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Thursday 19 November 2015

The Last Voyage of the Sea Horse

Ramsgate on the morning of the 25 January, would have presented a bustling scene as the troops of the 59th and 62nd regiments, marched down the Military Road to the harbour to embark on their vessels for their journey to Cork. [1] The majority of the 59th boarded the Sea Horse, Master James Gibbs, a ship registered in Lloyds as having a burthen of 295 tons, with a crew of 17.[2] She reportedly took on board five companies of the 59th regiment, consisting of 16 officers and 287 men, 33 women and 38 children and a young naval officer, travelling to meet his ship the Tonnant, a total of 393 persons.[3] The remainder of the regiment embarked on the Lord Melville, Master Thomas Arman, a ship with a burden of 351 tons. She reportedly, took on board 3 captains, 8 Lieutenants, 3 ensigns, 260 rank and file, 2 servants, 33 women and 30 children, a total of 339 of the 59th Regiment and part of the 62nd Regiment, consisting of a Colonel, 1 Captain, 2 Lieutenants, 3 Ensigns, 75 rank and file, 1 servant, 6 women and 2 children, a total of 50.[4] The William Pitt, Master G Proctor, the largest vessel of the three, with a burden of 418 tons, took on 18 officers and 406 men of the 62nd Regiment, the remainder of that regiment, 6 officers and 80 men, embarking on the Hound, Master Chapman, a three year old ship, with of 324 ton burden and an A1 classification.[5]
Ramsgate Jan. 25. - Sailed the William Pitt, Lord Melville and Sea Horse transports, having on board the 2d battalions of the 59th and 62d regiments for Ireland; they are the finest transports we have had in this harbour for a length of time past. The Duncombe and Hound transports are still here, waiting the arrival of either the 14th or 44th regiments, also destined for Ireland. The above regiments were intended to have been embarked at Dover, but the transports taking them on board were considered to draw too much water for that port. Sailed the Good Statesman transport for Plymouth; Catherine transport for Ostend; and Exchange transport for Calais, with several freight vessels, to bring over the Blues and 3d Dragoon Guards; 5 or 6 transports remain, taking in the heavy baggage of different regiments, for hull, London and Portsmouth. Upwards of 100 sail of merchant vessels of different descriptions have got to the sea this tide, bound to the Westward.[6]

