THE CHANNEL FLEET AND MEDITERRANEAN STATION
After a short leave I was appointed to the _Minotaur_, the Flagship of
the Channel Squadron, and found myself once more as a watch-keeping
lieutenant at sea, very pleased at having successfully eluded an
examination in high mathematics at Greenwich.
My time in the _Minotaur_ was one of the happiest of the whole of my
service afloat. She flew the flag of Vice-Admiral Charles Fellowes,
one of the most popular admirals in the Navy. My Souakim employer,
John Fellowes, was Flag-Captain, and amongst the lieutenants were my
old friend, Jimmy Startin, previously alluded to, and an old Red Sea
comrade, Oliver Young by name. Oliver was a great character. Very
good-looking, standing well over six feet, and of gigantic strength,
he was passionately fond of fighting whenever a decent opportunity
occurred; but at the same time he was no bully, and never exercised
his great skill and strength except in a good cause. There were many
amusing stories about him, and one of the best was the following:--
At one period of his career he was appointed as Junior Lieutenant
to a gunboat in the Mediterranean, whose First-Lieutenant had the
reputation of being the most disagreeable Commanding Officer in the
Service, and one who always made life as unpleasant as possible to
the unfortunate beings who were compelled to serve under his orders.
Oliver, when he joined, was perfectly aware of this fact. On joining
the gunboat, when pacing the deck with his new Commanding Officer, who,
of course, had not yet had time to show the cloven hoof, Oliver began
to expatiate on the joys of serving on a small craft, to his mind the
only life in the Navy that was really agreeable. He went on to say that
as long as everybody lived in harmony no life could be pleasanter. He
mentioned that he had been received in the most charming way by his new
messmates, and felt certain that he was going to be extremely happy in
his new post. Then he pensively added: "Of course, it is only one's
own fault if anybody on board makes himself disagreeable; nothing is
easier, on a dark night, than to catch hold of the delinquent and just
drop him overboard, and that settles the matter." The First-Lieutenant
said nothing, but being a little man, hardly reaching up to Oliver's
shoulder, he thought a great deal, and for the rest of the commission
treated his big subordinate with the greatest consideration.
Not long after the _Minotaur_ days, Oliver left the Service and went
into Parliament. But he never really recovered from a bad sunstroke
that laid him low at Souakim, and, to the great regret of his many
friends, both ashore and afloat, he died at a comparatively early age.
Another old _Minotaur_ friend was Sir Charles Cust, then a midshipman,
now Naval Equerry to His Majesty.
We were extremely well off for lieutenants in the flagship, so the
watch-keeping was far less onerous than in the _Superb_, the result
being, that leave ashore was much easier to obtain. Nearly the whole
winter was spent up the Tagus, and of Lisbon and its surroundings I
have the most pleasant recollections. We had a wonderful Opera Season,
with those incomparable artists, Mesdames Patti and Scalchi as prima
donna and contralto, the primo tenore being the great Massini, one of
the finest tenors of his days. We arranged a very comfortable omnibus
box at the Opera for ourselves, and as an enterprising native had
started an establishment where roulette was nightly played for the
special benefit(?) of the officers of the Fleet, and as there was
pigeon-shooting at the Sporting Club every Sunday, we certainly had
plenty of distractions. It was at the Sporting Club there, that I first
had the honour of making the acquaintance of King Carlos, who was so
foully murdered years afterwards in the streets of his capital. He was
a fine pigeon shot, and I was destined later on to see him shooting
in Norfolk, where his skill with the gun became quite a topic of
conversation.
But perhaps the happiest recollections of all were of the frequent
visits we used to pay to Cintra, where we were treated by the English
hotel-keeper and his family with the greatest kindness, and, moreover,
on what can only be described as the "most favoured nation" terms.
Among the many beautiful gardens in which we were allowed to stroll
about was that belonging to the Villa of Monserrate, which had
originally belonged to Beckford, the author of _Vathek_. It had been
subsequently acquired by the family of the present Sir Frederick Cook.
The present baronet, I believe, still retains the title of Vicomte de
Monserrate. I remember the guide always used to explain: "Dis de villa
of Vicomte de Monserrate, Mr. Cookey English!"
But there is no need for me to write at length on the beauties of
Cintra. Many have written about it; many more have seen that lovely
mountain of verdure that springs from what is apparently an absolutely
arid plain. To me it simply remains as one of the most beautiful places
I have ever seen, and one where I spent many happy days.
But life on board the _Minotaur_ was very far from consisting
entirely of amusement. Although we continued to use Lisbon as our
headquarters, the Squadron constantly went to sea for short cruises
and firing-practice. Moreover, sail-drill went on with almost the same
regularity as when I joined the Service. The _Minotaur_ had three
full-rigged masts, to say nothing of two light masts further aft, and
I, to my great delight, was in charge of one of the three. She also
possessed a very fine clear upper deck, so, when not competing with
other ships of the squadron, we could compete one mast against the
other, to our great satisfaction. My mind still dwells with pleasure on
the days of the old sailing frigates, and even on those of the rigged
iron-clads that succeeded them. The _Minotaur_ was to end sail-drill
so far as I was concerned, as, after leaving her, I never served in a
rigged ship again.
