Read Ebook: The Reign of Gilt by Phillips David Graham

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 186 lines and 23882 words, and 4 pages

Boys who were noted for being smart and clean wore a gold badge as a token of the same. The advantages reaped from this badge were two in number : an extra half day's leave on Saturday, and one penny a week additional pay. There were two other sets of boys who were entitled to the first of these privileges : the advanced scholars in school, and members of the drum and fife band. Accordingly, on Saturdays during the dinner-hour the boatswain's mate would pipe: "Leave for badge-boy, advanced class, and drum and fife band;" As I was a badge boy, and an advanced scholar, and a flute-player, I nestled under the wing of this threefold privilege, and used to think in my boyish pride, Who indeed has more right to go ashore than I?

Before any boy is supposed to be ready for sea, he has to undergo in addition to the 'Impregnable' studies, a course of gunnery, and from ten to twelve weeks on a training brig. I underwent my gunnery course in H.M.S. 'Foudroyant,' one of Nelson's flagships, which lay at that time in close proximity to the 'Impregnable,' and I returned every evening to the mother-ship. The two brigs which trained her boys were the 'Nautilus' and the 'Pilot.' I was drafted to the latter for three months. Speaking generally, daily sea trips were taken--that is to say, that after making sail and slipping the buoy, we would leave Plymouth Sound for the Channel, drill all day, and return to our mooring in the evening, weary and fatigued, although, even then, we had to scrub and wash clothes. On two occasions we took longer trips, first to Dartmouth, and then to Portsmouth. Fearful was the weather we experienced sailing to the latter port--fearful, I mean, to my boyish experience, though I must say that even an old salt was heard to pronounce it "a very stormy voyage."

I met with an accident on board the 'Pilot.' One night whilst at anchor I was ordered to row the dinghy ashore. It was very wet and dark, and in the act of climbing down the painter which attached the boat to the boom, it was so slippery that I lost my grip and fell. My shoeless feet came in contact with the boat's crutch ; my right foot bled profusely, as one of these arms had pierced the flesh deeply. I managed to get on board to the sick berth, and after the steward's treatment it ceased bleeding. Whilst in the act of lashing up my hammock the next morning I fell to the deck, so weak had I become by the loss of so much blood on the previous night.

The discipline on board this brig, as on the 'Impregnable,' was rigid in the extreme. On the upper deck at drill time would stand the ship's corporal with his cane, and woe betide any boy who was not putting his weight on the rope, or who was not doubling along the deck. It may be of interest to remark here, that neither in the 'Impregnable' nor the 'Pilot' did I know the queer experience of being lashed to the horse. This was due not so much because I did not deserve it, as that I was fortunate enough to escape detection. To appreciate the above remark the reader must realise the trivial offences for which a poor boy is caned, and in the light of this reflection he will wonder that any sailor boy should be a stranger to the cane during his training.

Through all my naval career I was a sufferer to sea-sickness, which began on this brig. No sooner had we passed the Plymouth Breakwater Lighthouse, when the brig would begin rolling, and I would repair to the lee-scupper. In connection with this part of my story I must not omit to say a kind word for the captain. When many of us poor boys lay strewn along the deck like stricken sheep, he, in passing from the forecastle to poop, would not disturb us. This in itself may not appear much, but in reality it was a great kindness, and one over which I love to ponder. It was the act of a gentleman, to say the least of it, and I cannot but believe that sympathy prompted it, and in this sense it was Christlike. "Inasmuch," said the great Storm Walker who quieted storm-tossed Galilee "as ye do it unto one of the least of these My little ones, ye do it unto Me."

Very near the line of punishment did I approach when on this brig. Working one day on the foretopsail yard, my knife, which by some means had become detached from my lanyard, fell on the forecastle. Fortunately it struck no one, and I was reprimanded only.

The course of training being completed, I was sent back to the 'Impregnable' on draft for sea. Within a few days an order was received stating that a large company of boys were required for the North American and West Indian Station, and I was numbered amongst them.

