1852 – Apr 20, storm, Brit bark Josepha hits outer bar off Highland Light, No. Truro, MA–18
Compiled by Wayne Blanchard; last edit 8-14-2024 for upload to: http://www.usdeadlyevents.com/
— 18 Colonial Sense. New England Weather. “Storm of April, 1852.” [Transcription of Perley.]
–16 of 18 crew
— 2 would-be rescuers
— 18 Gloucester Journal ~5 June 1852. Transcribed in Mariners and Memorials.
–16 of 18 crew
— 2 would be rescuers
— 18 Perley. “The Strom of April 1852.” Historic Storms of New England. 1891, p. 320.
–16 of 18 crew
— 2 would-be rescuers
— 18 Provincetown Advocate ~ 24 April 1879. Transcribed in Mariners and Memorials.
–16 of 18 crew
— 2 would be rescuers
–~15 Mariners and Memorials. “John Cawsey, died 1852.” Accessed 8-14-2024.
–about 13 crew
–2 would-be rescuers
— 15 Worcester Journal ~13 May 1852. Transcribed in Mariners and Memorials.
–13 of 15 crew
— 2 would-be rescuers
Narrative Information (listed alphabetically):
Gloucester Journal ~5 June 1852. Transcribed in Mariners and Memorials:
“The Wreck of the Josepha, of This Port
“We extract from the New York Tribune the following account of this melancholy catastrophe, an abridged account of which appeared in our impression on the 15th ult.
“The barque Josepha, of Gloucester, England, Captain Cawsey, left Bristol on the 19th of March, 1852, with a cargo of railroad Iron, whitelead, skins, &c. bound for Boston. Her crew, all told, consisted of 18 persons, and all young men. Up to the day of the wreck she had a short and prosperous voyage, and made Cape Anne Light at twelve o’clock on Monday night, April 19. The night being thick and foggy, and an easterly gale blowing, the captain stood off on a south-easterly course, and, when he judged himself far enough out, tacked, and ran in, intending to make Cape Cod and so up the bay. The fog was extremely thick. The vessel had approached the coast so nearly that in tacking, after sounding and finding fifteen fathoms, the ship was on the edge of the breakers, and struck upon the outer bar, about half a mile to the northward of the Highland Light, Cape Cod. This was about three o’clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, April 20. She probably struck her bows first, then heeled off, and lay on her beamends, and, after a few seas had struck her, which, after a long easterly storm, run with fearful violence on the outer bar, her starboard quarter broke off. In the meantime the pinnace had been got out, and lowered from the starboard side, but this boat, as well as the longboat, was instantly stove and swept off by the violence of the seas. Her decks now gave way from the stem to the foremast; her main and mizenmast went overboard, and her larboard side fell in on the railroad iron with which she was freighted. She was six years old, of about 600 tons burden, built chiefly of larch and other north country wood, in a heavy and substantial mode, and ironed with heavy braces, iron knees, and other iron fastenings, which, added to the enormous weight of the railroad iron in her, made her almost a complete anchor in herself; yet such was the terrible force of the sea that runs on the outer bar, she was carried over that and brought up on the inner bar.
“In this situation she lay, so thick was the fog, without any one on her seeing the shore, or been seen from it, though only about three hundred yards distant, until about five o’clock, the sea making a breach over her, when three boys who were walking the beach, the fog now lifting a little, saw her, and proceeded to the Highland Light and informed Mr. Hamilton, the keeper of the light, of the fact. The cries of persons were also heard from the wreck. The keeper of the light got out the articles belonging to the Humane Society, such as life-preservers, Indiarubber coats, caps, and one of the rockets deposited at the light for the purpose of throwing a rope from the shore to the vessel, and went down to the beach opposite the bark, where the people from Pond Village, in Truro (about one mile from the beach) were soon assembled. The men could be plainly seen clinging to the larboard side of the ship, and their cries for assistance are described as being heartrending beyond all imagination, the spray flying over the foremast, which was still standing. The people of Truro are distinguished for their hospitality to strangers, and their sympathy with those in distress, and the only feeling was to render assistance to the persons on board. But it was plain that not only must succour be speedy, but it could be of no ordinary kind. The lifeboat of the Humane Society for this town is kept in a boat house about one mile from the spot where the ship struck, and preparations were now made to bring this up to the spot, and also to fire the rocket.
