The Sutton Hoo Ship-Burial

What is a shipwreck?

The summer of 2019 marks the 80th anniversary of the excavations which led to one of the most spectacular Anglo-Saxon discoveries ever made, the ship-burial at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk. In August 1939 the contents of the burial were the subject of an inquest to determine whether or not they constituted treasure trove (they did not). (1) The astonishing finds discussed at the inquest on August 14 attracted a good deal of media attention over the ensuing fortnight, fascinating a public facing the imminent prospect of war.

Building on the previous year’s excavation works, archaeological excavations had resumed in May 1939. As Mound 1 was opened up, both landowner Edith Pretty and archaeologist Basil Brown were keen to see what they would discover. They may have had an inkling from the 1938 excavation, in which a lesser burial mound (Mound 2) had yielded ship rivets and a ‘boat shape’, but which had been robbed of associated grave goods in the past – but nothing could have prepared them for the find of a lifetime.

Within a few days a rivet was also discovered in Mound 1, and as more rivets emerged, it became clear that this was another ship-burial also containing an artefact assemblage which had defied earlier attempts at robbery.

Organic material, such as the hull timbers, had long since vanished in the acid soil. What was left was an intact ‘ghost impression’ of the ship, the disposition of the rivets bearing witness to its original clinker planking, and evenly spaced ridges of sand where the ribs had once been. In the same way the arrangement of personal artefacts, reflecting their natural position on or beside the body, revealed the original resting place of the deceased, whose remains had been similarly consumed by the soil.

Historic 1939 B&W film still showing archaeologists at work within the 'ship-shape' with the ship structure visible in the sand, and all the rivets still in situ.
The ‘ghost impression’ of the buried ship as revealed in 1939. Still from a film made by H. J. Phillips, brother of Charles Phillips: permission for unlimited use granted by son William Phillips and grandson Jeremy Gilbert.

It was a very special ship with a very special ‘passenger’ and ‘cargo’, a high-status male burial containing an extremely diverse, rich, and finely-wrought, assemblage of artefacts from the Anglo-Saxon world and beyond. Since that summer of 1939 this assemblage has been assigned to the early 7th century and has been interpreted as the grave of Raedwald, King of East Anglia, who was noted in a 9th century chronicle as bretwalda with some form of overlordship over other Anglo-Saxon kings.

If the ship was deliberately deposited, hauled up from the nearby River Deben, ten miles from the sea, as the river meanders, and intended for preservation by burial, rather than destruction, why are we making it the subject of a Wreck of the Week?

This article weaves together the diversity of our wreck heritage, the features the Sutton Hoo ship-burial shares with more conventional wreck archaeology, and the context of war, since the find also foreshadows the 80th anniversary of the outbreak of the Second World War.

The key driver for interpreting the Sutton Hoo burial as a ‘wreck’ in one sense is because of the very disappearance of the ship itself. By contrast, a number of Viking Age ship-burials in Norway, relatively close in date, cultural milieu and deposit context, have been well-preserved (Oseberg, c.820, discovered 1903-4; Gokstad, c.890, found 1879; and Tune, c.900-910, excavated 1867). Unlike these examples, the ship at the centre of the Sutton Hoo burial has been ‘wrecked’ literally by the sands of time, namely its 1,300 years from deposit to discovery within a mound of sandy and acidic soil.

It is certainly an unusual ‘wrecking’ process, and despite its proximity to the river, one well outside a waterborne context, which makes it all the more unusual. The nearest parallels in the British Isles lie outside an English context, for example the Viking Age ship-burials at Ardnamurchan, Scotland, and Balladoole on the Isle of Man, in both of which the timbers have also leached away.

Also exceptional, from a maritime point of view, is the way the mound has acted as ‘destroyer’ rather than ‘preserver’ of the vessel: unlike the grave mounds built on land by human hands, wreck mounds tend to form by a natural accretion process, helping to preserve timbers and other organic contents within an anaerobic environment that prevents or delays decay (as can be seen on artefacts from the designated Rooswijk of 1740, for example).

Wreck processes in the inter-tidal zone and in or immediately beside rivers often provide visible and accessible illustrations of underwater wreck processes. For example, the scour pit around the wreck of the Amsterdam (1749, also designated) in the inter-tidal zone at Bulverhythe demonstrates on land how sunken vessels can ‘scour out’ a pit for themselves by their own motion against that of the tides and currents of the surrounding water column.

