The Channel Fleet has at length visited our Roads, much to the
gratification of thousands of the Queen’s lieges, as well as to the
galling disappointment of thousands of the same excellent body. The
squadron came in in the open day, clear to the gaze of multitudes,
but disappeared like a majestic phantom in the night. A little more
than a week ago we were informed that the Channel Fleet had, after an
anchorage of sixteen days in St. Margaret’s Hope, Frith of Forth,
left its moorings under canvas, with auxiliary steam power, and
proceeded down the Frith and out to sea, destined for the Yarmouth
Roads. As we stated in our last impression, the consequence of that
information being diffused was to put all the speculators and
quidnuncs of the town and neighbourhood on the alert. Leaving St.
Margaret’s Hope on the Saturday, the fleet would certainly, it was
argued, be here on the Tuesday, on which day the Marine Parade and
the Beach were literally swarmed with expectant people, whose glasses
were searching the waters in every direction; but, owing either to
the perversity of Admiral Neptune, the weather office, or the
Vice-Admiral in command (who is admitted by everyone to be a pleasant
and courteous gentleman), the fleet did not arrive. Much
disappointment and innumerable prophecies followed, and while some
knowing individuals averred positively, and “on undoubted authority”
that the fleet had passed and would not come in here, others were
equally confident, on the strength of telegrams and “unquestionable
information,” that the great ships would be seen, on the “next
flood.” As, however, they put in no appearance up to Friday evening,
the conviction that they had omitted us began to be pretty general,
especially when “undoubted authority” satisfied us that the squadron
had been seen some distance to the south of this port, namely, in the
Wold. A few persons held out, notwithstanding their belief that the
ships would visit us, and were stirring early on Saturday morning to
catch the latest intelligence, when lo! the rumour spread that the
fleet was in sight. People began hurrying to the Beach, which,
between 8 and 10 o’clock a.m. presented, as to throng and bustle, an
appearance equal to that of Tuesday, with the single exception that
the fair sex had not had time to put on the gay attire in which they
looked so well on that day. As the Royal Albert, three decker, flag
ship of Vice-Admiral Freemantle, came in sight, the cry was, “There
they are!” and as the magnificent vessel steamed up into the gat
there appeared something so triumphant and majestic in her appearance
as to make every one who saw her feel proud of the “wooden walls,”
which have so long defied all the enemies of Old England. Britannia
from the top of the lofty pedestal in front of the gatway might look
down with pride upon the splendid ship which marched in stately
grandeur “o’er the mountain waves.” The Royal Albert was seen to be
followed by a long dark line of smoke, and every few minutes other
great ships came in sight moving apparently with ease and
controllable but irresistible force. As the flagship came through
the gat of St. Nicholas, the dense masses of people who lined the
shore expressed in a variety of forms their admiration of the
dimensions and commanding aspect of this great three decker. The
seafaring people looked at the matter with a professional eye, and
amongst them might frequently be heard such expressions as “Old
Rounce (the Gorleston pilot) is bringing her in stunnin!” On came
the great ship,—as gracefully and as gently as a swan would move upon
the surface of an untroubled lake,—until she was surprisingly near
the shore for a ship of her size. She then glided round in a most
beautiful manner, as if looking for the best place to drop her
anchor, a point which was soon decided, when it was found that she
was in about an exact line with the Victoria Hotel. The sight in the
gatway had now become grand in the extreme, as all the line of battle
ships were in sight, moving majestically forward by the aid of power
unseen, while the flagship was actively engaged in signalling to the
various ships as they came up as to the respective positions they
were to take. The ships seemed to be managed with perfect ease, and
could be turned or moved in any direction with surprising celerity.
The scene while they were taking up their positions and dropping
their anchors was beautiful and will not soon be forgotten by those
who saw it.
The Locust, steam tender, had arrived in the Roads previously, and
the ships that arrived with the Royal Albert, which has 121 guns, and
carries 1,100 men, were the Edgar, 91, flagship of the Rear-Admiral
Erskine, the Mersey frigate, 40; the Donegal, 101; the Trafalgar, 91;
the Conqueror, the Centurion, the Mars, the Diadem, the Algiers, the
Aboukir, and the Greyhound corvette, 17, acting as tender to the
Royal Albert. The fleet anchored in two lines, and presented a most
gratifying spectacle to the inhabitants, who felt what a security it
must be in a time of war, while at the same time they could not
refrain from reflecting on the terrible havoc that must be committed
were those quiet-looking ships to unbosom their thunders, and vent
their indignation upon the town for a space of about five minutes.
Soon after the Vice-Admiral’s flag ship had anchored, the Volunteer
Artillery fired a salute of 15 guns, but owing to the regulations of
the service, the ship was precluded from returning the compliment.
