The Thames, from the Downs 28th May, reports the Meridian, for this port, from London, in lat. 35' 50" S , on the 29th July. Dr. Lang was a passenger by the Thames, but was unavoidably compelled to leave the vessel at Gravesend, and forfeit his passage.

SHIPPING INTELLIGENCE. (1853, September 28). The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser (NSW : 1843 - 1893), p. 2. TROVE

---

The Palembang is 117 days from England; she reports the Meridian, for Sydney, having passed through the Downs June 5th.

SHIPPING INTELLIGENCE. (1853, October 8). The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser (NSW : 1843 - 1893), p. 2. TROVE

---

THOMAS WARLTERS. - If this should meet the eye of the above-named person, who left Gravesend on the 29th April, 1852, in the Meridian for Moreton Bay, and intended to proceed to Port Macquarie, he, no doubt, will be glad to hear that his cousin, Thomas Jefferson Lloyd, has a situation in the Herald Office, where he can always hear of him.

Advertising (1853, October 11). The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954), p. 5. TROVE

---

The Meridian-This vessel sailed from England on the 3rd of June. She was spoken by the Thames on the 29th of July in lat. 35 50 S, and about the same time she was also spoken by the Gipsy Queen. As those vessels have been in port six weeks considerable apprehension as to the safety of the Meridian has been entertained, and we regret to find that those fears have not been groundless. All the information we have at present is contained in a letter from one of the passengers to his brother, a gentleman residing in Sydney, dated Mauritius September 28.
The following is an extract: "The Newspaper I have sent tells a sad tale. We have lost everything but our trunks are insured for £350. Our sufferings have been fearful. A vessel leaves for Port Phillip to-day. I will write again as soon as posilble. We are very comfortable here; the people are kind beyond description. We will leave for Sydney us soon as possible. We are all recovered and in good health.
Kind respects to all. I will write you all particulars." The newspaper mentioned above has not yet arrived. Besides a number of other passengers, there was the Rev. Mr. Voller and family, a gentleman who is coming out as the pastor of the Baptist Church in Bathurst-street; Mr. Robert Anderson, a brother of Mr. James Anderson, of Queen's-place, with his family, was also on board.

SHIPS' MAILS. (1853, November 15). The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954), p. 2. TROVE

---

Loss OF THE SHIP MERIDIAN, FROM LONDON TO SYDNEY.
The Captain of the Franklyn, thirty-eight days from the Mauritius, "reports the loss of the Meridian, bound from London to Sydney, on a reef of rocks on the south-west part of the island of Amsterdam, on the 24th of last August. Her commander, Hernaman, Thomas George, Cook, and a Swiss passenger named Pfan, were washed from the deck, and drowned. On the 29th August, the passengers and crew, consisting of twenty-nine chief cabin, fifty-eight second cabin passengers, including children, and the officers and crew, amounting to twenty-one, were relieved by Captain Ludlow, of the American whaling ship Monmouth, whose conduct towards the sufferers was highly spoken of and appreciated, and who landed them all in safety at the Mauritius.

NEWS OF THE WEEK. (1853, November 19). Illustrated Sydney News (NSW : 1853 - 1872), p. 2. TROVE

---

WRECK OF THE MERIDIAN.
As many persons in Sydney are variously interested the calamitous wreck of the Meridian, on her passage from London to this port, and as no full account of the disaster has yet been published in the colony, we extract from a Mauritius paper, October 18th, the following particulars, with a correct list of the names of all the passengers.
We have to report a most destructive shipwreck, which has occurred on the Island of Amsterdam, whereby the British barque Meridian, of and from London to Sydney, and her cargo, have been totally lost. News of the disaster was brought here by the American whaler Monmouth, which picked up the whole of her crew and passengers who were on the Island, amounting to one hundred and five in all. We regret to state that her captain, cook, and a Swiss passenger named Pfau, were drowned.
The greatest sympathy has been excited here by the distressed condition of the passengers, who have lost their all ; and the most laudable exertions are being made for their relief. A meeting of the shipwreck passengers has been held since their arrival here at which resolutions were passed expressing their grateful sense of the noble and humane conduct of their preserver, Captain Ludlow, of the Monmouth, as well as of the generosity with which they have been treated by the Government and people of the Island. A large sum has been subscribed in their aid; and the Chamber of Commerce have contributed about £130, to be remitted to London by Messrs. Bligh, Brothers, and Co., the agents of the Monmouth, for the purpose of procuring a piece of plate, with a suitable inscription, which will be forwarded to Captain Ludlow's family, in America, as a mark of their appreciation of his brave and generous conduct, in rescuing so many of our unfortunate countrymen from a horrible death.

