Actions, Damage & Losses

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=185 BGCOLOR="#003333" TEXT="#F7F7FF" background="040b9c00dduajq.jpg"> <div> <B> <TABLE BORDER="0" CELLPADDING="2" CELLSPACING="0" WIDTH="70" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 76 WIDTH="66"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="76" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="66" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></tD> </tR> </TABLE></B></div> <div> <B>  </B></div> <div> <B><IMG SRC="17bb0760.jpg" border=0 width="176" height="118" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id24_m.htm#lady_hobart__account_of_her_loss_" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U><B>Loss of </B></U></A><A HREF="id24_m.htm#lady_hobart__account_of_her_loss_" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U><I><B>Lady Hobart</B></I></U></A></div> <div> (Courtesy RCPS)</div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id24_m.htm#briseis___news_of_loss" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U>Loss of HMPB</U></A><A HREF="id24_m.htm#briseis___news_of_loss" TARGET="TRLX_Middle" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U><I> Briseis</I></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#FFFBF0" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><B>Falmouth Packet Archives 1688-1850</B></FONT>    |     <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Falmouth Packet Archives 16881850"><U>home</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Project Mission "><U>Project Mission </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id64.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Main Index"><U>Main Index</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Chronology (Timeline)"><U>Chronology  (Timeline)</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id164.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="AZ of Postal Packets"><U>AZ of Postal Packets</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id67.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Penryns Timeline "><U>Penryn's Timeline </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id152.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Flushing "><U>Flushing </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id88.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wars Battles"><U>Wars & Battles</U></A>   |   <B>Actions, Damage & Losses</B></div> <div> Actions, Damage & Losses</div> <bR> <div> <B>A list of postal packets </B><B><U>attacked</U></B><B> and/or </B><B><U>taken</U></B><B> and of packets </B><B><U>lost </U></B><B>at sea</B></div> <div> <B>Links</B> <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >(</FONT><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" >blue</FONT><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >) </FONT><B>are to appropriate anchors where you can open html links to textual details of the named vessel</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >.</FONT><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > (Adobe Acrobat .pdf Reader required)</FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1705:     Taken   <I>Godolphin</I>, Charles Gibson. Captured July 1705 by privateers on her first voyage (to Lisbon). Taken into St. Malo</div> <bR> <div> 1707     Taken  <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id38_prince_george__1703_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Edmund Dummers Packet Service"><U><I>Prince George</I></U></A></FONT> (Ransomed for £400, but taken out of packet service, considered, by the Post Office, to be too small)</div> <bR> <div> 1744:     Taken <I>Eagle</I></div> <bR> <div> 1746:      Lost  <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_king_george__1716_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>King George </I></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1758:       Taken <I>General Wall </I>(Ransomed)</div> <bR> <div> 1760:      Taken <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I> General Wall</I></FONT>  (Ransomed for £2,500) <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1761      Taken <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I> General Wall</I></FONT>  (Ransomed for £600) </div> <bR> <div> 1762:      Taken <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I> General Wall</I></FONT>  (Ransomed for 500 Guineas) </div> <bR> <div> 1777:      Taken  <I>Swallow II, </I>Newman</div> <bR> <div> 1781:      Action <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_king_george__1716_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>King George</I></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1782:     Taken  <I> Antelope Attacked & captured 10 October 1782,  </I></div> <div> <I>     "Antelope (was) carried into Nantes and is since purchased by Capt. Kempthorne who is now gone to bring her home"</I></div> <div> <I>     </I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><I>7/5/1783: (Post I, 11, p. 248.).</I></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1788:<I>     Taken</I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>  New Eagle</I></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1793:     Action<I><B> </B></I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>  </I></FONT><I>Ante</I><I> <A NAME="antelope___action_of_1793"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></I></div> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT><I>"</I>In 1793 the <I>Antelope</I> sailed without her Commanding Officer, Captain Kempthorne. On her return, four days out from Falmouth,      [ERROR? 'twas off Cumberland Harbour, Jamaica 1 Dec 1793 - (<FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >Norway p.45</FONT>)] two French privateers were sighted.  Obeying orders,<I>      Antelope</I> headed back to port to avoid trouble,[ERROR?  "Curtis put the ship to her best point of sailing"] but the next day the wind      failed, and one of the privateers, the <I>Atlanta</I>, was able to come alongside. The crew of this ship were known [evidence/assumption?]      to be a cruel and bloodthirsty lot, who would have no mercy on the lightly armed packet."</div> <bR> <div>      "During the battle, all the officers [Only Curtis & his Steward] were killed or wounded, the command fell on the Boatswain, John      Pascoe, rough and illiterate though he was, assumed command without hesitation leading his men to repel the boarding parties.      Privateers were thrown back time & again, and eventually cut the grapplings, but Pascoe raced up the rigging, lashing the squaresail      ard of the <I>Atlanta</I> to the <I>Antelope</I>'s foreshrouds, continuing the battle until the <I>Atlanta</I> surrendered.  There were 32 dead on the           privateer, though <I>Antelope</I> suffered the loss of only two men."</div> <bR> <div>      "The victorious Packet returned to port (in JAMAICA) with it's prize, the crew feted and given handsome cash awards.  John Pascoe      was later captured by the French and imprisoned for 14 years.  On his release he was offered a commission, but this he refused." </div> <div>      [qf. "The Story of Flushing" (Lady) Ursula Redwood (1967)]</div> <div>      [Please, CHECK these conflicting accounts for factual errors! (start with LL / SM / Gaz news reports)]<FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1794:     Taken  <I>Antelope</I> 204 tons, 30 men; sailed 19/8/1794 for N. America - taken 19/9/1794 on her outward passage by a squadron      of      French Frigates.  