The band of the Artillery subsequently played on the Drive, and gave
a festive character to the morning. Reports rapidly got afloat as to
how long the fleet would stay, some contending that it would not go
till Wednesday, as the Admiral and officers had accepted an
invitation to a ball which the Mayor purposed giving at the Town Hall
on Tuesday evening; while, on the other hand, it was asserted that
the fleet would depart in the course of the night, as during the day
they received five or six despatches from the Admiralty, and thus
disappoint the thousands who it was expected would come into the town
by rail on Sunday. Neither of the predictions turned out to be true.
Had the ships not been detained at sea by the contrary winds, which
caused them to keep steam up even to the last, they would have been
here for four or five days. Before coming in they had for two or
three days been within 60 miles of us, trying to reach here with
their sails alone. They had not been long at anchor before sundry
mariners and bare-footed frolicsome and reckless tars, were seen
ashore, lugging away immense baskets of fresh bread, butter, &c., and
diversifying this duty by fraternising with as many of the girlhood
of the place as they happened to come in contact with. The Blue
Jackets are decided favourites ashore, and few people seem disposed
to prevent them doing as they please. It would give great
satisfaction to the inhabitants of this town, if, in their annual
cruises, the Channel Squadron would occasionally drop in here, for we
are sure that their present visit, besides being advantageous to the
town, will obtain many seamen; for who would wander about in a rotten
and miserable old collier when he might lead a worthy and a jolly
life amongst excellent fellows, on board a floating tower and mansion
equal to the most convenient and best regulated establishments
ashore? It is a long time since a fleet was seen in our Roads,
although there is probably no point upon the coast where so much
shipping passes as this. The last fleet that was in the Roads was in
1810, under the command of Admiral Somers, whose flagship was the
Victory (Nelson’s old ship), and that fleet passed here on its way to
the Baltic, the ports of which it was going to blockade. There were
then in the fleet besides the Admiral’s ship of 98 guns, the
Formidable, 98; the St. George, 98; the Dreadnought, 98, now a
hospital ship, and a number of 74’s, making together fourteen sail,
some of which were with Admiral Sir John Ross, at the blockade of
Dantzic, in 1812 (and frozen up there in 1813). In 1801, Nelson was
in here on his way to Copenhagen, and in 1807, Admiral Gambier’s
fleet was bound for the same place, and sailing hence fetched in the
ships and stores of the Danes. In the time of those fleets, the
North Sea and Baltic Pilots of this port were of great service—a
class of men of whom, we believe, only one remains. His name is
Richard Webb. He was frozen up in the Baltic in 1812, while acting
as pilot (wintered there during the burning of Moscow), and was
altogether engaged for 15 years in piloting government vessels in the
wars of that time, important services for which the old boy alleges
he has received nothing but unfulfilled promises from the “great
guns” aloft. One would think that an old sailor who had served in
the “battle and the breeze” for so long a period, and in such
momentous times, ought to have received some substantial recognition
of his services.
The fleet and the officers and men from it who came ashore during the
day have been closely scrutinized and gazed at, parties having been
on board the flagship, it became a question of interest as to what
they would do at night. At sunset a gun was fired from the Admiral’s
ship, at the sound of which, as if by magic, the flags dropped from
the stern of every vessel at the same instant, though the topyards
did not go down as was expected. That was about half-past eight
o’clock, and at nine bang went another gun from the Admiral’s ship
followed by the rattle of musketry on board the others, and seamen
said, ‘There’s the old Admiral a-fallen down the main hatchway,’ that
being the correct nautical form of indicating that the hands were
ordered to ‘turn in.’ At about the same time lights were shown in
front and at the sterns of the ships, producing a brilliant and
lively spectacle, taken in conjunction with the hundreds of lights on
small craft lying at anchor, and as shown by the screw colliers which
were ever and anon passing through the fleet and flowing out dark
volumes of smoke. With Saturday Mr. Swann’s contract to supply beef
at 4½d. per lb., luckily for him, expired, and he agreed, we believe,
to execute the orders of the fleet at 6½d.
