Chapter 4 THE "BRITANNIA" IN THE 'SIXTIES.

A "Three-decker"-Arrangements on Board-The Morning Drum-Persuasive Corporals-"Cockpit Mess"-"Cheeky New Fellows"-Important Modifications-Sea-going Training-ship-A Dead Letter-The Question of Locality-Portland Selected-Its Numerous Drawbacks-Preparing for Sea-Voyage of the Britannia-She Asserts Herself Under Sail-Arrival at Portland-Great Monotony-A Sad Accident-Good Education-French and Drawing-Sample of a French Lesson-Messroom Songs-"The King of Otaheité"-Going Aloft-A Foolhardy Feat-A Swift Descent-Fatal to Clothes-Reading at the Yard-arm-Captain Powell Appointed-Departure of Commander Nare

s-Corporal Punishment-A Cool Young Hand-The Royal Marriage-Another Change Decided Upon-Voyage to Dartmouth-A Busy Time-Sailors as Navvies-The Hindostan-Captain Randolph Appointed-A Futile Complaint-Stern Measures-Parliamentary Interference-Humanitarian Fads-Flogging Abolished-Cadets' Sailing Cutters-Gymnasium Built-The Bristol-Competition on Entry-Reduction of Numbers-A New Britannia-Statistical Results.

THE new decade starts under the most favourable auspices, with a new and roomy ship, well suited for the purpose (according to the ideas of the time), and with the encouraging results of the first two or three years to incite the captain and his staff to fresh exertions.

The Britannia-it may be explained to the uninitiated who may read this book-differed from the Illustrious in that she was a "three-decker," while the latter was a "two-decker"; and in case this does not convey a sufficiently clear impression to the non-nautical mind, it is advisable to point out that a two-decker has actually four decks, while a three-decker has five; and this without reckoning in either case the poop, or raised deck at the after end, large enough to afford a considerable amount of accommodation.

The designation of the ship went, in fact, by her gun decks, which in a three-decker were termed the main, middle, and lower decks; the upper deck and orlop deck, or cockpit, completing the number. The orlop, though a complete deck, was in a sea-going ship somewhat dark, being lit only by small round "scuttles," and the actual deck was, when the vessel was down to her load-line, below water. On the Britannia, however, the scuttles were enlarged to the dignity of small ports. The head room was less than on the other decks, so that a person of ordinary stature had to be wary, while a tall man had a wretched time, the corners of oak beams being cruelly hard.

The orlop deck was in these early days used as the dormitory; all the cadets' chests were there, and shortly after the ship went to Portland a sort of open bathing-place was formed at one end, with large roses overhead for shower-baths.

On the lower deck there were four studies at the stern; then a large space was occupied by the cadets' messroom; forward of this was the "galley" or kitchen; and then the mess deck for the ship's company, which was a small one, only including a sufficient number of seamen to keep the ship in order, and the seamen instructors, etc. On the middle deck at the after end was the wardroom, and further forward the French study. Service was held on this deck on Sunday, and seamanship was also taught there. The after-part of the main deck was occupied by the captain's quarters, and there was one small study there also. At the fore end was the sick bay. Under the poop was the drawing study, and also two others; and these were utilised for some time as a place of recreation in the evening, one of the cadet captains being on duty there to keep order-which, if he chanced to be one who had been promoted rather for mental and moral than physical qualifications, he sometimes found a little beyond his powers.

The cadets were roused from their morning slumbers by a long roll on the drum. Lying half awake, in sad consciousness that turning out time was very near, one would hear the marine drummer come down the ladder, his drum giving out unmistakable sounds as it touched a step or two; then the drummer could be heard settling himself and his instrument of torture into a firm and convenient posture against a stanchion; and, after a preliminary double tap, the hideous sound reverberated through the cockpit. And it is a hideous sound, whether from the point of view of a sleepy cadet or a person of any station in life with a sensitive or musical ear.

No sooner had this aggressive salvo died away, than a chorus of corporals would ensue, as they marched along the deck between the chests, shaking a hammock here and there if the occupant appeared to have been oblivious to the drummer's dulcet strain: "Turn out, sir, turn out, if you please! Now, young gentleman, are you going to rouse out over there?" Then, in a persuasive, almost regretful tone, "Come, sir, come, show a leg, now, do!" There used to be one corporal who indulged in flights of fancy, such as-"Now, sir, make a stir, do! 'Ere's the sun a shining through the scuttle fit to burn your eyes out!"

There were, of course, always some incorrigibles, to whom turning out promptly was a moral or constitutional impossibility, and repeated offences of this nature were liable to end with a mandate to "muster under the half deck at seven bells"-i.e. to come before the first lieutenant at half-past eleven, and receive sentence, which usually took the form of turning out an hour earlier for a week.

Among the most severe punishments were "cockpit mess," and "lower deck mess," the former being awarded for somewhat serious offences. The culprit took his meals-which were of extreme simplicity-at a table rigged up under the eye of the marine sentry in the cockpit, and various privileges were stopped in addition. It was a particularly dreary sort of punishment, unless there happened to be two or more brothers in affliction, when they would make it a little more lively for themselves, and sometimes for the sentry, who might if unwary, be induced to pursue one of the evil-doers, who persisted in making an excursion towards the other end of the deck, while his companion would receive some "tuck" from a confederate on the ladder, at the risk of being himself sent below for a few days, if detected.

