A LINE OF BATTLE SHIP.
The ship arrives—Captain’s attempt to form a band—Sail
again—Attacked by rheumatic fever and invalided ashore—Ordered to
join H.M.S. _Tonnant_—Proceed to Mediterranean—At Oran:
experiences ashore.
The ship anchored at Cawsand Bay four days afterwards, when we joined her,
leaving the prizes in charge of the agent. I found her with the yellow
flag flying at the masthead. She had been put in quarantine on her
arrival, which we paid off with the foretop-sail, as we sailed the day
after for a six weeks’ cruise in the chops of the Channel. At the end of
that period we returned to our anchorage with another French brig laden
with Colonial produce. Our gallant and would-be musical captain consulted
us all respecting harmonious sounds, but, alas! we were weighed in the
musical balance and found wanting. This, however, did not discourage him.
Nine of the crew came forward with three of the marines, offering
themselves as candidates for the band. The captain, after having consulted
one of the sergeants of marines, who played the hautboy, whether anything
might be made of the men who had come forward as musicians, it was
determined _nem. con._ that a pease-barrel should be manufactured into a
big drum, that two ramrods should be metamorphosed into triangles, that
the two bassoons and the hautboy taken in the French frigate should be
brought into action without loss of time, that the marine and ship’s
fifer, with the marine drummer, should be drilled with the others, under
the direction of the sergeant, in the captain’s cabin twice a day, and a
horrible confusion of unmusical sounds they made for more than six weeks.
The skipper was in his glory, and everybody else amazed. Some of my
messmates prayed for them heartily, particularly the first lieutenant, who
thought the captain musically mad. The mids declared they never would be
respectable enough to be called a band, but would be bad enough to be
called a banditti, as they looked more like brigands than musicians.
We had nearly completed our water and stores, when I was ordered to the
dockyard with the launch for the remainder and two anchor-stocks. It was
blowing fresh, and in consequence I desired the leaves of the anchor-stock
to be triced up under the oars outside the boat, that in case of shipping
a sea we might be able, if necessary, to cut them away. The last leaf was
lowered down to the boat, when I felt a touch on my shoulder. I turned
quickly round, when my nose, which is not very short, came in rude contact
with a cocked hat, which it nearly knocked off the head of the wearer. It
was the admiral, who was in stature a King John’s man, four feet nothing.
I immediately pulled off my hat and apologised. “What are you doing, sir,”
said he to me, “with these anchor-stocks?” “Tricing them up outside the
boat, sir,” replied I. “Why do you not boat them?” I explained my reasons
for not doing so. After a short pause, he said, “You are perfectly right.
What ship do you belong to?” I informed him. He wished me good evening,
and I repaired on board. The morning after we sailed, and in three days we
joined the Channel fleet under Lord Gardner. For two long, lingering
months we had our patience exercised, jogging backwards and forwards like
a pig on a string. The _Prince_ was our leader, and the ship astern of us
the _Spartiate_. The former sailed like a haystack, the latter like a
witch, and the sailors declared she was built of stolen wood, as she
always sailed best at night. One squally night I was lieutenant of the
middle watch, when the _Prince_ split _her_ maintop-sail, and we were in
consequence obliged to show a light astern and shorten sail. The
_Spartiate_ shot up, and was nearly on board of us. The captain, hearing a
bustle, was soon on deck. “What are the fleet about?” asked he. “What is
the matter with that beastly _Prince_?” I informed him. “And what the
devil is the _Spartang_ doing on our weather quarter?”
“Why,” replied I, “if the _Prince_ and the _Spartiate_ could divide their
sailing, we should do very well; but we are very critically placed, being
constantly obliged to shorten sail for the former, for fear of pooping
her, and in so doing we are in our turn in danger of being pooped by the
latter.”
“Have you showed a light to the _Spartang_?” demanded he, for he always
called her by that unheard-of name. I answered in the affirmative. “D——n
that _Prince_,” resumed he, “_she_ ought to be ordered out of the line.
When I go on board the admiral, I will report her.” The ships again fell
into their stations, and the captain took his in his cot. It was now the
depth of winter, and the weather very severe. I had caught cold which
confined me to my cot, and when we arrived at Plymouth I had a violent
rheumatic fever. I was carried on shore to sick quarters in blankets, and
before I was sufficiently recovered the ship sailed.
