There was not a happier ship in the service, when I joined her towards
the end of the year 1794, than the gallant _San Fiorenzo_, Captain Sir
Harry Burrard Neale, and those were not days when ships were reckoned
little paradises afloat, even by enthusiastic misses or sanguine young
midshipmen. They were generally quite the other thing.
The crews of many ships found it that other thing, and the officers, of
course, found it so likewise. If the men are not contented, the
officers must be uncomfortable; and, at the same time, I will say, from
my experience, that when a ship gained the title of a hell-afloat, it
was always in consequence of the officers not knowing their duty, or not
doing it. Pride, arrogance, and an utter disregard for the feelings of
those beneath them in rank, was too prevalent among the officers of the
service, and was the secret of the calamitous events which occasionally
happened about that time.
My noble commander was not such an one as those of whom I have spoken.
There were some like him, but not many his equals. I may truly say of
him "that he belonged to the race of admirals of which the navy of Old
England has a right to be proud; that he was a perfect seaman, and a
perfect gentleman."
"He was one of the most humane, brave, and zealous commanders that ever
trod a deck, to whom every man under him looked up as a father." I was
with him for many, very many years--from my boyish days to manhood,--and
I may safely say that I never saw him in a passion, or even out of
temper, though I have seen him indignant; and never more so than when
merit--the merit of the junior officers of the service--has been
overlooked or disregarded. I never heard him utter an oath, and I
believe firmly that he never allowed one to escape his lips. I will say
of him what I dare say of few men, that, in the whole course of his
life, he was never guilty of an act unworthy of the character of a
Christian and a gentleman. I was with him when his career was run--
when, living in private on his own estate, the brave old sailor, who had
ever kept himself unspotted from the world, spent his days in "visiting
the fatherless and widows in their affliction"--walking from cottage to
cottage, with his basket of provisions or medicines, or books, where the
first were not required.
Genuine were the tears shed on his grave, and hearty was the response as
the following band gave forth the air of "The Fine Old English
Gentleman, all of the Olden Time?"
And now, on the borders of his estate, visible afar over the Solent Sea
[Note 1], there stands a monument, raised by his sovereign and by those
who knew and loved him well, all eager to add their testimony to his
worth. But yet he lives in the heart of many a seaman, and will live
while one remains who served under his command. But, avast! whither am
I driving? My feelings have carried me away.
After what I have said, it is not surprising that the _San Fiorenzo_
should have been a happy ship. Her captain made her so. From the
highest to the lowest, all trusted him; all knew that he had their
interest at heart--all loved him. The _San Fiorenzo_ might have been a
happy ship under an inferior commander--that is possible; but I doubt
very much whether her crew would have done what they did do under any
officer not possessed of those high qualities for which Sir Harry was so
eminently distinguished. The _San Fiorenzo_ was highly honoured, for
she was the favourite ship, or rather, Sir Harry was the favourite
captain of His Majesty George the Third, who, let people say what they
will of him, was truly the sailors' friend, and wished to be his
subjects' friend, as far as he had the power. Sir Harry was a
favourite, not because he was a flatterer, but because the King knew him
to be an honest man.
George the Third, as is well known, was very fond of spending the summer
months at Weymouth, whence he could easily put to sea in his yacht, or
on board a man-of-war, placed at his disposal. He seemed never to tire
of sailing, especially with Sir Harry.
Whist was the constant game in the royal cabins. Sir Harry, who did
everything as well as he could, though far from a good player, often
beat the King, who was an indifferent one. Lord A--, a practised
courtier, was, on the contrary, a remarkably good one, and generally
beat Sir Harry. When, however, Lord A-- played with the King, His
Majesty always came off victorious. The King used to pretend to be
exceedingly puzzled.
"It's very odd--very odd. I beat Lord A--, Lord A-- beats Sir Harry,
and Sir Harry beats me. How can it be--how can it be?"
The King was always anxious to stand out to sea, so as to lose sight of
land. This, however, was too dangerous an amusement to allow him. Sir
Harry's plan was to put the ship's head off-shore, and to make all sail.
This satisfied the King, who was then easily persuaded to go below to
luncheon, dinner, or tea, or to indulge in his favourite game. Sail was
soon again quietly shortened, and the ship headed in for the shore.
Sometimes the King seemed rather surprised that we should have made the
land again so soon; but whether or not he suspected a trick, I cannot
say. His only remark was, "All right, Sir Harry; you are always right."
It was impossible for a monarch to be more condescending and affable
than was the good old King to all on board. He used to go among the
men, and talk to them in the most familiar way, inquiring about their
adventures and family histories, and evidently showing a sympathy with
their feelings and ideas. Did they love the old King? Ay, there was
not a man of them who would not gladly have died for him. It was the
same with the midshipmen and officers. He used to delight in calling up
us youngsters, and would chat with us as familiarly as would any private
gentleman. He showed his real disposition, when able thus to cast aside
the cares of state, and to give way to the kindly feelings of his heart.
I say again, in that respect the King and his captain were worthy of
each other. The following anecdote will prove it:--
We had gone to Portsmouth, leaving the King at Weymouth, and were
returning through the Needles, when, as we got off Poole harbour, a
small boat, with three people in her, was seen a little on the starboard
bow. One man was rowing, the other two persons were beckoning,
evidently towards the ship. As we drew near, we saw, through our
glasses, that the two people were an old man and woman, and, as we
appeared to be passing them, their gestures became more and more
vehement. Many captains would have laughed, or taken no notice of the
old people. Not so Sir Harry--he had a feeling for everyone. Ordering
the ship to be hove-to, he allowed the boat to come alongside.
"Oh, captain, is our ain bairn Davie on board?" shouted the old people,
in chorus.
Sir Harry, with the benignant smile his countenance so often wore,
directed that they might be assisted up the side.
"Who is it you want, good people?" he asked, as soon as their feet were
safely planted on the deck, where they stood, gazing round with
astonished countenances.
"Our ain son, Davie--David Campbell, sir," was again the reply.
"Is there any man of that name on board?" inquired Sir Harry. "Let him
be called aft."
A stout lad soon made his appearance, and was immediately pressed in the
old people's arms. This son was a truant, long absent from his home.
At length, grown weary at delay, quitting their abode near Edinburgh,
they had travelled south, inquiring at every port for their lost son,
and only that morning had they arrived by waggon at Poole, believing
that it was a port where men-of-war were to be found. A boatman, for
the sake of a freight, had persuaded them to come off with him, pointing
out the ship which was then coming out through the Needles.
Sir Harry was so pleased with the perseverance and affection which the
old couple had exhibited, that he took them on to Weymouth, when the
story was told to the King. His Majesty had them presented to him, and
he and Queen Charlotte paid them all sorts of attention, and at length,
after they had spent some weeks with their son, dismissed them, highly
gratified, to their home in the North.
Queen Charlotte was as good a woman as ever lived, and, in her way, was
as kind and affable as was the King. She had a quaint humour about her,
too, which frequently exhibited itself, in spite of the somewhat painful
formality of the usual court circle. As an example--Sir Harry had had a
present of bottled green peas made to him the previous year, and,
looking on them as a great rarity, he had kept them to be placed on the
table before his royal guests. As he knew more about ploughing the
ocean than ploughing the land, and affairs nautical than horticultural,
it did not occur to him that fresh green peas were to obtained on shore.
The bottled green peas were therefore proudly produced on the first
opportunity.
"Your Majesty," said Sir Harry, as the Queen was served, "those green
peas have been kept a whole year."
The Queen made no reply till she had eaten a few, and sent several
flying off from the prongs of her fork. Then, nodding with a smile, she
quietly said, "So I did tink."
To the end of his days, Sir Harry used to laugh over the story, adding,
"Sure enough, they were very green; but as hard as swan-shot."
But I undertook to narrate a circumstance which exhibited Sir Harry
Burrard Neale's character in its true colours. I need not enter into an
account of that painful event, the Mutiny of the British Fleet. It
broke out first at Spithead, on the 15th April, 1797, on board Lord
Bridport's flag-ship, the _Royal George_; the crews of the other ships
of the fleet following the example thus set them. The men, there can be
no doubt, had very considerable grievances of which to complain; nor can
it be well explained how, in those days, they could by legal means have
had them redressed. One thing only is certain, mutiny was not the
proper way of proceeding. We were at Spithead, and not an officer in
the fleet knew what was about to occur, when, on the 14th, two of our
men desired to speak with the captain, and then gave him the astounding
intelligence that the ships' companies of the whole fleet had bound
themselves to make certain important demands, and which, if not granted,
that they would refuse to put to sea. The two men--they were
quartermasters--moreover, stated that they had themselves been chosen
delegates to represent the ship's company of the _San Fiorenzo_, by the
rest of the fleet, but that they could assure him that all the men would
prove true and loyal, and would obey their officers as far as was
consistent with prudence.
Sir Harry thanked them, assuring them, in return, that he would trust
them thoroughly. He, however, scarcely believed at that time the extent
to which the mischief had gone. The next day evidence was given of the
wide spread of the disaffection. Affairs day after day grew worse and
worse; and although some of the superior officers acted with great
judgment and moderation, others very nearly drove matters to the
greatest extremity.
Meantime, the delegates of the _San Fiorenzo_ attended the meetings of
the mutineers, and, though at the imminent risk of their lives,
regularly brought Sir Harry information of all that occurred. He
transmitted it to the Admiralty, and it was chiefly through his
representations and advice that conciliatory measures were adopted by
the Government. Nearly all the just demands of the seamen having been
granted, they returned to their duty and it was supposed that the mutiny
was at an end. Just before this, the Princess Royal had married the
Duke of Wirtemberg, and the _San Fiorenzo_ had been appointed to carry
Her Royal Highness over to Cuxhaven. We could not, however, move
without permission from the delegates. This was granted. Our
upper-deck guns were stowed below, and the larger portion of the
upper-deck fitted with cabins. In this condition, when arriving at
Sheerness, we found to our surprise that the red flag was still flying
on board the guardship, the _Sandwich_. Supposing that her crew had not
been informed of what had taken place at Spithead, Sir Harry sent our
delegates on board her, that they might explain the real state of
affairs. The disgust of our men was very great when they were informed
that fresh demands had been made by the crews of the North Sea fleet, of
so frivolous a nature that it was not probable they would be granted.
Our men, in spite of the character of delegates, which had been forced
on them, could not help showing their indignation, and expressing
themselves in no very courteous terms. This showed the mutineers that
they were not over-zealous in their cause, and our people were warned
that, should they prove treacherous, they and their ship would be sent
to the bottom.
On returning on board, they informed Sir Harry of all that had occurred.
Our delegates, at his suggestion, immediately communicated with those
of the _Clyde_, an old fellow-cruiser, commanded by Captain Cunningham.
That officer, on account of his justice, humanity, and bravery, enjoyed,
as did Sir Harry, the confidence of his ship's company. An arrangement
was therefore made between the captains and their crews that, should the
mutineers persevere in their misconduct, they would take the ships out
from amidst the fleet, fighting our way, if necessary, and run for
protection under cover of the forts at Sheerness. Every preparation was
made. We waited till the last moment. The mutineers showed no
disposition to return to their duty. The _Clyde_ was the in-shore ship;
she was therefore to move first [Note 2]. We watched her with intense
interest, while we remained still as death. Not one of our officers
appeared on deck, and but few of the men, though numerous eager eyes
were gazing through the ports. The _Clyde_ had springs on her cables,
we knew, but as yet not a movement was perceptible. Suddenly her seamen
swarmed on the yards, the topsails were let fall and sheeted home. She
canted the right way. Hurrah! all sail was made. Away she went; and,
before one of the mutinous fleet could go in chase, she was under the
protection of the guns on shore. It was now our turn; but we had not a
moment to lose, as the tide was on the turn to ebb, when we should have
had it against us. What was our vexation, therefore, when the order was
given to get under weigh, to find that the pilot, either from fear,
incompetency, or treachery, had declared that he could not take charge
of the ship! Sir Harry would have taken her out himself; but the delay
was fatal to his purpose, and before we could have moved, boats from the
other ships were seen approaching the _San Fiorenzo_. They contained
the delegates from the fleet, who, as they came up the side, began, with
furious looks, to abuse our men for not having fired into the _Clyde_,
and prevented her escaping. High words ensued, and so enraged did our
men become at being abused because they did not fire on friends and
countrymen, that one of the quartermasters, John Aynsley by name, came
aft to the first lieutenant, and entreated that they might be allowed
"to heave the blackguards overboard."
A nod from him would have sealed the fate of the delegates. I thought
then (and I am not certain that I was wrong) that we might at that
moment have seized the whole of the scoundrels, and carried them off
prisoners to Sheerness. It would have been too great a risk to have run
them up to the yard-arm, or hove them overboard, as our men wished, lest
their followers might have retaliated on the officers in their power.
No man was more careful of human life than Sir Harry, and it was a plan
to which he would never have consented. The delegates, therefore,
carried things with a high hand, and, convinced that our crew were loyal
to their king and country, they ordered us to take up a berth between
the _Inflexible_ and _Director_, to unbend our sails, and to send our
powder on board the _Sandwich_, at the mast-head of which ship the flag
of the so-called Admiral Parker was then flying. That man, Richard
Parker, had been shipmate with a considerable number of the crew of the
_San Fiorenzo_, as acting lieutenant, but had been dismissed his ship
for drunkenness, and having lost all hope of promotion, had entered
before the mast.
Our people had, therefore, a great contempt for him, and said that he
was no sailor, and that his conduct had ever been unlike that of an
officer and a gentleman. Such a man, knowing that he acted with a rope
round his neck, was of course the advocate of the most desperate
measures. Everything that took place was communicated immediately to
Sir Harry, who advised the men to pretend compliance, and, much to our
relief, the other delegates took their departure. As soon as they were
gone, Sir Harry told the ship's company that, provided they would agree
to stand by him, he would take the ship into Sheerness, as before
intended. The men expressed their readiness to incur every possible
risk to effect that purpose. The almost unarmed condition of the ship
at the time must be remembered. The men set zealously to work to
prepare for the enterprise. Springs were got on our cables. All was
ready. The flood had made. The object was to cast in-shore. The men
were at their stations. We were heaving on the spring--it broke at the
most critical moment, and we cast outward. There was no help for it.
Nothing could prevent us from running right in among the two ships of
the mutinous fleet which I have mentioned, and which lay with their guns
double shotted, and the men at quarters, with the lanyards in their
hands, ready to fire at us. Our destruction seemed certain; but not for
a moment did our captain lose his presence of mind. Calm as ever, he
ordered the quartermaster Aynsley to appear on deck as if in command,
while the officers concealed themselves in different parts of the ship,
he standing where he could issue his orders and watch what was taking
place. All was sheeted home in a moment, and we stood in between the
two line-of-battle ships, the _Director_ and _Inflexible_. The ship, by
this time, had got good way on her. It appeared that we were about to
take up the berth into which we had been ordered, when Sir Harry
directed that all the sheets should suddenly be let fly. This took the
mutineers so completely by surprise, that not a gun was then fired at
us. Sir Harry next ordered the helm to be put "hard-a-port," which
caused the ship to shoot ahead of the _Inflexible_--we were once more
outside our enemies. Springing immediately on deck, he took the
command, crying out, in his encouraging tone, "Well done, my lads--well
done!"
A loud murmur of applause and satisfaction was heard fore and aft; but
we had no time for a cheer.
"Now clear away the bulkheads, and mount the guns," he added.