It was in the early days of the 'sixties that the most appropriate title to be bestowed upon new arrivals was tacitly settled. No one ever knows how these matters get decided; but certain it is that about this period a boy arriving on board would find himself styled a "cheeky new fellow." He might be the most retiring and timid of youths, but the adjective was applied all the same; by way, no doubt, of keeping him in his place, and making him understand how immeasurably inferior he was to an individual who had entered six or nine months before him.

On the arrival of the next batch he would, however, receive a sort of negative promotion, and become simply a "new fellow"; in which capacity he was at liberty to lord it over "cheekies," if they would stand it from him. Another three months would see him raised to the dignity of "six monther"; the next step was a "nine monther," and at the end of a year he would become a "passing out number."

This, however, is anticipating somewhat; and it is now time to hark back a little, and see how it came about that a boy should of necessity be over a year in the ship.

The initiation of this change was actually in the 'fifties, for it was inaugurated by an Admiralty circular dated October 23rd, 1859; which, however, did not come into force until April, 1860.

Some important modifications were introduced: the limit of age was altered to between twelve and fourteen; the easier form of entry examination was retained, and any lad who failed was to be allowed a second trial within three months.

The somewhat lax and unpractical provisions of paragraphs VI. and VII. in the former circular were amended. Quarterly examinations were to be held, but merely for the purpose of ascertaining progress; and after twelve months a cadet who was found proficient was to be discharged for three months to a sea-going training-ship. At this examination a first-class certificate conferred twelve months' sea time, a second-class six months, and a third-class no time: the three months in the sea-going training-ship was to count as sea time, and the cadet was then to join his ship as midshipman.

THE FOURTH "BRITANNIA," BUILT IN 1820.

Sailing into Plymouth Sound.

It appears extremely doubtful whether this was ever carried out, at least in the fashion implied in the circular. The brig Sealark continued to be tender to the Britannia up to the end of 1861, and no doubt the "passing out numbers" were taken out in her occasionally; but there is no evidence that they were discharged regularly to a sea-going training-ship; and, as a matter of fact, the paragraph referring to this is quietly dropped out of the circular as printed in the Navy list for March, 1862. This in itself is significant, for a close examination of the Navy lists at that period reveals the fact that there was a great reluctance on the part of the compositor to interfere with the type; so the withdrawal of the order probably came about a good deal earlier. Certainly, from the beginning of 1862 a cadet remained in the ship for fifteen months as a matter of course, and was then appointed to a sea-going ship, no such thing as a sea-going training ship being heard of at all; moreover, the cadets who joined in December, 1860, remained on board, without doubt, until March, 1862.

In establishing a training-ship for young lads, the sons of gentlefolk in a good position, the question of locality would appear to be of considerable importance. It was taken for granted, presumably, at first, that the ship should be stationed at Portsmouth, as the start was there made in the Illustrious; and possibly some advantage may have been imagined to exist in the naval surroundings, the Dockyard, etc.

The disadvantages were, however, pretty obvious. The ship was moored in close proximity to somewhat unsavoury mud at low water; there was no country, worth the name, within reach; while the moral atmosphere of a town like Portsmouth was not calculated to have a very beneficial effect on the youngsters.

Whether any particular cause brought the question of moving the ship under consideration, it is not easy to say; but towards the end of the year 1861 the authorities decided to take her away from Portsmouth; and the spot selected as her future station was-of all possible and impossible places-Portland Roads.

Those who are acquainted with the locality-among whom every naval officer may be included-are aware that, but for the breakwater, there would be practically no harbour at all, nor even a moderately sheltered roadstead in which any master would anchor his vessel, save with a westerly wind. The breakwater, though it certainly forms a shelter against the sweep of the swell in the Channel, cannot in any degree break the force of an easterly gale; and even the Chesil Bank does not modify to any great extent the fury of winter gales from the south-west, though it ensures more or less smooth water; while northerly gales sweep across from Weymouth Bay with unrestrained violence.

If plenty of open air and a generous supply of ozone were particularly in request, Portland is a very good place to go to; but other considerations will naturally crop up in selecting an anchorage for a training-ship.

As a port of assembly for a large fleet it is, by virtue of the breakwater, admirably suited; but they have to take their chance of being occasionally cut off from communication with the shore for a day or two. A good many years ago, the Channel Squadron was so cut off during the best part of a week, while an easterly gale was raging; only one vessel, favourably situated, contriving to send in a cutter under a close-reefed sail, from the stern, the crew and officer using the rope ladder suspended from the taffrail.

There was no possibility of acquiring ground for decent playing fields; the island-so called-of Portland presented no great attractions for walking or anything else; there was a stupid little town, with one steep street, climbing up the hill; and Weymouth was too far off for landing the cadets, save on exceptional occasions, and when they got there, there was little or nothing to do, except get into possible mischief.

Notwithstanding these drawbacks, however, Portland was determined upon; and when the cadets rejoined on February 2nd, 1862, after their Christmas leave, they found their floating home in the unwonted bustle of "preparing for sea"; and a very welcome distraction it proved to them, in place of the ordinary hum-drum of alternate "seamanship" and "study" days.

