charge. He was careless of his trust; he was guilty of a crime that nothing will ever wipe out. The bodies of two hundred victims are crying out from the depth of the father of waters for vengeance. Neither society nor law will give it. His punishment is yet to come. May I never meet him!
“I could tell of scenes of horror that would rouse the indignation of a stoic; but I have done. As to myself, I could tell you much to excite your interest. It was more than three weeks after the occurrence before I ever shed a tear. All the fountains of sympathy had been dried up, and my heart was as stone. As I lay on my bed the twenty-fourth day after, tears, salt tears, came to my relief, and I felt the loss of my sisters and brother more deeply than ever. Peace be to their spirits! they found a watery grave.
“In the course of all human events, scenes of misery will occur. But where they rise from sheer carelessness, it requires more than christian fortitude to forgive the being who is in fault. I repeat, may I never meet Captain Castleman or Captain Dougherty!
“I shall follow this tale of woe by some strictures on the mode of building steam-boats in the west, and show that human life has been jeopardised by the demoniac spirit of speculation, cheating and roguery. The fate of the Ben Sherrod shall be my text.”
It will be seen from this narrative, that the loss of the vessel was occasioned by racing with another boat, a frequent practice on the Mississippi. That people should run such risk, will appear strange but if any of my readers had ever been on board of a steam vessel in a race, they would not be surprised; the excitement produced by it is the most powerful that can be conceived—I have myself experienced it, and can answer for the truth of it. At first, the feeling of danger predominates, and many of the passengers beg the captain to desist: but he cannot bear to be passed by, and left astern. As the race continues, so do they all warm up, until even those who, most aware of the danger, were at first most afraid, are to be seen standing over the very boilers, shouting, huzzaing, and stimulating the fireman to blow them up; the very danger gives an unwonted interest to the scene; and females, as well as men, would never be persuaded to cry out, “Hold, enough!”
Another proof of the disregard of human life is here given in the fact of one steam-boat passing by and rendering no assistance to the drowning wretches; nay, it was positively related to me by one who was in the water, that the blows of the paddles of this steam-boat sent down many who otherwise might have been saved.
When I was on the Lakes, the wood which was piled close to the fire-place caught fire. It was of no consequence, as it happened, for it being a well-regulated boat, the fire was soon extinguished; but I mention it to show the indifference of one of the men on board. About half an hour afterwards, one of his companions roused him from his berth, shaking him by the shoulder to wake him, saying, “Get up, the wood’s a-fire—quick.” “Well, I knew that ’fore I turn’d in,” replied the man, yawning.
The loss of the Home occasioned many of the first families in the states to go into deep mourning, for the major portion of the passengers were highly respectable. I was at New York when she started. I had had an hour’s conversation with Professor Nott and his amiable wife, and had made arrangements with them to meet them in South Carolina. We never met again, for they were in the list of those who perished.
“The steam-packet Home, commanded by Capt. White, left New York, for Charleston, South Carolina, at four o’clock, p.m., on Saturday, the 7th Oct. 1837, having on board between eighty and ninety passengers, and forty-three of the boat’s crew, including officers, making in all about one hundred and thirty persons. The weather at this time was very pleasant, and all on board appeared to enjoy, in anticipation, a delightful and prosperous passage. On leaving the wharf, cheerfulness appeared to fill the hearts and enliven the countenances of this floating community. Already had conjectures been hazarded, as to the time of their arrival at the destined port, and high hopes were entertained of an expeditious and pleasant voyage. Before six o’clock,—a check to these delusive expectations was experienced, by the boat being run aground on the Romer Shoal, near Sandy Hook. It being ebb tide, it was found impossible to get off before the next flood; consequently, the fires were allowed to burn out, and the boat remained until the flood tide took her off, which was between ten and eleven o’clock at night, making the time of detention about four or five hours. As the weather was perfectly calm, it cannot, reasonably, be supposed that the boat could have received any material injury from this accident; for, during the time that it remained aground, it had no other motion than an occasional roll on the keel from side to side. The night continued pleasant. The next morning, (Sunday,) a moderate breeze prevailed from the north-east. The sails were spread before the wind, and the speed of the boat, already rapid, was much accelerated. All went on pleasantly till about noon, when the wind had increased, and the sea became rough. At sunset, the wind blew heavily, and continued to increase during the night; at daylight, on Monday, it had become a gale. During the night, much complaint was made that the water came into the berths, and before the usual time of rising, some of the passengers had abandoned them on that account.
“The sea, from the violence of the gale, raged frightfully, and caused a general anxiety amongst the passengers; but still, they appeared to rely on the skill and judgment of the captain and officers,—supposing, that every exertion would be used, on their part, for the preservation of so many valuable lives as were then entrusted to those who had the charge of this frail boat. Early on Monday, land was discovered, nearly ahead, which, by many, was supposed to be False Cape, on the northern part of Hatteras. Soon after this discovery, the course of the boat was changed from southerly to south-easterly, which was the general course through the day, though with some occasional changes. The condition of the boat was now truly alarming; it bent and twisted, when struck by a sea, as if the next would rend it asunder: the panels of the ceiling were falling from their places; and the hull, as if united by hinges, was bending against the feet of the braces. Throughout the day, the rolling and pitching were so great, that no cooking could be done on board.
“It has already been stated, that the general course of the boat was, during the day, south-easterly, and consequently in what is called the trough of the sea, as the wind was from the north-east. Late in the afternoon, the boat was reported to be in twenty-three fathoms of water, when the course was changed to a south-westerly. Soon after this, it was observed that the course was again changed, to north-westerly; when the awful truth burst upon us, that the boat must be filling; for we could imagine no other cause for this sudden change. This was but a momentary suspense; for within a few minutes, all the passengers were called on to bale, in order to prevent the boat from sinking. Immediately, all were employed, but with little effect; for, notwithstanding the greatest exertion on the part of the passengers, including even many of the ladies, the water was rapidly increasing, and gave most conclusive evidence, that, unless we reached the shore within a few hours, the boat must sink at sea, and probably not a soul be left to communicate the heart-rending intelligence to bereaved and disconsolate friends. Soon after the boat was headed towards the land, the water had increased so much, as to reach the fire under the boilers, which was soon extinguished. Gloomy indeed was the prospect before us. With one hundred and thirty persons in a sinking boat, far out at sea, in a dark and tempestuous night, with no other dependence for reaching the shore than a few small and tattered sails, our condition might be considered truly awful. But, with all these disheartening circumstances, hope, delusive hope, still supported us. Although it was evident that we must soon sink, and our progress towards the land was very slow, still we cherished the expectation that the boat would finally be run on shore, and thus most of us be delivered from a watery grave. Early in the afternoon, the ladies had been provided with strips of blankets, that they might be lashed to such parts of the boat as would afford the greatest probability of safety.
“In this condition, and with these expectations, we gradually, but with a motion nearly imperceptible, approached, what to many of us was an untried, and almost an unknown shore. At about eleven o’clock, those who had been employed in baling were compelled to leave the cabin, as the boat had sunk until the deck was nearly level with the water, and it appeared too probable that all would soon be swallowed up by the foaming waves. The heaving of the lead indicated an approach to the shore. Soon was the cheering intelligence of ‘Land! land!’ announced by those on the look-out. This, for a moment, aroused the sinking energies of all, when a general bustle ensued, in the hasty, but trifling,