LIST OF STEERAGE PASSENGERS.

The following list of steerage passengers is supplied by Mr. Lynch, of Cashel, who was one of the fortunate passengers who landed at Queenstown. The list is from memory:—

‘Mr. Holland, wife and three children; had been in India, and was in the volunteer corps. Two brothers named Hogarth, from Scotland; one was married, and had a little boy about eight years old. Mr. and Mrs. Lyons, from London, had two sons, one about ten and the other about twelve. Mr. Lyons was a watchmaker. Mrs. Atkey, somewhere near London, had a girl about sixteen. Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, from Bruff, county Limerick, and three children. Mrs. Willis and two children, one a little boy about nine and a girl eleven years, English. Mr. Faulkner and little girl about six years old. Mr. Barrett, belonged to the medical profession, and was employed to take care of Mr. Henry, a lunatic, English. A young man, native of Dublin, about twenty-six, named Kelly, dark foxy hair, worked at Prarhan, near Melbourne, brickmaking. A musician, named Harris, an Irishman, but was going to see his brother to London, or some of his friends, age about twenty-eight, foxy whiskers and hair, low size, but stout and smart looking. Mr. Wickett, another musician, about thirty, dark complexion, and dark hair. George Taylor, age about forty-five, was going to Belfast, and went out to Melbourne as doctor in the “Ben Nevis,” and was only just recovering from colonial fever; was but a few months in Australia. Henry Laughton, from some part of Lincolnshire, was going home to his wife and children, and was seven years in the colony: he had a son ten years old, who wrote him a letter to come home, and it was signed John Hudson Laughton. William J. Green, London; had been some time in South Australia. Edward Allen, London, red hair, and about thirty years old; was a digger. A fine-looking young man named Bishop, about twenty-five years old, from London. Two brothers named Roe, English. Peter and John Morton, Cornwall, England. Bakewell, a draper, about twenty; tall, and light hair. I think he was from London. A most respectable man, named Wade; tall and slight make, with dark hair, and was some time at the Ovens Diggings; English, age about forty.

‘A respectable man named Thompson; went out in the “Royal Charter,” obtained a situation in Melbourne, and was coming home for the purpose of bringing out his family. Mr. Thompson, aged about fifty; a stout-looking man, an engineer; had left his wife and family in Hobart Town, Tasmania. James Wyatt, a fine stout-looking young man, age about twenty-eight, dark complexion and dark hair, about six feet high; a native of England, and had been at sea before. An Irishman, named Cavanagh, low sized, but very stout; light hair, and age about thirty. I think he was from the county Limerick, but am not certain; had been in America, and had been sailoring for some time, and worked in a steamer that sailed between Melbourne and Launceston, Tasmania. An Englishman named Cowley, age about thirty-five. A stout-looking man named Grice, aged about forty-five. An old man and his son, from about Nenagh; I think their name was Faba. Charles Conway, from some part of England, age about twenty-eight, and was a working jeweller; was of low size and slight make, with light hair. William Ford, age about twenty-five, dark complexion and dark hair, of low size and slight make, and was a smart intelligent fellow; I think he was from London, or some part of England, and was working at the Ovens Diggings for some time. A young man named Purdy, a blacksmith, native of England; of low size, age about twenty-five, dark complexion. Joseph Moss, London, a Jew, age about forty-five; was in Australia before, and sailed in the “Kent.” Mr. Davis, a Jew, low size, dark hair, age about forty-three. Mr. Rea was going to London, and had been some time in New Zealand, spoke French and English, age about forty, with thin features. A low size, thin-faced man, named Jones, age about forty, very much pock-marked. An old man, over fifty, low size, stout make, worked in a foundry in Castlemaine, was going home for his family. I wrote a direction on two cards for him, one was Dowles and the other Abergavenny; these were to put on his boxes or luggage. I think he worked for Mr. Varian, Castlemaine, and was an Englishman. John Tyrrel, age about twenty-three, dark hair; was a native of some part of England. An Englishman named Jacob. George Sieter, a German, age thirty. Francis Weber, German, age twenty-six. A young man named Fowler, a German, age twenty-one. A young man named Hughes. Mr. James P. O’Dowd, of Dublin, who had made several voyages in the ill-fated vessel.’

This list is given with all its imperfections, because the names of steerage passengers are not usually published in the colonial newspapers.

Dr. Scoresby on the ‘Royal Charter.’

It will be recollected that the late Dr. Scoresby—who made himself so great a name in the history of Arctic discovery—went round the world in the ‘Royal Charter’ in order to study the deviation of compasses in iron ships. The fine old sailor in his posthumous work[D] thus speaks of the ship and her performances:—

