The Cordelia, a West Country smack embayed in the Bristol Channel (1874)

April 17, 2026April 17, 2026 ~ Serena ~ Leave a comment

Historical black and white photograph of a coastal harbour looking down from the top of the cliff to the water below, centred on a sailing ship leaving harbour. Beyond the harbour in the background can be seen encircling hills and cliffs sheltering the harbour from the open sea beyond. — Ilfracombe Harbour, Devon. Elevated view looking west across the harbour and Lantern Hill towards the buildings of Ilfracombe. Photograph taken 1850 – 1920
Source: Historic England Archive (ref: OP07458). **https://historicengland.org.uk/education/schools-resources/educational-images/the-harbour-ilfracombe-10092**

For this blog we welcome my colleague Tanja Watson, Maritime Research Specialist, Historic England, who introduces us to the loss of the Cordelia in the Bristol Channel in 1874 and the specific wreck process of embayment on a lee shore.

Tanja writes:

The hazards of the Bristol Channel

Today’s blog explores the hazards faced by sailing vessels in the Bristol Channel. Sailing smacks such as the Cordelia were a common feature of 19th-century coastal commerce in Britain, particularly in the Bristol Channel. These vessels were typically small, single-masted, and fore-and-aft rigged – designed to be sturdy and versatile for both fishing and the transport of goods. Some larger smacks were ketch-rigged, while smaller ones retained the traditional gaff cutter rig.

These smacks, though modest in size, represented a type of vessel essential for the local economy. They could navigate the Channel’s strong currents, unusually large tidal ranges (12-14 metres) [1], and frequently unpredictable weather with small crews, achieving average speeds of 4 to 7 knots (nautical miles per hour), depending on wind conditions.The Bristol Channel is known for having one of the highest tidal ranges in the world, second only to the Bay of Fundy in Canada. [2] It has a complex, irregular coastline, creating conditions in which vessels can easily become embayed or trapped in a bay or coastal recess.

The combination of tides, winds, and coastal geography in the Channel can quickly limit a vessel’s manoeuvrability and push it towards a lee shore – a stretch of shoreline lying downwind of the ship, where wind and waves drive it steadily closer to land. The term lee denotes the side of a vessel sheltered from the wind, as opposed to the windward side, which faces into it, and thus a ship being driven onto a lee shore is being driven by the wind onto the shore.

The loss of the Cordelia

On 30^th November 1874, the Barnstaple-registered Cordelia set off from Ilfracombe Harbour for what should have been a routine voyage up the Bristol Channel to Newport on the River Usk, to collect a cargo of Welsh coal. This West Country smack, built around 1855 and with a tonnage of 32 register tons, was crewed by two men and a boy (the captain’s son). [3]

Map of the Bristol Channel, featuring its coastal towns such as Cardiff, Swansea, and Newport, with an inset map showing the location of Bristol and London. — **Map of the Bristol Channel, England/Wales. Combination of CIA World Factbook map and Demis Map Server (http://www2.demis.nl/worldmap/mapper.asp) data with additional annotations and modifications by the **ChrisO –** Public Domain**

At first, conditions seemed favourable, with a light north-north-westerly breeze. But as the Cordelia passed the hamlet of Watermouth, just two miles east of Ilfracombe, the wind veered sharply to the north-east, catching the crew off guard. Several attempts to tack failed, and the decision was eventually made to return to port. Nearing Beacon Point, however, the wind shifted once more – this time to the north-west – before dropping away altogether. Unballasted and at the mercy of the tidal currents, the ship began to drift helplessly toward the rocky shoreline.

Contemporary newspapers describe the unfolding crisis:

‘[The Cordelia] proceeded some distance, but the wind having shifted, they let her drift back with the tide. Late in the day she was observed from the shore to be off Lantern Hill. After this, with a turn of the wind, she again went up Channel, but not far, for she was next seen in Hele Bay, and from this spot appeared unable to get clear, being ‘embayed.’ . . .

‘The course taken appears to have been too close in—too short a cut in fact was attempted. The Cordelia struck on Beacon Point, and there stopped. It was seen that nothing more could be done, and that it must be abandoned. A very heavy sea was running, but the men providentially were able to effect their escape in Stephen Brown’s boat.

