HOMEWARD BOUND
Homeward Bound! All our stores which we borrowed from Halifax were
transferred to the 'Pelican' for her to return. We left St. John's
harbour one Sunday evening en route to Plymouth. The crews of the
'Buzzard' and 'Pelican' hailed us 'farewell' as we slowly steamed
away from our moorings, and crowds of people gathered on the wharfs
to witness our departure. The paying-off pennant was streaming far
astern, and every heart felt glad to see it. It was a sign of
something beyond expression. Just one more look at the city, a
hastening glance at our two companion ships, and we had cleared the
harbour. In an hour the land was lost to view, and we were in a dense
fog, ploughing the deep, bound for Old England. The wind proving
favourable, plain sail was made, and for the next five days we made
rapid headway. On the sixth day the wind veered round to the opposite
quarter, and in consequence sails were furled, and our speed
decreased. However, we were able to make sail again on the ninth day.
What was my intense joy when on the morning of the eleventh day the
man on the look-out shouted "Eddystone Lighthouse off the port bow,
sir!" This delightful cry had almost the same effect as if the
boatswain's mate had piped, "Clear lower deck," as nearly all hands
rushed on deck. Breakfast was piped shortly afterwards, but only a
scanty number went below to partake of it. I stood entranced with the
old familiar scenes which were now becoming more and more visible; in
fact, I cannot tell what feelings took possession of me. I have often
since felt that the three years' separation from home and loved ones
were compensated by the joy of home-coming.
Yes, there was Maker Tower--the last object I beheld when leaving
Plymouth in the 'Himalaya' three years before. Nearer and nearer we
sailed until all the surroundings became distinct. Rame Head was
passed, then Penlee Point, and now the Breakwater Lighthouse loomed
in sight.
"Clear lower deck! Hands shorten and furl sail!" was the order. "Come
along, lads, it is the last time," said some sympathetic voices.
The guns were made ready for saluting the Admiral and the Port. Then,
having anchored, the salute was fired, the port guard-ship replying.
A dense fog now settled down on Plymouth Sound, much to my
disappointment, for I was on the look-out for my father's approach.
Soon there was a cluster at boats round the ship, which had conveyed
from the shore all manner of commercial men--Jews with watches for
sale, and tailors with their patterns--for no bluejacket would be
without his private suit--and others with articles of food. Only a
limited number, however, were allowed on board.
My uncle, who resided at Kingsand, had noticed our early arrival in
the Sound. He had been requested by my mother to keep a sharp
look-out for the 'Emerald.' She had given him money to purchase some
food to bring afloat to me. He fulfilled his request with the
greatest satisfaction, for an hour after we had anchored, he was on
board, with a basket of provisions, enquiring for me. I gave him a
hearty welcome, all the more so on account of the basket he bore, as
I had foregone my biscuit and cocoa that morning and had had nothing
to eat. I will just add that the contents of his basket were eagerly
devoured by me and my mess-mates.
My father, so it afterward proved, had been on the Hoe every morning
recently, to see if the 'Emerald' had arrived, but on account of the
fog this morning he did not walk there, knowing that such a fog would
hide the Sound from view, so he contented himself with making
enquiries, and was told that no ship had come from sea. As the day
wore on he chanced to be in a shop in Plymouth, when one of the
stewards of the 'Emerald' entered it, to purchase. That was enough!
He flew away, bringing with him a large box of the best provisions
that money could buy--it had been packed a whole week in readiness
for my home-coming, so as there should be no delay when the ship
arrived. A waterman rowed him down the Sound. In my heart I knew
there was some mistake, as otherwise my father would have been one
of the first to board the ship.
However, about 3 p.m. someone called down the hatchway for me.
Instantly I bounded away to the gangway, there to greet my father,
who was now on board. We spent an hour together, and at 4 p.m. all
visitors were 'piped' out of the ship. The coal was shipped--for we
had been coaling all day.
The boats were hoisted, and the anchor weighed. Being a member of the
drum and fife band on the 'Emerald,' whose work was to play marches
while the capstan was being manned, I must say that our march on this
occasion was out of place. A gallop would have been suitable. With
four men on each capstan bar, it was nothing less than a maddening
whirl, whilst the cry sounded--
"Heave ho! The last time my hearties."
We left Plymouth for Portsmouth to payoff. One of the Portsmouth
outfitters had made it his business to come to Plymouth, and to take
the return passage in our ship. Truly he was a highly favoured man.
Nor was he idle, for he was measuring men for suits of clothes the
most of the night. I suppose he did not mind such night-work. We
sighted Portsmouth in the morning, and after doing the customary
steam trials, proceeded up harbour. Here, as at Plymouth, there were
all classes of business men waiting in boats to besiege the ship.
