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Epke Alberts Roorda was born on July 6, 1798 in Rinsumageest, Dantumadeel. He was the son of Albert Egberts van den Akker and Henke Izaaks Roorda. Froukje Wiegers van der Lune was born on September 7, 1800 at Hallum, Ferwerderadeel; she was the daughter of Wieger Pieters van der Lune and Antje Gerrits Kooi. The couple married on May 30, 1822 in Ferwerd, Ferwerderadeel and begot 11 children of which 2 died young. Antje Epkes Roorda (May 13, 1823-June 6, 1823) and Izaäk Epkes Roorda (November 17, 1828-July 23, 1831) were born and died in Dantumawoude.
Epke was a painter and glassmaker and later kept a boarding house. The family left Dantumawoude to go to Pella in America in 1857 with 4 children: Hendrik, Gerrit, Hinke and Ruurd. Three children had preceded them: Wieger and Anne in April 1855 and Izaak in 1853 or 1854. According to the book History of Pella the couple took various bushes and plants with them to America including plum trees, rhubarb and roses. They were fervent garden lovers aside from their regular occupations. In America Epke resumed his old job of painting, just like his son Wieger, and in his spare time he painted landscapes on glass. The other sons sought their luck in farming.
Two children remained in the Netherlands. Albert Epkes Roorda (January 17, 1825, Dantumawoude-March 16, 1902, Veenklooster, Kollumerland). On June 27, 1861 he married in Tietjerksteradeel Doetje Hendriks Brouwer, daughter of Hendrik Brouwer and Vroukje Popkes Vriesema. She was born on May 9, 1831 in Bergum, Tietjerksteradeel and died on March 6, 1916 in Kollum, Kollumerland.. They had 5 children: Froukje, Epke, Hendrika, Antje and Saakje.
Antje Epkes Roorda was born on December 9, 1836 in Dantumawoude. She married Hessel Buisma, son of Pieter Hendriks Buisma and Yke Gerbens Joustra, on February 28, 1861 in the municipality of Kollumerland. Hessel was born on August 25, 1824 at Langweer, Doniawerstal. The couple had 3 children: Yke, Pieter and Anne. Hessel was a school principal and died on December 14, 1914 in the municipality of Gaasterland. Antje died a few years earlier on December 18, 1911 in Kollum, Kollumerland.
In article 7 of Greetings from America we already mentioned the 3 sons Wieger, Izaäk and Anne who married the 3 Buwalda sisters.
In 1864 Wieger, Izaäk and Anne moved with their families to Oregon. They took the train to New York and from there to Panama. After crossing Panama by train to the west coast they sailed to Oregon where together they started a farm in the neighborhood of Oregon City. They lived together in a large building on their own land. In 1869 they had seen enough of Oregon and returned to Pella, first by ship to San Francisco and then by train to Pella. The railway had now come so far that it went right through the Rocky Mountains. By way of the wilderness and the prairies they arrived at last in cosy Pella where again they started their own farm.
Wieger and his wife Trijntje remained childless, but treated the many children of their siblings as if they were their own.
Hendrik Epkes Roorda was born on April 9, 1839 in Dantumawoude; he died unmarried during the Civil War on August 18, 1862 in Corinth, Alcorn County, Mississippi, where he is buried in the national cemetery.. He served in the 17th Iowa Volunteers, Company H. This is a letter that Henry Roorda wrote to his parents:
Dear parents, brothers and sisters,
Wednesday we arrived at Keokuk, we stopped a night at Liebe's in Eddyville, I think Trijntje and Anne know where that is. We've had a pleasant journey. [The next sentence is unclear, but apparently they went hunting and shot 10 pigs and beheaded a rooster.] At present I am in a good mood but when we came here we were all disheartened, for in our quarters the straw lay thick on the ground, but the last 2 days we've [been] in a hotel, We are presently with 7...[The next sentence is also unclear except for the words: "the old courthouse and we are all in a good mood."]
The 75th regiment has not departed yet but the Mississipi broke open the day before yesterday and they will leave next week. Then we get their quarters. They call us the the bloody graybacks because we have grey coats and theirs are black. We visited their quarters. They ares a 5 story building and each company has its own room. On Thursday we received our clothing which consists of a cap, an overcoat, an under coat, 2 shirts, 2 underpants, 2 pairs of socks, 1 pair of shoes and 2 blankets. We sleep on straw, 2 beside each other and lay 1 blanket on the straw and cover ourselves with 3. I have to close. Forward this letter to Friesland so that it can be read there.
