5104-G-HMS LORD WARDEN I - Pt 4

OCT 1872 - APRIL 1873

ARRIVE MALAGA

15 October – Tuesday

Anchored off Malaga yesterday afternoon, 11 fms, and veered to 7 shackles. Thirty two officers from the fleet including the Admiral have gone up to Granada. Until Thursday morning I remain on board doing Mate of the Main deck, and keeping Hamilton’s watch.

17 October – Thursday

Went ashore yesterday afternoon for the first time and landed at the small Mole, that forms one of the horns of the harbour, and always is used as wharf. It being covered with articles of merchandise, principally raisins, it being vintage time at present. After strolling about the streets some little time, I made my way out to the iron founders and cotton mills, situated on the left of the town – about two miles out. After a most dusty walk there, crossing over the bed of a river spanned by several bridges – at present almost dry but for a little stream running down the centre – I reached the foundry and introduced myself to the Manager (an Englishman from Lancashire) and joining a party of our fellows, who were just going round.

The manager told us that at present, there were only 300 men out of 800 at work, the remainder being on strike. The International having something to do with it. He told us that when the vintage had been gathered in, most of the men would come back.

He took us first to the smelting furnaces, shaped thus, and explained that at the bottom a layer of charcoal is first placed – then two layers of ore – then charcoal and so on to the top – the blast pipe being at the bottom. The gasses from the charcoal are drawn through pipes under boilers, thereby heating the water to about 800 degrees and then passing through chimney is allowed to escape. The steam, which is raised in these boilers, is used to work a large engine, which works the blast, for some 8 or 10 smelting furnaces – so not a lb of coal is used, in working the blast at the boilers.

We then saw some mould run into, and iron bars straightened out – and going over the model room, we bade goodbye to the Manager, who told us among other things, that he had been there 38 years and that the foundry belonged to a family, the head of which dying some little time back – died worth a million and three quarters.

We next proceeded to the cotton mills which are close to – found more difficulty in getting permission to go round this establishment. Having got it, we were taken in tow by a Spaniard, who showed us round, taking us to every room and part – and we saw cotton manufactured from its raw state as when it is taken from the pad, until it is made into cotton stuff. The raw stuff, first passing round a cylinder, which opened it out, then winding round reels, gradually decreasing in bulk until the cotton thread is produced. To make the stuff, some six hundred reels are used, half the threads working up and half down, a shuttle passing between the two. The smell in the room where the starching process was going on, was enough to knock one down. I should think it was far from being a healthy occupation judging from the looks and complexions of persons employed – some 3,000, principally women.

Came on board to dinner, and then in the evening, I with half-a-dozen other fellows went ashore to spend the evening at Mr MacCullochs, banker, merchant etc. We found seven or eight girls there, all belonging to or connected with the family, and to dancing we went and kept it up, varied by a little singing, up to half past twelve. Each of us had his own particular chum – Helena being mine. We finished up by dancing Sir Roger de Coverley and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Got off about one fifteen am and had to turn out at four, for the Morning watch and consequently feel a little tired tonight, especially as I’ve been ashore all this afternoon walking in the Alameda with Helena, who I find is Hammet’s chum also, so we are rivals. However I’ve made running whilst he has been on day duty. She is rather nice looking and reminds one of the little countess at Vigo. Her photo which she gave me does not do her justice. Spent an hour at her house.

Have a most violent cold in the head so I must turn in. Could not get into the Cathedral today, it being shut up. Great fears of a revolution in Malaga. Last night on the courier coming in, there was a small row in the square – but nothing of importance. When we came off at one last night, the Alameda was full of soldiers, and streets being patrolled. In fact whilst we were dancing, we constantly went to the windows to see if there was any row going on. Fancy this in the 19th century. I thank my stars that I am an Englishman and not a Spaniard.

DEPART MALAGA

19 October – Saturday

The day before yesterday (Thursday) it came on to blow from the SW sending a swell in. However, notwithstanding the wind and threatening of rain, Joe Wood and I went ashore and did some shopping, after doing which we called on the MacCullochs, about 3.30, and I’m afraid disturbed them at dinner. Joe Wood wanted to make a rapid flight of it – but I would not let him.

