The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
ironclad afloat, in this or any other country. She carried 18-ton
guns--muzzle-loaders--and nine inches of armour, though this was only
in patches; but she had a good deal of six-inch armour, and her
water-line and battery were well protected, as against ordnance of that
date. She was full-rigged, with the spars and sails of a
line-of-battle ship, and she could steam fourteen knots--on a pinch,
and could sail a _little_. In fact she was the masterpiece of Sir
Edward Reed's genius.
"Up to the advent of the _Hercules_ the three great five-masted ships
of 10,000 tons, the _Minotaur_, _Agincourt_ and {50} _Northumberland_,
had been considered the most powerful ships in the British Navy, and
probably in the world, and Sir Edward Reed's triumph was, that he built
a ship of about 8500 tons which carried a more powerful armament,
thicker armour, fifty feet shorter and thus much handier, steamed the
same speed, and I was going to say--sailed better; but I had better
say--did not sail quite so badly; and it must ever be borne in mind
that at this transition stage in the development of the Navy, our
rulers at Whitehall insisted that our ships of all classes should have
sail power suitable to their tonnage. 'For,' said they, 'the engines
might break down, and then where would you be?'" (_Memories of the
Sea_, Admiral Penrose Fitzgerald, chap. xiv.)
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CHAPTER V
THE MIDSHIPMAN OF 1864
I wish I could convey to my readers something of the pride and delight
which a sailor feels in his ship. But who that has never had the luck
to be a deep-water sailor, can understand his joy in the noble vessel,
or the uplifting sense of his control over her matchless and splendid
power, born of a knowledge of her every rope and sail and timber, and
of an understanding of her behaviour and ability. For every ship has
her own spirit, her own personality. You may build two ships or twenty
upon the same design, line for line the same, and each will develop her
own character. As there are no two people alike, so there are no two
ships the same.
What can be more glorious than a ship getting under way? She quivers
like a sentient thing amid the whole moving tumultuous lusty life. Men
are racing aloft; other men, their feet pounding upon the white decks,
are running away with the ropes; the ringing commands and the shouting
fill the air; the wind strikes with a salt and hearty sting; and the
proud and beautiful creature rises to the lift of the sea. Doctor,
paymaster, idlers and all used to run up on deck to witness that
magnificent spectacle, a full-rigged ship getting under sail. As for
me, I blessed my luck when I returned from the _Defence_ to a sailing
ship.
The _Clio_ was a corvette pierced for 22 guns, of 1472 tons burthen,
and 400 h.p. The screw was hoisted when she was under sail, which was
nearly all the time. She was an excellent sailer, doing fourteen to
sixteen knots.
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The midshipmen's mess was so small, that there was no room for chairs.
We sat on lockers, and in order to reach the farther side, we must walk
across the table. One of our amusements in this tiny cabin was racing
cockroaches, which were numerous. We used to drop a bit of melted
tallow from a purser's dip upon their backs, plant in it a piece of
spun-yarn, light the spun-yarn, and away they would go from one end of
the table to the other. There was once a cockroach--but not in the
_Clio_--which escaped, its light still burning, and set the ship on
fire.
I began in the _Clio_ by immediately assuming that responsibility of
senior midshipman desired by Rear-Admiral Charles Eden. I purchased
the stores for the gunroom mess, expending £67, accounting for every
penny, with the most sedulous precision. We paid a shilling a day for
messing, and the stores were to supplement our miserable rations. They
were so bad that I wonder we kept our health; indeed, only the fittest
survived.
We sailed from Portsmouth in August, 1864. It was my first long
voyage. It is curious that the first week of a long voyage goes very
slowly, and the rest of the time very fast. I used to keep the first
dog watch and to relieve the officer in the morning watch. In the keen
pleasure of handling the ship--loosing sails, sheeting them home,
reefing, furling, and all the rest of the work of a sailor--I regained
all my old delight in the sea which I had lost in the _Defence_.
Keeping watch under sail required unremitting vigilance, perpetual
activity, and constant readiness. The officer of the watch must be
everywhere, with an eye to everything, forward and aft; while the
helmsman handling the wheel under the break of the poop, keeps the
weather leach just lifting.
The memory of the continuous hard work of the daily routine, makes the
sober and pleasant background to the more lively recollection of
events, which were after all but the natural reaction from the long
monotony of sea life.
It was my duty to preserve order in the gun-room; and a lively lot I
had in charge. One of the midshipmen, a {53} big fellow, was something
of a bully. He used to persecute a youngster smaller than himself, and
one day the boy came to me and asked what he could do to end the
tyranny. I thought that this particular bully was also a coward--by no
means an inevitable combination--and I advised his victim, next time he
was bullied, to hit the bully on the point of the nose as hard as he
could, and I promised that I would support him in whatever came
afterwards. He did as he was told; whereupon the bully came to me with
a complaint that a junior midshipman had struck him. I formed a ring
and put the two to settle the matter with their fists. The little boy
was a plucky youngster, and clever with his fists. He knocked out his
enemy, and had peace thereafter.