After a very pleasant winter, we started on a cruise, the first port
of call being Gibraltar. Our Admiral had latterly been far from well,
and on the way to Gibraltar was taken seriously ill. Shortly after
we arrived at Gibraltar there was a sudden collapse, and he died,
deeply to the regret of the officers and men of his squadron. The
_Minotaur_ was lying alongside the Mole, and for the first time since
the _Victory_ lay there with the mortal remains of Nelson on board,
an admiral's flag was to be seen flying half-masted in that historic
bay. His funeral having been ordered to take place in England, the
_Minotaur_ proceeded to Portsmouth with the utmost dispatch. The
funeral of a Flag-Officer, dying on service, is an impressive affair,
as becomes the rank of the deceased and the extreme rarity of the
occasion, there is something moving in the spectacle of the hoisting
out of the coffin, while the flag flutters slowly down, not to be
hoisted again until a successor comes on board to take over the command.
Our new Admiral turned out to be Sir William Hewett, V.C., a very
distinguished officer, who had won his Victoria Cross as a mate in
the Crimea. He had been lately commanding the naval forces on the
East Indian Station, and during the first Egyptian campaign had been
responsible for the occupation of Suez and the operations that were
terminated by the middle of August 1882 to complete our occupation of
the Canal. In February 1884, after Baker's defeat at El Teb, he had
landed a Naval Brigade at Souakim for the protection of the town, and
had accompanied Sir Gerald Graham when he fought a successful action
there, a fortnight later. Greatly to our satisfaction, Captain Fellowes
remained on with him as Flag-Captain.
In the days of which I am writing the ignorance of the British public
of everything regarding the Navy can only be described as colossal. Of
course at great naval ports, such as Chatham, Portsmouth and Plymouth,
the Navy was well known, but outside those three areas lived a huge
public who had never seen a man-of-war, and hardly ever seen a sailor
unless he happened to be on leave, and in plain clothes. The public
took not the slightest interest in anything that concerned that
Force, which (in the words of the special prayer that is read daily
on the quarter-deck of every ship in the Service) enables the British
public--in other words "the inhabitants of our Island"--to live in such
security that they "may in peace and quietness serve Thee our God." I
am completely unaware if it is generally known that the insertion of
this Prayer amongst other forms of prayer to be used at sea, in our
Liturgy, was due to the action of the Long Parliament. The gorgeous
language and rhetorical style of the whole Prayer is worthy of those
great days, when England was so mighty abroad. Oliver Cromwell, one of
the finest soldiers of the world, was keenly alive to the importance of
Sea Power, and always maintained a strong Navy.
I suppose the Admiralty thought it was nearly time that the public
should see something of one of the Forces for which they paid taxes,
and consequently the Channel Squadron was ordered to cruise round the
coasts of England and Scotland, besides which it was conveyed to those
in command that every facility was to be given to enable sight-seers
to visit the various ships of the Fleet to their hearts' content. At
some ports, Glasgow in particular, the tourists came literally in
thousands, and of course converted the ships into temporary pigsties
and bear gardens; but any trifling inconvenience of that sort was more
than amply repaid by the universal kindness and hospitality that we
received everywhere. The officers were invited to shoot over moors, of
which, up to that time, they had only dreamt, and the men were lavishly
entertained by all sorts of municipal authorities, and kind people in
the neighbourhood.
I personally, was in luck's way, as the shooting part of the business
was generally put into the hands of the Flag-Captain, and, being an
old friend, perhaps I got rather more than my fair share. Anyhow, I
can remember a first-rate grouse drive over one of Sir Michael Shaw
Stewart's best beats at Ardnagowan, and, later on, when the Fleet
lay at Cromarty Firth, a party of us stayed with Ross of Cromarty,
at Cromarty House, and had a capital day's mixed shooting. The Fleet
was also magnificently entertained at a ball during our stay in the
Firth, the great magnates of the district, including the then Duke of
Sutherland, the grandfather of the present Duke, figuring amongst the
hosts. Later on, whilst lying in the Firth of Forth, a party of us went
to Selkirk, staying a night at the hotel there, for the purpose of
shooting over one of the low-lying moors that the Duke of Buccleugh had
placed at our disposal. Without exception it was the best mixed day's
shooting in which I have ever taken part. It was early in October, and
towards the end of the day we were just off the moor itself, beating a
small cover for pheasants, and then I saw a sight which personally I
have never seen since. The beaters had included in their drive not only
the cover before mentioned but also a large stubble field. Being late
in the evening, the black game and grouse from the moors had got down
to the stubble to feed on the stooks. The result was that, driven to
the guns, and all in the air at the same time, were to be seen black
game, pheasants, grouse and partridges.
