There have been many ugly ships afloat—the Basuto, for instance—but for sheer naked ugliness and brutality unashamed, the Asiatic must be given the palm. She was built at some north-country port, and had a bow like a circular haystack. When she was light and a breeze was blowing, very nice handling was required to prevent her taking charge herself. But she had her good points: for one thing there was a decent compass, and she handled well in fine weather; for the rest she was comfortable enough at sea, but had not been well attended to as regards her upkeep, and wore a slovenly aspect altogether. This I at once set myself to remedy, and she presented a vastly different appearance the next time she came into Southampton. We of course were on the intermediate service, but when we arrived at Zanzibar for some reason there was great jollification going on, in which we participated. I gave a dinner and ball attended by every lady in the place, except two—the French consul’s wife and sister. They were absent, as the captain of a French man-of-war told me in strict confidence, because the unmarried sister’s dress was prettier than that of madam. The fact remains that we mustered, I think, eight ladies, and they were very well pleased. What was of more importance, however, to my mind, was a shooting match got up between the officers of the cable-laying ship, H.M.S. London, and ourselves. The London found the rifles and the ammunition, and P. G. VanderByl, one of the lieutenants, was in charge of the London team. I had known his people at the Cape for years past, and was afterwards shipmates with him in the old Devastation. We sailed up the harbour in one of the London’s sailing cutters; they had several, and very fancifully named they were—after the names then in vogue on the front pages of waltz music. This one was called Olga, and she was navigated and conned by VanderByl as if she had been a battleship. It is, perhaps, needless to say that we were fairly well provided also for a picnic. I had in my team a great big hulking quartermaster whom I had seen do very well on the range at home, and I was relying upon him and some of my officers to make a good show. To make a long story short, the Londons shot abominably, and we did rather worse, the cable ship being a bad third. My quartermaster was a distinct failure. The Londons were delighted to find they were not beaten, for it turned out afterwards that their captain would have been vexed had they been. It was at this time that I made the acquaintance of Captain Ouless, R.N., who was navigator to the London. I always found navigating officers most willing to help a shipmaster with the time, or any information that may be at their disposal. I fancy it was on this voyage also that I first met H. M. Stanley. I was taken by one of the officers from the consulate, a nice fellow named Holmwood, into a large, low, fairly light room. A small white man was leaning against the wall, and squatted all round the room were the men Stanley was engaging for his trip to the interior. It was a rather remarkable gathering, but if the truth be told, neither then nor afterwards did he give me the impression of being the remarkable man he in reality was. There was also in the port that beautiful yacht the Lancashire Witch, afterwards bought by the Admiralty for a surveying craft. She was owned by Sir Thomas Hesketh, but I do not remember making his acquaintance. The Sultan’s forces were then under the command of a British naval officer named Matthews, and it was very remarkable the success that attended his efforts. His men regarded him with immense respect and veneration, and would have gone through fire and water for him. It was quite a sight to see them drilling in the square in front of the palace. I ought also to say that the Sultan was most generous in providing horses for visitors who wished to ride. He had a sort of a henchman called Mahomet, who spoke very good English, but was not, if my memory serves me, an unswerving Mohamedan, for at times he admired the wines of France. Although afflicted badly with elephantiasis, a very common complaint there, he would always manage any little matter that might be required on shore, but naturally he liked his perquisites and saw that he got them. If report spoke correctly, he could have told the tale as to how the death of gallant Captain Brownrigg, R.N., was brought about, but as I cannot state facts it is little use talking over that sad story.
There were quite a nice lot of passengers for the homeward trip from Natal and the Cape, amongst them a newly married couple, the bride being a very beautiful Dutch girl. Before we left the Cape there was quite a gay time. One day we started out in a drag for a picnic at Newlands, but it came on to rain badly. There was a man I knew lived near to where we were, named Raphael Bensusan, and he was a good fellow, so we drove up to the house. He was not in, but his brother, or a male relative was, and he joined us in our picnic on the floor of the dining-room, for as it happened the house was half shut up. That was a very jolly afternoon, and the day ended with one of those balls in the Exchange Building that went far to make Cape Town one of the pleasantest places to know.
The following story is absolutely true, and shows how circumstances at times seem to try and assist the hangman to put the rope round the victim’s neck. It was my custom when in command to sleep in the afternoon, and then remain about well into the middle watch. In the Asiatic my cabin was at the fore end of the saloon on the starboard side. One night, about half-past twelve, I was sitting up with a Captain Le Breton, smoking and yarning. The door was open, windows and ports also, for the night was very warm. This was before the time of electric lamps, and my cabin was lit by a moderator lamp, and another one hung in the saloon, for ordinary cabin lights were extinguished at 11 p.m. save when by the doctor’s orders they were kept burning. Suddenly in rushed a girl, yelling that some one was looking into her cabin through the porthole, and asking to be saved, flung herself down in a chair, and went off into a faint. Just at that moment a puff of wind blew my lamp out, a thing that had not happened before to my knowledge. Then I went for the lamp in the saloon, which also went out, after which I got the quartermaster’s bull’s-eye, and went and called the stewardess, who took the frightened girl back to her cabin and put things straight once more. When I and my companion were alone again I asked him, if he was on a jury, would he believe in such a combination of circumstances, and he gave an unhesitating No, and I can certainly say, Neither would I.
