Chapter I: My Boyhood, and Entrance Into the Navy (1)

YOUNGER BRANCH SUCCEEDS TO EARLDOM.—ALIENATION OF FAMILY ESTATES.—MY
FATHER’S SCIENTIFIC PURSUITS.—HIS RUINOUS MANUFACTURING PROJECTS.—A
NEGLECTED DISCOVERY.—COMMUNICATED TO JAMES WATT.—LORD DUNDONALD’S
AGRICULTURAL WORKS STILL HELD IN ESTIMATION.—EARLY REMINISCENCES.—MY
FIRST VISIT TO LONDON.—MY FATHER DESTINES ME FOR THE ARMY.—A
COMMISSION PROCURED.—MY AVERSION TO THE MILITARY PROFESSION.—OUR
RETURN TO SCOTLAND.—I AM PERMITTED TO ENTER THE NAVY.

My birth is recorded as having taken place on the 14th of December, 1775, at Annsfield in Lanarkshire. My father was Archibald, ninth Earl of Dundonald; my mother, Anna Gilchrist, daughter of Captain Gilchrist, a distinguished officer of the Royal Navy.[16]

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Footnote 16:

One action of my maternal grandfather is worthy of record. On March
28th, 1758, upwards of a century ago, he commanded the _Southampton_,
32, and when in company with the _Melampe_, 24, Captain Hotham, fell
in with two French frigates off Yarmouth. The _Melampe_, being the
faster sailer, came up first, and was so disabled that she fell astern
before the _Southampton_ got within range. On the _Melampe_ falling
off, one of the frigates made sail, and got away. The _Southampton_
then engaged the other, and after a six hours’ contest, carried on
with equal bravery on both sides, she boarded and captured the
_Danaë_, of 40 guns and 340 men, commanded by one of the bravest
officers in the French navy.

The loss of the _Danaë_ was her first and second captains, and eighty
men killed. The _Southampton_ had only one killed and ten wounded;
amongst whom was my grandfather, whose shoulder was shattered by a
grape-shot.

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My father was descended from John, the younger son of the first earl—noticed in the introductory chapter as the compatriot of Argyll. On default of issue in the elder branch of the family the title devolved on my grandfather, Thomas, who married the daughter of Archibald Stuart, Esq., of Torrence, in Lanarkshire, and had issue one daughter and twelve sons, the most distinguished amongst whom, in a public capacity, was Admiral the Honourable Sir Alexander, father of the present Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane.[17]

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Footnote 17:

Thomas Cochrane, eighth Earl of Dundonald, was a major in the army,
and M.P. for Renfrewshire. He died in 1778, at the age of
eighty-seven, and was married, first, to Elizabeth, daughter of James
Kerr, Esq. of Moris Town, Berwickshire, by whom he had two children,
Thomas, who died young, and a daughter, Grizel, who died unmarried.

By his second countess, he had issue—1. Argyle, died in infancy; 2.
Archibald, my father, died in 1823; 3. Charles, a colonel in the army,
killed in 1781, at York Town, in Virginia, during the American war of
Independence; 4. John, died in 1802; 5. James Athol, rector of
Mansfield in Yorkshire; 6. Basil, in the civil service of the East
India Company; 7. and 8. Thomas and George, died young; 9. Alexander
Forrester, Knight of the Bath, and rear-admiral in the navy; 10. ——,
died young; 11. George Augustus Frederick, M.P. for Grampound; 12.
Andrew, also M.P. for Grampound, who, on his marriage, assumed the
surname of Johnstone, and was the father of the present dowager Lady
Napier, relict of the late Lord Napier; 13. Elizabeth, married to
Patrick Heron, Esq. of Heron.

The issue of my father, Archibald, ninth Earl of Dundonald, was as
follows: 1. myself; 2. a daughter, died young; 3. James, died young;
4. Basil, lieutenant-colonel of the 36th Regiment; 5. William Erskine,
major in the 15th Light Dragoons, my only surviving brother; 6.
Archibald, captain in the Royal Navy; 7. Charles, died young.

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Some of my father’s earlier years were spent in the Navy, in which he became acting lieutenant. A cruise on the coast of Guinea gave him a distaste for the naval profession, which, in after years, postponed my entrance therein far beyond the usual period. On his return home he quitted the navy for a commission in the army, which was, after a time, also relinquished.

Of our once extensive ancestral domains I never inherited a foot. In the course of a century, and before the title descended to our branch, nearly the whole of the family estates had been alienated by losses incurred in support of one generation of the Stuarts, rebellion against another, and mortgages, or other equally destructive process,—the consequence of both. A remnant may latterly have fallen into other hands from my father’s negligence in not looking after it, and his unentailed estates were absorbed by expensive scientific pursuits presently to be noticed. So that my outset in life was that of heir to a peerage, without other expectations than those arising from my own exertions.

My father’s day was that of Cavendish, Black, Priestley, Watt, and others, now become historical as the forerunners of modern practical science. Imbued with like spirit, and in intimate communication with these distinguished men, he emulated their example with no mean success, as the philosophical records of that period testify. But whilst they prudently confined their attention to their laboratories, my father’s sanguine expectations of retrieving the family estates by his discoveries led him to embark in a multitude of manufacturing projects. The motive was excellent; but his pecuniary means being incommensurate with the magnitude of his transactions, its object was frustrated, and our remaining patrimony melted like the flux in his crucibles; his scientific knowledge, as often happens, being unaccompanied by the self-knowledge which would have taught him that he was not, either by habit or inclination, a “man of business.” Many who were so, knew how to profit by his inventions without the trouble of discovery, whilst their originator was occupied in developing new practical facts to be turned to their advantage, and his consequent loss.

