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Title: The Loss of His Majesty's Frigate Anson - Which was Wrecked within Three Miles of Helston, December 28, 1807 Author: Unknown Language: English As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available. *** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Loss of His Majesty's Frigate Anson - Which was Wrecked within Three Miles of Helston, December 28, 1807" *** produced from scans of public domain works at The National Library of Australia.) [Illustration: W Elmes Loss of the Anson, frigate, off Cornwall. Pub. by Thos. Tegg. 111, Cheapside, Aug. 1808.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY’S FRIGATE ANSON, Which was Wrecked WITHIN THREE MILES OF HELSTON, DECEMBER 28, 1807, AND ABOUT FIFTY PERSONS LOST. ------- ALSO AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE OF THE LOSS OF The Sidney, WHICH RAN UPON A DANGEROUS ROCK OR SHOAL, MAY 20, 1808, AND ONLY A FEW OF THE CREW PRESERVED; ------- TOGETHER WITH Several genuine Anecdotes, AND ACCOUNTS OF DREADFUL FAMINES AT SEA. ------------------------------------ LONDON: Printed for THOMAS TEGG, 111, CHEAPSIDE. ------- PRICE ONLY SIXPENCE. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ LOSS OF HIS MAJESTY’S FRIGATE ANSON, Which was wrecked near HELSTON, DECEMBER 29, 1807. ------- THE following account of the unfortunate loss of his Majesty’s frigate Anson, and of the much lamented death of Captain Lydiard, is communicated by the captain’s steward, who was continually about his person, and on whose veracity our readers may depend. “On the 27th of December, 1807, cruizing off the Black Rocks, and perceiving the approach of a gale, kept a look out for the commodore in the Dragon. The next morning (Monday) the gale increasing from the S.W. and not perceiving the Dragon in any direction, at nine o’clock, shaped our course for the Lizard, with a view of getting into Falmouth. “At twelve o’clock all hands upon deck, the sea running very high; two bowsprits on the starboard-side washed away by the violence of the sea; also a port abreast the main-mast, by which means she shipped a great deal of water. “The captain sent for the master at the time, to determine the situation of the ship; and at half-past twelve o’clock, or thereabout, land was seen about two miles distant, but from the extreme thickness of the weather, we could not ascertain what part. Captain Lydiard ordered the ship to be wore to the S.E. not thinking it safe to stand in any nearer under such circumstances of weather. Soon after ten o’clock the master wished them to run in again, and make the land, which was supposed to be the Lizard; and that if we could make it out, we should get into Falmouth; Captain Lydiard asked if he thought it could be done without risk? he (the master) said, he thought it could. “The ship was then wore, but the weather still continuing thick, we had a cast of the lead, and having 27 fathom, we were convinced we must be to the westward of the Lizard, and immediately wore ship again, and made all sail. “Soon after three o’clock, as the captain was going to dinner, he looked out of the quarter gallery, from whence he saw the breakers close to us, and the land along distance ahead. The ship wore instantly, and Captain Lydiard’s mind made up to come to an anchor, for had we kept under weigh the ship must have struck upon the rocks in a few hours. The top-gallant masts were got upon deck, and she rode very well until four o’clock on Tuesday morning, when the cable parted. The other anchor immediately let go, and the lower yards and top-masts struck. At day-light the other cable parted, and we were then so close to the land that we had no alternative but to go on shore, when Captain Lydiard desired the master to run the ship into the best situation for saving the lives of the people, and fortunately a fine beach presented, upon which the ship was run. Shortly after she struck the mainmast went, but hurt no one. “Captains Lydiard and Sullivan, with the first lieutenant, were resolved to remain with the ship as long as possible; many people were killed on board; the first lieutenant, and a number of others, washed overboard. It was the captain’s great wish to save the lives of the ship’s company, and he was employed in directing them the whole of the time. He had placed himself by the wheel, holding by the spokes, where he was exposed to the violence of the sea, which broke tremendously over him, and from continuing in this situation too long, waiting to see the people out of the ship, he became so weak that upon attempting to leave the ship himself, and being impeded by a boy who was in the way, and whom he endeavoured to assist, he was washed away and drowned.” Such is the steward’s account of this melancholy accident. Another correspondent furnishes us with the following particulars. “His Majesty’s Frigate Anson, of 40 guns, after completing her stores of all kinds, for a four-months cruise, sailed from Falmouth on the 24th of December, 1807, to resume her station off Brest. As it blew very hard from the S.W.S. we were never able to get so far to the westward; however, Captain Lydiard persevered in his endeavours until the 28th. “On the morning of that day we made the Isle of Bas, on the French coast, which they had seen the preceding evening. There being now every appearance of bad weather, Captain Lydiard determined to return to port, and accordingly shaped a course for the Lizard, the gale still increasing, and it coming on very heavy. About three o’clock P.M. the land was seen about five miles west of the Lizard, but at the time not exactly known, as many opinions were expressed, as to what land was then in sight; the ship was wore to stand of at sea, but had not long been on that tack before the land was again descried right a-head. “It was now quite certain that the ship was embayed, and every exertion was made to work her off the shore; but finding she lost ground every tack, she was brought to an anchor in 25 fathoms, at five P.M. with the best bower anchor veered away to two cable’s length. By their anchor, the ship rode in a most tremendous sea, and as heavy a gale as was ever experienced, until 4 A.M. of the 29th, when the cable parted. The small bower anchor was then let go, and veered away to two cable’s length, which held her until 8 A.M. when that also parted; and as the last resource, in