A MIDDY’S RECOLLECTIONS
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR AS A MIDSHIPMAN IN 1856.]
A MIDDY’S
RECOLLECTIONS
1853-1860
BY
REAR-ADMIRAL THE HONOURABLE
VICTOR ALEXANDER MONTAGU
LONDON
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1898
IN MEMORY OF
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
ENTERING THE NAVY 1
CHAPTER II
THE “PRINCESS ROYAL” 9
CHAPTER III
WAR WITH RUSSIA DECLARED 26
CHAPTER IV
THE CRIMEA 35
CHAPTER V
PUNISHMENTS IN THE NAVY 64
CHAPTER VI
RUSSIA COLLAPSES 71
CHAPTER VII
LEISURE HOURS 77
CHAPTER VIII
SOME DISTINGUISHED SAILORS 86
CHAPTER IX
PLAY ON BOARD; AND SOME DUTIES 95
CHAPTER X
PIRATE-HUNTING; AND A DINNER PARTY 101
CHAPTER XI
WAR WITH CHINA DECLARED 106
CHAPTER XII
THE “RALEIGH” WRECKED 111
CHAPTER XIII
AT WAR IN CHINA 119
CHAPTER XIV
MORE PIRATE HUNTING 139
CHAPTER XV
THE INDIAN MUTINY 147
CHAPTER XVI
THE NAVAL BRIGADE AT WORK 157
CHAPTER XVII
INCIDENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN 167
CHAPTER XVIII
A TOUCH-AND-GO ENGAGEMENT 179
CHAPTER XIX
COMPLIMENTS TO THE NAVAL BRIGADE 193
CHAPTER XX
HOME AGAIN 199
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The author as a Midshipman in 1856. From an
oil painting _Frontispiece_
_Facing page_
The author as a Naval Cadet, 1853. From a
miniature 6
H.M.S. “Princess Royal,” of 91 guns, 1853 10
The signal flying for war, and Fleet cheering 26
H.M.S. “Raleigh,” 50-gun sailing frigate, wrecked
off Macao (China), the 14th April 1857 86
The battle of Fatshan, showing the sinking of
Commodore The Honourable Henry Keppel’s galley,
1st June 1857 128
H.M.S. “Pearl,” 21-gun corvette 148
The author at the present day 170
CHAPTER I
ENTERING THE NAVY
Born in April 1841, I was about six months more than twelve years
old when I joined the Royal Navy. My father was the seventh Earl
of Sandwich; my mother, a daughter of the Marquis of Anglesea, who
commanded cavalry at Waterloo, and lost his leg by one of the last
shots fired on that eventful day. It is said that when Lord Anglesea’s
thigh was struck he happened to be riding by the side of the Duke of
Wellington, and exclaimed, suddenly, “O the Devil! my leg is hit!”
The Duke turned round, looked at him, and said, “The deuce it is!”
His leg was shortly afterwards amputated. As all the surgeon’s knives
had become blunt from the long day’s work, it took twenty minutes to
perform the operation. I was the second of four sons, and was educated
by a private tutor.
For some time before I was sent to sea, my father had often expressed a
wish that, hailing from a naval family, one of his sons should select
the Sea as his profession. Somehow or another, it devolved upon me to
be the naval representative; and, though my father did not enforce this
idea, I took it into my head that I should like it. My poor mother had
misgivings. She loathed the sea, and could not bring herself to believe
that any one else could endure its hardships. She was second to none,
however, in her admiration of the Service.
No doubt I thought it a fine thing to don a naval uniform and wear a
sword at my side at twelve and a half. A position of importance was
assured. Of sea-life I knew but little. I had on several occasions,
when staying at the Castle at Cowes (enjoying the hospitality of my
grandfather, Lord Anglesea), sailed in his famous old cutter, the
_Pearl_ (130 tons); but beyond learning, when beating about the Solent,
what sea-sickness was, my experience was naught. However, on the 15th
of December 1853, I was gazetted a naval cadet in the Queen’s Navy.
It was deemed advisable to send me to a school where boys were prepared
for examination before joining the Navy. When it is remembered that
one’s qualification consisted only in being able to master simple
dictation from some English work, and arithmetic as far as the Rule
of Three, this will seem incompatible with modern ideas. So it was,
however; and I found myself, some time in October 1853, at the school
of Mr. Eastman, a retired naval instructor who kept a house of about
thirty boys in St. George’s Square, Portsea. This mansion I visited not
long ago, and found it a tavern of the first quality.
If my memory serves me rightly, we did not indulge in much study at
that school. We used to walk out to Southsea Common in twos and twos
to play games, and, if opportunity offered, to have rows with what we
called “the cads,” the youth of the town: a pastime which the usher
encouraged.
It was a very rough school. The food was execrable; many of us were
cooped up in the same room; and I have a vivid remembrance of the
foot-pan which we were allowed to use only once a week. On birthdays,
or other select occasions, the chosen few were regaled with very large
junks of bread sparsely besmeared with butter, and tea in the parlour,
about 4.30 P.M.; our host and hostess being at that time well into
their second glass of toddy, and drowsy though attempting to amuse us
with old sea stories.
