I came across this case while researching. I thought it rather disturbing but interesting, from a historical perspective.
The American ship William Brown, left Liverpool on the 13th of March, 1841, bound for Philadelphia in the United States. She had on board (besides a heavy cargo) 17 of a crew, and 65 passengers, Scotch and Irish emigrants. About 10 o'clock on the night of the 19th of April, when distant 250 miles southeast of Cape Race, Newfoundland, the vessel struck an iceberg, and began to fill so rapidly that it was evident she must soon go down. The long-boat and jolly-boat were cleared away and lowered. The captain, the second mate, 7 of the crew, and 1 passenger got into the jolly-boat. The first mate, 8 seamen, of whom the prisoner was one (these 9 being the entire remainder of the crew), and 22 passengers. In all 41 persons, got indiscriminately into the long-boat. The remainder of the passengers, 31 persons, were obliged to remain on board the ship. In an hour and a half from the time when the ship struck, she went down , carrying with her every person who had not escaped to one or the other of the small boats. Thirty-one passengers thus perished. On the following morning (Tuesday) the captain, being about to part company with the long-boat, gave its crew serveral directions, and, among other counsel , advised them to obey all the orders of the mate, as they would obey his, the captain's. This the crew promised that they would do. The long-boat was believed to be in general food condition; but she had not been in the water since leaving Liverpool, not thirty-five days; and as soon as she was launched, began to leak. She continued to leak the whole time; but the passengers had buckets, and tins, and, by bailing, were able to reduce the water, so as to make her hold her own. The plug was about an inch and a half in diameter. It came out more than once, and finally got lost; but its place was supplied by different expedients.
It appeared by the deposition of the captain, and of the second mate, (the latter of whom had followed the sea twenty-one years; the former being, likewise, well-experienced), that on Tuesday morning when the two boats parted company, the long-boat and all on board were in great jeopardy. The gunwale was within from 5 to 12 inches of the water. "From the experience" which they had had, they thought "the long-boat was too unmanageable to be saved." If she had been what in marine phrase, is called a "leaky boat," she must have gone down. Even without a leak she would not have supported one-half her company, had there been " a moderate blow." "she would have swamped very quickly. The people were half naked and were "all crowded up together like sheep in a pen." "A very little irregularity in the stowage would have capsized the long-boat." If she had struck any piece of ice she would inevitably have gone down. There was great peril of ice for any boat." (Captain's and second mate's depositions.) Without going into more detail, the evidence of both these officers went to show that loaded as the long-boat was on Tuesday morning, the chances of living were much against her. But the captain thought, that even if lightened to the extent to which she afterwards was, "it would have been impossible to row her to land; and that the chances of her being picked up, were ninety-nine to one against her." It appeared, further, that on Monday night when the passengers on the ship (then settling towards her head and clearly going down) were shrieking, and calling on the captain to take them off on his boat, the mate on the long-boat said to them: "Poor souls! you're only going down a short time before we do." And, further, that on the following morning, before the boats parted company, the mate, in the long-boat, told the captain, in the jolly-boat, that the long-boat was unmanageable, and, that unless the captain would take some of the long-boat's passengers, it would be necessary to cast lots and throw some overboard. "I know what you mean," or, as stated by one witness, "I know what you'll have to do," said the captain. "Don't speak of that now. Let it be the last resort." There was little or no wind at this time, but pieces of ice were floating about.
Notwithstanding all this, the long-boat, loaded as she is above described to have been, did survive throughout the night of Monday, the day of Tuesday, and until 10 o'clock of Tuesday night,--full twenty-four hours after the ship struck the iceberg. The crew rowed, turn about, at intervals, and the passengers bailed. On Tuesday morning, after the long-boat and jolly-boat parted, it began to rain and continued to rain throughout the day and night of Tuesday. At night the wind began to freshen, the sea grew heavier, and once, or oftener, the waves splashed over the boat's bow so as to wet, all over, the passengers who were seated there. Pieces of ice were still floating around, and, during the day, icebergs had been seen. About 10 o'clock of Tuesday night, the prisoner and the rest of the crew began to throw over some of the passengers, and did not cease until they had thrown over 14 male passengers. These, with the exception of two married men and a small boy, constituted all the male passengers aboard. Not one of the crew was cast over. One of them, the cook, was a negro.