order to preserve the lives of as many as possible, the foretop sail was cut, and the ship run on shore, on the sand which forms the bar between the Loe Pool (about three miles from Helston) and the sea. The tide had ebbed about an hour when she struck; on taking the ground, she broached to with her broadside to the beach, and most happily heeled into the shore; had she, on the contrary, heeled off, not a soul could have escaped alive. “Now commenced a most heart-rending scene to some hundreds of spectators who had been in anxious suspence, and who exerted themselves to the utmost, at the imminent risk of their lives, to save those of their drowning fellow-men. Many of those who were most forward in quitting the ship, lost their lives, being swept away by the tremendous sea, which entirely went over the wreck. The main-mast formed a floating raft from the ship to the shore, and the greater part of those who escaped passed by this medium.” Some of the officers who were fortunately saved have given us the following further particulars of this unfortunate event. “The Anson sailed from Falmouth on Christmas-eve, on her station off the Black-rocks, as one of the look-out frigates of the Channel fleet. In the violent storm of Monday, blowing about W. to S.W. she stood across the entrance of the channel, towards Scilly, made the Land’s End, which they mistook for the Lizard, and bore up, as they thought, for Falmouth. Still doubtful, however, in the evening of Monday, Captain Lydiard stood off again to the southward; when a consultation being held, it was once more resolved to bear up for Falmouth. Running eastward and northward, still under the fatal persuasion, that the Lizard was on the north-west of them, they did not discover their mistake till the man on the look-out a-head, called out “breakers!” The ship was instantaneously broached-to, and the best bower let go, which happily brought her up; but the rapidity with which the cable had veered out, made it impossible to serve it, and it soon parted in the hawse-hole. The sheet anchor was then let go, which also brought up the ship; but after riding end-on for a short time, this cable parted from the same cause, about eight in the morning, and the ship went plump on shore, upon the ridge of sand which separates the Loe Pool from the bay. Never did the sea run more tremendously high. It broke over the ship’s masts, which soon went by the board; the main-mast forming a floating raft from the ship to the shore; and the greater part of those who escaped, passed by this medium. One of the men saved, reports, that Captain Lydiard was near him on the main-mast; but he seemed to have lost the use of his faculties, with horror of the scene, and soon disappeared.” We have not language to convey an adequate picture of the terrific view which presented itself; but justice demands that we notice the conduct of a worthy member of a sect but too much vilified. At a time when no one appeared on the ship’s deck, and it was supposed that the work of death had ceased, a methodist preacher, venturing his life through the surf, got on board over the wreck of the main-mast, to see if any more remained; some honest hearts followed him. They found several persons still below, who could not get up; among whom were two women and two children. The worthy preacher and his party saved the two women an some of the men, but the children were lost. About two P.M. the ship went to pieces; when a few more men, who, for some crime, had been confined in irons below, emerged from the wreck. One of these was saved. By three o’clock, no appearance of the vessel remained. She was an old ship—(a 64, we believe, cut down)—which accounts for her beating to pieces so soon on a sandy bottom. The men who survived, were conveyed to Helston about two miles distant; where they were taken care of by the magistrates, and afterwards sent to Falmouth in charge of the Regulating Captain at that port. General report has stated the number drowned to be greater than it really is; but of the missing, we understand many are deserters, who scampered off as soon as they reached the shore. Among the officers saved, are the following:—Captain Sullivan, a passenger; Messrs. Hill and Brailey, midshipmen; Mr. Ross, assistant surgeon, and some others. We regret to say that about fifty of our countrymen are missing; amongst these unfortunate men is Captain Charles Lydiard; also, the first lieutenant, a very valuable officer; also the doctor, a very worthy man, and his son; besides some midshipman, and petty officers. The principal things saved from the wreck are a few casks, containing spirits, butter, &c. Captain Lydiard was nearly half-way to the beach, when a most dreadful sea overwhelmed him, so that he was seen no more! The body of Captain Lydiard was found, and interred with military honours. Several officers, both naval and military, attended the funeral, together with the mayor, &c. of Helston. The body was afterwards conveyed to his family vault in Haslimere, Surrey. This worthy and distinguished officer was married to an amiable woman, by whom he had five children. He was highly esteemed as a gentleman; and as an officer, he was of sterling merit. His conduct in attacking the Fourdroyant, (Admiral Williametz), under the Spanish batteries, near the Havannah;—in the capture of the Spanish frigate Pomona, under the batteries of Mure Castle; and at the capture of Curaçao, obtained him a name for skill and bravery, that will “live after him.” We are happy to hear that the inhabitants of Helston, and its neighbourhood, have, in this instance, as well as the late one of a transport, which was also wrecked, rescued their character from those odious epithets of savage and barbarian, which have heretofore been thrown upon them; for by their unexampled and hazardous activity, all the crew that remained on board, and escaped a watery grave by not being precipitate in getting on shore, were landed by eleven o’clock; and too much praise cannot be given, that Mr. Tobias Roberts, shopkeeper, of Helston, does not deserve, for the imminent and perilous danger he ran by remaining close to the Anson, (while the sea, in all its rage broke over her mast high), lifting the benumbed crew from impending ruin. On the 31st of December, Mr. Rogers, the Coroner, took an inquest on the bodies of Mr. Robert Smith, the Surgeon, and Mr. Richard Leach, one of