Stood over for Sardinia and put into Cagliari, the capital, where we found Commodore Linzee and squadron.
October 22, 1793.—Went on shore and dined in company with the Sardinian admiral and several great men of the island, who were very intelligent and gave us an account of the attack made by the French squadron, who were beaten off with loss (according to their account) of 5,000 men.[[90]] Visited the city, which has a university, and went to some of the convents to purchase articles from the nuns. Found the friars a set of jolly fellows who behaved to us with great civility, not only in this place but in every other port in the Mediterranean that we put into.
October 25.—Sailed from Cagliari in quest of some French frigates, but had not the good fortune to fall in with them. During the cruise before we put into Cagliari and joined the commodore, we fell in with six sail of the line who, not answering the private signal, were taken for a French squadron. It being late in the evening we made all sail and stood from them; they gave chase the whole of the night, but only two could come up with us, and they took good care not to come alongside, and well for them they did not; all our guns were loaded with round and double-headed shot, and our 68-pounders on the forecastle were crammed with grape and canister, and our fellows (two thirds of them Irish) were determined to give them a lesson that would never be forgotten. This they seemed to anticipate, as they kept hankering on the quarter until morning, when they hoisted Spanish colours; one of them sent a boat on board of us.
The officer seemed astonished when he saw our men at quarters, their black silk handkerchiefs[[91]] tied round their heads, their shirt sleeves tucked up, the crows and handspikes in their hands, and the boarders all ready with their cutlasses and tomahawks, that he told Sir John Collins they put him in mind of so many devils.
After the cruise we put into Tunis, and found lying there the Duquesne, French 74; and higher up in the bay, near the Goletta, her convoy, consisting of fifty sail of merchantmen with valuable cargoes; also the Spanish squadron mentioned above. Commodore Linzee with the following men of war anchored close to the Frenchman, and the Agamemnon near their convoy:—
| Alcide | 74 | Commodore Linzee; Captain Woodley |
| Berwick | 74 | Captain Sir John Collins |
| Illustrious | 74 | Captain T. L. Frederick |
| Agamemnon | 64 | Captain Horatio Nelson |
| Lowestoft | 32 | Captain Cunningham[[92]] |
| Nemesis | 28 | Captain Lord Amelius Beauclerk |
I must here mention that the Yankee-doodle[[93]] James in his Naval History takes no notice of this expedition, which is to be wondered at as the ‘Sea Serpent’ was never backward in finding fault, and here he missed a good opportunity. The Agamemnon and Lowestoft were sent, as I have stated, to watch the convoy, and the three seventy-fours anchored one abreast, another on the bow, and one on the quarter of the Duquesne, ready to bring her to action, and six sail of the line (Spanish) to assist in this great undertaking; but all this mighty preparation came to nothing. The cargoes were safely landed from the convoy; and the Duquesne, after laughing at us for several weeks and singing the Marseilles hymn morning and evening, with the English jack spread over her round house, got under way, and arrived safe at Toulon, which had been evacuated by the fleet and army; and all this because Tunis was a neutral port. Now everybody knew that before the squadron sailed, and also that Tunis was nothing less than a nest of thieves; besides, we were out of gunshot of their forts and might have taken the whole with the greatest ease imaginable.
We had a rugged-headed, squint-eyed boatswain’s mate, who early one morning passed the word for all those who were quartered on the main deck to come below and fight the lower-deck guns. He was instantly obeyed, and the people of their own accord were absolutely going to bring the French 74 to action, and the above boatswain’s mate as the head of the party was in the act of setting the example, when the second lieutenant snatched the match out of his hand just as he was going to fire. Lord Nelson, who commanded the Agamemnon, happened to come on board soon after, and when this was told him he seemed quite pleased: ‘For then,’ says he, ‘we must have taken them.’ If he had commanded, we certainly should have taken them,[[94]] and not have stayed wasting our time for months in the bay doing nothing.
Our squadron used to water near the Goletta, a small channel leading to the ancient harbour of Carthage, fortified on each side and a chain across. On the left of this channel they have a gun with marble shot of immense size; the diameter of the bore twenty two inches and a half. On the other side are a few wells dug in the sand, from which the squadron got their water. On one occasion I went in the launch to fill our casks, a messmate of mine (the present Captain Valobra) taking a trip with me; having given directions about filling, I proposed to cross the Goletta (which has a drawbridge over it) and take a look at the large fort they have close by. On getting into the interior, which is a square, we saw a door open and went into what appeared a guard room, from the number of arms tastefully arranged about the walls, and several Turks rolled up in blankets lying on the floor. Having examined the place we were going away, when one of the Turks, as I approached the door, caught hold of me by the collar and pushed me back. I did not relish this and tried to make the blackguard understand, but all to no purpose. However, I again made a movement to get out, when a young Turk, with a short stick that had something round like a ball fixed to the end of it, made a blow at my head which would certainly have done for me had I not stepped back in time. We had left our side arms in the launch and had nothing to defend ourselves against this ruffian. One of the Turks we heard say ‘Spagniolle!’ upon which Valobra called out ‘Angleise!’ Whether this had the effect to liberate us I know not; but an old withered Turk came up, and after a deal of altercation with the fellow who struck at me, he pointed to the door and showed us the way out, and glad enough we were of it. Having filled our casks we returned on board (the rascally Turks pelting us with stones as long as we were in reach), and made a complaint to Sir John Collins, who went on shore the next day to represent the business to the commandant of the fort, and this vagabond had the impudence to say we might think ourselves well off that we were not sent up the country and made slaves. Went with Lieutenant Shirley to see the ruins of Carthage.... Saw several remains of antiquity, broken columns, underground passages, pieces of frieze, and the remarkable arches supposed to be the stables of the elephants. I went into a room like a cellar and got a piece of the flooring, of beautiful green and white marble, which I brought home; but some thief in England stole it from me—the devil do him good with it. The ground about the ruins was covered with reptiles of almost every description, which made it dangerous to explore. I carried a piece of frieze several miles intending to bring it home also, but was obliged to leave it from fatigue. As Lieutenant Shirley, who was very tired, sat on a broken column, I observed it might have been the same that Caius Marius rested on when in exile and from which he made this memorable reply (to show the instability of human greatness) to him that was sent by the governor to warn him off: ‘Go,’ says he, ‘and say that thou hast seen Caius Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage.’
A short time before we left Tunis the bey sent a present to the squadron, of bullocks, butter, poultry, scented candles and some otto of roses. We in the cockpit had some butter, poultry, and a scented candle or two; as for the otto of roses we could smell it near the wardroom, but not a drop could we see in the cockpit. However, we were more regaled with the scent of a seapie, made in a pitch kettle that contained, besides other delicacies, upwards of thirty fowls. We sat round the cauldron in the cockpit, like the witches in ‘Macbeth,’ and would not have exchanged this glorious mess for all the otto of roses belonging to the bey or his ministers. At the same time, the devil thank some people for their kindness in not paying the compliment; they might have sent us one small bottle to counteract the bilge water; but never mind; they, poor souls, are all dead; and most of us are alive notwithstanding. As for the butter, it was only fit to grease the topmasts, and for that purpose we resigned it. We had a few of the candles, made of beeswax and scented.