An enumeration of some of my father’s manufacturing transactions, extensively and simultaneously carried on, will leave no doubt as to their failure in a pecuniary sense. First, the preparation of soda from common salt, as a substitute for _barilla_,—till then the only alkali available for soap and glass making. Secondly, a manufactory for improvement in the production of _alumina_, as a mordant for silk and calico printers. Thirdly, an establishment for preparing British gum as a substitute for _gum Senegal_, these products being in use amongst calico-printers to the present day; the latter especially being at that distant period of great utility, as the foreign gum was scarce and expensive. A fourth manufactory had for its object the preparation of _sal ammoniac_. At a fifth was carried on the manufacture of _white lead_, by a process then new to productive science. A sixth establishment, on a ruinous scale as compared with his resources, was for a new process of extracting tar and other products from pit-coal; the former as an effective agent in protecting timber from decay, whilst the refuse coke was in request amongst ironfounders, whose previous operations for its manufacture were wasteful and unsatisfactory.[18]

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Footnote 18:

Whilst serving on the west coast of Africa, my father remarked the
destructive ravages made on ships’ bottoms by worms, and, from his
chemical knowledge, it occurred to him that an extract from pit-coal,
in the form of tar, might be employed as a preventive of the evil. On
his return home, the experiment was tried, and found to answer
perfectly. Notwithstanding the subsequent refusal of the Admiralty to
make use of his preservative, it was at once adopted by the Dutch and
elsewhere in the North, and in the case of small coasting vessels is
to this day used in our own country, as less expensive than coppering.
Had not the coppering of vessels become common shortly afterwards, the
discovery must have proved of incalculable value.

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After this enumeration, it is unnecessary to dilate on its ruinous results. It is simply the old adage of “too many irons in the fire.” One by one his inventions fell into other hands, some by fair sale, but most of them by piracy, when it became known that he had nothing left wherewith to maintain his rights. In short, with seven children to provide for, he found himself a ruined man.

In the present state of manufacturing science, by which the above objects are accomplished through improved means, the mention of such matters may, at first sight, appear unnecessary. Yet, seventy years ago they bore the same relation to the manufacturing processes of our time as at that period did the crude attempts at the steam engine to its modern perfection. In this point of view—which is the true one—reference to my father’s patents, though now superseded by improvements, will fairly entitle him to no mean place amongst other inventors of his day, who deservedly rank as benefactors to their country.

One of my father’s scientific achievements must not be passed over. Cavendish had some time previously ascertained the existence of hydrogen. Priestley had become acquainted with its inflammable character; but the Earl of Dundonald may fairly lay claim to the practical application of its illuminating power in a carburetted form.

In prosecution of his coal-tar patent, my father went to reside at the family estate of Culross Abbey, the better to superintend the works on his own collieries, as well as others on the adjoining estates of Valleyfield and Kincardine. In addition to these works, an experimental tar-kiln was erected near the Abbey, and here coal-gas became accidentally employed in illumination. Having noticed the inflammable nature of a vapour arising during the distillation of tar, the Earl, by way of experiment, fitted a gun-barrel to the eduction pipe leading from the condenser. On applying fire to the muzzle, a vivid light blazed forth across the waters of the Frith, becoming, as was afterwards ascertained, distinctly visible on the opposite shore.

Strangely enough, though quick in appreciating a new fact, Lord Dundonald lightly passed over the only practical product which might have realised his expectations of retrieving the dilapidated fortunes of our house; considering tar and coke to constitute the legitimate objects of his experiments, and regarding the illuminating property of gas merely as a curious natural phenomenon. Like Columbus, he had the egg before him, but, unlike Columbus, he did not hit upon the right method of setting it on end.

The incident just narrated took place about the year 1782 and the circumstances attending it are the more vividly impressed on my memory from an event which occurred during a subsequent journey with my father to London. On our way we paid a visit to James Watt, then residing at Handsworth, near Birmingham, and amongst other scientific subjects discussed during our stay were the various products of coal, including the gas-light phenomenon of the Culross Abbey tar-kiln. This gave rise to some interesting conversation, which, however, ended without further result.

Many years afterwards, Mr. Murdoch, then one of Watt’s assistants at Soho, applied coal-gas to the illumination of that establishment, though even with this practical demonstration its adoption for purposes of general public utility did not keep pace with the importance of the fact thus successfully developed, until, by the persevering endeavours of Mr. Winsor, its advantages overcame prejudice.[19]

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Footnote 19:

A paper on the “Utility and Advantages of Gas-lights,” written by Mr.
Murdoch, and transmitted by him to Sir Joseph Banks, was read before
the Royal Society on the 25th of February 1808, detailing the lighting
of Messrs. Phillips and Lee’s manufactory at Manchester, and
describing the process of gas-manufacture. In this paper Mr. Murdoch
alludes to a memorial presented by Mr. Winsor to George III., pointing
out the utility of gas for lighting the public streets, &c.

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It is no detraction from Mr. Murdoch’s merit of having been the first to turn coal-gas to useful account, to infer that Watt might, at some period during the interval, have narrated to him the incident just mentioned, and that the fact accidentally developed by my father had thus become the subject of long and careful experiment; for this must have been the case before the complete achievement shone forth in perfection. Mr. Murdoch, so far as I am aware, never laid claim to a discovery of the illuminating property of coal-gas, but to its useful application only, to which his right is indisputable. As it is not generally known to whom an earlier practical appreciation of gas-light was in reality due, I have placed these facts on record.

