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[Illustration: O'Kosiri, 1880.
Iron Duke. Themis. Raiden. Kerguelen. Champlain. Modeste. Naezdnik.
H.M.S. IRON DUKE AGROUND AT O'KOSIRI.]
IN EASTERN SEAS;
OR,
THE COMMISSION OF
H.M.S. "IRON DUKE,"
_Flag-ship in China_, 1878-83.
BY
J. J. SMITH, N. S.
DEVONPORT:
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY A. H. SWISS, 111 AND 112 FORE STREET.
1883.
To my late Shipmates
IN
H.M.S. "IRON DUKE,"
_The following pages are respectfully inscribed._
Those who voyage beyond sea change their climate
often, but their affections never.
PREFACE.
To write something which shall please one's own friends is one thing; to
undertake the task of pleasing anybody else is another; and, I take it,
a far more difficult one. The writer of the following pages never sought
to sail beyond the peaceful and well-marked area of the first, until
induced--at the suggestions of his shipmates, though against his better
judgment--to venture on the dark and tempest-swept ocean of the second.
The only originality claimed for the narrative is that of introducing
such a manifestly inferior production to your notice.
Shipmates, my little bark is frail; deal gently with her, and--let me
ask it as a special favor--do not blow too fiercely on her untried
sails.
Much depends on the title of a book. Does it convey an adequate idea of
the subject-matter? I would claim for mine at least that merit; for is
not every sea over which we have voyaged to the eastward of England?
CONTENTS.
Page
CHAPTER I.
We Commission our Ship--Visit Portsmouth--Prepare to Sail 1
CHAPTER II.
Good-by to Albion--Southward Ho!--Gibraltar 12
CHAPTER III.
Up the Mediterranean--Malta 26
CHAPTER IV.
Port Said--The Suez Canal--Voyage down the Red Sea--Aden 39
CHAPTER V.
Across the Indian Ocean--Ceylon--Singapore--A Cruise in
the Straits of Malacca 47
CHAPTER VI.
Sarawak--Labuan--Manilla--Heavy weather 62
CHAPTER VII.
Hong Kong--Some Chinese manners and customs 71
CHAPTER VIII.
Preparations for the North--Amoy--Wosung, and what befell
us there 83
CHAPTER IX.
Arrival at Nagasaki--Something about Japan--A run through
the Town--Visit to a Sintoo Temple 94
CHAPTER X.
The Inland Sea--Kobé--Fusi-Yama--Yokohama--Visit to
Tokio 113
CHAPTER XI.
Northward--Hakodadi--Dui--Castries Bay--Barracouta--
Vladivostock 131
CHAPTER XII.
Chefoo--Nagasaki _en route_--Japan revisited--Kobé--
Yokohama 146
CHAPTER XIII.
We attempt an overland route, with the result of the trial 159
CHAPTER XIV.
The new regime--Something about Saigon--The First Cruise
of the China Squadron--An Alarm of Fire!--Arrival of
Flying Squadron 181
CHAPTER XV.
Second Cruise of the China Squadron--Principally concerning
a Visit to the Loo-Choo Isles and Corea--Welcome news
from home--Conclusion 210
APPENDIX A.--Deaths during the Commission i.
APPENDIX B.--Table of places visited and distances run
during the Commission iii.
CHAPTER I.
"We sail the ocean blue, And our saucy ship's a beauty."
WE COMMISSION OUR SHIP. VISIT PORTSMOUTH.
PREPARE TO SAIL.
On one of those delicious semi-tropical afternoons, which geologists
tell us once bathed the whole of our island, and which even now, as
though loath to part from its one-time home, still dwells lovingly in
Devonia's summer, I wended my way to Devonport Park to feast my eyes
once again on the familiar scenes of early days. What I beheld was a
fair picture--the Hamoaze, with its burden of shapely hulls, and its
beautiful undulating shores of wood and dell, lay glittering resplendent
at my feet. So still and peaceful was it all that the din of hammers,
the whir of machinery, and the voices of men were all blended in one
most musical cadence. Scores of pleasure-boats dot the lake-like surface
of the noble sheet of water, for the most part rowed by the lusty arms
of those amphibious creatures familiarly known as "Jack Tars," recently
let loose from the dear old "Model" or the equally dear "Academy." A
voice, bell-like and clear--surely that of a girl--invited my closer
attention; and yes, there she is! and not one only, but many ones,--one
in each boat, whom Jack is initiating into that wonderfully difficult
branch of navigation--a sailor's courtship!
