Malta--Dreadful accident by the Explosion of a Magazine in the
town, on the Bermola side--Nearly get into a scrape about breaking
quarantine--Kind answer of the gallant Admiral Sir Sidney Smith
to the complaint--Rejoin the _Melpomene_--Mutiny in Fribourg’s
regiment--Cruise in the Adriatic.
On my arrival at Malta I learnt that the ship was on a cruise, and
that she had lost, a short time after I was taken, our gallant first
lieutenant, Andrew Thompson, who was killed, with most of his boat’s
crew, in boarding,--in the middle of the day, with the barge alone,--a
French armed settee, with six long nine-pounders, off Leghorn; but the
few survivors--Lieutenant Gascoigne, R.M.; Mr. W. Butler, mid; and a
noble fellow, a sergeant of marines, named Milligan, with eight seamen,
all that remained out of twenty-five men--gallantly hooked on the boat,
and carried the vessel, driving some of her crew overboard, and causing
the rest to beg for quarter.
At the prize agent’s I found my chest of clothes, which had been left
behind to be forwarded to England, it not being expected I should
rejoin the ship. This was a great and unexpected comfort. The delight
of a nice new coat, linen, &c., after my poor ragged dress was a
treat, which, fully to enjoy, a person should be placed in a similar
situation.
I was sent on board the _Madras_ (guard-ship) to wait for a passage to
join the _Melpomene_, when, in August, a dreadful accident happened.
I was awakened out of sleep about six in the morning by a tremendous
noise, and the bursting of shells. I jumped out of bed, and ran upon
deck, thinking we were in action, when a shell fell upon the wharf
to which the ship was secured, burst, and killed the gunner of the
_Madras_. An immense cloud of black smoke and dust was hovering in the
air, and cries, shrieks, and groans were heard in every direction: a
magazine in the centre of the town of Bermola, nearly opposite the
dockyard, in which many live shells had been placed by the French
during the siege in 1800, had exploded. A party of artillerymen had
been sent to take out the fuses, and by some unfortunate accident
one shell had gone off, for one or two explosions were heard before
the magazine blew up. How the event happened of course not a soul
employed was left to tell, and, in addition to a sergeant’s party of
artillerymen, nearly 300 of the inhabitants were killed or seriously
injured; part of two streets were thrown down, and many more houses
were severely shaken.
A short time after this shocking event, a transport was directed to
sail for Palermo, and a passage thither was ordered for me to look for
my ship. Outside of Malta harbour we were boarded by a boat, bringing
a lieutenant and some men from a vessel in quarantine to join their
ship also at Palermo. The wind, which had been fair, suddenly changed,
and the weather appearing unsettled, the master prudently bore up,
and returned into harbour. I thought it very hard to be placed in
quarantine, because we had taken the above officer and men out from the
lazaretto, therefore the moment the ship dropt anchor, without waiting
for the pratique boat to come alongside, I got into a shore boat, and
landed in the town of Valette.
Fortunately, as soon as I had landed, the captain of the _Madras_
met me, and instantly sent me back to the transport, saying, if the
quarantine officer found me out, I should be sent to prison. The next
morning the wind came fair, and we put to sea. Just when we had got
clear of the harbour--the pratique office having gained intelligence of
my visit to the shore--a boat was sent after the ship to take me out,
and place me in the lazaretto; but the wind freshening, we left her
astern, and proceeded on our voyage to Palermo, where I expected that
nothing more would have been thought of the matter.
From thence I went on board the _Thunderer_ (74), for a passage to
Naples, where I was taken very ill with a kind of cholera morbus, which
in a few hours reduced me very much, but a good constitution enabled me
soon to recover from its attack, although it left me very weak for some
time.
On our arrival off Naples we found cruising at the entrance of the bay
the gallant Admiral Sir Sidney Smith, who sent for me on board the
_Pompée_ (80), and said, “What is this you have been doing? You are
a very pretty fellow! This morning a brig came from Malta, bringing a
formal complaint against you from the governor for breaking quarantine,
and requesting me to send you back there to be tried; but,” added he,
in the kindest manner, “never mind, I have answered them, and told them
they, not you, were to blame, for had they done their duty you could
never have got on shore, and it was entirely owing to their neglect
that you transgressed the quarantine laws.” That answer settled the
matter, and I never heard anything more of the affair, although, after
joining the _Melpomene_, which I did in the course of a few days, the
ship was sent to Malta to refit.
