'In the month of November, 1804,' writes Brenton, in his _Naval
History_, 'the severity of blockading the Ports of the Texel was
practically experienced in the loss of the Romney, of fifty guns,
commanded by Captain the Hon. John Colville.'
The Romney sailed from Yarmouth on the 18th of November, under orders
to join Rear-Admiral Russel, off the Texel; but on the 19th she went
aground on the south-west part of the sand-bank off the Haaks. Regular
soundings had been made during the run from Yarmouth; and a few
minutes before the ship struck, the pilots were confident they were on
the edge of the Broad Fourteens. They then sounded, and the pilots
proposed standing in under double-reefed topsails, and foretopmast
stay-sail, with the wind S.S.W., until they should be in ten or eleven
fathoms. To this Captain Colville objected, as from the unsettled
appearance of the weather, and the thickness of the fog, he deemed it
would be imprudent to approach the shore. They were accordingly in the
act of wearing, when they perceived, through the fog, a large ship
bearing east by north. They stood towards her to make her out more
plainly, and in four or five minutes they discovered that she was a
large merchant vessel on shore.[7] Upon this, the pilots were anxious
to haul off on the larboard tack; but before the ship could be brought
to the wind, she struck. The wind was increasing, the fog very great,
and a heavy sea rolling in. In spite of every exertion, the water
gained upon the vessel so fast, that all hope of saving her was soon
at an end; and had she been in deep water, she must have sunk
immediately. The pilots supposed that the Romney would be dry at low
water, the topmasts were therefore struck, and every preparation made
to shore her up.
The captain having done all in his power to save his ship, next turned
his attention to the preservation of his officers and men, determined
to use every possible means for their safety. Minute guns were fired,
in the hope that they might attract the notice of some of our
cruisers, and procure assistance.
At this time it blew a gale from the south-west, and the sea ran so
high, as to endanger the boats which were lowered in order to lighten
the ship.
The two cutters were sent to a galliot and a schuyt, that were in
sight near the land, to ask for help, but they failed in obtaining it;
and one of them in returning to the Romney was upset in the breakers,
and a master's mate with her crew perished. Lieutenant Baker, who
commanded the other cutter, finding it impossible to reach the ship
again, bore up to the Texel, in hopes of being more successful in
obtaining assistance there than he had been with the schuyt.
On board the ship, in the meantime, the minute guns were fired, and
officers and men looked anxiously for a responsive signal that would
tell them of approaching succour--but they waited in vain; no help was
at hand. The people were therefore set to work to make rafts, and
three were soon finished. Between two and three o'clock in the
afternoon the ship struck again, with such violence, that the rudder
broke away, and she seemed likely to go to pieces immediately. The
captain seized the first moment of the weather-tide slacking to order
the masts to be cut away, which was promptly done, and fortunately
without causing any injury in their fall. After this, the ship became
more easy, although the sea still made a clean breach over her.
Captain Colville saw that the slightest alteration in her position
would be attended with imminent danger, and he therefore ordered the
bower anchors to be let go--her head then swung to the wind, and this
enabled her to settle gradually on the sand, where she lay
comparatively easy. Darkness was fast gathering around, and the hearts
of the crew were becoming dreary and hopeless.
Nor sail nor shore appeared in sight,
Nought but the heavy sea and coming night.
When the tide flowed, no part of the ship below the quarter-deck was
accessible. To add to the misery of their situation, out of the four
bags of bread which had been put for safety into the cabin, one only
could be got upon deck, and that one was so soaked in salt water, that
the bread could scarcely be eaten. This, with two cheeses, and a few
gallons of wine, composed the whole of their stock of provisions, and
during the day they had had no leisure to take refreshment of any
kind.
Such was the condition of the crew of the Romney, who passed that
awful night on the quarter-deck, the starboard side of which was under
water at high tide. The wind blew in violent gusts; sleet and rain
were falling, and the sea dashed over the vessel every instant.
Although the men were shivering with cold and hunger, not a murmur
escaped their lips, not a whisper of complaint; but they patiently
awaited the break of day. At length the morning dawned, and with it
hope dawned upon the hearts of those patient sufferers, for the wind
and the waves subsided, the clouds gradually dispersed, and the sun
shone forth with glorious and invigorating light and warmth.
All eyes were turned to the offing, but still no assistance appeared.
Captain Colville then resolved to hoist the white flag on the stump of
the mizen mast, in hopes that it might be seen from the shore, and
that he might preserve the lives of his crew by surrendering to the
enemy.
This step was necessary, as it was the only means of rescue that
remained to them. The barge had been swamped along side, soon after
the masts were cut away, and three of the crew had been drowned. The
launch, also, which was lying to leeward, had parted from her grapnel,
and had been obliged to bear up for the Texel.
At 11 o'clock A.M., Captain Colville asked the carpenter if he thought
they could remain another night upon the wreck: the carpenter assured
him that he considered it almost impossible to do so, and that the
attempt would be attended with the greatest risk to all on board. The
ship had already parted amidships, the main beam and several others
being broken.
Five rafts had been carefully instructed, each fitted with a mast and
sail; and at the earnest entreaty of the crew, Captain Colville, on
hearing the carpenter's report, allowed a part of the men to leave the
wreck on these rafts.
About noon, as the fifth and last raft was about to leave the ship,
seven boats (one bearing a flag of truce) were seen coming towards
them from the shore. The captain ordered the people to throw the
quarter-deck guns, and all the arms and warlike stores overboard,
which they did.
When the boats arrived alongside, an officer hailed the wreck, and
said that if Captain Colville was willing to secure the preservation
of his officers and crew, by surrendering as prisoners of war, the
whole company should be conducted in safety to the Helder. Captain
Colville felt himself obliged to submit to the imperious dictates of
necessity, and he accordingly accepted the proffered conditions, and
surrendered himself to the Dutch, with all the ship's company that
remained on the wreck.
Before nightfall they were all landed. Only those who have been placed
in similar circumstances can judge of the feelings of men so rescued
from the awful contemplation of immediate and certain death. How happy
now did they feel in occupying a position, which two days before they
would have shrunk from with horror, and have shed their life's blood
to avoid. But 'there is no virtue like necessity,'
All places that the eye of heaven visits,
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
RICHARD II.
And the Romney's company were wise enough to rejoice, under the
circumstances of their hard case, in finding themselves safely landed
in an enemy's country as prisoners of war.
Nine seamen had been drowned; thirteen others, who had left the wreck
upon a raft of timber, were afterwards picked up and taken on board
the Eagle; the others who had been saved by the boats and rafts joined
Captain Colville at the Helder. The following extracts from Captain
Colville's dispatches show the high estimation in which he held the
services of his officers and crew:--'That every possible exertion was
made to lessen the calamity, after having struck, I trust will appear
from the minutes.' ... 'Under the uneasiness of mind which the loss of
the ship I had the honour to command, naturally occasioned, I feel
some alleviation in reflecting upon the zealous, active, and orderly
conduct of my officers and crew in circumstances the most trying, and
under which they endured the severest hardships with cheerfulness,
and in perfect reliance on Divine Providence, whose interposition in
our behalf was strongly evident.'
Nothing could exceed the kindness and consideration shown by the Dutch
admiral towards the crew of the Romney. Captain Colville, in a letter
addressed to the Secretary of the Admiralty, does ample justice to a
generous foe:--
'We have experienced,' he says, 'from the Dutch Admiral Kirkhurt,
every attention that our distressed situation made so necessary, and
which his disposition seems incapable of withholding, even from an
enemy. But the wants of my fellow-sufferers are great, for not an
article of clothing or anything else was saved by any one from the
general wreck. I hope the Dutch government will be disposed to
alleviate, in some degree, their wants,--in clothing, particularly.
