Chapter III: Part 3

'The loss of the "Royal Charter" is an awful illustration of that
solemn text, the vanity of all human expectations. It preaches the
humiliating lesson which divines and moralists are ever urging with
an impressiveness which must make its way to the dullest and most
callous mind. When the poet or preacher of old drew his
illustration of mundane instability from the perils of the sea, and
bade men look how "a dark night and an ill guide, a boisterous sea,
and a broken cable, a hard rock and a rough wind, dashed in pieces
the fortune of a whole family," his imagination fell far short of
the fearful fact we now deplore. A noble vessel, which had sailed
round the world in safety, has been totally destroyed within a few
miles of its port; and nearly four hundred human beings, whose eyes
had already been gladdened by a glimpse of their native land, have
found a fearful death on the morning of that day whose evening
should have made that land again their home....

'We hardly know whether to note with satisfaction or sorrow that, so
far as can be gathered at present, this melancholy catastrophe was
not the result of negligence and overconfidence on the part of any
one. Whilst it is most gratifying to think that no prudence could
have averted the disaster, and that no blame attaches to the memory
of a man who perished as Captain Taylor did, at his post, it is
lamentable to reflect that no application of human ingenuity is able
to withstand the elemental rage. Here was a large stout ship, one of
the kind and size which assumed to enjoy an immunity from the power
of the tempest--left to work its will on small craft and old crazy
tubs--well manned, well commanded, nothing neglected that art or
experience could suggest, offering as useless a resistance to the
storm as the worn-out hulls in which greedy owners were wont to
convey poor Irish emigrants. A blunder on the part of some one would
have allowed us to cherish the idea that security is possible, and
may be guaranteed, to stout material and good seamanship; but the
new ship, the "Royal Charter," completely destroyed within sight of
port, with the loss of 400 lives, although it may read a useful
lesson of humility, and warn men against too great an assumption of
victory over natural forces, is a terrible blow to that confidence
which the past immunity of ocean steam navigation had fostered.'

Thus--judicially--the _Morning Post_:--

'Out at sea such a vessel as the "Royal Charter," if well commanded,
ought to be proof against any gale of wind; and in point of fact
hardly any ship can pass from Australia to these shores without
encountering as heavy seas in mid ocean as that which raged a few
days ago so fearfully in the Irish Sea. It is only when such a ship
accidentally fouls land that much danger is to be apprehended.
Captain Taylor has shared the fate of his crew and passengers; and
one may hesitate to criticise one who is not here to answer for his
seamanship. But it seems clear that Captain Taylor knew perfectly
well where he was, and that, instead of putting out to sea, there to
ride out the gale of Tuesday night, he stood in for the Welsh coast,
burning lights for a pilot in a sea in which no pilot, it may be
assumed, could have joined him, with the whole force and scope of
the Irish Sea to windward and an iron-bound coast to leeward. The
result was, as a mere instinct in dynamics would suggest, that the
force of wave, wind, and current was greater them the steam power of
the "Royal Charter." Captain Taylor soon found that his anxiety to
keep in the most direct track to Liverpool was fraught with fatal
results. The ship gradually made leeway; and when he attempted at
length to put out to sea he could not. At last he threw out two
anchors; but the chains of one of them broke. The ship, steaming
away from the rocks, gradually neared the rocks; and at length came
the first fatal crash. Then the masts and rigging were instantly cut
away in a forlorn attempt to save her; but it appears that the
falling rigging fouled the screw, and from that moment it ceased
working. From that moment, probably, in spite of desperate exertions
and words of encouragement, all hope was really abandoned. After the
first thump against the rocks, the ship rebounded, only to thump
again with fearful force in a few moments by the stern; for it was
in the attempt to steam away from the coast, nearly head to wind,
that the first crash took place. Then she was completely at the
mercy of wind and wave; and as soon as the screw ceased working her
position changed, and she went broadside against the rocks. Still
she did not lurch. At this juncture a negro sailor volunteers to
swim through the surf with a hawser, and thus to gain a
communication with the shore. Lucky fellow! he was well rewarded for
his heroism. He escaped the wreck first, and two others, according
to the most reliable accounts, got to shore by the rope thus thrown
out.

