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
PREFACE
Shipwreck may be ranked among the greatest evils which man can experience. It is never void of danger, frequently of fatal issue, and invariably productive of regret. It is one against which there is the least resource, where patience, fortitude and ingenuity are in most cases, unavailing, except to protract a struggle with destiny, which, at length, proves irresistible.
But amidst the myriads unceasingly swallowed up by the deep, it is not by the numbers that we are to judge of the miseries endured. Hundreds may at once meet an instantaneous fate, hardly conscious of its approach, while a few individuals may linger out existence, daily in hope of succor, and at length be compelled to the horrible alternative of preying on each other for the support of life. Neither is it by the Narratives about to be given that we are to calculate on the frequency of shipwreck. It is an event that has been of constant occurrence since a period long anterior to what the earliest records can reach. In England it is calculated that about 5000 natives of the British Isles yearly perish at sea.
This perpetual exposure to peril, however, materially contributes to the formation of character, and hence are sailors preeminently distinguished by courage, endurance, and ready invention. Habituated to the instability of the ocean, they make little account of danger, and are invariably the first in matters of the most daring enterprise. Incessantly subjected to toil, they labor long and patiently without murmur, and the prompt and vigorous measures which are indispensable to their security, teach them the immediate application of whatever means are within their power.
A natural desire to know the fate of their fellow creatures seems implanted in the breast of mankind, and the most powerful sympathies are excited by listening to the misfortunes of the innocent. To record some impressive examples of calamity, or unlooked for deliverance, is the object of these pages; and it will be seen of what astonishing advantage are the virtues of decision, temperance, perseverance and unwavering hope in moments of extreme peril and despair.
ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN WOODWARD AND FIVE SEAMEN IN THE ISLAND OF CELEBES
In the year 1791, Woodward sailed from Boston in the ship Robert Morris, Captain Hay, for the East Indies. On his arrival there he was employed in making country voyages until the 20th of January, when he sailed as chief-mate in an American ship from Batavia bound to Manilla.
In passing through the straits of Macassar, they found the wind and current both against them, and after beating up for six weeks they fell short of provision. Captain Woodward and five seamen were sent to purchase some from a vessel about four leagues distant. They were without water, provisions, or compass,—having on board only an axe, a boat hook, two penknives, a useless gun and forty dollars in cash.
They reached the ship at sunset, and were told by the captain that he had no provision to spare as he was bound to China and was victualled for only one month. He advised them to stay until morning, which they did. But when morning dawned, their own ship was out of sight even from the mast head, and with a fair wind for her to go through the straits of Macassar. Being treated coolly by the captain, they agreed with one voice to leave the ship in search of their own. On leaving the vessel, the captain gave them twelve musket cartridges and a round bottle of brandy, but neither water nor provision of any sort.
They rowed till twelve o’clock at night, in hopes of seeing their own vessel, and then drawing near an island they thought it prudent to go there to get some fresh water.—They landed and made a large fire in hopes their ship might see it. But not being able to see any thing of her in the morning and finding no water or provisions on the island, they continued their course in the middle of the straits six days longer, without going on shore or tasting of any thing but brandy. They soon had the shore of Celebes in sight, where they determined to go in search of provisions and then to proceed to Macassar.
As they approached the shore they saw two proas full of natives, who immediately put themselves in a posture of defence. The sailors made signs to them that they wanted provisions, but instead of giving it the Malays began to brandish their cresses or steel daggers. Three of the men jumped on board a proa to beg some Indian corn, and got three or four small ears. The chief seemed quite friendly and agreed to sell captain Woodward two cocoa nuts for a dollar, but as soon as he had received the money, he immediately began to strip him in search of more. Captain Woodward defended himself with a hatchet and ordered the boat to be shoved off, the chief levelled a musket at him, but fortunately it missed him.
They then stood off, went round a point of land and landed out of sight of the proas, when they found a plenty of cocoa nut trees. Captain Woodward while engaged in cutting them down, heard the man whom he had left to take care of the boat, scream out in a most bitter manner. He ran immediately to the beach where he saw his own boat off at some distance full of Malays and the poor fellow who guarded it lying on his back with his throat cut, and his body stabbed in several places.
They now fled immediately to the mountains, and finding that they had lost their boat, money, and most of their clothes, they concluded that their only chance of escape was to get to Macassar by land. Being afraid to travel in the day time they set out in the evening, taking a star for their guide bearing south. But they soon lost sight of the star and at daylight found themselves within a few rods of the place, where they had set out. They had travelled on the side of a mountain, and had gone quite round it instead of going straight over it. They started again and travelled by the sea shore six nights successively, living on berries and water found in the hollows of trees.
On the sixth they arrived at a bay where they saw a party of the Malays fishing. Here Captain Woodward found some yellowish berries which were to him quite palatable, but his men not liking them eat some of the leaves. On the next day they concluded to make a raft and go to the small island on which they first landed, thinking that they might be taken off from it by some ship passing that way. But they were obliged to abandon this project, for in the evening the men who had eaten the leaves, were attacked with violent pains and were crying out in torture during the whole night.—Although they got better towards evening yet they were so weak and dejected that Captain Woodward was convinced that they could not reach the island and asked them if they were willing to surrender themselves to the Malays. On reflection they all thought this the best course which they could take; and forthwith proceeded to the bay where they had seen the Malays in the morning, in order at once either to find friends or to meet their fate. At first they saw no one, but Captain Woodward soon saw three of the natives approaching him; and ordering his men to keep quiet, he advanced alone until he had come within a short distance of them, where they stopped and drew out their cresses or knives.—Captain Woodward fell on his knees and begged for mercy. The Malays looked at him for about ten minutes with their knives drawn, when one of them came towards him, knelt in the same manner and offered both his hands. More natives now came up and stripped them of their hats and handkerchiefs and even the buttons on their jackets, which they took for money.
They were now taken to Travalla and carried to the court-house or judgment hall, accompanied by a great concourse of people, including women and children who made a circle at some distance from them. The chief soon entered, looking as wild as a madman, carrying in his hand a large drawn cress or knife, the blade of which was two feet and half long and very bright. Captain Woodward approached so near to him as to place the foot of the chief on his own head, as a token that he was completely under his power and direction. The chief after holding a short consultation, returned to his house and brought out five pieces of betel nut, which he gave to the sailors as a token of friendship.
They were now permitted to rest until about eight o’clock when they were carried to the Rajah’s house, where they found a supper provided for them of sago-bread and peas, but in all hardly enough for one man. Their allowance afterwards was for each man a cocoa nut and an ear of Indian corn at noon, and the same at night. In this manner they lived about twenty days, but were not allowed to go out except to the water to bathe. The natives soon began to relax their vigilance over them, and in about four months, they were conveyed to the head Rajah of Parlow. They had not been there long when the head Rajah sent to a Dutch port called