I must here mention that the commodore of the squadron (Captain Hardy,[[133]] commanding a 64) came on board with several other captains, and after going round the ship and mustering us at quarters, he addressed me, saying, ‘Sir, I feel great satisfaction in stating that the Blonde is in the best order of any ship in the squadron and the fittest to receive his Majesty, should he go afloat; and for the short time your ship has been in commission she does great honour to her captain and officers.’ This he said before the rest of the captains, and among the number was my old captain (Towry) formerly of the Berwick. In fitting out the ship at Chatham, I did everything I could to keep on good terms with the officers of the yard by asking them down to our mess and paying them every little attention in my power; and by that means I had an opportunity of getting many things done to beautify the ship.[[134]] I had the head painted in colours, the quarters friezed, a famous stand made for the arms on the quarter deck, and trophies painted on our scuttle butts, with half circles and circles for our pistols and cutlasses, which made the old Blonde cut a dashing appearance.
Just as we were getting under way, Captain Hardy sent me four or five buckets of paint, with his compliments, saying I should stand in need of it after getting rid of the soldiers, which was really the case, as on board they were the most helpless and dirty devils I ever beheld—except the Russians. It was impossible to get them up from between decks without burning green wood in the stoves, which the devil himself could not stand, the smoke was so intolerable.[[135]]
After a quick passage we landed the troops at Waterford, where we remained a short time and then returned to our station, to guard the Needles passage for a few weeks. The Europa, 50, being sent to relieve us, got aground near Gurnet Point, and after lying there some time was got off and returned to Portsmouth to refit. More troops being ordered to Ireland, we were put under the orders of Captain Geo. Burdon and sailed with a small squadron consisting of the following men of war:—
| Alkmaar[[136]] | 54 | Capt. Geo. Burdon, commodore |
| Tromp[[137]] | 54 | Capt. Worsley |
| Blonde | 32 | Capt. Dobree |
| Weymouth store-ship |
On the passage we had near got on the Seven Stones. I had the morning watch, and soon after I relieved the deck I observed breakers upon the lee bow and beam and at no great distance; the wind about NNW, and our heads to the westward, blowing fresh with a chop of a sea. The Alkmaar was ahead, on the weather bow, and the Tromp to windward, the Weymouth astern of all. We were under double reefed topsail and foresail and no time to be lost; immediately set topgallant sails, jib and spanker; hauled on board the main tack, kept her rap full, and when she had fresh way, put the helm down and she stayed like a top. We made the signal for standing into danger, and when the Alkmaar put her helm down she missed stays, and when they got her head round her stern was close to the breakers. The Tromp, by being to windward and carrying a press of sail weathered the shoals and parted company. In consequence of foul winds we put into Scilly for a few days, and then sailed for Dublin, where we landed the troops.
We were employed upon this service from Dublin to Cork and then to Guernsey, and up and down Channel with convoy, until August 1799, when we received orders to proceed to the Baltic to convey the Russian troops to Holland. Sailed from Spithead, and having taken in pilots proceeded to Elsinore and then to Reval, with some transports. Found lying in the roads the Russian fleet consisting of 15 sail of the line besides frigates, etc., under Admiral Henikoff, and several British men of war and transports. Having embarked some thousands of the Russian guards we left Reval for the Texel, in company with British and Russian men of war and several transports. We had on board a Russian captain, two subs., a surgeon, and 296 privates, all hoffs, choffs, and koffs. The captain’s name was Peter Glebhoff, who never pulled his boots off the whole time he was on board. The men were the most filthy I ever met with. They used to scrape the tallow out of the bottoms of the lanterns and make it up into balls, which they would swallow and wash down with a drink of train oil. They had bread made on purpose, of the coarsest flour mixed with vinegar, and their cookery it is impossible to describe; so that the Spartan black broth must have been a luxury (however unpalatable) to their abominable messes. I have positively seen them pick the vermin off one another’s jackets, which they would eat without ceremony.
