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PUBLICATIONS

OF THE

NAVY RECORDS SOCIETY

Vol. XXXI.

RECOLLECTIONS

OF

James Anthony Gardner

RECOLLECTIONS
OF
James Anthony Gardner
COMMANDER R.N.
(1775–1814)

EDITED BY

SIR R. VESEY HAMILTON, G.C.B.

ADMIRAL

AND

JOHN KNOX LAUGHTON, M.A., D.Litt.

HON. FELLOW OF CAIUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN KING’S COLLEGE, LONDON

PRINTED FOR THE NAVY RECORDS SOCIETY

MDCCCCVI

THE COUNCIL

OF THE

NAVY RECORDS SOCIETY

1906–1907

PATRON

H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES, K.G., K.T., K.P.

PRESIDENT

EARL SPENCER, K.G.

VICE-PRESIDENTS

Bridge, Admiral Sir Cyprian A. G., G.C.B.

Desart, The Earl of, K.C.B.

Firth, Professor C. H., LL.D.

Yorke, Sir Henry, K.C.B.

COUNCILLORS

Atkinson, C. T.

Clarke, Col. Sir George S., K.C.M.G.

Corbett, Julian S.

Custance, Vice-Admiral Sir Reginald N., K.C.M.G.

Dartmouth, The Earl of.

Drury, Vice-Admiral Sir Charles C., K.C.S.I.

Field, Captain A. M., R.N., F.R.S.

Ginsburg, B. W., LL.D.

Godley, Sir Arthur, K.C.B.

Gordon, The Hon. George.

Gray, Albert, K.C.

Liverpool, The Earl of.

Loraine, Rear-Admiral Sir Lambton, Bart.

Lyall, Sir Alfred C., G.C.I.E.

Markham, Admiral Sir Albert H., K.C.B.

Newbolt, Henry.

Prothero, G. W., Litt.D., LL.D.

Seymour, Admiral of the Fleet Sir Edward H., G.C.B.

Slade, Captain Edmond J. W., R.N., M.V.O.

Tarleton, Lieutenant A. H., R.N., M.V.O.

Thursfield, J. R.

Watts, Sir Philip, D.Sc., K.C.B., F.R.S.

White, Commander J. Bell, R.N.R.

White, Sir William H., K.C.B., F.R.S.

SECRETARY

Professor J. K. Laughton, D.Litt., King’s College, London, W.C.

TREASURER

W. Graham Greene, C.B., Admiralty, S.W.

The Council of the Navy Records Society wish it to be distinctly understood that they are not answerable for any opinions or observations that may appear in the Society’s publications. For these the responsibility rests entirely with the Editors of the several works.

INTRODUCTION

In many respects the present volume differs from the most of those which have been issued by the Society; there is in it very little history, as commonly understood. The author, it is true, lived in a stirring time, and was himself an actor in some of the incidents which have shed a glory on our naval records; but his account of these is meagre and of little importance. The interest which attaches to his ‘Recollections’ is entirely personal and social; we have in them sketches roughly drawn, crude, inartistic, and perhaps on that account the more valuable, of the life of the time; of the men who were his companions in the berth, or the gunroom or the wardroom; on deck, in sport or in earnest.

In all this, there is perhaps little that we did not know before in an otiose sort of way. We knew that the men of the time were often coarse in speech, rude in action; but it may be that the reality, as portrayed by Commander Gardner, exceeds anything that we had imagined. It seems to carry us back to the days of Roderick Random, and to suggest that there had been but small improvement since Smollett wrote his celebrated description. A closer examination will correct this impression; will convince us that there had, on the contrary, been a good deal of improvement; that the life was less hard, the manners less rude; and if the language does not show very much difference, it has to be considered that Smollett was writing for the public and Gardner was not; that Smollett’s dialogues are more or less literary, and Gardner’s are, for the most part, in the vernacular.

Occasionally, indeed, the language has been modified, or its undue strength merely indicated by a ——; but where oaths and expletives formed such a large part of the conversational currency between intimates; when ‘son of a bitch’ was the usual equivalent of the modern ‘chappie’ or ‘Johnnie’ or ‘rotter’; when ‘damned’ was everywhere recognised as a most ordinary intensitive, and ‘damn your eyes’ meant simply ‘buck up,’ it has been felt that entirely to bowdlerise the narrative would be to present our readers with a very imperfect picture of the life of the day.

Independent of the language, the most striking feature of the portraits is the universal drunkenness. It is mentioned as a thing too common to be considered a fault, though—if carried to excess—an amiable weakness, which no decent commanding officer would take serious notice of. Looking down the lists of old shipmates and messmates, the eye is necessarily caught by the frequency of such entries as ‘too fond of grog,’ ‘did not dislike grog,’ ‘passionately fond of grog,’ ‘a drunken Hun,’ a term of reprobation as a bully, rather than as a drunkard, ‘fond of gin grog,’ ‘mad from drink,’ ‘insane from drink,’ and so on, passim. For the officer of the watch to be drunk scarcely called for comment; it was only when, in addition to being drunk, he turned the captain out at midnight to save the ship, that he narrowly escaped being brought to a court martial; ‘but we interceded for him, and the business was looked over’ (p. [217]).

It is, of course, familiarly known that during the later years of the eighteenth century, such drunkenness was almost more common on shore than afloat; and when more than half the peerage and the most distinguished statesmen were ‘habitual drunkards,’ there was, from the social point of view, some excuse for the many of Gardner’s messmates. For good or ill, the navy has always been very conservative in its customs; and at a much later date, when hard drinking was going out of fashion on shore, except among very young men, it still continued prevalent in the navy. Some of our older officers will remember at least one instance in which a great public scandal was averted only in consideration of the social connections of the principal offender; and courts martial, bringing ruin and disgrace to the individual, long continued to be painfully frequent. Absolute reform in this direction was slow; but there are few things more remarkable than the change which has come over the service during the last quarter of a century.