By February 6th all preparations were complete; at 3 p.m. a lumbering dockyard tug, the Lucifer, took the Britannia in tow, and slowly dragged her out of the familiar harbour, making for the eastern end of the Isle of Wight. The voyage was not, however, to be made alone; at Spithead the Trafalgar, steam two-decker, was in waiting, and took her station about half a mile astern of the Britannia, where she hovered during the whole passage, in case of any accident. The undertaking was not, indeed, without some risk, at that season, and anything in the shape of a gale would have been serious; the ship "flying light," with small frigate's spars, and with only a handful of bluejackets and a few dockyard riggers on board.

However, the fates proved propitious; the wind blew fair from east-north-east, the sea was smooth, and none of the cadets were seasick; though they had the unwonted experience, afterwards to become so familiar, of hearing the gentle complaining "creech" of the oak timbers, and the rattle of small-arms and other odds and ends in the racks, with the slight motion of the ship.

In the small hours of the morning it was decided to utilise the fair wind, which was freshening a bit, by making sail, and dispensing with the services of the tug. Accordingly, the jib was hoisted, the topsails loosed and the sheets dragged home; there was not enough "beef," as Jack would say, to hoist them, so they bellied out, all loose and baggy, with the following breeze, a sorry sight for a man-o'-warsman; that smart seaman, Captain Harris, must have found it go sorely against the grain to leave them so. He had a certain compensation, however; for no sooner did she feel the old familiar pressure on the masts, than the Britannia asserted herself as a ship with a reputation under canvas, and came tumbling after the tug, which had just been cast off, and whose best speed, unencumbered, was probably about six knots, in such lively fashion that she almost ran over her.

Along the chalk cliffs from St. Alban's Head the little squadron passed in the dim light of early morning, the long snake-like breakwater, and the wedge-shaped island of Portland gradually showing up more clearly.

The cadets began to come up in twos and threes, their hands stuffed well into the pockets of their monkey jackets; soon, however, they were summoned to "bring ship to an anchor," as the Britannia, with the Trafalgar still in close attendance, rounded the breakwater and approached her moorings, already laid down. Not even Captain Harris, however, would venture on the experiment of picking up moorings of this class under sail, in a three-decker, jury rigged, with her topsails on the cap; so the anchor was in readiness for letting go.

"Fourth division, up on the poop, and man the spanker outhaul!" Up they went, and realised immediately how extremely cold a fresh east wind can be on a February morning, as they held the rope in their benumbed fingers awaiting the order.

"Haul out the spanker! Hard down with the helm!" and the Britannia gracefully rounded to, topsails all shaking; as she lost her way, the anchor splashed, the cable rumbled out, and she brought up, close to the dockyard "lump" supporting the heavy moorings.

In such fashion was the arrival of the Britannia on her new station; and as the present writer happened to be one of the fourth division above referred to, and has a vivid recollection of that morning-particularly of the biting wind-the account may be taken as moderately accurate.

The cadets were sent for a run on shore in the afternoon, while the dockyard men, assisted by a party of seamen from the Trafalgar, got in the moorings.

Of the period at Portland-which, as will be seen, was not very long-the principal characteristic was its monotony. All the cadets who were in the Britannia during that time will probably agree in this. There was but little fun to be got out of Fortune's Well, as the village was called; and even the "tuck" was indifferent-a man used to come to the field with ices and various unwholesome stuffs in the summer; there was not much cricket or football worthy the name.

True, there were the "blue gigs"; they were greatly in demand in fine weather, but in such an exposed place a very moderate amount of wind would render their use impossible; the sailing launch was rarely used except for instructional purposes. The captains-twelve in number-were allowed to visit Weymouth on half-holidays, but the remainder only on rare occasions.

A small steamer used to come alongside to take the cadets on shore to Portland, and a larger one, plying regularly to Weymouth, would call when required to take cadets or officers there.

Among the amusements indulged in by some of the more adventurous among the cadets was the search after sea-birds' eggs on the cliffs at the west side of Portland; and this resulted, not very long after the arrival of the ship, in a sad fatality, a cadet named Cox losing his life by a fall from the cliff.

Whatever may have been the drawbacks of Portland as a station, the captain and his staff pursued the chief end and aim of the establishment with unremitting vigour, and great success. Seamanship and navigation were thoroughly well taught, and any lad who was even moderately industrious might go to sea with every detail of standing and running rigging, reefing and furling, etc., at his fingers' ends, only needing a little experience afloat to render him-malgré the prophecies of the malcontents of the old school-a most useful young officer. Some of them were very respectable boat-sailers as well; while all were able to take a tolerably accurate observation for latitude or longitude, and work it out correctly: no mean equipment with which to start in a sea-going ship.

The weak part of the scheme was in French and drawing, as it usually was in those days in almost all educational establishments.

The drawing-master, though an accomplished draughtsman, did not appear to have much idea of imparting his knowledge to his pupils; systematic teaching in form and perspective was unknown; so that a lad who possessed considerable natural talent in this direction usually found himself at the end just about where he was at the beginning.