LEAVING FOR SEA

A few days prior to our departure, Miss Weston kindly invited the draft ashore to her Sailors' Rest to tea, and presented each of us with a Bible, and gave us all a tender farewell. Never will time erase from my mind the memory of the parting with my loved ones; it pains me now even as I dwell upon it. It was Sunday afternoon, and two days prior to my sailing for Bermuda, when the heartrending parting took place. Love can never say its last 'good-bye,' and especially is this true of a mother's love. What thoughts were passing through her mind that Sunday afternoon? God knows fully. But surely they were tinged with this reflection: Would she ever see me again? A shadow deep and dark had recently fallen across the home. During my 'Foudroyant' days a messenger came on board with the sad news that my dear sister had been almost burnt to death. I will not dwell on the sadness of the awful tragedy, save to remark that she died through the cause of the terrible burns three days after the accident. The effect this had upon my mother is almost beyond expression. Her nerves were shattered and she became a physical wreck, and to this day she has never recovered from the shock. Judge then, her sorrow on the Sunday afternoon, when I was bidding 'farewell,' and within a short time of that overwhelming experience. I was now going thousands of miles away for three years, severed from paternal counsel and maternal affection, and on this occasion she was drinking the dregs of her cup of grief. Again, amidst choking sobs and scalding tears, I uttered the last 'good-bye.' The time had come for leaving, and I must depart. With two Sunday School scholars, one on either side , loaded with large parcels of food, we passed down the street. How easy to write it down--how heartbreaking the experience!

The great troopship's anchor was weighed on the Tuesday evening at 5 p.m., and we proceeded to sea. It was the month of October, and ere the evening shadows had stretched upon land and sea, I had gazed upon Maker church tower, at whose base my dear sister lay interred, until my eyes were strained. At last it disappeared from view, and the 'Himalaya' was far, far at sea.

She made a good passage to Madeira, arriving there on the following Sunday morning, and after coaling, we proceeded on the evening of the same day to Bermuda. In the first watch of the night the cry was heard: "Man overboard! Away lifeboat!" The lifebelt was let slip immediately by the sentinel, the engines were reversed, and the lifeboat with its crew lowered quickly from the davits. The lifeboat was one of an improved pattern, fitted with accessories, such as two calcium lights which burn for thirty minutes, and a whistle, the latter being useful to the drowning man in a fog or in darkness to indicate his-whereabouts.

Fortunately the poor man had seized the lifebelt. It was a dark night, but astern the crew of the lifeboat could observe the calcium lights burning. The boat's head was put in that direction, and in a short time the sailor was rescued and rowed back to the ship. Did this seaman accidentally fall from the rigging, or lose his grasp in any manner? No; it is the same old story. Drink was the cause of the accident. He had indulged himself in Madeira wine, which befooled him to such a degree that he deliberately threw himself overboard, the ship steaming eighteen knots an hour at the time. He was confined in a cell the remainder of the voyage, and on arrival at Bermuda was sentenced to a court-martial.

My spare time on the outward voyage was occupied in reading 'Daniel Quorm,' one of Mark Guy Pearse's books, and in attending religious meetings in the evening in the sail-maker's room. There were several relief crews on board for the various ships of the station; hence there were many Christians, and these evening gatherings were blessed by God, and made profitable to all. We had on board one whose destination was the prison at Bermuda, not to become a prisoner, by the way, but a warder. This man, at 4 a.m. every morning, would ferret out all the boys in the ship, sending them to the upper deck to undergo a salt water bath, which to us all, at that untimely hour, was a very trying ordeal.

Nine days after our departure from Madeira, we sighted Bermuda. So calm had been the voyage that I was not troubled by sickness. A dusky pilot came on board, and conned the ship onward through the Narrows, and within a few hours we were securely fastened in the camber at the dockyard. Then came the dispersion. Many ships of the fleet whose commission was now drawing nigh to a close, were flying their paying-off pennant, the crews of which were full of gladness at the 'Himalaya's' arrival, with reliefs, and, moreover, she was their homeward-bound ship. We boys were despatched to H.M.S. 'Terror,' a receiving ship at Bermuda. Here we were kept three weeks, during which time the other ships of the fleet steamed in from sea. One day the 'Emerald' hove in sight. All took an especial interest in this ship, as we had learned she was the worst ship in the fleet for boys--quite a 'waker-up.' Certain it was that some of us would be told off for her.

