THE _TWEED_, 1824
[Sidenote: 1824. Feb.]
Having paid many parting visits, I returned to Portsmouth, and,
dismounting from the “Regulator” coach, went straight to the
outfitters’ and was soon in uniform. What I thought most of was a
small dirk suspended from my waist. Having viewed myself in various
positions, I sallied forth.
From mids who revisited the College I learnt the sort of fun that went
on in the refitting hulks. I was not so green as I looked. Instead of
reporting myself on board the _Topaze_, I ascertained that Captain Hunn
lived with wife and family at No. 15 Jubilee Terrace, Southsea. The
time being that when he would be going to dinner, although dusk, I took
up a position on the south side of the sallyport bridge.
Presently I saw a blue boat-cloak, surmounted by a gold-laced cocked
hat, and a sword protruding. I stepped on one side and saluted.
“Who are you, youngster? and what’s your name?”
I soon squeaked out that I belonged to His Majesty’s ship _Tweed_, just
returned from leave, and was going to report myself. Name Keppel.
“Come along with me.”
I was shortly ushered out of the cold into the presence of Mrs. Hunn
and two charming young ladies in a warm drawing-room, and dinner ready.
Never was such good fortune! Never was I so hungry!
[Illustration: _Meeting the Captain._]
The coxswain was sent for my clothes, a bed made up on the sofa. The
next day I was installed “gig’s midshipman.” Rather a good beginning,
which I fully appreciated.
I did not trouble myself about the fitting out. Just before starting
we were supplied with a proportion of smugglers, whose penalty for
defrauding His Majesty was to serve before the mast on board a
man-of-war. They were equal to our best seamen.
We sailed from Portsmouth on April 12, Mrs. Hunn and my playfellows
with us. We saluted the flag of our Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Sir
James Hawkins Whitshed, and anchored at Spithead, which we left on
18th, anchoring successively at Cowes, Yarmouth Roads, and Plymouth
Sound, saluting the flag of the Hon. A. J. Cochrane.
Among the frequent anchorings and departures I learnt some of the
various duties expected of officers of my particular rank. One of these
was to hold a dip in the tier while the great hempen cable attached to
the anchor was being hove in, and stowed by quartermasters below the
reach of daylight. It was a neat piece of seamanship, on which the best
and the least experienced of petty officers were employed. The tier
was a large oblong space. The end of the working cable was secured in
the bottom of the ship, frequently round the heel of the mainmast. To
heave in the cable with anchor attached required a “messenger” without
an end. This was a small cable of proper proportions passed round the
capstan and forebits, so that one side ran parallel to the cable, to
which it was secured by nippers that held it until near the hatchway
above the cable tier.
As the nippers were taken off, boys were stationed to carry them
forward to be reapplied; the capstan bars were manned by marines and
seamen not stationed aloft. We youngsters had to hold the dips to
enable the petty officers to see that each bend was closely packed,
the centre, where they worked, being clear. The coil in the tier not
exceeding three or four feet, according to size and space, we had to
jump smartly with our dips on the words, “Side out for a bend.” The
expression was used long after chain cables were introduced. “Purser’s
dip” was a strip of cotton soaked in tallow until it grew into a young
candle.
Bumboats were the delight of us youngsters. If one wanted to enjoy a
pot of clotted cream, the best way was to carry it aloft, taking a foot
of pigtail to propitiate the captain of the top.
[Sidenote: May 2.]
We left Plymouth on May 2, and following day came to in Carrick Roads
at Falmouth. Mails to most parts of the world were carried from here
in men-of-war, chiefly brigs, commanded by senior lieutenants, and a
few by distinguished old warrant officers.
There were thirty-six of these vessels, some with high-sounding names,
such as _Prince Regent_, _Duke of Marlborough_ as well as of _York_,
two _Dukes of Kent_, _Ladies Wellington_, _Queensberry_, _Mary Pelham_,
etc. They were all in first-rate order.
In the important town of Falmouth the Commanders had a society
peculiarly their own, ladies taking precedence according to the
seniority of their husbands on the Navy List--luckily, not that of the
names of the ships their husbands commanded. _Of course, there was no
quarrelling among the grass-widows._ We were here four days.