Henry Moses, Ramsgate 1816

Having sailed on 25 January, the three transports came to anchor in the Downs, an area of sea, near the English Channel off the East Kent coast, awaiting the right wind for the voyage.  Here they were joined by the Boadicea, Fox, Promise and Fancy, Martin, Mariner 2nd, Promise, Betsy, Lord Cawdor, Patriot, Elizabeth, Mariner 3rd, Triton and William troop transports that sailed from Dover on the 26 January bound for Ireland, according to Naval Intelligence.[7] The Boadicea and Fox were transporting the 82nd regiment to Cork, while the other ships were transporting the 16th and 35th regiments and the 2nd Garrison Battalion. The Harmony, John and Eleanor transports also sailed to Plymouth: the Britannia for Ostend and the Ulysses and Britannia transports with troops to Calais. Taken in tandem, with the transports, voyaging from Portsmouth and Plymouth, an estimate of 10,000 troops under sail, bound for Ireland, would be on the conservative side. The ships parted company as they made their way through the channel.
        James Gibbs, master of the Sea Horse and Thomas Arman, master of the Lord Melville, both left correspondence describing their voyage. According to Gibbs, about 11am on the morning of 26 January, the Sea Horse weighed anchor, and sailed with light breezes from the N. N. W. and by about midnight was off Dungeness, a headland further along the coast of Kent on which a 115 ft. high lighthouse was built in 1792 by Samuel Wyatt. At about midnight, they spotted the Portland Lights to the N. E.[8]
      On Sunday, 28 January they passed Start Point, with the breeze coming from the N.N.E. They then altered course in the afternoon as they passed Lizard Point at 5 o’clock and at 11 o’clock  they passed the Longships Lighthouse, Lands’ End, 1 ½ nautical miles off. At midnight, it bore N.N.E., 8 miles away. From here they sailed into the Irish Sea and set a course for Cork.
     On the morning of 29 January, there was a fine strong breeze coming from the S.S.E., a favourable wind direction in which to sail to Cork. But at noon this was getting much stronger.  As Gibbs’s account states, the Sea Horse made landfall at Ballycotton Island at 4pm with the rising wind still coming from the S.S.E. From this time onwards, it was to be ‘a constant and awful struggle with the conflicting elements’. The mate, John Sullivan, a Cork man, well acquainted with the coast, then went up the forerigging to look at the land, but fell down on the forecastle, and broke both his legs and arms, and unable to speak, died in the arms of his wife, almost three hours later.[9]  (It has been stated that he may have been the only one on board that was well acquainted with the coast. However, this is highly unlikely, as transport vessels regularly shipped troops to and from Ireland via Cork and Waterford, the Sea Horse herself having been surveyed in Cork in 1813.) Gibbs then altered his course, as the gale grew, making westward for Kinsale Light House, intending to alter course and run along the land to the entrance to Cork Harbour once it was sighted. However not having not seen the light after sailing for two hours, doubts set in and he became unwilling to proceed any further, as the weather was so thick and hazy. With the most tremendous sea running, he decided to take in the top sails and hauled close to the wind, heading in a W.S.W. direction out to sea. According to Thomas Redding, a seaman on board, ‘In consequence of the affecting loss of his chief mate, Captain Gibbs was very greatly annoyed during the night, and appeared to have lost much of that self-command so essentially necessary to the safety of the vessel, passengers, and crew’.[10]
At 8pm, the ship got blown off course and spent most of the night on another heading of S.E., the wind coming from the S.S.W. which was now on their starboard bow. The tide was setting towards the land and with a large swell they were being pushed N.E. towards the lee shore, an unadvisable course of action. According to Redding, he spotted a ‘fogbank or the land’ at about 4 o’clock in the morning and reported it to the second mate, Wilson, who first derided the idea, but then called the Captain, ‘who had been sitting for some hours on the companion, apparently lost in a reverie’. They then laughed at his report.[11] They were still drifting in an easterly direction when at five in the morning, 30 January, they sighted Minehead which was inside them to leeward, wind still coming from the S.S.W., they then let a reef out of the topsails and set the mainsail-blowing very hard in order to help get away from the land, but the wind was so strong that about 10.30am, it broke the fore topmast and it went over the side. A seaman who was in the foretop had his back and thigh broken.
        They were still being blown in the direction of Waterford, when, about an hour later, just after the wreck of the fore topmast was cleared, the mainsail then split to ribbons. By this time, Gibbs had realised his mistake, and was desperate to get out at sea, away from the lee shore, but this was not possible with the damage to the masts and the ship not responding to the steering helm. The raging sea was sending them to the shore so fast, that even though they spotted the Hook Light House under the lee bow, they could not weather Brownstown Head. They took in all sail and anchored under the head in seven fathoms of water, using both anchors, they let out 300 fathoms of cable to try and hold the vessel. [12] The cables were leading straight out in front of her, turning her bow to the sea, and her stern towards the shore, as the waves continued breaking over them. At about 12am, the anchors dragged, as the sea bottom was probably just sand. The wind and sea were still increasing, with huge waves crashing over the ship from stem to stern (from the front to the back of the ship).[13]
      At 12.10pm her stern struck. They then cut away the mizzen and main masts; all the boats connected to the masts were now washed away. As the ship struck a second time, the rudder, which was, by now of little use, broke off and the sternpost was knocked in. Redding stated that about fifty soldiers had rushed into the quarter-boats, to try and save themselves. However, the boats were rigged to the mizzenmast which was being cut down and were about to go overboard. They were ordered to leave the boats, but refused to obey orders and were dashed into the sea and drowned.
      The sea continued to break immensely over the ship and about an hour later, she split in two by the main hatchway. All the people on board were clinging to different parts of the wreck. According to Gibbs, there was not the least disturbance among the women. Mrs Baird was trying to comfort her two daughters in the great cabin, while a Serjeant’s wife huddled between decks with her three children. The other women were heard pleading with their husbands to die with them, most of them uttering prayers. However, Redding paints a more realistic scene, with women screaming for their husbands and personal preservation coming to the foremost of almost everyone’s minds.
     After the ship broke in two, all but about 30 people that were left clinging to the forerigging were washed off. According to Gibbs, about 60 people reached the shore, but for the want of assistance only 4 officers, 25 soldiers, two of whom are died shortly afterwards, and two seamen and himself were saved.
Mr Hunt, of Tramore, and his man, Mr. Duckett, jun. and two countrymen, one named Kirwan, were the persons who contributed most to save the lives of the unfortunate people. To the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Hunt, in getting us up to the cottage at the Rabbit-burrow, and sending for spirits to his own house, and lighting large fires for our accommodation, we are principally indebted for our lives.[14]