The dreaded morning came at last, and on the quarterdeck of the 'Terror' we assembled to await our destiny. "Boys whose names I now mention," said the officer, "will join the 'Bellerophon,' the flagship of the fleet." Then followed a long list of names. These 'Bellerophon' boys realised at the time it was better to be fortunate than rich. In proceeding, the officer said:--"Eight boys will join the 'Emerald.'" There was a silence that could be felt at this expression, and all, excepting those who had been told off, looked downcast and fearful. "Their names are," he continued, "so-and-so, so-and-so . . . . and Cowling." "And the lot fell upon Jonah."

It took me many hours to recover from this blow, but the whole of us received the sympathy of all the other boys, who regarded us as embryo martyrs. Next day we eight were taken on board the 'Emerald' in her steam-launch, which came to fetch us. On boarding the ship, I, in looking round to observe what kind of man it was who wielded the cane, fell headlong down the hatchway with my bag of clothes. This I thought was an admirable introduction.

THREE YEARS ON H.M.S. 'EMERALD'

I was ordered to join mess No. 7, to which belonged twenty seamen of different ratings. According to naval etiquette, the boy, together with a different seaman each day, who is termed cook of the mess, has to prepare the dinner, fetch the victuals, clean the utensils and take the dinner of any absentee to the galley to keep warm. In addition to these domestic duties, he has his work in the watch to which he belongs.

The First West Indian Cruise

Refitting work was finished, and in the month of January 1890 we left Bermuda for the West Indies. This was my first sea trip on the 'Emerald,' as I had joined her a few days prior to Christmas 1889. We visited most of the islands in the Indies, and, on the whole, it was an eventful cruise. It would be a transgression of space on my part to enter into all the details of it, such as narrating occasions when we were caught in sudden squalls and how our gallant ship acted under stress of weather, though on one occasion a large cutter was washed away from the davits. However, I will narrate in brief one or two incidents. One night whilst lying at anchor off Dominica, the searchlight was used by way of practice. It was directed toward shore, and whilst traversing it from right to left, the beams of light enveloped a negro on the beach, who stood bewildered, transfixed. After a moment's hesitation he bounded away like a hare, the rays of light still following him, caused by manoeuvring the instrument on board. Breathless he halted, and then in a most terrified manner he turned about and ran in the opposite direction. For a minute the searchlight was not moved, and the man was in the safety of darkness. Judge of his dismay when again the light was played upon him, whilst he was resting from his rapid wanderings up and down the beach. Needless to say, it had the same effect. Little did the negro dream what fun he was causing amongst the bluejackets on our forecastle. Really, it was a shame to torment him so.

At another island I went ashore with a party of seamen, and entered a plantation, where we freely helped ourselves to bunches of bananas, cocoanuts and other fruit. We were under the impression that fruit of this kind was common property, even as blackberries are in this our own land, and this explains the weight of our heavy burdens on our return journey. But this impression was soon to be banished from our mind, for presently we came in contact with a gentleman, who, understanding whence we had come, put a price on all our fruit. The burdens in consequence became considerably lightened. I had to satisfy myself with a few cocoanuts which cost a penny each, and was compelled to leave behind my much loved bananas.

At Barbadoes each watch was granted forty-eight hours' leave. In company with others I landed to visit the sugar-cane plantations. These canes were being cut down by the thousand, and carted to the mill, where between two immense rollers the juice was extracted. Our guide passed round to each of us a cup of this juice to taste. He then instructed us as to the different processes by which sugar is made, and gave us the opportunity to see the large tanks in which it was stowed. In these huge tanks was to be found sugar from the highest degree of refinement down to the lowest degree of inferiority. But the sight which struck me most of all was the treacle-pit. I might enlarge upon the last sentence, but I forbear.

