Chapter II: Part 2

'The loss of life on this sad occasion was 459 persons. The "Royal
Charter" had on board a large quantity of specie on freight, the
exact amount of which cannot be ascertained, as all the ship's
papers have been lost, but it was variously estimated by the
surviving passengers and crew at from 500,000_l._ to 800,000_l._ One
of the saloon passengers, who was drowned, was stated to have had in
his possession gold to the value of 10,000_l._ She had only a
moderate cargo, principally of wool and skins.' [Did the small cargo
have anything to do with the loss of the vessel? Would she, if more
heavily laden, have drifted so rapidly upon the rocks?] 'From the
time of leaving Port Phillip Heads till the arrival off the Irish
coast the passage was in the highest degree favourable; she was only
once in danger, and then from an iceberg. After passing Queenstown
the wind veered round to E.N.E., blowing strong. On Tuesday night it
blew a gale, and continued to increase in violence, till at length,
on the morning of the fatal disaster, it became a perfect hurricane.
Arriving off Point Lynas at six P.M. on Tuesday evening, signal
rockets were for several hours thrown up, in the hope of attracting
a pilot, but none made their appearance. Captain Taylor, finding
that his ship was making leeway, and gradually drifting towards the
shore, let go both the anchors, but such was the violence of the
wind, and the heavy cross sea prevailing, that the chains parted.'
[The same night the "Great Eastern" was all but lost through one of
her massive cables snapping.] 'Notwithstanding that the engines were
worked at their full power, the captain was unable to work to
windward, and the unfortunate vessel struck the rocks stern first in
four fathoms water. Up to this period (about three A.M.) not the
slightest alarm was evinced among the passengers, a large portion of
whom were women and children. The most perfect discipline and order
prevailed. The masts and rigging were cut adrift, but caused no
relief, as the ship continued to thump on the sharp-pointed rocks
with fearful rapidity.

'Shortly after she struck, the ship was thrown broadside on,
perfectly upright upon the shelving stony beach, the head and stern
lying due east and west, the former not being more than twenty yards
from a projecting rock. At this juncture one of the crew, a Maltese,
named Joseph Rogers, nobly volunteered to struggle through the heavy
surf and convey a rope on shore. Though it was not believed by any
one that danger was imminent, the captain gave the order, and Rogers
ably fulfilled his duty. A strong hawser was then passed and secured
on shore, and to this was rigged a "boatswain's chair." At five
o'clock the ship laboured and bumped to such an extent that the
ladies and children exhibited the greatest anxiety and fear: they
crowded together in the after part of the saloon, and the Rev. Mr.
Hodge, of East Retford, a Clergyman of the Church of England,
offered up a prayer; but his exhortations were interrupted by the
violent thumping of the vessel on the rocks, and the heavy seas
which came dashing into the cabin.' [Throughout the passage, this
reverend gentleman had administered religious service, and had made
so many friendships that his fellow-passengers had presented him
with a testimonial.] 'The scene in the saloon was of the most
heartrending description; children and parents, husbands and wives,
were clinging to each other in affectionate embrace. Captain Taylor
and Captain Withers came down and tried to allay their fears by
assuring them that there was no immediate danger. Scarcely had their
words been uttered before a succession of tremendous waves swung her
about on the rocks, and she divided amidships, engulfing all on
board. Shortly afterwards she also parted at the forehatch, throwing
a large number of persons into the sea. Many were killed by the
breaking up of the ship. Several of the crew saved themselves by
means of the hawser to the shore, while the remainder were hurled
upon the rocks by the waves. All the officers perished. Captain
Taylor was the last man seen alive on board. He had lashed his body
to a spar and was drowned.' [Some affirm he was killed, after he
was in the sea, by a boat falling from its davits. It is said he and
Mr. Cowie, the second officer, were seen together, and that the boat
struck both at once. Mr. Stevens, the first officer, and Mr. Rogers,
the chief engineer, were--runs the main body of testimony--also
killed together by the falling of a suspended boat upon the deck.]
'Mr. Stevens, the chief officer, was killed, it is thought, by the
falling rigging. Several of the more fortunate passengers received
severe injuries while struggling for life. With the exception of a
portion of the midship bulkhead, which appears a few feet above the
water, there is scarcely a vestige of the "Royal Charter" remaining.
The bullion chest, which was substantially built of iron, and
secured to the framing of the ship, is supposed to have been
shattered, from the fact of a gold box having been picked up with
the address of a leading banking firm upon it.' [The subsequent
operations of the divers have, up to the time I am writing, tended
to confirm this hypothesis, although assurances at fifty, sixty, and
eighty per cent. are still being effected at Lloyd's.]

'About two hundred and fifty sovereigns and a quantity of notes had
been picked up among the rocks.

'At least thirty bodies which have been cast ashore are lying in the
adjacent church; most of them are frightfully mutilated. William
Hughes, the only apprentice saved, states that when the vessel
parted he was in the waist, and was precipitated among the
machinery, which was hurled to and fro by the action of the waves.
He had given himself up for lost, when a wave lifted him clear of
the ship, and landed him in an unconscious state. The survivors
during their stay at the scene of the wreck were very kindly
treated. Two ladies made themselves conspicuous by their attention
to the sufferers. It is stated that all the boats were in perfect
readiness for lowering had circumstances permitted.' [Some of the
passengers say the boats _were_ launched, and were dashed to pieces
on the rocks.]