Valued 4/4/1793 @ £2750.16.8d.  Ordnance stores £34 [qf. TLB/8/P/157]</div> <div> <I>     "Capt. Kempthorne fell ill of yellow fever ("putrid"), died in the hands of the French. (as a prisoner).  </I></div> <div> <I><B>     Kempthorne's son joined the Navy, under Edward Pellew..with spirit & gallantry and became a well known Post-Captain</B></I></div> <div>      [qf. <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >Phil A/4/2 RIC, Truro]</FONT></div> <bR> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I>(Gay/Norway) <I>" In fog, ran into midst of French Frigates, sank mails, surrendered.  Capt. Kempthorne fell ill of fever and died soon      after". ("No descendants")</I> </FONT>[ERROR? .. his son, who married.. see FP 16/9/1837: Married at Alphington, Samuel Saville Shepherd of      Exeter to Elizabeth Buckingham, relict of the Late James Miller, and Daughter of late Captain W. Kempthorne of <U>HMS</U> <I>Antelope </I>]</div> <bR> <div> <I>     </I>(Mudd,<FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > P 49</FONT>) "in 1793,<I> Antelope, sailing home from Jamaica under temporary command of Mr Edward Curtis. He [</I>Curtis]<I>  & </I>[John]<I>      Pascoe, boatswain, were killed </I></div> <div> <I>     </I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Arial" >[ERROR - Curtis and his Steward were killed in the action resisting attack by French ATALANTA, in 1793]. </FONT></div> <div> <I>     "Antelope, later, under Capt. William Kempthorne on 19/9/1794, destined for Halifax, found herself in fog with a French Squadron      & surrendered."</I></div> <div> <I>     </I>[Mudd appears to confuse 1793 & 1794 attacks. Pascoe's death seems premature in the light of <I>West Briton & Cornwall Advertiser</I>      report of 30/1/1846. (follows)]</div> <bR> <div> <I>     </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>     WB & Cornwall Advertiser </I>30/1/1846<I>  " </I>Died 19/1/1846, Mylor, <B>John Pascoe</B> (Aged 85).  Last survivor of gallant crew of           <I>Antelope</I> Packet, of which he was the Boatswain, when in 1793 they were attacked by the French Schooner privateer                <I>Atlanta</I>.  All the superior officers being killed, he took command & personally lashed the schooner's yard arm to the rigging of the      Packet, and during which he had 3 shots through his hat, but without injury to himself"</div> <bR> <div> 1794<FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT><I>Taken & burnt at sea</I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I> Tankerville</I></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1796:      Taken  <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_active.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Active</I></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1798:<I>     </I>Action <I> </I><I><B>Princess Royal,</B></I><I> </I>Skinner, sailed 12/6/1798 for N. America, arrived back via Limerick 31/10/1798, in action 22nd June.( S.M.)</div> <div>      Capt. Skinner had been attacked by a French privateer of 169 tons and 85 men, in a severe action for 2 hours.  Captain Skinner was      wounded slightly and two crew badly - letter from Brig. Gen. Murray of Halifax N.S.</div> <div>      Captain Skinner awarded 50 Guineas, two wounded 10 Gns. and 30 Gns. for the rest of her crew. [Treasury Letter Book 10,  p.4]</div> <div>      </div> <div>      [ID 2968 - sailed 12 June 1798, returned 31 Oct, from Halifax] </div> <div>      On June 22nd 1798, Princess Royal, <B>Capt. John Skinner</B>, an officer of long experience and proved courage, was in Mid-Atlantic      bound for Halifax in, unfortunately,  very light winds and calm sea.  At daybreak a brig was seen in chase of the Packet, and, by      using sweeps, gained ground all day and they exchanged a few broadsides at 7 p.m.  At 3 a.m. the following morning she swept up      and Captain Skinner fired his two 6-pounder stern-chasers, one of which was rendered useless after the first discharge by the           snapping of its axle tree. Later, Capt,. Skinner reports, two 4-pounders of his remaining five guns, were similarly damaged.  The      cannonade lasted 2 hours and the French deprived the opportunity of boarding.  The passengers, under the direction of General      Murray, had formed themselves into a body of riflemen and were keeping up a galling fire on their enemies with excellent effect, for at      5.30 p.m. the Privateer sheered off.  In this action two men were badly wounded, and Captain Skinner was hurt less seriously by the      explosion of a powder-horn.</div> <bR> <div>      It happened that on board the Privateer there were thirty English and American prisoners; and from these men it was afterwards      ascertained that the <I>Princess Royal</I> had engaged the <I><B>Adventurier</B></I> of Bordeaux, a Privateer carrying fourteen long 4-               pounders and 12-pound cannonades, with 85 men.  Two of her crew were killed, and 4 wounded, but the vessel was very much           damaged and had to return to Bordeaux to refit. [qf. Norway<FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > (p.79-82)</FONT>: ]</div> <bR> <bR> <div>      <B>Captain John Skinner was born at Perth Amboy, New Jersey</B>.  He took the Loyalist side in the American Revolution (1775-     1782), entered the navy in 1776, and lost an eye and an arm in the service.  He became commander of <I>Princess Royal </I>[Falmouth      Packet] in <B>1794</B>.     The action with the French brig<I><B> L'Adventure </B></I>in 1798 so impressed Brigadier-General Murray in Halifax that he      wrote the PMG.  Fifteen passengers assisted, including a Major Murray [related to Brig.-Gen Murray?], a Captain Hobbinson of the      Royal Fusiliers, and <B>Mr Sheldon of Lloyds Coffee House</B>. (and by the Captain's sister and her maid, who set to work making new      4-lb cartridges in the bread room].     Three years later, <B>Captain Skinner transferred to the Holyhead packet station,</B> a deserved      award for years of service on the open ocean.  He had charge of the packet-boats out of Holyhead for the next 33 years - until he was      swept overboard in a storm as his packet was leaving Ireland for Holyhead. [qf. Robinson: <FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >(p.72 - 73)</FONT>]</div> <div>  </div> <div>      The action of 1796 received some publicity from an account in "<I>The Times</I>"; it was drawn up by <B>Mr Sheldon</B> of Lloyds Coffee House,      who, it transpired, was <B>for the most part owner of the ship</B>.  [For the official report see TLB., X, 30-34.]</div> <bR> <bR> <div> 1800:     Taken <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_adelphi.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Adelphi</I></U></A></FONT></div> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT>Taken & re-taken  <I>Marquis of Kildare</I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>, </I></FONT>D <A NAME="dodd_marquis_of_kildare_action_1800"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><I>     </I></FONT></div> <div>      Taken <I>Duke of Clarence, </I>Dennes, on 28 December 1800, off Porto Rico.