If Sturges had not written to me yesterday, and I had only my newspapers of this morning to trust to, I should have made out a very good consolatory case from the materials which they furnish. But they are not altogether sufficient to counteract the impression of Sturges’s first intelligence; and I must therefore refer to you for more substantial and certain consolation.
1. If the Emperor of Russia has not given up the game personally; and if he is still in a situation to communicate with the Emperor of Germany, I have hopes that his influence may yet induce the E. of G. to break the armistice, before it has led to peace. It is obviously (upon the map) the interest of Austria to do so.
2. My second hope is from the co-operation of Prussia, but that (which was my only hope yesterday) is a good deal weakened by the resolution which Sturges announced to me of the Russian army retreating through Hungary. Thro’ Hungary! Into Hungary with a view to the first object, I can understand. But a retreat commenced thro’ Hungary at the same moment with the offer to Berlin of the use of Russian armies is more perplexing than encouraging.
3. If the very worst happens that is now threatened—if Austria does make a separate peace, and is abolished as a Power, and if Prussia lies down and licks Bonaparte’s feet, and is forgiven and gets Hanover assigned to her for her submission—still, with Russia unpledged to peace and committed in war, we are better off than we were before the Coalition took place. We must then, I think, set about making a new treaty with Russia with a view to joint negotiation hereafter. But still this is not the hopeless state of things in which (when we were looking at the possibility of it three months ago) we thought we should have nothing to do but to return an answer to Bonaparte’s neglected letter of January last. Nothing like it.
“One of the greatest comforts that you could send me would be the intelligence that you are going on well and getting stout. I did not very much like the late accounts of you.... I take for granted you do not mean to attend the funeral.”[6]
Note.—The last fatal news of Austerlitz was received by Pitt on January 13, 1806, and he died ten days afterwards, on January 23.
ROUTINE ON A BRITISH MAN-OF-WAR—THE REVENGE (1805).
Source.—Clowes’ Royal Navy, 1900. Vol. v., p. 21.
“Our crew were divided into two watches, starboard and larboard. When one was on deck the other was below: for instance, the starboard watch would come on at eight o’clock at night, which was called eight bells; at half-past is called one bell, and so on; every half-hour is a bell, as the hour-glass is turned, and the messenger sent to strike the bell, which is generally affixed near the fore-hatchway.[7] It now becomes the duty of the officer on deck to see that the log-line is run out, to ascertain how many knots the ship goes an hour, which is entered in the log-book, with any other occurrence which may take place during the watch. At twelve o’clock, or eight bells in the first watch, the Boatswain’s Mate calls out lustily, ‘Larboard watch, a-hoy.’ This is called the middle watch, and when on deck, the other watch go below to their hammocks, till eight bells, which is four o’clock in the morning. They then come on deck again, pull off their shoes and stockings, turn up their trousers to above their knees, and commence ‘holy-stoning’ the deck, as it is termed (for Jack is sometimes a little impious in the way of his sayings). Here the men suffer from being obliged to kneel down on the wetted deck, and a gravelly sort of sand strewed over it. To perform this work they kneel with their bare knees, rubbing the deck with a stone and the sand, the grit of which is often very injurious. In this manner the watch continues till about four bells, or six o’clock; they then begin to wash and swab the decks till seven bells, and at eight bells the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to breakfast. This meal usually consists of burgoo, made of coarse oatmeal and water; others will have Scotch coffee, which is burnt bread boil’d in some water, and sweetened with sugar. This is generally cooked in a hook-pot in the galley, where there is a range. Nearly all the crew have one of these pots, a spoon, and a knife; for these things are indispensable; there are also basins, plates, etc., which are kept in each mess, which generally consists of eight persons, whose berth is between two of the guns on the lower deck, where there is a board placed, which swings with the rolling of the ship, and answers for a table.... At half-past eight o’clock, or one bell in the forenoon watch, the larboard watch goes on deck, and the starboard remains below. Here again the ‘holy-stones,’ or ‘hand-bibles,’ as they are called by the crew, are used, and sometimes iron scrapers. After the lower deck has been wetted with swabs, these scrapers are used to take the rough dirt off. Whilst this is going on, the cooks from each mess are employed in cleaning the utensils and preparing for dinner; at the same time the watch are working the ship, and doing what is wanting to be done on deck.
“About eleven o’clock, or six bells, when any of the men are in irons, or on the black list, the boatswain or mate are ordered to call all hands; the culprits are then brought forward by the Master-at-Arms, who is a warrant-officer, and acts the part of Jack Ketch when required; he likewise has the prisoners in his custody, until they are put in irons, under any charge. All hands being now mustered, the Captain orders the man to strip; he is then seized to a grating by the wrists and knees; his crime is then mentioned, and the prisoner may plead; but, in nineteen cases out of twenty, he is flogged for the most trifling offence or neglect, such as not hearing the watch called at night, not doing anything properly on deck or aloft which he might happen to be sent to do, when, perhaps, he has been doing the best he could, and, at the same time, ignorant of having done wrong, until he is pounced on, and put in irons. So much for legal process. After punishment, the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to dinner, it being eight bells, or twelve o’clock; and this is the pleasantest part of the day, as at one bell the piper is called to play ‘Nancy Dawson,’ or some other lively tune, a well-known signal that the grog is ready to be served out. It is the duty of the cook from each mess to fetch and serve it out to his messmates, of which every man and boy is allowed a pint, that is, one gill of rum and three of water, to which is added lemon acid, sweetened with sugar. Here I must remark that the cook comes in for the perquisites of office, by reserving to himself an extra portion of grog, which is called the over-plus, and generally comes to the double of a man’s allowance. Thus the cook can take upon himself to be the man of consequence, for he has the opportunity of inviting a friend to partake of a glass, or of paying any little debt he may have contracted. It may not be known to everyone that it is grog which pays debts, and not money, in a man-of-war. Notwithstanding the cook’s apparently pre-eminent situation, yet, on some occasions, he is subject to censure or punishment by his messmates, for not attending to the dinner properly, or suffering the utensils of his department to be in a dirty condition. Justice, in these cases, is awarded by packing a jury of cooks from the different messes, for it falls to the lot of each man in a mess to act as cook in his turn. The mode or precept by which this jury is summoned is by hoisting a mess swab or beating a tin dish between decks forward.... At two bells in the afternoon, or one o’clock, the starboard watch goes on deck, and remains working the ship, pointing the ropes, or doing any duty that may be required, until the eight bells strike, when the Boatswain’s Mate pipes to supper. This consists of half a pint of wine, or a pint of grog, to each man, with biscuit, and cheese or butter. At the one bell, or half-past four, which is called one bell in ‘the first dog-watch,’ the larboard watch comes on duty, and remains until six o’clock, when that is relieved by the starboard watch, which is called the ‘second dog-watch,’ which lasts till eight o’clock. To explain this, it must be observed that these four hours, from four to eight o’clock, are divided into two watches, with a view of making the other watches come regular and alternate.... By this regular system of duty, I became inured to the roughness and hardships of a sailor’s life. I had made up my mind to be obedient, however irksome to my feelings, and, our ship being on the Channel Station, I soon began to pick up a knowledge of seamanship.”