the midshipmen, belonging to the Anson, in the church-yard, at Helston. Dead bodies were continually washing on ashore in great numbers along the coast, and most of them very much mangled and disfigured. During the interval of the Anson being on the beach, the situation of our brave seamen was perilous beyond description: the sea running mountains high, so that it was quite impossible for any boat to live on the water; and the only method which remained for the crew to land was, by ropes from the masts to the beach (as fortunately she was thrown with her masts towards the land), and through the assistance of which, by the aid and blessing of a merciful and kind providence, about two hundred and fifty were saved from destruction. We cannot help here recording, as an illustration of the naval character, a most heroic and benevolent act of one of these seamen in the hour of danger. This brave fellow was supporting himself in the water on a plank, expecting every moment a watery grave. At this critical time, he perceived one of his companions, who had been swimming for about an hour in the vain hope of reaching land, in such an exhausted state, that he could no longer persevere in his exertions. Our hero magnanimously threw him the plank, with which he had so long defended himself, desiring him to take that, the only assistance he could at present give him, while he would see how far he himself could swim. Having thus parted with his staff, he swam for about twenty minutes, and fortunately met with another piece of the wreck, by which he was enabled to prolong his worthy existence, till a boat came to his relief. We sincerely trust that the valour and commiseration of this noble tar may be properly rewarded, whose merit is certainly worthy of a more exalted station. Another anecdote of a more entertaining though, perhaps, less interesting nature, but equally authentic, has happily reached us in time for insertion. One of the poor fellows, who narrowly escaped drowning, took refuge in the first cottage he could find. In this cottage there happened to live an old lady and her niece, who received the distressed mariner in the most kind and compassionate manner. As, however, they were provided with no male apparel, and it was necessary that their guest should have some comfortable clothing, till his own was perfectly dry, the niece supplied him with a _change of her own_; and Jack having plenty of flannel petticoats on, soon recovered his strength and spirits. Though plenty did not adorn their board, yet a sufficiency was provided, and the hospitality with which it was given, rendered it more delicious; suffice it to say, that the sailor passed a very comfortable night here, and owing to a pressing invitation from the niece, who thought it would be dangerous for him to stir out too soon for fear of catching a cold that might be fatal, he also spent two or three comfortable days. It was not, however, the apprehensions of catching cold, a phrase unknown to mariners, that induced Jack to make a longer stay; the fact was, he became delighted with the conversation and manners of his younger hostess, and as every hour of his stay tended to augment that delight, he at last declared to the old woman his passion for the niece. This information was by no means disagreeable to the latter, and the end of the matter was, that our hero found a wife in Helston; he does not therefore repent his being shipwrecked, but humorously remarks, “It is an ill wind that blows nobody good.” The philanthropy of the inhabitants of Helston, in endeavouring to save their fellow creatures from perishing by shipwreck, reminds us of another similar instance of feeling and humanity, which was also united with courage; and which we think, may, with great propriety be introduced here, as a further stimulus to the people of sea coasts to use, at all times on these occasions, their utmost exertions in favor of distressed mariners. A ship having been wrecked at the cape of Good Hope, a guard was sent from Horse Island, consisting of thirty men and a lieutenant, to the place where the ship lay, in order to keep a strict look-out, and to prevent any of the cargo being stolen. A gibbet was erected, and at the same time an edict was issued, importing, that whoever should come near that spot should be hanged immediately, without trial, or sentence of judgment passed on him. From this cause the compassionate inhabitants, who had gone out on horseback to afford the wretched sufferers in the ship some assistance, were obliged to return back without being able to do them any service; but, on the contrary, were occular witnesses of the brutality and want of feeling shewn by some persons on this occasion, who did not bestow a thought of affording their fellow-creatures, that sat on the wreck perishing with cold, hunger, and thirst, and were almost in the arms of death, the least assistance or relief. An old man of the name of Woltemad, by birth an European, had a son in the citadel, who was a corporal, and among the first who had been ordered out, to Horse-Island, where the guard was to be set for the preservation of the shipwrecked goods. This worthy veteran borrowed a horse, and rode out in the morning, with a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread for his son’s breakfast. This happened so early that the gibbet had not been erected, nor the edict posted up, to point out to the traveller the nearest road to eternity. This hoary sire had no sooner delivered his son’s breakfast, than he heard the lamentations of the distressed crew from the wreck, when he resolved to ride his horse, which was a good swimmer, to the wreck, with a view to save some of them. He repeated this dangerous trip six times more, bringing each time two men alive on shore, and thus saved in all fourteen persons. The horse was by this time so much fatigued, that he did not think it prudent to venture out again; but the cries and entreaties of the poor wretches on the wreck increasing, he ventured once more, which proved so unfortunate, that he lost his own life, as on this occasion too many rushed upon him at once, some of them catching hold of the horse’s tail, and others of the bridle, by which means the horse, both wearied out and now too heavy laden, turned head over heels, and all were drowned together. When the storm and waves had subsided, the ship was found to lie at so small a distance