Wooden brig of Wexford, 180 tons burden [also called Mary and Betty]
Voyage Wexford to Liverpool with cargo of corn, pigs and sheep.
Driven ashore on Mockbeggar Wharf (shore near Leasowe) on 25 October 1820.
Captain Thomas Lambert, 6 crew, pilot and 4 passengers (only pilot and 3 crew survived)
Liverpool Mercury Friday 3 November 1820:
AFFECTING AND DISGRACEFUL NARRATIVE
In the last Mercury, we announced the wreck of a vessel off the Mockbeggar, on the preceding Wednesday night; observing, at the time, that some very disgraceful reports were in circulation relative to the plundering of the wreck, which we trusted would become the subject of strict investigation, but which we did not feel justified in writing until we obtained further confirmation. We conceived the subject of such importance, that we felt it incumbent upon us, after having alluded to the disgraceful fact of plundering to make the strictest inquiries into all the circumstances; with which view, a gentleman from our office, after a long and patient interview with some of the survivors, drew up the following minute detail nearly in the words of the parties themselves. It will be read with painful emotions by all those who feel any interest in the character of their country, or the cause of humanity. Averse as we are, in principle, to the introduction of the military upon almost any occasion, we could with pleasure see the soldiery brought out to suppress so lawless, cruel and unprincipled a crime as that which is now our painful duty to record.
The schooner Mary and Betsey, Capt. Thomas Lambert, sailed from Wexford on Tuesday the 24th ultimo [24 October 1820]. About eleven o'clock on Wednesday [25th October 1820], (the day following) took on board a Liverpool pilot; at 2pm it began to blow very hard; and at 3, hove to, considering it dangerous to proceed. At 4, it blew a dreadful gale; and at 6 at night, it being low water, the vessel struck upon a bank at Wallasey. She beat off from this bank and drifted on shore. Edward Campbell, a seaman states:
We then let go the best bower anchor, from the starboard side, and gave her the whole length of the cable, yet she would not fetch up, but beat very heavily against the bottom. The pilot then ordered us to cut, and loose the foresail, that she might be prevented from sinking so heavily, by being pressed down by the sail. But all endeavours being it vain, the vessel still beating very hard, all hands agreed that the best way was to take to the long boat. The boat was got over the side; there was a dreadful rolling surge, which broke over the weather side, (the ship then lying broadside on) and stove the boat. All hands got into her, not knowing that she was stove, and she immediately sunk under us. Then, by Providence, the fore tackle (with which the boat was hoisted out) did not unhook, but held on, and by means of it every one made the best of his way out. Six of us clung to the fore rigging, and the pilot, (who we mistook for the captain) to the main rigging. The captain and two of the passengers must then have been lost, as we saw them no more. We then thought of lightening her of the foresail, as she laboured and struck very hard, and we cut it away from the yard. We then cut away the topsail yard, and the topgallant mast, which from the pressure of the wind, required only the slicing of a knife. We were all washed out of the rigging; and when we got hold again, we heard Leary (a passenger) crying out for help and struggling; but it was not possible for us to relieve him, and he sank. James Welsh, a lad, stood on the main boom when the vessel struck, holding on by the mast. The vessel at once took the sand with her lee gunnel, and as the tide rose over her hull, he scrambled up to the main yard, the ship all the time lying very much down. The pilot, who was in the main crosstrees, at length got hold of him, and lifted him up. The next sea washed us all out of the fore rigging, the crosstrees giving way with us; and the boy was washed from the pilot. Another boy was washed from the foremast head; and when we recovered, we saw him grappling the collar of the fore stay; but he at length let go, from weakness, and we saw him no more. The sea then came right over us, as on a beach. The mate at this time had hold of the topmast, below us; and, seeing him nearly exhausted, and ready to fall off, we, with much difficulty, pulled him up to us. We then thought, (there being only four of us left, on the fore rigging) of clinging to each other, for mutual assistance and greater safety, determined, if we went, to go together. I gave the mate a rope in one hand, and bore him up as well as I could. In this way we continued, watching every sea, and warning each other to hold on. We had just time to draw breath between each sea. We often looked up to the moon, expecting the morning; but never spoke, except a word now and then, to encourage each other to be as stout as we could. We conjecture we hung on for about five hours and a half, when we perceived the tide had begun to ebb, as the sea did not wash so high over us. We then thanked God that the sea had begun to fall from us. At length the hull began to dry. The mate would have fallen off several times, he being raving and senseless; but I lashed him, that he might not fall. One of the men, Cullen, who was numbed and stupefied, remained on the rigging with the mate. Swainson and I crawled down to the vessel's side, and saw the pilot, who we had all night taken for the captain, and we sat down together on the fore-chains. We soon after heard the dogs bark on the shore; the moon was shining, but we could not distinguish anything distinctly on the beach. A boat then hove into sight; she came under the stern, as the sea was breaking over the bows. When we were going into the boat, the boat's crew cried to the mate and Cullen, if they would come. Cullen, not knowing what they said, refused, but the mate never spoke. It would have been dangerous for the boat to have gone forward for them at that time. The boat was a yawl of a large anchor boat which was lying outside, and on board of which they took us. There was a fire, and while we were warming ourselves, the boat went again to the vessel.