In a short time the old lady appeared, but I’m glad to say only to herald Helena’s and Katie’s entrance, and then the old lady disappeared so we had a long conversation together. I tried hard to induce them to come out on the Alameda at once, but they did not like coming, without a chaperone. However, they said that they could come out by and bye – so at last we had to go – but shortly afterwards they came out and we joined them. Helena and I exchanging photographs – a good deal of ne m’oubliez pas on the back of them. They told us that they would not be at home that evening – so we came off and told the rest of the fellows, who had intended going.

Yesterday afternoon I could not go ashore, and so left the field open to Hammet – for in a mild manner, we were rivals.

On the officers’ boat coming off, heard of a slight affray in which Foote, M’Alpine and the Parson figured, together with a Spanish thief. The former (Foote) figuring out as the hero. It appears that at 6 o’clock, just as the officers were going off, the Padre felt some one pulling out his watch – and turning round there was Mr Spaniard with it in his hand.

He seized the Spaniard, assisted by M’Alpine and said in his manly voice – “I’ve got you, I’ve got you”, and they were both marching him off when to their surprise, he wrested himself clear and made for some casks and cases, where he stood at bay drawing a most murderous looking weapon some eighteen inches long and with a most murderous look on his scowling and fierce face. He was surrounded by a lot of fellows, all not unnaturally feeling reluctant to rush in.

Foote however made a rush at him, and as the Spaniard made a thrust at him, he was seized by the wrist, Foote receiving a slight wound on the thumb. The scoundrel was then quickly disarmed and walked off to prison. I hear today that he has got a well merited punishment of a year’s imprisonment.

Last night a large party of us went to the McCullochs, getting there about 8.30 – Foote being unable to come. Found all the girls at home – and at it. Hammet and I went and I was fortunate to cut him entirely out. He solaced himself by going the pace with Annie Smith – Foote’s chum. We all stuck to our particular girls, the whole evening. Helena and I managed to get along extremely well together, and from what I heard afterwards so did the other fellows.

When the Helicons arrived, they were, I’m afraid, left entirely out in the cold. Mackay sang – and I must say he sang extremely well. He has a fine rich full powerful baritone voice and only requires training, to bring it out to perfection. After a most pleasant evening of balconies, corners etc. etc. we bid them good-bye at 12.30 with regret, for we all had found most charming partners and were loath to part, at least I can answer for one, if not for two.

The streets were patrolled all night by troops of Lancers for fear of disturbances. This forenoon Foote went ashore and bade the McCullochs goodbye bearing a billet-doux to Helena – and I hear made good running, whilst ashore.

At 4 pm the Squadron shortened in and went out under sail casting to starboard with a Northerly breeze. It is the first time that I’ve ever gone from an anchorage in an ironclad under sail. The four ships all went off very well – viz: L.W. – Swiftsure, Invincible and Pallas.

I begin to take more interest in my deck duty. Much more than I thought possible when first put on to it.

20 October – Sunday

Little, if any wind. Squadron drifting about anyhow.

VISIT CARTAGENA

24 October – Thursday

On our way to Barcelona from Cartagena, having gone into that port Tuesday last, and anchored in a small harbour on the right (entering); first having dropped anchor just outside the mole being built, but shifting into the small harbour at entrance.

I was unable to go ashore, but from all accounts I did not lose much, the town not being much better than Vigo and the country looked most bleak and bare. I should like to have seen the dockyard, which seemed moderately large – it is situated on the left of the harbour, up a creek. There was only one ship there.

That night it came on to blow, very heavy, barometer going down fast. So at 12 o’clock, fast asleep, I was rousted out and bent sheet cable – letting go J.B. and veering on B.B. Quite a lump of sea came tumbling in from the SW, to which wind this small harbour is open to. We were over a couple of hours getting the work done.

Yesterday the Spanish Admiral paid us a visit in the afternoon and went over the ship. Whilst the two Admirals were in the Engine Room some cock was turned on and both of them got saturated with water. And the main deck looked very well, although “it’s I that says it, that shouldn’t.”

The Swiftsure and Invincible hove in sight about 4 pm but remained outside and the Helicon also, which ship brought mails – of which I got one from my Mother.

The country is very mountainous indeed – being the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The harbour reminds one of Ferrol, only on a much smaller scale. The entrance is well defended by forts, placed high up and of double tiers, but I believe there are no guns on them, which is a drawback.