I was quite delighted to get back to my old ship, and be under the
command of her dashing gallant young captain, who, had he not been
killed afterwards in America, would have now been one of the best
officers in the service. Shortly after our arrival at Malta, in
September, a most serious mutiny broke out in a foreign regiment in
our service, quartered at Fort Recazzoli, called “Fribourg’s,” or
the Greek Light Infantry. It was composed of Germans, Swiss, French,
Greeks, Istrians, Dalmations, and Albanians. Most of the officers were
Germans, and the discipline of the regiment did not suit the ideas of
these mercenaries; added to which, some of the Albanians and Dalmatians
had been most shamefully cajoled by emissaries, under false promises,
into our service. In those countries a kind of clanship prevails, and
some of the heads of those clans were told, that if they would enter,
with their followers, into this regiment, they would receive the rank
of captain. These wild chiefs, thinking it a great thing to be made
captain at once in the British service, embarked with their followers,
and came to Malta, where, instead of being placed in the situation they
expected, they were put into the ranks, and one or two of them made
a sergeant or corporal. This, with other causes, created a general
disgust, and a secret plan was formed by these wild tribes to rush
into the officers’ mess-room, while at dinner, and murder every one of
them indiscriminately. Suspecting, however, that their plan had been
discovered, they did not wait for dinner time, but about two or three
o’clock in the afternoon, rose upon the few officers that were in the
fort at the time, killed a captain, the adjutant, and quarter-master,
wounded the colonel and major, whose lives were saved by the Germans,
and hauling up the drawbridge, demanded terms, which were that the
regiment should be disbanded, and themselves sent back to their own
country.
In the fort at this time was a gallant young officer of artillery,
Lieutenant Fead, with a few of his men, one or two of whom refusing,
like good soldiers, to quit their post without orders from their own
officer, the mutineers killed them, making Lieutenant Fead prisoner,
obliging him to point the guns and mortars towards the town of La
Valette.
Fort Recazzoli is a strong isolated fortress on the left hand side of
Malta harbour as you come in from the sea, and in which was a large
magazine of gunpowder. The mutineers held out several days, and
threatened to fire upon the town of La Valette if their terms were not
immediately agreed to. One day indeed they did fire a few shells, but
Lieutenant Fead purposely gave the mortars so much elevation, that the
shells dropped quite clear of the town. Things had remained in this
state for two or three days, with all the garrison at Malta and the
seamen and marines of the few ships in harbour on the alert, boats
rowing guard, the batteries manned, and a cordon of troops drawn round
the fort; when, on the afternoon of the second day a grand tiraillade
was heard within it, the Germans and Swiss, with the few artillerymen
who had taken no part in the mutiny, and had been disarmed by the
others, watching an opportunity, made a rush, destroyed the guard at
the drawbridge, let it down, and sallied forth out of the fortress,
bringing with them one or two wounded officers and forty-five of the
principal malcontents; the remainder hauled up the drawbridge and held
out for several days, again demanding terms, and threatening to blow up
the magazine if they were not complied with.
The mutineers being now reduced to a few, early in the morning, we
stormed the place with scaling ladders, when part of the 44th Regiment
and some sailors got possession of most of the fort; but the mutineers
had not been idle, they had built up a kind of high breast-work of
large loose stones before the magazine, within which they retreated,
and kept up a brisk fire of musketry--a ball from which grazed my hat
and stuck in the wall near me. They used occasionally, from behind
this breast-work, to demand a parley and terms, always ending with
the threat of blowing up the magazine, with themselves, in which
were several hundred barrels of gunpowder. General Valette, who
commanded the garrison, very properly refused to listen to any but an
unconditional surrender--things having gone too far.
We stationed our men under the bomb proofs, it being the general
opinion of the engineer officers that when the magazine did blow up
the greatest explosion would be towards the sea, where the wall of the
magazine was weakest, and that under the bomb proof the men would be
comparatively safe; and as these desperate fellows had declared, that
if when St. John’s clock should strike the hour of nine in the evening,
their terms, free pardon and safe conduct back to their own country,
were not complied with, they would set fire to the train and blow
themselves and the fortress up, we awaited the event with much anxiety.
A strong suspicion existing that they had undermined the garrison, and
had made a passage out for themselves at the back of it, I was sent to
row guard to intercept any attempt they might make to escape by water.
