A SAILOR’S LIFE
[Illustration: MacMillan and Co. Printer’s Mark.]
[Illustration: _“There was life in the ‘small thing.’”_]
A SAILOR’S LIFE
UNDER
FOUR SOVEREIGNS
BY
ADMIRAL OF THE FLEET
THE HON. SIR HENRY KEPPEL
G.C.B., D.C.L.
VOL. I.
London
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1899
_All rights reserved_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I PAGE
1809-1822 1
CHAPTER II
The _Tweed_, 1824 26
CHAPTER III
The _Tweed_ 46
CHAPTER IV
The _Tweed_ 55
CHAPTER V
The _Tweed_ 66
CHAPTER VI
England 92
CHAPTER VII
The _Galatea_ 101
CHAPTER VIII
The _Magicienne_ 119
CHAPTER IX
The _Magicienne_ 127
CHAPTER X
The _Magicienne_ 147
CHAPTER XI
The _Magicienne_ 153
CHAPTER XII
England 160
CHAPTER XIII
The _Childers_ Brig 165
CHAPTER XIV
The _Childers_ Brig 174
CHAPTER XV
The Carlist Question 184
CHAPTER XVI
The Carlist War 192
CHAPTER XVII
The _Childers_ Brig 198
CHAPTER XVIII
The _Childers_--West Coast of Africa 202
CHAPTER XIX
Cape Coast Castle 217
CHAPTER XX
The _Childers_ Brig 226
CHAPTER XXI
A Rendezvous of Cruisers 231
CHAPTER XXII
England 246
CHAPTER XXIII
Shore Time 251
CHAPTER XXIV
_Dido_ Corvette 255
CHAPTER XXV
_Dido_--China 269
CHAPTER XXVI
_Dido_--China 277
CHAPTER XXVII
_Dido_--Straits of Malacca 282
CHAPTER XXVIII
_Dido_--Borneo 292
CHAPTER XXIX
_Dido_--Borneo 311
CHAPTER XXX
_Dido_--China 322
CHAPTER XXXI
_Dido_--Calcutta 331
INDEX
ILLUSTRATIONS
SUBJECT ARTIST PAGE
“There was life in the ‘small _J. W. Houghton_ Frontispiece
thing’”
A Successful Operation ” ” 3
Pio Mingo _E. Caldwell_ 6
Sir Francis Burdett _From an engraving_ 8
Sir Francis Burdett’s Carriage _J. W. Houghton_ 9
A Compliment to Sir Francis ” ” 10
Nelson’s Chair ” ” 15
Royal Naval College ” ” 18
The Attack ” ” 21
The Defence ” ” 23
During the Examination ” ” 24
Meeting the Captain ” ” 27
Ship Mates ” ” 31
Consolation ” ” 35
Meet Lord Cochrane ” ” 37
Arrested ” ” 50
Vera Cruz _Anon._ 62
Holkham _W. H. Margetson_ 67
View from Réduit _Lady Colville_ 78
A Colossal Tortoise _J. W. Houghton_ 80
Sir Lowry Cole _Nina Daly_ 82
The Device of Jonas Coaker _Fred. T. Jane_ 83
“Keppel’s Folly” _E. Caldwell_ 89
Napoleon’s Grave _Anon._ 90
At St. Margaret’s _J. W. Houghton_ 95
Nearly Frozen ” ” 99
The Poole Packet _Fred. T. Jane_ 106
The Dignity Ball _J. W. Houghton_ 111
Crossing Tampico Bar _Fred. T. Jane_ 117
An Elephant in Chase _E. Caldwell_ 131
A Royal Salute _Fred. T. Jane_ 138
Elephants with Young at Foot, _E. Caldwell_ 142
Moowar Valley
Blue-jackets in Chase ” 144
Returning from the Funeral ” 151
_Magicienne_ at Calcutta _Fred. T. Jane_ 154
West African Natives _Anon._ 206
A Factory _Anon._ 213
A Slaver _Anon._ 227
Hong Kong _Anon._ 265
_Dido_ at Chusan R. B. Watson 267
Map of Malacca Straits and Singapore 286
Rajah Brooke _Nina Daly_ 289
Map--Eastern Archipelago 292
Map of Coast--Borneo 293
_Dido_ at Sarawak _Anon._ 303
A River Scene _From photo by Dr. Johnstone_ 320
A Sailor’s Life under Four Sovereigns
CHAPTER I
1809-1822
[Sidenote: 1809. June 14.]
