1853–4--LIFE ON BOARD A MAN OF WAR
Her Majesty Queen Victoria with a steam fleet defeats a squadron
of sailing line-of-battle ships--Rough weather in the
Channel--Ship nearly wrecked in Grecian Archipelago--My first
command--At Sinope--Captain Michell’s seamanship--I become a
Midshipman--William Peel--Cholera in the Fleet--Reconnaissance
of the Crimea.
The young Bluejackets of H.M.S. _Queen_, trained under zealous and
efficient officers, improved rapidly in seamanship, and on the 11th
August 1853, did well in a Royal Review off the Isle of Wight.
Her Majesty’s ships _Prince Regent_ and _Queen_ with three steamers
represented an enemy cruising off St. Helen’s, and Her Majesty the
Queen, in the _Victoria and Albert_, led nineteen men-of-war steamers
to attack us.
The British fleet advanced in a crescent formation and nearly
surrounded their opponents, the Commanders of which, after expending
a quantity of blank ammunition, struck their colours in obedience to
a signal from the Senior officer, when Her Majesty going on board the
tender _Fairy_ passed round the captured vessels.
The Fleet dispersed a few days later, and our young crew was severely
tested, H.M.S. _Queen_ being caught in a heavy gale, which after
tossing us about under close-reefed topsails, which were on two
occasions blown away, obliged us to run for shelter into Torbay. During
the gale the ship’s bow and stern rose alternately high out of the
water, as she pitched in a choppy sea, and a wave striking the rudder
violently, made the wheel revolve with such force as to throw two of
the helmsmen right over it, one being severely injured. The wheels on
the upper and main deck were then double manned, but it was necessary
to control the swaying tiller in the gunroom with steadying tackles, in
all thirty-two men being employed for some hours in steering the ship.
The temptations of Plymouth were too much for the probity of our
Mess, and Wine caterers, a Clerk, and a Master’s Assistant, who
misappropriated over £200. Three months later they were tried by Court
Martial in the Bosphorus, and dismissed the Service, the one who was
the more guilty getting six months’ imprisonment; but the money had
to be repaid, and in the gunroom our bill of fare up to and including
Christmas Day varied only to the extent, say Sundays salt pork and
plain duff with sugar, Mondays salt beef and pease pudding, while we
had to continue paying our usual Mess bills, those of a Midshipman
being limited to 30s. per mensem, and a wine bill not exceeding 7s. 6d.
Tourists who steam past Cape Matapan, the southern point of Greece,
in a few hours, may find it difficult to realise that H.M.S. _Queen_,
although an unusually good sailer, took seven days to round that
promontory. We were nearly wrecked in trying to beat through the Doro
Channel. The passage lies between the islands of Negropont and Andros,
the most northerly of the Cyclades, there being about six miles from
land to land. The wind was north-east, blowing freshly, and dead
against us; we were, however, nearly through, but just before dark on
the 9th November, when the helm was put down in our last tack, which
would have taken us clear, the jib halliards carried away, and the
ship missing stays, gathered stern way. We drifted so close to the
rocky cliffs of Andros that one might have thrown a biscuit on shore. A
staysail brought the ship’s head round in time, however, and “wearing,”
we lay for the night under the lee of the island. Next day the breeze
increased to a gale, and the ship was kept under reefed courses, till
the mainsail splitting, was replaced by the fore staysail. On the 11th
December the Captain bore up, and ran back to Milo, there to remain
till the gale blew itself out.
The harbour being landlocked, the sea was calm, as we duly saluted
His Excellency the Governor, who came on board. Some hours later he
returned to complain that one of the Midshipmen, in practising with his
new pistol, had shot the Governor’s donkey. His Excellency was well
satisfied with twenty dollars, which my messmate had to pay for his
pistol practice.
When we left Milo we had a fair wind up to Constantinople, and from
the Golden Horn on to Beicos Bay, where we joined the Allied Fleet. We
remained for ten days at anchor amidst lovely scenery in the Strait,
which varying from half a mile to two miles, separates Europe from Asia.
On the 3rd January the combined fleets weighed to proceed to Sinope,
where five weeks earlier a Turkish squadron of seven frigates had
been destroyed by the Russian Fleet. H.M.S. _Queen_ and two French
line-of-battle ships had reached the northern end of the Strait, when
our progress was arrested by signals. The greater part of the fleets
had been less prompt in getting under way and making sail, and the wind
veering to the N.N.W. and bringing with it a fog, the fleets anchored
again in Beicos Bay, the _Queen_ remaining just inside the Bosphorus.
