At the request of my son, the Author of this volume, I have undertaken
to write the Preface, and to say a few words on the very peculiar and
noble traits of character, which distinguish the British seaman on all
trying occasions, and especially in the terrible hour of shipwreck.
Many circumstances have combined to make me take a warm interest in
all that concerns the navy. In early life, having passed several
months in a line-of-battle ship during the war with France, I was an
eye-witness of scenes and events, which called forth some of those
qualities that are illustrated in the following pages. For the
restoration of my health, in the year 1811, I was advised to try the
effects of sea air and a change of climate, and was glad to accept the
opportunity offered me, by the captain of an eighty-gun ship, to take
a cruise with him off the southern parts of the French coast.
On one occasion, in a severe tempest in the Bay of Biscay, a flash of
lightning struck the ship and set her on fire. The calmness with which
orders were given and obeyed, and the rapidity with which the fire was
extinguished, without the least hurry or confusion, made a deep
impression on me. This was afterwards increased by the conduct of the
crew in a severe gale of wind, when it was necessary to navigate one
of the narrow channels, by which the squadron that blockaded Rochelle
and Rochfort was frequently endangered. The vessel had to pass between
two rocks, so near that a biscuit could have been thrown from the deck
on either. An old quarter-master was at the wheel; the captain stood
by to con and to direct his steering. At one fearful crisis, every
blast threatened to shiver a sail, or to carry away a spar, and a
single false movement of the helmsman, or the slightest want of
steadiness or of obedience on the part of any man on duty, would have
been fatal to the life of every one on board.
As they drifted on their path
There was silence deep as death,
And the boldest held his breath
For a time.
When the danger was over, the captain thanked the officers and men for
their conduct, and gave a snuff-box with five guineas in it to the
quarter-master, in admiration of his steady head and iron nerves.
I mention these incidents in my early experience as a sort of apology
for a landsman's presumption, in venturing to write this Preface to a
series of nautical details. In after years, the death of a dear
brother, a lieutenant in the navy, who lost his life in a generous
attempt to save a vessel from shipwreck on the coast of Sussex, moved
me to a still deeper concern for those whose employment is 'in the
great waters.'
My early observation of the hazards of a sailor's career, and my
brother's sudden call to his last account, in the awful perils of a
storm at sea, taught me to reflect with painful solemnity on the many
thousand instances, in which our naval protectors are summoned in a
moment, prepared or unprepared, to stand before the throne of the
Eternal. Often have I asked myself and others, Can nothing be done to
elevate the hopes, and to place the fortitude of these men on a firmer
foundation than that of mere animal courage, or the instinct of
discipline? The present is an opportunity of pleading for the sailor
which I should be sorry to lose, and of suggesting something, which
may establish his good conduct on a basis more durable, and more
certain, than even the well-known courage and discipline of a British
tar.
I shall begin by noticing the extraordinary displays of
self-possession, self-devotion, and endurance, which shed lustre on
our naval service; and I will close my remarks with hints for the
improvement of these noble qualities.
The intrepidity and mental resources of a brave man are more
discernible in the hour of patient suffering, than in that of daring
action: and the contents of this volume form a record of heroic doings
and endurances, which exhibits the British seaman as a true specimen
of the national character. Duty is his watchword, and the leading
principle by which he is governed. Nelson knew the spirits he had to
deal with, when he hoisted the memorable signal, 'England expects
every man to do his duty.' He was well aware that the men who could
patiently and calmly face the toil and danger of a blockading fleet,
day and night, on the stormy waves of the Bay of Biscay, or on the lee
shores of the Mediterranean, such as his fleet had had to encounter,
wanted no other stimulus, in the presence of the enemy, than that
which he so confidently applied. Napoleon found to his cost, on the
field of Waterloo, that the word _Glory_ had no longer any power to
launch his battalions successfully against troops, who had learnt in
the British school of duty and obedience to confront death, not only
in the impetuous battle-charge, but in the more trying season of long
endurance in the Lines of Torres Vedras. Men who can wait, and bear
and forbear, and remain steadily at their post under every provocation
to leave it, are invincible opponents. The cool determination which
resisted the onset, and withstood the furious rush of the French
Guards, was part and parcel of the same character which made heroes of
the comrades of Nelson. To obey implicitly, and to feel that no
quality is superior to that of obedience,--to wait for your
commander's word,--to keep order,--to preserve presence of mind,--to
consider yourself one of many, who are to follow the same rule, and to
act in unison with each other,--to regulate your movements according
to the demands of the common safety,--to consider your honour to be as
much at stake in submitting to a command to remain stationary and not
to stir, as to dash forward,--these are the peculiarities, which
constitute the substantial excellence of the national character; and
the shipwrecks of the Royal Navy illustrate this national character
even more than the battles of the Nile and of Trafalgar. The perils of
a shipwreck are so much beyond those of a battle, that the loss of
life, when the St. George, the Defence, and the Hero, were wrecked in
the North Seas, in 1811, was far greater than that on the part of the
English in any naval action of late years. In order to place the
qualities of obedience and endurance--so characteristic of the British
seaman--in the strongest light, and to show by contrast that the
possession of them is the greatest security in danger, whilst the want
of them ensures destruction, I commend the following statement to the
attention of all who shall read this volume.