The baptismal certificate announces my birth at Earl’s Court,
Kensington, on June 14, 1809.
It was only in 1820 I learnt from my sister, Mary, that three weeks
after birth I was deposited in my father’s footpan to be interred in
a garden at the back of the house, not being entitled to a berth in
consecrated ground.
That mattered little, as before the final screwing down the old nurse
discovered there was life in the “small thing.”
I was christened at Kensington. Henry, Lord Holland, became responsible
for my sins, a similar kind act having been conferred by Charles James
Fox upon my elder brother; after which I was removed to join the others
at Quidenham.
[Sidenote: 1815.]
Later on I recollect the nurse trying to frighten us by saying “Boney
was coming,” and how glad we children were when we heard of the defeat
of that hero at Waterloo; accomplished, as I then believed, by my
brother George, an Ensign in the 14th Foot!
[Sidenote: 1817.]
My dear mother died at Holkham in 1817.
[Sidenote: 1818.]
[Illustration]
At the beginning of 1818 my younger brother Tom and I were sent to
a school at Needham Market, kept by the Rev. James Wood, a short,
muscular man, wearing knee-breeches and powdered hair. A nice wife
and children; the latter played with us smaller boys. His brother, a
merchant at Lisbon, used to send cases of oranges, which were stowed
in the upper shelf of a large cupboard. When in the humour, the master
chucked them to us from a ladder singly, giving lessons in catching.
From Portugal we had two schoolfellows, Francisco Nunes Sweezer Vizeu
and Alvaro Lopes Pereira. They were kind to me, the smallest boy, and I
have never forgotten them.
While there, a young man named Long, who was training for Holy Orders,
came occasionally to read with Mr. Wood. He gave me a brass gun mounted
on wheels, and a promise of sixpence if I would fire it off during
school-time.
At my end of the table I arranged, with books, a screened battery,
with the rear open; and then, under pretence of drying my slate at the
fire, heated a wire, which was applied according to instructions. The
explosion was loud; books flew in all directions; the gun bounded over
my head and lost itself behind a row of books, where it remained until
next half.
[Illustration: _A Successful Operation._]
The master tore open his waistcoat to ascertain where he was shot, and
then seized his cane; for some minutes I dodged under the table and
over the stools, but caught it at last. I was unable to sit, and so
went to bed.
My father had in his possession a letter from the Rev. James Wood,
stating that I had fired a gun at him, and that “Mr. Thomas” had thrown
a slate at his head divested of its frame!
The following half, as the warm weather approached, I succeeded in
finding where the master kept his hair-powder, and with it mixed some
finely pounded sugar. On coming into school, the flies soon found
him, and as he got warm his head became black instead of white. This
little game exceeded my expectations, as, irritated beyond endurance,
he dismissed us from school. Among our playfellows was a Norfolk
neighbour, Edward Gurdon, who sang well and tried to teach me!
[Sidenote: 1819.]
Our sister Sophia, who married Sir James Macdonald, lived not far
from Needham. They drove over to take us to the launch of a ship at
Aldborough. On the return journey, I in the gig, driven by the coachman
following the phaeton, ran foul of a fish-cart, and broke the shaft. I
was pitched on to the back of the horse, slipped down the trace, and
found my way to the phaeton. The coachman had been taking his tea too
strong.
At the back of the schoolhouse was a gable-end, up which a pear-tree
had long before been trained. The trunk stood some six feet from the
wall; a pathway which led to the stables ran parallel, on the outer
side of which were pointed rails. On top of these, thin planks placed
edgeways, up which jasmine was trained.
