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.