It was among the facts of this case that, during these solemn and distressful hours, scarce a remark appeared to have been made in regard to what was going to be done, nor, while it was being done, as to the necessity for doing it. None of the crew of the long-boat were present at the trial, to testify, and, with the exception of one small boy, all the witnesses from the long-boat were women,--mostly quite young. It is probable that, by Tuesday night (the weather being cold, the persons on the boat partially naked, and the rain falling heavily, the witnesses had become considerably over-powered by exhaustion and cold, having been 24 hours in the boat. None of them spoke in a manner entirely explicit and satisfactory in regard to the most important point, viz the degree and imminence of the jeopardy at 10 o'clock on Tuesday night, when the throwing over began. As has been stated, few words were spoken. It appeared, only, that, about 10 o'clock of Tuesday night, it being then dark, the rain falling rather heavily, the sea somewhat freshening, and the boat having considerable water in it, the mate, who had been bailing for some time, gave it up, exclaiming: "This work won't do. Help me, God. Men, go to work." Some of the passengers cried out, about the same time: "The boat is sinking. The plug's out. God have mercy on our poor souls." Holmes and the crew did not proceed upon this order; and after a little while, the mate exclaimed again: "Men, you must go to work, or we shall all perish." They then went to work; and, as has been already stated, threw out, before they ended, 14 male passengers, and also 2 women. The mate directed the crew "not to part man and wife, and not to throw over any women." There was no other principle of selection. There was no evidence of combination among the crew. No lots were cast, nor had the passengers, at any time, been either informed or consulted as to what was not done. Holmes was one of the persons who assisted in throwing the passengers over. The first man thrown over was one Riley, whom Holmes and the others told to stand up, which he did. They then threw him over, and afterwards Duffy, who, in vain besought them to spare him, for the sake of his wife and children who were on shore . They then seized a third man, but, his wife being aboard, he was spared. Coming to Charles Conlin, the man exclaimed: "Holmes, dear, sure you won't put me out?" "Yes, Charley," said Holmes, "you must go, too." And so he was thrown over. Next was Francis Askin, for the manslaughter of whom the prisoner was indicted. When laid hold of, he offered Holmes five sovereigns to spare his life till morning, "when," said he, "if God don't send us some help, we'll draw lots, and if the lot falls on me, I'll go over like a man." Holmes said, "I don't want your money, Frank," and put him overboard.
When one McAvoy was seized, he asked for five minutes to say his prayers, and, at the interposition of a negro, the cook, was allowed time to say them before he was cast overboard. It appeared also, that when Askin was put out, he had struggled violently, yet the boat had not sunk. Two men, very stiff with cold, who had hidden themselves, were thrown over after daylight on Wednesday morning when, clearly, there was no necessity for it. On Wednesday morning, while yet in the boat, some of the witnesses had told the crew that they (i.e. the crew) should be made to die the death they had given to the others. The boat had provisions for six or seven days, close allowance; that is to say, 75 pounds of bread, 6 gallons of water, 8 or 10 pounds of meat, and a small bag of oatmeal. The mate had a chart, quadrant and compass. The weather was cold, and the passengers being half clothed, much benumbed. On Wednesday morning the weather cleared and early in the morning the long-boat was picked up by the ship "Crescent." All the persons who had not been thrown overboard were thus saved.
On the other hand the character of the prisoner stood forth, in many points in manly and interesting relief. A Finn by birth, he had followed the sea from youth and his frame and countenance would have made an artists's model for decision and strength. He had been the last man of the crew to leave the sinking ship. His efforts to save the passengers, at the time the ship struck, had been conspicuous, and, but that they were in discharge of duty, would have been called self-forget and most generous. As a sailor, his captain and the second mate testified that he had ever been obedient to orders faithful to his duty, and efficient in the performance of it,--"remarkable so," said the second mate. "He was kind and obliging in every respect," said the captain, "to the passengers, to his shipmates, and to everybody. Never heard one speak against him. He was always obedient to officers. I never had a better man on board ship. He was a first rate man." (Captain's deposition.) While on the long-boat, in order to protect the women, he had parted with all his clothes, except his shirt and pantaloons; and his conduct and language to the women were kind. After Askin had been thrown out, someone asked if any more were to be thrown over. "No," said Holmes, "no more shall be thrown over. If any more are lost, we will all be lost together." Of both passengers and crew , he finally became the only one whose energies and whose hopes did not sink into prostration. He was the first to desery the vessel which took them up, and by his exertions the ship was made to see, and, finally, to save them.