That evening we up anchor and away running before a SW breeze, all night, making 5, 6 and 7 knots per hour.

By my mother’s account, Annie’s wedding must have been a very successful one indeed – nine bridesmaids, and presents 100 and upwards. She is as yet the only girl I have ever met that I could really find no fault in her disposition.

27 October – Sunday

Off Barcelona, having carried a rattling Westerly breeze right up along the coast sending the old craft along at times, to the tune of 7 & 8 knots. All yesterday we were steaming round a target, prize firing. The shooting first was wild but the men latterly settled down to their work and knocked away a couple of targets, so we had to finish our firing for that day, having only fired half our allowance.

I had the pleasure of sitting in the maintop, noting the qualities of the shots made. This afternoon we have been drifting about, and in towards the land. Barcelona being about seven miles off. A rather fine Spanish steamer has just passed and exchanged colours. At the last dip she let her tack go, and went through the fleet with flying colours.

ARRIVE BARCELONA

28 October – Monday

All the forenoon, we were at prize firing, having got over half of it last Saturday. One gun this morning sent a couple of shots right through in succession and several others very close. Each gun has eight shots fired, two by Nos 1 and 2 – and 1 each by 3.4.5.6. Distance at first shot being given and the distance for the remainder being judged by Captain of Gun – and also they have to fire against time. One gun got over her eight shot in 7m 13 sec – not at all bad.

My deck quite disgusted me today, being in such a filthy state. I hate deck work and it is as much as I can do to make myself take zeal and interest in looking after it, but I brace myself to the task and manage it very well.

We came to an anchor close off the Mole about 4 pm, shortening sail just before we arrived at the anchorage. The Spaniards politely sent off to us, to say there was room for the Admiral’s ship inside the Mole. There are two Spanish Man-of-War inside there.

The town looks very large, and possesses a very large and fine artificial harbour, formed by two arms running out – the one in a Southerly direction – and the other in an Easterly direction.

Heard from Russell, who says I’m to get my promotion the end of this year, but I’m not so sanguine, as all that.

29 October – Tuesday

Seated in Pritchard’s cabin, I shall give to the pages of my journal, the impression made upon me, by the city of Barcelona, capital of Catalonia.

Denison and I intended going ashore by the 1.20 boat, but the last, being detained some short time, so as to hoist the Spanish Admiral out with all due, we took a shore boat and hoisting the sail, ran before the wind, up to the landing place Puesto della Paz – the distance being about a mile. The greater part of it being contained inside the Mole.

Two Spanish frigates are moored, by their sterns to the Mole; both wooden frigates, one being a frigate of the Jackass class. The Harbour contains a great deal of small shipping, packed like herrings in a cask, and it is a wonder to me how they manage to get out – supposing the vessel to be one of the inside ones.

On landing, the first thing that attracted our attention was the Rambla – consisting of a lounge, or, walk, some 80 feet in width, bordered by trees of the kind, and each side of it a carriage road running parallel with it, then the foot pavements and lastly the shops and houses – (the houses being tall and averaging four to five stories).

As the place looked full of people and life, we determined to first stroll up the Rambla, and did so, and truly we enjoyed it. The branches of the trees meeting overhead afforded us a welcome shade from the heat of the sun, as also affording a grateful relief to the eye, from the glare and sameness of the buildings. Looking to our right, or left, immediately beneath the branches, one saw shop windows, filled with goods of all descriptions and colours – and all around, numbers of people who seemed to be taking life very easy. We strolled along for about third of a mile, in this delightful avenue – when seeing – oh! ye gods – nothing more, or less than a tuck shop at the corner.

Denison and I, after a little mutual unwillingness to be the first to propose entering, entered and we did full justice to the contents of the Shop. Having finished our repast, we strolled into a large plaza, arcades running all round and fountain in middle playing away. Any amount of cafes in this plaza, and some fitted up very nicely and looked very clean. We then, from the plaza, went into the principal street and did that. We also tried to do the Cathedral but found it shut up. So, from another large plaza, we found our way on to the ramparts, or, sea wall and walked back to the beginning of the Rambla again – and the remainder of our time ashore, was employed in looking after photograph shops, etc. Denison got a very nice fan for 6 dollars.

