The island of Sardinia affords several good anchorages for fleets and squadrons in particular winds: Orestana Bay, St. Peter, St. Antonio, Cagliari, from the south-west to the south side, and Terra Nova Bay on the north-east; besides many others for single or few ships. Porto Conti, for instance, on the north-west part of the island, is a very safe one. Our noble and gallant chief used to manage to get us fresh beef twice a week—that is to say, so many live bullocks were embarked on board each ship, and we killed them as we wanted them—by which means, with the assistance of oranges that were procured occasionally, few cases of scurvy occurred in the fleet, notwithstanding our long stay at sea. But as for articles of luxury—tea, potatoes, soap, and other sea stores for our messes—we had none.
The inhabitants of Sardinia were as wild as their country; the mountaineers and lowlanders generally were engaged in a kind of petty war with each other. Both parties always went armed, and murders frequently took place. At one of the anchorages in the straits, another mid and myself were attending a watering party—one of these fellows rode down with a bag of cheese, made of goat’s or sheep’s milk, for sale; he was armed with a long gun and pistols, and we had no firearms with us. Some dispute in the bargaining, for the want of understanding each other’s language, arose; the Sard, very coolly mounted his horse, and taking up his cheeses, rode off a short distance, and fired at us; the ball passed through the sleeve of the mate’s coat, and near my head; he then galloped off, reloaded his gun, rode up, and gave us another shot, but luckily without injury.
A midshipman of the Victory was killed by these fellows a short time afterwards in consequence of some dispute about the hiring of a horse that had been brought down by these wild folks to the beach. The poor mid, anxious for a ride, gave the rascal a dollar, mounted the horse, and rode backwards and forwards for an hour on or near the beach. The Sardinian wanted his horse, the other thought he had not had his dollar’s worth of riding, and a warm dispute ensuing, the Sard most deliberately shot at him with his gun, and broke his arm, so close up that it was necessary to take it out of the socket. He bore the operation well, poor fellow, but a fever afterwards came on, which carried him off. Lord Nelson tried to get satisfaction, but in a wild country like this, without law or justice, it was found impossible. The offender made his escape to the mountains, and nothing further was heard of him.
Shooting parties occasionally took place, but, not having dogs, the sportsmen were seldom rewarded. Although some kinds of game were numerous, and flocks of blue pigeons, to the amount of thousands together, were seen, few were brought on board, for no person dared follow them far for fear of the wind changing, when we knew the fleet would sail immediately to regain our station. Previous to the Spanish war we were sent by his lordship, in the Renown, to the Bay of Rosas, in Catalonia, to procure bullocks and oranges for the fleet, where we remained long enough to have our clothes washed—a luxury we stood much in need of.
Our long cruise of near fourteen months off Toulon, amidst nothing but gales of wind, and heavy storms of most terrific thunder and lightning, met with no reward in the shape of prize-money.
One man-of-war schooner, of 12 guns, called the Renard, and half-a-dozen small French vessels, were the only captures made by the fleet during the above period; these, with the exception of the schooner, not being worth sending into port, were destroyed. A lieutenant of the Renown, and myself, went to Malta in the Renard, and shortly after rejoined our ship off Toulon, in the Narcissus frigate.
One of the marine officers had a monkey on board, who used to amuse us with his gambols; but was rather fond of biting, for which he received occasionally a beating from us youngsters. This brought on a coolness between his master and us, and led at last to open war.
A cabal was formed to get Jacko a licking from his own master, by letting him loose from his chain in the marine officer’s cabin, that he might do some mischief; and the time chosen was when his best clothes were put out ready for him to dine with the captain.
We knew F. was invited that day, because we had seen the captain’s steward ask him, and his own servant go into the marine officer’s berth (he had one in the gun-room, on the lower-deck, where we messed), and lay out his best coat, epaulet, white trousers, etc.; and after making all other preparations necessary for the toilet, leave the cabin, lock the door, put the key in his pocket, and go away.
Now was the time for action. A mid of the name of O., the leader of all mischief, undertook to get into the cabin through the lower-deck port, by going on deck, then into the mizen chains, and from thence by a rope’s end made fast under his arms. We let him down through the port on the lower-deck into the cabin, and he untied the monkey. This being done, we returned into the gun-room, and peeped through the key-hole and cracks to see Jacko’s manœuvres.