Critique and response - The Wreck of the Loch Ard Poem - 1878

In a previous post I spoke about how W. S. of Blackwood, poet of The Wreck of the Loch Ard, received a letter via The Bacchus Marsh Express either complementing or criticising his poem (it is a bit hard to tell).  As promised here is the letter [1] and the response in verse form from W. S. [2].

Just as I have been unable to expand much on the identity of W. S. beyond their initials, the identity of the author of the letter below is also unknown.  However I can reveal that the quoted poem attributed to G. F. A. was penned by George French Angus.  The Dunbar ran aground at Sydney in 1857. The poem of which a sizeable extract (11 of the 21 verses) is included in the critique letter. G.F.A.'s poem was first published in 1857 [3], and then again as part of a collection in 1874 [4].

The critique letter was printed on 27 July 1878. The newspaper printer has set it out is the preamble to the 'reflections' which I have covered previously.  W. S.'s response to the letter appears a week later on 3 August 1878.

The letter feels duplicitous in its construction, the author uses the voice of an unnamed, 'evil-minded', person, 'who is no judge of poetry' to critique W. S. I suspect that this un-named complainer and the letter's author are one and the same. For me the two greatest slurs are

W. S. is not a signature at all, but means "Wretched Stuff," and that it is not poetry but doggerel.

and

"W. S." is not a Byron or a Tennyson, but as a local poet, treating a local subject in a descriptive fashion in rhyme his production has quite sufficient merit to justify its publication in a local paper, at any rate.

I feel it is safe to dimiss GFA as the author, as a well known identity his timeline is well known an he would have return to England by the time of these publications.

To the Editor of the Express. [1]

SIR, — 

It must be a gratification to your readers to find a second time in your columns that noble poem on the wreck of the Loch Ard. Such an event is calculated to rouse the strongest feelings of our hearts, and if a man has any poetry in him to compel him to pour it forth. I am proud of Blackwood for possessing such a poet as W. S. All honour to him! I wish his merits were more widely known. I shall certainly spread his fame as far as I can. I have heard some remarks from one person, who is evidently no judge of poetry, which, as he is a person of some little influence, may, if allowed to spread, injure the fair name of W. S.; therefore I take the liberty of writing to you, sir, to expose his ignorance, and uphold the character of our "local poet." This evil minded person says that W. S. is not a signature at all, but means "Wretched Stuff," and that it is not poetry but doggerel. Now, sir, I recollect that some years ago there was a somewhat similar catastrophe at Port Jackson — the wreck of the Dunbar. Upon that occasion a poem was written, a copy of a part of which I enclose, that you may see that, in poetry, Sydney is a long way behind Blackwood, and that G. F. A. cannot for a moment be compared with W. S.

THE WRECK OF THE DUNBAR.

She rode the midnight sea,
With the land upon her lee,
Fond hearts hoped soon to be
At home again.

No moon lights up the deep,
No stars their vigils keep,
And the weary ones asleep
Dream their last dream.

The doom'd ship ploughs the wave,
She bears them to their grave,
Where the mad surges rave,
And sea fires gleam.

Visions of friendly greeting--
Dreams of to-morrow's meeting--
Alike old age are cheating,
And youth's bright crown.

Toy of the mocking wave,
Helpless her crew, to save;
The beautiful and brave
They all went down.

Then mingled with the roar
Of the wild surf on the shore
From is hundred souls and more
One shriek of woe.

That cry went up to Heaven,
As in darkness they were driven;
And the strong ship was riven
At one fell blow.

Death rides in triumph there!
Through that midnight of despair
The last faint gurgling prayer
Is heard no more.

And then the giant sea,
By God's right hand set free,
Mocks man's proud mastery,
And all is o'er? 

... 

Calm Calm sleep be their sleep
While many mourners weep
The lost ones in the deep--
The fair--the brave. 

God help the hearts that mourn--
The stricken and forlorn;
Whose ties are rudely torn
By the salt wave.

G. F. A.

You will be able to judge, sir, whether the effusion of G. F. A., or that of W. S., should more correctly be styled wretched stuff. Allowances must certainly be made for G. F. A., because the romantic incident of the rescue of the "afflicted Miss" was wanting in the case of the Dunbar. As only one life was saved on that occasion, G. F. A. could not have written such noble lines as those in which W. S. has recorded the heroic conduct of Thomas Pearce thus--

"He brought her brandy from the tide,
And rushes from the mountain side,
And both were properly applied."

The evil-minded person mentioned above says that the "tide," meaning the sea, is not the usual place to go for brandy, and that rushes are not generally found on mountains; also, that while he, not being a teetotaller, can see how brandy can be "applied" beneficially, he does not understand the "proper application" of rushes. Let him come to Blackwood. I have no doubt W. S. will explain to him how those articles are to be found in those places, and also the "proper application" of them. But let him not again presume to find fault with any poet who belongs to BLACKWOOD.

We should feel ourselves a party to deception if we did not state that the writer of the above is not a resident at Blackwood. He indulges in satire which some persons may consider "wretched stuff' instead of the poetry he criticises. All excellence is comparative, and "W. S." is not a Byron or a Tennyson, but as a local poet, treating a local subject in a descriptive fashion in rhyme his production has quite sufficient merit to justify its publication in a local paper, at any rate. His critic quotes perhaps the worst verse in the whole, and does so in a spirit which shows that he does not know or ignores the fact that literal accuracy is a drawback rather than a merit in poetry, which should be imaginative, and fanciful. Indeed the verse complained of is too accurate in its description of the acts narrated, and if we took the trouble to analyse it, and "Blackwood's" rendering of it, we could show that the latter is wrong, even according to his own canons of criticism. We commend to Blackwood's poetic soul the following verse as more worthy of his attention than the one he quotes:--

Ungoaded by the love of fame--
Untwitted by the taunts of shame--
No crowds were there to praise or blame,
Or weep suppose he died,
Yet swift as eagle on his prey,
Or lightning's flash he's borne away
Headlong dashing through the spray
He stems the seething tide!

W. S. understandably took exception to the criticism. Their response, in my opinion, is more doggerel than poetry. I suspect they deliberately plays this up as a rebuke, they hint at this at the end of verse one.

REPLY TO THE WOULD-BE CRITIC OF THE LINES ON THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. [2]

Friend or critic, great unknown,
For the courtesy you've shown
A deep debt is due to thee
By Mt. Blackwood or by me.
Your opinions of our bard
Claim the following reward;
'Tis the least that we can do
To express some praise of you
While your virtues I extend
Even to the world's end.
Others' thoughts are herein shown;
Like yourself I nurse my own.
Here's the stuff that crowds rehearse,
All strung up in doggerel verse.

Critic, bard, or nameless thing,
When your fancy first took wing
Did it fly in search of fame
To procure its Dad a name ?
Its melodious siren strain
And honeyed words were all in vain,
For the music lost its charm
And wily words failed to disarm
Suspicion, though inspection proof--
All except the cloven hoof,
Which your readers saw, and smiled.
Poor old Brimstone, were you foiled?
After spending all your wit
Not a side with laughter split.

