and if Patty would only say ‘I think I hear the boatswain,’ I would be off without further trouble.
My father, mother, and Charley Buchan, the purser, took it into their heads to walk to Cobham on a Sunday in very warm weather. When they got there, it was near church time in the afternoon; they wanted to get dinner, but nothing could be obtained at any of the houses; and when asked if they had anything, the answer was, ‘We have ate it all up,’ and Buchan would reply, ‘The devil choke you with it.’ He then set off to forage while we remained at an inn. After waiting some time we heard a shouting, and on going out saw him marching at the head of the people who were going to church, waving a shoulder of mutton and singing a stave from the 41st Psalm:
Happy the man whose tender care
Relieves the poor distressed.
On his coming in, the landlord took my father aside and requested to know if the gentleman (meaning Buchan) was right in his intellect. To keep up the joke my father told him he was subject to sudden fits of insanity and would frequently bite people, and always took the piece out. ‘God save us!’ said the landlord; ‘I wish his honour had gone to some other house, for I don’t like the look of him.’ The mutton, however, was put down to roast, and when about half done was brought in, and the landlord, bending his eye, not on vacancy but on Buchan, said he hoped everything was to his honour’s liking, and adding that when the company had dined he would be glad to have the room, as it was engaged for the evening; upon which Buchan got up and, flourishing the carving knife, sang with a voice of thunder, ‘Farewell to Lochaber,’ which made the landlord back out as if he had been at the levee. We soon after relieved him from his troubles and returned to Brompton.
When the ship was fitted we sailed for Sheerness; and on paying a visit to the Mars, 74, a guard-ship at Black Stakes (the captain being a relation of my mother) we got swamped alongside, but luckily escaped drowning. While at Sheerness we had an invitation to dine with a merchant whose name was Simmers, and among the number Buchan the purser was invited. At the table sat Mr. Simmers’ dog Pompey, with a plate laid for him. It was laughable to hear Buchan (who was a wag) ask Pompey if he should have the pleasure of drinking wine with him; and on taking leave he gave the dog an invitation to dine on board with him the next day, saying he should be most happy to see him and his father (Mr. Simmers), and to be sure not to come without him. The old man felt the rebuke and gave no more invitations.
After getting our powder we sailed for the Downs, and soon after proceeded to Spithead, where we remained a short time until we received orders to take shipwrights to Halifax from Portsmouth and Plymouth; and when everything was ready, we got under way from St. Helen’s in the evening; but in consequence of the man in the chains giving the wrong soundings—the leadline being foul—the ship struck on the Dean, where the old Invincible, 74, was lost, and after considerable damage was got off and returned to Spithead and then to Portsmouth Harbour to refit. My father was tried by a court martial and honourably acquitted. While in the harbour alongside the jetty, a cat flew at the sentry on the gangway and fixed on his shoulder, and it was with great difficulty the animal could be removed; the sentry fell in a fit and dropped his musket overboard and was subject to fits while he remained in the ship. The Boreas when refitted was ordered to the West Indies, and I left the ship for school,[[4]] and again joined her on her return, and sailed for Plymouth and went into Hamoaze, when Lord Sandwich promoted my father and appointed him fifth Lieutenant of the Conqueror, 74, fitting in the harbour.
We took lodgings at the house of a hop merchant in North Corner Street; he was also carpenter of a line-of-battle ship, and a very eccentric character. His name was John Cowdray, and on his table linen was marked in large letters Sir John Cowdray, Baronet and Knight of the Bath. His wife was also a strange being and was perpetually calling out ‘Bet Waters! Bet Waters!’ (the name of her servant) from morning until night, with a voice that, sounded like a sow-gelder’s flageolet. The day before my father left the Boreas, he gave at this house a dinner to the captain and officers; and I remember his saying to Captain Thompson that Sir Francis Drake taught the people of Plymouth to walk upright: before that they went on all fours. He had hardly made the observation when the door opened, and in came one of the servants upon all fours, having fallen and upset a couple of roast fowls with all the contents upon Sir John Cowdray’s fine carpet, and bespattered my father’s white lappels. ‘There,’ says Captain Thompson, ‘is a specimen of grown people taught to walk upright by Sir Francis Drake.’
While the Boreas lay in Hamoaze, a violent quarrel took place between her crew and that of the Foudroyant, and several hard battles were fought, to the advantage of the former, who always came off conqueror when not overpowered by numbers. We had a fellow by the name of Waddle who was coxswain of the pinnace, and a noted boxer. This man fought and beat three of the best men belonging to the Foudroyant, one after the other, to the great satisfaction of his shipmates, who made a subscription and handsomely rewarded their champion.
During the time this frigate was in the West Indies, and also on the home service, she sailed superior to any of the men of war, and was one of the first of the copper-bottomed. The following are the names of the officers that I can recollect:—