The Mary Celeste

by Stan Mason

  The first reasonable non-fictional account to follow the story of the Mary Celeste through to its final resting place in Haiti was introduced by Allan Kelly, a reporter for the New York Evening Post in its edition on the fifteenth of October, 1904. The Saturday Supplement published “The Strange Case of the Mary Celeste - A Mystery of the Deep which has never been solved”. To heighten the interest of its readers, the sub-heading ran as follows:

  “An American Ship Found Abandoned on the high seas under full sail - various theories as to why she was deserted - nothing ever learned as to the fate of her Captain and crew. Subsequent career of the vessel.”

  Reporter Kelly’s approach was very honest indeed and he used logic to dismiss the fantasies and inaccuracies presented by fellow writers. He could not accept the theory that Captain Briggs would be either stupid or heartless enough to take his wife and young daughter aboard the vessel had he any intention of committing a criminal offence. However, Kelly dwelt on these matters in depth although he could see no reason why the Captain would deliberately lose the ship, or scuttle her, or claim insurance for the loss. Having said that, he could contribute only by reinforcing the idea that the menace of impending disaster caused the Captain and his crew to take to the long-boat in which they perished. Why he should play so heavily on the possibility of Captain Briggs’ possible attempt to wreck or lose the ship is not known.....especially as it was ultimately dismissed later on in the article. Clearly, there was insufficient evidence of any kind which caused Kelly to pad out the story. Nonetheless, his reasons could not have been marked more noticeably by the argument that Captain Briggs would hardly buy a share in a vessel and wreck her on the first voyage. That fact alone would be incomprehensible. But the account was useful, for many of the myths which had attached themselves to the history of the derelict were dispelled. These included the half-consumed meal, the warm tea, the galley fire which had been stoked, the missing boats, and the ticking watch which supposedly had hung in the Captain’s cabin. In Kelly’s opinion, the crew were quite decent Germans and the chances that a mutiny had occurred was highly improbable. Whatever the shortcomings of the reporter in his summary and conclusions, at least he saw the story to the bitter end, attempting to interest his readers with a factual, historical account.

  ***

  At the end of 1904, it was the turn of the Liverpool Echo to enter into a new sensational and exclusive story. To give that newspaper some credit, it had not been reticent in reporting facts on this sea mystery earlier, but now that it entered the spotlight again it intended to make an impact. An article was printed concerning a young apprentice who served on the barque “Ardorinha” which had been bound from Swansea in South Wales to Chile. The apprentice, by the name of R.E. Greenhough, stated that he was sent with a boat’s crew to collect sand from the tiny islands of St. Paul’s Rocks. As they searched the island, they discovered a skeleton behind a rock with a bottle resting beside it. Inside the bottle, a piece of soiled and fading paper bore the following message which had been translated from German:

  “I am dying. My ship struck these rocks at dawn three days ago. She sank immediately. Only I of all her crew reached the shore alive. There is no water; I am dying of thirst. It has been a voyage of disaster..... killed in the engine room. Three deaths in two days. Then came the poison on the seventh day out. Chronometer had run down. In my agony I forgot to wind. Only one on ship. It was the final catastrophe. Ship helpless. Too weak to get steam on boilers. And so for three days we lay. Knew we must ask assistance to take us to Gibraltar for crew. That was ruin. Ship not insured. If English found cargo it was prison and confiscation. Managed to get steam to give steerage way. I headed for Lisbon. Early morning sighted small brig becalmed. Mate said ‘Take her crew’. It was the Devil’s voice. Went aboard. Captain asked why we came. His wife and child were with him. It was hard. It would have been easy without the woman. But the Mate got behind the Captain, he and two others, and threw him. His wife fainted. Then we pointed pistols. Crew went into boat quietly. One man shot. He fell into the sea.....We left no one on board. The brig was called the Marie Celeste. Would to God I had never seen her. Then the child would be yet alive. I cannot forget the child.”

  A number of discrepancies may be noted in this story, not least why the crew of the Ardorinha stopped for sand at that misbegotten place, and why sand was needed anyway. Secondly, the dying sailor mis-spelt the name of the Mary Celeste - a change unknown until Conan Doyle’s story eleven years after the derelict ship was found. The account was regarded as a melodramatic effort to provide a solution to the mystery but it failed in its attempt to stimulate public interest which relegated the matter to the lower depths of speculation. It was not surprising then that Mr. Greenhough earned little merit or money with his revelation, even with the headline: ‘Skeleton’s Tale in a Bottle.’

