active 1835-1883 Thomas Faughnan

ARRIVAL AT TEMPLEMORE—THE ROUTE TO CORK—EMBARKATION FOR GIBRALTAR—QUEENSTOWN—THE VOYAGE—STORM AT SEA—GIBRALTAR.

At ten a.m., after inspection by Colonel McPherson, C.B., who took command of the regiment, vice Styte, who retired, we marched to the Great Southwestern Railway station, the band playing the "British Grenadiers," accompanied by crowds of people, who gave us three cheers as the train moved from the station, the band playing "Auld Lang Syne," and the men waving their handkerchiefs. After a run of one hundred miles in three hours, we arrived in Templemore and marched to our respective quarters. These barracks are built on the same plan as those at Richmond, and large enough for two regiments. The town is small and dull, but the country very pretty. We were here a little over two months when we got the order to proceed to Cork by rail, on the 27th April, there to embark on board two sailing transports, the "Dunbar" and "Cornwall," two sister ships; the right wing to go in the latter, and the left in the former.

War with Russia having been declared on Friday, March the 28th, we all agreed that, though ordered to Gibraltar, before many months would elapse we would have the honour and glory of taking the field shoulder to shoulder with those troops who had already embarked for the seat of war in the East.

April 27th, 1854. The regiment took the train at two p.m., arriving in Cork at five p.m., distance one hundred miles, in three hours. On arrival we were quartered in Cork Barrack that night, next morning we were conveyed to the transports, which rode at anchor in Queenstown harbour, by two small tug steamers. This harbour is unsurpassed for capacity and safety; it is distinguished into upper and lower, the latter is situated eleven miles below the city, three miles long by two broad, and completely landlocked. Its entrance is by a channel two miles long by one wide, defended on one side by forts Camden and Carlisle. The upper portion extends for about five miles below the city to Passage; within the harbour are several islands, the principal of which are, Great Island, on which is situated the fortifications of Queenstown; Spike Island, on which is a bomb-proof artillery barrack, and convict depÔt; Rocky Island, on which are powder magazines excavated in the rock; each side of the harbour is richly planted with ornamental trees and shrubs, studded with beautiful villas, cottages and terraces; and Queenstown deserves special notice, for its magnificent suburban residences of the gentry, interspersed with ornamental trees, well-kept lawns and promenades, elegantly designed churches and chapels, red brick buildings, splendid shops with large plate glass windows, and clean, wide streets, with a fine view of the shipping in the harbour, make it one of the most delightful places in Ireland. The climate being so salubrious, it is much frequented by consumptive invalids.