One notice more of my father’s investigations may be permissible. To Sir Humphry Davy is usually ascribed the honour of first pointing out the relation between Agriculture and Chemistry. Reference to a work published in 1795, entitled “_A Treatise showing the intimate connection between Agriculture and Chemistry, by the_ EARL OF DUNDONALD,” will decide the priority. Davy’s work may in a theoretical point of view surpass that of my father, inasmuch as the analytical chemical science of a more modern date is more minute than that of the last century; but in point of patient investigation from countless practical experiments, my father’s work is more than equal to that of his distinguished successor in the same field, and is, indeed, held in no small estimation at the present time.[20]

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Footnote 20:

I may mention three points contained in this work, to the discovery of
which claim has been laid by modern writers, viz. the malting of grain
for the purpose of feeding cattle, the converting of peat moss into
good soil, and the benefit of a judicious use of salt refuse as a
manure; the latter suggestion being made by my father in a treatise
published in 1785, nearly seventy-five years ago. Other discoveries
might be enumerated, but from those adduced it will be seen that most
of my father’s experiments were far in advance of the age in which he
lived. With slight modifications only not a few rank as modern
discoveries, though little more than plagiarisms without
acknowledgment.

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The reader will readily pardon me for thus devoting a few pages by way of a tribute to a parent, whose memory still exists amongst my most cherished recollections; even though his discoveries, now of national utility, ruined him, and deprived his posterity of their remaining paternal inheritance.

During boyhood we had the misfortune to lose our mother[21], and as our domestic fortunes were even then at a low ebb, great difficulty was experienced in providing us with the means of education—four of us being then at an age to profit by more ample opportunities. In this emergency, temporary assistance was volunteered by Mr. Rolland, the minister of Culross, who thus evinced his gratitude for favours received in the more auspicious days of the family. Highly as was the offer appreciated, family pride prevented our reaping from it the advantage contemplated by a learned and truly excellent man.

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Footnote 21:

Anna, Countess of Dundonald, died at Brompton on the 13th of November
1784.

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Perceiving our education imperilled, the devotedness of my maternal grandmother, Mrs. Gilchrist, prompted her to apply her small income to the exigencies of her grandchildren. By the aid thus opportunely afforded, a tutor was provided, of whom my most vivid recollection is a stinging box on the ear, in reply to a query as to the difference between an interjection and a conjunction; this solution of the difficulty effectually repressing further philological inquiry on my part.

We were, after a time, temporarily provided with a French tutor, a Monsieur Durand, who, being a Papist, was regarded with no complacent eye by our not very tolerant Presbyterian neighbours. I recollect this gentleman getting into a scrape, which, but for my father’s countenance, might have ended in a Kirk Session.

As a matter of course, Monsieur Durand did not attend church. On one side of the churchyard was the Culross Abbey cherry-garden, full of fine fruit, of which he was very fond, as were also the magpies, which swarmed in the district. One Sunday, whilst the people were at church, the magpies, aware no doubt of their advantage, made a vigorous onslaught on the cherries—provoking the Frenchman, who was on the watch, to open fire on the intruders from a fowling-piece. The effect of this reached farther than the magpies. To fire a gun on the Sabbath was an abomination which could only have emanated from a disciple of the Scarlet Lady, and neither before nor after did I witness such a hubbub in the parish. Whatever pains and penalties were to be found in Scottish church law were eagerly demanded for Monsieur Durand’s benefit, and it was only by my father’s influence that he was permitted to escape the threatened martyrdom. Annoyed at the ill-feeling thus created, he relinquished his engagement before we had acquired the rudiments of the French language.

Even this inadequate tuition was abruptly ended by my father taking me with him to London. His object in visiting the metropolis was to induce the Government to make use of coal-tar for protecting the bottoms of inferior ships of war—for in those days copper sheathing was unknown. The best substitute—by no means a general one—was to drive large-headed iron nails over the whole ship’s bottom, which had thus the appearance of being “hobnailed.” Even this indifferent covering was accorded to superior vessels only, the smaller class being entirely left to the ravages of the worm. It was for the protection of these small vessels that my father hoped to get his application adopted, and there is no doubt of the benefit which would have resulted had the experiment been permitted.

But this was an innovation, and the Board of Admiralty being then, as too often since, opposed to everything inconsistent with ancient routine, refused to entertain his proposal. It was only by means of political influence that he at length induced the Navy Board to permit him, at his own expense, to cover with his composition one side of the buoy at the Nore. The result was satisfactory, but he was not allowed to repeat the process. As compared with the exposure at that time of ships’ bottoms to rapid destruction, without any effort to protect them, my father’s plan was even a greater improvement than is the modern substitution of copper-sheathing for the “hobnail” surface which it tardily superseded.

Failing to induce the Government to protect their ships of war, he applied to the mercantile interest, but with no better success. I remember going with my father to Limehouse, in the hope of inducing a large shipbuilder there to patronise his composition; but the shipbuilder had even a greater horror of innovation than the Admiralty authorities. His reply was remarkable. “My Lord,” said he, “we live by repairing ships as well as by building them, and the worm is our best friend. Rather than use your preparation, I would cover ships’ bottoms with honey to attract worms!”

Foiled in London, my father set on foot agencies at the outports, in the hope of inducing provincial shipbuilders to adopt his preservative. Prejudice, however, was not confined to the metropolis, and the objection of the Limehouse man was everywhere encountered. Neither they, nor any artisans in wood, would patronise a plan to render their work durable.

