Richard Darton Thomas was born at Saltash on 2nd June, 1777, son of Charles and Mary Thomas of that place. Drinking in the sea air, living in the midst of sailors and fisher-folk, he early took a fancy for the sea, and entered as an able-bodied seaman in the Royal Navy, in 1790, at the age of thirteen. His intelligence, his pleasant manners, won the regard of his officers and he was raised to be midshipman in 1792, and became master's mate in the ensuing year. He was in the Boyne under Sir John Jervis when Martinique was captured, and on the return of the Boyne to England, he was on board when that vessel was burnt at Spithead, 1st May, 1795. The marines had been exercising and firing on the windward side, and it is supposed that some ignited paper of the cartridges flew through the quarter-galley into the admiral's cabin and communicated with the papers lying about on the table. It was at 11 a.m. that the fire broke out, the flames bursting through the poop before the fire was discovered, and it spread so rapidly that in less than half an hour this fine ship, in spite of every exertion of the officers and crew, was in a blaze fore and aft. As soon as the fire was discovered by the fleet, all the boats of the ships proceeded to the assistance of the Boyne, and the whole of the numerous crew, except eleven, were saved.

The Boyne's guns being loaded went off as they became heated, discharging their shot among the shipping, whereby two men were killed and one wounded on board the Queen Charlotte. At about half-past one the Boyne burnt from her cables and drifted to the east with a streamer of fire and smoke pouring from her; she then grounded and continued to burn till six o'clock, when the fire reached her magazine and she blew up. This, as Captain Brenton wrote, "offered one of the most magnificent sights that can be conceived. The afternoon was perfectly calm and the sky clear; the flames which darted from her in a perpendicular column of great height were terminated by an opaque white cloud like a round cap, while the air was filled with fragments of wreck in every direction, and the stump of the foremast was seen above the smoke descending to the water."

We next find Thomas serving as lieutenant on board the Excellent, commanded by Captain Collingwood, in the battle off Cape S. Vincent. It was intended that the Spanish fleet should join that of Brest, if this latter could get out, then if joined by the Dutch fleet, cover the transports that would convey an invading army to England. But, as Touchstone wisely said, there is "much virtue in If." Sir John Jervis fell in with the Spanish fleet of twenty-seven sail of the line, on February 14th, 1797, as it had just issued from Cadiz. The English had only fifteen men-of-war; but the greater part of the Spanish crew were about equally destitute of seamanship and spirit, and Nelson had said just before the breaking out of the war with Spain, that if her fleet were no better now than when it acted in alliance with us it would "soon be done for." By breaking the line, by battering and boarding, four Spanish ships of the line, including one of 112 guns, were taken; and all the rest were driven into Cadiz and there blockaded.

During the action the Excellent, on which Richard Thomas was lieutenant, was acknowledged by Nelson to have taken a very distinguished share, and to have rendered him the most effectual support in the hottest part of the battle, as will be seen by the following note which he addressed to her commander, and an extract from his own account of the transactions in which he himself was personally engaged.

His note ran: "Dear Collingwood,—A friend in need is a friend indeed."

Nelson's account of the assistance he received from the Excellent runs thus:—

"At this time (about 2.15 p.m.) the Salvador del Mundo and San Esidero dropped astern, and were fired into, in a masterly style, by the Excellent, Captain Collingwood, who compelled the San Esidero to hoist English colours; and I thought the large ship, the Salvador del Mundo, had also struck, but Captain Collingwood, disdaining the parade of taking possession of a vanquished enemy, most gallantly pushed up, with every sail set, to save his old friend and messmate, who was to appearance in a critical state, the Blenheim being ahead, the Culloden crippled and astern. The Excellent ranged up within two feet of the San Nicholas, giving a most tremendous fire. The San Nicholas luffing up, the San Josef fell on board her; and the Excellent passing on for the Santa Trinidada, the Captain resumed her station abreast of these, and close alongside."

The Excellent, in fact, succeeded in getting close under the lee of the Santissima Trinidada, mounting 130 guns, and engaged her for nearly an hour, assisted by the Orion, the Irresistible, and the Blenheim. The huge vessel was compelled to haul down her colours, but the approach of thirteen other Spanish ships prevented her opponents from profiting by the advantage they had gained. The total loss on the Excellent amounted to eleven men killed and a dozen wounded.

We need not follow Richard D. Thomas through his various changes of ships. He was mainly with Collingwood, whose flag, as Rear-Admiral of the White, was flying on board the Barfleur, of ninety-eight guns. With him he remained on Channel service till the suspension of hostilities in 1802. He was given the rank of commander in 1803, when in the Chichester off Halifax.

Returning from Nova Scotia, as a passenger on board the packet Lady Hobart, commanded by Captain Fellowes, he experienced shipwreck and terrible hardships, by the vessel running on an iceberg.