A little later on we were anchored off the Norfolk coast, and the last
shoot of the trip was from Yarmouth, where that splendid old sportsman,
Mr. Fellowes of Shotesham, provided the sport. The Flag-Captain was a
relative of Mr. Fellowes, and once more I was fortunate enough to be of
the party. We were given a fine day's partridge-driving by the Squire
of Shotesham, and personally I am glad to have known, if only for a
few hours, a man who, in his day, was not only one of the best shots
in the kingdom, but who also had the reputation of being able to ride
a half-broken three-year-old that was in the process of learning its
future business as a hunter, better than any one else in this country.
The visit to Yarmouth having terminated, the squadron was presently
back at Portsmouth again, and during the winter certain changes were
made among the officers, notably in the case of the Captain. It had
been arranged that Captain Fellowes was to go out to the Mediterranean
as Flag-Captain to Admiral H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh, who had been
selected for the important post of Commander-in-Chief of that Station.
So, at the end of 1885, he left, much to our regret, and was succeeded
by Captain Bouverie-Clark. On board the _Minotaur_ we soon found out
that, sorry as we might be to lose our old Captain, we had really lost
nothing by the exchange, for his successor was one of the most charming
men I ever served with.
Vice-Admiral Sir Bouverie-Clark, as he now is, had managed to see as
much active service as had been possible in the days of his youth, for,
as a midshipman, he had been present at the bombardment of Sveaborg in
the Baltic during the Crimean war, had later on greatly distinguished
himself by his gallantry when employed on the East Coast of Africa in
the suppression of the Slave Trade, and was also an officer in the
Naval Brigade that was landed during the New Zealand War in the early
'sixties. He was finally Director of Transports at the Admiralty for a
period of five years, from 1906 onwards.
The remaining six months which I spent in the _Minotaur_ were
uneventful, but another change was about to be made, as in July 1886 I
was appointed as First-Lieutenant to H.M. Dispatch Vessel _Surprise_,
then a brand-new ship.
[Illustration: GROUP ON BOARD H.M.S. "SURPRISE"
Lt. Hon. S. Fortescue H.R.H. Duchess of Edinburgh Com. Hon. M. Bourke
Admiral H.R.H. Duke of Edinburgh Lady Mary Fitzwilliam
]
The _Surprise_ and her sister ship, the _Alacrity_ were built to
replace respectively the old dispatch boats _Helicon_ and _Vigilant_,
which had been serving for years on the Mediterranean and China
Stations. Commander Charles le Strange, a very old friend of the
_Sultan_ days, was in command of the _Surprise_. He had recently
become an Equerry to H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh, who had already
taken over the command of the Mediterranean Station.
The _Surprise_ was a fairly useful vessel in many respects and could
have been made much better had not the Admiralty thought fit to arm her
with four or five 4½-inch guns, which she really was unfit to carry;
the weight might well have been utilised in other directions. The
accommodation aft for distinguished passengers was very good, and when
in harbour, as far as they were concerned, she was a very nice yacht;
but at sea, when steaming at any speed, the vibration was so terrific,
that very few of them could stand being aft, and they generally used
to come on the bridge and camp out there, which was not always very
convenient to the officers who were carrying out their duties. However,
the sea trips were generally short, and on the whole she answered
very well, and only disappeared from service a few years ago. Having
commissioned her, I was of course on board during her steam trials.
With picked coal, and, moreover, with (what is more important still)
picked stokers, she succeeded in going about eighteen knots on the
measured mile, and under the same favourable circumstances did quite
well on her six hours' full-speed trial, averaging nearly sixteen
knots. But we were to be bitterly disappointed in her performances
later on. Without adventitious aids she turned out to be a very
moderate steamer and not the best of sea boats. The first distinguished
passenger we were ordered to embark was the Duke of Connaught. His
Royal Highness was about to start for India, and wishing to curtail
the length of his journey, decided to travel to Marseilles overland,
from thence to be conveyed to Malta in the _Surprise_, where he could
hit off the P. & O. steamer which was to take him to his destination.
It became a question of accurate timing, as the P. & O. boats were in
the habit of staying but very few hours at Malta. Consequently, the
question arose of the number of hours it would take the _Surprise_ to
go from Marseilles to Malta. The Captain and I put our heads together,
and though we were much too old hands at the game to place very
implicit reliance in full-speed trials as conducted by the Admiralty,
we thought we could safely guarantee an average speed of thirteen
knots, which seemed to leave a very fair margin up our sleeves. About
the end of August we left the port of Marseilles with our Royal
passenger on board, steaming gaily some fourteen and a half knots. The
heat was very great, and the stokers, though very willing, were mostly
young hands, the coal was very far from being picked, so the speed of
the ship, in spite of every effort, gradually got lower and lower, and
we finally crawled into Malta at the ignoble speed of about ten knots,
a good many hours late. It was a very mortifying début to make on our
station, and it was a long time before we heard the last of it.