Some aver you're not so bad,
Only for the drop you had.
Though, poor wrecker, from the tide
You with brandy were supplied,
Who should make a song of this
Or your sympathy for Miss?
Some maintain it raised the steam,
Then you eyed as in a dream
The rushes in a whirlwind glide
Away from every mountain side.
Spirit medium, did they pass
While you struggled in the grass?

Keener critics, more acute,
Stranger things still attribute--
Overweening wish to shine
Fans they say that flame of thine.
We admire those lines of worth,

Pretty lines, to which you give birth.
Sydney's bard will doubtless see
They might have died but for thee.
Though you borrow every line
May you not by proxy shine?
While your scarecrow croak is clear
Rhyming dunces die from fear.
If your wit the world may share
Tell us what you've got to spare.
Feed not all on other's fame;
Sneer not, thing without a name,
Be you pedagogue or prince;
Small's your rate if taxed on sense.

Now, if vain presuming elf
Self conceit consumes thyself,
Curb the flame, and pray for sense.
Gag your mouth in self defence.
Bid not worlds in wonder gaze
At an addled critic's craze.

Or if toady tool thou art,
Sycophant to evil art,
Be the cat's-paw while you may;
You'll crack nuts another day.

Baffled critic, sad and lone,
Hope of honour fled and gone,
Conscience-smitten, ill at ease,
What can Blackwood do to please?
Pity prompts her humble muse
Both to pardon and excuse
All thy testy lines of spleen--
Pointless, pungentless, and mean.

W. S.

BLACKWOOD.

References

[1] To the Editor of the Express. (1878, July 27). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1943), p. 3. Retrieved April 7, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702152 

[2] Advertising (1878, August 3). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 2. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702507

[3] Poetry, Original and Select. (1857, October 17). Adelaide Observer (SA : 1843 - 1904), p. 2 (Supplement to the Adelaide Observer). Retrieved December 28, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article158116535

[4] ANNIVERSARY OF THE WRECK OF THE DUNBAR. (1897, August 22). Truth (Sydney, NSW : 1894 - 1954), p. 1. Retrieved April 7, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article169756185

Reflections on the wreck of the Loch Ard - A poem (1878)

Miss Eva Carmichael Departing Australia aboard the P&O Steamer, Tanjore.
The Australasian Sketcher with Pen and Pencil

Access Under the Lino's,  Loch Ard Index here.

As mentioned in my previous blog post, this poem is a follow up from W. S. of Blackwood's poem 'The Wreck of the Loch Ard'. The Bacchus Marsh Express republished that poem on the day that this poem was written. Whether the poet had been contemplating the matter and the republishing prompted them to write is hard to determine. Perhaps rereading their poem in the paper made them realise they had more to say on the matter.

The poem clearly has Eva Carmichael in focus, even assuming her voice, as this verse shows.

Where foam-crested billows, in fury and madness,
Dealt death and destruction with hideous roar;
And left me an orphan, alone and in sadness,
A pilgrim to pine on a far-distant shore.

The only other survivor of the wreck, Tom Pearce, could not claim to be left an orphan by the event. In the first eleven verses the poet assumes Eva's voice, and the language is heavily nuanced in a way that suggests demonic forces at work in the wrecking of the ship. Those thoughts were absent from the first poem.

In the final two verses Eva clearly becomes the subject of the verse, rather than the imagined author, as the poet laments Eva's departure from Australia. It would in many ways be better to treat the final two verses as a separate poem.

Eva Carmichael departed Australia aboard the P&O Steamer, Tanjore, on the 6th August 1878 [1]. Yet to read the final two verses of this poem, written three weeks previous, you would assume she had already departed. Perhaps by this time she had departed the shelter of the Gibson home, and the journey to Melbourne indicated that a journey to Ireland (poetically referenced as Erin's Isle) was imminent.

REFLECTIONS ON THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. [2]

When evening's shadows round me close,
My soul in slumber backward goes
To scenes of wreck and rending woes
By yonder goblin cave.
Where fiends the forms of bats assume,
By day concealed in caverned tomb,
But sally forth in evening's gloom
Like vultures to the wave.

Where Satan in his demon's pride,
With water imps on every side,
Commands the billows far and wide
With spells to scathe and sere:
Till terror-seized by ocean's swell,
And sounds of victims' drowning yell,
And sights of which I dare not tell,
My senses sink in fear.

'Midst scenes appalling to the eye,
And meteors flashing through the sky,
And victims unprepared to die,
My brain with fever burns;
Till bathed in perspiration's stream
In frenzy wild for help I scream--
The sounds awake me from the dream
And consciousness returns!

Now, bereft of home and gladness;
Family, friends, and comrades brave:
Sunk at once in bitter sadness,
Hopeless by the cruel wave.

Still my senses seem to borrow
Sounds that ape the ocean's swell.
And forms, alas! I left in sorrow
Gasping still a last farewell.

Where foam-crested billows, in fury and madness,
Dealt death and destruction with hideous roar;
And left me an orphan, alone and in sadness,
A pilgrim to pine on a far-distant shore.

Where heartrending cries never fade from my hearing,
Where grim visions sinking in death seem to glare;
Where my heart-breaking parents, midst foam disappearing,
Cling to brothers and sisters in pangs of despair!

They who smiled at my gladness, my sorrows would share,
And tenderly turn every grief from my brow;
Oh! how could I value their infinite care
If Providence pleased to award it me now!

But, alas! cruel fate has destined us to sever,
And leave me lamenting in anguish and pain,
To mourn o'er the dear ones departed forever;
Oh! how can I live and not see them again!

May the sun that descends to enliven with blossom
The hearts of the herds or the lambs on the lea,
Not dispel the dark gloom that abounds in my bosom
And shed a kind ray of condolence on me?

Victoria's hearts and her land of green bushes,
While memory survives will be honoured by me;
Though the home of my childhood to memory rushes
And binds me more closely now, Erin to thee!

….

May your bark in safety glide
O'er the ocean's billows wide,
Till you view with native pride
The land you long to see, Eva.
Where friends of youth in Erin's isle
Your cares with kindness will beguile,
And the gentle shamrock's smile
Awaits to welcome thee, Eva.

Though we sadly say adieu
Our hearts in unison beat true
With love for Erin's isle and you,
Since there you wish to dwell, Eva;
There may you be by fortune blessed,
By care and happiness caressed.
Though loth to part, you say we must,
Then ever fare thee well, Eva!

W. S., Blackwood, 13th July 1878.

Source:

[1] NEWS OF THE DAY. (1878, August 7). The Age (Melbourne, Vic. : 1854 - 1954), p. 2. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article199354529

[2] REFLECTIONS ON THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. (1878, July 27). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 3. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702151 

The Wreck of the Loch Ard - A poem by W. S. of Blackwood (1878) with some notes

Thank you Carmel Wooding for your reading of the poem (above). You can find Carmel via her Facebook page 'Carmel Wooding Bush Poet'.