In one harbour there was a sailing match, the competition being between the boats of the fleet. The second cutter of our ship, of which I was one of the crew, entered for the race. With the halyards, the sail was hoisted to the uppermost point, and the sheets pulled taut aft. With a fresh breeze away we scudded. The boat, was soon on her beam ends, taking in large quantities of water, which we bailed out with our caps; still, this did not matter, as she was bounding through the water like a wild thing. Crash! Crash! Went the mast, and the boat was nearly capsized. The midshipman who steered her had endeavoured to weather a schooner lying at anchor, but failed, colliding with her jib-boom. The mast was lashed in a temporary manner, and we proceeded, but not far, when a sudden gust of wind disabled us. We were signalled back to the ship and disqualified for further racing.

The cruise being over, we returned to Bermuda with the fleet, and after taking in stores, left for the Newfoundland fisheries. Two other ships accompanied the 'Emerald' --the 'Pelican' and 'Buzzard.' On this cruise, our captain being senior to the other two, we stood in the relationship of flagship to them, and flew the Commodore's flag until such time as we should again meet the Admiral's ship, when it would be struck.

Before making any observations upon some incidents of this cruise, I will give the reader in barest outline a sketch of life on board a naval sea-going ship. At sea each man gets four and six hours' rest each alternate night--that is, if he keeps the first watch of the night, 8 to 12 p.m., his resting hours are from 12 to 4. At 4 he has to rise again and scrub decks, whereas if he is in his hammock from 8 to 12, then he keeps the middle watch, returning to his rest at 4. Let us imagine the ship at sea. It is midnight. The bell is struck. Immediately is heard a deep bass voice to and fro the lower deck-- "All the starboard watch! Heave out! heave out! heave out! Show a leg! show a leg! All the starboard Watch! Show a leg!" which means "Turn out of your hammock." At five minutes past midnight, a tinkle of a bell is heard, followed by the same deep voice calling "Watch to muster!" Every seaman has to run to the quarterdeck, and on the midshipman calling his name, has to give in his number. This being done the boatswain's mate pipes, "Sea-boats' crew and relieves fall in."

In answer to this call the crew of the lifeboat and certain men of the watch who have special duties to perform, called 'tricks,' during the next four hours, present themselves before the quarter-master, who, being satisfied that the correct number there, dismisses them. Two look-out men are required for each hour of the watch, four for steering, the weather and lee helmsman being relieved every two hours, eight for the chains. The uniform time for heaving the lead, by which is ascertained the depth of water, is one hour, but as circumstances alter cases, it was found necessary on our fishery cruises to reduce the time one-half. So intense was the cold that each man upon entering the chain would bathe his hands in warm grease, provided for the purpose of enabling him to heave the lead. Here is a little story in connection with this 'trick.' Two men agreed one night to toss up a penny and to decide thereby as to which of them should do the full hour, in order that one of them might be relieved from his work--for, be it said, unless there are yards to trim, or sails to furl or set, the watch on deck can lie down to rest, but under no circumstance is any seaman allowed to go below until the four hours are expired. However, after a little parleying, they came to the conclusion that each would do his own 'trick.' Accordingly one did his duty, and was awaiting, to be relieved by the other, but not a trace of him could be discovered for some time, until at length he was found sleeping behind a large gun. This man then told his mate, by way of explanation, that he had had a dream in which he dreamt they both tossed up and he had won, and that therefore the one wanting relief was to do the hour's trick.

When daylight dawns the 'look-out' is transferred from the topgallant forecastle to the forecross trees, or, if sail is set, to the foretopsail yard. Many an hour have I spent, from time to time, on the topsail yard, often sick and giddy, when the ship has been rolling and dipping. Thoughts of home would gather in my mind, and there aloft, where no human eye could see, have I cried aloud, giving vent to my pent-up feelings. Sick, I say, yes, and bareheaded, using my cap for a sanitary purpose, rather than get into trouble by being sick overt the sails.

At 9 a.m. is the inspection of uniform, followed by prayers. Should it be Tuesday or Thursday, rifles and cutlasses are inspected, and each man is supposed to wear his boots. This to many is hateful. In my watch was a man named Timothy Hennesy, who on 'small-arm' days would bind with spun-yarn his big toe, thereby giving the inspecting officer the impression he had hurt it, and was in consequence excused from wearing his boots.