The second correspondent's letter is equally interesting. Of course a number of persons describing one event will, as has been often pointed out, fall into discrepancies of statement. It is not for me to make the reports uniform. I have thrown in a parenthetical explanation here and there; but otherwise the several newspapers must speak for, and explain, themselves. The second communication runs thus:--

'The "Royal Charter" did not, as was at first stated, strike the
ground in Red Wharf Bay, but a place between that point and Amlwch.
It is a small opening in the coast, the beach being chiefly sand and
stones. It is to the west of Point Lynas, and known as Molfra, a
village in the immediate locality, being of that name. The coast is
thinly inhabited, and the land flat and uncultivated. Very soon
after the fatal catastrophe, which resulted in such an awful
sacrifice of human life, the vessel broke up, and nothing remains
but pieces of the wreck, which were moved to and fro by the action
of the tide. As one of the seamen described it, she broke up like a
bandbox.

'Those of the crew and passengers who escaped were provided with
temporary accommodation in the neighbouring cottages, where they
received every mark of kindness from the inhabitants. During the day
most of them left the place, and were conveyed to Liverpool in
steam-tugs sent out by the owners of the ship.' [And were, it is
said, shamefully treated after their arrival. But of this in time.]
'Last (Friday) evening only one passenger remained, Mr. Russell,
with the boatswain's mate and the carpenter of the ship. Many
persons visited the scene of the wreck yesterday, and were making
anxious inquiries as to the fate of relatives and friends. For this
purpose every facility was afforded. Some of the scenes arising out
of these inquiries amongst those deprived of their nearest relatives
and friends were affecting in the extreme. Shortly after the wreck
several of the bodies of the unfortunate sufferers by the calamity
floated upon the beach; subsequently others were picked up, and the
number amounted at a late hour last evening to twenty-six. Of these,
five were females, and two of them young children. The bodies were
conveyed to Llanallgo church, and carefully laid out on straw, so as
to afford an opportunity for identification. Some had on their
clothing, while others were only partially dressed, as though when
the vessel struck they had been in their berths, and rushed suddenly
to the deck in a state of alarm on being made acquainted with the
perilous position of the ship. Many of the bodies bore evidence of
injuries, probably sustained from being dashed against the rocks, or
coming into violent contact with portions of the wreck. One man had
nearly all his limbs broken, and the body had, as it were, to be
gathered up. Another was without the head, and several were much
bruised on various parts of the body. Some small boats and papers
were picked up yesterday on the beach. One of the papers appeared to
be a diary kept by a passenger on board, supposed to be a clergyman
of Nottingham. The various incidents of the voyage, from the time
of leaving Melbourne until the arrival at Queenstown, were carefully
recorded by the writer.' [This is doubtless Mr. Hodge, a good man
who _would_ keep a diary.] 'The riggers previously referred to as
being on board the "Royal Charter" when she grounded have lost six
of their number, namely, James O'Neill, Richard Morris, William
Thomas, Peter Topping, Thomas Corcoran, and Henry White. Those saved
are James White, Patrick Devine, ---- Pritchard, Thomas Cunningham,
and William Burton. Some of them swam ashore, and others succeeded
in saving themselves by the aid of the hawser. So far none of the
passengers' luggage or articles of a similar kind have been washed
on shore.' [Much was afterwards found, as will be seen.] 'A few
articles of male and female attire have been collected, and these
are taken care of by the officers of police and coast-guard now on
duty. The services of the Anglesea militia have also been called
into requisition, to assist in the protection of any property
received, and also in the removal of the bodies washed up on the
shore. The position of the vessel at the time of the catastrophe,
and whether or not blame attaches to the captain or his officers,
were subjects of comment amongst many of those who visited the spot
yesterday. At present it would be unfair to give currency to these
remarks, seeing that the matter will undergo a strict investigation
at the coroner's inquest. The number of persons saved is now stated
to be thirty-nine; and of these, twenty-one are passengers, and the
remainder belong to the crew. Only very few of the bodies recovered
have yet been identified. A gentleman attended yesterday, to make
inquiry as to his wife, whom he supposed to be on board the "Royal
Charter." The body of his beloved partner was not amongst those
lying in the church, but on a closer investigation, his eye fell on
the corpse of a faithful servant, who, he felt sure, would accompany
his wife on the voyage. This fact too truly told the mournful
result.

'The man who swam on shore with the hawser was a Maltese, and not a
Portuguese, as first said. He lost everything he possessed, and
swooned when he reached land.'

Depend upon it that man ("heroism has no country") will be rewarded. We shall not do here as was done in Sydney when the 'Dunbar' was lost,--allow our sympathy to expend itself upon the saved to the all but utter forgetfulness of the saviour.

A third and a later newspaper reporter's letter must find a place:--

'MOLFRA VILLAGE, REDWHARF BAY, SATURDAY.--Who does not shudder at
the mention of a shipwreck? In Llanallgo church, about a mile from
the desolate coast on which the unfortunate "Royal Charter" has gone
on shore, lie about thirty distorted and mangled bodies, and to that
locality anxious and distracted relatives crowded early yesterday
morning. At another church hard by, which is known as Penrhos, there
were also the bodies of two children and two ladies laid out; and
the anxiety of friends may be gathered when it is stated that
through pelting and incessant rain, over almost inaccessible roads,
for more than fifteen miles, hundreds of people wended their way to
the _locus in quo_ of the wreck.