  McClure’s Magazine entered the lists once again in May, 1905, with an article entitled: ‘The Terror of the Sea’. The theme of the text was designed to investigate the menace of wrecks and abandoned vessels to other maritime craft and, naturally, reference was made to the Mary Celeste. The author, P.T. McGrath, had contributed articles of interest to other magazines and he was well-known for his venturesome approach to mysteries. No doubt he held his reader’s attention firmly and the titles of earlier works would allow one to come to this conclusion. What person with any imagination at all in 1905 could resist ‘The Peril of the Iceberg’, or ‘The Ocean Graveyard’? Consequently, ‘The Terror of the Sea’ was undeniably a worthy capture for the American magazine. Sadly, however, Mr. McGrath’s knowledge of the facts appeared to have slipped away and his talents fell into the realm of fiction rather than fact. The name of the ship was incorrectly spelt in his story; supposedly it left New York in 1887 - fifteen years after the mystery occurred and two years after the vessel was destroyed; and there were thirteen people on board, when there were truly only ten. He went on to say that she was sighted by a British barque some days out at sea, and the boats were in their davits - but the latter item was totally incorrect. The author placed emphasis on the United States Government which supposedly spared no effort to solve the mystery, although one must suspect that while every sympathy was given to the Captain, the crew, and their families, there was little for any individual, organisation or government to do to provide the real answer to the affair. Four months later, another American publication, Munsey’s Magazine, produced a story entitled ‘Mysteries of the Sea’, by John R. Spears. It was very short but at least it stated the main facts correctly. This effort was of little consequence, however, as the writer failed to present a solution of any kind.

  In relation to the newspaper industry and its involvement with the mystery, perhaps it is possible to move back to Wednesday the eighteenth of December, 1872. Five days after the arrival of the Mary Celeste in Gibraltar, the Court was assembled to hear the salvage claim by the crew of the Dei Gratia. The Gibraltar Chronicle was the journal to benefit mostly, not least through the extra financial benefits occurred from additional sales of the newspaper. The advantage for the Chronicle was considerable: it could report daily on details of the salvage claim being held in Gibraltar on an incident which was now one of international importance. The reports were conducted regularly, presenting the truth to the public so that the mystery surrounding the Mary Celeste was never allowed by them to fall into disrepute. From the background to the legend of the derelict vessel lies the rumour that the Gibraltar Chronicle received a letter in 1909 from a Ramon Alvarado of Columbus, Ohio, who claimed he held the key of the mystery in a cipher message. Further rumour indicates that he forwarded the document, which contained various squiggles and marks, to the Chronicle suggesting that if the cipher was successfully decoded it would reveal everything. One must suppose that the main American Press had already ignored Mr. Alvarado’s claim, therefore it is not surprising that the editor of the Gibraltar Chronicle dismissed the matter likewise. Whether this rumou
r had any credence is of little consequence. What is important is that it served to show that some people who, for reasons of their own, still dwelt on the mystery and that they were willing to submit their own ideas to the Press and other journals, regardless that their feeble attempts were likely to be rejected.

  The Start of the Spate

  The main account of the Mary Celeste was published in 1904 and, with the exception of the two stories promulgated in 1905, it seemed that the ghost had been laid. For years the unsolved mystery was lost in the annals of history and could well have remained that way. This time its resurrection came about by a local paper in Nova Scotia which brought the incident to the attention of the public again. On the twentieth of September, 1912, an obituary appeared in The Digby Weekly Courier. It ran as follows:

  “The last survivor of the Brigantine Mary Celeste has assed away. Captain Oliver E. Deveau died at his home in Brighton on Tuesday, the 10th instant, aged 76 years. The deceased was born at Cape St. Marys’ moving to Brighton when he was a young man. He was an old- time sailor, a thorough officer, and a man capable of sailing a ship to any part of the world. His last voyage was to Cuba some four or five years ago when he was obliged to leave his ship, owing to illness, and return home.”

  Inevitably, all those people who owned or found the derelict ship, or who were connected with her, would ultimately expire but the item concerning the death of the Mate of the Dei Gratia reopened the old wound. After eight years of silence, some publishers, bored with stagnant news of an impending war in Europe, turned back the pages to reach into the past. Not for the first time was Oliver Deveau the originator of a new sea of trouble. In fact the memory of that sailor remained alive long after he had gone to the grave. However, there was soon a second death in this connection. In January, 1913, Captain James Winchester peacefully left this world after many years of mental suffering. He had never been able to erase the incident from his mind and, although it did not affect his longevity, it plagued his mind constantly. He abjectly refused to enter into any discussion about the vessel with anyone. On the ninth of February, 1913, the New York World, with Captain Coffin’s story (printed by them in 1886) still in mind, reflected on Captain Winchester’s theory of alcohol fumes escaping from the hold in a half-hearted attempt to reincarnate the story. This was followed by a series of articles and reprints in America and Britain as a new wave of interest rolled across the Western world. It was almost as though the incident had occurred in the recent past, yet in 1913 over forty years had elapsed since the fateful day the ship was found off the Azores.

