Every Man Will Do His Duty (10 page)

The first lieutenant, Edgar, was another strange and unaccountable being. He had sailed round the world with Cook, and was master of the ship Captain Clerke commanded. He was a good sailor and navigator, or rather had been, for he drank very hard, so as to entirely ruin his constitution. He and the captain often quarrelled, particularly at night. I have heard the captain say, “Edgar, I shall get another first lieutenant.” The other would answer, “Ye-ye-ye-yes, sir, another first lieutenant.” The captain again, “Edgar, you are drunk.” “No, sir, bass me if I am.” A day or two before we left Corsica, the captain ordered the sails to be bent and went on shore to St. Fiorenzo. On coming on board late at night he asked Edgar if the sails were bent. This question Edgar could not answer, his memory having failed him; and on the captain asking him again, he said, “Bass me if I know, but I’ll look up,” forgetting it was dark. “You need not do that,” says the other, “for damn me if you can see a hole through a grating.” Then taking a pinch of snuff, part of which blew into Edgar’s eye, he asked him down to supper. This the other readily agreed to, but said, Bass him, if he could see the way.

Our gunner was one of the drollest fellows I ever met with—it was his delight to come on the forecastle in the first watch and sing comic songs to amuse the midshipmen assembled there. “Arthur O’Bradley” was one that he used to sing with a great deal of humour. I believe it contained forty verses. “Bryan O’Lynn” was another which I shall relate, leaving out the lines that may not be liked by those endued with fine feelings.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

They all hid under a hedge together;

But the rain came so fast they got wet to the skin—

We shall catch a damned cold, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

They went in a boat to catch sprats together;

A butt end got stove and the water rushed in—

We’re drowned, by the holy, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother, They all went on a bridge together; The bridge it broke and they all fell in—Strike out and be damned, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

They all went out to chapel together;

The door it was shut and they could not get in—

It’s a hell of a misfortune, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

They went with the priest to a wake together,

Where they all got drunk and thought it no sin—

It keeps out the cold, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

They went to the grave with the corpse together;

The earth being loose they all fell in—

Bear a hand and jump out, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

When the herring was over went home together;

In crossing a bog they got up to the chin—

I’m damned but we’re smothered, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

By good luck got out of the bog together;

Then went to confess to Father O’Flinn—

We’re damnation sinners, says Bryan O’Lynn.

Bryan O’Lynn and his wife, and wife’s mother,

Resolved to lead a new life together;

And from that day to this have committed no sin—

In the calendar stands S
AINT
B
RYAN
O’L
YNN
.

I have left out four verses as being rather out of order. I have heard the old gunner sing this when the sea has been beating over the forecastle and the ship rolling gunwale under. We used to get a tarpaulin in the weather fore rigging as a screen, and many a pleasant hour have I passed under its lee, with a glass of grog and hearing long-winded stories. Alas! how dead are times now. Captain Wallis behaved very kindly to me. I used to dine
with him two or three times a week. He had, as I have stated, strange whims and few men are without them, but his many good qualities threw them in the background, and I have, with grateful remembrance and respect for his memory, to be thankful for his kindness, and particularly for the certificate he gave me on leaving the ship.

Gardner’s ample sense of humor would later come in handy. No doubt it was helpful in passing the tedious hours when he commanded the signal station at Fairlight, three miles from Hastings, from 1806 to 1814. A half-pay lieutenant from 1814, Gardner was retired as a commander in 1830.

Back in England in 1795, a hot press was on. The government of the newly formed Batavian Republic (French-occupied Netherlands) formally allied with France in the month of May, and peace between Spain and France was signed in July. Also in July, Britain’s attempt, at Quiberon Bay, to open a front on French soil, using French Royalist forces supported by British soldiers, failed miserably. New recruits were needed for a planned second attempt. Jacob Nagle, the lower-deck seaman whose account follows, describes an almost feudal atmosphere, with the Army, the Navy, and the East India Company struggling for recruits. A seaman needed some sort of protection to secure any sort of power over his own destiny.

¹
French ships brought from Toulon.
Cf.
Schomberg,
Naval Chronology,
iv. 471. It will be seen that the lists of these squadrons differ from Schomberg’s, which are probably the more correct. The
Alert [which Gardner mentions on page 38]
, for instance, had been captured on the coast of Ireland, in May.—James, i. 439.
[A strong royalist,]
Rear-Admiral
[the comte de]
Trogoff, with his flag in the
Commerce de Marseille,
left Toulon in company with the English
[Toulon was evacuated December 17,1793]
but he died within a few months.—Chevalier,
op. cit.
pp. 90, 91.

²
“Ça Ira!,”
literally “That will succeed!” in French, is an often repeated phrase in a revolutionary song that was sung at many events during the Terror.
“Ça Ira”
was later named the official song of the Revolution.

³
A shirt in the rigging was the recognised signal from a merchantman for a man-of-war boat to be sent on board.

⁴
The Dunciad,
ii. 105. A reference to the original—of which only the tense is here altered—will show the strict appositeness of the quotation.

⁵
At this time peas were issued whole. Split peas were not issued till about 1856—after the Russian war.

⁶
Admiral Sir Clowdisley Shovel had commanded the Mediterranean fleet during the War of the Spanish Succession in 1707. On his passage home, in one of the great disasters in British naval history, his flagship and several others struck the rocks off the Scilly Isles, where he and many others drowned.

R
ETURNING FROM A FIFTEEN-MONTH
voyage to India on board the merchant ship Rose, Jacob Nagle, an able and wily American seaman, arrives in England during a recruiting feeding frenzy by both the Army and the Navy. At thirty-three years old, Nagle, who has served in both the United States Navy during the American Revolution and in the Royal Navy, from which he has already deserted once, is a prime target for the press gangs of both services. Despite being a deserter, which was punishable by death, Nagle seems remarkably cool. Once in the city of London, he is safe from the Army but not the Navy. He seeks the help of Mr. Goodall, who he has described as a “capt’n of troops belonging
[to]
the East India Company”(The Nagle Journal, p. 152). Nagle’s frank presentation of life on shore is one of the most enlightening to emerge from the period.