</div> <bR> <div>      31/12/1798, Richard Dodd, given command of <I>Marquis of Kildare,</I> after release from a year in prison, following capture of <I>Countess of      Leicester</I> by the French,  attacked and captured by a French Privateer <I>Ransome</I> 14-guns + 100 crew, 18 of which sailed her for four      days towards France. They were overwhelmed by the Packet's crew which brought <I>Marquis</I> into St. Ives.  Dodd was paid £690.9.0 by      the Post Office for her salvage.  </div> <div>      </div> <div>      </div> <bR> <bR> <div> 1801:     Taken <I> Earl Gower, </I>Deake, off Lisbon by <I>Telegraph</I> privateer cutter, Captain Scille, of Calais, 14 four-pounders & 54 men</div> <bR> <div> 1803:      Lost     <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_lady_hobart.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Lady Hobart</I></U></A><I> </I></FONT><I> </I>30 June, 1803. Struck an iceberg off Halifax - see <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="#lady_hobart__account_of_her_loss_" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U>Captain Fellowe's narrative</U></A></FONT> of her loss  </div> <bR> <div> <I>     </I>Taken  <I>King George, </I>Yescombe. Attacked 30 July, 1803, surrendered to a 14 gun, 98 crew schooner privateer & taken to Vigo.           Captain Yescombe died of his wounds, a musket ball in the thigh, during his return to Falmouth on a chartered Swedish dogger.</div> <bR> <div> <I>     </I>Taken <I> Duke of York</I> (1798), without resistance on 18 September 1803, by the (small) French privateer<I> La Dinart, </I>8 guns & 65 men,</div> <div>      off Cape Finisterre and carried into Vigo.</div> <bR> <div> 1804:     Taken  <I>Duke of Kent</I>, Dennes. To the windward of Barbados on 13th May, by the <I>Sans Pareil</I>, privateer of 12 guns and 80 men.</div> <div>      Wrecked. <I>Duke of Cumberland</I>, Lawrence. Driven on shore at Antigua during hurricane, 4 September. Total wreck. One man died. </div> <bR> <div> 1806:      Taken <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_adder.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Adder</I></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1808       Lost  <I>Auckland</I>  (On Cadiz shoal, under the command of Parsons, 10 November, 1808)</div> <bR> <div>      Action  <I>Prince Ern</I><I> <A NAME="prince_ernest___action_1808"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></I><I> Petre   </I> [qf. RCG 21/5/1808]</div> <div> <I>     </I>Capt. Petre and the crew of the <I>Prince Ernest, </I>have given fresh proof of the bravery which pervades the Falmouth packets.  </div> <div>      On 19th March, in the Charibbee sea, Capt. Petre fell in with a French schooner privateer of 10-guns and full of men, which he fought      in close action for three hours and beat off.  On the 20th, the packet, thus gallantly  preserved arrived at Jamaica.  We      regret to add,      that  this honourable success was not abtained without bloodshed.  Capt. Petre and three of his brave fellows was wounded.</div> <bR> <div> RCG 11/6/1808: From the <I>Jamaica Royal Gazette</I>, copy of a letter from Capt. Petre to Jarmin Barbauld, esq., Deputy postmaster-general. His Majesty's Packet, Prince Ernest, Port Royal, Jamaica, March 20, 1808.</div> <div> Sir, I beg to inform you that on March 10, 1808, at three P.M., Port Mourant W.N.W distant four leagues, <I>Prince Ernest </I>of six guns and 28 men and two passengers, fell in with a French schooner of 10 guns (four of which of large calibre) and upwards of 100 men. We commenced action and continued until six P.M.  The first ten minutes was very warm and close, within pistol-shot, when his large guns did great execution among the sails and rigging, and two of my fine fellow and myself were wounded.  In the course of the first two hours she attempted twice to board, but was repulsed with great slaughter and the last time, at five P.M. with a discharge from great guns and small arms, she laid me alongside, but my choice little crew were ready to receive them, and they appeared panick-struck with the loss of two of their best men at the helm.  When alongside, they hauled off on our larboard beam, and fired a few shot, but without much effect, and at six P.M. ran away to the northward under her square-sail and top gallant-sail not being able to make any sail on her main-mast, it being very much wounded.  I have great satisfaction in saying that every Officer, men and boys, have done their duty to their King and country; and I remain sir, your obedient servant.</div> <bR> <div> Also letter from B. Barbauld, Esq., D. P. M., [Deputy Post-Master] Kingston, Jamaica. - The merchants and other inhabitants of this town (Kingston)  have come forward with their usual  liberality, to reward the gallant crew of the<I> Prince Ernest</I>, and it is proposed that the sum of <B>700 Guineas</B>, which has been raised, shall be appropriated in the following manner, viz. <B>To the Captain, 200 Guineas,</B> Master 100 ditto, Mate 50 ditto, Boatswain, Gunner and Carpenter, each 25 ditto.  Each of the crew, 10 ditto.  The present was accompanied by a very handsome letter from John Jaques, esq. Mayor of Kingston, in which the "gallant and good conduct" of Capt. Petre, his officers and crew, are acknowledged in the warmest of terms.</div> <bR> <div> It was afterwards learned the French privateer was called <I><B>Massena</B></I>, carrying 120 men.  The first discharge from the packet killed her second captain and two seamen, and mortally wounded the first Captain, and she was not captured owing to the suddden panic which seized her crew, and her superior sailing.  When she attempted to boad the second time, the determined spirit of resistance which appeared in the packet's crew, daunted the enemy, which suddenly sheered off without closing.  The packet strove to grapple with her, but could only reach her ensign, one half of which was torn off and remained in possession of the packet as a trophy of her victory.  Our readers will be glad to hear the vereral Capt. Petre (a thorough-bred seaman of the first water) is recovering from his wound, but the ball is not recovered yet: it entered near the shoulder-bone.  One of the brave fellows died of his wounds, the others are recovered.</div> <div> [Same edition DIED Sat. 4 June, at his house in Helston, aged 73, <B>Admiral Kempthorne R.N</B>.)</div> <bR> <div> 1810       Lost  <I>Princess Augusta</I></div> <bR> <div> 1812:     Taken  <I>Princess Ameila  </I>Caught up in the war with America, which began in June 1812.</div> <div>      Intercepted by US<I> Rossie</I> (showing Spanish flag) off St. Thomas, Capt Moorsom & Master killed. Packet surrendered 15/9/1812</div> <div>      </div> <div>      Taken & given back<I> Townshend</I></div> <div> <I>     </I>14/10/1812 <I>Townshend</I> sailed for Jamaica with 32 men & boys plus passengers.  On 23/11/1812 she was attacked by two           America Privateers, for 2 1/2  hours they repulsed boarding by <I><B>Tom </B></I>16-guns 120 men, and <I><B>Bona</B></I> 6-guns & 90 men.  Sedgemoor, the      Mate, was killed.  10 Crew & 3 passengers wounded and Capt. Cock was forced to strike his colours, with five feet of water in the      hold, bowsprit & foremast gone and the main mast ready to fall.  