In the year 1816 two stately vessels were sailing on the ocean, in all
the pride of perfect equipment and of glorious enterprise. The one was
an English frigate, the Alceste, having on board our ambassador to
China; the other was a French frigate, the Medusa, taking out the
suite of a governor for one of the colonies of France on the coast of
Africa. The importance of the mission on which each ship was
despatched, and the value of the freight, would seem to assure us that
the Alceste and the Medusa were officered and manned by the best crews
that could be selected. Two nations, rivals in science and
civilization, who had lately been contending for the empire of the
world, and in the course of that contest had exhibited the most heroic
examples of promptitude and courage, were nautically represented, we
may suppose, by the elite who walked the decks of the Alceste and the
Medusa. If any calamity should happen to either, it could not be
attributed to a failure of that brilliant gallantry, which the English
and French had equally displayed on the most trying occasions.
But a calamity of the most fearful nature did befal both, out of which
the Alceste's crew were delivered with life and honour untouched, when
that of the Medusa sank under a catastrophe, which has become a
proverb and a bye-word to mariners. Both ships were wrecked. For an
account of the good conduct, of the calm and resolute endurance, and
of the admirable discipline to which, under Providence, the
preservation of the crew of the Alceste is to be attributed, see pages
204-226 of this volume. A total relaxation of discipline, an absence
of all order, precaution, and presence of mind, and a contemptible
disregard of everything and of everybody but self, in the hour of
common danger, filled up the full measure of horrors poured out upon
the guilty crew of the Medusa. She struck on a sand-bank under
circumstances which admitted of the hope of saving all on board. The
shore was at no great distance, and the weather was not so boisterous
as to threaten the speedy destruction of the ship when the accident
first happened.
There were six boats of different dimensions available to take off a
portion of the passengers and crew: there was time and there was
opportunity for the construction of a raft to receive the remainder.
But the scene of confusion began among officers and men at the crisis,
when an ordinary exercise of forethought and composure would have been
the preservation of all. Every man was left to shift for himself, and
every man did shift for himself, in that selfish or bewildered manner
which increased the general disaster. The captain was not among the
last, but among the first to scramble into a boat; and the boats
pushed off from the sides of the frigate, before they had taken in as
many as each was capable of holding. Reproaches, recrimination, and
scuffling took the place of order and of the word of command, both in
the ship and in the boats, when tranquillity and order were
indispensable for the common safety.