But in the eighteenth century this hard drinking brought in its train not only the terribly frequent insanity, such as is recorded in so many of Gardner’s pages; not only the gross lapses, some of which Gardner has indicated, but also numerous irregularities, which we may suspect where we do not know’, and of which, quarrels and free fights in the wardroom or in the steerage—such, for instance, as brought on the series of Phaëton courts martial (pp. [73]–4)—were only one type. Coarse practical joking among men no longer young was another characteristic of the life which seems subversive of true discipline. Here, of course, we are met by the great change which has everywhere taken place; and the horse-play of Billy Culmer and his friends—stupid vulgarity as it now appears—can scarcely be considered more childish than the pranks and hoaxes of Theodore Hook or Grantley Berkeley twenty or thirty years later. But the very serious objection to such practices on board ship was that—as is now common knowledge—the most inveterate practical joker is the most annoyed when the tables are turned and he himself is made the victim of the joke; that quarrels are certain to arise, which, in a small society and among armed men, are both dangerous in themselves and detrimental to the service. It is, too, difficult to draw the line between practical joking, ragging, or ‘hazing’ and actual bullying. There is no doubt that they merge into each other, and, in the present state of public opinion, could not possibly be tolerated.

Gardner himself, so far as we can judge from his own story, was a good, capable man, who took the life around him as quite a matter of course, without falling into its worst characteristics. He seems, too, to have been a man of singularly equable temper; and it is worthy of special notice that, amid much to annoy and irritate him, he has preferred to say what is good, rather than what is bad, of his messmates and superiors. It used to be so very much the custom to speak evil of dignities, that it is quite refreshing to meet with a young officer to whom his captain did not necessarily seem a bullying, tyrannical blockhead; who could see that the senior might have a proper motive and have formed a correct judgment, even though he did thwart the junior’s wishes or act contrary to the junior’s opinion. Gardner had, for instance, no particular cause to love Calder, but he could still speak of him as ‘a brave and meritorious officer, and of first-rate abilities, a man that had the service at heart’ (pp. [101], [107]). Leveson Gower he did not like—no subordinate did; but, though he relates several incidents, which of themselves are sufficiently damning, he does not seem to have set down aught in malice, nor has he made any spiteful commentary. His worst remark is ‘I have said enough of him’ (p. [90]).

First lieutenants were, of course, the natural enemies of a youngster; but with few exceptions his comments, even on them, are good-humoured. Of one only does he speak bitterly; it is Edward Hamilton (p. [172]), whose celebrated recapture of the Hermione might induce us to suspect that Gardner was merely expressing the spleen roused by the loss of his kit, did we not remember that, at this time, Hamilton was only 23, and that he was but 30 when his active career was brought to a premature end by a court martial dismissing him the service for cruelty and oppression. It is true that he was specially reinstated six months later, but he never afterwards commanded a sea-going ship, nor, as an admiral, did he ever hoist his flag. It is indeed a remarkable fact, and one giving much food for thought, that other young captains, whose brilliant courage before the enemy won for them a reputation little, if at all, inferior to that of Hamilton, were also tried by court martial for tyrannical and excessive punishments. It is difficult to avoid the suspicion that this was in great measure due to utter want of training in the art of command. The way in which the ships’ companies were raised, the vicious characters of the men, almost necessarily led to severity which easily might and too often did degenerate into brutality.

On all this, however, Gardner offers no opinion. He took the service as he found it, content to do his duty honestly and faithfully. The story of his career, which is related at length in the following pages, may be summarised from the memoir in O’Byrne’s Naval Biographical Dictionary, the first draft of which was almost certainly written from information supplied by himself.

James Anthony Gardner, son of Francis Geary Gardner, a commander in the navy, who died at St. Lucia in September 1780, was born at Waterford in 1770–1. Francis Geary Gardner, captain of marines, was his brother. Sir Francis Geary Gardner Lee, who began life as a midshipman (p. [202]) and died a lieutenant-colonel of marines, was a cousin. Two other cousins—Knight and Lee—captains in the 17th regiment, are mentioned (p. [208]), and yet another, ‘son of the late Alderman Bates of Waterford’ (p. [221]). His grandfather, James Gardner, who died, a lieutenant in the navy, in 1755, was, in 1747–8, a lieutenant of the Culloden, with Captain, afterwards Admiral Sir Francis, Geary, the godfather of James’s son, who, on 2 February, 1768, married Rachel, daughter of Anthony Lee of Waterford, and niece of Admiral William Parry. It will be noticed that the younger Gardner, having been born in Ireland, son of an Irish mother, considered himself Irish, is especially Irish in his sympathies, and that throughout his ‘Recollections’ the word ‘Irish’ is very commonly used as denoting ‘exceptionally good.’

From 1775, when he was not more than five years old, Gardner was borne, as his father’s servant, on the books of the Boreas, the Conqueror, and the Ætna; and he might, according to the custom of the day, have counted these years as part of his time at sea. As, however, when he went up for his examination (p. [174]), he had more sea time than enough, he only counted it from his entry on board the Salisbury in December 1783 (p. [41]). Really, he first went to sea in May 1782 (p. [19]) in the Panther, and in her, under—in succession—Captains Thomas Piercy and Robert Simonton, he saw the loss of the Royal George, and was present at Howe’s relief of Gibraltar and in the ‘rencounter’ with the combined fleets of France and Spain off Cape Spartel on 20 October, 1782 (pp. [24], 27, 30 seq.).