She was plundered and given back so Capt. Cock could reach      Barbados.  The vessel was repaired and on 3 January,1813, sailed for Falmouth with the mail.  Another battle with a 14-gun privateer      was repulsed on the way home, arriving 2 February,1813.  Townshend had used 400 x 9lb shot, 1800 musket & pistol ball cartridges.       The crew were paid 40 shillings [£2] each by the Post Office, to replace lost bedding and their sea chests.</div> <bR> <div>      Philbrick: Nov 1812, in war with America, <I>Townnshend</I> was attacked & captured by US <I>Tom</I> & US <I>Bona</I>. <B>Bought back with           promissory note & repaired at Carlisle Bay Barbados. </B>Sailing for New York in January 1813, she repulsed another attack, (by  a      US Schooner flying English colours.) returned to become a living legend to courage & tenacity of Crew on Falmouth Packet ships.</div> <div>      </div> <bR> <div> 1813       Taken  <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_mary_ann__1811_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Mary Ann</I></U></A><I>,</I></FONT> on 4 April, by American Brig privateer <I>General Tonkins</I>, 11-guns 120men </div> <div>      Taken & Sunk  <I>Townshend</I></div> <div> <I>     </I>Under Cock, <I>Townshend</I> was captured by French Frigate <I>La Clorinde on </I>18 Fenruary,1814, and sunk. Cock died 16/1/1816, Aged 36</div> <div> 1813:      Taken  <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="id22_lapwing__1811_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="PostOffice Packets"><U><I>Lapwing</I></U></A> </FONT> off Barbados, by <I>Fox, </I>Veall,  <A NAME="lapwing_taken_1813"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A> <a href="HTMLobj-381/Loss_of_the_LAPWING__1811__Narrative.doc"><u>Narrative of Lapwing taken 1813</u> </a>  </div> <bR> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >1829:      Loss of the </FONT><A HREF="id18_myrtle_.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Chronology (Timeline)"><U><I>Myrtle</I></U></A> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >on Sable Island, Halifax</FONT></div> <bR> <div> 1835:     Damaged  HMPB <I>Star,</I> Lt. Binney, Falmouth- Halifax, on 20 November, 1835 in Lat 45N, Long 45W. (See report) </div> <bR> <div> 1838:      Lost   HMPB <I>Briseis</I>, Lt. John Downey      1829-38.  Halifax      <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="#briseis___news_of_loss" TITLE="Actions, Damage Losses"><U>Lost At Sea 1838</U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>An insight to Falmouth's heritage</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > - hard won fame!</FONT></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="233e6e30.jpg" border=0 width="486" height="483" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> Some of the archived data pertaining to the images of the <I>Lady Hobart:</I> </div> <bR> <div> <I>Royal Cornwall Gazette </I>(RCG) 3 Sept.,1803: Quoting the <I>Cornish Gazette</I> of Sept.,3rd, 1803. </div> <bR> <div> The loss of LADY HOBART packet <A NAME="lady_hobart__account_of_her_loss_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A> - account by her Captain, William Dorset Fellowes.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Circumstances of the loss are so honourable to the character of Captain Fellowes. </I></div> <bR> <div> The<I> </I><I><B>Lady Hobart</B></I> sailed from <B>Halifax </B>on 22nd June 1803, on a course South and East to clear <B>Sable Island</B>, then northwards to avoid enemy cruisers. On 26th at Seven o-clock A.M., we discovered a large schooner in French colours standing towards us with her deck full of men and concluded she had been apprized of the war and she took us for a merchant brig. I cleared the ship for action at 8, [and] being within range of our guns, fired a shot at her - when she struck colours.. sent on board and took possession of the vessel, <I><B>L'aimable Julie </B></I>of Port Liberte, 80 tons burthen, new, and bound thither from the island of St. Pierre, laden with salt fish and commanded by citizen Charles Rossie. All of the prisoners [I] sent to Newfoundland [with their vessel], except the Captain, mate and boy, the Captain's nephew, who remained in the Packet.<I> </I><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" >[Captain Fellowes does not yet state how many of his packet's crew were assigned the task of taking his prize to Newfoundland ]</FONT><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" > </FONT></div> <bR> <div> <I>Tuesday 28th June: </I>1 A.M., at seven miles per hour by [the] log, we struck an island of ice, with a force causing several of the crew to be pitched out of their hammocks. Being roused out of my sleep by the shudders of the shock, ran up on deck. The helm being put hard-a-port, the ship struck again on the chest-tree and swinging around on the heel, her stern post being stove in, and the rudder carried away, before we could haul her off. The island of ice appeared to hang over the ship, at least twice the height of our mast head; we suppose the isle to be 1/4 to 1/2 a mile in length.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The sea was breaking over the ice, water was rushing in so as to fill the hold in a few minutes. Hove the guns overboard, cut away anchors from the bows, got two sails under the ship's bottom, kept both pumps going and bailing with buckets at the main hatch in the hope of preventing her from sinking. In a quarter of an hour, she settled down into her fore chains in the water.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Our situation was now become most perilous. Aware of the danger of a moments delay in hoisting the boats, I consulted Captain <B>Thomas</B> of the Navy, and Mr. <B>Bargus</B>, my master, as to the propriety of making any further efforts to save the ship or the mail; these gentlemen agreed with me that no time was to be lost in hoisting the boats; and that as the vessel was settling fast, our first and only consideration was to endeavour to preserve the crew.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> And here I must pay the tribute of praise which the steady discipline and good conduct of every one on board so justly merit. From the first moment of the ship striking, not a word was uttered expressive of a desire to leave the wreck: My orders were promptly obeyed, and though the danger of perishing was every instant increasing, each man waited for his turn to get into the boats with a coolness and composure that could not be surpassed.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Having fortunately succeeded in hoisting the cutter and jolly-boat, the sea then running high, we placed the ladies (<B>Mrs Fellowes, Mrs Scott, Miss Cotenham</B>) in the former. Miss Cotenham was so terrified that she sprung from the gunwale, and pitched into the bottom of the boat with a considerable violence.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The few provisions which had been saved from the men's berths were then put into the boats, which were quickly veered astern. By this time the main deck forward was under water and nothing but the quarter-deck appeared. I then ordered my men to the boats and having previously lashed iron pigs of ballast to the mail, it was thrown overboard.