The Sinking of the Independence
As experienced by Andrew Fuller Rodgers and Ellis Elwell (and other unknown young men) of Upper Alton, Illinois.
SINKING OF THE SHIP, INDEPENDENCE
February 16, 1853
We have received letters from my son and some other of the Upper
Alton young men, who were on the unfortunate ship, Independence. I
have made a few extracts in their own words, which may be
interesting to your readers. Signed, Rev. Ebenezer Rodgers (Father
of Andrew F. Rodgers)
Letter from Andrew Fuller Rodgers, Son of Ebenezer Rodgers
Dated April 18, 1853
Source: Alton Daily Telegraph, May 27, 1853
Dear Father,
I arrived in Sacramento on May 4, 1853. You have heard by this time
of the difficulties we had to encounter on our passage. It is
perfectly vain for me to attempt to find language to express and
describe the distress, horror, and consternation which took place
onboard on February 16, a little after daylight. The vessel [the
steamship Independence] struck a rock on Margaretta [Margarita] Island,
and commenced leaking rapidly. The consternation among the ladies
was so great, that they rushed out of their rooms in their
nightclothes. We prevailed on them to go back and dress, but such
was the excitement that they could not do it with any kind of
propriety.
If the ship had sunk where she first struck, not one of us could
have been saved, for the rock on the shore was perpendicular, and
more than two hundred feet high. But as fortune would have it, we
were able to run about two miles to a small beach of sand. The
water, however, rushed into the vessel so fast, that we had to burn
pine plank and resin. The doors then burst open, and set the ship on
fire, and in a short time, she was in a solid blaze. Then the scene
was awful, and past all description. Men drowning, women pulling
their hair off their heads, and shrieking and begging for someone to
save their children. Mothers with their clothes on fire, and their
children in their arms, and as the fire approached their vitals,
jumped overboard and sunk to rise no more. The scene was so horrid
and sickening, that my nerves are too weak to write about it, or to
even think of it.
I think I never was as thankful in my life as I was when I found all
the Alton boys saved, for there was not another company or another
family on board, who did not lose one or more. But Ed Willis, who
knew less about swimming than any of our company, was nearly lost.
When the fire was advancing, I separated from the boys and was
trying to assist Colonel Watson’s family. I picked up their youngest
daughter in my arms, and made my way through the crowd, and told the
rest of the family to follow me to the forward part of the ship. I
found one small boat left at the side of the vessel. I got to the
side where the small boast was, and gave the little girl to her
mother, and got down on the side of the ship and put my leg through
the hawser hole, and held on with one hand, while the Captain passed
the ladies down to me, and I let them fall into the boat. When the
boat was full, I jumped upon deck, and Mr. Farr was standing there
with his little boy by the hand. He caught hold of me, and asked me
to save his boy. I told him I did not know whether I could or not,
but I would do my best. I took his boy by the arm and slid down the
top into the water, and succeeded in getting ashore with him, but
his father, Mr. Farr, in attempting to swim to land, was drowned.
Mr. Farr was an old acquaintance of mine. He used to practice law in
Sacramento [California]. He had been back in Missouri, and married
Miss Phillips of Boone County. The little boy was his child by his
first wife, and about eight years old. I have to pay all the
attention I can to Mrs. Farr and the little boy I saved, who are
here at Sacramento. I am in the Sheriff’s office again, and will
remain here for some time. I lost the papers belonging to my land,
and everything else but my pantaloons and shirt, but I was better
off than many, for some landed on the island perfectly naked.
Colonel Watson has three daughters, one seventeen years old, one
fifteen, and one eight. His only son, eleven years old, was drowned.
The rest of the family we saved. The Alton boys saved a great many,
but after they got to shore, they went into the water to their arm
pits and pulled out the dead and dying. There were, at least, one
hundred and seventy-five lives lost.
My love to all.
Your affectionate son,
Andrew Fuller Rodgers
THE SINKING OF THE SHIP INDEPENDENCE
Letter from Ellis Elwell to John Rodgers
Our passage from San Juan Del Sud was very pleasant until the
morning of February 16. Early that morning, I was waked up by the
ship striking a rock. I got up and looked out, and saw that we were
not more than half a mile from shore. I then looked for our boys,
and found most of them hard at work bailing. But it was of no use,
for they could not make the least impression. After backing her off
the rock, they turned her head on the island, and succeeded in
beaching her in a pretty good place at the distance of two hundred
yards from shore. The vessel took fire about ten minutes after she
was beached. All were running to and fro, laying hold of everything
that could be of any assistance in the water. A great many that
could not swim jumped overboard without anything to hold them up,
and of course, were drowned.