‘When the fact of the smack having gone ashore became known at the quay—it was between seven and eight o’clock when it struck—the three gigs, the Try, the Tiger, and Brilliant, were at once manned and pulled out to the point, but they could give no assistance, as they were unable to tow the vessel off the rocks; indeed they could not get within any reasonable distance because of the heavy swell which was continually breaking around her.

‘[The Cordelia] soon fell over on her side, and held that position for a while, one of her lights being seen after the crew had landed. In about an hour’s time, the light had disappeared, and nothing was afterwards visible in the black darkness from the pier.’ [4]

Aerial view of a coastal town with the sea to the left of image, showcasing a mixture of residential buildings, hills, and rocky shoreline with agricultural land in the background. — Aerial view of Ilfracombe
© Chris, contributor to geograph.org.uk CC-BY-SA 2.0

An account from another newspaper:

‘Floating like a bladder on the water, there being no ballast in her, she was quickly carried by the flowing tide and ground sea on to the west of Beacon Rock [Point], when, seeing there was no hope of saving her the crew got into the boat, and shortly afterwards the timbers of the smack were floating about like an upset box of matches. Had the smack been in ballast there is every probability that the disaster would not have occurred. It is not at all unusual for vessels to run between Ilfracombe and the Welsh coast without ballast, and it is to be hoped owners will now see the folly of this penny wise and pound foolish economy.’ [5]

(At this period coal was sufficiently profitable that it did not require trading for an exchange cargo, so it was common for ships to run ‘light’ (without cargo and ‘in ballast’) to collect a cargo of coal. The lack of ballast is almost unheard of in the wreck record.)

Fortunately, Captain Thomas Vound and his crew were rescued from their night-time ordeal by lifeboatman Richard Souch in the Olive Branch shortly before the vessel struck at about 9pm. All their belongings were lost. [6]

One week earlier, storms had struck the nearby Hele Bay with considerable force, and had this incident occurred then, their chances of survival would have been far slimmer, as pointed out by the newspapers.

Services interrupted

Cordelia’s owner, John Tucker Bament (1840–1876), a local coal merchant in Ilfracombe [7], lost his entire investment that night. He had just paid for Cordelia’s refitting with new sails and repairs in preparation for the winter season. However, he had decided not to, or could not afford to, pay for either the ballast she should have carried, or the insurance of the vessel. It is possible Bament supplied coal to Ilfracombe or Barnstaple, or the newly opened Barnstaple and Ilfracombe Railway, which had begun operation just four months earlier (20 July 1874). [8]

Historic sepia photograph showing a train travelling along to right with a noticeable head of steam, with a station and buildings in centre background, set in a rural landscape of rolling hills beyond. — **Picture postcard of Ilfracombe railway station around 1900.**
**public domain image**

(The strong links between maritime and rail transport have recently been covered in this blog in a three-part special by my colleague Serena Cant, see Railways 200: a maritime perspective.)

In the master’s own words

Further slight variations on these reports were published in contemporary newspapers, including the captain’s report, which was published five days after the event:

‘CORDELIA – Report of Thomas Vound, Master of the smack CORDELIA, of Barnstaple, 32 tons, from Ilfracombe for Newport: On Monday, the 30^th November, at1 P.M., tide half ebb, weather fine, wind N.N.W., light breeze, the ship was about half a mile N.E. of Capston[e] Hill [Ilfracombe]. We proceeded as far as Watermouth, when the wind shifted to the N.E., with a fresh breeze. The vessel missed stays on several occasions. Bore up for Ilfracombe at 7 P.M. Reached as far as Beacon Point, the wind then shifted to N.W., with a light breeze. Heavy ground sea on. The vessel drifted ashore at 8 P.M. on Beacon Point on the rocks, and immediately began to fill with water, the water being over the cabin sheets. The vessel began to break up when I left her, about 8 30 P.M. – Ilfracombe, Dec. 1.’ [9]

And so we conclude with an insight into the processes of wreck, with specific reference to the combinations of wind, tide and sea state: a local vessel lost on her local shores, compounded by an unusual and locally-adopted cost-cutting measure, which ultimately cost her owner more money.

