“One meets now and then with polished men, who know
everything.”--EMERSON.
I regretted to leave the _Syria_ chiefly because I had grown to
thoroughly appreciate the character of my captain, and to enjoy the
many talks we had on subjects connected with the sea and matters
relating to seamen. He was an exceptional man, as his after career has
proved, but he was not liked by every one, and for the matter of that,
what man worth his salt ever is? When I had arrived home, Captain Ker,
the superintendent, asked me why I had not stayed on the coast, to
which I replied that no man bade me do so.
“Then you will go out in the _African_ as a passenger,” he retorted,
“and relieve Mr. Owen.”
That passage to the Cape was memorable to me for many things that
I need not here detail. Baynton was in command and Leigh was chief
officer. The third I remember was one of those charming ne’er-do-wells
that one occasionally meets. His name is suppressed. He soon
disappeared, but he was talented, a good sailor, a good musician and a
man who was the enemy of no one but himself. I found it very nice to
have plenty of leisure with an exceptionally nice crowd of passengers.
Some of them are my friends now, but time has played sad havoc amongst
them. One of the best was Sutton Vane, the talented dramatic writer;
he and I played principal parts in a farce enacted on the passage, and
as Myles na Coppylene observed, “God be with thim good old days.” I
make my best bow to you even now, my fair shipmates, even if I do not
mention your names. Captain Baynton was kind enough to accept my help
as a navigator, and as he was laid up for a great portion of the trip
it was a pleasure to me to be of service to him. The officers in some
cases might have resented the interference of an officer on passage,
but somehow few people thought of opposing “old Ted,” as he was styled
behind his back. In a similar way Vyvyan was usually called “Lord
George,” while in after years I have been given to understand that I
was commonly spoken of as “Buffalo Bill.”
We arrived at Cape Town in due course and went our respective ways;
mine as it turned out was to be one of the most difficult I ever
traversed, for it led me to the _Basuto_, and of all the heartbreaking
ships that were, she was the worst. A north-country slop-built craft,
of low power, with a long poop and a short well and forecastle, she
could not be kept clean with the expenditure of labour that it was
practicable to devote to that purpose, for be it remembered that the
diamond fields had disorganised the usual steady routine of coast
work, and there was considerable difficulty in keeping a crew at
all. Thus discipline could not be maintained in the same manner that
was possible on the home route. I know that had it not been for the
unflinching support given us by the resident magistrate at Cape Town,
Mr. John Campbell, we should have had a difficulty in keeping the ships
going. I gladly bear my best testimony to his just and common-sense
reading of the Merchant Shipping Act, and also to the manner in which
he administered it. On sailing day it was no uncommon thing to be
obliged to go up town in a hansom cab, find your men half drunk, and
then sit upon them in the cab until you could get them safely on board
and in irons until they were sober. The _Basuto_, with Captain Draper
in command and Harry Owen as chief, had been rather a warm corner, so
when I relieved Owen I knew pretty well what was in store for me, and
truly I was in no way disappointed. There was always trouble with some
portion of the crew, and it was no uncommon matter being obliged to use
more than moral persuasion to carry on the work of the ship. Owen had
been in the habit of carrying a shooting-iron, and had found it useful
to encourage the belief that he had been schooled as a Yankee mate, but
a pistol never seemed to me to be a necessary precaution.
In connection with the employment of physical force on board ship I
and others were quite recently greatly amused by the experiences of
a captain of one of the Irrawaddy flotilla steamers, recounted as
follows: “The best peacemaker you can have is a sandbag about a foot
long and an inch thick; I and my mate and engineer have one, and we
never find it beyond us to clear the deck of a crowd.” I should think
it would be better than a belaying-pin, which is at times an awkward
thing to carry in your sea boot.
Be that as it may I found that practically everything was left in my
hands on board the _Basuto_, and that suited me excellently. We spent
our time between Cape Town and Zanzibar; there was no use hurrying,
for the ship could only go a certain pace, and if we missed one mail
we were in time for the next one, but nothing possible was spared to
do our work well. We were fortunate in having as second officer a man
I had the greatest respect for as a seaman, E. T. Jones, and further I
found by practical experience that he was a good man in an emergency,
and was to be absolutely relied upon. When in Natal we had the use of a
large ship’s boat belonging to the Company, rigged as a cutter. It was
a sight to see Jones sail her single-handed, but then he had served his
time with the Trinity House.
For some reason it had been decided that Captain Ker should leave
Southampton as marine superintendent, and reside at Cape Town as
manager of the Company in South Africa. When he arrived in Cape Town he
found the _Basuto_ after a refit, looking very spick-and-span, and I
suppose conceived the idea that that was her usual condition, which was
bad luck for me. There had never been any great cordiality between us
and there was to be less in future, for try as I might there was always
something wrong about my ship in his view, and he resented, I think,
meeting officers at houses where he visited, especially as ladies do
not always pay that deference to superior position to which its owner
may think himself entitled. But be that as it may the fact remains that
there was no love lost between us.
From time to time we carried as passengers many distinguished men, or
those who were in the way of becoming so. Especially do I remember two
clerical dignitaries; Bishop Colenso was one. He once confessed to me
a feeling of irritation because the new Bishop of Cape Town was to
be enthroned by one who was his junior in the Church of England, he
himself being precluded from officiating by reason of opinions he had
put forward. In due time the new bishop also travelled with us, and
when we got the usual dose of bad weather in consequence he declined
to turn in, saying with a merry twinkle in his eye that it would be
undignified if anything happened, for a bishop to be seen without his
gaiters. He is an archbishop now, but at the time I write of his hair
was black, and he was not above a bout at singlestick.