AT LENGTH
[10 May 1795] we sailed for England with a prosperous and pleasent breese. When we got on the coast of Ingland, we stood well to the westward and made Ireland, meaning to put in there, but making the land we saw seven sail bearing down upon us [17 July 1795]. We took them to be a French squadron as we had intilegence they ware on the lookout for us. Immediately the oldest capt[ain] belonging to the Company ships in the fleet made a signal to form the line, which was done and that so close under each others sterns that the line could not be broken without they run on board of our ships, but we hoisting the Companies colours, they hoisted English. They came down and spoke the Commedore and inform’d they
ware cruising to protect us and likewise to prevent us from going into Ireland to smugel. They pressed 4 men out of each ship.
¹

We then made sail for the Channel of England and having a fine moderate breeze from the westward we fetched round Cilly Roks and bore up Channel. When we passed the Isle of White [Wight], runing for the Downs, we ware brought too [22 July 1795] by the
Dimond
Frigate and boarded us and pressed 23 men out of us, the rest being stowed away amongst the cargo. Coming into the Downs we had to come to an anchor, and 27 of us which the capt[ain] and chief mate wished to save from the press we ware put down amongst the cargo. The men of war sent all their boats along side to press all they could find, but they dare not open the hatches, and all the rest were pressed excepting us 27.

The pilot coming on board with 45 ticket men after dark, they begin to heave up the anchor, but those landlubers new so little about it that they could not get under way. We having some inveleads soldiers on board, the chief mate came down to us to come up and get the ship under way. We put on the soldiers jackets and hats, run up aloft, and cleared away the riging, sheated home, and hoisted the topsails and got hur underway in sailing trim, then went below. The ticket men seeing the activity of us swore we ware not soldiers, and we being shy of them for fear they would give information. While in the whole [hold] we ware supplyed with provisions and grog by our officers.

When we got up to the Lower Hope [25 July 1795], the capt[ain] seeing two large men of war laying farther up, the capt[ain] sent the chief mate to let us know how to act. They lowered the boat down and hall’d hur along side. Likewise he borrowed a boat from another vessel.

Amediately the signal was given, the 27 of us jumped up on the quarter deck and laid holt of a crow bar and pretended to brake open the arm chest which was left open for that purpose, the capt[ain] and mate crying out, “Men, what are you about?” We made no answer, but took a brace of pistols with 24 rounds of catrages and a cutlash each of us and went into the boats and pulled away for the shore. A revenew cutter purceiving us stoped us to overhall for smugled goods. They took chiefly what we had, but did not get all. The capt[ain] hailed the officer and beged he would let us go, as there was three men of wars boats after us. He let us go and we pulled for life. By the time we landed and got on the bank, we paraded in
the meadow. They ware close to the shore by this time and seeing we did not run but determened to fight, they lay on their oars and looked at us for awhile, then returned to their ships again. We got on the road for London. In a half an hour after we fell in with 10 sailors armed with harpoons, and we joined company.

We coming to a small village, we ware informed that 30,000 regular troops ware incamped at the Lower Hope within three miles of us, and the light horse being on the road had orders to take all sailors that they came a cross, and one of them undertook to pilate [pilot] us across the country clear of the high roads.

After refreshing our selves we started. When about half way we had to take part of the main road, but before we got out of it again we fell in with about fourteen light horse beside the capt[ain]. We immediately paraded close a long the fence with our pistols cocked in each hand. When they came abrest of us, they stoped. The harpeners hove there harpoons over there heads, shining like silver. The capt[ain] enquired from whence we came. We informed him. He discours’d with us a considerable time. The solders vewed the harpoons over their heads as they sat on there horses, and seeing us so well armed, 47 in number, he told us he did not wish to trouble us and rode off.

When getting within a mile of Popler, we fell into the main road again and met a general going to camp with six or seven servents attending him. He stoped us to enquire what news from India and what ships had arived. He very genteelly wished us safe to London.

We, ariving at Popler, we gave our pilot a silk hankerchief a peace, which was 27, worth 5 shillings sterling each. He was well pleased and said he had made a great days work. We refreshed our selves at the first public house. We ware informed there was four press gangs in Popler. We sent for two coaches and started for London with the harpeners on the top of the coaches, and going through Popler we kep a continuel firing till we came to the subburbs of London, then discharged all our arms before we entered the citty, as the press gangs are not allowed to press within the citty. At this time it was expected that Bonepart would invade England.
²

We delivered up our arms to the Company at the East India House. In a short time the capt[ain] got us our wages. I remained at the White Swan for a few days, not daring to go out of the citty without a protection.
³

I sent a few lines to Mr. Goodall on Tower Hill. He came to me and took me to his house. He being aquainted with the press master, went to him. It was agre’d I should come over in the evening and he would be there. Accordingly I went into the public house which was only three dores from my boarding house. The gang sitting there, I enquired for the capt[ain] of the press gang. They stared at me, seeing a sailor dressed in India gingams and sattin enquiring for their capt[ain]. They directed me to the stair case, and the landlady showed me up with a light. When I entered, he knowing my business, he told me it would be necessary for me to hail for some man a war in the river that I enter’d for. He said the
Gorgeon [Gorgon]
44 was laying at Woolage [Woolwich] fitting out and would not be ready for see under two month as a Kings storeship. Therefore he gave me a protection as belonging to the
Gorgeon.
I thank’d him and went down stairs.