The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
had happened, until the drill was ended, when he hopped down to the
sick bay. He was as quick as ever after the accident; and the sailors
called him Ninepin Jack.
Another old topmate, Mr. S. D. Sharp, writing to me in 1909, when I
hauled down my flag, says:--"I was proud of the old _Marlborough_ and
her successor up the Straits, the _Victoria_. They were a noble sight
in full sail with a stiff breeze. No doubt the present fleet far
excels the old wooden walls, but the old wooden walls made sailors.
But sailors to-day have to stand aside for engine-men. Going round
Portsmouth dockyard some few years since, I was very sad to see the
noble old Marlborough a hulk" (she is now part of H.M.S. _Vernon_
Torpedo School), "laid aside, as I expect we all shall be in time" (Mr.
Sharp is only between seventy and eighty years of age). "I am doubtful
if there are many men in the Navy to-day who would stand bolt upright
upon the royal truck of a line-of-battle ship. I was one of those who
did so. Perhaps a foolish practice. But in those days fear never came
our way."
There speaks the Old Navy.
When a ship was paid off out of Malta Harbour, it was the custom that
there should be a man standing erect on each of the trucks, main, mizen
and fore. Many a time have I seen these men balanced more than 200
feet in the air, strip off their shirts and wave them. And once I saw
a man holding to the vane-spindle set in the truck, and I saw the
spindle break in his hand, and the man fall....
In the course of my experience, I have seen a man fall off the
main-royal yard, be caught in the belly of the mainsail slip down the
sail, catch the second reef-line with his {26} legs, and hold on until
a topmate ran aloft with a bowline and saved him.
I have seen a man fall off the maintopsail yard, and be caught in the
bight of the mainsheet in the main rigging, and run aloft again. And
this was at sea.
And several times I have seen a man fall from aloft to be dashed to
pieces upon the deck.
One of the closest escapes I have ever had occurred aloft in the
_Marlborough_. Being midshipman of the mizenroyal, I was furling the
sail, leaning forward upon the yard, gathering in the canvas, my feet
braced backward upon the footrope, when another midshipman, leaping
upon the footrope, accidentally knocked it from under my feet. For two
or three seconds I hung by the tips of my fingers, which were pressed
against the jackstay of the mizen-royal yard (the rope running taut
along the top of the yard to which the sail is bent) under which I
could not push my fingers, and then, at the last moment, I found the
footrope again. I have never forgotten my feelings, when I saw certain
death approaching while my feet were clawing about for the footrope.
When the hands were turned out to bathe, John Glanville, chief
boatswain's mate, would go up to the main-yard, stand with one foot on
the yard and the other on the preventive braceblock, and thence take a
header. The height was between 50 and 60 feet. Once he struck the sea
sideways, and was injured, so that he was never quite the same man
afterwards. But any other man would have been killed.
On another occasion, when the ship was hove-to for the hands to bathe,
the captain of the forecastle hauled the jib sheet aft, and the ship
began to glide away from the officers and men, myself among them, in
the water. Luckily all got on board again.
In the spirit of emulation, I fell into deserved disgrace at
sail-drill. In order to be first in the evolution, I secretly unbent
the foretopgallant sheet before the men arrived at the masthead.
Another midshipman did likewise at the {27} main. He was Arthur
Gresley, one of the smartest midshipmen aloft, and one of the best oars
in the Service, a splendid, cheery, chivalrous, noble-minded lad. We
were discovered; and, before all the men, we were ordered down on deck,
and were severely reprimanded for having endeavoured to gain an unfair
advantage, thereby staining the character of a ship justly noted for
her scrupulous fair play. I was taken out of my top, deprived of the
command of my boat, and disrated to cadet; and I had serious thoughts
of ending a ruined career by jumping overboard. I have never been so
genuinely unhappy before or since. But upon the following day I was
rated up again, and replaced in my top and my boat.
At first in the _Marlborough_ I was midshipman of the mizentop, and in
charge of the jolly-boat. The midshipman in charge of a boat learned
how to handle men. As he was away from the ship with them for long
periods, he was forced to understand them and to discover how to treat
them, thus learning the essential elements of administration. As all
my delight was in seamanship, I contrived to miss a good deal of
school. It was not difficult, when the naval instructor desired my
presence, to find a good reason for duty with my boat. I was
afterwards midshipman of the foretop, and when I was promoted from the
jolly-boat to the second pinnace, and to the command of the first
subdivision of the three-pounder division of field-guns for landing,
being placed in charge of one three-pounder gun, I thought I was an
emperor.
We used to land with the guns for field-battery exercises, setting
Marine sentries all round to prevent the men getting away to drink.
Returning on board, we used to race down the Calcara Hill at Malta to
the harbour. On one occasion, we were going so fast that we couldn't
turn the gun round the corner, and gun and all toppled over the wharf
into the water.....
