The usual grog bugle sounded at twelve, when every man made his appearance. At six in the evening the wind fell away altogether. This repose after that fearful storm was an unspeakable blessing; all that had been fury was now tranquillity; it appeared to us a sign of peace; we could let go the rope or stay we were holding on by; the women and children could stand upright and straighten themselves, and walk and move about; we felt ourselves inexpressibly happy in the depths of this heavenly change. All night was almost a dead calm, and it was a blessing; we all slept well after the awful pitching and tossing we had had the last three days. In the morning when I went on deck the sails were flapping, and not a breath of wind. After breakfast the women and children were ordered on deck, when the lower decks were thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned, and when dinner bugle sounded they were allowed to go below. After dinner the upper deck was washed and cleaned. Toward evening the wind changed to our starboard and began to freshen; towards morning we were running before the wind at nine knots an hour. At ten o'clock a.m., I was agreeably surprised when I heard a sailor from the masthead cry out, Land, ho! I found by our captain's eyes that the land lay off our weather beam, but though I strained my eyes looking for the land, I could see nothing. It was quite an hour before I could find it, and then it looked more like a cloud than anything else. At length the veil lifted, and I saw the land stretching away to the eastward, as we neared it, and saw it more distinctly. It looked a glorious object to us soldiers, though we were then ten or twelve miles off, yet the highest peaks, which were above the clouds, some hundreds of feet high, were so clear that they looked as if they had been stolen out of the "Arabian Nights," or some fairy tale of wonder and beauty.
The bluff and lofty headland of Cape St. Vincent, with its sharp detached rock, white light-house, and adjacent convent skirting the edge of the precipice, was the first land that I saw, as the ship bounded upon our glorious waters of Trafalgar bay. All on board were quite recovered of their sea-sickness, as the ship glided across wide bays and along the indented coast of Spain. The ship had soon studding-sails set, and she swept onward like some large bird of prey towards the straits. Tarifa, famous in martial story with its low, flat-roofed houses, backed by barren-looking, sun-scorched hills, was passed and all eyes were turned on the tremendous scragged outline of the African coast rising several thousand feet above the sea. The hazy morning light added to the effect, throwing out in relief the broad stone face and picturesque form of Ape's Hill, streaked with shadowy fissures, crevices and indentations, which the scorching sun failed to touch. But the Spanish side of the straits, through which the blue Mediterranean now became visible, engrossed the larger share of our attention. There stood the bold rock of Gibraltar, rearing its bald crest to the sky, a fit sentinel at the gate of those waters which lave the shores of fallen, but once mighty empires, now the key and glory of Old England. The ship now hoisted her flags, which were immediately noticed at the signal station, on the loftiest part of the range, where a flag-staff is visible against the sky. Some of our officers who were on the rock before, with the help of their telescope could trace many an old haunt. They knew every path on those craggy heights. There was the town behind the old Moorish walls, looking the same as ever; there was the Alameda, the convent, and many other familiar domiciles, peeping from amogst shrubberies and gardens.
At five p.m. we cast anchor in the harbour of Gibraltar, when the ship was besieged with bumboats of vendors in oranges, dates, lemons, figs, and luxuries of almost every kind. Soon after a boat with a yellow flag approached the ship; it was the health officer, who made inquiries of our doctor as to sickness on board, and was answered "All right, No sickness but sea-sickness," when he returned to shore, and afterwards a staff officer appeared who informed the captain that he had got "pratique," when the order to disembark at once was given.
CHAPTER XII.
THE LANDING—BARRACKS—GARRISON DUTY—OLD NORTH FRONT—SMUGGLING—MARKET—QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY—THE DINNER—SPEECHES—THE ROUTE—THE MARCH—EMBARKATION FOR THE CRIMEA—THE PARTING—THE VOYAGE—ARRIVAL AT MALTA.
May 13th, 1854, at 6 p.m., the right wing formed in open column of companies, right in front, on the New Mole, after a very rough passage from Queenstown, and considering how the men were knocked about, they looked remarkably clean and well. The band and pipers of the 92nd Highlanders met us at the New Mole, and played alternately during the march to the Casemate Barracks, where we were quartered, followed by a crowd of Rock Scorpions, a motley crowd of English, Irish, Spaniards, Italians, Jews, and Moors. Several soldiers from the garrison welcomed us, and seemed pleased to see a fresh regiment arrive to share their military duties. By two o'clock next day the "Dunbar" arrived with the left wing. They landed at three o'clock and joined headquarters at the Casemate Barracks, number six company proceeding to Catalan Bay on detachment.