from the land, that a person might have almost leaped from it on shore. The East India Directors in Holland, on receiving this intelligence, ordered one of their ships to be called after the name of Woltemad, and the story of his humanity to be painted on her stern; they further enjoined the regency at the Cape to provide for his descendants. Unfortunately in the southern hemisphere they had not the same sentiments of gratitude. The young corporal, Woltemad, who had been an unavailing witness of his father’s having sacrificed himself in the service of the company and of mankind, wished in vain to be gratified with his father’s place, humble as it was, (keeper of the beasts in the menagerie.) Stung with the disappointment, he had left that ungrateful country, and was gone to Batavia, where he died, before the news of so great and unexpected a recommendation could reach him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ LOSS OF THE SIDNEY, BOUND TO BENGAL, Which ran upon a dangerous rock, May 20, 1806. ------- IN the “Asiatic Mirror,” (an Indian newspaper,) the commander of the Sidney gives an account of her loss, and the subsequent preservation of the greater part of the crew, in a letter, which for the satisfaction of our readers, is here copied verbatim. SIR, Calcutta, October 14, 1806. “The Sidney left Port Jackson on the 12th of April, 1806, bound to Bengal. Intending to proceed through Dampier’s Straits, her course was directed as nearly as possible in the track of Captain Hogan, of the Cornwallis, which, as laid down in the charts, appears a clear safe passage. On the 20th of may, at one A.M. in lat. 3° 20′ south, long. 146° 50′ east, we ran upon a most dangerous rock or shoal; and as this reef is not noticed in any map or chart, it appears that we were its unfortunate discoverer. “On Sunday, over the taffrail, we found 25 fathoms water; over the larboard gangway six fathoms; on the starboard side only nine feet; and over the bows twelve feet. One of the boats was immediately got out, with a bower anchor; but on sounding ten fathoms distance from the ship, found no ground at sixty fathoms. “It must have been high water when we struck; for at that time there was no appearance of any reef or breaker; but as the water subsided, the shoal began to shew itself with a number of small black rocks. The ship had been striking very hard, and began to sue forward. At three A.M. there were six feet water in the hold, and increasing rapidly; at five o’clock the ship was setting aft, and her top sides parting from the floor-heads. “Upon consultation with my officers, it was the unanimous opinion, that the ship was irrecoverably gone, and that no exertions could avail for her safety. We therefore employed all hands in getting the boats ready to receive the crew, 108 in number. Eight bags of rice, six casks of water, and a small quantity of salted beef and pork, were put in the long-boat, as provisions for the whole. We were prevented taking a large stock, as, from the number of people, the three boats were barely sufficient to receive the whole with safety. “We remained with the Sidney till five P.M. on the 21st of May, when there were three feet water on the orlop deck; we now thought it full time to leave the ship to her fate, and to seek our safety in the boats. Accordingly I embarked in the long-boat, with Mr. Trounce, second officer, and 74 Lascars; Mr. Robson, first officer, and Stalkart, third, with 16 Lascars, were in the cutter; and the jolly boat was allotted to 15 Dutch Malays and one Sepoy. “Being desirous to ascertain the position of the reef, by making the Admiralty islands, shaped our course accordingly, steering N. by E. half E. During the night it blew fresh, and the long-boat making much water, we were obliged to lighten her, by throwing overboard a great deal of lumber, and two casks of water. The three boats kept close in company, the long-boat having the jolly boat in tow. Finding at day-light that the cutter sailed considerably better, I directed Mr. Robson to take the jolly boat in tow. The wind increased as the morning advanced, and a heavy swell rising, at 10 A.M. the jolly boat sunk, while in tow by the cutter, and all on board, to the number of 16, unfortunately perished. It was lamentable to witness the fate of these unhappy men, and the more so, as it was not in our power to render them the smallest assistance. “At noon on the 22d we saw the Admiralty islands, bearing N.N.E. distant three or four leagues, and as we had run about 58 miles in the boats, upon a N. by E. half E. course, the situation of the shoal, on which the Sidney struck, was accurately ascertained, and will be found as above laid down. “From the Admiralty islands we continued standing to the westward; and on the 25th made a small island: we stood towards it, and from its appearance I was induced to land, in the hope of obtaining a supply of water. Mr. Robson, myself, and 20 of the best of our hands, armed with heavy clubs, brought from New Caledonia, our fire arms being rendered useless from exposure to heavy rains, approached in the cutter, and landed through a heavy surf, to the utmost astonishment of the inhabitants, who, as far as we could judge from appearance, had certainly never before seen people of our complexion. The men were tall and well made, wearing their hair plaited and raised above the head—they had no appearance of Malays, nor of caffrees; and, excepting their colour, which was of a light copper, they had the form and features of the natives of Europe; they were entirely naked. We saw a number of women, who were well formed, with mild pleasing features. “We were received on the beach by about 20 or 30 of the natives, who immediately supplied each of us with a cocoa nut. We then succeeded in making them understand that we wanted water, upon which they made signs for us to accompany them towards the interior of the island:—we did so; but after walking above a mile, they conducted us into a thick jungle, and as their number was quickly increasing, I judged it imprudent to proceed further, and returned to the beach, where I was alarmed to find the natives had assembled to the number of 150 or upwards, armed with spears, eight or ten feet long. One of them, an old man, of venerable appearance, and who seemed to be their Chief, approached, and threw his spear at my feet, expressive, as I understood it, that we should