Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
Ensign Faulkner was a strong, active, enterprising man, and fully
capable of adopting whatever means could be devised for preservation.
Both he and Lieutenant Dawson, who was scarce more than 17 years of
age, were of the greatest promise. While the transport lay about three
miles from Portsmouth, they are said to have swam to the ship, when
the former climbed up her side, but the latter was nearly exhausted.
A brig from Port, which touched at Newfoundland, carried five of the
survivors from thence to Quebec; and when they arrived there in the
barrack square, a most affecting scene ensued. Men and women eagerly
flocked around them, with anxious inquiries for some friend or brother
who was on board the ill-fated vessel. But all they could answer was,
"If you do not see him here, be assured he has perished; for, of 347
souls, we five Irish lads and two sailors are all that remain alive."
The tears and exclamations following these words can scarce be
described.
THE ABSENT SHIP.
Fair ship, I saw thee bounding o'er the deep,
Thy white wings glancing in the morning ray
And many a sparkling eye in vain did weep
For the bold hearts that steer'd thee on thy way:
Long days of grief have lingered into years:
Return! return! and charm away their tears.
I listen'd till the music and the song
Died on the waters as she swept along;
I watch'd her stately beauty, till it grew
A fading shadow on the distant blue;
Less, and still less--the waters are alone!
Queen of the ocean! whither art thou gone?
The wintry storm hath sighed itself to sleep,
Yet still thou lingerest on the faithless deep;
Have calmer seas, and skies of deeper blue,
Charm'd thee to bid thine island home adieu!
Long has yon dark-eye'd maiden wept in vain:
Return! return! and bid her smile again.
Long may'st thou weep, but never shalt thou see
Thy fair-hair'd mariner return to thee,
Clasp thy young beauty in a long embrace,
And read his pardon in thy happy face;
Thy gentle prayers, fair mourner, could not save!
Thy sailor sleeps within the stormy wave.
[Illustration: WRECK OF THE HALSEWELL, ON THE COAST OF ENGLAND]
LOSS OF THE HALSEWELL.
The catastrophe which is now about to be related made a deep
impression on the public mind. The circumstances attending it were too
aggravating not to excite the highest degree of commiseration, whether
from the flattering prospects held forth in the outset of the voyage,
or from a peculiar feeling towards the condition of the sufferers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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