Of the French instruction it can only be said that it is difficult to conceive how such a farce could be permitted to drag on year after year. The French lesson was a time for every mountebank trick imaginable, little heed being paid to the half-hearted remonstrances of the good-natured professor. It would commence with some feeble attempt at one of Ollendorf's exercises, which, of course, contain abundant material of merriment for the youthful mind.

Sometimes the professor would press for a little more variety; and was invariably met either with "Avez vous etez on board le Colossus?" (the guardship at Portland), or "Avez vous etez a Weymouth?"

There was a cadet at one time who possessed an abnormal development in the matter of aural appendages; and who, moreover, was able to fold his ears in, and cause each in succession suddenly to unfold. His appearance was naturally most grotesque under these circumstances, and his performances in the French study were a source of unfailing joy to his companions. He would "furl" his ears before commencing the stereotyped conversation with the professor, and solemnly let one out in the middle, gazing at the master meanwhile with an expression of childlike innocence.

Among the evening recreations, in the winter especially, there were frequently songs and choruses in the messroom, particularly if there happened to be one or two cadets with an aptitude for singing and a good repertoire of songs. There was one lad there in the latter part of the year 1862 who was remarkable in this respect, and his songs were always in request. One of the prime favourites was an extraordinary "descriptive" ballad about a certain "King of Otaheité," in which a variety of well-known airs were introduced. As it is probably quite out of date and unknown to our readers of the present generation, it shall be immortalised in these pages.

The King of Otaheité.

Once on a time there lived a king

Of Otaheité, of Otaheité;

Once on a time there lived a king,

A king of Otaheity

Who, when he only frowned, 'tis said

The people all were filled with dread

For fear that each should lose his head

By the king of Otaheity.

Now this monarch's name was Tanta-paran

Mesopotamia, Cou-di-caran,

And some people thought him a fine-looking man,

A remarkably fine-looking man.

His nose was large, so was his mouth;

When one eye looked north, the other looked south;

His face was as broad as a big frying pan;

Such a beautiful monarch was Cou-di-caran!

Now this king called his messengers

And picked out two or three,

Saying, "Rascals, stir your stumps, and tell

My friends to come to me

At half-past five for tea.

Mind that you've everything fit for my table:

Human flesh, herbs, and rice,

Everything else that's nice.

Run now, you rascals, as fast as you're able;

Run, run!"

Then there came both great and small,

Handsome, ugly, short, and tall;

Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,

Friends, relations, and many others.

Some were dressed in Sunday's best,

Gaily, too, were all the rest.

Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,

Friends, relations, and many others.

But a lady who was present

By the crowd was jostled so,

That she kept treading, treading, treading

On the king of Otaheity's toe!

On his bad toe!

On the king of Otaheity's toe!

I grieve that I should mention it,

Or that it should be heard;

It was not her intention; it

Was not, upon my word.

The king he had an ugly corn,

Which sorely did him fret;

If you had heard the row he made

You never could forget.

Now, the king, in a terrible riot,

Sang out to his guard down below,

Saying, "Rascals, how can you keep quiet?

Some villain has trod on my toe!

Go out into all my dominions,

Search well every corner and cell!

If I find out the rascal who's done it,

By Jingo, I'll tip it him well!"

But a guard who stood close by,

And cared for no man, cared for no man,

Said, "So please your Majesty,

That's the woman! That's the woman!"

The king then took her by the hair,

And would not let her go,

Saying, "Madam, please to recollect

You trod upon my toe!"

A lord-in-waiting took an axe

And chopped her skull in two.

The king then, with a gracious smile,

Said, "Thank you; that'll do!"

This remarkable effusion was always listened to with breathless interest, the callous monarch's final pronouncement being greeted with thunders of applause.

Another ditty which was in great request was a bloodthirsty piratical song, with a good swinging chorus:-

Hurrah! for a life of war and strife,

A pirate's life for me!

My barque shall ride the foaming tide,

The demon of the sea.

"Brave Broke" of the Shannon was as popular as in "Tom Brown's Schooldays"; and there was a youth-said to be partially of Swiss extraction-who gave a song with a most piercing "yodel" to each verse; and there were a great many verses. The other cadets greatly envied him this accomplishment, and the messroom would sometimes resound with embryo endeavours to produce a similar result; causing, on one occasion, a sudden eruption of the lieutenant on duty, who blew a boatswain's whistle to attract attention, and declared that a repetition of these singular noises would involve a muster of the cadets on deck.

The Britannia was, as has been stated, fully rigged in those days; and the cadets were allowed, and encouraged, to go aloft at all times: the "cheeky new fellows," indeed, had to go over the topmast head every morning, nolens volens.

In summer there were always a number of lads climbing about on the mainmast and mizenmast, and the more active and venturesome used to compete with one another in the performance of sundry more or less dangerous feats. One cadet endeavoured to immortalise himself by coming down over the "futtocks" with one arm and one leg. Probably the reader is aware that the "futtock shrouds" are the short, stiff, standing ropes from the edge of the "top," the traversing of which involves a more or less reversed position; it is easy enough for any ordinarily active boy, and the alternative, of going through "lubber's hole," was regarded as more or less of a disgrace. It will be obvious, however, that the full complement of limbs is essential to the safe passage of the "futtocks"; a fact which was forcibly impressed upon our young hero by a very hasty involuntary descent into the main chains, resulting in concussion of the brain and a pretty bad scalp wound. However, he came up smiling after a week or so; but did not try it again.

Another aspirant for celebrity conceived the idea of coming down the mizen royal stay "hand over leg"; this stay being a very small rope, and-as it was not called upon to stand the stress of sail-certainly a pretty old one, it was quite on the cards that it might have given way, especially as the gymnast was a good lump of a boy. However, he escaped, and landed in the main-top triumphantly; whence he was called down by the first lieutenant, admonished as a "young fool," and received some slight punishment, pour encourager les autres.

OFFICERS AND CADETS, 1861.

A favourite pastime was sliding down the two parts of the topsail halyards, which passed through a great block within reach of the main-top. You got hold of the two ropes, which ran parallel, about a foot apart, to the bulwarks, one in each hand, twisted your legs round them, and then, embracing the ropes with your arms so as to avoid skinning your hands, down you went like a flash. It was advisable, however, to tie your trousers round the ankles first, or they rucked up and the friction of the rope would inflict a very nasty burn on the leg; one cadet, in fact, was on the sick-list for a considerable time as the result of this man?uvre.

Dear old Dibdin tells us how William, the favoured of Black-eyed Susan, was aloft when she came alongside; upon which,

The cord glides swiftly through his glowing hands,

And quick as lightning on the deck he stands.

No cadet, certainly, except a very green "cheeky new fellow," would try this experiment, knowing that he would arrive on deck with a good deal more than the cuticle burnt off his "glowing hands"; William, however, came down by "poetical licence," which no doubt makes all the difference.

If the cadet's cuticle escaped, however, the clothes, which his parents paid for, did not!

On a fine half-holiday those who did not wish to go on shore would often spend the time aloft with a book; many an hour has the present writer spent at the main-yardarm, where the studding-sail boom afforded a seat of more or less comfort and security, with a book; one arm clasping the lift, legs hanging down below the yard. It probably never occurs to youth that to doze off in such a position would certainly be fatal!

The year 1862 was an eventful one for the Britannia, two most important figures disappearing from her history.

It became known in September that Captain Harris was to leave shortly, and the news came as a sort of shock, he was so completely identified with the institution. The report turned out to be true, and on October 1st he was succeeded by Captain Richard Ashmore Powell. This officer had, in a letter to Captain Harris, dated May 27th of the same year, written as follows: "I am much pleased with the lads from the Britannia; they are well behaved, and are well grounded in the fundamental parts of their profession."

He had now to try his hand at turning out similar youngsters, and, though he found the way paved for him by the results of his predecessor's forethought and experience, he probably felt that he had his work cut out.

Shortly afterwards Lieutenant Nares was promoted to commander, and, though he retained his post as senior executive for a time, he was superseded in December by Commander William H. Edye,[4] a very smart and energetic officer, who was held in great respect by the cadets.

[4] Now Admiral W. H. Edye.

Nares' departure was doubtless a great loss to the ship; he identified himself very heartily with the cadets in their games, etc., and displayed remarkable activity in playing "Sling the Monkey" and "High Cockolorum" with them.

A very pleasant reminiscence in connection with him is an excursion which he "personally conducted" at Easter, 1862, taking about fifty cadets, whose homes were too far distant for them to avail themselves of the brief holidays, for a three or four days' trip to Wells, Glastonbury, Cheddar, etc. The boys thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and made a good show at the service in Wells Cathedral on Easter Sunday, where the preacher "gie'd 'em a sight o' gude advice."

On one occasion a number of the cadets were on the west side of Chesil Bank, watching the rollers coming in after a heavy gale: a very fine sight. The beach-entirely composed of large loose pebbles-runs down steeply, so that the sea breaks in one great "comber," coming in like a wall, and dragging back the pebbles in the "undertow" with a tremendous clatter. Some of the lads thought it good fun to run down after the receding wave, as far as they dared, right under the next advancing one; a most dangerous amusement.

Lieutenant Nares unexpectedly came on the scene, and, arming himself with a long piece of tough seaweed, something like a South African sjambok, he gave chase, and scored heavily off several, being very fleet of foot. Having afforded this practical proof of the probable consequences of being caught at such games, he gave them a lecture as to the far more serious results of losing their footing, or being dragged out by the undertow-which, indeed, one or two had narrowly escaped.

It was not long after the appointment of Captain Powell that the Admiralty decided to introduce corporal punishment for serious offences among the cadets. It is not quite clear at the present time what gave rise to this innovation, but there were probably some unusually reckless spirits among the youngsters, of whom it was deemed necessary to make an example.

There was considerable awe among the cadets the first time they were assembled to "witness punishment"-for it was publicly inflicted-and the culprit was lashed, in true man-o'-war fashion, on one side of the deck, facing a port, while his comrades were drawn up opposite.

The deterrent effect was probably somewhat discounted by the amazing sang froid of the young gentleman under punishment, who took his birching without a murmur, and, having a good view of Portland Roads through the port, had apparently been interesting himself in the man?uvres of a merchant vessel which was beating in; for, as the last stroke was given, and the corporal advanced to release him, he remarked, in a genial, conversational tone, "Ah, she's missed stays! I thought she would!"