And I have solicited the assistance of Rear-Admiral Russel in
obtaining these necessaries.' ... 'I have reason to believe we shall
be sent to Amsterdam, until exchanged.'
Subsequently, the Dutch admiral, with noble generosity, sent Captain
Colville, with eight of his officers, to Rear-Admiral Russel. It is
always delightful to record such traits of magnanimity and kindness,
and we feel that British sailors can well afford to do honour to those
virtues in others, for which they have ever been so distinguished
themselves.
Admiral Russel handsomely acknowledged his obligation to the Dutch
government in the following letter to Admiral Kirkhurt:--
H.B.M. Ship Eagle, Dec. 2, 1804.
'Sir--I have this moment received your flag of truce, conveying
to me the Honourable Captain Colville, late of his Majesty's
ship, the Romney, (wrecked upon your coast,) with eight of his
officers, whom you have first humanely saved from impending
destruction, and whom your government, with its ancient
magnanimity, has released and restored to their country and
their friends, on their _parole d'honneur_. They are all, Sir,
most sensibly affected with heartfelt gratitude to the Batavian
government for their emancipation from captivity; to Admiral
Kirkhurt for their preservation from the jaws of death, and to
all the Dutch officers and inhabitants of the Texel, for their
kindness and most humane attention.
'This, Sir, is nobly alleviating the rigours of war, as the
Christian heroes of your country and mine were wont to do in
these seas, before a considerable portion of European intellect
was corrupted by false philosophy. Captain Colville will
communicate to the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of
the Admiralty, your proposal for an exchange of prisoners.
Accept my sincere thanks, and the assurance that I am, &c. &c.
'(Signed) T.M. RUSSEL.'
On the 31st of December, Captain Colville, the officers and ship's
company of H.M. (late) ship Romney were tried by a court-martial on
board the Africaine at Sheerness, for the loss of their ship off the
Tezel on the 19th of November.
It appeared to the court, that the loss of the ship had been
occasioned by the thickness of the fog and the ignorance of the
pilots; that the utmost exertions had been used by the captain,
officers, and crew, to save the vessel after she struck, and to
prevent the ship's company becoming prisoners of war. The sentence of
the court was to this effect: that the captain, officers and crew were
fully acquitted of all blame, but that the pilots should forfeit all
their pay, and be rendered henceforth incapable of taking charge of
any of his Majesty's ships or vessels of war, and that they should be
imprisoned in the Marshalsea--one for the space of twelve, and the
other, of six months.
In 1805, Captain Colville was appointed to the Sea Fencibles, at
Margate. In 1807, he obtained the command of L'Hercule, a 74-gun ship,
on the coast of Portugal, and subsequently commanded the Queen on the
North Sea Station.
He succeeded to his title (Lord Colville) on the death of his father
in 1811, and was advanced to the rank of rear-admiral in 1819. On the
10th of November, 1821, he hoisted his flag on board the Semiramis, as
commander-in-chief on the Irish station. Lord Colville died an Admiral
of the White, in 1849.
We are aware that the foregoing narrative may appear deficient in
novel and striking incidents, but we have introduced it for the sake
of exhibiting some of the best and noblest attributes of the
true-hearted sailor--courage, patience, and perfect obedience under
the most trying circumstances, and generous kindness towards an
unfortunate enemy. It is well to think of these things, and the more
we read of the details of naval life--its sufferings, dangers, and
trials, the more fully shall we be persuaded that _true_ courage is
ever generous and unselfish. In the words of the quaint old song--
Says the captain, says he, (I shall never forget it,)
'If of courage you'd know, lads, the true from the sham,
Tis a furious lion in battle, so let it,
But, duty appeased, 'tis in mercy a lamb.'
That my friend, Jack or Tom, I should rescue from danger,
Or lay down my life for each lad in the mess,
Is nothing at all,--'tis the poor wounded stranger,
And the poorer the more I shall succour distress:
In me let the foe feel the paw of the lion,
But, the battle once ended, the heart of a lamb.