Corporal David Harris, lance-corporals Richard P. Jones and John Rae, and privates John Skelton, John Williams, and Roderick Cameron, made their services apparent in the duty of diving; and several others, particularly privates James Anderson, James Jago, and Alexander M‘Alpine, promised well. Of these second-rate divers Anderson was so far advanced that besides slinging numerous timbers, he probed his way to the dreary bottom of the ship and sent up 18 feet of the keelson. The successful exertions of the whole party attracted admiration, and an immense pile of about 18,600 cubic feet, or 372 loads of timber, got up from the wreck in the summer, was deposited in Portsmouth dockyard, chiefly through their exertions. The divers were six or seven hours a day, and sometimes more, under water, at a depth of sixty or seventy feet; and so skilfully had they learned to economize time and save labour, that all sent up their bundles of staves, casks, or timber, as closely packed together, as a woodman would make up his fagots in the open air. In one haul, corporal Jones sent up fifty-eight such pieces lashed together, and corporal Harris ninety-one! Only one professional civil diver was employed in concert with them for about half the season; and of the five guns recovered, two brass 24-pounders, the most valuable of the whole, and an iron 32-pounder, were got up by corporal Harris. This non-commissioned officer was a most confident and resolute diver, and in Siebe’s dress, repeatedly plunged into the sea, head foremost, for experiment. However safe might have been the apparatus, it required a bold spirit to make the first essay. Lance-corporal Jones, from his superior intelligence, rendered himself eminently useful. He was the first to get to the bottom of the wreck; and to prove his title to the honour, sent up 13 feet of the keel.[[391]] The larboard side, which leaned over when the vessel sunk, had fallen to pieces and was buried in the mud. This was the most troublesome part of the work; and corporal Jones, by tact and perseverance, after removing the timbers on that side, got up 300 superficial feet of outside planking covered with copper, under which he found the original ground on which the larboard bilge rested. His exertions were immense, and the huge pile he recovered, was increased by several tons of iron ballast slung by him. Corporal Harris was no less successful in reaching places hitherto untouched, for he wormed his way down to the floor timbers, found the lee side of the wreck, and came in contact with another foundered ship of some magnitude, from which he tore a couple of timbers and sent them aloft. This discovery was due to an unusual mode of descent in which Harris engaged. He went down from the yawl by the sweeps and was stopped in his course by the unknown wreck. On re-ascending he became entangled in the sweeps and the buoy-line, without, however, experiencing any inconvenience beyond the extra exertion of disengaging himself from their meshes.
The curiosities obtained this season were in chief part sent up by Corporal Harris, and though intrinsically trifling, were regarded with infinitely more relish than the huge masses which made the wharf groan with their weight. Nearly the first article recovered was a human skull—sad relic of that catastrophe which engulfed in a moment so many souls: then came a cumbersome musket with some fragments of arms that might have done honourable service against the foe. Not the least interesting was a stick of sealing-wax with its Dutch advertisement, which translated announced its qualities in these recommendatory terms—“Fine, well burning, fast holding sealing-wax.” Skelton found a dog-collar inscribed with the name of “Thomas Little. Victory. 1781.” The little favourite, no doubt, went down with its young master, who was a midshipman on board the ill-fated ‘Royal George.’ Singular that sixty years after, this simple collar should be dug from the depths, to become a mournful souvenir of its perished owner.
Professional divers during the season could not be obtained, unless at a cost each, sufficient to pay four or five military divers. The latter, paid by the tide, usually earned three or four times as much as the regular working pay of the corps, and their successful exertions supplied work for about 100 men, who were daily employed in removing the timbers, guns, ballast, &c. slung by them. To aid the divers in their labours, large rakes and half-anchor creepers were drawn over the shoal in which the remains of the wreck were lying, by which means much of the mud was harrowed up and cleared away. The timbers of the wreck were thus somewhat exposed, and five, and sometimes six sapper-divers were down at a tide, forcing their way through its dangerous tracks, and sending above its ponderous fragments.
In the course of the season, corporal Jones and private Skelton ascertained a curious fact before unknown in the annals of diving. They met at the bottom, and to their surprise discovered, when standing close together, they could hear each other speak; but the knowledge thus obtained could not be turned to advantage, as the continued effort to speak loudly, exhausted their powers and rendered them unable to hold a connected conversation.[[392]] Skelton also met George Hall in the wreck, to whom he introduced himself in a way sufficiently courteous for divers, by tapping the chêf on the helmet with his iron pricker.
Private Skelton, as on former occasions, made himself conspicuous by his skill and diligence as an artificer and his tact as a diver; and in addition, this season, his gallantry led him to plunge into the sea to save a boy who had fallen overboard, and his father who jumped after him, neither of whom could swim. As the tide was running very strong, Skelton, with great judgment, tied a line round his body, which he made fast to the stern of the ‘Success’ frigate, and then jumped into the sea; but before he reached the drowning boy and his parent, a boat quickly came to hand and saved them.