This lad naturally became rather a hero in the eyes of his fellows, especially as he was already rather a favourite, being of the breezy type, which sailors call a "Jack-shilloo." It must be said, however, that birchings were few and far between, at least in the days of Captain Powell.

In March, 1863, came the marriage of the Prince of Wales, the day being observed as a holiday, and white "favours," with the portraits of the Prince and of Princess Alexandra on them, were distributed to the cadets, who were also allowed leave to go to Weymouth-though they found nothing particularly amusing to do there. Indeed, a more uninteresting town for a lad to spend some hours in could not well be imagined.

The numerous disabilities of Portland began about this period to be brought home to the Admiralty, chiefly through the representations of Captain Powell, who eventually received instructions to look round for a more suitable station. In recommending Dartmouth he probably made the best selection possible. The only objection that could be raised to it was that it might not be sufficiently bracing, and this was more or less of a "faddy" idea; in all other respects it appeared-and has proved to be-most admirably suited for the purpose.

Smooth water-for it would take something like a tropical cyclone to raise a sea at the head of the harbour-beautiful surroundings, easy access to the shore, land available for good playing fields. All these good things, as it were, going a-begging, while the gales howled round the ship in her exposed quarters at Portland.

And so, though she had been only eighteen months there, it was decided that it should see the last of her in September, 1863.

On the 28th all was in readiness, and 108 cadets-about half the full number-were sent on leave.

At 7.45 a.m. on the 29th the Britannia set out on another little voyage. This time, however, there was more towing power provided, the Geyser, an old paddle-wheel sloop, taking the hawsers, with the Prospero, Admiralty tug, ahead of her; and between them they pulled the old ship along at quite a respectable speed. The sails were available if required, but the Britannia was not destined again to spread her wings, though she and her escort had to remain at sea, off Dartmouth, for the night, entering the beautiful harbour at nine o'clock next morning, amid the enthusiastic cheers of the inhabitants, and to the extreme satisfaction, no doubt, of the cadets, as they realised the contrast of their future surroundings with what they had left. As it turned out, the day selected for the voyage was a lucky one, for that night it blew a fresh gale outside, and the handling of so large a vessel, in light trim, by the tugs would have been difficult, probably involving the parting of hawsers.

The spot selected was about half a mile above the town, and the ship was securely moored, head and stern, to four heavy anchors, so as to be absolutely stationary, and quite close to the western shore.

There was a busy time then for all hands: clearing away rocks abreast the ship, making a beach for the cadets' boats, a landing place and cricket ground, with direct access up the steep bank, so as to avoid the town, and so on. A great deal of this work was done, more or less in the rough, by the ship's company, under the boatswain, who, in huge sea-boots, superintended the engineering of zig-zag paths and steps and various other unaccustomed achievements. Tars take a delight in a job like this, outside their ordinary duties, and bring a remarkable amount of ingenuity and common sense to bear upon it.

Their 'prentice work has, of course, been long since superseded by that of contractors, the magnificent playing fields, etc., being now approached by flights of concrete steps of great solidity; pier, boatsheds, bathing place, etc., all in keeping.

The number of cadets on board at this time was about 230; but this number proved insufficient to keep up the supply of lieutenants required, so the entries were considerably increased, with the result that the number, after a few terms, reached 306, causing inconvenient crowding on the sleeping decks and in the messroom, to say nothing of the studies.

After many representations from Captain Powell, the Admiralty in 1864 decided to supplement the Britannia with another ship, and the Hindostan, an old two-decker, was selected for the purpose, and sent round from Devonport. She was one of several vessels built of Indian teak, a wood which far surpasses British oak in durability and freedom from rot; it is, in fact, practically everlasting.

CAPTAIN R. A. POWELL AND OFFICERS, 1863.

The new ship was moored ahead of the Britannia, a bridge being constructed between the two, making them practically one vessel, which proved to be of the greatest value.

There was not much history made during the next year or two. There was, of course, a great deal done in improvement of arrangements and organisation after the advent of the Hindostan; and, as a proof that the extra accommodation was needed, it may be mentioned that the number of cadets entered in 1864 was 217, as compared with 122 and 183 of the years 1863 and 1862 respectively. This large number was not maintained, however; for it fell to 159 in the following year. The sudden and temporary augmentation of entries was due, no doubt, to a state of alarm in which the authorities found themselves as to the probable paucity of lieutenants during the next few years.

In 1865 Captain Powell was succeeded by Captain George Granville Randolph,[5] an officer who enjoyed a great reputation for strictness, and of whom his subordinates always stood in awe. Though disposed to err, perhaps, on the side of severity, Randolph was always perfectly fair and just, and was a most capable officer. The frigate Orlando, which he commanded in the Mediterranean before he went to the Britannia, was a marvel of smartness, and some of the performances of her crew in handling spars, sails, etc., still remain as time-records for the very smart Mediterranean Fleet of those days.

[5] Now Admiral Sir George G. Randolph, K.C.B.