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> I had now perceived the ship was sinking fast; and called out to the men to haul up and receive me, intending to drop myself into the cutter from the end of the trysail boom, fearing she might be stove under the counter; and I desired Mr Bargus, who continued with me on the wreck, to go over first. In this instance he replied that he begged leave to disobey my orders; and that he must see me safely over before he attempted to go himself. Such conduct and at such a moment requires no comment.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Whilst the cutter was getting out, I perceived one of the seamen (<B>John Tipper</B>) emptying a demijohn, or bottle, containing about 5 gallons which on enquiry, I found to be rum. he said he was emptying it for the purpose of filling it with water from the scuttle cask on the quarter deck, which had been generally filled overnight, and which was then the only fresh water to be got at: it became afterwards our principal supply; I relate this circumstance as being so highly credible to the character of a British sailor.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> We had scarce quitted the ship, when she suddenly gave a heavy lurch to port, and then went down head foremast,(sic) I had ordered the colours to be hoisted on the main-top-gallant-mast-head with the union downwards, as a signal of distress. that if any vessel should happen to be near us at the dawn of day, our calamitous situation might be perceived from her, and she might afford us relief.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> At this aweful crisis of the ship sinking, when it is natural to suppose that fear would be so predominant principle of the human mind, the coolness of a British seaman was very conspicuously manifested by <B>John Andrew</B> exclaiming, <I>There my brave fellows, there goes the pride of Old England </I></div> <bR> <div> I cannot describe my own feelings or the sensations of my people. Exposed as we were in two small open boats upon the great Atlantic Ocean, bereft of all assistance, but that which our own exertions, under Providence, could afford us, we narrowly escaped being swallowed up in the vortex. </div> <bR> <div> At the moment when the ship was sinking, she was surrounded by what seamen term a 'school', or an incalculable number of whales, we were extremely apprehensive, from their near approaches to the boats, that they might strike and materially damage them; we therefore shouted and used every effort to drive them away, but without effect; they seemed to persue us and remained about the boats for the space of half an hour; when they disappeared.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> We now rigged the foremast, the wind blowing from the precise point on what it was necessary to sail, to reach the nearest land. An hour had scarcely elapsed from the time the ship struck, till she foundered. The distribution of the crew had already been made in the following order.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> In the cutter - of 20 ft. long, 6 ft. 4ins broad and 2 ft 6 ins. deep, we embarked 3 ladies and myself, Capt. <B>Richard Thomas</B>, of the navy, the French Captain, the master's mate, gunner, steward, carpenter and eight seamen - in all 18 people: which together with the provisions, brought the boat's gunwale down to within 6-7 ins. of the water. From this confined space, some idea may be found of our crowded state; but it is scarcely possible for the imagination to conceive the extent of our sufferings in consequence of it.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> In the jolly-boat - 14 ft. from stem to stern, 5 ft. 3ins broad and 2 ft. deep, embarked Mr <B>Samuel Bargus</B>, master;<B> Lt.Col. George Crooke</B>, of the 1st regiment of Guards, the boatswain, sailmaker and seven seamen, in all 11 persons.<I>! </I></div> <bR> <div> The only provisions we were enable to save consisted of between 40 and 50 lbs of biscuits; 1 demijohn containing 5 gallons of water: a small jug of the same, and part of a barrel of spruce beer, 1 demijohn of rum, a few bottles of port wine.<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" > [later they found a small (salted) ham] </FONT></div> <bR> <div> With 2 compasses, a quadrant, a spy-glass, a small tin mug, and a wine glass. The deck-lantern which had a few spare candles in it, had likewise been thrown into the boat and the cook having had the precaution to secure his tinder-box and some matches that were kept in a bladder, we were afterwards enabled to steer by night.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The wind was now blowing strong from the westward, with a heavy sea and the day had just dawned. Estimating ourselves to be at the distance of 350 miles from St John's in Newfoundland, with a prospect of a continuance of westerly wind, it became at once necessary to use the strictest economy. I represented to my companions in distress, that our resolution, once made, might not be changed; and that we must begin by suffering privations, which I foresaw would be greater than I ventured to explain. To each person were served out half a biscuit, and a glass of wine [port], which was the only allowance for the next 24 hours, all agreeing to leave the water intact as long as possible. The main hatch tarpaulin had been thrown into the cutter; which being cut into lengths, enabled us to form a temporary bulwark against the waves. Soon after day-light we made sail, with the jolly-boat in tow, and stood close-hauled for Newfoundland.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> We now said prayers and returned thanks to God for our deliverance.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> At noon observed in Lat 46.33 N, <B>St John's </B>bearing W 3/4 N<B>, </B>distant about <B>350 miles</B>.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Wednesday 25th June: </I>We had passed a long and sleepless night, I found myself at dawn with 28 people looking up to me with anxiety for the direction of our course, as well as for the distribution of their scanty allowance. On examining our provisions, we found the bag of biscuits much damaged by salt water, it therefore became necessary to curtail the allowance, to which precaution all cheerfully assented.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> A thick fog soon after came on; it continued all day with heavy rain, which as we had no means of collecting, afforded us no relief, our crowded and exposed situation was rendered more distressing from being thoroughly wet, no time having been permitted to take more than a great coat or a blanket with the clothes on his back.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Kept the oars in both boats going constantly, and steering W.N.W course. All hands anxiously looking out for a strange sail. At noon, served a 1/4 of a biscuit and a glass of rum to each person. St. John's bore W. by N. 1/4 N., distant <B>310 miles</B>. No observation. <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" >[the sun being obscured by fog]. </FONT></div> <bR> <div> One of the ladies now read prayers to us, particularly those after a storm and those for safety at sea.