part with our clubs in like manner. Perceiving at this time a crowd of women to have got hold of the sternfast of the cutter, and endeavouring to haul her on shore, from the grapnell with which we had come to, we hastily endeavoured to gain the boat; the natives followed us closely, some of them pointed their spears at us, as we retreated to the boat, and some were thrown, though happily without effect; and to us they appeared to be very inexpert in the management of their weapons. On my getting into the water, three or four of the natives followed me, threatening to throw their spears, and when I was in reach of the boat, one of them made a thrust, which was prevented taking effect by the interference of Mr. Robson, who warded off the weapon. When we had got into the boat, and were putting off, they threw at least 200 spears, none of which took effect, excepting one, which gave a severe wound to my cook, entering immediately above the jaw, and passing through the mouth. “Having thus escaped from this perilous adventure, we pursued our course, and got as far as Dampier’s Straits, as favourably as our situation could well admit. Being now within reach of land, the Lascars became impatient to be put on shore. It was in vain that I endeavoured to persuade them to persevere; they would not listen to argument, and expressed their wish, rather to meet with immediate death on shore, than to be starved to death in the boats. Yielding to their opportunity, I at length determined to land them on the N.W. extremity of the island of Ceram, from whence they might travel to Amboyna in two or three days. On the 9th of June, being off that part of the island, Mr. Robson volunteered to land a part of the people in the cutter, to return to the long-boat, and the cutter to be then given to such farther part of the crew as chose to join the party first landed. Mr. Robson accordingly went on shore with the cutter; but to my great mortification, after waiting two days, there was no appearance of his return or the cutter. “We concluded that the people had been detained either by the Dutch or the natives; yet as the remaining part of the Lascars were desirous to be landed, we stood in with the long-boat, and put them on shore near the point where we supposed the cutter to have landed her people. “Our number in the long-boat was now reduced to seventeen, viz. myself, Mr. Trounce, Mr. Stalkart, fourteen Lascars, and others. Our stock of provisions consisted of two bags of rice, and one gang cask of water; with this stock we conceived we might hold out till we reached Bencoolen, for which port we determined to make the best of our way.—We fixed the allowance of provisions to each man at one tea-cup full of rice and a pint of water _per diem_; but we soon found it necessary to make a considerable reduction in this allowance. “We proceeded on through the Straits of Bantam, meeting in our course several Malay prows, none of which took notice of us, excepting one, which gave chase for a day, and would have come up with us, had we not got off under cover of a very dark night. Continuing our course, we passed through the Straits of Sapay, where we caught a large shark. Our spirits were much elated by this valuable prize, which we lost no time in getting on board, and, having kindled a fire in the bottom of the boat, he was roasted with all expedition; and such was the keenness and extent of our appetite, that although the shark must have weighed 150 or 160 lbs. not a vestige of it remained at the close of the day. We suffered most severely from our indulgence; on the following day we were all afflicted with the most violent complaint of the stomach and bowels, which reduced us exceedingly, and left us spiritless and languid, insomuch that we now seriously despaired of our safety. “On the 2d of July, I lost an old and faithful servant, who died from want of sustenance. On the 4th we made Java Head; and at the same time caught two large boobies, which afforded all hands a most precious and refreshing meal. On the 9th, at midnight, came-to off Pulo Penang, on the west coast of Sumatra. At day-light we endeavoured to weigh our anchor, and to run close in shore; but we were so much exhausted that our united strength was insufficient to get up the anchor. We made a signal of distress, on which a sandpan, with two Malays, came off. As I was the only person in the long-boat who had sufficient strength to move, I went on shore with the Malays. On landing, I found myself so weak, that I fell upon the ground, and was obliged to be carried to an adjoining house. Such refreshments as the place afforded were immediately sent off to the long-boat; and we recruited so quickly, that in two days we found ourselves in a condition to proceed on our voyage. On the 12th of July we weighed, and on the 19th anchored off Rat island, at Bencoolen. “Here I met with an old friend, Captain Chauvet, of the Perseverance, and whose kindness and humanity I shall ever remember, and gratefully acknowledge. On the day following my arrival, I waited on the resident, Mr. Parr, from whom I received every kindness and attention. “I left Bencoolen on the 17th of August, in the Perseverance, for Penang, where I arrived on the 27th, and where I was most agreeably surprised to meet with my late chief mate, Mr. Robson, who, with the Lascars, landed on Ceram, and had safely reached Amboyna, where they were received by Mr. Cranstoun, the Dutch governor, with a humanity and benevolence that reflect honour on his character. The governor supplied them with whatever their wants required; he accommodated Mr. Robson at his own table, and on his leaving Amboyna, furnished him with money for himself and his people, refusing to take any acknowledgement or receipt for the amount. He also gave Mr. Robson letters to the governor-general of Batavia, recommending him to his kind offices. Such honourable conduct from the governor of a foreign country, and with which we were at war, cannot be too widely promulgated. “From Amboyna, Mr. Robson embarked in the Dutch frigate Pallas, for Batavia, and on their passage thither, fell in with and was captured by his Majesty’s ships Greyhound and Harrier, and brought to Prince of Wales’s Island. “From Penang I went to Bengal, with the Varuna, Captain Dennison, and arrived safely in Calcutta a few days ago.” All the other accounts which we have seen, relative to the calamitous