The Pratta Shoal--The Wreck--The Pirates--Another Wreck--Prospect of
Hong-Kong--Wantchee Dinner--Up the River--Bocca Tigris--Getting
it properly--A Chinese Landscape--Plenty of Swamp-seed--Our
Anchorage--Boats to Fatsan--A Dose for the Long-tails--A dark
Watch--Capture of Chuenpee--Trophies: unboiled Goat and boiled
Rice--Chasing a Pirate--Bird-scarers--Alarm of Fire--Inspection
by Admiral Sir Michael Seymour--The Growlers pacified--Crickets
and Bullfrogs--Theatrical Amusement--Discontent--Drop down the
River--A Funeral--Hong-Kong, and a Run on Shore--A Prospect--The
old Anchorage again--Flogging and Tail-lopping--Rowing
Guard-boat--Cooking and Story-telling--A Sanpan of Thieves--Prizes
without Profit--A Grumble--See-no-more’s Fund.
Glad enough we all were to get to the end of our voyage. I had not had
any dinner when the hands were ‘turned up,’ but I had devoured all my
letters. We were not long idle, for the next day we received orders to
weigh and proceed to the Pratta Shoal to relieve an English merchant
ship which had struck there, and remained wedged upon the reef. We
found her in this position, abandoned, and with all her sails flying
loose. She was totally lost, as she had broken her back, and the first
gale of wind would wash her off the reef, and she would go down in deep
water. We took from her all kinds of gear likely to be useful, and then
left her to the mercy of the Chinese pirates, whose junks were hovering
about. The principal token of the luckless _Annie_ which we brought
away was her figure-head, and it was preserved in the ship for years
afterwards, and its end was, I believe, fuel for the furnaces. Our next
expedition was to Macao, where we had to get old stores out of the
wreck of the _Raleigh_.
During the time that we lay at Hong-Kong I had a chance to observe
the town, and will try and say a few words about it. It stands at the
foot of a lofty and somewhat rugged hill, called Victoria Peak. This
hill abounds with springs of the purest water, which trickle down
the hill in the hot sunshine with a cooling and pleasant sound; the
soil is otherwise unproductive. The general appearance of the town
reminded me greatly of Cowes, barring the pretty scenery; the streets
are tolerably broad and indifferently paved; the shops are mostly held
by Chinese; it swarms with beer-shops, which are kept by broken-down
mates of merchant vessels, or by runaway convicts. On landing, if you
feel disposed for a feed of puppy-pie or grimalkin-pudding, you have
only to accompany one of the many cringing Chinamen who run after you,
crying, “Wantchee dinner, Jack? Come my hu’s; me got plenty very good;
all samee Inglis fash.” There are many substantial and good houses
belonging to Government and wealthy colonists. Fans form a great part
of the show in the shops, made entirely of feathers, others of silk and
lighter stuffs, many of ivory, and you can have the sticks carved by
hand to whatever pattern you may order, such as a shield with a coat
of arms, or a cypher, or wreath, all finished according to the copy
with very great exactness. Models of temples, pagodas, gods, are often
worked in ivory, and from the shavings, interwoven with small pieces of
quill, the natives make neat little circular and oblong baskets, very
light and elegant.
At length, everything being ready, we started for the river. The shore
is wild and rocky at its entrance, and at the Bocca Tigris, where
the stream narrows suddenly, the tide sets through like a mill-race,
and boats often have great difficulty in making headway against it.
We passed the Bogue Forts, which had recently been captured by our
people; they were a mere heap of ruins, our shot having told severely
upon them. “Them’s the Bogue Forts,” said the old hands, as we passed.
“Johnny got it properly there!” Farther up the shore becomes very flat,
spreading away to a range of blue hills in the distance, crowded with
well-cultivated fields, skirted by rows of willows or bananas running
in all directions, full and leafy, but low of stature. Here and there
appears a picturesque village. The river, as I guess, is about a mile
broad, and deep and rapid. Long rows of piles stand up in numerous
places nearly all across, and native boats and junks dot the surface.
About six o’clock we arrived in a quiet bend of the stream, within
sight of Dane’s Island; the same luxuriant rice-fields spreading still
on each side, which occasioned the exclamation more than once from our
men, “Well, there’s one good job, we needn’t starve, for there’s plenty
of swamp-seed!” And, besides rice, there were groves of orange, bamboo,
and ash trees.