Next morning both fleets entered the Black Sea with a southerly wind,
and proceeded to Sinope, the Admiral signalling, “The ships and
territories of Turkey throughout the Black Sea are to be protected,
under any circumstances, from all aggression.” We reached the Bay,
which is a fine natural harbour on the northern extremity of Asia
Minor, on the 6th January. The town had suffered considerably from the
Russian shells, two streets being entirely demolished, and amongst
the wrecks of the Turkish squadron floated corpses of its indomitable
crews. Three Russian men-of-war were off the port on the 4th,
forty-eight hours before our arrival, and so narrowly escaped capture,
or destruction.
The town of Sinope, then containing about 10,000 inhabitants, is
beautifully situated, but perhaps its greatest world-wide interest
consists in its being the birthplace of Diogenes. The surrounding
country is fertile, with many wooded valleys, which my messmates and
I explored to our great pleasure on the Governor’s horses, favoured
by summer-like weather, though while at sea we had suffered from the
intense cold. The fleets were back again in Beicos Bay on the 22nd
January, and there remained at anchor for two months.
I got into trouble at the end of February, the result of obeying
orders. A Greek brig drifting down the Bosphorus, flying signals of
distress, grounded on the Asiatic side, and our Commander sent the
launch with the stream anchor, and the cutter of which I was in charge,
to warp her off shore. This was accomplished after a hard day’s work.
When we were about to return, the Senior officer wanted a glass of
grog, and ordered me to put him on board the brig, the grateful Captain
of which proffered refreshments.
I took the cutter to the gangway, where my Superior could have
ascended on the battens, assisted by a man rope, but he being stout
and inactive, preferred the rope ladder suspended from the stern, and
ordered me to go there. In vain I urged the swirling stream might cause
the cutter’s bow to be injured. He insisted on obedience, and my fears
being realised, we had to go back in the launch, leaving the cutter
with her bow stove in, hauled up on the beach. On returning on board I
was severely reprimanded by the Commander. In my defence I submitted
I was obliged to obey the order after I had pointed out its risk. He
replied, “I don’t care, sir; you were in charge of the boat, so you are
responsible.”
Three months later I was again censured, but this time because I had
tried to assert my command. We were lying at the time in Kavarna Bay,
and the ship’s crew had leave to go on shore by detachments. In the
evening two boats were sent to bring them on board, a cutter for the
officers, and a barge for the Bluejackets. A Lieutenant ordered me to
take into the cutter some of the men. I paid for extra painting of the
boat, and wanting to keep her neat and clean, begged that the men might
go off in the barge, but was told peremptorily to obey orders. While
we were pulling out to the ship, about two and a half miles off, some
of the men became noisy, and the Lieutenant ordered me to keep them
quiet. I replied to the effect it was useless to talk to drunken men,
and when we got on board was reported for hesitating to obey orders.
The Commander lectured me severely, predicting I should come to the
gallows; nevertheless, I suppose he was generally satisfied with me,
for a few days before we left the Bosphorus again, I got, at the age
of sixteen, my first independent command. Some links in an adjunct
to our chain cable, technically called a “Blake stopper,” had become
strained, and I was ordered to take it to the Turkish dockyard at
Constantinople, to have them put into a furnace and straightened.
This involved absence from the ship for a couple of days, and with
the difficulties of language required some tact, but was successfully
carried out.
I was possibly chosen for this outing because, before we left England,
I had already had some practice in handling a boat, and in the winter
of 1852–53 Captain Michell commended me warmly, for him a very unusual
act. His daughter, who was staying with him on board the _Queen_, then
lying just inside the breakwater which shelters Plymouth Sound, was
expecting her son, eight years old, now a distinguished Judge, Sir
George Farwell, for a visit. When I left the ship for Mount Wise there
was a fresh westerly wind blowing, which before we started to return
had increased considerably, and no shore boat ventured to put out to
the Sound. We pulled the cutter out to Redding Point, under shelter
of Mount Edgcumbe, and then, having close-reefed the sail, stood out
till we were under lee of the ship, which was lying head to wind, and
got the future Judge up the stern ladder in safety. Indeed, I became
so fond of being away in boats, and thus escaping lessons under the
Naval Instructor, that he felt bound, as I see by my letters, to get
me relieved for a short time, to ensure my passing the two-yearly
examination, which I did in due course two years after entering the
Service, and thus was enabled to have my jacket adorned with the
Midshipman’s white patch.
The Allied fleets weighed anchor again on the 24th March to enter
the Black Sea, and, as a fleet, there remained for over two years.
The start was unfortunate. One of the French men-of-war ran aground.
The English flagship collided with two vessels in succession, and
this enabled our Captain to prove his seamanship and local knowledge.
