CHAPTER I.

Previous

Leave Shields—Madras—Hired by government—Arrive at Chusan—Junks—Sickness—Number of Crew—Yeang-tze-keang—Boat breaks adrift—Wreck—Mr. Noble and child drowned—Mrs. Noble—Lieut. Douglas—Vessel rights—Jolly-boat returns—Chinese—Leave the wreck.

On Monday the 8th July, 1839, I left Shields for Bordeaux in the Kite, a beautiful brig of 281 tons, commanded by Mr. James Noble; built by, and belonging to, Messrs. T. and W. Smith of Newcastle. We arrived at Bordeaux after a three weeks passage, and lay there for two months. Sailed from thence on the 16th October for the Mauritius, with a cargo of wines, and arrived there after a passage of ninety-three days. Here we remained a month, and having landed the wines, sailed from thence to Madras in ballast; where the vessel was taken up by government, to carry stores to the British fleet destined for China: we then sailed for Trincomalee, at which place we took in some more stores, and then sailed for Singapore; where, on our arrival, we found the fleet had sailed several days before for Macao.

Whilst we lay at Singapore, the Melville 72, Blonde 42, and Pylades 18, arrived, and we received orders to sail for Macao immediately, at which place we arrived after a short passage, but were still behind the fleet, it having sailed some days before for Chusan. We received orders to follow it to Buffalo Island, where there was to be a man of war cruising to give us farther directions; but when we arrived at this island we found no vessel of any kind; and as we had had a very quick passage, Mr. Noble was afraid to proceed any further, as perhaps we might have passed the fleet, and arrived before it. We therefore brought the ship to an anchor, and lay there till the next afternoon, when the Melville and a transport arrived, upon which we got under weigh, and followed the Melville up to Chusan, where we arrived the day following, and anchored in the outer roads. We found the town in the possession of our own troops, who had taken it the day previous to our arrival: so that if we had not stopped at Buffalo Island, we should have been present at the attack; we heard the firing, and saw the blaze of the burning town whilst on our passage up.

The men-of-war junks which had fired on the Wellesley presented a most wretched appearance, being deserted—some sunk, and others with their masts shot away; and where a shot had struck the hull, it had not only passed completely through the vessel, but also through one or two houses ashore. There were not many Chinese to be seen, and the few that were still in the town, appeared of the very lowest grade. The town and harbour presented, nevertheless, rather a lively spectacle, as boats were constantly passing between the ships and the shore, disembarking troops of varied dress and nations. Two camps were very soon formed, one overlooking the town, and the other on a hill commanding the entrance into the harbour. Sickness soon began to make its appearance amongst the troops, particularly the Company's native regiments, brought on, I think, by inactivity, and by the dreadful smells of the town, as well as the effluvia arising from the imperfectly buried dead of the Chinese; whilst those who were on board ship, constantly at work, and yet drinking the same bad water, were not affected in nearly so serious a manner.

We lay at Chusan for about a month; during which time Admiral Elliot and Commodore Bremer were several times on board of the Kite; and approving of her, all the stores were taken out, and four 32 pounders were put in the hold, as many Chinese guns as we could obtain, seven two-tun tanks, and between 30 and 40 water-casks, all for ballast. After this we received six 12 pound carronades, seven marines, five first-class boys, from the Melville; and Lieut. Douglas, R. N. came and took the command. Our crew at this time consisted of the master, Mr. Noble; the mate, Mr. Witts; and us four apprentices, viz.—Henry Twizell (acting as second mate), Pellew Webb, Wm. Wombwell, and myself; one Englishman; an Italian; and a Manilla man; ten Lascars; and our cook, who was a native of Calcutta, but not a Lascar; Lieut. Douglas, with the seven marines, and five boys, from the Melville, making in all thirty-three. Mrs. Noble and her child, a boy of about five months old, were also on board.

A short time after Lieut. Douglas hoisted his pennant, we sailed with despatches for the Conway 28, which with the Algerine 10 gun brig, and a small schooner called the Hebe, was surveying the Yeang-tze-keang river, and the adjacent sea. In sailing up this river, we found the charts very incorrect, and at last got on a bank, where we remained for several days until the Conway and the other vessels arrived. We had passed these vessels whilst they were lying at anchor, in one of the numerous creeks at the entrance of the river. The schooner drawing the least water came and assisted us off; and as the Kite drew ten feet water, she was of little use in surveying; we were therefore sent back on Saturday, the 12th of September, 1840, with despatches for Chusan. One marine and a boy died of dysentery whilst we were on the bank.