Sometimes we were taken to the Dockyard. I well remember being much
interested in watching a Russian frigate then in dock refitting, and
wondering to myself why Russians looked so different from men of
my own race, and why their ships carried such a curious scent. This
reminds me that often in after years, when returning to my ship on a
dark night and not being exactly sure of her position, I have been
guided by the peculiar smell which you notice in passing under the
stern of a foreign man-of-war. The perfume of each navy is distinct;
and the position of a ship, which I recollected from the daytime, was
often the means of putting me on my right course during a night’s pull.
I do not remember anything particularly worth recording during my
six-weeks’ stay at that school. Only, on one occasion, about midnight,
we were all aroused by the noise caused by the smashing of glass.
Running out in our night-shirts into the street, we discovered that all
the front plate-glass windows were broken. The master, in his fury,
thought that open mutiny had broken out in school, and vowed vengeance
on every bone in our bodies. It turned out that Mr. Eastman had been
cramming some mates for their examination towards Lieutenancies,
and that, as they had all signally failed, they had expressed their
displeasure by breaking the windows. No clue was obtained at the time;
but I happened to hear all about the affair when I joined my first
ship. Three of the culprits were serving in that vessel, and told me
the story.
Shortly after this, the time arrived when I was to present myself
at the Royal Naval College to pass my examination. The nervous and
sleepless nights! Though I felt perfectly capable of passing through
the ordeal, the name of the Royal College overawed me. The thought
of naval dons sitting in conclave over my work, with the possibility
of their finding it defective, was as an evil dream. When the day
arrived, two short hours sufficed to get me through. My arithmetic was
faultless; and, though I spelt _judgment_ without a _d_, my papers were
said to be very good. In short, I had passed thus far with _éclat_.
Having qualified in mind, I found that the next performance was to
qualify in body. Forthwith I was taken on board that glorious and
venerable ship, the _Victory_, to be medically inspected. It was
my first visit to this renowned ship; and how well I remember the
thoughts that ran through my mind as I approached her! There was the
hull exactly as it had been on the day of Trafalgar! I could not help
picturing to myself those noble sides being pierced through and through
with shot while the vessel was leading the line gallantly into action
past the broadsides of the enemy.
Once on board, I was accosted by a rough Irish assistant-surgeon,
who, without a word of warning or of good-morning, ejaculated, “What
is your name? How old are you?” On my having meekly answered these
questions to his apparent satisfaction, he said, in the gruffest of
tones, “Strip, sir.” Having decency, I quietly asked, in the humblest
of tones, “Do you wish me, sir, to pull off my trousers as well?” “Yes,
sir,--everything,” was the answer. This was a trial. I was miserable
about my braces’ buttons, afraid he would see that two were lacking
(one in front and one behind); which might tell against my claim to
respectability. How curious is it to find oneself remembering such
details through life! Having denuded myself of everything,--which was
very trying, particularly in a draughty cabin in December--I was put
through various exercises; and, after being minutely examined as to
wind, sight, hearing, and other gifts, I was told to dress and take
away with me a formal certificate of health. I hated that man, and was
glad to get back to school in order to prepare to leave for home on the
following day.
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR AS A NAVAL CADET, 1853.
_Swan Electric Engraving Co_]
Within a week from this time, I received my first official document. It
ran:--
You are hereby directed to repair on board H.M. ship _Princess
Royal_, now laying at Spithead, and report yourself on December the
15th. Should the _Princess Royal_ not be laying at Spithead on the
date mentioned, you will inquire at the Admiral’s office at the
Dockyard, and you will be informed where H.M. ship may be.
This notice gave me a clear fortnight more at home. I had to get my
outfit ready, and to pack up my sea-chest. My father had the sea-chest
made by the house-carpenter, instead of relying on the outfitter who
invariably supplied the necessary article according to regulation size.
No doubt my father conceived the idea with the best possible intentions
as to economy; but the chest was always an eyesore, and eventually
it was cut down to proper dimensions by order of a very particular
commanding officer, who could not stand seeing one chest an inch higher
than the rest in the long row on the cockpit deck.
War with Russia was at this time expected. Writing so many years later,
I can only attempt to describe, from memory, all I then thought, and
the pride I felt that I should possibly see active service soon. There
was an innate dread of leave-taking--of parting from home for the first
time--more especially of separating myself from my mother, a lady
beloved by all her children. That was a thought scarce bearable. Many
who read those lines will realise too well how sad such moments are:
perhaps the saddest that fall to one’s lot. Yet, painful as they are,
they have their consolation: as showing the love between mother and
son. The more this sentiment is impressed on the youthful mind, the
greater the gain in after life; for when the mother is not present,
there comes the echo of sweet counsel ringing in the heart, inspiring
the wish to act as she would desire--she, the help and guidance in all
trouble.