Just about this time there was a good deal of national unrest,
extending from Zululand to East London. It was shortly after the
Langalibalele trouble, and on our way down the coast we were ordered
to call at the Kowie and tow to Algoa Bay an American ship called
_Tecumseh_, which had lost her rudder. Captain Ker came up to supervise
the operation, and we also took on board as a passenger Mr. J. A.
Froude, the historian, who was then on his way to England. He had been
touring the country in order to form his own opinion on the political
situation for the benefit of his friend Lord Carnarvon, and one may be
permitted the remark that it was a great pity he did not take a more
careful survey of the situation, for South African politics were not
then to be learned in a three months’ sojourn in the country, or for
that matter in six either. At all events he failed to recognise the
fact that the situation was summed up in lines from Alice through the
Looking-Glass.
“The eldest oyster winked his eye, and shook his hoary head,
Meaning to say he did not choose to leave the oyster bed.”
In my own mind I have always held Mr. Froude responsible for the Boer
rising which culminated at Majuba.
Of course when it comes to doing an unusual job things cannot be
expected to work quite smoothly, and they did not on this occasion. I
had been on board the _Tecumseh_ and rigged up a makeshift rudder with
stream chain, and returned to my own ship to get the towing-gear ready
for a start at daylight. In the morning, of course, I was up betimes,
and had as I thought the situation to myself. There was one A.B. who
was constantly giving me trouble when there was anything to do, and
usually required correcting by some method before the day was out. On
this particular occasion I thought I would make the correction before
the day began, so as to have no further trouble, when looking round I
found Mr. Froude paying me quite as much attention as I thought was
necessary. He inquired whether that was my usual method of maintaining
discipline, to which I replied in the affirmative, and the incident
closed. We towed that ship to Algoa Bay all right, but two captains in
one ship are quite unnecessary. Captain Ker, however, would interfere,
and at the end of the towage drew down on himself the wrath and
language of the Yankee skipper, expressed in a masterly manner, to
which I listened with an unholy satisfaction.
On another occasion when he was taking a passage I remember him giving
me an order to alter course without consulting Draper, that was an
absolutely unwarrantable action, manager for South Africa though he
was. His last exploit at sea was, however, splendid. Another manager
was appointed, and he took command of one of the Company’s ships
that went on the rocks at Ushant one winter’s night. He saved crew,
passengers, mails and specie in twenty minutes, and it took a man to do
that.
When we got to Cape Town there was an amusing incident. One Sunday
Jones and I, with some cheery souls, went out to lunch at Coghills at
Wynberg. Mr. Froude was at the table talking in loud tones about his
great lady friends at home. There was also present Mr. Savage, one of
our directors, whom Jones did not happen to know. In the midst of lunch
Jones started to tell his friends how he had acquired some beautiful
ostrich feathers from a bird he had travelled with. I could not stop
him for my legs were not long enough, but I watched Savage’s face
until he said, interrupting dryly, “I hope those feathers were not on
freight, Mr. Jones.” Many at the table could see the joke and there was
a peal of laughter.
I was not sorry when after about twelve months I managed to get a
transfer home. I may mention here, however, the end of the _Basuto_.
She had various peculiarities, one of which was a playful habit of half
filling her after hold with water. Of course that never had anything to
do with the tunnel or the engine-room, so said the engineers at least;
I had my own opinion on the matter. Then, again, she was infested with
rats, and we got into a habit of shooting at them with small revolvers
in the evenings when we were in harbour. I say little of minor
depravities such as the anchor always fouling the stem when we got it.
Anyhow, she stayed on the coast about two years after I left her, and
then came home and was sold to some Frenchmen. The rest of the tale
about her is as it was told to me. The new owners did not understand
all her little failings as we had done; one fellow pulled a broomstick
out of a hole one morning, and that started an inrush of water which
they could not cope with. I heard that when the crew left her they did
not even stop the engines--but I do not vouch for the truth of this
particular yarn.
I got my passage home in the _Nyanza_ as supernumerary second. Warleigh
was skipper, William Somerset Ward was chief and Henry Barnes was
second. I forget the others. Now Ward was one of the men who had been
brought in over my head when the yarn was that they wanted “more
experienced men” (contrast that with the cry of to-day of too old at
forty). He was one of Green’s men and a very fine officer. He had
brought with him many of the old Blackwall fashions, one of which was
that the men of both watches should answer to their names when the
watch was relieved. That was a plan that I took with me from that ship
for the rest of my sea career, but it was an unpopular proceeding
though most useful from a disciplinary point of view. Barnes on the
other hand I had known since my first voyage to sea, when he was in the
_Elphinstone_. His appearance was fiery and his character did not belie
it, but he was a really good fellow at heart and I liked him. Trouble
soon arose. Warleigh wrote in the night order-book that the dinner
look-outs were to be kept alternately by the second, supernumerary
second, and fourth officers. As a rule they were kept by the third
and fourth only, so Barnes got the idea that Warleigh was unduly
favouring me, although I was actually Barnes’ senior in the Company. He
accordingly walked into the captain’s cabin the next morning and shut
the door. No one ever knew exactly what transpired. Barnes was a big
noisy man, and Warleigh slight and quiet. There was doubtless plain
speaking, for when Barnes reappeared he went to his cabin and remained
under arrest until we arrived home, when he left the service. He told
me afterwards that he had told Warleigh “he could make his bally chum
second mate, and perhaps that would please him”; but it always struck
me that he sacrificed his prospects for absolutely no reason.
