On the 21st of December the sun reached its greatest southern declination. We felt on that day that we had cause for rejoicing. The sun had arrived at the limit of its southern journey, and now it would, every day, be travelling to the northward, and therefore in our direction. So rapidly had the time passed that Christmas stole upon us unawares, and we were only reminded of its approach by the strong odour of good things being cooked that pervaded the whole ship, bringing to our minds the fact that preparations for its celebration had actually commenced. Nothing was omitted that could possibly add to the comfort and enjoyment of the men on this day. The ship’s stores were thrown open and they were allowed to provide themselves with an unlimited amount, so long as there was no waste, of flour, raisins, sugar, and preserved fruits, and in addition to the regular daily allowance of meat, a pound of musk-ox beef and a pound of mutton were issued to each man. For the two previous days, during which they had been disturbed as little as possible, the men were engaged in making the necessary preparations for spending their Christmas as happily and as socially as if they were in a more genial climate. It must be remembered that this was a day looked forward to by all, not only in the light of a festival, but because it was also regarded as the turning-point of the winter. After Christmas every day would bring us nearer to the sun, whose bright face we all so ardently wished to welcome once more. Moreover, Christmas day, to a community situated as we were, “away from the busy haunts of men,” must always be regarded as an epoch, a day looked forward to, and when passed, a day from which many events are dated.
In addition to the supplies afforded by the stores of the ship, we were largely indebted to kind, and in several instances unknown, friends and well-wishers to the expedition in England for many little articles that assisted to amuse our men during this festive season. Amongst these the kind and generous ladies of Queenstown must not be forgotten. These ladies had, previous to our departure from England, formed themselves into a Committee, and had sent to each ship a large Christmas-box containing many useful, and indeed valuable, articles. Each officer received some little package, personally directed to himself, and every man was presented with some pretty little Christmas-box. Nothing could have been more happily thought of, and it would have done the fair donors good could they but have witnessed the pleasure testified by the recipients at the distribution of the contents of their case.
I must not omit to mention another Christmas-box, kindly sent by Mr. Mason, the inventor, I believe, of “Somebody’s Luggage,” and containing all sorts of amusing little articles suitable either for decorating a table or a Christmas-tree.
Another act of kindness on the part of our friends in England was also much appreciated by both officers and men. A young lady, a relative of one of the officers, had taken the trouble to direct a letter to each individual on board, containing a beautiful Christmas card. To make it appear as if they had been actually delivered through the post, a second-hand postage-stamp had been affixed to each envelope. Her kind forethought afforded a great deal of pleasure to the recipients of those letters.
Christmas eve was spent very merrily by all on board the “Alert.” The piano was carried out from the ward-room to the main deck, where dancing was kept up with great animation until eleven o’clock! It is wonderful how fond the English man-of-war’s man is of dancing. So long as he can obtain music and a partner to dance with, without regard to sex, he will continue to fling his legs about with great vigour until compelled by heat and exhaustion to desist! The men on board the “Alert” were no exception to this rule; one and all joined in the dance, and seemed thoroughly to enjoy it. Poor Aldrich did not get a moment’s peace. As soon as one tune was finished, he was called upon for another. Polka, waltz, and galop followed each other in rapid succession, officers and men joining alike in the general hilarity of the evening.
Christmas morning broke cold and clear; its stillness occasionally interrupted by light puffs of wind from the S.W. Divine service was performed in the forenoon, the pulpit being decorated with branches of artificial holly. When church was over, a little exercise was taken on the “ladies’ mile.” On my return I found my cabin brightened up by small twigs of variegated holly, a delicate and touching attention on the part of some of my messmates, who had provided themselves with artificial branches of this plant before leaving England. At one o’clock, everything being in readiness, the officers were invited to inspect the lower deck. Preceded by our drum and fife band playing the “Roast Beef of Old England,” we paid a formal visit to the men’s quarters. The lower deck was beautifully and tastefully decorated with flags, coloured tinsel paper, and artificial flowers, whilst the different mess tables were literally groaning under the weight of the good cheer that adorned them. Everything had a cheerful and comfortable appearance, and, above all, the radiant healthy-looking faces, beaming with pleasure, that so cordially and heartily greeted us with the compliments of the season. Of course, dancing was the prominent feature of the afternoon, Aldrich, with his usual good nature, being again victimized at the piano. At six o’clock, for on such an important occasion we departed from our usual dinner hour of half-past two, we all assembled in the ward-room for dinner, and great was our astonishment and delight at seeing in the centre of our table a magnificent bouquet of artificial flowers. This was, I believe, the happy thought of a lady who had recently been admitted into the circle of “Arctic relations.” The bright-coloured flowers, reminding us of home associations, were more thoroughly appreciated than even the good dinner which was provided for us, for which reference must be made to the following menu, composed by Pullen:—
H.M.S. “ALERT.”
| À la Juliènne soup is the potage we favour, And soles fried au naturel serve us for fish; We have cutlets and green peas of elegant flavour— Beef garnished with mushrooms—a true English dish. Then a mountain of beef from our cold Greenland valleys, Overshadowing proudly boiled mutton hard by, Till our appetite, waning, just playfully dallies With a small slice of ham—then gives in with a sigh. For lo! a real English plum-pudding doth greet us, And a crest of bright holly adorns its bold brow; While the choicest mince pies are yet waiting to meet us: Alas! are we equal to meeting them now? So we drink to our Queen, and we drink to the maiden, The wife, or the mother, that holds us most dear; And may we and our consort sail home richly laden With the spoils of success, ere December next year! |
In addition to the bill of fare, the annexed poem by the same accomplished author was printed and placed in front of each member of the mess.