In the same vein, the two wrecks at the designated Salcombe Cannon site (identified from their associated assemblages as Bronze Age and 17th century respectively) demonstrate within the marine zone how the geology of the site environment itself, as at Sutton Hoo, can act as a medium of destruction and decay. A dynamic environment, full of rocky gullies, has eroded any remaining timbers, although those same gullies have sheltered and preserved the cargo scatters.

Elsewhere a cargo may demonstrate the presence of a wreck without an associated hull which may either have degraded or remains to be discovered, such as the Roman-era Pudding Pan Wreck in the Thames Estuary, which has yielded quantities of Samian ware over the centuries. In retaining its rich assemblage without its originating vessel, the Sutton Hoo burial has a point of contact with such wreck sites.

In some ways, the ‘wreck process’ associated with the lesser-known Mound 2 ship was similar to that of Mound 1, with the same acid soil working on its timbers. However, there were other intervening events between deposit and discovery which contributed to the loss not only of the vessel but also of its context. Unlike Mound 2, the rivets were scattered and no longer bore witness to the original vessel structure, having been disturbed by earlier grave-robbing activity. Essentially this activity was a historic example of what we would today designate a heritage crime.

Such problems could be exacerbated by the archaeological standards prevailing at the time of discovery. We have covered this before in our earlier post on Anglo-Saxon wrecks in the Manchester Ship Canal but there were others: as far back as 1862 an Anglo-Saxon ship-burial was discovered at Snape, also in Suffolk. Although the site was recorded and published, and some physical evidence survives in the form of the iron rivets which were also found on that site, our understanding of this vessel remains incomplete. Between the site’s original discovery and further archaeological exploration in the 20th century, the landscape was much altered by ploughing with the loss of detail and context. This particular case highlights the importance of careful survey and recording, which guards against knowledge and/or site loss, and acts as ‘preservation by record’.

Four incomplete iron rivets seen against a white background.
Iron rivets from the Snape ship-burial, on display at Aldeburgh Moot Hall Museum. User:Midnightblueowl [CC BY-SA 3.0 (]
In 1970, another Anglo-Saxon vessel, a clinker-built boat dated to the late 9th century, was discovered at Graveney, Kent, during excavations for a drainage channel in the local marshland. It has been interpreted as a sea-going vessel, abandoned in the marshes approximately a kilometre from the sea, and thus from a different context entirely to a ship-burial.

Such loss through abandonment appears to be typical in the records of many boats discovered archaeologically in the 19th century and early 20th centuries and attributed to the Anglo-Saxon or Viking periods or even earlier. It is plausible that many such vessels were initially laid up over a period of time, with the intention of being brought back into use again (not dissimilar in some ways to the point with which we started, the determination of treasure trove!).

Such vessels, whether as logboats or more formally built with worked timbers, then passed completely out of use, through obsolescence, the economics of repair, or perhaps simply on the death of their original owners. These hulks are analogous to the many Thames barges which worked the river up until the mid 20th century and which now lie rotting on the shores of Essex and Kent. The Sutton Hoo mound likewise looks across the River Deben to two modern hulk assemblages on the opposite bank at Ferry Cliff and Sun Wharf. These hulks have been either forgotten or deliberately abandoned and the long slow process of decay has transformed these vessels into ‘wrecks’, in the sense of vessels  no longer capable of their original navigational function.

Historic sepia photograph of two pine tree tops looking down below to a river scene, with the adjoining bank visible below the trees and the opposite bank in the distance, across the middle of the image.
A late 19th-early 20th century view past pine trees across the River Deben at Woodbridge. The Sutton Hoo ship burial was discovered close to this spot in 1939. Source: Historic England Archive

The relative ease of logboat excavation in the Victorian or Edwardian periods means that these have been particularly prone to being lost post-excavation, because of the archaeological recording and storage standards then prevailing. It is arguable that their discovery can be seen as the final stage of a long-drawn-out ‘wreck process’ regardless of the original owners’ intentions or context of deposit, a fate shared with the subject of a recent post, the Ship under the Power Station.

