"I think I never beheld a finer sight in my life than the sailing of our fleet from Spithead. It consisted of about seventy-five sail. The Diadem led the way; and the Active brought up the rear. We had made about four leagues, when, to our great sorrow, our Commodore fired a gun as a signal to put back to St Helens, not thinking it prudent to put to sea, the wind not being very favourable. The 14th, we lay at anchor. The 15th, our Commodore early in the morning fired a gun for to get under weigh, which we immediately did. But we were again obliged to put back to St Helens, not being able to weather the land. The 16th, at anchor as before. The 17th, it blew a heavy gale, drove us from our anchorage, and carried us down almost as far as Spithead. The same day we were nigh being run foul of by an Ostend vessel, which had also broken from her anchor. I never experienced such a gale before, and, indeed, it rather astonished the old seamen, especially at this time of year. The wind is still contrary. I hope we shall soon leave this disagreeable place, which is worse than Spithead. Captain Alcock, who, I told you, has the military command of the Neptune, is really a worthy man, and has behaved to me, since he has been on board, with the greatest friendship and civility. He is more like a father to me than a commanding officer. He knows all the officers in our regiment, and has promised to introduce me, but more particularly to those whom he thinks it proper for a young man to associate with. Captain Alcock's younger brother is in my regiment, and is the oldest captain in it; he says that his brother will always stand my friend. I think I cannot be better off than I am at present. I am very well and happy in having met with such a worthy fellow as Captain Alcock. He has not been married above two months. His wife is a charming and agreeable woman, and we are all very comfortable together."
The fleet got away from St Helens on the 22nd August, but was overtaken by another gale, and had to run for Portland Bay, where the ships were forced to shelter until the 8th September. By that time the bay had become filled with ships bound for various parts of the world, the West India fleet of transports amongst them, and at length the wind showed signs of being favourable for departure. Yet, as Sam Rice's next letter shows, luck was all against them, and a few days later the ships turned about and anchored in Torbay.
Writing from Torbay on the 17th September he describes what had happened—
"We left Weymouth on the 8th, the wind being in our favour. I believe never so large a fleet sailed from that place before, or ever will again. We were no less than two hundred sail in number. Many were the people who assembled to see us depart, and I do not in the least doubt but that the sight was highly worth seeing. We passed by this port, where we saw the Grand Fleet lying at anchor, and we little thought then that we should be obliged to go in. In a very short time we cleared the Land's End and steered on our course for Gibraltar. We had nearly reached the Bay of Biscay, when, to our great surprise, a frigate came up and spoke our Commodore, upon which a signal was made for us all to bear homewards as fast as possible. You may be sure we were all thunderstruck at this uncommon proceeding, and were not a little vexed at the thought of returning after having made so much way. The next morning we passed by the Scilly Islands, and from thence bore away as fast as possible for this place, where we are safely riding with the Grand Fleet. The frigate above mentioned had been sent by Lord Howe, who, having had intelligence that the French fleet was not far off, and consisted of thirty-two sail of the line and nine frigates, very prudently, and fortunately for us, dispatched a frigate immediately with orders for us to return with all possible expedition. I was at first very much vexed at returning, but am now rejoiced to think that we have been fortunately saved from the rapacious claws of the French 'Sans culottes.'[8] I hear we have taken Toulon, with a great deal of shipping, but that we have had bad success before Dunkirk.[9] Three regiments are gone from the garrison of Gibraltar to Toulon; so, if any regiments go to the West Indies, ours most probably will be one. Our men are now in a sad condition; we have now three hospital ships, and all full of men with fevers. Several have died, and, no doubt, more will, if they continue much longer on board a ship. It is thought that we shall sail with Lord Howe's fleet, but that is at present quite uncertain."
Eventually, after having put back no less than nine times altogether, the transports succeeded in getting away, and reached Gibraltar in November, when Ensign Rice and his two hundred recruits joined the 51st. He found war the one topic of conversation, and the prospects of the regiment proceeding on active service being freely discussed. He learned now the true story of Toulon, which, although actually in the occupation of a British and allied force, had not been "taken with a great deal of shipping," but had been peacefully garrisoned at the request of the Royalist (or Girondist) inhabitants. Admiral Hood, who had brought his fleet to the Mediterranean, was cruising up the coast from Gibraltar, when he received a message from the Royalist Admiral at Toulon, asking him to co-operate in the defence of that place against the Republicans (or Jacobins), and to hold it until the monarchy should be restored. Hood agreed, and on the 27th August, troops having been sent from Gibraltar, and a Spanish squadron having joined the British fleet, the Admiral took possession of the forts and the many men-of-war in the harbour—amounting to not less than one-third of the navy of France. He at once dismantled the ships, and removed such of the sailors as were known to favour the Republican cause, and he then sought assistance from the Spanish, Neapolitan, and neighbouring Allies who, in the course of time, sent him some 12,000 men. This mixed force, with 2000 British troops under General O'Hara, essayed to protect Toulon from the ravages of the Republicans, who soon arrived—to the number of 25,000—to besiege the place, and by November became so active that General O'Hara sent to Gibraltar for reinforcements.
The 50th and the 51st, which, for some weeks, had been standing ready to go to the relief of the garrison of Toulon, at once embarked (December 5), and young Rice considered himself in luck's way in being called upon to take the field so soon after joining. Ill-fortune, however, still dogged his footsteps, for the captains of the transports delayed for three days in putting to sea, thus losing a fair wind, so that it was not until the 29th that the regiment arrived off Toulon, when it learned that the place had been evacuated in haste ten days before, the garrison having made an unsuccessful sally, in which General O'Hara was severely wounded and captured. Finding that the garrison was now too weak to hold the town against the vastly superior numbers of the Republican forces, Lord Hood set fire to as many as possible of the French ships in the harbour, blew up powder and stores, successfully embarked the British garrison, as well as nearly 15,000 Royalists, who feared for their safety when the Republicans should enter the town, and sailed for Hyères Bay[10] (a little to the east of Toulon), where, on the 31st December, the transports conveying the 50th and 51st joined the fleet—to be received very coldly by the Admiral.
But Lord Hood's disappointment at the lateness of their arrival was no greater than that of the officers of the reinforcing regiments. That Toulon should have been abandoned, and that their prospects of honour and glory should have been torn from them by no fault of their own was bad enough, but, to make matters worse, the 51st lost all their regimental baggage and stores, including everything belonging to the officers, which had been placed on a separate vessel for conveyance to Toulon. Sam Rice, a philosopher even in those days, refers to this minor trouble very briefly. "The officers' and the regimental baggage," he wrote, "went into Toulon in the Moselle frigate,[11] which separated from the transports during the night and did not know that the town was evacuated, because the English flag was kept flying. You see we military gentlemen are subject to losses as well as the rest of the world." And the loss both to officers and the men was severe, for their colonel had been at great pains to stock the ship with everything that the regiment could want.