One afternoon a ball with which we had been playing lodged in the
upper part of the gable-end. I succeeded in reaching the ball, when
the branch gave way, and I descended with it in one hand and the ball
in the other; the only things that partially checked my fall were
the planks. I came down impaled on the spiked rails! A messenger was
despatched to Quidenham; but there were plenty of us: nobody came.
We looked forward to our Christmas holidays. My father kept a pack of
beagles, much to our delight as well as that of our neighbours, the
Surtees and Partridges, both large families and sporting, who, with
many others, made our meets very cheery.
Hares there were in plenty. We boys had clever ponies. Mine, Pio Mingo,
was peculiar-looking--white, with black spots, bushy mane and tail;
showed a good deal of the white of her eye. The like of her might have
been found at Astley’s. Both ponies were undeniably clever at finding
their way across ditches and through fences, and generally much nearer
the hounds than pleased old Capes, the huntsman. Most of the hounds,
while running, preferred the furrows to the open plough, as did Mingo,
much to the grief of poor little Dancer, Rattler, and others.
But Mingo’s great dislike was a hat, which my elder brothers knew only
too well. One Friday morning, after a continued frost, horses and
hounds were brought out for an airing, and paraded in front of the
house. Fancying that I knew the whereabouts of my brothers, I mounted
Mingo in the stable, and was sneaking along so as to get near the
protection of led horses.
At that moment, through a villa garden gate, appeared my Waterloo
brother. He took off his hat as if to give Mingo a feed of corn. I
gripped both mane and crupper, but the rattle of the whip inside the
hat was too much. Instead of a somersault in the air, my left foot
caught in the stirrup.
[Illustration: _Pio Mingo._]
Away dashed Mingo, in among the horses, with me in tow. Inside the
house old Henley pulled down the window-blinds, that my sisters might
not see the expected end. The confusion was great; led horses got
loose. I was eventually picked up senseless on a heap of straw and
pheasant food under a tree. There was the deep cut of a horse’s tooth
across the seat of the saddle--a saddle which had been given my brother
George by the Princess Charlotte, and on which we boys had learned to
ride.
On the Monday following I was again in the saddle, with a stiffish leg
and a few bruises, but none the worse.
Most Norfolk butlers took pride in their breed of game-fowl, and old
Henley considered his second to none. The best cocks went periodically
to Newmarket, their performances watched with interest only inferior
to that of the race-horses. Carrier-pigeons, too, he bred. On one
occasion the birds, hatched from eggs brought from Newmarket, found
their way back as soon as able to fly--not more curious than a dog
carried in a hamper from Sussex to Scotland finding its way back to
Goodwood in a couple of days!
Kenninghall Fair was an event for us children. Admiral Lukin, from
Felbrig Hall, visited Quidenham at that time. He played the flute.
The march across the park with drums and fifes was imposing. Not far
from Felbrig we had another home at Lexham Hall, belonging to the
Walpole-Keppels. The whole county appeared to work together except at
election time, when Wodehouse opposed Coke.
[Sidenote: 1820.]
About this time my brother Tom and I were summoned to our father’s
dressing-room, when he informed us that it was time we selected a
profession. We both decided for the Navy. Father thought we should have
separate professions. As we disagreed, I hit Tom in the eye, which he,
being biggest, returned with interest. When we had had enough, father
decided we should both be sailors.
Similar politics, somewhat Radical, had years ago brought the families
of Coke and Keppel together, and we looked forward with pleasure to
our periodical visits to Holkham. Mr. Coke had four daughters. The
eldest died before my time; three had married peers--Andover, Rosebery,
and Anson. Lady Andover, who was early a widow, married secondly,
the good-looking and distinguished Captain Digby, who commanded the
_Africa_ at Trafalgar. Lady Anson had two handsome sons; one we called
Tom, who afterwards became Lord Lichfield. He was descended from Lord
Anson who commanded the _Centurion_ and sailed round the world. On
board was Augustus Keppel, a midshipman, afterwards Lord Keppel.
[Sidenote: George IV.]
[Illustration: _Sir Francis Burdett._]
There was a younger son, William, in the Navy, whom I met later. Eliza
Anson became Lady Waterpark, and her sister Frederica married the Earl
of Wemyss and March. Mr. Coke had a younger daughter, Elizabeth; she
likewise was charming, and managed the domestic part of the house. In
1822 she married Mr. Spencer Stanhope.