I crossed the Line for the first time. In going through the usual
ceremonies, being ducked and held under in the big tank, I was as
nearly drowned as ever in my life, being hauled out insensible. We
towed out the _Turtle_, a Government vessel, bound for Ascension with
stores. While towing, it is necessary to wear instead of tacking, for
fear of coming on top of the tow. But the first lieutenant thought he
would tack; so he tried to go about. There was a gale of wind; the
ship missed stays, and came right on top of the unfortunate _Turtle_,
dismasting and nearly sinking her. I was sent on board her to give
assistance; and I made excellent use of the opportunity to collect from
the _Turtle's_ stores many useful little ship's fittings of which the
_Clio_ was in need. We took the _Turtle_ into Ascension, where the
midshipmen landed, collected the eggs of the "wideawake" gulls, and
bottled them for future consumption.
We put in at the Falkland Islands in November. The population
consisted of ex-Royal Marines and their families. It was considered
necessary to populate the Islands; and we always send for the Royal
Marines in any difficulty. There were also South American guachos and
ranchers. The governor came on board to ask for the captain's help.
The governor wanted a man to be hanged, and his {54} trouble was that
he was afraid to hang him. The prisoner was a guacho, who had murdered
a rancher, whom he had cast into the river and then shot to death. The
governor was afraid that if he executed the murderer, the other guachos
would rise in rebellion. So he wanted the captain to bring the
murderer on board and hang him to the yard-arm. The captain refused
this request; but he offered to hang him on shore, a proposal to which
the governor agreed. The boatswain's mate piped: "Volunteers for a
hangman--fall in." To my surprise, half the ship's company fell in.
The sergeant of Marines was chosen to be executioner. He took a party
on shore, and they constructed a curious kind of box, like a wardrobe,
having a trap-door in the top, above which projected the beam. The man
dropped through the trap door into the box and was no more seen, until
the body was taken out under cover of night and buried.
The shooting on that island was naturally an intense delight to a boy
of my age. We midshipmen used to go away shooting the upland geese. I
managed to bring aboard more than the others, because I cut off the
wings, heads and necks, cleaned the birds, and secured them by toggling
the legs together, so that I was able to sling four birds over each
shoulder. The whole island being clothed in high pampas grass, it was
impossible to see one's way. Officers used to be lost in the
Falklands. The body of a paymaster who was thus lost was not
discovered for eight years. The cold induced sleep, and a sleeping man
might freeze to death.
Admiral Penrose Fitzgerald, in his _Memories of the Sea_, relating his
experience as a midshipman in the Falkland Islands, says, "Everybody
has heard of the Falkland Island geese, and they may be seen to-day in
St. James's Park. The upland geese--as they are generally called--are
excellent eating; but there are also immense numbers and different
varieties of other geese and these are known as 'kelp geese.' Alas!
our ornithological education had been so {55} sadly neglected that we
did not know the difference with the feathers on, though we soon found
it out, when we came to cook and eat them. All the birds we shot were
kelp geese, about as fishy as cormorants; but they were not wasted, for
we gave them to our Marine servants, who ate them all and declared them
to be excellent. 'Some flavour about them,' as they said."
While we lay at the Falkland Islands a merchant ship came in whose
whole company was down with scurvy. When I joined the Navy,
lime-juice, the prophylactic, was served out under the regulation; but
in the mercantile marine scurvy was still prevalent. It is a most
repulsive disease. The sufferer rots into putrid decay while he is yet
alive. If you pressed a finger upon his flesh the dent would remain.
He is so sunk in lethargy that if he were told the ship was sinking he
would decline to move. His teeth drop out and his hair falls off. It
is worthy of remembrance that the use of lime-juice as a prophylactic
was discovered, or at least largely introduced, by Captain James Cook
the navigator; whose statue, erected at Whitby, I had the privilege of
unveiling in 1912. Historically, I believe that Captain Lancaster,
commanding the _Dragon_, in the service of the Honourable East India
Company in the time of James I, was the first to cure scurvy by
administering three spoonfuls of lemon to each patient, with his
breakfast.
From the Falkland Islands we proceeded to the Straits of Magellan,
where the natives of Terra del Fuego came off to us in boats. They
were totally naked, and were smeared all over with grease. It was
snowing, and they had made a fire in the boats; and when the sea
splashed upon the fire and put it out, they beat the sea in anger with
their paddles.
At the convict settlement there used to be a box to hold mails fixed on
the top of a pole. The letters were taken on board the next ship
passing homeward bound. I posted a letter addressed to my mother, who
received it in due time.
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We dropped anchor off Port Mercy. It came on to blow a hurricane. We
had two anchors down ahead, struck lower yards and topmast, and kept
the screw moving to ease the cables. Without the aid of steam, we
should have been blown away. Even so, the captain became anxious and
decided to put out to sea. We battened down and went out under
trysails and forestaysail. Instantly we were plunged into a
mountainous sea, and the wind whipped the canvas out of us. We set
close-reefed foretopsail. A tremendous squall struck us, we shipped
water and were blown upon our beam ends. So strong was the wind that