Unsuccessful everywhere, my father turned his attention to myself. My destination was originally the army, whether accordant with my taste or not—for he was not one of those who considered it necessary to consult the inclinations of his children in the choice of a profession; but rather how he could best bring family influence to bear upon their future interests. Unfortunately for his passive obedience theory, my _penchant_ was for the sea; any hint, however, to this effect was peremptorily silenced by parental authority, against which it was useless to contend.

My uncle, the Hon. Captain, afterwards Admiral, Sir Alexander Cochrane, had the sagacity to perceive, that as inclination became more rooted with my growth, passive obedience on this point might one day come to an end. Still further, he was kind enough to provide against such contingency, should it arise. Unknown to my father, he had entered my name on the books of various vessels under his command; so that, nominally, I had formed part of the complement of the _Vesuvius_, _Carolina_, _La Sophie_, and _Hind_; the object—common in those days—being, to give me a few years’ standing in the service, should it become my profession in reality.

Having, however, a relative in the army, who possessed influence at the Horse Guards, a military commission was also procured for me; so that I had simultaneously the honour of being an officer in his Majesty’s 104th Regiment, and a nominal seaman on board my uncle’s ship.

By way of initiation into the mysteries of the military profession, I was placed under the tuition of an old sergeant, whose first lessons well accorded with his instructions, not to pay attention to my foibles. My hair, cherished with boyish pride, was formally cut, and plastered back with a vile composition of candle-grease and flour, to which was added the torture incident to the cultivation of an incipient _queue_. My neck, from childhood open to the lowland breeze, was encased in an inflexible leathern collar or stock, selected according to my preceptor’s notions of military propriety; these almost verging on strangulation. A blue semi-military tunic, with red collar and cuffs, in imitation of the Windsor uniform, was provided, and to complete the _tout ensemble_, my father, who was a determined Whig partisan, insisted on my wearing yellow waistcoat and breeches; yellow being the Whig colour, of which I was admonished never to be ashamed. A more certain mode of calling into action the dormant obstinacy of a sensitive, high-spirited lad, could not have been devised than that of converting him into a caricature, hateful to himself, and ridiculous to others.

As may be imagined, my costume was calculated to attract attention, the more so from being accompanied by a stature beyond my years. Passing one day near the Duke of Northumberland’s palace at Charing-Cross, I was beset by a troop of ragged boys, evidently bent on amusing themselves at the expense of my personal appearance, and, in their peculiar slang, indulging in comments thereon far more critical than complimentary.

Stung to the quick, I made my escape from them, and rushing home, begged my father to let me go to sea with my uncle, in order to save me from the degradation of floured head, pigtail, and yellow breeches. This burst of despair aroused the indignation of the parent and the Whig, and the reply was a sound cuffing. Remonstrance was useless; but my dislike to everything military became confirmed; and the events of that day certainly cost His Majesty’s 104th Regiment an officer, notwithstanding that my military training proceeded with redoubled severity.

At this juncture, my father’s circumstances became somewhat improved by a second marriage[22], so that my brother Basil and myself were sent to Mr. Chauvet’s academy in Kensington Square, in order to perfect our military education—Basil, like myself, being destined for the army. At this excellent school we only remained six months; for with slightly increased resources my father resumed his ruinous manufacturing pursuits, so that we were compelled by the “_res angusta domi_” to return to Scotland.[23]

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Footnote 22:

My father’s second countess was Mary, daughter of Samuel Raymond,
Esq., and relict of the Rev. Mr. Mayne. This lady died, without issue,
in December 1808.

Footnote 23:

Lord Dundonald about this time entered upon a series of experiments
which, as usual, were productive of more benefit to his country than
himself, viz. an improved mode of preparing hemp and flax for the
manufacture of sailcloth. For this he subsequently took out a patent,
and submitted his process, together with samples of the manufacture,
to the Admiralty. So sensible was the Board of the advantages of the
plan, that it was subsequently stipulated in every contract that hemp
should be steeped and boiled in the way recommended in his lordship’s
patent. Since that period, the use of sailcloth so manufactured has
become general. Formerly, it was sold by weight, the worthless
material of which it was composed being saturated with a composition
of flour and whitening, so that the first shower of rain on a new sail
completely white washed the decks. Of so flimsy a nature were the
sails when this composition was washed out, that I have taken an
observation of the sun through the foretopsail, and brought it to a
horizon through the foresail.

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Four years and a half were now wasted without further attempt to secure for us any regular training. We had, however, during the short advantage enjoyed at Kensington, studied diligently, and were thus enabled to make some progress by self-tuition, our tutor’s acquirements extending only to teaching the rudiments to the younger branches of the family. Knowing that my future career depended on my own efforts, and more than ever determined not to take up my military commission, I worked assiduously at the meagre elements of knowledge within my reach, in the hope that by unremitting industry my father might be convinced that opposition to his views was no idle whim, but the result of conviction that I should not excel in an obnoxious profession.

Pleased with my progress, and finding my resolution in favour of the naval service unalterable, he at length consented that my commission should be cancelled, and that the renewed offer of my uncle to receive me on board his frigate should be accepted.

The difficulty was to equip me for sea, but it was obviated by the Earl of Hopetoun considerately advancing 100_l._ for the purpose. With this sum the requisite outfit was procured, and a few days placed me in a position to seek my fortune, with my father’s gold watch as a keepsake—the only patrimony I ever inherited.