When the raft had received the miserable remnant, one hundred and
fifty in number, for whom the boats had no room, or would make no
room, it was found, when it was too late to correct the evil, that
this last refuge of a despairing and disorderly multitude had been put
together with so little care and skill, and was so ill provided with
necessaries, that the planking was insecure; there was not space
enough for protection from the waves, and charts, instruments, spars,
sails, and stores were all deficient. A few casks of wine and some
biscuits, enough for a single meal only, were all the provision made
for their sustenance. The rush and scramble from the wreck had been
accomplished with so little attention to discipline, that the raft had
not a single naval officer to take charge of her. At first, the boats
took the raft in tow, but in a short time, though the sea was calm and
the coast was known to be within fifteen leagues, the boats cast off
the tow-lines: and in not one of the six was there a sufficient sense
of duty, or of humanity left, to induce the crew to remain by the
floating planks--the forlorn hope of one hundred and fifty of their
comrades and fellow-countrymen! Nay, it is related by the narrators of
the wreck of the Medusa, that the atrocious cry resounded from one
boat to another, '_Nous les abandonnons_!'--'we leave them to their
fate,'--until one by one all the tow-lines were cast off. During the
long interval of seventeen days, the raft struggled with the waves. A
small pocket compass was the only guide of the unhappy men, who lost
even this in one of the reckless quarrels, which ensued every hour
for a better place on the raft or a morsel of biscuit. On the first
night twelve men were jammed between the timbers, and died under the
agonies of crushed and mangled limbs. On the second night more were
drowned, and some were smothered by the pressure towards the centre of
the raft. Common suffering, instead of softening, hardened the hearts
of the survivors against each other. Some of them drank wine till they
were in a frenzy of intoxication, and attempted to cut the ropes which
kept the raft together. A general fight ensued, many were killed, and
many were cast into the sea during the struggle; and thus perished
from sixty to sixty-five. On the third day portions of the bodies of
the dead were devoured by some of the survivors. On the fourth night
another quarrel and another fight, with more bloodshed, broke out. On
the fifth morning, thirty only out of the one hundred and fifty were
alive. Two of these were flung to the waves for stealing wine: a boy
died, and twenty-seven remained, not to comfort and to assist each
other, but to hold a council of destruction, and to determine who
should be victims for the preservation of the rest. At this hideous
council twelve were pronounced too weak to outlive much more
suffering, and that they might not needlessly consume any part of the
remaining stock of provisions, such as it was, (flying fish mixed with
human flesh.) these twelve helpless wretches were deliberately thrown
into the sea. The _fifteen_, who thus provided for their own safety by
the sacrifice of their weaker comrades, were rescued on the
seventeenth day after the wreck by a brig, sent out in quest of the
wreck of the Medusa by the six boats, which reached the shore in
safety, and which might have been the means of saving all on the raft,
had not the crews been totally lost to every sentiment of generosity
and humanity, when they cast off the tow-lines.
In fact, from the very first of the calamity which befel the Medusa,
discipline, presence of mind, and every generous feeling, were at an
end: and the abandonment of the ship and of the raft, the terrible
loss of Life, the cannibalism, the cruelty, the sufferings, and all
the disgraceful and inhuman proceedings, which have branded the modern
Medusa with a name of infamy worse than that of the Gorgon,--the
monster after which she was called,--originated in the want of that
order and prompt obedience, which the pages of this volume are
intended to record, to the honour of British seamen.
In the history of no less than forty shipwrecks narrated in this
memorial of naval heroism,--of passive heroism, the most difficult to
be exercised of all sorts of heroism,--there are very few instances of
misconduct, and none resembling that on board the Medusa.
This contrast is marked and stated, not in an invidious spirit towards
the French, but because there is no example on record, which furnishes
such a comparison between the safety which depends on cool and orderly
behaviour in the season of peril, and the terrible catastrophe which
is hastened and aggravated by want of firmness, and confusion.
'It is impossible,' said a writer in the _Quarterly Review_, of
October, 1817, 'not to be struck with the extraordinary difference of
conduct in the officers and crew of the Medusa and the Alceste,
wrecked nearly about the same time. In the one case, all the people
were kept together in a perfect state of discipline and subordination,
and brought safely home from the opposite side of the globe; in the
other, every one seems to have been left to shift for himself, and the
greater part perished in the horrible way we have seen.'[1]
I have brought the comparison between the two wrecks again under
notice to show, that as certainly as discipline and good order tend to
insure safety on perilous occasions, so, inevitably, do confusion and
want of discipline lead to destruction. In the one case, intrepidity
and obedience prompted expedients and resources: in the other case,
consternation was followed by despair, and despair aggravated the
catastrophe with tenfold horrors.
It is not to be concealed, that occasional instances of
insubordination and pusillanimity have occurred in the British navy.
Some such appear in this narrative, and they invariably have produced
their own punishment, by leading always to disaster, and often to
death; and they serve as beacons to point out the fatal consequences
of misconduct, under circumstances either of drunkenness,
disobedience, panic, selfishness, or confusion.