'This has been pronounced the most dreadful occurrence of the kind
that has happened on this coast. Perhaps it is the most terrible
marine disaster that has ever happened anywhere. So complete is the
wreck, that Captain Fell says in his _naïve_ nautical style, that he
has been seventeen years "at this sort of work," but never saw a
vessel so completely destroyed. The size of the ship, too, and the
number of persons lost, render it an unexampled calamity.

'Captain Fell, from Lloyd's, was in attendance early yesterday
(Friday) morning, at Molfra or Moelfra, deputed to make inquiries
for the underwriters. The vessel had on board 49,000_l._ in specie,
79,000 oz. in gold, valued at 320,000_l._, making a total of
369,000_l._, besides a large quantity of money in the hands of the
passengers. The excitement at Lloyd's on the arrival of the
disastrous intelligence is described by Captain Fell as intense, the
confidence from the first in the ship's sailing qualities being so
great that insurances were taken at 80_s._ per cent. As an
indication of the wealth in the hands of the crew and passengers, it
may be mentioned that torn and dilapidated garments have been picked
up on the shore, some of which contain considerable amounts of
money, watches, and other valuables. Intimation was early given of
the danger in which the ship was placed, but though little hope was
entertained of the safety of the vessel herself, every one seems to
have retained a hope of life, and rushed to his and her valuables
and money, and sought safety with as little encumbrance in the shape
of clothing as possible.'

And yet another communication, though only of a few lines, must be given. It were easy to write a most pathetic prolusion to it, but I prefer to let it stand in its nude significance:--

'LIVERPOOL, SUNDAY MORNING.--This banquet (that is, a Grand
Conservative Banquet to the Earl of Derby and Mr. Disraeli), which
during the last two months has been anticipated with so much
interest by the whole Conservative party, is just concluded....
Altogether the general effect was remarkably brilliant and
picturesque. It ought to be remarked, however, that many persons of
position were absent on account of the wreck of the "Royal Charter."
The calamity has cast a perceptible gloom over the town, and at the
beginning of the banquet the conversation rather turned on the
catastrophe than on politics. Some thought the banquet ought never
to have been held; but the news of the accident arriving so near the
day, it was impossible to delay it: otherwise there is no doubt it
would have been postponed.'

That one brief paragraph will attest to the colony how deep is the sympathy entertained in England for the friends of those who are lost. Had it been practicable to put off the feast to a more convenient season it would have been done. The committee met and considered the matter, and found it was impossible. The shadow of the lost ship, however, rested upon the banquet!

How could it be otherwise? The day before, the inquest on the bodies of some of the lost voyagers had been opened, and the following heartrending description of it appeared in the Saturday's papers which the banqueters must have bought on their way, from all parts of the country, to Liverpool:--

'THE INQUEST.--The inquest on the bodies was commenced yesterday
(Friday) afternoon, at Llanallgo church, before Mr. William Jones,
coroner of Anglesea, and a jury who were sworn in Welsh. It was an
impressive sight when the coroner, standing at the communion table,
surrounded by the group of dead and mangled corpses, amid the
audible sobs of those who had recognized their friends, commenced
his melancholy task.

'Mr. Moore, solicitor of Warrington, before the opening of the
inquest, asked the coroner what course he intended to pursue.

'The coroner thought he should be satisfied, under the melancholy
circumstances, with the identification of the bodies.

'Mr. Bright, of the company owning the vessel, undertook to have any
of the surviving crew present who would be able to give any
information.

'Mr. James Russell, who said his father lived in Linlithgowshire,
and who was one of the passengers who escaped, recognized John
Smith, son of Edmund Smith, Mrs. Woodroff (companion to Mrs.
Forster, also in the vessel and lost), Catherine Margaret Russell,
and Richard Reed. Mr. Forster lives at Grindlow House, Manchester,
Mrs. Woodroff's husband is expected home by the "George Marshall."
Richard Walton, of 22 Duckworth Street, Brunswick Road, Liverpool,
identified his brother James, between 21 and 22. Thomas Outerside, 6
Clare Street, Liverpool, printer, identified John Emery, Stone,
Staffordshire.

'The coroner then proceeded to Penrhos church, where he also charged
the jury with the investigation into the circumstances of the death
of the bodies lying there. The inquests were adjourned until
Wednesday.' [Later proceedings before the coroner, will be found
elsewhere.] 'In reply to an application, the coroner undertook to
have an interpreter provided.

'Several parties were present who stated they were prepared to
vindicate the character and memory of Captain Taylor. The vessel it
was stated, made no water until it broke up. The ladies it was
arranged, should go first; but before opening the saloon doors, the
vessel parted in two and stopped all communication.

'Mr. Samuel Henry, a jeweller from Adelaide, who had been confined
on the ground that he was insane, was amongst the number in
Llanallgo church. Mr. Glover, a gentleman of fortune (from Adelaide,
it is said), who was coming to England for the purpose of consulting
some skilled oculist, is also amongst the number, and a large sum of
money was found on his person. Writing-desks, likenesses, letters, a
part of the post-office, and various other relics, have been washed
up.'