The most dramatic example of such a fate was a Bronze Age boat discovered in 1886, carefully preserved by Victorian standards and put on display in Hull and East Riding Museum. It was finally destroyed or ‘wrecked’ in possibly the most extreme example of a multi-phase wreck process recorded in England – during a Second World War bombing raid which severely damaged the museum itself in 1943.

It is extraordinary to think that the Hull Bronze Age boat not only shares a multi-phase loss process with many other craft of different types and eras, but also has something in common with vessels of 1940s construction sunk in coastal waters by the 1940s means of air attack.

By any standards the Sutton Hoo ship-burial was an extraordinary archaeological discovery. Although not unknown in a national or international context, ship-burials remain rare finds, while the remarkable grave goods within have done much to inform our understanding of the Anglo-Saxon period. Despite more recent Anglo-Saxon discoveries of comparable magnificence such as the Prittlewell Princely Burial or the Staffordshire Hoard, the Sutton Hoo ship-burial retains its significance and glamour.

One of the ways in which the importance of Sutton Hoo was recognised was immediate: the site was Scheduled as an Ancient Monument in November 1939, two months into the war, and the assemblage would spend the war in storage, along with many other national treasures.

Other Anglo-Saxon boats have also been discovered before and since, but to date there have been no known Anglo-Saxon finds in the marine zone, although the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records a few wreck events. The surviving written record, however, is pitifully thin by comparison to the number of wrecks which must in reality have occurred, simply by the very nature of seaborne traffic (touched on in a previous post, 1066 and All That). It is a reminder that the goods in the Sutton Hoo ship-burial, such as the Frankish coins and Byzantine bucket, were all the more valuable for safely arriving following a sea voyage.

The Sutton Hoo ship-burial bridges ‘marine’ and ‘terrestrial’ archaeology, in which patterns shared with wreck archaeology can be clearly seen. Despite some parallels such as at Balladoole, it is also the only ‘wreck’ we know of in an English context discovered by clear evidence of what was once there, rather than a simple absence of surviving ship structure, and thus so far unique within England’s diverse wreck heritage.

Had the burial not been discovered in the summer of 1939, just before Britain went to war, perhaps much of its context would have been compromised. Over the next few years Mound 1 would be subjected to intrusive military activity which has left its scars on the landscape, and which could so easily have damaged or destroyed the ‘negative impression’ of the ship.

This post also paves the way for our upcoming War Diary for the Second World War, commencing in September 2019.


(1)  It was determined that they were clearly buried as part of a highly public funeral rite, with no intention of recovery, so that ownership passed to the finder (rather than hidden in secrecy with the intention of later recovery, in which case they would have been deemed treasure trove and thus assigned to Crown ownership).


The Sirius

For the ‘dog days’ of summer, associated with Sirius, the ‘dog star’, we welcome our guest blogger Tanja Watson, one of Historic England’s Marine Information Officers. Tanja is currently undertaking a project to update our records for Swedish wrecks around the coast of England. Here she highlights the story of a ship named Sirius, wrecked in 1901:

Medal awarded for heroic rescue of Swedish crew

Following on from Ken Hamilton’s recent account of the Swedish vessel Vicuna, lost during the Great Storm of 1883 when over 50 vessels and over 200 crew went down around the North Sea, the Swedish ship Sirius was lost off County Durham, during the Great Storm of 11 to 14 November 1901, which saw around 48 ships lost in England alone. (1) With wind speeds reaching up to force 11 (one point short of a hurricane), it has been described as ‘one of the greatest human disasters before the Great War’. (2)

B&W photo of coastline with large waves crashing on cliffs to the left of the image.
View of storm conditions on the nearby Terrace Beach, Seaham, County Durham, during the ‘North Sea Flood’ storm of 31 January 1953. © and by kind permission of David Angus

The 1901 storm led to a tremendous rescue effort, particularly on the north-east coast of England, which saw some make the ultimate sacrifice to save others, while other rescuers were helpless to save the shipwrecked sailors. (3)

Central to this story is the Silver Medal and official recognition awarded by the Swedish government in gratitude for the bravery and determination shown by the four coastguards who not only managed to rescue the crew of the Sirius, a Swedish barquentine (also described as a schooner) but also that of the Miss Thomas, an English schooner. Both stranded on the same day, Tuesday 12 November 1901, near Hawthorn Hive, between Seaham and Easington in County Durham.

