JACK'S VICISSITUDES

Auckland Star, Volume I, Issue 240, 15 October 1870, Page 2

JACK'S VICISSITUDES

Crttise wlierc wo will, or with whatsoever ship's company we may, we shall always find one of those unfortunate fellows who are ever experiencing some kind of disaster. The following story of Jack Palmer, related as true by the surgeon of Her Majesty's brig R , is a remarkable instance of the inexplicable sporis of fortune : — After leaving the Nore, on a voyage to the West. liulies, we had extremely heavy weather ; it blew, a3 sailora say,' great guns.' Before midnight we encountered a perfect hurricane. Towards daylight,, however, when we were off the Goodwin Sands, it somewhat abated. At this period, the lieutenant thought he perceived sotneting like the remains of a vessel's upper-rigging standing out oi tho water. A nearer, inspection justified the suspicion, for we discovered that portion of a vessel, which hud been wrecked during the night, and to it still clinging a soliiury sailor, but .whether alive or dead, we could not descry. Although greatly hazardous, a boat was despatched from the brig, which, after considerable difficulty, suflidbntly neared the wreck, to which the poor fellow was lashed, and we wera enabled to effect his rescue,

The sailor was brought on board almost dead from the effects of extreme cold and senWater. He proved to be an unusually fine and athletic young man, and was the only survivor of twenty who had been on 'board the vessel—a West India trader, homeward bound. His name was. Jack Palmer, and, in a few days, he become one of the finest seamen on board the brig. '.-:■>'■ :.-.-' ■ . .■•; Not many weeks after this hair breadth escape, this unfortunate fellow felt overboard from off the jib-boom end. .This-occurred in the middle of a- remarkably line day, and,' luckily, there was" not niuch way upon the vessel at the time,-iof the: accident. ;. He ~had scarcely fallen under the bows before' the alarm was given of a man overboard. I was at the moiient looking over the taflrail; watching-the gambols of a couple of dolphins, which had followed the ship for some hours. I had neither heard the drop 'nor the alarm, when you may guess my astonishment, as' I looked intently upon the water, at seeing suddenly emerging from the surface under the vessel's counter, poor Jack Palmer. The brig had sailed clean over him. Upon his head rising above the surface, he commenced striking put, and swam clear of the ship's wake, at the same time looking up to me, and calling out, in the most fearless manner, that he was safe, and could swim like a duck. '

The brig was hove-to as speedily as possible ; the jolly-boat, which hung over the stern, was instantly* lowered, and poor Jack Palmer was in a lew ininutes oncgjUioro safe on the de,:k. Ho appeared to bo none the worse for the accident,^ with the exception of a serore

