SOME FAMOUS SHIPWRECKS.

NZ Truth, Issue 91, 16 March 1907, Page 7

SOME FAMOUS SHIPWRECKS.

CAPSIZING OF THE FRANCIS SPAIGHT.

Murder of Young O'Brien and Tw# Others.

By Civilised Cannibals.

Wifiter m the North Atlantic.

Signalliog with the Limbs ci a Cerpse.

The warlike of the isles ! The men of field and wave ; Are net the rocks, their funeral piles, The seaa and shores their graves ? Felicia Hemans. On November 21, 1835, what was at that time a fine vessel of 350 tons burden sailed from St. John's, the capital of Newfoundland. She was the Francis Spaight, of Limerick, and laden with timber. Her captain, mate, and crew numbered 16 all told. Some of the seamen were but indifferent hands, having only been trained as boatmen on the Shannon, and had not be-en long ens-ugh at sea to be capable of performing efficiently the oi'dinarv duties of men before the mast. From that cause much of the suffering and misery which marked her voyage on this, occasion arose. The incidents here described were related by ' ONE OF' THE SAILORS, and present altogether a melancholy picture of the results of incapacity and want of discipline on the part | . of a master mariner and crew :— Nothing could be finer than the weather for the first eight or ten days of the voyage, "but it afterwards came on to blow so hard that we were obliged to drive before the wind under a • mizzen topsail. At 3 o'clock m the morning of December 3, a cry was raised on deck, speedily followed by alarm and confusion. Through the carelessness of the helmsman, who had perhaps been steering wildly or it may be from the bad trim of tine ship, she su'd- \ denly broached to, and lay like a log 'm the trough of the Atlantic. The <day. had not dawned ; it was still v^ery dark, and the waves broke so .^rightfully over her, that neither the

captain nor mate could get some of the »«:■» to obey their orders. Even when the hull 'was filling rapidly with water, the majority of the crew refused, to work the pumps, on being directed to do so by the master himself. In less than an hour the Francis Spaight lay on her beam ends, the greater part of the men endeavorin?: to save themselves by climbing up her side and clinging to the rigging. By this disaster the mate and two of the sailors lost their lives— the former being drowned m the after cabin, into which he had gone only a few minutes previous to the capsizing of the vessel ; the latter perishing from the same cause m the forecastle. The captain and a. nian named Melville' now got to the fore and main mayts, and cut these away ; the mizzen topmast also w,ent over the side, and the ship almost immediately righted. The mainmast unfortunately was net perfectly free, but clung by the mainstay, and as there was ; A HEAVY SEA ROLLING, the waves continued beating against the side of the vessel while the gale lasted, so that it was thought sometimes she would fiave gone to pieoes. As soon as she had righted, being already filled with water, she settled down m the sea, and there was scarcely any portion of her to be seen except the poop and bulwarks. No situation could now be more helpless or miserable tl\an that of the unfortunate crew, standing as we 'did,' ankle deep on the' wreck, m the depth of a winter's night, and clinging m the darkness to whatever object was nearest, as sea after sea rolled successively over us ;. but we knew not 1 the full horror of our condition un-