[Sidenote: 1821. July 13.]
Among Mr. Coke’s intimate friends was Sir Francis Burdett; in fact,
Holkham was the centre of the leading Whigs of the day. Sir Francis had
been liberated from prison, where he had been confined for exciting a
mob, as well as for writing a pamphlet on the trial of Queen Caroline,
on the strength of which a party assembled to meet him at Holkham.
After a sojourn there it was arranged that the party should adjourn to
Quidenham. There was great excitement throughout the country about the
trial.
Being short I was told off to go with Sir Francis, so as not to
obstruct the view of the hero. The travelling carriages of those days
were light; no box or driving-seat, splashboard only, the body hung on
C-springs; four horses and postboys.
[Illustration: _Sir Francis Burdett’s Carriage._]
At Fakenham the populace were prepared; horses were taken off, and Sir
Francis was, much to my delight, drawn through the river. The same fun
was repeated at Dereham, where we met the Duke of Sussex, changing four
posters at the King’s Arms, His Royal Highness likewise on his way to
Quidenham. We also stopped for refreshments. Outside the inn was great
cheering, and cries for “the Queen and her rights.”
After a short stay at Quidenham the party broke up, and I saw Sir
Francis start on a ride to London, calling at Euston, a journey of
nearly a hundred miles.
[Illustration: _A Compliment to Sir Francis._]
I was much with H.R.H. the Duke of Sussex, going from one country-house
to another in his travelling coach, which held an enormous amount of
luggage. Both footmen were armed; it was no uncommon thing for luggage
to be cut from the back of a travelling carriage in the vicinity of
London. Royalty paying no ’pikes, with four post-horses, and boys in
condition, we got rapidly along.
Newstead Abbey was the object of our journey. It belonged to His Royal
Highness’s equerry, Colonel Wildman, a dapper little Hussar, who had
served through the Peninsular War, and had recently bought the place of
Lord Byron. The workmen were still engaged in restoring the beautiful
Gothic building, on which the Colonel was expending £200,000. The work
was being done with taste and care; none of the traits of its former
owner had been obliterated. Side by side with the arms of Lord Byron
were carved the heraldic device of the Wildman family. Indeed, it was a
source of consolation to Lord Byron that the one spot in England dear
to him had fallen into the hands of his old friend and schoolfellow.
The famous drinking-cup, which Byron made out of a skull found in the
Abbey cloister, was mounted on a gold stand, with the famous lines
engraved; and, in accordance with the tradition of the house, when a
visitor arrived, a bottle of wine was poured into the skull, which the
guest was expected to empty.
While we were there, Mr. (afterwards Lord) Brougham arrived from an
election tour. I saw him empty his share of the claret at one draught,
and he was unusually pleasant afterwards. His younger brother, father
of the present Lord, was staying in the house at the time.
On returning to Holkham, I found the school-room was nearly full.
Not that we boys were always admitted. There were Miss Digby--so
beautiful!--and two Ansons--such dear and pretty children! Admiral
Digby had two sons; Edward was of the same age as myself, and we
established a friendship which lasted his life. He had a younger
brother, Kenelm, likewise a good fellow, thinking of the Church.
It is not my intention to attempt the biographies of many of the fine
fellows whose path I crossed, but since I commenced these souvenirs I
have had the opportunity of inspecting letters that might never have
seen daylight had I not inquired of Lord Digby, son of my lamented
friend, the number of guns his grandfather’s ship carried at Trafalgar.
The search produced the original letter, written by then Captain Digby
to his uncle, Admiral Hon. R. Digby, of Minterne, Dorset:
[COPY]
“‘AFRICA,’ AT SEA, OFF THE STRAITS,
_November 1, 1805_.