People interested in the Navy, who read the official accounts of the
trials of new ships that always used to be published in _The Times_,
may gather from this sad experience what a difference there is in
actual practice between the performances that are published, and what
is apt to be realised later on under normal conditions. (Eye-wash
again!)
From 1886 to 1888, during my term of service on board the _Surprise_,
the Mediterranean Station was at its zenith as regards strength and
importance. It had been looked upon for many years as the Blue Ribbon
of the Navy, and as regards the person of the Commander-in-Chief,
it naturally gained additional éclat from the fact that no less a
personage than H.R.H. Vice-Admiral the Duke of Edinburgh, the second
son of Queen Victoria, was Commander-in-Chief, with the local rank
of Admiral. His Royal Highness had hoisted his flag in February 1886
in the _Alexandra_, and in addition to her had seven of the most
modern of our armour-clad ships under his command, with a considerable
number of small craft, principally employed on service in the Red
Sea. The Admiral and many of his Captains have joined the majority,
but amongst others who are still with us, are the present Admiral Sir
Compton Domville, then Captain of the _Temeraire_, and subsequently
Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean Station; Admiral Sir Henry
Stephenson,[2] now Usher of the Black Rod, then commanding the
_Dreadnought_, had under his orders our present King, serving as a
Lieutenant on board that ship; Admiral of the Fleet Sir Hedworth Meux,
then Commander Lambton, in command of the _Dolphin_ sloop; another
Admiral, now the Marquis of Milford Haven, was, as Prince Louis of
Battenberg, Commander of the _Dreadnought_; while prominent among the
Lieutenants serving in the different ships were the late Admirals Sir
George Warrender, and Sir Frederick Hamilton, and the late Captain the
Hon. Hugh Tyrrwhitt. Admirals Sir Cecil Colville, Sir Colin Keppel and
Sir James Startin, all of whose names have already occurred in these
notes, Midshipman David Beatty of the _Alexandra_, now Admiral of the
Fleet Earl Beatty, are still, I am rejoiced to think, very much alive.
Malta, where I was to spend a great deal of my life for the next two
years, was very gay. The Duchess of Edinburgh passed the whole of the
winter there. The Governor had temporarily made over the palace of San
Antonio, with its wonderful orange gardens, to the Duke and Duchess
during their stay at Malta, so it was there that I first had the honour
of making the acquaintance of Her Imperial Highness and her children.
Her two eldest daughters were then only about eleven and twelve years
of age, but already gave promise of great beauty; indeed, the eldest,
the present Queen of Roumania, was, and still is, one of the most
beautiful and attractive women in the world. The Duchess herself, if
I may take the liberty of saying so, was, and is, a very remarkable
woman. For the only daughter of the Emperor Alexander (in those days
the greatest potentate in the world), it was in some ways rather a
step downwards to marry a second son, even though he was the son of
Queen Victoria; and, moreover, to be in a certain sense merely the
wife of an Admiral when the Duke was employed on the duties of his
profession; but she certainly succeeded, in her position as wife to
the Commander-in-Chief, in making herself extremely popular with the
Naval Officers at Malta. The dinners at San Antonio were infinitely
more agreeable and less stiff than the sort of entertainments which
were generally given at the various Admiralty Houses that I have known,
and a command to dine there was not only an honour but a very distinct
pleasure into the bargain.
Her Imperial Highness, like most of her compatriots, adored the South.
She was devoted to Italian art, and lost no opportunity of seeing
everything that was worth seeing in Italy and Sicily, and were I to
catalogue all the interesting places that the _Surprise_ visited in the
course of two years, sometimes in company with the rest of the Fleet,
and sometimes on detached cruises "on her own," the result would be
like nothing in the world so much as a portion of "Baedeker" on Italy.
But before saying anything more about trips, the main interest of which
consisted in seeing some of the wonders of Italy, I must write of two
or three cruises that were nothing if not official.
The first important duty which devolved on the _Surprise_, very shortly
after her arrival on the station, was to convey the Admiral, in his
dual capacity as a son of Queen Victoria and also as Commander-in-Chief
of the Mediterranean, to pay an official visit to the Sultan. This
visit was a very interesting one, and though I do not pretend to
any inside knowledge of the motives which inspired it, or made its
recurrence necessary, the following year, I have a shrewd suspicion
that what was evident to any spectator, was not very far remote from
the truth. The late Sir Edward Thornton, who was then our Ambassador
to the Sublime Port, had served his country with great distinction and
held many important posts. He had been Ambassador both at Washington
and Petersburg, but none the less it is possible that, being a
remarkably straightforward English gentleman, that hotbed of intrigue
and lies, the Turkish Capital, was not exactly the place for him. At
any rate, it was noticeable, even to an outsider like myself, that the
Duke's reception was distinctly of a cold nature. The last function of
the visit consisted in a dinner at the Yildiz Kiosque, at which the
Duke was the guest of the evening, most of his officers, I being one of
the number, being included in the dinner party. There was considerable
delay when the Englishmen arrived at the palace, and finally the Sultan
sent a message to say that he was unwell and unable to be present.