loss of this vessel, are mere repetitions of the captain’s letter. In one, however, it is stated, that the resistance which they met with from the natives, originated entirely with the women; who, notwithstanding their seeming mildness, were the first transgressors. They intended to make themselves mistresses of the cutter; and by their wanton proceedings, the men were stimulated to hostilities. These people, like all those whom nature has left in a wild state, evidently delighted in plunder. When Mr. Robson landed on Ceram, it was his intention to return to the long-boat, with all possible speed, but he was detained on shore by the Lascars, who insisted on his accompanying them to Amboyna. The remaining part of the Lascars, who were afterwards landed, overtook the first party; and from these Mr. Robson learned that the long-boat had declined waiting for him any longer, and was now proceeding on through the straits of Bantam. Indeed this gentleman did not suppose that Capt. Forrest would wait for him so long as he did, or he would certainly have watched an opportunity of escaping from the Lascars, and returning to him. He now made up his mind of prosecuting his journey to Amboyna, where he met with the kind reception that has been already stated, and which far exceeded his expectations. Except the crew of the jolly boat, who were all lost, the rest were happily, and indeed we may add, most wonderfully preserved. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ DREADFUL FAMINES AT SEA, AND THEIR Melancholy Consequences. ------- Letters received from St. Helena, in 1802, give a most singular and affecting narrative respecting six deserters from the artillery of the island. Their extraordinary adventures produced a course of inquiry on the 12th of December last, when John Brown, one of the survivors, delivered the following account upon oath, before Captain Desfontaine, president, Lieutenant B. Hodson, and Ensign Young. “In June, 1799, I belonged to the first company of artillery, in the service of this garrison, and on the 10th of that month, about half an hour before parade time, M’Kinnon, gunner, and orderly of the 2d company, asked me if I was willing to go with him on board an American ship, called the Columbia, Captain Henry Lelar, the only ship then in the Roads. After some conversation, I agreed, and met him about seven o’clock at the play-house, where I found one M’Quinn, of Major Searle’s Company, another man called Brighouse, another called Parr, and the sixth, Matthew Conway. “Parr was a good seaman, and said he would take us to the island of Ascension, or lay off the harbour till the Columbia could weigh anchor and come out. We went down about eight o’clock to the West Rocks, where the American boat was waiting for us, manned with three American seamen, which took us alongside the Columbia. We went on board. Parr went down into the cabin; and we changed our clothes after having been on board half an hour. “Brighouse and Conway proposed to cut out a whale-boat from out of the harbour, to prevent the Columbia from being suspected; which they effected, having therein a coil of rope and five oars, with a large stone she was moored by. This happened about eleven o’clock at night. “We observed lanterns passing on the line towards the Sea-gate, and hearing a great noise, thought we were missed, and searched for. We immediately embarked in the whale-boat, with twenty-five pounds of bread in a bag, and a small keg of water, supposed to contain about thirteen gallons, one compass, and one quadrant, given to us by the commanding officer of the Columbia; but in our great hurry the quadrant was either left behind or dropped over-board. “We then left the ship, pulling with two oars only, to get a-head of her. The boat was half full of water, and nothing to bale her out. In this condition we rowed out to sea, and lay off the island a great distance, expecting the American ship hourly. “About twelve o’clock the second day, no ship appearing, by Parr’s advice, we bore away, steering N. by W. and then N.N.W. for the island of Ascension, using our handkerchie as substitutes for sails. We met with a gale of wind, which continued two days. The weather then became very fine, and we supposed we had run ten miles an hour. M’Kinnon kept a reckoning, with pen, ink, and paper, supplied by the Columbia, as also charts and maps. “We continued our course till about the 18th in the morning, when we saw a number of birds, but no land. About twelve that day Parr said he was sure we must be past the island, accounting it to be eight hundred miles from St. Helena. We then each of us took our shirt, and with them made a small sprit-sail, and laced our jackets and trowsers together at the waistband, to keep us warm; and then altered our course to W. by N. thinking to make Rio de Janeiro, on the American coast. Provisions running very short, we allowanced ourselves only one ounce of bread for twenty-four hours, and two mouthfuls of water. “We continued until the 20th, when all our provisions were expended. On the 27th, M’Quinn took a piece of bamboo in his mouth to chew, and we all followed his example. On that night, it being my turn to steer the boat, and remembering to have read of persons eating their shoes, I cut a piece off one of mine; but it being soaked with salt water, I was obliged to spit it out, and take the inside sole, which I ate part of, and distributed to the rest, but found no benefit from it. “On the 1st of July, Parr caught a dolphin with a graff, that had been left in the boat. We all fell on our knees, and thanked God for his goodness to us. We tore up the fish, and hung it to dry: about four we ate part of it, which agreed with us pretty well. On this fish we subsisted till the 4th, about eleven o’clock, when, finding the whole expended, bones and all, Parr, myself, Brighouse, and Conway, proposed to scuttle the boat, and let her go down, to put us out of our misery. The other two objected, observing, that God who had made man, always found him something to eat. “On the 5th, about eleven, M’Kinnon proposed, that it would be better to cast lots for one of us to die, in order to save the rest; to which we consented. William Parr, being sick two days before with the spotted fever, was excluded. He wrote the numbers out, and put them in a hat, which we drew out blindfolded, and put them in our pockets. Parr then asked