Here we dropped anchor, and sent away the launch and pinnace to Fatsan
to take part in the action in the morning. The remainder of us who
were left on board went to quarters, and loaded the guns with round
shot and grape in case of surprise. While doing this we didn’t talk
much, only one or two of us youngsters would ask older hands, “D’ye
think we shall have a go in?” and were told to “shut up” for our pains;
and every gun as we finished with it we thought “another dose for the
Long-tails.” The watch was called and kept under arms; the night was
intensely dark, and the rain poured down in torrents, and from the
adjacent villages we could hear the occasional sullen boom of the gong
proclaiming the passage of the night, or the activity of the people,
and the savage baying of Celestial watch-dogs. I was on the look-out
part of my watch, and I peered into the profound gloom over the bows
with keen anxiety, as every ten minutes or so I would hear the often
repeated caution, “Keep a good look out there.” “Ay, ay, sir,” would be
the ready response, and my eyes were again straining to pierce through
the darkness. Oh! how dreary, and long, and weary seemed that middle
watch, and what a welcome sound had the bell when it struck eight, and
the other watch was called.
On the 18th of June we steamed down the river to attack Chuenpee Fort,
just beyond the Bogue, in an angle of the stream; the guns were cast
loose, shotted, boarding nettings triced up, and with everything
cleared away for action we stood at our guns. We approached the fort,
which looked silent and grim, but showed no signs of activity. We came
nearer and nearer, and still no hostile movement from the garrison.
We got to within thirty yards; but no, either they were endeavouring
to draw us on, or they didn’t mean to fight. The _Hong-Kong_, hired
steamer, bearing the flag for the time, now sent a 68-pounder over
all, but no messenger in reply came from the battery. The marines were
quickly landed at the rear of the fort, and, as we half anticipated,
found it deserted, with the exception of an old goat and a big copper
of boiling rice. All the guns had been buried at the back of the fort,
but so hurriedly that the muzzles of several were above ground. We left
them undisturbed. Of course this would-be action was a good joke among
the men, and many said, “Well, if all Chinee fighting is to be like
this, I don’t care a bit; we may as well be doing this as swinging at
our moorings; it’s all in the commission.” We often used afterwards to
revert jocularly to the glorious 18th of June.
As an offset to this, on the same evening, after we had returned
to our anchorage, and as we were mustering for evening quarters, a
large piratical row-boat was seen pulling away in shore; “’way there,
cutters,” was the decisive pipe, and, quickly manned and armed, we
started in pursuit. I pulled stroke oar, and did give way with a will.
It was a hot and hard chase, and had we not had injunctions to withhold
our fire we might have captured them; as it was, they, with their
knowledge of every small creek and bayou of the river, and with their
flat-bottomed boat, escaped us, and the twilight was fast merging into
night when we gave up the chase.
About a week after this we unmoored, and steamed fifteen miles
farther up the river to a new billet. As we advanced the river
gradually narrowed, the banks rose higher, and the most delightful
scenery presented itself; beautiful groves, growing completely down
to the water’s edge, neat little villages, embosomed in trees; while
well-cultivated fields spread away into the distance, skirted by rows
of bananas and plantains. In some of the fields, where the crops had
been newly sown, little boys were seen, as they are in England, scaring
the paddy-birds and crows from the grain, and their “halloo-shoo!”
sounded very familiar. Stow the youngster out of sight and you would
imagine easily you heard a little English rustic. It was different
where we anchored. Picture to yourself an extensive river, wide and
muddy; you are looking east, up stream, and discern lofty rugged
mountains and a bend in the stream, where lie two of Her Majesty’s
ships, _Fury_ and _Acorn_. Lower down, and below the barrier, is our
ship, her broadsides commanding both banks, which are flat and swampy,
and flooded by every tide; on the higher ground flourish crops of
watermelons, yams, potatoes; the scenery farther inland is park-like
and very rural. We had hardly settled into our place when all hands
were startled by an alarm of fire, and every man went to his station,
having been drilled for fire as well as firing. But it was nothing of
importance, and was soon put out. This was the second since we were
in commission; the first happened just as we were leaving Portsmouth.