'Then followed the last scene with appalling and unexpected
rapidity. Time after time the "Royal Charter" was driven with the
same heavy thump against the rocky shore; the darkness and the
tempest mingled together in increasing confusion and relaxing
discipline. Everything was felt and nothing was seen. The waves
dashed with overwhelming force upon the ship, and the wind drowned
every voice; for when the "Royal Charter" struck it was but two
hours past midnight and by seven in the morning, when the sun rose,
she had entirely broken up. The passengers during these successive
collisions with the rocks, had huddled together in the saloon,
where the chaplain was offering up a prayer. In the midst of this
Captain Taylor came down to offer a few words of hope, couched in
that ominous assurance that "there was no immediate danger." But he
had hardly spoken when the waves burst upon the ship with new force,
and after being thus struck several times, she suddenly parted
amidships, the machinery falling through, and the waves sweeping out
the crew. Nearly at the same moment the fore part of the ship thus
dissevered from the rest, is reported to have split longitudinally
also. Then of course all perished but those few who, in a manner
which most of them themselves cannot explain, found themselves on
the beach. The force of the waves seems to have dashed some on shore
before they knew what had happened, and before life had become
extinct; while later in the morning the sea began to give up also
its dead who had been tossed upon the ebb and flow. One child was
thrown on the shore yet breathing, but it expired shortly
afterwards. Most of the bodies washed ashore were found with sums of
gold upon them, and all were placed in a field adjoining the
churchyard of Moelfre for identification.

'Such is the sad story of the loss of at least four hundred and
sixty lives, of a fine ship, and of gold variously estimated between
300,000_l._ and 500,000_l._ The gold lost is again computed at
seventy-nine thousand ounces; but it is hoped that the iron case
which contained the treasure may yet be recovered. The ship had had
a favourable and remarkably fast passage. It was supposed to be
eleven days in advance of every other in its letters and
information, and to anticipate the next overland mail from
Australia. Probably the pride of all this contributed to the
catastrophe; and the captain appears to have been resolved to make
Liverpool as soon as possible after his successful passage. The
scene of the wreck is in itself an ill-fated one. At Moelfre, some
ten miles from Beaumaris, the wreck happened, and close to that spot
the "Rothsay Castle" was also wrecked some years ago. Only one
danger appears to have been experienced by the "Royal Charter"
during her whole voyage from Australia to Queenstown, and that arose
from proximity to an iceberg. All this seems a cruel result of so
much hope, and so much apparent prosperity. All the care and
watchfulness devoted to a voyage from the antipodes--all the
prospects of return after long expatriation to one's native
country--all the sums hoarded through years of industry in the gold
fields or in Australian farming--all the self-felicitations for a
voyage thus far so favourably encountered--thus vain, thus useless,
thus belied.

'Viewing the shipwreck simply in its bearing on nautical
management, we can hardly doubt that it might have been prevented;
but the only utility of that reflection is now to warn other
captains from hugging a Welsh shore in a gale from the North.'

The _Morning Advertiser_:--

'One of those awful calamities which carry mourning and desolation
to hundreds of hearths, hearts, and homes--which send a pang not
only through the bosoms of bereaved relatives, but cast a gloom over
every thoughtful and feeling mind, has just visited us in the wreck
and total loss of a noble steamer, the "Royal Charter," which
perished with more than 400 souls, on the Welsh coast, on the night
of Tuesday last. There are circumstances which add largely to the
melancholy facts, so far as they are yet known of this dreadful
disaster. The stately steam-ship, with her rich freight and her
numerous passengers, had gallantly ploughed the waters of the broad
Pacific and breasted the waves of the rude Atlantic; she had sighted
the noble haven of Queenstown; and there, fondly dreaming the perils
of the deep were past, her joyful passengers had voted a testimonial
of gratitude to the commander of the gallant ship, who had so far
safely brought them from their far port of homeward departure at the
antipodes. Among these 450 passengers and crew, how many anxious
hearts already in anticipation embraced expectant kindred and
friends!--how many--the "battle of life" fought out successfully,
and competency gained--looked for that native shore, which they were
only to see with despairing eyes in their death-struggle, as the
haven of a peaceful life, to be closed by a calm death among those
they loved best, in the land of their birth! We can well imagine the
buoyant spirits of the young, and the calmer joy of the old, at the
near prospect of the happy close of their long sojourn on the wide
waters. But He, in whose hands are the issues of life and death,
willed otherwise. The ship left the shores of Ireland on Monday
last, all well; on Tuesday a gale arose, which towards night became
a tempest of surpassing violence. The doomed vessel was driven
towards the Welsh coast, and there her fate was sealed. There is at
present no reason to suppose that in this sad disaster any want of
precaution; any undue effort to effect a speedy passage by running a
dangerous course; any miscalculation of rate of sailing, deviation
of compass, or other neglect or accident, contributed to the
lamentable catastrophe. It seems to have been one of those
calamities beyond human foresight or wisdom to avert, to which we
must bow the head in silent resignation, not, however, without
thoughtful consideration as to whether human means might not have
mitigated the sufferings of the wrecked, or diminished the loss of
life. We are as yet without sufficient data to know whether a more
efficient life-boat service at this part of the coast, a supply of
life-lines, coast-mortars, &c., at the principal places near
Moelfra, at Beaumaris, Penmanmawr, might not have enabled us to add
to the scant list of the rescued sufferers. We repeat, we are as yet
without details, and write merely in presence of an overwhelming
calamity, hopeful that so solemn a warning to be prepared may have
its effect, while yet the grief is new, of producing an increased
energy in doing all that may be done by liberality and skill to save
the lives of our brave seamen, and of those who "go down into the
great waters." The steamship "Royal Charter," the loss of which has
given occasion for these remarks, was a nearly new and splendid
screw steamer. She had on freight 79,000 ounces of gold, valued at
316,000_l._, besides a large amount of gold and valuables belonging
to her 450 passengers and crew. She sailed from Melbourne on the
26th of August, with 60 cabin passengers, ten of whom are saved, and
ten others, we are happy to say, are reported as having been landed
at Queenstown. Of the seamen 25 survive, thus leaving nearly 400
souls, including Captain Taylor and all the officers of the
ill-fated ship, sharers in her sad fate.'

