Captain Nicholls continued loading and firing as fast as possible, when he perceived the two ships speak with each other, and setting their foresail and topsails, they hauled their wind, and stood off. Supposing that the size of his ship, and her having so many men on board, added to its being the time of war, might occasion distrust, he ordered the main-mast to be cut away to undeceive them. People had been placed in the shrouds to cut away in case of necessity; but one of the shrouds not being properly cut, checked the main-mast and made it fall right across the boats. On this Captain Nicholls hastily ran aft, and cut the penters of both the boats, otherwise they would have been staved to pieces, and sunk immediately. A dismal thing it was to cut away what could be the only means of saving the people's lives, and at the same time see the ships so basely leave them. No words can picture their distress; driven from the greatest joy to the utmost despair, death now appeared more dreadful. They had only the foresail hanging in the brails; and the braces of both penters being rendered useless by the fall of the main-mast, and the yard flying backward and forward by the rolling of the ship, rendered them apprehensive that she would instantly overset. The ship ran from the boats, until they remained just in sight; and finding they made no endeavor to join her, though each was provided with oars, foremast and foresail, Captain Nicholls consulted with the boatswain on what was most proper to be done in their dangerous condition. He said that he thought they should bring the ship to at all events, though he acknowledged it a dreadful alternative to hazard her oversetting; the boatswain agreed that it was extremely dangerous, as the vessel steered very well. However, Captain Nicholls finding that the men in the boat did not attempt to join him, called the people aft, and told them his resolution. They said it was desperate, and so was their condition, but they were ready to do whatever he thought best. But Captain Moore seemed to be quite against it. Captain Nicholls then acquainted the old gentleman, the priest and the rest of the people, who were pleased to say, let the consequence be what it might, they should be satisfied, he had acted for the best, and all were resigned to the consequences.
He therefore ordered men to every fore shroud, and one with an axe to the foremast to cut it away should that measure become indispensable. But his own situation he declares to have been in the meantime dreadful; in reflecting that this alternative, though in his judgment right, might be the means of sending nearly four hundred souls to eternity. However, the Almighty endowed him with resolution to persevere, and he gave orders to bring the ship to. In hauling out the mizen, which had been greatly chafed, it split; a new staysail was then bent to bring the ship to, which had the desired effect after a considerable time, for a heavy sea striking on the starboard quarter, excited an apprehension that it would be necessary to cut away the mast. When the men in the yawl saw the ship lying to for them, they got up their foremast, and ran on board, holding the sheets in their hands on account of the wind; and as soon as they arrived some men were sent to row to the assistance of the long-boat. They soon joined her, got her foremast up, set the sail, as the cutter likewise did, and to the great joy of all, reached the ship in safety.
Just as the boats came up, the people at the mast-head exclaimed, "A sail! a sail!" and the captain thought it better to let the ship lie, as by seeing the main-mast gone, it might be known that she was in distress. The weather was hazy, and he could see to no great distance, but the strange vessel was soon near enough to perceive and hear his guns. She had scarce hoisted her colors, which were Danish, when her main-topsail sheet gave way; on observing which, Captain Nicholls conceiving her main-topsail was to be clewed up, and she would come to his assistance, immediately imparted the good news to the priest and the rest. Poor deluded people, they hugged him in their arms, calling him their friend and preserver; but, alas! it was short lived joy, for as soon as the Dane had knotted, or spliced her topsail sheet, she stood away, and left them. "What pen is able," says Captain Nicholls, "to describe the despair that reigned in the ship!" The poor unhappy people wringing their hands, cried out, "that God had forsaken them."
It was now about three in the afternoon; Captain Nicholls wore the ship, which she bore very well, and steered tolerably before the wind.