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Thursday 30th June: </I>At day break we were all so benumbed with wet and extreme cold that 1/2 a glass of rum and a mouthful of biscuit, were served out to each person; the ladies, who had hitherto refused to taste the spirits, were now prevailed upon to take the stated allowance, which afforded them immediate relief, and enabled them the better to resist the severity of the weather.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The sea was mostly calm, with thick fog and sleet; the air raw and cold: we had kept at our oars all night, and we continued to row during the whole of this day. The jolly-boat having unfortunately put off from the ship with only 3 oars, and having but a small sail, converted into a fore-sail from a top-gallant-steering sail, without needles or twine, we were obliged to keep her constantly in tow. The cutter also having lost two of her oars in hoisting out, was now so deep in the water, that with the least sea she made little way so that we were not enabled to profit much by the light winds.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Some one from the jolly-boat called out that there was a part of a cold ham, which had not been discovered before. A small bit, about the size of a nutmeg, was immediately served out to each person, and the remainder was thrown overboard, as I was fearful of it's increasing our thirst, which we had not the means of assuaging.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> At noon we judged ourselves to be on the North East edge of the Grand Bank, St. John's being W by N 1/4 N, distant <B>246 miles</B>. No observation. Performed divine service.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Friday 1st July: </I>During the greater part of the last 24 hours, it blew a hard gale of wind from the W.S.W. with a heavy confused sea from the same quarter, a thick fog and sleet throughout, the weather extremely cold, for the spray of the sea freezing as it blew over the boat, rendering our situation truly deplorable. It was at this time that we all felt a most painful depression of spirits; the want of nourishment, and the continued cold and wet weather has rendered us almost incapable of exertion. The very confined space in the boat would not allow of our stretching our limbs, and several of the men whose feet were constantly swelled, repeatedly called out for water.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> On my reminding them of the resolution, we had made, and of the absolute necessity of our persevering in it, they acknowledged the justice and propriety of my refusal to comply with their desire , and the water remained untouched.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The cutter was now so low in the water, and had shipped so much sea, we were obliged to cast off the jolly-boat's tow-rope, and very soon lost sight of her in the fog. This unlucky circumstance was productive of the utmost distress to us all. To add to the misery of our situation, we lost with the boat, not only a considerable part of our stores, but with them our quadrant and spy-glass. At about four A.M. the gale increasing, with a prodigious heavy sea, we brought the cutter to, by heaving the boat's sail loose over the bow, and veering it out with a rope bent to each yard-arm, which kept our head to the sea, so as to break it's force before it reached us. </div> <bR> <div> Under all the circumstances, the ladies particularly, with a heroism that no coward (?) can describe, afforded us the best example of patience and fortitude. We joined in prayer, which tranquillised (sic) our minds, and afforded us the consolatory hope of bettering our conditions; on these occasions we were all bare-headed, notwithstanding the incessant rain.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Saturday 2nd July: </I>It rained hard during the night, and the cold became so severe, that almost every one in the boat was unable to move, our hands and feet were so swelled that many of them became quite black. At day-break I served out about a third of a wine-glass of rum to each person, with a quarter of a biscuit, and before noon a small quantity of <I><B>spruce beer,</B></I> which afforded us great relief.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> At half past eleven A.M., a sail was discovered to the eastward, standing to the N.W. Out joy at such a sight with the inward hope of deliverance gave us all a new life. I immediately ordered the people to sit as close together as possible, to protect us having the appearance of an armed boat, and having tied a lady's shawl to the boat-hook, I rose myself as well as I could and from the bow, waved it as long as my strength would allow me. Having hauled close to the wind, we neared each other fast, and in less than a quarter of an hour we perceived the jolly-boat.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> I cannot attempt to describe the various sensations of joy and disappointment, which were by turn expressed on all our countenances. As soon as we approached the jolly-boat, we threw out to her a tow-rope, and bore away to the North West. The jolly-boat had been steered two nights without any light, and on meeting again after such tempestuous weather could not have happened but from the interposition of Providence.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Our hopes of deliverance had now been buoyed up to the highest pitch. The excitement arising from our joy began perceptibly to lose it's effect, and to a state of artificial strength succeeded such a despondency hat no entreaty nor argument, could rouse some of the men even to the common exertions of making sail.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> To the French Captain and several of the people who appeared to have suffered most, I now, for the first time, served out a wine glass full of water. I had earnestly cautioned the crew not to taste the salt water, but some of these unhappy men had, nevertheless; taken large draughts of it, and become delirious; some were seized with violent cramps and twitching of the stomach and bowels, I again took occasion to point out to the rest of them the extreme danger of such indiscretion. </div> <div> Performed divine service at noon. St John's bore W. by N. 3/4 N., distant <B>110 mil</B><B>e</B><B>s.</B> No observation of the sun.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Sunday 3rd July: </I>The cold, wet, hunger and thirst which we now experienced are not to be described, and made our situation very deplorable. At 8 P.M., having a strong breeze from the Southward we stood on under the canvass we could spread, the jolly-boat followed in our wake, and pulling her oars to keep up with us. The French Captain, who for some days had behaved under a despondency which admitted no consolation, jumped over-board in a fit of delirium and instantly sunk. One of the prisoners in the jolly-boat became so outrageous, that it was found necessary to lash him to the bottom of the boat.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> We were all deeply affected by the circumstances, the least trifling accident, or disappointment was sufficient to render our irritable state more painful: and I was seized with such melancholy, that I lost all recollection of my situation for many hours; a violent shivering had seized me, which returned at intervals; and as I had refused all sustenance, my state was very alarming; toward night I enjoyed, for the first time, three or four hours sound sleep, a perspiration came on, and I awoke as from a dream, free from delirium, but painfully alive to all the horrors that surrounded me.