The bullocks were very small, and here I must relate a droll circumstance. Our purser’s steward was one that dearly loved grog, and it so happened that on the day the bullocks were slaughtered, he got beastly drunk. Some of the midshipmen seeing him in that situation in the first watch, lying near the steward room, agreed to sew him up in one of the bullocks’ hides, which was accordingly done. The horns being on, were fixed to a nicety on his head and fastened under the chin, firm as a rock. A little before twelve he came to himself and got up (for his legs and arms were free) and tried to get into the steward room, but the key was secured. He then began to bellow, just as the quartermaster came down to call the watch, and was knocking his horns against the bulk head, his tail near the cockpit ladder. The quartermaster, holding up his lantern, looked at him for some time in amazement; at last, letting it fall, he took to his heels, swearing that the devil was in the cockpit; while those who slept abaft on the lower deck jumped out of their hammocks and followed his example. ’Twas a most laughable sight; particularly so when the officer of the watch came down to see what was the matter and, evidently under the influence of fear, did not venture down the cockpit ladder until one of the midshipmen came up and said it was Colquhoun, the steward, transformed into a bullock. It had a good effect on the steward, as he was afraid ever after to bouse his jib up; and whenever he put his head up the cockpit ladder, those on the lower deck would sing out, ‘What’s become of your horns?’
Left Tunis for Porto Farino to get a supply of water for the fleet. The plague had made great ravages before our arrival, but had in some measure abated. This place is a Turkish arsenal, and several of their men of war were fitting out. A number of Neapolitan slaves were at work in the different storehouses; some of them could speak English, and gave us an interesting account of the conduct of their masters. I saw an old Turk, upwards of seventy, with a long stick in his hand thrashing several of the poor wretches. I could not refrain from telling him he was a damned old scoundrel; whether he understood or not, I cannot say, but he called out repeatedly, ‘Esau, Esau’; and Lieutenant Shirley bawling in his ear, ‘Will you have Isaac and Jacob also?’
Porto Farino is situated near the mouth of the Bagrada,[[95]] where Attilius Regulus, the Roman consul, lay encamped in the first Punic war, when the serpent attacked and destroyed several of his soldiers who came to the river to obtain water.... The ancient city of Utica, famous for the death of Cato in the civil war, was at no great distance from this port.
A short time before we sailed the Turkish governor paid a visit to the ship, with his retinue, among whom was the Turkish admiral—a fine looking fellow near seven feet high. We saluted the governor with eleven guns, and he minutely inspected every part of the ship and seemed highly delighted with the bread room, and also with the 68-pounders we had on the forecastle. One of his attendants spoke English, and said he was in England at the time the Foudroyant was captured by the Monmouth,[[96]] and that he lived at Wapping. We suspected he was an Englishman although he said his name was Mustapha.
Sailed from this port to cruise off the Island of Pantalaria. You that are fond of romance are aware that in this island the famous captain of banditti met his death; all Italy speaks of him, from the Apennines to the Straits of Messina, and the shepherds of the Sicilian vales sing the praises of the valoroso Capitano Rinaldini. But they did not (in this island) sing the praises of little Tommy Yates, our purser, who went on shore to purchase some articles, and put the whole island under quarantine when they found out we had just left the Turkish port; and if Tommy had gone on shore the second time he probably would have left his bones there.
We encountered off this island the heaviest gale I ever was in; particularly a squall that lasted from seven bells in the middle watch until two bells in the morning watch. The storm staysails were blown from the bolt rope, and the ship during this prodigious gust lay with her main deck guns in the water. The sea was one white sheet, and during the whole course of my servitude I never witnessed anything equal to it; and many who had been in the hurricane of 1780 in the West Indies, declared that this squall was equally terrible. After the cruise we put into Trapani, the ancient Drepanum. It was here Aeneas landed, according to Virgil, when the fight with the gauntlet took place between Dares and Entellus, and it was also famous for that between Hercules and Eryx, in which the latter was killed. It was a noted place in the first Punic war for military events, as that of the defeat of the Roman fleet under the Consul Claudius Pulcher, wherein (according to Valerius Maximus) the Romans lost 90 galleys, 8,000 men killed or drowned, and 20,000 taken prisoners by the Carthaginians without the loss of a man or a single galley on their side.[[97]]
I must here relate an anecdote which will show how careful people ought to be when joking with those whom they think don’t understand their language. The day after we arrived at Trapani, near thirty Sicilian clergymen came on board to see the ship, and while on the quarter deck making their observations, Palmer, our fourth lieutenant, in a frolicsome mood, went up to one of them and, while bowing and scraping, said, ‘Pray, sir, were you ever knocked down with a fathom of ——?’ when, to Palmer’s horror and amazement, the other answered in good English, ‘Never in my life, sir,’ and then addressed his companions, who cast their eyes upon Palmer and began to laugh at his expense. This he could not stand, and in going down the quarter deck ladder declared he would sooner face the devil than a Trapani parson.
The islands Maretimo, Levanzo, and Faviguano are near this place; in the last-mentioned island the Turkish prisoners are sent as slaves. We saw several of them at work in the moat, one of them a man of prodigious stature. These islands were the ancient Ægades, where Lutatius Catulus, the Roman consul, defeated the Carthaginian fleet and put an end to the first Punic War.[[97]]
Before we left Trapani we went to see a church, or rather cemetery, where several rows of dead bodies were placed in niches one over the other. They were naked, some standing up and others lying at full length, and presenting an appearance truly horrible; we understood they belonged to a particular order. While lying here, a mutiny took place among the ship’s company, in consequence of some bullocks that were anything but fat being sent for the use of the people. Now John Bull, having more regard for fat and lean, swore he’d be damned if he’d have anything to do with skin and bone. A survey was then held and the report stated that as no other meat could be obtained, double allowance of this lean kine should be served out to make up the deficiency; but all to no purpose; and John Bull, forgetting his duty and only thinking of his maw, broke out into open rebellion. Some of the scoundrels were put in irons, but were immediately released by the others and the irons thrown overboard. They then assembled on the lower deck, got the hammocks down, and a breastwork made in the bay, with the two foremost guns pointed aft. The officers at last prevailed on them to return to their duty, and, Sir John Collins being an easy man, no examples were made. Sailed for Leghorn, where we arrived in Carnival time. We were not long at an anchor before the ship was surrounded by boats with musicians playing fine Italian airs and women singing most delightfully.
Several men of war were in the roads; among which was the Aquilon, 32, with Prince Augustus Frederick (now Duke of Sussex) on his travels. Got leave with some difficulty to go on shore with two messmates, Graves and Valobra; saw the brazen men so much spoken of, consisting of the father and three sons (Turks) in bronze chained to the four corners of a pedestal, with a marble statue of a Tuscan prince on the top. Visited the Jews’ synagogue, which was well worth seeing, being a magnificent temple; also the churches, opera house and many other places, with fine paintings and statuary, and had glorious fun at the Carnival, where we met our little purser, Tommy Yates, with a mask and a black domino on, cutting such capers that Heraclitus would have wiped away his tears had he seen him, and joined in the laugh. He was a wet little soul and generous to a degree, and everyone respected him.