“In the meantime, at about seven o’clock, two men from Pond Village, in Truro, Jonathan Collins and D. H. Cassity, both young, the latter 23 years of age, and the former about 35, procured a fisherman’s dory, so called, belonging to the lighthouse, and avowed their intention to peril their own lives in an attempt to save the unfortunate men exposed before their eyes to immediate death. The resolve was a most hazardous one, and experienced persons present entreated them not to go. When a heavy sea is running on the outer bar the in-shore surf is a little diminished, and there was little doubt, as every Cape Codman is a master of his boat, that their frail dory could be successfully launched, and carried over the shore wave; but as after an easterly storm, long continued, the current at this point sweeps with irresistible violence to the north, and the sea was making a breach over the vessel, it was considered certain death to approach the eddy, near the ship; in spite of all remonstrance, however, these heroic young men went off through the surf, and approached within about 15 yards of the barque, near enough to speak to those on board, when the dory capsized instantly “like a basin,” to use the expression of a bystander, and nothing more was seen of the two men in her.
“The rocket for throwing a rope over the vessel was now got ready as, the lifeboat had been brought down, the plan being in such cases to get a line to the ship, if possible, then to ply between the shore and the vessel in the lifeboat. The rocket has a much larger stick than the common rocket, to which a line is attached, and a heavy charge to carry it a sufficient distance. It was now fired by Samuel Small, jun. and G. T. Lewis, when the charge exploded and burst the chamber, instead of carrying the rope to the ship, thus endangering the lives of those who fired it, as well as the bystanders, the stick going over the bank to the leeward. It was almost a miracle that no lives were lost by the explosion of the iron chamber, when the amount of the charge is considered and the immediate vicinity of the persons.
“It was evident now that nothing more could be done from the shore, unless the lifeboat could be got off. But it was evident, after the experiment with the dory, which had ended fatally, that the attempt would be in every probability perfectly unsuccessful – the only hope of safely carrying off a lifeboat being by the aid of a rope from the vessel. The lifeboat at North Truro is a large and heavy boat, and difficult to manage in the inshore surf, where facility of execution is indispensable, and one half moment’s delay might sweep off boat and crew, and, as it was now dark and breezing up, no further attempts could be made to communicate with the vessel.
“Fires were built on the shore to show the unfortunate persons on board that they were not forgotten, and companies formed to walk the beach. The awful cries of the crew for aid, and the cracking of the large timbers as the ship finally broke up, were heard at a house about half a mile from the beach, in spite of the terrible surf, which crashed like the heaviest thunder on the echoing shore, and the remorseless beating of the tempest.
“At about 11 o’clock the lightkeeper returned to the beach, having gone at 10 to the light to trim his lamps, and saw a man kneeling before one of the fires, who proved to be one of the crew of the barque, George Chetney, and, on being asked if any of his companions had been saved, he informed the lightkeeper that one other was lying near the water; the latter, John Jasper, was in a dying condition, much bruised about the feet, and would not have lived another half-hour. Both of these men were taken to the lighthouse, one half mile off, in about two hours, by the exertions of Mr. Hamilton and his companion, the Rev. Mr. Lord, of North Truro, the bank above the beach being 100 feet high, of yielding sand, and Jasper unable to help himself.
“When the foremast gave way the two men who were saved went over with the broadside; and, though washed off two or three times, and although the rigging caught in the railroad iron and kept them for an hour and a half by the wreck, from which they saw their fourteen companions swept off, they eventually went ashore nearly opposite the wreck. They were most amply cared for at the lighthouse by Mr. Hamilton and his wife. Six bodies of the crew have since been recovered and buried at Province-town, and also that of D. H. Cassity, at North Truro. Thus 16 persons perished in this terrible shipwreck, and two of our own fearless and heroic Cape Cod fishermen, in a bold attempt to save the lives of their brother sailors.”