The right wing were all on board (except some married officers and their families) when each company were shown their berths and mess-tables, after which stowing of knapsacks commenced; the ship's officers were busily engaged telling off the women and children to their berths in the after part of the ship. On the upper deck everything was in confusion; the ship's steward was getting his fresh supply of provisions on board for the voyage, and the sailors stowing away in coops and pens, hens, ducks and sheep; at last the deck was cleared, and things put ship-shape. The rolls being called and all reported present, the watches were then told off. The captain walking the quarter-deck, the sailors and soldiers man the capstan, and the band ready to play, with a stiff breeze off the land. At 3 o'clock p.m. the captain gave the order to weigh anchor, when the band struck up "Rule Britannia," the sailors and soldiers keeping time to the music, manning the capstan. As the anchor was tripped, the sails were unfurled, and we ran out of the harbour, amid cheers from the shore and shipping in the harbour, and were soon bowling along with a stiff breeze on the bow (N.W.). The men were served out with hammocks and one blanket, one tin plate, one panakin to each man, one meat dish, one soup can for each mess; every mess had brought their own pudding clothes. At five the tea bugle sounded, when the orderly men repaired to the cook's-galley for the tea, and served it out in the messes. After tea the men went on deck to smoke, chat, and wonder if they were going to be sea-sick. At five thirty the ration bugle sounded, when the orderly men proceeded to draw rations for next day, which consisted of salt pork and beef, on alternate days, biscuits, flour, raisins, currants, tea, sugar, cocoa, vinegar, mustard, pepper and salt; they made the plum-pudding for dinner, tied it up ready to boil after breakfast next day—so you see Her Majesty cares for her gallant soldiers. The ship was skimming along with a stiff breeze on the starboard bow, all sails set. At six o'clock the boatswain piped down hammocks, when they were all swung, and as the last post sounded at nine o'clock, they all managed to crawl into them. I was on watch from eight to twelve; the wind had been increasing during the evening. I also observed the sky had an angry appearance; the sailors were all busily at work securing every sail and making all taut. The wind had changed in the night and was now blowing hard in our teeth; it was a case of tacking, and for landsmen a very trying affair; all night it blew a gale, the wind still from the same quarter; in the night the sailors had to shorten sail several times, each time the ship was brought round on the other tack with a tremendous lurch, and mess tins, water kegs, and tin dishes were dashed to the other side in frightful confusion. My watch being relieved, I turned in at twelve, and with all the pitching and tossing I slept soundly until I was awoke by the orderly sergeant turning out the men to get their hammocks stowed on deck. When I went on deck to put my hammock in the place appointed, the wind was still blowing hard; I had to hold on to keep my footing; the whole sea was alive, wave chasing wave and bounding over each other crested with foam. Now and then the ship would pitch her nose into the waves even to the bulwark, and dash the billows aside, and buoyantly rise again, bowling along at ten knots an hour though under moderate sail. Breakfast at eight o'clock of hard sea biscuits and cocoa; but many were on their backs in sea-sickness. After breakfast all hands were ordered on deck except the orderly men, who kept the mess in order and prepared the meals. The wind was still very high and the long swells began to tell on the men; the figure-head plunging as usual deeply into the water, and the heads of some of our men hanging in agony over the gunwale and portsill, in the horrors of sea-sickness.

At the sound of the grog bugle at twelve, they all sprightened up, and very few were absent from their half-gill of rum and two waters. When the dinner of salt-beef and plum pudding was served, most of them made appearance. After dinner the sun had shown through the clouds, and the men gathered in groups on deck to smoke and chat. The progress of the ship was a subject of interest; it was the first thing in the morning and the last at night; and all through the day the direction of the wind, the state of the sky, the weather, and the rate we were going at, were the uppermost topics of the conversation. The ship was bounding along very fast, and it was a fine sight to look up at the clouds of canvas bellied out by the wind like the wings of a gigantic bird, while the ship rushed through the water, dashing it in foam from her bows, and always dipping her figure-head into the waves, sending up a shower of spray. There was always something exciting in the ship, and the way in which she was handled astonished us soldiers; for instance, to see the top-gallant sails hauled down when the wind freshened, or a stay-sail set as the wind went round to the east. The hauling in of the mainsail on a stormy night was to be remembered for a life-time; twenty-four sailors on the main-yard at a time, clewing in to the music of the wind whistling through the rigging. The sailors sing out cheerily at their work, the one who mounts the highest or stands the foremost on the deck usually taking the lead, thus—they cheer up—

In comes the rope with a jerk until the "belay," sung out by the mate, signifies that the work is right. Then there is a rush on the deck when the wind changes, and the yards are to be squared as the wind comes more aft. Being relieved at twelve I turned in and slept well until four o'clock, when I was awoke by the watch holystoning the deck, under the charge of the officer of the watch. I need scarcely explain that the holystone is a large, soft stone, used with water for scrubbing the decks. It rubs down with sand. The sand is washed off by water from the hose, the pump being worked by four men, a man directing the nozzle of the hose into every crevice; the force of the water washing every particle of dirt from the hen-coops, sheep-pens and decks. The watch always wash decks in their bare feet, their trowsers turned up above their knees. After the decks are well washed down with water from the hose, they are dried with swabs, and the deck looks as white as a tablecloth; the boards brighten with the work, not a grease-mark or spot of dirt is to be seen; all polished off with hand scrapers; the ropes all neatly coiled man-of-war fashion, not a bight out of place, and the brass-work polished and shining—hard work before breakfast. By six o'clock the decks are all clean and dry and everything looking neat; at nine o'clock the doctor ordered all the women and children on deck; the sun shone through the clouds and all was pleasant, the ship running along with close-reefed canvas. At sundown the wind changed round on her larboard quarter from the north-west, and we were making good progress across the Bay of Biscay; we were getting accustomed to the motion of the ship, and many of the officers and men assembled on deck until a late hour watching our course and looking for our port. On Sunday morning the wind was blowing a gale; during the twenty-four hours we made 190 miles.