On board the long-boat, a widowed mother, a Scotswoman and her three daughters had escaped; but, just as the boat was about veering astern, and when there was great danger of being drawn into the vortex of the sinking ship, it was discovered that one of the family, a sick sister, had been left behind in the ship. Her mother was calling, "Isabel, Isabel, come, come!" But the girl was too sick to hear or to mind. Holmes, hearing the mother's cry, climbed up the ship's side (at great peril of his life, as was testified) ran astern, and, hoisting the sick girl upon his shoulders, swung himself and her over by the tackle by one arm, into the long-boat below. "O, mother, I an coming, I am coming!" responded the girl, as Holmes was lowering himself and her along the ship's side. On the trial, Holmes' counsel after describing with effect, the earlier circumstances of the catastrophe, thus opened his defence: "But hark, gentlemen. On that dreadful night, the crew and half the passengers having taken to the boats, the agonized voice of a mother is heard, even beyond the tumult and the outcry, calling for the preservation of her daughter who, in the consternation of the moment, had been forgotten, and remained on board the fated ship. In an instant you see an athletic sailor passing hand over hand, by means of a slender rope, until he regains the vessel. Behold him now on the quarter-deck with one arm entwined around a sickly and half naked girl, in the depth of the night, surrounded by icebergs and the ocean, while, with the other, he swings himself and his almost lifeless burthen from the stern of the sinking ship into the boat below, and restores the child at once to the open arms and yearning of her mother. Yet, today, gentlemen, there, before you sits that selfsame heroic sailor, arraigned upon the charge of having voluntarily and feloniously deprived a fellow creature of his life: and that gentlemen, is the charge which you are summoned here to determine.
"The passengers, on Wednesday morning" said one of the witnesses, "looked very distressed: and Holmes told them to keep their hearts up." "The mate," said another witness "asked the men what he should do. Holmes said we ought not to steer for Newfoundland as we would never reach it, but to go south, as it would be warmer, and we might meet a vessel. The mate said he would do as Holmes wanted . He would give up all to Holmes. * * * I saw Holmes with a quilt. He tried to raise it to make a sail, but the wind was too strong. He then stood up and said he saw the mast of a vessel and afterwards got to work to raise a shawl on the end of an oar." In fact, as appeared by other parts of the testimony, Holmes' long-trained labouring eye descried the Crescent's main-mast, in the distant, several minutes before it was at all visable to anybody on board: and, while most of the boat's assemblage lay yet exhausted or despairing he had raised the signal of distress. His coolness and deep knowledge of sea life were not less manifested now, than his physical superiority had been before. The great distance of the Crescent rendered it almost impossible that Holmes' signal should be seen. The second mate of the vessel happened, however, to be aloft, watching for ice: and as soon as the ship responding to the signal, put about the voice of exultant joy and gratitude burst forth from the wretched assemblage on the long-boat. Some were crawling up the side of the boat to see the approaching vessel and others who had seemed congealed, now stood erect; "Liedown," said Holmes, "every soul of you and be still." 'If they make so many of us on board, they will steer off another way and pretend they have not seen us."
The prisoner was indicted under the act of April 30, 1790, "for the punishment of certain crimes against the United States" (1 Story's Laws 83 [1 Stat, 115]), an act which ordains (section 12) that if any seaman &c., shall commit manslaughter upon the high seas, &c., on conviction, he shall be imprisoned not exceeding three years, and fined not exceeding one thousand dollars. The indictment charged that Holmes--First, with force, &c., "unlawfully and feloniously " did make an assult, &c., and east and throw Askin from a vessel, belonging, &c., whose name was unknown, into the high seas by means of which, &c., Askin, in and with the waters thereof then and then was suffocated and drowned; second, in the same way, on board the long-boat of the ship William Brown, belonging, &c., did make an assault, &c., and east, &c. The trial of the prisoner came on upon the 13th of April, 1842 a few days before the anniversary of the calamitous events referred to. The case was replete with incidents of deep romance and of pathetic interest. These, not being connected with the law of the case, of course do not appear in this report; but they had become known in a general way, to the public, before the trial; and on the day assigned for trial at the opening of the court, several stenographers connected with the newspaper press appeared within the bar, ready to report the evidence for their expectant readers.
To make a long story short, he was found guilty, but sentenced lightly. The rest of the case is blah blah law and stuff.