We brought up that night, and got under weigh next afternoon; anchored again at dusk, and very unfortunately, just before daybreak, our jolly-boat broke adrift, and was carried away by the tide. The gig was manned, and sent after her, and we followed in the vessel, as soon as we could get our anchor: we picked up both boats, but not without a great deal of trouble; the gig we hoisted up on the starboard quarter, and the jolly-boat was towed astern. We anchored again at night, and next morning started with a fine fair wind, expecting to be at Chusan in a day or two. At this time all the marines but one, two of the first-class boys, and Webb and Wombwell, were ill of the dysentery, leaving very few hands to work the ship.

At nine o'clock on Tuesday morning, the 15th of September, I was relieved from the wheel, and went below to look after Webb and Wombwell, and to get my breakfast. About half past eleven, whilst attending on the sick, I heard the master order the anchor to be let go. I immediately jumped on deck, ran forward, and let go the stopper; the vessel was now striking heavily aft, all the chain on deck (about sixty fathoms) ran out with so much velocity that the windlass caught fire. The vessel being by the stem, and catching the ground there, the anchor holding her forward, she could not get end on to the tide, and was consequently broadside on, and as it was running like a sluice, she was capsized in a moment. When the anchor was let go, Twizell and I ran aft, let go the main top-gallant and top-sail haulyards, and were clewing the yards down with the larboard clewlines, when I felt the ship going over. I directly seized hold of the main topmast backstay, and swung myself on to her side, as she was falling: Twizell caught hold of one of the shrouds of the main rigging, and did the same. At this moment I suppose Mr. Noble to have been thrown overboard—I heard him call out to his wife, "Hold on Anne," but did not see him, and the tide must have carried him away, and of course he was drowned.[1]

My first thought now was for the sick people down below, who I feared must all be drowned, as the vessel was completely on her side, and her tops resting on the sand. On looking aft, I saw a person struggling in the water, and apparently entangled amongst the sails and rigging; I got the bight of the mainbrace and threw to him, and with some difficulty hauled him on board; but he was only saved then to die a lingering death at a later period at Ningpo. On looking round, I was rejoiced to see the sick people (who I had concluded were all drowned) crawling up the fore and main-hatchways, and immediately assisted them to get on the vessel's side; the greater part were nearly naked, having been lying in their hammocks at the moment she capsized, and out of which some were thrown. I now saw Lieutenant Douglas and the mate dragging Mrs. Noble into the jolly-boat, which had dropped alongside; the two Lascar cabin-boys,[2] who were in the boat, were casting her adrift; she was full of water, and likely to capsize every moment. I threw my knife to them to cut the towlines, and they, having effected this, were swept away, Lieut. Douglas calling to us to cut away the long-boat, which was still on deck. The time between the first going over of the ship, and the drifting away of the jolly-boat, was only three or four minutes, though by this account it may seem to have been much longer.

Illustration

Drawn by C. H. Greenhill. Engraved by W. Lee.

The gig, being hoisted up on the starboard quarter, was lost to us when the ship fell over, and we could not cut away the long-boat from the manner in which the guns were hanging: we, however, contrived to cut the foremast lashing, and made her painter fast to the main rigging, hoping she would fall off, and that it would hold her. The tide was now rushing down the hatchways: in a short time the boat fell out of the chocks, but the strength of the tide was so great that the line, or painter, snapped, and she was carried away. The weight of water in the sails carried away the maintopmast, (just above the cap,) the foremast, and the bowsprit; the part of the foremast below the deck afterwards shot right up, and floated away, leaving only the mainmast standing, and from the weight of wreck hanging to it, we expected that to go also.