This particular post has had a gestation best measured in years. Today I post the first of a series of poems about the ill fated Ship, the Lord Ard, which was wrecked off the Victorian coast at a place that now bears its name, Loch Ard Gorge. The Loch Ard story is well told at the nearby Flagstaff Hill Maritime Museum in Warrnambool. There are also a number of articles about the wreck on this blog already, so much so I have created an index.

This post will simply present the first poem in the series, in both written and audio form. Other posts will provide:

• a subsequent poem which is a reflection on the events written some weeks later
• an analysis of the poem from a poetic perspective
• a poetic critique of the poem and the author's poetic response
• a shallow dive into questions of authorship with a collection of thematically unrelated poems by Zachariah Sutcliffe.

The Wreck of the Loch Ard

The ship Loch Ard from England sailed
For Hobson's Bay. Alas! she failed,
And deeply is her fate bewailed.
All souls but two are lost!

Near Moonlight Head, a place forlorn,
With close-reefed topsails leeward borne
She, June the first, at dawning morn
Was wrecked upon the coast.

The night before, all glad and gay
Retired with thoughts of Hobson's Bay
And landing there the coming day,
They softly fall asleep.

Save steady breezes sighing low
And fitful splash upon the prow
All's still above and hushed below--
She glides along the deep.

At four a.m.
The captain throws the deep sea lead;
Hoarse sounds are heard of rocks ahead,
Which roused the slumberers from their bed.

They wake to fall asleep in death!
Midst gurgling sounds of stifling breath,
And seething wave and reel and shock,
And bumping ship and callous rock,
And falling spars and crashing mast,
And mangled bodies grim and ghast, 
And screech and creak and horrid sound,
And lurid lightning's flashing round,
And faces pale amidst the glare,
And cries for help and sounds of prayer,
And piping winds and tempest's swell,
And ocean yawning like a hell!
Redoubling force and fatal stroke,
And sounds that peals of thunder make,
And shriek and groan and drowning yell,
And waves by fury driven,
And breakers' roar on rock-bound shore,
And cries for help to Heaven!

The captain last seen at his stand,
Ready to help or give command,
In sorrow shook a lady's hand
And tearfully he said,

"If from this awful scene of strife,
Dear lady, you escape with life,
Tell, Eva, tell my widowed wife
I like a sailor died!"

No more was seen of the affray
Except some fighting with the spray.
Young Pearce was early borne away
And now had reached the coast.

There wet and weary does he stray,
Loth to leave and loth to stay.
All signs of life had died away
He thought all else were lost.

While musing on that boisterous beach
Through dangers great he had to reach,
His ear caught something like a screech--
It was a human shout.

A floating spar was dancing there
Clutched by a maiden in despair.
The hero did at once declare
"I'll die, or bring her out."

Ungoaded by the love of fame--
Untwitted by the taunts of shame--
No crowds were there to praise or blame,
Or weep suppose he died,

Yet swift as eagle on his prey,
Or lightning's flash he's borne away
Headlong dashing through the spray
He stems the seething tide!

Now desperate strains our hero brave,
He steals a victim from the grave
And lays her in a lonely cave
Till better may be done;

Then brings he brandy from the tide
And rushes from the mountain side
And both are properly applied--
His prize is so far won.

On rushy bed, where she was laid
Unconsciously, the slumbering maid
Breathed a deep sigh and trembling said
"Tell mother I am here;

And tell dear father, tell him how
I'd like him to be with me now,
He'd take these seaweeds from my brow
And kiss his Eva dear."

Those words near broke the hero's heart;
No mother has she now,
Nor father dear with playful art
To kiss his Eva's brow;
No brother's help she now may crave
Nor sister's words to cheer;
All, all, have found a watery grave
That were to Eva dear!

"Then I will bathe thy brow," he said,
"And will a father be,
Pray drink this cordial now sweet maid
Our Father sent by me.
And wisdom with a heavenly grace
May animate thy brow,
And reason light that once bright face
So dull and cloudy now."

Then soon like flowers at dawning day
Her opening eyes yet wet with dew
Shone bright in reason's genial ray--
Her face assumed its radiant hue.
Oh! cruel fate, assuage her tears;
Thou who hast laid her kindred low
Enable me to quell her fears
Protect her, and subdue her woe.

With consciousness come grief and fears,
Enquiring looks and silent tears;
While through the gloomy cave she peers
Sad horror o'er her creeps,
She sees, for garments seaward gone,
Rushes are kindly o'er her thrown.
In gratitude to Pearce alone
The blushing maiden weeps.

With mingled horror and surprise
The scene affects the lady's eyes,
Who to her brave deliverer sighs
In gratitude and grief.
Distracted by his tale of woe
She begs that he too may not go
And leave her situated so
Unless to find relief.

He said, "your wish is granted, miss,
Now take an ample draught of this,
A cordial that can soothe distress
Or woe however deep."
Both deeply drank, and it was well;
The spirit acted like a spell,
And in short time both sufferers fell
Into a balmy sleep.

Soon much refreshed young Pearce arose,
And seeing the lady in repose
For further comforts once more goes
To search that dreary coast.

He finds a gloomy rock-bound shore
From whence he may return no more;
Unless their heights he can climb o'er
Both lives he knows are lost.

He faced the rocks with nerves of steel,
His only thoughts the lady's weal
His youthful bosom burns with zeal
To find some timely aid.

Then up the cliffs, like ocean sprite,
He nimbly climbs to dizzy height
To find assistance where he might
To nurse the famished maid.

The noble youth, though tired and worn,
With scratch and bruise and garments torn,
Though baffled oft and downward borne
Unconquered yet remains;

Again his eyes are upwards cast,
Now with a firmness unsurpassed,
And grips more desperate than the last
Those awful heights he gains.

And shortly here our hero finds
A track that to a station winds;
This he resolves to keep;
He landward started with a bound
And kept the track until he found
A shepherd with his sheep.

The shepherd heard his tale of woe,
And told him not to further go.
"Return at once" he said,
"And I will to the station ride,
Some aid and comforts to provide,
Meantime you tend the maid."

Gibson, a man of generous heart,
With others quickly made a start
To the disastrous scene;
Eager to succour or to save
They shortly reach the well-known cave
No lady could be seen!

Soon after Pearce had climbed the rock,
The maid in fear and trembling woke
And found she was alone.
With bated breath and anxious fears,
Afraid to speak, she thinks she hears
At times a dismal moan.

Can that be Pearce, in thought she said,
Can he be dying--is he dead:
Or is he here, or has he fled?
Desperate with fear, at last she cried,
"Ho, Pearce, are you not coming?"

Startled where silence reigned profound,
Voices like hers rise from the ground,
Words like her own are whispered round,
Each gloomy nook returns a sound
Like "coming, coming, coming."

Dark shadows seem to float in air,
While eyes like cats in darkness glare;
The maid in fear and wild despair
Ran screaming from the cave;
But soon fresh cause for fears abound,
The crags with yells of "cooey" resound,
She feared wild natives were around
Who had no heart to save.

"The savages are near," she said,
And midst the bushes cowered.
"I hear their yell, I hear their tread;
Heaven! must I be devoured!"
"Oh! Providence, with power to save,"
Exclaimed the afflicted Miss;
"Why take me from the kindly wave
To die a death like this?"

