The Life of a Regimental Officer During the Great War, 1793-1815Mockler-Ferryman, A. F. (Augustus Ferryman)
History
The Life of a Regimental Officer During the Great War, 1793-1815
Mockler-Ferryman, A. F. (Augustus Ferryman)
Great Britain -- History -- 1789-1820; Rice, Samuel, 1775-1840
That there should have been a spirit of unrest on board the
transports was not very strange, but the possibility of the
disaffected troops murdering their officers was, of course, only wild
talk on the part of a youthful subaltern. This, however, was not a
very pleasant commencement to a young officer's service, but things
seem to have settled down as time went on, and as more military
officers joined the transports for duty. The only excitement was
that provided by the arrival of a man-of-war, after a successful
engagement. "I saw the _Nymph_," wrote Sam Rice on the 1st July, "as
well as _La Cléopatre_, coming into the harbour. The latter had her
mizzen-mast shot away, and was everywhere, I fancy, considerably
damaged. I have not been on board either of them; in fact, the truth
is, I have not been ashore since they came in. The brave sons of the
Republic, I understand, fought with great courage, as did, as usual,
the sons of Old England. The French captain was killed, or else, you
may depend upon it, the engagement would have lasted till one of them
had gone to the bottom. The _Phaeton_ has taken a very fine French
ship, named _La Prompte_. She only rates as a sloop in France, but is
as big as any of our twenty-eights."
In the middle of July the officers on the transports saw a chance of
sailing with the fleet under Lord Howe, but he had other business
on hand, and went without them. Sam expressed his disgust at his
lordship's conduct. "We thought that we were to sail under the
protection of Lord Howe's fleet, but in that we were disappointed,
for he sailed last Sunday evening without having the politeness to
take us with him. When we shall now sail I know not; but the report
is that it will be very soon and suddenly. It needs be so, for they
have given us a fair spell of Portsmouth. I now know enough of a
transport, which means that I will never go in one again, if I can
get my passage in any other vessel. I almost agree with Dr Johnson
that it is as well to enter a jail as a cabin.[7] We have had a bad
fever on board our ship for some time. Two have died of it, and
many more are ill at the hospital. I should not be surprised if we
were all to take the fever, after being so long confined in these
old rusty colliers, now in His Majesty's service for the purpose
of transporting us to Gibraltar. We are to be joined by seven more
transports, and Colonel Lindsay is to take the command of us all.
He has sent us two thousand cartridges on board, and orders how
we are to act in case of attack by the enemy. If one of us should
be separated from our convoy, and see a Frenchman, we are to run
immediately, and our men to be ordered to go betwixt decks. But, if
the Frenchman sails better than us, and comes alongside, we are,
with all our padding, to board, and play hell and the devil among
them--that is to say, if possible. There has been a great change
among the officers from ship to ship. I am the only one left upon
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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