MY DEAR UNCLE,
I write merely to say I am well, after having been closely
engaged for six hours on the 21st of October. For details,
being busy to the greatest degree, I have lost all my masts
in consequence of the action, and my ship is otherwise cut to
pieces, but sound in bottom. My killed and wounded 63, and many
of the latter I shall lose if I do not get into port. Out of so
many great prizes, it has pleased God that the elements should
destroy most, perhaps to lessen the vanity of man after so
great a victory.
I will give you a rough sketch of the lines going into action;
more minute it shall be hereafter.
I beg my love to Mrs. Digby, and remain,
Your affectionate nephew,
(Signed) H. DIGBY.
[Illustration: FRENCH LINE ON LARBOARD TACK.]
(To which was added the following postscript):
I really have no time to say more, surrounded as I am by the
wounded men in my cabin, and in all sorts of employ, completing
jury masts, etc., etc., and I will thank you to say so to Dr.
Shiff and my brothers and sisters.
The _Africa_ was, with many others, dispersed by variable
winds, and perceiving the French signals during the night, I
took a station at discretion, and was the means of being early
in action the next day, engaging the van as I ran along to join
the English Lines.
After passing through the line, in which position I brought
down the foremast of the _Santissima Trinidada_, mounting 140
guns; after which I engaged, within pistol-shot, _L’Intrépide_,
74, which afterwards struck and was burnt, _Orion_ and
_Conqueror_ coming up.
A little boy that stayed with me is safe. Twice on the poop
was I left alone, all being killed or wounded. I am very deaf,
with a sad pressure over my breast.”
I have not space to describe half the services of the gallant Digby.
In 1796 he was posted into the _Aurora_ frigate, and in less than two
years had captured six French privateers, one lettre de marque, and
one corvette, _L’Égalité_, making a total of 124 guns and 744 men,
besides forty-eight merchant ships taken or sunk. In command of the
_Leviathan_, with Commodore Duckworth, he assisted in the capture of
the island of Minorca. In command of the _Alcmene_, he captured two
French men-of-war, _Le Dépit_, 3 guns, and _La Courageuse_, 30 guns
and 270 men; also on October 17, 1799, two Spanish frigates, _Thetis_
and _Brigide_, each of 32 guns and 300 men. They contained 3,000,000
dollars, and it took fifty military waggons to convey the specie from
Plymouth Dock to the citadel. His prize-money, as stated by himself,
amounted to £57,300 before he was thirty years of age, with £6300 more
before he was thirty-six.
I read that in the beginning of 1818 the following Whigs dined together
in compliment to Mr. Coke, at Wyndham, near Quidenham: The Rev. R.
Coleman, in the chair; Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich, Lord Albemarle, Sir
Francis Burdett, Mr. R. Hammond, Lord Cochrane, Sir Thomas Beevor, Mr.
Gurney, Sir Jacob Astley, Mr. Lerwlie, and Admiral Lukin, at that date
rather Liberal.
A tutor from Wells was found to coach me for the Royal Naval College.
One morning, after breakfast, Mr. Coke told me to join him in his
study, directing me to sit on a certain chair, he at his desk. After
a while he called me, and said: “Now I will tell you why I put you in
that chair. Young Nelson sat there on an occasion when he came to make
his declaration for half-pay as Commander.” Nelson’s home was with
his father, the clergyman at Burnham Thorpe, about three miles from
Holkham. Mr. Coke likewise introduced young Hoste (a neighbour) to
Nelson.[1] At Holkham now there is a bedroom called “Nelson’s.”
[1] Afterwards Admiral Sir William Hoste.
[Illustration: _Nelson’s Chair._]
[Sidenote: 1822.]
Early in 1822 I was sent to my relative, William Garnier, Prebendary
of Winchester Cathedral, whose home was in the Close; but it was his
brother, the Dean, better known to us as “Uncle Tom,” to whom I was
consigned. He had a son, George, who was already at the Royal Naval
College.
[Sidenote: Feb. 8.]
It was on February 8 that I started with Uncle Tom in the Prebendary’s
family coach, drawn by four fat greys, coachman on box, boy on near
leader, pace about five miles per hour, for Gosport. On arrival I saw,
for the first time, among other vessels, three full-rigged ships of the
line, whose trucks reached at least 220 feet above the water-line. As
yet I had seen nothing larger than a collier brig alongside Wells Pier.