Most of them met with disappointment, as only a few were allowed on
board. This matter was the cause of complaint being made in an
evening paper, which said: "No such restriction was ever manifested
by any other ship coming home from a foreign station," and after
dwelling on the treatment which had been shown to many who had come
alongside the 'Emerald,' the paragraph concluded with words to this
effect:--"That the 'Emerald's' commission had been far from being a
happy one," words which contained a great deal of truth.
In the course of a few days we made fast alongside the jetty, and
returned stores. This taking a month, then came paying-off day. This
day is generally associated with the idea of a nice sum of money, but
it was far from being so in my case as you shall see. My father had
asked me at Plymouth if I should have sufficient money to pay my
railway fare from Portsmouth to Devonport. Anticipating I should
receive enough for this purpose ort paying-off day, I replied in the
affirmative. But during the month at Portsmouth it gradually dawned
upon me that my money due would amount to but a very little.
Accordingly, I wrote home, informing my parents of the same,
requesting them to send me three pounds.
Having no curios with me save a folding looking-glass which I bought
at Cape Breton Island, and a figured handkerchief from the Jamaica
exhibition, I went ashore one evening at Portsmouth and bought a few
little presents to carry home to my relatives in order that they
should possess something to regard as a token of the 'Emerald's'
home-coming. I did not inform them they were bought at Portsmouth,
and for a time they were prized as presents brought home from foreign
parts. I gave my father a walking-stick, but I rather think that he
from the first knew it was a native of England. Anyhow, the joke has
been discovered since, and has caused much laughter from time to time
in the home circle.
Three days before the dispersion the chaplain sent for me. On going
aft to his cabin, he said, "Cowling, you may have the harmonium." I
thanked him heartily for this present. Not desiring to take it home
with me, I sold it to a local musician for seventeen shillings, with
which I bought a reefer jacket to wear home. At last the happy day
came. The captain, with his officers grouped on the quarterdeck, and
the paymaster with his staff, began the work of payment. On the
seaman's name being called, he stepped toward the pay-table and gave
his number on the ship's book; then receiving the money due to him
walked out of the gangway. It was now my turn, and although some of
the men received from sixty to eighty, and one a hundred pounds,
mine was the modest sum of three shillings and sixpence, despite the
fact that I had been receiving eightpence a day in addition to most
of them--five pence as the organist, and threepence for being a
flute-player.
How do I account for the contrast? In this way. Some men did the
washing of others, charging threepence per piece, and a shilling for
scrubbing a hammock, and others owned a sewing-machine with which in
spare time they made uniform suits. Washing and sewing men were bent
upon having a good pay-day. These two classes of men would seldom buy
any article from the canteen. I should not say they were niggardly or
selfish--their course probably was governed by self-denial, or it may
be that their future marriage day was the solution of their conduct.
As for myself, I never could eat with relish any service food,
consequently most of my wages was spent in canteen food, and the
remainder on shore. Therefore on paying-off day I received my few
shillings as contentedly as those did who were the recipients of many
pounds, for I had utilised my money in one way, and they were about
to do so in another. That is all.
Little groups of men gathered on the wharf to wish each other
'good-bye,' as it was not likely they would ever meet again. I often
think of Collins, who belonged to the same section of the starboard
watch as I. He was a very witty fellow. He was asked one day where
his messmate Jack Frost was? In reply he answered, "He is on the
fore-yard shooting sparrows for the sick." This was amusing,
considering at the time we were in a heavy gale far out at sea. On
another occasion a civilian at Halifax asked him, "What do you
sailors get to eat at sea?" "We live on wind and chew daylight," was
his answer.
When outside the dockyard gates I made off to a restaurant for
refreshment, and then caught the train for Devonport, reaching it at
8 p.m. My father and a friend were on the platform to meet me. We
took a cab to the quay, from which a waterman rowed us across the
harbour. Then a journey of another three miles in a carriage, and I
was at home, sweet home. My mother and sisters, who had been on the
tiptoe of expectation for the last hour, now bounded out of the room
as the front door was opened, and I cannot describe what transpired
in the lobby for the next few minutes. The tears of joy being wiped
away, we all sat down to supper, my companion--he who tasted the
leather strap in our school days--being invited to swell the number,
and to complete the welcome home. Supper ended, I was made the
recipient of various gifts from my parents and sisters. Amongst other
things which my mother gave me was a jersey which she had knitted--
every stitch of it. It happened one day that my sister took the work
in hand and did a little in the making of it, but when my mother
discovered this transgression, she lovingly unravelled the stitches,
for she said "she desired to make it all herself." Such is a mother's
love! Every winter since I have worn the jersey, and even now am
wearing it on this cold December day as I pen these lines.
Six weeks' leave were granted me for my absence of three years, which
is the naval scale--that is a fortnight for each year, and I carried
in my pocket the liberty ticket. Let me tell you what is written on
it: The bearer's name, his height; the complexion of his hair, the
colour of his eyes, his visible marks (if any) and the nature
thereof, also a statement to the effect that he is free from arrest
up to a given date which is specified--if not on board his ship at
the authorised hour on that date he is regarded as a leave-breaker
and punished accordingly.