The selfish cowardice, noticed in page 94, on the part of the men in
charge of the jolly-boat of the Athenienne, and of some of the crew of
the launch of the Boreas, (see p. 136,) and the tumult, intoxication,
and desertion of the majority of the crew of the Penelope, which were
followed by the prolonged sufferings and painful deaths of the
culprits, (see pp. 200-204,) are but a few dark spots in the
shipwrecks of the Royal Navy, to set off by contrast the many bright
pages, which describe innumerable traits of character that do honour
to human nature.
As a direction to some of these noble traits, every one of which will
make the reader warm to the name of a British sailor: and, if he be
one himself, will bring the blood from his heart to his face in a glow
of emulation and honest pride,--I ask him to turn for examples of
perfect discipline to pages 13, 23, 63, 70, 71, 75, 110, 173, 188,
194, 216, 223, 229, 231, 268, 269, 278, 279, 280. Here he will behold
the portraits of men on the brink of destruction, steady, 'as if they
were moving from one ship to another in any of the Queen's ports,' and
unmoved by images of death under the most appalling forms; and he will
say, 'Lo! these are triumphs of order and subordination, and examples
of such resolute defiance of the terrors of the last enemy, when
covered with the shadow of death, that no exploits in battle can
exhibit fortitude that will compare with them.'
For instances of generous thought for others, of self-devotion and of
disregard of personal safety, I refer the reader to pages 58, 59, 67,
68, 69, 96, 128, 129, 169, 186, 190, 194, 231, 234, 269, 270.
In the long list of heroes, which these references to examples of
indomitable courage and unhesitating self-devotion will unfold, it is
almost wrong to mark out one more than another for observation, and
yet the following stand so prominently forward in the front rank of
heroism, that it is impossible to refrain from noticing them. Captain
Lydiard sacrificed his life in his desperate endeavour to rescue a boy
from the wreck of the Anson, (pp. 128, 129.) Captain Temple, of the
Crescent, and more than two hundred of his crew, displayed a noble
disregard of themselves, when they permitted the jolly-boat, their own
last hope of escape, to take off as many as it would hold, and leave
them to perish. There was no rushing, no struggling, to get away from
the sinking ship, but with orderly care they helped the boat to push
off, bade her God speed, and calmly waited their fate, (p. 153.) The
resolution of Captain Bertram, of the Persian, to brave the danger of
taking some men off a raft into his over-crowded gig, was generously
followed by the crews of the other boats, who threw their clothing and
provisions overboard to make room for the additional weight, (p. 191.)
I may refer also to the magnanimous contest between Captain Baker, of
the Drake, and his officers and men, each insisting on being the last
to make his way from the ship to a rock (p. 231), and which ended in
Captain Baker refusing to stir until he had seen every man clear of
the wreck. A second struggle for precedency in glorious self-devotion
took place, when the same commander declared, that all his crew should
pass from the rock to the mainland, by help of a line, before he
himself would consult his own safety, (p. 234.) The rope broke, and
the last means of communication between the rock and the shore was
severed, while the captain of the Drake and three of his companions
were waiting their turn to escape. They met their fate with intrepid
composure, (p. 235.) Lieutenant Smith, of the Magpie, offered another
memorable example, when his schooner was upset in a squall, and he
took to his boat with seven men. The boat capsized, and while the
struggling crew were endeavouring to right her, they were attacked by
sharks. The lieutenant himself had both his legs bitten off; but when
his body was convulsed with agony, his mind retained and exercised all
its energies, and his last words were expressive of dying
consideration for others. 'Tell the admiral, if you survive,' said he,
to a lad named Wilson, 'that my men have done their duty, and that no
blame is attached to them. I have but one favour to ask, and that is,
that he will promote Meldrum to be a gunner,' (p. 270.) And richly did
Meldrum deserve the distinction. When all in the boat had perished but
himself and another, a brig hove in sight, but did not seem to notice
the speck on the ocean. Meldrum sprang overboard, and swam towards the
ship, and was thus the means of saving his companion's life as well as
his own.
In a volume like this, 'the dangers of the seas' come before the
reader in such rapid succession, that he has scarcely time to think of
the many other awful perils and sufferings, besides those of wind and
storm, which put the mariner's fortitude to the test. The narratives
in pages 2, 3, 9, 36, 69, 70, 113, 115, present to view the horrors of
a ship on fire.