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The sea continued to break over the boats so much, that those who had force enough, were obliged to bale out without intermission.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Those who sat in the stern of the cutter were so confined, that it was, that it was difficult for anyone to put his hand into his pocket, and the greater part of the crew lay in water upon the boat's bottom. The sun had never cheered us but once during the whole of our perilous voyage.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> A very heavy gale of wind now came in from the southward, with so tremendous a sea, that the greatest vigilance was necessary in managing the helm, as the slightest deviation would have broached the boats to, and consequently must have hurried our destruction. We scudded before it, expecting every wave to overwhelm us; but through the providence of Almighty God, we weathered the storm, which began to abate towards night. We had nearly run the distance we had supposed ourselves from St. John's; but owing to the thickness of the fog we were prevented from discerning to any great extent.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Towards evening, a beautiful white bird, web-footed, and not unlike a dove in size and plumage, hovered over the mast head of the cutter; notwithstanding the pitching of the boat, it frequently attempted to perch on it, and continued fluttering there until dark.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Trifling as this circumstance may appear, it was considered by us all as a propitious omen.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The impressive manner in which it left us, and returned to gladden us with it's presence, anchored in us a superstition, to which sailors are at all times said to be prone: we indulged ourselves on this occasion, with the most consolatory assurances that some hand which had provided their solace to our distresses, would extricate us from the danger which surrounded us.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Monday 4th July: </I>As the day dawned, the fog became so thick, that we could not see very far from the boat. During the night we had been under the necessity of casting off the jolly-boat's tow-rope - to induce her crew to exert themselves by rowing. We again lost sight of her and I perceived that this unlucky accident excited great uneasiness among us and we were no so reduced that the most trifling remarks or exclamation agitated us very much.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> Soon after first daylight, the sun rose in view for the second time since we quitted the wreck.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> It is worthy of remark, that during the period of 7 days, that we were in the boat, we never had an opportunity of taking an observation, either of the sun, moon or stars, or of any drying of our clothes.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> The fog at length beginning to disperse, we instantly caught a glimpse of the land within a mile distance, <B>between Kettle Cove and island Cove in Conception Bay</B>, 14 leagues from the harbour of St. John's. Almost at the same moment we had the inexpressible satisfaction to discover the jolly-boat, and a schooner in shore, standing off towards us!<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> I wish it were possible for me to describe our emotions at this interesting moment. From the constant watching and fatigue, and from the langour (?) and depression arising from our exhausted state, such accumulated irritability was brought on, that the joy of a speedy relief affected us all in a most remarkable way; many burst into tears, some looked at each other with a stupid stare, as if doubtful of the the reality of what they saw, as if doubtful of the reality of what they saw: several were in such a lethargic state that no consolation, no animating language, could rouse them to exertions.<I> </I></div> <bR> <div> <I>At this affecting period, though overpowered by our feelings, and impressed with the recollection of our sufferings, and the sight of the many deplorable objects, I proposed to offer up our solemn thanks to heaven for our miraculous deliverance. Every one cheerfully assented; and as soon as I opened the prayer book (which I had secured the last time I went down to my cabin) - there was an universal silence; a spirit of elation was so singularly manifested on this occasion, that to the benefits of a religious sense, in uncultivated minds, must be ascribed that discipline, good order, and exertion, which even the sight of land could scarcely produce!</I> </div> <bR> <div> By the editor of the <I>Cornish Gazette;</I> Thus far, with the exception of a few trifling abridgements, we have given the narrative of Captain Fellowes's own language. We shall now briefly state, that they were all taken on board the schooner, and soon after, arrived at St. John's, Newfoundland, where they were received in the most humane and handsome manner by Brigadier-General Skerrit, who commanded there. </div> <bR> <div> Captain Fellowes soon after hired a vessel, which brought him with Mrs. Fellowes, Mr. Bargus and the passengers to Bristol, where they arrived on 3rd August (1803), now past. Mr <B>Robert Jenkins</B>, master's mate was left in charge of the crew, who may return via Halifax.</div> <div> [On the next packet?] </div> <bR> <div> We subjoin a list of persons thus providentially escaped; </div> <bR> <div> Crew </div> <div> William Dorset Fellowes Esq.., Commander </div> <div> John Harris </div> <div> Mr. Samuel Bargus, Master </div> <div> John Andrew </div> <div> Mr. Robert Jenkins, Master's mate </div> <div> John Anderson </div> <div> Peter Germain, Gunner </div> <div> P. Martin </div> <div> Benjamin Saule, Boatswain </div> <div> John Tipper </div> <div> John Gard, Carpenter </div> <div> William Tregido <I>see note following</I> </div> <div> Francis Lambrick, Sailmaker </div> <div> Christian McCleaver </div> <div> Thomas Bell, Ship's Cook </div> <div> John Watson </div> <div> Edward Roberts, Captain's Steward </div> <div> Timothy Donuhaugh </div> <div> Richard Harris, Captain's Servant </div> <div> Richard Pearce </div> <bR> <div> French Prisoners of war & Passengers </div> <bR> <div> Charles Rosse* [Rossie?] - afterwards drowned </div> <div> Mrs Scott </div> <div> G.Goslin </div> <div> Miss Cotenham V.Francois </div> <div> Mrs Fellowes </div> <div> Lt. Col. Cooke </div> <div> Capt. Richard Thomas RN </div> <bR> <div> *Lost: Captain Charles Rossie, French prisoner of War, master of <I>L'aimable Julie</I>. </div> <div> [jumped overboard & drowned, 3 July,1803] </div> <bR> <div> <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Serif" >[Note:</FONT>We may perhaps deduce that at least 8 men were assigned by Captain Fellowes to carry Lady Hobart's prize, <I>L'aimable Julie </I>to Newfoundland, given a normal (peacetime) compliment of 28 men on the packet<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Serif" >.] </FONT></div> <bR> <bR> <div> David Mudd [<I>The Falmouth Packets,</I> 56 pages, published by Bossiney Books (1978)] includes a picture [plate 11] of the loss of the <I>Lady Hobart,</I> and tells us that; "By 1851, another Inn which was given up was the LADY HOBART near Fish Cross; William Tregidgo, a Greenwich Pensioner, had named it after a Packet, on which he had sailed and had been wrecked <I>on an Island of Ice</I> in 1803. The crew & passengers took to the boats and reached Newfoundland. After this loss, <B>winter packet sailings to Halifax were stopped</B>."  <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" >[the loss above happened in June]</FONT> </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ============================</div> <div> FP 16/1/1836: <I><B>Star</B></I>  <A NAME="star_lt__binney__died_in_gale_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A>Packet Brig, Lt. Binney sailed for Halifax 7/11/1835 Long  - been spoken on 27/11/1835 a complete wreck.  </div> <div> Letter received via LONDON, merchant steamer ex Lisbon, from another vessel;</div> <div> "At sea Dec 9, 1835. Lat 17 N. Long 32 W"</div> <div> On 20 November, 1835, Lat. 45.57 N., Long. 38 W, heavy SW Gale until 22/11 wind shifted from WSW to NW increasing.  2 am 24 November, a heavy sea struck starboard beam, threw her onto her beam ends, stove in sky & dead lights, lost overboard seaman William Bate<FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Arial" >*</FONT>, in a minute she righted with loss of fore topsail-yard & tiller.  Shipped a spare one which went immediately, shipped a third which also went, then secured the rudder with iron stanchions.  Saw a barque to windward with foremast & bowsprit gone.  Gale increased to hurricane, ship under main try-sail & fore storm stay-sail .  At 1100 latter blown out of bolt-rope, at 1200 a terrific sea struck & threw her on her beam-ends, with her tops in the water, the sea making a fair breach over her, washed the Commander, Master & 11 men overboard. The Master only being able to regain the ship.  The sea carried away everything on deck to the covering boards, which in many places were ripped up and required greatest exertions to fill up between the timbers, to prevent her going down, the sea leaving nothing above the gunwale but the Starboard cat-head & anchor.</div> <div> In a few minutes the ship righted, with the loss of masts & bowsprit.  Found between 5 & 6 ft of water in the hold. Part of the crew employed pumping & clearing the wreck from the ship, the sea still making a complete breach over her, secured the rudder with iron stanchions & deemed it necessary to keep the rest of the crew below.  Gale continued to 26 November 1835, then moderated.  With a spread yard got a studding-sail on the stump of Fore mast and ran before the wind & was making the best of her way to Antigua, when they fell in with a vessel bound to Lisbon. </div> <div> Following are <B>names of those who were swept from the deck:</B>  <B>Lt. Binney</B>, Commander, <B>George Rose, William Manning, Edward Roberts, James Such, George Atlas, N. McDonnell, Stephen Thomas, William Bent [</B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Arial" ><B>*</B></FONT><B>Bate?], Samuel Clark, George Bates & John Ballard</B>.  <B>Richard Dennis</B>, the commander's boy was found dead in the Surgeon's cabin after clearing the wreck.</div> <bR> <div> FP 16/1/36 also reported <I>Shipping Gazette</I> had excited alarm over reporting fears for the<I> Spey, </I>erroneously stating she sailed for Halifax on 3/12, when, in fact. she left for Mexico on 18 November 1835, and there were no fears entertained for her safety... (<FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Arial" ><I>Gazette</I> confused Star?</FONT>)</div> <div> FP 5/3/36: <I>Star</I> Packet in Jamaica 15/1/36, fitting up for the purpose of bringing home invalids</div> <div> FP 12/3/36: Plymouth, <I>Star</I> Packet arrived from Jamaica, Brown (Acting) ordered here for repairs.</div> <div> FP 26/3/36: Plymouth 24/3, <I>Star</I> packet had remains of her masts taken out, <B>in future to be rigged as a brig, not a barque.</B></div> <div> FP 9/4/36: Lt Christopher Smith to <I>Star</I> under repair Plymouth, damage 24/11/35 en route to Halifax, "<I>she is one of the ships built by contract upon the plan of </I><B>Captain [William]Symonds </B> (The Navy Surveyor),<I> from the position the </I><I>Star</I><I> was in, it appears almost a miracle she did not founder, if her masts had not gone over the board, she must inevitably have been lost. The sea made a clear sweep over her deck & carried away everything, it will be necessary to replace about 20 of her top timbers and other repairs of a serious nature</I>"</div> <bR> <div> Note:<FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Arial" > In response to the complaints of relatives of the packet crews, who referred to navy brigs as "coffin chips" Symonds (angrily) ordered the masts of those vessels in service be reduced by 15ft.</FONT> </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ==========================</div> <bR> <div> FP 7/4/<B>1838</B>:  <A NAME="briseis___news_of_loss"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A> Fears begin to be entertained for the BRISEIS, Lt. J. Downey, due from Halifax 10 March, but we believe there are instances of packets coming from the same place after being overdue much longer periods and therefore entertain good hope that the BRISEIS will shortly arrive.</div> <bR> <div> West Briton, Truro, Friday April 20th, 1838: BRISEIS, HEARTY, REDPOLE, THAIS, ARIEL, CALYPSO and the MYRTLE, all except the latter foundering at sea and all hands perished.  "Surely the Government will no longer continue in the Packet service so dangerous a class of vessels, as the old 10-gun brigs have always proved themselves to be, but at once provide for that service such craft as experience has proved to be so necessary for the security of life and property."  </div> <bR> <div> FP 21/4/1838: By MAGNET, left Falmouth 10/2/38, arrived Halifax 16/3/38, at which time we are sorry to say, no tidings had been heard of BRISEIS, Lt John Downey, which sailed from here with North American mail on 6/1/38.</div> <bR> <div> FP 28/4/1838: We no longer entertain hope of the BRISEIS which sailed hence for Halifax on the 6th of January. She must have been lost on her outward passage  with all her officers & crew, a skilful, brave and gallant band.   The relatives and friends of all on board her are sunk in the deepesy grief, great distress prevails in many families. </div> <div> In all such cases... we think the Admiralty is bound to make some allowance to those who are dependent on the risks of the sea in ships which are generally condemned as unfit for the service in which they are employed.  </div> <div> [Note:research other articles regarding accuracy of the statement - brigs "unfit for service" a..k..a. "coffin ships"]</div> <bR> <div> FP 6/6/1840: Married Kenwyn (Truro) Lt. W(illiam) Luce of HMPB PENGUIN, to Mrs Downey, widow of Late Lt. John Downey R.N., lost with his ship BRISEIS in 1838. [Note: <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#BF0000" FACE="Serif" >thus becoming son-in-law of Richard Symons, shipbuilder, Flushing</FONT>]</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>