Uncle Tom took me in a wherry across the harbour to the dockyard,
and so to the Royal Naval College, where I soon found myself in the
presence of the Governor, Captain Loring, a warrior in uniform; as
imposing to me as the leviathans I had just seen. Professor Inman was
there--a tall man in black, with an austere countenance; but there was
that in him that I liked. How I got through the examination I forget,
but that day found me an officer in the service of King George IV.
Captain John Wentworth Loring was the son of Joshua Loring, who held
a staff appointment at Boston. At the end of the war he settled in
Berkshire. His son, born in 1785, entered the navy as midshipman on
board the _Salisbury_ in 1819. While Loring was serving in the West
Indies in command of the _Lark_ sloop, she capsized in a hurricane.
They cleverly saved themselves by cutting away masts and rigging,
and, being well battened down, the vessel righted. She was towed into
port at San Domingo to refit. Loring gained so much credit for the
expeditious manner in which he performed this duty that the Admiral,
Lord Hugh Seymour, appointed him Acting Captain of the _Syren_, 32-gun
frigate, which had lately come out from Bantry Bay in a thoroughly
demoralised and mutinous state!
While cruising off Cape François the crew refused to work, and a plan
got wind of their intention to secure their new Captain and officers,
and join the pirates, who were then to be found in most parts of the
West Indies. Loring, with his officers, took possession of the after
part of the ship; the wind being in the right direction, they steered
for port. They were three days without change of raiment. On joining
the Commander-in-Chief, Sir John Duckworth, who had succeeded Lord Hugh
Seymour, the mutineers were tried by court-martial, and six of them
hanged at the foreyard arm. Through the intercession of Loring, one of
them escaped capital punishment.
[Illustration: _Royal Naval College._]
On November 4, 1819, Captain Loring was appointed Governor of the
Royal Naval College. He was for forty-four years on the active list,
and of that time only four unemployed. In July he was made K.C.B.,
having previously been knighted by King William IV. His uniform was:
blue coat, open in front, gold epaulettes, white kerseymere waistcoat,
pantaloons to match, with Hessian boots, straight, thin sword, and
cocked hat.
Rouse was the Senior Lieutenant. This gallant old officer lost his leg
in the attack upon Prota in February, 1807, when serving under Sir John
Thomas Duckworth, and in consequence of his wound was promoted to the
rank of Lieutenant. When the wooden leg broke, he was allowed to draw
another from the dockyard joiner’s shop.
Malone, the Second Lieutenant, was a good-natured Irishman, and kind
to me because his wife was a Norfolk woman. There were two artillery
drill-sergeants and three first-rate warrant officers, a gunner,
boatswain, and carpenter, who took us round the yard in batches out of
school hours, and of whom some of us learned more than we did inside.
They illustrated in the dockyard what we had found difficult, with no
object to refer to.
There were two fine twelve-oared cutters, which the lieutenants
managed. We learned to pull as well as to steer under sail. We had, in
addition to school, French, drawing, and dancing masters, also fencing.
The French master was, I believe, an _émigré_, a Marquis de la Fort;
but of all, I think we liked Schetkey, the drawing-master, best.
Two old women used to bring baskets of grub--tarts, fruit, etc. Towards
the end of the half they gave “tick” to those whom they knew would
return.
Under the care of my good-natured kinsman, George Garnier, I got on
very well. He, however, left the end of the half, and joined the
_Delight_ brig, in which he afterwards sailed from the Cape of Good
Hope, and was never again heard of.
[Sidenote: 1823.]
Our uniform was a blue tail-coat, stand-up collar, plain raised gilt
buttons, round hat, gold-lace loop with cockade, and shoes. We cadets
had each a cabin about seven feet square, with a window, except the
corner ones, which at the monthly changes were occupied by those who
had been oftenest on the black-list, and did not require daylight.
There was an occasional launch from the dockyard; one of them was
the _Tweed_, of 28 guns, a new form not much thought of, and called
donkey-frigates. Subsequently she was christened by Miss Loring, and to
this vessel I was appointed on leaving the College.
