also the signal for a general chase which ended in the capture of the
corvette L’Éclair. Saw the enemy’s fleet at anchor in the inner and
outer roads. When sent in to reconnoitre, they would allow us to come as
near as we liked; but the moment the ship was put about their forts
would blaze away with red-hot shot; and we in the Berwick had nearly got
into an awkward situation, which I shall speak of hereafter. In July
while cruising off Toulon the fleet encountered a tremendous gale, and
the old Berwick, who always bore the name of a bad sea boat, proved it
on this occasion with a vengeance. First the bowsprit went, about two
feet before the outer gammoning; bore up, and got the runners and
tackles forward to secure the foremast. At daylight made the signal of
distress, and parted company from the fleet. The rigging being new, it
became so slack that we were obliged to set it up, with a very heavy sea
running, which was done in a seaman-like manner; but mark what follows.
After the lower rigging was set up, and while before the wind, the main
sail, of all sails in the world, was set, and the ship hove to slap at
once, by which she was nearly thrown on her beams ends. The main yard
went in the slings, the main topmast and half the main top carried away,
the fore mast sprung in two places, and the mizen mast in three; of the
main-top men of one watch, seventeen in number, one was killed, another
drowned, and several of the others severely hurt, but by falling on the
splinter netting were fortunately saved. The wreck of the main yard had
nearly knocked two ports into one on the main deck, while that of the
main topmast got under the counter, damaged the copper, and had almost
unshipped the rudder before it could be cleared, which was done with
great difficulty. It is a fact that the ship rolled sixteen or eighteen
feet of her fore yard in the water,[85] and laboured so dreadfully that
on our arrival in port the oakum was found to have worked so much out of
the seams, particularly under the counter, that it was astonishing we
succeeded in reaching Gibraltar. I must also mention that the force of
the wind was so great that it burst the lashings[86] of the jolly boat
lying on the booms, and blew the boat away like a feather. So much for
the Gulf of Lyons. I do not mean to throw blame on any one, but I cannot
help thinking that the ship was somehow or other badly handled, to say
nothing of her being a bad sea boat; and if she had not been as strong
as wood and iron could make her, must certainly have paid a visit to
Davy Jones’ locker.
We remained at Gibraltar several weeks in the New Mole, and enjoyed
ourselves by going up to the old Porter house on Scud Hill[87] of an
evening, and sometimes to the Junk Ships and the Swan; and then cruise
about the town, which is not deficient in places of amusement. It was
here I first observed the march of intellect; a fellow, whose name was
Anthony Strico and kept a wine house, had over his door in large
letters,
Tono Strico
Wino Houso.[88]
After the ship was refitted we proceeded to join the fleet at Toulon
which had surrendered to Lord Hood during our absence. While off Minorca
we were taken in a thundering squall that had almost done for the old
Berwick a second time. Next day, fell in with a Spanish frigate
dismasted; gave her some assistance which she seemed to want, as they
appeared to be deficient in nautical knowledge, or, in other words, the
vilest set of lubbers that ever were seen. They positively did not know
how to get a jury mast up. On our arrival at Toulon we found Lord Hood
with the British fleet and Don Langara with the Spanish; also some
Neapolitan men of war. Landed our soldiers, which were part of the 69th
regiment of foot doing duty as marines. Plenty of fighting going on in
every direction, the Princess Royal and some other ships keeping up a
constant fire against the enemy’s lines to prevent them throwing up
batteries. We had some pleasant trips in our launch in carrying a load
of eighteen and thirty-two pound shot to supply the Princess Royal while
she was engaging, the shot from the enemy flying more than half a mile
beyond us. Fortunately we escaped without injury. One of the lower-deck
guns on board the Princess Royal or St. George—I forget which—burst and
killed nine men and wounded twenty-seven.[89] We remained but a short
time at Toulon, and then sailed to join Commodore Linzee at Tunis.
We had a delightful passage running along the Italian shore with a fine
view of Elba, Gorgona, Pianoza, Monte Christo, Capraja, etc.
For here the muse so oft her harp has strung,
That not a mountain rears its head unsung.—_Addison._
Stood over for Sardinia and put into Cagliari, the capital, where we
found Commodore Linzee and squadron.
