With our Thanks, to Maggie Brown, who has transcribed the 1st part here from the Tyrone Constitution of Friday 14 May 1847
“THE WRECK OF THE “EXMOUTH.” We annex a list of the unfortunate passengers who perished in the above unfortunate vessel, with the numbers in each family and the names of the localities in which they reside, so far as could be ascertained by the agent at Derry, viz: Ballymoney. – Nancy FORGROVE, Patrick McGUEKEN and family, 5 in number; James WYLIE. Ballyshannon. – Terence and Patrick MAGUIRE. Clonmany. – John DEVLIN and family 5. Castlederg. – Margaret KEALY, 4; Ann GALLAGHER. Dungiven. – John McCONNELL, James and Isabella BOYD, James KEALY. Derry. – Letty HENDERSON. County Fermanagh. – Jane FLANIGAN and family, 8; James CALDWELL, 9; John CRAWFORD, 7. Kilmacreach. – Margaret McGETTIGAN and family, 7; Patrick KELLY, 3; John McDERMOTT, 7; William McELHENNY, 2; Edward McGETTIGAN, 6; James BRADLEY, Michael and Margaret McGINLEY, John GALLAGHER. Letterkenny. – Brian DOUNELL and family, 5. Na-Limavady. – John RIDDLES and family, 2; Matthew MILLER, Sarah MAGILL, 3; James WRIGHT, Jane HARPER and family, 7; David STEEP, 6. Omagh. – Ann ALONE. Strabane. – Hugh McCROSSEN and family, 3; John DIZON, 7; Robert BLAIR, 4; Sarah SMITH, Jas. McCREA, 10. Stranorlar. – Redmond McCOOL and family, 9. Shenreagh. – John WILSON and family, 3. The residence of the subjoined, who were also on board, are unknown to the agent in Derry: James DIVEN Owen CURRAN and family 7 Terence HILLY, 7 Patrick WOODS, 6 Bernard McCAFFREY, ? John COOLAGHAN James COCHRANE James DONAGHY Andrew TEVAIN, 6 Peter COX Patrick FEE James, Jane, and Ellen PATTERSON Patrick LEONARD, 5; Peter MUEKILHILL, 7 James McGIRR, 3 Denis BROGAN, 11 Total, 206 Extract of the shipwreck of The "Exmouth" which left Londonderry 25 April 1847; wrecked on 28th April 1847; lives lost 251 Yet think this furious unremitting gale Deprives the ship of every ruling sail; And if before it she directly flies, New ills enclose us and new dangers rise. The western coast of Scotland, like the western coast of Ireland, is jagged with rocks and bestudded with islands. The hoarse Atlantic ocean has beaten upon it during all time, and the cliffs and headlands and rocky groups, evince the sturdy fashion in which the land has stood out against the in-roads of the sea, fighting, so to speak, every inch of ground with the invader. Tourists love the western coast of Scotland for its picturesqueness and its solitary wildness. If you are an admirer of fine coast scenery, I can wish you no greater treat than to sail amongst the charming islands, that are strewed up and down this shore, and to run along sufficiently near the mainland to catch a glimpse of the purple mountains of the Highlands. Considering the dangerous character of this coast, comparatively few wrecks occur; the dangers being well known are avoided with more than usual care, and moreover they do not lie much in the track of seagoing vessels. In 1847, the poor people of Ireland were eagerly entering into that great emigration movement which has never ceased up to the present moment, and in connection with which so many disastrous shipwrecks have occurred. They bade farewell to the green Erin they loved and turned their faces to the western continent as the Israelites, departing from Egypt, turned their longing eyes to the land of Canaan. It was Sunday morning April the 25th in the year 1847. At Londonderry, - 'the famous Derry of 'prentice boy history' - there lay a brig of 320 tons. In that olden time, of which I spoke some time since, they knew more of brigs than we do. Brigs are somehow going out of fashion but a sailor will tell you that handier craft never go to sea; they are splendid seagoing ships and so obedient that they will, as sailors are fond of saying, "turn in their own length". The 'Exmouth' was a full grown specimen of her class. Upon her decks on this spring afternoon 240 emigrants were waiting the moment when the brig would be cast loose to convey them to Canada. There was a crew of eleven men only; there were the 240 emigrants; there were three young ladies on their way to join friends in New Brunswick. The emigrants were of a better class than you generally understand by the term. Small farmers who had struggled on their bit of land to obtain a competence, and tradesmen anxious to do something more than live a hand to mouth existence, had been told that the good time coming would come quickest in the land across the Atlantic. Good news had been wafted over from friends and relations who had gone before. You can imagine, therefore, how high beat the hearts of these Irish men, women, and children, as amidst the sorrow of the 'good-bye' which was at last spoken, they thought of the sunny future. The Sunday sun had not risen, when up went the sails and the "Exmouth" starting on her voyage, slowly increased the distance between the emigrants and their