Following this inspection, one watch goes below to make or mend their clothes, and the other remains on deck until noon. Dinner is piped, but it is not very tempting to one's appetite. Salt pork or beef with preserved potatoes form the menu. Spending the greater part of the three years at sea, our share of salt food was abundant, and in order to prevent scurvy, lime-juice was distributed.

After this meal the watches change again, the forenoon watch below going on deck until 4 p.m., the other remaining below.

I once endeavoured to make me a flannel. The stitches I must confess, were long and irregular; but worse than that, when attaching the sleeves to the main part, I misplaced end for end, so that when I came to try on this novel garment the wide part hung in bights around my wrist, the narrow part fitting tightly round my arm. So much for my reversed sleeves. No more sowing engaged my time in the watch below.

At 4 p.m. tea is piped. It consists of a basin of tea minus milk, and a small allowance of hard biscuit. Food being so scanty in the navy, the sailors apply this appellation to their mess, 'The Drum,' thus signifying that as far as food is concerned the mess is as empty as a drum. "Which drum do you belong to?" they ask.

Half an hour being allowed for tea, then another inspection of the crew in night clothing takes place. Sail drill is then engaged in for a couple of hours, and the routine of the day is brought to an end by the washing of clothes.

At twilight the look-out man is called down from the mast-head, and takes up his position on the forecastle, the bow lights being lit at the same time. Hammocks are hung up at 7.30 p.m., and supper is indulged in, which the messes buy at the canteen, none being provided by the Admiralty.

The life of a sailor boy is a very unpleasant one in a seagoing ship. Early in the morning he has to take his hammock on deck to undergo the inspection of the ship's corporal, who, before the boy is allowed to stow it, satisfies himself it is lashed up in the uniform manner. Then follows the inspection of knees and elbows, and should any boy not be clean, the others are deputed to scrub him. Next comes the climbing of the mast-head. These are but three of the many inconveniences he has to suffer until such time as he is rated O.D. or ordinary seaman.

Every one knows that discipline and cleanliness go hand in hand on board our men-of-war. In fact the latter is carried to an absurd extreme. From four to six in the early morning, it is almost impossible watch below to snatch a little sleep, as immediately over their heads are men scrubbing, or holystoning the upper deck. I fail to see that "cleanliness is next to godliness" under such circumstances.

Saturday is essentially a cleaning day, and nothing is overlooked. Decks are made as white and clean as possible, cables are whitewashed, guns are burnished; in short, everything appears brand new. The captain's inspection takes place every Sunday morning. So particular was our captain that he would never hesitate to descend into magazines to inspect every little corner, although the whitewash on the sides of these small rooms rubbed against his uniform at each movement.

It was ever a great load removed from the mind of the petty officer who had charge of flats and certain parts of the deck when his inspection was over. But if fault had been found great was their fear.

The payment of the crew, as in all ships, took place on the first day of each month. "Hands to muster for payment, soap and tobacco!" would shout the boatswain's mate. Any man was at liberty to forego the last two items, or the whole three for that matter. As a rule, however, most of the crew took up their money and bar of soap--two very needful requisites, the non-smokers preferring their two shillings in lieu of the two pounds of tobacco the value of which was deducted from the next month's payment.

The First Newfoundland Cruise

Now for the first fishery cruise. Halifax was our next port of call after leaving Bermuda. Halifax seemed dear to us after we had paid our first visit there, the reason being rather a curious one. Bum-boat men were wont to visit the ships with large quantities of sausages, which were quickly bought up, being regarded as a luxury. I have seen the cook's galley crowded with seamen frying these sausages, and on several occasions a sentry was placed to prevent a crush. Halifax! Sausages! The two names were synonymous to our crew, and even to-day I cannot partake of sausages without my thoughts wandering off to Halifax. Who can tell the laws of mental association! It was here that I first saw the present Prince of Wales, who then was in command of the gun-boat 'Thrush.' Ere leaving this port each man of the three fishery ships was served out with a pair of sea-boots and warm underclothing, in preparation for the intense cold we should feel on the Newfoundland and Labrador coasts. I understand the Canadian Government were responsible for this, kindly distribution. We left for St. John's, Newfoundland, and this port was our headquarters for the next few months. In cruising around the island from time to time, the most awe-inspiring sights were the ice-bergs and ice-fields which we passed day by day. Forteau Bay, the place where the gun-boat 'Lily' was wrecked, was pointed out to me. Sad to relate, we lost a shipmate on this voyage. Scudding along one morning under a fair wind with all sail set, and the crew cleaning guns, suddenly there arose the cry "Man overboard! Away lifeboat!" The order was "Heave to!" The poor fellow, however, had sunk beneath the sea almost instantly. The water being so bitterly cold it was supposed the cramp seized him. He, at the time of the accident, was outside the ship cleaning the muzzle of a gun, when she gave a lurch which overbalanced him into the sea. No frivolity was there that day, or for the ensuing week, amongst the crew. The unhappy event had a moral effect upon us all, and a deep solemnity prevailed.