Footnotes:

[1] Generally cited as mean spring range12.2m to 12.3m at Avonmouth but reaches 14m in the Severn Estuary specifically: Associated British Ports (nd) ‘Bristol Channel Tides’ ABP South Wales; HM Government, Department of Energy and Climate Change, 2010: Severn Tidal Power: Feasibility Study Conclusions and Summary Report gov.uk

[2] Gao, C and Adcock, T 2017 ‘On the Tidal Resonance of the Bristol Channel’ International Journal of Offshore and Polar Engineering 27(2): 177-183 https://users.ox.ac.uk/~spet1235/ijope-27-2-p177-as19-Gao.pdf

[3] Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, 05 December 1874, p10

[4] Ilfracombe Chronicle, 05 December 1874, p9

[5] Western Morning News, 02 December 1874, p3

[6] Moore, J (nd) On the Hele Shipwrecks. https://johnhmoore.co.uk/hele/shipwrecks.htm; Western Times, 04 December 1874, pp7–8; Lloyd’s List, 03 December 1874, p8

[7] Find a Grave: John Tucker Bament (1840–1876). https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/227351890/john-tucker-bament; North Devon Advertiser, 04 December 1874, p4

[8] Spong, G, ‘Combe Rail’, Ilfracombe Branch Project. http://www.combe-rail.org.uk/history/#:~:text=The%20Ilfracombe%2DBarnstaple%20line%20was

[9] Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, 05 December 1874, p10

Black History Month: October 2018

October 31, 2018October 31, 2018 ~ Serena ~ Leave a comment

The wreck of the London, 1796: what happened next?

Today’s guest blog comes from Abigail Coppins, a historian specialising in the history and heritage of Black prisoners of war of the Napoleonic era: she recently helped to develop the award-winning display at Portchester Castle telling the story of the POWs who ended up there.

Here she sheds new light on the fate of the prisoners of war who escaped alive from the wreck of the London. Abigail writes:

Historical background and legend intertwined:

The stranding of the London, at Rapparee Cove in Devon in October 1796, has become part of local legend and folklore on a coastline which has seen more than its fair share of wrecks, including the 1691 loss of a vessel bound from Cork for Brest with Irish soldiers or ‘rapparees’, of which only six escaped alive from the passengers and crew. Documentary evidence for wrecks in this area before the 17^th century has largely not survived, but since that time over 30 vessels have stranded in and near Ilfracombe with its rocky coastline and high cliffs. (1)

Photograph of rocky cove with steep, hilly sides covered in green. The tide is nearly at the entrance to the cove, which is very narrow. — View of Rapparee Beach, Ilfracombe, Devon. showing the narrow cove cut off by the tide. CC-BY-SA/2.0 © Steve Daniels – geograph.org.uk/p/1494232

The London is often described as a ‘slaver’ carrying a cargo of gold and Caribbean slaves or prisoners to be sold in Bristol. This legend is helped along by the periodic exposure of both coins (one of which is definitively Roman, so clearly antedates the wreck) and human remains at the cove. In 1997 a rescue dig at the cove uncovered more human remains, which were believed to be associated with the passengers and crew of the London.

Their possible identity in the context of a lack of formal burial, consistent with burial practice in cliff locations, has enabled the London to become, perhaps, one of the most controversial wrecks in Britain.

It would be another 12 years following the wreck before the Burial of Drowned Persons Act 1808 compelled the interment of shipwrecked bodies in consecrated ground. Elsewhere in England, other mass graves of shipwreck victims where they were washed up are attested, including crew members from HMS Anson, lost in 1807 in a similarly inaccessible location which prevented rescue: and in Northern Europe such burials also persisted until well into the 19^th century. (2) Of course, until there is an analysis and published report on the human remains, their identity will, for now, be a matter of conjecture.

However, there is much more to the story of the London than the human remains possibly from the wreck. This blog will pull together what I have managed to piece together about the London, its passengers and what happened to them.

The French Revolution in the Eastern Caribbean

Old b&w map with some colour highlights — *Map of the West Indies, Antilles, and Caribbean Sea*, from *Pinkerton’s Modern Atlas*, John Pinkerton (Thomas Dobson & Co: Philadelphia, 1818) Guadeloupe, St. Kitts and St. Lucia are all among the Windward Islands highlighted in pink to the right of the map.