When I was strong enough I requested permission from the admiral to go to
London, which was granted. I had a run in the country for a few months,
for I soon got tired of noisy, smoky London. Soon after this I was
informed by the Admiralty that I was superseded in the last ship, and
ordered to Portsmouth to join the _Tonnant_, an eighty-four. A few days
after receiving my commission, I joined this glorious ship of ships. When
I took a perspective view of her gun-decks, I thought her an equal match
for any ship afloat, and so she certainly was, and nobly proved it
afterwards. Her gallant commander, Captain Troubridge, was from the
Emerald Isle; had a slight touch of the brogue, and was replete with
anecdote; he was good-humoured and a gentleman, and he never punished a
man unless he richly deserved it. My messmates were all young men, and
generally speaking well informed, with the exception of the master, who
was a countryman of mine, and desperately fond of doggerel verse as well
as cray-fish and conger eels.
We were again destined to make one of the Channel fleet, when to our great
joy, after tacking and half-tacking for six weeks, we were ordered with
some more ships of the line under Admiral Collingwood to proceed off Cadiz
to watch the motions of the Spanish and French fleets, after the scratch
they had with our fleet under Sir R. F. Calder. We occasionally ran into
Gibraltar for refreshments and stores. On one of these occasions the
Port-Admiral took it into his head to hoist his flag on board of one of
the active ships, and ordered us with two others to make sail out of the
harbour. As we were not acquainted with his object, we presumed he wanted
to purify his constitution by a strong sea-breeze; if so, he was
disappointed, as it fell calm two hours after we cleared Europa Point, and
during the night we were under the shells and shot of Ceuta, which
fortunately fell harmless. The day after we reached our former anchorage
at Gibraltar, where we found Sir Richard Bickerton, who took us under his
orders to cruise off Carthagena, where three Spanish line of battle ships
were lying ready for sea.
On our way thither we anchored in Oran roads to procure bullocks for the
squadron. As soon as the sails were furled a Turkish officer, dressed
something like that figure of fun called Punch, came on board us, as we
were the nearest ship, to inquire if the fort saluted us what number of
guns would be fired in return. We referred him to the flag-ship; he took
his departure with his interpreter who spoke broken English. About 1 P.M.,
whack came a large shot from the fort nearly into the bow, and presently
several more. At first, as shot were fired so close to us, we could not
exactly tell what was intended until the nineteenth shot was fired, when
the battery was silent. The flag-ship returned seventeen guns. On inquiry
we found that these barbarians always salute with shot, and endeavour to
send them as near you as possible by way of compliment.
About 3 P.M. three principal Turkish officers came on board, the youngest
of whom was the commander or governor of the town. The purser, who had
been eyeing him with a wicked look, said to us, “I’ll make that fellow
drunk before he leaves the ship.” He had expressed a wish to see the ship,
and I offered to take him round the decks. In the meanwhile the purser
went to his cabin, mixed some strong punch, and made some sherbet. “Now,”
said he to me, “when you show him the cockpit, hand him into my cabin.”
The Pacha admired the ship and the guns, and said it was the largest
vessel he had seen. He spoke a little broken English. At length we came to
the purser’s cabin which was neatly fitted up and well lighted. The Turk
was requested to repose himself on the sofa, and to take some sherbet.
“First of all,” whispered the purser to me, “we will try him with the
punch.” A glass was accordingly handed to him, and we filled others for
ourselves. It went down his throat like mother’s milk. He declared it was
the best sherbet he had ever drunk, and asked for another glass of it.
Down that went without a pause. “He’ll do,” whispered the purser, “he is a
true Mussulman; he prefers stiff punch to cobbler’s punch.” A tureen was
now filled with yet stronger punch, of which he took three more tumblers,
and down he fell. He was laid on the sofa until his friends were ready to
leave the ship. When they came from the captain’s cabin, where they had
been taking refreshments, they inquired for the sub-governor. After some
delay and more difficulty he made his appearance. His turban had fallen
off, and his countenance was ghastly. He was so helpless that he was
obliged to be lowered into the boat, to the astonishment and terror of all
those who had brought him off, and to the amusement of all our officers
and crew.
The following morning I received orders to go on shore with three boats,
each containing two barrels of powder and a half barrel of musket balls as
a present to the Bey. On our arrival alongside a kind of quay, hewn out of
the solid rock, a number of Moors rushed into the boats and seized on the
ammunition. I desired the boats’ crews to take the stretchers and give
them some gentle raps on their petit toes, which made them soon jump back
again. I then ordered the boats to lie on their oars, and seeing a person
who looked something in the shape of an Irishman, I asked him if he would
go to the English Consul and inform him that I should not land anything
until he made his appearance. “Shure,” said he, “I am the Consul’s
secretary; won’t that do, so please ye?” “No,” replied I, “nothing less
than the Consul.” “He has not finished his dinner yet, sir,” was the
answer. “Now,” said I, “Mr. Consul’s secretary, if you do not immediately
go to the Consul and acquaint him that I am waiting for him, I will go on
board, and you will all be hanged by the sentence of a court-martial.”
