The ‘Royal George,’ a first-rate man-of-war of 100 guns, was overset at Spithead June 28th, 1782,[[361]] and for nearly sixty years, that leviathan wreck had been lying in the roadstead, a danger to shipping. Several enterprising individuals had attempted or proposed to raise or remove it, but with unavailing results. At length Colonel Pasley undertook the task, and in a few summers, by means of gunpowder, effected its entire demolition and removal. Many guns had been previously recovered, but the number still at the bottom was estimated in value at more than 5,000l.
Under the auspices of the Admiralty, Colonel Pasley repaired to Portsmouth from Chatham with the necessary stores and a detachment of the corps, consisting of sergeant-major Jenkin Jones, one bugler, a clerk, and thirteen rank and file under the command of Captain M. Williams, of the corps, who was afterwards relieved by Lieutenant J. F. A. Symonds, royal engineers. The rank and file comprised a collar-maker and a cooper, with a proportion of carpenters, blacksmiths, and tinmen. After being removed from the ‘Queen,’ navy lighter on the 20th August, to the ‘Success,’ frigate hulk, then anchored near the wreck, operations commenced on the 21st, and were continued with diligence till the 4th November. They were then suspended till the return of the summer. During the service, the sappers, and the seamen, marines, &c., were divided into two squads, and attached to two lumps moored about 100 fathoms apart, with the wreck between them. From these lumps the work was usually carried on. Each lump had its own diver. Lieutenant Symonds directed the operations of one, and sergeant-major Jones the other. “Thus a friendly emulation took place between the whole of the men employed,” each party working for the success of its own diver, “and the divers themselves being no less anxious to surpass each other.”[[362]]
Two of the great explosions failed, but two succeeded, besides a vast number of smaller ones, which shook the wreck and opened its sides and cleared its decks. The labour consequent on the success of the divers was immense, and the recovery of articles and guns gave promise of realizing more than sufficient to cover the outlay in carrying on the work. The more particular duties of the sappers did not prevent them taking a full share of the labour at the capstan and the ropes. When not employed in the general duties of the operation, they were confined to the performance of special ones; such as preparing the various explosions, managing the voltaic battery and apparatus, and repairing the latter when needed. “They also repaired the diving-dresses, and did all the coopers', blacksmiths', and carpenters' work necessary, including the fitting up and occasional repairs to launches used for receiving the materials.” In all these duties they were found particularly useful.[[363]]
When Mr. Dewar, the only bell-diver, was discharged, it became necessary to train volunteers to succeed him. Two men of the detachment readily offered to try the service. These were corporal David Harris and private William Reid. On the 27th August, with Colonel Pasley and Lieutenant Symonds, they entered the bell, and twice were lowered, the second time with the intention of going down on the wreck; but before they had descended low enough, a pleasure yacht having run foul of the lump from which the bell was being lowered, it was in consequence hauled up, as every man was wanted to assist in saving the yacht.
The diving-bell was employed a second time on the 4th September, with lance-corporal Harris and private John Skelton, as the sub-marine operators. When the vessel had descended about eight fathoms, the message-board and caution-line got entangled, and the divers were consequently hauled to the surface. A mishap of this kind would have discouraged some beginners, but spirited and willing, they only cared to succeed, and down again they went, reaching the bottom in little more than fourteen fathoms. As, however, no less than two and a-half feet of water had entered the bell, it was rendered inefficacious for any useful result. Owing to 50 men, hardy seamen and marines from the ‘Pique’ frigate, working the capstan and machinery, the descent was accomplished in ten and a-half minutes, and the re-ascent in eight and a-half; but when only 30 men were employed on the former occasion, the ascent went through the insufferably tedious period of 27 minutes. After these trials, the diving-bell, which from its unwieldy weight required no less than forty-nine men to be employed in various ways to raise it, was discarded and sent into Portsmouth dockyard.[[364]]
On the 5th September a large wrought iron cylinder filled with powder to be fired against the wreck, was found to have a small leak in it. “This would have been of no importance, as only a few pounds of powder were thereby spoiled; but when the whole of the powder was ordered to be emptied out that the hole might be repaired, unfortunately, the operation was carelessly executed,” inasmuch as water which should have been poured into the cylinder was not done. When, therefore, private Charles Brabant was afterwards employed in soldering a piece of tin over the hole, the powder still remaining in the cylinder blew up, and a fragment from it broke one of his thighs, and then indented itself in the deck. “This accident was much regretted by every one, especially as the young soldier thus injured bore an excellent character, and was one of the most useful men employed, his services as a tinman being in constant requisition.”[[365]]
The method adopted for unloading the powder from the cylinders when any was found to be damaged, and for preserving the good powder, was as curious as it was dangerous. “Having removed part of the outer casing of lead, corporal David Harris cut a hole through the side of the wood-work, by which, after emptying a part of its contents, he got into the cylinder, and continually kept filling a copper shovel with powder, which he handed out from time to time when full. At those periods only could any portion of him be seen. When rising up in his hole he displayed a face as black as a chimney-sweep’s.” To knock off the powder which had become caked either by wet or compression, he was provided with a wooden wedge and a copper hammer. Every precaution was taken to prevent accident, such as putting out the fires, laying hides on the deck and wetting them occasionally, as well as working in slippers. The duty was very unpleasant, and required in the operation more than ordinary courage.[[366]]
Soldering the loading-hole of the cylinder was also a dangerous service. “The neck and loading-hole were of brass, in the form of an hour-glass, soldered to the iron-work. As the hole was to have a disc of metal soldered over it after the cylinder was filled with powder, with a plug and some inches of clay between the powder and the disc, Mr. Taplin, a foreman in Portsmouth dockyard, was requested to send one of his artificers to do it who was accustomed to that sort of soldering; but the man sent to do it was horror-struck at the idea of the thing, and declared he would not attempt it for a thousand pounds!” The hole was eventually soldered by private Skelton, though unused to the work.[[367]]
The first helmet divers were corporal Harris and private William Reid,[[368]] who volunteered to act if required. They went down for trial in fifteen fathoms water near the ‘Success’ frigate one day when the regular divers were not required at the wreck. On another occasion when Hiram London had injured his hand, “corporal Harris went down four times to the wreck in one slack, and succeeded in slinging four pieces of timber, all of which were brought up.”[[369]]
Sergeant-major Jones, it is recorded, assisted Lieutenant Symonds with great efficiency, “and being very nearly as skilful in the management of boats and application of the mechanical powers as in the use of gunpowder,” his services were very important. Private William Read[[370]] prepared the voltaic battery for use, assisted by one or two others of the detachment, and his skill and steadiness, at all times apparent, were more decided in moments of difficulty. “Private John Skelton, a blacksmith, not only did everything essential in his own trade, but worked as a tinman in soldering up the loaded cylinders, and contrived to put the air-pipes in good order when the attempt seemed hopeless. Being also one of the most active men in boats or at the capstan, when not employed as an artificer, he and private William Read were appointed lance-corporals on the conclusion of the service.”[[371]] The detachment returned to the corps at Woolwich in the ‘Medea’ steamer on the 6th November, 1839. The working pay of the sergeant-major was 2s. a-day, and the rank and file 1s. a-day each.