Part 2

Since I last sat down we have made about 100 miles. On Sunday we were hailed by the _Prince_, the ship in which are our other three comrades--Captain Lefebure (our commandant), Nicholas, and Hoste. They told us on board the _Prince_ that the Toulon fleet was out, and being too strong for Sir John Orde, he had put in to Gibraltar, and that they expected we should put in to Lisbon--a slender protection!!

We were more than half inclined to credit this, as we believe that Sir John Orde has not more than five sail, and the French might be reinforced from Ferrol.

Our convoy is, we think, very inadequate, because the loss of this little army would be a sad damper to England, particularly from the nature and quantity of stores, and the six Royal Engineers attached to it!!!--only the “_Queen_,” the “_Dragon_,” and a “_Bomb_.”

A breeze springing up last night had been preceded by the appearance of a shoal of porpoises, which took a westerly direction, and whose novel gambols and beastly black appearances amused us much.

The _Queen_ made signal to bring up and lay to, which we did all the night. We supposed that she was waiting for the _Dragon_, who had left us at mid-day to reconnoitre, and we began to consider how we should like a French prison.

This morning the _Dragon_ returned, and we suppose all clear, as we are now on our voyage with a smart breeze.

We see the coast of Portugal very plain, and can distinguish with the naked eye the buildings immediately on the beach, and with a glass we discover further into the country, which appears beautiful.

We have met shoals of Portuguese fishing boats, and to-day we have been much amused with the sight of a sea-monster of immense size. He frequently gave us very good views of his grand tail, and he was attended by a foreign suite, inhabitants of the surmounting element. His tail was forked, and on one side he displayed a jetty brightness, and on the other a dazzling white. He gave us glimpses of other parts of his body, which increased our respect for him. He was, I should think, two miles distant, and yet we saw him perfectly distinct.

* * * * *

OFF LISBON ROCK, _May 5, 1805_.

We have had blowing weather from the south, but I stood it seaman-like this time. The weather now quite calm. The Ordnance agent is on board. He confirms late reports of the Toulon fleet of twenty-one sail being out, and that Lord Nelson is after them, but not, as we thought, off Cadiz, in which case we expected to put into Lisbon. What they may do I fear! Lord Nelson has but ten. Is he to strive with impossibilities and get the better of them?

The Admiral sending despatches to England, I seize the opportunity.

God for ever with his blessings surround us in one happy circle.... Adieu. We soon shall meet again.

CHARLES BOOTHBY.

_May 7._--Put in to the port of Lisbon.

The orders issued to the troops are to be ready to land at a moment’s notice with artillery and every preparation of war in case of emergency, but no one allowed to go on shore on any account whatever.

Hence we conceive that some attempt from the French fleet (said to be at Cadiz) is thought possible; and should it approach the Tagus, the Commander-in-Chief had determined to land his forces and seize the batteries commanding the river, and this, we conceived, would be excellent fun. Meantime, however the orange groves might tempt us with their fragrance and their verdure, no one was allowed to land. The Portuguese boats, though, brought us off plenty of oranges still attached to their green branches, which tickled the imagination to heighten their zest, and to quench our salt-sea thirst after fruit and freshness.

The _Orpheus_ frigate (it is said) sends intelligence into the Tagus that Lord Nelson blockades Cadiz with such a force as the combined fleet dare not encounter. Whatever the intelligence was, however, it produced orders to sail.

We hear that General Junot blustered a good deal at a British armament entering the Tagus, and declared that the first man that set foot on shore should be the signal for his departure. He was spared the trouble, however, for this afternoon we set sail, having received orders to be on the alert to repel any attack from gunboats as we approached the gut of Gibraltar. Good amusement in drilling all hands on board to the service of the great guns and small arms.

_May 12._--A beautiful breeze brought us off Cadiz, where we passed through great Nelson’s fleet, lying to, and, as we imagined, blockading the combined fleet, who had by this time got to the West Indies. We were now at the point where precaution was necessary.

