In the March edition of the Journal (No. 79) I wrote about my ancestor who became known as “The Baker of Great Bardfield”. From my paternal grandmother’s family comes another tale of conflict – this time on the high seas.
First, some historical context. Denmark and Norway tried to remain neutral in the early 19th century struggles between France and the Britain but the British were concerned that the very considerable Danish fleet might enter the Napoleonic war on the side of the French and so decided on a pre-emptive strike. The Second Battle of Copenhagen took place on August 16th 1807 when almost the entire Danish-Norwegian fleet of 43 ships was captured. In the following years the Britain imposed a blockade on supply lines between Norway, Denmark and the rest of the world causing severe economic damage to both Scandinavian countries. What was left of the Danish-Norwegian fleet spent much of its time trying to break the blockade by harassing the British ships sent to enforce it. In July 1812 the British decide to destroy the remaining Danish-Norwegian fleet and so end the threat it posed. A British detachment consisting of one ship of the line and 3 brigs was sent under the command of “Mad Jim” Steward to track down and destroy the remaining frigate and 3 brigs of the Danish-Norwegian fleet. The Battle of Lyngor took place on July 6th 1812 and the small Danish-Norwegian fleet was captured or sunk marking the end of the involvement of Denmark and Norway in the Napoleonic Wars. Now read on.
Richard Spear, then holding the rank of Lieutenant, served on board the 74 gun Conqueror at the Battle of Trafalgar (October 21st 1805) under Captain Sir Israel Pellew. Many ships of the vanquished French/Spanish fleet were captured and after the battle Richard Spear was given command of Admiral Villeneuve’s flag ship, the 80 gun Bucentaure. This brief command ended when the Bucentaure was wrecked at the entrance to Cadiz Bay on October 22nd 1805. Despite this disaster Spear was promoted to Commander on December 24th 1805. On September 2nd 1811 we find him commanding the 10 gun Brig Chanticleer which was involved in the blockade of Denmark and Norway referred to earlier and under attack from a small Danish squadron off the Drommels.
Luckily for Spear the Chanticleer had been sailing in company with the gun-brig Manly under the command of Lieutenant Richard Simmonds. The Manly was armed with 10 18-pounder carronades and 2 long sixes. We have a graphic (if not quite C.S Forrester/Patrick O’Brien) account of Spear’s narrow escape in a letter which Simmonds sent to Sir Henry Stanhope who was the Commander-in-Chief, Sheerness. The letter is dated Christiansand, Norway, September 4th 1811.
It reads (in part) as follows:
“We exchanged numbers with the Chanticleer at 5:30 p.m. on the 1st instant ….when she made a signal to pass within hail, which I complied with, and waiting on Captain Spear, having no surgeon on board the Manly, and both vessels being bound for one port, I thought it prudent, through his advice, to remain in company with Chanticleer that night, for the purpose of her surgeon visiting my sick people the next morning. Captain Spear informing me, at the same time, he meant to sail along the coast during the night: the superior sailing of the Chanticleer occasioned me to carry a press of sails, against a heavy head-sea to keep her company.
At 1 a.m. she was a long way ahead and at 2, I observed three strange sails close to her, but could not now discover which was the Chanticleer. I then made the night signal, which was answered in that direction; and the four vessels being right ahead, I continued my course, endeavouring to come up with them, and as I was certain the Chanticleer must be one. About 3:30 I observed a firing among them, which gave me suspicion that the three strangers must be enemy vessels; and conceiving from their superior force the Chanticleer must be in a very perilous situation, I was determined, whatever might be the consequences, not to forsake her, but to share the same fate, and continued under all sail, using every exertion in my power to close with them for her assistance: being confident, from the appearance of the strangers, that their force was more than double ours, both in guns and men, I only thought of selling the Manly as dear as possible, in her support. I could not, however, distinguished which was the Chanticleer, till after I had received the fire of two of the enemies vessels, which I found to be three Danish brigs of war – the Loland (under Captain H.P.Holm) with a crew of 123 officers and men, the Alsen (Lieutenant Lutkin) and the Samsoe (Lieutenant Grothschilling) each with 123 officers and men on board.
I then perceived the Chanticleer to be abaft my larboard beam, making sail from the enemy. The largest brig now tacked to close the Manly: I hauled to the wind, and tacked, with our head to the eastward, to join the Chanticleer , if possible; but she still kept her course, steering from the enemy, and seemed to decline, on her part, to renew the action. I had, however, by this time, for her support, placed the Manly in a situation where it was impossible to avoid it, and the largest of the enemy’s brigs, which afterwards proved to be the Loland, coming up on our starboard beam, we received her whole broadside, which did us considerable damage. We instantly returned it, when an action commenced, and continued within musket-shot range for the space of 2 hours and 25 minutes, when the other two brigs, which had now left off chasing the Chanticleer, returned to support the Loland , and were within musket-shot, the one endeavouring to take her station on our larboard bow, and the other to supply the place of the Loland, who now tacked, and placed herself on our starboard quarter, keeping up a constant fire; nor was it in the smallest degree possible for us to prevent these manoeuvres on the part of the enemy, owing to their superior sailing, and we being completely disabled, our head-sails having been all shot away about the beginning of the action, and afterwards our standing and running rigging, with all the other sails entirely cut to pieces; our masts and bowsprit being badly wounded in several places, and 4 guns dismounted:as the fire of all three brigs would have opened upon us at a very small distance, within the space of 5 minutes, they still continuing to close, and our force consisting of only 37 men and 5 boys; the brig being in a crippled state and unmanageable, I conceived it would only have been in vain presumption on my part, and a cruel sacrifice of the lives of my crew, to have pretended further resistance against three heavy vessels, each of which, as it afterwards proved, mounted 18 long 18 pounders, especially when there was not the smallest hopes of any assistance, or possibility of escape. I was, therefore, reluctantly compelled to submit to their superior force; and although our loss in men was very trifling, having only 1 killed and 3 wounded, yet, from the length of time we were exposed to their fire, and the altered state of the brig at the close of the action, I have to thank the Almighty no more of them fell. The Loland has also suffered considerably; but of their damages and loss of men they avoid letting us gain any information. The Loland has to get a thorough repair, and is this day getting out her foremast.”
We have to assume that the Manly and her crew were taken into Christiansands from where Lieutenant Simmonds sent his report but evidently they found their way back to England where Lieutenant Simmonds was court-marshalled at Sheerness on January 6th 1812 for surrendering his ship to the enemy. He was honourably acquitted and retained his rank as Lieutenant.
Whilst we have to recognise that Lieutenant Simmonds’ letter must have been written in anticipation of a court-martial and is, therefore, self-serving it does not reflect very well on the conduct of Captain Richard Spear who appears to have left the Manly and her crew to their fate. In 1813, notwithstanding his conduct, he obtained the rank of post captain before retiring from the Royal Navy in 1814.
Two years before this incident (in 1809) Richard Spear had married Anne Maria Walter, the only daughter of John Walter (who is described as a “naval contractor” in North Yarmouth). He died in Gorleston in 1825. My grandmother’s family were to remain in and around Great Yarmouth for several generations.
We have a lasting souvenir of Richard Spear in the family crest which is a “bras arme” brandishing a spear.