The touching allusion to the likenesses and letters leads naturally to the following (further) particulars from the scene of the calamity:--

'MOLFRA BAY, Tuesday, Nov. the 2nd.--It is necessary that the
public should be on their guard against the rumours in circulation
as to the discoveries made by the divers who commenced operations on
Sunday. It was reported as an established fact in Bangor last night
that one of the divers had entered the saloon of the "Royal
Charter," and there found about 200 passengers in the positions they
occupied when the ship went down; some sitting round the table,
others standing upright, and others as if in the act of coming from
their berths. A similar story was told some six or seven years ago,
after the wreck of a large steamer off the Bailey Light, Hill of
Howth. Indeed, in that case, the diver was made to describe some of
the passengers as in the act of lifting glasses to their mouths. The
lie was printed, and obtained very general circulation before it was
contradicted. The less detailed account is in the present case
equally destitute of foundation. Two experienced divers, who came
from Liverpool in the steam-tug "Fury," the property of Gibb,
Brights, and Co., made a descent yesterday, and remained a
considerable time under the water, but they saw no corpses beneath;
neither did they find any gold; but they saw some copper. This
morning they resumed their descents under very favourable
circumstances as regards weather and the state of the sea. They have
discovered no bodies; but up to one o'clock this afternoon they had
succeeded, with the assistance given them by men on board the
steam-tug, in raising about three tons of copper bars. These bars
have undergone some smelting, but are not in a finished state. There
is a good deal of silver mixed with the copper. At one o'clock the
divers suspended operations for a short rest and refreshment. They
resumed after about an hour's interval.

'Some additional articles of wearing apparel, with spars, etc., have
been cast upon the beach. One or two canvas huts have been erected
on the remnants of masts, and in front of one of these such articles
as have names on them, or would otherwise serve for purposes of
identification, are spread out in melancholy array. Amongst them are
seven photographs, two of men, two of ladies, two of children, and
one landscape. None of these have as yet been identified as
portraits of individuals whose friends have arrived at the scene of
the wreck. There is a stocking with the name "Jane Murray," and
another with the name "F. Davis" upon it. There is a portion of a
shirt, with the name "J. E. Smith," and another with the name "R.
Thornhill," followed by the date "1846." A large, coarse wrapper has
the inscription "C. R. Ross, passenger, 'Royal Charter,'" painted in
black letters upon it. On a piece of a shirt, "E. Fenwick;" on
another, "John Lees, 1855." On a piece of a stocking, "T. W.;" and
on a small piece of linen, "T. G." There are a number of visiting
cards spread on a piece of wood: one has the inscription, "Mr.
Eddowes, 146 Cambridge-street, Pimlico;" another, "Mr. Sam. Moxley
Wade, Low, and Cill, Liverpool." On a piece of linen is "James
Davis, Woodside, 1859." The whole scene of the wreck is an extremely
melancholy one; but a peculiarly affecting incident took place
to-day. A poor young woman was searching along the beach to
endeavour to find some trace of her husband, about whose fate she
was uncertain. She discovered a waistcoat which had just been washed
in, and which had been hung up in front of the tent by one of the
coast-guard. Almost frantically, she pulled it down. It proved to be
that of her husband, a man named Barrett, who had been painter
aboard the "Royal Charter." The grief of the poor widow was
heartrending to witness. Some of the standers-by, in an attempt to
comfort her, suggested that she might be mistaken. "Oh, no," said
she, "here is my own work upon it. My husband, my husband! God, look
down upon me!" Amongst those who anxiously inspected this relic was
the Rev. Mr. Lewis, a Wesleyan minister. Two of his brothers were
aboard the ship--one as purser. Their arrival at Queenstown had been
telegraphed to their aged mother, who wrote to the rev. gentleman to
meet them at Liverpool. He now, poor fellow, paces the shore at
Molfra Bay to watch for the dead bodies. Five bodies were washed
ashore at Molfra, and seven at Penmaenmaur yesterday. None of these
have as yet been identified. No bodies have been washed up to-day.
Several of the dead persons have already been interred in Molfra and
Llanallgo churchyards. The wreck remains in precisely the state as
she was on Wednesday last when the coast-guard from Amlwch were put
in charge. At low water a good piece of her hull is visible. At high
water there are only portions of two of the masts. As the officials
along the line of the London and North-Western Railway are besieged
with inquiries as to where Molfra Bay is, it may be as well to state
that the nearest approach to it for any person not in the island of
Anglesey, is from Bangor railway station. It is fourteen miles from
Bangor, over a horrible road, with most expensive posting. There is
no mode of communicating with London from it but through Bangor, and
there are no public conveyances of any kind. But, notwithstanding
this, great numbers are visiting the scene. On the whole, the people
in the neighbourhood are reported to have acted very well. Several
sums of money found by them have been given up to the coast-guard.
The fragments of the spars, and even of the mainmast, seem as if
they had been smashed into small pieces by some crushing blade
impelled by steam power. If an army of giants had fallen to to hew
up the ship it could not have presented a more fragmentary
appearance.'

A correspondent of the _Manchester Guardian_ describes the wreck from the same stand-point. He says:--

'Immediately after the adjournment of the inquest, on Friday, orders
were given for the interment of the bodies which had been
identified; the remainder were kept throughout the whole of
Saturday, and every hour brought a fresh accession of visitors bent
on the melancholy errand of inquiry after missing friends. The
distortion and disfigurement of the bodies consequent on drowning,
and the absence of clothing, made the examination necessarily more
minute and painful; but in some instances the features and limbs
were mangled from violent dashing against the rocks, and recognition
of friends was almost impossible. Mr. Bradbury, a survivor,
describes one of the young ladies whose bodies were lying in Penrhos
church as the recognized _belle_ of the vessel, and the charm and
admiration of a large circle. Mrs. Foster, who is among the lost,
had gone to Australia to superintend the sale of some land, and it
is conjectured that she had with her the whole of the proceeds of
the sale. Her companion, Mrs. Woodroff, who has been identified, was
the wife of an innkeeper in Melbourne: her husband is expected to
follow her. Among the company at Bangor was an elderly gentleman
from Gloucestershire, named Wright, who had heard of the wreck at
Liverpool, where he had come in expectation of meeting his son, Mr.
Iles Wright, of Evesham, who was the surgeon of the ship, and who
had written from Queenstown anticipatory of his arrival.