Sunday morning, as had been anticipated by the Yarmouth innkeepers
and others, brought an immense number of people into the town, the
trains from Norwich being very lengthy. The weather was fine, and as
the fleet still remained in the Roads, there was every prospect of
enjoyment. As the excursionists came into the town they proceeded,
after refreshing the inner man at the earliest opportunity, either to
the beach or on board the three steamers of Fill and Co. (Chesapeake,
Volunteer and Florence Nightingale), which were ready, as soon as
filled, to start for a journey round the fleet. The Chesapeake was
the first to start, and as she steamed down the harbour the
excursionists had a good view of the quays and shipping, and also of
the hamlet of Gorleston. As soon as the bar was crossed, the great
ships were all plainly visible, their sides bristling with guns, and
alive with seamen, who, on the visitors approaching, exchanged a few
friendly shouts with them. From the middle of the two lines in which
they were moored, the ships had a noble and awe-inspiring effect upon
those who had not before seen such wonders of the sea—they were, in
fact, so many towers of strength filled with dauntless warriors. The
Mersey, the smartest, the swiftest, and most powerful frigate of the
fleet, was greatly admired, as was also the Royal Albert, and many
thought—
“How proud must be our Admiral
Of such a bonny barque.”
Officers and men were at nearly all parts of the ship, and cordially
invited the excursionists to go on board, an offer which the steamer
declined, out of regard to the safety of the passengers. Small
pleasure boats from the beach, however, were running to the fleet in
large numbers, cutting and plunging through the sea that might have
made some persons timid. The steamers disembarked their freight at
the Britannia Pier (which found Sunday the most prosperous day of its
existence) and continued throughout the day to run to and from that
Pier without intermission. Indeed, in the afternoon the Britannia
Pier, which was crowded almost from end to end, presented a
remarkable spectacle. The beef, potatoes, and greens for the fleet
were brought to the pier-head in carts, and were stacked for
conveyance to the ships in the ships’ boats. The sailors, amongst
whom was the usual per centage of black fellows, tossed the beef and
cabbages into the boats in a manner not at all ceremonious, and one
quarter to a certainty, though some say three or four, was pitched
into Davey Jones’s locker. This scene of conveying away the carcases
of about 60 bullocks (so the number was stated, though we think over
the mark), of a few sheep, and goodness only knows how many cabbages
and loaves, was very interesting to the public, and kept the pier
crowded with spectators till six or seven o’clock. There was in the
afternoon and evening the largest assemblage of people on the parade
and beach that the oldest inhabitant remembers to have seen in the
town, and it was not till a late hour that the last disappeared. The
effect of so many strangers being in the town was to effect an entire
demolition of most of the eatable stores in the hands of the
innkeepers; and it is sufficient to say that a great thirst
prevailed. The Jacks and officers who were ashore in some force in
the afternoon preferred wandering into the town and outskirts; and
the former, who as a rule were shoeless, seemed to pick up a good
deal of fun. Besides the usual mode of conveyance of pouring in
visitors, we observed several original vehicles from the country
arrive in the afternoon, laden to excess and to the evident
inconvenience of the passengers. The day passed off so well that the
majority of the inhabitants retired, hoping, we have no doubt, that
the Channel Fleet might remain a week. Sinister rumours, however,
were at work, and some fears were secretly entertained. Great bags
of letters had been taken from and sent to the Post Office, and
report was that despatches had been received ordering the fleet off
to Spithead at once.
When the general bulk of the population awoke on Monday morning,
alas! the fleet—with the exception of the Mars, which had lost an
anchor and was waiting to endeavour to regain it—were off! They left
us between five and six o’clock; and many have a firm opinion that
the Mars was detained by some Providential influence, so that the
thousands of excursionists who came in on Monday, in the hope of
seeing the Channel Fleet, might not be utterly disappointed. May a
British Fleet honour us again with its presence, at the earliest
opportunity.
The following Commissions had been issued:—“Great Yarmouth Rifle
Volunteer Corps—Frederick Palmer, Esq., to be Surgeon; Henry Ralph Nevill
to be Hon. Chaplain.”
The trident had been struck by lightning from the hand of Britannia on
the Nelson Column.
July 7th.—The “Good Samaritan” Lodge, M.U.O.F., had voted £5 5s. to the
Fishermen’s Fund.
Mr. Job Smith had presided at a Working Man’s Reform Meeting, held in
Crowe’s Assembly Rooms.
July 21st.—The Fisherman’s Widows and Orphans’ Fund exceeded £7,300.
The new building for the Sailors’ Home was progressing rapidly.
“The hot weather had brought large numbers of excursionists to the
sea-side.”
July 25th.—The Donegal Militia had left the town for Ireland, where they
were to be disembodied.
Aug. 1st.—“Benjamin Hollis, a fine young man belonging to the Artillery
Volunteers,” had been buried with Military honours.
Aug. 4th.—The 3rd and 4th Companies of the Rifle Volunteers had appeared
for the first time in uniform.
A “young lady about twenty years of age had disappeared” at the same time
as the Militia left the town.
Aug. 8th.—At the Water Frolic the “Iris” won the cutter match, and the
“Enchantress” the latteen match.
“A reward of £100 had been offered for the apprehension of John D.
Chapman, late of this town.”