[Sidenote: May 10.]
Arrived in the magnificent Cork Harbour, we saluted the flag
of Rear-Admiral of the White, the Right Hon. Lord Colville,
Commander-in-Chief of His Majesty’s ships in Ireland. There was a
great deal of smuggling all round the coast, and some of our smartest
cruisers employed. Among the most fortunate was the _Gannet_, 18; she
went by the name of the _“Golden” Gannet_.
The Admiral was tall and imposing-looking; as gig’s midshipman I had
many opportunities of seeing him. He paid almost daily state visits
from his residence in the Cove of Cork to the dockyard on Haulbowline
Island, dressed in full uniform. He wore his cocked hat athwartships,
gold epaulettes, white pantaloons and Hessian boots. On his stepping
into the state barge, the coxswain, standing up behind him, piped the
time for each solemn stroke of the oars; the yards of the flagship were
manned, while the marines, ranged across the poop, presented arms. The
distance was short, but I thought the ceremony grand.
_Semiramis_ was an old 42-gun frigate. Being light, and floating high
out of the water, she was painted with two tiers of ports, and had the
appearance of a ship of the line suitable to the flag she had to carry.
No merchant ship trading between Cork or any port would attempt to pass
without lowering her upper sails.
Before leaving, the _Pylades_, 18, Commander Fead, arrived with
a smuggling lugger, a beautiful vessel with a crew of over fifty
fine-looking men. The Commander-in-Chief while on the station made
nearly £9000 prize-money, his share being one-eighth, after expenses
paid. Mr. Dunsterville had charge of Haulbowline, with a charming wife
and family. A nice boy joined us as mid, deliciously Irish. With them I
made excursions to Cork, and I enjoyed a lunch at the same time at the
mess of the 13th Hussars.
We sailed from Cork on the 25th, and got into the wide and open sea,
when I saw, for the first time, the horizon of blue water all round.
I now came in contact with those who were my messmates, among them a
number of masters’ mates, whom the Admiralty did not promote, but gave
them the option of serving on.[2] The duties of these elderly gentlemen
were mostly nominal; they were styled mates of the hold or of stores,
etc. They seldom appeared on deck except on Sundays, when they took
their week’s exercise. Their uniform was a blue coat, in shape like our
now plain evening-dress, anchor buttons and a small white cord edging,
white pantaloons, Hessian boots, cocked hat, and sword.
[2] Navy List of date records 3786 lieutenants in service.
[Illustration: _Ship Mates._]
It was considered a compliment to be spoken to by them. I was favoured
by being asked if I had not come to sea to avenge the death of Nelson.
Others were anxious to know if my mother cried when I left home. Down
in the midshipmen’s berth they reigned supreme; spoke very little
before grog-time; then a fork was stuck in the beam, a signal for us
youngsters to scuttle out as fast as we could.
A servant was told off to look after me. I forgot his name, and asked
one of my aged shipmates; word was passed along the lower deck for
“Cheeks,” the marine.
There was no place for midshipmen’s stores, except the lockers on which
we sat. Each of us was supposed to bring two table-cloths; one lasted
a week, when the steward--his name Edward Low, but called “Tommie
Plenty”--took possession of it to wipe knives, forks, cups, and spoons.
It smelt before the next was due. We had no candlesticks. Dips obtained
from the purser were stuck in bottles supported by forks fixed where
the planks of the table had shrunk. One morning, when “Tommie” was
holystoning under the table, the point of a fork lifted his scalp.
While he was on the sick-list we youngsters had to do cooking, etc.
I often confirmed Marryat’s story of the mid running along the
main-deck with a tureen of pea-soup, calling “Scaldings!” to clear the
way.
One of our old mates had served in a fast-cruising frigate, when, owing
to the number of prizes taken, officers being sent away in charge, the
duties fell heavily on those remaining. Our messmate had to keep watch
and watch. At last his turn came. On taking charge of the prize, the
frigate having made sail, he sent for the petty officer, a gunner in
charge of the prize crew, and told him to steer north-east and call
him in three weeks.
[Sidenote: June 5.]