The Sirius, a 223-ton sailing vessel, was built in 1875 in the tiny harbour village of Sikeå, northern Sweden. (4) Although originally named Sikeå, she was re-registered as Sirius to Nyhamn (now Nyhamnsläge) (5) in southern Sweden. On the day she struck, she was bound from Shoreham-by-Sea to Sunderland in ballast to load coal destined for Helsingborg. (6)

The rocks along this stretch of coastline are broken, rugged and pierced by caverns. Hawthorn, a small agricultural village once surrounded by collieries, with a population of 513 in 1901 (7) had a coastguard station (now a ruin) at Hawthorn Hive and rocket posts at Hawthorn Dene. (8) The station was manned by the Seaham Harbour Life Brigade, (9) one of the Volunteer Life Brigades which once assisted the coastguard services nationally and whose heritage lives on in the three surviving Life Brigades of the nearby coast at Tynemouth, South Shields and Sunderland.

Historic sepia photo of man crossing a small footbridge over a river in light snow and ice conditions. ne gorge lightly dusted with snow.
Hawthorn Dene with the silhouette of the Coastguard Station top left. (HAW 036) © and by kind permission of David Angus

The Sirius struck rocks and stranded half a mile south of the beach. Local newspapers each focus on different aspects of the story. A Swedish newspaper describes it from the point of view of the crew: Captain (Christer or Christian) Pettersson and his crew of 8 were literally between a rock and a hard place. Their lives were at risk either way whether they stayed with the vessel or swam to shore: ‘One of the sailors flung himself into the water with a rope around his waist and attempted to reach land, but it broke off in the strong breakers. Realising what had happened, the rest of the crew quickly donned their life belts, jumped into the sea and started to swim ashore.’ Not long after, the schooner was completely smashed and sank out of sight. Upon reaching the shoreline, the men then discovered the sharp rocks and almost vertical cliffs impossible to scale. (10)

The local news in Tyneside focused on the rescuers’ side of the story:

‘After the crew got ashore, all of them being in an exhausted condition from exposure, they had to be assisted by the coastguards over the rocks and shingle, a distance over a mile, and frequently had to wade breast deep in the surf. They also ran the danger of being hemmed in by the rising tide. The lacerated hands of the coastguards, caused by falling on the jagged rocks, are striking evidence of the heroism and fortitude displayed in the work of rescue.’  (11)

There are a number of clues in the story which tell us where the wreck actually came to grief. The details of ‘half a mile south of the beach’ at Hawthorn Hive, the inhospitable cliffs which confronted the shipwrecked sailors, and the ‘jagged rocks’ which ‘lacerated’ the rescuers’ hands, place the location of the wreck in the vicinity of Shippersea Bay or a little further south at Shippersea Point. The rocks lie in the inter-tidal zone, so also fit well with the incoming tide and the slippery journey over the rocks ‘breast deep’ in water. The distance the coastguards helped the men, ‘over a mile’, would also be well accounted for by the place where they ended up, as we shall see.

Colour photograph taken from the top of grass-covered cliffs on the left, looking down to an empty beach with bare, vertical cliffs rising from it at centre; to the right rocks and sea, all seen under a cloudy sky.
View of the coastline at Shippersea Bay, south of Hawthorn Hive, 2009. CC-BY-SA/2.0 – © Colin Park –

Other than the master’s name, we know little about the Swedish crew, but we know a little more about their rescuers, led by two coastguards named Stroud and Baldwin, assisted by Healy and Sanderson, the head- and under-gardeners at nearby Hawthorn Tower. (12) The rescued men were first taken to the coastguard station, then, perhaps at the gardeners’ suggestion, on to Hawthorn Tower, which was the home of John Stapylton Grey Pemberton, MP for Sunderland, and his wife Nira, who personally attended to them.

Hawthorn Tower, near the mouth of Hawthorn Dene, was a large Gothic Revival house built by John Dobson in 1821 and purchased by the Pemberton family in the late 1850s, who remained in residence until circa 1910. Following requisitioning and sale in the aftermath of the Second World War, the house became a ruin and was demolished in 1969. No trace of it now remains, but its private railway platform can still be seen in Hawthorn Dene. (13)

Historic B&W aerial photo of building complex with main courtyard house in centre, set in an open landscape with clumps of trees.
Photograph of Hawthorn Towers, a Gothic-style mansion with 30 rooms. (HAW 027) © and by kind permission of David Angus

Having often lost all their belongings, charities (such as the Shipwrecked Mariners’ Society) were set up to help shipwrecked sailors get home as soon as possible from anywhere in Britain. Foreign sailors were sent to their nearest consulate, which would pay for their onward travel, so the crew of the Sirius would have gone to the Swedish-Norwegian consulate in Sunderland, which was only 11 miles away. (At the time Sweden was still in a union with Norway, with both kingdoms sharing the same monarch and a common foreign policy between 1814 and 1905.)

