THE LOSS OF THE "SCHILLEB." 267 



and Cadiz, which left London on the 12th of January, proceeded to Antwerp, and, after 

 leaving- that port, arrived off Dungeness on the night of January 22nd. The Northfleet 

 was anchored in an apparently most safe position, a mile and a half or more inside the 

 usual fair course for vessels outward-bound. The Murillo came down inside the Nortlifleet, 

 and struck her nearly amidships. It would appear, both from observation on board the 

 Northfleet and also from the evidence given by the chief engineer of the Murillo, that 

 the latter had slackened her speed some little time before the collision, or probably both 

 ships would have sunk. There is no doubt the shock was a slight one; but the sharp 

 stem of the iron steamer having struck the weakest part of the wooden ship will account 

 for the mischief done. The master of the Murillo, in his log, stated that the reason for 

 not laying by to inquire as to the injury sustained by the shock was that a boat had 

 immediately left the ship and examined the damage, and that the boat and crew having 

 returned again, he concluded nothing of moment had happened. The Court was satisfied 

 that no such incident had occurred, nor was it mentioned by the witnesses who had 

 previously been examined by the Court. The survivors of the collision were unanimously 

 of opinion that if the Murillo had lain by, the whole of the Nortlifleet people could have 

 been saved. They thoroughly believed that the Murillo steamed away, and left them to 

 perish, in defiance of their signals, rockets, blue lights, and the shouts and screams of the 

 whole ship's company, which must have been noticed. On the other hand, it appears that 

 Captain Knowles did not apprehend immediately the damage his ship had suffered, and 

 that no rockets were fired for a quarter of an hour after the collision. During this time 

 the Murillo was steaming away at half-speed, and was probably two miles off. Upon 

 this evidence the Court felt they ought not to impute to the captain of the Murillo the 

 full apparent brutality of his offence in not staying by the injured ship. The Court 

 added a strong expression of opinion that no master of a ship should be allowed to take 

 his wife to sea with him. 



On Friday, the 7th of May, 1875, one of those sad events occurred which show 

 the imperfection of many of the most carefully-devised schemes for life-saving at sea. 

 Although it occurred in British waters, neither the ship nor the larger part of the 

 passengers were British subjects. The Schiller was a fine iron steamship of 3,600 

 tons, belonging to the Eagle line of Hamburg; she was nearly a new vessel, having 

 been built at Glasgow in 1873. She left New York on the 27th of April, having on board 

 at the time 264 passengers, while the officers and crew numbered 120 souls. All went 

 well till the 7th of May, on which day she was due at Plymouth, when, in the afternoon, 

 a fog set in; nevertheless, the vessel was kept at full speed until 8.30 p.m., when the 

 density of the fog having greatly increased, she was put at half-speed, and an hour after 

 she struck on the Retarrier Rocks, off the Scilly Islands, and within two-thirds of a mile of 

 the lighthouse on the Bishop's Rock. Although going at slow speed at the time, and although 

 the engines were immediately reversed, the unyielding rocks had done their work : the 

 ship was immovable, and immediately filled. All was at once confusion, and a panic 

 ensued, cries of terror rising from every lip. Orders were given by the captain to lower 

 1 the boats, and until he was himself washed off the bridge, at about 4 a.m., and drowned, 

 he did his best to preserve some order, even threatening the frantic crowd with his pistol. 