During the ensuing peace he served on the Newfoundland and Home stations, as midshipman and master’s mate in the Salisbury, 50, flagship of Vice-Admiral John Campbell (pp. [41]–55); Orestes, 18, Captain Manley Dixon (pp. [56]–63); Edgar, 74, flagship of Rear-Admirals the Hon. John Leveson Gower and Joseph Peyton (pp. [64]–96); Barfleur, 98, bearing the flags of Admirals Roddam, the Hon. Samuel Barrington, Sir John Jervis, John Elliot and Jonathan Faulknor (pp. [97]–120), and Queen, 98, Captain John Hutt (pp. [121]–5). After a further service, chiefly in the Mediterranean in the Berwick, 74, Captains Sir John Collins, William Shield. George Campbell and George Henry Towry (pp. [126]–154); in the Gorgon, 44, Captain James Wallis, for a passage to England (pp. [155]–171); and in the Victory, 110, Captain John Knight, at Portsmouth (pp. [172]–7), he was promoted, 12 January 1795, to be lieutenant of the Hind, 28, Captains Richard Lee and John Bazely (the younger), on the North American and Irish stations, and in January 1797 was sent in to Plymouth in charge of a prize, La Favorite privateer, of 8 guns and 60 men (pp. [178], 202).

His next appointments were—8 March 1798, to the Blonde, 32, Captain Daniel Dobree, under whom he assisted in conveying troops to Holland in August 1799 (pp. [203]–225); 13 April, 1801, to the Brunswick, 74, Captain George Hopewell Stephens, which, after a year in the West Indies, returned home and was paid off in July 1802 (pp. [226]–249). After a short service as agent of transports at Portsmouth (p. [250]), he was appointed, in January 1806, in charge of the signal station at Fairlight in Sussex, where he continued till 7 December 1814 (pp. [251]–263). From that date he remained on half pay as a lieutenant, till on 26 November 1830, he was placed on the retired list with the rank of commander.

Reading this summary of Gardner’s service, in connection with the longer narrative, we are naturally inclined to say: Another instance of a good man choked out of the line of promotion by want of interest; there must have been something radically wrong with the system that permitted want of interest to shelve, at the age of 32, a sober, punctual and capable officer, with a blameless record and distinguished certificates. But would such a presentment of the case be quite correct? Gardner was excellently well connected, and had relations or good friends—including the comptroller himself (p. [97])—in many different departments of the public service. He must have had remarkably good interest; and we are forced to look elsewhere for what can only be called his failure.

The first reason for it—one, too, that has damaged many a young officer’s prospects—was his determination to pick and choose his service. This is apparent throughout. He wasted his interest in getting out of what he considered disagreeable employments. He quarrelled with Captain Calder and wearied Sir Henry Martin by his refusal to go to the West Indies, as it ‘did not suit my inclination’ (p. [97]); he scouted McArthur’s suggestion to try his fortune on board the Victory (p. [148]), and got himself sent to the Gorgon for a passage to England, only to find that his cleverness cost him five months’ time and the whole of his kit (pp. [172]–3). The same daintiness is to be observed throughout. But if one thing is more certain than another in calculating the luck of the service, it is that a whole-hearted devotion to it, a readiness to go anywhere and to do anything, pays the best.

Later on, there was another reason for Gardner’s want of this readiness. He married early—on 11 December 1798—and his future career does not contravene the frequently expressed opinion of our most distinguished admirals, from Lord St. Vincent downwards, that—as far as the service is concerned—a young lieutenant might as well cut his throat as marry. ‘D’ye mind me,’ says the old song—

‘D’ye mind me! a sailor should be, every inch,

All as one as a piece of the ship;’

and for a young man, with a young wife at home, that is impossible. His allegiance is divided; the wife on shore has the biggest share and continually calls for more, till the husband gets a home appointment—a guardo, a coast-guard, or a signal station—pleasant for the time, but fatal to all chance of promotion. No doubt there have been exceptions. It would not be impossible to cite names of officers who married as lieutenants and rose to high rank; but either under peculiar conditions of service, or because the wife has had sufficient strength of mind to prevent her standing in the way of her husband’s profession; possibly even she may have forwarded him in it. Exceptio probat regulam; but Gardner was not one. His direct connection with the service ended with the peace in 1814. It does not appear that he either asked for or wished for any further employment; but spent the rest of his life in a peaceful and contented retirement in the bosom of his family, at Peckham, where he died on 24 September 1846, in his 76th year. He was buried in the churchyard of St. Mary’s, Newington Butts, where a head-stone once marked the site of the grave. But the churchyard has been turned into a pleasure-ground, and the position of the stone or the grave is now unknown.

The ‘Recollections’ which by the kindness of the authors grandsons, Francis William and Henry James Gardner, we are now permitted to print, were written in 1836, and corrected, to some small extent, in later years. We have no information of the sources from which he composed them. He must have had his logs; and we may suppose either that these took the form of journals, or that he had also kept a journal with some regularity. Certainly it is not probable that, without some register, he could have given the lists of his shipmates, correct even—in very many cases—to the Christian names. That their characters and the various highly flavoured anecdotes were matters of memory is more easily believed.

What is, in one sense, the most remarkable thing about the work is the strong literary seasoning which it often betrays. The manuscript is a little volume (fcap. 4to) written on both sides of the paper, in a small neat hand. This, of itself, is evidence that Gardner—leaving school, after six or seven broken years, at the age of twelve—did not consider, or rather was not allowed to consider, his education finished in all branches except in the line of his profession. Of the way in which it was continued, we have no knowledge. It is quite possible that Macbride, the drunken and obscene schoolmaster of the Edgar, may, in his sober intervals, have helped to inspire him with some desire of learning. The educational powers of Pye, the schoolmaster of the Salisbury and of the Barfleur, can scarcely have stretched beyond the working of a lunar. In the Berwick he was shipmates with the Rev. Alexander John Scott—in after years chaplain of the Victory and Nelsons foreign secretary—a man of literary aptitudes, who was ‘always going on shore to make researches after antiquities’ (p. [150]), and Gardner may sometimes have been allowed to accompany him in his rambles.