The Alton boys took it perfectly cook, and therefore succeeded in
saving their lives. When she was first beached, I went up above, and
threw down a great many boxes and trunks and other things to the
drowning men, but soon the flames came too near me, and I had to
leave. When I found that all the Alton boys were saved, that was the
happiest moment of my life. There was no other party, consisting of
over four persons, but lost some of their number. There were
thirty-one women aboard, and twelve were lost, and God knows how
many children. The next day, we managed to get some salt pork and
beef out of the hold of the vessel, which we lived on for three
days. Our drink consisted of vinegar and molasses, which served the
purpose very well. But if we had been forced to use it much longer,
there would have been a great many deaths, for the salt meat
increased our thirst. About one half of the number that was drowned
drifted ashore, and we buried them in the sand about two feet deep,
by digging with pieces of plank.
The Captain and Purser, after loitering and idling around a week or
so, chartered a vessel, the Meteor, to convey up to San Francisco
for the sum of twenty thousand dollars. The passengers had to
furnish their own provisions. The ship was small, and we were quite
crowded. Fourteen of us slept in a room, seven feet by nine, but
take all in all, we did pretty well for shipwrecked persons. We left
Magdalena Bay March 03, and arrived in San Francisco March 31,
destitute of everything. But we found a friend who loaned us money
enough to get to Sacramento City. There, we called on our old
generous friend, Mr. John Hatch, and he told us we could have as
much money as we wanted. Such a friend in need is a friend indeed.
Yours, Ellis Elwell
NOTES:
On February 16, 1853, the American steamer, Independence, under the
command of Captain Sampson, with approximately 359 passengers and a
crew of 56, was on a voyage from San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, to San
Francisco, California, when she struck a rock off the south point of
Isla Santa Margarita, off of Baja California, Mexico, within three
hundred yards of the shore. She began to fill with water
immediately, and Captain Sampson tried to beach her in a better
place, but failed. 117 passengers and 15 crew members were drowned
when jumping overboard, or burned to death when the flames from the
boilers set the ship on fire. The flames spread rapidly, as
terrified parents embraced their children. Some jumped overboard,
hoping to make it to shore. Men and women screamed frantically.
Women were seen clambering down the sides of the ship, clinging to
the ropes and rigging. Some were hanging by their skirts, which
caught in the ropes, leaving them dangling piteously. Some of the
women tossed their children overboard, rather than see them burn in
the fire. Those who made it to shore plundered the dead for their
clothing, while others pulled the dead from the water. Alone on the
abandoned island with no fresh water, they survived for three days
until picked up by small ships.
NOTES ON ANDREW FULLER RODGERS:
Andrew Fuller Rodgers was born on October 13, 1827, in Fayette,
Missouri. He was the son of a pioneer Baptist minister, Reverend
Ebenezer Rodgers and Permelia M. Jackson Rodgers. His father was a
native of England, who immigrated to America in 1818, locating first
in Louisville, Kentucky, then Fayette, Missouri. The family moved to
Upper Alton, and located on a 40 acre farm east of Upper Alton (near
the present-day Gordon Moore Park). Rev. Rodgers served as one of
the early trustees of Shurtleff College. A total of ten or twelve
children were born to Rev. Rodgers and his wife. Andrew F. Rodgers
was one of the early students of Shurtleff College. In 1844 he
became a clerk in a St. Louis hardware store, but returned to Upper
Alton before the outbreak of war with Mexico (1846). He enlisted in
the Second Illinois Infantry, and was a brave and respected solider.
After the war he returned home, but farm life was dull and
unexciting. He joined the gold rush to California in 1849, and
served as Deputy Sheriff of Sacramento County, and was a member of
the famed Sutter Rifle Company. Andrew returned home for a visit,
and on his return voyage in 1853 to California, onboard the American
steamer, “Independence,” he was shipwrecked. He was one of the
survivors, and saved many lives that fateful night.
After the shipwreck, Andrew again served as a deputy sheriff in
California until 1853, when he entered the mining business. The
following year his father died, and Andrew returned home to Upper
Alton in July 1854. He married in 1860, and lived on the farm until
the outbreak of the Civil War. In 1862, he enlisted as Captain of
Company B, of the Eightieth Illinois Infantry. He was appointed
Lieutenant Colonel of the regiment, and served with distinction. He
was wounded, but recovered, continuing his service. In 1863 his unit
was captured in Georgia, and was kept as a prisoner of war in
Danville, Georgia. He was transferred to the notorious Libby prison,
spending twelve months there, until he was transferred to a prison
in Charleston. While in prison, Andrew was commissioned a Colonel.
Upon his return to the North, he recruited 500 men for the 144th
Illinois Regiment, which served as guards at the Alton prison. He
resigned from the army on November 25, 1864.
After the war he lived on his farm and was a leader in civic
affairs. In 1870 he was elected to the State legislature. In later
years, a young girl that he had saved after the shipwreck of the
Independence discovered where he was living, and came to Upper Alton
to thank him for saving her life. Colonel Rodgers died on January
20, 1922, and was buried in the Upper Alton Oakwood Cemetery.
SUGGESTED READING ON THE WRECK OF THE INDEPENDENCE:
The S. S. Independence, on Wrecksite.eu
Ship Passengers – Sea Captains, a Maritime Heritage Project