Every Man Will Do His Duty Read online

  In passing the Namur, the flag ship, at the Great Nore I received nine seamen for a passage to Yarmouth. In the evening, a fog coming on, I was obliged to anchor. The next day, Sunday, I read the Articles of War to the crew. I then acquainted them that, in so small a vessel, every precaution was necessary to prevent surprise; in consequence whereof the brig’s company were never to quit the deck all together, but one watch was to be constantly on deck, and to be armed. That regulation was instantly put in force, and a number of others, the details of which I shall not dwell upon, were adopted. But I gave the crew to understand that I did not mean to be captured without a sharp defence, and every soul on board was to practice, as often as circumstances would allow, the broadsword exercise. The Marines I ordered up, inspected all their muskets, and saw them put into order fit for use. They had scarcely reported them as such when a vessel was seen nearing us. She was instantly hailed, but as the answer was not satisfactory a volley of musketry was discharged at her by the Marines of the watch—a very lucky warning, as, if the stranger had not been alarmed, he would probably have run on board of us in the fog. The vessel was an English fishing craft, and the chief received a jobation from me for not keeping a better look out. That act of mine proved to my crew that I was in earnest.

  On the following afternoon the fog cleared and, the wind being fair, the brig was soon under way with studdingsails set. The crew were exercised at the guns. At dinner time one watch remained on deck till relieved by the other, having had theirs. At nightfall I was again obliged to anchor with a fog, but the next morning a fresh breeze sent it off, and by daylight we were making the best of our way towards Yarmouth. At night Lowestoft lights were seen. Shortly afterwards a lugger closed upon us. A shot was instantly fired at her, and repeated till she brought to. I sent a boat to board her. She was from Rochester bound to Yarmouth. On the afternoon of the 26th we anchored in Yarmouth Roads.

  I lost no time in presenting my respects to the admiral, B. Douglas. His son, who was still at Verdun, had written to him about me, and I was most courteously received. The supernumeraries were sent to the Amelia, and by 10 o’clock the next day the Childers was under sail, bound to Leith. At night the weather had a threatening appearance, and as we were now more out to sea I issued night orders. The officer of the watch was astonished that I did not hand the square mainsail. He came to me to request that I would do so. It had, he said, always been done before. “Then,” said I, “that custom will be changed. Should a gale of wind come on, you may furl it, but not before. If we can’t fight we must be prepared to make sail.” That order, and others, were very different from those they had been used to act under. One of the most unpleasant duties of a captain is to train the crew of a vessel which has been disciplined by another commander. If his regulations differ from what they have previously been used to, it occasions unpleasant occurrences, murmurs, and sometimes even mutiny. In this case, however, luckily for me, every one became aware that my orders were based upon good principles, not upon whims, and the officers and crew soon began to understand my ways.

  I was anxious to be acquainted with the qualities of the Childers. The little experience I had of her led me to believe that she was over-masted, as she appeared to sail better, and be more easy, under reduced canvas. I made many enquiries relating to her guns being thrown overboard, and concluded that it was all through bad management. She was lying to in a gale of wind, with the helm lashed alee. That old system, by which many of our ships had been injured by getting sternway, I thought had been abandoned. But it was not so in the Childers, for it was while she had sternway that the sea came in and nearly swamped her. Therefore, to prevent her going down, away went the guns. If I recollect rightly, those which had just been shipped were of a lighter calibre than those thrown away, and no doubt the brig had not so much stability on the water as formerly. Turning the officers’ statements to account, I sent for all of them and pointed out the evil consequences of lashing the helm to leeward, and forbad its being done again. I next had the seamen and quarter masters aft, explaining to them that, in future, the brig was to be constantly kept under command of the helm—that is, to have headway. I threatened the steersmen with punishment if it ever came to my knowledge that the helm was lashed to leeward. I ordered a card to be stuck on the binnacle with written instructions on it directing the helm to be kept amidships during stormy weather. This plan, on being followed out, proved that I was right: for, instead of laying the vessel to in a gale of wind, I kept her under the storm staysails, always forging ahead and under control of the helm. The change for the better became evident to all on board. The Gunner,20 who had been nine years in the brig, and who had charge of a watch at sea, was the first to notice the improvement in the ease of her motions. There was no sudden jerking, but the vessel yielded gradually to the pressure of the wind and, with the assistance of the storm staysails, went slowly through the water, to the astonishment of all the seamen who wondered that no other officer had thought of such a system before. The gunner, who proved to be a thorough good seaman, repeated over and again his regrets that this plan had not been put in practice sooner, as it would have prevented many a sail being blown away and eased the wear of the hull. All my orders, I now observed, were attended to with alacrity: it was evident the crew had confidence in their captain.