[1] In 1816 Ramsgate was a busy port, 1496 vessels were registered as having entered the harbour in the previous year.
[2] Lloyd’s Registers, Underwriters, 1816.
[3] Ramsey’s Waterford Chronicle, 1 February 1816.
[4] Cork Advertiser, 1 February 1816.
[5] 62nd Foot 1815 & 1816 War Office Regimental Pay Lists, National Archives WO 12.
[6] Cork Mercantile Chronicle, 31 January 1816.
[7] Cork Advertiser, 1 February 1816.
[8] Waterford Mirror, 5 February 1816.
[9] Waterford Chronicle, 6 February 1816.
[10] James Acland, Enemy of Corporate Despots, Memoirs and Correspodences of a Ghost, Redding’s Reminiscences. No 1, copy online at https://enemyofcorporatedespots.wordpress.com/.
[11] James Acland, Enemy of Corporate Despots, Memoirs and Correspodences of a Ghost, Redding’s Reminiscences. No 1, copy online at https://enemyofcorporatedespots.wordpress.com/.
[12] Charts of the bay record the depth of water directly inside Brownstown Head as 42 ft. or 7 fathoms.
[13] Much of this chapter is based on Walter Phelan, Master SDPO’s interpretation of James Gibbs’s narrative. All errors are the author’s own.
[14] Waterford Mirror, 5 February 1816.

Saturday 14 November 2015

Freemans Journal 30 September 1828

Tramore is looked upon as the best bathing place on the south east coast of Ireland. Its contiguity to Waterford gives it great advantages; but its invaluable superiority over every other bathing place I have seen, consists of its strand, which, when the tide is full out, leaves a space of between three and four miles in length of clear and compact sand, which may be travelled over by any vehicle. Tramore bay is of considerable extent, but exceedingly dangerous.
To any vessel coming near it with a strong south-east wind it is fatal, of which the history of this little place furnishes a most melancholy instance. A few mornings since I took an early walk to explore a large amount of sand, the accumulation of ages, situate at the extremity of the beach. My attention was arrested by the frightful sight of a quantity of human bones strewn about me. These bleached emblems of mortality seen on a barren sand-bank, with the load roaring of the sea below, presented an appalling spectacle, and left the mind to a thousand conjectures of the cause which led to such a scene.

Doubting whether to attribute it to deadly contest with Smugglers, who once carried on a considerable traffic in this bay, many of whom might have been shot, and unceremoniously thrown under the surface of the sand, or to a wreck, on my return home I made inquiry, and was asked if I had never heard of the Sea Horse Transport, which I confess I never had. My informant then gave me a detail of that awful calamity. The Sea Horse Transport was bound from Liverpool for Cork, and had on board a large portion of the 2nd battalion of the 59th regiment. On the 30th January, 1816, it was driven into the Bay Tramore by a storm, and within a mile of the shore was wrecked in the presence of hundreds of spectators, who from the violence of the storm were unable to render any assistance. By this dreadful visitation perished 12 officers, 264 privates and non-commissioned officers, 15 sailors and 71 women and children! Only four officers and 26 men were saved. Most of the bodies were cast on the beach, and carelessly buried on the sand bank to which I have alluded, a little above high water mark. The sea, it is said has since made some incursion beyond its usual limits, and exhumed the bones of these brave men. The surviving officers erected a monument in the church yard to their companions in arms, who perished in this melancholy catastrophe. This regiment was one of the most distinguished in the service. It was engaged in the memorable battles of Corunna with Sir John Moore, Vittoria, St. Sebastian, Bidassoa, Bayonne, Waterloo, Cambray, and at the second surrender of Paris. How painful to witness, and how discreditable to the Corporate Body of Waterford to allow, the bones of those to whom their country owed so much to remain so long neglected and disregarded!