Towards half an hour afterwards, the old gentleman came to him in tears, and taking him in his arms, said he came by desire of the whole people to request that he and his men would endeavor to save their lives in the boats, and as these were insufficient to carry more, they would by no means be accessory to their destruction; they were well convinced by their whole conduct that they had done every thing in their power for their preservation; but that God Almighty had ordained them to perish, though they trusted he and his men would get safe on shore. Such gratitude for only doing a duty in endeavoring to save the lives of the prisoners, as well as their own, astonished Captain Nicholls; he replied, that there was no hopes of life, and as all had embarked in the same unhappy voyage, they should all take the same chance. He thought that they ought to share the same fate. The old gentleman said that should not be, and if he did not acquaint his people with the offer he should have their lives to answer for. Accordingly the captain mentioned it to Captain Moore and the people. They said that they would with the greatest satisfaction remain, could any thing be devised for the preservation of the others; but that being impossible, they would not refuse to comply with their request. The people then thanking them for their great kindness, with tears in the eyes of all, hastened down the stern ladder.
As the boats ranged up by the sea under the ships counter, those that went last cast themselves down, and were caught by the men in the boat. Captain Nicholls told them, he trusted to their honor that they would not leave him, as he was determined not to quit the ship until it was dark, in hopes that Providence would yet send something to their aid; the whole assured him that he should not be deserted.
He had a little Norse boy on board, whom no entreaties could persuade to enter the boat until he himself had done so; but as it was growing dark, he insisted on the boy's going, saying he would immediately follow him. The boy obeyed, and got on the stern ladder, when a Frenchman whom the dread of death induced to quit his wife and children unperceived, made over the taffrail and trod on the Norse boy's fingers. The boy screamed aloud, which led Captain Nicholls to believe that some person was in danger, and on repairing to the place, followed by the old gentleman, they found to their great surprise, that the man, who had a wife and children on board, was attempting to get away and save himself. The old gentleman calling him by his name, said he was sorry to find him base enough to desert his family. He seemed ashamed of what he had done, and returned over the taffrail. By this time, the people of the boat begged the captain to come, as the blows she received from below the ship's counter, were like to sink her.
Captain Nicholls seeing the priest stretching his arms over the rails in great emotion, and apparently under strong apprehensions of death, asked him whether he was willing to take his chance in the boat. He replied in the affirmative, if there was room; and on learning that there was, he immediately went and gave the people his benediction; and after saluting the old gentleman, tucked up his conical robes and forsook the vessel. Captain Nicholls saluted him likewise, and several others, and then left them praying for his safety.
When he entered the boat he bid the sailors cast her adrift; it was very dark, and they had neither moon nor stars to direct them. "What a terrible situation!" he exclaims, "we were twenty-seven in the long-boat, and nine in the cutter, without victuals or drink." Uncertain of their distance from the English coast, they agreed to keep as close as possible to the ship.
It began to blow very fresh, with sleet and snow; the people were fatigued to the uttermost, from working so long at the pumps, and after sitting in the wet and cold, they began to wish that they had staid in the ship and perished, as now they might die a lingering death. Either alternative was awful. Destitute of provision, it was most probable that one must be sacrificed by lot to keep the others alive; and their dismal situation, in arousing the most horrible anticipations, made them forbode the worst.
The boats now began to make water, yet the men refused to bail them, they were in a state of such extreme weariness, and not having slept for four nights, became regardless of their fate. Captain Nicholls, nevertheless, prevailed on them to free the long-boat of water.
Having a brisk gale, they soon ran a long way from their unfortunate ship, when to their great distress, it fell quite calm at ten in the morning. This threw the people in despair, their courage began to fail, and as they could not expect to live so long as to make the land, death seemed again staring them in the face.
Some time after this unlucky party forsook the ship, four of the French prisoners let a small jolly-boat, which was still remaining, overboard, with two small paddles, and swam to her; and just as they left the vessel, her decks blew up with a report like a gun. She sunk in the ocean, and three hundred and sixty souls perished with her.
