The Northfleet: Death Without Warning

Richard Napolitano (00:08)
On a cold winter night in January of 1873, the English Channel was the scene of one of the most tragic civilian shipwrecks of the Victorian era. The iron sailing ship North Fleet anchored quietly off the coast of Dungeness was struck without warning by the Spanish steamship Murillo and sent to the bottom in less than half an hour. Hundreds of lives, many of them immigrants bound for a new future, were lost in darkness, confusion, and bitter cold.

The North Fleet was a 1,100 ton iron sailing ship built in 1853 by Pitcher and Company of North Fleet and owned at the time by Duncan Dunbar and Company. She was a beautiful and graceful fully rigged vessel, one of the three Blackwall frigates. These vessels were built from the late 1830s through the 1870s and were meant to take over from the aging British East India men on long haul routes to India, around the Cape of Good Hope and onto China. They were faster, sleeker.

and better suited for the competitive trade to Asia. By the 1850s, the North Fleet was also making regular runs between England, Australia, and New Zealand, carrying cargo, passengers, and immigrants across the world. The North Fleet spent most of her working life crisscrossing the oceans before her final fateful night in the English Channel. On January 18th, 1873, the North Fleet left London about 11 o'clock in the morning with 379 people on board.

mostly immigrant laborers recruited to work on the railway line in Tasmania. 248 men, 42 women, and 52 children were hoping for a fresh start and a new life. Families slept below decks. Children huddled together in the cold. The North Fleet was under the command of Chief Officer Edward Knowles. The ship's usual captain, Thomas Oates, was not able to make the voyage as he was scheduled to testify in an upcoming criminal trial.

Captain Knowles was accompanied by his wife, Frederica. The couple had only been married for six weeks, and Frederica agreed to keep him company on the long voyage. Through stormy weather, the North Fleet progressed through the Thames Estuary and crossed the Strait of Dover, making several stops at ports along the way until anchoring off the coast of Dungeness on the night of January 22nd. The weather was poor, and the North Fleet was just one of hundreds of other vessels riding out the storm.

The ship lay at anchor about two miles offshore with her lights burning as required. There was no reason for alarm. At around 10.30 PM on January 22nd, a shout rang out from the officer on watch. What steamer is that? Where are you coming to? It was the Spanish steamship, Murillo. The crewmen aboard the tug, land in Trinity, which had been assisting the North Fleet, witnessed the Murillo steaming about from place to place for some time prior.

Moments later, the North Fleet was rammed by the Murillo on its starboard side, rocking the ship and jolting the peacefully sleeping passengers below into sudden panic. The impact tore a massive hole in the iron hull. The Murillo had not slowed, signaled, or even made any attempt whatsoever to change its course. Water poured into the ship immediately. The North Fleet began to settle fast.

her decks tilting sharply as terrified passengers scrambled about. Some thought they had run aground. Others rushed on deck only to find the sea already level with the planks. The Murillo, after briefly backing away, steamed off into the darkness, offering no assistance. What followed was chaos. Those below who could escape found few options. Some clung to floating debris. Others leapt into the freezing channel.

hoping to swim for shore or survive until help arrived. Only two of the North Fleet's seven lifeboats were able to be launched in time. One capsized almost immediately. Another was smashed as the ship lurched. Many passengers never reached the deck at all, trapped below by flooding water and locked compartments. The Rockingham Bulletin later wrote that Captain Knowles brought his wife to one of the departing boats and said to the bosun, John Easter,

who was already in the boat. Here is a charge for you, Bowson. Take care of her and the rest, and God bless you." Knowles held his wife's hand and lovingly told her, I shall never see you again. Captain Knowles ordered the crew to work the pumps, but far too much water was pouring into the ship to be of any use. Knowles then sent blue distress rockets high into the air, hoping for assistance. The ship sank in less than 30 minutes.

Cries for help echoed across the water, but nearby vessels either did not hear or did not respond in time. By the time rescue efforts began in earnest, the sea was already littered with bodies. Of the 379 people aboard, over 300 were killed. But the scale of loss was undeniable. Entire families perished together. Children drowned alongside their parents. Many bodies were never recovered.

John Taplin was traveling with his wife Caroline and their three daughters, Sarah, Caroline, and 10-year-old Maria. John tossed Maria into a lifeboat, but was unable to get the rest of his family, or himself, into a boat. Maria and the other 30 or so in the lifeboat were rescued by another ship, but her parents and two sisters went down with the North Fleet. Captain Edward Knowles also went down with his ship. His wife, Frederica, indeed.

never saw him again. Survivors later described seeing people praying aloud in the water, calling for loved ones or silently slipping beneath the surface from exhaustion and cold. The beaches of Kent became scenes of grim recovery in the days that followed, as bodies washed ashore and were laid out for identification. When it became clear that the Murillo had fled the scene, public anger intensified. The Victorian public

already sensitive to maritime disasters, was appalled that a steamship could strike an anchored vessel and abandon it without rendering any aid.

An official inquiry later found that the Murillo had been negligently navigated, failing to keep proper lookout or taking avoiding action. Her officers were censured, though many felt justice fell short of the crime. The court at Cadiz, Spain suspended the Murillo's captain, Felipe Baruti, for one year for failing to assist after the collision. No criminal charges were filed against Baruti or any of the officers of the Murillo.

As is usual after disasters at sea, the loss of the North Fleet also raised uncomfortable questions about overcrowding, immigrant safety, and the condition of life-saving equipment aboard merchant vessels. The sinking of the North Fleet did not fade quietly into history. Alongside later tragedies like the Princess Alice in 1878, it helped to push towards stronger maritime safety regulations, better lighting standards, improved lifeboat readiness,

and greater accountability for steamship operators. On that winter night in 1873, hundreds of people were doing nothing more than waiting for the wind to change. They never left anchor. They never saw Tasmania. They never had a chance.

That's going to do it for this mini episode about the North Fleet. For more maritime history, please be sure to subscribe to Shipwrecks and Seadogs on YouTube or listen to the audio podcasts on Apple podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. Thank you so much for watching. And until next time, don't forget to wear your life jackets.