His Majesty's Ship Minotaur, of 74 guns, Captain John Barrett, was
ordered by Admiral Sir James Saumarez to protect the last Baltic
fleet, in the year 1810.
After seeing the convoy through the Belt, the ship sailed from
Gottenburg about the 15th December, and, with a strong breeze from the
east, shaped her course alone for the Downs.
At eight o'clock, in the evening of the 22nd, Lieutenant Robert Snell
took charge of the watch; the wind was then blowing hard from the
south-east, the weather thick and hazy, and the ship, under
close-reefed topsails, and courses, was going at the rate of four
knots an hour.
At nine o'clock, the captain gave orders that soundings should be
taken every hour, under the immediate direction of the pilot of the
watch. At midnight, the pilot desired that the vessel might be put on
the other tack, and all hands were instantly turned up to carry out
his directions, and Lieutenant Snell was in the act of informing the
captain of what was going on, when the ship struck.
The helm was ordered to be put up, but the first shock had carried
away the tiller; fruitless attempts were then made to back the ship
off, but she had struck with such force upon the sand that it was
impossible to move her. The carpenter now reported fifteen feet water
in the hold; and it increased so rapidly that in a few minutes it rose
above the orlop deck. The officers and the whole of the ship's company
were assembled upon deck, and the universal question passed from mouth
to mouth--'On what coast have we struck?'
The pilot of the watch maintained that they were on some shoal in the
English coast; the other pilot, however, was of opinion that they were
upon the North Haacks, and this proved to be actually the case.
For a few minutes after the ship first struck there was some degree of
confusion on board; but this soon subsided; order and tranquillity
were restored, and the men all exerted themselves to the utmost,
although she struck the ground so heavily, it was almost impossible
for them to keep their feet.
The masts were cut away, and other means taken to lighten the ship;
and guns were fired as signals of distress, but no aid was afforded
to them during that long and dismal night. The darkness was so
intense, it was impossible to see beyond a few yards, and they could
only judge of their proximity to land, by the sullen roar of the
breakers as they dashed upon the shore. In this state of uncertainty
and dread, the night passed away; and daylight at last discovered to
the crew of the Minotaur the horrors of their situation. The ship was
firmly imbedded in sand, and had gradually sunk till the water covered
the forecastle. All the boats excepting the launch and two yauls were
destroyed, either by the falling of the masts, or the waves breaking
over them.
At eight o'clock, A.M., the Minotaur parted amidships, and the sea
made a clear breach over her. The gunner, seeing that she could not
hold together much longer, volunteered to go off in the yard, and
endeavour to obtain assistance from the shore. Captain Barrett at
first refused the offer, as he thought it impossible the boat could
live in such a sea; but upon further consideration, he gave his
consent; and the gunner, with thirty-one of the crew, succeeded in
launching the yaul, and getting clear of the wreck.
The ship now presented a most distressing scene--portions of her
timbers and spars were floating about in all directions, with casks of
spirits and provisions which had been washed up from the hold. Crowded
together on the poop and the quarter-deck were officers and men
watching with eager anxiety the progress of the boat. After two hours
of breathless suspense they saw her reach the shore. Their comrades'
success was hailed with joy by the shipwrecked crew as a happy omen
for themselves--it inspired them with hope and confidence, and some of
them immediately attempted to lift the launch into the sea. They
fortunately succeeded in getting her afloat, and numbers then rushed
to get into her, amongst whom was Lieutenant Snell. He failed in his
first attempt, and then swam to the foretop, near which he knew the
launch must pass, to enable her to clear the wreck. He watched his
opportunity, and when the boat approached, jumped into the sea, and
was taken on board.
In the course of an hour, the launch gained the shore, where, instead
of receiving the assistance they expected, and the kindness their
unfortunate circumstances demanded, the crew were met by a party of
French soldiers, and immediately made prisoners. In vain, they
implored the Dutch officers, who were also on the beach, to send boats
to the aid of their unhappy comrades on the wreck, their earnest
entreaties were met by a cold refusal.
During the morning, Captain Barrett, and about a hundred men,
attempted to reach the shore in the second yaul, but she was swamped
and all were lost. At two o'clock in the afternoon, the after-part of
the ship turned bottom up, and the remainder of the crew perished.
The fate of Lieutenant Salsford was distinguished by a singular
circumstance. A large tame wolf, caught at Aspro, and brought up from
a cub by the ship's company, and exceedingly docile, continued to the
last an object of general solicitude. Sensible of its danger, its
howls were peculiarly distressing. It had always been a particular
favourite of the lieutenant, who was also greatly attached to the
animal, and through the whole of their sufferings kept close to his
master. On the breaking up of the ship both got upon the mast. At
times they were washed off, but by each other's assistance regained
it. The lieutenant at last, became exhausted by continual exertions,
and benumbed, with cold. The wolf was equally fatigued, and both held
occasionally by the other to retain his situation. When within a short
distance of the land, Lieutenant Salsford, affected by the attachment
of the animal, and totally unable any longer to support himself,
turned towards him from the mast, the beast clapped his fore paws
round his neck, while the lieutenant clasped him in his arms, and they
sank together.[13]
Such was the fate of the Minotaur, her captain, and four hundred of
her crew. There is not the slightest doubt but that, had the Dutch
sent assistance, the greater part of the ship's company would have
been saved; and it would appear by the following extract from a
letter, written on the subject by Lieutenant Snell, that the risk
attending such a humane attempt, on the part of the Dutch, would not
have been great. Lieutenant Snell says:--
'The launch which had brought on shore eighty-five men, was of the
smallest description of 74 launches, with one gunwale entirely broken
in, and without a rudder. This will better prove than anything I can
say how easy it would have been for the Dutch admiral in the Texel to
have saved, or to have shown some wish to have saved, the remaining
part of the crew.'
On the other hand, we have the report from the chief officer of the
marine district of the North coast, addressed to the Minister of
Marine, in which he states, that 'Captain Musquetie, commander in the
Texel Roads, sent, at daylight on the 23rd, two boats to reconnoitre
the Minotaur, but the wind and sea prevented them approaching the
vessel.'
It is to be hoped, for the honour of the Dutch officers, that they
_did_ really put out to the relief of the Minotaur, and that they
considered the attempt an impossibility, which a British sailor deemed
one of little risk. It is evident that there must have been
considerable danger for boats, from the fact of the second yaul being
lost, and Captain Barrett's hesitation before he allowed the gunner to
leave the ship in the first yaul; and in charity we must give the
Dutch the benefit of this evidence. At the same time, we have the
equally conclusive testimony of the safe landing of two boats from the
Minotaur, that it was not 'impossible' for even a somewhat crazy boat
to live on such a sea. At daylight, on the 24th, the survivors of the
Minotaur's crew were marched off as prisoners to Valenciennes. From
which place, the gunner, Mr. Bones, contrived to make his escape on
the 3rd of February. After suffering the greatest privations,
concealing himself in barns and stables by day, and travelling by
night, on the 17th of March he got on board a smuggling lugger, about
a mile from Ostend, the Master of which agreed to land him in England
for the sum of £50.
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