Mariners and Memorials. “John Cawsey, died 1852.” Accessed 8-14-2024:
“John Cawsey from Northam gained his master’s certificate in February 1852, and his first voyage as captain was also his last. John was master of the barque JOSEPHA and his brother Robert one of the crew of about 15 (reports differ as to the exact number) when it left Bristol on 19 March 1852, laden with iron and other freight for Boston. After a good crossing of the Atlantic the Josepha was wrecked in thick fog and high seas off the coast of Massachusetts on 20 April. The wreck took more lives than the two Cawsey brothers, as only two of the crew survived (George Chetney and John Jasper), and two local men were drowned in the rescue efforts. A report in the New York Tribune, reprinted in the Gloucester Journal in June 1852 gives a detailed and graphic account of the disaster, and there is a transcript below. The Provincetown Advocate remembered the wreck of the Josepha on several anniversaries, in 1956 calling it “the most disastrous wreck and loss of life … that has been known within the memory of our oldest inhabitant”. In 1879 it published an article accompanied by a poem: these are also below.
“John and Robert were two of the sons of John Cawsey, a butcher, and his wife Betsy (née Stapledon) and were both born and baptised in Northam: John’s baptism was 13 February 1823, and Robert’s 7 May 1835. Note that parts of the memorial are very worn and the year of their death is indistinct. There is a transcription online which gives the year as 1832, but although this appears to be a reasonable interpretation, the newspaper reports make it clear that it should be 1852.
“Apart from John and Robert Cawsey, the following 13 crew members are listed in maritme indexes as having been drowned in the wreck of the Josepha. Where I have been able to find their birthplaces and dates in other records of seamen, I have added these to the list
Andrew McGrath
William Holdin . . . . . . Bristol, 1830
Robert Yeo . . . . . . . . . Barnstaple, 1833
William Allen
Benjamin Squires . . . . Watchet, 1835
Henry Williams . . . . . . Northam, 1825
William Cox
William Allen
John Carter
James Essery . . . . . . . . Bideford
William Myers
William Titherley
William Cobbledick.”
Perley. “The Strom of April 1852.” Historic Storms of New England. 1891:
“The winter of 1851-52 was very severe. Snow came late in the season, thus making the spring backward. In New Hampshire, a great snow storm began on the fifteenth of April, and continued till the next day. Saturday, the seventeenth, was pleasant, with bright sunlight; but on the morning of the next day an easterly wind began to blow and a drizzling rain to fall. The wind constantly increased in strength and the rain in volume until the water fell in torrents and a terrific gale was blowing. The storm continued until the next Tuesday night, and it was but a little less severe than the great storm of the year before, being productive of much damage to property and loss of life even as far south as Virginia.
“This rain melted the snow that fell on the fifteenth, and the rain water together with the melted snow greatly swelled the streams, causing a freshet in many of them. The earth was saturated, almost beyond known precedent, and cellars were flooded everywhere. The Kennebec river in Maine was extremely high, the water being eight feet deep on the wharves at Hallowell, where it continued to rise until the morning of Friday, the twenty-third. The Saco river also overflowed its banks at its mouth. In New Hampshire, the water was over the bridges at Auburn village, and other places. The Nashua river reached its height on Tuesday, and caused much damage. The mills at Dover and Great Falls were stopped by the water, and the trains at Newmarket could not be run as the water was so high above the rails it extinguished the fires in the locomotives. The freshet was as high in Massachusetts as it was farther north, the water in some places being two feet above the Nashua and Lowell railroad two weeks after the storm. The Merrimac was never known to rise so high before, at Lowell and Lawrence all work in the mills having to be suspended on account of the flooding of the lower stories. Water ran eight feet above the dam at Lawrence, and the southern end of Andover bridge was swept away. Two houses were carried down the river on the twenty-second, and at Groveland people boarded them in boats, and saved the furniture. The roads near the mouth of the river were almost impassable and the wharves at Amesbury and Salisbury point were five or six feet under water. In most of the manufacturing towns in Worcester county the dams and bridges were swept away. In Winchendon twelve bridges were washed off, and every one of the nine bridges over Miller’s river in that town was either carried away or rendered impassable. The freshet was also high in Rhode Island and Connecticut. The Connecticut river was very much flooded, and that part of the city of Hartford which lies east of Front street was completely inundated, the cellars and, in Charles and other low streets, the first floors of the houses being filled with water. At Masonville, in Thompson, a woman was drowned.