Here must I lay my aching head,
Whate'er my fate may be,
If Heaven ere helped a friendless maid
It must be kind to me."
But hark! a footstep coming here
The lady tried to fly,
But falling in some bushes near
Cried "Help me, God, I die!"

Still rushing forward Gibson said
"Your cry is heard, you've naught to fear."
He threw his coat around the maid
And gave kind words of cheer.

Now charmed indeed are the lady's ears;
Those words like angel's accents sound,
No savage monster there appears
But kind and Christian friends are round.

Again like incubus dispelled,
Her fears have faded with the dream;
In grateful raptures now she's held
And Hope reflects a ray serene.

Then with a modesty and grace
That well became the lady here,
She looked in Gibson's kindly face
And anxious asked if Pearce was near.

Again her heart rebounds with joy,
Again is apprehension fled,
Again she sees the sailor boy
By kind and generous Gibson led.

"Take comfort now, my youthful friends,
Affliction's tears we all must shed,
But Providence will make amends,"
The hospitable squatter said.

Then we will hasty homeward go,
Where care and comfort shall be thine;
Where tender hearts with kindness glow
To comfort you with all that's mine.

And soon they reach his mansion fair,
Where worldly blessings round them flow;
The lady meets a mother's care
And all the household sooth their woe.

By care and kindness thus caressed,
The wrecked in health and spirits mend;
And Gibson's by Australia blessed--
He to the friendless proves a friend.

W.S. Blackwood, June 18, 1878.

Notes

I first encountered this poem in the online archive of the State Library of Victoria (SLV), where it is attributed to Zachariah Sutcliffe on an undated poetic brochure. Subsequent investigation suggests it is better attributed to a 'W. S. of Blackwood'. This later poet I have been unable to provide much biographical material about, we assume he lives in Blackwood in 1878 and it would be safe to say he reads the Bacchus Marsh Express.

This poem was written on the 18th June 1878, a fortnight after news of the wreck first broke. The poem was first published by The Bacchus Marsh Express 29 June 1878 [1], and then again by the same paper on 13 July [2]. 

On the day the poem was published for the second time, 'W. S.' wrote a sequel which was published on 27 July [3]. Placement of the second poem within the paper on 27 July seems strategic as it immediately follows a somewhat ambiguous compliment or criticism from an anonymous contributor [4].  W. S. then writes a response in poetic form to the critic [5], which is published by the paper on 17 August.

The paper publishes the poem a number of times as a stand alone pamphlet to raise money for the Loch Ard Fund. Given the clear and repeated use of 'W. S.' in the paper's publication, I doubt that the pamphlet where I first encountered poem is one of these. The SLV pamphlet was printed in Emerald Hill (South Melbourne) and the Bacchus Marsh Express had its printing house in Bacchus Marsh [6].

The poem's 47 verses have a complex structure and if you have read newspaper reports of the wreck, it would be possible to consider a source analysis from the newspaper coverage (a project I have not yet attempted).

I express my gratitude to fellow Trove participant, ‘cvening’, for cleaning up much of the text used here.

References

[1] THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. (1878, June 29). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 3. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702371

[2] THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. (1878, July 13). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 4. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702705

[3] REFLECTIONS ON THE WRECK OF THE LOCH ARD. (1878, July 27). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 3. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702151 

[4] To the Editor of the Express. (1878, July 27). The Bacchus Marsh Express (Vic. : 1866 - 1945), p. 3. Retrieved September 25, 2019, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89702152 

[6] Heritage Council of Victoria (n.d.)  Bacchus March Express Office and Printing Works. Retrieved April 2, 2023, from https://vhd.heritagecouncil.vic.gov.au/places/44

Honouring Tom Pearce

The Wreck of the Loch Ard in 1878, is a focus point for this blog. (See the link to the Loch Ard Index at the end of the post).  There were only two survivors, Miss Amy Carmichael and Tom Pearce.

Miss Carmichael, caught the imagination of the people as the damsel in distress, and Tom Pearce was clearly the knight in shining armour.  For his gallantry his received much praise and some considerable reward. This post seeks to document these features of the Loch Ard story.

Some rewards were funded by public subscription, sale of mementos and benefit concerts. The Pearce Testimonial Fund and the Loch Ard Fund did well to garner public interest, with separate committees at least in Melbourne, Sydney, Warrnambool, Geelong and Ballarat (Herald 26 Jun 1878).

Saleable mementos included:

• photographs of both Tom Pearce and Amy Carmichael sold for six pence.  Some sought to make fakes of these images and sold them for their own gain, rather than to the benefit of the Pearce Benevolent Fund or the Loch Ard Fund.
• a commissioned piece of music titled "The Young Hero Schottische" (the sheet music is available for download from here).
• Reprints of the poem about the wreck.

The gatherings

The Australasian Sketcher with Pen and Pencil  of 6th July, 1878 covered two events from June 1878.

On the 19th June

... the "Presentation to Mr. Pearce by the Governor," ... This event took place at the Treasury, on June 19, when His Excellency the Governor, on behalf of the Government of Victoria, handed to Mr. Pearce a valuable gold watch and chain, in recognition of the gallantry he had shown.

see also this http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article111096659

On the 20th June at Melbourne Town Hall

We next show the 'Presentation of the Awards of the Victorian Humane Society.' The annual distribution of these awards took place at the Town-hall on June 20. Mr. Wilks, the president of the society, occupied the chair, and the presentations were made by Sir Redmond Barry, There was an immense attendance of the public, induced principally by the presentation of a gold medal to Thomas Pearce, one of the two survivors from the wreck of the Loch Ard, who was greeted by the audience with tumultuous applause. The gold medal received by Mr. Pearce was the first ever awarded by the society. During the evening a collection was made in aid of the funds of the society, which realised about £80. We are glad to know that the society during the past year has made very satisfactory progress and now occupies an excellent position— a result, it ought to be said, which is in no small degree owing to the untiring exertions of its energetic secretary, Mr. E. Kidson.

Of which The Age writes -

The Town Hall was filled last night with a multitude of persons eager to witness
the presentation, amongst other awards, of the gold medal of the Victorian Humane
Society to young Tom Pearce, the only male survivor of the crew and passengers of the Loch Ard, Mr. Wilks president of the society, occupied the chair, and the ceremony of presentation was performed by Sir Redmond Barry. Young Pearce was the hero of the hour, and was during the whole of the evening the cynosure of every eye. Sir Redmond
Barry made suitable speeches as the various recipients came forward to claim the honours so liberally dealt out to them by the Humane Society, and was on each occasion well received, but the frequent interruptions of applause during the few remarks which
accompanied the presentation of the gold medal to Pearce were positively deafening.
Pearce's demeanor throughout the proceedings was modest but manly, and served to
greatly enhance the esteem in which he is now universally held. A report of the proceedings will be found in another column.

While according to the Argus 21 June, 1878, a fund had been set up ...