On June 5 we arrived at Madeira, at which enjoyable place we remained
eight days. Here our Captain, his wife, children, and gig’s midshipman
were entertained by the kindest of merchants, Mr. and Mrs. Bean, as
well as by Mr. Gordon, a partner. Markets were full of fruits of all
sorts--oranges, mountain strawberries, grapes, and bananas; ponies,
donkeys, picnics, etc.; who would not be a midshipman? We appeared
to be welcome everywhere. The troops and music I enjoyed, but,
what appeared curious--drill orders to the soldiers were given in
English--remnants of Peninsular!
[Sidenote: June 21.]
Our next stopping-place was St. Jago, one of the Cape de Verds. It
was dull after bright Madeira. Markets were full of tropical fruits,
monkeys, parrots, yams, and other vegetables, ground-nuts, etc. We
remained one whole day.
Of my next visit I retain some painful remembrances, but enough for the
day is the evil thereof.
We were now far within the tropics--flying-fish, porpoises, dolphin
seldom out of sight; besides, I thought of that terrible “Line” of
which I had heard so much.
[Sidenote: July 4.]
At 8 P.M. a light ahead was reported. We hove to. The sea-god Neptune
came over the bows and reported to our captain his intention of paying
a visit of welcome to all those who had not previously come within the
tropics. He brought with him his secretaries, who inscribed the names
of all first visitors. One old marine got off by stating he had served
in the Peninsula!
Soon after I observed a lighted tar-cask floating astern, and hoped
that “His Majesty” was burning in it. The next morning he boarded and
took possession, and found plenty of brutal followers to help him and
all concerned in his disagreeable duties.
I was seized by one of his greasy constables and conducted I knew not
where, and seated on something which felt like a capstan-bar. My face
was plastered with a mixture of tar and dirt, and scraped off with
a jagged piece of iron representing a razor; then, tipped backwards
into what I thought was overboard, I felt myself in the grip of other
brutes representing Neptune’s bears, who held me till I had swallowed a
sufficient portion of the filthy bath. I was then free for life to join
any future orgie.
The ducking-pond was formed by a sail secured at the corners to the
combings, the centre lowered on to the main-deck, and filled from the
wash-deck pump. On the stern of one of the boom-boats, overlooking the
proceedings, was Neptune with Amphitrite by his side, on whose knee
sat a promising young cub, son of the sail-maker; allowed on board by
special permission before leaving England, apparently looking forward
to superintending similar operations. I found my way into the Captain’s
after-cabin, where my playfellows gave me a biscuit with jam and a
little something to wash it down.
[Illustration: _Consolation._]
[Sidenote: July 17.]
We made Cape Frio July 17: then, squalls for a couple of days. Two
days after we made our number to the _Spartiate_ bearing the flag of
Rear-Admiral Sir George Eyre. The atmosphere was so clear that we could
distinctly make out the affirmative when the head of the topgallant
sails only could be seen above the horizon--a distance of fifteen miles.
[Sidenote: July 19.]
We brought the sea-breeze up with us, saluted, and followed the flag
into the magnificent harbour of Rio de Janeiro, and came to an
anchor. There I saw for the first time the white flag of France flying
on board the _Jean Bart_, 74, also the Stars and Stripes of the United
States on board the _Franklin_, 74. After the Brazilian national flag
we saluted that of Lord Cochrane, on board the _Don Pedro_, as High
Admiral of the Brazilian Navy, with 19 guns.
[Sidenote: July 24.]
I saw that gallant and extraordinary, but ill-used man, Lord Cochrane,
who came on board to return Captain Hunn’s visit. He was at this time,
in the estimation of the Old World and the New, the greatest man
afloat. He was tall and thin, of powerful build, with close-cut red
hair.
[Illustration: _Meet Lord Cochrane._]
I indeed felt proud when, on my Captain’s presenting, he shook me by
the hand. One of the last books I had read at the Naval College was his
action in the _Speedy_ sloop of 14 guns, with a crew of 54 men, when
he captured the Spanish frigate _El Gamo_, Captain de Torres. It was
on this occasion that Cochrane admitted he had nearly caught a Tartar.
