Queen of Swansea

One of Newfoundland's Most Tragic Sea Stories

The Loss of the "Queen of Swansea" at Gull Island, Cape John, 1867¹
More commonly known as Cape St. John

Published for the First Time, With Photographs of the Actual Scenes of the Tragedy

Source: "The Family Fireside", January 1938. Clipping found in diary of Reginald Norman Rowsell

The "Queen of Swansea" of 360 tons left St. John's on Tuesday, December 6th, having on board some cargo including considerable lumber cargo also a mail, six passengers, a pilot and eight in crew, 15 persons. Among whom was Miss Maria and Miss Jean Hoskins with their brother William who were on their way from Swansea and joined the ship at St. John's to meet their parents, Captain and Mrs. Hoskins in Tilt Cove. The Captain was employed at mining work there. Also John Power a step brother of the late Mr. Richard Mullowney then fireman on the Waterfront at Tilt Cove, and two other passengers George and John Stitson. My uncle Captain Patrick Duggan of LaScie was on the ship as pilot.

The ship struck Gull Island at 6 a.m. on December 12th in a snow storm and gale of E.N.E. wind. The wreck of the ship drifted across Notre Dame Bay she having a large amount of lumber on board no doubt kept her afloat, and some of the cargo and parts of the ship's wreckage was driven ashore at or near Back Harbour of Twillingate the following day. The cover of Captain Duggan's trunk was picked up. There was a locked compartment in this cover containing his shirts, socks, collars, etc. This was returned to my father by the finders of Twillingate.

In April of the following Spring Captain Mark Rowsell of Leading Tickles returning from the Seal Fishery in his vessel, was becalmed near the Gull Island. Two of his crew put out in their boat, and when very near the Island a bird came along and the men fired at it. The bird badly hit flew in and fell on the shore.

They landed at what is since known as "Queen's Gulch" and going up a short distance in their horror found the dead bird beside the skeletons of two men and near by covered by a sail was the remains of the party, eleven persons some locked in each others arms. The men returned to their vessel and reported to Captain Rowsell, who figured it must be the "Queen's" crew.

The bodies under the sail were frozen in solid ice. Captain Rowsell then went to Tilt Cove and reported the tragedy, and procuring chisel bars, axes, etc. And taking my father and Mr. Mullowney, and extra men, returned to the Island and cut the bodies out of the ice.

One of the skeletons found outside of the sail was the body of William Hoskins. The other that of one of the ship's seamen.

Seventeen years later, in 1884, the first Lighthouse was erected on the Gull Island, and Captain Mark Rowsell, who in April 1867, discovered the remains of the unfortunate people of the ill-fated Queen of Swansea, was appointed the first light-keeper of Gull Island Light and faithfully served in that capacity for many years.

These shipwrecked people had evidently looked to the sea for rescue. Had they put up a signal it might have been seen from the land. People were living at Mansfield's Bight, 4 3/4 miles from the Island. They were "winter funning" as followed in those days, and on the third day after the wreck two boats were within two miles of the Island and shot several birds, but the marooned sufferers evidently never heard the report of the guns. The high bulk of the rock behind where they lay must have been the cause of the sound not reaching them.

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THE CAPTAINS NOTES

Copy of Notes Found on the Person of Capt. Owens:

We left St. John’s, N.F. on the 5th. December, 1867 with eighty tons of stone ballast, about ten or twelve tons of general cargo and lumber, and a mail bag full of letters for the Union Mine, Tilt Cove. When running for Gull Island, Capt John, in a snow-squall and not able to see anything even when on top of it, at six o’clock a.m. on the 12th of December. Did not save anything only this book and the ship’s papers, which are in a tin case now here; and God have mercy on our souls! We shall all perish here without food or clothes or fire.

(Sgd.) JOHN OWENS
Master of the ill-fated “Queen of Swansea”<.p>

The “Queen of Swansea” got on the rock of Gull Island, Capt John N.F. in lat. 49 degrees, 59 min., and long. 55 degrees, 11 min., W., or thereabouts, on the 12th. December 1867. Consisting on board altogether, seven hands of the crew and the master, which was eight in number of the ship’s company, and six passengers and a pilot – two of the passengers being females; althogether on board 15 souls. The captain and mate and seven men and two females land on the Gull Island, by means of a rope at six o’clock a.m. on the 12th. December, 1867, just as we stood, neither bread, nor eatables, nor clothes. Boatswain, pilot and one of the ship’s crew went away with the ship and a married man who was one of the passengers. All these four perished with the ship.

