"December 16th.--The crew continuing night and day at the pumps, could not keep the ship free; deemed it prudent for the benefit of those concerned to bear up for the nearest port.On arriving in lat.48 deg.45' N., long.23 deg.W., observed a vessel with a signal of distress flying.Made towards her, when she proved to be the barque 'Carleton,' water-logged.The captain and crew asked to be taken off.Hove to, and received them on board, consisting of thirteen men: and their ship was abandoned.We then proceeded on our course, the crew of the abandoned vessel assisting all they could to keep my ship afloat.We arrived at Cork harbor on the 27th ult."Captain Coulson, master of the brig "Othello," reports that his brig foundered off Portland, December 27;--encountering a strong gale, and shipping two heavy seas in succession, which hove the ship on her beam-ends."Observing no chance of saving the ship, took to the long boat, and within ten minutes of leaving her saw the brig founder.We were picked up the same morning by the French ship 'Commerce de Paris,' Captain Tombarel."Here, in a single column of a newspaper, what strange, touching pictures do we find of seamen's dangers, vicissitudes, gallantry, generosity! The ship on fire--the captain in the gale slinging himself in a bowline to stop the leak--the Frenchman in the hour of danger coming to his British comrade's rescue--the brigantine almost a wreck, working up to the barque with the signal of distress flying, and taking off her crew of thirteen men."We then proceeded on our course, THE CREW OF THE ABANDONED VESSEL ASSISTING ALL THEYCOULD TO KEEP MY SHIP AFLOAT." What noble, simple words! What courage, devotedness, brotherly love! Do they not cause the heart to beat, and the eyes to fill?
This is what seamen do daily, and for one another.One lights occasionally upon different stories.It happened, not very long since, that the passengers by one of the great ocean steamers were wrecked, and, after undergoing the most severe hardships, were left, destitute and helpless, at a miserable coaling port.Amongst them were old men, ladies, and children.When the next steamer arrived, the passengers by that steamer took alarm at the haggard and miserable appearance of their unfortunate predecessors, and actually REMONSTRATED WITH THEIR OWN CAPTAIN, URGING HIM NOT TO TAKE THE POORCREATURES ON BOARD.There was every excuse, of course.The last-arrived steamer was already dangerously full: the cabins were crowded; there were sick and delicate people on board--sick and delicate people who had paid a large price to the company for room, food, comfort, already not too sufficient.If fourteen of us are in an omnibus, will we see three or four women outside and say "Come in, because this is the last 'bus, and it rains?" Of course not:
but think of that remonstrance, and of that Samaritan master of the "Purchase" brigantine!
In the winter of '53, I went from Marseilles to Civita Vecchia, in one of the magnificent P.and O.ships, the "Valetta," the master of which subsequently did distinguished service in the Crimea.This was his first Mediterranean voyage, and he sailed his ship by the charts alone, going into each port as surely as any pilot.Iremember walking the deck at night with this most skilful, gallant, well-bred, and well-educated gentleman, and the glow of eager enthusiasm with which he assented, when I asked him whether he did not think a RIBBON or ORDER would be welcome or useful in his service.
Why is there not an ORDER OF BRITANNIA for British seamen? In the Merchant and the Royal Navy alike, occur almost daily instances and occasions for the display of science, skill, bravery, fortitude in trying circumstances, resource in danger.In the first number of the Cornhill Magazine, a friend contributed a most touching story of the M'Clintock expedition, in the dangers and dreadful glories of which he shared; and the writer was a merchant captain.How many more are there (and, for the honor of England, may there be many like him!)--gallant, accomplished, high-spirited, enterprising masters of their noble profession! Can our fountain of Honor not be brought to such men? It plays upon captains and colonels in seemly profusion.It pours forth not illiberal rewards upon doctors and judges.It sprinkles mayors and aldermen.It bedews a painter now and again.It has spirited a baronetcy upon two, and bestowed a coronet upon one noble man of letters.Diplomatists take their Bath in it as of right; and it flings out a profusion of glittering stars upon the nobility of the three kingdoms.Cannot Britannia find a ribbon for her sailors? The Navy, royal or mercantile, is a Service.The command of a ship, or the conduct of her, implies danger, honor, science, skill, subordination, good faith.It may be a victory, such as that of the "Sarah Sands;" it may be discovery, such as that of the "Fox;" it may be heroic disaster, such as that of the "Birkenhead;" and in such events merchant seamen, as well as royal seamen, take their share.
Why is there not, then, an Order of Britannia? One day a young officer of the "Euryalus " may win it; and, having just read the memoirs of LORD DUNDONALD, I know who ought to have the first Grand Cross.
Prince Alfred was serving on board the frigate "Euryalus" when this was written.
