‘Yours most faithfully,
‘John Bazely, Junr.’
After clearing the prize and delivering her up to Mr. Hemmings, the master attendant at Plymouth and agent for Lord Bridport (who I have every reason to thank for his great civility while I remained in Hamoaze, in the many invitations I had to dine at his house, where he made a point to introduce me to the captains who visited there) I was put on board the Medusa, 50, commanded by my old messmate Jack Eaton, who was to take us as far as Portsmouth. On our arrival at Spithead we were put on board the Weasel, commanded by Captain Lewis, and sailed for the Nore, where we soon arrived and joined our ship at Sheerness, and I was well received by the captain and my messmates. Went into dock and when refitted proceeded to Portsmouth, where we remained but a short time and sailed with a convoy for Oporto. We had a very pleasant passage and took out Captain A. Ball on his way to join his ship, who left us off Oporto. On our return we recaptured a brig in the Bay of Biscay, and I was put on board as prize master; but from ill health I went back to my ship and the first lieutenant took charge of the prize in my room.
On our arrival at Spithead, the latter end of April 1797, we found the fleet in a high state of mutiny. We had orders to fit for foreign service, and I had directions to go with a party of seamen and marines to the dockyard for new cables and stores. The mutiny, which in some measure had been suppressed, broke out afresh on board the London, 98, Vice-Admiral Colpoys, and some of the mutineers were killed; but the officers were overpowered and the admiral’s flag struck by the scoundrels, and the bloody flag of defiance hoisted in its room. I went with my party to the yard in the morning and began to get off the stores, when a marine said he would not assist in rousing the cable into the lighter and advised the others to knock off; upon which I told him if he did not immediately take hold of the cable with the rest I would cut him down (which was my intention). This had the effect and he went to work with the others. When I got on board our men were in a state of mutiny, and every ship at Spithead and St. Helen’s the same. I had the first watch that night, and the master relieved me at twelve, and everything seemed quiet; but about three bells in the morning watch I was sent for by the captain, and on my coming on deck I found the ship’s company assembled there and the captain, in the most impressive manner, requesting them to return to their duty, but all to no purpose. Had we been the only ship, we should soon have driven the scoundrels to the devil; but as we were situated, surrounded by line-of-battle ships acting in the same disgraceful manner, it would have been of little use to resist. About six a paper was handed up to the captain with the following order in writing:—
‘It is the unanimous opinion of the ship’s company that Captain Bazely, Lieutenants Hickey and Gardner, Mr. White, the purser, and Messrs. Kinneer and Allen, midshipmen, are to quit the ship by 6, or violent measures will be taken to enforce the order.’
Soon after 6 the barge was manned and armed; every vagabond had a cutlass, and our trunks were handed in, with orders from the delegates not to carry them anywhere for us. I had a brace of pistols with a double charge which I put in my great-coat pockets in case I should want their assistance. It was blowing a gale of wind at NE when we left the ship, and near ten o’clock before we landed on Point beach; our things were handed out, and I desired the bowman and one or two more, who I knew to be great scoundrels, to take them to Turner’s (living on the beach, and only a step from the boat) shewing them at the same time my pistols and saying, ‘You understand me.’ They then most reluctantly took our things to the place I directed. This was all I wanted, as I heard some of the ringleaders say as we were quitting the ship ‘that if any of the boat’s crew assisted in taking our things to any place after landing they should be severely ducked on their return’; and they were as good as their word; for those fellows got a fine ducking the moment they got on board, the others having reported them.
We left the Hind in May 1797, but before I close my account I must relate a few anecdotes as they come to my recollection. I shall begin with the surgeon, who was a very worthy fellow and much respected, but was strange, so that we thought him half cracked, and he had the name of Benjamin Bullock the Madman (a character in some work that I forget). I was one morning walking the deck with him when the postman came on board and presented a letter directed to ‘Robert Anderson, Esq., or Benjamin Bullock, Esq., Surgeon of H.M. ship Hind. With speed.’ The letter ran thus: ‘Take care when you are going on shore, and do not on any account pass the Devil’s Point where Bullocks are put to death daily for the use of the fleet. So no more at present from yours to command, J. Talgol, Slaughter House, Devil’s Point.’