  When the officers knew I had been so long detained at Verdun, they inquired if Mr. Temple was an acquaintance. When they heard my reports of that gentleman’s proceedings, they were astonished, as they had formed the highest opinion of him. They had received him on board as a passenger when in the Baltic. He had, after his escape from France, visited Russia and, luckily finding his way on board the Childers, came to England in her. He had by his lively disposition and other attractive qualities completely captivated their good feelings towards him. However, I requested them not to bring his name again under my notice.

  We were 13 days getting to Leith, during which we encountered a great deal of stormy weather. It had been my object to keep near the land, expecting by so doing to make better progress. I was right in my judgment, but the unruly pilots lost by night what I had gained by day. So soon as they knew that I was in bed, they would shape the brig’s course out into the middle of the ocean. Consequently we encountered tremendously high seas: the vessel laboured woefully and shipped immense quantities of water, the leeside being constantly submerged. All this rolling about woke me, and, inquiring of the officer of the watch, I was informed that the pilot had stood away from the land. Ï finally put a stop to these whims. One night I went on deck to see what was going on. The vessel was rolling to an alarming extent. I was suddenly jerked from one side to the other, and fell on the cap of one of the carronade screws. The pilot who witnessed this accident, a stout lusty fellow, never came to my assistance: nor did anyone till I called out for help. I thought one of my ribs was broken, as the pain was intense. I could not keep my body upright for a long while afterwards. The crew were seized with colds and coughs: in short, the whole of us were laid up by the mismanagement of the pilots. The master was a young officer, and only acting. I therefore found myself obliged to interfere and take upon myself a responsibility not usual in such cases. The pilots kept out to sea at nights because they felt no uneasiness when at a distance from the land. But when it was near they were fidgety. The consequence of all this was that the rigging became so slack from the labouring of the vessel that I was obliged to run into Berwick Bay to set it up. Putting to sea the next day, we found the foretopmast sprung, and I had to shift it for a sound one. Finding my arguments had no effect on these obstinate pilots, I assumed the charge myself, and gave written orders at night for the management of the brig. We soon benefited by the change. By keeping at a moderate distance from the shore we had smoother water, and gained ground rapidly. On our way we boarded only two vessels—English ones—nothing like an enemy being seen.

  On the 9th of February we anchored in Leith Roads. Never in my life did I feel greater relief from
anxiety, as every soul on board was a martyr to coughs, hoarseness and alarming colds, so severe had been the weather. When I reported my arrival to Ad. Vashon,21 who held the naval command, and represented to him the state of the Childers’ crew, he expressed a very proper feeling in their behalf. It was not only their case which required consideration, but also my own: I was completely knocked up. He assured me that time would be given for rest, etc., and that he should not think of ordering the vessel to sea till the crew had recovered from their fatigues. He also expressed his astonishment at such a useless vessel being kept in the Service. So far I had reason to be satisfied, as I now knew for certain that I should have time to fit out my brig; and I hoped to make all on board comfortable, as far as circumstances would allow. Our arrival made the fourth brig of war stationed here to cruize against the enemy. The admiral had his flag on board the Texel, a 64. There was a sort of depot at Leith for naval stores, but nothing in the shape of a dock yard.