The Dowager Countess of Dundonald, then meditating a journey to London, offered to take me with her. On our arrival in the metropolis, after what was at that time the formidable achievement of a tour through Wales, her ladyship went to reside with her brother, General James Stuart, in Grosvenor Street; but, anxious to become initiated in the mysteries of my profession, I preferred going on board the _Hind_ at Sheerness; joining that ship on the 27th of June 1793, at the mature age, for a midshipman, of seventeen years and a half.

CHAP. II.

CRUISE OF THE _HIND_.

A LIEUTENANT OF THE OLD SCHOOL.—HIS IDEAS ON SEA-CHESTS.—DOCKYARDS SIXTY
YEARS AGO.—PRIZE-MONEY, THE LEADING MOTIVE OF SEAMEN.—VOYAGE TO
NORWAY.—NORWEGIAN CUSTOMS.—A MIDSHIPMAN’S GRIEVANCES.—A PARROT
TURNED BOATSWAIN.—INEFFECTIVE ARMAMENTS.—MEN BEFORE
DOCKYARDS.—TRAINING OF OFFICERS.

My kind uncle, the Hon. John Cochrane, accompanied me on board the _Hind_ for the purpose of introducing me to my future superior officer, Lieutenant Larmour, or, as he was more familiarly known in the service, Jack Larmour—a specimen of the old British seaman, little calculated to inspire exalted ideas of the gentility of the naval profession, though presenting at a glance a personification of its efficiency. Jack was, in fact, one of a not very numerous class, whom, for their superior seamanship, the Admiralty was glad to promote from the forecastle to the quarter-deck, in order that they might mould into ship-shape the questionable materials supplied by parliamentary influence—even then paramount in the Navy to a degree which might otherwise have led to disaster. Lucky was the commander who could secure such an officer for his quarter-deck.

On my introduction, Jack was dressed in the garb of a seaman, with marlinspike slung round his neck, and a lump of grease in his hand, and was busily employed in setting up the rigging. His reception of me was anything but gracious. Indeed, a tall fellow, over six feet high, the nephew of his captain, and a lord to boot, were not very promising recommendations for a midshipman. It is not impossible that he might have learned from my uncle something about a military commission of several years’ standing; and this, coupled with my age and stature, might easily have impressed him with the idea that he had caught a scapegrace with whom the family did not know what to do, and that he was hence to be saddled with a “hard bargain.”

After a little constrained civility on the part of the first lieutenant, who was evidently not very well pleased with the interruption to his avocation, he ordered me to “get my traps below.” Scarcely was the order complied with, and myself introduced to the midshipman’s berth, than I overheard Jack grumbling at the magnitude of my equipments. “This Lord Cochrane’s chest? Does Lord Cochrane think he is going to bring a cabin aboard? The service is going to the devil! Get it up on the main-deck.”

The order being promptly obeyed, amidst a running fire of similar objurgations, the key of the chest was sent for, and shortly afterwards the sound of sawing became audible. It was now high time to follow my property, which, to my astonishment, had been turned out on the deck—Jack superintending the process of sawing off one end of the chest just beyond the keyhole, and accompanying the operation by sundry uncomplimentary observations on midshipmen in general, and on myself in particular.

The metamorphose being completed to the lieutenant’s satisfaction, though not at all to mine, for my neat chest had become an unshapely piece of lumber, he pointed out the “lubberliness of shore-going people in not making keyholes where they could be most easily got at,” viz. at the end of a chest instead of the middle! The observation was, perhaps, made to test my temper, but, if so, it failed in its object. I thanked him for his kindness in imparting so useful a lesson, and left him evidently puzzled as to whether I was a cool hand or a simple one.

Poor Jack! his limited acquaintance with the world—which, in his estimation, was bounded by the taffrail and the bowsprit—rendered him an indifferent judge of character, or he might have seen in me nothing but an ardent desire diligently to apply myself to my chosen profession—with no more pride in my heart than money in my pocket. A short time, however, developed this. Finding me anxious to learn my duty, Jack warmly took me by the hand, and as his only ideas of relaxation were to throw off the lieutenant and resume the functions of the able seaman, my improvement speedily rewarded my kind though rough teacher, by converting into a useful adjunct one whom he had, perhaps not unjustifiably, regarded as a nuisance. We soon became fast friends, and throughout life few more kindly recollections are impressed on my memory than those of my first naval instructor, honest Jack Larmour.

Another good friend in need was Lieutenant Murray, a son of Lord Dunmore, who observing that my kit had been selected rather with a regard to economy than fitness, kindly lent me a sum of money to remedy the deficiency.

The period at which I joined the service was that during which events consequent on the first French revolution reached a crisis, inaugurating the series of wars which for twenty years afterwards devastated Europe. Whatever might have been the faults of the British Government in those days, that of being unprepared for the movements of revolutionary neighbours was not amongst them, for the energy of the Government kept pace with the patriotism of the nation. That fearful system of naval jobbery, which unhappily characterised the subsequent progress of the war, crowding the seas with worthless vessels, purchased into the service in exchange for borough influence—had not as yet begun to thwart the unity of purpose and action by which the whole realm was at first roused into action.

With few of those costly appliances in the dockyards which at the present day absorb vast sums voted by the nation for the support of the navy, to the exclusion of its real strength—_trained men_—the naval ports presented a scene of activity in every way commensurate with the occasion by which it had been called into existence. Their streets abounded with seamen eager to share in anticipated prize-money—for whatever may be the ideas of modern statesmen on this subject, prize-money formed then, as it will ever form, the principal motive of seamen to encounter the perils of war.

