No object would be served by relating the details of those manœuvres. I shall content myself with one or two remarks upon occurrences that impressed themselves upon me. We left Portland in due course for a week’s manœuvres in the Channel, and Admiral Fitzroy expressed his satisfaction at the manner in which they were performed. We then put into Falmouth to coal and get ready for the battle that would probably take place between the opposing Fleets. By this time the crew and officers had got used to the ship and to one another. We had on board about thirty Naval Reserve men and they fell to my division; the great mistake made was in putting them on board with an insufficient kit. This led to all sorts of excuses being made for them, and it was easy to see that instructions had been given that they were to be treated with a very light hand. This they were not slow to discover. They were not a bad lot, but it was unsatisfactory to me to have to handle them under those conditions, and when the captain expressed his satisfaction at their general appearance, I had to take it seriously, but knew that Falstaff’s regiment must have been in his thoughts. The matter of inferior appearance by some members of a ship’s company is no trifling matter.
We left Falmouth one evening to cruise off Ushant, waiting for a declaration of war. We knew the plan of manœuvres but not the exact hour of commencement. It was blowing freshly from the S.W. and the Devastation with her low ends was like a half-tide rock. In fact only the superstructure was negotiable, and the greatest care had to be exercised to prevent water from getting below; even then there was a fair quantity on the maindeck. But she had this advantage—when every vessel in company was rolling we were almost motionless; certainly we never had the fiddles on the ward-room table. The Resolution rolled badly, and had to haul out of the line to try and secure a boat which came to grief. Life in the small craft must have been wearisome in the extreme, for they had a motion that approximated in speed to the pendulum of a clock.
When the appointed time arrived our Fleet started off up the Irish Channel, and one day at noon all the cruisers were sent on ahead at full speed to try both to elude the enemy and to join hands with our friends separated from us by an opposing Fleet. They parted company from us like a flock of swallows, and then came the turn of our battleships to put on full speed, for the admiral had determined to push on, leaving us as slowest ship to make the best of our way after him. I shall never forget that run. The night was dark, we were showing no lights, and the foredeck was one mass of white creaming water. We saw lots of ships, but there was no trouble in keeping clear of them, and I am not sure that the sight in the engine-room was not as interesting as any, for there was no difficulty in keeping steam, and the engines were being driven for all they were worth, all being done without the least trouble or fuss. About nine o’clock the next morning we sighted our Fleet, which was hanging back for us, as they had sighted their enemy. In a short time we were all at it as hard as we could go, engaged in the sham battle of South Rock. Two things were noticeable. In the middle of it all a Norwegian sailing collier drove down through the contending lines, which had to keep clear of her; and, secondly, the splendid appearance of Admiral Dale’s Fleet as they came to our assistance headed by the Empress of India and the Repulse. As is usual in such matters both sides claimed the victory. After this the hostile Fleets separated, we putting into Belfast and our adversaries into Queenstown, but as there was no certainty that hostilities were over we got out torpedo-nets for the night. They were not wanted, however. On our way to Portsmouth on the return trip we had some time at our disposal. It was a fine August afternoon in mid-Channel; all the ships stopped their engines and turned eight points to starboard; those ships which had a band used it; the men were piped to bathe, and some boats were used for visiting purposes. The impression left on my mind was that our “home was on the deep,” and that the custom of centuries would keep it inviolate.
In due course we got to Spithead, where I left the ship, and so practically ended my sea career. I landed with a very decided opinion that there was a deal of truth in the old adage that “standing rigging makes bad running gear.” I had been in command so long that a subordinate position irked me, although I trust that fact was never apparent. Still I feel confident that for a man to become a satisfactory Reserve officer it is necessary he should get his experience as early as possible, and it is matter for satisfaction that this has now been recognised.
I quitted the sea with deep regret, and were my time coming over again, I should, even with my present knowledge, unhesitatingly adopt it as a calling. But if Britons value their heritage “the sea” they will see that British ships are manned by British men, and take some pains to bring this about by encouraging the youth of the country to adopt the sea as a calling. It is a man’s life in a properly found and officered ship; it is also necessary that, as I have pointed out on many occasions, our long-sea-route steamships should be given the means to protect themselves against the guns of a hostile merchant vessel that has been armed for the special purpose of preying upon our commerce.
THE END
Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained.