Jacob Funk - A Terrifying Experience at Sea, Part 2

Read Part 1 here.

When the sailors announced the rope ready, nearly a hundred hands grasped it and fifty human beings made their way towards that haven of safely.  In the meantime, the sea had become angrier and the waves were rolling higher.  When the rope was freighted to its utmost capacity, Captain Williams gave orders that no more should attempt to go ashore until those on the rope had been rescued.

Close up of a section of the Currier and Ives lithograph depicting the rescue in 1873

 Before the first one gained the rock, a wave approached nearly fifty feet high.  It struck the rope and its precious freight.  All these on the improvised bridge of safety perished.  Many of them were washed hundreds of yards out into the ocean, and their cries were heart rending in the extreme.  Their cries sounded the death knell to a large portion of those left and they became desperate.  
They had witnessed the sailor's successful battle with the waves, and those who could swim, divested themselves of what few clothes they had on and plunged into the sea.  Only a few of them reached shore and those who did were so exhausted when they reached the beach, they were washed back into the sea and drowned.

On the afternoon of April 1st, Mr. Funk reached the rock by means of the rope, the waters having grown calmer.  His clothing was frozen to him. When he reached the rock, he fell in a faint, but soon recovered.  There was six inches of snow on the ground and he had to keep continually in motion to prevent freezing.  Soon after, some fishing boats were hailed and they took the unfortunates off the rock and landed them on terra firma.

 When the shipwrecked people were safe on land, they were a sorry looking crowd, indeed.  Many of them had on nothing but a shirt, others were clothed in drawers and shirt, some had only a pair of pants to protect them from the cold, and many of them were nude, having thrown off their garments to enable them to swim should they be forced to.

Of the 900 passengers that boarded the ship at Liverpool, only 326 were put on the bleak, bare fishing coast.  573 perished.  The only habitation in sight was a small shanty in which a few fishermen managed to exist.

Funk could not speak a word of English, and there were many of his countrymen to keep him company.  The Germans held a consultation and resolved to stay together.  One man in the party whose name Mr. Funk did not learn, could speak English.  They immediately set out for the fishing shanty, but when the German party arrived, they found it full to overflowing by others of the survivors more fortunate than themselves.  Their interpreter was informed that there was another shanty some distance down the coast and thither they repaired walking in six inches of snow barefooted about two miles.  On the way three died and many were frozen badly.

On arriving at the shanty, they found a fire, and those fortunate enough to have clothing dried it.  The larder of the habitation did not furnish much for supper, but by dividing it up, each received enough to keep away starvation.
The next day a steamer took them to Halifax, where they were provided with food and clothing.  Mr. Funk says all the inhabitants of the town were on the street to see them.

April 4th, the shipwrecked people got a steamer, and soon landed at Portland, Maine.  From Portland, they went to Boston.  There a collection was taken up for them, or rather, they were placed on exhibition, the price of admission being 50 cents.  The proceeds were turned over to the unfortunates.
From Boston, they went to Fall River and took a boat for New York, arriving there April 6.  As soon as Mr. Funk arrived in New York, he succumbed to his privations and exposure and lay for six weeks in a hospital on Ward's Island with inflammatory rheumatism.

Ward's Island - located between Queens and Manhattan

 When he recovered, he earned enough money to take him West and he subsequently became a resident of this county.  He is unmarried.  He attributes his miraculous escape from death to his strong constitution, as he was very rugged in his younger days.

Mr. Funk has never met but one of the survivors of the ill-fated Atlantic since he parted from his companions in New York.  This was the mate, Brady, who bravely carried the line to the rock.  Mr. Funk met him at the White Star Line exhibit at the World's Fair.  Strange to say, Mr. Funk was the only one of the passengers who survived the wreck whom the seaman had met.  The meeting was a pathetic one and Mr. Funk says the gallant seaman cried like a child.

As he related this last evening, a suspicion of a tear glistened in his eye.  Brady was at the Exposition in the interest of the White Star Line.  He is old, infirm, and the company has pensioned him for his gallant service April 1st, 1873."

Cornelius Brady, Hero of the Atlantic shipwreck, 1873

As for Jacob Funk, he appeared in the 1880 census, Richland Township, Defiance County, working as a farm laborer for Michael and Mary Hohenberger.  He was 27 and still single, and he named his birthplace as Baden.

By the 1900 census, he was still not married and by this time was boarding with the Henry and Elizabeth Ort family, working as a day laborer.

I could not locate him in the 1910 census, but he appeared again in 1920 in Defiance City, living at 742 Jackson Street with his wife, Margaret.  He was 66, and she was 72. 

Death records showed that he died on February 6, 1924, but I am not sure where he and his wife were buried. 

For some further reading on the wreck of the Atlantic and a look at the memorial site in Nova Scotia, go HERE.

 

Jacob Funk - A Terrifying Experience at Sea, Part 1

In recognition of Memorial Day, we present a two part story of the wreck of the ship, Atlantic, in 1873, where over five hundred people died.  One of our Defiance County residents was a witness to it all and shared his tale with the newspaper about twenty years after the ship went down. 

 

From the Defiance Democrat - December 6, 1894

"A THRILLING EXPERIENCE

Jacob Funk Tells a Horrible Story of a Ship Wreck.