Every man flew with a hearty will to obey his orders. And need there
was; for scarcely were the words out of his mouth than the whole fleet
of thirty-two sail opened their fire on us. The shot flew like hail
around us, and thick as hail, ploughing up the water as they leaped
along it, chasing each other across the surface on every side of the
ship. We could have expected nothing else than to be sunk instantly,
had we had time for consideration; but, as it was, wonderfully few
struck our hull, while not a shroud was cut away, nor was a man hurt.
The huge _Director_, close to us, might have sent us to the bottom with
a broadside, but not a shot from her, that we could see, came aboard us.
"They have not the heart to fire at us, the blackguards!" observed one
of the men near me.
"It may be that, Bill; but, to my mind, they're struck all of a heap at
seeing the brave way our captain did that," answered another. "If we'd
had the guns mounted he'd have fired smack into them. We send our
powder aboard that pirate Parker's ship! we unbend our sails to please
such a sneaking scoundrel as he!"
"It's just this, that the misguided chaps are slaves against their will,
and they haven't become bad enough yet to fire on their countrymen, and
maybe old friends and shipmates," said a third.
Such were the opinions generally expressed on board. It was reported
afterwards that the _Director_ fired blank cartridges, and this may have
been the case, but I think more probably that her people were first
struck with astonishment at our manoeuvre, and then, with admiration at
the bravery displayed, purposely fired wide of us. As, however, we were
frequently struck, some shots by traitorous hands must have been aimed
at us from her, or from some of the other ships. In little more than
two hours the bulkheads were cleared away from the cabin door, to the
break of the quarter-deck (the whole space having, as I before said,
been fitted up with cabins for the suite of Her Royal Highness). The
guns on both sides were got up from the hold and mounted, and we were
ready for action. As soon as the task was accomplished, the men came
aft in a body, and entreated, should any ships be sent after us by the
mutineers, that they might be allowed to fight to the last, and go down
with our colours flying, rather than yield, and return to the fleet at
the Nore.
Sir Harry readily promised not to disappoint their wishes.
We stood on, but as yet no sign was perceptible of chase being made
after us. It was possible, we thought, that no ship's company could be
induced to weigh in pursuit. They well knew that we should prove a
tough bargain, had any single ship come up with us. Should we prove
victorious, every man might have been hung as a pirate. As to Parker,
he dared not leave his fleet, as he ventured to call it.
Our master, although a good navigator, did not feel himself justified in
taking charge of the ship, within the boundaries of a Branch pilot, and
we were therefore on the look-out for a pilot vessel, when a lugger was
discovered on the lee bow, and we were on the point of bearing down to
her, when we made out first a ship or two, then several sail, and
lastly, a whole fleet, which we guessed must be the North Sea Fleet
standing for the Nore. We were steering for them, to give the admiral
notice of what had occurred, when the red flag was discovered flying on
board them also. They had, as it appeared, left their station in a
state of mutiny, having placed the admiral and all the officers under
arrest. To avoid them altogether was impossible, and before long a
frigate bore down to us. Should our real character be discovered, we
must be captured by an overwhelming force. Still Sir Harry remained
calm and self-possessed as ever. As the frigate approached, he ordered
all the officers below, and giving the speaking-trumpet to Stanley, the
quartermaster, told him to reply as he might direct. The frigate hailed
and inquired what we were about. "Looking out to stop ships with
provisions, that we may supply the fleet," was the answer. The people
of the frigate, satisfied with this reply, proceeded to rejoin the
fleet, while we, glad to escape further questioning, made sail in chase
of the lugger. She was a fast craft, and led us a chase of four hours
before we captured her. She proved to be the _Castor and Pollux_
privateer of sixteen guns. Having taken out the prisoners, and put a
prize crew on board, we were proceeding to Portsmouth, when the lugger,
being to windward, spoke a brig, which had left that place the day
before, and from her gained the information that the mutiny had again
broken out at Spithead. Under these circumstances, Sir Harry thought it
prudent to anchor under Dungeness until he could communicate with the
Admiralty. This we did; but it was a time of great anxiety, for the
mutineers might consider it important to capture us, to hold Sir Harry
and his officers as hostages, and to wreak their vengeance on our men.