While cruising off the coast of Spain, he saw what he took to be a
large merchant ship. On drawing near, she opened her hitherto disguised
ports, and disclosed the broadside guns of a frigate. Without going
into further details, she was carried by boarding. There were killed
on board the _El Gamo_ the Captain and 13 seamen, and 41 wounded,
exceeding in number the whole of the officers and crew of the _Speedy_.
The second in command of the _El Gamo_ succeeded in obtaining from
Cochrane a certificate stating that he had fought his ship like a true
Spaniard.
Captain Hunn took a house at Boto Fogo, one of those beautiful inlets
in the harbour facing the Sugar-loaf, about three miles from the town.
I was again kindly included in the family party. The principal
Portuguese and most of the English merchants had residences there.
[Sidenote: Aug. 2.]
At midnight a salute of 101 guns was fired from the batteries in honour
of the birth of a Prince and future Emperor. The salute was repeated at
daylight, noon (when we joined), sunset, and midnight.
Lord Cochrane had sailed with his fleet: an embargo was laid on all
ships for three weeks. Picnics and every sort of amusement went on.
[Sidenote: Aug. 8.]
The embargo being removed, we sailed with the early breeze in company
with some 500 sail of all nations. The show of white canvas was a
beautiful sight. When outside and in the open we spread out like a fan.
Arrived off Bahia--Bahia de los Todos Santos (Bay of All
Saints)--perfectly sheltered and capable of holding the fleets of
all nations. Cochrane had been before us, and the Brazilian flag had
replaced that of Portugal. We anchored on the west side of the bay, off
the city of San Salvador.
It appears that in June, about three months back, Lord Cochrane, with
the Brazilian squadron, consisting of the _Don Pedro_, 74, and three
frigates, manned, with the exception of 170 English seamen he had in
his flagship, by natives, appeared off this place, which was then in
possession of the Portuguese Government.
He had no sooner made the entrance than he discovered the enemy’s fleet
of thirteen sail standing out to prevent the threatened blockade.
Cochrane formed his line-of-battle, and immediately bore down and put
his enemy to flight. Nothing occurred beyond the hammering some of them
got, but it led to the establishment of the blockade of their port.
In the meantime Cochrane had prepared fireships. One dark night he
stood in in his flagship alone to reconnoitre. On being hailed, he
replied that it was an English ship. However, the consternation was
great when it was announced to the Portuguese Admiral and officers, who
were then at a ball, that Lord Cochrane’s fleet was in their midst.
A panic was established: the evacuation of San Salvador determined, and
on July 1 a Junta was formed to carry on the Government in the name of
the Brazilian Empire.
[Sidenote: Aug. 22.]
We found trade going on in the same way as I suppose it had been under
the Portuguese flag. It made but little difference to the unfortunate
slaves as to the colour of the bunting that flew over them; although
most of the Portuguese merchants were in favour of the mother-country.
The new Imperial troops were not much, although they exhibited on their
shakos “Libertad o Muerte.”
One afternoon the Captain ordered me to take a despatch on board the
_Tweed_ to the commanding officer. On going towards the landing-place I
met Nightingale, the coxswain, who informed me that he was not allowed
to pass the guard. On my remonstrating with the officer, who I noticed
was not the same who was on guard when I landed, I showed him the back
of the letter, which appeared to make matters worse. Now, I believed
myself to be in charge of a despatch of importance.
Having, on landing, noticed that the muskets in the racks at the
guard-house were beautifully polished; and thinking them more fit to
look at than for use, I told old Nightingale to be ready for a rush.
The crew were up to the occasion, and before a musket could be got
at, the sentry was on his back, and we were all in the boat, with
the exception of Harrison, a coloured bowman who had a slight bayonet
scratch on the back of his neck, being slow in casting off the painter.
After a while a few musket-balls dropped in the water short of the gig.
Of course there was a row, but I think it was our Consul who explained
that the Brazilian officer was wrong in attempting to stop a British
officer in uniform, however small. Nothing satisfactory to either party
was arranged.
We left Bahia on the 17th, and arrived at the open and exposed
anchorage of Pernambuco on August 23. We found Lord Cochrane had
arrived with his squadron on the 18th.