An adjourned meeting of the citizens of Melbourne desirous of presenting a testimonial to Mr. Thos. Pearce, in recognition of his gallant conduct in connexion with the rescue of Miss Carmichael from the wreck of the Loch Ard, took place yesterday at the Town-hall. In the unavoidable absence of the Mayor, Mr. Jos. Fergusson, M.L.A., was voted to the chair. Mr. Val. Sharp, honorary secretary of the Photographic Society of Victoria, explained what had been done by his Society, and pointed out that although a good sum would, no doubt, be realised by the sale of the photo, of Mr. Pearce, the amount so obtained could not, at his own request, be devoted towards any fund for his benefit, but must go towards a Loch Ard fund, to be devoted to the benefit of the widows and families of those who had perished in tho ship. Mr. Dickson announced that he had collected the sum of £4 10s., the greater portion of which had been derived from small subscriptions given by the employees of Messrs. Alston and Brown, Collins-street. As the attendance at the meeting was very meagre it was decided to adjourn it until Tuesday next, at 4 o'clock. The wish of some unprincipled photographers to make money out of the desire of the public to obtain portraits of Miss Carmichael and Mr. Thos. Pearce, the only survivors from the Loch Ard, has led some of them to issue spurious likenesses. Miss Carmichael is shown in profile, and it is needless to say that, like the picture of Mr. Pearce, it is a purely imaginary one, and that those who purchase either of them would only be throwing away their money.

The Royal Theatre, Melbourne, 26 Jun 1878.  Of which the Argus writes -

... the performance is for the Loch Ard Fund, and besides being under distinguished patronage, it will be one of the best entertainments ever produced in Melbourne, Mr Coppin, in two of his best impersonations, to wit, Mould and Jem Bags, the Corbyn troupe of Georgia Minstrels, and other talented performers, will make a bill that, independent of the nature of the benefit itself, should crowd the house from floor to ceiling. 

Sydney's Evening News of 29 July 1878, reports of a meeting of six to seven thousand people at the Exhibition Building in Sydney.

A LARGE crowd of people assembled at the Exhibition building on Saturday afternoon to witness the ceremony of presenting; Thomas Pearce with a testimonial for the heroism he displayed at the wreck of the Loch Ard, in saving the life of Miss Carmichael. It is
supposed that there were between six and seven thousand persons present. When the gallant young midshipman appeared on the platform with the members of the testimonial
committee and the Lady Mayorese (Mrs. Merriman), there was great cheering. His worship the Mayor being too ill to attend, the acting-mayor, Alderman Chapman, presided, and in opening the proceedings introduced Captain Trouton, chairman of the testimonial committee, who delivered an appropriate address, after which Mrs. Merriman presented Pearce with a sextant, a pair of binocular glasses, a case of silver instruments, copies of Norrie's and Naper's works on navigation, and a large general chart. In presenting these articles Mrs. Merriman said : I present you with these instruments as a
slight token of your bravery in rescuing from death a fellow-creature at the risk of your own. I hope that God, the father of all, will long spare you to use them to guide your ship safely across the ocean ; and I also hope you will never lose sight of the truth, that it is
through the mercy of Providence you are here to day. (Cheers.) Mr. Pearce thanked the Mayoress, and after bowing to the audience, who loudly cheered him, retired. As he was leaving the building and grounds Pearce was regularly besieged with ladies, eager to shake him by the hand, while some went so far as to insist on kissing him. Mr. Forster presided at the organ, and played several selections during the afternoon. Pearce left Sydney for Melbourne on Saturday night.

Thomas Pearce with the Gold Medal presented by the Humane Society
http://handle.slv.vic.gov.au/10381/70578

In the 27 July, Pearce appears at the Exhibition Building in Sydney

A LARGE crowd of people assembled at the Exhibition building on Saturday afternoon to witness the ceremony of presenting; Thomas Pearce with a testimonial for the heroism he displayed at the wreck of the Loch Ard, in saving the life of Miss Carmichael. It is supposed that there were between six and seven thousand persons present. When the gallant young midshipman appeared on the platform with the members of the testimonial committee and the Lady Mayorese (Mrs. Merriman), there was great cheering. His worship the Mayor being too ill to attend, the acting-mayor, Alderman Chapman, presided, and in opening the proceedings introduced Captain Trouton, chairman of the testimonial committee, who delivered an appropriate address, after which Mrs. Merriman presented Pearce with a sextant, a pair of binocular glasses, a case of silver instruments, copies of Norrie's and Naper's works on navigation, and a large general chart. In presenting these articles Mrs. Merriman said : I present you with these instruments as a slight token of your bravery in rescuing from death a fellow-creature at the risk of your own. I hope that God, the father of all, will long spare you to use them to guide your ship safely across the ocean ; and I also hope you will never lose sight of the truth, that it is through the mercy of Providence you are here to day. (Cheers.) Mr. Pearce thanked the Mayoress, and after bowing to the audience, who loudly cheered him, retired. As he was leaving the building and grounds Pearce was regularly besieged with ladies, eager to shake him by the hand, while some went so far as to insist on kissing him. Mr. Forster presided at the organ, and played several selections during the afternoon. Pearce left Sydney for Melbourne on Saturday night.

See also http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article13418023

Mr. Thomas Pearce, the young midshipman of the wrecked Loch Ard, who distinguished himself by rescuing Miss Carmichael from the spar on which she was helplessly floating, he himself having only just gained the shore, reached Sydney from Melbourne last week. Here, he was received with much enthusiasm. With a view to presenting him with a testimonial a subscription list has been open ever since the news of the wreck was heard. Although the subscriptions were limited to sixpence each, the amount subscribed reached £150. Part of this has been spent in the purchase of a few first-class nautical instruments, which, while serving as a memorial of the Australian appreciation of his bravery, will be useful to him in his profession. These were presented to him, on Saturday last, by the Lady Mayoress of Sydney, in the presence of about seven thousand persons, in the Exhibition Building, Prince Alfred Park. The large balance of the subscriptions is to be added to the amount raised for him in Victoria, in order that the whole may be invested for his future benefit.

On 24 August http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article42981710 

Thomas Pearce was presented with a testimonial this afternoon at the Town Hall by the Mayor. Pearce leaves to-morrow in the Loch Sunart.

Notice that he is leaving on another Loch Line ship. And with him a 'treasure horde' of appreciation. Thomas Pearce's journey into the surf that June morning set him up for life, here is a list of the items he received.

From the Sydney event

• a sextant
• a pair of binocular glasses
• a case of silver instruments
• copies of Norrie's and Naper's works on navigation
• and a large general chart.

From a presentation of the Victorian Human Society (later the Royal Humane Society of Australia)

• a gold medal ... the first issued by the society.