We refer to the following extract from the Mauritius Reporter, of the 1st instant, for particulars of the wreck, &c. :- " The English barque Meridian, of London, of 570 tons register, on her voyage from London to Sydney, struck on a rock on the S.W. end of the Island of Amsterdam, at about 7 p.m. on the 24th August, 1853. The vessel went to pieces almost immediately after she struck ; and it is miraculous that, under such circumstances, we should have to deplore the loss of only three human beings. There are : Captain Herneman (late commander of the Meridian), Mr. Pfau (a Swiss passenger), and Thomas George, the cook.

"Amsterdam is an arid and desert island, the only vegetation upon it being wild cabbages and a species of reed resembling the bamboo. Providentially enough, an abundance of pure and fresh water existed near the spot where the wreck occurred. Had this not been the case it is frightful to contemplate the horrors that must have ensued. The unfortunate passengers and crew, among whom there were 17 women and 41 children, passed six days on these almost barren rocks, sheltered only by a temporary canvas tent constructed of a sail that had been saved from the wreck ; and they were beginning to experience all the sufferings of famine, when, to their inexprcesible joy, they observed the white sails of a ship. The most agonising anxiety sprung up amongst them, lest their signals of distress should not be perceived ; but it was not of long duration, for they speedily observed that the vessel was bearing down upon the island, and that their signals had been understood. This vessel proved to be the American whaler Monmouth, Captain Ludlow.

Relief, although now certain, could not, however, be immediately tendered, on account of the dangerous and inaccessible nature of the coast at the point where the wreck occurred. Captain Ludlow signalled them that they must pass over to the other side of the island before he could render them any assistance. Then commenced a series of privations and dangers of which no one who was not an actual sharer in them, can form any conception. The almost impenetrable nature of the reeds which cover the island rendered it an undertaking as difficult as it was dangerous to accomplish, it being necessary to pass over on the extreme edge of the precipitous cliffs which surround the island. After a journey of three days they succeeded in reaching the part of the coast indicated by Captain Ludlow, who himself, through prevalence of unfavourable weather, had been compelled to make a tour of the island, and had been more than once blown out to sea before he could reach the spot which he did on the fourth day after first discovering the shipwreck.

"Arrived on board the Monmouth, the most humane and cordial reception it is possible to conceive was given to these people, nor can they speak of it without being affected to tears. As our readers are aware, the Monmouth safely reached this port in the evening of the 26th ultimo, after a passage of 17 days from Amsterdam Island.

" The Chamber of Commerce, vieing with the Masonic Lodges, with the Government, and with the beneficence of private individuals, for whose noble generosity we have too much respect to wound their feelings by blazoning their names in print—each and all of these will offer a suitable testimonial of their admiration and gratitude to this brave and generous sailor. The British Government, and the Royal Humane, and other similar societies in England, will also doubtless recompense this noble salvage of priceless humane freight. But there is a monument raised to Captain Ludlow, which, in our estimation, and we believe we may say in his also, is above all others in price. That monument is erected in the grateful memories and in the hearts of one hundred and five of his fellow-creatures, whom he has saved from almost certain destruction. So long as they live, those one hundred and five human beings will not cease to bless his name. When they shall have gone to their last long home, and repose beneath the sod of the valley, whether in their native or a foreign land, their children and their children's children, will invoke the blessings of Heaven upon him and his; and when this same Captain Ludlow shall himself embark upon that long voyage which leads to the "bourne from whence no traveller returns," his epitaph will have been already prepared, it will be simple and grand, like everything which is beautiful and true. It will be this:—To the memory of Captain Ludlow, an American citizen! He saved from certain death one hundred and five human beings!'

" Memoranda of the wreck of the barque Meridian, of London, on the Island of Amsterdam: "Soon after dark, during a gale from S.W., the ship ran right under the cliff. On bumping the second time, every cabin between decks to leeward fell down, and the ship's bottom on that side was out.

" Under the advice of Mr. Leonard Worthington, one of the mates, whose bearing and cool judgment were beyond all praise, we remained between decks about two hours and a half, supporting as many of my infants in my arms as I could grasp, and holding them up to windward out of the way of the wreck that was washing about between decks, the water at times reaching my shoulders, the ship reclining over at an angle of forty-five degrees or thereabouts. Mother and children calm and still; never dreaming that we should live the night through.

