The right wing were all on board (except some married officers and their families) when each company were shown their berths and mess-tables, after which stowing of knapsacks commenced; the ship's officers were busily engaged telling off the women and children to their berths in the after part of the ship. On the upper deck everything was in confusion; the ship's steward was getting his fresh supply of provisions on board for the voyage, and the sailors stowing away in coops and pens, hens, ducks and sheep; at last the deck was cleared, and things put ship-shape. The rolls being called and all reported present, the watches were then told off. The captain walking the quarter-deck, the sailors and soldiers man the capstan, and the band ready to play, with a stiff breeze off the land. At 3 o'clock p.m. the captain gave the order to weigh anchor, when the band struck up "Rule Britannia," the sailors and soldiers keeping time to the music, manning the capstan. As the anchor was tripped, the sails were unfurled, and we ran out of the harbour, amid cheers from the shore and shipping in the harbour, and were soon bowling along with a stiff breeze on the bow (N.W.). The men were served out with hammocks and one blanket, one tin plate, one panakin to each man, one meat dish, one soup can for each mess; every mess had brought their own pudding clothes. At five the tea bugle sounded, when the orderly men repaired to the cook's-galley for the tea, and served it out in the messes. After tea the men went on deck to smoke, chat, and wonder if they were going to be sea-sick. At five thirty the ration bugle sounded, when the orderly men proceeded to draw rations for next day, which consisted of salt pork and beef, on alternate days, biscuits, flour, raisins, currants, tea, sugar, cocoa, vinegar, mustard, pepper and salt; they made the plum-pudding for dinner, tied it up ready to boil after breakfast next day—so you see Her Majesty cares for her gallant soldiers. The ship was skimming along with a stiff breeze on the starboard bow, all sails set. At six o'clock the boatswain piped down hammocks, when they were all swung, and as the last post sounded at nine o'clock, they all managed to crawl into them. I was on watch from eight to twelve; the wind had been increasing during the evening. I also observed the sky had an angry appearance; the sailors were all busily at work securing every sail and making all taut. The wind had changed in the night and was now blowing hard in our teeth; it was a case of tacking, and for landsmen a very trying affair; all night it blew a gale, the wind still from the same quarter; in the night the sailors had to shorten sail several times, each time the ship was brought round on the other tack with a tremendous lurch, and mess tins, water kegs, and tin dishes were dashed to the other side in frightful confusion. My watch being relieved, I turned in at twelve, and with all the pitching and tossing I slept soundly until I was awoke by the orderly sergeant turning out the men to get their hammocks stowed on deck. When I went on deck to put my hammock in the place appointed, the wind was still blowing hard; I had to hold on to keep my footing; the whole sea was alive, wave chasing wave and bounding over each other crested with foam. Now and then the ship would pitch her nose into the waves even to the bulwark, and dash the billows aside, and buoyantly rise again, bowling along at ten knots an hour though under moderate sail. Breakfast at eight o'clock of hard sea biscuits and cocoa; but many were on their backs in sea-sickness. After breakfast all hands were ordered on deck except the orderly men, who kept the mess in order and prepared the meals. The wind was still very high and the long swells began to tell on the men; the figure-head plunging as usual deeply into the water, and the heads of some of our men hanging in agony over the gunwale and portsill, in the horrors of sea-sickness.