From the Victorian Government

• a cheque for 1000 pound (Heritage Council of Victoria) 
• a gold watch

The ceremony took place in the Executive Council Chamber at half-past 3 o'clock. The Ministry, the Speaker, several members of the Legislative Assembly, and members of the Civil service, who had ben invited to attend, were present. His Excellency addressed Mr. Pearce, and then presented the watch, on which the following inscription is to be engraved : — "Presented to Thomas Pearce, by the Government of Victoria, for his noble conduct in risking his own life to save that of a fellow passenger, after his providential escape on the occasion of the wreck of the Loch Ard, near Sherbrooke river, on the coast of this colony, on 1st June, 1878.' Mr. Pearce, in acknowledging the presentation, said : — ' I thank your Excellency for the honour you have done me, and I hope I shall always do my duty. (Hear, hear.) The ceremony then terminated. (Freemans Journal, 29 Jun 1878)

While the accolades are lovely there is something quite 'proper' about this complaint from The Express and Telegraph quoting the Hamilton Spectator -

It is very far from our intention to depreciate the gallantry displayed by the young man Pearce in saving the life of Miss Carmichael. It must, however, be the opinion of every sensible person who has studied the matter calmly that there has been already too much 'gush' about what every true-hearted British seaman will deem a simple affair. Lives and lives have been as heroically saved without any particular mention of the fact; it was the sensational event which preceded the brave young fellow's effort that invested it with so much importance, and caused so much fulsome praise to he bespattered upon him, so much bathos to be indulged in. But that one knows that the people have been carried away by the generous impulse of the moment, one would be inclined to think that, in the estimation of the public, our seamen are not the descendants of those, who in Trafalgar Bay hailed with delight Horatio Nelson's signal, 'England expects that every man this day will do his duty.' This is just what Thomas Pearce did, neither more nor less. That his conduct was heroic will be readily admitted. He was not incited to do the deed by the presence of any of his countrymen. Cast ashore, apparently nobody saved but himself, almost exhausted by previous exertions, he heard a cry for help. No human eye was watching him, he could have resisted the appeal, none would have been any the wiser, and by his own conscience only would he have been blamed. He was, however, of the right grit, and, never dreaming of any public recognition or reward, he rushed again into the waves from which he had just escaped, and brought the young lady to land. The care he subsequently took of her, the undaunted spirit shown by him in scaling the precipitous cliff—all his efforts, in fact, upon the lamentable occasion; are worthy of our admiration— he performed a good and gallant deed. Fortunately he is a modest, unassuming young sailor, or the praise that has been bestowed upon him would fill him with vanity, and spoil what promises to be a noble career. But much as we may admire his conduct on the occasion, we must not allow the whole of our sympathy to be expended upon him. This would appear to be just what the public are doing, and we are glad indeed to see that they are recalled to a sense of their duty by the young sailor himself. With questionable taste, the Photographic Society wrote to Pearce 'asking him to sit for his likeness, the same to be sold for his benefit.' The reply was just such a one as any young gentleman might be expected to give—it was as follows:— 'I would be most happy to give you a sitting, but on no account to be sold for my benefit; as you must consider, sir, that no gentleman would undergo the humiliation of seeing his photograph sold for his own benefit.' Subsequently Mr. Pearce stated he was quite willing to give the Photographic Society a sitting on the condition that the picture was only sold on behalf of a fund to be called the 'Loch Ard Fund,' the proceeds of which were, to be devoted to the relief of the widows and orphans of those who had perished in the wreck. More power to the young fellow for casting any selfish interest aside, and recalling those who wish to do him so much honor to a sense of the duty they owe to the poor fellows who, after bravely battling against the elements, "went down in the ill-fated ship."

Click here to go to Under the Lino's 'Loch Ard Index'

The Minton Majolica Peacock at MAAS

In September 2019, I visited and photographed the Minton Majolica peacock on display at the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney.  My interest in this bird stemmed from the survival of an identical piece now labelled as the "Loch Ard Peacock". I have written previously about this artefact in my investigations into the wrecking of the Loch Ard in 1878.

The MAAS peacock dates to 1875 and is on display as part of the Icons: From the MAAS Collection exhibit (https://ma.as/206174).

Strangely the MAAS display indicates that one of these peacocks had been on display at the 1880-1881 Melbourne Exhibition.  That exhibition was the destination for the Loch Ard Peacock, and but I could not find any record of it making it there.

The main purpose of this post is to provide some photos of the Peacock 'conservatory ornament', a task that is not as easy at Flagstaff Hill as the Flagstaff artefact is behind glass.

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The Milton Peacock overlooking a 1928 Bugatti at MAAS.

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Tail view

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Tail detail

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Vine view

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Head detail

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Blackberry leaves

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Fungi

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Claw

An index to posts about the ship 'Loch Ard'

"Flotsam", from Gillian Lodge's 'Loch Ard' series.  Thanks Gillian for permission to use this lovely artwork on the blog.  Readers can check out her work at http://gillianlodge.com/index.html 

When I first sought to blog about the Loch Ard I thought I would be finished after three posts. I set myself a challenge to have it done in three months.  But the story has hooked me, so I am making no commitment about the final number of posts, or if I will even deem the collection finished.

However I am reorganising the blog, updating some bits, and breaking longer posts into multiple shorter ones.  Given that I can get sidetracked onto other historical matters I have decided to index the Loch Ard posts, this will allow my readers to follow this story more clearly than scrolling through the blog.

You can get a sense of some the material in the 'drafts' section of my blog by observing the not yet published material.  But as with most research you start a journey to one place and find other noteworthy stops and detours along the way.  Undoubtedly some of these discoveries will result in redaction or revision of the posts below, or perhaps new posts altogether.

Context

Loch Ard the last of the Clippers? - a stub

The Ship and her Cargo

Loch Ard - A ship and her manifest
The Loch Ard Peacock
Loch Ard's Lead Ingots
Loch Ard and the Carmichael Watch - not yet published

Events at 'Loch Ard Gorge'

The wrecking of the Loch Ard
Loch Ard - her dead and their burial
Loch Ard - salvage and looting
Eva and Tom an heroic tale from the Loch Ard

Later Events

Honouring Tom Pearce

A poem sequence

The wreck of the Loch Ard - a poem by W. S. of Blackwood.

Reflections on the Wreck of the Loch Ard by W. S. of Blackwood

Critique and response to the poem 

The question of authorship 

 

A musical tribute - not yet published

Associated writing

A rough ride on the Great Ocean Road

The Loch Ard Wreck - Eva and Tom

While at its core the Loch Ard story is a tragedy this component of that story is often portrayed as a romance and as such it captured the imagination the newspapers of the day.

In a previous blog post we interrupted the narrative at the point where Eva has been washed overboard and is holding onto a hen coup to keep afloat, and Tom has been capsized from his lifeboat.

We continue the narrative first from Miss Carmichael's perspective ...

Miss Carmichael and her two companions, finding the hen-coop very awkward to hold on to, as it was continually throwing over, left it for a spar which came near them, and on  this they floated into the entrance of the gorge, and then her two companions, fancying they could reach a rocky point near the entrance, left the spar and struck out for it, but the undercurrent carried them out to the sea. She still clung to the spar,  and was gradually drifted until a portion of her clothing caught a projecting point of the rocky side, and where fragments of it can be seen. It was then that, looking shoreward, she saw Pearce walking on the wreckage, which she mistook for rocks. She screamed out to him, and then lost consciousness, only recovering  her senses when he was half carrying, half dragging her to the cave ... for warmth and shelter.