_October 22, 1793._—Went on shore and dined in company with the
Sardinian admiral and several great men of the island, who were very
intelligent and gave us an account of the attack made by the French
squadron, who were beaten off with loss (according to their account) of
5,000 men.[90] Visited the city, which has a university, and went to
some of the convents to purchase articles from the nuns. Found the
friars a set of jolly fellows who behaved to us with great civility, not
only in this place but in every other port in the Mediterranean that we
put into.
_October 25._—Sailed from Cagliari in quest of some French frigates, but
had not the good fortune to fall in with them. During the cruise before
we put into Cagliari and joined the commodore, we fell in with six sail
of the line who, not answering the private signal, were taken for a
French squadron. It being late in the evening we made all sail and stood
from them; they gave chase the whole of the night, but only two could
come up with us, and they took good care not to come alongside, and well
for them they did not; all our guns were loaded with round and
double-headed shot, and our 68-pounders on the forecastle were crammed
with grape and canister, and our fellows (two thirds of them Irish) were
determined to give them a lesson that would never be forgotten. This
they seemed to anticipate, as they kept hankering on the quarter until
morning, when they hoisted Spanish colours; one of them sent a boat on
board of us.
The officer seemed astonished when he saw our men at quarters, their
black silk handkerchiefs[91] tied round their heads, their shirt sleeves
tucked up, the crows and handspikes in their hands, and the boarders all
ready with their cutlasses and tomahawks, that he told Sir John Collins
they put him in mind of so many devils.
After the cruise we put into Tunis, and found lying there the Duquesne,
French 74; and higher up in the bay, near the Goletta, her convoy,
consisting of fifty sail of merchantmen with valuable cargoes; also the
Spanish squadron mentioned above. Commodore Linzee with the following
men of war anchored close to the Frenchman, and the Agamemnon near their
convoy:—
Alcide 74 Commodore Linzee; Captain Woodley
Berwick 74 Captain Sir John Collins
Illustrious 74 Captain T. L. Frederick
Agamemnon 64 Captain Horatio Nelson
Lowestoft 32 Captain Cunningham[92]
Nemesis 28 Captain Lord Amelius Beauclerk
I must here mention that the Yankee-doodle[93] James in his _Naval
History_ takes no notice of this expedition, which is to be wondered at
as the ‘Sea Serpent’ was never backward in finding fault, and here he
missed a good opportunity. The Agamemnon and Lowestoft were sent, as I
have stated, to watch the convoy, and the three seventy-fours anchored
one abreast, another on the bow, and one on the quarter of the Duquesne,
ready to bring her to action, and six sail of the line (Spanish) to
assist in this great undertaking; but all this mighty preparation came
to nothing. The cargoes were safely landed from the convoy; and the
Duquesne, after laughing at us for several weeks and singing the
Marseilles hymn morning and evening, with the English jack spread over
her round house, got under way, and arrived safe at Toulon, which had
been evacuated by the fleet and army; and all this because Tunis was a
neutral port. Now everybody knew that before the squadron sailed, and
also that Tunis was nothing less than a nest of thieves; besides, we
were out of gunshot of their forts and might have taken the whole with
the greatest ease imaginable.
We had a rugged-headed, squint-eyed boatswain’s mate, who early one
morning passed the word for all those who were quartered on the main
deck to come below and fight the lower-deck guns. He was instantly
obeyed, and the people of their own accord were absolutely going to
bring the French 74 to action, and the above boatswain’s mate as the
head of the party was in the act of setting the example, when the second
lieutenant snatched the match out of his hand just as he was going to
fire. Lord Nelson, who commanded the Agamemnon, happened to come on
board soon after, and when this was told him he seemed quite pleased:
‘For then,’ says he, ‘we must have taken them.’ If he had commanded, we
certainly should have taken them,[94] and not have stayed wasting our
time for months in the bay doing nothing.