The “Patriots,” as they called themselves, had not been idle. Count
Manuel Carvalho Pas de Andrade had been elected President: he had
already denounced Don Pedro as a traitor, and was endeavouring to
excite the neighbouring provinces to form themselves into a federation
on the model of the United States, under the title of “Confederação del
Ecuador.”
A few days after our arrival Lord Cochrane came on board the _Tweed_,
but I do not think there was much cordiality between him and our
Captain. An attempt at arrangement by correspondence having failed,
Lord Cochrane threatened to bombard the city.
The shoal-water and exposed anchorage would not admit of the fleet
going in, but on the night of August 27 I witnessed the pretty
effect of mortar shells flying between the small craft and the forts
protecting the town. The damage done was not, however, much on either
side.
The following day we were disappointed at seeing Lord Cochrane sail for
Bahia, which he did to get wood for rafts and to procure vessels of
light draught, capable of carrying mortars. He left a portion of his
fleet behind to continue the blockade. The Brazilian General, Lima,
who had been landed with his troops about seventy miles distant at a
place called Alagoas, hearing of the panic established, pushed on for
Pernambuco, where he arrived on September 11, and, assisted by the
blockading squadron, made an attack on the town.
President Carvalho retreated to the suburbs, which were protected by
an inlet of the sea, and, having broken down the bridge, prepared to
defend himself. However, his heart failed him, for during my middle
watch the following night a catamaran came alongside with the would-be
President fully accoutred, just as he had left the fight, having come
to claim the protection of the British flag!
All the next and two following days the fight was kept up with much
spirit, the place being gallantly defended while the “brave” Count
Carvalho looked on from the deck of the _Tweed_. We were so near that
on one occasion a shot fired at one of the blockading squadron passed
over our mastheads.
On September 13 _Brazen_, 20, Captain W. Willes, arrived from the
coast of Africa. In running for the anchorage whilst hostilities were
going on, her English ensign was taken for a ruse on the part of Lord
Cochrane’s squadron, and she was fired into, two round shots taking
effect. One cut away the hammock netting and tore up part of the
quarter-deck. Luckily no one was hurt.
When Lord Cochrane returned to Pernambuco, he found Lima in possession.
He then sent an officer on board the _Tweed_ to request that the
“rebel” and “traitor” Carvalho might be given up.
Three days later the Brazilian fleet and forts fired a royal salute in
honour of the victory, in which, in obedience to an order signalled by
the Captain of the _Brazen_, we joined.
[Sidenote: Sept. 21.]
Carvalho embarked on board the _Brazen_, and, much to our disgust,
under a salute. I had to part with my two little playfellows, who, with
Mrs. Hunn, also went home in her.
Directly the _Brazen_ loosed sails, the Brazilian fleet did likewise,
and, seeing this, our Captain interpreted it (or pretended to) as
a device on the part of Lord Cochrane to take Carvalho out of the
_Brazen_ by force, and we also prepared to weigh and clear for action.
However, it all ended without smoke.
[Sidenote: Sept. 22.]
We sailed on September 22, not sorry to get away. We had been six
weeks rolling--at times, our main-deck ports in the water; holding no
communication with the shore, and, with the exception of the fighting
in which, as we would take no part, there was little to excite interest.
We youngsters amused ourselves, meanwhile, fishing, which we could
only venture to do at night, and then out of the mizen-chains, hid by
quarter-boats.
One day, when I was sitting in the gig astern of the ship, a school
of whales came into the bay, like so many frolicsome porpoises; and
so near did they come that I found my way to the ship’s deck up the
Jacob’s ladder.
[Sidenote: Oct. 2.]
We left Pernambuco on our return to Rio, where we arrived October 2.
This was a jolly place for us mids. There is no nicer harbour for
boat excursions, rides, picnics, etc., fun, in which we joined those
of other ships. One of our lieutenants, Pat Blake, was a favourite
with us. There were lively fellows in the squadron, one of whom, named
Hathorn, was lent to us from the flagship.
[Sidenote: Oct. 14.]
Early in the morning, it being calm, we were towed out of the harbour
by boats, on which events those of the foreign men-of-war always
assisted.
[Sidenote: Oct. 24.]