On this point there is, at the present day, a tendency to dangerous doctrine; and a word respecting it will not be out of place. I have seen it openly proclaimed that seamen will fight for fighting’s sake, and without expectation of reward. If the propounders of such an opinion were to ask themselves the question, whether they engage in professional or commercial pursuits from pure patriotism, and without hope of further remuneration, their own reply would show them the fallacy of ascribing to seamen a want of those motives which impel all men to adventure and exertion. Human nature is the same in all its grades, and will remain so, despite romantic notions of its disinterestedness and patriotism. The result of my own experience is, that seamen fight from two leading motives: 1st. Prize-money; 2nd. From a well-grounded belief in their own physical and disciplinary superiority, which refuses to be beaten, and is not satisfied with less than conquest. Take away the first motive, and we may find difficulty, on an emergency, in getting men to accomplish the second.

The bounty system, which has superseded the press-gang, is a direct proof of money being admitted as the seaman’s inciting motive to engage in war. The press-gang itself was a no less decisive proof, for it rarely had to be resorted to, except in case of unpopular officers, inefficient vessels, or out-of-the-way stations, where the chances of prize-money were few. For ships commanded by well-known officers, and with a favourable chance of making prizes, the press-gang was unnecessary. This circumstance forms no indifferent comment on the real motives which induce seamen voluntarily to enter the service. On this most important subject more will be said hereafter.

To return to our cruise. The destination of the _Hind_ was the coast of Norway, to the _fiords_ of which country the Government had reason to suspect that French privateers might resort, as lurking-places whence to annoy our North Sea and Baltic commerce. To ascertain this was our primary object. The second was to look out for an enemy’s convoy, shortly expected from the West Indies by the northern route round the Orkneys.

We had not, however, the luck to fall in with either convoy or privateers, though for the latter every inlet was diligently searched. The voyage was, therefore, without incident, further than the gratifying experience of Norse hospitality and simplicity; qualities which, it is to be feared, may have vanished before the influence of modern rapidity of communication, without being replaced by others equally satisfactory.

To us youngsters, this Norwegian trip was a perpetual holiday, for my uncle, though a strict disciplinarian, omitted no opportunity of gratifying those under his command, so that we spent nearly as much time on shore as on board; whilst the few hours occupied in running along the coast from one inlet to another supplied us with a moving panorama, scarcely less to our taste than were the hospitalities on shore.

Our great amusement was sleighing at racing speed, to the musical jingling of bells, without a sound from the catlike fall of the horse’s feet on the snow. Other variations in the routine of pleasure, were shooting and fishing, though these soon became secondary objects, as the abundance of fish and game rendered their capture uninteresting.

But the principal charm was the primitive aspect of a people apparently sprung from the same stock as ourselves, and presenting much the same appearance as our ancestors may be supposed to have done a few centuries before, without any symptoms of that feudal attachment which then prevailed in Britain. I have never seen a people more contented and happy; not because their wants were few, for even luxuries were abundant, and in common use.

Much, however, cannot be said for Norwegian gallantry at that period. On one occasion my uncle took me to a formal dinner at the house of a magnate named Da Capa. The table literally groaned beneath the feast; but a great drawback to our enjoyment of the good things set before us, was that, during a five hours’ succession of dishes, the lady of the house stood at the head of the table, and performed the laborious duty of carver throughout the tedious repast. Her flushed countenance after the intervals between the various removes, moreover, warranted the suspicion that the very excellent cookery was the result of her supervision. It is to be hoped that the march of civilisation has altered this custom for the better.

It is possible that these remarks may be considered somewhat profound for a midshipman of three months’ standing; but it must be remembered that, from previous hard necessity, no less than maturity, they are those of a reflective midshipman. At any rate, the remarks were duly jotted down, and to this day their reperusal calls forth somewhat of the freshness of boyhood to a mind worn down, not so much with age as with unmerited injuries, which have embittered a long life, and rendered even the failings of age premature.

From boyish impressions to a midshipman’s grievances is but a step. At the first moment of my setting foot on board the _Hind_ it had been my determination never to commit an act worthy of punishment; but it was equally the determination of Jack Larmour to punish me for my resolution the first time he caught me tripping. This was certain, for Jack was open and above board, and declared that “he never heard of such a thing as a faultless midshipman!” For a long time he watched in vain, but nothing occurred more than to warrant his swearing twice as much at me as at any other of my messmates, Jack never troubling himself to swear at a waister. To use his own words, it “was expending wind for nothing.”

One day, when his back was turned, I had stolen off deck for a few minutes, but only to hear on my return the ominous words, “Mast-head, youngster!” There was no alternative but to obey. Certainly not cheerfully—for the day was bitterly cold, with the thermometer below zero. Once caught, I knew my punishment would be severe, as indeed it was, for my sojourn at the mast-head was protracted almost to the limit of human endurance, my tormentor being evidently engaged in calculating this to a nicety. He never mast-headed me again.

By way of return for the hospitality of the Norwegian people, the frigate was freely thrown open to their inspection. On one of their frequent visits, an incident occurred not unworthy of record.

On board most ships there is a pet animal of some kind. Ours was a parrot, which was Jack Larmour’s aversion, from the exactness with which the bird had learned to imitate the calls of the boatswain’s whistle. Sometimes the parrot would pipe an order so correctly as to throw the ship into momentary confusion, and the first lieutenant into a volley of imprecations, consigning Poll to a warmer latitude than his native tropical forests. Indeed, it was only by my uncle’s countenance that the bird was tolerated.