The story of the London and her passengers begins in the Caribbean. In 1793, when Britain and France went to war, their Caribbean colonies were also caught up in the fighting. In 1794, Victor Hugues, the French-born revolutionary, captured the island of Guadeloupe from Britain and declared an end to slavery on the island. The formerly enslaved plantation workers were enlisted into local regiments as part of a levée en masse, with many of their officers coming from amongst the free-born black and mixed-race population. As free French soldiers, they fought against Britain on islands including St. Lucia, St. Vincent, Martinique and Grenada. The conflicts on these islands are characterised by the coming together of the internal slave rebellions with the political ideology of the French Revolution to form a powerful new force in the fight against slavery in the Caribbean.

Printed document in French. — Hugues’ proclamation, 1794

As a result, Britain undertook numerous campaigns in the Caribbean to take and re-take various islands, with some islands changing hands several times. The locally enlisted free Black French troops were powerful tools in this military (and ideological) war against Britain and the Black soldiers proved to be formidable opponents.

Despite this, Britain’s campaigns in this part of the Caribbean resulted in the capture of large numbers of free Black French soldiers on islands such as St. Lucia, Grenada, St. Vincent and Martinique. Most of the captured Black soldiers were regarded as French prisoners of war, although there were exceptions. Once captured, these soldiers were placed under guard on military transport ships whilst arrangements were made to send them to the prisoner of war depots in Britain.

Some of the Black prisoners of war are likely to have been from the French garrison at Morne Fortuné, St. Lucia, who had capitulated to the forces led by Sir John Moore on 26^th May 1796, under terms that stated ‘The Agent General, the Commander in Chief, and the Forces of the Republic, who have defended the Island ….. shall be treated as Prisoners of War….’ .

The Journey of the London

In July 1796 a convoy of ships, including the London, left the island of St. Kitts and set sail across the Atlantic, escorted by HMS Ganges. The ships were carrying around 3,000 mainly Black French soldiers (prisoners of war) who had been captured on the islands of St. Lucia, St. Vincent and Grenada. The London was carrying ‘…one Officer, Eight Serjeants, and Eleven Privates of the 66^th Reg^t and 106 French Prisoners (Black)….’. (3)

The convoy arrived off the coast of Ireland in September and then divided. One group of ships set off for Liverpool – probably to offload prisoners at the prisoner of war depot at Liverpool. The rest headed south-east, with most of the convoy arriving at Plymouth and the associated prison (Mill Prison) at the beginning of October. When it was discovered that the prison there was full, the ships sailed on to Portsmouth (Portchester Castle).

It seems likely that as the London was wrecked on the North Devon coast she was sailing directly through the Bristol Channel to an alternative prisoner of war depot in Bristol (Stapleton Prison) when she hit bad weather and was wrecked. Another (unnamed) vessel from the convoy also got into difficulty off the South Wales coast, suggesting that it was possibly also making its way to Bristol.

The wreck at Ilfracombe

On 14^th October 1796, a letter informed the War Office that the London had been wrecked at Ilfracombe and that the Surrey Fencibles had been sent from Barnstaple to guard the surviving prisoners. Casualties were estimated at one private and two serjeants of the 66^th Regiment and 31 black soldiers (prisoners) dead, plus around 40 of the London’s crew. A contemporary newspaper account read as follows:

‘October 16th: This evening a very melancholy accident happened at Ilfracombe: a ship called the London, from St. Kitts having on board a considerable number of blacks (French prisoners) was driven on the rocks, near the entrance of the pier, by a violent gale of wind, by which about 50 of the prisoners were drowned; those who got on shore exhibited a most wretched spectacle, and the scene was altogether too shocking for description.’ (5)

Thirty of the London’s prisoners, including one woman, were then taken to Stapleton Prison, arriving there in December. The timescale between the wreck and the prisoners’ arrival at Bristol suggests that they may have been held somewhere else before arriving at Bristol. The Stapleton prison register records that these thirty prisoners were captured on Grenada and St. Vincent. Other survivors from the London may have been sent to Mill Prison, or possibly to join the over two thousand Black prisoners of war at Portchester Castle.