However this may have been, it is very noteworthy that a tincture of polite learning was shared by many of his messmates. To those whose notions of life afloat are gathered from Roderick Random and other descriptions of the seamy side of the service, it will seem incredible that such should have been the case. We are not here concerned to prove it as a general proposition. It is enough to refer to the particular instances before us—that of Gardner and his messmates. He tells us that Macredie, who was with him in the Edgar, and afterwards in the Barfleur, was ‘an excellent scholar, well acquainted with Greek and Latin, ancient history and mathematics’ (p. [80]), which must mean something, even if we allow a good deal for exaggeration. In the Edgar they were with that disreputable but amiable and talented sinner, Macbride; and it was also in the Edgar that the assumption of Homeric characters was a common sport, in which Macredie figured as Ajax Telamon, Culverhouse as Diomede, and Pringle won the name of ‘Ponderous and Huge’ (pp. [84], 93).

This does not, perhaps, go for very much; but it cannot be lost sight of that, as concerns Gardner, it was accompanied by a readiness to apply quotations from Popes Iliad and from the Aeneid, sometimes in Dryden’s version, sometimes in the original. He was certainly, also, as familiar with Hudibras as ever Alan Quatermain was with The Ingoldsby Legends. Shakespeare he does not seem to have studied; and though it is but a small thing in comparison that he should have read Ossian and A Sentimental Journey, his knowledge of, his familiarity with, Roman history may be allowed as a makeweight, unless indeed—which is quite possible—it was drilled into him by Scott on each separate occasion. Thus, when the Berwick goes to Tunis and Porto Farino, he is reminded of the fate of Regulus (p. [136]); he connects Trapani with the destruction of the Roman fleet under Claudius (p. [137]), and knows that the concluding battle of the first Punic war—the battle which, as Mahan has shown, decided the result of the second Punic war—was fought off the Egades (p. [138]). Incomparably more attention is nowadays paid to the instruction of our youngsters; but we are confident that very few of them could note such things in their journal unless specially coached up in them by a friendly senior.

In this, again, there have been exceptions. Until recently there has probably always been a sprinkling of officers who kept up and increased the knowledge of Latin they brought from Eton or Westminster[^[1]] or other schools of classical learning; and Hannay, the novelist, who had a personal acquaintance with gunroom life of sixty years ago, has represented the midshipmen and mates of his day bandying quotations from Horace or Virgil with a freedom which many have thought ridiculous, but which, we must admit, might sometimes be met with. We were told by an officer who served in the Hibernia under the flag of Sir William Parker, that it was easy to fit names to all the principal characters in Hannay’s novelettes; and it may be assumed that what was true for the captains was equally true for the midshipmen.

Such familiarity with the Latin poets was, of course, very exceptional then; it has now, we fancy, entirely dropped out. The Latin which our present youngsters bring into the service must be extremely little, and they have no opportunity of continuing the study of it; and though English history and naval history form part of the curriculum at Osborne and Dartmouth, there is but little inducement to a young officer to read more when he goes afloat. But there are certainly many of our older officers who would say that a sound and intelligent knowledge of history is more likely to be profitable to the average captain or admiral than the most absolute familiarity with the processes of the differential or integral calculus.

A considerable, and what to many will be a most interesting, part of the volume is occupied by lists of names and thumb-nail sketches of character. No attempt has been made to amplify these beyond filling in dates and Christian names [in square brackets] from Navy-lists and Pay-books. More would generally have been impracticable, for most of the names are unknown to history; and where otherwise, anything like full notices would have enormously swelled the volume, without any adequate gain. It has seemed better to add a mere reference to some easily accessible memoir, either in the Dictionary of National Biography (D.N.B.), Charnock’s Biographia Navalis, Marshall’s Royal Naval Biography, or O’Byrne’s Naval Biographical Dictionary; sometimes also to James’s Naval History, Schomberg’s Naval Chronology, or to Beatson’s Naval and Military Memoirs—all books which are quite common, and are or ought to be in every naval library.

It remains only for the Editors to express their grateful thanks to the Messrs. Gardner, who not only permit them to publish the ‘Recollections,’ but supplied them with a copy of the MS., typed at their expense; to the Very Rev. the Dean of Waterford, who has most kindly had all the registers at Waterford searched (though vainly) in the endeavour to determine the exact date of Commander Gardner’s birth; and to the numerous friends and even strangers who have so kindly helped them in answering the various queries which have presented themselves. These are too many to name; but the Editors must, in a special degree, mention their obligations to Commander C. N. Robinson, R.N., whose very exceptional knowledge of the byways of naval literature has been most generously put at their service. That some of their queries have remained unanswered and that explanatory notes are thus sometimes wanting will serve to emphasise the importance of the assistance referred to. What, for instance, is the meaning of the phrase ‘My hat’s off’ (p. [108])? Apparently ‘Not a word!’ but why? or again, what are ‘ugly podreen faces’ (p. [214])? To a mere Englishman the epithet looks as if it might be Irish; but Irish dictionaries and three competent Irish scholars are positive that it is not. Once more, they express their warmest thanks for the help that has been so freely given them.

CONTENTS

NAVAL RECOLLECTIONS
IN SHREDS AND PATCHES
WITH STRANGE REFLECTIONS
ABOVE AND UNDER HATCHES.

I know nothing of grammar;

At school they never could hammer

Or beat it into my head.

The bare word made me stammer,

And turn pale as if I were dead.

And here I may as well be telling

I’m often damned out in my spelling.

And this is all the apology

I offer for my chronology,

And biographical sketches

Of mighty men, and lubberly wretches,

From seventeen hundred and seventy-seven—

Their rank, their titles, and their names are given.

14th June 1836.