At about nine, off went the train, and a most awful explosion took
place; the whole sea wall was blown to atoms, and the shock like that
of an earthquake was felt far and near, some fish in the harbour made
a spring out of the water, which showed they also were sensible of the
vibration. Three of the 44th Regiment who were posted sentinels were
killed by the falling stones, and a few more were hurt. I immediately
pulled on shore and had communication with the fort, and then went
and made my report to the senior naval officer. These desperate
wretches, at first, were considered to have perished, but, about a week
afterwards they were brought in, nearly starved to death, having been
unable to make their escape from the island. They were immediately
tried by a court martial and hanged.
To return to those forty-five mutineers dragged out of the fortress by
the sortie. They were also brought before a military tribunal; fifteen
of them were condemned to be hanged, and most of the remainder to be
shot. The execution was most terribly mismanaged: it presented, indeed,
a shocking spectacle. But I will say no more upon the subject, further
than to the last moment these poor wretches continued to vent their
abuse on the English, and the men sentenced to be hanged endeavoured to
keep up the spirits of those that were about to be shot--even when the
ropes were round their necks they called to them, saying, “What are you
crying for? It is we that ought to bewail our fate of being hanged like
dogs instead of being shot like men.”
I recollect seeing a Catholic priest very busy on the scaffold, wishing
to persuade the criminals to kiss the crucifix before they were
launched into eternity, but they kicked him off, and spat in his face,
telling him he was no better than themselves.
In November we sailed on a cruise off Corfu, and from thence up the
Adriatic, where we spent a very stormy winter, blockading Venice,
anchoring occasionally at Trieste, and under Cape Salvatore, the
islands of Lissa, Sansego, and various other places. The N.E. winds in
winter blow most furiously from the Istrian and Dalmatian mountains,
and, if caught by these winds on the Italian coast, a ship is placed in
a most critical situation; a heavy, short sea rises with the wind, and
you are obliged to carry a press of canvas to prevent being driven on a
lee shore.
A Russian squadron of seven sail of the line, besides frigates and
transports, with troops on board, arrived from Naples early in the
spring of 1807, and anchored off Trieste, the Emperor of Russia having
withdrawn his alliance from us, professing neutrality, in consequence
of the great success of the French army under Napoleon in Austria,
&c. The Russian admiral, Greig, very politely sent to Captain Pat.
Campbell, of the _Unité_, the senior officer in the Adriatic, to say
that he intended to send a ship of the line with the transports to
land the troops they had on board at Venice, we being off the port
blockading it, in company with the _Unité_. Captain P. Campbell replied
that two British frigates would never suffer one Russian seventy-four,
with her convoy, to break the blockade, and therefore requested, if
that was the admiral’s intention, he would take his whole force, which
would prevent any collision between us.
Admiral Greig very properly did so, and saw his convoy enter safely the
port of Venice.
During the nine months we cruised in this sea we took and destroyed
a great many of the enemy’s small vessels; but our prize concerns
were unfortunately entrusted to agents, who became insolvent, and
our hard-earned money was in consequence lost. I shall in the sequel
suggest a plan for the management of prize-money, in the event of our
again being engaged in war, it having fallen to my lot to lose every
penny by the breaking of four agents in different parts of the world,
into whose hands we entrusted the management of our prize affairs.
These honest people have an easy way of getting rid of money committed
to their charge. A ship brings captured vessels into harbour; on board
comes Mr. A., B., C, or D., with a smirking face and soft tongue,
making low bows, hoping he may have the honour,--being an accredited
agent under a bond for £20,000,--to transact the affairs of H.M.
ship! Officers generally being strangers in the port, and having
orders frequently to proceed to sea again in forty-eight hours, after
completing water and provisions, have no time to look after or make
inquiries about _stability_ of prize agents, and therefore trust the
concerns to the first that comes. The moment a ship is fitted out she
goes to sea on another cruise--probably for three or four months;
the prizes in the meanwhile are sold by the agent. Now, what does
he generally do with the money? Why! speculates with it on his own
account. If the scheme answers, he puts the amount of his speculation
into his own pocket--we, whose the money ought to be, never getting any
part of it. If it fails, the prize agent breaks, and off he starts,
paying perhaps not a shilling in the pound. Oh! but then you have got
his bond for £20,000! What matters this amongst a whole fleet, when he
runs away with perhaps more than £100,000 of their money!
I am not putting an extreme case--this did happen more than once--and
it would astonish the public if the whole system of prize-plundering
agents that was carried on last war could be laid open. They would,
indeed, wonder men could be so easily led to trust persons with large
sums of money without knowing more about them. My reply is, necessity
obliges them.