As junior I took the first watch. A most beautiful moonlight night showed to admiration the coast of Barbary, terminated by Ape’s Hill, and on the other hand the not less sublime outline of the Spanish land.

The moon with her immeasurable column on the waters, silvering the prominent points in the dark grandeur of these newly seen and far-famed shores, while the fleets in quiet approached it with swift wings, and the keel-ploughed deep seemed kindling with diamonds and with fire--a sight never, never to be forgotten! Nor do I know the price that (after experience of its sublimity) could have bought this watch from me.

I felt sure that if any attempt were made on us, we should distinguish ourselves, but the blessed wind was too fair and strong, and the whole fleet glided along in silent and unspeakable triumph, the elements that had opposed now inviting to accelerate our speed, the sparkling waves pursuing but to push us forward, and the winds never drawing breath from our full canvas, transparent with the peerless moon. Lewis took the second watch, and in four hours I was again to relieve him, but before they had elapsed he came into the cabin and told me I need not disturb myself, as we were close under the Rock. But we had scarcely composed ourselves before a desperate cannonading began. Up we both jumped, and being nearly dressed, ran on deck cursing the gunboats. But it was only the Spanish batteries saluting the dawn of the birthday of the Prince of Peace!!!

However, the wonderful and beautiful Rock would not let us leave the deck until broad daylight had unfolded all its features. To be so first seen, uprising like the very wall of heaven, and tracing its giant outline upon the dark blue of night, while mortals in their little ships are bounding upon the liquid diamond that bathes its foot, was fortunate, for of all the shows and sights I have ever seen, none so transfixed me with delight and splendid novelty as this glorious Pinnacle of Rock. Close to it we seemed, its peopled and fortified steep rising above us high up into heaven, light above light moving upon the rich darkness of his umbered face, so that to see where his long uneven ridge ended in the sky, the spectator’s head must hang back between the shoulder-blades. After a short sleep, curiosity called us early on deck, and it is impossible to conceive a scene more busy, beautiful, and variously attractive to an inexperienced eye than the Bay of Gibraltar at this time presented. In the first place, even to the most sedate mind, there is a sort of magnificent personality in the form and situation of the Rock fortress itself, difficult indeed to describe, but impossible not irresistibly to feel. There he rears himself proudly out of the blue water into the blue sky, while all around within the sweep of his thunder lies in uniform subjection. Vast mountains and bold shores shut in the horizon, but they approach not him; in the heart of a great kingdom, in the midst of enemies, within his own circuit he is unapproachably supreme. The moment friendly ships come within his shadow, the foe ceases to pursue, and retires in acknowledgment of his power.

On the other side of the Bay, the Spanish port and depot of Algeciras, about seven miles distant, furnishes, in time of war, objects of continual interest. Swarms of gunboats are assembled there, as well as in the African fortress of Ceuta, fifteen miles distant (other side of Gut), and in unfavourable winds infest, damage, and sometimes carry off the merchant vessels as their prey in the very sight of the impregnable fortress, whose garrison, from their parades and quarters, can quietly behold every vicissitude of their running contests, exhibited on a scene beautiful beyond all description. The two fortresses, as daylight ceases and again returns, hear each other’s warning gun, and know that either keeps its watch, while vessels constantly approaching from east and west bring produce and intelligence from every part of the world, and every ship that arrives or passes through the Straits is subject to the inspection of every individual. No need to look into the arrivals--all passes under review, and each inhabitant has a place on that high theatre from which to contemplate the spectacle at his own pleasure.

Thus when our friends informed us when the combined fleet had gone up or down, and how long after Lord Nelson had followed (viz. a month), they told us not what they had heard, but what each officer had seen for himself, and had counted as the number of each fleet.

In good time some very old and early friends come off to invite us to the shore, and, to our inexpressible joy, leave is given us to land. We are not, however, to sleep on shore, and receive the most exact caution to be ready at a moment’s notice, as the greatest expedition will be made to proceed. My excellent little friend Archer, with whom I had been educated, was one of those who came alongside our ship to welcome his old friend and playfellow and to do the honours of Gibraltar.

It was now we were made acquainted with every point and chronicle of the Rock--where formerly endangered, where subsequently strengthened, whence terribly remembered by the enemy. These were subjects involved in a labyrinth which the practised eye of our Commandant could unravel at a glance, and in two days he knew more thoroughly the strength and power of this fortress than many a brave officer resident upon it for half his life.

Some fear subsists that we shall be detained some time at Gibraltar. We are still obliged to sleep on board, and to use precautions in case of attack from the gunboats. If the expedition is broken up, some of us may be ordered to remain. Should I like it or no?

It is a great local confinement, and often entails spare sea diet, but there are garrison amusements, balls, private theatricals, and the most delectable library I ever saw for a not learned man; the apartment splendid, the prospect beautiful, the arrangement admirable, the decorous stillness of those who enter most auspicious, and the terms very easy and encouraging--a trifling half-yearly contribution and entrance of three days’ pay conferring a perpetual share. Bathing in extreme luxury. Also the corps to which I belong have a most gentlemanlike and well-regulated mess, and handsome quarters most enviably situated. So that however disappointed I should be in ulterior views, I determined to think I might be worse pleased than by being ordered to remain here. Yet I learn from friends at headquarters that Sir James Craig by no means expects that his army will be dispersed or its ulterior object changed.

_June 15._--_In statu quo_, thoroughly tired of the place by this time, and most anxious for despatches to send us on our way.

From this day till June 17th an alarm of preparations amongst the gunboats of Algeciras obliges us to remain on board, and this day it seems we are about to sail. Exceedingly rejoiced at those symptoms of departure, and hoping that the fine western breeze is to take us swiftly up the Mediterranean. No such thing. We beat about, now the African and now the European coast, in delicious weather, and the going quite close in to these bold shores, so as to contemplate their picturesque beauty, takes off much of the tedium of shipboard. The African side in point of beauty is not comparable to the Spanish--few tracts of coast, indeed, could rival, none exceed it, or the happy, brilliant accidents of night or day, of dawn or sunset, in which we were perpetually viewing it. The object of this cruise was to elude a meditated attack from Algeciras, as so large and spread-out a fleet of ships (not of war) were particularly liable to surprise, damage, and disablement where the enemy is always so near, the night so dark and starlight clear, and weather so serene for sudden operations.

_June 25._--The fleet now commences its voyage, and we observe the _Lively Frigate_, having Sir James Craig on board, make all sail, and soon she vanishes from our view.

The voyage is only memorable to me from the unspeakable splendour of the sun’s setting and rising, which I chanced often to contemplate transfixed with wonder.

Towards the end of three weeks a good breeze, which had brought us off the island of Gozo, fell from us, and left us nearly becalmed about twenty miles from the harbour of Valetta, giving us full leisure to view the nature of the coast and the face of the country.

Great was our curiosity to see the mode of living on that brown island,[1] of which fame had spoken so much.

When in England we get into a chaise to be driven to some place of note not seen before, we all know there is a sort of interest and stretching of necks as we come near to form some notion of what it will be like. But how much greater the interest when we get into a ship, spread our sails to the wind and our keel to the dark blue water, and set forth to visit some far-famed island long heard and read of as a far-distant thing, and now find ourselves skirting along swiftly by the very shore that girdles in its cities and its wonders; and the more barren, rocky, unadorned, and forbidding the first range of the shore we approached, the more we thirsted to see the high bastion of the capital frowning over the bright blue deep.

_July 18._--A light air rose with the morning and wafted us into the harbour of Valetta. Here, as at Gibraltar, some of our comrades come off to welcome us, and though unknown at present, the strong bond of belonging to the same service, wearing the same coat, and hatched, as one might say, in the same military shell, induces them to hold out to us the ready hand of brotherhood and friendship.

