The dreams of Mrs Briton of
Grahamstown, Thames, during the early hours of Monday 4 January 1875, were
wretched with visions of the bodies of her family being eaten by fish. As she surfaced from slumber, they left her with a
sense of foreboding which she tried to dismiss.
Five months earlier, the family of Mrs
Briton, the Whyte’s, from Renfrew, Scotland, arrived at the New Zealand
Emigration Depot at Blackwall on the Thames, London. The place was thronged with men, women and
children from all over Great Britain – mostly farm labourers and domestic
servants, referred to as the ‘agricultural poor’, with high hopes of a fresh
start in New Zealand. Some applicants
were provided with free passages, others were assisted emigrants. A predominately
male population in New Zealand meant young Irish and Scots women were urged to
emigrate.
The Whyte’s long railway journey had
passed by bleak stations, the grim conditions not helped by the fact
that many of the passengers were still dressed in farm clothes dirty with
mud. Once through the Blackwall terminus
they blinked at the hectic scene before them – the curve of a river busy with
barges and boats, back dropped by large ships sliding slowly by.
Among the feelings of hope and expectation, a flicker of fear was felt by some. Sea voyages were dangerous. Bad weather, collision, flawed navigation or the most dreaded - fire - were common. Wooden sailing vessels, combined with their often flammable cargo and primitive fire fighting equipment were a recipe for disaster.
Among the feelings of hope and expectation, a flicker of fear was felt by some. Sea voyages were dangerous. Bad weather, collision, flawed navigation or the most dreaded - fire - were common. Wooden sailing vessels, combined with their often flammable cargo and primitive fire fighting equipment were a recipe for disaster.
The Whyte’s, a family of eight,
including two small children, were assisted emigrants on their way to
Grahamstown, Thames. They would be
sailing on the Cospatrick, a two decked, three masted sailing ship constructed
of teak, built 18 years before.
While the Cospatrick was readied for the voyage the family, along with hundreds of other emigrants, were housed at the Blackwall Immigration Depot located on the East India Docks. Once a hotel, the depot now provided a safe and secure environment for the travellers in unfamiliar surroundings.
Housed and fed by the NZ government many emigrants became healthier eating food superior to that which they were used to. They were berthed in bunks and family dormitories in conditions similar to the overcrowding they would experience on the voyage out. Prior to sailing they were inspected by the ship's surgeons – any signs of infectious disease cancelled out their passage.
The Cospatrick
The Graphic 9 January1875
Public Domain
|
While the Cospatrick was readied for the voyage the family, along with hundreds of other emigrants, were housed at the Blackwall Immigration Depot located on the East India Docks. Once a hotel, the depot now provided a safe and secure environment for the travellers in unfamiliar surroundings.
Housed and fed by the NZ government many emigrants became healthier eating food superior to that which they were used to. They were berthed in bunks and family dormitories in conditions similar to the overcrowding they would experience on the voyage out. Prior to sailing they were inspected by the ship's surgeons – any signs of infectious disease cancelled out their passage.
While the Whyte family waited, the Cospatrick moored at the West India Export Dock was
loaded with her ‘colonial cargo’ - agricultural implements, haberdashery,
medical supplies, crockery, furniture, tools, books, clothing and children’s
toys. Also brought on board were 257
tons of railway iron, large volumes of spirits, wine and beer, and quantities
of varnish, turpentine, pitch and vegetable oil.
Carpenters, in a flurry of activity, converted the ‘tween decks into emigrant accommodation. Ventilation was improved, bunks, seats and tables added. Kitchen and privies were built as well as a small hospital area. The alterations were made of inexpensive soft pinewood.
Carpenters, in a flurry of activity, converted the ‘tween decks into emigrant accommodation. Ventilation was improved, bunks, seats and tables added. Kitchen and privies were built as well as a small hospital area. The alterations were made of inexpensive soft pinewood.
For the non-stop passage to Auckland
via the Cape of Good Hope adequate provisions were bought in. The Cospatrick’s water tanks were too small
for the journey so a distillation plant was mounted on the upper deck. Six boats, the minimum permissible for a
vessel of Cospatrick’s tonnage, were on board.
A Downtown fire pump in a fixed mounting was located on the forecastle and a portable Downton unit with 125 ft of hose was also ordered, doubling the Cospatrick’s’ fire fighting capacity. There were also 14 fire buckets although they were known to float instead of fill when dropped in the sea.
A Downtown fire pump in a fixed mounting was located on the forecastle and a portable Downton unit with 125 ft of hose was also ordered, doubling the Cospatrick’s’ fire fighting capacity. There were also 14 fire buckets although they were known to float instead of fill when dropped in the sea.