We reached Southampton with no incident calling for special note, and
in due course I was sent for by the managing director, Mr. Mercer,
who informed me that I had been sent home by Captain Ker as my ship
was always behindhand with work, and I was constantly putting my men
in prison. “But,” said he in his most kindly manner, “as this is so
different a report from that which you have always had I am going to
send you out as chief of the _Roman_.” I thanked him to the best of
my ability, and was delighted with the change. My new skipper was
A. W. Brooke-Smith, with whom I never had any unpleasantness, and
whose friendship I value to-day. He told me confidentially that he
was delighted to have me for chief; but that we should have a warm
time on the coast as Ker hated me and would be sure to find fault.
Before we sailed Warleigh came to see me one morning to offer a bit of
advice. It was “Don’t do so much yourself; make the other officers do
more.” Ever after I acted upon this; it did not increase my popularity
with my fellows, but the counsel was good. Popularity may be paid for
too dearly, and after all it is our superiors that we should try to
please. Brooke-Smith was a great stickler for orders being obeyed to
the letter without any consideration as to discretionary power. He
also was given to making unreasonable demands upon one’s power of
performance. For instance, on Saturday at 9 a.m. he would give an
order to send down topsail-yards, and then expect the ship to be as
fit for inspection at 11 a.m. as if nothing extra had been done. Lower
and upper yards were all in the day’s work, but topsail-yards were an
innovation, and hardly fair play for Saturday morning. However, it was
done, and all went off well. When in that ship I had the good fortune
to make many friends, one of whom was Herbert Rhodes (brother of the
Colossus). What a splendid character that man had--a head to plan, a
hand to execute and the heart of a child. I think I was the last of all
his friends to see him before his untimely end.
Then again, one passage home there was Lord Rossmore and his brother
the Hon. Peter Westenra. Very lively companions they were--I never met
their equals in that respect. They never seemed to want to sleep, and
if there was any mischief to be done there was no need to call for
volunteers. They were cheery shipmates and left a pleasant remembrance
behind them. Also do I well remember Captain Byng, R.N., the commander
of the _Active_, Admiral Hewitt’s flagship. He also was a cheery soul,
and we habitually spent our evenings together. I learned from him many
tricks in the trade of managing men.
I now had rather more time to attend to my personal affairs, and one
important matter was to get my master’s certificate. I could now ask
for leave to go to town to pass, and was furnished with excellent
references both from the Company and my captains. We had as marine
superintendent at this time Captain Walter Dixon, who had commanded
the Company’s ships for years. He was a very excellent man for the
post, kind, courteous and considerate. But in spite of agreeable
qualities there was never any doubt as to his ability to enforce his
will, and his word went a long way with the Board of Direction. In
addition he was the keenest of sportsmen. He simply loved horses and
sport, and rather affected a horsey style of dress. He did me many a
good turn, as it will give me pleasure to relate.
Passing for master at the time I write of was no great ordeal, but it
was a somewhat tricky one for this reason--the examiners in seamanship
were necessarily old sailing-ship men. It may be presumed that they
considered a steamship man as a sort of inferior being, or shall we
say a hybrid being--at best a makeshift seaman. The fact was that
many officers who had grown up in steamers had not had my experience
in sail, or the opportunity of picking up the old art of sailoring,
and it will be realised that there were times when they might find
themselves a little uncomfortable in the examination-room. I was to
see an instance of this. Naturally, I went again to John Newton for a
final rub up, although I had been coaching myself for some time past,
for there were always new fads to be prepared for on the part of the
examiners. But I greatly fear that I was again the bad boy of the
class, for Newton would at times look at me with grave eyes, and did
not commit himself to any optimistic view of my chances of success.
The eventful day at length came round when our fates were to be
decided. I remember that I made a mistake in my figures which I was
given an opportunity to correct, for every possible bit of fair play
was given. The examiner in this particular matter sat next me at a
recent Trinity House luncheon, a younger brother like myself, and I
reminded him of ancient times with pleasure.
But after the navigation came the seamanship and that was “quite
another story.” Captain Steel was my examiner and he proceeded to
put me through the mill in a most thorough manner. At last he got
on the topic of handling a sailing-ship under short canvas in heavy
weather. He proceeded on a system which supposed various changes of
wind, and finally asked me what I would do under certain conditions. I
was nonplussed. Then he brought in Captain Dommett who was engaged in
the next room examining a chief officer from the Royal Mail and told
him where I was puzzled. Finally he left me with a diagram to study
while they both went into the next room to put the same question to
the West India Mail man. Suddenly the right answer came to me. It was
only catchy in a room, it would have been palpable at sea in practice,
and when Captain Steel returned I merely told him that the answer
was “Wear ship.” That was the conclusion of the examination, and I
was complimented upon having done well, but the man in the next room
was not so fortunate. To pluck a chief officer of tried ability in a
first-class line is a serious matter, and rightly before doing so the
examiner took a second opinion. The unfortunate officer in this case
had got through his figures without a mistake, and far better than I
had, but for want of sailing-ship experience he was sent back to sea in
a steamer “to gain experience” to answer such a question as had nearly
done for me. That was one of the bright days of my life, for I thought
the ball was at my feet as I sped to the telegraph office to send a
wire to Captain Dixon, who took considerable interest in the careers
of his officers. He used to consider that he could put his hand on men
suitable to perform any service, and was proud of it. After that I went
to John Newton, where there was a gathering of plucked ones. Newton was
surprised at my success and asked me if I was a Freemason, to which
I replied in the negative, for the absurd belief was entertained that
my passing was due to the correctness of that surmise. I wished him a
cordial good-bye with many thanks for the trouble he had taken over me.