One day a party of ladies paid us a visit aboard, and several had been hoisted on deck by the usual means of a “whip” on the mainyard. The chair had descended for another “whip,” but scarcely had its fair freight been lifted out of the boat alongside, than the unlucky parrot piped “_Let go!_” The order being instantly obeyed, the unfortunate lady, instead of being comfortably seated on deck, as had been those who preceded her, was soused overhead in the sea! Luckily for Poll, Jack Larmour was on shore at the time, or this unseasonable assumption of the boatswain’s functions might have ended tragically.

On the return of the _Hind_ from Norway, my uncle was appointed to the _Thetis_, a more powerful frigate; for though the _Hind_ carried 28 guns, they were only 9-pounders; an armament truly ridiculous as compared with that of frigates of the present day. It may almost be said, that the use of such an armament consisted in rendering it necessary to resort to the cutlass and boarding-pike—weapons to be relied on. Had such been the object of the Board of Admiralty as regarded the smaller class of frigates, it could not have been better carried out. The lighter class of vessels were even worse provided for. Seven years later a sloop was placed under my command, armed with 4-pounders only. One day, by way of burlesque on such an equipment, I walked the quarter-deck with a whole broadside of shot in my coat pockets.

The _Thetis_ was ordered to equip at Sheerness, and knowing that her first lieutenant, instead of indulging himself ashore, would pursue his customary relaxation of working hard aboard, I begged permission to remain and profit by his example. This was graciously conceded, on condition that, like himself, I would put off the officer and assume the garb of a seaman. Nothing could be more to my taste; so, with knife in belt and marlinspike in hand, the captain of the forecastle undertook my improvement in the arts of knotting and splicing; Larmour himself taking charge of gammoning and rigging the bowsprit, which, as the frigate lay in dock, overhung the common highway. So little attention was then paid to the niceties of dockyard arrangement.

Dockyards in those days were secondary objects. At Sheerness the people lived, like rabbits in a warren, in old hulks, hauled up high and dry; yet everything was well done, and the supervision perfect. It would be folly to advocate the continuance of such a state of things, yet it may be doubted whether the naval efficiency of the present day keeps pace with the enormous outlay on modern dockyards, almost (as it appears to me) to ignoring the training of men. I would rather see a mistake in the opposite extreme—men before dockyard conveniences; and am confident that had such been our practice, we should not have recently heard humiliating explanations, that we were without adequate naval protection, and that our national safety depended on the forbearance of a neighbouring state.

Precision in stone and mortar is no more naval efficiency, than are the absurd coast fortifications (to which there is an evident leaning) national safety. The true fortification of England is, always to be in a position to strike the first blow at sea the moment it may become necessary. To wait for it would, under any circumstances, be folly—to be unprepared for it, national suicide.

The service now seems to savour too much of the dockyard, and too little of the seaman. Formerly, both officers and men had to lend a hand in everything, and few were the operations which, unaided by artificers, they could not perfectly accomplish. On two occasions my own personal skill at pump-work has saved ships and crews when other assistance was not available.

The modern practice is to place ships in commission, with everything perfect to the hands of the officers and crew, little being required of them beyond keeping the ship in order whilst at sea. The practice is to a certain extent praiseworthy; but it has the disadvantage of impressing officers with the belief that handicraft skill on their part is unnecessary, though in the absence of practically acquired knowledge it is impossible even to direct any operation efficiently.

Without a certain amount of this skill, as forming an important part of training, no man can become an efficient naval officer. It would be gratifying to me should these remarks lead to inquiry on the subject. I must confess my inability to peruse the accounts of inexperience in the fleet at the outbreak of the late war with Russia, without grave misgivings that the supervision of the navy in the present day is not that of old time.

CHAP. III.

THE VOYAGE OF THE _THETIS_.

VOYAGE IN THE THETIS.—ICEBERGS.—I AM MADE ACTING LIEUTENANT.—I AM
ORDERED TO JOIN THE THETIS.—PASS EXAMINATION FOR LIEUTENANT.—CAPT.
COCHRANE’S CAPTURE OF FRENCH STORE-SHIPS.—MY APPOINTMENT TO THE
RESOLUTION.—ADMIRAL WINTERS IN THE CHESAPEAKE.—AN UNDIGNIFIED
ENCOUNTER.—A DINNER ASHORE.—HARSH TREATMENT OF THE AMERICANS.—THEIR
COMPLAINTS.—RETURN OF THE THETIS TO ENGLAND.

As soon as the _Thetis_ had obtained her complement, she was ordered to join the squadron of Admiral Murray, which was being fitted out for North America; whither, soon after the declaration of war against England by the French Convention, the Government had despatched orders to seize the islands of St. Pierre and Miguilon, previously captured from the French in 1778, but restored at the termination of the American war.

It was in order to regain these islands, and for the protection of our commerce and fisheries generally, that a stronger force on the Nova Scotia station was deemed essential. The conduct of the American people was doubtful, as, from the assistance rendered by the French in the War of Independence, and still more from the democratic institutions recently established in France, little doubt existed that their leaning would be upon the side of the enemy. The United States Government, however, did all in its power to preserve neutrality by proclamations and addresses, but as its authority was little more than nominal throughout the various states, a disposition on the part of American shipowners to assist the French in providing stores of every kind was manifested very soon after the declaration of war. On our return from Leith to Plymouth to join the admiral, we detained several American vessels laden with corn and other provisions for French ports; one of the objects of Admiral Murray’s squadron being to intercept traffic of this nature.