There is little doubt, however, that his appointment to the Britannia fluttered the dovecots a little, and he soon made his somewhat "dour" character felt. He was one of those men who are not afraid to accept responsibility for their actions, or to carry out any threat or promise to the bitter end, even though it may involve the antagonism of the whole of his subordinates.

On one occasion during his command the cadets took it into their heads to protest against having the meat left from the previous day served up as hashes, etc., for breakfast; and as there was some little agitation among them, it was brought to the captain's notice. The cadet captains were accordingly mustered, and invited to state their grievance. The captain heard them patiently, and then, to their delight, he replied, "You are quite right, boys, it shall be stopped." The boys, thinking they had scored completely, chorused, "Thank you, sir!" until the captain added grimly, "But you will have nothing in its place!" As they knew perfectly well that he would not swerve from his decision, they retired crestfallen, and put up with the hashes, which probably did them no harm.

Another incident had rather an unexpected result. On a wet and cheerless holiday in the spring of 1867, going on shore being out of the question, the boys were skylarking about the decks, rather at a loose end, and some of the bigger cadets began to amuse themselves by a form of bullying, joining hands and rushing the smaller boys along the deck with considerable violence, regardless of possible serious injury from falls, etc. This amusement being carried to rather cruel extremes, the officer of the day thought it right to call the attention of the commander to it, who in turn reported it to the captain. Possibly the captain may have been aware of some previous cases of bullying, and determined to make an example of the offenders; however this may be, he resorted to drastic measures on the spot. The cadets were called to divisions, and the culprits, four or five in number, received then and there a good birching. There is the authority of a naval instructor who was then in the ship for the statement that bullying was very promptly stopped by this proceeding; but apparently it was resented by the friends of some of the cadets, an agitation in Parliament was organised, and in July of that year Mr. Corry, the First Lord of the Admiralty, was interrogated by Mr. Bass on the subject. On July 25th the matter was dealt with in the House as follows (reported in the Times of July 26th):-

"Mr. Bass asked the First Lord of the Admiralty whether he had made further inquiry respecting the mode of punishment of cadets on board the Britannia. It was alleged from a great many quarters that excessive cruelty was practised on board that ship; and it was stated by gentlemen acquainted with the practice, and who had given their names, that when a cadet was punished his legs and arms were tied to ringbolts so that he could not move, and that he was flogged with a birch broom which had been previously steeped in water to make it more pliant; that fifteen cuts were inflicted with it on the back, and that the doctors invariably attended. He wished to know whether the First Lord had made further inquiries on the matter, and if he retained the opinion he formerly expressed.

"Mr. Corry said, in consequence of the statement of the hon. member, he had thought it necessary to make minute inquiry on the subject of the punishment on board the Britannia, and the result was a complete denial that the punishment of cadets was accompanied by the cruelty described. Punishment was inflicted, not with a birch broom, but precisely similar to that used at schools. There was a complete denial of any such cruelty as had been alleged.

"Mr. Bass: The arms are not tied to ringbolts?

"Mr. Corry: Certainly not. It is hardly necessary that I should go further into the case, as the Admiralty, having taken the whole subject into consideration, have thought it desirable that the practice of punishing naval cadets should be discontinued. (Cheers.) An order to that effect was issued by the Board of Admiralty last Monday. (Cheers.)"

Mr. Bass and his friends thus scored off the Admiralty in a degree to which they were not intrinsically entitled. The use of the birch, or other means of corporal punishment, is a legitimate subject of controversy, upon which many diverse opinions have always existed; but, granted the advisability of its use, the allegations of Mr. Bass are mere humanitarian padding. If you are going to inflict corporal punishment upon anyone, man or boy, there is certainly no cruelty in securing him so that he cannot move; birch rods for the punishment of young seamen in the Navy were most frequently made by splitting up an ordinary birch broom into convenient small bundles for the purpose; and the soaking in water had the effect of preventing the ends flying off during the first few strokes; while the attendance of the doctor is merely an obvious precaution, in the event of a fainting fit, which may possibly occur, even in the case of an apparently robust subject. Needless to say, a delicate or weakly boy would not be subjected to such punishment.

Mr. Bass, it will be noticed, did not agitate for the abolition of flogging. Mr. Corry and his colleagues must, however, be credited with having investigated the matter in an independent spirit, and with arriving at their decision upon adequate grounds; though the general impression produced must have been that they were more or less truckling to a piece of unnecessary meddling.

CAPTAIN JOHN CORBETT.

Photo: Smale & Son, Dartmouth.

Captain Randolph was superseded in September, 1867, by Captain John Corbett, after having held the appointment for a period of only eighteen months.

Among other useful institutions introduced in this decade should be mentioned the sailing cutters and the gymnasium.

