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.