Greetings
Henry Roorda
The American Civil War (1861-1865) is the bloodiest war that has ever been fought on the North American continent and the most important in the history of America. More than 600,000 Americans died in the first modern war in which trenches, machine guns and steel ships were used.
More than 260,000 soldiers are buried in the Arlington National Cemetery, Washington D.C. It is the largest military cemetery in America where some of the Kennedy family, politicians, astronauts and other prominent citizens have been laid to rest.
Son Gerrit Epkes Roorda was born on May 30, 1841 in Marrum, Ferwerderadeel. He married Adrianna D. van de Meer on March 26, 1879 in Orange City. Adrianna van de(r) Meer was born on December 29, 1856 at Pella. Her parents were probably Dutch. Gerrit had a farm near the place Bethel. The couple had 10 children: Cornelia, Epp, Dirk, Henry, Flora, Allie, Annie, Isaac, Hattie and Tena. Gerrit Epkes Roorda died on July 26, 1917 and his wife on June 28, 1929, both in Pella.
Daughter Hinke Epkes Roorda was born on September 14, 1843 in Dantumawoude. Dantumadeel In 1862 she married Adriaan Jans Rietveld in Oskaloosa, Mahaska County, Iowa. Adriaan's parents also came from the Netherlands and also arrived in 1847 in Pella. The family father (John), mother and 8 children were passengers on the ship Catharine Jackson. Adriaan was born on August 29, 1829 in the Netherlands. Adriaan and his wife Hinke ran a farm southwest of Pella near the Des Moines river. The couple had 8 children: Dirkje, Froukje (Flora), John, Hendrik (Henry), Wiggert, Antje (Annie), Jim and Jannigje (Jane). Adriaan Rietveld died on July 14, 1909 and Hinke Epkes Roorda died on December 2, 1921, both in Pella.
The last child was Ruurd, also called John, Epkes Roorda. He was born on May 5, 1846 in Dantumawoude, Dantumadeel. John celebrated his 11th birthday in 1857 aboard ship on the way to America. Ruurd (John) married Adrianna Jane van Maren on October 7, 1868 in Pella . She was the daughter of Maren and Antje van der Linden and was born on September 23, 1849, possibly in Friesland. Ruurd (John) peddled housewares, eggs and vegetables door to door as well as farming in the neighborhood of Durham. Ruurd (John) died on September 4, in Pella and his wife Adrianna died in 1931 probably also in Pella. The couple had 12 children, 10 sons and 2 daughters, named in order: Henry, John, Epp, Wieger, Luke, Anna, Andrew, Albert, Izaak, Anne, Gerrit and Janie.
Epke Alberts Roorda died on December 19, 1884 and Froukje Wiegers van der Lune on April 14, 1879, both in Pella.
We return to Izaäk Epkes Roorda. He is probably the most talked about or the one who experienced the most. In the autumn of 1852 Izaäk [heard] from a number of friends that a Mr. O. Bonnema from Kimswird, Wonselradeel, was planning to go to America. Mr. Bonnema planned to found a new colony and was seeking people to come along. He was seeking respectable, skilled tradesmen. In the beginning of 1853 Izaäk asked his father to write Mr. Bonnema, asking if Izaäk could go along. Izaäk was a good painter and was not unwilling to use his gifts and talents in other ways. Soon they received a reply that Izaäk could come along, but Mr. Bonnema wished to talk with him first about the planned trip; this talk took place in Leeuwarden and there it was decided that Izaäk would come along as a glass cutter and farmhand. It was agreed that Izaäk would show up on the 26th of February in Harlingen. On the 25th Izaäk took leave of his parents and other relatives who did not hide their concern for him. Together with a few brothers they traveled via Leeuwarden to Harlingen. Because of bad weather it was not a speedy trip; snow and ice caused many delays but at last they reached Harlingen. Below is his own story.
It is almost impossible to describe what took place in that harbor. The parting followed and a strange feeling flowed over my body. Leaving my homeland and the expectation of a new world were my lot. At 11 A.M. the ropes were loosened and we set our course for Liverpool. The group from Harlingen consisted of 92 people.
As soon as we sailed out of the harbor we went looking for a reasonable place to rest but all we found was some straw and this was for the women and children; we men were forced to just hold on to something. This uncomfortable situation was made worse by a sudden storm and heavy snowfall, so that the rest that we longed for was not granted us. The captain gave the order to drop anchor and to wait till the storm subsided; we could still see Harlingen harbor. [They were in what was then called the Zuider Zee, which we'd translate as South Sea. Adike was build at the north end of that sea in the 1930s and the shallower parts were poldered. The watery remains are now called the IJsselneer).]
