3723-W-Two statements by survivors

TWO STATEMENTS BY SURVIVORS

STATEMENT OF CAPTAIN WILLIAM BARTLETT

Captain William Bartlett’s statement of the loss of the American barque Charles Bartlett, by being run into on the 27th June in Lat 50º 49, Long 29º 30., by the steamer Europa. Captain Lott.

The Charles Bartlett was a first rate ship of 400 tons register. She left the Downs from London, bound to New York, on the 14th June, with a general heavy cargo of about 450 tons weight, and 162 passengers in the steerage, one cabin passenger, and fourteen souls of the crew; had fine weather, with light easterly winds, up to the 19th. From that time to the 27th had SW and W winds and foggy weather. At noon it cleared up a little, observed the lat 50º 48´ N., and estimated the long at 29º W., all well on board, and everything looking prosperous. Soon after noon a dense fog set in, wind W by S, ship heading to the NW, close hauled, all sail set. At three o’clock ordered a good look-out from the topgallant forecastle; also directed the man on the wheel to look sharp to windward. At 3. 30 pm being on the weather side of the poop deck, heard a rumbling to windward like distant thunder; turned my ear to windward and my eye to the horizon. The man at the wheel noticing that I was listening, looked to windward and cried out “Sail, ho”. I at once saw what I supposed was a ship about one point forward of our beam, about 400 yards distant. I ordered the helm up, thinking if she did not discover us that we should have time to clear her before she could come into contact. All hands shouted at the same time to alarm the ship, and I ordered the bell to be rung, and ordered the ship to “Port her helm”, as I saw that was the only chance of escape. There was nearly one hundred passengers on the deck at the time. All was of no avail, for in one minute from the time we saw the ship, she was upon us, going at a rate of 12 knots, striking us abreast of the after main shrouds. The crash and the terrible scene which ensued I am not adequate to describe. I was knocked to leeward with the man at the wheel. I recovered myself in a moment, shouting for every person to cling to the steamer as their only hope; I caught hold of a broken chain on the bow and hauled myself up, shouting at the same time to the crew and the passengers to follow. I had barely time to get on the steamer’s bow, and, while getting up I noticed that her bow was into the ship within a foot of the after hatch, and that she was stove clear to the lee side, and that full twenty feet of her side was stove in. There must have been nearly fifty persons killed by the collision, and every exertion was made by Captain Lott, his officers, and crew and the passengers on board the steamer. The boats were lowered as soon as possible. Unfortunately only about ten were saved by the boats, the balance, making about thirty three more or less saved themselves by hanging to the bow. The steamer lay by the scene as long as there was any hope of saving any. Of the crew, Mr. Thomas Parker. of Charleston, S.C., aged twenty-two years; George Parsons, of Portland, Maine, aged eighteen years; and William Rich, of Gravesend, England, aged twenty-five years, were lost.

ACCOUNT OF DISASTER GIVEN BY R.B. FORBES ESQ of BOSTON

[The Liverpool Mercury Friday, July 6th 1849]

After arriving in Liverpool Mr Forbes was awarded a medal by the Liverpool Shipwreck and Humane Society for “his courage and humanity in leaping overboard from the Europa on the occasion of the late collision and assisting in saving the lives of the passengers of the Charles Bartlett. When thanking them for this honour he gave them the following description of the part he played after the collision.