whose lot it was to die—none of us knowing what numbers we had in our pockets—each one praying to God that it might be his lot. It was agreed that No. 5 should die, and the lots being unfolded, M’Kinnon’s was No. 5. “We had agreed, that he whose lot it was should bleed himself to death; for which purpose we had provided ourselves with nails sharpened, which we got from the boat. M’Kinnon with one of them cut himself in three places, in his hand, foot, and wrist, and praying God to forgive him, died in about a quarter of an hour. “Before he was quite cold, Brighouse, with one of those nails, cut a piece of flesh off his thigh, and hung it up, leaving the body in the boat. About three hours after we ate of it—only a very small bit. This piece lasted us until the 7th. We dipped the body every two hours into the sea, to preserve it. Parr having found a piece of slate in the bottom of the boat, he sharpened it on the other large stone, and with it cut another piece of the thigh, which lasted us until the 8th; when, it being my watch, and observing the water about break of day to change colour, I called the rest, thinking we were near shore; but saw no land, it not being quite day-light. “As soon as day appeared, we discovered land right a-head, and steered towards it. About eight in the morning we were close to the shore. There being a very heavy surf, we endeavoured to turn the boat’s head to it: but being very weak, we were unable. Soon after the boat upset! Myself, Conway, and Parr, got on shore, M’Quinn and Brighouse were drowned. “We discovered a small hut on the beach, in which were an Indian and his mother, who spoke Portuguese; and I understanding that language, learnt that there was a village about three miles distant, called Belmont. This Indian went to the village, and gave information that the French had landed, and in about two hours the governor of the village, (a clergyman), with several armed men, took Conway and Parr prisoners, tying them by their hands and feet, and slinging them on a bamboo stick; and in this manner took them to the village. I being very weak, remained in the hut some time, but was afterwards taken. “On our telling them we were English, we were immediately released, and three hammocks provided. We were taken in them to the governor’s house, who let us lie on his own bed, and gave us milk and rice; but not having eaten any thing for a considerable time, we were lock-jawed, and continued so till the 23d, during which time the governor wrote to the governor of St. Salvador, who sent a small schooner to a place called Porto Seguro, to take us to St. Salvador. We were then conducted to Porto Seguro on horseback, passing through Santa Croix, where we remained about ten days. Afterwards we embarked; and, on our arrival at St. Salvador, Parr, on being questioned by the governor, answered, “that our ship had foundered at sea, and we had saved ourselves in the boat; that the ship’s name was the Sally, of Liverpool, and belonged to his father, and was last from Cape Coast Castle, on the coast of Africa, to touch at the Ascension for turtle, and then bound for Jamaica.” Parr said he was the captain. “We continued at St. Salvador about 13 days, during which time the inhabitants made up a subscription of 200£. each man. We then embarked in the Maria, a Portuguese ship, for Lisbon; Parr as mate, Conway boatswain’s-mate, myself being sickly as passenger. In thirteen days we arrived at Rio de Janeiro. Parr and Conway sailed for Lisbon, and I was left in the hospital. In about three months Captain Elphinstone, of the Diomede, pressed me into his majesty’s service, giving me the choice of remaining on that station or to proceed to the admiral at the Cape. I chose the latter, and was put, with seven suspected deserters, on board the Ann, a Botany Bay ship, in irons, with the convicts. When I arrived at the Cape I was put on board the Lancaster, of 64 guns. I never entered. I at length received my discharge; since which I engaged in the Duke of Clarence as a seaman. I was determined to give myself up the first opportunity, in order to relate my sufferings to the men at this garrison, to deter them from attempting so mad a scheme again.” “In attending to the above narrative, as simple as it is affecting, we cannot help noticing the justice of Providence, so strikingly exemplified in the melancholy fate of M’Kinnon, the deluder of these unhappy men, and the victim of his own illegal and disgraceful scheme. May his fate prove a memento to soldiers and sailors, and a useful though awful lesson to the encouragers and abettors of desertion.” * * * * * The following is an account of another famine, given by Captain Bradshaw, commander of the Andalusia, in a letter, dated Halifax, April 30, 1759. On the 27th day of February, about two o’clock in the afternoon, we saw a vessel without masts, about three miles to leeward of us; and immediately bore down to see what she was: I found it to be the Dolphin sloop, Captain Baron, from the Canaries, bound to New York; they had been from the Canaries ever since September 11th, 165 days; 115 of which they had nothing to eat. I sent my boat on board to see what condition they were in; my people called to me and told me they were helpless and starving, and desired to know whether I would take them on board.—I ordered my people to put them in the boat, and bring them on board, which accordingly they did. When they came alongside our ship we were obliged to haul them in with ropes, they were so very weak: there were the captain and seven others; but such poor miserable creatures sure never were seen: had it been a week longer they must all have died. When I came to examine the captain and the people, they told me, that they had not any provisions for upwards of three months before they saw me; they had eaten their dog, their cats, and all their shoes, and in short, every thing that was eatable on board. On the 10th of January they all agreed to cast lots for their lives, which accordingly they did; the shortest lot was to die; the next shortest to be the executioner. The lot fell upon Anthony Gallitia, a Spanish Gentleman, a passenger; they shot him through the head, which they cut off and threw overboard; they then took out his bowels and ate them, and afterwards ate all the remaining part of the body, which lasted but a very short time. The captain told me, they were about to cast