fatherland. A light south-west breeze bellied out the canvas, and in the afternoon, as the sun was sinking in the direction which the brig was to take, the hills of Old Ireland appeared like a light cloud in the distance and were quite lost sight of before dark. The wind had been gradually freshening, and shifting from the west to the north. It grew at length into a furious gale, and on Sunday night the poor emigrants, instead of their quiet cottages on shore, fragrant with peat smoke, found themselves confined between decks, terror-stricken at the creaking of the ship and the violence of the squalls which made the brig shiver again. On Monday the gale became stronger and the waves, after four-and-twenty hours of tempest, ran frightfully high. The "Exmouth" continually shipped heavy seas; and as each torrent thundered upon the decks, the emigrants in their despair thought their last hour had arrived. In the forenoon the long boat was un - shipped and washed away; another sea stove in the bulwarks; and lastly the lifeboat was carried away. Through the whole of Monday night the gale kept up its violence. and when Tuesday morning dawned it seemed as far as ever from ceasing. The sails were torn to pieces and blown from the ropes. The master of the brig, Captain BOOTH, was on Tuesday night, apprised of a light, of which one of the sailors caught a momentary glimpse when the brig rose to the top of a crest. Unfortunately, for himself, and the lives entrusted to his care, he considered it proceeded from an island on the north-west coast of Ireland. Approaching the light, he himself, became convinced of his error. Instead of the ample sea-room he believed he had, there lay, hard by the rocks of Islay. He was wrong in his reckoning, and fully alive to the perilous position in which his ship was placed, spared no effort to keep clear of the iron-bound shore. The men flew to the ropes, and set fresh sail, with a view to hauling the brig off. The captain. stationing himself in the maintop. looked anxiously at the land which threatened him; from this post he issued his orders to the crew. Their exertions were, however, too late to be of any use. The brig drifted surely towards land; the broken water soon seethed around her; and about half an hour after midnight of Tuesday, with some of her smaller sails standing, she dashed upon the rocks. Rebounding she returned with her full broadside exposed upon them. Once, twice, and thrice, she again struck. In the last shock the mainmast went by the board, and was carried into a deep chasm of the rocks. While the brig struck, the whole of the seamen rushed into the maintop, where the captain had, for an hour and a half been watching, and his grief was now heightened as he noticed that his son, a lad of fifteen years of age, was not amongst them. The boy had been left in his cot. Five of the crew thought they might stand a better chance of reaching land by exchanging the main for the foretop, and they put their idea into immediate action. When, therefore, the mainmast fell into the chasm, there went with it the captain and three seamen. These men, first COUTHARD, second LIGHTFORD, and third STEVENS, clung to the spar, and scrambling up the topmast rigging, secured foothold on the crags. The captain and others would have followed had not a returning wave broken upon them, washing them and the ship further into the sea. The mast might otherwise have been made a bridge of safety for the passengers. So vanished the last possibility of escape for the hapless beings who, in the howling of the storm, perished during that night. No one saw the brig break up; darkness enveloped the work of destruction which the rocks and waves were effectually carrying on. The three seamen who had escaped were the only survivors. They remained shivering in the crevice of the rock till daylight. Not a trace of the "Exmouth" was then visible; the emigrants, one, and all, had perished. At daybreak the three shipwrecked mariners clambered to the summit of the rocks, and with heavy steps sought a farm-house, to tell how of 254 living beings they alone were left to tell the tale of their loss. I need not add that by the homely, kindly Scotch folks these men were loaded with kindness. A score of bodies were afterwards washed ashore, battered by the rocks almost beyond recognition; these were the remains of some emigrants, who had probably hurried up at the striking of the brig, leaving their companions below. A few bodies were brought in occasionally by the surf, but the sea was too high to admit of their recovery, and they were carried out to be buried in the ocean depths. Transcribed by Teena from Notable shipwrecks, retold by uncle Hardy By William Senior 1881 https://books.google.ca/ -- www.cotyrone.com http://lists.cotyrone.com/mailman/listinfo/ulsterancestry https://www.facebook.com/groups/CoTyroneIrelandGenealogy/
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