'At low water the remaining portion of the hull of the vessel is
quite discernible, and when the neap tides prevail it is expected
that much of the treasure and many more bodies will be recovered.
The fact that so few, proportionately to the number lost, have been
recovered has occasioned much wonder, and is variously accounted
for. The partition of the vessel is supposed by some to have
enclosed the bodies as in a box. The _débris_ of the wreck lies
scattered about the shore, the woodwork being literally nothing but
chips. The exact position of the wreck is about a mile and a half
from the Llanallgo church, where most of the bodies are lying. The
Anglesea militia, the coast-guard, and a body of police are placed
there for the protection of the property washed on shore, and a
temporary shed is constructed on the shore. The nearest dwellings to
the wreck are at Molfra village, which is more than half a mile from
the spot. Captain Fell and a staff from Lloyd's are located there.
At the inquest, which is adjourned to Wednesday, a strict
examination is expected to take place into the statement made of the
captain being intoxicated at the time of the fearful disaster. The
statement is broadly made by some of the survivors; but the owners
of the vessel and some nautical men say they can triumphantly
vindicate the memory of the deceased.

'Among the Lancashire people lost in the vessel whose friends came
to seek for them on hearing of the wreck, were Mr. Casper Lewin,
nephew of Mr. Adam Casper, of Market Street, Manchester; Miss
Wrigley, Byron Street, Manchester; Mr. and Mrs. Kirkbride,
Liverpool; and Mrs. Robinson, of Southport, wife of the editor of
one of the Melbourne newspapers.'

In a letter dated 'Molfra, Wednesday afternoon,' another writer says:--

'Four more bodies, all males, have been cast ashore since my
communication of yesterday--one last night and three this morning.
Three of them are now lying in the parish church of Llanallgo; the
remaining body has been removed to the church of Penrhos Lligny,
having been thrown ashore in the latter parish. All yesterday
evening a very heavy sea rolled; and about four o'clock the
lifeboat, manned by a crew of eight, put out to rescue those on
board a brigantine, which was observed to be rapidly approaching the
rocks a little to the north of the spot in Dulas Bay, in which the
wreck of the "Royal Charter" lies. The brigantine, however, got
safely in on the sands, in a little creek about a mile from Molfra,
where she now lies. As the waves beat violently in on the Dulas
Rocks last evening, large quantities of clothing were to be seen
tossed about. Some of it was cast ashore, but a great deal was
carried out to sea again. It has been suggested by some of the
relatives of the drowned passengers and seamen, that if boats were
sent out many more bodies would be recovered. I think this extremely
likely, after what I have witnessed with respect to the action of
the waves on the clothing and spars. The Rev. Mr. Hughes is about to
take the matter in hand. There has been some objection on the part
of the authorities, as they apprehend that thefts might be committed
by some of the persons going out in the boats; but if rumour speaks
truly the watchers themselves require watching. It is unfair to make
charges against men having a responsible duty to perform, but one
of the police inspectors has told me that he himself caught a
coast-guardsman in the act of thieving. _Friends and relatives
complain that there is more anxiety to discover gold than bodies_;
but the fact is no gold has as yet been discovered by the divers.
They recommenced operations at ten o'clock this morning, but have
brought up nothing but copper bars. Fathers, mothers, wives,
children, and other relatives pace the beach from an early hour in
the morning. Yesterday delicate women braved the rain and storm all
day, making their melancholy search. Every now and then I was met by
persons with sorrowful faces, one inquiring, "Have you seen any
trace of my husband? his name was ----;" or "Have you found anything
with the name of ----? she was my child." Indeed, it is a
heartrending thing to go near the beach, and to see these mourners,
and to meet the carts carrying the mangled corpses, or the parish
coffins in which they are to be interred. None of the bodies found
last night have been identified. Forty-five bodies have been
discovered up to this time.'

The tone of one part of that communication leads naturally to the following stinging words from a Liverpool journal:--

'Loud are the complaints here at the manner in which those saved
from the wreck were treated after their arrival here. It is said,
with great indignation, that when Captain Martin (the representative
of Messrs. Gibb and Brights) arrived here, with the rescued
passengers, in the steam-tug which had been despatched to the scene
of the wreck, he left them standing upon the landing-stage; and had
they not been received at the Sailors' Home, they would have had to
wander all night about the streets.'

This, of a verity, is caring more for gold than human bodies. One would have thought the best accommodation the best hotel in Liverpool could afford would have been prepared by the owners of the wrecked vessel in anticipation of the arrival of the poor creatures whose all, save life, had been buried beneath the waves.

In penning my narrative up to this point, it is impossible but that the reader should have felt a large amount of interest in the captain and officers of the vessel. Whatever mistake of those in command may have brought the ship so near the coast, the heart of every one must swell as he reads how heroically the storm was coped with. 'First killed,' or 'last seen on the ship,' are phrases that, like the noblest epitaphs, are associated with the captain and his officers. They succumbed, after glorious battling, to the fate of the sailor; but to show how ill the world could afford to lose such men let me endeavour, in a few concluding lines, to portray them to the reader.