This is written on the island after landing by me.
(Sgd.) JOHN OWENS
Master of the "Queen"

Dr. Dowsley’s letters to his wife found under cover where he died:

First letter

My Darling Margaret -

As you are aware, we left St. John’s on Tuesday morning, the 6th. inst. On the evening of that day a dreadful gale came on, which lasted about two or three days. We were driven off about one hundred and sixty miles to sea. I thought every moment the vessel would be swamped; but it appears she was spared a little longer for a similar fate. We ran into a gulch on the island on the morning of Tuesday the 12th. inst., about six o’clock, when the sea was raging and running mountains high. She only remained there about ten or fifteen minutes, which was not sufficient time for all hands to save themselves. All were saved with the exception of two of the crew, Duggan, pilot, and Mullowney’s step brother. We were dragged up the cliff by means of a rope tied round our waists. Not one of us saved a single thing but as we stand, not even a bit of bread; this is our fifth day, and we have not had a bit or sup, not even a drink of water, there being no such thing on the island. It is void of everything that would give us comfort. It is so barren and bleak that we cannot even get wood to make a fire to warm us. Our bed is on the cold rocks, with a piece of the canvas, full of mud, to cover us. You may fancy what my sufferings are and have been. You know I was never very strong or robust, and I am getting very weak. I expect that, if Providence does not send a vessel along this way to-day, or to-morrow at the farthest, some of us will be no more, and I very much fear I shall be the first victim; if so you will not have the gratification of getting my body, as they will make use of it for food. I am famishing with the thirst. I would give the money I took with me. Yes! all I ever saw, for one drink of water. If I had plenty of water I know I should live much longer. I feel a dreadful feverish thirst, and no means of relieving it. Oh! is it not a hard case that I cannot even get a drink of water. Oh! did I ever think think my life would end in this way, to be cast away, on a barren rock in the middle of the ocean, and there to perish with cold, hunger and thirst, and my bones to be bleached by the winter’s frost and the summer’s sun, and be food for the wild fowls! Oh! is it not sad to think of this and such a little thing would save us. We are only eight miles from Shoe Cove, where we would be received with open arms.

Now, my darling Margaret, as I plainly see that in a few hours I must appear before my God, I wish to say a few words about your future prospects. I think the best place for you to go would be the States, if you can possibly arrange matters. See —— when he arrives in the spring, tell him your intentions. I believe he is a very good, humane man and will, no doubt, do everything in his power for you. (Here the writer instructs his wife, in loving terms, in regard to private and personal matters). Whilst I am writing this, under out little bit of canvas, I am shivering with weakness, and cold from head to feet. I don’t know how I have written what I have, but this I can say, the facts are worse than what I have named. Give my love to my darling children and tell them to think often of my sad fate. Tell them I leave it as my dying request to be kind and obedient to you and to be advised by you in everything. Oh! my darling, you will feel, you will pity me when you hear of my sad fate. Oh, do, and pray for me with the children incessantly. Again, I would advise you to go to the States, if you can dispose of the property, and arrange other matters. I cannot see what you can do here. I must now conclude, my darling, as I am unable to write any more. Embrace my darling children and tell them to be kind to each other, for without this they cannot expect to prosper. Tell them their unfortunate, unhappy father leaves them his blessing. Should our fate be known before the spring, if — would come around he would be able to get my body or bones, which I would like to have laid in Belvedere. If I had you, or at least if I were with you and my dear children, and had the clergyman, I don’t think I should fear death half so much. I must now, my darling, take my last farewell of you in this world.

May we meet and enjoy one another where there is no sorrow, no trouble, no afflictions.

I leave you my love, my blessing.
Your loving, but unfortunate husband,
F. DOWSLEY

Second letter

Wednesday Dec. 18th. 1867

I have been out to see if there might be any chance of a rescue; but no such thing. I am almost mad with the thirst; I would give all I ever saw for one drink of water, but I shall never get it. We are all wet and frozen. I am now going under the canvas to lie down and die. My God pity and have mercy on my soul!

Gull Is., of Cape John

Last letter

Christmas Eve, 1867

My Darling Margaret –

We are still alive, and only that. We have had no relief ever since, nor any signs of it. We have not tasted a bit of food of any kind with the exception of the dirty snow-water that melts around and under our feet, which we are glad to devour. The place we are sheltered in, if I can call it a shelter, is up to our ankles in water. Oh! What sad Christmas Day it is for me! I think I can see you making the sweet. . . [unreadable line]. . . thing comfortable for tomorrow.

My feet were very painful last night; I was in complete agony with them. My clothes are completely saturated. Oh! I never knew the comforts of a home or a bed until now. If I were home, and to have you and the children beside me, and have the clergyman I think the trial would be small compared to what it is now; but we shall never see one another again in this world. I had no idea we should have lasted so long. Our case is now hopeless; there is no hope for deliverance, my suffering has been beyond description since I landed on this barren rock . . . Oh! how I dread — I would write more, but feel unable. Oh! my darling, if I could but once see you and the children I would be satisfied.

(here follow words of loving farewells to his family and friends, requesting them to pray for him, and he closes his letter by signing himself, Your loving, but unhappy husband. F. DOWSLEY.

Copy of Notes Found on the Person of Wm. Hoskins One of the Passengers

We struck the Gull Island in the morning before daylight and the ship was wedged into a narrow gulch. A line was got on shore and the ship made fast.

We all landed inside of 20 minutes. Captain Duggan who is pilot with Power a passenger, the ship’s boatswain, and a sailor returned to the ship and got some food and while on board the line broke and the ship drifted out to sea. God help us.

We are frozen and starving and must draw lots so that some may keep longer alive should help come.

We have drawn, the lot fell on my poor sister. I have offered myself and am taking her place. The horror of it all. [THE END] W.H.