Ruins of castle set against a blue sky, green lawn in foreground. — Portchester Castle, Hampshire

Women and capture

The woman from the London was Madame Heaurlaux, wife of Colonel Heaurlaux, commander of Fort Charlotte on St. Vincent. Both she and her husband were sent from Stapleton to Chippenham on ‘parole’. Captured officers were often allowed to live outside prison in specially designated parole towns – there were over sixty in Britain at this time.

The presence of Mme Heaurlaux aboard the London is not unusual. Women often accompanied their husbands on campaign, and sometimes into captivity, and women and children are also recorded on board ships from the rest of the convoy. There were approximately 100 women and children amongst the over 2,000 mainly Black prisoners of war who arrived at Portchester Castle. Portchester’s registers of arrivals record that they were a mix of both Black and European women and children.

At Portchester the women were placed in separate accommodation before being sent to nearby Forton Prison in Gosport. Once there they were given a large room in the prison hospital to live in. Most were soldiers’ wives, following the drum with their husbands and children, and most had been captured on the island of St. Lucia.

Stapleton Prison, Prisoner Exchange and Cartels

The prison register for Stapleton records that all prisoners arriving from the London, both Black and European, were exchanged for captured British soldiers via the ‘cartel’ vessels Nancy and Smallbridge.

Cartel vessels were used to repatriate prisoners of war, and tended to be merchant ships which flew a white flag and a flag of truce. (4) There were regular prisoner exchanges between Britain and France during the French wars. Cartels were also a chance for both France and Britain to do a bit of spying on each other as well!

The first Black prisoner from the London, Timothee, was exchanged to France in October 1797, around the same time that the Black prisoners from Portchester also began to be exchanged. Timothee arrived in France just under a year after he had first arrived at Stapleton Prison, with the rest of the Black prisoners from the London following in January 1798.

Oil painting showing a black cavalryman fighting alongside a white cavalryman in a melee of horses on the battlefield. — Detail from *The Battle of Marengo 14 June 1800*, Louis-François, Baron Lejeune, 1802, depicting a black soldier. (Wikimedia Commons)

Black Caribbean soldiers in France

Once in France, Black soldiers were sent to the French colonial army depots in places such as Brest, before being brought together at Rochefort and the Ile d’Aix. They were eventually consolidated into Le Bataillon des Pionniers Noirs and went on to fight across Europe for France in places such as Italy and Russia.

Some, such as Louis Delgrès (who was imprisoned at Portchester Castle), made it back to the Caribbean and fought in the wars in San Domingue (Haiti) and Guadeloupe. Others may have been recruited from prison into the Royal Navy.

Postage stamp with bust of man in wig and military uniform on right, flanked by red hibiscus flowers, on a creamy yellow background. — Stamp of Louis Delgrès issued on the bicentenary of his death.

Conclusion

The black prisoners from the London and the other vessels of the Ganges convoy are incredibly important to the history of race and diversity in Britain. They are also internationally significant because of the role they played in the struggle for freedom in the Caribbean. They transformed the political ideals of the French Revolution into an idea of universal rights for all. These were ideas that they fought and died for.

The story of the London and its passengers deserves a new place in our history.

Learn more:

Black Lives in Britain

More from Abigail Coppins on Wreck of the Week: The Duke of Wellington and the Amsterdam

Abigail will be giving a free talk in London: The Revolution Comes to Hampshire: Black Revolutionaries in an English Castle 1796-1800 on Tuesday 6 November 2018, 5.15pm

(1) Source: Historic England National Record of the Historic Environment database, October 2018

(2) Hasse, J. 2016 Versunkene Seelen: Begräbnitzplätze ertrunkener Seeleute im 19. Jahrhundert (Freiburg-im-Breisgau, Verlag Herder GmbH)

(3) The National Archives, WO 40/8

(4) We know of other cartel vessels wrecked on the English coast during the Napoleonic Wars. [Source: Historic England National Record of the Historic Environment database, October 2018]

(5) Sherborne Mercury, 17 October 1796, No.2,489, p3