The next morning we continued our journey by way of the "Nieuwe Diep" [New Deep] to the North Sea. We barely had reached the open sea before the next storm assailed us. Constantly we had to guard ourselves against being washed overboard. The ship had been considerably weakened by the two storms and in the half light we were afraid it would sink before the English coast. Fortunately that did not happen and we arrived fairly speedily at Lowestoft. Here our baggage was unloaded and searched and that afternoon we were allowed to leave the ship.
The next morning--it was now February 28--we traveled by train to Liverpool. Now we could happily sit and catch our breath. Mr. Bonnema had bought a blanket for everyone so we could warm ourselves from the cold. From the train we saw many things worth seeing. It was too bad that trip passed so swiftly. Over the hills and through the valleys we saw many factories but could not discover just what they fabricated. We also saw many stone mills [probably grain mills]. The snow had completely disappeared here and we saw cows grazing in the fields. They were smaller than we were used to in Friesland. There was also much hay laying on the fields and that surely remained there until winter definitely set in. We drove through a tunnel beneath a mountain and it was so dark we could no longer see each other. This happened so suddenly that we were not sure just what had happened. Shortly after that we saw a church with 24 towers. Finally we neared Liverpool on March 1, 1853. The rails in Liverpool run above as well as below the roads. When we arrived there, 5 women with their children decided to return to Friesland.
We had hoped to board the Philadelphia the next morning, but unfortunately all passenger places were fully booked so that we saw our trip to the new world disappear in smoke. Shortly after we heard that the next ship to New Orleans would not leave before March 16; it was built to carry passengers and merchandise. Mr. Bonnema made reservations for all of us and signed the contract. The ship, the William & Mary, was controlled by Captain Stinson. Our baggage was laden on wagons and taken to various inns where we could stay. The inn we stayed at was run by friendly Germans and cost 1 guildre and 20 cents a day. Still, our stay in Liverpool was not the greatest; the food and drink were good but all 87 of us had to consume it in 1 room with only 2 tables. We had plenty of time to look through the city and much was new to us. It was terribly busy and there was much traffic on the roads: carts, carriages and wagons with 2 wheels pulled by horses that were directed only by the voices of their drivers. We also saw donkeys who were able to move large amounts of merchandise. We stared our eyes out in various stores where one could buy everything. Fruit and vegetables that we only saw in certain periods of the year, we saw here in abundance, including ew potatoes already on the 4th of March. In one store we saw stuffed animals such as birds, tigers and even a deer.
Liverpool has many beautiful homes built of blue granite and many large warehouses, sometimes 6 or 7 stories high. I was interested in the large harbor and the manner in which it was built. Everyone was very busy and we were told that 13,000 ships, divided over 21 docks, regularly sailed in and out. Every 5 minutes a ship left or entered the harbor.
The inhabitants of Liverpool were quite interested in us. The klompen [wooden shoes] and the gold ear irons of our ladies were drawing cards for many. Everyone was friendly, especially the personnel at the inn.
On March 16, we boarded the ship and on the 24th the anchor was raised and we left Liverpool. Now the Atlantic ocean lay before us. There were 208 passengers aboard, 87 from Friesland. The other passengers came from Ireland, England and Germany. Mr. Bonnema had arranged that we would have a separate area of the ship but unfortunately we had to share it with 12 Germans. In the area beside us were the Irish. Our beds stood at the sides, 2 high, while our suitcases and further baggage served as tables and chairs. The weather outlook was favorable so that we looked for a successful voyage.
On the afternoon of the 25th we could still vaguely see the Irish coast. On the 26th we only saw water and more water. On the 27th the wind turned and the weather worsened. A strong south-wester blew and on the 29th a storm broke out. Our baggage was tossed by the merciless storm from one side to the other; many became seasick until on the 30th the storm subsided. The strong wind still caused much delay and because of that we had only sailed a short distance. Among us the first children died and great was our sorrow while among the Irish several children were born.
On April 12th we were told that whales had been sighted. We all flew to the foremost deck to get a glimpse of them and to make the time a little more pleasurable we counted 14 whales. They swam so close to the ship that we could almost touch them. Later in the month of April the weather turned more pleasurable; it became so warm that a number of passengers decided to swim for a while in the sea. On the 24th of April a flying fish was found on the deck. Around this time we neared the American coast. We were exhilarated with the gorgeous sunset. The beautiful colors of the setting sun were indescribable. [Izaäk described it in this manner: "Never had my eyes seen anything so beautiful."]