About this time I received my commission as a sub-lieutenant in the
Royal Naval Reserve, and to this day I am uncertain whether it was a
good day’s work or a bad one when I did so. I also got married.
The command of the _Roman_ was now changed to Captain S. R. P. Caines,
a man of considerable character, but of no great discretion. He was
probably his own greatest enemy, for as a shipmate I found him all that
could be desired. He did not care much to associate with passengers,
except at meal times, and usually spent his evening in my cabin, or
rather I should say came and smoked for two hours when I came off
watch. Needless to say that when skipper and chief were on these terms
the work of the ship went on well, and we rather fancied ourselves in
the old _Roman_ and thought we could show other ships how to do things
properly.
We were nearly always lucky in our crews, for the men got to know what
was expected of them, and I know that I egged the skipper on to many
an innovation. For instance, one day in Algoa Bay I was curious to see
how long it would take to get all boats out to abandon ship. This we
did suddenly one day, with the result that including fire drill and
rehoisting all boats, forty minutes was the time taken. I also learned
there to pay attention to boats. One time, leaving Southampton, a
fireman (drunk) got on the rail, and saying that he was going back to
his wife, jumped overboard in the Needles passage. The second officer
(Pybus), the third, two quarter-masters and myself, jumped into the
boat fitted with Clifford’s gear, dropped her into the water, picked
up our man, and were hoisted up and proceeding in eight minutes; that
was pretty smart work, but I had personally seen that boat was in order
half-an-hour previously. I fear that Clifford’s patent is no longer
as popular as it was. True that it is a little expensive to keep up,
and requires care if used with a heavy boat, but with it a boat may be
dropped in the water with perfect safety, no matter what the speed of
the vessel may be, and I know that I stuck to it for the time I was at
sea. Then again, it was our custom habitually to strip the ship as much
as possible when steaming against the S.E. trade. I was anxious to find
out what difference it would make if in addition to sending down yards,
we housed our topmasts. When this came to be done, however, I found out
what I had let myself in for. It was a heavy job to carry out at sea,
but as it made the difference of a quarter of a knot in speed, I had to
do it each voyage. On the last occasion we did the job between 7 and 9
a.m. and had a day’s work afterwards, but getting the topmasts up again
was at times a ticklish operation. However, we never killed any one.
There is an incident that I may mention when on one occasion most of
the crew got drunk and out of hand at sea. It was one Saturday night
and a beautiful moonlight one at that. Where the men got the drink from
we never knew, but there was violence and a free fight more or less
before getting some of them in irons and tied up to the mainboom for
security until they were sober. We had a young parson on board, the
Rev. R. H. Fair, a Cape boy, who had been a Cambridge athlete, and is
now rector of West Meon. His distress was great at having no legitimate
excuse for taking part in the scrum, but he had a share in it after
all. While it was at its height I was forced backward over a door-sill,
and had it not been for Fair’s action in pulling off my assailant
I should have had the worst of it. It all ended without serious
consequences and the men were heartily ashamed of themselves next
morning. We punished some of them when we got to Southampton. About
this time, August 1877, I took long leave, and left the old ship with
regret. I wanted to put in some Naval Reserve drill and to the best of
my recollection there was then no drill ship at Southampton. Anyhow, I
had to stay in London in order to drill on board H.M.S. _President_,
and of it I will only say here that while the instructors were possibly
the best that could be found in the navy and the teaching of the first
order, there seemed always to be an under-current of indifference so
far as the officers were concerned. I was anxious to learn, and did
not get nearly enough to satisfy me. I got on my certificate “has been
energetic and very attentive,” but had acquired a taste for the Queen’s
service, which very often caused me to pay less attention than I might
have done to things more intimately connected with money-getting.
Suddenly I received instruction to join the _Danube_, and went to
Southampton once more, where I found my old skipper Draper in command
and the ship taken up for troops. To the best of my belief it was the
head-quarters of the 32nd and they were going to Queenstown, South
Africa. Trooping is an experience that improves on acquaintance, but
one was apt in those days to think that the embarkation officials were
unduly fussy. In reality they were nothing of the sort, for to keep
troops healthy too great care cannot be exercised. The naval captain
who was inspecting told me that as he knew boats were a hobby of mine,
he intended to leave that matter to me.
I think the officer in command of the troops, Major Rogers, V.C.,
was an unmarried man, for he was grimly satirical on embarkation day
on the subject of officers looking after their wives’ band-boxes
instead of seeing to their men. He and I became on very good terms.