The six happy weeks passed away all too quickly, and I returned to
the Royal Naval Barracks, or, as is understood in naval circles
H.M.S. 'Vivid' From here, I was drafted to the gunnery college,
H.M.S. 'Cambridge.' It was on this ship that I first saw our present
King, he having come on board to inspect the guns' crews at drill,
accompanied by his brother, the Duke of Edinburgh, who at the time
was Commander-in-Chief of Devonport. After passing through a course
of gunnery, which lasted eighteen months, I was sent back to the
'Vivid.' Being entirely out of touch with a seaman's life, I
requested to "see the captain" with a view of changing my rating to
that of a ship's writer. He granted my appeal conditionally, which
meant, that if I were in harbour when the next examination took
place, I should be allowed to sit, but if away on a foreign station,
of course it would be impossible. To qualify myself in order to
succeed in passing this examination I received private tuition when
ashore, for which I paid very dearly. Meantime an order was received
by the officials to send a draft of bluejackets to Portsmouth to
bring to Devonport H.M.S. 'Rupert.' We went to Portsmouth by train.
Whilst engaged in taking ammunition on board, a box of heavy
cartridge fell on my right foot, and took off the tip of a toe.
I was barefooted, as it was a wet day. Being carried to the sick
berth, my foot was treated and bound, and I was ordered to my
hammock. On arrival at Devonport, the sick-berth steward took me to
the hospital in the naval barracks, where I lay in bed six weeks. You
will perceive that my right foot has been unfortunate. It was the
right foot which was jammed in the crevice of the rocks the right
foot upon which the Portuguese man-of-war was flung, and now again
the right foot which received the fall from the ammunition box.
Time wore away, and I was in a state of expectation as to what date
the examination would take place. To my bitter disappointment I was
told there was to be none that year. Then I began to fear lest before
the next I should be sent away to sea, and thus lose my opportunity
to enter. Again I was drafted to the 'Cambridge,' as one of her
ship's company, and I still resumed my scholastic tuition ashore. A
thrill of dread used to seize me when observing the ship's corporal
walking along the deck bearing a slate, as it was an indication that
someone was to be called upon to prepare for sea. Is it I? was the
thought which filled my mind. However, the year had nearly passed
away, and I was deeply anxious over the forthcoming examination.
"Surely there will be one this year, as there was none last." Such
was my reasoning.
One day at the conclusion of my lesson, my tutor said he had very,
unpleasant news to break to me. It was this:--That an examination
would be held for civilians only, and that an order had been received
stating that no seaman should be allowed to change his rating. Oh, I
thought, was ever any disappointment so vexatious as mine? I left his
house with a wounded spirit, and, having crossed the harbour, walked
toward home, a journey of three miles, weeping bitterly and praying
nearly all the way. The very heavens above seemed to me as brass, and
my horizon appeared dark as the blackness of night; not a streak of
light could I find. For two years I had been studying and working
hard to qualify for this examination, and had spent most of my
earnings in tuition, and now the issue was that in spite of my utter
dislike to a naval life as a sailor, I must still pursue it.
The memory of that awful journey comes to mi mind very forcibly at
times, and when I hear or know of any sore disappointment occurring
in one's life, I fervently pray to God that such disappointment may
be immersed in the waters of kindly help and sympathy. May the Christ
of Gethsemane comfort all wounded hearts, all crushed spirits, and
make sorrow the seed of a new hope, even as He did in my life.
On reaching home that evening my parents observed that I had been
weeping, and on asking the cause, the pent-up grief again burst
forth. Gradually I became calm, and conveyed to them the news which I
had received from my tutor, the naval schoolmaster. They both agreed
there and then, that by God's help I should be released from my
unbearable life, and that steps should be taken immediately to that
end.
Shortly after I came home from sea I attended the Congregational
Church at Cawsand, and here, under the influence of my pastor's
preaching, made a decision for Christ. He soon put me in harness in
church work, and for more than two years I studied theology under
him, he kindly coming to my home every Monday evening to help me in
that direction. Occasionally he set me an examination paper, and
assisted me educationally in every way. This course of theological
study began while I was yet in the navy, and often when boat-keeper
at the lower boom of the 'Cambridge' have I spent hours in study. To
test my preaching abilities, the Rev. Stephen Stroud, for such was my
pastor's name, would take me into his church, where in a pew he would
sit as a listening critic, while I preached from the pulpit.
The next day I went to him and intimated my parents' decision in
consequence of my vexation, and that they wished to purchase my
discharge if possible, whereupon he gave me a letter to take to the
commander of the ship. In the course of a few days I stood before him
on the quarterdeck, and made known my desire to quit the service,
and my detestation of a sailor's life. He did not thwart me in
any way, but said the request would have to be brought before the
Commander-in-Chief of the port, and the Admiralty.