Land was sighted on May 31. We were but a stone's throw from the coast, but the ship was in danger because of the coral reefs along the coast. We passed Stirrup Key and the next day a north wind ensured that we would soon pass the Bahama islands. While I was talking with other passengers about our imminent arrival in America, we heard an enormous drone. The ship stopped and lay momentarily still. After which 2 enormous waves lifted the afterdeck on high and deposited the ship on a rock. The fear of death overcame us. In our excitement we sped to the lower part of the ship, then back to the higher part through the screaming, packed together mass of humanity. A boat hung from the side of the ship and at once a number of women and children went to sit in it. Through their weight the ropes meant to lower them into the sea almost broke and it became a dangerous situation. It was with much difficulty that they were prevented from landing in the water but were hauled on board again.
Soon everyone was busy pumping water out of the ship, and everyone was busy seeking their own safety. The circumstances aboard ship were heart rending. Crying and screaming surrounded us. A number of passengers knelt on the deck and prayed to God for help, others climbed the masts, and still others cursed. It was an indescribable situation. The deck was crammed with people and we heard loud bangs from the lower part of the ship. We were afraid that part of the ship would sink and hastened to make the ship as light as possible so that it would float a little longer. The ship moved back and forth so that we were afraid it would keel over. There was nothing aboard to send a distress signal, so we could not expect any help, and the aids [flares?] that we should use to do so at night could not be found. The only thing that we found as night descended was ourselves while the hope of being saved had shrunk to almost nothing.
Meanwhile we kept pumping till our hands hurt. It was not an easy task because the ship swerved and swung. The water we had to pump away came from the inside of the ship because it had a dark brown color. Waves regularly came over the ship's rails so that we stood to our knees in water. Hope and courage were the ingredients that gave us strength. At last a new morning dawned which gave us a little peace. We were heartened when the captain told us he would not leave the ship until everyone was safe. By the light of dawn we could see land in the distance. We hoped that a ship would notice our hopeless situation and that soon an operation would commence to save us.
The ship still swept back and forth because the masts and sails remained intact. If these had broken, the ship would have laid calmer. While we were still pumping we saw that a boat was lowered over the side, 2 machinists and 6 sailors took place therein. We realized that they were abandoning ship, leaving us behind in our death threatening situation. The captain had just told us that he hoped the ship would stay afloat and that he was doing his very best to ensure that. The captain called to the sailors in the boat that was rowed right beside the ship; a number of other sailors tried to jump into that boat, but did not dare that dangerous leap. The boat rowed farther and farther from the ship. The captain once more tried to change their and the rest of the crew's minds but in this he was not succesful. The passengers became even more desperate.
The remaining sailors did their best to make the ship sail-worthy again; others made a 2nd boat ready for departure. 3 pails and a blanket were tossed into that boat. It was now May 5, 7 o'clock in the morning. While this boat was lowered I decided to take place in it. Within a short period of time 27 people were in that boat, including 3 Frisians. They were Ulbe Bergsma from Pingjum, Oene Martinus Wagenaar from Heerenveen and the undersigned Izaäk Epkes Roorda from Dantumawoude. The others were almost all Irish, 21 men and 3 Germans. Sailors cut the ropes, afraid that more people would take a place in the already overladen boat and soon we rowed away.
Someone jumped from the ship and clamped fast to the boat's side and, with luck, we helped him. From our boat we saw 2 men and 2 women jump from the ship but we were too far away to give them aid. The women stayed afloat because of their huge skirts, but the men wrestled with the waves. It was heartbreaking to see them drift and be unable to give them help. For me it is impossible to describe the screaming and crying of the 170 people who were still aboard. We had no time to stop, for our boat was making water as it had been heavily damaged in the storm.
We were thankful that during the voyage we had learned to understand the Irish a little because we understood from their speech together that they were planning to lighten the boat by tossing us out. Ulbe Bergsma had already been knocked about the head a few times. After that Oene Martinus Wagenaar and I grabbed our pocket knives and threatened to stick the knives in them if they hurt us again. We were constantly bailing water, in order to save our lives, with a knife in the other hand. The sailors rowed the boat, trying to reach the coast of Florida. Toward evening we saw a ship in the distance and we steered toward it in spite of a strong contrary wind. The sea was so rough that at times it seemed we were not going forward. Luckily some sailors saw us from the mast and their captain gave orders to drop the anchors so that we soon caught up with them. They let down a ladder so that we could all climb aboard. We appreciated the reception they had prepared for us.