The _Standard_ touches on the event with its usual calmness of utterance:--

'But as the approach to Liverpool was more alive with shipping, of
course the most terrible of the disasters were to be expected off
the coast of Wales; and there has seldom been recorded a more awful
wreck than that of the "Royal Charter" in Red Wharf Bay, near
Bangor. The "Royal Charter," a very splendid vessel, left Melbourne
on the 26th of August, having on board about five hundred souls, and
carrying seventy-five thousand ounces of gold. The power of the
vessel may be concluded from the fact that she made Cork Harbour in
less than two months. At this port some ten or a dozen of the
passengers had the fortune to quit her, and she proceeded on her way
to Liverpool as far as the Welsh coast, where she was overtaken by
the terrible storm of Wednesday morning, and utterly lost in a wild
bay some seven miles to the north-west of Beaumaris, and about three
miles west of Puffin Island, in Anglesea. The circumstances are
surrounded with unusual suspense and terror, for the railway has
been at several points washed away, the embankment thrown down, and
the action of the telegraph stopped. We are, in fact, acquainted
with only the details of the distressing disaster which we have
presented yesterday, and present elsewhere to-day. The rapidity of
the voyage had led the passengers to offer to unfortunate Captain
Taylor a testimonial, and everything in the shape of danger was
taken naturally to be at an end when the unfortunate ship went down
in sight of her port.'

The _Telegraph_ proposes the speedy exaltation of the sailor who swam ashore with the rope:--

'The passengers were crowded in the saloon, where the scene was of
the most heartrending description. Children and parents, husbands
and wives, were clinging to each other in despairing embraces. The
captain endeavoured, hoping against hope, to reassure those under
his charge. Mr. Hodge, a missionary from New Zealand, did his best
to administer religious consolation, but the victory was on that
black Wednesday morning with the demon of the storm. A succession of
tremendous waves swung the "Royal Charter" from the rocks, and she
parted, first amidships and then longitudinally, and was soon but a
mass of shapeless spars, eddying about in a briny maelstrom. All the
officers, save, as we mentioned yesterday, the carpenter and a
boatswain's mate, perished. Captain Taylor was the last man seen
alive on board. A few of the crew saved themselves; the remainder
were hurled upon the rocks, and suffered a speedy but agonizing
death. It is some miserable consolation, however, to record that
between thirty and forty of the passengers and seamen were enabled
to save their lives by means of the hawser, rigged at the peril of
his life by the man described as a Negro. If this hero, foreigner
and civilian as he may be, does not deserve the Order of Valour,
Horatio Nelson was a coward, and Bayard was false and craven.'