Impatient as we were to get on shore and satisfy our curiosity, we had for the present enough to do in remarking the grandeur of the buildings, the spaciousness, security, and many branches of the harbour, and, above all, the stupendous character of the fortifications.

Valetta altogether appeared to me the most magnificent city I had ever beheld. Everything contributed to imbue the scene with traits fit for some splendid picture of growing Carthage; nothing mean or sullied, nothing to stain the clear clean hue of every colour; the sea, the sky, the transparent air, the chiselled stone, the native rock--all seemed as stainless, bright, and _soignée_ as a Venetian painting, while the masses of shipping of every description, whose decks displayed a masquerade of divers costumes, brought the image of all nations before us, the gondolas and open boats, with gentlemen dressed as if for Court, with powdered heads uncovered, under umbrellas of every colour, and wearing silk coats, looking so enviably cool as they touched from ship to ship. All was so curious, so undeniably _abroad_, that we loved to realise all the anticipations of imagination, and might, I doubt not, have been amused during a much longer confinement than it was our lot to encounter.

_July 19._--One day was all the trial our patience underwent, as on the 19th we were permitted to land and regale ourselves, like children, with touching and turning over the forms we had been viewing at a distance. From the point at which we landed, to which the fine streets of the city themselves descend, the ascent to the heart of the city is gained by stairs of vast width and breadth, but each giving a small and imperceptible rise. The whole street, indeed, is a grand _escalier_, of which the continuous houses of rich merchandise on either hand form the banisters. These stairs appear to be carved out of the native rock, and look as if a carriage and horses might safely descend, though I do not remember that they do.

We were now on shore, mixed up in the quarters of our brother officers, previously established here, and began a very pleasant kind of life, in despite of nightly mosquitoes and daily heat intense, reflected and reproduced from the glaring rock on which it everywhere smote; and this memorandum of the heat remains fixed in my memory--the noble streets of Valetta are extremely regular, and run in broad parallels at right angles with each other--when the sun, therefore, begins to decline, the streets which lie north and south are divided by broad lines of shade and sunshine--down the broad shade then the different parties walk and talk and lounge, with sauntering pace and head uncovered; but when one of the broad crossings must be passed, exposed to the sun’s fierce ray, you see every man put on his hat and dart swiftly across the bright space, as if escaping through a fire. Various commanders and married officers helped to furnish our society. Our new-found brethren put all their resources at our command, and mounting us on the beautiful barb or Arabian horses, or the scarce less beautiful ass of Malta, “showed us all the qualities o’ the isle.”

Stationed at Gozo was Edward Ker, one of my boyish friends, and one of our excursions was to visit him. We were delighted to meet, and though baked and broiled by sea and land in exploring curiosities, whatever we saw seemed to compensate our labour.

What pleased me most was a large steep rock, called the Fungus Rock, because it produces a fungus famous for its styptic power, and which the Grand Master (of the Knights of St. John) formerly distributed to the potentates of Europe. Though not for the fungus did I admire the rock, but for its stupendous eminence over a blue deep bay that lies still and unfathomable below. You pass from one rock to another at a terrific height in a basket sliding on a rope; and as I hung in the air and eyed the sapphire mirror below, I conceived an eager thirst to plunge into the cooling water; my companions consented to wait until I had descended and gratified my desire. When sporting about in this delicious bath, a good swimmer cannot conceive how people can sink in that salt sea, for the water seems so solid and buoyant it requires a great effort to keep below.

These rocks form almost such a cave as Virgil describes with such a thrilling stillness of words:--

Est in secessu longo locus: insula portum Efficit objectu laterum; quibus omnis ab alto Frangitur, inque sinus scindit sese unda reductos; Hinc atque hinc vastae rupes, geminique minantur In caelum scopuli: quorum sub vertice late Aequora tuta silent.--_Aen._ i. 163.