The ship was named Pollux, and she was underway from New Orleans to Liverpool, if we had been 15 minutes later we would probably not have been noticed from the ship and would have been left to our lot. Aboard we were quickly offered food and drink since we had not eaten for quite some time. Soon we passed a ship heading in the direction of New York but in spite of a signal from Captain McEntyre they sailed past us. We begged captain to sail in the direction of the William & Mary to see if other passengers could be saved and he promised to do so which gave us some peace although in the back of our minds we thought that in all likelihood the ship had already sunk. In the evening we saw the damaged ship but the captain told us that he could not go close because of the treacherous coral reefs. All we could now do was to pray that help would come to the passengers left behind. The following morning we were so far from the ship that any attempt at rescue was pointless.
The first day aboard the Pollux we were appointed a place on the lower deck. The next day we had to remain there both during the day and during the night. It was no small thing for the Pollux to take an extra 27 people aboard and give them food and drink. At night we slept on the cables which caused us a lot of misery. When it rained we got soaking wet; the only thing that protected us a little was an old torn piece of sailcloth. In the day time the sun took care to give us more pleasant temperatures. During the leap into the boat my wooden shoes had broken so that I was forced to continue in my socks; they had been mended with sailcloth which felt strange. Naturally I often had wet feet, especially when we had to scrub the deck. The first 3 days we had the wind in our back. On May 8 we were surprised when an eagle landed on the deck. In the morning of May 9 and the night of May 23 we had heavy downpours. On the 25th of May we saw a large fish that the crew called a whale. It was a wonderful sight when the sun shone upon the fish as it swam away. On the 30th we saw another enormous fish that according to the crew also belonged to the whale family.
In the evening of the 1st of June we saw the coast of Ireland. You can understand how glad we were. Ships approached us to do some trading. Fishermen came aboard to sell fish. Since the sailors had no money they traded tobacco for fish. The captain traded meat for fish. The fishermen were glad with the trade, especially the tobacco which was sought after since in England tobacco prices were quite a bit higher. We hoped to be in Liverpool soon but suddenly the wind turned. Our disappointment was mitigated when the captain served us a delicious fish dinner. This guest meal was good for our hungry stomachs. In the afternoon of June 5 the wind was once more favorable so that we could set our course for our destination. The same evening a steamship was chartered to drag us to Liverpool, and we were told that that would take another 24 hours. The tug did not arrive till 9 o'clock in the evening and we did not arrive in Liverpool till the next day.
I had now arrived in this large city for the 2nd time. 10 weeks ago I left here not knowing that I would return so soon with empty hands. Early in the morning of the 6th of June custom agents came aboard to check the baggage of the crew for tobacco. Unfortunately for them no tobacco was found. The sailors re-packed their baggage and left the ship. We did not have the opportunity to thank the captain for his hospitality since he had left the ship the previous night. I was deeply ashamed to leave the ship in socks so that my 2 Friesian friends decided to buy me a pair. A little later Ulbe Bergsma arrived with a pair of shoes. Then we left the ship that had been like a guardian angel to us in fearful days. We had been through a lot and had suffered much. Words cannot express my feelings, so happy, so grateful I was standing again on the same quay after so many weeks on the ocean. We returned to the same inn where we had been before; here Ulbe Bergsma had borrowed money to buy shoes for me. The friendly German owners had burst into tears when they heard of the shipwreck and did not know if any others survived. They immediately supplied us with clothing and made arrangements so that we could refresh ourselves. After that a delicious hot meal was ready for us.
I wrote home at once and told them I would return home as soon as possible. In Liverpool we saw various Dutch ships and I met a Frisian friend I had not seen for years. Together we saw a great deal of Liverpool which made my stay here more agreeable. We were advised to approach the insurance company of the William & Mary to complain and ask for a return of part of our fare since we had not arrived at our destination. We each received 30 guildres. With this we could pay the inn for our clothing and our stay. We were also directed by the insurance company to go to the Dutch consulate where we were promised that they would pay our travel costs to our own Netherlands.
