Neil Hanson - The Custom of the Sea

He prepared for the voyage, laying in a plentiful supply of provisions, and started on the 19th May accompanied by a crew of two men and a boy. As he intended holding Service on board, he took prayer books and also elementary books to teach the lad who was quite ignorant. When told the boy was an orphan, he said if the lad behaved himself he would make a man of him.

On June 3rd I received a telegram from him at Madeira saying ‘All is well’. That was the last communication received until the receipt of the telegram of September 6th speaking of the accident and terrible sufferings undergone.

In the meantime, the yacht had foundered on July 5th, twelve hundred miles from the Cape. He with his companions had suffered indescribable agony in the open boat for twenty-four days and nights, the latter being the most terrible death staring them in the face, every billow threatening to engulf them, while the fear that the sharks would knock in the bottom of the boat constantly haunted them.

The very elements seemed to mock their sufferings. As he often described it, they would eagerly watch the clouds gather and seem ready to pour rain down in abundance and then while the poor sufferers in agony watched, the clouds dispersed and left them in despair. Was not that a time of delirium and fever? Poor victims to misery, can their situation be conceived? Their tongues were swollen and black. He said they were like wild animals.

Without wishing to speak slightingly of his fellow sufferers but in justice to my husband, his wonderful forethought, bravery and unselfishness were very prominent. He it was who stayed in the yacht procuring provisions until almost too late. He constructed the sea anchor with which to break the force of the huge waves and prevent them engulfing them. He cut off the bottoms of his trousers to stop the hole in the boat. He urged the men to give up a garment apiece to be used for sails and on their refusal erected all the wood that could be spared from the bottom of the boat. After constant entreaties they gave up their shirts which with his own he erected for a sail.

The men, hopeless and tortured, were bent on committing suicide but were buoyed up by him, and after the deed was committed both Brooks and Stephens grasped his hands many scores of times in the day saying he had saved their lives and how they would show their gratitude on reaching home if they ever did so.

When picked up they were as weak and helpless as infants, having to be carried to berths and nursed with wonderful skill. If not so treated they must have perished. They were on board the Moctezuma receiving all possible attention for nearly six weeks, consequently no idea could be formed of their pitiful condition at the time of rescue.

On September 6th they landed at Falmouth and Tom immediately made his deposition before the Magistrates, not palliating a single circumstance, though entreated never to divulge it. That the bravest and most honest should suffer must seem hard when one who, too cowardly to do, was not too scrupulous to share, yet could be permitted to go unpunished and then make a market out of the misery of his companions.

My husband with his companions was lodged in Falmouth Police Station where he supplied himself and his comrades with food. He returned home on September 11th on bail and had to go back again on the 17th, having to undergo an examination before the Magistrates by the Public Prosecutor.

After being summoned to Exeter to await his trial, he returned home November 6th, from then until December 4th he bore a month of suspense. At that time Winifred was attacked with congestion of the lungs and he nursed her night and day. We were doubtful of her recovery when he had to go to Holloway again to undergo another ordeal, still more trying.

On the 9th December, being sentenced to death, he was taken back to Holloway, there receiving sentence of six months imprisonment.

From September 6th to March 6th will be six months and as it is, I feel doubtful if he will ever be so strong as before. Now he is eager to leave England as soon as possible. We trust soon to settle our affairs and make a fresh start in Australia.

Although managers of public places of amusement have offered him large sums of money to induce him to exhibit himself, he has refused. The publicity and misery of the tragedy have been too painful almost for human endurance.

I beg to enclose letters for private perusals. Permit me to sign myself, Sir, I am your obedient and grateful servant. Philippa Dudley.

A Home Office official noted on the file containing the letters from Ellis Lever and Philippa: ‘It is said that he will go with his wife to Australia as soon as he is released. His wife’s letter giving an account of her anxieties etc. is very pathetic.’

Harcourt’s view remained unaltered. ‘Nil. This is a melancholy case but the sentence is a light one and cannot be altered.’

Stephens, in poor physical and mental health, had written no less than twenty-three petitions to the home secretary. The last read:

In consideration of his past troubles and the recommendations accorded him at Exeter both by the Judge and jury, he hopes he may still meet with further favour and that some portion of his unexpired sentence may be remitted.

Your petitioner prays that during the remainder of his imprisonment, he may be allowed to write and receive letters and visits from his family at more frequent intervals than are prescribed in the ordinary prison regulations. Your petitioner will ever pray…

The unsigned petition ended abruptly at that point.

Harcourt noted, ‘Granted the same privileges as regards letters and visits. Nil as to the rest of the petition.’

After the failure of their petitions, Philippa wrote to thank Ellis Lever for his efforts.

I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your favour and learn from it that all your kindly efforts on our behalf have not succeeded. I feel confident had it been possible you would have so accomplished it.

It has of course been a disappointment. I learned Mr Bates [a reprieved murderer] had been set at liberty and thought that perhaps that of Tom and his companion might follow. At any rate, his term will expire on the anniversary of the voyage that has cost him twelve months’ loss and suffering.

Under favour, I may mention that I have not been at all well but am thankful to say I am better. Again thanking you and your family for your many kindnesses which have made me more hopeful. I am, dear Sir, your obedient and grateful servant. Philippa Dudley.

Prisoners 5331 and 5332 were eventually released from Holloway on 20 May 1885, a year and a day after the Mignonette had sailed from Southampton on its final voyage.

Still bitter at his treatment, Tom left England for ever, sailing for Australia with his wife, children and one of Philippa’s sisters, on the steamer Austral . It left Gravesend on 19 August 1885 and passed the Royal Portsmouth regatta the next day, where the yacht Marguerite , with Daniel Parker restored as a crewman, was competing.

To Philippa’s relief, the Austral only retraced the Mignonette’s course as far as the Bay of Biscay, before taking the usual steamer route through the Mediterranean. It passed through the Suez Canal, and took on coals at Aden before steaming across the Indian Ocean to reach Sydney on 5 October 1885.

Tom joined his wife’s aunt in business and prospered as T. R. Dudley and Company, oilskin, sail, tent, tarpaulin and flag-makers, yacht and boat outfitters and riggers, carrying on business firstly at Clarence Street and later at 47, 49 and 51 Sussex Street, near the junction with Erskine Street. He also had a slipway to the Parramatta river in the grounds of his house in Cambridge Street, Drummoyne. By 1900 he was employing over forty people and was well known in Sydney yachting circles as a large-scale sail and tarpaulin contractor.