The admiral, Sir Michael Seymour, came up after we had settled into
our new berth and inspected us. He expressed himself well satisfied
with the ship and crew; but the day before, to have heard many of
the sapient Highflyers making remarks, it would have made him seem
an “awful fellow.” “Well, Bill, I say, the admiral’s coming aboard
to-morrow, at four in the morning, to inspect us.” “Well, God bless
him, Jack, he’s a nice old fellow, and I wish him luck.” “If _I_ have
to turn out at four I shall give him a prayer,” growled S. “The old
----,” broke in a petty-officer, using a very uncomplimentary word. “He
might have waited till after breakfast. We shall have to pull and haul
our souls out for him, I suppose.” Petty-officers are apt to be wise
in their own conceit, and deliver their opinions accordingly. The one
in question walked aft with a very dignified air, as if he considered
all admirals a bore, but especially this one. “One fool makes many,”
sung out a forward youngster, for which he received a sound box on
the ear from a seaman, but whether justly or not I don’t pretend to
say. Such was the talk occasioned by anticipations of Sir Michael’s
visit. After mustering round the capstan for inspection, we went to
general quarters, the well-known signal for which was the rapid roll
of the drum, embodying the tune _Hearts of Oak_; the guns were soon
cast adrift, and actively knocked about, ‘extreme trained,’ and all
but dismounted. The casting loose, loading, and running out, providing
of ammunition, were accomplished in three minutes and a half from the
roll of the drum, much to the admiral’s satisfaction. After this came
cutlass exercise, points and parries, thrusts and guards; and last,
but not least, a spell of rifle drill, in which we fired kneeling,
forming ‘rallying square,’ extending from the centre, and the like
evolutions. The whole of these operations may have lasted about two
hours, and those who growled were considerably mollified when after
breakfast we had all the rest of the day to ourselves.
About this time there appears in my log, “I hate this weary lying
inactive in harbour; sooner by far would I be at sea, then I could at
least learn somewhat of my profession.” Sometimes in the evenings we
were allowed the use of the launch to sail about the river and bathe,
and very often we used to go far up some picturesque creek with the
seine and fish till dark, but often, instead of fish, all we got for
our trouble was mud and vexation. The nights were often oppressively
sultry--it was out of the question to sleep--not a breath of air would
be stirring; nothing would be heard but the monotonous chirrup of the
crickets, the croak of the bullfrog from the swampy fields skirting the
river, and the ripple of the muddy and turbulent stream as it rushed
past to mingle its waters with the distant sea. However, even these
sounds have a soothing effect on a quiet mind.
On the 13th of July we had an entertainment; our theatre royal was
opened by amateur actors, who played two farces, _Fortune’s Frolic_ and
the _Camp at Chobham_. We thought the acting good and very amusing,
and enjoyed it vastly, testifying our approbation by shrill whistling
and noisy cries of “Hencore! hencore!” But the effect of this was soon
over, and most of us felt very discontented at being kept idle so long,
and we thought there would be a danger of our grounding on our own beef
bones.
After a time there came a change. We lifted the anchor, dropped down
the river, and met with a storm, in which our launch went down with
one poor fellow, who was drowned. We recovered his body, and, seeking
out a quiet spot, buried him on Tiger Island, where a simple white
cross, in a lonely and savage nook, marks his resting-place. I was one
of the funeral party, and as we stood, with heads uncovered, listening
to our good chaplain reciting the burial service, the tears came to my
eyes, as I thought such a fate might be mine, and, far from home and
those I loved, I might find a stranger’s grave. Then we steamed down to
Hong-Kong, where all hands had leave for a run on shore for forty-eight
hours. What a treat! How I enjoyed it! On the first day, feeling tired,
I didn’t exactly know where to go, so I mounted the hill, and espying
a little bamboo hut, I made towards it, and offered a good-natured
Chinaman a shilling to let me lie down. He agreed with, “Yes, can do,
Jack; all ploper;” and on some clean rice-straw I made a luxuriant
couch, and lay enjoying the prospect over the town and bay of Victoria,
and the neighbouring island of Kow-loon. When thoroughly rested, I
strolled down to Happy Valley, which contains the race-course and
Christian burial-ground. It is a secluded spot, and very picturesque:
low swelling hills encircle it on three sides; on the fourth it is open
to the blue and sparkling waters of the bay. The hills are covered with
shrubs, firs, and young English forest trees, and look very pretty.
The cemetery is situated at the base of one of these hills, shut in
by plantations, laid out in good walks, adorned by native plants and
well-kept grass, and further by two picturesque chapels; and is so
quiet, so profoundly still, one could well feel happy at the thought of
being laid in so sweet a spot for one’s last long rest.
After the leave was over we returned to our old anchorage, where we
presently had a little excitement in the shape of flogging three
Chinamen, who had been entering native villages and extorting a tax in
the English name. After the flogging, which was administered on board
a junk that lay handy, by a boatswain’s mate, their tails were cut off,
and they were turned adrift, as a warning to all other cheating rascals.