We remained another 12 days in Liverpool after which the consulate told us that we could leave the next day aboard de Rotterdam. Ulbe Bergsma and I made ourselves ready while Oene Martinus Wagenaar decided to wait a few more days for the last news about William & Mary. [There is a URL below for a letter in which the writer mentions that one of the three was his nephew. Likely this was Oene and he did not want to return home without news of his relative(s) aboard the ship.]
Saturday morning Ulbe Bergsma and I left Liverpool. From the consulate we had each received an additional 3 guildres to cover other costs we might have on our return journey. The first day we sailed so close to the coast that we could see the cows grazing in the pastures. Nothing exciting happened during the crossing. We sailed constantly into the wind so that the trip took 4 days. We neared the Dutch coast on June 22 and arrived in Rotterdam at 1 P.M. in the afternoon.
We thanked God that he spared us and that he had brought us safely back to our fatherland. Our thoughts were constantly with those who had remained in the William & Mary and we hoped that God had treated them humanely.
In Rotterdam we were assailed by news reporters who wanted to know what happened to the rest of the passengers. We went to the mayor of Rotterdam with the legitimation papers that we had received from the consulate in Liverpool. He took us to the police station and then brought us to the railway station where we received train tickets to Amsterdam; the mayor also gave us new legitimation papers for the mayor in Amsterdam. In the afternoon we left Rotterdam and in the evening we arrived in Amsterdam. Here we asked for the nearest police station, but unfortunately no officers were present anymore. Then we heard that a freight ship was leaving that evening for Lemmer. Since we still had some money and were anxious to be home we decided to to go with the freight ship to Lemmer, Friesland. The next morning we arrived in Lemmer and, having no more money, decided to walk to Sneek. Soon we were over-tired both because of the warmth of the day and our poor health. To our pleasure we arrived in 4 hours. Here we said farewell since Ulbe Bergsma needed to go in the direction of Pingjum and I towards Leeuwarden. In the afternoon I could go with a tugboat to Leeuwarden where I arrived late in the evening. It was too late to continue my journey so I spentthe night there and in the morning started walking in the direction of De Valom. To my great surprise I met my father and my brother who were working there. Together we went to Dantumawoude. It was Friday, June 24, 1853 at 6:00 P.M. when I could once more embrace my mother and my other brothers and sisters after an absence of 17 weeks.
Izaäk wrote a book about this strange journey, and with the proceeds of that book financed his second trip to America in 1854.
This article came about with the help of the persons below: Karen Hanley (USA), Murt Kooi (USA), Greta Thompson (USA), Wilma Vande Berg (USA), Theunis Velink (Netherlands), Rob Sloat (USA), Linda Ziemann (USA) and Bill Brunia (USA)
If you have corrections or additions I would like to hear them
Kor Postma
van Aernsmastraat 14
9104 HG Damwoude
Tel: 0511 - 422640
Note from translator: I found a slightly different version of the wreck online in a letter from Sjoerd Bekins translated into English. (The following file contained this until spring 2023. No replacement has yet been found. href="http://since1951.com/bekins.html">http://since1951.com/bekins.html). In it the fate of most of the remaining passengers is told; they were saved and eventually arrived in New Orleans. Sjoerd wrote the letter in 1853 from Beaverdam, Michigan. This URL has 3 other articles about the ship wreck, all from newspapers. The 3rd of them--from the New York Tribune of June 19, 1853--reads:
The intelligence which we published yesterday morning of the rescue of the passengers of the ship William & Mary, which, on the authority of Captain Stinson and several of the crew who arrived at this port some days ago, was stated to have found a watery grave by the sinking of that vessel, discloses an act of cowardice and heartless recreancy of duty on the part of the officers and crew of that ship, and of the master especially, which demands the scorching indignation of the public, and the condign punishment, if they can be reached, of the offenders. It now seems that the craven wretches who commanded and navigated that vessel, at the first suggestion of danger, instead of exerting themselves to save the helpless passengers in their charge, seized upon the only means of escape, the ship's boats, and rushed for the land which they reached in safety. As the story was told by these men on their arrival in this city, it was bad enough, and sufficient to call down severe censure upon their heads. But this story was that they only left the ship at the moment of her sinking, and when further effort was totally unavailing. The truth now seems to be that the desertion of the ship and passengers was at the beginning of difficulty, and when everything was to be done, to prevent the water from gaining in the hold, to make signals for [unreadable], and to manage the ship so as to aid in the final safety of the passengers. But the whole two hundred and eight souls were mercilessly left to their fate, and their despair and helplessness rendered perfect by the desertion of those who alone seemed competent to save the freight of living beings.