“The strong wind caused a large number of disasters on the ocean during the storm. The brig Spartan of Boston, while returning from Surinam with a cargo of three hundred hogsheads of molasses, was driven ashore on Plum island at midnight on Monday. The crew of nine persons was saved; one of them being sick with yellow fever, and most of the others unable to walk. Mr. Lufkin, a farmer, who lived on the island, in the greatness of his heart took a cart and conveyed them all to his house, where he cared for them in spite of the terrible disease. The cargo was scattered along the beach, and the vessel was quickly dashed to pieces by the powerful waves. Other vessels were driven ashore at Nauset point and Alderton and on Chatham, Duxbury, Marshfield, Scituate, Salisbury and Hampton beaches.
“The fatal shoals of Cape Cod lying off the coast at Truro again caught several vessels and sent them to destruction with many human lives. A Danish brig struck the bar, and went to pieces, all hands being lost. Among others were a ship named Inez, three barks, the Josepha, Queen and Solway, and two English schooners.
“The most interesting of these disasters was the wreck of the bark Josepha, which belonged in Gloucester, England, and had sailed from Bristol for Boston March 19, with a cargo of railroad iron, while lead and skins. It was commanded by Captain Cawsey, and the whole crew numbered nineteen men, all of whom were young. The craft was six years old, of about six hundred tons burden, and heavily and substantially built out of larch and other woods from the north of England, being ironed with heavy braces.
“The ocean voyage was short and prosperous, and they made Cape Cod light at twelve o’clock Monday night, April 19, In the thick fog and the easterly gale they took a southeasterly course to get clear of the land. After running out far enough to accomplish their purpose, as the captain thought, they backed and sailed in toward the shore intending to enter Cape Cod bay. The fog was so thick they could not tell where they were, but when they tacked, to their surprise and horror, they discovered upon sounding that the water was only fifteen fathoms deep, and that they were right on the breakers.
“The vessel struck on the outer bar off the head of the marshes about half a mile north of the Highland light. This was at about three o’clock on Tuesday afternoon. She was soon on her beam ends and after a few more of the violent and powerful seas that were running on the bar had struck her, the starboard quarter was carried away. The crew knew that the bark could not hold together very long in that tremendous sea, and they launched the pinnace, but it was instantly dashed to pieces, and the long boat, which they next got out, met with the same fate. A few minutes later the deck gave way from the stern to the foremast, the main and mizzen masts fell overboard, and the larboard side fell in.
“What was left of the vessel lay about three hundred yards from the shore, and the sea was continually washing over it. While she was in that condition, at about five o’clock in the afternoon, three boys who were walking on the beach saw her as the fog lifted a little. They immediately informed Mr, Hamilton, the keeper of the Highland lighthouse, and with the life preservers, India rubber coats, caps, etc., belonging to the Humane society, he hurried toward the beach. A messenger went to Pond village, Truro, a mile away, and shouted through the streets, “A ship ashore, and all hands perishing!” a cry that always caused the men of Cape Cod to spring to their feet and hasten to the beach. A large number assembled. They could see the spray from the waves fly over the foremast, which remained standing, and plainly distinguish several men clinging to the larboard side of the vessel, their heart-rending cries for assistance being heard above the thunder of the storm. The life-boat was kept a mile away, but even had it been there it was doubtful if it could have survived the mighty surf. But the piercing cries rang on, and the men of Cape Cod could never permit such calls to continue without risking their lives to rescue mariners. The rocket belonging to the Humane society that was used for throwing a line to a wreck was tried and burst. Jonathan Collins, who had just arisen from the tea-table, procured the lighthouse dory, and against the entreaties of the people present started to go out in the boat to carry a line to the wreck. This was about seven o’clock. David D. Smith took his watch from his pocket and handed it to a neighbor, but as he was about to step into the boat to go with Collins, a brave young man, named D. H. Cassidy, only twenty-three years old, who had been married but a few days, pushed Smith aside and took his seat in the boat. They pushed out into the mountains of foaming waters, on, on through the raging seas, until they had got within about fifteen yards of the wreck, when the boat capsized, and both men perished.