til the dawn of luo morning, for ■which all on board were now lookiing eastward with intense anxiety. Wo discovered that our provisions had been washed overboard, and as the holds were filled by the sea, we had no means of coming at any fresh water. The sale continued unabated through the morning, and the dreadful swell every now and then swept over tlie decks, so that for safety, as well as for shelter, we gathered into the cabin under the poop. Even here the hull lay so deep with water that a dry plank could not he found on which we might lie ; our only rest was by staading close together, huddled up, and leaning against one another. "We were, however, often driven frem this wretched lodging by the seas breaking m over the ship's stern, and obliging us to (rush out on the quarter keck. ; AS THE STORM showed no diminution with the advance ef the day, and the vessel lay j like a log on the water, hundreds of miles from land, no one entertained even the remotest 'expectation of ever seeing home again, when an incident occurred which raised our hopes for a few moments, but only to leave us more forlorn and miserable than before. At about 10 o'clock m the forenoon a vessel was suddenly descried to the westward, and for some time it was thought possible her course might be near us, but she stood far away beyond the reach of signal, and was soon out of sight. That clay and the next passed away without the slightest change m the weather. On the third it began to moderate, during the whole of which period we remained standing m the cabin, leaning against one another, or against the ship's sides, unable to take rest or sleep. We could hardly have believed beforehand that.it was possible, for men to hold out for so many days and nights without lying down, wholly without food, and almost without drink, yet we did not feel much exhausted, or altogether incapable of exertion. Our greatest suffering was from i hunger, or rather a sinking at the stomachy and from thirst, neither of which had we any conceivable means of allaying. There were 13 hands alive, and of these not one had tasted a morsel of food since the wreck. For drink we had only three bottles of wine, which were found m the cabin ; this was served out m wine glasses at long intervals. There was some occasional rain, which we were not prepared at first for saving, as we could get but a scanty supply by holding the cover of a tureen under the saddle of the mizzen-mast. On the fourth 'or fifth day after the wreck we removed a' cistern from the quarter galley, and got it under the mizzen-mast, where it was filled m two days. The periods m which little or no rain fell were, however, often long, so that we stinted ourselves to the smallest possible allowance, even where there was a sufficient supply. Some of the men when it rained held out their handkerchiefs and, when these were thoroughly | soaked, . SQUEEZED THE. WATER into their mouths, or sometimes into their shoes, from which they greedily drank ; others mopped the decks, or whatever places, the rain chanced to lodge m free from the brine. In seven days after the appearance of the first vessel, another was seen on thei weather quarter, outward bound, and only four miles north. Our hopes were again revived, and for, a short time the anxiety on board was intense. An ensign was hoisted on our mizzen-mast, and alse part of a sail ; the day was very clear, and those on the passing ship could not but see our signals— at least we thought so— but she bore away like the former one, and was soon lost to our view. Despair was now m every countenance. How we lived through the succeeding five days it would be hard to tell, but no one tasted food ; some j few endeavored to eat the horn buttons of their jackets, the only substitute lor nutriment that occurred to them. There were no means of catching fish, and although birds were sometimes seen flying past, we had no means of bringing them down. Horrible as this situation >?as, it was made yet worse by the condufct of some of the crew towards one another. As their sufferings increased they lost all Command c-f their temper, and became .cross and selfish m the extreme— such as were strong securing ' a place on the cabin floor for lying down, and pushing aside those who were weak to shift i for themselves as best they could m the cold and wet. There was a boy named O'Brien especially, who seemed even before the wreck to have no friend on board, and he now endured every sort of cruelty and abuse. Most of the men now had sore legs from standing continually m the salt water, and were peevish and apprehensive of being hurt, but whatever they might have borne from others, as soon as O'Brien chanced to come near them, m search of a dry berth to lie m, he WAS KICKED OR CUFFED unmercifully away for which treatment he retaliated m curses.. He had a miserable time of it— partly, perhaps, that being friendless, and the only person from Limerick on board, they could indulge their illhumor on him with more impunity. He was the son of a poor widow at , Thomondgate, Limerick, and before he joined the Francis Spaight, used to earn a living at the quays by rafting the timber discharged from the vessels arriving from Quebec On December 19, the sixteenth day after the wreck, and since we had tasted food, many of the men gathered together m groups, and some thing seemed to be then m cogitation. The mystery was cleared up m the course of the day. When all happened to be collected together m the cabin, the captain came oft deck, and addressed us about our desperate condition. He said we had been now such a length of time without sustenance that it was beyond human nature to endure any longer ; that we were already on the verge of the grave, n/nd that the only question for us to decide was whether one o r all should die ; that at present it seemed certain that all must die unless food could be procured, but that, if one died, the rest might- live until some ship came m sight. His opinion was that one should suffer for the rest, and that lots should be drawn, to fix upon the person who was- to give up his life for the sake of his shipmates. The lots, lie said, ought to be drawn between the four hoys, as Ihey had no families, and couls! not be considered so fireat a loss to

their friends' as those who had wives and children , depending on them. This address was received by most of the men with a cry of approbai tion— at least several voices were 1 heard to exclaim, " 'TIS RIGHT," "Very right," "Very fit it should be done," and none appeared to object except the boys, who all cried out against the injustice of such a proceeding. O'Brien, m particular, protested against it, asserting that their lives were as dear to them as if they were men or married, and that unless the lot were drawn fairly all round they would not submit. The clamor for and against the limitation of the lot continued for a. short time, the second mate and a seaman principally insisting on it, and O'Brien offering the most determined opposition, when some mutterings were heard amongst the men that led O'Brien to apprehend they might proceed m a more summary way, and at once fix upon himself. It was said,, "It would be a very good deed tv, put him out of ■ the way, that he deserved it, and it would oe the right way to serve him." Friendless and forlorn as he was, expressions like these were well calculated to terrify the boy m acquiescence, and seeing no alternative he at length submitted. One of the men now prepared some sticks of different lengths for the lots, and while the dreadful preparations were going forward, the poor boys were preparing their minds for the result. One of them assured us afterwards that he was almost indifferent about the whole proceeding, when he saw the chances of escape were so few. He did not even watch i the drawing of the lot with the in-tense-anxiety one might suppose he (would feel when life or death hung thereon, and lie awaited the decision only that if it fell upon him he misrhti on the moment jump overboard. ■ 'A bandage was now tied on O'Brien's eyes, and HE KNELT DOWN, i resting his face on the knees of a sailor. The latter had the sticks m his hand, and was to hold them up one by one, demanding whose lot it was. The first stick was held up. The answer was, "For little Johnny Sheehan," and the lot was laid aside without announcing whether it was the fatal one or not. The next stick was held up and . the demand was repeated, "On whom is this lot to fall?" O'Brien's .reply was, "On myself," upon which the man who held the sticks' laid, these down, and said that was the death lot— that O'Brien had called it for himself. None of the other boys could tell whether it was the. right lot or not, but the men said ■it fell upon O'Brien, and some were heard to say 1 that it was a good job. | The poor, little fellow heard the anj nouncement without uttering a word. He got up, took off the bandage from his eyes, and. looked quietly around. His face was very pale, but not a feature of it was changed. The men now told him he must prepare for death, and the captain said it was better it should be done by bleeding him m the arm, to which O'Brien made no objection. The captain then directed the cook, John Gorman, to do it, telling him it was his duty. But Gormari; strenuously refused.' He was, however, threatened with death himself by the men if he continued obstinate, and he at last consented. O'Brien then took off his jacket, without waiting to" be desired,, and lifter telling;' the . crew, it any of them ever reached home, to tell his poor mother what had happened to him, bared Ms 1 fight arm. The cook twice "cut the veins with a small knife, but could bring no flow of felpod, upon which there seemed so be' some hesitation among the men as to what should be done. They were, however, relieved by the boy himself, who immediately desired the cook to give him the knife, as he j could not be looking* at him putting him to pain. j When O'Brien got the knife and was about to cut the vein, the captain recommended him to try # the left arm, which he accordingly' did. He attempted TO OPEN THE VEIN at the bend of the, elbow with the point of the knife, as a surgeon would, but, like the cook, he failed m bringing blood. A dead consternation now fell upon all, but m a minute or two the captain said, "This is all of no use,, 'tis better to put him out of pain hy at once bleeding him m the throat," and some of them said it was good advice. At this O'Brien, for the first time, looked terrified, and begged hard, that they would not do so, but give him a little time. He said he was cold and weak, but if they would let him lie down and sleep for a little, he would get warm and then he would bleed freely, upon which someone complained that it was of no use waiting, as it was impossible the . boy could sleep. The lad protested anxiously that he could, however, and told that when he was sick one night m Limerick, a doctor attempted to bleed him m the arm and failed, but after he had slept a few hours, and got warm m bed, the blood came freely. If they would now, he continued, only let him lie down on the boards for a 'few hours, he was sure the blood would flow. To this wish there were expressions of dissent from the men, and the captain almost immediately said to them that it was useless leaving the boy this way m pain'; it. were best at once to lav hold of him, and let the cook cut his throat. O'Brien, now roused, and driven to desperation, seemed working himself up for resistance, and declared he would not let them. The first man, he said, x who laid hands on him would suffer ; he. would appear to him at another time ; he would HAUNT HIM AFTER DEATH. He was threatening them, m short, with everything he thought at the moment might terrify, and whether influenced by the menaces, or con-science-stricken at the horrid crime they were committing, the c. was a general pause or hesitation amongst the crew. A man named Mahony was even heard to say he would have nothing to do Vith it, when suddenly a fellow started forward and seized the boy, exclaiming that if the lot had fallen upon himself, he would allow his head to be cut off at ence. | The die was now cast— they all i rushed m upon him. O'Brien screamed and striiffffletl violcn.lv, still ibrestpii'B 0 ' them, find addressi 110 : himself m particular to Sullivnn, a Tarkert Man. The peer youth was,

( however, among so many, soon sot I flown,- and the cook was at once ! called upon to put him to death. j The man now refused more strenuI ously than before, and another altercation arose'; but weak, irresolute, and seeing that his own life, if he persisted, would absolutely be taken instead of O'Brien's, he at length yielded to their menaces. Some one at this time brought down a large eafle knife that had been on the poop, with which, pale and trembling the man stood over O'Brien, who was still endeavoring to free himself from those who held him. To save the blood, one of them placed under the boy's neck the cover of the tureen, which they had before used to collect the rain, while seve- j ral cried out to the cook to do his duty. The horror-stricken man, over and. over again, endeavored to summon up hardihood for the deed, bujt when he caught the boy's eye his heart always failed him. and he then LOOKED SUPPLICATINGLY at the men again. But their cries and threats were loud for death ; he made a desperate effort—there was a short struggle, and O'Brien was no more. As soon as his horrid act was perpetrated, the blood was served to the men, but a few of them, among whom was Mahony, refused to pairtake of it. They afterwards laid open the body, and separated the limbs ; the latter were hung out over the stern, while a portion of the former was allotted for imme- j diate use. Shocked as many were at the scene they had just witnessed, a gnawing hunger came upon all, when they \s-aw even this disgusting meal laid out for them, and almost every, one, even the unwilling boys, partook more or less thereof. This was the evening of the sixteenth day. They ate again late at nirrht, and some greedily ; but the thirst, which was before at least endurable, now became craving, and as there was no more blood, they slaked it with salt water. All then lay down to rest, but several were raving and talking wildly through the night, and m the morning the cook was observed td be insane. His eyes inflamed and glaring, his speech rambling and incoherent, he threw his, clothes about restlessly, and was often violent. When first the man lost his reason, one of the boys examined his clothes and found four sovereigns and five shillings m his belt, which the lad gave to the captain. It was singular that, amidst all his madness, the cook missed the money m the course of the day, and went round searching the men for it. HIS RAVING CONTINUED during the succeeding night, and m the morning, as his end seemed to be approaching, the veins of his neck were cut, and the blood drawn from him. This was the second murder. , On the night of that terrible day, Michael Behanc went mad, and the boy George Burns on the following morning. They - became so violent that they were obliged to be tied by the crew, and the latter was likewise bled to death, by cutting his throat. Michael Behane died' unexpectedly, otherwise he would m all probability have suffered the same fate. Next mprning the captain came off deck, and feeling too weak and exhausted to keep a lookout any longer, desired someone to take his place. Harrington and Mahony went up very soon after ; the latter' thought he. could distinguish a sail, and raised a shout of joy,„.. .-.hearing.., which those below immediately came up. A ship was clearly discernible, and apparently bearing her course towards us. Signals were hoisted with as much alacrity as our weakness would allow, and when she approach-" ed, and was almost within hail, our apprehension of her passing by, like the former vessels, was so great that we held up the hands and feet of O'Brien to excite commiseration. The vessel proved to be the Agenora, an American. Without hesitation, she PUT OFF A BOAT to our assistance, although the weather was very rough at the time, and there seemed to b-e a great apprehension of its swamping. The caunt and famished survivors of the water-logged Francis Spaight were at length safely got on board the Agjenora, where we were treated with the utmost kindness.