Brave and rugged as a lion was the captain. His defiant front, his curt, honest conversation, his implacable will, which, like a wave, bore down all before it; his natural humour and intense love of jollity; his large solicitude for his passengers and crew; his all but feminine love for his ship, and his fervent belief that no other craft was fit to touch the waters with her,--all these points grow upon me as I write, and cause me to blur the paper as I lash them to the name of Thomas Taylor. I do not believe that man was drunk on the evening of the calamity. This, however, I know, that to those who were not in constant communication with him, Captain Taylor _always_ appeared drunk. He had a ruddy face, a quick, abrupt manner, and a husky utterance which, to the superficial observer, naturally proclaimed him intoxicated. This concludes on that head: _I_ never saw Captain Taylor the worse for liquor during our passage home. On the other hand, I heard him pronounced drunk by second and third class passengers nightly.

Mr. Stevens, the first officer, was a fine young fellow of some thirty summers. He was a most agreeable companion, delighted in song or dance, and if he got a quiet moment with a friend, would talk by the hour of the young wife and little-ones he had left at home. He made every one his friend--was a friend to every one.

Mr. Cowie, the second officer (he was third when I came home) was like a character out of Marryat. He was about three or four and twenty years of age, was as bold and bluff as the captain; and was never so delighted as when he was singing 'Hearts of Oak' in the cock-pit.

Mr. Rogers, the chief engineer, was a man of rough exterior, but of simple, child-like manners. His whole time during _my_ sojourn on the ship was spent in looking after the engines, and entering into amusing discussions with the purser on the right pronunciation of words. Poor fellow!

The purser (Mr. Lewis) was one of the best men that ever walked the earth. He did justice to passengers and owners, and at the time when we ran short of food, I knew him, with all the ship's stores at his command, to abstain from dinner, that the children of the intermediate and steerage passengers might in turn receive his share of the slender stock of dainties left to us on board. He has gone where stewards cease from troubling!

But why continue these memorials of the dead? We call on the names of the good and brave men in vain. Saddest of all sad stories is that which I have attempted to tell. The cheek of the boldest grows pale as he reads it, and my pen falls from my fingers as the old familiar faces rise before me.

THE PRESS ON THE CATASTROPHE.

THE _Times_, after some preliminary observations on the gale of Wednesday, contents itself with a general record of the calamity:--

'The "Royal Charter" was built about four years ago; she was of
2,719 tons register, and 200 horse power. Her owners were Messrs.
Gibb, Brights, and Co., of Liverpool. She was an iron vessel, worked
by a screw. On the 26th of August last she sailed from Melbourne,
having on board 388 passengers, and a crew, including officers, of
112 persons. She accomplished her passage in two months as near as
may be. On Monday morning she passed Queenstown, and thirteen of the
passengers landed in a pilot-boat. The next day the "Royal Charter"
took on board from a steam-tug eleven riggers who had been assisting
in working a ship to Cardiff. Thus, at the time of the calamity
there were on board 498 persons, and of these only 39 were saved.
The ship, as we are informed, had on board but a small cargo, mainly
of wool and skins. A more important item of her freight was gold and
specie, which at the lowest estimate is put at 500,000_l._ On
Tuesday evening there was blowing from the E.N.E. a violent gale,
which fell with full force on the ill-fated ship. She arrived off
Point Lynas at six o'clock in the evening of Tuesday, and for
several hours Captain Taylor continued throwing up signal rockets,
in the hope of attracting the attention of a pilot. None made his
appearance. The gale increased in violence; the ship was making
leeway, and drifting gradually towards the beach. It was pitch dark;
no help was at hand. The captain let go both anchors, but the gale
had now increased to a hurricane, and had lashed the sea up to
madness. The chains parted, and, notwithstanding that the engines
were worked at their full power, the "Royal Charter" continued to
drift towards the shore. At three A.M. she struck the rocks in four
fathoms of water. The passengers till this moment had no idea of the
imminence of their peril. The masts and rigging were cut adrift, but
this gave no relief. The ship continued to grind and dash upon the
rocks. The screw became foul with the drift spars and rigging, and
ceased to act. The consequence was, that the ship was thrown
broadside on to the rocks, and now the terror began. The officers of
the ship either hoped against hope, or endeavoured to alleviate the
agony of the passengers by assuring them there was no immediate
danger. A Portuguese sailor, Joseph Rogers--his name deserves to be
recorded--volunteered to convey a rope on shore through the heavy
surf, and succeeded in his attempt. Had time been given no doubt
every person on board could now have been safely conveyed on shore;
but it was fated that the end should be otherwise. One tremendous
wave came after another, playing with the "Royal Charter" like a
toy, and swinging her about on the rocks. She divided amidships, and
wellnigh all on board were swept into the furious sea. A few minutes
afterwards she also parted at the forehatch, and then there was an
end. Those who were not killed by the sea were killed by the
breaking up of the ship. In the course of a very few moments the
work was done, and four hundred and fifty-nine persons were numbered
among the dead. It was about seven A.M. on Wednesday that she broke
up.