  The Nautical Magazine, which was a journal read mainly by merchant navy officers printed an articled entitled: ‘An Unsolved Mystery’ in April, 1913, written by a Mr. J.S. Chapman. Apart from declaring the matter as the greatest mystery of the sea, the author indicated his weakness for research by various errors, such as Captain Griggs instead of Captain Briggs, and Captain Boyce of the Dei Gratia for Captain Morehouse. He mentioned the presence of a German tramp steamer which circled the drifting derelict before the Dei Gratia arrived but felt unable to suggest the name of that vessel or any reason why her crew remained silent.....especially as they would have been able to claim the vessel for salvage to earn themselves a handsome monetary reward. Somehow Mr. Chapman availed himself of facts which had never before emerged from any testimony. In a discourse, where the Captain and crew of the Dei Gratia allegedly discussed their find, they came to the conclusion that those on board left panic-stricken, in the middle of their breakfast, half-dressed and without the aid of a boat. It was indeed a strange affair! The Dei Gratia crew could find no clues to determine the reason for abandonment. The sewing-machine, they declared, was actually being used because a child’s pinafore was being repaired. The machinist had halted halfway across the material to be served breakfast, described precisely as a meal consisting of oatmeal, coffee, bacon and eggs. Mrs. Briggs had opened a bottle of cough mixture after feeding herself and then, without replacing the cork, had disappeared into oblivion. The Captain failed to proceed that far apparently. He had just sliced the top off a boiled egg and then left the cabin, denied thereafter both his breakfast and his life. There was no doubt, in this tale, that the crew left in a great hurry. In the Mate’s room, for example, there was a sheet of paper which carried three rows of figures and only the first had been added. Pipes, tobacco, and other valuables had been left behind, which forced the author to demand what terrible thing caused such fear to strike the hearts of the Captain and his crew. From there onwards, the yarn assumed an even wider path from the truth than any other previously published story concerning the mystery. Theories such as mutiny, piracy, famine, sickness and storm are mentioned, including the appearance of a sea-serpent, but the facts were changed substantially from the truth. For example, the Mary Celeste increased in weight to five hundred tons, with thirteen on board, including the Briggs’ children who were aged seven and twelve years old. The ship’s log indicated that she was abandoned in September.....when at that time she was in reality at a wharf in New York.....and that her position was only three hundred miles from Gibraltar. Other fictitious matter was introduced but, although the author allowed himself full licence relating to the return of the vessel to New York as a hoodoo ship.....avoided by Captains and crews alike.....he was probably closer to the truth in that respect than he imagined. Although she had a master and a crew, there was always an uncomfortably feeling of serving on an ill-fated ship.....similarly to being resident in a haunted house.

  The Strand Magazine was a quality London periodical at the time with an international reputation. Three months after the issue of Chapman’s story, the editor decided to reprint it, subjecting it to a far wider public than the Nautical Magazine could ever have hoped to achieve in the past. It was far too enterprising a journal not to demand public attention and, for the first time, a challenge was issued to four famous novelists to offer their views on the mystery. Morley Roberts was a novelist who had sailed before the mast in his youth and had lived in the South Seas. He had written many stories of the sea and was probably the most qualified of men.....if that connotation could be awarded to anyone.....to provide a reasoned answer. He admitted to have pondered the mystery of the derelict vessel at intervals for thirty years, never to have made a shot at the solution. In his opinion, there was insufficient evidence to draw a conclusion, especially as so little had emerged on the background of the crew. He considered at times there was a conspiracy arranged by the Captain, perhaps for financial gain, but that the plan went wrong. He also suggested that the explanation was probably simpler than the problem.....but more complex. The fact that an analysis on the stains of blood on the sword and woodwork on the ship proved negative forced Roberts to decline any unrealistic notions. The public respected his reticence, recognising his knowledge and experience of the sea.

  Another novelist, Horace Annesley Vachell, had written many books including mysteries in which the chief character was a man named Quinney. His version was totally different to that of the reticent Roberts and was equally useless in contributing to a real solution. In his opinion, an unforeseen phenomenon had occurred which was too much for the crew to accept. With great deliberation, he outlined a story involving a submarine which released a noxious gas, breathed in by all on the Mary Celeste. This affected their sanity to such an extent that they all dived over the ship to perish. No one could theorise who manned the submarine, where it came from, or where it went. Nor could they ascertain which type of gas was used, or the place of its manufacture. In fact, Mr. Vachell did not really solve a mystery.....he increased its potential by introducing other factors which had not previously been considered.