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.