In pages 12, 169, 171, 196, 226, 242, we learn something of the
terrible consequences of being exposed to fogs and mist, ice and snow.
In page 27, we have a vivid picture of a combination of these terrors;
and in pages 217, 268, the most appalling of all the dangers a sailor
has to encounter is brought in view.
We will hope that the rigours and perils of the blockade system, which
occasioned so fearful a loss of life at different periods of the late
war, but especially in the disastrous year 1811, are at end for ever.
From page 154 to 159, and from 168 to 186, the accounts of the loss of
life in the Baltic and North Seas alone occur in fearful succession;
and the magnanimity with which hundreds, nay, thousands of our bravest
officers and men met death on that most perilous of all services, has
rendered the names of British blockading ships memorable in the annals
of hardship, hardihood, and suffering. Many invaluable lives perished
from the inclemency of the weather; men were frozen to death at their
posts. It is recorded of one devoted officer, Lieutenant Topping, that
rushing on deck in anxiety for his ship, without giving himself time
to put on his clothes, 'in fifteen minutes he fell upon the deck a
corpse, stricken by the piercing blast and driving snow,' (p. 169.)
In page 174, we read of the bodies of the dead, victims to the cold
and tempest, piled up by the survivors in rows one above another, on
the deck of the St. George, to serve as a shelter against the violence
of the waves and weather. 'In the fourth row lay the bodies of the
Admiral and his friend Captain Guion;' and out of a crew of 750, seven
only were saved.
The Defence, the consort of the St. George, was cast away in the same
storm: out of her complement of 600, six was the small remnant of
survivors. This ship might probably have escaped, but her gallant
captain (Atkins) said, 'I will never desert my admiral in the hour of
danger and distress,' (p. 175.)
An instance of obedience and discipline, worthy of particular mention,
occurred before the St. George went down. A few men asked leave to
attempt to reach the shore in the yawl. Permission was at first
granted, but afterwards withdrawn, and the men returned to their posts
without a murmur. 'As if Providence had rewarded their implicit
obedience and reliance upon their officers,' says the narrative (p.
173), 'two of these men were of the few (seven) that were saved.'
The question now arises, to what are we to attribute the extraordinary
display of cool determination manifested by British seamen, in such
trials of nerve as are described in the following pages? The series of
shipwrecks extends from 1793 to 1847, a period of fifty-four years;
and tragic scenes are described, many of them far exceeding the
imaginary terrors of fiction, and all of them equal in horror to
anything that the Drama, Romance, or Poetry has attempted to
delineate.
We rise from the perusal with scarcely any other impression upon our
minds than that of wonder and admiration, at the extraordinary
self-command exercised when death was staring every man in the face.
Doubtless there are some instances of misbehaviour, and of lack of
firmness: it could not be otherwise. 'When the stormy wind ariseth,
and they are carried up to the heaven and down again to the deep,
their soul melteth because of their trouble. They reel to and fro, and
stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end.' But such
examples are so few in the British navy, that we have little on this
score wherewith to reproach our seamen.
To what, then, are we to attribute the manly bearing of British
seamen, when the planks of their ship tremble under their feet, and
the waves are yawning to swallow them up!
First.--To the early training which almost all our youth receive, in
one way or other. It begins at school. The first principles of
generosity, as of obedience and order, are taught in our schools:
whether in the national and parochial schools, or at Westminster,
Eton, and Harrow, and other schools of a higher order, where in his
very games the boy learns to exercise presence of mind, daring, and
self-command. In our streets and play-grounds, where the humblest or
the proudest are at their sports, the germ of the manly spirit is
discernible in emulous contention as to who shall bear and forbear,
remain at his post, give and take, with most patience and good-humour.
Foreigners have allowed that there is nothing like an English school
to discipline a lad for the high places, or rough places, of
after-life; and that our mixed schools of every grade are the
seminaries, where one learns to lead, and another to follow, in the
path of honour and duty.