'It is said by those who have visited the scene of the calamity that
never was destruction more complete. The ironwork of the vessel is
in mere shreds; the woodwork is in chips. The coast and the fields
above the cliffs are strewn with fragments of the cargo and of the
bedding and clothing. In the words of one of our reports, "A more
complete annihilation of a noble vessel never occurred on our
coast." Worse still, the rocks are covered with corpses of men and
women frightfully mutilated, and strewn with the sovereigns which
the poor creatures had gone so far to seek, and which were now torn
from them in so pitiful a way. Of course, as is usual in all such
cases, the reasons given for the occurrence of the calamity are
various. In one account we see it attributed to the order given
before midnight to veer out on the starboard cable. This, as it is
said, brought too much strain upon the port cable, which parted, and
then the other parted also, and then the ship drifted ashore. Others
tell us that if the screw had not been fouled by the drift rigging
and spars, the "Royal Charter" might have been saved. These,
however, could have been but secondary and minor causes. The origin
of the calamity seems to have been that in a wild night, with a
gale blowing that soon became a hurricane, the ship was brought up
dangerously near a lee shore. Let it be remembered, however, that
Captain Taylor was the last man seen alive on board.'

The _Morning Herald_, after chronicling the disaster, concludes with this valuable paragraph:--

'This greatest and most terrible of the results of the late
hurricane--for it cannot be otherwise described--will argue strongly
either on behalf of those who demand ports of departure less
channel-bound than Liverpool, or for those who urge the great
necessity for a national system of providing life-boats which shall
give, even in such wild bays as this where the "Royal Charter" went
to pieces, a chance to some of the passengers of ill-fated ships
that may be driven into them in such a storm as that of Tuesday
night or Wednesday morning. Unfortunately the outcry on these
subjects rises only while the mind of the public is resting on such
a disaster as that which has just befallen the "Royal Charter," or
at a time when the whole country is deploring such a series of
wrecks as those which have strewn our coasts within the last three
days. The life-boat question should certainly not be left to private
benevolence, or to the efforts of companies. Governments have gone
too far in their neglect of such subjects or their refusal to
interfere, and we are certain that there is no other mode of using
the public money which would meet with more hearty popular assent
than that which would devote it to the provision of life-boats and
harbours of refuge.'

The colony may study these words with equal advantage to ourselves.

The _Daily News_ is none the less able on the subject, because for once disposed to be smart. Does "Singleton Fontenoy" speak in the following?--

'There is a true savour of sea-salt in the grim irony of that
couplet in one of Dibdin's sea-songs, where Jack is contrasting the
freedom and security of life aboard ship with the continual jeopardy
to which landsmen who walk about streets and dwell in houses are
exposed:--

"While you and I, Bill, on the deck
Are comfortably lying,
My eyes! what tiles and chimbly pots
Around their heads are flying!"

'The recklessness of temperament which sends a lad to sea, and
which, hardened and confirmed by conflict with the elements, laughs
at real danger, and yet is apt to shrink with a sort of dismayed
disgust from the vulgar inconveniences of artificial existence, is
happily and humorously expressed. The dweller in cities, on the
other hand, with all his habitual scepticism and indifference, who
peeps at the moon as at a raree show, and takes a return ticket to
go and gape at an eclipse from some distant hill in the
country--your acute, hard-headed, practical man on Change, in the
Law-court, in the Club, stares and marvels like a mere baby when he
is brought face to face with the terror and mystery of Nature in any
of her sublimer moods. A fashionable public at Brighton running out
to see the effects of a gale of wind upon real "water" is surely as
sorry and ludicrous a combination as the genius of mockery can
devise for the laughter of the stars. Accidents and offences, fires
and murders, burglaries and poisonings, are as dull and stale as
taxation, or as births, deaths, and marriages; they are the "useful
and the beautiful" of well-regulated society; and who but a dry
statistical philanthropist reads the wreck-list, or ponders the
significance of the annual catalogue of casualties among merchantmen
and coasters? It is only when the great meteorological staple of
English conversation derives a certain freshness and novelty from a
sudden attack of winter upon the rear of autumn, or when a hurricane
has torn up a tree in the park and blown an old woman into the river
or a child into the canal, that our inland world begins to feel that
the universe is not absolutely done to order yet.

'Last Tuesday night, when town and country were well abed, and let
us hope not without thankfulness of heart, nor without having taken
thought of "all those who travel by land or sea;"--when even the
rancid haunts of vice in London were emptying, and the homeless were
slinking off to snatch forgetfulness somewhere out of reach of wind
and rain:--in the dead hour of a desolate night, desolate enough
among street lamps flickering in a clammy fog, more desolate still
when a sickly moon peered dimly through a drift of ragged cloud, and
the wind howled and moaned with a roar of rage and anguish--in that
desolate night and that dead hour one of those terrible calamities
which are remembered for centuries was hurrying near five hundred of
our fellow-creatures to sudden death at sea, after a safe and
prosperous voyage of twelve thousand miles, within six hours of
port, and within stonethrow of the long-wished-for land.
Heartrending and disastrous is the shipping intelligence of this
week all round our coasts, but the wreck of the "Royal Charter"
will be a melancholy fireside tale among our children's children.
If, indeed, what is called "progress" be truly defined as an
increasing dominion over time and space, then England, marching at
the van, atones for her pre-eminence by many a hostage. We talk of
bridging seas by the size and speed of our ships, but every now and
then we offer up costly sacrifices to avenge our triumphs, and
correct our pride.