In point of fact they were all a most agreeable lot, if I except two
junior officers whom I could not get on with at all. The ladies were
charming, but it was a little amusing at times to hear them expressing
their candid opinions of some of their colleagues. There was also as
a passenger going to Natal, Major Mitchell, afterwards Sir Charles
Mitchell, K.C.M.G., a very striking personality. I think he had been
in the Marines. He made my acquaintance by approving of the manner in
which the decks were cleaned in the morning. He used the expression
that “they were like a hound’s tooth,” and as that smacked greatly
of salt water, we took to one another and formed a friendship that
lasted longer than differences of opinions. He had a most wonderful
memory. I remember his sitting on the quarterdeck with a crowd of
people (mostly ladies) round him, and reciting without a note the “Lay
of the last Minstrel,” and doing it in such a manner as to hold his
audience spellbound. I often met him, after the voyage was over, in
various parts of the world. He showed ever the same courteous cheery
personality so valuable to a public man.
There was nothing of exciting interest on the passage; things went
smoothly, but the following incident deserves to be told. The officer
commanding the troops visited the troops’ quarters every morning at
eleven with his officers and me in attendance. There were sentries
posted in different parts of the ship, and one was stationed by the
principal hatchway. Some point was raised as we were going below,
and the O.C. turned to the sentry and said, “Go and find Sergeant
So-and-So.” The man, a youngster, flushed very red and said, “I must
not leave my post, sir.” The O.C. turned red too and said, “But I
tell you to go,” and again received the same reply. By this time the
O.C. had got his breath, some one else was sent, and the sentry was
told that he had done quite right. I observed to the O.C. when the
inspection was over that I fancied that chap would soon get promotion
and I found that the O.C. shared my view. It was an interesting case to
me, for I wondered in the circumstances whether a sailor sentry would
have hesitated to obey an immediate order from his C.O.
One other story of an entirely different nature. Fatigue parties were
at times told off to clean paintwork about the decks, and they were
usually in the care of an able seaman who put them in the way of doing
it properly. One afternoon I was out of sight but within earshot of
a party working with a seaman named McRae, a man I could trust to do
anything, but an awfully wild scoundrel if he got out of hand. Said
one of the young Tommies, “What would you do if you hadn’t got us to
clean the ship for you?” Said McRae, “If it was not for the likes of
you carrion there’d be no dirt to clean.” I retired to my cabin for a
big laugh over that. I think we landed the regiment at East London,
using cheese baskets to put the men into the lighters, and in due
course we started homewards, but there was an incident in Algoa Bay
that I should like to tell the truth about at last. At this time there
was a good deal of rivalry between some of the ships, as to which had
made the fastest passage, and some brilliant genius conceived the idea
of making the image of a brass cock with his wings extended in the
act of crowing. This was mounted on the jackstaff of the commodore’s
ship the _German_, but many of us thought that she did not deserve the
trophy, for even the old _Roman_, which was then in port, had made a
wonderful run after a smart chief engineer had altered the lead of his
slide valves. Be that as it may, it would be good business to score
a point off the chief of the _German_, if we could manage to do so.
There was one officer in the _Danube_ who was born for mischief, his
name was Samuel Pechell. Afterwards he came into a baronetcy and soon
died. But at the time I write of he was third or fourth officer. There
were many ships in the Bay, some belonging to the Currie fleet, so
that suspicion would be divided as to the perpetrators of the robbery,
especially as it was said that some people from the _Conway Castle_ had
made a previous attempt at Cape Town. It was a bright moonlight night,
shortly after 3 a.m., when Sammy Pechell and McRae having covered our
dingy with white sheets, started to paddle ahead of the _American_, and
drop down to her bows hanging on by the cable. Like a monkey McRae was
up the cable, and in less time than it takes me to write these lines
was down again with the coveted bird. I had grave suspicions that the
_Melrose_, one of the Currie coasters just coming in, had seen the job,
but I suppose that a boat under the bow of an opposition ship did not
interest them. There was a watch too in the _German_, for “seven bells”
were struck just after the cock disappeared. We had intended to put
it up on the _Roman_, but I vetoed anything further that night. The
bird was afterwards packed in a game hamper and set to Wait, the chief
officer, in Southampton. Next morning there was a fine hubbub all round
the fleet; there may have been suspicions but no certainty, for many
thought it had been done by some of the Currie men. In due course I
told my skipper, who dwelt on the enormity of stealing the commodore’s
bird and told me I ought to be sacked for encouraging such a thing.
Dear old Captain Coxwell was the commodore, and his remarks to me the
next time we met were picturesque, but never shall I forget distinctly
seeing McRae cross himself before he shinned up that cable. All the
people in the _German_ were quite mad over the episode, and I am afraid
that Pechell had a bad time of it afterwards when he had to sail with
McLean Wait, who I fancy had got to the truth of the business.
There is just one remark I would make in passing, and that is on the
liability to be caught at misdoing at any time. On the passage home
entering the Channel, we were put into double watches of six hours
each--and six hours is a long watch in cold weather, as it then was;
Pechell was my junior, and was supposed to supervise the forecastle
look-out, but really was a good deal on the bridge with me. I had the
first watch, which ended at 2 a.m., and about one o’clock I said to
Pechell, “Go down to my cabin, have a tot yourself, and bring me up a
glass of hot grog, as soon as you can.” He went, and shortly afterwards
the skipper came on the bridge and took possession of the weather
corner under the screen. I heard my door open and up came Sam. Not
seeing the skipper in the dark, he observed audibly, “There you are,
sir, I made it stiff!” The reek of whisky on the night air was palpable
as I drank it, and Draper made sarcastic comments. I must, however, do
him the justice to say that he seldom troubled me, and I am certain
would sooner have brought me refreshment himself rather than that I
should put foot off the bridge.
