THE QUEEN'S YACHT.
I returned from the Cape to England. On arriving there I was appointed
to the Queen's yacht, as a reward for what their lordships at the
Admiralty were good enough to designate my active and zealous services
while employed in suppression of the slave trade.
To be appointed to Her Majesty's yacht was in those days considered a
very great distinction. Even now the Queen invariably chooses officers
who have seen what is called 'service.' Such an appointment, apart from
the honour of being so near Her Majesty, always tends to rapid
promotion.
The Queen at the time I write of was very fond of cruising in her yacht,
paying visits to foreign potentates, &c. Her Majesty had been then five
years married, with a young family springing up around her, and her
beloved husband the Prince Consort always with her, participating in
all her pleasures; so we, the officers of the Royal yacht, had a rare
time of it, were made a lot of wherever we went, and thought ourselves
very great men indeed. Amongst other trips, we conveyed the Royal family
up the Rhine, where Her Majesty visited the King of Prussia at
Stolzenfels.
Afterwards we went to the Château d'Eu, where Her Majesty was received
by King Louis Philippe and the Reine Amélie.
I shall never forget the condescending kindness of Her Majesty and
Prince Albert to all on board the Royal yacht. As to the Prince Consort,
he treated the officers more in the light of companions than
subordinates, always ready to join us in a cigar and its accompanying
friendly conversation.
Apropos of smoking, I cannot refrain from mentioning a little incident
that happened on board the 'Victoria and Albert,' that I, for one, shall
never forget. Her Gracious Majesty never approved of smoking, and it was
only through the kind consideration of the Prince Consort that we were
allowed to indulge in an occasional cigar in the cow-house. The
cow-house was a little place fitted up for two pretty small Alderney
cows, kept specially for supplying milk and butter for the Royal table.
Her Majesty was very fond of these animals and had the habit of
visiting them every day, and the young Princes used to be held up to
look in at the window, out of which there was room for the favoured cows
to stretch their heads. One evening we were smoking as usual when I
espied a pot of blue paint on the deck of the cow-house, with, as bad
luck would have it, a brush in the pot. I cannot say what induced me,
but I deliberately took the brush and painted the tips of the noses and
the horns of both animals a pretty light blue. Having done this I
thought no more of the matter. The next morning Her Majesty--well, I
think I had better say no more about it. I, the culprit, was denounced
and had to keep out of the way for a day or two. Then it was that the
good-natured Prince proved himself a friend, and got me out of my
scrape.
I passed two of the happiest years of my life in the Queen's yacht,
after which I was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and appointed to a
ship in the Mediterranean, where I passed for several years the usual
humdrum life of a naval officer during times of profound peace.
However, while serving as a lieutenant in the Mediterranean, I had the
advantage of taking part in one of the most interesting political events
of the century, namely, the flight of Pius IX. from Rome. The ship I
was in was stationed at Civita Vecchia, the sea-port of Rome, partly in
order to protect British interests--that is, the persons and properties
of British subjects--partly with the object of taking that half-hearted
part in religious politics which has always been such a humiliating rôle
for England.
We had an accredited agent, a nondescript sort of person, representing
England at the court of Pope Pius IX. This gentleman's duty was to watch
and report, but not to act. It was through him that England's idea of
the policy to be pursued by the Pope was conveyed. We did not, and we
did, want to interfere. The question of the balance of power of Italy as
an independent nation was too important to neglect; it was impossible to
separate altogether religion and politics. However, at the time I write
of things were rushing to a crisis.
The Pope, who a short time previously had been considered the great
supporter of liberty, was now looked upon as its enemy. Garibaldi was,
in a mad sort of way, fighting in its cause--at least, he professed to
do so. He had marched with a band of howling volunteers to the gates of
Rome, and established himself there as its conqueror, virtually making
the Pope a prisoner in the Vatican. In the meantime France interfered
in the Pope's cause, and sent General Oudinot with a small army to
dislodge Garibaldi. England's doubtful diplomatic relations made it
necessary to choose every sort of means of communicating with the Pope,
and I had the honour on more than one occasion of being the messenger
chosen to communicate, not only with His Holiness, but between Garibaldi
and the French commander. On the first occasion I was sent to Rome with
despatches from Lord Palmerston to be delivered (so said my orders) into
the Pope's own hands.
On my arrival at Rome I went straight to the Quirinal and asked to see
Cardinal Antonelli. When I informed him of my instructions, he said at
once, 'You may give your despatches to me; you cannot expect to see His
Holiness.' 'No, sir; to the Pope I will give my despatches, or take them
back again,' and from this decision no persuasions or threats would move
me. Finding me obstinate the Cardinal at last took me with him into a
room where the Pope was sitting. His Holiness seemed in a great state of
anxiety, but was most kind and condescending. He gave me his hand to
kiss, and congratulated me on having been so firm in obeying orders in
relation to my despatches. I afterwards found that these despatches
influenced very much the important step taken by Pio Nono a few days
afterwards.
Subsequently I several times conveyed communications between General
Garibaldi and General Oudinot. The former had most pluckily taken
possession of an important position inside the walls of Rome, and it was
a hard piece of work to dislodge him.
I used to gallop in between General Oudinot's camp and Garibaldi's
headquarters, having on my arm a red scarf for a sign that I was not a
belligerent. My scarf was not much use, however, as I was generally
fired at all the time that I was passing the space between the French
camp and Garibaldi's headquarters in Rome.
I was amused by the audacity with which Garibaldi resisted the French
army. I fancy he wanted to delay matters so that the Pope should be
induced to take the ill-advised step of leaving Rome, and in this the
republican general succeeded. What went on in Rome, the way in which the
Pope escaped, &c., I am not able to relate. All I know is that one fine
morning a simple carriage arrived from Rome at Civita Vecchia, bringing
a portly individual enveloped in the large cloak of an English coachman,
and another man in ordinary apparel. They strolled down to the place of
embarkation, and went quietly on board, not (as was expected) the
English man-of-war, but a French vessel-of-war which was lying with her
steam up.
This vessel then left the harbour, almost unnoticed, and it was not for
hours afterwards that we heard that His Holiness Pius IX. was the
humble-looking person who had embarked before our eyes, and thus got
away safely to Gaëta.