Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-07-30
and the ship, steaming at her best

more leeway than headway. Drawing
too much water to clear the edge of
the reefs, we struck two hundred
yards from the beach.
On this shelving reef, the ship listed
to lecward and began to settle. The
seas swept over her in torrents. Iu
twenty minutes she had filled with
water. The waves bl Jke many feet
above the main deck, and two hundred
and twenty men rushed for safety into
the rigging
The old ship swayed and groaned in
every timber as the waves rushed
madly against her and rushed below.
Ladders, hammocks, chests, hand
spikes, spars and rigging hoated off to
join the general wreckage.
On shore the brave natives and the
officers from the Nipsio patrolled the
beach in sight of their comrades cling
ing to the sinking Vsndalia. They
tried again and again to launch boat
in the vain hope of getting line to
the ship; but no boat could live in such
sea.
As we clung to the rigging and
covered in the top, and gazed over the
stormy scene, we saw nothing to en-
courage or cheer us. The wind
showed no sign of abating; the sea
gave no promise of mercy. There
was no hope of succor. Still many OF
the officers and crew looked cheerful,
but the cheerfulness was forced and
only indicated the spirit that will not
cover before any fate.
As the afternoon wore slowly away
the loss of strength began to tell on
the men in the rigging. One by one
the faiat and weak began to drop off
into the sea, some wrenched from the
shrouds and stays by the angry waves,
some swept from the deck while at
tempting to change their positions.
Others, unaware of the treacherous
undercurrent and overestimating their
skill and strength, made efforts to
swim to the Nipsic close by, or the
beach, a short distance beyond. Some
of these sank beneath our eyes. Others
would battle long, only to be finally
caught by the undertow and carried
out to sea; but few of all reached
shore.
Our captain, faint from wound on
the head aud unable to reach the rig
ging, stood on the poop deck clinging
TO the iron rail. By his side stood Il
marine ,.'ho had not left his captain
since eli at o'clock in the morning. 1t
was touching indeed to see the mans
devotion as the waves broke over the
two.
An officer high in rank stood on the
mizzen rigging, sa " them, and realized
their danger. He jumped to the deck
and made for the captain s side.
He missed his goal, was struck by
monster wave, and swept headong
down through the cabin skylight into
the surging, foaming pool that flooded
the cabin.
Presently, as by miracle, he rose
from the watery tomb, regained the
deck and struggled to the rigging
again. Then he turned and saw that
the captain and his faithful marine had
been swept off by the selfsame wave
which had struck him down.
Now this marine was but one of
many humble men whom l saw freely
venturing and frequently giving up
their lives to save injured officers or
Weakened comrades in that dreadful,
heroic day.
Helpless men floated amid the wreck
age. Every one on board was drenched
aud cold. Not bite of food had
passed our lips for twenty-four hours,
and the strongest of the crew needed
more than excitement to sustain them.
Many of them were almost naked.
The situation became desperate as
, night began to settle down, and one by
one we were dropping off into the
waves or being washed away, some
reaching shore on piece of wreck.
age. but many going out to sea with
the swift and treacherous nndertow.
A quiet young seaman named Ham.
mar unrove the signal halyards. Iu
one end he made bowline which he
placed over his body. Leaving the
other end free and on the ships deck
he plunged into the raging sea. He
was never seen after he struck the
water. The current caught him an(
sucked him under.
No tomb or headstone marks the
F.. sailors grave, no epitaph tells how he
, died; but memory of him will Away:
live in the hearts of those for whom ht
died.
Another sailos, Johnson, equally
, brave and more fortunate, made the
same effort. He nrver reached the
Nipsic, but miraculously reached the
. shore.
A third man, a brawny fireman
after studying the currents carefully
threw off the few remaining stitches
: of clothing which he wore, leapet
= boldly overheard and struck ou
v bravely for the Nipsic.
4 A shout went up as he reached her
t and drew himself on board; but h
o carried no rope from the Vandalia
h 80 his herculean efforts availed u
c nothing.
Still we clung on, one hundred ant
n fifty of us, faint and weary, awaiting
q our end as the darkness settled arount
y us.
! But God had willed that we b.
t spared. About half past seven in tn
Il evening we saw the dim flicker o
i lights to windward and gradual
n drawing nearer.
!, A few minutes later a dark, heav
e mass brought up on our windwar'
e side with crash. 1t was the Trenton
: and what remained of the Vandalia'
s crew swung themselves quickly OF
y board Of her.
Ere the last man of us had left til
g Vandalia's slackened rigging, TIL
p main aud mizzon masts of our ono
+, gallant ship toppled into the sea, com
1 pleting her destruction. All that re
. mained of her was sunken hulk
e over which still tloated the Stars an
C Stripes.