When we got to Southampton that time it was on a Sunday, and my only
regret was that Captain Dixon was not down to see the ship. She was in
such order that she satisfied even me, and Draper, a very particular
and natty man, could not offer even a suggestion, for her appearance
represented the culmination of all the years I had served as chief in
learning how to put and keep a ship in proper order. But I was growing
dissatisfied, there were men being placed in command who were new
comers compared with me, and as there was an old saying, “that modesty
was a sweet thing in a woman but not worth a rap in a man,” I put such
remnants as I had in my pocket and laid siege to Captain Dixon. My
friend, Mrs. Baynton, had also been having a few simple words on my
account with more than one of the directors, one of whom (Mr. Savage)
had said to me some little time previously, “that I was all right, but
that they thought I hardly carried ballast enough.” To this I retorted
that I had a wife and surely that was enough to give one stability.
Captain Dixon was most kind. I pointed out that I was fit for command
and that I hoped he would help me, to which he replied that he would
be pleased to make me Captain Crutchley, but that unfortunately he
could not make ships. He would, however, keep me at home, so that I
might be on the spot if a vacancy occurred. I do not remember who
relieved me, but I left the _Danube_ to make myself generally useful
in various companies’ ships in port. At that time there were few men
who considered it necessary to pass the Board of Trade examination in
steam, but as I could make the time fit in I did so, and if such a
certificate is useful to a master on even one occasion it is well worth
the trouble of obtaining. It helped me materially on one occasion.
There were two engineer examiners, and the experience was a new one for
them, but they took no unfair advantage of their superior knowledge,
and I had the satisfaction of seeing my certificate endorsed with
the words “Passed in Steam.” My practical examination took place in
the engine-room of the _Asiatic_, and curiously enough, two days
afterwards I was ordered to act for her captain in taking the ship
down the river. At this time there was another chief officer also on
shore, A. McLean Wait, who had been chief of the _German_. I did not
dream that other people might be pulling strings that might hamper me,
but there was more going on than I was aware of. I should state that
although Wait was actually my junior in the Company he had held a good
command previous to joining it, and it was generally considered that
he was marked for early promotion. He and I were good friends, and I
had assisted him at a function in the _German_ when she was a new
ship. He was a man of considerable attainments, but somehow there was
a something in his manner which did not attract people; he had lots
of good friends, however, and nature had been kind to him so far as
personal appearance was concerned.
One morning I had taken some specie that had been landed from one of
our ships to the Bank of England, and having done so went to report
the fact to the Company’s office in Leadenhall Street. When leaving I
met Wait going in; I had a chat with him afterwards, going to spend an
hour at the Aquarium before returning to Southampton. There were two
things with which I was not acquainted. One was that there was a Board
Meeting that day, the other that the command of the _American_ was
vacant and that Wait had been sent for with a view to giving it to him.
He was called before the Board, and there some comment was made as to
his having lost a ship; this appeared to go against him, for the word
came out to ask for me. I was not to be found, and Wait was appointed,
for the ship was shortly to sail. This shows on what trifles things
hang, for the few weeks seniority he got by this gave him a series of
chances which might well have formed part of my life’s story. It kept
him in command when the Company’s fleet was reduced, and afterwards
permitted him to become marine superintendent, and subsequently the
Company’s agent in New York. We always maintained a cordial if casual
correspondence.
There were a number of new ships being built for the Company’s service,
and it was now the turn of the _Pretoria_ to make her appearance.
Great things were expected of her, and when the _African_ came home
George Larmer was taken from her and given command of the new vessel.
This made another vacancy, and it was then my turn to be summoned to
the directors. Sir Benjamin Phillips was chairman, and the chair on
his right hand was always reserved for the master under _dissection_.
On this occasion the experience was a pleasing one, for in his most
courtly manner he observed, “Captain Crutchley, if you will always
consider that the Company’s honour, so far as the _African_ is
concerned, is entrusted to your keeping, you will please and satisfy
us: now, will you give us the pleasure of your company to lunch?”
It is strange, but though the remembrance of that day is very dim, I
always recollect those words and the grave courtesy with which they
were spoken. The directors were naturally men of varying temperaments.
There had formerly been a director I never met, whom I will designate
as H, whose business it was to rebuke a master whenever such a
proceeding in the opinion of the Board became necessary. It was stated
that he had a great talent for language, on which point I ought to tell
a story. He was a merchant, and had in his business a nephew who was
known as Mr. John (afterwards a cordial friend of mine) who, on some
provocation, had told one of the clerks that he was a damn fool. The
clerk complained to H, who looking him full in the face said, in his
broad Scotch accent: “Whether Mr. John was right or wrong to _call_
you a fool, I’ll no tak’ upon mysel’ to determine, but ye _are_ a damn
fool--ye are--ye are--ye are.” And the man fled.
