The Wreck of the Despatch

On October 10, 1891, The Despatch, President Benjamin Harrison's official yacht, wrecked off of the southern tip of Assateague Island. The following letter was printed October 12, 1891 in the Baltimore Sun. The sender's name was not published, but was more than likely written by a Chincoteague Island resident.

 

"I have just returned to Chincoteague from the wreck of the United States steamship Despatch. She went ashore yesterday morning at three o'clock just off Assateague Island which is east of this island about a mile. The wreck lies about three miles north of the south end of the island and about seventy-five yards from shore. Everybody who was aboard landed safely and all are well, but a long-faced set of men as the ship is a total wreck and everyone has lost all his clothing except what is on his back. It was a remarkable sight to see the ship roll, slow and graceful, so near shore as she lies, listing toward the sea, apparently endeavoring with each surge to reach the shore, but old Neptune holds her in a tight grasp. Now and then, a crash is heard in the high wind and sea, a davit loosens its hold on shattered planks, (and) mouldings, chairs, tables, boxes, etc. spread themselves over the watery surface.

 

The whole beach for over three miles is strewn with wreckage and it looks as though hundreds of people are along to observe every new object of interest which floats ashore. One man rushes down to clutch a box of cigars, another a box of candles, another one a can of ham, Then here dashes a handsome chair, large refridgerator tosses about and with one high surge lands high and dry with the hinges broken.

 

Two bright Collie dogs and a Maltese cat, special pets of the sailors, are saved, while on the wreck the last living thing is a cat. At nightfall she still clings to the ship apparently unconcerned and this fact is a remarkable consequence in connection with the superstitions of the average sailors; all attest that on starting out from the Naval Yard at Brooklyn, a black cat jumped aboard, which was looked upon as an evil omen among the men and so remarked throughout the ship. It is something strange to stand and hear their comments on the solitary cat in view upon the highest part of the wreck, near the stern where the waves have not reached with wild force. Just as we (were) leaving, the ship made another list. The ship's launch disappeared when her davit and the yardarms reached the water. The sea was rolling with increased anger, the wind (was) blowing from the northeast at twenty miles an hour, and it was the opinion of all hands that by daylight tomorrow morning nothing would be seen of the Despatch but the strewn wreckage on the beach.

 

This disaster is accounted for by the absence of a lightship at Winter Quarter Shoal, which was taken away a short time ago to be overhauled, and the steersman, supposing the Assateague Light was the ship's beacon was misled. The lightship, I am told, is now in Wilmington, Delaware undergoing repairs. The lifesaving men were on hand promptly under the command of Captain James Tracy and did noble service in rescuing all aboard. The officers are all comfortably quartered at the lifesaving station."

 

The records of the U.S. Life-Saving Service concerning the wreck of the Despatch state nothing more than:

"Made ten trips in the surfboat to the wreck. Rescued seventy-nine men. October10, 1891, two and one-half miles east by north of station, Assateague Beach, Virginia, S.S. Despatch, U.S. Government, Master Cowles, tonnage 730, bound from New York City to Washington, D.C., No cargo, estimated value of the vessel $135,000, persons lost 0."