It was like the place--nay, perhaps it was the place--whose inviolable stillness and stupendous barriers Virgil so divinely describes; and whenever those still words, “Aequora tuta silent” recur to my memory, so does this scene.

This is “secessu longo locus.”

* * * * *

A fleet from England declared to be in the offing was a subject of great interest at Malta. We used to repair immediately to the leads of the Palace, whose great height, carrying the sight clear over every obstruction of tower, church, and fortress, displayed the wide ocean to our view, covered with the expected ships, their swelling sails as white as wool, and the sea and sky more blue and bright than all comparisons.

Pleasant and full of expectation it was to watch them successively steering into the narrow port; some stately and huge, plumed with the pennant of command, displayed the broad and checkered sides of battle; others more humble, but innumerable; all in gallant trim and guided seamanlike.

Then eager for the mail! the image of home imprisons the truant soul, and brings it back to its first tenderness; the sight of the well-known but long-suspended hand, the endearing accents which distance has made so infrequent; that day, at least, is sacred to home; and if the tidings have been cheering, though the eye may glisten and the cheek of the young soldier may flush with unwonted tenderness, yet is his heart neither solitary nor sad; his friends partake of some reflection of the kindness that his soul is inwardly pouring out to his parents and his brothers.

It is time to close the chapter on Malta, but before leaving I wrote home to my mother.

LA VALETTA, MALTA, _August 15, 1805_.

DEAREST DONA RAFELA--I believe this will be brought to England by an officer who has obtained leave. I do not know him. Nothing at all remarkable has happened since I wrote last. We made an excursion to the island of Gozo, which is much better-looking than that of Malta. There is more green and romanticity, but all prospect here is in the sublime, for you see grateful coincidence of rock, sea, and sky, which can stretch the mind to great capacity. But where, my dear mother, are the flowery meads, the green pastures, the murmuring streams that may soothe the mind into content with itself and charity to all around? Hot stone houses, hot brown ground--hot, hot, all hot.

“England, with all thy sullen skies, I love thee still, my country!” Dear, dear England, dearest Edwinstowe! What is objected to it? The cold? Why the cold produces that very thing which gives to England the greatest superiority over other countries--a fireside!

Now stir the fire and close the shutters fast, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Upsends a steaming column, etc., etc.

Wretched people under a burning sun, what do you know of this? or of

The important budget ushered in, With such heart-shaking musick, etc. etc.

I often think of my dearest father sitting in his little summer-house by the river, and wish myself beside him.

We have no sight of futurity--Russia, Naples; beat the French; a wound, a medal, and arm in a sling.

My health is uniform, and so are my spirits; only sometimes I sigh for England, for Edwinstowe, and for you. God bless you, my dearest mother.--With great love, your most affectionate and dutiful son,

CHARLES BOOTHBY.

I cannot tell what the affairs of the continent tend to. We get no news, as the French detain the good, and the Neapolitans the bad. It was verging towards winter before Sir James Craig’s expedition actually embarked. I had permission to dine and sleep ashore the day of embarkation. In the night I was seized with cholera--often in that country so fatal. No assistance and no remedy of any kind was to hand. It took its course, and in the morning I felt weak and languid, but, thanks to youth and great strength of constitution, I was well.

At daylight I went on board with a feeling of exhaustion, but no remains of disease.

In a few hours afterwards the fleet set sail, and the weather became almost immediately murky and unpropitious. We made our course round the western point of the island of Sicily without any precise knowledge of our destination. For three weeks in that Cerulean sea did we struggle with weather as moist and murky and with an atmosphere as thick as ever shrouded the chops of the British Channel. But at length the wind moderated and inclined abaft the beam, the sky and sea resumed their blue, and the classic shores of Italy beautified by degrees the farthest horizon. Soon, as evening fell, we were gliding between the fairy isles of Ischia and Capri with a smooth and steady course into the Bay of Naples.