He accused me of writing the letter, but he was mistaken, and from that day to this I know nothing of the author. He was greatly enraged and vowed vengeance against me and my friend Harley the purser, who was the person that gave him the name of Ben Bullock. It happened some time after that Harley and myself were going on shore and Anderson said he would take a passage with us. When near the Devil’s Point, which we had to pass, I gave orders to the boat’s crew to pull with all their might, ‘Give way, my lads, give way until we pass this place.’ Anderson looked at me and said, ‘What the hell are you afraid of now? You are always croaking about some damned thing or other.’ ‘My good fellow,’ says I, ‘it is on your account that I am so anxious. Don’t you remember the friendly letter you had warning you to beware of the Devil’s Point? It is on this account that I want to pass it in such a hurry, as you may be taken out and cut up for fresh beef.’ And what made things worse, on our landing the first object that drew our attention was a large board over a warehouse, with ‘Bullock and Anderson’ on it in gilt letters of immense size, to his astonishment and vexation.
At another time, when we had a large party on board I was sitting at the bottom of the table and Anderson at the head as caterer. I happened to be in conversation with Harley, who in the heat of argument was energetically moving his hand up and down; which Anderson observed, and leaving the head of the table with a knife in each hand, he placed himself between me and Harley, and holding a knife against our breasts says he: ‘That’s for thee, and that’s for thou; I know well what you meant by moving your hand up and down like a cleaver cutting up bullocks for the fleet, and be damned to you both. Now do it again if you dare.’ After some difficulty we persuaded him to go to the head of the table again; but those who were strangers to his whims looked on him with an evil eye.
Our master (Coghlan) was a very droll fellow and fond of carrying sail in a boat. Being sent from the Sound to the dockyard on duty, it came on to blow a heavy gale of wind, and we struck yards and topmasts. In the first watch about six bells I was walking the deck with Captain Lee, who observed how glad he was our boat was safe, as he had no doubt Mr. Coghlan had gone on board the flagship in the harbour. He had not long made the observation, when I thought (it being moonlight) I saw something in the direction of Drake’s Island and pointed it out to Captain Lee, who said it could not be a boat, as nobody would be mad enough to risk his life on such a night. By this time the object drew near, when to our astonishment we were hailed by Coghlan to throw a rope, and in a moment he flew alongside. We got the yard and stay tackles over instantly, got the men in, and ran the boat up in safety although a heavy sea was running. When Coghlan came upon deck, the captain asked if he was not ashamed of himself in risking the lives of the people in the wanton manner he had done. Tim with the greatest simplicity said, ‘Sir, if you had seen her (meaning the boat) fly from the top of one sea to another without stopping between, you would really have admired her. She darted through the breakers when crossing the Bridge (a dangerous reef of rocks between Drake’s Island and Mount Edgcumbe) like a race horse. I never was in such a boat in my life.’ Captain Lee, vexed as he was, could not help smiling, at the same time telling Tim if he did so again strange things would take place. Coghlan’s name was John, but someone had written to Steel saying his name was Timothy and it was put so on the list. Coghlan on this wrote to say it was not his name and requested Steel to alter it; but the same wag who had written before did so again, and when the list was printed his name stood as John Timothy Coghlan, and remained so, and we always called him Tim.[[125]] He has gone to his long home and has left behind the character of an honest and worthy fellow. He left the Hind to be master of the Trent, 36, going to the West Indies. I dined with him a short time before he sailed, and he was pointing out the different members of the mess, saying that none of them could live in such a climate. Poor fellow, he little thought while making that remark that they all returned and he the only one that sunk the victim of all-conquering death.