Thursday 12 November 2015

Waterford Mirror, 3 February 1816.

Within memory, so melancholy a shipwreck had not happened on this coast as which occurred on Tuesday at Tramore. The Seahorse Transport, James Gibbs, Master, a ship of 350 tons, from Ramsgate for Cork, with a large part of the 59th Regiment on board, found herself on this morning locked between the heads of Tramore Bay, the wind blowing strong from S. S. E.. Her mizzen mast was swept away, and she worked hard to weather Brownstown Head, with a view of making the harbour. In vain; about one o’clock nearly at low water, when assistance was particularly impractical, she struck nearly at the middle of that extensive strand, and in a few minutes, went to pieces. From that moment, Tramore Strand, the delight of summer visitors, presented a calamitous picture of mortality.
Notwithstanding the humanity and activity of John Walsh Esq, Coast Surveyor, of Michael Kennedy, Esq, agent to the Underwriters, and of several others, few comparatively have been saved of the great number that were on board.
The crew consisted, we believe, of the Captain, the mate, and fourteen hands; of these, the captain and two seamen have been saved. Of the 59th Regiment, we understand that the Seahorse contained 16 Officers, 297 non-commissioned officers and privates, with about 30 women and 40 children. We fear that scarcely more than four Officers, one Sergeant, one drummer, and nineteen privates have been saved. Several bodies have been washed ashore, and buried at Drumcannon. We believe the following is an accurate list of the Officers lost and saved: - SAVED: Lieuts. Cowper, McPhearson, and Hartford; Ensign Seward.
LOST:- Major Douglas; Capt. McGregor; Surgeon Hagan; Assistant Surgeon Lambe; Lieutenants Dent, (Adjutant), Veale, Geddies, Scott, and Gillespie; Ensigns Ross, and Hill; Quarter Master Baird; and Mr Allen, of the Navy (Purser).
Another instance of shipwreck, but far less disastrous, occurred upon Tramore Strand, on Wednesday, near the bathing place. About noon the brig, Apollonia, of Caernarvon, J. Parry, Master, bound from London to Cork with a general cargo, was stranded, and in a short time, went to pieces- crew saved. A great part of the vessel saved, and more expected, but all in rather a perishable condition.
On Wednesday night, another brig was embayed here, but had the good fortune to weather the heads.
We have received the following letters from friends, to whom we beg to return our warmest thanks;-
Tramore, Jan 31st, 1816.
Yesterday presented a melancholy sight near this- a transport had been seen for a considerable time approaching the harbour, and at length having crossed it to anchor near the shore within the opposite land, her distressed and dangerous situation being evident, crowds gathered from Tramore and the adjoining country on the beach. After a short period, her anchors having dragged, she drifted to the beach and having struck in a tremendous surf- unspeakable horror soon followed. The ship been soon broken by the dreadful waves that assailed her, the shore became scattered with dead bodies, a few struggling survivors, planks, cordage and every species of wreck. Much exertion was made by several spirited individuals, but particularly by Mr Hunt of Tramore, who was instrumental in saving many. The severity of the day and the disadvantage of an ebb instead of a flood tide added greatly to the calamity. Benumbed with cold and overwhelmed by criminal waves, the poor sufferers, fell speedy victims to their deplorable fate; a great number of women and children were on board- not one escaped. About half the 59th Regiment had embarked in this transport at Deal, their number three hundred and upwards and of them sixteen were Officers. About 25 (including four officers) have been saved. The Regiment was coming from France, and had shared in the glories of Waterloo. Brave men, companions in arms, and dear friends stood on the deck-looked at each other- each expected his own fate and hoped for his friend’s safety- wave after wave thundered. Major Douglas, Captains, Lieutenants, whose names I have not yet learned, were swept away, never to meet their friends and social home, never to battle another time, the vain spirit of France. Women embraced their husbands, bade them farewell and died calmly. Their heroism softened the pangs of men who saw- whose brave hearts bled and could not relieve them! Children took leave of their parents, and rising above the weakness of their age wept not. The Quarter Master’s Lady behaved with great firmness- remained with her children in the cabin- said to an Officer “It is the will of Heaven,” and was seen no more. The wife of a private said “Will you die with me and your child? But you may escape and this may be of use,” and gave him her pocket with a sum of money and she took out her earrings and put them in it. Her self and child were lost. The survivor, more wretched than they, lives to tell the tale, as tears mask his manly face. The Captain of the Transport was saved; the mate fell from the mast early in the day, and was nearly killed and quite disabled. This probably occasioned the deplorable loss as he was well acquainted with the coast. Lieut. Allen, a young officer of the navy, and of great merit, (coming to Ireland), directed the ship for some time with boldness and skill; he too was swept away. Above 350 persons have perished. A great quantity of valuable things is lost, and the vessel shattered into 1000 fragments, strews two or three miles of the coast. Lieuts  MacPhearson, Hartford and Cowper and Ensign Seward, survive of the Officers, all much bruised and ill, but Mr Cowper the most severely; he now lies extremely ill at Tramore. The night of the calamity a cottager and his wife, near the fatal spot, showed every tenderness to the miserable victims. But for their humble and lonely dwelling, so many had not now lived to tell this tale. To the honour of Irish character they gave their only bed to two wounded and benumbed Officers, and lodged and comforted all the privates that were too ill to move during the night. Some reward is surely due from persons in authority to this conduct. The man’s name is Dunn. Dead bodies are now hourly throwing in.