Secondly.--To the habit which prevails so universally in this country,
of giving place to those to whom deference is due, and of looking up
to those, who are above us in station, with ungrudging respect and
confidence. This goes with the man into all the walks of life. Some
attribute it to the aristocratic feeling, which is said to be stronger
in England than elsewhere: but it maybe more justly traced to that
good sense, which is at work in all orders of our people, and which
understands when to obey and to hearken. In the seaman it displays
itself in a predisposition to regard his officer as one worthy of his
confidence, and whom it is his safety as well as duty to obey in the
hour of danger. And this confidence is justified by the almost
unfailing manner, in which the officer shows himself deserving of the
trust reposed in him, and takes the lead in the very front of danger,
and exhibits in moments of doubt and difficulty all the resources of a
cool and collected mind, at the very juncture when life and death
depend upon his composure.
The leadership to which a British tar is accustomed, and which ever
responds to his own confiding spirit, is one of the primary causes of
his endurance and daring. His officer is the first to advance, the
foremost to encounter, the last to hesitate, and the most willing to
take more than his share of danger and of suffering; and this inspires
the men with an emulation to do likewise.
Conduct such as that displayed by the captains and officers of the
Queen Charlotte (pp. 37 and 41), of the Hindostan (p. 71), of the
Athenienne (p. 96), of the Anson (p. 128), of the Dædalus (p. 189),
could not fail of producing a sort of instinctive effect upon a ship's
crew. Under the command of officers who never flinch from their duty,
who share their last biscuit with the lowest cabin-boy, and who will
not move from the vessel when it is sinking under them, until every
other man has taken his seat in the boat, or planted his foot on the
raft that is to carry him from the wreck, where can be the quailing
heart or the unready hand?
Thirdly.--The blockading service has had much to do in training our
seamen for passive heroism and enduring fortitude. During the long war
with France, it was a service wherein all those qualities were called
into action, which are of most value in sudden emergencies. Vigilance,
promptitude, patience, and endurance, were tried to the utmost in the
course of those wintry months, and tempestuous seasons, when single
ships, squadrons, and fleets were cruising off the enemy's coast, and
every man on board was perpetually exposed to something that put his
temper or his nerves to the test. Then was the time to learn when to
keep a sharp look-out, to be on the alert in handling the gear of a
vessel, to respond to the word of command at the instant, to do things
at the right point of time, to hold life at a moment's purchase, and
to stare death in the face without flinching. It was a hard and
rigorous school; but if proficiency in readiness and fortitude was to
be attained anywhere, it was in the blockading service, and there the
heart of oak was tried, and the seaman was trained for the exercise of
that discipline, of which this Record of Naval Shipwrecks presents so
complete a picture.
But we will hope that the principal cause, to which we may ascribe the
good conduct of our sailors in the trying hour, when there seems to be
a span only between life and death, is the religious feeling which
they bring with them to their ship from their homes, whether from the
cabin on the sea-shore, or the cottage on the hill-side. The scene
described in page 115, and the anecdote of the poor boy, in whose hand
was found an open Bible when his corpse was cast on shore, show the
power of religious feeling in the soul of the sailor. It may be a very
imperfect feeling, but the sailor has it; and even in its
imperfection it has a strong hold on his mind. From the first outbreak
of the Revolution; the French sailor entered the service of his
country as a volunteer or a conscript, embued with infidel notions: or
to say the least, with the religious indifference which had become so
common in France. Not so the English sailor. He was not one of the
fools to say in his heart. 'There is no God!' It is not easy to define
the nature of that awe which fills the mind of a religions mariner;
but most certainly those 'who see the works of the Lord and his
wonders in the deep,' face danger more steadily, under the solemn
belief that there is a ruling power to control the waters, and to say
to the winds, 'Peace! be still.' They are predisposed to 'cry unto the
Lord in their trouble,' and to implore Him to 'make the storm a calm,
so that the waves thereof may be still:' and this fear of God, which
is before their eyes, has its influence in making them willing to
adopt every expedient proposed to them by their officers for their
common safety. Under this higher impulse, the spirit of obedience
works in them more confidingly; and humbled before the Supreme Power,
they are prepared to yield submission to every intellect superior to
their own. Now if there be a feeling of this kind already at work for
good in the minds of our seamen, it is of the utmost importance to
strengthen it,[2] to give it a sure direction, and to make it run in
a deeper and a broader channel, by all the appliances of instruction
and education.
To the credit of the official Boards, under whose administrative
authority provision is made for the religious and educational
improvement of men and boys in the Navy, very much has been done
lately to secure this great object. Within my own memory few seamen
could read, still fewer could write, but now the majority of them can
do both, and they respond largely to the instruction they receive, by
their intelligence and good conduct. There is no more imposing sight
than that of the crew of a man-of-war, when assembled for divine
service; and if the chaplain be a clergyman, who applies himself
zealously to his duties, he has a congregation before him, who show by
their attentive looks, that they are under the power of religious
impressions. Almost all ships commanded by post-captains have
chaplains and naval instructors, and where there is no chaplain, the
commanding officer is expected to read prayers on Sundays. In port
the crews of the Queen's ships have the opportunity of observing the
sacred day, either on board the flag-ship, the ordinary, or in the
dockyard chapel. I believe every ship in the navy is provided with a
library; and first, second, third, fourth, and fifth-rates have
schoolmasters. To men and boys desirous of entering the service, the
preference is given to those who can read and write; and an admirable
regulation has lately been adopted, which will contribute further to
advance our navy in the intellectual scale. Boys are entered as naval
apprentices, to the number of one hundred each, at Devonport,
Portsmouth, Sheerness, and Cork. They remain for one year on board the
flag-ship, under a systematic course of education, and are then
drafted into sea-going ships. The happy effects produced by mental
cultivation were felt in an especial degree, when the Discovery ships,
under Captain, now Sir Edward Parry, were blocked up with ice, and had
to pass so many dismal days and nights in the Polar Sea. A school was
established both in the Hecla and Fury, under able superintendence;
and men, whose time would have hung heavily during their icy
imprisonment, were kept in good humour and cheerfulness by the
intellectual occupations in which they were engaged. Captain Parry's
remarks in attestation of the moral effect produced by this means, and
on the uninterrupted good order which prevailed among his men, are
cited in page 243 of this work.
It would add greatly to the intellectual and spiritual improvement of
our seamen, if a Chaplain-general were appointed to take the oversight
of the religious instruction, and an _Examiner_ to direct the secular
instruction, of the Navy. The former should exercise authority
similar to that of an archdeacon, and the functions of the latter
should resemble those of her Majesty's Inspectors of Schools. The
impulse given to parochial education by the latter is beyond all
calculation; and the difference of ecclesiastical discipline in a
diocese, where there are active archdeacons and where there are not,
is a matter of well ascertained fact.
The duties of a chaplain-general[3] should be to visit the naval
posts, and to go on board the Queen's ships, (especially before they
are despatched on foreign service,) for the purpose of reporting and
advising. He should look out for and recommend competent
chaplains,--consult with admirals and captains on the best mode of
securing the regular performance of the sacred offices,--make inquiry
into the state of the ship-libraries, keep them well supplied with
religious books and tracts, and direct observation generally to the
spiritual wants of ships and ports. He would thus be of infinite use
in making religion an object of more and more thoughtfulness to those,
who take an interest in the comfort and good conduct of the Navy: two
things which always go together.
If an Inspector of all the naval schools and schoolmasters were
appointed (Professor Mosely has now the inspection of the Dockyard
Schools,) he should consider it to be part of his office to look to
the libraries, and to recommend elementary books. His periodical
examinations would be likely to stir up the same spirit of emulation
on board ship, which has been the result in our towns and villages,
where the schools are visited by persons appointed by the Committee of
Privy Council on Education. I am satisfied with throwing out these
suggestions without dwelling further upon them, under the persuasion
that every practical hint of the kind will be well considered, and
acted upon (if it commend itself to their judgment,) by those who
preside over naval affairs, and who have at heart the mental
improvement of our seamen.