The _Observer_ has a leader which, dealing with what may be termed the technics of the matter, stands out from the mass of articles which have appeared in the weekly papers:--

'The disastrous wreck of the "Royal Charter" is one of those
calamities that come upon us now and then, at intervals, to remind
us of the insignificance of man and his grandest works, when opposed
to the mighty forces of Nature. There has seldom happened such an
amount of destruction in one single storm of short duration as was
effected amongst the shipping upon the coasts of this island on
Tuesday night; but the list of mortality in that terrible conflict
with the elements is swollen to a lamentable extent by the four
hundred and sixty souls who perished at that one fell swoop. This
wreck is another illustration of the well-marked fact that all the
perils of long voyages across the broad ocean are little in
comparison with those that beset the mariner in leaving or
approaching these shores. The "Royal Charter" was a noble specimen
of the clippers employed in our great Australian trade, and had made
several prosperous voyages, of which the last, if it had ended
happily, would have been the most remarkable for rapidity. Iron
built, supplied with all the improvements of modern shipbuilding,
aided with the auxiliary power of steam, and manned with a
sufficient crew, well officered and commanded, it would have seemed
almost out of the range of probability that such a ship should have
been drifted upon a lee shore in a familiar locality by a gradually
increasing storm, and there shattered to fragments, and engulfed,
with well nigh all her human freight, within a few hours' sail of
her own port. In reading the account of this wreck we cannot escape
the conviction that the possession of auxiliary steam power, which
should have been her safety, was really the cause of the "Royal
Charter's" loss. This vessel was of nearly 3,000 tons burden. The
engines by which her screw propeller was worked were only of 300'
[only of 200] 'horse power. Such a power was enough for working a
vessel over the tropical calms, or aiding her progress now and then
in light winds, but it was a treacherous reliance in such a position
as she was allowed to get into on Tuesday evening. It was useless
for contending against the furious pressure of the hurricane that
was surely driving her upon the jagged rocks of Dulas Bay, whilst
the structure of the ship was greatly weakened by the dead weight of
the engines and the open spaces necessary to contain them.

'Captain Taylor was evidently an able and courageous seaman. He
animated all his officers and crew to maintain discipline and
continue their exertions to the latest moment, and it is with no
desire to suggest blame that we express the belief that but for
relying on the power of his screw to keep the vessel off, he would
never have been in the position he was on that fatal Tuesday
evening, when on a rugged lee shore he was losing precious hours
endeavouring to procure a pilot. Either a safe port or the open sea
were the only situations that could give security in a hurricane
like that of Tuesday. There seemed to be a fatality attending the
last voyage of the ill-fated ship that was to pursue her crew and
passengers to the extremity of destruction, for the rapidity of her
passage brought her upon the most perilous part of our coast that
she had to near, just at the outbreak of the most violent storm we
have experienced for very many years, and after striking upon the
shore, her hull succumbed to the fury of the waves, and became rent
and shattered almost in a moment, just as a communication had been
established, by means of the hawser passed to the shore, that
promised the fairest chance of saving the lives of all on board. The
gallant action of the seaman who performed this feat, all but too
late as it proved to be, was the means of saving many of the
thirty-nine, who were all that escaped out of near five hundred.

'The records of shipwrecks upon the coast of Great Britain have been
carefully compiled for some years past, and the annual number of
vessels totally lost is known to range from 1000 to 1200. Of these,
however, a very large proportion are small craft, coasting traders,
and colliers, whose short voyages generally keep them in dangerous
proximity to the shore, and whose crews are often insufficient for
working them successfully out of a sudden emergency. This year,
there will be a terrible excess over the average losses. The
destruction of vessels in the night between Tuesday and Wednesday
amounts, according to what is already known, to hundreds; whilst the
loss of life by the "Royal Charter," which, though the greatest, is
only one amongst a numerous list of such losses, will vastly
increase the average mortality. The sacrifices even of human life,
demanded and paid in the pursuit of our peaceful commerce, are not
less appalling sometimes than those which render war terrible. This
storm gives us a longer list of lives lost in a few hours on the
English coast than has been the result of many a mighty battle.'

Many other articles have appeared in the English journals; but those here given will speak for the scope and tone of them all. British sympathy was never perhaps more intensely quickened than it has been by this unparalleled marine disaster. It is the topic of every tongue. From almost every pulpit the subject was dwelt upon last Sunday. Mr. Binney, who narrowly escaped coming home in the ship, preached with pathetic power on the melancholy event of the week. Prayer was put up for his miraculous preservation. Many good men have gone, but the blow to Both Worlds--the Old and the New--would have been severe indeed if the 'old man eloquent' had perished.

ADDENDA.

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:--

[D] 'Journal of a Voyage to Australia and Round the World, for
Magnetical Research.'

'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:--

[E] 'Dottings of a Lounger.' By Frank Fowler.

'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.