  Having now time to look about me, my first object was to make my cabin more comfortable. There was only room for the half of a round table in it, which was placed against the fore bulkhead. This arrangement would only admit of three, but I was determined somehow or other to find space for four. There was a stove against the after bulkhead, which I could not well do without in the winter: but it was much in the way. At last I contrived to cut away the bulkhead, making a grove to receive it. By that means I gained nearly 24 inches in length, which enabled me to fit up a small round table, with four chairs conveniently placed. I could now invite a friend or two to dine with me. I had to set all my wits to work to turn to the best account a cabin scarcely deserving the name of one. The officers were astonished at my perseverance and ingenuity in overcoming obstacles that no other captain had hitherto attempted. The other brigs on the station could easily have hoisted mine in, so much superior were they in size and dimensions. They were armed with 16 32 lb. carronades and two long nines, with a crew of 120 men. The names of their commanders were G. Andrews,22 F. Baugh23 and my old shipmate of the Alcide, Sanders.24 My again meeting him was a rencontre for which I was not prepared. However, on our acquaintance being renewed, he conducted himself very properly, and a friendly intercourse was established. The four of us formed a mess at the principal inn, on the pier of Leith. There was a naval club which met occasionally in Edinburgh, which I attended once or twice. I there made the acquaintance of several naval officers of distinction, among the number Capt. George Hope,25 who at that time was Captain of the North Sea fleet under Ad. Sir James Saumarez, and who afterwards, when a Lord of the Admiralty, became a useful friend. As the crew were recovering from their complaints, I employed them in making such improvements as I thought necessary: but the more I examined the contents of the vessel under my command, the more I had reason to despond. The stores were in a most neglected state, and, after weighing all these defects in my mind, I thought it my duty to lay the case before the admiral. He gave strong symptoms of displeasure at having such a vessel under his flag. He ordered the master of the Texel to take a survey of the brig’s condition. That officer in the performance of his duty gave the strongest signs of dissatisfaction—even of disgust—at all he saw, and he did not hesitate to declare that he thought the Childers unfit for sea service. He accordingly made his report to the admiral verbally, upon which I was directed to apply for a survey of the vessel’s capabilities. I was not prepared for such a proceeding, but as the commander in chief seemed determined that something of the kind should be done, there appeared to me no backing out of the position in which I unexpectedly found myself. I thought the requesting of a survey of a vessel to which I had just been appointed might offend the Admiralty. Consequently, in my official letter, which, in the first instance was addressed to the admiral, I began by saying, “Acting under your directions, I have to report the defective state of the sloop under my command.” Admiral Vashon noticed its commencement, and appeared inclined to disapprove of the sentence: but, without allowing me time to make my reply, he said, “Very well. I don’t mind. I shall send it.” I was considerably annoyed. The brig, everybody knew, was a worn-out craft, but I should have taken my chance in her. When I thought it my duty to represent her inefficient condition, I had not contemplated the consequences. I thought the admiral would order a supply of better stores, and direct the other defects to be made good on the spot. But when the case took the turn mentioned, I felt myself justified in placing the principal responsibility on the admiral. He was an odd-tempered man, and a stranger to me; and I felt embarrassed in my early dealings with him. However, I thought it prudent to write to Lord Gambier and explain all that had passed between the admiral and self.

  Whilst employed in improving my cabin I could get no assistance from the naval depot. I was consequently obliged to buy plank and other things. The first lieutenant of the flag ship, Mr. Peake,26 had been my shipmate in the Alcide. When he heard that I had been buying the articles mentioned, he hastened to the naval yard, and in strong terms pointed out to the authorities there the impropriety of making an officer in my situation purchase deal boards for his cabin. His representation produced its effect, and one of the clerks from the office came and requested me to send my bill to him. He also made a sort of apology for what had happened. I could not help reminding him that my application for a supply of the articles had been refused. I shall here state that I was obliged to buy log lines, as there were none in store, and the admiral carried his ideas of economy to such a pitch that he would not allow any to be purchased. Therefore the brig’s speed through the water was reckoned at my expense.

  It took three days to convey a letter from Leith to London. On the seventh day an order arrived from the Admiralty, directing that the Childers should be examined, whether sound or not. In the meantime all my traps had arrived from London, and I had the means of making my preparations. The admiral did not invite us often to his house. His son27 commanded the flag ship. Mrs. Vashon appeared an amiable person, but as there was not much sociability I was left a great deal to my own resources. Capt. Sanders resided at a different inn from mine, but he came to us to dine. He had nicknamed my brig “the Half-Moon Battery,” and was not backward in passing severe strictures upon her inefficiency, as the brig that he commanded—the Bellette—was one of the most powerful in our Navy. At one of our mess dinners he proposed that the whole of us should share prize money together: but nothing was decided. The Childers’ defective sails were sent to the Texel to be repaired, and the officers from the yard were employed in examining our timbers, but as the vessel was afloat the survey could only be partial.

  As time passed on, I invited my brother officers to come and dine with me. The tray which I depended on so much had not yet been used, but now was the time for displaying it. We were all seated in my cabin waiting the appearance of dinner, when my steward announced that the passage leading into it was so narrow that the tray could not be brought in. Here was a disappointment! The dishes were handed in separately. The casualty did not interfere much with our dinner, which proved a very sociable one, and Sanders was so anxious to see the tray that it was produced. He was so much pleased with the construction of it that he purchased it. In a few days he became my constant companion, and would not let me rest until I wrote a letter to Lord Mulgrave in his behalf, reminding his Lordship of a promise that he had made to Lord Chatham to promote him. Hitherto I knew nothing of Sanders. At times he gave himself consequential airs, wishing it to be understood that he possessed considerable influence. He assumed importance from the circumstance of his commanding so fine a vessel. However, not having much faith in this gentleman’s assertions, I demanded explanations, which proved him to be the son of a surgeon who had for many years been attached to Lord Chatham’s household. Thereat Mr. Sanders did not rise much in my estimation. His authoritative bearing, with other freaks, were not suited to his connexions. I had supposed him, by his sayings and doings, to be a member of some high aristocratic family. He was fond of the bottle, and d
uring our rambles he had frequently indulged in that failing. It fell to my lot to carry him home one night in a hack carriage, but he never refunded to me my expenses therefor, or even thanked me for my care of him. Therefore, instead of an agreeable companion, I found him a regular bore.

  The builders, having terminated their examination of the Childers’ timbers, declared them to be sound—a result no one expected. However, so it was, and I, her captain, lost no time in completing all that was required. I fitted a boarding netting to the brig, and had the boats, such as they were—a cutter and jolly boat—well repaired for cutting out work. The first orders I received were to take charge of a convoy for Gothenburg. When the merchants heard that the Childers had been appointed to perform that duty, they protested against placing their property under the care of such an inefficient vessel of war, and they remonstrated. Consequently a sloop, the Snake, with 32 lber. carronades, was ordered round from Sheerness to relieve me of my charge. This was no great compliment to my brig!

  In a short time all the provisions were on board, a few volunteers came from the Rendezvous, and I was anxious to try my fate on the briny waves. I hove up one anchor to be ready to start at a moment’s notice. The admiral had arranged that the four brigs should put to sea at the same time, and we, the commanders, agreed to have a parting dinner at the inn. Here the proposal was renewed to share prize money together. Sanders made use of some very ill-timed expressions relating to my brig, remarking that she would be taken by the smallest enemy privateer: and that, the others’ vessels being so much superior to mine, the risk was not a fair one. I retorted upon Sanders, stating that, as he had been the first to moot the question of sharing, he ought to be the last to make such out-of-the-way observations. “If I am attacked,” I said, “I shall not be so easily captured as you imagine. Therefore, to close the bargain with you, I will agree to share prize money with you for three months, or not at all. It is now for you to decide.” In conclusion no agreement was made. The party broke up, and we repaired on board our separate vessels. I had received a clerk recommended by Mrs. V., also a steward who had been employed in her establishment. When Ad. Vashon gave me my sailing instructions, he authorized me to seek shelter against stormy weather wherever I might find it convenient, and not to expose my crew to chances of sickness. I was to cruize off Gothenburg to annoy the enemy to the best of my power. Having settled everything satisfactorily, I took my leave.