The courage displayed in this one incident, among so many in the disastrous storm of 1901, did not go unremarked. The story was taken up again 14 months later, in 1903, when Mr Pemberton would give a speech at the award ceremony held in honour of the coastguards, where, according to a newspaper from the crew’s home region, ‘he emphasized the bravery of the coastguards’ deeds which he could personally appreciate as he once, seventeen years previously, had managed to save a life on the same coast and under much more benign conditions’. Mr Pemberton ended with ‘thanking the Swedish government for its good memory and highlighting the friendly relationship that has always existed between the British nation and Sweden.’ (14)

The Sunderland press gave further details of the ceremony which enlarged on the nature of the ceremony – not the usual presentation of RNLI or other home awards for gallantry, but one which was a fully-fledged diplomatic affair.

‘To-day a large gathering of villagers and others was held in the schoolroom, Hawthorn, to witness presentations for bravery in rescuing the crew of the Swedish vessel Sirius, which went ashore at Hawthorn Hythe during the gale in November. The circumstances having been reported to the Swedish Government, an intimation was sent to Mr E.U. Wancke, Consular representative at Sunderland, that it had been decided to give medals. —

‘The awards were as follows: -Stroud, a silver medal from the King of Sweden, in case suspended from a ribbon denoting the Swedish national colours. His Majesty also sent to the other Coastguard and gardeners £1 10s each. There were present Mr Wancke and Commander Stokes, R.N., of the Coastguard at Sunderland. The presentations were made by Mr Pemberton, who spoke in a most eulogistic manner of the gallantry of the four men. Mr Wancke also spoke, and thanked Mr Pemberton, on behalf of the Swedish Government, for having kindly undertaken to hand over the awards.’ (15)

Colour photo of two sides of silver medal on black background, suspended from crown and blue and yellow ribbon. To left, profile of bearded man surrounded by Latin inscription; to right Right side: recipient’s name GEORGE JOSEPH STROUD underneath a wreath, also surrounded by a Latin inscription.
Photo of George Stroud’s silver medal, The Medal for Laudable Actions, which surfaced at auction in 2005. The obverse shows Oscar II (1829–1907) in profile with Latin inscription: Oscar II Rex Sveciae et Norvegiae Goth. et Vandal. The reverse names the recipient underneath a wreath, surrounded by the Latin inscription Sui Memores Alios Fecere Merendo (They have through their deeds made others remember them). Image courtesy of Dix Noonan Webb Ltd.

The ceremony apparently closed with three hearty cheers for the Swedish-Norwegian consul, (16) who was probably the prime mover behind the award, being in a position to make a recommendation to the Swedish authorities.

Historic B&W photo of seated man in dark moustache and beard, wearing a formal dress uniform with gold braid to his cuffs and trousers, holding a scroll in his right hand and a gold braided bicorn hat in his left.
Photograph of Mr Elof Ulrik Wancke (1855-1943). Disappointed by the lack of an official diplomatic uniform, he is seen here in one of his own design. © and by kind permission of John Green

The award of medals by foreign powers for gallant sea rescues was not that common, but seems to have peaked around 1880-1920. Examples of foreign medals awarded to British crews around this time included those from the Russian Matador, lost in 1902. For the rescue of the crew, the lifeboat coxswain was awarded the Russian Silver Medal and his crew Certificates of Merit. Of the lifeboat crew who rescued the men from the Norwegian Geir, lost in 1908, the coxswain was awarded the British RNLI Silver Medal, while another received a silver medal from the King of Norway.

The Miss Thomas also deserves a mention, of course. Built in 1864, and thus slightly older than the Sirius, she was also in ballast when she stranded near Hawthorn en route from Dover for the Tyne. Registered in either Plymouth or London (sources vary), her master, G Hitchens, and his crew of five were all rescued in wind conditions of SE force 7.