At ten o'clock we were all assembled on the main deck for Divine service, which was read by the captain of the ship; the day was fine with a stiff breeze; we were running before the wind at the rate of ten knots an hour; we had slept well all night. Going on deck next morning, I found the wind strong from the north, and the ship going through the water at a splendid rate; as much sail was on her as she could carry, and she was dashing along, leaving a broad track of foam in her wake. There is no resting, but a constant pushing onward; and, as we look over the bulwark, the waves tipped by the foam which the ship has raised seem to fly behind us at a prodigious speed. At ten next morning we found the ship's run during the twenty-four hours had been 200 miles—a grand day's work, nearly equal to steam. We ran well before the breeze all night, until about six in the morning, when the wind changed to our starboard bow, and heavy dark clouds appeared in the distance, and the wind dropped almost to a calm, the sails flapping against the mast all day and night.

Next morning the sailors were busy securing ropes and getting everything ready; they said this calm was but weather breeding, and predicted that we were to have a change. The glass was falling, and we were to look out for squalls. They were not disappointed in their morning's expectations of a gale. Before morning we had it in earnest.

We, novices in sea life, thought we had a severe storm on Friday night, but the sailors only laughed at us when we spoke of it. In our hammocks below we knew that the wind was blowing a gale, that the ship was pitching and tossing about fearfully, and could hear the boatswain's whistle, and the sailors aloft reefing sails, and the waves breaking clean over the deck above us. At two o'clock in the morning a heavy sea struck our starboard side. The concussion seemed like striking against a rock; some were thrown clean out of their hammocks; women and children thrown from their berths, crockery smashed and boxes rattled, trunks, water kegs, tin dishes, plates, pails, and every moveable article was dashed with violence from one side of the ship to the other.

Women and children screamed with fright, and men jumped from their hammocks. For a few moments the ship stood perfectly still, as if stiffened with the stroke, then she shivered from stem to stern, and the timbers groaned and quivered; in a few moments more she was dashing headlong onwards through the mountain of waves. I should think if there were any on board who had never prayed before, they must have prayed now. Both men and women vied with each other in the exchange of good offices and friendly words.

Envy was subdued, passionate wrath and revenge were forgotten, all acted as men and women who were soon to stand in the presence of their God. There was the pure steady and charming light of Christian hope and love shining beneath the very shadow of death. It was a solemn and touching thing to hear so many strong men acknowledge, in that hour of peril, their utter helplessness, and praying Him who once lay on a pillow asleep, "Lord save us we perish"—praying Him to abide with us. The hatches were all canvassed and fastened down, so that none but the sailors and the soldiers on watch could go on deck, the sea was washing over the deck. That was indeed, an awful night, dark, chilling, and drenching; hour after hour passed as we momentarily expected our doom. The deck was continually washed over by great seas. As soon as morning light appeared, I managed to get on deck, though with extreme difficulty, both from dizziness and the motion of the ship. I was determined to enjoy the fresh air and see how the ocean looked, lashed into a tempest. I had to cling fast to keep my footing; the ship was pitching up and down, tossed like a feather in the wind. We rode on huge mountain billows of dark leaden colour, capped with molten glass and tipped with silvery caps of foam. As I hung on to the rope, meditating on the vastness of the ocean, and waves mountains high, my soul was deeply impressed with the omnipotence and infinity of the God who scooped out this mighty abyss, and filled it with those powerful waters. He hath set them their bounds and says to them in their wildest commotion, "thus far, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed."