The rescue of Eva Carmichael as seen in the dramatised re-enactment at Flagstaff Maritime Village.  This is back projected onto a screen of water from an fountain in the museums lake.  This clever show is well worth the visit.

Tom Pearce enters the surf to rescue Eva Carmichael who is holding onto the spar of a ship.

 And now from Tom Pearce's perspective ...

... the boat capsized, and Pearce states that when he again came to the surface he found himself under the boat. Here, he says, he remained for some time, as there was plenty of air, but this is a matter of doubt. At last he dived down and came outside the boat, holding on to the life-lines. He saw nothing about him but wreckage, but he also noticed that he had drifted into a gorge, and at the same moment the boat struck against the rocks at the side, and he then left her and struck out for the beach, where he arrived safely. He was then very much exhausted, and finding plenty of spirits on the beach, he helped himself to them, and also got something to eat. 

After being about an hour on the beach he heard somebody screaming out, and looking seawards he saw a young lady holding on to some wreckage and drifting through the gorge. He at once swam out to her, and getting hold of some of her clothing in his teeth, he brought her safely to land, and managed to drag her into the cave, where he cut some grass for a bed. She was then in an insensible state, and he tried to restore animation by pouring a quantity of brandy down her throat, and also by rubbing her body with the same spirit. She recovered somewhat, but appeared to have lost her senses, and was raving. Being exhausted, he lay down, and when he awakened he found her asleep, and left her to try and get assistance. 

He managed to clamber the side of the gorge, and at once coming upon horse-tracks, he followed them, and at last came upon George Ford, an employe of Mr. Gibson. Pearce told him that there was a lady in the caves wanting assistance, and at once went back to her, and Ford shortly after met Mr. Gibson, who sent him to the station for blankets, a lantern, and other articles he thought might be wanted, while he himself galloped off to the caves, overtaking Pearce on the way. 

Having scrambled down to the cliff, they went straight to the cave where Pearce had left Miss Carmichael, but she  could not be found. There was the grass that Pearce had cut  for her bed, but she had vanished. They searched every nook  and corner of the cave, but could find no trace of her, and by  this time it was dark. Ford had arrived with blankets and a  billy for boiling water, together with some coffee and a lantern.  Having lit the lantern, another and closer search was made in the cave for the young lady, but again without success. Mr.  Gibson then proceeded to the second cave, which is about 100  yards distant, and this was also closely searched, but again without success. Fears were now beginning to be entertained for the young lady's safety, as it was thought that in her  distracted state she might have destroyed herself, as they were  quite certain that unaided she could not have climbed the cliff.  They cooey'd continually to attract her attention. As after events  proved, this was the cause of the delay in finding her. Never having heard the Australian cooey before, she fancied that it  was the cry of some of the natives, and in mortal fear and trembling she concealed herself within a few yards of the search  party. As a last resource they tried to track her footsteps in the loose sand. They could see that she had left the cave, but  her steps were so light, and they had crossed and recrossed the  sand so often, that the tracks were quite confused, and at last  they were almost tempted to give up the search. There is in the gorge a single clump of dense ti-tree scrub, and as they were passing this, talking somewhat loudly, a voice was heard  among the bushes. Mr. Gibson at once rushed in, and found  the young lady, almost perished with cold and exhaustion, having  scarcely any clothes on. He took off his own coat and covered her up, and also put on her his own warm stockings and boots.  A fire was at once made from some of the wreckage, and in a very short time some hot coffee was in readiness, and a pannikin full of this with a good dash of brandy in it was given her, and this helped to revive her. She was wrapped in blankets and  placed before a large fire until she regained some little natural warmth, but Mr. Gibson plainly saw that by some means she  must be taken to the station, and not allowed to remain in the gorge all night. She was, however, incapable of helping herself up the almost perpendicular cliffs, and at last, when the buggy  arrived, the men succeeded in partly carrying her and partly dragging her to the top, and she was then driven to the home station and put to bed by Mrs. Gibson, by whom she has since been attended. 

Eva is assisted in her egress from Loch Ard Gorge by Tom Pearce and Mr Gibson.

Lets go back to the comment about the "Cooey", and Eva being terrified about aboriginal people. This part of Australia is a high density area for colonial violence toward aboriginal people, have a look at the University of Newcastle's Colonial Massacre Map, there are 11 recorded massacres in an arc around Warrnambool out to Portland, Hamilton and Colac, there are no recorded massacres of non-aboriginal people in the same arc.  One wonders what stories were told to would be immigrants about the indigenous inhabitants of this land.

Eva remained at the Gibson's homestead, Glenample, for some time recovering from her ordeal. But Glenample would not have been a quiet place in which to recover, a reporter from the Warrnambool Standard reports:

Mr. Gibson's house at Glenample has been be sieged by visitors since Monday ; every available inch of accommodation on his premises, huts, &c, has been occupied. So much so, that in the room where I the was sleeping on Wednesday night the reporters of Argus, Age and Telegraph lay together on the floor. Did ever the representatives of our three metropolitan, journals lie under the same blankets before?

Portraits of Eva Carmichael and Tom Pearce overlaid onto a scene of the Lord Ard Wreck.

Eva Carmichael returned to England / Ireland in August 1878, passage paid for by the Victorian Government (Geelong Advertiser, 11 July 1878)

Eva Carmichael departing aboard the steamer XXX.  The Australasian Sketcher with Pen and Pencil 31 Aug 1878.

By the last mail steamer from our shores 'Miss Carmichael's Departure' took place. This lady was, it will be remembered, one of the two survivors from the ill-fated ship Loch Ard, and was saved by Mr. Thos. Pearce, the only other person who escaped from the wreck. She was accompanied to the steamer by Mr. and Mrs. Gibson and several friends, and Mr. Thos. Pearce was also there to say good-bye. Miss Carmichael appeared to have quite recovered her health, but she was, naturally, much affected at having to say farewell to those who had been so kind to her in her great sorrow and distress. There was a very large crowd, principally of the fair sex, on board the mail steamer, who were present, apparently, from a desire to see the young lady.

Did they meet again? Here is one answer from the Sydney Morning Herald

Click here to go to Under the Lino's 'Loch Ard Index'

Loch Ard, her dead and their burial

Only four bodies were recovered from the wreck they were the bodies, of Mrs Carmichael (Eva's mother), Raby Carmichael (Eva's sister), Arthur Mitchell and Reginald Jones (both passengers).  They were placed in two graves, marked with capstan bars (see illustration below).  The bars were later replaced with marble headstones, which are still in place at the Loch Ard Gorge graveyard.

The missionary, Mr. McIntyre, provided pastoral service during the aftermath of the disaster, including the funeral service for the four people whose bodies were recovered.  Below are some notes of interest from his account to The Sydney Morning Herald on 14 Jun, 1878.

He quotes Eva's account of her struggle with her life belt.

One of the strings attached to my life-belt broke, and the belt shifting up and down forced my head under the water several times, which almost cost me my life.

That Reginald Jones (one of the buried men), according to Carmichael had foreboding about the journey.