BOREAS, 28

Ye bloods of the present day!

To you I have nothing to say,

Except ye are able

To splice a chain cable

Or get a sheer hulk under way.

But to my veteran friends,

I submit here my odds and my ends.

I begin at the good old times when luxury was not known in the service, when we were carrying on the war against the Yankees and the French. My father, the late Captain Francis Geary Gardner, was appointed through the interest of Admiral Francis Geary[^[2]] (afterwards Sir Francis), and of my mother’s uncle, Admiral William Parry,[^[3]] to be master of the Boreas, a new frigate of 28 guns fitting at Chatham, and commanded by Captain Charles Thompson, with the promise of Lord Sandwich (then first lord of the admiralty) to be promoted when opportunity offered; which promise his lordship performed by appointing him lieutenant of the Conqueror, 74, as will be seen hereafter.

It has pleased God to give me a good memory, and I have perfect recollection of almost every circumstance from very early life. My objection in writing my naval recollections is to amuse my family when I am moored head and stern; and I shall first state for their information that my naval ancestors held the rank from admiral of the white to that of commander, and in the soldiering line from general to major. Having settled this point I shall now commence by stating that, while the Boreas was fitting, we took lodgings at the house of a cross old maid at Brompton, named Patty Pankhurst, who I have reason to remember; for having unfortunately cut up some carrots she had for dinner, and upsetting her potatoes down an alley, she for this innocent amusement never forgave me. I well recollect a ghostly story the old hussy related about the boatswain of the Bonny Broom who was drowned going off to his ship near Gillingham, and how he used to be seen cruising up and down along the shore and hailing ‘Board the Bonny Broom ahoy!’ three times, and then go to the churchyard exactly at 1 o’clock and disappear! She would kindly tell me this at night, adding ‘Hark, don’t you hear him?’ and then I would be afraid to go to bed. This had ten times more effect upon my nerves than the little cane she kept for active service,

With which she laid about more busily

Than the Amazonian dame Penthesile (Hudibras);

and if Patty would only say ‘I think I hear the boatswain,’ I would be off without further trouble.

My father, mother, and Charley Buchan, the purser, took it into their heads to walk to Cobham on a Sunday in very warm weather. When they got there, it was near church time in the afternoon; they wanted to get dinner, but nothing could be obtained at any of the houses; and when asked if they had anything, the answer was, ‘We have ate it all up,’ and Buchan would reply, ‘The devil choke you with it.’ He then set off to forage while we remained at an inn. After waiting some time we heard a shouting, and on going out saw him marching at the head of the people who were going to church, waving a shoulder of mutton and singing a stave from the 41st Psalm:

Happy the man whose tender care

Relieves the poor distressed.

On his coming in, the landlord took my father aside and requested to know if the gentleman (meaning Buchan) was right in his intellect. To keep up the joke my father told him he was subject to sudden fits of insanity and would frequently bite people, and always took the piece out. ‘God save us!’ said the landlord; ‘I wish his honour had gone to some other house, for I don’t like the look of him.’ The mutton, however, was put down to roast, and when about half done was brought in, and the landlord, bending his eye, not on vacancy but on Buchan, said he hoped everything was to his honour’s liking, and adding that when the company had dined he would be glad to have the room, as it was engaged for the evening; upon which Buchan got up and, flourishing the carving knife, sang with a voice of thunder, ‘Farewell to Lochaber,’ which made the landlord back out as if he had been at the levee. We soon after relieved him from his troubles and returned to Brompton.

When the ship was fitted we sailed for Sheerness; and on paying a visit to the Mars, 74, a guard-ship at Black Stakes (the captain being a relation of my mother) we got swamped alongside, but luckily escaped drowning. While at Sheerness we had an invitation to dine with a merchant whose name was Simmers, and among the number Buchan the purser was invited. At the table sat Mr. Simmers’ dog Pompey, with a plate laid for him. It was laughable to hear Buchan (who was a wag) ask Pompey if he should have the pleasure of drinking wine with him; and on taking leave he gave the dog an invitation to dine on board with him the next day, saying he should be most happy to see him and his father (Mr. Simmers), and to be sure not to come without him. The old man felt the rebuke and gave no more invitations.

After getting our powder we sailed for the Downs, and soon after proceeded to Spithead, where we remained a short time until we received orders to take shipwrights to Halifax from Portsmouth and Plymouth; and when everything was ready, we got under way from St. Helen’s in the evening; but in consequence of the man in the chains giving the wrong soundings—the leadline being foul—the ship struck on the Dean, where the old Invincible, 74, was lost, and after considerable damage was got off and returned to Spithead and then to Portsmouth Harbour to refit. My father was tried by a court martial and honourably acquitted. While in the harbour alongside the jetty, a cat flew at the sentry on the gangway and fixed on his shoulder, and it was with great difficulty the animal could be removed; the sentry fell in a fit and dropped his musket overboard and was subject to fits while he remained in the ship. The Boreas when refitted was ordered to the West Indies, and I left the ship for school,[^[4]] and again joined her on her return, and sailed for Plymouth and went into Hamoaze, when Lord Sandwich promoted my father and appointed him fifth Lieutenant of the Conqueror, 74, fitting in the harbour.

We took lodgings at the house of a hop merchant in North Corner Street; he was also carpenter of a line-of-battle ship, and a very eccentric character. His name was John Cowdray, and on his table linen was marked in large letters Sir John Cowdray, Baronet and Knight of the Bath. His wife was also a strange being and was perpetually calling out ‘Bet Waters! Bet Waters!’ (the name of her servant) from morning until night, with a voice that, sounded like a sow-gelder’s flageolet. The day before my father left the Boreas, he gave at this house a dinner to the captain and officers; and I remember his saying to Captain Thompson that Sir Francis Drake taught the people of Plymouth to walk upright: before that they went on all fours. He had hardly made the observation when the door opened, and in came one of the servants upon all fours, having fallen and upset a couple of roast fowls with all the contents upon Sir John Cowdray’s fine carpet, and bespattered my father’s white lappels. ‘There,’ says Captain Thompson, ‘is a specimen of grown people taught to walk upright by Sir Francis Drake.’

While the Boreas lay in Hamoaze, a violent quarrel took place between her crew and that of the Foudroyant, and several hard battles were fought, to the advantage of the former, who always came off conqueror when not overpowered by numbers. We had a fellow by the name of Waddle who was coxswain of the pinnace, and a noted boxer. This man fought and beat three of the best men belonging to the Foudroyant, one after the other, to the great satisfaction of his shipmates, who made a subscription and handsomely rewarded their champion.

During the time this frigate was in the West Indies, and also on the home service, she sailed superior to any of the men of war, and was one of the first of the copper-bottomed. The following are the names of the officers that I can recollect:—

Charles Thompson, Esq., Captain.

Dead [1799]. A baronet and vice-admiral of the red.—[D.N.B.]

John Laugharne, 1st Lieutenant.

Dead [1819]. A vice-admiral; a most indefatigable first lieutenant, and one of the best seamen in the service.

Joseph Peyton, 2nd Lieutenant.

Dead [1816]. A rear-admiral [superannuated].

Charles Holmes Everitt, 2nd Lieutenant.

Dead [1807]. An admiral [took the name of Calmady].

[Richard] Hawford, 2nd Lieutenant.

He commanded the Rover sloop of war when she upset in a white squall on the West India Station and all hands unfortunately perished [on or about 29 October 1781].

Francis Geary Gardner, Master.

Dead. A captain in the Royal Navy. He was considered one of the first seamen in the navy, and also a most skilful pilot for the coast of America.

Charles Buchan, Purser.

Dead. A most worthy gentleman.

Correy, Surgeon. Dead. Remember little of him. I believe he was drowned when the Royal George upset.

[William] Williams, Lieutenant of Marines.

Dead.

J[ohn] Monkton, Mate.

Dead [1827]. A rear-admiral. He was first lieutenant of the Marlborough, 74, in Lord Howe’s action, June 1, 1794, and behaved with great bravery. He was made commander and soon after got his post rank. He commanded the Mars, 74, the flagship of Admiral Berkeley. When the promotion of flags took place, to the astonishment of every person, he was placed on the retired list of rear-admirals.—[Marshall, iii. 12.]

Lenox Thompson, Mate.

Dead [1835]. A post captain [1802]; a very good officer.

George Wangford, Midshipman.

Dead. See Edgar.

[Jacob] Swanson, Gunner.

Dead. A very good man, but had a very bad wife.[^[5]]

[Thomas] Wilson, Surgeon’s Mate.

Uncertain. He could play a little on the flute, and used to annoy all hands by everlastingly playing the King’s Minuet.

The above are all the officers I can recollect that belonged to the Boreas.

CONQUEROR, 74

My Lord, you give a fight in sham,

A Spithead fight not worth a damn,

And that’s your Lordship’s epigram.

My father joined the Conqueror in December 1777 as fifth and then fourth lieutenant, the late Admiral Thomas Lord Graves captain, fitting in Hamoaze; and after a cruise or two the ship was ordered to Spithead to join the fleet assembled there for the sham fight, and to be reviewed by his Majesty King George III. Sir Thomas Pye, admiral of the white, was port admiral and senior officer, and Admiral Keppel (blue at the main) had his flag on board the Prince George, 98. When his Majesty went afloat, the flag officers and captains attended in their barges, Sir Thomas Pye leading the van. The royal standard was hoisted on board the Prince George, and a grand salute took place from the whole of the men of war, which was repeated several times during the day. Thousands of boats full of spectators attended at Spithead; several of the nobility were on board the Conqueror. The ladies didn’t much like the firing, and one of them had a tooth knocked out by biting the frame of the quarter-gallery window when the after gun on the main deck went off. Soon after the review, a fleet being ordered to sail for America with all possible dispatch, we were sent to Plymouth to join them. They consisted of the following men of war under the command of the Honourable John Byron, vice-admiral of the blue:—

The fleet sailed from Cawsand Bay in 1778 soon after the review and a short time before Keppel’s action, and I left the ship for school. It is in the remembrance of many that this fleet had a dreadful passage and separated. The Princess Royal arrived at her destination alone, and it was a long time before they could be collected. The Conqueror was eleven weeks on her passage, and had three hundred of her crew in the sick list. The Invincible put into St. John’s, Newfoundland, in distress, and all the squadron suffered more or less. I hope it will not be presumptuous to state that my father was considered one of the best seamen in the service, and a very able and skilful pilot, particularly for the coast of America; which is well known to some of the oldest officers of the present day. In this gale he exerted himself with such ability that when Admiral Hyde Parker hoisted his flag on board the Conqueror, he told my father that he should remember him when opportunity offered, which promise he performed by removing him to the Princess Royal, his flagship, when he took the command of the fleet on the return of Admirals Byron and Barrington to England. The rear-admiral was a very strict officer, and from his austere disposition got the nickname of Old Vinegar, and it was a very difficult task for an officer to get into his good graces. When he shifted his flag (blue at the mizen) from the Conqueror to the Princess Royal in the West Indies, he also removed Mr. McInerheny, the master of the former (an officer and seaman of first-rate abilities), to the flagship, and, in February 1780, he promoted my father and appointed him Captain of the Etna, wishing him success as a meritorious officer and deserving of promotion, and said he would recommend him to Admiral Rodney as soon as he should take command of the fleet. I shall just mention that Patrick Gibson,[^[6]] who died about four years ago, aged one hundred and eleven, was purser of the Princess Royal and a messmate of my father’s. I shall state further particulars of this extraordinary man when I come to the Blonde.