‘Now, as to the action and performance of the “Royal Charter” under this hard gale and mighty disturbance of the waters, the experience we again derived was truly astonishing, and, compared with all my previous experience, what I should have deemed impossible; for by far the greatest portion of the time, I should say four minutes out of five, we had no observable motion, the ship being steady, quiet, and often apparently absolutely still. A minute or two would often pass whilst these heavy waves were rolling harmlessly forward, and but just raising in a slight degree the stem and alternately depressing it, when we might have seemed to be sailing in a sea of extreme calmness in the finest weather. In these intervals of dead quiet, no woodwork, joint, or junction of iron and timber, emitted an audible sound—no creaking was heard,—and at night there was sometimes a quiet most striking in its stillness. Of cases of this perfect quiet in time of heavy sea, squalls, and storm, I frequently noted intervals of seven and eight seconds, of ten to twelve, sometimes twenty up to twenty-four seconds, where there was not motion sufficient to break a silence of repose like that of dock or harbour. Hence, notwithstanding the lurches on rolling, extending sometimes to 16° or 20° on one side, and perhaps once in several hours to 30°—the maximum never exceeded up to this time,—a rolling inseparable from a progress directly before the wind, in difficult steering and with squared yards,—yet most occupations below, while ladies as well as others, went on as usual; and, when the state of the decks as to dryness would admit, exercise on the deck likewise. Thus when the waves were at the highest—when elevations of forty feet and upwards were rolling around and beneath the ship—Mrs. Scoresby accompanied me on deck for exercise, and to view, in an instant of bright sunshine, the sublime scenes around, and found no difficulty in walking the poop deck, which was unencumbered and dry. She accompanied me, too, along the gangways extending from the poop to the deck-house, and from thence to the broad and spacious forecastle up to the very bitts, within a few feet of the stem,—and even to this extent, and along a range of three hundred and twenty feet of deck and platform, the progress was perfectly easy, and at the time the whole extent was clean (unusually so, almost to whiteness), and dry from end to end.

‘Again, I may remark, that our meals were always served up to the minute, in the handsome services, covers, and appendages before noticed. Everything cooked with the same effectiveness and completeness in storm as in calm: fresh provisions, roasted and boiled, in fowls, mutton, pork, etc., unfailing and abundant,—pastry, puddings, and the variety of niceties, for each particular course, always ample and good of their kind; so that in speaking of the servants and cooks as part of the ship, and of the ship as a thing or creature of life, I may say that the “Royal Charter” had no consciousness of bad weather, and made no signs of complaining in storms or heavy seas. During a heavy squall, for instance, at dinner-time on this day—a fierce snow-storm for a period, the wind blowing tremendously—no effect whatever was produced on the comfort of those who sat at table; and a wine-glass I had emptied stood for many minutes entirely unsupported betwixt the protecting bars of the table, and it was only liable to be disturbed by some particular lurch which might happen to occur. Again, in regard to pitching and “sending,” the action of the ship was equally remarkable, both for the easiness of the motion and the smallness of the inclination of the keel from the horizontal level. A forty-feet wave, on its entrance below the stern or counter of the ship, whilst the bow was exactly in the lowest or most depressed portion betwixt crest and crest, should raise the stern, as from the simplest view of the case it might seem, to at least its own elevation, or give an angle of inclination to the keel of about 7°; but no such measure of pitching or “sending” motion was ever observed—probably not above half as much. For, in no instance in scudding, did I ever observe the bow of the ship plunge nor the stern rise to anything like the position apparently due to the elevation of the passing waves. The action, indeed, was obviously of this nature; from the admirable adjustment of the ship’s lines of construction, forward and aft, the loftiest wave, on its reaching the stern-post below, exerts its lifting tendency, not abruptly or suddenly, as where the quarters are heavy and the run thick, but very gradually, so that the disturbing force, passing beyond the place of greatest influence before its due action is realized, becomes modified and reduced.

‘These principles are no doubt in operation in every tolerable mode of marine architecture, but not to the degree of perfection in which the tendency to assume horizontality of position, and to receive the least possible disturbing effects from the most formidable disturbing causes in the action of rough, irregular, or heavy seas, has been attained in the modelling and building of the “Royal Charter;” and whilst similar results in kind will be found to have been obtained in very many or most of the scientifically constructed and splendid clipper and other first-class ships of this important age, I should much doubt whether in any single instance the approach to perfectness of the model of the “Royal Charter” has been exceeded, or even—in all the elements of the perfect “sea-boat,” as adapted for these southern regions, proverbial for turbulent seas and boisterous weather—been equalled. The view from the poop and forecastle which my wife and some others of our ladies witnessed for considerable periods together, even in the height of the gale, was one, especially during the favourable occasions of bright sunshine, of sublime magnificence; whilst the general view of the tumultuous waters as we looked astern, as the ship was scudding before the storm, and as we marked the waves rolling perpetually onward, and overtaking in succession the swift-sailing ship, presented a picture of striking grandeur. The more threatening storm seas, as every now and then they rose high above our position, and intercepted (astern and on the quarters of the ship) every other portion of the mighty waters, could hardly be contemplated,—I ought to say, could not rationally be contemplated, without awe! Nor was the action of the ship under the mighty disturbance the least impressive or least striking feature in the general picture.’

I remember that passage being quoted in the AthenÆum, with this pleasant remark: ‘Only to think of all this jollity at sea—in a voyage round the world—dainty ladies for companions instead of howling savages; fresh fish, flesh, and fowl, champagne, old port, and silver dishes, in place of remainder biscuit, salt pork, and hot grog.’ Ah! only to think of all the jollity! Little did Dr. Scoresby imagine, when he penned that passage—little did the reviewer think when he affixed that genial comment to it—that the ship, with its jollity, its dainty ladies, and its silver trappings, would so soon lie ‘sunk in the waves!’

But the life on board the vessel has been elsewhere described. In a tiny tome of sketches lately published[E] is the following attempt at a picture:—

‘Our Ship looks best, I think, at night. She’s by no means unworthy of being sketched in the morning when a few albatrosses are sailing round her, and a whale blowing his foamy fountain just a length or two behind. She’s pretty at sunset again, when her sails flush purple, and the passengers form themselves into so many little knots, and, as the twilight thickens, watch the roseate touches dying in the west. She’s brave in a storm at any time.... She shakes off a sea as a restive horse throws its rider. But she’s best of all o’ nights, when the dancing is going on aft, the sailors are singing “Chiliman” round the galley, and any number of proposals are being made among the “intermediates” behind the long-boat. How beautifully, at the stilly hour of eight bells, she moves through the water, and flings the phosphorescent foam about her like an Eastern queen beneath a rain of pearls. What was Cleopatra’s barge in comparison, or any “Nicean barque” that ever sailed upon a “perfumed sea?”

‘But the best part of Our Ship, either by day or night, isn’t on deck at all. There is a snug little cockpit forward, before the jollity of which mere cuddy luxuries count as nothing. The second and third mates, one or two young middies, a guitar, plenty of grog and smoke, a good old cheese, and some biscuits, will make as jolly an evening among them as any Christian need wish to spend. On Our Ship these parties are nightly occurrences. There is a young midshipman on board with lots of money. He is always inviting his friends to meet him. He is a pleasant youth, with large, bland eyes, and a superfluous number of oaths. I never knew a lad, though, who imprecated more innocently. He evidently thinks that good swearing and good seamanship go together. He swears at a little child on board all the time he is filling its lap with candy and comfits. He is, withal, a good-tempered youth, but constantly getting into scrapes with the officers. After the breaking up of these festivities—which doesn’t generally happen until an advanced hour, when not even the ghost of a deadlight remains—it sometimes happens that you find it difficult to discover your right “home” amongst the long line of cabins down the side of the dimly-lighted saloon. This kind of thing, though, is by no means confined to festivities at sea.

‘There is pleasant work on the R—— C—— in the evening. A select whist party takes one table, chess, draughts, and backgammon occupy another, and a jovial circle of “speculators” a third. At nine o’clock the hot water is served, when each brews his glass of toddy—baling out a wine-glass of the smoking liquor for his lady neighbour—and jollity holds sway for the remainder of the evening. Those who don’t understand Hoyle—who are dummies at whist, dull at dominoes, and regularly thrown on their backs with regard to all-fours—who think draughts dry, and see no point in backgammon—generally retire to the poop after tea, to get up their little music and dancing parties, and warble and waltz gaily enough ’neath the light of the glistening stars.

‘In dirty weather Our Ship is not to be altogether slighted. She rolls a good deal, I admit, but show me the vessel that doesn’t. There is a polarity, too, as Mr. Emerson would say, about this rolling. See how it churns the preserved milk (there is a cow attached to Our Ship, but I think she is only a kind of stage property, for, certes, her via lactea is as dry as leather), and makes a rich syllabub of the port wine. What an excuse it affords, too, for bad carving at dinner, and for becoming a sort of “shore” to the pretty young lady who sits next to you. If the lurches do empty the soup-plates occasionally in your lap, and chip the edges of the crockery until the dishes look like circular saws—if they do throw you out of your bunk at night, and land your head in the water-jug—what of that? Of course, no harm can ever come to the R—— C——, and, comforted by this conviction, all you have to do is to put up with the little annoyances for the sake of the “amenities” which, as I have shown, lurk beneath them.

‘For there are some very nice girls—and with this I must conclude—journeying upon Our Ship. I like to see them in the cold morning furred up to their pretty little noses, peeping up the companion-ladders to see if the weather will admit of a walk before breakfast. I like to see them at “church” on Sundays, gathered round a pork barrel “rigged” as a pulpit, with an old Union Jack rolled up for the cushion, and hear them lifting up their voices in solemn praise across the solemn sea. It is a grand sight this last. Full service in a cathedral is nothing to it. Jack in his clean shirt, and with that same Bible in his hand which his mother gave him years ago, when his face, now hardened with brine and scarred with sleet, was the pride of the old woman’s heart, is as impressive a figure to me as the finest-clad young neophyte who ever swung a censer. I know Jack sings out of tune, and ultimately swamps the Old Hundredth in the Bay of Biscay. But what matters that? Despite defects in harmony, the song of praise goes aloft in all its purity.’

Truly, a very ghastly humour plays about these descriptions as we read them now. The mirth seems like that in Holbein’s ‘Dance of Death.’

The Rev. Charles Vere Hodge.

‘The rev. gentleman was appointed to the vicarage of Clareborough in 1844, and shortly afterwards his wife, from some unsettled disposition, proposed to visit some distant relation in New Zealand. Notwithstanding all the remonstrances of her husband, she proceeded to the antipodes without a guide, protector, or friend. After remaining some years there, she returned to this country, and again took up her residence with her husband and children, of whom she was the mother of ten—seven sons and three daughters. She, however, could not rest long in this country, and ultimately persuaded her husband and part of her family to accompany her to New Zealand. For this purpose the rev. gentleman applied to and obtained leave of absence from the bishop of his diocese for two years; but, at the expiration of that period, not returning, a monition was issued for his immediate return to his cure. It was in obedience to this mandate that the rev. gentleman was returning in the “Royal Charter,” when he met his melancholy fate. Mr. Hodge left behind him in New Zealand his wife and three sons. Three sons and one daughter are at present in England, the others having died in infancy. Mr. Hodge’s only brother, the Rev. Henry Vere Hodge, M.A., perpetual curate of Middleton, near Tamworth, is at present engaged in the melancholy duty of watching the shore in the immediate neighbourhood of the wreck, seeking to recognize the person of the deceased. Mr. Hodge was universally respected and held in high esteem by his parishioners for his deep-rooted piety and sincerity in all things.’

He died like old Gilbert—went down beneath the waters Bible in hand.

The Adjourned Inquest.

When the inquest (see p. 34) was adjourned, every one imagined the inquiry would be of a most searching character. The calamity was of a nature which demanded the fullest investigation; and the public naturally expected that an officer from the Board of Trade would be despatched to Molfra to watch the proceedings. How these notions have been realized will be gathered from the following remarks which appeared in the Manchester Guardian of November the 4th:—‘Our readers will peruse with deep and painful interest the report we give to-day of the evidence adduced at the Llanallgo inquest. The statements of the survivors examined yesterday and the day before add but little perhaps to the information we were already in possession of as to the general features of the wreck of the “Royal Charter,” but many details of a personal nature are given, and thus the several narratives are invested with a peculiar fascination. It will be observed that the statement that Captain Taylor was intoxicated at the terrible moment that his ship was drifting on to destruction is repudiated by all the witnesses who have hitherto been examined, and that they bear the highest testimony to his courageous attitude from the commencement of the storm down to the time when the vessel broke up. He was always at his post, and they express their firm conviction that everything was done which good seamanship could suggest. To their testimony is added that of one of the passengers landed at Queenstown. Mr. J. M‘Envoy writes:—“Of all men I ever met, he was the most sober. I cannot recollect an occasion on the voyage when he exceeded the strictest bounds of temperance; he was always true to his duty, devoting his abilities and his attention to the safe guidance of the ship.” If we may judge from the character of the proceedings so far, it is highly probable that the Llanallgo inquest will be eminently unsatisfactory. The jury is composed of Welshmen, and the evidence has first to be written down—in English of course—by the Coroner, and afterwards translated by an interpreter. This must prove a very tedious process, but it will cause less concern than the behaviour of the jurors. These gentlemen do not appear to appreciate, in the most remote degree, the serious importance of the duty they have been called upon to perform; they have to be watched like schoolboys by a policeman, and, indeed, this latter functionary seems as much inclined as his wards to steal out of the schoolroom whenever an opportunity presents itself. We do not always perhaps expect to find Coroners’ Juries composed of the most intelligent men of the community; but we cannot help observing that these Welshmen have conducted themselves with a clownish levity which, in the interest of the public, we must stigmatize as utterly disgraceful.’

The tone of this is fully justified, as the reader will admit when he has perused the following:—

‘The general inquiry into the cause of the wreck, and of the consequent death of her crew and passengers, was commenced in the schoolroom of Llanallgo parish at one o’clock on Tuesday, the 2nd of November, before Mr. William Jones, coroner for Anglesea. The Rev. Mr. Williams, of Tyddyn, and H. Pitchard, Esq., of Troscawan, magistrates, attended to see that a full investigation was gone into. Mr. Mellor, of Oldham, solicitor, attended for Messrs. Gibb and Brights, the owners of the “Royal Charter.”

‘The jury was composed of very humble-looking men—small farmers and seafaring persons.

‘The Coroner asked Mr. Bright if he had got any witnesses?

‘Mr. Bright replied that he had collected all the witnesses whom he thought could throw any light on the matter, and several first-class passengers were in attendance. Mr. Gapper, a second-class passenger; William Foster, the carpenter of the ship; George Suaicar, the boatswain’s mate; John O’Brien, sailor; Henry Evans, sailor; and Thomas Cormick, one of the stewards, were also present.

‘Coroner.—Is there any one else who wishes to give evidence on this inquiry?

‘Several voices.—Mr. Russell.

‘Mr. Russell then answered to his name.

‘Coroner.—I believe there are other persons. Where is Mr. Bradbury? ‘It was answered that he was laid up with a broken leg.

‘Mr. Bright.—There is also Hughes, an apprentice, who is in bed, laid up.

‘The Coroner then said he was about to commence one of the most painful investigations which it had ever been his or any other coroner’s lot to conduct. He hoped the jury would discharge their duty without fear, favour, or affection, and quite uninfluenced by anything which they might have read or heard outside that room. He regretted the circumstance that some of the jury did not speak English, or understand it at all when spoken; but he had requested Mr. Robert Pritchard, auctioneer, of Bangor, to act as interpreter, and that gentleman had kindly consented to do so. He (the Coroner) was now prepared to hear any evidence that might be tendered to him, and which might throw any light on the unfortunate occurrence, the precise cause of which it would be desirable to ascertain. He had every intention that the inquiry should be a full and searching one.

‘Mr. Bright said that he had taken down a statement from Mr. Morse, one of the saloon passengers, which the Coroner might avail himself of if he thought it would be of any use to him.

‘The Coroner.—I shall examine the witness in the first instance myself.

‘The interpreter having taken the usual oath,

‘Mr. William Henry Morse, a saloon passenger, was sworn and examined by the Coroner.—I was a saloon passenger on board the “Royal Charter,” from Australia. That vessel was wrecked on this coast on Wednesday morning, the 26th ult. She sailed from Melbourne on the 26th of August last. The captain’s name was Taylor. The “Royal Charter” was bound to Liverpool. There were about sixty-one saloon passengers, including myself, and about three hundred second and third class. The vessel did not touch or call at any place before we were wrecked. She was said to be 3500 tons burden. I do not know what her register was. Her engines were 200 horse power. She had a full supply of coal and a full cargo. The crew consisted of one hundred and ten or one hundred and twelve persons, including officers. At no time was the vessel deficient in sailing, or in any other respect, up to the time of the wreck. We first saw land on the Monday morning. We saw the Irish coast then. That was at daybreak. We put some passengers on shore by a pilot-boat when we were off Cork—about thirteen. We passed Holyhead about four or half-past four on the evening of Tuesday, the 25th ult. No passengers were landed at Holyhead. The wind was blowing fresh off Holyhead. I do not know from what point, but it was rather ahead, and against us. We passed two or three lighthouses. The storm continued to increase, till at last it came to a perfect hurricane. She was drifting when the anchors were let go in sight of Point Lynas at about twelve at night. I cannot tell at what part of the vessel the anchors were let go, as I am not a nautical man. We had passed Point Lynas then, I believe. I do not know how far we had passed Point Lynas when the anchors were let go. I had no conversation with the captain during the hurricane, but I saw him. No one in my hearing made any remonstrance with him about turning back or going into any harbour. I saw him on deck, giving orders and directions, up to five o’clock on Tuesday evening. I was not much on deck myself after that time. There was nothing wrong that I knew of with the machinery of the vessel after the anchors were let go. There was nothing that I knew of wrong with the screw. She must have parted her first cable about two in the morning. The anchors were let down at ten or twelve o’clock. She parted her first anchor at, I think, two or three o’clock. She parted the other about an hour after. Lights and signals were “going” before we came to Point Lynas. Guns were fired and blue lights and rockets sent up, which were continued till daybreak on Wednesday morning. We struck on the rocks about three o’clock. I was below at the time. I do not know what part struck first, but I understood it to be the bow. The first shock was but a slight one. I went on deck once after that. She divided about daylight. She broke in two about seven or half-past seven o’clock. It was four or five hours from the time she first struck till she went to pieces. The hawser was out just before she went to pieces. One of the seamen took it on shore. I did not see him. I was in the saloon, and heard it. I saved myself by swimming. I was, I believe, washed on shore. I had no conversation with the captain after the vessel struck. He came down into the saloon, and spoke to some ladies. I believe I saw him in the cabin. He told the ladies there was no danger; that they would shortly be able to walk on shore. I heard him say that.

‘The Coroner.—I now come to a very painful part of the inquiry. Was Captain Taylor sober then?

‘Witness.—Perfectly sober.

‘The Coroner.—Had you seen him intoxicated before?

‘Witness.—Never at any time during the whole voyage, nor any of the officers of the ship. Everything was going on well till this accident occurred. I think the captain was aware of the part of the coast he was on; but he thought we were on a sandy beach. I did not hear him say that; I heard Captain Withers, one of the passengers, tell that to the ladies. Captain Withers was consulted by Captain Taylor, but I had no conversation with Captain Taylor after about three o’clock on the Monday.

‘The Coroner.—Mr. Bright, you can now put any question you like.

‘Examination by Mr. Bright.—There was a testimonial given to Captain Taylor by the passengers. All the saloon passengers except two joined in that testimonial. There was a slight difference between Captain Taylor and the second and third class passengers. This was, I believe, about their not being allowed to dance on the poop. After the anchors were let down I heard Captain Taylor speak cheeringly to the passengers. He was calm and collected while doing so. He was down two or three times after he cast the anchors, and exhibited the same calm and collected manner. He came down to cheer the ladies, and one time to order coffee. I partook of that coffee. I did not see Captain Taylor drink anything whatever that night. He was not at dinner with us on Tuesday evening. I heard him tell the ladies and other passengers in the saloon that he had been forward, and there was no strain on the cable. I do not know how far the vessel was from the rock when she struck, but the anchor was in sixteen fathoms of water.

‘Examined by Mr. John W. Mellor, solicitor, of Oldham (who asked the Coroner to pardon him if he exhibited any excitement, as he had lost a brother and cousin).—The testimonial was presented to Captain Taylor either on Saturday or Monday, I cannot say which. It was in the evening. After leaving Cork we took riggers on board from a steam tug; I do not know how many. We had had no weather so rough during the voyage as we had off this coast at the time of the wreck, or on the night of Tuesday, the 25th ult. I remember a storm off the River Plate. It was not so bad there as here during the wreck. Up to the time the ship had her anchors let go the weather was not so bad as it became afterwards. I think the storm off the River Plate was as bad as that which we had here previous to the anchors being let go. I do not know where the riggers were shipped; I only know from hearsay. I saw a vessel leaving the side of ours. I do not know how long the vessel lay off Queenstown; I think about two hours. I had no means of knowing accurately. I really cannot tell the hour of the last time I was on deck before the vessel struck. I was on deck once after dark and before she struck. I cannot tell the time, for, not expecting any accident, I took no particular notice. I do not know what part of the coast the ship was at; not being a nautical man I did not pay much attention to that. I did not, to my knowledge, see the captain on deck at that time. I was on deck several times after half-past three in the afternoon, but I did not speak to the captain after that hour. I saw him about three times. This was in the saloon. He was in the saloon at the time word was sent him that she had parted her anchor. I know nothing whatever about the management of a ship.

‘To the Coroner.—No one, in my hearing, asked the captain to turn to Holyhead or any other harbour, saying it would be dangerous to proceed.

‘To Mr. Mellor.—It was when the first anchor parted the captain was in the saloon. He had only shortly come down. The reason the captain did not dine with us that day was that he had been up for three or four nights, and was resting. The captain did not always dine with us.

‘The Coroner.—I cannot think that is material.

‘Mr. Mellor.—It may become so. The witness now says the captain had been up for two or three nights before, and before he said everything had gone right up to the accident. If everything had gone right, why was the captain up for two or three nights? (Laughter.) Gentlemen, this may be a laughing matter for you; it is none for me.

‘The Coroner.—The matter is not a laughing one for any one.

‘To Mr. Bright.—The captain might have been on deck without my seeing him. He left the saloon as soon as it was announced that the anchor had parted.

‘The Coroner.—I think it would be very convenient if the friends and relatives of parties combined and employed one solicitor to put all their questions.

‘A Relative.—There is no combination amongst us.

‘The Coroner.—I am only suggesting that there might be, so far as regards the employment of a solicitor, for my convenience and that of the public.

‘Mr. Mellor.—I should be happy, not as a matter of business, but as one of friendship, to put any question for a relative of any one who has been lost (applause).

‘Mr. Russell, one of the passengers, asked permission to make a statement in reference to what had been said about a difference between the captain and the second-class passengers. ‘Mr. Martin, one of the owners of the vessel, said that any statement made by a passenger ought to be on oath.

‘The Coroner.—It is better for Mr. Russell to reserve any observations he may have to make.

‘Mr. Bright observed that the tonnage of the “Royal Charter” was 2719 tons register, and her horse-power 200.

‘Mr. Thomas Carew Taylor said—I concur in the evidence given by Mr. Morse up to the time of our arriving off Cork. Some of the passengers were there sent ashore in a pilot-boat. While we were at dessert on Tuesday one of the stewards came and asked me if I would like to see the “Great Eastern.” This was about five o’clock, I think. It was then blowing very strong, almost a gale, and it was foggy weather. I do not recollect having seen Captain Taylor on deck the whole of that day. I might have seen him. I saw him after I jumped overboard, when the accident occurred. I saw him in the saloon after the vessel struck last. I saw him on deck when I jumped over. I saw him before daylight come into the saloon, and assure the ladies that they would be all on shore in ten minutes. I cannot tell how long this was before the vessel divided, because I was greatly frightened. Captain Withers joined him in what he said, and added, “Ladies, you will all be able to walk on shore.” Captain Taylor said that we were firmly embedded in the sands. I was deputed by some ladies to see some of the officers and get authentic information. The two captains seemed so cheerful that when I saw them I felt sure we should be saved. Captain Taylor made use of the expression, “We shall be left high and dry.” I felt so sure that all was safe that I went to bed at eleven, and lay there till I heard Captain Withers say to a lady, “I shall take your child.” The port anchor was out when I went to bed. He said, “Come directly; I shall take your child.” There was some answer to this, and Captain Withers said, “No, directly. There is no time to be lost.” His voice had awakened me, and I jumped out of bed. I heard it was half-past two o’clock. Then I opened my door and looked up and down the saloon. I saw no one; but I am sure it was to Mrs. Woodroff he spoke. I then felt the ship as if rubbing along the ground, and then there were three or four violent concussions. I immediately put on my greatcoat, trousers, and slippers, and ran up into the upper saloon. I found ladies and gentlemen in the greatest state of consternation. Mr. Hodge, the clergyman, was there, and they all prayed together. I went up to look for my nurse and child. The lobby of the saloon was so crammed that there was no chance of my being able to find my child there. I eventually found them. The bumping of the vessel continued and increased in rapidity and violence, and water began to come in in all directions, so that I was perfectly wet through for hours before I left the ship. I do not know what hour it was when I jumped overboard; but the man who saved me told me it was half-past seven. I was on deck when the vessel split. I was knocked down by the waves, and I saw Captain Taylor lying on the deck, where he had been knocked down by a wave. He had a rope round his waist and a log tied to the end of it. I said, “Oh, Captain Taylor, what a fearful scene this is!” He did not reply. Another wave came in on me. I flung off my greatcoat and jumped overboard. I got hold of a log of wood, on which there was a mainyard. I then got on the mainyard. I was washed off it twice. I was washed to the rock, and grasped the weed. I was twice washed away with weed in my hands. I was carried in a third time, and two or three men caught me by the point of the fingers, and prevented me from being carried out again. A man, named Robert Lewis, had me carried to his house, where I was treated with the greatest kindness by Lewis and his wife. My little daughter and also her nurse were lost. Captain Taylor was perfectly sober when I saw him, before I jumped overboard—as sober as a child three months old. I never saw him intoxicated, or anything approaching to it. He was rather averse to taking anything. I have frequently asked him to take a glass, and he declined on the ground that he had already had some. If I had thought he was intoxicated I should not have gone to bed and left my valuables away from me, and I have left all except ten sovereigns and my gold watch. I never heard any one suggest that he was on any occasion intoxicated, till I heard a man do so after this accident.

‘To Mr. Bright.—Captain Taylor had been knocked down by a wave when I saw him lying on the deck.

‘To Mr. Mellor.—I heard Captain Withers say once or twice during the voyage that there was some difficulty in steering the ship. I do not know whether Captain Taylor was present.

‘The Coroner did not think this was evidence.’ [The Coroner seems about equal in sagacity to his class.]

‘Mr. Mellor.—I think it is, sir, and I hope the press will think so.

‘The Coroner.—Unfortunately the press are not the jury here, and I think it is rather early for speeches.

‘Mr. Mellor.—Oh, sir, I am not going to make any speeches.

‘Examination by Mr. Mellor continued.—When Captain Taylor said all was right, Mrs. Fenwick sent for her children’s shoes and stockings, and put them on, that they might walk ashore. I felt in a state of uncertainty. I did not know what to think. Sometimes I thought one thing and sometimes another.

‘Mr. F. Thomas Gundy examined.—His evidence was corroborative of the foregoing.

‘The inquiry was then adjourned till next morning.

‘The inquest was resumed on Thursday morning at eleven o’clock. As on the previous day, the owners of the “Royal Charter,” Messrs. Gibb, Brights, and Martin, were present. Mr. Mellor, solicitor, of Oldham, again attended. The room in which the inquest was held was very much crowded.

‘The Coroner observed that he was not a nautical man himself, and asked Mr. Bright whether he had any gentleman present who could at a future stage of the inquiry give a professional opinion on matters connected with the management of the ship?

‘Mr. Bright.—I have, sir.

‘The Coroner said that, though the county paid for a large police force, he had, on the day before, been left without the assistance of even a single constable to see that the jury remained in their places and that order was preserved.

‘A constable who was present promised [!] to remain during the day.

‘Mr. Samuel Edward Gapper, examined by the Coroner.—I was a second-class passenger on board the “Royal Charter.” I have been working at threshing machines in New Zealand. The “Royal Charter” reached Queenstown about half-past one on Monday, the 24th October. Either eleven or thirteen passengers were sent on shore there. The vessel arrived off Holyhead about half-past four on Tuesday afternoon; it was hazy weather, and blowing fresh, when we arrived off Holyhead. There was a tug called the “United Kingdom” came up before we reached Holyhead, and put some men on board. I do not recollect seeing Captain Taylor on deck on Monday. I saw him many times on deck on Tuesday. It came on to blow very hard after we passed Holyhead. The wind was on our port bow. The first signal of distress or for pilots that I remember to have seen exhibited was put out about eight o’clock on Tuesday evening. I do not know the distinction between signals of distress and those for pilots. There were rockets and blue lights, and occasional guns were fired. The anchors were first let go about eleven o’clock; we had then passed Point Lynas. Previously to the anchors being let go, or at any time, I did not hear any one remonstrate with the captain about the course of the vessel or any one say she ought to be turned back. I should say she struck the rocks about half-past two in the morning, but I cannot remember to within a quarter of an hour. She parted her first anchor at about two o’clock. It would be impossible for me to say how far we were from shore when the first anchor was let go. One could not see from the poop to the other end of the ship. She first struck on the sands, and not on the rocks. It must have been six o’clock when she struck on the rocks. She was about three-quarters of an hour on the rocks before she went to pieces. The hawser was sent ashore as soon as it was light. I cannot say how it was sent ashore. I saw the captain on deck during the three-quarters of an hour that the ship was on the rocks. I was up and down the deck at least twenty times during the night, and saw the captain several times on the deck. In the intervals between the signals he was walking on the quarter-deck, with a telescope in his hand. The gun at last filled with water. The signals were continued up to the time the anchors were let go. I did not hear the captain speak while he was walking up and down. He appeared to be watching. He appeared to me to be perfectly sober, for though the ship was pitching heavily he did not stagger. At half-past four in the morning I heard him speak to the ladies in the saloon. He said, “Ladies, we are on shore, but I think we are on a sandy beach; with the help of God we shall all get on land when daylight appears;” or words to that effect.

‘Examined by Mr. Bright.—We could see the “Great Eastern,” but only very dimly, when we were off Holyhead. I cannot answer as to whether the wind was blowing a hurricane after we passed Point Lynas; but it was blowing tremendously. The wind shifted about ten o’clock. There was a captain on board named Adams. I was down stairs with him examining a chart of the coast about ten o’clock at night. He said he should not be surprised if we were on shore before morning, and, describing the operation of swimming with his hands, he said he thought we could not get off, and would have to do that. The vessel was then to the eastward of Point Lynas Light. I never saw Captain Taylor the worse for liquor on board.

‘Mr. Pitcher (a gentleman who has lost several relatives by the wreck).—Was there any request made of Captain Taylor on Tuesday to go near Holyhead, for that was out of his course?

‘Witness.—Yes; I heard persons in the second cabin say, they wished he would go close to Holyhead, so that we might see the “Great Eastern,” the men who came on board having told us that she lay there. The wind was blowing to the shore. I heard no orders given to put the ship out to sea.

‘The Coroner.—Did you hear any one ask Captain Taylor to go near Holyhead?

‘Witness.—I heard that that wish was expressed to him.

‘Mr. Mellor.—What was the answer of Captain Taylor?

‘The Coroner.—I think we are going too far.

‘Mr. Mellor.—If this was an inquiry against Captain Taylor, it would not be evidence, but as it is an inquiry into the cause of the death of other people, the answer ought to be taken even on hearsay for what it is worth.

‘The Coroner.—What was the effect of the answer carried back?

‘Witness.—That the captain said, we might sight the “Great Eastern,” but he must not stand away for it, as he wanted to get home.

‘By Mr. Mellor.—I knew the time I have mentioned principally by the changes of the ship’s watch. I cannot say there were no signals before eight o’clock. Those that I saw at that hour were the first I knew of. We had examined the chart three or four times with Captain Adams previously to the time I have mentioned. Point Lynas Light bore on the starboard quarter at ten o’clock. The chart was similar to the one you now show me, and we were in hopes when the anchors were snapped off. I do not know the exact hour when Captain Adams said he should not be surprised if we were on the shore before morning. It was after the anchors were let go.

‘Examination by Mr. Mellor resumed.—When off Holyhead we saw the “Great Eastern,” but very indistinctly. This was on account of the distance and of the thickness of the weather. It was not very thick. I cannot say it was very hazy. It was not dark before we were off Holyhead. The masts were cut after the anchors were broken from their moorings. I have no idea how soon after. The mainmast was cut away before the ship struck on the rock. Captain Withers, Captain Adams, and Captain Taylor consulted together; I know that because Mr. Croome, the fourth officer, came to the second cabin and took Captain Adams from my side to the consultation. Croome told Adams that Captain Withers was with Captain Taylor, and that they were waiting for him to consult together as to the best means of saving the ship. This was before the mainmast was cut away, and after the anchors had parted. There were two guns on board. Both were used for signals. The weather gun was full of salt water the last time they went to charge it. The vessel ceased to use the screw when she was hard and fast. She was lying for about half an hour near the rocks before she struck. She was lying on the sand from half-past five o’clock. No rocket was fired to the shore to carry a rope or anything else. I never saw any mortar on board for firing shells. It was so dark from half-past five to six o’clock that we could not see. I saw no preparations on board between half-past five and six o’clock for putting the passengers ashore, but I saw some of the passengers with life-belts on, and others putting them on at that time. I know of no light being shown from the ship’s deck between half-past five and six o’clock. I don’t think I was on deck during that time. Previously to half-past five I had seen a globe light at the telegraph which communicated with the engine-room. I remarked it because I had never seen a light there before. It was a globe light. Rockets and blue lights were let off at intervals during the whole night.

‘Mr. Mellor said it might be a convenience to the Coroner and the owners of the ship if he announced that he should confine himself to endeavouring to ascertain what was the ship’s course on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning previously to the wreck. There was another matter which he wished to ask, which was whether the “Royal Charter” had been altered at any time after she was built.

‘Mr. Bright.—No, sir, there was no—’ [No what?]

‘The Coroner.—Do not enter into an argument.

‘Mr. Bright.—I am prepared to give evidence as to her course; the vessel took—

‘Mr. Mellor.—I wished to give you notice of what I intend to ask.

‘The inquiry was then adjourned.’

At a later period in the day the inquiry was resumed.

‘George Suaicar, a Maltese, was examined. On the Scriptures being tendered to this witness, he asked what the book was, as he was a Roman Catholic. On it being explained to him that the book was a copy of the sacred Scripture, he said he felt an oath on it perfectly binding on his conscience. He was then sworn, and gave evidence similar to his statement at pp. 20-22.

‘William Foster, examined by the Coroner.—I was carpenter on board the “Royal Charter.” Nothing wrong occurred to the ship from the time she left Melbourne till she reached Queenstown, nor till we came up to Point Lynas on this coast. The wind was right ahead as we came from Holyhead, but I do not know in what point. It was blowing a good stiff breeze after we came off Holyhead. We were obliged to put out signals off Point Lynas, first for a pilot, and then signals of distress. She reached Point Lynas in the evening.

‘The inquiry was then adjourned till the following day.

‘The Coroner and jury assembled at a quarter before ten o’clock the next (Friday) morning, when

‘William Foster, the carpenter of the “Royal Charter,” proceeded with his evidence.

‘To the Coroner.—The “Royal Charter” was from half an hour to an hour on the rocks before she parted. She broke right off at the main-hatch, across the main-hatch. Previous to this a line had been sent ashore. There were villagers on the rocks when the hawser was cast ashore. Sixteen were sent ashore by the hawser. Those sixteen were a portion of the crew. More could have been got across only that there was a female in the forecastle who hesitated, and delayed, and dallied for half an hour. There were a great many on the forecastle at that time. In the end the female refused to go, and I went across myself, and about three of the crew after me. Some of the passengers were below in the saloon. A heavy sea broke across the starboard bow and swept every one from the forecastle—about sixty or seventy. During the whole time we were trying to wear and stay the ship, the captain was on board. I saw him frequently, and he was sober. I have been four or five voyages at sea. Considering the gale of that night, I do not think the captain could have done more than he did to save the vessel. I do not think I observed any change in the wind after we passed Point Lynas. I never mind the wind or the course of the vessel. The wind freshened and blew stronger and stronger. Took soundings. The lead was kept going the whole night, both hand and deep-sea leads. It is my duty to see that the vessel was making no water. She made no water after she first grounded.

‘To Mr. Mellor.—We could see Point Lynas Light when the anchors were dropped. I do not know how it bore. I cannot say how soon we lost sight of it afterwards. I think we were between three and four miles off shore when the ship dropped anchor. I cannot tell how far we were from where the ship first grounded when we dropped anchor.

‘To Mr. Bright.—I did’ [? not] ‘hear Suaicar say that the captain was drunk.

‘To the Coroner.—I have no recollection of seeing Mr. Mellor and Mr. Walsh at the cottage where Suaicar and I lodged yesterday week. There have been hundreds of people there. I never heard Suaicar tell Mr. Mellor that he had asked the captain to cut away the masts, and that the captain had refused. I never said that the captain was drunk, or anything to corroborate that statement.

‘Mr. John Brown Marsh, of Chester, said—I had a conversation with Suaicar about nine o’clock on the night of Thursday, the day after the wreck. Foster, the carpenter, was present at the time. After taking down Suaicar’s and Foster’s narratives in writing, I asked Suaicar whether he had anything more to tell me. He said—“Some man on the beach has been saying the captain was drunk, but he was as sober all the time as I am now. I should like to meet the man who says he was drunk.” He then added, “I was running about all night carrying messages from the captain to the officers, and from the officers to the crew, and I can swear he was not drunk.” I took these words down at the time.

‘Mr. Mellor here announced that he had received a letter from home announcing the death of another relative, and he was sorry to say that he must now leave Molfra.

‘The Coroner said he was sorry for the occurrence, as he should like Mr. Mellor to hear some remarks which he should feel it his duty to make to the jury. If the jury were satisfied that the captain was sober, it would not be necessary to examine the steward on that point.

‘The Jury said they were satisfied that the captain was sober.

‘The Coroner then asked, could any of the sailors give evidence as to the navigation of the vessel?

‘Mr. Bright observed that the common sailors did not understand this.’