At the sound of the grog bugle at twelve, they all sprightened up, and very few were absent from their half-gill of rum and two waters. When the dinner of salt-beef and plum pudding was served, most of them made appearance. After dinner the sun had shown through the clouds, and the men gathered in groups on deck to smoke and chat. The progress of the ship was a subject of interest; it was the first thing in the morning and the last at night; and all through the day the direction of the wind, the state of the sky, the weather, and the rate we were going at, were the uppermost topics of the conversation. The ship was bounding along very fast, and it was a fine sight to look up at the clouds of canvas bellied out by the wind like the wings of a gigantic bird, while the ship rushed through the water, dashing it in foam from her bows, and always dipping her figure-head into the waves, sending up a shower of spray. There was always something exciting in the ship, and the way in which she was handled astonished us soldiers; for instance, to see the top-gallant sails hauled down when the wind freshened, or a stay-sail set as the wind went round to the east. The hauling in of the mainsail on a stormy night was to be remembered for a life-time; twenty-four sailors on the main-yard at a time, clewing in to the music of the wind whistling through the rigging. The sailors sing out cheerily at their work, the one who mounts the highest or stands the foremost on the deck usually taking the lead, thus—they cheer up—
"Haul in the bowlin',
I love you, Mary Nolan,
Haul in the bowlin',
Rollin' yo, heave ho."
In comes the rope with a jerk until the "belay," sung out by the mate, signifies that the work is right. Then there is a rush on the deck when the wind changes, and the yards are to be squared as the wind comes more aft. Being relieved at twelve I turned in and slept well until four o'clock, when I was awoke by the watch holystoning the deck, under the charge of the officer of the watch. I need scarcely explain that the holystone is a large, soft stone, used with water for scrubbing the decks. It rubs down with sand. The sand is washed off by water from the hose, the pump being worked by four men, a man directing the nozzle of the hose into every crevice; the force of the water washing every particle of dirt from the hen-coops, sheep-pens and decks. The watch always wash decks in their bare feet, their trowsers turned up above their knees. After the decks are well washed down with water from the hose, they are dried with swabs, and the deck looks as white as a tablecloth; the boards brighten with the work, not a grease-mark or spot of dirt is to be seen; all polished off with hand scrapers; the ropes all neatly coiled man-of-war fashion, not a bight out of place, and the brass-work polished and shining—hard work before breakfast. By six o'clock the decks are all clean and dry and everything looking neat; at nine o'clock the doctor ordered all the women and children on deck; the sun shone through the clouds and all was pleasant, the ship running along with close-reefed canvas. At sundown the wind changed round on her larboard quarter from the north-west, and we were making good progress across the Bay of Biscay; we were getting accustomed to the motion of the ship, and many of the officers and men assembled on deck until a late hour watching our course and looking for our port. On Sunday morning the wind was blowing a gale; during the twenty-four hours we made 190 miles.
At ten o'clock we were all assembled on the main deck for Divine service, which was read by the captain of the ship; the day was fine with a stiff breeze; we were running before the wind at the rate of ten knots an hour; we had slept well all night. Going on deck next morning, I found the wind strong from the north, and the ship going through the water at a splendid rate; as much sail was on her as she could carry, and she was dashing along, leaving a broad track of foam in her wake. There is no resting, but a constant pushing onward; and, as we look over the bulwark, the waves tipped by the foam which the ship has raised seem to fly behind us at a prodigious speed. At ten next morning we found the ship's run during the twenty-four hours had been 200 miles—a grand day's work, nearly equal to steam. We ran well before the breeze all night, until about six in the morning, when the wind changed to our starboard bow, and heavy dark clouds appeared in the distance, and the wind dropped almost to a calm, the sails flapping against the mast all day and night.
Next morning the sailors were busy securing ropes and getting everything ready; they said this calm was but weather breeding, and predicted that we were to have a change. The glass was falling, and we were to look out for squalls. They were not disappointed in their morning's expectations of a gale. Before morning we had it in earnest.
We, novices in sea life, thought we had a severe storm on Friday night, but the sailors only laughed at us when we spoke of it. In our hammocks below we knew that the wind was blowing a gale, that the ship was pitching and tossing about fearfully, and could hear the boatswain's whistle, and the sailors aloft reefing sails, and the waves breaking clean over the deck above us. At two o'clock in the morning a heavy sea struck our starboard side. The concussion seemed like striking against a rock; some were thrown clean out of their hammocks; women and children thrown from their berths, crockery smashed and boxes rattled, trunks, water kegs, tin dishes, plates, pails, and every moveable article was dashed with violence from one side of the ship to the other.