One hundred and fifty years ago, sailor Thomas Lewis became the hero of one of the most gruesome shipwrecks in British maritime history – including drowning, fire and even cannibalism.
In the autumn of 1874, Twm Pen-Stryd, as he was known locally, from Moelfre on Anglesey, served aboard the Cospatrick, transporting emigrant workers and freight to New Zealand.
On the night of November 17, an uncontrollable fire broke out on the wooden sailing ship off the Cape of Good Hope in southern Africa, killing all but three of its 479 passengers and crew.
But without Twm’s experience – including urging them to drink the blood of those who had already died – even the survivors would not have returned to Britain to tell the story after ten days adrift in a lifeboat.
Twm – whose nickname loosely translates as Tom, Top of the Street – was born in 1828 in a fishing and seafaring community as one of seven children.
In his 1976 book, The Survival of Twn Pen-Stryd, RR Williams wrote that Twm’s father was blind, a possible reason for his son’s need to go to sea and provide income for the family.
Whatever his motives for leaving, when Twm returned from the Cospatrick disaster at the age of 46, it would be only his second visit home in 25 years.
Williams added that little is known about Twm’s early life and career at sea, although he did mention that he had served in the Navy as a young man.
“It is also suggested in some newspapers of the period that he had served with Belgian crews on foreign ships, and that as a Welsh speaker he had acquired a mixture of Welsh and Flemish accents when speaking in the English language,” says Williams. wrote.
In the 1870s, rural Britain was gripped by an agricultural depression, partly due to a series of wet summers and poor harvests, but also to cheaper shipping costs and the reduction in tariffs.
As a result, vast quantities of grain were imported from the newly settled North American prairies and the steppes of Russia, undermining British farmers.
New Zealand became attractive around this time as it actively encouraged new settlers with guided or free passage.
Unlike convict journeys to Australia, the Cospatrick was relatively comfortable, with an A1 safety certificate and good food and accommodation for the passengers.
But Rhodri Clark, the editor of Welsh history website History Points, who has researched Twm and the disaster, believes the Cospatrick may not have been as hospitable as its owners wanted people to believe.
“The Board of Trade investigation into the Cospatrick found that the probable cause of the fire was that passengers entered the hold at night in search of liquor, lighting their way with an open candle,” he said.
“It appears they got much more than they bargained for as the cargo also included highly flammable straw, palm and linseed oil and materials such as turpentine, paraffin, paint, candles and varnish, with tonnes of coal nearby.”
Mr Clark – who has installed a QR code on the site of a former shop in Moelfre with Twm’s name, as well as an audio description of the story on his website – added that there were only six lifeboats, with a maximum capacity of 187. available for the almost 500 on board.
“Incredibly, Cospatrick was awarded an A1 safety certificate because its six lifeboats met the rules of the day, which determined the number not by the number of passengers, but by the total tonnage of the ship.”
This rule would not be changed until the Titanic sank almost 40 years later, he added.
Twm’s exploits began immediately after the fire broke out, manning the water pumps and braving the flames and smoke long after many of his fellow officers had left their posts.
He was eventually forced to flee for his life when the fire grew out of control – although his actions had allowed dozens of people to escape.
Of the six lifeboats, four were lost in the fire, an overloaded fifth capsized, leaving only one upright and manoeuvrable.
Twm and his two eventual co-survivors – Second Mate Henry MacDonald and Ordinary Seaman Edward Cotter, just 18 years old – swam across to right the upturned boat and helped the 62 people who had left.
Without food, water and with broken oars, they wandered for ten days, powerless to respond to the cries for help from those still on board the stricken Cospatrick.
Second Mate MacDonald beamed in his praise for Twm during the 1875 survey.
‘Thomas Lewis gave Peter Cope, the ship’s baker, his dungarees because he was almost naked, and that was typical of his behavior during our ordeal.
“When other men were struggling, he discovered the inner strength to do what was necessary,” he said.
With only a handful of people still alive, Twm was the first to make the grim suggestion that they should drink the blood and eat the livers of those who had already died.
Twm told the inquest: “I unsheathed my knife and placed the sharp point on the wrist of one of the dead men and made a deep incision. I quickly bent low over the bleeding wrist and drank his blood.”
He said he also urged two others to “follow this example if they ever see their homes again.”
“I then cut out the livers of the two dead and distributed the pieces to the others on board… After this, the bodies were delivered to the sea.”
Finally, on their tenth day adrift, they were spotted by the British Sceptre, an iron sailing ship bound for Dundee from Calcutta.
Two of the five still alive at the time died on the way to St Helena in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but Twm, MacDonald and Cotter eventually made it back to Britain on New Year’s Eve 1874.
Mr Clark said Twm was already volunteering for the Moelfre lifeboat less than a month after his return, and was “involved in a significant rescue operation” a few days before heading to London for the investigation.
Twm returned to commercial shipping, but suffered another setback.
Williams wrote that, years after the Cospatrick affair, he was unloading a load of slate slabs on the River Thames as a helmsman on the CS Atkinson, a Bangor boat, when the tackle failed and crushed his leg.
“After a long and painful treatment, which ended in the amputation of his leg, he finally ‘swallowed the anchor’ and spent the rest of his life in the family home with his married sister in Pen-Stryd,” Williams wrote.
“He became a proverbial figure locally, throwing his wooden leg in a dramatic motion as he legged his way through the village.
“This retired old salt was bearded and weather-beaten and wore a sailor’s cap, blue sweater and bell-bottom trousers until his death in his 66th year in 1894.”