In a discussion which took place at the Royal United Service Institution some time back, it was generally admitted that our band of hardy fishermen might be made to form an excellent Naval Reserve irrespective of regular seamen of the mercantile marine. 'There are,' it was urged, 'one hundred and fifty thousand men and fifteen thousand boys employed in the fisheries of the United Kingdom; besides the large number in the Canadian Dominion and Newfoundland. It would not be difficult to raise from among our large population of bonâ fide fishermen a Reserve equal to the full standard originally recommended. The drill could be taught in the most efficient manner and with the least expense to the government by sending a gunboat to visit the fishing-boats at the slack season. The local knowledge possessed by the fishermen would be of immense value in coast-defence; and there is an advantage in their having fixed places of residence and never sailing under a foreign flag; added to which is the value of their physical strength, hardy and domesticated habits, and good character.'
And now a few words for the Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers, another body intended for defensive purposes in the event of war. There is a corps known as the Coast Guard, to fulfil service on the coast in case of invasion; and under the same kind of control are the Royal Naval Coast Volunteers. These two bodies together comprise nearly twenty thousand men, all good seamen, and receiving liberal pay. But there is something more peculiar about the Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers likely to interest general readers. They are virtually an offshoot or supplement of the Volunteer Rifles, intended solely for defence against invaders. Who the invader is to be we do not know; haply and happily we may never know; but a thought on the subject now and then is reasonable enough. Our coast-line is very extensive, and needs watching at a considerable number of unprotected spots. Besides regular troops, Volunteer infantry, and cruising war-ships, it has long been felt that a naval artillery corps would be a useful addition for serving in gunboats and mortar rafts, and operating in the new art of torpedo-defensive warfare. A small Marine Volunteer Corps was raised at Hastings about 1863; others were afterwards raised in London, Liverpool, and Bristol; and at length, in 1873, parliament passed an Act sanctioning the formation of a body to be known as the Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers. So far from being men who are paid for their services, these Volunteers have to provide their own uniform and to pay a small subscription to a corps fund; they really enter into the matter con amore, giving time, exertion, and some money for a purpose which may eventually be valuable to our common country. The government provide ships, great guns, rifles, pistols, cutlasses, and other gear for practice. Whether artisans, yachtsmen, or rowing-men would join the corps in any considerable number, could only be known by awaiting the result; but it turns out that clerks—mostly in commercial firms—come forward more readily than any other class. They like the bodily exercise and the open air after many hours of desk-plodding.
The idea is to render these Volunteers handy in the defence of rivers and estuaries, by the management of floating-batteries, armed rafts, and torpedoes. In practising with big guns at such places as London, Liverpool, and Bristol, there are of course neither real shot nor blank cartridges actually propelled from the weapon; a flash and a slight report are all; to run out, point, fire, and re-adjust are the exercises practised; and this is no small work with a sixty-pounder gun. After this big-gun drill, the Volunteers go through their rifle, cutlass, and pistol drill; and the young men are all the better for two or three hours of muscular exercise and ocular training. They wear a useful blue-and-white uniform while thus engaged. The Rainbow gunboat in the Thames off Somerset House, the President in the West India Docks, and two similar vessels at Liverpool and Bristol, are set apart by the Admiralty as drill-ships for the purpose. The total strength is somewhat under seven hundred men, with a naval instructor, petty-officer instructors, lieutenants, sub-lieutenants, shipkeepers, armourers, &c.
Even if never really wanted for river and estuary defence, these energetic young men will have no reason, bodily or mental, to regret the step they have taken—the devotion of a couple of hours occasionally after office or warehouse time to a right good exercise of muscle, nerve, brain, eyesight, attention, and intelligence. It is a national comfort to know that rifle and artillery volunteering are alike free from many of the evils of young men's recreations; they do not tempt to drinking, to betting, nor to dissolute companionship. All honour to those who promoted, and to those who carry out the movement.
[TIM HARGATON'S COURTSHIP.]
He was mother's factotum, big Tim Hargaton. I do not know how she could have managed the farm without his clear head and sound judgment to guide her. He had the name of being the closest hand at a bargain and the best judge of a 'baste' in Innishowen; and I think he deserved it; for mother very rarely lost upon her speculations in cattle, and our animals were famed for their beauty. Tim was not wholly an Innishowen man. By his mother's side he claimed descent from the Scottish settlers of the opposite coast, and much of his cautiousness and shrewdness could be traced to this infusion of kindly Scottish blood. We children had rather an awe of Tim. He ruled the outer world of our homestead with a rod of iron. Woe betide the delinquent who ventured into the garden before the 'house' had been supplied with fruit for preserving! Woe be to us if with profane hands we assaulted his beloved grapes or ravaged his trim flower-beds! I daresay it was very good for us that some one was set in authority over the garden and farm-yard, for we were allowed quite enough freedom indoors, fatherless tomboys that we were. But years passed by; one by one we grew to womanhood. I, the eldest, left home first—to return first; more alone for having been so happy, too happy for a little while. When I returned, a widow, the younger birds had flown from the nest. Mother had no one left but me, and she was growing old; so I cast in my own and my boy's lot with her, and soon became thoroughly acquainted with Tim Hargaton. To him I was 'the young mistress' or 'Miss Ellen;' and I own I felt often at a disadvantage with him. His quiet knowledge of subjects I was utterly ignorant of, his cool rejection of my farming theories, his almost certain success in all his ventures, overawed me; and after a struggle or two I gave in.
I think Tim must have been about forty at this time; but he looked many years younger, being fair and tall and well made, and—a bachelor. He had a merry twinkle in his gray eyes which almost contradicted the firm-set mouth with its long upper lip and square massive chin; from his half-Scotch mother he derived a close calculating disposition, hard to convince, slow to receive new impressions, strong to retain them when once received. From his father roving Pat Hargaton from Donegal, he drew an Irishman's ready wit and nimble tongue, and under all an Irishman's fickle heart, but not his warm affections, which go so far towards amending the latter fault.
Another unusual thing amongst men of his class, he was well to do, and having successfully speculated in cattle on his own account, he had money in the bank and a snug cottage. Yet year after year, Shrove-tide after Shrove-tide—the marrying season all over Roman Catholic Ireland—found Tim rejoicing in single-blessedness; nor could he have had a comfortable home, for his old mother was a confirmed invalid; and as Tim was reported to be 'a trifle near,' he only afforded her the services of a little girl scarcely in her teens. More than once mother spoke to him about matrimony, and as often Tim met her with the unanswerable argument: 'Is it as easy to peck for two as for one, ma'am?' So she ceased bothering him about it.
Now it befell that one bright frosty November day I had despatched Tim to the county town on very important business; and the better to assure myself of the favourable issue of it, I walked to meet him on his return. As the time of his return was overdue, I began to feel rather uneasy, and quickened my steps along the winding sea-side road; but a turn in it soon revealed the reason of Tim's delay. He was walking beside a very pretty country lass; and another, not so young or nearly so pretty, lagged a little behind.