“Oh, sir, I shall be there in no time at all. Do not leave the harbour
until you see me again.” “Run,” returned I, “for your life depends on your
expedition.” The poor man, I believe, was as frightened as he appeared
ignorant.
In about seven minutes down came a tall, large-boned Yankee-kind-of-person
with the before-mentioned secretary. “Will you, if you plaise, permit the
boats to come on shore, sir,” he called out; “I am His Majesty’s Consul.”
We again got alongside the jetty. “Now, Mr. Consul,” said I—“My name is
Murphy, sir, if it’s not bad manners.” “Well, Mr. Murphy, if any of those
barbarians dare come into the boats, they will be thrown overboard. Our
men will put the barrels on the rocks, and they may take them, but you
will give me a receipt for them.” “Shure that I’ll do for you, sir, in a
few minutes. Will you favour me with your company to my house?” “By no
means; my orders are not to set a foot on shore. But if you will purchase
for me half a dozen of small bottles of otto of roses I will thank you. I
cannot remain,” added I, “more than a quarter of an hour longer.” Whilst
we were waiting for His Majesty’s Consul, who, I need not hint, was an
Irishman, an animal made its appearance which the boat’s crew declared was
a woman. It was clad in a coarse, light brown wrapping gown almost in the
shape of a sack with the mouth downwards, with two small holes in the
upper part for the eyes. As soon as it came near the boats it was driven
away by the Moors. At length Mr. Murphy made his appearance with the
requisite piece of paper and eight bottles of otto of roses, for which he
did not forget to ask a good price. He informed me that bullocks would be
sent off to the squadron next morning. We repaired on board, when my
captain asked me if the Bey had sent me a sabre. “No,” replied I, “I have
received nothing.” “Then,” said he, “he is worse than a Turk; he ought to
have given you one.”
The day after we received twelve bullocks not much larger in size than an
English calf, and I, with one of my messmates, went on shore outside the
town. The soil we found very sandy. I took out my sketch book, and had
drawn the outline of the batteries, when an armed Arab rode up to us at
full gallop on a beautiful, small, dark chestnut horse. My messmate wore a
highly polished steel-hilted hanger, the brightness of which, as it
glittered in the sun’s rays, attracted the Arab’s attention. He spoke
broken English, and asked to look at it. “Yes,” said my companion, “if you
will let me look at yours.” He took it from his side without hesitation
and presented it to him. The Arab admired the workmanship of the English
sword, and then examined the blade. We had inspected his, and found it
fine Damascus steel. “Will you exchange,” said my messmate. He made a most
contemptuous grimace at the question. “I tell you what,” said he, “English
very good for handle, but Arab better for blade.” He then put spurs to his
horse and galloped away, chuckling the whole time.
As we had not permission to enter the gates of the town we amused
ourselves by examining the houses outside, which were low and whitewashed.
The windows were few, small and high, and some of these mean,
wretched-looking hovels were surrounded by a mud and sand wall. We saw
only Moors and a few Arabs. The country higher up appeared green and
fresh, although much rock and sand abounded. The harbour, or rather bay,
is small, and its depth of water from two to five fathoms. The principal
battery is built on a solid tongue of rock which curves outward and forms
a kind of harbour. I remarked the Spanish arms on the centre of it, and on
inquiry I found it had been placed there by Charles the Fifth when he
landed and took possession of the town.
On the morning of the third day we were under sail for Carthagena. On
nearing the harbour, which is strongly fortified by an island at its
mouth, we discovered two Spanish ships of the line at anchor, but so close
under the island that it was impossible to make any impression on them.
The next day they removed into the harbour and struck their top-masts. We
cruised between Capes di Gata and Palos for a fortnight, occasionally
looking into Carthagena to see if the Spaniards would take the hint.
Finding all our wishes and hints fruitless, we left a frigate and a brig
sloop to watch their motions and shaped our course for Gibraltar. Near the
small island of Alberaw we fell in with two frigates convoying twenty sail
of levanters, the commodore of which called me brother-in-law. As the wind
was light I had permission to spend the day on board his frigate, where I
partook of an Italian dinner, more shadow than substance, and after coffee
I repaired on board my own ship, where I ordered something substantial to
eat, as the Italian dinner had provoked a good appetite. We anchored at
old Gib four days afterwards, and were ordered to refit with all
expedition and join once more Admiral Collingwood off Cadiz, where the
French and Spanish fleets still remained and were apparently ready for
sea.