This dreadful storm raged all day, and the night was terrible; there was no more distance nor space; the sky was turned into blackness, and shut itself down upon the ship, nothing was any longer visible on this the racecourse of the wind; we felt ourselves delivered over to a merciful providence. The men, women and children had their second attack of sea-sickness, even the sailors were sick. The storm raged all next day (Sunday) and night; no one on board could get anything cooked as the fires were all put out from the sea washing over the ship; even if they could, few could eat,—they were all so sick.

THE VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR.

Monday morning at four o'clock the wind changed on our larboard quarter, and suddenly dropped. The boatswain piped all hands to square yards and make sail; this order was hailed by the men, and it soon reached the women, when they all offered up prayers and thanks to God for their deliverance.

The wind dropped considerably, and by twelve o'clock all was quiet, the ship running steadily before the wind.

The usual grog bugle sounded at twelve, when every man made his appearance. At six in the evening the wind fell away altogether. This repose after that fearful storm was an unspeakable blessing; all that had been fury was now tranquillity; it appeared to us a sign of peace; we could let go the rope or stay we were holding on by; the women and children could stand upright and straighten themselves, and walk and move about; we felt ourselves inexpressibly happy in the depths of this heavenly change. All night was almost a dead calm, and it was a blessing; we all slept well after the awful pitching and tossing we had had the last three days. In the morning when I went on deck the sails were flapping, and not a breath of wind. After breakfast the women and children were ordered on deck, when the lower decks were thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned, and when dinner bugle sounded they were allowed to go below. After dinner the upper deck was washed and cleaned. Toward evening the wind changed to our starboard and began to freshen; towards morning we were running before the wind at nine knots an hour. At ten o'clock a.m., I was agreeably surprised when I heard a sailor from the masthead cry out, Land, ho! I found by our captain's eyes that the land lay off our weather beam, but though I strained my eyes looking for the land, I could see nothing. It was quite an hour before I could find it, and then it looked more like a cloud than anything else. At length the veil lifted, and I saw the land stretching away to the eastward, as we neared it, and saw it more distinctly. It looked a glorious object to us soldiers, though we were then ten or twelve miles off, yet the highest peaks, which were above the clouds, some hundreds of feet high, were so clear that they looked as if they had been stolen out of the "Arabian Nights," or some fairy tale of wonder and beauty.

The bluff and lofty headland of Cape St. Vincent, with its sharp detached rock, white light-house, and adjacent convent skirting the edge of the precipice, was the first land that I saw, as the ship bounded upon our glorious waters of Trafalgar bay. All on board were quite recovered of their sea-sickness, as the ship glided across wide bays and along the indented coast of Spain. The ship had soon studding-sails set, and she swept onward like some large bird of prey towards the straits. Tarifa, famous in martial story with its low, flat-roofed houses, backed by barren-looking, sun-scorched hills, was passed and all eyes were turned on the tremendous scragged outline of the African coast rising several thousand feet above the sea. The hazy morning light added to the effect, throwing out in relief the broad stone face and picturesque form of Ape's Hill, streaked with shadowy fissures, crevices and indentations, which the scorching sun failed to touch. But the Spanish side of the straits, through which the blue Mediterranean now became visible, engrossed the larger share of our attention. There stood the bold rock of Gibraltar, rearing its bald crest to the sky, a fit sentinel at the gate of those waters which lave the shores of fallen, but once mighty empires, now the key and glory of Old England. The ship now hoisted her flags, which were immediately noticed at the signal station, on the loftiest part of the range, where a flag-staff is visible against the sky. Some of our officers who were on the rock before, with the help of their telescope could trace many an old haunt. They knew every path on those craggy heights. There was the town behind the old Moorish walls, looking the same as ever; there was the Alameda, the convent, and many other familiar domiciles, peeping from amogst shrubberies and gardens.

At five p.m. we cast anchor in the harbour of Gibraltar, when the ship was besieged with bumboats of vendors in oranges, dates, lemons, figs, and luxuries of almost every kind. Soon after a boat with a yellow flag approached the ship; it was the health officer, who made inquiries of our doctor as to sickness on board, and was answered "All right, No sickness but sea-sickness," when he returned to shore, and afterwards a staff officer appeared who informed the captain that he had got "pratique," when the order to disembark at once was given.