Cullen, who was left in the rigging with the mate, says:
I do not know how I held on, as I do not know what I said or did. I was lying in the rigging, with my arms locked in it; but, hearing a noise below, I looked down, and saw people cutting away the loose rigging and sails. When I looked down from the rigging there was a great crowd of people (more than a hundred) with horses and carts. It was just at break of day, at a place called Mockbeggar. None offered to assist us, until Matthew Shadrick and Robert Atkinson, two carpenters from Liverpool, came from the shore "with no intent of plunder or robbery". Mr Atkinson asked me to go with him. Not knowing his intentions (being stupefied) I said No. He then cried "Murder! save these people's lives! they are almost dead!" When I heard him say that, I opened my eyes and saw the boat right under me. I thought to let myself fall into it, but they helped me down, and, when they placed me in the boat I fell, and lay on my back. They asked me who was aloft? I answered that it was a little boy, having forgotten that it was the mate. They asked him to come down, but he made no answer, being benumbed and stupefied. They then hove me into a cart, to convey me quickly above the high water mark, and took me to the Lodge (on the estate of Mr Goudie [Mrs Boode, widow, is listed as owner] where they lodged and worked). They stripped, and put me in bed with four or five blankets around me. They then went down to save the other man; and they brought him up in a like manner, carrying him in between them, and put him in another bed. The carpenters afterwards told me, that in going down to save any of the rest they might find - they saw a corpse lying on the strand; there was a cart passing close by; they asked the people to take it in the cart, but they refused; they went further and saw a bag of potatoes which took into the cart, but they still refused to take the corpse.
Campbell, when he returned from the anchor boat, saw them plundering and wrecking in every direction, and even carrying away his own boxes and clothes before his eyes. The carpenters took him and Swainson, the other survivor, to the Lodge, where they had struck up a large fire , and they sat down. While one of the carpenters was fetching some milk, which they said they would like, the other went upstairs to see how Cullen and the mate were; and when he came down, he told them the mate was dead.
I believe, (said Cullen) that after his excessive fatigue, between the great cold and the heat, he had died. The carpenters thought he would have recovered as well as I did, and went to save the others.
The carpenters then sent to Mrs Goudie's[sic]; called the steward out of bed; and got some rum which they gave to them in small quantities, as they could bear it, and treated them with every kindness.
And we firmly believe, and wish it to be mentioned, that if it had not been for the exertions of these good people, we would all have died.
Campbell came to Liverpool; and, on passing through Wallasey, saw four of the corpses, among which he recognised the captain. The woman, at whose house they lay, gave him an old hat, seeing that he had nothing but a handkerchief round his head.
On Tuesday following, Cullen and Campbell, having gone to look at
the vessel, Mrs Goudie's[sic] gardener saw them, and took them to his
mistress. She asked them if they had been treated well by her servants,
her orders being to give every help and attention to any person found in
distress on that shore. They replied that they had been treated with
the utmost kindness; and expressed their gratitude to the lady and her
servants. No humanity was shown to them by any one but by that lady,
the two carpenters, and the lady's servants. [Mrs Margaret Boode, widow
of Lewis Boode, owner of Leasowe Castle, whose daughter Mary married Edward
Cust who inherited the Hall when Margaret died in 1826 in a road
accident, had a deserved
reputation for charity towards those shipwrecked nearby]
The pigs with which the vessel was loaded, were scattered up and down
the country, some of them alive.
The wreckers completely stripped the vessel, leaving nothing but the standing rigging and the masts; but, as one informed of another, dreading the strong arm of the law, a great part of the plunder has been restored.
The following is the result of the catastrophe:
Drowned - Thomas Lambert, captain; Nicholas Doyle, Wm Kennedy, of the crew;
Philip Welsh, James Pierce, James Welsh, John Leary, passengers.
Died, through the inhumanity of the wreckers - Patrick Welsh, mate.
Saved - The Pilot and 3 crew: Edward Campbell, Edw. Cullen, Paul Swainson.
Two more of the corpses have been found, and interred in Wallasey church yard.
The young man, Philip Welsh, who, we understand, was educated for a clergyman, was brought to Liverpool, and interred at the expense of Mr Murphy, of the Hibernian Hotel. Four other bodies were, we hear, decently interred here, by the subscription of some benevolent persons.
Aftermath: the hull was refloated and taken to Liverpool on 4th November
A court case for wrecking:
Punishment For Plundering Of Wrecks
Thomas Moore, of Moreton, labourer, was convicted at the Chester Assizes of stealing ropes from the wreck of the Mary and Betty, stranded on the Wallasey shore in October, 1820, and sentenced to death. It is hoped, that all those persons who have hitherto looked upon wrecking as a lawful trade, will learn from the sentence, that, by the law of the land, as well as the laws of humanity, it is considered a most atrocious crime. By the 26th of Geo.II. plundering a vessel in distress (whether wreck or no wreck) is felony without benefit of Clergy.