When I come to think it over, that Board of Directors was good for
a straightforward conservative policy, but as events proved was not
well fitted to deal with the more exacting conditions entailed by the
competition of modern shipowning. In fact it was not up to date, and it
never took to itself the leaven that would enable it to cope with the
situation created by the opposition of the Castle Company. It was the
greatest of all pities when the flag of the Union Company was merged
into that of the Castle Line. It was doubtless a proud day for Sir
Donald Currie, but I shall always maintain it as discreditable to those
who permitted the transfer, and particularly so to the chief actor
in the surrender. The transfer did not take place during my term of
service in the Company, but it was galling even to an old employé to
see the armour of Achilles appropriated by a hated Trojan.
I had previously made a passage in the _African_, so that my first
command was in no way a stranger to me. She was a pretty little ship of
rather more than 2000 tons gross, with a fine long poop and comfortable
accommodation for passengers. Her speed under steam alone was something
over ten knots, but with the help of canvas and a strong fair wind she
could touch 300 miles a day. That was not often, however. My cabin
was in the poop right forward on the starboard side, and it had the
disadvantage that, except in very fine weather, one could not sit there
with the saloon door open. But to overcome this there were times when
I had a canvas screen nailed up to overcome the trouble, for it was
not necessary to stay on the bridge always. The worst thing about the
ship was the compass. The standard was a large spirit compass that was
always giving trouble, and the steering compass on the bridge was close
to a mass of iron tanks, stanchions and disturbing matter generally, so
that it was almost impossible to compensate for local disturbance. In
every other way the ship was perfectly found, but this little matter of
a proper compass, on which so much depended, was one that was driven
to the background and slighted by every one. It was no part of my
business either as a junior to find fault. I had to take that which had
satisfied my predecessors, and as it happened she had been commanded
by Captain Dixon before he was made superintendent, as well as Captain
Baynton, the commodore. My policy was to lie low and get what I could
as time went on. There was a story told of a certain captain, a very
tall man, who mentioned to the deputy superintendent that his berth was
not long enough for him to sleep in. This, it is said, was reported to
Mr. Mercer, who replied in his usually dry manner, “If the man cannot
fit into the berth, we must find one that can; fortunately the world
is wide and the field is large.” The last half of the answer was often
hinted at if inconvenient requests were made.
There were a very nice set of officers in the ship; but the chief was a
senior man, and it is a little awkward to come the skipper over one of
your colleagues. He was a Cape man named Chiappini, and was afterwards
killed by an accidental fall when serving in the _Arab_. The third
was a youngster named East, the son of Quartermain East of Tichborne
claimant fame. First and last he sailed with me for many years, and
there was a great friendship between us. The second, Walter Foster, was
also a nice fellow, but very delicate, though plucky to the backbone.
The engineers also were a good set. The chief, Ernest Gearing, is now
I believe one of the leading lights in the engineering world, and it
was easy to discover even then that his acquirements were of no common
order. Lastly let me mention Henry Black, the second engineer. There
was no great amount of sympathy between us at any time, but he sailed
with me as chief engineer during the greater part of my sea career.
I have gone into this detail with a view to showing the sort of men
the Company’s ships were manned with. Sailing day came at last; there
were not many passengers, but one of our directors came down to see the
ship off, bringing with him one of his very charming daughters, who was
kind enough to wish me luck and a successful command. I took it as a
good omen, and if I do not mention her name, it is in no sense that I
have forgotten it, or the graceful kindness shown me on more than one
occasion. We arrived at Plymouth in due course, and there I learned
to my great satisfaction that my friend Harry Escombe had decided at
the last minute to take a passage with me. He arrived on board in due
course, and I started on a new experience--that of being my own master.
This particular voyage we were on was a novelty also, for the people at
Algoa Bay had been complaining they did not get their goods as quickly
in proportion as the Cape Town people. We were therefore to call at St.
Vincent to pick up the latest cable news and then to go to Algoa Bay
direct, passing by Cape Town. We were also to go to Natal.
I rather think that some small smattering of commercial education
should be imparted to holders of certificates, and one thing that
should certainly be driven into their heads is that to send a letter
on business without keeping a copy is little short of crime. I did not
learn that lesson for a long time, but I wish now I had copies of the
letters in which I gave the various incidents of the voyages to my
chiefs at home. Captain Dixon had asked me to write to him fully, which
I always did, even going so far as to relate gossip, but the letters to
the secretary were necessarily of a more reserved order. For rightly or
wrongly a secretary is usually considered by the staff afloat as the
enemy of all mankind. It is natural enough, for as a rule the wiggings
come through him, and he on his part gradually acquires the idea that
he is quite competent to instruct a master upon any subject--that he
is in short a vicarious person inheriting the combined wisdom of the
board. This pretension is not in every case acknowledged. I regret
to state that I rather carried with me the impression that masters
had natural enemies, but when I consider the number of years I lived
without keeping any journal, or record of events, I am not prepared
to argue that they do not indirectly invite trouble. I know that the
search necessary to make dates fit in for this narrative has been by
no means inconsiderable, and the good offices of Admiral Inglefield of
Lloyd’s has helped me to overcome past omissions. He caused a record of
my commands to be made, thus helping me materially to put facts in the
order in which they occurred.