There was nothing for it but to dine, and it certainly seemed to me
as if the honours of the house were done by Monsieur Nelidoff, the
Russian Ambassador, who was known to be all-powerful at that moment,
and having been there for a good many years, was the natural doyen
of the Corps Diplomatique. Apparently, the Government at home were
distinctly dissatisfied with the reception that had been accorded to
an English Prince, who was also holding a very high official position,
and the upshot of it was that Sir Edward Thornton was withdrawn and
Sir William White, to whom allusion has already been made, was
appointed in his place. The Duke, to make the outgoing Ambassador's
departure more dignified, placed the _Surprise_ at his disposal, so,
later in the year, towards the end of October, we found ourselves in
Turkish waters again. The Ambassador was still at his summer residence
at Therapia, and embarked from there with Lady Thornton and his
daughters. His departure was certainly impressive enough, for all the
"_chers collègues_" came in their state caïques to see him off, and
the multitude of floral offerings reminded me of nothing so much as
a very expensive funeral. Anyhow, one is glad to think that a very
distinguished public servant, under such circumstances, had at any rate
a more fitting conveyance than an ordinary mail steamer, though I am
not sure that for the long passage, as it was to Marseilles, a mail
steamer might not have been a more comfortable ship in which to travel.
Next year the _Surprise_ again conveyed the Duke to Constantinople on
a similar mission, and this time there was no mistake about the way
in which he was received. We had hardly anchored in the Golden Horn,
and the usual official callers had barely arrived on board when a huge
caïque, with one of the Sultan's Aides-de-Camp, came alongside laden
up with every sort of thing--sheep, Turkish sweetmeats, countless
cigarettes and cases of champagne--with a message to say that not only
was the Duke the Sultan's honoured guest, but that His Majesty wished
every officer and man serving on board the _Surprise_ to consider
himself as a guest as well. The Sultan was, on this occasion, present
at the dinner at Yildiz and all went well.
Sir William White had lived the greater part of his life in the Middle
East and thoroughly understood how to handle the Turk. A diplomatist
of that nation once told me the following story which I believe to
be absolutely true. On one occasion, during Sir William's reign at
Constantinople, the Grand Vizier had come to see him on some business,
and the interview had not been a very peaceable one. The Grand Vizier
was insisting rather peremptorily on his point when he was suddenly
interrupted: "Monsieur le Grand Vizier, je vous defends de me parler
sur ce ton là--à la porte!"--and "à la porte" the Grand Vizier went, to
return next day in a very chastened spirit to make his submission.
Some of the _Surprise's_ cruises are worth mentioning. One of the
earliest, with the Duchess on board, after commencing at Naples
extended itself to Leghorn and Genoa, from the first of which ports
Florence could easily be reached. At Naples in those days the Consul
was Mr. Neville-Rolfe. He was intended by Nature to be a Norfolk Squire
and to live at his place, Heacham Hall, but fate and falling rents
decreed otherwise, so he took up his residence at Naples, where he
was Consul for many years. Naturally a keen lover of art, he had in
addition made a close study of the late Greek, and early Roman periods,
and a more delightful guide to Naples it was impossible to meet. Under
his auspices, the Duchess, and we of the ship who were privileged to
accompany her, saw Naples in a most interesting way. Excavation work
was going on (as indeed it nearly always is) at Pompei, and for the
benefit of such a distinguished visitor a very promising portion of a
Pompeian house was excavated. Talk about sport! Nothing is really more
exciting than digging, and I can remember the breathless way we hung
over the digger when his delicately handled trowel had obviously met
with something worth exhuming. The something was generally a fragment
of one of the inevitable amphoræ that are dug up literally by the
dozen, (as indeed befits vessels that once contained wine,) and are
so common as to be valueless. The result of the investigation that we
witnessed was very disappointing, like many another day's sport. The
only thing of the smallest interest that we discovered was an ivory
make-up box that probably had belonged, some eighteen hundred years
ago, to some Pompeian beauty. Baiæ was also visited. It was easy for
the _Surprise_ to run round and anchor in the bay there, and in fine
weather there was no difficulty in landing passengers on the beach in
the immediate vicinity of that splendid series of temples.
It is difficult to imagine a more agreeable place for a ship to winter
in than was Malta at that time, especially in the _Surprise's_ case
when a long stay there could be broken by cruises to Sicily and the
mainland of Italy. Polo was our principal amusement, and besides a
number of keen naval players, among whom must be included our present
King, then Prince George of Wales, there were the officers of two or
three very sporting regiments, (the Gordon Highlanders in particular,)
who took an active part in the game, the result being that we were
all hard at it two or three times in the week. Fortunately for me,
the _Surprise_ being looked upon as a sort of tender to the flagship,
I generally made one of the _Alexandra_ team in ship against ship,
and fleet against garrison, matches. I am afraid in those days I was
heathen enough to prefer polo to art, and so, much as I liked the
cruises, I have to confess that it was a pleasure to get back to Malta
and my ponies again. The pony racing, too, was capital fun. Hedworth
Lambton, who had then, and still retains, his family's love for the
sport, had some good ponies, and many of the officers of the garrison
went in for racing very seriously; any betting that was necessary,
could be done on the Indian system of the selling lottery.
