Some of our lads had a custom of taking an afternoon’s nap, particularly Graves, who went with me to Pisa. The others, always on the watch for mischief, would clap a spritsail yard upon his nose. This was done by cutting a notch on the outside of a piece of hoop and bending it so as to form a forceps and then put it on the nose like a spring. The first time it was fixed he started up and swore lustily that a rat (for we had hundreds of them on board) had seized him by the nose. On another occasion some wicked fellow made a curious mark on his forehead with caustic that remained for several weeks.
Our chaplain was a learned gentleman and always going on shore to make researches after antiquities. When we sailed from Toulon he was left behind; and on making his escape (so we were told) when the enemy entered, he got upon a wall where a rope ladder was placed about ten feet high. When he got on the top the ladder gave way and he had no means of alighting on the other side, and was afraid to jump down. In this predicament a party of French came up and one of them let fly a stone, which fortunately for him first struck the wall and then hit him on the hip, and canted him the right way; and by that means he luckily made his escape to the boats with little hurt, but damnably frightened. In the gale of July 1793, when we carried away our main topmast and half the main top, an arm chest full of black pieces[[108]] fell out of the top with thundering sound upon the quarter deck, and several of the muskets stuck with their muzzles in the deck, which bent some of the barrels. Old Billy Chantrell, our first lieutenant, taking up one of them, said with a grin, ‘I shall take this home; it will do when I go a-shooting to kill sparrows round a hayrick.’ When it fell it was within an inch of his head, and he was knocked down with a piece of the chest which broke through the netting. I passed a very happy life during the time I belonged to the Berwick and parted with many valuable friends with deep regret. Our first lieutenant (Chantrell), Mr. Chas. Duncan, the master, and Tomlinson, the clerk, left the ship at the same time and joined the Gorgon as supernumeraries for a passage to England; and also two of my old shipmates, Yetts and Allardice, formerly of the Edgar, invalided home, which made the Gorgon very agreeable to me. The following are the names of the officers:—
Sir John Collins, Knt., Captain.
Dead. A good man but fractious from severe illness; he commanded the Ruby, 64, detached from the grand fleet at the relief of Gibraltar, 1782, being one of eight sail of the line sent to reinforce the fleet in the West Indies. On the passage she captured, after a smart action, the Solitaire, a French 64, for which Captain Collins was knighted.
Wm. Shield, Esq., Captain.
A retired rear-admiral. [Died 1842.—Marshall, iii. 89.]
Geo. Campbell, Esq., Captain.
Dead. A vice-admiral; a better fellow never existed. [As a rear-admiral, second in command under Nelson off Toulon 1803–4. Died, admiral and G.C.B., in 1821.]
Geo. Henry Towry, Esq., Captain.
Dead [1808]. In him the service lost a most worthy officer.