I have another suggestion to make, which is meant not for those only,
who are officially interested in the condition of the navy, but for
all who love and value it. The merchant service, the fisheries, and
the coasting trade are the nurseries of the navy. Every shipmate and
every boatman on the sea and on the river ought, therefore, to come in
for a share of our sympathy, because he belongs to a class to which
the Queen's ships must look for a supply of men. But none are exposed
to more trials than they, and especially in the larger ports. Many of
them come home from a voyage of danger and deprivation, full of
excitement, and become victims of plunder and temptation; and the man
who last week was impressed, by the perils of the tempest, with the
terrors of the Lord, and was inclined to fear God and to serve him, is
waylaid by unfeeling wretches, who first entice him into scenes of
profligacy and blasphemy, and then cast him off, robbed of his money,
seared in his conscience, and in a miserable condition of soul and
body. Many benevolent efforts have been made to protect and fortify
some of those who are thus beset, and to reclaim such as are not
utterly lost; and associations have been formed for the purpose of
affording temporary relief and instruction to seamen, who might
otherwise become outcasts, and perish in want and ignorance. I allude
to such institutions as the 'Sailor's Home,' or 'Destitute Sailor's
Asylum,' in London, for the reception of seamen who have squandered or
have been despoiled of their earnings after their return from a
foreign voyage, or who are disabled for employment by illness, age, or
accident. There is also. 'The Floating Chapel,' opened to invite and
enable mariners to avail themselves of the opportunity of attending
Divine service, (under the Thames Church Missionary Society,) which
moves from one thickly populated sailors' locality to another. The
establishment of a district church and minister in a large sea-port
parish, like that of St. Mary's, Devonport, to relieve the necessities
of a district crowded with mariners, and rife with all the snares and
temptations which entrap a sailor, and endanger his bodily and
spiritual safety, is another undertaking worthy of notice.
Institutions like these must depend principally on public and
voluntary support. There is much need for them in all our principal
sea-ports; for who require them more than the men who are perpetually
exposed to the double shipwreck of body and soul? The members of these
and similar institutions are instrumental in preserving some from
ruin--in restoring others to character and employment, to usefulness,
to self-estimation, and to religious feeling; and in making both our
merchant and naval service an example to the world of subordination
and patient endurance.
The promoters of these institutions are not satisfied with providing a
remedy for the evil which exists, but they do much to prevent the ills
of irreligion and immorality, by supplying seamen with instructive and
devotional books, and by employing agents to go among them and to tell
them where the offices of religion are performed. The countenance
which admirals and captains, prelates and lords of the Admiralty, have
given to them, are the best warrant for their necessity and
usefulness. A short notice of 'The Swan' and its Tender, will not be
thought out of place in this volume.
'The Swan' is a large cutter of about 140 tons. On her bows she bears
an inscription which describes her as 'The Thames Church.' She conveys
a clergyman and a floating sanctuary from one pool in the river to
another, to carry the Word of God to those who do not seek for it
themselves. Hers is a missionary voyage. She is freighted with Bibles
and Testaments and Prayer-books, and religious tracts. She runs
alongside colliers, outward-bound vessels, and emigrant ships
especially, that the services, the consolation, and the instruction of
the Church may be offered as a parting gift to those, who are taking a
last leave of their native shores, and are saying farewell to weeping
friends and kindred.
There is also a Tender, called 'The Little Thames Church,' which sails
lower down the river, as occasion may require, fraught on the same
holy errand. One extract from the last Report of the 'Thames Church
Mission Society,' which is patronized by the Archbishop of Canterbury
and the Bishops of London and Winchester, will suffice to explain the
nature of her mission.
'Sunday, February 24, Long Reach. Morning service. The congregation
was 128 seamen. Afternoon, Bible class, 62. Evening service,
132,--total 322. One of the captains observed that there was a great
change for the better, which he was rejoiced to see: 'For,' said he,
'about four years ago I attended a service, and found that I was the
only sailor that had come from the fleet; but this morning so crowded
was the church, that I had some difficulty in getting a seat.''
It is by means such as these, which as a Christian nation we are bound
to provide, that we might hope, not only to keep alive, but to improve
the noble spirit which distinguishes the British Navy.
The discipline which now prevails would be established on the highest
principle of obedience and action. The endurance, which now bears
suffering with fortitude, would learn to submit to severer trials
under the sanction of a higher teaching, and patience would have her
perfect work. The courage and steadiness of a brave crew would receive
an accession of energy from the hope that is set before them. The
allegiance, which they owe to their Sovereign, would be strengthened
by a sense of the more sacred duty which they owe to Him, by whom
kings reign and rulers govern: and committing themselves habitually to
the protection of Providence, they would face deprivation, fatigue,
and danger with unshaken composure.--with a hand for any toil, and a
heart for any fate.