But in addition to ponies the Navy had a very valuable racing
possession, which amounted almost to a monopoly, namely the best
light-weight jockey in the island, in the person of Midshipman David
Beatty, who, being of a riding family, had been well brought up by his
father--the Major of that name. Major Beatty knew, and no man better,
not only all about the animal, horse, but how he should be ridden, and
his son had profited to the full by the lessons he had received as a
small boy.
And so the winter slipped pleasantly away. The summer of 1887 was made
memorable in England by the celebration of Queen Victoria's Jubilee. It
was, of course, necessary for the Duke of Edinburgh to be present in
England during the period of the festivities, so in June the _Surprise_
conveyed him to Marseilles _en_ _route_ to London. The _Surprise_ was
directed to remain at Marseilles until his expected return in a week's
time. Meanwhile, the Fleet was ordered to the Balearic Islands, where
he could rejoin it and continue the summer cruise which had just begun.
The port of La Joliette where we lay was somewhat malodorous and stuffy
in the month of June, so, as soon as the Admiral had left the ship,
the Captain and I decided to take a few days' leave, he being bent on
going to Paris, whilst I selected Monte Carlo. I duly returned the
night before the _Surprise_ was timed to sail, and, arriving on board
heard, rather to my surprise, that the Captain had not yet appeared.
However, as he had talked of going to Paris I came to the conclusion
that he had arranged to meet the Duke there and would travel back with
him. The _Surprise_ was made ready for sea in the morning to move out
the moment the Admiral was on board, and the officers were duly fallen
in to meet him at the gangway, when it was noticed that the Captain was
not in the boat. As he stepped on board the Admiral's first question
was the very natural one: "Where's the Captain?" Of course no answer
was forthcoming; the only things to do were to inform the Consul in
case there had been any foul play, and to acquaint the Admiralty, both
of which were done.
The _Surprise_ at once proceeded on her way, and I received an
acting-commission as Commander, pending the time when a new one
could be appointed and join. Of course it was very pleasant to be in
command, and I could only hope that the Admiralty would be a long time
considering who they could appoint to supersede me; but meanwhile we
were all greatly distressed about our missing Captain. Personally, I
was devoted to him. Clever and agreeable, with a strong artistic sense
which he had inherited from his father, the Squire of Hunstanton, who
had been himself no mean frescoist in his time, I am deeply indebted
to him for giving me my first introduction to the great painters and
sculptors of Italy, of whose work he had made an intimate study, and
a more interesting and amusing cicerone never existed. It turned out
that instead of going to Paris he had betaken himself to Avignon, to
visit the numerous antiquities there. The weather was very hot, and a
sunstroke had been followed by brain fever. Many days passed before his
family succeeded in tracing him, and, though he recovered, and served
again as Commander of an iron-clad in the Mediterranean, he was never
quite the same man again. It was not many years later that I was one of
the mourners at his graveside when he was buried in the churchyard that
lay close to his beautiful old home in Norfolk.
The Admiral, having rejoined his Fleet and been transhipped to his
flagship, continued the summer cruise; but the _Surprise_ was ordered
off to Cadiz to be placed at the disposal of our Ambassador to Spain,
the late Sir Clare Ford. The King of Spain had decided to open a
maritime exhibition which was to be held at Cadiz, and there being a
tremendous run on all the hotel accommodation there, the Duke, with
his usual kindness, lent his dispatch boat to the Ambassador to be
used as a temporary residence. Accordingly, Sir Clare and his son, Mr.
Johnny Ford, took up their abode on board for a few days, while the
festivities were taking place. The rest of the personnel of the Embassy
had, I believe, billeted themselves on the many hospitable Englishmen
connected with the Xeres wine trade, who lived in the neighbourhood.
Sir Clare and his son were both very agreeable guests, and I continued
to see a good deal of Johnny (as he was always called) until the
time of his death, a short time ago. He served for some years in the
Diplomatic Service, but his health broke down completely, owing, I
have always heard, to some mysterious ailment which he was unfortunate
enough to contract whilst serving at our Legation in Persia. He was
very clever, and a well-known figure in the more artistic side of
London Society. Sir Clare, at Madrid, was very much the right man in
the right place, for he knew the country well; his father had lived
there many years, and was responsible for that delightful book,
_Wanderings in Spain_, which I have always heard was the precursor of
all the Murray Guide Books. Would that all guide books were written
with such a light and amusing pen.
