The Wreck of the Grosvenor, Volume 3 of 3: An account of the mutiny of the crew and the loss of the ship when trying to make the BermudasRussell, William Clark
General
The Wreck of the Grosvenor, Volume 3 of 3: An account of the mutiny of the crew and the loss of the ship when trying to make the Bermudas
When her great outburst of grief was passed, I made her sit; and
then she told me that when she had left the deck, she had looked at
her father before lying down, and thought him sleeping very calmly.
He was not dead then. Oh, no! she had noticed by the motion of the
covering on him that he was breathing peacefully. Being very tired she
had fallen asleep quickly, and slept soundly. She awoke, not half an
hour before she heard me trying the handle of the door. The rolling
and straining of the ship frightened her, and she heard one of the
masts go overboard. She got out of bed, meaning to call her father, so
that he might be ready to follow her, if the ship were sinking (as she
believed it was), on to the deck, but could not wake him. She took him
by the arm, and this bringing her close to his face, she saw that he
was dead. She would have called me, but dreaded to leave the cabin lest
she should be separated from her father. Meanwhile she heard the fall
of another mast alongside, and the ship at the moment rolling heavily,
she believed the vessel actually sinking, and flung herself upon
her father's body, praying to God that her death might be mercifully
speedy, and that the waves might not separate them in death.
At this point she broke down and cried again bitterly.
When I came to think over what she had gone through during that half
hour--the dead body of her father before her, of him whose life a few
hours before she had no serious fear of, and the bitterness of death
which she had tasted in the dreadful persuasion that the vessel was
sinking, I was too much affected to speak. I could only hold her hands
and caress them, wondering in my heart that God who loves and blesses
all things that are good and pure, should single out this beautiful,
helpless, heroic girl for suffering so complicated and miserable.
After a while I explained that it was necessary I should leave her, as
I was desirous of observing the position of the sun, and promised, if
no new trouble detained me on deck, to return to her as soon as I had
completed my observations.
So without further words I came away and got my sextant, and went on
deck.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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