'It would be easy for some glib interpreters of Providence to
pronounce homilies on the fate of a ship laden with the root of all
evil, and of men hasting to be rich; for it is certain that the
"Royal Charter" had at least 500,000_l._ on board, and that many of
her passengers were returning from Australia with fortunes in their
hands. But this catastrophe may point, we think, a safer and more
serviceable moral. To mortal sight human destinies are at best a
chaos, and it is not for mortal wisdom to presume to fabricate out
of inexplicable chances a providential order of its own. Here, for
instance, was a ship touching at Queenstown, and landing thirteen
passengers, one of whom left his wife on board to pursue her voyage
to Liverpool, and, as it turned out, to meet death on the way; here
were ten poor riggers, just returned from working a vessel to
Cardiff, taken on board from a steam-tug in the Channel, and five of
them condemned to perish with a ship that had come all the way from
Australia in safety. Who will presume to judge? "The one was taken
and the other left." Let us be content to moralize more humbly and
humanely on the fate of our fellow-creatures. It were a miserable
task, while the bodies of the poor castaway people are still
awaiting Christian burial, to look about for whom to blame, when all
but a score are beyond the reach of blame or praise. It is easy for
us to wonder and regret that the "Royal Charter" should ever have
passed on from Queenstown and sailed up the Irish Channel without a
pilot in wild and threatening weather--that without a pilot, and
with a northerly gale coming on, she should have passed by Holyhead,
and kept hugging a dead lee shore at night along the most dangerous
line of all our coast. Any one who knows that coast, or who has even
glanced at a chart, cannot fail to be struck with consternation at
the bare thought of such a ship as the "Royal Charter" keeping that
Welsh land close on board in the worst of weather, night coming on,
without a pilot, in the hope of finding one, and for the sake of
saving a few hours at the close of an astonishingly rapid and
successful passage.

'How the "Royal Charter" ever had the right to get into that
atrocious Dulas Bay, where the rocks stick up like jagged teeth, is
a question quite as easy to ask as it is difficult to understand
how the "Royal Charter" should have ventured to pass Holyhead in a
gale without a pilot. From Holyhead to the point where the ship
struck is _all danger_; and though with the wind off the land and a
pilot on board the course for a ship bound to the Mersey may be in
shore, was it the safe course, it may be asked, under opposite
circumstances? Yet it is not to be presumed for a moment that the
common signs of weather, or the rules for approaching land, were
deliberately set at nought, or that the weather-glasses were not
consulted, or that the tidal currents and the notorious indraught on
the Welsh coast were forgotten or neglected by the lamented
commander of the "Royal Charter" and his officers, none of whom,
alas! remain to tell the story. From the moment when it was found
that the ship could not make head against the hurricane and the
indraught, and that it was impossible to make the Mersey, the fate
of the ship needs no explanation. Blue lights and rockets were burnt
for a pilot; but, as no one who knows Welsh pilots will be surprised
to hear, no pilot appeared; and, pilot or no pilot, it was now too
late. The ship was hove to, and drifting helplessly into Dulas Bay.
Here she let go her anchors, "keeping her screw working to ease the
cables." One after the other the cables parted with the strain; at
half-past two she struck, the tide ebbing, and with the flood she
went broadside on to the shelving beach, literally split in two
amidships, and was smashed to pieces on the rocks. We are guilty of
no presumption in drawing one conclusion, and that is, the worse
than uselessness, the absolutely fatal mischief of the so-called
"auxiliary" screw. The "Royal Charter" was, it should be remembered,
an iron ship of 2,749 tons, "originally intended for a sailing
vessel," but transformed into a screw steamer, "with engines of 300
horse power." The value of these screw engines to a ship of this
size and quality seems to us at least problematical; at best it
could only serve her in making way across the "calm belts;" and as a
set off to this exceptional service, there was the dead weight of
the engines and the space they occupied, often to no purpose.
Whatever may have been the use of the auxiliary screw in calms, it
is too certain that in working off a lee shore it was not only not
serviceable, but disastrous; it not only failed to claw the ship
off, but it failed to ease the cables, and when the spars were cut
away, the screw got fouled, and ceased to work. Is it absurd or
unjust to suppose that had there been no auxiliary steam power in
the "Royal Charter" she would never have been permitted to hug a lee
shore at night in search of a pilot, with a hurricane dead on her
weather bow, and strong indraught to the shore? Had she trusted to
her sailing powers only, would she not have consulted her
weather-glasses more anxiously, and kept well out to sea? We do not
attempt to answer these questions, but we ask them deferentially,
sorrowfully, and under a due sense of responsibility.

'The "Royal Charter," like others of her class, was probably built
for speed rather than for strength; and it is no secret that these
Australian clippers are severely strained by "carrying on." It is no
matter of surprise, then, that the ship "split amidships" after she
struck, "letting her engines and passengers through," and afterwards
parted longitudinally "at the forehatch." Even the "Great Eastern"
would have been' [was] 'sorely tried by such a sea on such a shore.
Let us draw a veil of pity over the horrors of that scene. The poet
of "The Shipwreck," with all his imagination, aided by all his terms
of art, has not conceived anything more terrible than the sudden,
complete and indiscriminate destruction of the "Royal Charter" with
her four hundred and seventy souls on board, and her chests of
gold--all going down together in that hungry sea, and torn to pieces
by those cruel rocks. Yet even a calamity like this has its
compensations; for all on board, from Captain Taylor--who by his
stedfast devotedness and unalterable courage preserved discipline to
the last, and died like a British seaman at his post of duty--to the
poor seaman who volunteered to carry through the blinding hurricane
and the foaming surf a hawser to the rocks, and the good clergyman
who calmly said the last prayers for the dying, all met death
unflinchingly, and in their last moments left an example to the few
who survive, and to all who mourn them.'

The above is the most notable article which has appeared on this disaster. It deals with gale, ship, captain, causes, and results. Its penultimate paragraph seems to me to hit the secret of the casualty direct.

The _Morning Chronicle_ is rather didactic than descriptive:--