On our arrival at the Texel the whole were immediately landed, and were soon after in action, and the most of those we had on board put hors de combat by the next day. Poor Peter Glebhoff, who had been sharpening his spear at the grinding stone a few days before the landing, and vowing to sacrifice every Frenchman he met with, was one of the first that fell. He had been in most of the battles under Suvorof against the Turks and Poles, and had left a wife and family at Riga to lament his fate. He was much liked while on board of us and we all felt heartily sorry for him. I was several times on shore and saw the numerous wagons of wounded soldiers from the scene of action which by no means corresponded with the accounts given in our Gazettes.... I had two cousins, captains in the 17th regiment of foot—one of them (Knight) was killed just as I was going to see him.
A short time before we left the Texel the Blanche, 32, Captain Ayscough, got on shore on the Haaks—a dangerous shoal near the Texel, and some of the boats that were sent to her assistance unfortunately upset, and several officers and seamen perished, owing to the surf which ran very high on and near the shoal. The Blanche got off, and returned to the New Deep, and sunk just as she entered, but none of her crew were lost.[[138]] At this time things looked rather queer, and it was found out after hard fighting that it was not so easy to beat the French out of Holland as at first expected; and we were ordered to take a cargo of runaway Dutchmen on board, with their wives and families—about 400 altogether. A short time before we sailed we saw the Lutine, 36, Captain Launcelot Skynner, at the back of the Haaks, and, if I am correct, the evening she was lost[[139]] and only one saved, who died soon after.
We left the Texel in November 1799, and in standing over to our own coast had nearly struck by the blunder of our pilots on the Gabbard. After escaping from this first blunder we anchored near the Shipwash, another shoal by far more dangerous than the former. It was in the evening that we took up our quarters in this precious situation, intending to get under way with the morning tide. I must here mention that we had two pilots; one of them had been a branch pilot for more than twenty years. I had the morning watch, and on relieving the deck I observed to this branch pilot that the weather had a very suspicious appearance. The wind at this time was favourable for getting to sea, and we could lay five points to windward of the tail of the shoal. I strongly urged the pilot to get under way, pointing out the danger of our situation should the wind get dead on the shoal, but all to no purpose. He said there was no fear and he must remain where he was, as he was sure the weather would be fine, and that it was only a light haze over the moon; upon which I went to the captain and gave my opinion. He agreed with me, but did not like to take charge out of the pilots’ hands, saying he was fearful, in getting under way, that the ship might get on shore should she cast the wrong way. Now there was no fear of that, as a spring on the cable would have cast her the right way, and the loss of an anchor was of little consequence compared with the risk of losing the ship and our lives.
Far be it from me to reflect upon Captain Dobree, who was a good officer and seaman; and taking charge from a pilot was a great responsibility; but when a pilot is guilty of a gross error, I should never hesitate to take charge of the ship, if I knew I could do so with safety, which was the case now. But it was neglected, and as I foretold, the wind soon after backed round and blew dead upon the shoal, so that we could not weather either end. At this time we were at single anchor about two or three cable’s-lengths from the breakers, blowing strong, and the sea getting up; at half cable; but let go another anchor and veered to a whole cable on the former, and half cable on the latter, bringing two anchors ahead. Sent topgallant masts upon deck, and struck yards and topmasts; the wind increasing to a gale, with a hollow sea and great strain upon the cables. There was no alternative but to cut away the masts, which was immediately done; but owing to an error of one of the officers, who ordered the lanyards of the main stay to be cut before the lanyards of one side of the main rigging, the main mast, in consequence fell aft, and carried away the mizen mast, which stove the boats on the quarters and did considerably damage to the upper works; and some of the rigging caught fire, from the stove in the cabin having the funnel knocked off; but this was soon got under, and with great exertion the wreck was cleared. ‘And now, Master Pilot,’ says I, ‘after getting us in this damnable situation, what next is to be done?’ The son of a bitch could make me no answer; but the junior pilot exclaimed ‘—— seize me if we sha’n’t be on the sands.’ I could not help saying they deserved to be hanged as drowning was too good for them.