Fifteen years earlier he had commanded a corvette, and later a frigate,
which were often in the Bosphorus, and seeing the misfortunes around
him decided to sail up, although the wind was not favourable. He
ordered the towing hawser to be let go, and hailing H.M.S. _Furious_,
desired the Captain to offer help to the Admiral.
We made all plain sail: the Captain knew the soundings and currents
thoroughly, and stood so close in to the shore at Therapia, before he
put the ship about, as to startle his crew. The Admiral, generous
in his appreciation of the seamanship shown, signalled “Well done,
_Queen_,” a signal repeated at least twice within the next few months.
No other line-of-battle ship went up the Bosphorus that day under sail,
and the _Queen_ had to make five tacks ere she entered the Euxine. Our
Captain’s nerve was as good at sixty-five as it was at Algiers in 1816.
We cruised for some days, and then anchored in the Bay opposite to the
little town of Baljic, about twenty-five miles north of Varna. Our life
on board ship was enlivened by frequent competitions in the Fleet;
H.M.S. _Queen_, called a Symondsite, built after the design of Sir
William Symonds, was only 247 feet in length, with 50 feet beam. She
was the fastest sailer of all the line-of-battle ships, when beating
to windward, and was excelled only by H.M.S. _Agamemnon_, when sailing
with the wind abaft the beam.
The men were always eager and excited when the signal having been
made, “chase to windward,” our ship crossed the bows of all other
line-of-battle ships. As every foot of canvas the spars and stays would
support was spread, the lee guns were always run in, and the watch on
deck ordered to lie down up to windward, to counteract the heeling
over of the ship caused by the pressure on the sails. The varying
speed of ships was found to be inconvenient later, when the Allied
fleets cruised off the Crimea coast, and H.M.S. _Queen_ was often
detached with the fastest French line-of-battle ship, _Marengo_, placed
temporarily under Captain Michell’s command.
We heard on the 9th April that war was declared, but the French Admiral
for some reason did not get the official news for a week later, when
three cheers given for war by the English Fleet were repeated by the
Allies in unison. On the 17th April we sailed for Odessa, and anchored
four miles off the city on the 21st. Next morning the steamers circling
round in succession, bombarded the batteries without losing many men,
though H.M.S. _Terrible_ was hulled eleven times, and the _Vauban_
set on fire by a red-hot shot. Indeed, the Russian gunners were not
sufficiently well trained to make the contest equal, and after four of
their magazines had been exploded their guns were silenced.
H.M.S. _Arethusa_, a 50-gun frigate, engaged a battery five miles off
the city in the style of our grandfathers’ actions. She was under
all plain sail, employed to intercept merchant ships trying to escape
along the coast, when the Russians’ battery opened fire, and for half
an hour an animated fight was maintained by the frigate as she tacked
in towards, and out from the land. The Admiral’s signal “Recall” was
disregarded, until he ordered, “_Arethusa’s_ Captain, come on board.”
This brought the frigate out, but having dropped the Captain into
his gig the First Lieutenant took the ship back, and recommenced the
action, when a more peremptory signal, emphasised by the firing of a
gun, ensured obedience.
The young generation of Captains had never been in action, and were
naturally eager to smell powder. A steamer bringing despatches arrived
during the bombardment, and crossing the Admiral’s bows went in to take
part with the other steamers in the operations against the batteries,
but was soon recalled in terms admitting of no evasion. I was away all
day in a boat intercepting small vessels, and as most of them were
laden with oranges, our Mess was well supplied for some time.
Three weeks later, while the Allied fleets were cruising off
Sevastopol, H.M.S. _Tiger_ ran ashore in a dense fog near the spot
where H.M.S. _Arethusa_ engaged the battery. Captain Giffard behaved
with great gallantry, but was severely wounded, and with his crew
became prisoners of war. The officers liberated on parole were
well rationed and lodged, and the Governor’s wife sent dishes from
her kitchen daily for the wounded. The Bluejackets were less well
housed, and disliked the Russian ration, ¾ lb. black bread and 4 oz.
indifferent meat.
While we were cruising off the Crimea we were enveloped by a fog for
six days early in May, and hearing guns signalling as we thought an
order to anchor, we let go our stream anchor in 89 fathoms.[13] We rang
bells and fired muskets every half-hour, but it was so calm that there
was little danger of a collision even to ships under way. The dense
fog caused much trouble and perplexity to feathered creatures, and our
decks and rigging became for forty-eight hours the resting-place for
numbers of pretty horned owlets. They were so exhausted as to allow
anyone to pick them up, and many Midshipmen and sailors tried, though
I believe ineffectually, to tame them.