It would not have been possible to get a finer start than we had on
that voyage, with a beautiful fine N.E. wind that took us well down
to St. Vincent. I find that we were running close upon 300 miles for
several days, and then came the job of taking the ship into port on
a fair moonlight night, not by any means a difficult matter when you
are used to it, but if you permit it to get upon your imagination,
curious results are at times obtained. I had made up my mind from past
experiences that show irresolution on the bridge I would not! I had
seen so many skippers wandering into an anchorage, and driving every
one mad in the course of getting a berth, that I was determined not to
lay myself open to such a reproach. I once sailed with a man who if he
had the whole anchorage to choose from would go and give a solitary
vessel a foul berth, simply because he did not know where he wanted to
go. I saw him do it once in Natal Roads. Again, constantly stopping
or easing the engines by guesswork ought to be avoided when coming to
an anchorage, but I am talking of long ago, and I dare say the men of
today know exactly when to ease their engines so as not to lose time.
On this particular occasion I thought I knew where I wanted to go, and
was going there in a hurry. I anchored rather sooner than I had meant
to do, but it was all right, and Escombe came to congratulate me on
the way I had brought the ship in. I had, however, already discovered
that there was a much better berth than the one I was in, and had given
orders to get the anchor and shift at once, which I did, carefully
keeping my reasons to myself for so doing. I may remark that in most
places steamers anchor closer inshore than sailing ships. In St.
Vincent they reverse this order of things.
We coaled up and left in due course. There were not many saloon
passengers, but we were a very cheery party. It was distinctly the
commencement of a liberal education to have the intimate acquaintance
of a man like Escombe, who in addition to great natural gifts had
acquired an omniverous appetite for knowledge. Especially keen was he
upon astronomy, and his store of information was always open to draw
upon. Even in the intricacies of a seaman’s calling he was well versed,
for his practice at the bar had put many strange cases before him to
unravel.
There was not much else that called for comment before we reached Algoa
Bay. Here Escombe transhipped to a coasting steamer in order to reach
Natal sooner than we should, for we had to discharge a portion of our
cargo. He did so against my advice, and as he did not save the time
he anticipated, forfeited a bet to me of the best pair of binocular
glasses to be got at Baker’s of Holborn. They lasted me for my time at
sea, and I never saw a better pair. In Algoa Bay the _Dunrobin Castle_
was at anchor. She was commanded by Alec Winchester, who was a splendid
seaman and a marvel at handling his ship. My old friend, Barnes, was
also chief officer there, for Mr. Currie, as he then was, was always
pleased to snap up any good officer who was leaving our service. By
this time there was a little better feeling between the two services,
and I know that Alec Winchester put me up to many things concerning
a ship which few learn save by actual experience, and I am glad to
acknowledge the obligation. We went on to Natal, finished our discharge
and loading, and in due course arrived at Table Bay on the homeward
trip one Sunday afternoon.
As it was getting dusk and there was more than a bit of a south-easter
blowing, I should like to pass over this incident, but cannot in
fairness to the truth of this story.
The entrance to Cape Town dock in those days bore a resemblance to a
donkey’s hind leg, inasmuch, as there was a crook in it. The inside of
this crook was formed by the end of a stone wall and a small jetty,
and it was arranged that we were to stay in the lock or entrance until
we sailed. I started to get in, but as the two insides of the crook
were to leeward of me, I found myself hitting the end of the stone
pier rather hard while the stern of the ship rested gracefully on the
jetty. The _African_, I thank Providence for it, had a clipper bow.
“Go forward,” said I to the third officer, “and see how much of her
is smashed up.” He returned with the information that the ship was
intact and uninjured. She had only run up the stone wall a little,
and displaced a big stone or two. By this time we had got out hawsers
and warped her to windward (where we remained until sailing day), and
an hour afterwards were sitting at dinner. I thought many kind things
concerning Providence, but even then I fear I did not realise to the
full what my obligations were.
Sailing day came, still blowing hard from S.E., and I had to back
the ship out stern first. I did not look forward with any degree of
confidence to the job, but kept a face of brass to all and sundry.
Warleigh, who was there in dock, came and chatted just before I
started, and pointed out with perfect accuracy just exactly how the
ship would behave under stern way. It was very good of him and I told
him so. We got out with no accident; in fact, I was satisfied, and
I have frequently noticed that if I have that feeling, most people
concerned share it with me.
An hour after the time fixed for our departure the _Warwick Castle_,
Mr. Currie’s newest and fastest ship, was to leave. She was commanded
by Captain Webster, who I was told had promised to make an exhibition
of my ship. As soon as I was clear of the breakwater I got the canvas
on and I rather fancy my chief engineer had got the needle too, for
although we saw the _Warwick_ come out of the Bay, gain on us she could
not, and we saw her astern for a day or more, when we lost sight of
her. The reason, of course, was that we had a spanking trade wind, and
our canvas helped us. We carried a fair wind to Cape Verde and then I
knew that our advantage was over. When we arrived at Madeira, the other
ship had left some hours, but we were told that Captain Webster had
spent some time in the stokehole of the _Warwick_, and was furious at
his inability to pass us.
As showing the relative merits of Southampton and London as ports for
southern-going steamers, let me mention that my ship was docked and
discharging, and I had been to London and seen my directors before the
_Warwick Castle_ had passed Gravesend. There was nothing of special
note that happened between Madeira and Plymouth, but I left the latter
port at five on a December afternoon with a fog coming on. I kept her
going, and was justified in doing so by the fact that I hit nothing. At
last, getting into I think it was nine fathoms of water, I turned her
round due west and saw the Needles light red on my starboard beam. I
need say no more than that Providence perhaps showed partiality even to
the end on my first voyage.
I should say that when I met my directors Mr. Mercer was kind enough to
say that I had made a remarkable passage to Madeira.