February 1.
This day one dead officer has been cast on shore; his name is Dent. Thirty two bodies were yesterday buried in one grave, men women and children. My pen recoils- my heart trembles as I write! Brave warriors! Companions of Wellington! And liberators of the world! Was this your hoped return? Your laurels waved in triumph as you left France!- now thet wither on the lonely shore. How many an affectionate heart throbs- how many an eye fills at the hope of your return! But sorrow shall fill the warriors home and memory long bewail the horrors of the evening of the 30th January 1816!  What must the immortal Wellington feel at hearing of this fatal loss? He whose glories brightened, as the tears fell for the heroes who fell around him? I should hope that a monument may be erected for the Officers who have perished. The affecting record may simply record their deaths, and their return from France after a war so gloriously ended. I should hope, pensions to the privates, or some handsome reward, and promotion to the surviving Officers may follow. I am truly sorry to add, that another vessel was wrecked here yesterday. She was a brig with a cargo of tea, &c, &c. The crew were saved. I am Sir&co, &c
T.
From Another
Tramore, Feb. 1, 1816.
The brig which was wrecked here last night was the Apollonia, of Caernarvon, John Parry, Master, from London for Cork, with a general cargo of teas,liops, &c. &c. The vessel has gone to pieces, and the crew (seven in number), were fortunately saved by the extraordinary exertions at the risk of their lives, of the Gentlemen at foot mentioned.
I am sir, yours truly, K
Cornelius henry Bolton, Samuel Davis, Edward Courtenay, William M Ardagh, Richard Sargent, Matthew Turner, Esqrs., Rev Mr Frazer, &c, &c, &c.
Collector Wallace was on the spot and gave every assistance; he acted with the greatest humanity towards the unfortunate captain and crew.

