Joined the Berwick in April 1793, Sir John Collins, Knight, captain, fitting in Portsmouth Harbour for the Mediterranean, and in May sailed with a division of the fleet under the Vice-Admiral Lord Hood, who had his flag on board the Victory, 100. On the passage the squadron captured a corvette. We arrived at Gibraltar, Vice-Admiral Hotham’s Division in company, and having taken in our water sailed for Toulon. When off Minorca we fell in with the Spanish fleet under Don Langara on a cruise. To the best of my recollection our fleet consisted of twenty sail of the line besides frigates, but several men of war joined after.
[The list of the fleet which follows has no authority, and has been frequently printed.]
When near Toulon Lord Hood made the signal to prepare for battle, and also the signal for a general chase which ended in the capture of the corvette L’Éclair. Saw the enemy’s fleet at anchor in the inner and outer roads. When sent in to reconnoitre, they would allow us to come as near as we liked; but the moment the ship was put about their forts would blaze away with red-hot shot; and we in the Berwick had nearly got into an awkward situation, which I shall speak of hereafter. In July while cruising off Toulon the fleet encountered a tremendous gale, and the old Berwick, who always bore the name of a bad sea boat, proved it on this occasion with a vengeance. First the bowsprit went, about two feet before the outer gammoning; bore up, and got the runners and tackles forward to secure the foremast. At daylight made the signal of distress, and parted company from the fleet. The rigging being new, it became so slack that we were obliged to set it up, with a very heavy sea running, which was done in a seaman-like manner; but mark what follows. After the lower rigging was set up, and while before the wind, the main sail, of all sails in the world, was set, and the ship hove to slap at once, by which she was nearly thrown on her beams ends. The main yard went in the slings, the main topmast and half the main top carried away, the fore mast sprung in two places, and the mizen mast in three; of the main-top men of one watch, seventeen in number, one was killed, another drowned, and several of the others severely hurt, but by falling on the splinter netting were fortunately saved. The wreck of the main yard had nearly knocked two ports into one on the main deck, while that of the main topmast got under the counter, damaged the copper, and had almost unshipped the rudder before it could be cleared, which was done with great difficulty. It is a fact that the ship rolled sixteen or eighteen feet of her fore yard in the water,[[85]] and laboured so dreadfully that on our arrival in port the oakum was found to have worked so much out of the seams, particularly under the counter, that it was astonishing we succeeded in reaching Gibraltar. I must also mention that the force of the wind was so great that it burst the lashings[[86]] of the jolly boat lying on the booms, and blew the boat away like a feather. So much for the Gulf of Lyons. I do not mean to throw blame on any one, but I cannot help thinking that the ship was somehow or other badly handled, to say nothing of her being a bad sea boat; and if she had not been as strong as wood and iron could make her, must certainly have paid a visit to Davy Jones’ locker.
We remained at Gibraltar several weeks in the New Mole, and enjoyed ourselves by going up to the old Porter house on Scud Hill[[87]] of an evening, and sometimes to the Junk Ships and the Swan; and then cruise about the town, which is not deficient in places of amusement. It was here I first observed the march of intellect; a fellow, whose name was Anthony Strico and kept a wine house, had over his door in large letters,
Tono Strico
Wino Houso.[[88]]
After the ship was refitted we proceeded to join the fleet at Toulon which had surrendered to Lord Hood during our absence. While off Minorca we were taken in a thundering squall that had almost done for the old Berwick a second time. Next day, fell in with a Spanish frigate dismasted; gave her some assistance which she seemed to want, as they appeared to be deficient in nautical knowledge, or, in other words, the vilest set of lubbers that ever were seen. They positively did not know how to get a jury mast up. On our arrival at Toulon we found Lord Hood with the British fleet and Don Langara with the Spanish; also some Neapolitan men of war. Landed our soldiers, which were part of the 69th regiment of foot doing duty as marines. Plenty of fighting going on in every direction, the Princess Royal and some other ships keeping up a constant fire against the enemy’s lines to prevent them throwing up batteries. We had some pleasant trips in our launch in carrying a load of eighteen and thirty-two pound shot to supply the Princess Royal while she was engaging, the shot from the enemy flying more than half a mile beyond us. Fortunately we escaped without injury. One of the lower-deck guns on board the Princess Royal or St. George—I forget which—burst and killed nine men and wounded twenty-seven.[[89]] We remained but a short time at Toulon, and then sailed to join Commodore Linzee at Tunis.
We had a delightful passage running along the Italian shore with a fine view of Elba, Gorgona, Pianoza, Monte Christo, Capraja, etc.
For here the muse so oft her harp has strung,
That not a mountain rears its head unsung.—Addison.