Alarming accidents, none of which fortunately proved fatal, occurred to lance-corporal Jones, and privates Skelton and Cameron. Corporal Jones had his mouth crushed and some of his front teeth broken by an iron dog, which he had attached to a bull rope bearing a heavy strain, slipping from its hold and striking him violently under the helmet. He was at the time endeavouring to move a piece of timber from the load, when a pig of iron ballast, weighing about three hundred weight, got dislodged and fell upon his helmet. Had not his head been thus protected, he would have been killed on the spot, for it made an indentation in the metal as large as the palm of one’s hand, and nearly an inch deep. At another time, a large floor timber, which resisted many efforts to sling it, was at last in a fair way of reaching the deck, but on heaving on the bull rope, the chain flew off with violence, and struck Jones a blow on the hand, laying bare one of his fingers to the bone. Such was his spirit, however, he remained at the work, though the mutilated limb might readily have excused him from further duty. Anderson, busy at work over the wreck, lost all idea of time, and remained below imprudently long. Meanwhile the tide began to run swiftly, and, losing his ladder which was fixed on the larboard side of the lump, he was carried under it, and came up at the starboard side. The man attending the life-line found, on hauling it, that it pulled against the keel of the lump, and the diver, thus precariously situated, could not be drawn up. At first this had a very alarming appearance, but the evolution which brought him to the surface, took away the danger of the accident, and he alighted on deck without injury. Skelton was coming up from the bottom to permit the firing of a charge, but by some mismanagement in the signals, the explosion took place when he was a few feet from the surface of the water, and the shock injured his chest and rendered him insensible for a short time. Four days afterwards he resumed his place as a diver with his usual zeal and activity. Cameron received an injury by the bursting of the air-pipe connected with his helmet, and when hauled on deck, he was almost dead from suffocation. He recovered, however, after a month’s treatment in Haslar Hospital, and in some respect to compensate him for his suffering, the Admiralty ordered him to receive his subsistence free of expense.
These accidents never for a moment damped the courage of the other men of the detachment, for they were always ready to take the places of the injured divers the instant they were warned for the duty. Not every man, however, who offered, was found capable of diving under such a pressure of water as existed at Spithead. The effect of the weight may be conceived from the fact, that the strongest cask sent down empty cracked like an egg-shell. Twelve sappers, in addition to those named above, essayed to be of service in the art, but several among the most resolute and promising divers after two or three days' trial, were compelled to desist from the duty. Headaches, giddiness, and spitting of blood, were the effects of their exertions. Even of the seasoned divers, not a man escaped repeated attacks of acute rheumatism and cold; and it was not a little surprising to find them returning to the work even before they had ceased to complain of their ailments. Harris, Rae and Williams were really martyrs in suffering; but, nevertheless, they continued to labour at the bottom, even when the sea was high, the weather bitterly cold, and their hands so benumbed, that they could scarcely feel anything that they slung.[[393]]
Second-corporal McQueen returned to the woods in May to resume the reconnaissance and survey of the disputed territory in North America under Captain Broughton, R.E., and Mr. J. D. Featherstonhaugh, Her Majesty’s commissioners. On the 3rd May the Metis lake was gained, where corporal McQueen was stationed in charge of the observatory until the middle of July. Every day for that period he registered, hourly, the barometrical observations of nine instruments with thermometers both attached and detached. On the 18th July he entered the bush again with thirteen Indians and Canadians, and penetrated the forest for forty miles, which brought him to the Metjarmette mountain. Throughout this journey he recorded with great care, at the appointed hours, the indications of the different instruments in his charge, and assisted in the various duties of the survey. The mission returned to Lake Metis by a different route, ascertaining, as it travelled, the sources of the streams in its track, and recording such topographical minutiæ of a particular character as were desirable to elucidate the duties and objects of the enterprise. On the 24th October, corporal McQueen sailed from Quebec viâ Halifax, Nova Scotia, to England, and arrived at Woolwich on the 20th November, 1841. For three seasons he had served with the Commissioners; twice he was the only British soldier with the expedition, and in appreciation of his diligence and conduct, was awarded by Lord Palmerston, in addition to his working pay, a gratuity of 10l.[[394]]
By warrant dated 21st June, 1841, a company of eighty-nine strong, numbered the 11th, and one quartermaster-sergeant, were added to the corps, which increased its establishment from 1,208 to 1,298 of all ranks. The company was raised for Bermuda at the suggestion of the Governor of the colony, in consequence of the impracticability of obtaining artificers among the civil population of the required competency to carry on the works. It did not, however, reach the station—where one company was already employed—until the 2nd April, 1842. The quartermaster-sergeant was appointed for duty at Chatham, and sergeant Thomas Fraser was promoted to the rank.[[395]]
Private Henry Entwistle distinguished himself on the 30th August, 1841, at pontoon practice, by plunging into the rapid stream of the Medway near Rochester Bridge, and at imminent personal risk, rescuing from drowning private Samuel Turner of the corps, who had fallen overboard and was unable to swim. His courage on this occasion gained the admiration of the Royal Humane Society, which awarded him a silver medallion accompanied by a vellum certificate, recording the particulars of his intrepidity, signed by the Duke of Northumberland.[[396]]