Now, whatever anybody else may say to the contrary, I hold that the
British tar would scarcely be the "soaring soul" that he is were it not
for the influence--not always a beneficial influence, by the way, of the
softer sex. And here, a word for him with special respect to what people
are pleased to call his inconstancy. With all his vagaries, and from the
very nature of his calling he has many, I think there are few other
professions which would bear weighing in the balance with his and not be
found as wanting in this quality. True, none is so easily swayed, so
easily led; but the fault is not his, _that_ must be laid at the doors
of those who compel England's sailors to a forced banishment for long
periods of years, in lands where it is impossible the home influences
can reach them. Is it a matter of much wonderment, then, if he is swayed
by the new and intoxicating forms which pleasure takes in those
far-distant climes where the eye of Mrs. Grundy never penetrates?
A somewhat curious way in which to commence my narrative, say you? I
think so too, on re-reading it; but with your permission, I will not
dash my pen through it.
Let me, however, make sail and get under way with my yarn.
Cast we our eyes outward once again, beyond the boats with their
beautiful coxswains--I mean _hen_-swains--to where that huge glistening
iron mass floats proudly on the main. Reader, that object is the
heroine, if I may so say, of this very unromantic story. She is in
strange contrast with the numerous wooden veterans around her--relics
of Old England's fighting days. I thought as I gazed on that splendid
ship that, had I my choice, nothing would suit me better than to go to
sea in her.
A month has passed; it is the 4th of July, in the year of grace 1878,
and my wish is likely to be consummated, for I find myself on this
morning, with several hundreds of others, taking a short trip across the
harbour to the "Iron Duke," for so is she named, corrupted by irreverent
mariners into the "Irish Duke."
We skip lightly up the side, or through the ports, bundling boxes, bags,
and hats unceremoniously through anywhere; and find ourselves, though
not without sundry knocks and manifold bruises, standing on the
quarter-deck.
With a few exceptions we are all West-countrymen, undoubted "dumplings"
and "duff-eaters"--at least, so say our East-country friends, though
experience has taught me, and probably many of my readers too, that at
demolishing a plum pudding the east is not a whit behind the west; in
that particular we all betray a common English origin.
Though our ship's company is, seemingly, young, very young, the men are
growing, and lusty and strong: and bid fair, ere the end of our
commission, to develope into the ideal British sailor. A stranger,
perhaps, would be struck with their youthful appearance; for strangers,
especially if they be midland men, have an idea that a sailor is a hairy
monster, but once removed from a gorilla or a baboon; and if we accept
the relationship to these candated gentry, I don't think his ideas would
be far out--say a dozen years since. But these terrible monsters are all
now enjoying their well-earned pensions in rural quiet, leaving to the
youngsters of this generation the duty of supplying their places in
that great fighting machine--the navy.
The sailor of to-day possesses, at least, one decided advantage over his
brother of the past. In the olden days--not so very olden either--if one
man in a ship's company could read and write a letter he was considered
a genius; now a sailor is, comparatively, an educated man: and if one is
to be found who cannot read and write well, and accomplish far more
abstruse things with his head, he is dubbed--a donkey. He is not now the
debauched ignoramus which has made the English sailor a proverb all over
the world. Education is of little value if it is not capable of changing
a man's habits for the better. There is, however, much room for
improvement in certain national traits; _apropos_ of this, the "Mail"
for September, 20th, 1880, lies before me, wherein the writer, in a
leading article, after giving a description of the combined squadron at
Gravosa, goes on to say, "It is amusing to find that the traditional
impression of an Englishman prevails so largely at Gravosa, Ragrusa,
&c., namely, that he is always drunk, or has just been drunk, or is on
the point of being drunk." Great, though, was the surprise of the honest
Ragusans when they discovered that their estimate of that erratic
creature was at variance with the testimony of their experience of him;
for the writer further adds, "The conduct of our men ashore, the neat,
clean appearance they present, and their orderly and _sober_ behaviour
has been much commented on."
But this is a digression--let me bring to the wind again. At the time of
our arrival on board neither the captain nor the commander had joined.
The first lieutenant was, however, awaiting us on the quarter-deck, and
who, with the promptness of an old sailor, allowed no time to be
wasted, but proceeded at once with the work of stationing his crew.
At length every man knows his place on the watch-bill, and we hurry off
to the lower deck to look after our more private affairs.
It needs not that I enter into a long and dry description of the
peculiar construction of our ship, of the guns she carries, or how she
is fitted out. You yourselves are far more qualified to do that than I
am. After just a cursory glance at these particulars we see about
getting some "_panem_," especially as a most delectable odour from the
lower regions assails our nostrils, betraying that that indispensable
gentleman, the ship's cook, has lavished all his art on the production
of a sailor's dinner. "Man is mortal," so we yield to the temptation,
especially as we are awfully hungry--when is a sailor not so? Few meals
present so much food for wonderment to the landsman as does a sailor's
first dinner on board a newly-commissioned ship; all is hurry, bustle,
and apparently hopeless confusion. Bags and hammocks lie about just
where they ought not to lie; ditty boxes are piled anywhere, and
threatening instant downfall; whilst one has to wade knee-deep through a
whole sea of hats to reach a place at the tables.
A jostling, animated, good-natured throng is this multitude of seamen,
intent on satisfying nature's first demand; for dinner is the only meal,
properly so called, a sailor gets. Nor does it matter much, though the
ship's steward has not yet issued a single utensil out of which we can
dine; such a slight annoyance is not likely to inconvenience men who, in
most things, are as primitive in their mode of living as were our
progenitors in the garden of story. Bear in mind, the object we have in
view is to clear those tables of their frugal burdens--hunks of boiled
beef, absolutely nothing else. What, then, though there be no elaborate
dinner service, so long as the end is attained, and that it is, and in
the most satisfactory and expeditious manner, with scrupulous neatness
and perfect finish, our friends from the shore must bear witness.
A few words, ere we fall to, descriptive of the lower deck, which serves
us for "kitchen, parlour, and all." What an altitude between the decks!
Can it be that those concerns up there are meant for the stowage of
boxes and hats? And see, too, this systematic arrangement of bars,
transverse and upright, is it possible they are anything naval? Their
office, though, becomes apparent when we reflect that there are no
hooks, as in wooden ships, for the hammocks. In this iron age we have
advanced a step, and even sailors can now boast of having posts to their
beds. For the rest, the tables are large and at a comfortable distance
apart; the ports admit a cheerful amount of light and a wholesome supply
of air; and--but there goes the pipe "to dinner," so I will pipe down.
A telegram had been received during the forenoon, announcing that the
captain would join us further on in the day; and accordingly, at about 4
p.m., he arrived. A tall, rather slight made man is our future chief,
upright as an arrow, and with an eye such as one sees in men born to
command men. His reputation comes with him in that vague semi-mysterious
manner--such news does travel--and we hear he is a strict "service"
officer, and an excellent seaman--good qualities both, and such as the
generality of man-of-war's men raise no objection to. Withal we are
told he is "smart," meaning, of course, that there must be no shirking
of duty, no infringement of the regulations with him. His reputation, I
say, came with him, it stuck to him, and left with him. With the
captain's arrival our first day on board came to an end.
On the 6th the commander joined. In appearance he is the direct
antithesis of the captain, being stout, well knit, and of medium
height--the ideal Englishman of the country gentleman type--bluff and
hearty, and with a face as cheerful as the sun.
Let us now pass rapidly over the few intervening days, and start afresh
from July 17th. So much energy and determination had been displayed by
all hands, that long before most ships have half thought about the
matter we were ready for sea. In the short space of twelve days, so far
as we were concerned, we were quite capable of voyaging to the
moon--given a water-way by which to reach her, especially with such a
chief as "Energetic H." at the helm.
On the morning of the 17th, there being nothing further to detain us in
Hamoaze, steam was got up, and ere long we were leaving, for a few
years, the old and familiar "Cambridge" and "Impregnable," the one-time
homes of so many amongst us; and bidding king "Billy" and his royal
consort a long good bye! until Devil's Point hides from us a picture
many of us were destined never to behold again.
Ere long the booming of our heavy guns, as we saluted the admiral,
announced that we had dropped our anchor for the first time in the
Sound.
After testing speed on the measured mile, powder and shell, and other
explosives, were got on board and safely stowed, though it would appear
that the engineer authorities were not satisfied with the results of the
steam trial. A second trial was therefore deemed necessary, and on this
occasion a sort of fête was made of it; for numbers of officials and
un-officials, with their lady friends, came on board to witness the
result. The day was beautifully fine, and the trip a really enjoyable
one--the cruising ground lying between the Start and Fowey.
