‘Throughout the early 1830s, cholera repeatedly ravaged the poorest classes, and, in the decade as a whole, the potato crop failed on a local level in eight out of the ten years. — www.irishtimes.com

A couple of weeks ago, this newspaper published a short article that fired an opening salvo that ‘historic shipwrecks that dot Bermuda waters are one of the Island’s greatest assets’, or so ‘it has been claimed’, (somewhat taking the bang out of the broadside).

Perhaps unconvinced himself, the reporter sailed on to state that according to the government Custodian of Historic Wrecks, Dr Philippe Rouja, of the Department of Conservation Services, “the wrecks and other historical connections are one of Bermuda’s unique features that play an integral part in the Island’s appeal as a tourist destination”.

Avoiding any journalistic reefs, the article addressed a film made by BBC Scotland on one of the Confederate blockade runners at Bermuda, all good international advertising for the Island that supports Dr Rouja’s claim on the economic value of shipwrecks for cultural tourism.

Many a ship has come to an unfortunate end on the jagged rocks that are the extensive chain of reef that protects Bermuda, in a natural way, from the full ravages of oft-stormy seas of the open ocean.

Shipwrecks have taken place around the Island from the 1500s into modern times, though some like the Tifoso (a massive tanker that struck the reefs in early April 1983) came off the reefs to be sunk in deep water, a disenchanting experience for the crew and perhaps the owners, depending on insurance values.

Unlike Ireland, sometimes called the ‘Enchanted Isle’, Bermuda was the ‘Isle of Devils’, a description that should include those earthly ones who, it is sometimes claimed, enticed vessels onto the rocks (and people to their deaths) by lighting false signals on places like Wreck Hill.

As the home of spiritual devils and sirens (enchantresses casting spells), the Island was a place to avoid until after settlement in 1612, from which time it became to many an enchanted isle, as both Britain and Ireland are so named on occasion.

Such, however, was not likely the view of the Irish immigrants who ended up on the reefs on a stormy day in 1837, a number of weeks out of Europe and some days out of food (though the whiskey flowed for some, as a respite to impending death).

Those unfortunate souls were aboard the inappropriately named vessel Enchantress.

A report by archaeological students Abigail Casavant, Jessica Glickman and Emma Heidtman amplifies events surrounding the emigrant ship from this newspaper: “Closer examination of the Gazette reveals that the Enchantress sank on February 7th, 1837.

“She had sailed from Liverpool, England, on November 21st 1836 and was bound for New York.

“On board were 74 passengers, all Irish emigrants, and several crew members. John William Shaw of Liverpool had chartered the vessel for the sum of £750 to take goods and steerage passengers across the Atlantic.’

“The ship’s ‘protest’ [a legal document filed by the master for insurance purposes] details a tumultuous voyage marked by storms, rowdy passengers and crew, and two deaths.

“While one passenger died of unknown causes, the other, named as Mr Rowing, fell from the main deck into the sea on January 27th during a particularly turbulent storm.

“He was never seen again. On February 3rd, a crew member discovered that the passengers had broken into the hold in the middle of the night.

“By candlelight, they had consumed the several casks of whiskey from which some of the crew members had already become intoxicated. Four days later, the Enchantress met her watery fate on the reefs of Bermuda.”

One may wonder why the Irish passengers would want to venture onto the high seas of the North Atlantic, risking life and limb (and whiskey cargo), for an uncertain future in the United States.

Life in Ireland, however, was no more certain and in 1816—18 for example, some fifty thousand people perished due to crop destruction, typhus and smallpox.

Repeated failures of potato cultivation led to considerable emigration, the poorest souls went to Britain, while those who could afford a sea voyage embarked for Canada and the US, some 200,000 making the Atlantic trip in the years 1830-35 alone.

The benighted souls on the Enchantress were a part of that trend from the Enchanted Isle of the Old World, in part to the slums of the New.

However, while the Bermudians assisted the shipwrecked survivors with usual hospitality, they were anxious that the emigrants be on their way to the US and not remain here.

The possibly disenchanted Irish left behind the bones of their ship on the Bermuda reefs and recent work by an archaeological field school from St Mary’s College of California and the University of Rhode Island, with comparison to artefacts found by Edward (Teddy) Tucker many years ago, suggests that The Enchantress may be the shipwreck that the schools have been recording for several years, otherwise known here by the nickname of the “Iron Plate Wreck”.

The science of archaeology is directly tied to Dr Philippe Rouja’s assertion of the heritage and tourism (economic) value of shipwrecks, in that their value is enhanced and secured for posterity (for ourselves and our visitors), if the sites of the remains of the unfortunate vessels are recorded by archaeological methods.

Field schools such as those from the University of Rhode Island and St Mary’s College have therefore been carrying out a great service for Bermuda, since an active programme of archaeological research was initiated by the National Museum, then the Maritime Museum, in the early 1980s.

The results of some of that work by those overseas volunteers and friends of Bermuda have culminated in the magnificent new exhibition, “Shipwreck Island”, at the National Museum, which displays also includes finds from earlier shipwreck work on our reefs by local divers.

Perhaps the descendants of those 1837 Irish emigrants will be enchanted to know that their ancestors’ Atlantic ship may possibly have been identified and will one day take its place in the exhibitions at the National Museum, along with the story of their people’s first tourism experience with the Isle of Devils.

Edward Cecil Harris, MBE, JP, PHD, FSA is Director of the National Museum. Comments may be made to director@nmb.bm or 704-5480.