The squadron sailed from Plymouth; and when about midway across the Atlantic an incident occurred worth relating, as bearing upon a conjecture made a few years ago, by the master and passengers of a merchant vessel, regarding some vessels, supposed, though erroneously, to form part of Sir John Franklin’s expedition.

One night, finding the temperature of the atmosphere rapidly decreasing, the squadron was proceeding under easy sail, with a vigilant look-out for icebergs. At dawn we were close to a block of these, extending right across our path as far as the eye could reach. The only alternative was to alter our course and pass to leeward of the group, to which, from the unwonted sublimity of the sight, we approached as nearly as seemed consistent with safety. The appearance of icebergs is now so well known that it would be superfluous to describe them. I shall only remark that on passing one field of great extent we were astonished at discovering on its sides three vessels, the one nearest to us being a polacca-rigged ship, elevated at least a hundred feet; the berg having rolled round or been lightened by melting, so that the vessel had the appearance of being on a hill forming the southern portion of the floe. The story of two vessels answering the description of Sir John Franklin’s ships having a few years ago been seen on an iceberg was scarcely credited at the time, but may receive corroboration from the above incident.

Nothing can exceed the extraordinary aspect of these floating islands of ice, either as regards variety of form, or the wonderful display of reflected light which they present. But, however they may attract curiosity, ships should always give them a wide berth, the in-draught of water on their weather side being very dangerous. A singular effect was experienced as we passed to leeward of the field; first, the intense cold of the wind passing over it, and occasionally, the heat caused by the reflection of the sun’s rays from the ice whenever the ship came within the angle of incidence.

On our arrival at Halifax we found many American vessels which had been detained, laden with corn and provisions. These had been seized by our predecessors on the station, the act by no means tending to increase our popularity on subsequent visits along the United States coast. Another practice which was pursued has always appeared to me a questionable stretch of authority towards a neutral nation, viz. the forcible detention of English seamen whenever found navigating American ships. Of this the Government of the United States justly complained, as inflicting severe losses on their citizens, whose vessels were thus delayed or imperilled for want of hands.

The practice was defended by the British Government, but on what grounds I am not jurist enough to comprehend. Certain it is, that should another Continental war arise, such a course would be impracticable; for as American ships, whether of war or commerce, are now for the most part manned by British seamen, driven from the service of their country by an unwise abrogation of that portion of the navigation laws which fostered our own nursery for the Navy—the effect of such an order would be to unman American ships; and it is questionable whether the United States Government would submit to such a regulation, even if we were inclined to put it in execution.

On the 14th of January 1795, Admiral Murray appointed me acting third lieutenant of the _Thetis_, though not eighteen months had elapsed since my entrance into the service. Thanks to my worthy friend Jack Larmour, and to my own industry, it may be stated, without vanity, that I was not incompetent to fill the station to which the admiral had promoted me. This unlooked-for reward redoubled my zeal, and on the 13th of April following, I was made acting lieutenant of the _Africa_, Captain Rodham Home, who applied to the admiral for my services. This additional promotion was followed on the 6th of July by a provisional commission confirming my rank.

The _Africa_ was sent to scour the seaboard of the States in search of enemy’s vessels, but not falling in with any, we ran on to Florida, with similar ill-success. An accident here occurred to me which left its mark through life. I had contrived a ball of lead studded with barbed prongs, for the purpose of catching porpoises. One day the doctor laid me a wager against hurling the missile to a certain distance, and in the attempt a hook nearly tore off the fore-finger of my right hand. A perhaps not very judicious course of reading had at that time led me to imbibe the notion of a current spurious philosophy, that there was no such thing as pain, and few opportunities were lost of parading arguments on the subject. As the doctor was dressing my hand, the pain was so intense that my crotchet was sadly scandalised by an involuntary exclamation of agony. “What!” said the doctor, “I thought there was no such thing as pain!” Not liking to have a favourite theory so palpably demolished, the ready reply was that “my exclamation was not one of pain, but mental only, arising from the sight of my own blood!” He laughed, whilst I writhed on, but the lesson knocked some foolish notions out of my head.

On the 5th of January 1796, the first lieutenant of the _Thetis_ having been promoted, an order was transmitted for me to quit the _Africa_, and rejoin my uncle’s ship, which I did in the _Lynx_, Captain Skene. An incident occurred during the passage worth relating.

The _Lynx_ one day overhauled an American vessel from France to New York, professedly in ballast. At first, nothing was found to warrant her detention, but a more minute search brought to light from amongst the shingle ballast, a number of casks filled with costly church plate; this being amongst the means adopted by the French Convention to raise supplies, an intention in this case thwarted by the vigilance of Captain Skene.

The sagacity of Captain Skene was exemplified in another instance. Observing one day a quantity of stable litter on the surface of the sea, it was obvious that it could only arise from the transport of animals. Tracking the refuse to the southward, we overtook and captured a vessel laden with mules for the use of one of the French possessions.

The period having arrived at which the Admiralty regulations permitted young officers to offer themselves for examination—on rejoining the _Thetis_ I was ordered up, and passed for lieutenant accordingly; my time as a midshipman being made up from my nominal rating on board the _Vesuvius_, &c., as narrated in a former chapter.

The mention of this practice will, perhaps, shock the purists of the present day, who may further regard me as a stickler for corruption, for pronouncing its effect to have been beneficial. First, because—from the scarcity of lieutenants—encouragement was often necessary; secondly, because it gave an admiral a power which he does not now possess, viz. that of selecting for commissions those who exerted themselves, and on whom he could rely, in place of having forced upon him young men appointed by parliamentary or other influence; of whom he could know nothing, except that they did not owe their commissions to practical merit.