The following are the names of the officers.

Thos. Graves, Esq., Captain and then Commodore.

Dead [1802]. An admiral of the white. When made a rear-admiral he had his flag on board the London, 98, at the Chesapeake, but failed in preventing the Count de Grasse getting there with succours for the American Army. Owing to this unfortunate circumstance, Lord Cornwallis was obliged to capitulate with 5,000 men to the Americans. He had his flag on board the Ramillies when that ship foundered in the gale of September 1782, coming home with the West India convoy, of which he had charge, and showed uncommon presence of mind in the dreadful situation that ship was in. The Ramillies was lying-to under a main sail[^[7]] (a sail that a ship should never be laid to under) on the larboard tack with her head to the westward, when she was taken aback, and if her mast had not gone she must have foundered. She had six feet of water in the hold, which increased to nine feet, and it was found impossible to keep her free. Fortunately the gale abated for a short time, and the ship’s company were removed to a merchantman, the admiral being the last to quit. He did everything that an able seaman could do to save her, in setting a good example and showing undaunted courage in a situation that would have shaken the nerves of the philosophers of Greece and Rome. Admiral Graves was port admiral at Plymouth, and when the war broke out in 1793 he hoisted his flag on board the Royal Sovereign, 110; was in the action of the 1st of June 1794; was wounded and made a peer.—[D.N.B.]

Harry Harmood, Esq., Captain

Dead. Commissioner of the Navy.

[Charles] Osborne, 1st Lieutenant.

Dead.

[Ellis] Troughton, 2nd Lieutenant.

Dead. A commander.

[Thomas] Floyd, 3rd Lieutenant.

Dead. A dandy.

Francis Geary Gardner, 4th Lieutenant [5th, 4th, 3rd, 2nd.]

Dead. Captain. [James Gardner, his servant; both D. August 28, 1779, to Princess Royal.]

Williams, 5th Lieutenant.

Dead. A mad fellow.

N[icholas] McInerheny, Master.

Dead. An excellent officer and seaman. [William McInerheny, his servant.]

Sir John Dalston, Baronet, Captain of Marines.

Dead.

Walter Smith, Lieutenant of Marines.

Dead. A colonel.

William Barker, Lieutenant of Marines.

Dead. A captain in the army.

[Henry] Hutchins, Purser.

Dead.

[Robert] White, Surgeon.

Dead.

[John Stode] Foote, Chaplain.

Dead.

[Thomas] Mears [or Mayers], Gunner.

Dead.

[Benjamin] Hearle, Carpenter.

Dead.

Richard Nash, Midshipman.

Dead. A lieutenant R.N.; was first of the Impregnable, 98, the flagship in Hamoaze; and while standing on the gangway was killed by a man falling on him from the mainyard.

[John] Nash, Midshipman [Captain’s servant].

Dead [1824]. Captain, brother of the above.

[James] Nash, Midshipman [Captain’s servant.]

Dead [1827]. Captain, brother of the above.

John Blake, Midshipman [Captain’s servant].

Dead. A commander.

Robert Rolles, Midshipman.

A vice-admiral, and a most active and able officer. [Died, 1839—Marshall, ii. 676.]

NAVAL ACADEMY, GOSPORT

In Mathematics he was greater

Than Tycho Brahe, or Erra Pater.

For he by geometric scale

Could take the size of pots of ale;

Resolve by sines and tangents straight,

If bread or butter wanted weight;

And wisely tell what hour o’ th’ day,

The clock does strike by algebra.—Hudibras.

The name of the master of this school was Orchard, and a very good man he was; but who the devil taught him navigation is more than I can say. He was a great disciplinarian, and used to flourish with direful sway an infernal horsewhip, that I have reason to remember. It was called ‘black pudding,’ and he was no way stingy in serving it out. I recollect one of the scholars coming very late one morning quite out of breath, and when asked the reason by old Orchard, he replied: ‘The man said that the boy said that the woman said that Mr. Browell said if he did not hold his tongue he would knock him down dead.’ This set the whole school in a roar of laughter, and I for one got three or four cuts across the shoulder with the before-mentioned black pudding, that I have perfect remembrance of to the present day. While at this school we used to bathe in a lake that runs near the Horse-field on the Stoke Road. On one occasion we drove a cow into the mud so that we could not extricate the animal, and it was fast sinking up to the neck. A militia regiment happened to be encamped near the spot, and it took several of the soldiers a long time to get it out. I never shall forget the terror we were in when the owner swore he would send the whole of us to jail; and Buck Adams, the keeper of the Bridewell, passing near the spot by chance, we thought he was come to seize us, and several of the party set off and ran naked into the town covered with mud. We had to pay near twenty shillings to make the matter up, besides treating the soldiers, who enjoyed the fun. As I’m in a hurry to get to sea again I shall only relate one or two circumstances that happened before I took my departure.

I was standing on Gosport beach when the prisoners were landed from some of the prizes taken by Rear-Admiral Kempenfelt (the ablest tactician in the navy), who with only twelve sail of the line by a masterly manœuvre captured most of the convoy from the French admiral, Count de Guichen, who had nineteen sail of the line, and frustrated the expedition. A party of soldiers assembled on the beach to escort them to Forton prison, a lieutenant of the navy and several midshipmen also attending, when a posse of women rushed out of Rime’s ‘noted alley’ and, pointing to the soldiers, sang the following beautiful ditty:

Don’t you see the ships a-coming?

Don’t you see them in full sail?

Don’t you see the ships a-coming

With the prizes at their tail?

Oh! my little rolling sailor,

Oh! my little rolling he;

I do love a jolly sailor,

Blithe and merry might he be.

Sailors, they get all the money,

Soldiers they get none but brass;

I do love a jolly sailor.