To be capable of handling a boat under sail is, of course, a very necessary qualification for a naval officer, and most of it is done by midshipmen. The ordinary rig of a Service cutter is what is known as a "dipping lug," i.e. a lug sail which has to be shifted to the other side of the mast whenever the boat goes about; and as a cutter may be required to use oars or sails at very short notice, it is undoubtedly the best adapted for the purpose. A smart boat's crew will have the masts up and sail on the boat in a very few minutes. It is, however, somewhat cumbrous to work, and has no special value in regard to the general principles which govern boat-sailing. In order, therefore, to afford the cadets every opportunity of acquiring skill and readiness at the helm, a number of small cutter-rigged vessels-a ship's cutter not being "cutter" rigged-were provided in 1867, with simple sails and fittings, so that three or four cadets could, by permission, take one out on a free afternoon and sail about the harbour, thereby gaining the practical experience, combined with due responsibility, without which neither boat-sailing nor any other art may be adequately mastered. The cadets have to hoist the sails, seeing that they are properly set, according to certain immutable laws; to get the boat cleverly away from her moorings without getting foul of anything, to run, beat, or reach, as occasion may require; and finally to pick up the moorings again in a seamanlike fashion, this last being certainly the crucial test of the coxswain's ability.

These little vessels have answered their purpose admirably, and are frequently in such request that there is quite a struggle to get the use of one for the afternoon. Many of the lads become very proficient boat-sailers, and an occasional mishap is not severely visited, but taken advantage of to explain what ought to have been done.

A properly fitted gymnasium is, of course, regarded as a necessity at any modern school, and the Britannia has been by no means behind the times in this respect, all the various exercises being taught by an efficient instructor, including fancy acrobatic displays such as the "living tower," etc.

The closing years of the 'sixties are marked by two important innovations: the institution of a bona fide sea-going training-ship for the cadets, and the introduction of a competitive entry examination.

In February, 1868, the Bristol, a fine steam frigate, recently paid off as commodore's ship on the coast of Africa, was recommissioned as a sea-going training-ship for cadets, in which they were to spend one year after leaving the Britannia, the period of training in the latter being at this time one year, making the maximum time of probation two years.

On August 3rd, 1869, however, a new circular was issued by the Admiralty, in which the whole system was reorganised,[6] the most important change being, as has been stated, the adoption of competition in the entry examination. Two other points are included in the preamble of the circular: an increase of the time under training and a further reduction of the number of cadets entered annually. Since the rush of entries in 1864, already alluded to, the numbers had come down from 217 to 121, the authorities being evidently afraid of a superfluity of executive officers.

[6] See Appendix III.

The necessity-real or imaginary-of reducing the number of entries presumably caused some difficulty, owing to the number of applications for nominations, so somebody hit on the happy idea of giving many more nominations than were needed, and making the examination a limited competition. Any influential person who had received a nomination for his son would then have the ground cut from under his feet in case his boy's name never appeared on the Navy List: "You asked for a nomination for your son, and we gave you one. What more could you want?"

This, at any rate, appears to be the only possible reason for giving 148 nominations during the year, of which it was certain that only 74 could be effective, for it would be absurd to contend that any benefit could accrue to the Service from such a step.

The happy aspirant for the honour of serving his country in the Navy had, practically, two examinations to pass, for a preliminary test had to be successfully negotiated before he was permitted to engage in a competition in which he might, after hard grinding, come out thirty-eighth, and be compelled to seek some other vocation in life.

It is difficult to refrain from dwelling at some length on the anomaly of this method of obtaining suitable officers, which, as will be seen, was abolished a few years afterwards, only to be reintroduced later on. Suffice it to say, that it has always been condemned by a number of officers whose opinion should carry weight, as men who have devoted their lives to the study of the efficiency of the Service, and how best to ensure it; and if their opponents seek to convince them by pointing to results, it is certainly within their right to maintain that these might have been better without limited competition.

The maximum limit of age on entry was reduced, as will be noticed, from 14 to 13 years, leaving only one year's margin between this and the minimum.

The whole scheme, in fact, tended to reduce the number of entries, while a show of maintaining a larger number was kept up by 50 per cent. of ineffective nominations.

In spite of the smaller numbers on board, and the prospective further decrease foreshadowed by the new circular, modern ideas as to accommodation, and a demand for more studies, etc., caused the Britannia to be condemned as too small for her office, and about July, 1869, the fifth Britannia made her appearance at Dartmouth. She was laid down as a sailing three-decker in 1848, but was subsequently lengthened while still on the stocks, and eventually launched as a screw-ship of 131 guns in 1860, under the name of the Prince of Wales, assuming, however, the title of her predecessor. She was a much larger vessel, and was fitted up in a manner suited to modern requirements: only one mast was supplied, so that she presents much more the aspect of a "sheer hulk" than the old ship, in spite of a very handsome hull.

The average number of cadets entered each year during the 'sixties was 153, though this does not include 1860 or 1861, of which there is no record available. The total for these eight years is 1,223, who are accounted for, approximately, as follows:-

Active List.

Admirals, 18; captains, 107; commanders, 20.

Retired List.

Admirals, 2; captains, 93; commanders, 168; lieutenants, 56; sub-lieutenants, 30.

Leaving a balance, either dead or removed from the Navy List, of 629, or 51 per cent.

The number of cadets who passed out of the Illustrious and Britannia from 1858 to 1861 was 559, which are accounted for thus:-

Active List.

Admirals, 29.

Retired List.

Admirals, 22; captains, 61; commanders, 66; lieutenants, 54.

Leaving a balance of 327, or 58 per cent.

THE FOURTH "BRITANNIA" AS TRAINING SHIP.

Photo: Smale and Son, Dartmouth.