We got springs on the cable, and the ship ready for action. During the
middle watch a ship was made out bearing down towards us; she was high
out of the water, and was pronounced by many to be a line-of-battle
ship. Sir Harry was on deck in an instant--the private signal was
made--would it be answered? Yes; but there was no security in this, as,
should the ship's company have mutinied, they would naturally have
possessed themselves of it. The drum beat to quarters, the fighting
lanterns were up, their light streaming through our ports. Our men
earnestly repeated their request to be allowed to sink rather than
surrender to the mutineers. No sight of the sort could be finer, as the
brave fellows stood stripped to the waist, dauntless and resolute, not
about to fight with a common foe, but one that would prove cruel and
revengeful in the extreme. The wind was extremely light, and the
stranger closed very slowly. The suspense was awful. In a short time
we might be engaged in a deadly struggle with a vastly superior foe, and
deadly all determined that it should be. Nearer and nearer the stranger
drew; at length our captain hailed. The answer came: "The _Huzzar_!
Lord Garlais! from the West Indies." She anchored close to us, and we
exchanged visits. Her people, ignorant of the mutiny, could not
understand the necessity of the precaution we had taken. They were so
struck, when made acquainted with what had occurred, at the bravery and
determination of our ship's company, that they immediately swore they
would stick by us, and that, should any ship be sent to take us back to
the Nore, they would share our fate, whatever that might be. I am sure
that they would have proved as good as their word, but daylight came,
and no enemy appeared. We lay here for some time, that Sir Harry might
ascertain what was occurring on shore. He found that most active and
energetic measures were being taken to repress the mutiny, and in a few
days we heard that the ship's company of the _Sandwich_ had taken her
into Sheerness, and allowed their late leader, Parker, to be arrested by
a guard of soldiers, sent on board for that purpose by Admiral Buckner.
We sailed for Plymouth, and another ship was appointed to have the
honour of taking over the Princess Royal.
I must say a word or two about that mutiny. I am convinced that the
proportion of disaffected men was comparatively small. The seamen had
grievances, but those would have been redressed without their proceeding
to the extremities into which they plunged, led by a few disappointed
and desperate men like Parker. Had greater energy been shown from the
first, during some of the opportunities which occurred, the whole affair
might have been concluded in a more dignified manner, at a much earlier
date. I will instance one occasion. Having one day got leave from the
delegates of our ship, while we lay off Sheerness, to go on shore, I
landed at the dockyard. I found, as I passed through it, that I was
followed by the whole body of delegates, walking two-and-two in
procession, Parker and Davis leading, arm-in-arm. Just as we got
outside the gates, the Lancashire Fencibles appeared, coming to
strengthen the garrison. As soon as the seamen got near the soldiers,
they began to abuse them in so scurrilous a manner, that the officer in
command halted his men, and seeing the admiral and superintendent, close
to whom I at the time was standing opposite the gates, he came, and,
complaining of the insults offered to himself and men, asked permission
to surround and capture them. So eager did I feel, that I involuntarily
exclaimed, "Yes! yes! now's the time!" The admiral, on hearing me,
turned sharply round, and demanded how I dared to speak in that way?
"Because there they all are, sir, and we may have them in a bunch!" I
replied, pointing to Parker, Davis, and the rest. The admiral told me
that I did not know what I was saying; but I did, and I have no cause to
suppose that I was wrong.
When the truly loyal and heroic conduct of our ship's company became
known, it was intended to raise a sum in every seaport town in England
to present to them. From some reason, however, the Government put a
stop to it, and the only subscription received was from Ludlow in
Shropshire, from whence the authorities sent 500 pounds to Sir Harry
Neale, which he Distributed to the ship's company on the quarter-deck.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. The "Solent Sea" is the name of the channel between the Isle of
Wight and the mainland.
Note 2. The plan was proposed and executed by the late Mr W. Bardo,
pilot, then a mate in the navy. He returned to the _San Fiorenzo_, and
piloted her as he had the _Clyde_, when her own pilot refused to take
charge.