Leaving the fisheries, bound for Bermuda, we called at Halifax to return loan-stores, such as our boots and warm clothing. Arriving at Bermuda, our ship was put in the floating dock and overhauled preparatory to our second visit to the West Indies. Here again we spent our second Christmas. Just a word about it. Christmas day in the navy is recognised as the day of days. Even the ordinary routine is reversed, so that instead of the seamen pumping water, and sweeping decks, and similar duties, the petty officers do it. Then, I may say, nothing is overlooked in the way of choice victuals. Each man, as Christmas approaches, contributes to the caterer of his mess, so that no luxury may be lacking on Christmas day. Added to this, the canteen allowed each man six shillings, and this of course meant several pounds to each mess. Stint is a foreign word to most naval men, and Christmas-tide is a demonstration of this fact.

Messes emulate each other as to decorations. Many crafty and dexterous men are there in all our ships who take a delight in this kind of work: they also vie with each other as to the quality of their plum puddings. Time would fail to tell you the ingredients with which they are made. This I know, that if one 'duff' should contain an extra ingredient to any other, that same 'duff' is pronounced the best. The number of ingredients, then, forms the standard of judgment for naval plum puddings.

On this occasion a Dutch ship was lying near to the 'Emerald.' Most of the crew paid a visit on board, and having an abundance of good things, we welcomed them to enjoy them with us. To be sure no objection was raised on their part. Having thoroughly enjoyed their dinner, they exclaimed in broken English: "Good Engish Navy, we should dike to be in you navy to have food dike dis--we git no good dhings dike dese." Poor souls! evidently they understood we had at all times a similar mid-day meal, but this belief would have been contradicted by experience had they sat to dinner with us within three days. The Dutch sailors grew fond of us, and we of them, and this bond of social friendship was created on Christmas day, which I think was rather unique, as it fulfilled the spirit of the words:--

"Peace on earth, goodwill to men."

On the fisheries the captain had met with an accident, and was granted six weeks' leave at Bermuda. It being noised abroad that both he and his lady were coming on board at Christmas to inspect the decorations, special interest therefore was taken in the same, and the decorators excelled themselves in their art, far beyond the limit of the previous year's display. No pains were spared, no time begrudged to make everything as beauteous as possible. I have a secret notion that although the captain had not been on board for several weeks, being an invalid ashore, that such lovely decorations were not altogether a manifestation of sympathy on the part of the crew toward him, but rather the motive power, or the cause, of which the decorations were the effect, lay in the fact that his lady was accompanying him. That explains it. A word to the wise is sufficient.

The idlers' mess made an artificial fountain. It was surrounded with huge stones and dripping moss, and several spouts were in full play. It was most certainly a work of skill.

All hands were on the watch for the approach of the steam launch bearing the two distinguished visitors. Presently she hove in sight, and also another from the 'Bellerophon' bringing the Admiral of the Fleet. In a short time the three were inspecting the lower deck. In each mess stood the cook, holding on a plate a piece of plum pudding for them to taste. As they entered each compartment pop-guns were fired as a salute.

Over one mess were inscribed these words:--

"Sir Baldwin's proved a noble man Around the coast of Newfoundland, And we hope the Queen will make him K.C.B."

When the inspection was over the boatswain's mate piped--"Clear lower deck: hands cheer Captain and his lady," and ere the two had reached the upper deck, the drum and fife band played

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet