The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 375, June 13, 1829

The sea was breaking over the needles with frightful violence when we reached Torhead—the spray dashing almost to the summit of the cliffs. We were now almost opposite the vessel, which appeared to be French built; but the increasing darkness prevented our distinguishing her minutely. The, flash of a gun from her side, amidst the deepening gloom, redoubled my interest. A more interesting object than a solitary vessel in danger, I cannot well conceive. I have always looked upon a ship as a living creature—the companion of man—a thing instinct with life, walking the waters—and our feelings are not only excited for the safety of the crew, but for that of the vessel itself, to which we attach a degree of interest as for a friend. A gale was now up; the boat put off to their aid was in danger of being swamped by the surf, and found it impracticable to make way against a violent head-wind and tide united. Nothing short of a miracle could now save the ship; however the wind suddenly shifted a little, and I began to hope that if she was to be wrecked, it might be farther on the shore; as in case of her striking on the Needles, she must almost immediately go to pieces under our eyes, without the most remote chance of the escape of one of the crew. A sheet of light flashed occasionally from her sides, calling for aid out of the power of man to grant. There was a sudden lull in the wind, which sometimes happens in the most violent tempests, though often succeeded by increased fury; and a strong shower of sleet and rain drove most of our followers home. As it had now become quite dark, and it was morally impossible to yield the ship any aid till daylight, I returned to the village with melancholy forebodings, having placed beacons on the heights.

I hastily proceeded again to the shore just before daybreak. The distant moaning of the sea, the harsh screams of the cormorants with the desolate nature of the spot, chilled my spirits. I had passed a sleepless night, and the storm rose again, and raged till near daybreak with increased fury, but the wind was now greatly hushed. The sea, however, showed marks of its violence; the bay was white with foam, and as I proceeded, the tide, which was just beginning to flow, roared loudly, and advanced in short breakers wreathed with spray. The sky also looked dismally, and gave token that the gale had not entirely passed away, though its violence had temporarily abated. I advanced with deep interest by the peaked group of rocks, and passed the wreck of a brig lying high and dry on the sand just before me. The whole of the shore between the Heads, was strewed with her contents. I never witnessed so total a wreck in so short a space of time. The violence of the surf had completely beaten her sides out, leaving stem and stern hanging together as by a thread, while her ribs and broken cordage and sails, completed the picture, had any thing been wanting to perfect it. I could moralize any day on a single bit of plank on a shore—each fragment seems to tell its tale, and awakens a train of thoughts and feelings in the mind; but "grim desolation" was here visibly before me.

Though I was early astir, I found that the prospect of booty had been sufficiently powerful already to draw out not only the inhabitants of Torwich, but great numbers of the neighbouring peasantry. But where was the ship, about whose fate we had been so greatly interested the preceding evening? This was manifestly not her; but I distinctly saw a large, black hull lying under the western cliffs, half a mile distant, towards which the people were rapidly moving. She had come ashore a little after high water, during the night. I picked my way through the wreck strewn around—to a small group of persons standing near me; five of them were strangers, the crew of the brig. I learnt that my surmises were right concerning the ship in the distance, and that the brig which was laden with crockery came ashore about the same period.

I left these poor fellows endeavouring to rescue their little articles of property, and took a route apart from the course of the crowd towards the other ship. I had not gone far, when I almost stumbled over the dead body of a young female, lying with her face uppermost, half buried in the sand—

 
Her very tresses clung
All tangled by the storm.
 

The bodies of a gentleman of foreign aspect, and that of a lad about seventeen, (their hands still firmly clasped together, undivided even in death,) lay close by. It was a melancholy scene. They had evidently been a father and his children. The long boat of the vessel, which had I suppose, taken ground here, being staved and swamped by the surf, was close beyond, near which I observed the bodies of several other men. It was with pain and horror I remarked that some wretches who had been here before me, had partly stripped the bodies of the lady and others in their search after plunder, besides rifling the contents of some cases of valuables, which had been put into the boat. I hastily turned towards the principal scene of disaster, and addressed myself to one of the survivors, whom I found to be the supercargo. The vessel was La Bonne Esperance of Brest, of 550 tons, homeward bound, with a mixed cargo of rum, cotton, and colonial produce, from the West Indies. It appeared that the captain, mate, and passengers had left the ship just as she struck, and taken to the long boat, the fatal result of which has been seen. As I surmised, the bodies I had seen consisted of one family, the only passengers on board, a colonel in the army, with his son and daughter, returning to his country after long service in foreign parts. The supercargo, in the confusion which took place, could not get into the long boat in time, and remained with the rest of the crew on board; several of the seamen were washed off the decks and dashed against the rocks, and my narrator and three others were all that survived "to tell the tale."

The ship's hull lay jammed between two small rocks near the foot of the cliffs; she was still almost outwardly entire, as the tide receded just after she came ashore in the night; but there was a hole knocked in her side from whence a portion of the cargo had been washed out. The two principal masts had gone by the board, but a part of the mizen-mast was still standing; and the rocks were covered, far and near, with tattered portions of her sails and cordage pasted against their sides, disposed by the sea, in a grotesque manner.

