[Lists of the fleet, killed and wounded, of detachments to the West Indies and the coast of Ireland, follow. They are in close agreement with the lists given by Schomberg (Naval Chronology, iv. 390 seq.) and were probably copied from them, or the published lists which Schomberg reproduced. In any case, they have no special authority and are therefore omitted.
In November, on the Panther’s arriving at Plymouth, where Vice-Admiral Lord Shuldham had his flag in the Dunkirk—]
a court martial was held on board the Dunkirk on one of our midshipmen (Mr. Foularton) on some trifling charge brought against him by Lieutenant Hanwell of the Dublin, on which he was fully acquitted. One of our main-top men (Martin Anguin), in sending down the topgallant mast, fell from the fore part of the main topmast crosstrees and pitched on the collar of the main stay, from which he went down, astern of the barge upon the booms, into the hold, the gratings being off. He was sent to the hospital without a fractured limb, but much bruised about the breast. He recovered and came on board to receive his pay on the day the ship was paid off. Such a fall and to escape with life, I believe is not to be found in the annals of naval history.[[25]] Hoisted the flag (blue at the fore) of Vice-Admiral Milbanke as port admiral, second in command.
The peace soon after taking place, a mutiny broke out in the men of war, and some of the ships began to unrig without orders, and were in a high state of insubordination, particularly the Blenheim, Crown, Standard, Medway, and Artois. I do not remember that any examples were made, but this I am sure of, that the ringleaders richly deserved hanging. Having received orders we dismantled the ship and struck Admiral Milbanke’s flag, and in a few days after the old Panther was paid off to the great regret of every officer on board. It was like the parting of a family who had lived long together in the strictest friendship; and while writing this, it brings to mind many circumstances that make me bitterly lament the inroads death has made among those worthy fellows.
The stroke of fate the bravest cannot shun:
The great Alcides, Jove’s unequall’d son,
To Juno’s hate at length resigned his breath,
And sunk the victim of all-conquering death.
Before closing my account of the Panther, I must relate a few anecdotes that happened during the time I belonged to her. I was placed with another youngster, by the name of Owen, under the tuition of the captains of the fore and main top. We were both in the same watch, which we kept first in one top and then in the other, to learn to knot and splice and to reef a sail; and for their attention we remunerated them with our grog. I remember the captain of the fore top (Joe Moulding), a very droll fellow, teaching us what he called a catechism, which we were obliged to repeat to him at two bells in every middle watch. It was as follows:
‘So fine the Conflustions!! of old Mother Damnable, who jumped off the fore topsail yard and filled the main topgallant sail; run down the lee leach of the mizen and hauled the main tack on board, that all the devils in hell could not raise it; clapped a sheepshank on the main mast, a bowline knot on the foremast, and an overhand knot on the mizen mast; run the keel athwart ships, coiled the cables in the binnacle, tossed the quarter deck overboard, and made a snug ship for that night; when up jumped the little boy Fraser with a handspike stuck in his jaws to fend the seas off, with which he beat them into peas porridge, and happy was the man who had the longest spoon. AMEN!!’[[26]]