On 8 September the Cospatrick cleared
customs on the East India docks. A crew
of 44 was under the command of 39 year old Captain Alexander Elmslie. The next day, taking the first steps
towards their future, the Whyte’s embarked from Brunswick wharf. On board were 479 people – 178 men, 125
women, 126 children (including 16 infants).
Passengers were segregated and the Whyte family were from then on separated. Single men were berthed in the forward section, families amidships and single women aft. Children aged 12 and over were housed separately from parents and younger siblings, 12 being the age at which adulthood was considered to have been reached.
Passengers were segregated and the Whyte family were from then on separated. Single men were berthed in the forward section, families amidships and single women aft. Children aged 12 and over were housed separately from parents and younger siblings, 12 being the age at which adulthood was considered to have been reached.
An Emigration Officer inspected the
Cospatrick the following day, checking that the safety equipment and cargo
complied with regulations. A visit was
also paid by a Chaplin who handed out school books and spiritually soothing bibles.
There was uneasiness about this voyage though. Some passengers suddenly refused to sail and left with their luggage, a seaman inexplicably didn’t show and the wife of the Cospatrick’s second mate, Henry MacDonald, while seeing him off, sensed an “impending evil.”
There was uneasiness about this voyage though. Some passengers suddenly refused to sail and left with their luggage, a seaman inexplicably didn’t show and the wife of the Cospatrick’s second mate, Henry MacDonald, while seeing him off, sensed an “impending evil.”
On the last flood tide of 11 September,
1874, at 5am the Cospatrick sailed from Gravesend. Many miles, weeks and months away in
Grahamstown, Thames, Mrs Briton read and re-read her letter. Her family - mother, two sisters, three
brothers, a niece and a nephew – were coming at last.
On 14 September the Cospatrick headed
into the wild Atlantic and the emigrants adjusted to ship board life. From the groups of emigrant’s cleaners,
watchmen, constables, a school master, a nurse and cook’s assistant were
appointed. The emigrants spent most of
their time helping the cooks or cleaning the living quarters.
Twice a week clothes were washed in salt water and slung across rigging to dry. At all times segregation by gender was strictly maintained. Smoking and naked lights were forbidden below decks. Despite the necessary discipline there were small pleasures - Divine Service was read on Sunday’s, card playing was common and King Neptune visited when the equator was crossed. The Cospatrick’s emigrants were, for the most part, obedient.
Twice a week clothes were washed in salt water and slung across rigging to dry. At all times segregation by gender was strictly maintained. Smoking and naked lights were forbidden below decks. Despite the necessary discipline there were small pleasures - Divine Service was read on Sunday’s, card playing was common and King Neptune visited when the equator was crossed. The Cospatrick’s emigrants were, for the most part, obedient.
The Cospatrick became
becalmed in the tropics and cleanliness suffered. Gastro intestinal complaints swept the ship
killing eight infants. On 28 October
winds finally rose and for the next 20 days the ship averaged 150 miles a day
towards the Cape of Good Hope. During
this time a child was born and Cospatrick sailed on, making steady progress.
Three months later a ship arrived at Auckland from London. Mrs Briton travelled by steamer from Thames to Auckland in high expectations of meeting her family. But it was the barque Glenlora which had arrived on 5 January. She had left London 15 days after the Cospatrick, her passage having taken 101 days. Ominously there was no sign of the Cospatrick.
Mrs Briton became very anxious and
nervous about the long delay and suffered the dream that impressed itself upon
her that the bodies of her family had all been eaten by fish. She began frequently expressing her fears
that the vessel was lost. Other concerned Thames residents who had relatives
aboard included Messers Rawden, Baker and Townsend.When the news finally filtered through,
it was unbearable.
On 18 November, around 12.45am, the
night time card players in Cospatrick’s single men’s compartment had noticed
smoke curling through a ventilation grill.
Panicked, they rushed to the upper deck but despite frantic efforts to
put out the fire, flames erupted from the shaft.
Henry MacDonald, second mate, whose wife had sensed impending evil, was startled from a state of semi sleep by cries of “Fire!” When he reached the forecastle head MacDonald was horrified by the sight of smoke streaming from the forescuttle.
Henry MacDonald, second mate, whose wife had sensed impending evil, was startled from a state of semi sleep by cries of “Fire!” When he reached the forecastle head MacDonald was horrified by the sight of smoke streaming from the forescuttle.
The captain kept the ship before the
wind so that the flames were driven forward rather than rushing down the length
of the ship. Signal rockets and fog gun
ammunition were thrown overboard but the speed of the fire was
extraordinary.