After giving an account of his sailing from Halifax, June 22nd, 1803, and the capture of a French schooner laden with salt fish on the 26th, Captain Fellowes says:—

"Tuesday, 28th June.—Blowing hard from the westward, with a heavy sea and hazy weather, with intervals of thick fog. About 1 a.m. the ship, then going by the log at the rate of seven miles an hour, struck against an island of ice with such violence that several of the crew were pitched out of their hammocks. Being roused out of my sleep by the suddenness of the shock, I instantly ran upon the deck. The helm being put hard aport, the ship struck again about the chest-tree, then swung round on her keel, her stern-post being stove in, and her rudder carried away before we could succeed in an attempt to haul her off. At this time the island of ice appeared to hang quite over the ship, possessing a high peak, which must have been at least twice the height of our masthead; and we suppose the length of the island to have been from a quarter to half a mile.

"The sea was now breaking over the ice in a dreadful manner, the water rushing in so fast as to fill the hold in a few minutes. Hove the guns overboard, cut away the anchors from the bows, got two sails under the ship's bottom, kept both pumps going, and baling with buckets at the main hatchway, in the hope of preventing her from sinking; but in less than a quarter of an hour she settled down in her forechains in the water.

"Our situation was now become most perilous. Aware of the danger of a moment's delay in hoisting out the boats, I consulted Captain Thomas of the Navy, and Mr. Bargus, my master, as to the propriety of making any further attempts to save the ship."

Both declared that nothing effectual could be done to the vessel herself, and that, as every moment was precious, the boats should be got out and manned. Of these there were two, the cutter and the jolly-boat, and the ladies were placed in the former.

Captain Fellowes expressed himself afterwards warmly of the ability and readiness with which Captain Thomas aided him. In bringing the ladies into the cutter, one of them, Miss Cottenham, was so terrified that she sprang from the wreck and pitched in the bottom of the boat with considerable violence. This accident might have been serious, but happily she was not injured.

"The few provisions which had been saved from the men's berths were then put into the boats. By this time the main deck forward was under water, and nothing but the quarter-deck appeared; I then ordered my men into the boats.

"The ship was sinking fast, and I called to the men to haul up and receive me, intending to drop into the cutter from the end of the trysail boom.

"The sea was running so high at the time we hoisted out the boats that I scarcely flattered myself we should get them out safely; and, indeed, nothing but the steady and orderly conduct of the crew could have enabled us to effect so difficult and hazardous an undertaking; it is a justice to them to observe that not a man in the ship attempted to make use of the liquor, which every one had in his power.

"We had scarce quitted the ship when she suddenly gave a heavy lurch to port, and then went down foremost. I cannot attempt to describe my own feelings, or the sensations of my people, exposed as we were, in two small open boats, upon the great Atlantic Ocean, bereft of all assistance but that which our own exertions, under Providence, could afford us, we narrowly escaped being swallowed up in the vortex.

"We rigged the foremast, and prepared to shape our course in the best manner that circumstances would admit of, the wind blowing from the precise point on which it was necessary to sail to reach the nearest land. An hour had scarcely elapsed from the time the ship struck till she foundered. The distribution of the crew had already been made in the following order, which we afterwards preserved:—

"In the cutter were embarked three ladies and myself, Captain Richard Thomas; the French commander of the schooner; the master's mate, gunner, steward, carpenter, and eight seamen; in all eighteen people, whose weight, together with the provisions, brought the boat's gunwale down to within six or seven inches of the water. From this confined space some idea may be formed of our crowded state; but it is scarcely possible for the imagination to conceive the extent of our sufferings in consequence.

"In the jolly-boat were embarked Mr. Samuel Bargus, master; Lieut.-Colonel George Cocks, of the 1st Regiment of Guards;[16] the boatswain, sailmaker, and seven seamen—in all eleven persons.

"The only provisions, etc., we were enabled to save consisted of between forty and fifty pounds of biscuits, one vessel containing five gallons of water, a small jug of the same, and part of a small barrel of spruce beer; one demi-john of rum, a few bottles of port wine, with two compasses, a quadrant, a spy-glass, a small tin mug, and a wine-glass. The deck lantern, which had a few spare candles in it, had been likewise thrown into the boat; and the cook having had the precaution to secure the tinder-box and some matches that were kept in a bladder, we were afterwards enabled to steer by night.

"The wind was now blowing strong from the westward, with a heavy sea, and the day just dawned. Estimating ourselves to be at the distance of 350 miles from S. John's, Newfoundland, with a prospect of a continuance of westerly winds, it became necessary to use the strictest economy. I represented to my companions in distress that our resolution, once made, ought on no account to be changed, and that we must begin by suffering privations, which I foresaw would be greater than I ventured to explain. To each person, therefore, were served out half a biscuit and a glass of wine, which was the only allowance for the ensuing twenty-four hours, all agreeing to leave the water untouched as long as possible."

On the following day even this small allowance had to be contracted, in consequence of the biscuit being much damaged by salt water during the night. "Soon after daylight we made sail, with the jolly-boat in tow, and stood close-hauled to the northward and westward, in the hope of reaching the coast of Newfoundland or of being picked up by some vessel. Passed two islands of ice. We now said prayers, and returned thanks to God for our deliverance."

It was now the 4th July. The sufferings of those in the boats became excessive. The commander of the French schooner that had been captured went mad, and threw himself overboard. One of the French prisoners became so outrageous that it was found necessary to lash him to the bottom of the boat.

At last, on this same day, the 4th July, after seven days of dreadful privation and incessant storm, they reached Conception Bay, in the Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland. They had been reduced to a quarter of a biscuit per diem and a wine-glass of port wine and spirit, and then of water.

Captain Fellowes says: "Overpowered by my own feelings, and impressed with the recollections of our sufferings and the sight of so many deplorable objects, I promised to offer up our solemn thanks to heaven for our miraculous deliverance. Every one cheerfully assented, and as soon as I opened the Prayer-book there was an universal silence. A spirit of devotion was singularly manifested on this occasion, and to the benefits of a religious sense in uncultivated minds must be ascribed that discipline, good order, and exertion, which even the sight of land could scarcely produce.

"The wind having blown with great violence from off the coast, we did not reach the landing-place at Island Cove till four o'clock in the evening. All the women and children in the village, with two or three fishermen (the rest of the men being absent), came down to the beach, and appearing deeply affected at our wretched situation, assisted in carrying us up the craggy rocks, over which we were obliged to pass to get to their habitations.

"The small village afforded neither medical aid nor fresh provisions, of which we stood so much in need, potatoes and salt fish being the only food of the inhabitants. I determined, therefore, to lose no time in proceeding to S. John's, having hired a small schooner for that purpose. On the 7th July we embarked in three divisions, placing the most infirm in the schooner, the master's mate being in charge of the cutter, and the boatswain of the jolly-boat; but such was the exhausted state of nearly the whole party, that the day was considerably advanced before we could get under way.

"Towards dusk it came on to blow hard in squalls off the land, when we lost sight of the cutter, and were obliged to come to anchor outside S. John's Harbour. We were under great apprehensions for the cutter's safety, as she had no grapnel, and lest she should be driven out to sea, but at daylight we perceived her and the schooner entering the harbour.

"The ladies, Colonel Cooke, Captain Thomas, and myself, having left the schooner when she anchored, notwithstanding the badness as well as extreme darkness of the night, reached the shore about midnight. We wandered for some time about the streets, there being no house open at that late hour, but were at length admitted into a small tenement, where we passed the remainder of the night on chairs, there being but one miserable bed for the ladies. Early on the following day, our circumstances being made known, hundreds of people crowded down to the landing-place. Nothing could exceed their surprise on seeing the boats that had carried twenty-nine persons such a distance over a boisterous sea, and when they beheld so many miserable objects, they could not conceal their emotions of pity and concern."

It was found that the greatest circumspection had to be used in administering nourishment to those who came on shore. They were so much frost-bitten, moreover, as to require constant surgical assistance. Many had lost their toes, and they were constrained to remain at S. John's till they were in a fit state to be removed to Halifax.

On the 11th July Captain Fellowes, with Captain Thomas, and Lieutenant-Colonel Cooke, engaged the cabin of a small vessel, bound for Oporto, so as to return to England.

When Captain Fellowes sent in his report on the loss of the Lady Hobart, he added a postscript: "I regret that, in the hurry of drawing up this narrative, I should have omitted to make particular mention of Captain Richard Thomas, r.n., from whose great professional skill and advice throughout our perilous voyage I derived the greatest assistance."

In December, 1803, Captain Thomas commissioned the Ætna bomb, and soon after joined the fleet under Lord Nelson in the Mediterranean station, where he was very actively employed up to the battle of Trafalgar. After that he served as flag-captain under his old friend and patron, Lord Collingwood.

In February, 1811, he was appointed to the Undaunted, employed in co-operation with the Spanish patriots off the coast of Catalonia. He was subsequently employed in command of a squadron stationed in the Gulf of Lyons, blockading Toulon. He was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue in 1848; Admiral of the Blue, 1854; Admiral of the White, 1857, in which year he died, and was buried at Stonehouse, 27th August. He married, in 1827, Gratiana, daughter of Lieutenant-General Richard Williams, r.n.

His brother, Charles Thomas, m.d., was for some time physician to the Devonport Dispensary.