“The evening had long since set in, and the darkness of a stormy night shrouded land and water. Nothing could be done to save the dying men. Fires were built on the beach, and companies formed to patrol the shore to discover and lend assistance to anyone that might come ashore. The strong heavy timbers of the vessel were heard crashing asunder, and all believed that some of the men must soon be washed on the beach but that they would be alive no one dared hope. About eleven o’clock, the patrol found a man kneeling before one of the fires. It was one of the crew named George Chitney, who informed the patrol that when the foremast gave way the broad side of the bark went with it and that he and John Jasper, who was then lying at the edge of the water, being much bruised about the feet and in a dying condition, clung to the timbers, and though washed off several times, the rigging catching in the railroad iron, held them for an hour and a half, they being at length washed ashore. Both the men were taken to the lighthouse, where they were kindly cared for, and only those two out of the crew of eighteen were saved. The body of Cassidy was found and buried at North Truro. Only six other bodies were recovered, and they were interred at Provincetown.”
Provincetown Advocate ~ 24 April 1879. Transcribed in Mariners and Memorials:
“Original
“Wreck of the Bark Josepha
“A Well Authenticated Narrative, written for and read before the Truro Lyceum
“It was April 20th of the year 1852 when the quiet of North Truro was disturbed by the alarm that a vessel was on shore near the Highland Light, and all on board likely to perish. The news went from house to house thro’ that section of the town until all of the available men were aroused to a sense of duty to repair to the scene of the diaster to aid in any feasible way to rescue the perishing crew. It was near night, and the surf was running high when they had assembled at the nearest point to the wreck to commence operations. It was the judgement of the majority of those on the shore that no boat could be conducted to the wreck, but when tender and brave hearted men are brought in contact with their suffering fellow men, and see them clinging to a wreck, enveloped by the wild waves of the ocean and hear their piteous cry for rescue above the tempest’s roar, it is then the brave hearts of men control their better judgement, and they resolved to buffet the waves to rescue or to die. Thus it was when the English bark Josepha lay threatened with destruction amid the wild breakers on the back of Cape Cod.
“The night was falling on the scene, and in a few hours all hope would be lost. Such was the case that the brave hearted Jonathan Collins determined to board the Josepha or to die in the attempt. A dory was obtained by which to try the experiment of boarding her. Mr. Collins felt himself competent to manage it as he was an adept in the use of such a boat. Mr. D. D. Smith, another brave hearted citizen, took his valuables from his pocket to share the danger and honor with Mr. Collins, when Daniel H. Cassity, a young man some fifteen years younger than Mr. Smith, and twenty or more than Mr. Collins, stepped forward and pushed Mr. Smith aside and took the latter’s place: Mr. Cassidy was doubtless impelled by ambition as well as a brave heart and reason of age to take Mr. Smith’s place. All was now ready and the dory pushed forth to the devouring elements. A short but desperate struggle ensued when it was overturned and the two unfortunate men met a watery grave to the great sorrow of their fellow townsmen and the overwhelming grief of the suffering crew who saw their transient hope fade before them.
“It is grievous to say that only two of the eighteen reached the shore alive. – The age of Mr. Collins was about forty-five, and that of Mr. Cassity about twenty-three years. Their bravery for that daring though unsuccessful attempt should ever live in the memory of the sailor, and in the memory of their fellow townsmen….
“Truro, April, 1879.
Sources
Colonial Sense. New England Weather. “Storm of April, 1852.” Accessed 7-29-2024 at: http://www.colonialsense.com/Society-Lifestyle/Signs_of_the_Times/New_England_Weather/Storm_of_April,_1852.php
Mariners and Memorials. “John Cawsey, died 1852.” Accessed 8-14-2024 at: https://marinersandmemorials.wordpress.com/john-cawsey-died-1852/
Perley, Sidney. Historic Storms of New England. Salem, MA: The Salem Press Publishing and Printing Co., 1891. Google digital preview accessed 10-26-2017 at: https://books.google.com/books?id=Z2kAAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false
And 8-14-2024 at: https://books.google.com/books?id=twkAAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=true