" When it became evident to Mr. Edward Tullock, the second mate of the barque, and to Mr, Worthington, that the vessel must part amidships, they came between deck, and, with the assistance of Charles Snow, one of the seamen, got all the women and children up into the cuddy.
Here we remained, under their advice, and guided by their cool judgment of the strength of the poop of the ship, until daybreak; when these gallant fellows commenced, and during the intervals between the seas, succeeded in getting off and over the wreck to the base of the cliffs, all the passengers who had remained under their advice in the cuddy. A few minutes after all had got from the lower deck, the ship parted, and all but the weather topsides of the once fine barque Meridian, was ground into splinters, and for the most part carried by the draw-back out to sea.

"All our children, of whom I had eight, one of them an infant at the mother's breast, were naked, but God in His mercy provided for us a bale of red surge shirts, part of the cargo, and which, thrown up under the ledge of rocks under the cliff, saved the poor infants from perishing the first night—colder than an English winter's night, and the spray flying right over us. We could not have lived but for this providential supply.

" Once under the cliff, our next serious consideration was, how far the tide rose. A few hours relieved our anxiety, and we felt we were beyond the tide. Three days after, the tide and sea rose over the ledge of rocks that first shattered us; and none of us, had we then remained under the cliff, could have ever troubled the generous and warm-hearted inhabitants of Mauritius for all the kindness we have received from them. May God bless them and preserve them from ever encountering the dangers we have escaped !

" The interval of time between the landing under and the ascent of the cliff, we passed in picking up such things as would serve to sustain life; and the entire quantity secured would have kept us, at the rate of half a biscuit daily, about two weeks.

" Once on the top of the cliff, our first care was to erect a flag-staff and signal; and on Monday, the 29th August last, we wept for joy at seeing a barque which we afterwards found to be the Monmouth, standing to windward of the Island. It blew a gale and rained, and we feared they would not see us. But they did; and when Captain Ludlow dipped his ensign, we knew we were saved if we could only hold out until the gale ceased. All that day, and the next, Captain Ludlow could barely hold his own, much less help us. But on Wednesday, the 31st August, he managed to land one of his crew, Wm. Smith, on the Island, with directions to find us out, and lead us to the only landing place on the Island—which none but a whaler would know,—telling him to cheer us up as best he could, and to reassure us that he would, on the first chance, take us off. Strong gales, however, set in again Immediately after Smith's landing, and again was the Monmouth blown to sea; and, to the great anxiety and grief of her gallant Captain, he could not regain the land until Monday the 5th September.

"During the interval from the 31st August to the day of our reaching the landing place, besides the great labour of our journey across the mountains, which had to be traversed on the extreme edge of the cliff, affording a foot-hold -- 'As dangerous As to o'er-walk a torrent roaring loud On the unsteadfast footing of a spear,' we suffered all the pressure of famine, and, during the last part, want of water.

" During a brief lull of the usual squalls that prevail in this bad-weather region, Captain Ludlow embarked us all in the style of an accomplished seaman, and when we were once on board, doing all kindness in the kindest possible manner, he did everything his head and heart could suggest. The limited means and inventory of a whaler's outfit alone placed any bounds to his efforts and wishes for our recovery.

"I was wrecked a strong man in all respects, Captain Ludlow received me with about the strength of an infant. But he has landed me here again as strong as ever, and, although heavily chastened and humbled, I trust a better man."

"We find much pleasure in stating that the Mr. Worthington mentioned in the preceding narrative is by birth a Creole of this Island, and is the son of Captain Worthington who was for many years a respected resident here. From information we have received from other sources, his conduct as well as that of the 2nd mate, Mr. Tullock, and of the seaman Charles Snow, throughout the above melancholy catastrophe, was beyond all praise. We therefore signal them for special honourable, mention by the Managing Committee of the Subscription Fund in the report which they will feel called upon to make to Government and the Public.