The Asiatic got back to Southampton looking so smart that she hardly knew herself. It’s really wrong to make fun of my ship, but on her first voyage, when she was commanded by Captain Coxwell, the commodore, on her arrival in Algoa Bay he was chaffed by his acquaintances upon his skill in bringing in his ship stern first, for they pretended to believe that no vessel in existence could have a bow like the Asiatic. They might almost have been forgiven for the belief.
Back now once more to the African, for as far as seniority went I was in my proper place there. The directors had come to the conclusion that they would run a monthly line to Hamburg, in connection with the intermediate service to Zanzibar, and the African was the first one to undertake this business. Our chairman, Mr. Giles, who had carried out engineering work at Cuxhaven, thought it fair to masters to send them over first as passengers to let them see what the Elbe was like before taking their ships there. This was a considerate act, for a frozen river was a novel experience to me, if not to others. I therefore took passage in one of the General Steam Navigation ships. The Elbe was frozen over, and it was curious to see the steamer charging a great floe of ice and splitting and rending her way through it all. The main difficulty, however, appeared to be that the injection water occasionally froze, and there they had to use a special contrivance for blowing steam through the injection plate. I duly wired that information home, but no notice was taken of it, and I had just the same bother in the African. One could not help being impressed by the iron order imposed upon all and sundry in Hamburg. The people lived by rule, and they lived well; the docks were in excellent order and far better fitted than were ours, either in London or Southampton. I was taken by the Company’s agent to a ball where the admission was sixpence. It was 2 a.m. and there were about three thousand people of the working class present, but not a sign of rowdiness or any one the worse for drink. It was something of a revelation, but there was a great deal more to be learned than that. I suppose I, as most young Britons of the period, had the idea firmly fixed in my mind that we were the one people in the world, and that no one else counted. Our agent was a very nice fellow, and we never had the smallest friction, but somehow or other he managed to convey to my mind that there was a nation of Germans that intended to become, as they thought themselves then, top dogs of the world. I have mentioned an earlier instance of this already.
I saw all I could and went back to bring my ship over, and if any one is under the impression that the North Sea is a nice place to navigate they are welcome to their belief. It is not mine. I suppose that in time those trading there become accustomed to it, but it must make seamen of them, and this factor should be taken into consideration when appraising the worth of our Teutonic cousins as possible rivals at sea.
It is undoubtedly a good thing to have a change of route. Constantly trading between the same places is pleasant in many ways, but you see little that is fresh, and the mind has a tendency to run in a groove, which is not healthy. And again, fresh faces and places sharpen your wits, and remove the impression that you have learned all that there is to know.
A first trip up the Elbe in the winter time was a fine corrective for any feeling of stagnation. The Company was kind enough to supply us with a North Sea pilot, a shipmaster acquainted with those waters, but I had no idea of letting him do aught else than consult me. In this case he was not anxious to assume any responsibility, but arriving one night after dark at the mouth of the Elbe, we got on board as a pilot a little old man, who gave one the idea of Rip Van Winkle. There was a lot of ice coming down, and I was considerably surprised when the pilot asked me to put the anchor down with the ship making at least six knots through the water. It was quite all right, however, and next day we got to Hamburg.
My instructions were to give a dinner and entertainment to some of the shipping magnates, and that I proceeded to do, sending out invitations on the advice of our agent. The eventful evening came round, and I had had some doubt for a day or so as to the strict sobriety of my chief steward. As dinner was proceeding I looked backwards where I could see the pantry, and then observed the steward in a helpless state of inebriety. He caught a look from me that would have sufficed to wither an anchor, but he was too far gone to be affected. My own personal servant and the head waiter pulled us through, however, all right. The dessert was hardly on the table when one of the guests was on his feet proposing the health of the Kaiser, and the rest got up and yelled “Hoch” enough to lift the deck beams. I sat fast and said nothing, for the situation was an awkward one. I was host, but it was a British ship, and our Queen had to come first, so when the national ebullition had died down, I got on my feet as I said to propose the first toast of the evening, “The Queen and the Kaiser.” That was perhaps too great a concession, but it was better than discord under the circumstances. It was duly honoured and the rest was harmony, for I had provided music. My servant at that time was a perfect attendant; I scarcely needed to tell him anything, for he had the faculty of anticipating my wishes. There was one of the guests who was needlessly pro-German throughout the evening, but at the end of it he had to be put into a cab and sent home. I fancy that for his final brandy and soda he must have had brandy and gin. I gave no instruction or hint on the matter, but I had the impression that honours were about easy at the finish. A day or so afterwards he came to wish me bon voyage, but he did not seem very well, and I doubt if he meant it. It was so cold in Hamburg that the steam winches on deck had to be kept moving all night when not in use, to prevent them freezing, and as the ice-breaker was not then properly at work we had to cut our own way through the ice going down the river. When we got back to Southampton the ship’s sides at the water line were bare of paint, and the steel side was as bare as a knife and the same colour.
When we reached Natal in the course of that voyage, we heard of the outbreak of the first Boer war, which commenced by the shooting down of one of our regiments without any declaration of hostilities. I will only say this, that the feeling between the Dutch and the British was then, and for many years afterwards, so acute that the last Boer war was the inevitable outcome of it, and for this state of things I, in my own mind, have always considered Mr. Froude and his friends responsible. Left to themselves, the Boers would have accepted the ruling of Sir Bartle Frere, had his administration in the Transvaal been carried out as he intended it should be.