A LESSON IN SEAMANSHIP.
An interesting gift was made to the ship about this time, being no other than the spectacles worn by Captain Marryat. The donor was Mr. Oscar de Satagé, who was a godson of the great naval novelist.
Many reflections are suggested by these relics. Marryat probably wore them while he wrote some of his novels. Do any of those amazing scenes which he so graphically describes still linger in the lenses? Shall we, if we put them on, be able to see Mr. Midshipman Easy strutting about with the Articles of War under his arm, and laying down the law to his superiors, or murmuring, “Duty before decency” as the unlucky Mr. Biggs stands trouserless on the gangway? Or [!-- original location of full page illustration --] [!-- blank page --] shall we see that marvellous picture, dear to every seaman, presented in “Peter Simple,” where the Diomede just weathers the point, and her courses fly in shivers as she scrapes clear? Well, well, if they were known to have such properties, those spectacles, it is to be feared, would not last long!
A TYPICAL FOURTH TERM GROUP: “PASSING OUT” CADETS, 1893.
Photo: Smale & Son, Dartmouth.
Another gift to the Britannia in the ’nineties was the magnificent model of the ill-fated Victoria, made for the Naval Exhibition of 1891, and presented by Messrs. Armstrong and Co. It fills up one side of the model room, and must have taken some getting in there; but sailors do not stick at trifles: if you confronted them with a camel and a needle, they would immediately set to work to rig the necessary tackle for “reeving” the camel through the eye.
The Britannia did not escape discussion in the papers during the ’nineties. On January 10th, 1891, a correspondent, under the pseudonym of “Blue Jacket,” starts the question of the cadets’ food, stating that he understands it is far from satisfactory, and inquires whether it is as good as they had in their former schools.
“A. L. M.,” a former Britannia boy, says he always found the food good and abundant—and he ought to know.