosed; but this, instead of having the desired effect, hove her round into a worse position than before. The sails were again furled, and an anchor and cable were got into the launch. The boats then took the launch in tow, and endeavoured to pull her out; but the force and rapidity of the current rendered it impossible to do so. The situation of the Crescent became every instant more perilous; the gale had increased, and the wind, which had veered round to the north-west, blew direct on shore, forcing the vessel further on the shoal. As a last attempt to save the ship, the captain directed that the bower anchor should be let go, and the ship lightened by heaving the guns, shot, balls, &c., overboard. Little good resulted from this step; and then the water was started and the provisions thrown overboard out of the fore and aft holds. Pumping now became useless, as the water had risen to the hatches; and when at last the cable parted, all hopes of saving the vessel were abandoned, and at half-past six in the morning of the 6th of December the masts were cut away by the captain's orders, and she lay a helpless wreck. The boats which, until this time, had been lying off in tow, broke their hawsers; and when the people on board found it impossible to regain the ship, from the force of the current, they made for the shore, and fortunately all succeeded in reaching it, with the exception of one of the cutters, which was lost with all her crew. Lieutenant Henry Stokes, who was in one of the other boats, fearing that she would be capsized, jumped overboard, and attempted to swim on shore, but had not strength to buffet with the waves, and was drowned. The storm continued to increase as the day advanced, and the men on board the wreck being completely exhausted, they piped to breakfast, and a dram was served round. At one o'clock, P.M., a raft was commenced, and in about an hour it was completed and launched, and placed under the charge of Lieutenant John Weaver, of the Marines, Mr. Thomas Mason, clerk, and Mr. James Lavender, midshipman. The crew of the raft was composed chiefly of the sick, or those least capable of exerting themselves for their own preservation. When the raft left the ship, the captain and gallant crew of the Crescent gave three hearty cheers to their companions, whom they were never likely to behold again. It is hard to say which of the parties was in greatest peril, or nearest to destruction; but in all such cases, those who are obliged to wait for the awful moment, are subjected to more intense mental suffering than those who act, and are enabled to take any measures, however perilous, for saving their lives. The people upon the raft returned the farewell cheer, and as each wave dashed over them, and they again floated on the surface, they announced their safety with another and another shout. They had little hope indeed of reaching the shore alive; they were standing up to their middle in water, and every billow that rolled over them carried away one or more of their number. Happily some of those who were washed off the raft, succeeded in regaining it; but seven of them perished, the rest were safely landed, and to the constant exertions of the officers to keep up the spirits of the men, they were greatly indebted for their preservation.
A second raft was begun on board the Crescent, but it was never completed; the sea made a clear breach over her; the quarter-deck became filled with water, and it was therefore necessary to launch the jolly-boat in order to save as many lives as possible, though she could scarcely be expected to live in such a sea. Once more, Captain Temple and above two hundred men and officers said farewell to the companions of their toils and dangers—once more they bade God speed to the frail bark—their own last chance of escape—and watched it as it was now borne aloft on the crested wave, now buried in the briny furrow. For a time they forgot their own danger in anxiety for the others; but they were soon recalled to what was passing around them—the groaning of the timbers, as every sea struck the wreck with an increasing shock, forewarned them that she could not long resist that mighty force. There were two hundred and twenty human beings entirely helpless to save themselves. None may know the agonies of that hour, when even hope itself had fled—when nothing intervened between the soul and the unseen world. The Crescent went to pieces a short time after the departure of the jolly-boat, and every one left on board perished, to the number of two hundred and twenty, out of a crew of two hundred and eighty. Amongst the lost were the captain, three lieutenants, a lieutenant of marines, nine midshipmen, the surgeon, purser, carpenter, and gunner; two pilots, one passenger, six women, and a child.
The surviving officers and crew of the Crescent were tried by a court martial, at Sheerness, for the loss of the vessel, when the court was of opinion that 'the loss of the Crescent proceeded from the ignorance and neglect of the pilots, and that the master was blameable, inasmuch that he did not recommend to the captain or pilots either coming to an anchor, or standing on the other tact, for the better security of H.M. late ship Crescent.'
'The court was further of opinion that every exertion was made on the part of the remaining officers and crew for the safety of the Crescent.'