As the principal station of the preventive corps was at a considerable distance, some time would elapse before they could lend their aid in the protection of the property; and the mob from the neighbouring country, disappointed at finding little else but broken crockery at the other wreck, seemed disposed to make the most of their time, and were proceeding with all the violence and rapacity of professed wreckers. In spite of the exertions of the officer from Torwich and his assistants, they were mounting the sides, and had spread themselves over the vessel like a pack of hungry wolves on the dead carcass of a horse, when I arrived. A scene of greater confusion and singularity cannot be described.

It was not long before their attention was awakened by the tapping of a cask of rum, which with many more had been washed out of the hold. This beverage presented a powerful attraction; the ship was soon, in some measure, deserted, and the mob concentrated like a swarm of wasps round the casks. All distinctions were now at an end; the better sort of farmer or shopkeeper, scrambled with the pauper for a cup or cap (or shoe) full of the mellow liquid; while the supercargo and his men, aided by myself and a few others, were occupied in hastily putting into some carts the more valuable articles rescued from plunder. As the parties had been immoderate in their potations, so the effects were equally speedy. Women lay on the sand, dead drunk, beside the booty they had collected, while unable to stir, it was snatched from their powerless grasp by others stronger or more sober than themselves. Several pitched battles were also taking place, both amongst boys and men, which generally terminated by each of the combatants falling prostrate martyrs to Bacchus. The infection was universal, and even the three "mounseers," the surviving crew of the Bonne Esperance, could not resist an occasional sly pull at the liquor. These men, though they had only just escaped sudden death, seemed not to be cast down; but with their characteristic agility, one minute assisted to roll the casks into carts, and then ran off perhaps to whisper a compliment to some pretty girl, shrugging up their shoulders at the unceremonious repulse they met with from mademoiselle.

But this scene was not to last long: for the tide had been imperceptibly making way and closing. I had always observed that after coming to a certain place, its velocity was greatly accelerated, and it was with feelings of alarm that I saw the danger which the almost unconscious people incurred. From regard to our own safety we had to retreat rapidly towards the shingles, carrying as many of the helpless as time would admit out of danger, in which we were aided by many of the sailors from Torwich, who had assisted in rescuing a portion of the cargo. The peasantry, at last aware of the hazard they ran, took to their heels also; but from the state they were in, many were forgotten or left behind. The roar of waters came rapidly onward, and amid the foaming eddy created by its advance, the stifled death-cry, mingled with the harsh and piercing shrieks of some of the half drowning victims—one moment awakened to the consciousness of their situation, and the next hurried to eternity—burst on the ear; and such was the advance of the spring-flood, that a few minutes after the rush of people had reached the shingles, the curling breakers rolled the bodies of several of the sufferers almost to their feet. The most lively interest was now excited towards a small rock, which jutted out of the sand a little distance from the wreck. The two poor children of a fisherman's widow in the village, were playing in a cavity of this rock, when the tide surrounded them. Their voices were drowned by the roaring of the waters, and their fate would have been unknown, had not the wild appearance and frantic screams of the mother—come in search of her children—attracted notice. When they were discovered, only a ledge of the rock was discernible; and the little sufferers were seen imploring for help amidst the spray with which the waves, fanned by a stiff breeze from windward, covered them. Several brave fellows swam off towards the rock, but before they could reach it, a sudden rush of tide swept over, and engulfed the children amidst the fragments of wreck hurled forward in its advance. One of the sailors seized the youngest of the children and bore him safely to shore. The body of the other was found when the tide ebbed, under a ledge of rocks on the eastern side. Upwards of fifteen persons were amongst the missing. It was an impressive scene, and read a powerful lesson to all.

"Wrecking" has long been deservedly a national reproach. It is, however, rarely accompanied with the cruelty and violence by which it was formerly characterized; and such aggravated scenes now seldom occur. The people of our coasts have become, generally, much more civilized, and probably the "march of improvement" will ultimately eradicate so inhuman a custom. In Cornwall it was carried to such an excess that the example was even given from the pulpit; and there is a story related of a Cornish parson, who upon information being brought to his congregation of a wreck whilst they were at church, exhorted them to pause as they were rushing out en masse in the midst of the service; and having gained the door, took to his heels saying, "Now, my lads, it is but fair we should all start alike!" and reached the wreck first. The people view the plunder of a wreck as a right, and it is in vain to attempt to persuade them otherwise. However it is but justice to say that they have frequently risked, and even sacrificed, their own lives in endeavouring to preserve those of others; though some recent instances, especially in Wales, prove that the old disposition still lurks amongst the people, and sometimes breaks out with unabated violence.

The arrival of a party of the Preventive Service that evening, in some measure proved a check to the plunder of the peasantry; but the guards themselves were not proof against the prevailing infection, and similar scenes to that related, prevailed as long as there was any thing left to drink or pick up; however, a considerable part of the cargo was safely stowed, though there were few of the rum casks that did not afterwards turn out impregnated with bilge water.