Soldiers they may kiss—

Oh! my little rolling sailor,

Oh! my little rolling he;

I do love a jolly sailor,

Soldiers may be damned for me.

Then, catching hold of the lieutenant and midshipmen, they began to hug and kiss them, and it was some time before they could get out of their clutches. They then began to pelt the soldiers, who took it very patiently and seemed very glad when the order was given to march with the Frenchmen.

In holiday time we used to set off to a place called Grange, about two miles from Gosport, where the gipsies had a camp, and many a desperate battle we have had with them. I well recollect about fourteen of us going out, and after many manœuvres we succeeded in capturing some of their donkeys and rode off in triumph; but the swarthy squad got a reinforcement, with which they attacked us; and with sticks and stones, we maintained a running fight until driven into Stoke, after abandoning our donkeys and giving up the contest. The clergyman at Stoke (Mr. Shield) who had witnessed the engagement, said it was the defeat of the long-eared cavalry by the Egyptian infantry.

The following are the names of the gentlemen at this Academy:—

Orchard, the Master.

Dead. A very worthy and upright character.

Edward Bingham, Midshipman.

Dead. A very worthy young man.

J. Bingham, Midshipman.

Dead. A rear-admiral—proud enough.

Robert Bingham.

Dead. A clergyman, Royal Navy.

John Merrett.

Dead. A surgeon at Portsmouth.

J. A. Gardner, Midshipman.

A commander.

William Vosper, Midshipman.

A lieutenant of the Royal Hospital at Greenwich.

William Kitten.

Uncertain. Like all kittens made too much of.

Richard Nicholson, Midshipman.

Dead. A commander.

W. P. Nicholson, Midshipman.

Dead. Unfortunate.

John Wilkinson.

Dead. A lawyer at Gosport.

W. Coet, Midshipman.

A commander; a very good fellow; we used to cal him Old Owl. Since dead. [Possibly William Coote.—Marshall, x. 364.]

William Bowler.

Dead. A surgeon in the Royal Navy, called Squiney; a very good fellow.

John Barton.

Dead. Sir John Barton, treasurer of the Queen’s household.

Skene, Midshipman.

Uncertain. Called Jaw-me-dead.

Sol. Saradine.

Dead. A droll, wicked fellow.

Taylor.

This unfortunate man was surgeon of H.M. ship Jamaica, and by the sentence of a court martial was hanged at the yardarm at Spithead.[^[8]]

Richard Carter.

Dead. A very worthy fellow.

PANTHER, 60

When I remember all

The friends so link’d together,

I’ve seen around me fall,

Like leaves in windy weather;

I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,

And all but me departed.

Thus in the stilly night,

Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,

Sad memory brings the light

Of other days around me.—Moore.

When I was on board the Boreas and Conqueror with my father I had nothing to do with the midshipmen, as I lived in the gunroom of the former and wardroom of the latter. But in this ship I took my degrees (not as a doctor of Oxford, thank God!) but as a midshipman in the cockpit of H.M. ship Panther, with some of the best fellows that ever graced the British navy. I joined her early in 1782 fitting in Portsmouth Harbour, commanded by Captain Thomas Piercy of glorious memory. I had eleven shillings given me by some friends in Gosport, and I thought my fortune was made.

On my introduction to my new shipmates I was shown down to the starboard wing berth. I had not been long seated before a rugged-muzzled midshipman came in, and having eyed me for a short time, he sang out with a voice of thunder: ‘Blister my tripes—where the hell did you come from? I suppose you want to stick your grinders (for it was near dinner-time) into some of our a la mode beef;’ and without waiting for a reply, he sat down and sang a song that I shall remember as long as I live. The first verse, being the most moral, I shall give:

A Duchess from Germany

Has lately made her will;

Her body she’s left to be buried,

Her soul to the devil in hell.

This gentleman’s name was Watson; and notwithstanding the song and his blunt manner of speaking, he proved to be a very good fellow, and was the life and soul of the mess.

I must now describe our starboard wing berth and compare it with the manners and customs of the present day. In this ship our mess-place had canvas screens scrubbed white, wainscot tables, well polished, Windsor chairs, and a pantry fitted in the wing to stow our crockery and dinner traps with safety. The holystones and hand organs,[^[9]] in requisition twice a week, made our orlop deck as white as the boards of any crack drawing room, the strictest attention being paid to cleanliness; and everything had the appearance of Spartan simplicity. We used to sit down to a piece of salt beef, with sour krout, and dine gloriously with our pint of black-strap[^[10]] after, ready at all calls, and as fit for battle as for muster. Here mark the difference. The cockpit abandoned, and my lords and gentlemen ushered into the gunroom fitted up in luxurious style, with window curtains, blinds, buffets, wine coolers, silver forks, and many other appendages of that delicate nature, unknown in the good old times; and, if I am correctly informed, a brass knocker[^[11]] fixed at the gunroom door, which ever and anon announces the approach of the mighty members with as much pomp as a Roman consul with his lictors thundering at the door for admittance. But enough of this. When war comes we shall see.

When I joined the Panther, Mr. Price, the purser, who I knew nothing of, furnished me with everything I stood in need of, as the ship was hurried off to join Lord Howe and I had not time to get fitted out. When the ship was paid, he refused to take any remuneration when I called to repay the obligation, but said he would do the same again with pleasure. I stand indebted to his kindness, which I shall remember for ever with heart-felt gratitude and respect for his memory, and grieved I am that the service should have lost so good an officer, lamented by every person who had the pleasure of his acquaintance.

We sailed (I think) in May with the grand fleet under Lord Howe, to cruise in the North Sea after the Dutch. On our arrival in the Downs, Captain Piercy, from ill health, left the ship, to the great regret of every officer and man on board, and was succeeded in the command by Captain Robert Simonton.

Nor he unworthy to conduct the host,