There were groans and cheers; but no man accepted the challenge. Edward Chichester and his brother did not look inviting, as they stood in the street with teeth and fists clenched, and “their tails were up.” After this they escorted Sir Robert Carden many times, but there were no further molestations.

For a considerable number of years Captain Chichester was on the unemployed list, eating out his heart in his bungalow at Instow. But to every man at least once in life comes a chance, and the unlucky and unsuccessful man is he who, seeing it, does not recognize and grasp the chance.

It so fell out that the gunboat Banterer was caught in a storm, and was supposed to have foundered in the Bristol Channel. No tidings had been heard of her, and the Admiralty and the Duke of Edinburgh, then in command at Devonport, were greatly alarmed. However, she managed to run into Bideford estuary, but was there in a deplorable condition, and threatened to become a total wreck by running on some of the sandbanks that obstruct the channel. Captain Chichester, who was on the beach with telescope to his eye, saw the peril, called together at once a scratch crew, manned a boat, and at great personal risk, for the wind was on shore and huge rollers were coming in, made his way to the Banterer, and himself piloted her into anchorage at Appledore, and was able to wire to the Admiralty that she was safe. This got him the command of the troopship Himalaya.

During the operations against the Boers in the Transvaal he was naval transport officer, till the ignominious surrender by Mr. Gladstone in 1881. Whenever that was mentioned in Sir Edward’s hearing, his colour would mount in cheek and temple, and he would lower his eyes, feeling the dishonour done to his country as if it were a personal offence.

In 1881–2 he was lieutenant of the Thalia during the war in Egypt. In 1882 he was promoted for his services and received the Egyptian medal and the Khedive’s bronze star, and was again employed in the transport service.

In 1884–5 he was engaged on the same work in Egypt.

In 1887 he was a member of a Committee of Inquiry on British Drift-net Fisheries, and the following year received the thanks of the Board of Trade for the judgment and tact he displayed as senior officer in command of the ships employed in protecting North Sea Fisheries; while in 1891 he served on a Board of Trade Committee on Fishing Boats’ Lights. In 1895 he was sent with the Immortalité to the China station. On inspecting a ship on the China station he was accompanied by a major of the Royal Marines; the latter had forgotten his inspection papers, and asked leave to go back to his ship to fetch them. When he returned he apologized to the captain for the delay and for having forgotten the papers. “You’ve forgotten something else,” said Captain Chichester, looking up and down at the Marine officer, who wore the official spurs; “why, you’ve forgotten the ’oss.” He was there in 1898 when the Spanish-American war broke out.

When, after destroying the Spanish squadron at Cavite, Commodore Dewey blockaded Manila, the Immortalité and three other men-of-war were dispatched thither to protect English interests. Ships of other nations also assembled there, and amongst these the Germans with such an assumption of menace, that Commodore Dewey fired a shot across the bows of the flagship of Admiral Dietrich, commanding the German squadron. It was well known that the Germans were desirous of putting a stop to the war, and that the Kaiser had no desire to see the Stars and Stripes wave over any possession in the Eastern Archipelago. He had but just before used the expression “the Mailed Fist” in reference to his squadron in the Far East. The Emperor’s royal brother was in command of one of the German ships. The American fleet was employed in Manila Bay in keeping the Spanish squadron inside. The Germans were approaching menacingly, and showed signs of irritation at the prospect of the Americans taking active and decisive measures with the enemy. It became necessary for the American admiral to restrict the movements of the foreign men-of-war in the circumstances. It seemed probable that Dietrich had received secret instructions to fire on the American fleet in the event of its bombarding Manila, but only on the condition that the English remained neutral. Be that as it may, the disposition of the German squadron drawing in upon that of the American looked suspicious. But before opening fire the German admiral went to the Immortalité in a boat to sound the disposition of the English commander.

On meeting in the cabin, Dietrich inquired, “What attitude are you likely to take up in the event of the Americans bombarding Manila?” “That,” replied Chichester, “is a matter known only to Dewey and me.”