Local and international papers covered the storm as it unfolded, particularly include the full-rigged French schooner Quillota from Nantes with 19 aboard, wrecked at Sunderland; the Swedish three-masted barque Trio, lost in Hartlepool Bay with seven lives (drawing of the wreck, Kalmar County Museum); and the Norwegian barque Inga with all but one of her 16 crew. The latter, a large iron sailing ship, 1,100 tons and 200 feet long, sank within sight of Tyne Dock having sailed all the way from Adelaide, Australia. We can see therefore that sailing vessels were disproportionately affected by the storm, demonstrating the advantages of the steamship, by now the key vessel type.

At the turn of the century, coastguard stations usually consisted of six to eight men, while smaller or sub-stations would number around three. Recruited exclusively from the Navy and the Naval Reserve, any man connected with the force could be called up for duty. In 1901, the coastguard service numbered between 4,000 and 5,000 men, who were required for both day and night patrol. (17)

Seaham’s coastguard station was much larger than Hawthorn’s and was also involved in the storm. On 12 November their coastguards were battling to rescue the crew of Alkor. a Russian schooner transporting coal, which stranded and was lost in wind conditions E force 10, from which we can see that the violence of the storm was exacerbated by its variability compared to the other wrecks. Three men were saved, while three drowned. (18) It was from Seaham Harbour reports of the Hawthorn rescue were initially sent out to the press, and there would no doubt have been close ties between the two stations.

By interrogating the sources we are not only able to highlight a tale of courage, but also to set it in its historical, social and geographical context: in England, this was one wreck among many, with more detail in Swedish accounts; we can see that rescue was a complete community effort in a small village; and by combining details from the reports we can pinpoint the place of loss.

Historic B&W map of stretch of coastline, showing fields to the left, a contour of rocks and sand and blank white space to the right.

Map of Hawthorn Hive in 1898, with Shippersea Bay to the south. Hawthorn Tower and the Coastguard station are visible respectively north and south of Hawthorn Dene, which lies to the west of Hawthorn Hive.  Historic Ordnance Survey mapping: © and database right Crown Copyright and Landmark Information Group Ltd (All rights reserved 2019) Licence numbers 000394 and TP0024


(1) Evening Chronicle, 8 Mar 2002, Storm turned the North coast into ships’ graveyard; Historic England’s National Record of the Historic Environment (NRHE) database lists 48 known wrecks for this period

(2) Philip Eden, Change in the weather, A&C Black,  2006, p. 104

(3) South Tyneside County Council, 19 Feb 2007, Great Storm of 1901 Remembered

(4) National Library of Sweden, Höganäs Tidning 19 November 1901, No.137, p3 (in Swedish: translated by the author)

(5) National Library of Sweden, Höganäs Tidning, 28 January 1902, No.12, p2 (in Swedish: translated by the author)

(6) National Library of Sweden, Höganäs Tidning, 14 November 1901, No.35, p2 (in Swedish: translated by the author)

(7) Durham Records Online, 1901 Census Hawthorn

(8) Durham County Council and Northumberland County Council, Keys to the Past (nd), Hawthorn (County Durham); Coastwalkblog, (nd) County Durham, Coastwalk #4, Seaham to Hartlepool

(9) The Shields Daily News, 15 November 1901, No.12,496, p3

(10) National Library of Sweden, Höganäs Tidning 19 November 1901, No.137, p3 (in Swedish: translated by the author)

(11) The Shields Daily News, 15 November 1901, No.12,496, p3

(12) Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, 14 Jan 1903, No.9,046, p6

(13) Durham County Council and Northumberland County Council, Keys to the Past, (nd) Hawthorn Tower; Lost Heritage – England’s lost country houses, Hawthorn Tower

(14) National Library of Sweden, Sydsvenska Dagbladet 20 January 1903, No.18, p3

(15) Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, 14 Jan 1903, p3

(16) National Library of Sweden, Sydsvenska Dagbladet 20 January 1903, No.18, p3

(17) Alfred T Story, “Hands Round the Coast“, The Strand Magazine, Sep 1901, vol. xxii, pp279- 286

(18) Delpher, Rotterdamsch nieuwsblad, 16 Nov 1901, No.24, p3, Scheepstijdningen – London 14 Nov 1901