All this time there had been various rumours of taking Canton, and
early in December (1857) a trooper came up with five hundred marines on
board. This looked like doing something; but even now we knew nothing
positive, save that we got ready our knapsacks, water-bottles, and
havresacs in case we were wanted. The river had been in a state of
blockade for months, and every night we had to row guard-boat, which,
as it gave us something to do, never wanted for volunteers. We used
to leave the ship about eight o’clock and pull away at once to our
washing-junk, where all the officers’ clothes were washed, and make the
boat fast alongside. Then, having lit the fire, we put the pot on, with
meat and potatoes, or yams, and sat down to smoke our pipes and twist
yams; that is, to tell stories till supper was ready. No one thought of
refusing any of that, and it soon disappeared. One hand used to wash
up, clean out the pot, and put it on again full of water, all ready for
tea when we came back from going the rounds. The distance was, from the
junk round the farthest ship, about a mile, and back to the junk again
about twelve o’clock. Then we would have our tea, and sit and talk
again till three o’clock; then rounds once more. By the time we could
get back it was daylight, so the fire was put out, everything placed in
order, and we returned to the ship. As a rule, we were exempt from duty
all the remainder of the day; but I have had at times to work hard all
day after rowing guard-boat all night.
While we were going the rounds one night, some Chinese boarded the
junk and walked off with the ‘slack’ of a fathom or two of cable. We
found it out on our return, and determined to lay wait for them. So,
instead of all of us going away, three--myself being one--remained on
board, all lying flat down on our breasts in the afterpart, with our
pistols in hand ready cocked, and intently listening. No sooner had
the splash of the guard-boat’s oars died away in the distance, than a
sanpan shot out from the sedgy bank of the creek and pulled towards the
junk. We let it come close aboard, and one of the rowers was in the act
of clambering over the stern, when I fired. He fell back with a yell,
and my two comrades, dashing forwards, discharged their pistols at the
prowlers. We heard sundry groans, but the sanpan darted away, and was
soon lost to sight.
The guard-boat pulled quickly back, heard our story, and shoved off
again in the direction the sanpan had taken, but could see or find
nothing. One of the men, however, said he could see a fellow creeping
along the banks, under cover of the reeds, and directly fired his
musket at the object, but still it was there, and upon our nearer
approach we found it to be an old tree-stump. Didn’t we laugh at our
shipmate--disturbing the silence of the creek with our hearty roars.
Then back we went to the junk, and talked over the affair till morning.
Soon after the _Bittern_ brig, with mortars on board, and another
trooper with marines, came up, making us look for an end to our
idleness. Meanwhile we had something to grumble about. Our captain
being senior officer in the river, the heavily-laden junks of all
classes, which we were continually capturing during the blockade, were
moored in-shore near the _Highflyer_, and hands were appointed to keep
a look-out upon them. Some were laden with tea and silk, Chinese native
manufactures, clothing, grain, salt; in fact, the very articles that
were saleable in the country. Well, here they were, left rotting and
no good to anybody, when they ought to have been sent to Hong-Kong,
valued and sold, and the proceeds given to us for prize-money. Some
ships did this, and why could not we? By-and-by the owners ventured
aboard the _Highflyer_, and craved for their property, knowing our
captain’s character for kindness, and representing that they were
poor, innocent, honest Chinamen, who obtained their living by trading
and the hire of their vessels; upon which, in many cases, they were
released, and away went the supplicants, laughing in their sleeve at
the clemency of the English mandarin. This we thought was not right;
the men grumbled amazingly: “Ah! this comes of being along with a rich
skipper as don’t care about making money, and thinks nobody else do.
Give me a poor man as only got his pay to look after, a fellow might
crack a fine crust then.” Some of the receipts, we were told, were sent
to Hong-Kong, and put into a fund for the benefit of ships in Chinese
waters. Jack used to call it “See-no-more’s fund,” on account of Sir
Michael Seymour’s taking charge of it. The money, so far as it went,
as we believed, would be given to ships upon their leaving the station
and going home; but we never knew what became of the fund, and so paid
ourselves by christening it as above-mentioned, and many a joke did
Jack crack upon it besides: “The authorities,” he said, “were having
sieves made to sift the fund, and after the sixth-sized sieve had done
its work, all that remained was to be given to sailors.” And when our
mail chanced to be a little over-due, another said, “She had grounded
on the bar with the weight of the fund, and our boats were to go away
and lighten her.” For a long time it was our standing joke, till,
gradually forgotten, we heard of it no more.