lots a second time, but it happened very luckily that he bethought himself of a pair of breeches, which he had lined with leather; he soon found them, took out the lining, and cut off for each man’s share a piece of about an inch and a half square, for the day’s allowance; that, with the grass that grew upon deck, was all the support they had for about twenty days before I met with them: the grass was in some places four or five inches high. The captain brought on board the remaining part of the leather lining, which I have got, and a piece of the same that was the allowance of one man for the day. No words in my power to express, are sufficient to describe the truly deplorable and wretched condition these poor unfortunate sufferers were in when I met with them. * * * * * During Lord Anson’s voyage round the world, the Spaniards fitted out a squadron of ships (to traverse the views and enterprizes of the English vessels), one of which, the Admiral’s ship, named the Asia, of 66 guns, when off Cape Horn, was reduced to such infinite distress, that after every kind of sustenance failed, the sailors gave four dollars a piece for every rat that could be caught; and some little time previous to this, a sailor who died on board, had his death concealed by his brother, who, during that time, lay in the same hammock with the corpse, only to receive the dead man’s allowance of provisions. In this shocking situation, they were alarmed (if their horrors were capable of augmentation) by the discovery of a conspiracy among the marines, which was to massacre the officers and the crew of the ship, that they might satisfy their hunger by eating their bodies. But their designs were discovered, when just upon the point of execution, by means of one of the conspirators, and three of the ringleaders were put to death. At length, though the conspiracy was suppressed, yet by the complicated misfortunes of sickness, fatigue, and hunger, which could not be alleviated until too late, the greatest part of the ship’s company died a lingering and painful death; so that when the ship arrived at the River de la Plate, out of nearly seven hundred men, only about fifty were remaining alive, and scarcely able to crawl for want of nourishment. * * * * * “We have also the following account of forty-two persons who perished by famine and shipwreck, near Spitzbergen, in the year 1746.” John Cornelius, of Muniken, being ordered to Spitzbergen, to catch whales, he set sail in a galliot, on the 6th of May, 1746, and arrived on the 3d of June following near Spitzbergen, with an intention to anchor in the bay, but was by the vast floods of ice-shoals forced to keep out at sea. After having in vain cruised up and down among the ice-shoals, they got into the bay, but perceiving two whales farther at sea, they sent out their sloop in pursuit of them. Whilst they were rowing up and down, to watch the motions of these creatures, they discovered at a distance a great ice-shoal, with something white upon it, which at first sight they imagined to be bears (they being generally white there;) but one Ellert Johnson, who was in the sloop to manage the harpoon, judging by the motion that it was something else, persuaded them to row that way, which being done accordingly, they not long afterwards perceived the same to be a piece of a rope belonging to the sails of a ship, which was held up by a man as a signal of the utmost distress; so they rowed up to it with all the oars they had, and coming near, found, to their great surprise, four living men, and one dead one, all Englishmen, upon the ice-shoal, who, upon their bended knees, expressed their joy and thankfulness for so unexpected a deliverance from the jaws of death. They were taken into the sloop, and carried to the bay aboard the ship. These unfortunate men had cut a large hole, in the nature of a subterraneous cave, into the ice, and round the entrance thereof had placed the pieces of ice that were cut out of the concavity, to defend themselves against the violence of the winds and waves. In this hole they had spent fourteen days, it being so long since they had lost their ship. At first there were in all forty-two of them, and they had saved some victuals and tools, with their sloop. The commander, however, perceiving, after a little while, that it was impossible for them to hold out long on the ice-shoal, resolved to go ashore in the sloop, with seventeen of his men, and afterwards to send word back how matters stood there. This was done accordingly, but it blowing very hard, and they not having heard the least tidings of them since, they were afraid that they were drowned before they reached the shore. There were twenty-four left upon the ice-shoal, but the want of provisions increasing daily amongst them, and they being reduced to a starving condition, and expecting nothing but present death, resolved to divide themselves, and to get upon several other ice-shoals, in hopes, by some chance or other, to come near the shore; but whether some of them got ashore, or were taken up by some ships, or swallowed up by the waves, they were not able to tell. Certain it is, that four of them, the miserable remnants of forty-two, were found sitting together upon this ice-shoal, overwhelmed with affliction, without any hopes of being saved from the last extremity, which they were reduced to by frost and hunger, before the Dutch ship came in sight of them, having had nothing to feed upon for some time but a leathern belt, which they had divided and eaten, share and share alike, till it was all consumed. After they were brought to the Dutch ship, the surgeon took all imaginable care for their recovery, notwithstanding which, three of them died in a few days after; so that of forty-two, wherewith this ship was manned, no more than one escaped with life, who arriving in September, 1746, in the galliot, the Delft, upon the Meuse; from thence he returned to England, his native country. ------------------------------------ Plummer, Printer, Seething-lane. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected. ○ Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). *** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Loss of His Majesty's Frigate Anson - Which was Wrecked within Three Miles of Helston, December 28, 1807" *** Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. 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