The Prima Donna going sick stopped the performance of any Opera, so I came off, although rather inclined to stop ashore, and see the place lit up – it being very well lighted. I saw most of the principal part of the town, but had no time to visit the more instructive parts, viz. its Manufacturies – buildings, ship-yards, etc. – but, judging from the number of shops, ships, and warehouses. I should most certainly say it was a very well-to-do city.

I ought to mention that it has tramways laid down, along its principal streets and that the public conveyances are very good – and would put a London cabby to the blush. I feel confoundedly tired, so, I embrace the God, Morpheus.

DEPART BARCELONA

31 October – Thursday

At sea, ostensibly on our way to Genoa, but I believe there is a likelihood of our dropping the killick in Rosas Bay, to await arrival of Helicon.

We did not sail until 2 pm this afternoon. The Admiral hoping to hear something about the Admiralty, he having been informed on good authority, that there was a good chance of his being offered the refusal of First Sea Lord, Dacres having left the Board and taking Greenwich Hospital Governorship.

Last night, Farquharson and I determined to go to the Opera, to see Lucia di Lammermoor – and after dinner, at 7.30, we found ourselves in the whaler, pulling ashore. After narrowly escaping shipwreck from several barges, we reached the landing Puesto della Paz and strolling up the Rambla past the Teatro Principale – we fetched the Opera House, (the Teatro del Liceo) and having got an Entrada, paying a peseta for it, we entered the theatre and made our way down to our seats, and found them in the front rows.

We sat down and surveyed the House and its occupants and the upshot of my observations was, that it was a very pretty house indeed, not so large as San Carlo, built more in a form of a horse-shoe. It has six rows of boxes and amphitheatre stalls. The Pit only contains stalls – not badly fitted up, but most certainly not made for a fat person. The boxes are all open, and each box is fitted with a small retiring room behind which can be used for refreshment, flirting etc., so I was informed by Miss de Burgh. The stage is also not so large as San Carlo.

The singers last night were not over good and were not far removed from mediocrity, bar the soprano, who did not do at all badly in the last act. She was ugly and her voice not strong, nor high. Tenor bad and Baritone, not very much better – Chorus a great deal better than our old friends at Malta – Orchestra very good indeed – and one man, who accompanied all the solos on clarinet, played extremely well.

There were some not at all bad looking girls in the House. I paid the Hannays a visit in their box – and they showed me all the beauties and explained why an Entrada had to be got – viz – the boxes and many stalls were bought, so as to build the house, so, unless an Entrada was established, they would get no money to pay the singers.

The same people paid a visit to the ship, during the afternoon and I had the pleasure of showing them over the ship. Hannay is the consul here, and a drunken old Consul is he – stinks of brandy and looks like a bag of wine ready to burst. His two daughters, are not at all bad and only require more grooming to be very passable. Mrs and Miss de Burgh completed the party. They went all over the ship – wings, etc. Came off last night about 12 – the Opera commencing at 7.30 and being over by 10.30.

We set out under steam and sail casting to port – Invincible and Swiftsure have left the squadron for Malta, leaving us only the Pallas and the Helicon, which ship we expect tonight. Dined with the Admiral this evening – conversation on all sides, brilliant – Flag Lieut a great improvement on last.

I left Barcelona with feelings of regret. I’ve never seen any town that I like so well.

DEPART BARCELONA

3 November – Sunday

About due South of the boundary line, between France and Italy – bowling along at the rate of 8 knots, wind abaft the beam. So only being 140 miles off Genoa at noon today, if the breeze holds, we shall get in easily tomorrow. The breeze came on very quickly this morning, accompanied with a heavy squall. The land is on the Port beam, the Maritime Alps showing out bold and clear covered with snow which glistens splendidly in the sun. Some of our sharp eyed shipmates see Mont Blanc – about 180 miles off. Myself; I cannot.

ARRIVE GENOA

7 November – Thursday

We first sighted Genoa on the morning of the 5th. Its white houses and tall lighthouse making it a place not easily to be mistaken. On approaching close the town and surrounding country did look most charming. The town is built at the foot of, and on an amphitheatre – hills running all round the town – commanding it in a military point of view from every spot and I see the Authorities have not neglected the chance, for, on most of the hills are forts and barracks etc. Most of the side is also protected more or less by the same forts, and also by forts and batteries on the two moles.

We let go our two anchors between the Old and New Mole and put the mooring swivel on, and had hardly finished the work, when the Captain of the Port came off to say that we were in the fairway (and I’ve no doubt that we were) and we must shift our billet – but, we deferred doing so, until the next day.

That evening some 12 fellows went on leave to Milan and the Lakes, and I found myself looking out for Prothero’s watch. That evening Martin and I went ashore, landing inside the Old Mole. We walked up the principal street, or, one of the principal streets. It was well lit up and every other shop was jeweller’s shop. We looked into several and on coming to the end of the street, walked up some steps (for it was not a carriage road) and found ourselves in a large plaza.

We enquired for the Teatro Paganini and going in, took pit tickets – entered the theatre, and saw there was no sitting room, so walked out again changed our tickets for stall tickets, paying 4 francs, or, lira for them – and working round a passage, got into our stalls which were not very good ones, being in the first row, for 30 row is the best.

The House was nearly the size of the Malta House, – had six rows of boxes, 178 in all – Stage large. The piece was Il Trovatore and after that a ballet Shakespeare. Company from second to third rate – Tenor and Mezzo soprano good – Chorus and Orchestra very fair. Ballet very good – the dresses and music both being very pretty, They require a Lord Sydney there though, for, some of the girls might as well, as not have worn any dresses at all, for all the good they did. House was very fairly filled. An Opera Company is also going on at the Theatre Trazione – the large Opera House is not open yet. The whole performance was over by 11.30, 4 hours altogether. We got on board as quickly as possible and turned in.

Next day – Wednesday. We took off the mooring swivel, veered on both cables and hauled our stern in to the new Mole, securing it there from both stern pipes by chain stream, leaving a drift of about 3½ shackles from ship to Mole.

That afternoon, Martin and I again went ashore and had a good look into the shops, making some purchases. Got some very pretty coloured prints – 15 lira for 4 – and a few other little things. Went over the gardens, which consisted of wide gravel walks and drives, shaded by trees – but, I saw no flowers. The houses are very high ranging from 6 – 8 stories. Many large buildings, palaces etc., and most of these built of a white stone. More of our fellows went on leave today.

The harbour inside the mole is full of shipping and steamers. I’m told as many as 800 steamers come in annually. Counted 20 in, with their stern hauled into the Old Mole alone. The New Mole is not quite finished. Together, the two moles give very good shelter. Stayed on board last night and played whist. Been on duty all today.

11 November – Monday

Friday last. The Helicon came in bringing Lord and Lady Churston for us, from Marseilles. She moored close to us hauling her stern into the Mole.

Next day Saturday being my day off duty, I went ashore meeting Martin at the landing place. We then set out to get an order for the Pallavicini Gardens. First going to the Consulate, who told us to go to Pallavicini Palace, in Carlo Felice. We went there and were told to go to the Durazzo Palace in Via Balbi. We went in, and on going upstairs I saw a man at a table writing. Accosted him, told him what was wanted. He gave us a permit. We then went to the Royal Palace, and were shown over it. I did not care for it very much. The number of Palaces here is something incredible, and most of them are very beautiful inside. The staircases, pillars and flooring being of marble. I believe there are very few of them lived in by their owners, as they are generally let out in flats for families, or, for shopping purposes.

Wasted the remainder of the afternoon, dawdling about the town and came off early, by the officers’ boat.

Blowing pretty stiff all yesterday forenoon from the SSW and the ship, beginning to work a little, tried the stream cable pretty well.

Got hemp stream out and secured it to the Mole. In the afternoon I went ashore by myself and walked to the left of the town, and then struck up for the top of the ridge of hills surrounding Genoa. After a most tiring walk – I got to the top – and I must say, the view one got, when there, quite compensated for the fatigue, of getting up there. Looking over the top one sees a large and fertile valley full of small hillocks, covered with vineyards and dotted with pretty villas, wherever the eye was carried. Through this valley, ran a broad white water-bed, the sand of which glistened in the sun. Itself, it was dry, but for a small silvery stream meandering through the sand and finding its way to the sea – (It was a view to feast ones eyes on).

I then made a circuit round the ridge of hills, passing a number of small magazines (powder) with sentries at them and finally fetched into the town. Made a course for the Cafe Rossini –(Best cafe is one in the Via Nuova) and smoked a cigar there and had a look at the different people that came, or went.

What struck me most was the much more uniform politeness these people have to one another, than they have in my native land. Clean looking people, are these Northern Italians, better than the Southerners, and much better than those cut throat Spaniards. Came off early today – have been on duty, being my day on.

DEPART GENOA

15 November – Friday

Steaming along, leaving Elba on our left – a mountainous looking country, it looks. We left Genoa yesterday forenoon, had a most miserable time of it getting under way – as it was raining the whole time, a steady downpour. Our S.B. got across the ram, and gave us some little time clearing.

The night before, Wednesday, all the tourists came back, from Milan, Florence etc, and of course were full of the lakes. Most of them had penetrated into Switzerland, as they went to the LakeLugano.

Hammet going sick on Wednesday, let me in – being his opposite number – for keeping his watch – and prevented my going to the Pallavicini Gardens. Had show, close down to the Town, the last day of our stay in Genoa.

Passed Capraia, Garibaldi’s rocky home – and Monte Cristo a small island, forming the theme of one of the Dumas romances.

17 November – Sunday

Steaming along at a slow rate of speed, wind from the Westward, lost sight of Corsica yesterday, and just made out a point of land, on the Italian side this forenoon. We ought to get into Palermo to-morrow, if Lady Churston will but induce her father to put on a little more speed.

Spoke to the Secretary about using his cabin at Malta, he was very agreeable, so if the Captain does not object, it will be very jolly for me.

ARRIVE PALERMO

20 November – Wednesday

We arrived here the night before last in company with the Pallas, but after all our eagerness to get in, we found was no Opera that night.

Next day, (that is, yesterday) I stopped on board, and kept the ship. Sir James Domville and his son Lieut Domville, the 1.1.1. man, dined on board with the Admiral. This morning the Brooklyn – Yankee frigate – went out under sail. She did not make sail over smartly. In the afternoon, I donned my plain clothes, and went ashore at 1.30 pm with my own thoughts for a companion. Walked up the principal street, out through the Porta Nuova, and then turning to the right, made for the Catacombs, in which the Capuchin Brotherhood place their deceased baked brethren.

Entering the gateway, before descending you first notice, stuck all over the walls around, numerous daubs, representing people perishing, from all sorts of accidents, persons throwing up blood, two men holding the basin; – others run over by carriages, carts, others again stabbed, shot and murdered, in various horrible and ghastly manners – and others again being placed in their coffins.

For what reason they put them up, I don’t know, except it is to prepare you for the disgusting sights that meet you, on descending into the vaults below, for there ranged tier above tier, and row behind row, passages running into passages, are some hundreds and thousands of these baked Capuchins – few in good preservation, most of them having little skin left, and all with a most ghastly and sardonic grin on. The most loathsome, were some children, dressed in muslin dresses, white kid gloves, striped socks and shoes – out of all this, a black, withered, shrunk up face looking at you. Virgins are placed in their resting places with golden crowns on their heads.

The best of the whole lot was an old dame standing upright, and looked as if she could count many grandchildren. “No Virgin her – I trow.” One old Bishop, has been there for at least two hundred years, and won’t keep his mouth shut, but lolls his tongue out at all passersby – so, as he will not hold his tongue, everyone that passes, is requested to do so, for him. I complied with the injunction and did what I shall never do again, viz, Pull a bishop’s nose and tongue. My companions, Heyland and Gregory, whom I met in this living vault, had more respect for the old fellow.

Ascending again into the clear fine air, we felt quite relieved and settling ourselves down into a fiacre, bade the driver to take us to the English Gardens. He did so, but after some difficulty in making ourselves understood, we found that these were not the gardens we had intended visiting, so we jumped into our fiacre again, and meeting a Maltese steward, made him explain to the driver, as to where we wanted to go. Found they belonged to xxx.

We soon fetched them, and alighting at the gate-way, an old lady curtsied us in. Entered the three Naval Officers – Old Man appear – Bow Naval Officers – Bow old Man – Naval Officers advance – Old Man still retires – Naval Officer No 1 cuts off Old Man’s retreat – Old Man then advances to Naval Officers 2 and 3 – Again all bow – With bows from all around. Everyone speaks in a language best understood by the speaker – Old Man begins to see our drift and we all laugh and the old man leading, we all follow. So ends this most strange and ridiculous pantomime.