-ducking, at which he only laughed, making indeed;- very light of the whole affair. RfrcklessW threatened danger, his self-pos-session ifeVer 'seemed to forsake him, when •coolness fincl decision were indispensable for srtccess}Jp Short, he was, perhaps, as fine a igjecime^ o'fi a British tar as ever " cracked a tyilciut£Or\tTod a plank on blue water." \OnvMe homeward-bound passage Jack ■EalSr^'unliappil.T displayed a propensity 'which"hitherto he'had been unable to gratify —he was constantly inebriated. Heavy gales .of \yJnd bievv with unabated violence fromrihe peri od-,pj> our leaving St. Thomas's, ts?"""ofir making the (English coast. ~- .-j^sTO-Tvere" entering the chops sof + %]ie (Ihhanel, in the'midwatch^X arißkt extreitffily dark, "aijTd blowings heayy^gfyle of wind,'l was,? ijiYrprlaed by an iinusua.ln.Qiso overhead. Upoi# ruiiujng^vip^the cjtfrripampn-latWeiiXhe firsts object wh'iblr>met Briy eye, was a man hanging by the leg, and swinging frightfully about fromthe=ex*remity«of the^niaiu-yard~jrm—-it was the very unfortunate Jack Palmer. He had g(inerup?with otlier3 to reef the main-sail, and being always the first on the yard, and, as ÜBUttl-mov^antoxicatea,..Jus-loot. u sljp|)ed, Tfdiif flieTopfc rope; and he fell-backwards.- - Inan instant he had been engulphed in the abyss below, but for the courage auti presence of mind of a powerful seaman who waVnext to him on the yard. ITe seized him in the act of fallen headlong, by the-ankle.with -one., hand, holding himself fast, by"tlie ringing with* the other. ' >•■■. •; , . . . . .... A spectacle move appalljcg! than..that which now presented itself can scarcely be imagined. The sea was running mountains, high ; the ship flying about in every direction, the windboisterous, and the darkness dense; all added, to 'tlie^eprific character of the scene. The body'of Kilmer, so uncertainly-sustained, was swinging with fearful oscillation; sometimes. high°in mid-air, at others, seemingly about to; be° entombed in the surgy bosom of the sea ; while his hardy preserver? each moment cried-, for help ere his failing.'strength compelled liiifl/ to quit his hold. Twenty, tars ' had yaiiily, striven to yield assistance, and jjgwr. *i£K anxious gaze awaited the' result. Suddenly the brig gave aTvToleufc Jee-iuren wnleil swmrg~ poor ""Palmer inwards—wow was the fearful moment. * r/ " Let go ! let go !" was shouted by all below, who stood prepared, to. catch their falling comrade. - ' : : *' -.-■•" i ! Jack/ fell inwards, dropping down against the standing rigging. By great good fortune, as by a death grasp he: seized: in- his .descent one of the ratlines.; this weakened the force of his downward flight, although he fell over" with great violence. Twenty ,_hands were ready to receive, him;. his lucky star, once more favoured lain, and he was again rescued fi'sm an apparently-certain death. On the fo'lowing day the brig was safely anchored in Falmouth harbour; and the day afier, Palmer, with others, obtained permission to go on shore (he belonged to Falmouth), but" when the rest returned he.was missing. The first shore-boat which came off the succeeding morning brought the intelligence that om- absent shipmate was no more I The circumstances were briefly the following. He had been in love with a Cornish girl, to whom he was betrothed, and they were to hare been married on his return from the voyage which had proved so perilous to his life. The news of the wreck of his vessel,-and the supposed loss of all the crew soou leached the ears of his intended bride, who after the first extravagance of-her grief was over, solaced herself by eventually marrying another, and the rival of poor Jack!. The"ceremony had only been performed on the day preceding the; landing of Palmer to claim her as.his bride. Poof fellow ! he had a noble spirit, a .warm, and generous heart. A rumour of the truth soon reached him, but at first he would not—-. could not believe that his beloved Maria had proved so false. Alas! he was compelled 1o be convinced, and then he stood for a few moments still as a statue, his eyes wildly fixed, his countenance pale as death, and hi» dauntless breast heaving beneath the pressure of hope-less grief. Ke saw not—he heard not— he spoke not; deaf to all the soothing*: which were offered to allay his woe, he stood mute, motionless, and absorbed. .'■- ' •■'".'■. At length he seemed to rally, and calmly issued from the. public-house where first he ascertained the truth, he was seen to cross somo fields, but was coon out of sight. With a sturdy framo, but with a broken heart, he had entered an old rotiredbai-n, where he had remained for some hours unsuspected and undiscovered. My heart bleeds to relate the root: the trophy of Maria's love—the witness of her insincerity—a silk-handkerchief,'had been used by Palmer for a purpose which neither the giver nor receiver, had:forseen. He was found oold, stiff, aud lifeless. Poor Jack Palmer had strangled himself \ '-'■'"■ '"' --

The "Daughter of the Begiment" was beautifully impersonated last night by Miss Hose Evans, at the JPrince of Wales TheaJ^e. There was a good 'house. To-night? " Macbeth" will be placed on the stage.