Our squadron used to water near the Goletta, a small channel leading to
the ancient harbour of Carthage, fortified on each side and a chain
across. On the left of this channel they have a gun with marble shot of
immense size; the diameter of the bore twenty two inches and a half. On
the other side are a few wells dug in the sand, from which the squadron
got their water. On one occasion I went in the launch to fill our casks,
a messmate of mine (the present Captain Valobra) taking a trip with me;
having given directions about filling, I proposed to cross the Goletta
(which has a drawbridge over it) and take a look at the large fort they
have close by. On getting into the interior, which is a square, we saw a
door open and went into what appeared a guard room, from the number of
arms tastefully arranged about the walls, and several Turks rolled up in
blankets lying on the floor. Having examined the place we were going
away, when one of the Turks, as I approached the door, caught hold of me
by the collar and pushed me back. I did not relish this and tried to
make the blackguard understand, but all to no purpose. However, I again
made a movement to get out, when a young Turk, with a short stick that
had something round like a ball fixed to the end of it, made a blow at
my head which would certainly have done for me had I not stepped back in
time. We had left our side arms in the launch and had nothing to defend
ourselves against this ruffian. One of the Turks we heard say
‘Spagniolle!’ upon which Valobra called out ‘Angleise!’ Whether this had
the effect to liberate us I know not; but an old withered Turk came up,
and after a deal of altercation with the fellow who struck at me, he
pointed to the door and showed us the way out, and glad enough we were
of it. Having filled our casks we returned on board (the rascally Turks
pelting us with stones as long as we were in reach), and made a
complaint to Sir John Collins, who went on shore the next day to
represent the business to the commandant of the fort, and this vagabond
had the impudence to say we might think ourselves well off that we were
not sent up the country and made slaves. Went with Lieutenant Shirley to
see the ruins of Carthage.... Saw several remains of antiquity, broken
columns, underground passages, pieces of frieze, and the remarkable
arches supposed to be the stables of the elephants. I went into a room
like a cellar and got a piece of the flooring, of beautiful green and
white marble, which I brought home; but some thief in England stole it
from me—the devil do him good with it. The ground about the ruins was
covered with reptiles of almost every description, which made it
dangerous to explore. I carried a piece of frieze several miles
intending to bring it home also, but was obliged to leave it from
fatigue. As Lieutenant Shirley, who was very tired, sat on a broken
column, I observed it might have been the same that Caius Marius rested
on when in exile and from which he made this memorable reply (to show
the instability of human greatness) to him that was sent by the governor
to warn him off: ‘Go,’ says he, ‘and say that thou hast seen Caius
Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage.’
A short time before we left Tunis the bey sent a present to the
squadron, of bullocks, butter, poultry, scented candles and some otto of
roses. We in the cockpit had some butter, poultry, and a scented candle
or two; as for the otto of roses we could smell it near the wardroom,
but not a drop could we see in the cockpit. However, we were more
regaled with the scent of a seapie, made in a pitch kettle that
contained, besides other delicacies, upwards of thirty fowls. We sat
round the cauldron in the cockpit, like the witches in ‘Macbeth,’ and
would not have exchanged this glorious mess for all the otto of roses
belonging to the bey or his ministers. At the same time, the devil thank
some people for their kindness in not paying the compliment; they might
have sent us one small bottle to counteract the bilge water; but never
mind; they, poor souls, are all dead; and most of us are alive
notwithstanding. As for the butter, it was only fit to grease the
topmasts, and for that purpose we resigned it. We had a few of the
candles, made of beeswax and scented.
The bullocks were very small, and here I must relate a droll
circumstance. Our purser’s steward was one that dearly loved grog, and
it so happened that on the day the bullocks were slaughtered, he got
beastly drunk. Some of the midshipmen seeing him in that situation in
the first watch, lying near the steward room, agreed to sew him up in
one of the bullocks’ hides, which was accordingly done. The horns being
on, were fixed to a nicety on his head and fastened under the chin, firm
as a rock. A little before twelve he came to himself and got up (for his
legs and arms were free) and tried to get into the steward room, but the
key was secured. He then began to bellow, just as the quartermaster came
down to call the watch, and was knocking his horns against the bulk
head, his tail near the cockpit ladder. The quartermaster, holding up
his lantern, looked at him for some time in amazement; at last, letting
it fall, he took to his heels, swearing that the devil was in the
cockpit; while those who slept abaft on the lower deck jumped out of
their hammocks and followed his example. ’Twas a most laughable sight;
particularly so when the officer of the watch came down to see what was
the matter and, evidently under the influence of fear, did not venture
down the cockpit ladder until one of the midshipmen came up and said it
was Colquhoun, the steward, transformed into a bullock. It had a good
effect on the steward, as he was afraid ever after to bouse his jib up;
and whenever he put his head up the cockpit ladder, those on the lower
deck would sing out, ‘What’s become of your horns?’