We had now nothing but death to look forward to, as the tide was rising fast, and would inevitably in a short time sweep us off her side, where we were all collected to the number of twenty-six, and only myself and one or two more free from dysentery. I expected so soon to be swept away, that I threw off my trousers and prepared for a swim, as I could see the land just on the horizon, and at any rate it was better to die endeavouring to save myself, than to be drowned without making any exertion. Most providentially, the brig righted gradually, until the mast lay in an angle of about forty-five degrees, and enabled us to get, some in the maintop, (where we found a little dog belonging to the mate,) and others on the mainyard. As soon as we got aloft, we began cutting the sails away, as they held an immense quantity of water, and would most likely on that account, cause the loss of the mast; we cut away the mainsail, trysail, and maintopsail, leaving only the masts and yards to hang on the mainmast, as with these we intended to make a raft.

The tide continued rising upon us, until half the top was under water, and hope was almost dead within us, when to our inexpressible joy, we found the tide ceased to flow; no time was however to be lost, as in these places there is very little slack water, so we that could swim, immediately set to work, and collected all the spars and booms, masts and yards, we could, (for the rigging still held the topmast, &c.,) intending, when the tide had ebbed enough, to get on the wreck, which we expected would be almost dry at low water, and make a stout raft. We could see some fishing-boats in the distance; but these, though they must have seen our disastrous situation, appeared to make no attempt to come to our assistance.

From so many being sick, and from the Lascars refusing to assist us, we had very few left to work, and before we had collected many spars, the ebb tide began to run so strong, that we were obliged to leave off, and take to the maintop again; the spars we did get, we secured together, and made fast in such a manner that the tide could not carry them away. We now sat down again on the top, with hearts most thankful that we had still a little hope left. This was about four in the afternoon, and in half an hour or so afterwards, the jolly-boat came in sight;[3] they had cleared her of water, and they let go the grapnel just abreast of us. Mrs. Noble waved her handkerchief, but the tide was so strong that they were driven past, completely out of our sight, without being able to render us the least assistance, or even being near enough to speak to us. This was a most cruel disappointment; but we had still our raft to look forward to, and knowing that Mrs. Noble and Lieut. Douglas were still alive was some consolation to us; so we cheered one another in the best manner we could, relying upon Him who was able to save us from this apparently certain destruction.

By the time we could begin our work again, it was very dark, but we knew we should soon have a bright moon; so we set to work cheerfully, and had succeeded in collecting and lashing together a good many spars as a raft, when, to our great surprise, we found ourselves surrounded by Chinese boats, two of them large ones, and full of soldiers.

We all saw that resistance, if they attacked us, would be perfectly useless, and thought it would be better to trust to them than to the waves, so as they all seemed more intent upon plunder than upon us, Twizell and I, two or three of the marines, two of the first-class boys, and the greater part of the Lascars, jumped into one boat, and the rest, with Webb and Wombwell, got into another. The Chinese wished us very much to get out again, but this we would not think of doing, as stopping by the vessel for another tide was quite impossible.

Finding that we were determined not to remain by the wreck, the Chinese gave in, and shoved off. To our great surprise, we had not gone a few yards when our junk was aground. The other boat made sail, and stood away. The men in our junk made signs for us to get out, when we again refused, fearing, if we did, they would leave us there; and not liking the idea of remaining on a sand, which we knew the flood tide would cover. To have stopped by the wreck would have been preferable to this.

We continued sitting in the boat, until one of the Chinese jumped out, and, taking his lantern, made signs to us to follow him; this we consented to do, and taking care not to let our guide get away from us, we went across the sand for about two miles, with the water sometimes above our knees, and sometimes only a little above our ankles. At last we arrived at another large boat, which was aground and apparently waiting for the tide to float her. Our guide made signs for us to get into this boat, and that we should be taken ashore in her. This we did, and lay down to take a little rest, grateful that we had been enabled to save our lives, at least for the present.

We hoped that by some means or other we might reach Ningpo, where two English ships were cruising, and we knew that, if we could only once reach them, we were perfectly safe; but we had a very vague idea where we were, though we half suspected we were on the island of Ningpo; we afterwards found our suppositions to be correct.

It was now midnight, and when we left the wreck we could walk on her side, it being only six or eight inches below the surface.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] These two boys told me, when in prison at Ningpo, that when the brig upset, everything in the cabin fell to the starboard side, where the child was sleeping; that they could not get out at the door, but got out at the skylight, leaving the poor baby to its fate, and got into the boat, which was then on the starboard quarter.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page