July 22nd.--The "long-expected" come at last, namely, the admiral's
inspection.
There is a purely nautical proverb, or, at any rate, one which is so
common amongst sailors, that it may be considered as such, which says
"Live to-day live for ever;" one of those expressions which, somehow,
everybody knows the meaning of, but which none seem to be able to render
intelligible. Well, this idea is peculiarly applicable to admirals'
visits; for if one can manage to live through such an atmosphere of
bustle and worry, such rushing and tearing, such anxiety of mind, and
such alacrity of movement as follows in the train of the great man, then
surely existence at any other time and under any other conditions is an
easy matter.
It was with peculiar feelings, then, that we received the august Sir
Thomas, over our gangway. Nor were these feelings modified by the
knowledge that Admiral Symonds is a thorough old "salt," a tar of the
old school; and, as such, is, of course, _au fait_ with the weak points
in a ship's cleanliness and manoeuvring. His inspection was, I believe,
extremely satisfactory.
We hoped that with the departure of the admiral we should have been
permitted to land earlier this evening, as a sort of reward for our late
exertions, especially as we have not seen our homes and families by
daylight for some considerable period. Imagine, then, our feelings when
a signal was thrown out at Mount-Wise that we were to perform some
evolution, which would consume all the remaining hours of light. But the
little cherub on the royal truck, which, according to Dibdin, is perched
at that commanding altitude, especially to look out that squalls don't
happen to Jack, came to console us in the--at other times
unwelcome--shape of a deluge of rain. Thus we got ashore earlier,
though, as a set-off against so much happiness, wetter men.
On July 26th orders came that we were to proceed to Portsmouth, to take
in our armament of torpedoes, and in a few hours the Start was growing
small astern as we took our way up channel. We were only a night at sea,
but that a dirty one--not rough, but foggy--such as one usually
encounters in this great commercial highway. Early on the following
morning the Isle of Wight lay abeam, and the view from the sea was most
lovely: the white cliffs of the island, packed in layers like slices of
cake, presenting a learned page out of the book of nature to the
curious. In passing Sandown Bay we caught a distant view of the
operations for raising the "Eurydice." Our thoughts naturally took a
melancholy turn, for many of us had lost comrades--some few, friends--in
that ill-fated ship. But I think one of the leading characteristics of
the sailor is the ease with which he throws off melancholy at will. The
fact is, he encounters danger so frequently, and in so many varied
shapes and forms, that if he put on depressing thoughts every time he is
brought face to face with it, then he would be for ever clothed in that
garb.
With a pausing tribute to the dead, and many a silent prayer,
perhaps--for sailors can and do pray--we steamed into Spithead,
forgetting, in all probability, the Eurydice and all connected with her.
As our torpedoes were all ready for us, it was not long before they were
on board and fitted in their places. Our ship was not originally
intended to carry these murderous weapons, so it was necessary to pierce
ports in her sides, two forward and two aft, that they may be
discharged. The staff of the torpedo school brought with them twelve of
these novel fighting machines, at a cost of about £300 each, though £500
is the price paid to Whitehead's firm at Fiume; but as the English
Government has the authority, with certain limitations, themselves to
manufacture the torpedo, they cost England the former price.
After a short trial of the discharging gear outside the circular forts
we shook hands with the land of smoked haddock and sour bread, and
trimmed sails for the west, reaching the Sound by the following morning,
when coaling lighters attached themselves to us before you could say
Jack Robinson.
Work is again the order of the day; for coaling a large iron-clad over
all means some exertion I can assure you. It is most unpleasant work,
nevertheless it has to be done, so we set to work with a will. Dirty as
the ship was, and dirty as we all were, from the copious showers of
diamond dust falling everywhere, yet nothing could daunt our friends
from paying us the usual dinner-hour visit.
It was a curious spectacle to witness that farewell visit, to see coal
begrimed men coming up from below, reeking with sweat, to clasp the fair
hand of a mother, to snatch a kiss from the soft cheek of a sister or
sweetheart, or to feel the lingering embrace of a wife.
"Then the rough seamen's hands they wring;
And some, o'erpowered with bursting feeling,
Their arms around them wildly fling,
While tears down many a cheek are stealing."