Left Tunis for Porto Farino to get a supply of water for the fleet. The
plague had made great ravages before our arrival, but had in some
measure abated. This place is a Turkish arsenal, and several of their
men of war were fitting out. A number of Neapolitan slaves were at work
in the different storehouses; some of them could speak English, and gave
us an interesting account of the conduct of their masters. I saw an old
Turk, upwards of seventy, with a long stick in his hand thrashing
several of the poor wretches. I could not refrain from telling him he
was a damned old scoundrel; whether he understood or not, I cannot say,
but he called out repeatedly, ‘Esau, Esau’; and Lieutenant Shirley
bawling in his ear, ‘Will you have Isaac and Jacob also?’
Porto Farino is situated near the mouth of the Bagrada,[95] where
Attilius Regulus, the Roman consul, lay encamped in the first Punic war,
when the serpent attacked and destroyed several of his soldiers who came
to the river to obtain water.... The ancient city of Utica, famous for
the death of Cato in the civil war, was at no great distance from this
port.
A short time before we sailed the Turkish governor paid a visit to the
ship, with his retinue, among whom was the Turkish admiral—a fine
looking fellow near seven feet high. We saluted the governor with eleven
guns, and he minutely inspected every part of the ship and seemed highly
delighted with the bread room, and also with the 68-pounders we had on
the forecastle. One of his attendants spoke English, and said he was in
England at the time the Foudroyant was captured by the Monmouth,[96] and
that he lived at Wapping. We suspected he was an Englishman although he
said his name was Mustapha.
Sailed from this port to cruise off the Island of Pantalaria. You that
are fond of romance are aware that in this island the famous captain of
banditti met his death; all Italy speaks of him, from the Apennines to
the Straits of Messina, and the shepherds of the Sicilian vales sing the
praises of the valoroso Capitano Rinaldini. But they did not (in this
island) sing the praises of little Tommy Yates, our purser, who went on
shore to purchase some articles, and put the whole island under
quarantine when they found out we had just left the Turkish port; and if
Tommy had gone on shore the second time he probably would have left his
bones there.
We encountered off this island the heaviest gale I ever was in;
particularly a squall that lasted from seven bells in the middle watch
until two bells in the morning watch. The storm staysails were blown
from the bolt rope, and the ship during this prodigious gust lay with
her main deck guns in the water. The sea was one white sheet, and during
the whole course of my servitude I never witnessed anything equal to it;
and many who had been in the hurricane of 1780 in the West Indies,
declared that this squall was equally terrible. After the cruise we put
into Trapani, the ancient Drepanum. It was here Aeneas landed, according
to Virgil, when the fight with the gauntlet took place between Dares and
Entellus, and it was also famous for that between Hercules and Eryx, in
which the latter was killed. It was a noted place in the first Punic war
for military events, as that of the defeat of the Roman fleet under the
Consul Claudius Pulcher, wherein (according to Valerius Maximus) the
Romans lost 90 galleys, 8,000 men killed or drowned, and 20,000 taken
prisoners by the Carthaginians without the loss of a man or a single
galley on their side.[97]
I must here relate an anecdote which will show how careful people ought
to be when joking with those whom they think don’t understand their
language. The day after we arrived at Trapani, near thirty Sicilian
clergymen came on board to see the ship, and while on the quarter deck
making their observations, Palmer, our fourth lieutenant, in a
frolicsome mood, went up to one of them and, while bowing and scraping,
said, ‘Pray, sir, were you ever knocked down with a fathom of ——?’ when,
to Palmer’s horror and amazement, the other answered in good English,
‘Never in my life, sir,’ and then addressed his companions, who cast
their eyes upon Palmer and began to laugh at his expense. This he could
not stand, and in going down the quarter deck ladder declared he would
sooner face the devil than a Trapani parson.