First we are taken through some small avenues and past many pretty picnicking glades, and then we enter a labyrinth, and are taken up to a small hut.

I being the foremost of the party lead, walking up the three or four steps in front of the door, and had no sooner transferred my weight from the ground to the step than open flew the two folding doors and disclosed to view the figure of a wooden monk, dressed in the habiliments of a priest, waving its head and arms in a most threatening manner. On getting off the steps, the doors close again with a bang. Being well prepared for the apparition, it did not startle us – but, if, one was unprepared for it, there is no doubt, that it would startle a visitor a good deal, especially if seen in the dark.

Leaving the priest to his meditations, our guide again threaded his way through the labyrinth and took us up to another small hut, and opened the door. This time it was a monk sitting at a small deal table, who raised his head and waved his hand, waving us off, not wishing to be disturbed at his studies. Wishing him a long good night we walked round the grounds and entered a small glade, with a fountain in the centre, paths leading from this in the direction of the four Cardinal points.

Our guide dilating on the view in a most expressive manner, by his gestures insensibly drew us towards the edge of the glade and near one of those paths, he suddenly sang out to his villainous accomplice, who turned on the water, which came out in jets from the fountain to the edge of the glade and sprinkled us over. We turned and fled up the path, where we were saluted in a similar manner, by jets of water from the box, which bordered the path – and had to run a regular volley of jets of water, before we were clear. The old man was highly delighted at the complete success of the evolution.

Went to one of the hotels, and was accosted by a stranger, who asked me if I belonged to one of the English ships. I replied in the affirmative and he then introduced himself as Dr Shaw – brother of the surgeon at Malta Dockyard and asked me to take a letter down, which, I was only too happy to do as I’ve received much kindness from the Shaws at Malta. Dr Shaw introduced me to his wife and told me that they had come to spend the winter at Palermo.

I like this place, as well as any place that we have been to. It has two fine streets running at right angles to each other, intersecting at the centre. The street that runs East and West, on the Western side merges into a fine carriage road, shaded by trees on each side. It leads out to the valley on the West, and to the Favorita Gardens. There are also some very good public Gardens –besides possessing one of the finest Marinas in Europe.

The country is full of orange groves, and the town is not excepted. Consequently the air has a most delicious smell – which gratifies the sense most completely. The houses are tall, each story has its balcony; shops are fair; a great number of carriages rolling about and an innumerable number of fiacres plying their hire.

The Palermontaise are very busy working away at the Mole, lighters tumbling stones out all day. Cuiti is at the Opera here, but I hear is no great favourite.

DEPART PALERMO

24 November – Sunday

We left Palermo Thursday forenoon under steam, in company with the Pallas and met the Bella-donna yacht outside (Slingsby-Bethell – owner). We stopped, to allow him to come alongside in his gig, to chin-chin with the Admiral.

Next morning (Friday) we had rounded the Western Point of Sicily, and found ourselves opposite to Marsala, which from the sea appeared a very compact and fine town; but these towns being built of a white stone, are very apt to deceive one – for, on entering them, you find narrow dirty streets, with few large buildings in them.

The country around Marsala low, with small ridges of hills. The country is fairly cultivated, from seaward it looks bare, but this is from its being Autumn and the vintage gathered in. Passed several large towns, and arrived opposite the small seaport of Girgenti, the latter town being inland, and the whole of it can be seen as it is situated on the brow of a hill. The ruins are about a couple of miles from the town, and consist of the very perfect remains of a temple, etc.

ARRIVE MALTA

11 December – Wednesday

Sunday – November 24th. We steamed into Malta harbour, getting in shortly after 2 o’c pm, and then commenced the work of getting the double moorings in. We have them taut up by the 7" wire pendant. Altogether the mooring etc. took us about two hours. After supper, we set to work again for some 50 fms of chain had to be got coiled up out of the way, and then the deck had to be cleaned, so, after all that was done, there was little of the Sabbath left.

Next day, I was busy on the Main Deck forward, unshackling the bower cables and paying them down, and superintending the port one. I ordered the Ldg Sea. attending the hook rope to take two turns – with it round the Bitts and turned away. He thought otherwise, for, I hearing a noise, turned round, saw he had thrown off all turns, consequently the cable had taken charge. I jumped to his assistance, unfortunately he let go at the same moment, and my hand dragged round the Bitts. Seeing that I could not stop it, I let go and tried to get clear of the hook-rope, but, it caught my right foot and capsized me up like a nine-pin.