Lashed to a Mast Fifteen Hours in Frozen Garments.

The Fatal Day in 1873, when the White Star Liner, 'Atlantic," was Dashed to Pieces on the Rocks.

Jacob Funk, who resides in South Richland township, this county, has had an experience in his life which for hardship and privation is hardly without a parallel in the annals of history.

Mr. Funk was a caller at this office last evening, and told the thrilling story of how 573 persons met death on the ill fated White Star Line steamer Atlantic the night of March 31st and April 1st, 1873.  

He is now nearly 40 years old, but distinctly remembers the incidents that time can never efface from his memory.

March 20, 1873, he took passage on the Atlantic at Liverpool for America.  At that time he was about 20 years old and left his birth place, Germany, to link his fate and fortune with the people of the United States.  His father's estate had recently been settled, and young Funk, when he had exchanged his German money for American gold, had $500 with which to begin life.

With this in his possession, the future looked bright and it was with a light heart indeed that he bade farewell to the old world to seek prosperity across the water.

The Atlantic was a new, staunch steamer, and had not made many trips across the ocean.  She was commanded by Captain Williams, a veteran in the service of the White Star Line Company, a seaman to be trusted with a new boat and the keeping of her hundreds of passengers.

The human freight of the big ocean liner consisted of 900 souls.  There were 370 Germans in the steerage.  The voyage was an uneventful one.  The weather was all that could be desired, and the ship made rapid progress and the crew and passengers were happy.

The evening of March 31st, there was a dance on board and the hours were beguiled away in the mazes of the dance while shouts and merry laughter rang out over the water.  While the revelry was at its height, one of the mates looked at the compass and saw the ship was out of its course.  The ship was in command of the first mate, the captain being below.  The mate who made the discovery immediately informed his superior officer that the boat was not being held to the course and chart, being too far north.

The officer in command ordered his subordinate below and somewhat angrily informed him he knew his business and would not be dictated to.  Mr. Funk says he has since heard that the officer in command had been imbibing too much of the ship's grog and was not competent to have command of the ship.

About midnight, Mr. Funk was rudely awakened by being unceremoniously pitched out of his berth.  When he struck the floor of the ship, he immediately divined something unusual had happened, and it had.  Soon he heard the screams of the frightened and thoroughly terrorized passengers.  Jacob was clad only in his drawers and undershirt, but he hastily climbed on the deck.

The ship had been steered out of her course and had struck a rock and was being dashed to pieces. The crew immediately tried to man the pumps, but before they could get them to work, they discovered it was useless to attempt it, as the vessel was doomed.  In less than five minutes, the stern of the vessel began to sink.  The waves were running high and the sounds of the breakers beating against the rocks could be distinctly heard.

A lithograph by Currier and Ives showing passengers hanging  onto rigging to get to a rock 40 yards away.

 The crew made an effort to lower the lifeboats when the vessel careened on its side and one of the boats was submerged.  The other one was loosened from its davits and when a portion of the crew attempted to launch it, a wave swept the deck and the sailors and the boat, the only haven of safety remaining, was swept into the seething, hissing waves, and were lost to view.

Mr. Funk hastily grabbed a piece of rope and following the example of others, took to the rigging of the ship.  He secured a position on a cross head and firmly lashed himself to the spar.  Nearly all of the women and children stayed on deck a few moments and were then washed off by the waves. Funk says the scene at this time was horrible and haunted him for many years.  

On every conceivable portion of the ship above water were to be seen men clinging for safety.  All of them were in their night clothing.  It was bitter cold and rain and sleet was falling, which froze as soon as it touched their clothing.  The portion of the deck that was not under water was constantly being swept by the waves and the benumbed creatures were in momentary peril of being swept into the sea.  The mast he had sought refuge on, owing to the careening of the vessel, was but a few feet above the water and occasionally the salt spray would saturate his clothing.

The boat struck the rock about a half mile from shore, fifty miles from Halifax.  Halfway to the shore, a large rock reared its summit above the water.  Captain Williams tried to comfort his companions by cheering words, but all felt they must perish, soon.  One of the sailors suggested that if a line could be got to the rock, they might yet be rescued.  It would be necessary for someone to swim to that rock.  The captain called for volunteers.  No one responded.

Finally a mate named Brady, a hardy, robust fellow, announced his willingness to make the attempt, which meant almost certain death.  He fastened a light line around his body, bid his companions good-bye and plunged into the sea.  Those on the ship witnessed his battle with the waves with interest.  Their lives depended upon his success or failure.

After being in the water nearly a half hour, in the fast approaching daylight, they could dimly discern him scrambling to the summit of the rock.  A cheer arose from the ship.  They saw him no more for several minutes, and hope again died in their breasts.  Had he succeeded only to perish when his efforts were crowned with success?

Presently, there came a shout and a tug at the rope. Instantly a stronger line was fastened to the slender cords upon which hinged hundreds of lives.  This rope was hauled to the rock.  Then one sailor grasped the rope and hand over hand proceeded to the rock.  Two more then followed, and in the same manner, twelve sailors gained the rock.  

The captain sternly commanded all to remain quiet until he gave them permission.  He said it was not his purpose to save the remaining members of the crew first, but he wished experienced men to handle the rope at the shore end, as he doubted whether it could be safely fastened.

To be continued...