One of my messmates died at this time from erysipelas in the face.
Three nights before his death I stopped him going overboard, when
he tried in a fit of delirium to drown himself. He had sent for me
previously in the middle watch to tell me to make his coffee, which
I had been in the habit of doing at two o’clock in the morning. We
were friends in spite of a punishment he gave me, the marks of which
I carry now, fifty years after the event. When we were on our passage
from England to the East, I remarked on one of his unpleasant habits
at table, which all the youngsters in the gunroom--about twenty-five
in number--resented; I was, I admit, very impertinent. He came round
to my side of the table, and lifting me from the seat, put me on the
stern-sheets locker; then, sitting on my chest, he took my hand,
and bent the tip of the little finger nail down till the nail bled
copiously at the root.
On the 6th July, the cutter of which I had charge won a race open to
the Fleet. When we were practising for the race, I removed one of the
men, a weak oar, replacing him by a spare number. The man resented my
action, and a few days later got me severely punished. There was a
Fleet Order that officers in charge of boats would, while waiting near
the shore, keep the crew in the boat. The intention of the order was
to guard against trouble with the inhabitants; but at Baljic, after
the first week, it was so universally disregarded that the men were
always allowed on shore, and were not ordered back even if we saw a
Senior officer approaching. At the appointed hour the crew of the boat
returned with exception of the aggrieved sailor, and I found him in a
Greek wineshop fighting with some of the inhabitants. Four men carried
him down, struggling, to the beach, and put him somewhat roughly into
the boat. He jumped out, and started, as he said, to swim to the ship,
but was soon sufficiently sobered to shout for help. After we took
him in, he was so violent that it became necessary to lash him to the
bottom of the boat, and he volunteered the information that his main
pleasure in getting drunk was to spite me for taking him out of the
boat before the race. When I reported, on going on board, the Captain
sentenced the sailor to ten days’ imprisonment, and directed the
Commander to give me a severe punishment. He complied conscientiously,
and I got “Watch and watch,” including confinement to the ship. “Watch
and watch” meant four hours on, four off, in the twenty-four hours,
and as the culprit’s hammock was taken on deck daily at 6.30 a.m. and
he was not excused any duties which came round in his turn below, the
process resembled that by which the “Lion King,”[14] many years ago,
tamed his wild beasts.
The punishment was remitted after three weeks, I believe on the
recommendation of the doctor in charge of the ship. If, however, it
affected my health, it did not depress my spirits, and I joined every
evening in skylarking with my messmates, though I admit now, as I did
at the time, I feared doing many of the monkey-tricks which some of us
achieved, rather than be deemed to be less courageous than my comrades.
The game may be briefly described as that of Follow-my-Leader. Now, I
have always been giddy when on a height, and one evening nearly fell
from the main truck, which is the flat or slightly round piece of wood
crowning the top of the royal-mast, in H.M.S. _Queen_ 147 feet in
height. The cap or truck is about the size of a dinner-plate, and my
shoes being larger than it, protruded over its edges. I held on to the
lightning conductor, which reached my waistband, being so nervous as to
want to be sick, and at one moment almost let go my hold. It has always
puzzled me why some of us are giddy, while others have no nervous
apprehension of falling. When Her Majesty the Queen passed through the
Fleet off St Helen’s, on the 4th August 1853, and the ship’s company
having “manned yards” were cheering, I saw Private Buckle, Royal Marine
Light Infantry, remove the fore royal-mast lightning conductor, and
with folded arms balance on his head on the truck.
When we were at anchor in Baljic Bay, I fell overboard one evening when
acting as the “Leader” in one of these games. I had come down from the
main yardarm, on the brace, and was resting on the brace block, level
with the poop, when an officer trying to startle me opened a “quarter
gallery” window suddenly, with a shout. He succeeded, for I let go, and
falling fortunately immediately between two lower deck ports which
were open, reached the water after turning over twice in the air. I
made my shins bleed by striking the bulging outside of the ship, but
was able to swim to the boats made fast astern. Had I fallen on a
port--and there was little space between them--I must have been killed.
On the 20th July, General Sir George Brown, who commanded the Light
Division, and General Canrobert having embarked in our flagship, H.M.S.
_Britannia_, the Fleet stood across the Black Sea, heaving to, off
Fort Constantine, while we counted the Russian ships in the harbour of
Sevastopol, and tried to estimate the value of the defensive works.
Our steamers went in close enough to draw fire, but H.M.S. _Fury_ was
the only one hit. We remained on the coast a week, between Sevastopol
and Balaklava. After cruising for some days, H.M.S. _Queen_ was
detached with the _Marengo_, and our frigates, and Captain Michell as
Commodore signalling H.M.S. _Diamond_ to take letters into Varna for
the English mail, William Peel, her Captain, came on board for orders.