Now, the remedy I propose is this. Let the Government, in the event of
another war, take the prize agency into their own hands, and deduct an
eighth or a quarter to cover all expenses, and, whenever ships leave a
station, let the money be sent to England. Government would have the
use of it; the officers and ships’ companies would be sure to receive
the remainder; and it would be much better to give up an eighth or a
quarter to Government to make sure of the rest than to lose, as has
happened in many cases, every sixpence of our hard-earned reward.
But to return to our cruise. One morning watch, during the time we were
washing decks, and when the after-skylight gratings were off, a strange
sail was seen from the topmast-head. Without thinking of such things as
hatchways, back I ran from the fore part of the quarter-deck to hail
the maintop-masthead, and to ask the man looking out what she looked
like, when, just as I had placed my speaking-trumpet to my mouth, head
over heels down the after-hatchway I fell, bang into the gun-room.
Fortunately, I came off with only a severe bruise, and the spraining of
my right ankle, which laid me up for three weeks.
The vessel proved to be an enemy’s small coaster, called a “trabaculo,”
the rig of which is merely two large lug-sails, with a boom at the foot
of them, with a jib, and sometimes a stay-sail and top-sail, to be set
flying when going before the wind. She was in ballast, from Chiozza,
bound to Ancona for a cargo. On searching the prisoners for letters and
papers, we found concealed in their waistbands and linings of their
clothes seven hundred and sixty-eight gold Venetian zechins, besides
some dollars, which we took the liberty of extracting. They belonged
to a rich Venetian merchant, and he had sent the money on board, under
the charge of the master of the vessel, to purchase her cargo. On
our chasing him, seeing no means of escape, he distributed the money
amongst the men to sew in their dresses.
When we first captured him, finding the vessel without anything in her,
Captain Parker was on the eve of letting her go, when the prying eyes
of a young mid made the discovery of the concealed money, which we took
from them, and then allowed the vessel, with her crew, to return to her
own port, she not being worth the trouble of sending to Malta.
Some prizes in a gale of wind having been driven on shore near Pesaro,
on the coast of Italy, a flag of truce came off to offer an exchange
of prisoners, to which we gladly acceded. I was sent thither, with
two boats, to bring back our seamen and petty officers. The French,
seeing us coming, got the men down on the pier, to have them ready.
Several officers of that nation, who were standing there, came bowing
and scraping to the stairs of the landing-place, making a great number
of fine speeches, and offering me refreshments of all kinds, if I would
do them the honour to walk up into the town, which I gladly accepted,
hoping to rest my boats’ crews and stretch my legs for half-an-hour on
shore, after blockading their ports for six months.
Just when I was stepping out of the boat I observed they held a
consultation. Afterwards one of the officers came up to me, and said
that he was very sorry, but orders had just arrived for them on no
account to suffer me to come out of my boat. Now this was utterly
false, no one having come near them, for I kept my eye upon them the
whole time. “It was very unfortunate--they were quite in despair
about it,” holding up their hands, shrugging up their shoulders,
and making wry faces all the time; “they wished so much to show me
civility--refreshments were already laid out at their lodgings--but
what could they do?--they were so sorry--but orders must be obeyed.”
So, taking off their cocked hats, they wished me adieu. I returned the
salute, thanked them for the trouble they had taken in getting a repast
ready for me, which the authorities would not permit me to enjoy; then
off we shoved the boats, and, after a long pull, got back to the ship
with our exchanged shipmates, much amused with the French offer of
refreshments, which it was never intended I should partake of.
We continued in the Adriatic until the end of September, 1807, when
we proceeded to Trieste to embark Lord Pembroke and suite, and carry
them to England. They had come from Vienna. Amongst his lordship’s
suite were Sir William A’Court, the present Lord Heytesbury, and a Mr.
Hammond. They were all pleasant, gentlemanly men, and although bred in
Courts, where little else than cold-heartedness and deceit are learned,
they in a short time won the esteem of us unsophisticated sailors.
After a stormy passage of nearly six weeks, we anchored at Spithead,
when I found myself appointed lieutenant of H.M. Ship _Swiftsure_
(74), bearing the flag of my much-esteemed friend and admiral, Sir
John Borlase Warren, who had been appointed commander-in-chief on the
Halifax station.
After an absence from England of three years, the ship being on the
point of sailing, I could only get one day’s sight of home, when I set
off to join my new ship at Plymouth, and the end of November sailed
for the North American station to relieve Admiral Berkeley, where we
remained three years and a half.