We had a nice set of fellows. Some of them sons of distinguished
officers, among them Suckling, Pasco, Hallowell, Blackwood. On muster
or parade we were in subdivisions or companies; the best-behaved had
charge each of one of these, and wore a midshipman’s white patch
instead of a bit of braid on the collar.
The boy I looked up to was William Edmonston; he was clever, and passed
out with a first mathematical prize medal (before completing his two
years) as a midshipman in the _Sybille_, 42, Captain S. Pechell. He
was wounded in the face in a boat action against pirates near Candia.
Edmonston had the best sort of courage--brave without being rash. He
got into Parliament, but I, having been kept at sea, got ahead of him.
George King entered the College the same day as myself, and we kept
working together, although in different ships, for many years.
We cadets were not allowed outside the dockyard; the stage-coaches that
took us away were obliged to come inside the gates. We were but boys,
and provided ourselves with such missiles for mischief as we could
find in the yard--iron ringbolts, for example, which were dangerous if
thrown with precision.
Before the half was up, we drew lots for the much-coveted box-seat;
that on His Majesty’s mail on one occasion fell to me. There were
several night-coaches, but the “Nelson,” the only “six inside heavy,”
was the favourite. It carried thirteen passengers, and stopped to
refresh at Liphook. The food was bespoke a week before: in winter
beefsteaks, onions, and plum-pudding, but in summer a goose, ducks and
green peas, with onions to any extent. It often happened that the
coach left a passenger or two asleep on the rug.
[Illustration: _The Attack._]
Outside the gates there was no difficulty in obtaining pea-shooters and
other small means of annoyance. On the night when I had the box-seat,
the Royal Mail picked up and dropped boys as we came, so that it was
midnight before we reached Godalming. The postmaster having turned
in, the Mail pulled up as usual under his bedroom windows. The moment
they were opened, the postmaster and his wife were assailed with
pea-shooters and other missiles. The guard was saying “All right,” when
the postmistress, calling “There is something else,” emptied the slops
on the boys as the Mail drove off; I, having the box-seat, escaped the
odoriferous bath.
[Illustration: _The Defence._]
That gallant officer, Sir William Hoste, who commanded the _Albion_,
one of the harbour guard-ships, used to visit us during play-hours and
tip the Norfolk boys with a half-guinea each, although himself a poor
man. We were proud at being noticed by the gallant Hoste, who commanded
at the finest frigate action off Lissa, with such men as James Gordon
Phipps Hornby, Whitby, and others with whom I subsequently became
intimately acquainted. There was also a young fellow, Lieutenant the
Hon. William Anson, belonging to the _Tribune_, 42-gun frigate, who
used to come and see me and chat about Holkham. Adjoining the Naval
College was the house of the President-Commissioner, Captain Hon. Sir
George Grey, brother of the Premier.
His nephew George and I became great friends: he joined the service,
but not through the College.
While at the College we had repeated visits from those who had
previously left, and who put us up to the orgies that went on in the
hulks alongside the ships to which they belonged. I did not fail to
remember this when my turn came.
My brother Tom joined on December 5, so that when we returned in
January, 1824, from the Christmas holidays, we had only been two months
together.
Among the friends I made at College were Hallowell, Suckling, Francis
Blackwood, all more or less connected with Nelson.
[Sidenote: 1824.]
I went up with others for examination, but failed to get full numbers
on account of having in my possession a penny handkerchief, given me
by one of my late playfellows, on which was printed an outline of a
map of the coast of England. Now, the geographical master, who was
short-sighted, always read with his nose close to the paper. Through a
sheet of foolscap he had pierced a hole with a pin, and before I could
blow my nose he was down on me like a hawk. The consequence was that
on February 7, 1824, I was appointed to His Majesty’s ship _Tweed_,
Captain F. Hunn, half-brother to Mr. Canning, with one year ten months
two weeks and two days’ time, instead of two complete years of service.
[Illustration: _During the Examination._]
Uncle Tom Garnier kindly undertook to give directions for my outfit,
and for a while my valuable services were dispensed with.