We had a splendid passage, having encountered but one half-gale when west of the Cape of Good Hope. We were indulging the hope of all safely landing ; but it is remarkable that Reginald Jones had a dark foreboding of disaster. He often told me that he had a presentiment that he should never plant his foot on Victorian soil ; and I have repeatedly endeavoured to dispel his fears. His fears were more than verified, for I am afraid forty-nine have perished with him.  

He notes that Eva drew her lineage to royalty,

She informed me that her late mother was a Plantagenet, a descendant of King Henry VII., and that she is related to some of the Irish nobility.

McIntyre then later recounts this incident at that burial.

Before the lid of Mrs. Carmichael's coffin was nailed down, a countryman of my own, who seemed to have a "wee drap in his ee," said to his companion, " Here lies royal bluid, ma frien'. We dinna drap across a Plantagenet everyday; sae, let's jist tak a wee pickle o' her hair, by way o' a keepsake, ye ken." Whereupon they cut off a small portion of her hair, reverentially wrapped it up in paper, and seriously walked away with their treasure.

And further

The initials of the names were roughly carved with a penknife on the lids of their primitive-looking coffins, so that each body might be identified in the case of its being removed by friends or relatives
to other sepulture.

The Flagstaff Museum will note in it's 'strange but true signage', that the two buried Carmichaels were both keen pianists and were buried in coffins made of piano crates found on the shore after the wreck.

Headstone for Arthur Mitchell and Reginald Jones.  Loch Ard Gorge.

Headstone for Mrs Evory and Raby Carmichael, together with memorial for other family members lost in the wreck but whose bodies were not retrieved.  Loch Ard Gorge.

Three panels image showing (top) the route of the Loch Ard, reference to the sow and pigs is the old name for the twelve apostles, scene at the burial of the four bodies recovered (bottom left), the farmhouse (bottom right).
Source: The Illustrated Sydney News and New South Wales Agriculturalist and Grazier of 13 Jul 1878

Three panel image showing (left) the cave into which Mr. Pearce helped Miss Carmichael, (top right) the graves of the
four persons whose bodies were drifted ashore ; they are buried in two graves, with a capstan bar standing for sole memorial at the head of each. (bottom right), the gorge leading landward, and exhibits the scrub in which Miss Carmichael had hidden herself when found by the party searching.  Source: Australasian Sketcher 6 Jul 1878

Despite McIntyre delivering a short address at the funeral from the words—"And the sea
gave up the dead which were in it" (Rev. xx., 13), the sea proved unwilling to allow the burial of any other crew or passengers.  Some of their bodies were seen from the cliffs, and some even identified on the basis of these observations.  But conditions did not allow for the bodies to be recovered. The Article in Illustrated Sydney News and New South Wales Agriculturalist and Grazier reports:

The dead bodies have drifted into the bights and indentations west of Pearce Inlet, and all present a mutilated appearance. One stout-built bald-headed man is believed to be Dr. Carmichael, while the other is evidently that of a sailor who was transfixed by the falling mast, as a portion his bowels are protruding from the back. These bodies present a dreadful sight as they are tossed to and fro by the heavy surf ; the rags still clinging to them give the the appearance of stuffed figures most horrible to look upon. The body of the female is conjectured to be that of Mrs. Stuckey, as she was the only lady with fair hair on board the unfortunate vessel. A man from town has been living on the coast for some days engaged in looking out for the corpses of Mr. and Mrs. Stuckey and in all weathers he may be seen religiously carrying out his instructions. I am of opinion that some of the bodies have been washed into the subterranean cave known as the Blow Hole. The entrance to this cannot be observed from the land, but about 500 yards inland among the scrub there is a huge hole about fifty yard long by twenty wide, with sides running vertically down to a depth of about sixty feet. Here the sea rushes in with terrific force through the channel connecting it with the ocean, and after spending its fury against the rocky sides of the hole, passes on through another cave which penetrates further inland, but to what extent it impossible to estimate. Should any of the bodies have been washed in here, they would never be extricated. 

A telegram received subsequently states that dead bodies have been seen in this place, but they could not be recovered.

The Australian Maritime Museums Council notes that -

Some days after the wreck about 12 bodies were seen washed into a blowhole to the west of the Loch Ard wreck site. They were all covered in a ‘ghostly green glow’. (true story: the ship was carrying phosphorous matches)

These matches are listed as vesta or lucifera in the ships manifest, see my previous blog.

Cover of Australasian Sketcher showing an attempted body recovery, note the body floating in the water.
Source: Australasian Sketcher.

The following text accompanied the above image in the Australian Sketcher of 3 Aug 1878.

DESCENDING THE CLIFF. 

The attempted recovery of bodies from the wreck of this unfortunate vessel was rendered a most difficult and dangerous operation by the nature of the cliffs, which are at this part perfectly perpendicular, and at places even overhanging. The only means of getting down at such places is by being lowered over the cliffs by a rope. But it was then found to be quite impossible, while hanging by a rope over the heaving sea, to do anything towards the recovery of the body which was tossed like a broken seaweed by the wave beneath, and we believe that it was not found practicable to recover any by this means. The sketch of our artist depicts the descent of the cliff by a rope of a man who was locally known, from his odd dress, by the name of "Robinson Crusoe."

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Loch Ard wreck - salvage and looters

I assume that salvage from shipwrecks was an important consideration and for this reason the newspapers of the day published extensive manifests (see my previous blog post).  The papers then would go on to report on the likelihood of return from a salvage operation.  There was also interest in the looters or wreckers.

Miller and Matthews (who have a share with Mr. Howarth and two or three others) arrived at Cobden on Friday, 14th June, en route to the wreck. They keep a sharp look out after the wreckers, who have completely outwitted police and customs officials, and plundered cargo to an amazing extent. At the Sherbrooke River there is an open beach about half a mile long, on which much of the cargo was washed ashore, consisting principally of broken harmoniums and numberless cases of wax vestas ; also a large quantity of furniture, table tops, and other articles, but these were speedily removed
by persons who came down from Port Campbell, Scott's Creek, and other places with carts and pack horses. It is a well-known fact that hundreds of pounds' worth of goods have been conveyed away by people who honestly believed they had a perfect right to all they could lay hands upon, provided the police did not catch them. A case of toys and another of Birmingham jewellery found their way up to Cowley's Creek.

Clearly some drapery was retrieved as the Geelong Advertiser 13 July, 1878 ran salvage sales.  Such sales are a common 'hit' if one searches for "Loch Ard" on Trove.

But retrieving material from the Loch Ard was dangerous business.  The following report from The Argus was repeated in several papers.

A selector at the Gellibrand River, named [John] Borlace, is missing under circumstances that lead to the supposition that he had lost his life in endeavouring to recover wreckage on the Gellibrand beach. He left his home on Thursday morning, telling his wife he would return about 10 o'clock. His dog came home about two hours afterwards, but although every search has been made, Borlace has not been seen since. He was traced into the water at the beach, and it is supposed in endeavouring to recover wreckage he has been carried away by the drawback in the surf.

Click here to go to Under the Lino's 'Loch Ard Index'