" The following is a correct list of the passengers and officers of the ill fated barque Meridian:—Passengers Mr. and Mrs. Guyton, 3 children, and female servant, Mr. and Mrs. Baxter and 4 children, Mr. Riboulet, and Mr. Delaporte, (French,) Mr. and Mrs. Voller and 3 children, Mrs. Herneman (the Captain's widow) and child, Mr. Lutwyche, Mr. Newbolt, Mr. and Mrs. (Dr.) Nutt and child, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson and 8 children, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, 7 children, and female servant, Mrs. Robertson, Mr. Christian Ried (German,) Mr. and Mrs. Moore, Mr. and Mrs. Stacey, Mr. and Mrs. Medcalf and 6 children, Mr. and Mrs. Scoltock and 3 children, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson and child, Miss Mackenzie, Messrs. Heitz (German) and Dansler (Swiss), Mr. Armstrong, Mr. Dehan (French,) Messrs. Taylor, Burrell, Gande, Belward, Pell, Seaton and Pratt, Mr. and Mrs. Morris and 4 children. OFFICERS—Mr. Lambert, Chief Officer, Mr. Tullock, Second Mate, Mr. Worthington Third Mate.

WRECK OF THE MERIDIAN. (1853, December 13). Empire (Sydney, NSW : 1850 - 1875), p. 2. TROVE

---

On the 21st. off Cape Otway, and bound for Melbourne, the ship Thomas Colvin, from Mauritius, with the crew and passengers of the wrecked barque Meridian.

MANILA. (1853, December 28). The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954), p. 4. TROVE

---

SHIPWRECK OF A MISSIONARY WITH HIS WIFE AND FAMILY

Mr. J. Voller, late of Tipton, in Staffordshire, and formerly of Manchester, embarked for Sydney, on June 4 of last year (1853), with his wife and their young family; having been invited to succeed the late Mr. Ham, as pastor of the church in Sydney. In a letter to the Nonconformist, dated Port Louis, Mauritius, Oct. 6, 1853, Mr. Voller thus describes the perils to which they were exposed.

Dear Sir,—Presuming a brief narrative of the wreck of the fine barque Meridian, Captain Hernaman, on its way from London to Sydney with passengers and cargo, will be interesting to most of your readers, and for the additional reason that your paper circulates through almost the entire circle of my most intimate friends, I hasten to send it, in hope that you will give it insertion in your earliest number after coming to hand.

On the evening of the 4th of June, we started from Gravesend, having on board 107 persons in all. Up to the night of the wreck, our progress was, on the whole, good: especially till off the Cape of Good Hope, beyond which we had some rough weather —a succession of sudden, heavy squalls, with one or two smart gales. Nothing of any note had occurred, except on the night of -----, the day we crossed the line, when an alarm of fire was raised, which, for a few minutes appeared to be too well founded, and, consequently, threw us into a state of indescribable consternation; but the cause being found to be harmless, the excitement subsided almost as rapidly as it arose. The terrible catastrophe I have now to relate occurred on the evening of the 24th of Aug., on the Island of Amsterdam, in the centre of the Indian Ocean. For many hours before, the wind had blown stiffly from the south west, and the course we had steered up to about half an hour before the wreck was E. by S., when an order was given to go East. This undoubtedly was fatal to us ; had our former course been preserved, we should have cleared the island, although we must have been much too near such a dangerous place. Without venturing an opinion as to the cause of the melancholy event, I may say it was not by stress of weather; for, strong as the wind was, our ship would have maintained her course under much heavier weather; a finer vessel could not be sent to sea. Our danger was greatly increased by the mistiness of the evening. The island rises very abruptly from the sea, and a dense cloud enveloped it, so that it had the appearance, at a distance, of a heavy squall, and for such, alas!

it was mistaken by the second mate, who, on leaving his watch at six o'clock, said, to his successor, " There's a tremendous squall a-head; you had better keep a sharp look out." Had this caution been heeded, it might have been much better for us. At that moment there were but few steps betwixt us and death; yet all was comparatively peaceful below; we were regaling ourselves with tea, not more discomposed than, from the heavy lurching of the ship, we had for some hours previously been. Towards seven, preparation was made for putting the children to bed ; and, while attending to this, a furious battery commenced without; wave after wave, with unwonted violence and rapidity, struck the ship, and considerable quantities of water were taken in. Still, however, we dreamt not of our peril, and were proceeding with our engagement, when, suddenly, there was a tremendous shock from beneath, which made the vessel quiver from stem to stern, like a reed in the wind. Another, and another, and another, quickly followed, knocking every thing about with great violence, and accompanied with crashing sounds, as though we were in the jaws of some huge monster. With every shock the ship sunk, until it became fixed on the rocky bed from which it scarcely moved afterwards until completely smashed to fragments. It will be kind not to attempt to excite sympathy with the experience of those fearful moments were it possible to do so. My own presence of mind, and that of my dear wife, was mercifully preserved, but a consciousness of our nearness to Amsterdam, and the knowledge of its character we had gained from conversations with the captain about it, left us no room to doubt where we were, and as little to hope for escape. Destruction appeared inevitable; and gathering our little ones around us, after committing ourselves into the hands of the infinitely wise and gracious God, we took mutual embraces, and waited, as calmly as we could, our fate—expecting, momentarily, to be engulfed in the devouring waters.

Such a fate, however, we were graciously spared; and the lapse of time gave the hope, not only that we should not sink, but that, if the ship would only hold together long enough, we might get ashore. To this, of course, my first attention was directed, but was at once told that any such attempt then would result in certain death; and that the only hope was in remaining within until the storm had abated, or till the light returned. This soon became the general hope, and hence quitting the cabins on the lee side of the ship, all made for the saloon, and taking up the best position obtainable, awaited the issue. Huddled together in the deepest anxiety, there we remained, for nine, some for ten and twelve hours, listening to the howling tempest, and witnessing the gradual demolition of our frail shelter, the water pouring in at the broken skylights, and every joint loosening gradually, until it appeared certain we must be crushed beneath the falling deck. About twelve at night the ship parted at the mainmast, the fore part was soon in splinters, and washed on the shore; the after part, however, having been built of the strength of a castle, held together, not only through the night, but for two or three days after.' The mainmast fell almost unimpaired, and in such a position as to form a sort of bridge from the saloon door to the beach, and thus providentially aided our escape. The moon began to lend a little light to the scene of horror about half-past two, and immediately efforts were made to reach the shore. The third mate, aided by one of the seamen, formed a connection between the saloon and the fallen mast by ropes, and commenced the removal of women and children: in time the deliverance of all was effected with no other injury than a few scratches and bruises, occasioned by the surges knocking the poor fugitives against the rocks, and scattered fragments of the ship. The scene that presented itself to each as he left the ship, baffles conception. It was surely the very perfection of the terrible. The change, of course, was eagerly sought, but was no sooner realized than accompanied by the most fearful forebodings. It seemed hut an unfortunate exchange of fates; what had been threatened by a momentary process in the saloon seemed there to await with all the aggravation of a lingering and more painful process. The margin betwixt the sea and the highest standing point to be gained was very narrow, and the tide seemed to be gradually encroaching, whilst above and around, right and left, as far as the eye could reach, a perpendicular cliff, from 150 to 200 feet high, arose, casting over us its forbidding shadow. Wet through, cold, and in many instances all but naked, there our unfortunate companions gathered in little parties, presenting a complete contrast to the comfort and respectability of appearance which had marked all hut a few hours before. The morning light came faithfully enough, no doubt, but it seemed to tarry long, and when it came, did but little to relieve our sorrows. During all that had occurred, however, a gracious Eye had been cognizant of our distresses, and soon the proofs of providential care were displayed. With returning hunger, food was laid at our feet, and for our thirst, water from out the rock was discovered; whilst, in a few hours, to comfort the exposed, warm clothing in the shape of red and blue Jersey frocks, ready-made trousers, boys' jackets, and large pieces of flannel were cast upon the beach, and in such profusion as to supply all; but for this supply, many most speedily have perished from the inclemency of the weather.

On that spot we remained in imminent risk the first two days and nights; a risk shown by the fact, that scarcely had we removed before the sea rose above our highest resting-place, and swept almost every thing away. We cannot omit to notice the goodness of Him who gives to the sea its decree, and who, during our temporary abode there, had said to it, " Thus far shalt thou go, but no farther." By Saturday, means were provided to scale the cliff, and the attempt was made. One of our number had found his way up and down again, at a distant point, though it nearly cost him his life. After him, two others ascended, carrying ropes, which were suspended from a crag, and by means of which the top was gained. It was a tedious and dangerous work, occupying nearly a day and a half. The scene above was scarcely more cheering than that below. Sea birds appeared to be sole possessors of the place, and most unwilling to be disturbed. A thick jungle of reeds, six, eight, and ten feet high, covered the surface. Water was the only thing found useful to man. True, a few young birds were scorched to death by setting fire to the jungle, and of which soup was made, serving us for a partial meal, but nothing more. Our only sustenance was supplied by the wreck, which was not only very limited in quantity but much deteriorated in quality, having been soaked with salt water. At most, we saved hut about six days' provisions, dealt out in quantities just sufficient to sustain life. More, undoubtedly, might have been saved, but for the indiscretion and brutal selfishness of our crew generally, who, instead of generously assisting the passengers, of whom, so many were women and helpless children, were either drunk, or bent upon plunder. Nearly the whole of the wreck lay on the beach for four or five days, but was then washed out to sea, leaving us nought but the bare rocks. It then became evident to all that our only chance of life was in being shortly taken off by some ship: but who could hope for any ship to come near such a place, while boundless sea-room invited them to avoid its dangers! And suppose one should come, what could be done for us ? No boat in the world could make the shore ; any attempt at our rescue would probably augment the disaster; or supposing that practicable, what ship could receive so many, or find provision till we could reach the nearest port? All hope, except in the power and goodness of God, was cut off; to Him alone could we look, and to Him, I know, some did look in a prayerful and resigned spirit, and He in return looked upon us with paternal pity. In time deliverance came by the only practicable means.

The Saturday, Sunday, and part of Monday, were past in the deepest solicitude, our condition becoming most painful from excessive fatigue, hunger, cold, and sleeplessness. About midday on Monday the first signal of hope was given. The cry was suddenly raised, "A ship, a ship, a ship;" and so frantically by my dear wife, who first saw it, as to frighten all the children around her. It spread through the camp with incredible rapidity; and instantly every one that could make for the cliff seized hold of anything that would serve for a signal of distress, and then waited in intensest anxiety, watching the course of the vessel. It bore towards ns, and anxiety gave way to an indescribable joy—a joy which reached the highest end arable pitch, when our signal was answered. It was not of long duration, however, for no sooner were our signals answered', than the ship was blown out to sea, and we saw no more of it till the Wednesday morning. Then our spirits were again revived by the appearance of a boat, well manned, making towards us; having approached sufficiently near, the crew beckoned to us to follow them round the island, as it was impossible for them to render us the smallest help there.

The ship turned out to be a whaler, the Monmouth, of Long Island, N. A., Captain Isaac Ludlow. It had but then arrived to whale round the island. The Captain had spent the previous season these, had become acquainted with every crevice round the place, and, fortunately, well knew the only two points where very occasionally a lauding_ might be effected. The order to follow was soon obeyed, too soon, as in many instances it turned out to be; for, supposing the distance comparatively short, and being ignorant of the difficulties of the way, we set off with little or no provision, and paid most dearly for it. The distance in a direct line, and on level ground, would not have been much, not more than from six to seven miles. It required the boatmen but one short hour to row to us round the skirts of the land, but to us it was a journey of three or four days, walking almost incessantly from sunrise to sunset. Steep crags, deep ravines, pitfalls, jungle, and loose fragments of rock seemed in combination to defeat our purpose, and were outmatched by an instinctive love of life only. At night we lay on the cold ground, with the best shelter we could Cud amongst rocks or reeds, and had to brave some of the most pitiless storms of rain and hail. On the morning of the third day, we set oft', jaded almost beyond endurance, with nothing to sustain five of us but a few nuts and raisins, at most half a pint in all, a red herring, and some water, besides some small tine grass, occasionally met with on our way; and we reached not the new encampment until dusk, just in time to select a place to lie down upon, and give ourselves to the repose our circumstances would afford. We shall know henceforth what it is to have heard sinking children cry for water and bread, and to see them lay hold of anything likely to afford them food, and devour it with an incredible eagerness.

On returning with the boat, Captain Ludlow put one of his men ashore to encourage and direct us, and intended landing provision also; but in this he was defeated, for a gale sprung up which all but prevented him gaining his ship, and obliged him to put to sea, and leave his man to share our privations. And this he did for nearly five days, for it was not till the Monday following the ship could reach the island again. The hope of finding provision on arriving at the end of our weary march sustained us greatly, but a bitter disappointment ensued. There was provision, however, though very different to that looked for, and which served to sustain life till our relief came. In a sheltered corner of that part of the island some cabbage seed had at some time been strewn, probably by some whalers, and had borne its crop; and though it was but just then sprouting, the old thick stalks and the veiny parts of the young leaves afforded us nourishment, and on these, eaten raw, with a dozen or two of limpets picked from the rock on the beach, we subsisted. How singular and merciful a providence! Without it our condition must have been inconceivably more horrible.

The Monday morning, the twelfth day after the wreck, brought deliverance. The weather was fine, wind calm and favourable, and the sea smooth. The Monmouth was seen approaching steadily from the earliest light, and about eleven she was alongside. Three boats were instantly sent ashore, manned by as gallant and generous fellows as ever pulled an oar. The captain led the way, and with incredible velocity they skimmed towards us. On landing the noble captain hastened to our camp, and with both hands stretched out, bailed us with the affection of a father; and we in turn, with hearts all but bursting with gratitude, responded to his kindness, more by tears than words. Not a moment was to be lost. " To the boats," was the cry, and to the boats all hastened; and, in course of two hours, all, except one or two who had- not arrived across the island, were safely on board the ship. Of these was one poor fellow whose foot was so bad that he could not walk, and whom there was no chance of saving but by sending men over the island to carry him, and this the captain generously did. He declared that so long as he had a pound of bread left in his ship, he would not leave a I living soul on that island. Four men were I sent to bring the cripple on board, and it cost a delay of four days to accomplish the task; but at length all were shipped, and we bade a glad farewell to the place which had threatened to become our tomb.

We had fallen into good hands, and all our subsequent intercourse with Captain Ludlow served but to strengthen his claim on our gratitude and esteem. Fortunately, the Monmouth was well provisioned. A fresh supply of water had recently been shipped; and, notwithstanding so many stomachs had to be satisfied, there was enough food, without stinting any, to serve for thirty days or more. Our voyage to the Mauritius occupied seventeen days, which, though long from light winds and calms, was especially valuable in restoring us to health and vigour. On our arrival here, with the exception of one or two cripples, we were all in tolerable health. Of course, it was not unnatural to entertain a little anxiety as to the reception with which we should meet on landing, particularly by those who, like myself, had escaped with life only, and were absolutely penniless; and, to make the best of it possible, a deputation was appointed from among the passengers to seek an immediate interview with the governor, and to take measures for bringing our distressed condition before the public. This, however, turned out but a light job. Our arrival was soon known, and as soon was a spirit of generous sympathy awakened which will do honour ever after to the Mauritians. Our appearance on landing, most of us being clothed in our red Jersey frocks, was striking, though as wretched as it was conspicuous. Many were instantly taken by merchants and others to their homes, and washed, fed, and clothed; whilst, for the general reception, the quarantine station, being then unoccupied, was opened. Thither food, clothing, bedding, &c. &c, were quickly forwarded, and everything done that could be for the comfort of the unfortunate company. From the government, as well as the inhabitants of all grades, the most prompt and generous treatment has been received, so that to all we feel ourselves under obligation we shall never be able to discharge. In addition to large supplies of food, clothing, &c, subscriptions are being raised, which, it is confidently expected, will amount to upwards of £1000, and which, together with a free passage to Sydney, will place the sufferers beyond want till their destination is reached. It affords pleasure to say that the conduct of Captain Ludlow and crew are highly appreciated generally, and that, both from the government and more private sources, they will receive some substantial tokens of admiration.

Much might be said respecting our esteemed captain of the Meridian. Doubtless, heavy censures would have fallen upon him had he survived, and may do even now he is gone. I am indisposed, however, to cast any. Up to the fatal hour he enjoyed the fullest confidence and esteem of his passengers; and if by any one he is deemed guilty of indiscretion, let it be remembered be was the first to pay the highest penalty that could be exacted for it. It is with a sort of grateful sorrow we have to record the loss of two others, the cook and a passenger named Pfan, a foreigner, both washed away soon after the ship struck. So small a loss of life under such fearful circumstances, and with so many females and young children, is little short of the miraculous. An allusion has been made before to the conduct of the crew generally. To the censure then passed an exception is deserved on behalf of the second and third mates, Mr. Edward Tullock and Mr. Leonard Worthington, and also a sailor, Charles Snow; but especially the latter two. On the night of the wreck they were instrumental in rescuing the passengers, having carried out all the children, and aided essentially all the females. But for their generous and persevering efforts, it is to be feared the list of the lost would have been considerably larger. Of the rest, with very trifling distinctions, the less said the better. Never was a greater contrast exhibited than be'wixt the spirit and conduct of the crews of the Meridian and Monmouth respectively. But enough; I feel you will deem this letter too long already ; therefore I close, expressing the earnest hope that, to those entrusted with cargoes of human beings to our Australian colonies, our fate may be a warning, and induce them to keep far enough off the Island of Amsterdam.

email from Di

---