THE CALAMITOUS FATE OF THE NORTHFLEET.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume I, Issue 45, 19 April 1873, Page 3

THE CALAMITOUS FATE OF THE NORTHFLEET.

J HE following account by one of the survivors of this ill-fated vessel will be read with deep but painful interest:— The ship we left down here off Dungeness with nothing but the masts standing up out of the water was named the Northfleet. She was 895 tons burden, and was owned by Mr. I’atton of London. She sailed from London Docks, bound to Hobart Town, with a general cargo, and, with the crew, 412 souls on board, all told. She was commmanded by Captain Knowles, a fine seaman, who didn’t look more than thirty years of age, and had been married only six weeks ago. lie brought his wife with him on this voyage—a pretty little thing, quite a girl in her ways. Captain Knowles acted with the utmost gallantry and decision under circumstances which required exceptional coolness and bravery. He is amongst the lost, having remained upon the poop to the last giving directions with a view to saving the lives of the passengers, and finally going down with the ship. The Northfleet w-as lying at anchor between Folkestone and Dungeness in about twelve fathoms of water, about half-past ten o’clock and it is affirmed by the members of the crew that she was exhibiting the usual lights. Ihe cause of her being at anchor was the prevailing head winds. The usual watch was set, but the majority of the crew and the passengers were, as a matter of course, in their berths. The weather was squally, with occasional showers of rain. Suddenly a fearful cry was raised on deck that a steamer was upon us, and this was followed immediately by a violent collision. Most of the passengers were awakened by the shock, and a fearful panic ensued. Captain Knowles was on deck immediately, and acted with a calmness, promptitude, and decision that will cover his memory with honor. It was found that the steamer had cut the Northfleet asunder amidships, and, notwithstanding the cries of alarm that were raised on board the immigrant ship, she passed on her way, not offering to render the slightest assistance. Captain Knowles immediately ordered rockets to be sent up, and other signals of distress raised, and in the meantime directed the boats to be launched, giving imperative orders that the safety of the women and children should be first secured. There was a disposition to set these orders at defiance, and upon some of the crew crowding to the davits with a view of effecting their own safety, he drew a revolver, and declared he would shoot the first man who attempted to save himself before the women were cared for. Most of the crew seemed to understand that the captain was not to be trifled with, but one refused to obey the order, and the captain discharged the revolver ; the bullet entered the man’s leg, just above the knee. Meantime the pumps were set to work, but with little or no effect, the water pouring in in a volume. The scene was heartrending. Many of the passengers were in their nightdresses ; others had upon them only such scant}' clothing as they could lay their hands upon on quitting their berths. Children were screaming for their parents, and parents searchin vain for their children, while husbands and wives were hopelessly separated, the horror being increased by the darkness of the night. By this time the City of London steam-tug had reached the spot, having perceived the signals of distress, and succeeded in rescuing nearly the whole of the occupants of the boat, as well as several others of the passengers and crew, the number saved by the tug being thirty-four. The ship went down in about three-quarters of an hour after she was struck, the captain remaining at his post, and giving such orders as the circumstances required till the ship sank. One of the survivors was standing elose to him when she went down, but he managed to lay old of some floating substance and was borne to the surface. The captain, however, was not again seen ; the pilot and ten others had taken to the mizen-top-mast, from which they were finally rescued.” The talcs of individual distress and suffering told by the survivors are heartrending. Many men are bewailing the loss of wives and families, and women and children the loss of husbands and fathers. Among the passengers brought by the tug was a little girl, about ten years of age, whom nobody knew. She says that her father put her in the boat, and told her he was going to find her mother; he never returned* and the poor child drifted away from the sinking ship on orphan. This is but one of the many afflicting tales which have excited in the breast of everv r listener the ut most commiseration. The wife of the captain has been received by the Bev. W. Yate, the founder of the Sailors’ Home, who displays the utmost anxiety for the welfare of the surviving passengers and crew.