The following melancholy intelligence from Kinsale has appeared in the Cork papers:-
On Tuesday evening last, two vessels were observed to be embayed between the Old Head of Kinsale and the Seven Heads, the wind blowing a gale from the S. E. they used every exertion and adopted every expedient, to weather the old Head, in vain; the peril of their situation increased every moment, and, towards evening, an account was brought to Kinsale, that the ship would, in a short time, be on shore, and that the brig had dropped her anchors, in the hope of riding out the gale. On the receipt of this distressing communication, Collector Meade, with a decision and promptness equally creditable to him as a public officer and a man of humanity, ordered an Officer’s party of the Limerick Militia, under the direction of Mr. Pratt, the Port Surveyor, to the Old Head, to afford every assistance and protection in their power to those unfortunate vessels. Mr. Spifler Newman, a respectable Gentleman of Kinsale, who holds a Revenue situation, generously volunteered his services, notwithstanding that he laboured under indisposition and, although the scene of the apprehended calamity was altogether out of his district, and the range of his official duty, he obeyed the call of humanity, and accompanied Mr. Pratt and the military to the Old head.
They had to cross the Ferry of Kinsale, and then march 5 or 6 miles through bye roads, to get to their destination, when they arrived there, they found that the ship had been driven ashore among the rocks- that, shortly after she struck, her boat had been launched and manned with five men- that two Officers and two Ladies, supposed to be their wives, an Assistant Surgeon, a Sergeant, his wife and child, had got into her, in the hope of gaining the shore- that, in a few minutes, she was struck by a wave and swamped; and, melancholy to relate, every soul perished, with the exception of one of the seamen, who reached the land scarcely alive. In a short time, the body of one of the Ladies was washed on shore, and although her name was sufficiently indicated by some papers found in her pockets, we forbear to mention it for the present, from obvious motives of caution, and the possibility of mistake. All the rest of the people of the ship remained in her; at low water, in the course of the night, she was left nearly dry; and at about one or two o’clock they succeeded, under Divine providence in getting safely to land, to the number of about 400 souls.
The ship was we understand a Transport, called the Lord Melville, with a detachment of the 59th and 62th Regts on board, bound for Cork. At the commencement of the night, the brig being at anchor, and farther off shore, had to all appearance much greater chance of escape than the ship.- she was distinctly seen by the Revenue officers and military party, with a light at her top mast till after midnight. The light and vessel then disappeared altogether. It still blew a tremendous gale of wind right on the shore, the sea ran mountains high, the rain poured down in torrents, and the night was pitch dark.
Under these circumstances, the most gloomy apprehensions for the fate of the brig were entertained by the party from Kinsale. When the morning dawned, these apprehensions seemed but too well grounded, as the brig had disappeared altogether. However, after a diligent search for some time along the shore, the fragments of her were discovered among the rocks, which lie between the two strands of Garrett’s Town, and where she had been driven after parting her anchors in the night. Upon approaching the wreck, a most heartrending scene of misery, desolation and death, presented itself to the view. The vessel seemed to be a confused mass of timber, planks and boards, broken to pieces, and intermixed with piles of dead bodies, men, women, and children!
 Near to the wreck was situated a rock, somewhat elevated above the surface of the water, and upon this were seen about eighty or ninety poor human creature who had scrambled to it from the vessel, and were still alive. The people from the shore communicated to them as well as they could, that their only chance of safety was in remaining where they were until low water; but, either through impatience of the misery of their situation, or from the impulse of despair, near 30 of them plunged into the sea, and endeavoured to gain the shore, but in vain, as most of them perished in the attempt. About 50 remained on the rock until low water, and were all saved. We have not yet been able to learn the name of the brig; she was a transport, and had a detachment of the 82nd on board, bound for Cork.
We have had different accounts of the number of the detachment; the Kinsale accounts make it very considerable, and other accounts, which deserve some consideration, being from persons connected with the regiment, making it much less.- For the present, while there is a possibility of mistake, we shall abstain from mentioning the particulars of either estimate. Suffice to say, that only fifty or sixty escaped from the brig. We have heard the name of one of the Officers of the 82nd who was saved- we announce it with great pleasure, for the relief of his family and friends, Lieut. Starkey. Yesterday morning the Sovereign of Kinsale Governor Browne and Collector Meade were most actively employed in procuring clothing provisions and medical assistance for the poor surviving sufferers. As soon as they made the necessary arrangements, they repaired in person to the wrecks, and from the cordial co-operation which they received from the inhabitants of the town, of all ranks and description, they have no doubt been enabled to afford the most timely and effectual relief. The brig has gone to pieces, and it was imagined, that the ship would share the same fate in the course of last night.[1]




[1] Waterford Mirror 3 February 1816.