The "Festa" at Cadiz came to an end like all other "Festas," and so did
my brief term of command, for in the first days of August our newly
appointed Captain, Commander the Honourable Maurice Bourke, superseded
me, and I reverted to my old duties of First-Lieutenant. Again
Providence had been kind to the _Surprise_, as our new Captain was one
of the most charming and beloved of men. At one time his career was
almost a synonym for good luck. Everything had gone well with him. Very
good-looking, with all the charm of the best sort of Irishman, one of
the smartest and ablest officers afloat, he seemed inevitably destined
to hold in turn every high command that the Navy in those days could
offer. And then came a run of the most persistent ill-fortune. Not long
after I left the _Surprise_ she was badly in collision with a merchant
steamer. It was not in the very remotest way the fault of the Captain,
but at the same time it was an unpleasant incident. A very few years
afterwards he was Flag-Captain to Sir George Tryon, when that terrible
_Victoria_ and _Camperdown_ collision occurred, which cost so much loss
of life, and, moreover, so much loss of reputation. Again, poor Maurice
Bourke could not be blamed, but none the less he was the Captain of
the ship in fault. He was unlucky for the third time later on, when
Senior Officer in the _Newfoundland_, though the mishap to his ship
was trifling. Unfortunately, his health had suffered greatly by the
long immersion he had undergone, and the shock he had sustained, at the
sinking of the _Victoria_, and he died, alas! at a comparatively early
age. If it is ever true to write of a man, that he died regretted by
all who knew him, I think it might be written of him. To me he was the
kindest of friends and captains, and I was one of the very many who
mourned his loss sincerely.
[Illustration: GROUP ON BOARD H.M.S. "SURPRISE" AT VENICE, 1887
Hon. Mrs. Menson H.R.H. Duke of Edinburgh H.R.H. Prince George of Wales
Marquis of Lorne Com. Hon. M. Bourke H.R.H. Duchess of Edinburgh
Lt. Hon. S. Fortescue H.R.H. Princess Charlotta of Saxe-Meiningen
]
One of our new Captain's earliest jobs was to convey the Duke and
Duchess to Venice, and we lay, I think, for nearly a fortnight off the
Lido. It really was an ideal way of visiting Venice, and though I had
been there before, and have seen it many times since, it certainly
was one of my happiest remembrances of that most entrancing of cities.
To begin with, the surroundings of the Lido make an ideal berth for
a yacht. Being outside the mouth of the Grand Canal, there is plenty
of air, and the open water is clearer and cleaner than that in the
narrower parts of the canal system. It is not only a convenient place
from which to go sight-seeing, but it is near the famous bathing-place.
Moreover, there was a very pleasant party on board. The guests were
Prince George of Wales, Princess Charlotte of Saxe Meiningen, and the
late Duke of Argyll; Lady Monson, then the Honourable Mrs. Monson,
being in attendance on the Duchess.
Another very delightful trip the _Surprise_ made was to the Riviera,
to enable the Duchess to see something of her numerous relations and
friends who were wintering there. Cannes, Nice and Monte Carlo at
that time literally swarmed with Russians. It seemed as if half the
Imperial Family had quartered themselves on that sunny coast. The
Russian aristocracy, like any other conglomeration of individuals,
may not have been a faultless institution; but, individually and
collectively, I have always found the members of it the most agreeable
people in the world. Free from prejudice, very cosmopolitan, speaking
every language with equal facility, and entirely (to use an American
expression) "without frills." No foreigners I have ever met are so easy
to get on with, for they have the knack of putting even the shyest
and most insular of Englishmen at his ease, and it is an additional
comfort to Englishmen, who, as a rule, know no language except their
own, to be dealing with people who speak our language like natives. It
was at Cannes that I first came much into contact with Russians, but
since then I have been attached to several Russian Missions that have
been in London, and even now I have a few good friends left who have
managed to escape from the Bolsheviks. I remember being attached to
the Russian suite of one of the Royalties who came on a Mission here.
There being no room at Buckingham Palace, they were quartered at the
hotel of that name, but of course were expected to take their meals at
the palace, together with the suites of the other missions who were
representing their various countries. I thought it my duty to go to
the hotel every day to see if my friends required any attention, but I
might just as well have saved myself the trouble. The invariable answer
to my questions as to whether they would like to dine or take luncheon
at the palace, or required carriages to take them about, was a polite
one to the effect that they could quite well look after themselves, and
as far as conveyances were concerned they infinitely preferred hansoms
to royal carriages. The principal reason why the men of the upper
classes in Russia are so easy to get on with, is, that they are, with
rare exceptions, gentlemen, and it is as uncommon to meet a vulgar snob
among them as it would be to meet a gentleman among the same number and
class of Germans.