Captain Nicholls, at length observing the water colored, asked whether they had any twine, on which one of them gave him a ball from his pocket; they knocked the bolts off the knees of the long-boat, wherewith to make a deep-sea lead, and sounding with it were rejoiced to find only 45 fathom water. But the people complaining greatly of hunger and thirst, Captain Nicholls said he was sorry to acquaint them that he had nothing for them to eat or drink, yet encouraged them to bear up with manly resolution, as by their soundings they were near Scilly, and he doubted not, if it cleared, that they should see the land.
The little Norse boy, who had always kept close by the captain, now said that he had got some bread, and on taking it from the bosom of his shirt, it proved to be like baker's dough; however, it was bread, and very acceptable. The whole might amount to about four pounds; and Captain Nicholls having put it into his hat, distributed it equally, calling for those in the yawl to receive their share. But instead of being a relief, it increased their troubles, for being wet and clammy, it hung to the roof of their mouths, having nothing to wash it down. Mr. Fox had some allspice also, which was of little service; having been cut in pieces, the people forced it down their throats, which created some saliva, and by that means it was swallowed.
About noon, a light air sprung up at south-west. Each boat had a foremast, foresail and oars; but owing to the boats having been foul of the main-mast, all the oars were washed away except two from each. Captain Nicholls was told, in answer to his inquiries concerning a noise among the crew, that two seamen were disputing about a couple of blankets, which one of them had brought from the ship. These blankets he ordered to be thrown overboard, rather than they should be suffered to breed any quarrel, as in their unhappy condition it was no time to have disputes. But on reflection having desired that they should be brought to him, he thought of converting them to use, by forming each into a main-sail. Therefore, one oar was erected for a main-mast, and the other broke to the breadth of the blankets for a yard. The people in the cutter observing what was done in the long-boat, converted a hammock which they had on board into a main-sail.
At four in the afternoon it cleared up, when the adventurers descried a brig about two miles distant, to which Captain Nicholls ordered the cutter to give chase, as it being lighter than the long-boat, would sooner get up, and let her know their distress. But the brig, seeing the boats after their course, directly stood from them, owing, as Captain Nicholls supposed, to their odd appearance. For war then prevailing, they were probably taken for the French lugsail-boats, that used to frequent the lands off Scilly. The cutter, however, gained fast on the brig, when, having got about half way, a very thick fog came on, and neither the brig nor the cutter were again seen from the long-boat.
Night fell, and the weather still continuing very foggy, the people, almost dead for want of sleep, reposed themselves, sitting half way in water, it being impossible for so many to find seats. Their captain, anxious for their lives and his own, strove to keep his eyes open, though it was the fifth night that he had taken no rest. About eleven o'clock, when every one was asleep but the helmsman and himself, he thought that he saw land. Yet he was determined not to call out land until he should be sure that it was so. He squeezed his eyelids together to let the water run out of his eyes, as he found them very dim.
Again he thought he saw land very plain, and was convinced that he could not be deceived. By this time the man at the helm had dropped asleep, and he took the tiller himself.--Some space longer elapsed before he would disturb any body, but at last he awoke Captain Moore, telling him he thought he saw land. Captain Moore only answered that they should never see land again. Captain Nicholls then awoke Mr. Fox, who had obtained a sound sleep, and seemed quite refreshed. He immediately cried out that they were near land and close in with the breakers. Lucky it was that he had been awakened, otherwise, Captain Nicholls, from being absolutely unacquainted with them, was satisfied that all on board would have perished.
At the word land every one awoke, and, with some difficulty, the boat cleared the rocks. At first the precise part of the English coast could not be ascertained, but, as it cleared more and more every moment, Captain Nicholls, on looking under the lee-leech of the blanket main-sail, discerned St. Michael's Mount in Mount's Bay. The boat would not fetch the land near Penzance, and, as she had no oars, it was determined to avoid steering round the Lizard and so for Falmouth, but to run her boldly on shore, whatever place she might chance to make. It was a fine night, and, after getting round the point, the people found the water very smooth; keeping the boat close to the wind, they made between Penzance and the point.
Their joy at finding themselves in so favorable a situation, is not to be conceived; it gave them new life and strength.--Those who were forward, exclaimed that there were two rocks ahead, Captain Nicholls hastened before, and his sight having come well to him, he carried the boat between them without touching ground, and in a little time ran her ashore on a sandy beach.
The seamen leapt into the water, and carried the priest and the captain ashore. The former, kneeling down, made a short prayer, and then coming to embrace Captain Nicholls, called him his preserver, and said that he had rescued him from death.
Leaving the boat as she lay, all made the best of their way to the town of Penzance. But some of the people, with sleeping wet, were so much benumbed, that they could scarce get along; and captain Nicholls himself declares, that, from the time of the ship's springing a leak, until that hour, he had had no sleep, and very little sustenance. However, having fallen in with a run of fresh water on the road to Penzance, all were revived by drinking heartily of it.
The party, reaching the town about three in the morning, made up to a tavern where they saw a light, and, as it had been a market day, the mistress of the house was still up.--When Captain Nicholls entered by the door, which was not locked, she was undressing, with her back to a fire, the light he had seen, and being greatly alarmed, screamed, "Murder! thieves!"
The appearance of twenty-seven people at such an unseasonable hour, was certainly enough to create apprehension, especially from the condition which they were in. But the captain endeavoring to pacify her, requested she would call her husband or servants, as they were shipwrecked men, and give them some refreshment. The landlord soon came, and, having provided provisions, the people got into as many beds as were there, while the rest of them slept on the floor by the side of the fire.
Next morning the captain, accompanied by the priest, went to the Mayor of the town to make a protest before a notary, and to see if he could get credit, as both he and the people were in want of every necessary, and it was many miles to London. The Mayor received him kindly, but told him that he was no merchant, and that he never supplied people in the condition that he was in, with money, but if he pleased, he would send a servant with him to Mr. Charles Langford, a merchant who generally supplied the masters of vessels in distress with necessaries. Mr. Langford received Captain Nicholls politely, but, in answer to his request for credit, said, that he had made a resolution not to supply with credit any man to whom he was an entire stranger, as he had been deceived by one very lately; and, though his might have been a large ship, to judge by the boat which was come on shore, he, the captain, might not be concerned in her, and, as he should want a great deal of money, he should beg to be excused.--Captain Nicholls answered, that he was partly owner of the ship, and Mr. Langford might be certain that his bills were duly honored. However, he said he could not do it.
Captain Nicholls, grievously disappointed, returned to the inn, where several tradesmen had arrived to furnish the people with clothes and other necessaries. He told the latter he could get no credit, but that they must travel on as far as Exeter, where he was sure of obtaining relief, which was very unwelcome news, as most of the people wanted shoes. The captain next requested the landlord of the inn to get them some breakfast, but he desired to be excused, and wished to know if the captain could get no credit, how he was to be paid. Captain Nicholls was quite at a loss how to act; being denied both credit and victuals, he thought that he would pawn or sell his ring, watch, buckles and buttons. Accordingly, returning to Mr. Langford, he begged he would give him what he thought proper for these things. He took the ring from his finger, the watch from his pocket, and, with tears in his eyes was going to take the buckles from his shoes, when Mr. Langford prevented him, saying he should have credit for as much as he pleased, for he believed him to be an honest man, and saw that his people's distress touched him more, if possible, than his own misfortunes. He then gave what money the captain required.
During these transactions, the second mate and the eight men belonging to the cutter arrived. They said it was so very thick they could not come up with the brig which they were in pursuit of, and that, seeing the Lands-End when it cleared, they got ashore. As nobody would buy the cutter, they had left her, and had inquired the way to Penzance, where, being in great distress, they rejoiced to meet their comrades.
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