There was a storm 140 years ago today that had a profound effect on meteorology. The Royal Charter was a steamship of some 2,700 tons that also carried sail. It had left Melbourne in Australia two months previously, bound for Liverpool with 430 passengers and crew. It called at Cobh in Co Cork, then known as Queenstown, and on the morning of October 25th, 1859, it weighed anchor for the final leg of its long voyage. By early morning of the 26th, the Royal Charter was steaming eastwards north of Anglesea.
The "Royal Charter storm", as it has come to be known, was an extreme event by any standards. It seems to have developed as a small depression west of the Azores, and by 9 a.m. on October 25th it had deepened and reached Brest in northern France. From there it moved towards Plymouth, passing over the Eddystone lighthouse, and headed north-northeast. Eighteen hours later, at 3 a.m. on October 26th, it was 80 miles to the east of Anglesea - and the Royal Charter. As the wind increased to hurricane force in the succeeding hours, the vessel ran aground, and 400 of the passengers aboard were drowned.
Shipwrecks in those days were not uncommon. Indeed, between October 21st and November 2nd of that year, 1859, more than 200 vessels, large and small, were wrecked in Irish and British waters. But because of the great loss of life involved, the Royal Charter tragedy impinged upon the public mind. There was, of course - as even in those days there was after any incident of note - a tribunal of inquiry. As a consequence Admiral Robert FitzRoy of the British Navy was charged with organising a system of "storm warnings" which were to be sent to threatened coastal areas over the newly-invented electric telegraph. And thus, a few years later, came the forerunners of the "shipping forecast" that we know today.
The story has a denouement that involves one other tragic death. For a time all went well, and the new facility was warmly welcomed. But then it was noticed that FitzRoy's forecasts were very often wrong; some were unkind enough to attribute the failures to "the singularly uncouth and obscure dialect employed by the Admiral in his explanations".
FitzRoy took this criticism very seriously. In the succeeding years he became increasingly morose, and on the morning of April 30th, 1865, he rose early, left his wife asleep in bed, and proceeded to his dressing room. The body of the unhappy Admiral was found a short time later; he had applied an open razor to his throat and killed himself.