But I must return to Cannes. No sooner had the Duchess arrived at
Cannes than she was surrounded by her relatives, who not only
entertained her, but were more than kind to the officers on board. I
remember a dinner party given for her at the Villa Venden, then the
property of the late Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, who had married the
Grand Duchess Anastasie of Russia, sister to the Grand Duke Michael,
who has lived for so many years in England, and is so well known and
popular here. Among many other distinguished guests was the Duke of
Mecklenburg's sister, the Grand Duchess Vladimir, who is also very well
known in London and Paris. The Duke of Mecklenburg, who was compelled
by ill-health always to winter on the Riviera, was, though a German, a
gentleman, an almost unique case so far as my experience is concerned.
It has been my misfortune to meet a great many Boches in my time, but
I can truthfully say that one of the only gentlemen that I ever met
amongst them was our host of that evening.
After dinner there was dancing, which went on until very late, and
eventually we, the officers of the _Surprise_, got on board our ship
in the dawn, thinking that anyhow after three or four hours' sleep
there would be a lazy morning. But we were reckoning without our
hosts. At eight o'clock in the morning the Duchess of Mecklenburg and
her sister-in-law were alongside to tell us that they had persuaded
our Duchess to take them all round to Monte Carlo in the _Surprise_,
and that meanwhile they wanted some breakfast, so these undefeated
ladies, who could not possibly have been in bed before four o'clock,
were four hours later making themselves extremely agreeable to their
guests of the night before in the tiny wardroom of the _Surprise_. But
apparently, however lightly Russians may take life (they perpetually
use the word "nitschevo," which corresponds exactly to the Spanish
"mañana," and practically means that "nothing matters"), they certainly
do not waste it in sleep! Even now I can recall the luncheon party a
few hours later at the Hôtel de Paris. Besides the Royalties, there
were present a number of agreeable people of every nationality, so what
with the brightness of the surroundings, the gaiety of the party, and
the number of different languages in which the general conversation was
carried on, there resulted a sort of babel, that was very amusing and
almost bewildering to the ordinary young naval officer.
On another occasion when the _Surprise_ was in these waters the little
ship was anchored in that lovely harbour of Ville-franche, midway
between Nice and Monte Carlo, and for the moment we happened to have
no distinguished visitors on board. Our Boatswain, Mr. Cunningham (he
is such an old friend of mine that I am sure he will forgive me for
relating a story about him), had, I thought, been cooped up too long on
the ship, for so keen a worker was he that he would remain for months
on board without ever going ashore. With great difficulty I persuaded
him to come to Monte Carlo with me on the plea that he would see a new
side of life that would enlarge his mind (this was certainly true!),
and on the understanding that I would give him dinner and not desert
him. I duly introduced him to the gambling-rooms and gave him dinner,
and then, as usually happens at Monte Carlo, we managed to miss each
other and I lost sight of him. Of course he could not speak a word
of anything but English, but somehow or another, after a series of
adventures, he managed to find his way back to the ship just in time
to get the anchor up next morning, and all was well. He was a splendid
sailor, and it was a great pleasure to meet him again many years
afterwards, first as Chief Boatswain of the Royal Yacht, and still
later as Lieutenant Cunningham at Osborne College, where he directed
the Seamanship Instruction of the Naval Cadets. But though he rose to
those giddy heights I feel convinced that he never forgot his trip to
Monte Carlo.
Yet another of the _Surprise's_ cruises to the Riviera has to be
mentioned. Shortly after the New Year of 1888 our little ship anchored
off San Remo, the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh being both on board.
They had come to visit (and unhappily their visit turned out to be a
final one) the Crown Prince of Prussia who was spending the winter
there. He left San Remo shortly afterwards to become German Emperor
for a reign of three months. The Crown Prince was too ill to return
the visit in person, but I can remember the Crown Princess arriving
on board and the manifest pleasure that it gave her to find herself
once more on board a British man-of-war. Well might the odious people
with whom she had been fated to live, call her, in derision, the
"Engländerin"; we English, who have grown to know the Germans better,
can now appreciate the fact that what was intended as an ill-natured
sneer was, virtually, a compliment. By the middle of June her husband,
the man who, had he lived, might possibly have changed the fate of
Europe, was unfortunately dead; to be succeeded on the throne by his
son, that half-megalomaniac, half-mountebank, who, as I write, has
taken refuge in a foreign country from those who were once his subjects.
Before temporarily quitting the topic of the German Royal Family, I
must mention that some time afterwards, when suffering acutely from
one of the numerous German Invasions of Cowes which had become annual
visitations during Regatta week, I prophetically offered to take £100
to £1 that I should live to see the German Empire broken up, and it is
a lasting regret to me to feel that, now the cataclysm has come, I have
altogether forgotten the layer of the bet, who, more than likely, is
now not even alive!
Another Mediterranean summer was passed pleasantly enough in cruising,
the greater part of the time in company with the Fleet, and then, in
early September, I heard, to my great joy, that I had been appointed
to the Royal Yacht _Victoria and Albert_. This meant not only certain
promotion at the end of two years, but also a very pleasant time in
England.