Within 15 minutes Cospatrick’s entire forward section was alight. Crude pine wood furniture, wood shaving mattress filling, stores of highly flammable pitch and Stockholm tar, turpentine, varnish, paraffin and linseed oil, about 30 tons of coal and 6000 gallons of spirits became a lethal mix. The fierce heat forced seamen to abandon the fixed Downton fire pump.
To stop the fire taking hold in the foremast rigging, the foresail above the hatch was hauled up. This spelled the end for the vessel and her passengers. Cospatrick swung leeward and turned bow to the wind, her steerage lost. A deadly cloud of smoke and embers blew the whole length of the upper deck towards those on the poop.
Within 15 minutes Cospatrick’s entire forward section was alight. Crude pine wood furniture, wood shaving mattress filling, stores of highly flammable pitch and Stockholm tar, turpentine, varnish, paraffin and linseed oil, about 30 tons of coal and 6000 gallons of spirits became a lethal mix. The fierce heat forced seamen to abandon the fixed Downton fire pump.
To stop the fire taking hold in the foremast rigging, the foresail above the hatch was hauled up. This spelled the end for the vessel and her passengers. Cospatrick swung leeward and turned bow to the wind, her steerage lost. A deadly cloud of smoke and embers blew the whole length of the upper deck towards those on the poop.
The burning of the Cospatrick off the Cape of Good Hope, 1874
Wood engraving by Samuel Calvert, 1828 - 1913
Illustrated New Zealand Herald.. Ref: PUBL-0047-1875-09. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/22817867
The terrified emigrants grabbed
whatever came to hand - fire buckets, mess tins, tubs and dishes - but the height of the bulwarks made it
practically impossible to fill them. A
chain bucket brigade proved hopeless and was hampered by smothering smoke. The portable Downton fire pump was inadequate -
the inlet hose hardly reached the surface of the sea. The fire, fueled by cargo and driven by the
headwind, consumed the ship.
Captain Elmslie, preoccupied by the
danger to his wife and child, wouldn’t put the surviving boats over the side
but ordered that efforts to quell the fire be redoubled.
Hope, like the vessel, was relentlessly destroyed by the fire. Segregated families searched desperately for each other and some emigrants, realising what was to happen, surrendered silently. An ill chief steward retired to his cabin. A mother, having given birth, remained below with her husband and four children.
Hospital patients were brought up and
given water. Women and children became
dreadfully anguished. Second Mate Henry
MacDonald had women clinging to him, begging him to save them, deafened by
their awful screams.
Two of the boats had been destroyed and a rush was made for the starboard boat. The principle of women and children first was completely ignored. As the starboard boat was lowered the stern fell into the sea, swamping the boat and capsizing it. Most of the 80 occupants were tossed out.
Sheer panic followed. Chicken coops, lifebuoys and anything that
would float were thrown overboard by those on the Cospatrick’s decks. Many of
the women were kept afloat by air trapped in their petticoats until they were
saturated and became death traps. The
launch of a heavy longboat failed when it caught alight; the smaller captain’s
gig was flooded and floated away empty.
Almost everyone in the water drowned.
Only the port lifeboat, with a capacity
to hold just 30 people, remained. It was
practically barricaded as knives were drawn and sailors were admitted to the
boat but male passengers weren’t.
Suddenly the foremast slammed into the
sea in a cascade of sparks and debris.
Flames spewed from the after hatch.
Captain Elmslie gave his final command “Let every man look after
himself.”
Distraught emigrants rushed for the port lifeboat but it was lowered away, leaving behind 350 people. Appalling cries filled the air; emigrants either hurled themselves into the boat or fell in. The main mast hit the poop killing those who huddled under it. Parents threw their children overboard and jumped in after them. Many emigrants drowned straight away although others survived a few more hours by clinging to floating spars.
Half an hour after the port lifeboat
had got away 40 tons of spirits ignited and a billowing mass of blazing vapour
roared over the poop. The mizzen mast
went overboard and the stern exploded.
It was 3am and the ship carrying the
hopes and dreams of hundreds of emigrants was nothing more than a fiery wreck.
The port lifeboat stayed by the burning
ship for the rest of the night. It was
packed with 35 people, including 14 crew members, one of which was second mate
Henry MacDonald. Half a sheep's carcass
was thrown out to make way for one more person.
They anticipated an early rescue, counting on the beacon of the pall of
smoke and blaze from the fire.
The starboard life boat, now the correct way up after phenomenal efforts to right it, drifted into view about noon. It contained 29 men and boys. A shuffle of crew and passengers still left both boats badly overloaded.
Cospatrick finally sank 40 hours after the start of the fire, taking with it the chance that a passing vessel would find the survivors. They kept the boats together and headed for the Cape of Good Hope. But they had no provisions, only one gallon of water and basic equipment was lost. The survivors were in great danger – they were exhausted, wet, cold, some naked.
Over the next two days a bitter wind from the south blew, they couldn’t sleep and were saturated by sea spray. They began to deteriorate, were driven to distraction by thirst and some began to drink sea water. The evening of 21 November was stormy and both boats need constant bailing. By dawn only one boat was left – the other was never heard of again.
The starboard life boat, now the correct way up after phenomenal efforts to right it, drifted into view about noon. It contained 29 men and boys. A shuffle of crew and passengers still left both boats badly overloaded.
Cospatrick finally sank 40 hours after the start of the fire, taking with it the chance that a passing vessel would find the survivors. They kept the boats together and headed for the Cape of Good Hope. But they had no provisions, only one gallon of water and basic equipment was lost. The survivors were in great danger – they were exhausted, wet, cold, some naked.
Over the next two days a bitter wind from the south blew, they couldn’t sleep and were saturated by sea spray. They began to deteriorate, were driven to distraction by thirst and some began to drink sea water. The evening of 21 November was stormy and both boats need constant bailing. By dawn only one boat was left – the other was never heard of again.
Of the passengers in the remaining boat one fell overboard. Others drank
seawater leaving them incoherent and delirious.
They tried to jump out before succumbing to a lethal stupor. Only five were left alive at the
end of ten terrible days. Starvation led
to the unthinkable. The survivors began eating the corpses.
They were rescued on 27 November by the British Sceptre. It was clear to the rescuers that the skeletal survivors had been forced to resort to cannibalism.
Shortly after rescue two survivors died. Of the Cospatrick’s 479 passengers and crew only three survived - Henry MacDonald, aged 29, second mate, Edward Cotter, ordinary seaman, aged 17 and Thomas Lewis, Quartermaster, aged 46.
On Christmas Day, about 10pm, a telegram reached Shaw Saville’s London office, but the reports of Cospatrick’s loss took days to reach the newspapers due to the festive celebrations. Bewilderment and disbelief met the headlines of 29 December when the details of the disaster became known. The rural villages were badly affected – many of the immigrants were from the country.
On 11 January the news reached Auckland and the result was as harrowing as it had been in England. Twenty emigrant’s had been nominated by friends or relatives in New Zealand.
The Auckland Star headlines were
ghastly- “Four hundred and 57 lives reported lost – Only three men saved –
Fearful scenes – Hundreds throw themselves overboard - Boat picked up with
survivors – Many died raving mad.”
The impact on the community of Thames was extreme. Several families had relations on board coming out under the nominated immigrant system. The Thames Advertiser lamented "Never in these columns have we had to announce a more awful calamity than we have had to narrate our readers this day ...” For the families connected with passengers widespread sympathy was felt. For those who had lost relatives “it is a shock that will not be forgotten during life.” Mr Baker of Brown Street lost a sister and nephew. Mrs Briton had lost most of her family and had scarcely a relation left. There was great grief and much mourning at Thames.
But then, on Tuesday 12 January, when a
list of persons who did not sail was published, foremost on the list were the
Whyte family. Mrs Briton grasped a thin thread of hope. It seemed her relatives had not sailed,
although they had written to her that they were on the point of going. In
order to make doubly sure, a friend of Mrs Briton’s telegraphed to Wellington
for definite information and received a conflicting reply that the family of
Whyte nominated at the Thames, had sailed on the Cospatrick.
The
next day, in the hope that the Telegraph Association had some definite
information, Mrs Briton’s friend telegraphed again –“Send particulars regarding
White family, who, by your telegram last night, appear not to have sailed in
the Cospatrick. Reply immediately
stating how particulars ascertained.” A
confusing reply came back - “As far as known by Immigration department here,
the Whyte family did not sail.”
Did they or didn't they? Thames Star 12 January 1875 |
The Thames Advertiser then came to the aid of
Mrs Briton, immediately telegraphing the Press Association in Wellington,
asking for an explanation of the telegram of Tuesday night – and received a
reply to the effect that “the heads of the Immigration Office here state the
White (sic) family did sail on the Cospatrick.” The Thames Advertiser telegrammed back to
clarify and received the reply “I fear Tuesday telegram was incorrect. McCarthy (the manager) was out of town, I
cannot find anyone who knows anything about it . . .”
For Mrs Briton the anguish caused by
this bumbling can only be imagined. The
Thames Advertiser called it a case of gross carelessness which had all the
appearance of a disgraceful hoax and a state of affairs which was highly
discreditable to the NZ Press Telegraph Association. The unpardonable stupid blundering of the Press
Association added much to families’ grief.
A final definite reply was received –
“McCarthy (the manager) got the information from the Post. It was incorrect. The Whyte family did sail. The official list is correct.”
Newspapers were scathing in their
opinion of the Press Association agent in Wellington, blaming the effects of
the New Year holidays on those who supplied very untrustworthy
information. McCarthy, the manager,
disappeared on holiday and was berated for having committed a grievous error in reference to the Cospatrick passenger list before he left for the
country. “We hope he will resume his
duties refreshed and invigorated and that the agency will then exhibit signs of
improvement,” spat the Thames Advertiser.
For Mrs Briton all hope was gone. She had clung to the thought that her family had delayed their departure and
perhaps sailed on the Warwick or Diharee instead. There was still a faint expectation that the
missing boat with survivors would be discovered.
Auckland grieved for weeks and it was
feared that the event would seriously interfere with assisted or nominated
immigration.
Towards the end of January Mr James
Jeffry, fruiterer, Brown Street, Thames, was pronounced to be of unsound mind
by two medical men and committed to the Lunatic Asylum. He had been acting eccentrically for
days. The immediate cause was not
known. His business affairs were free
from embarrassment and he was not without money. It was said that he sustained some domestic
affliction by the loss of the Cospatrick.
On 3 February, in England, the Board of
Trade inquiry into loss of Cospatrick grappled with the lack of physical evidence
of the wreck and survivor’s scanty testimony. Blame was laid at the feet of
emigrants or sailors for plundering cargo and dropping a match or candle. The volatility of “colonial cargoes” was
ignored. Universal shock greeted this
finding. Emigration to New Zealand
plummeted.
On 1 April the Auckland Star was given
a copy of the Glasgow Herald. which arrived by San Francisco mail, containing
the startling news that two more Cospatrick survivors were aboard a ship which
arrived in the West India Docks on February 8.
The story has no foundation whatever -– beyond the fact that a man named
Java, who was suffering from dysentery, was in hospital with McDonald, Lewis
and Cotter. A shouted message from
Captain to pilot had been misunderstood.
The promise of a new life - Grahamstown, Thames in the early 1870s.
Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections NZG-19040430-32-2
**********************************************************************************************************
The sinking of the Cospatrick is considered New Zealand’s worst civil disaster.
It is unknown if any of the Whyte family made it into one of the lifeboats.
It is unknown if any of the Whyte family made it into one of the lifeboats.
Of six emigrants in one life boat, three or four were
women, whose names are not known.
I believe Mrs Briton was married to John Briton a
well-known Thames contractor/engineer who erected mining batteries and
machinery at the Thames to great praise.
He would have had the finances and been able to offer employment to his
wife’s family members
Various spellings of names in reports were White –
Whyte - Wayte - Britten, Briten, Briton.
Britan.
“The lack of lifeboats and the inability to launch them successfully at sea caused public outrage, but little was done until after the loss of the Titanic in 1912” - Wikipedia
Cospatrick
Assisted
Emigrants Single Women
Mary Whyte (or Wayte) 58 Renfrew Housekeeper
Jeanie (Jane) Whyte (or Wayte) 32 Renfrew Cook
Assisted
Emigrants Single Men
Robert S Whyte (or Wayte) 25 Renfrew Engineer
Andrew Whyte (or Wayte) 19 Renfrew Joiner
Assisted
Emigrant Families
William Whyte 27 Renfrew Farm Labourer
Isabella Whyte 27 Renfrew
William Whyte 2 years Renfrew
Elizabeth Whyte 8 months Renfrew
SOURCES
Women and children Last – the Burning
of the Emigrant ship Cospatrick by Charles R Clark - Otago University Press
Papers Past
Wikipedia - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cospatrick_(ship)
© Meghan Hawkes 2019
Please acknowledge and credit this blog with a source link if
using any material from it. Thank you.
Sitting here tensed and uneasy at this information, so well written that one could place themselves among the melee, and feel the horror...
ReplyDeleteThese events hold a fascination despite their harrowing results... the writers descriptions and recountings cast a realness and all encompassing feeling of being a part of the events, so much so that sympathies are directed to those that the losses effected the most, Families and nominated friends etc.even though even those people are long gone... Thanks to Megan Hawkes again for her astounding ability to place the reader right there, at the firing line so to speak.... Baz C, Waihi.