The islands Maretimo, Levanzo, and Faviguano are near this place; in the
last-mentioned island the Turkish prisoners are sent as slaves. We saw
several of them at work in the moat, one of them a man of prodigious
stature. These islands were the ancient Ægades, where Lutatius Catulus,
the Roman consul, defeated the Carthaginian fleet and put an end to the
first Punic War.[97]
Before we left Trapani we went to see a church, or rather cemetery,
where several rows of dead bodies were placed in niches one over the
other. They were naked, some standing up and others lying at full
length, and presenting an appearance truly horrible; we understood they
belonged to a particular order. While lying here, a mutiny took place
among the ship’s company, in consequence of some bullocks that were
anything but fat being sent for the use of the people. Now John Bull,
having more regard for fat and lean, swore he’d be damned if he’d have
anything to do with skin and bone. A survey was then held and the report
stated that as no other meat could be obtained, double allowance of this
lean kine should be served out to make up the deficiency; but all to no
purpose; and John Bull, forgetting his duty and only thinking of his
maw, broke out into open rebellion. Some of the scoundrels were put in
irons, but were immediately released by the others and the irons thrown
overboard. They then assembled on the lower deck, got the hammocks down,
and a breastwork made in the bay, with the two foremost guns pointed
aft. The officers at last prevailed on them to return to their duty,
and, Sir John Collins being an easy man, no examples were made. Sailed
for Leghorn, where we arrived in Carnival time. We were not long at an
anchor before the ship was surrounded by boats with musicians playing
fine Italian airs and women singing most delightfully.
Several men of war were in the roads; among which was the Aquilon, 32,
with Prince Augustus Frederick (now Duke of Sussex) on his travels. Got
leave with some difficulty to go on shore with two messmates, Graves and
Valobra; saw the brazen men so much spoken of, consisting of the father
and three sons (Turks) in bronze chained to the four corners of a
pedestal, with a marble statue of a Tuscan prince on the top. Visited
the Jews’ synagogue, which was well worth seeing, being a magnificent
temple; also the churches, opera house and many other places, with fine
paintings and statuary, and had glorious fun at the Carnival, where we
met our little purser, Tommy Yates, with a mask and a black domino on,
cutting such capers that Heraclitus would have wiped away his tears had
he seen him, and joined in the laugh. He was a wet little soul and
generous to a degree, and everyone respected him.
Early next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast, we set off for Pisa,
about fourteen or fifteen miles from Leghorn, in one of the gilt coaches
with horses that, had they seen the devil would not have taken fright.
We were three hours going the distance and had full time to observe the
beautiful prospect along the Vale of Arno. About ten we entered Pisa,
where they were celebrating the Carnival in a magnificent style, and we
were told that six hundred coaches were in the procession. The prince
was among the number and appeared much gratified. Pelting with sugar
plums is customary on this occasion; and one of our midshipmen pelted
Lord Hervey in his coach; and when told it was the British ambassador,
and that he looked very angry, he immediately hove another volley at
Lady Hervey, observing that she looked better tempered than his
Excellency.
We spent a very pleasant evening at the theatre, and next morning went
to the cathedral—a gorgeous fabric, with gates of bronze highly
decorated with passages from scripture in compartments in _basso
relievo_. We also saw the baptistery with a whispering gallery, and the
_campo santo_, with the paintings on the wall in _fresco_ round the
cloisters, the work of the oldest masters. One painting I well
recollect, representing the Last Judgment—the work I believe of
Buffalmaco, who in this painting drew all his friends going to heaven,
and his enemies going to the devil; the faces of all being an exact
resemblance of those of both parties. The tombs of some of the masters
are at the foot of their works.[98] The _campo santo_ is an oblong
figure, and the earth in the centre was brought from the Holy Land some
centuries ago, and people of religious celebrity are here interred.
We next visited the Observatory and Botanical Gardens, and then to the
top of the Leaning Tower, 187 feet high, and whose summit overlooks the
base fifteen feet. One of our party began ringing the bells, which
brought up a posse of friars; and Graves, pointing to one of them, a
very fat man, exclaimed, ‘I’ll be damned if that fellow is not fitted
for foreign service with six months’ provisions in his guts.’ I suppose
they did not understand him, as they behaved with great civility. Some
in this country, who I could mention, would have behaved in a different
manner. There’s an old saying
That Pisa looks ill
If you sit still.
This was not the case with us, as we were constantly on the move and saw
everything and enjoyed ourselves greatly, particularly among the masks
while parading the Lung’ Arno. The day before our departure we took a
long and delightful walk upon the banks of the Arno and were within a
few miles of the spot where Catiline and his whole army were destroyed
63 B.C., in the consulship of Marcus Tullius Cicero and Caius Antonius
Nepos.