We have next to relate the still more tragical fate of the Hero, of 74
guns. This vessel was lost on the Northern Haaks, under nearly the
same circumstances as the Minotaur in the preceding year, but with
more fatal results, as every soul on board perished.
The following particulars are derived from the accounts taken from the
evidence of Captain Fanshawe, of the Grasshopper, and from the
journals of the day.
The Grasshopper sailed from Wingo Sound on the 18th of December,
1811, in company with the Hero, Egeria, and Prince William, and a
convoy of about 120 merchantmen. The weather, at the time they
commenced their voyage, was stormy and tempestuous. The Egeria and
Prince William parted company on the 20th, and on the 23rd the
Grasshopper was left in company with the Hero, and about eighteen
merchantmen.
At about half-past eleven o'clock, Captain Newman, of the Hero, made
signal to the Grasshopper to come within hail; conceiving that they
were on the Silver Pitts, he directed the course to be altered to the
south-west, which was accordingly done. They continued their course
until ten o'clock at night, when the signal was made to alter it two
points to port.
The Grasshopper was at this time going at the rate of nine knots an
hour; four of the convoy had been kept in view up to this period, but
were soon lost sight of in the heavy squall of snow and sleet. At
half-past three o'clock all hands were turned up, when the ship being
in broken water, she struck with great violence, and suddenly fell
into three fathoms water. The best bower was let go, and she was
brought to an anchor. In a few minutes the ship struck again, and
continued to do so as long as she remained in that position.
The crew of the Grasshopper had now their attention called to the
situation of the Hero. It was first supposed that she was at anchor,
although she fired several guns, and burnt blue lights, which in about
half-an-hour ceased. At daylight it was discovered that both the ships
were inside the Northern Haaks, about five or six miles from the Texel
Island. About a mile from the Grasshopper was the Hero--a complete
wreck--lying on her starboard broadside. The ship's company were all
crowded together upon the poop and forecastle; the sea making clean
breaches over her. An attempt was made by the crew of the Grasshopper
to reach the Hero, but the surf ran so high that it prevented all
communication, and they were under the imperious necessity of seeing
their comrades perish, without the slightest possibility of being able
to render them assistance.
The Hero had hoisted a flag of truce, and fired a gun: in a short time
these signals of distress were answered, by several vessels putting
out from the Texel to her relief; but owing to the flood-tide, and the
strong gale of wind then blowing, the boats were unable to get nearer
than three miles.
Notwithstanding that those on board the Grasshopper were themselves in
a most precarious position, from the repeated shocks the ship had
sustained by striking against the ground, their attention was
completely diverted from themselves, in their anxiety for the fate of
the Hero. The waves burst with relentless fury over the doomed vessel,
every moment snatching a victim from the now almost deserted decks.
As the night was approaching, and the weather still continued
boisterous, Captain Fanshawe, having taken the opinion of the
officers, judged that there was no other alternative for saving the
lives of his crew than by surrendering to the enemy. At four o'clock
the cable was cut, and they made sail for the Helder Point, where they
surrendered to the Dutch Vice-Admiral, De Wintner.
The Hero went to pieces during the night: in the morning not a vestige
of her was to be seen. Every exertion was made by the Dutch squadron
to save the crew, but the weather was so stormy, that all their
efforts proved abortive, and thus every soul on board perished.
In the year 1798, Captain Newman distinguished himself by a most
gallant action which he fought off the coast of Ireland. He was then
in command of the Mermaid, 32-gun frigate, and was cruising in
consort with the Revolutionnaire, of 38 guns, Captain Twysden, and the
Kangaroo, gun-brig, commanded by Captain Brace. On the 15th October,
when near Black Cod Bay, two very large French frigates were seen and
pursued, but they were lost sight of during the night. The next
morning, however, the Mermaid and Kangaroo made out one of the
Frenchmen, and the Kangaroo came up with her the same afternoon, but
was speedily disabled by the heavy fire of her opponent, and compelled
to drop astern. The Mermaid kept on in chase, and engaged the French
vessel, which proved to be the Loire, 46-gun frigate, on the morning
of the 17th October. Early in the action the French attempted to
board, but were frustrated by the skilful handling of the Mermaid,
which enabled her to close within pistol-shot of the Loire, when the
latter's foretopmast was soon shot away, and the fire from her great
guns nearly silenced, though a continuous storm of musketry was still
kept up from her decks. Upon attempting to rake her opponent, the
Mermaid's mizenmast unfortunately went by the board, so that she fell
off, and the maintop-mast almost instantly followed. By this time the
rigging of the English frigate was completely cut to pieces, and her
boats destroyed; she was also making a great deal of water, having
received several shots between wind and water. In this crippled
condition, Captain Newman had no other alternative but to discontinue
the action. This was done without any attempt on the part of the Loire
to renew the engagement, the French being no doubt only too glad to
get rid of her spirited antagonist, though she was only half the size
of their own vessel.
On the following day the Loire fell in with the Anson and Kangaroo,
and surrendered to the British flag. Subsequently Captain Newman was
appointed to the Loire, having the proud satisfaction of commanding
the vessel in whose capture he had so gallantly assisted.
In 1808, our officer received the command of the unfortunate Hero,
which ship, in 1810, formed part of the squadron under Sir James
Saumarez, employed for the protection of commerce in the North Sea.
Here he continued in the unpleasant duty of convoying merchant vessels
backwards and forwards from Dar's Head, the south entrance of the
Great Belt, to Sproe Island. On the 25th of September, Captain Newman,
in company with the Mars, 74, arrived off Yarmouth, having in charge
between five and six hundred merchantmen, the largest convoy that had
ever sailed from the Baltic. He again returned to his former station
in March, 1811, where he remained until the latter end of the year,
when his ship was selected, with others, to convoy the homeward-bound
fleet. On this occasion, he appears to have had sad misgivings as to
the prudence of sending ships home at so late a period of the year,
through the dangerous navigation of the northern seas. On the day
previous to the sailing of the squadron from Wingo Sound, he observed,
'I cannot help thinking that we have been detained too long, and it is
well if some of us do not share the fate of the Minotaur.'[14] His
words were but too prophetic; and, ere long, he and two thousand of
our brave defenders perished on a foreign strand.