All our officers were anxious to see him, for he had already a Service
reputation as one of the best, though the youngest Post Captain. He was
the third son of that great Minister of whom the Duke of Wellington
said, “Of all the men I ever knew he had the greatest regard for
truth.” Sir Robert had died four years earlier, being mortally injured
when his horse fell with him on Constitution Hill.
William entering the Navy in 1838, had seen service on the Syrian Coast
and in the China War. He had passed such a brilliant examination after
six years’ service as to gain promotion at once, and two years later
became a Commander. After he became a Post Captain, when in command
of H.M.S. _Diamond_, Peel was sitting one day in the stern cabin
reading, dressed in frock coat and epaulets, when hearing a shout of
“Man overboard,” he ran to the stern window in time to see a Bluejacket
under the water; without a moment’s hesitation the Captain dived, but
the man had sunk, and was not recovered.
When I first saw this striking-looking man I had no idea that I was
to spend some months with such a highly-strung, nervous, gallant
gentleman, and whom I learned to love and esteem more and more daily,
as “the bravest of the brave.” In 1855, eight months later, I became
his Aide-de-Camp, and we were constantly together until the 18th June,
when we were both wounded and invalided to England. I was evidently
much struck with Captain Peel’s appearance and manners, for I recorded
in boyish language, “Captain Peel, very intelligent, sharp as a needle;
I never saw a more perfect gentleman.”
His looks and bearing were greatly in his favour, for both in face and
figure there was an appearance of what sporting men, in describing
well-bred horses, call “quality.” He was about medium height, with head
gracefully set on broad, well-turned shoulders, light in lower body,
and with a dignified yet easy carriage; his dark brown wavy hair was
generally carefully brushed back, showing an oval face, high square
forehead, and deep blue-grey eyes, which flashed when he was talking
eagerly, as he did when excited. His face when in repose had a somewhat
austere look, with smooth and chiselled outline, a firm-set mouth
which was the more noticeable because of his being clean-shaved. I do
not know that I have ever met so brave a man and yet one who felt so
acutely every shot which passed close to him.
When we returned to Baljic Bay, early in August, cholera had broken
out in the British camps near Varna. In addition to the 600 men who
died, each Division had a number of men equal to about a battalion,
who required change of air, and these were sent down to the Bosphorus,
while the physical efficiency of many of those who remained at duty
was seriously impaired, a fact which was not realised by those who
criticised the apparent slowness of the advance, and lack of enterprise
after the victory, on the Alma, six weeks later.
Cholera soon reached the Fleet.[15] As I showed in _The Crimea in
1854-’94_, the troops were insufficiently supplied with medical
equipment, but this could not be alleged as regards the sailors.
Indeed, one great advantage in the Naval Service lies in the fact
that a crew virtually goes on active service each time a ship
leaves harbour. Nevertheless, although we were amply supplied with
every requisite, our casualties were greater, because the men were
concentrated in one place. The French flagship lost 140, of whom 40
died the first night; our flagship lost about one-tenth of the ship’s
company; and none escaped except H.M. ships _London_ and _Queen_.
[Illustration: THE BLACK SEA]
The screams of a sufferer when seized with cramp often brought on other
seizures, and the scenes on a middle or lower deck were trying even
to strong nerves. We went to sea to try and shake off the disease. A
few days later, so many men were enfeebled by intestinal complaints,
that some of the ships, carrying crews of 700 to 1000 men, had not
sufficient Effectives to work the sails; and when we returned to our
anchorage, and the Admiral wanted his boat, officers had to prepare it.
I was sent on board the flagship with a party to furl sails, and while
the epidemic lasted we went at sunrise and sunset daily, to bury her
dead.
While the fleets were cruising in the Black Sea, the Allied Generals in
the _Caradoc_, escorted by H.M.S. _Agamemnon_, reconnoitred the bays
and mouths of rivers in the Crimea, from Eupatoria on the north to
Balaklava on the south.
Lieutenant-General Sir George Brown wished to land the troops on the
Katcha River, but Lord Raglan and his colleagues considered this was
undesirable owing to the proximity of the fortress, troops from which
might interrupt the disembarkation, and his Lordship chose Kalamita
Bay, six miles north of the Bulganac stream.
With one very important exception, the scarcity of potable water, the
spot selected was perfect. There was a long, low strip of shingly beach
rising gradually 200 yards from the shore, and immediately behind the
beach was a lake of brackish water, extending a mile from north to
south, and half a mile from west to east.