On the 24th we came to in Maldanado Roads, an interesting place. The
only thing that struck me as odd was, if you made a purchase which cost
less than a dollar, they chopped that coin in pieces to give you change.
We sailed the following day, and arrived at Rio de la Plata, a large
muddy river, unworthy of the name--porpoises and seal in plenty. I had
many rifle shots at the round head of the latter, with their large
bright black eyes; but they were too quick for me.
Horses were in plenty. If you hired one for a ride, the owner bargained
that in case it died you must bring back the shoes--they only shod the
forefeet. It was a wild and open country; everyone appeared mounted as
well as carrying a lasso, which would bring you to the ground with more
certainty than a pistol-shot. We never ventured alone, but took long
rides into the country.
[Sidenote: Oct. 29.]
We sailed from the River Plate, and got back to Rio October 29. Found
_Aurora_, _Blonde_, and _Jaseur_. _Blonde_ a beautiful 48-gun frigate,
Captain Lord Byron, who had on board the bodies of the late King and
Queen of the Sandwich Islands, who had fallen victims to the measles
while on a visit to England.
There was in the Rua de Rita, over a shop-door, a large gilded metal
cock that had for years resisted the attempts of the midshipmen of the
British fleet; it was not strong nor heavy, but placed out of reach.
There were watchmen about, as it had been often in danger, and it was
for the benefit of the bird that Jack Hathorn got lent to the _Tweed_,
bound for the River Plate, that he might find a suitable lasso.
Days, or rather nights, passed without an opportunity: rain did not
fall heavy enough; the moon would peep out. At length a storm, that
had been threatening the early part of the night, broke with great
violence. It was as dark as pitch. Cocoanut-oil lamps put themselves
out; heavy stones that we carried through the dark were thrown down
with a yell, unheeded by the guardians of the night; while Jack
Hathorn and a chosen few, with his Monte Video lasso as well as a
properly-prepared instrument, loosened the claws of the noble bird,
which alighted in a downpour of rain on a pile of midshipmen’s cloaks,
and was borne off.
The sentry at the guard-house, under shelter of his box, did not
trouble himself to ascertain how drunk was the comrade being conveyed
to the boat which had been so long waiting. How sorry I was that my
diminutive size prevented my having shared in this triumph! I hear the
bird may now be seen in the hall of the Hathorn family at Castle-Wigg,
in Wigtonshire, with a scroll in its beak describing the above.
[Sidenote: Dec. 16.]
Accidents will happen in the best regulated families. More than two
courts-martial took place during our stay at Rio; but my friend
Lieutenant Blake was acquitted and discharged into the _Aurora_, which
ship was towed out of harbour, and sailed for England, December 16.
As gig’s midshipman, I was much on shore; and, waiting for the Captain,
amused myself in the extensive market, furnished as it was with every
tropical fruit and flower. But my favourite amusement was to watch the
monkeys, from the beautiful little marmoset to the more mischievous
green species. One of these usually wiped his hands on my white
trousers. Although not allowed, the evening before we sailed I smuggled
my little friend on board in the Captain’s cloak-bag, and stowed him in
the scuttle of the midshipmen’s berth.
[Sidenote: Dec. 25.]
On Christmas Day we got our usual tow out of the harbour, and made sail
for England. Two days later we unbent cables and stowed anchors.
After a while it came to my turn to dine with the Captain. One of my
facetious messmates thought it good fun to give my little prisoner a
run. By instinct he made his way to the Captain’s cabin. Seated on the
deck, surveying the apartment, the Captain spotted him, and ordered the
sentry to throw the beast overboard. On the first move of the marine,
the monkey with a bound was on my shoulder, his little hands clasped
round my forehead, chattering and grinning; there being no mistake as
to the owner. I suppose the Captain was moved by the affection of the
little fellow. We were dismissed.
Nothing of importance occurred during our long voyage. On February 26
made the Lizard at daylight and bent cables. We had a chain-cable,
which was only used once; but every month we had to rouse the thing on
deck and knock the shackling-bolts out, in order to anoint them with
some white mixture.
[Sidenote: 1825. Feb. 27.]
We ran through the Needles, saluted flag, and came to at Spithead.