At two o’clock on the day named, not feeling well, I retired to my state-room in the forward cabin, and lay down with my clothes on, on the settee, and soon fell asleep. I was suddenly awakened by a crash and a shock which I could not misunderstand. I rushed upon the deck, and to the port bow of our ship, where the most appalling spectacle presented itself; the bow of our ship appeared to be half way through the barque, having entered her just abaft the main rigging, on the port side. She had all sail set; one glance at the ill fated barque convinced me that she must instantly go down, and that no earthly power could save many of the passengers. The after hatches were obstructed by pieces of broken timber, the main hatch was entirely clear and appeared to be filled with women and children, vainly endeavouring to get on deck. I should judge that the ladder had been knocked down in the general crush. The water at the time was rushing into the vessel like a mill race. Seeing that the only chance to save any, was to lower our boats, I rushed aft taking off my overcoat and my frock coat as I went along, on my way, and when near the after part of the port paddle box, I perceived the men were already clearing away the port quarter boats. I stopped to endeavour to clear away the lifeboat, but being alone, and having nothing but a small knife to cut the lashings, I saw that my efforts would not avail in time. Just as I was abandoning the effort I saw a woman and child, the latter some 10 feet from the woman, floating past the paddle box. I instantly jumped down on the grating or sponson abaft the wheel, crying to the many spectators about the main rigging for a rope; “for god sake give me a rope” but everyone seemed stunned and paralysed by the sudden and awful scene. A man came floating along, alive, and partially sustained by a broken spar. The only rope thrown over, which I should otherwise have got, was thrown to him; he got hold of it and put the noose over his shoulders, and was hauled up. The first part of this act, for the moment, took our attention from the two floating but apparently insensible persons before alluded to, so that by the time the man was safe, the others had sunk too far to be reached. As the sails on the main mast had not been backed, and the wind was on the starboard quarter, the ship forged ahead and to leeward at the rate of one to one and half knots. Supposing that the wrecked matter must be to starboard, I jumped on the deck and passed over to the starboard paddle-box, as low down on the sponson as I could get, and just in time to see a very stout man drifting along, face down, and near the top of the water. Several passengers were collected on the sail, about the main shrouds, to whom I called loudly for a rope. One was thrown over, about ten or twenty feet abaft of me. I scrambled quickly along the side, and, seizing the rope, jumped for the drowning man. The rope was rather short but fortunately the ship, not being steadied by the wheels, rolled towards me. I took advantage of this and got the rope around the man’s body, and the end up, and twice round its own part, before the ship rolled to port again. As I was with the man, partly under the water, and the time very short, this required a great effort.. As the ship rolled again she jerked us both to the side rather rudely. I cried 'Haul up, haul up' but it appeared on subsequent examination, that the rope that I had used was the main sheet, a four inch rope and that the upper end was fast by a moused hook, several feet below the gunwale, and at least eight feet below the upper or monkey rail. The effect of all this and the continued rolling of the steamer was to drag me and my man out of the water, and suddenly immerse us. I could do nothing but cry “Haul up” and endeavour, at each roll into the water, to shut my mouth in time and try to make the rope more secure as it gave a little every time we came out of the water; the man weighing at least 200 and myself 175 pounds when dry, all of which was to be supported by my hand holding two round turns of a short end passed round its own part and slipping at each ascension. Finally some hands succeeded in getting hold of our rope and hauled us up so that my burthen and myself were above the water, or nearly so. At this time I called to one of the party to come down and help me to jamb the turns. As the man was gradually slipping, in consequence of my weight being partly on him. The individual mistaking my order put his [?] on my hands and on the turns and bearing down allowed the man to slip out and go underboard for the second time, and apparently quite lifeless. I ordered the rope let go and went again far under, but did not reach the body. Being now nearly exhausted, I thought it time to take care of myself and took advantage of a boat that came to relief. I got into her, and took the bow oar , the officer, (the fourth mate I think) putting her head towards the pieces of floating wreckage. We soon found two persons, the first I had the pleasure of reaching with a boat hook; hauled him up on board, and the officer immediately went to work on him, reporting signs of life; the other person sank out of sight, while we were getting the first on board. We continued to pull round the wreck until there appeared no chance of saving no more and some danger of losing those we had saved, unless proper means were used; it being very foggy and the ship nearly out of sight, we unwillingly gave up the search for more returned on board. Several hours elapsed before the man hooked up was brought round; the other boat had, in the meantime, picked up a number, and among them the man I had been trying to save. All recovered except this last one. He had a wound in his head and it was generally supposed that he had received a stunning blow at the time of the collision. Although it has taken some time to write these details, only one to one and half minutes elapsed from the time I first jumped on the deck until the ship went down. I was on the port sponson less than that time and on the other side suspended to the man perhaps altogether three or four minutes more. Had the poor woman exhibited any signs of life, or the child, I could not have resisted the impulse to go after them, without a rope or any support, and being a poor swimmer, I might have perished, amid the confusion and noise, before any aid could have reached us.

Robert Forbes (1804-89) was a member of a prominent Bostonian family with interests in shipping and trade with China. His voyage on the Europa was the first leg of his journey to Canton, where he was going to take charge of the affairs of his family in China. In 1847 he had made a name for himself by persuading the US Navy to make available a ship called the Jamestown in which he took food to Ireland during the Famine. Ed.