I fell into another scrape in excess of zeal for marksmanship. We used
to practise aiming with rifles and {28} muzzle-loading Enfields, the
Service rifle of that day. We fired percussion caps without charges,
at little bull's-eyes painted on a strip of canvas, which was stretched
along the bulwarks below the hammock-nettings. The marksman stood on
the opposite side of the deck. Another midshipman and myself contrived
to fire a couple of caps as projectiles, which of course entered the
woodwork behind the targets, making dreadful holes. This appalling
desecration, involving the fitting in of new planking, was discovered
by the commander, Brandreth. His rage was justifiable. We were stood
on the bitts, and also mastheaded.
Captain Houston Stewart used to fish from the stern gallery when the
ship was at anchor. He tied his line to the rail, and went back into
his cabin, returning every few minutes to see if he had a fish.
Beneath the stern gallery opened the ports of the gunroom. With a
hooked stick I drew in his line, attached a red herring to the hook,
dropped it in again, and when the captain came to feel his line I
jerked it. He hauled it up in a hurry. Instantly after, he sent for
all the midshipmen; and, for some reason or other, he picked me out at
once.
"_You_ did that, Beresford," he said. "Most impertinent! Your leave
will be stopped."
Next day, however, he let me off.
Among the most delightful incidents were the boat-races. It was before
the time when fleet regattas were instituted. What happened was that a
boat would row round from their ship, to the ship they wished to race,
and toss oars under her bows in sign of a challenge. Then the boat's
crew of the challenged ship would practise with intense assiduity until
they felt they were fit to meet the enemy. The bitterest feeling was
aroused. Even the crews of "chummy ships" could not meet without
fighting. Hundreds of pounds were wagered on the event. In the
_Marlborough_ we had the cutter, _Black Bess_, specially built for
racing. Her stroke was John Glanville, the gigantic boatswain's mate,
who, when I joined the ship, told Dicky {29} Horne, the quartermaster,
that I was not likely to live long. He was the son of Ann Glanville,
the redoubtable West country woman who pulled stroke in the crew of
Saltash women that raced and beat a crew of Frenchmen at Cherbourg,
under the eyes of the Queen, the Prince Consort, the Emperor Napoleon
III., and the British and French navies. That notable victory was won
in 1858, when Queen Victoria, accompanied by the Prince Consort,
visited Napoleon III. The Queen and the Prince sailed in H.M.S.
_Victoria and Albert_, escorted by a squadron of men-of-war. They were
received by the French Navy. After the race, the Queen invited the
Saltash women on board the Royal yacht. Later in life, it was my
privilege to remove anxiety concerning her livelihood from fine old
Mrs. Glanville.
I steered the _Black Bess_, and we beat the two best boats in the
Fleet; and then we were challenged by the _St. George_. The _St.
George_ had taken the upper strake off her boat to make her row easier.
Now the stroke of the _St. George_ was George Glanville, brother to
John, and of the same formidable weight and size. The race was rowed
in Malta Harbour, over a 3½-mile course, and we were beaten. We could
not understand it; but beaten we were. That night George Glanville
came aboard the _Marlborough_ with a bag containing some £300 the money
put up to cover the stakes. George came to receive the stakes, and
according to custom he brought the cover-money to show that all was
above-board. To him came John his brother; and scarce a word was said
ere the two big men were fighting furiously, the bag of gold on the
deck beside them. They were torn apart with difficulty. Nor could the
respective crews be landed together for a long time afterwards. Next
year we beat the _St. George_.
When we lay in Corfu Harbour, the _Marlborough_ was challenged by a
crew of artillerymen. It was I think on this occasion that John
Glanville headed a deputation to me, asking me to be the coxswain.
{30}
"Well, sir," he said, "it's like this here, sir, if you'll pardon me.
Yew be young-like, and what we was thinking was whether you have the
power of language that du be required."
I said I would do my best. I did. I astonished myself. As for the
artillerymen, they rowed themselves right under. There was a little
seaway, and they rowed the boat under and there they were struggling in
the water.
"What! Yew bain't never going to pick 'em up?" cried John Glanville,
in the heat of his excitement.
I also rowed bow-oar in the officers' boat, the second cutter. I was
young and small, but I had great staying power. I could go on rowing
for ever.
When my leave was stopped--which did occur occasionally--I had a system
by means of which I went ashore at night. I lashed a hammock-lashing
round the port stern-ring, crawled out of the stern port, lowered
myself to the water, and swam to a shore boat, waiting for me by
arrangement. Maltese boats are partly covered in, and I dressed in a
spare suit of clothes. On one occasion, upon landing, I nearly--but
not quite--ran into the arms of the commander.
One night I went ashore, taking a painter and two men. We lowered the
painter over the edge of the cliff, and he inscribed on the cliff in
immense letters, "'Marlborough,' Star of the Mediterranean." Next
morning the whole Fleet, not without emotion, beheld the legend.
Another brilliant wit went ashore on the following night and altered
the word "Star" into "Turtle." My reply was the addition "Until the
'Queen' comes out." After this exploit I was sent ashore to clean the
cliff.
There were numerous horses in Malta, and the midshipmen and bluejackets
used to hire them for half-a-crown a day. When the horses had had
enough of their riders, they used to gallop down to the Florian Gate,
kick them off, and return to their stable. I heard one sailor remark
to another, {31} who, sticking to his horse, was bounding up and down
in his saddle:
"Get off that there 'orse, Jack, 'e's a beast!"