Most providentially the cable had all got to the bottom of the locker, otherwise I might have got into a serious fix. As it was, I got off with a sprained ankle and a few abrasions on the hand. For the next week, I hobbled about on crutches, and found the ladders were a great nuisance, and if I had not had the use of the Secretary’s cabin, I should have been in a great fix. Well for a week, I lived in this way, it then struck the doctors that I had much better go to the Hospital. So, Monday the 2nd inst. I came to this palace, and have been here ever since. I’m very comfortable.

I had a little trouble at first for, with a strong appetite on me, I was put on half diet, but eventually I got put on full diet, which is more than enough. What I dislike here, is the way things are done. 4 drams of tea is not more than sufficient for two cups of tea and the butter only suffices for breakfast. Your sugar is brought wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, that you do not know from whence it has sprung. The doctors are not at all a bad lot – Mason, Robertson and Lambert.

We had a visit from both Admirals Yelverton and Inglefield – the latter had just come from a court martial on Morshead, a Sub-Lieut for getting drunk at his hop. I hear he nudged Inglefield under the fifth rib and asked him “Wher’ol the ices”?. It was a great nuisance, for there were a lot of Yankees and Swedes there. I believe he has suffered from sun-stroke and can’t stand much liquor.

Had a large party of fellows up here Sunday last.

15 December – Sunday

Here endeth another week in the Hospital, and I don’t think I shall be out for some little time yet. No letters today by Mail. Feel dreadfully savage with dear Meta, after all her promises of repentance, in her last letter to me about not writing regularly. My beloved parents, alarmed I’m afraid by my having used an Anamnesis, for my first letter telegraphed out the day before yesterday to Mason, who replied, that I was in rude and robust health. I hope they were not very much startled by my unwitting error.

A very small batch of Commanders and Lieuts made. I hope it is only the vanguard of the main army and that I may bring up the rear. Poor old Paget has been missed over again, we are all very sorry for him.

Everyone is very full of the Naval Ball which is to come off on New Year’s Day. I’m glad to say, that I shall be clear of all that. Had a good many visitors up this afternoon and made the acquaintance of Sir Victor and Lady Houlton yesterday, who came up to pay a visit to Monty Wodehouse and got well wet in doing so. When I asked Sir Victor, if the porter at the gate had said anything to him, he said “No, I suppose he was struck with my dignity.” I could barely keep my countenance, but for all his pomposity, I believe he is very good natured.

The Ballerina yacht has not arrived yet. I’m rather curious to see the Codrington girls, as Meta has told me so much about them.

22 December – Sunday

Very little has occurred to vary the monotony of Hospital routine during the last week that is worth recording. I’m allowed out in the Gardens, which is a great boon. Had a heap of letters from Home, Friday last – plenty of condolence and commiseration. I’m glad that they can’t see me, for otherwise I should feel quite guilty and ashamed in getting so much pity, for such a slight accident.

I was very sorry to hear of my grandfather’s illness, for he is a good age and it does not do to strain the old ship too much – and my dear little Cousin Lily – tormented with rheumatism, just as her holidays are commencing too.

Cockatrice came in yesterday for the Danube.

The Cambridge, gunnery ship at Plymouth broke adrift from her moorings and danced about the harbour – and I believe brought up alongside the dockyard. In fact there has been very bad weather in England – and out here too. A steamer turned clean over, off Pantelleria – in consequence of cargo shifting. Two hands lost, who were down below at the time.

Bully Hall is here, 2nd mate of a small steamer. On his way out, he managed to run a barque down, and sink her, whilst on watch, but I hear that he can clear himself of all blame.

Mason has stopped our tea parties. He happened to be showing a flock of ladies round and broke in upon us, the party including the gigs crew, besides Wodehouse and myself.

29 December – Sunday

Very near the end of another year, another long step towards our grave – already I’ve taken two and twenty – and if good health befriends me and it pleases the Almighty to allow me – I may take another fifty – and it would be well sometimes to look back and ponder on the manner of our making this short march, that is to prepare us for a long eternity. For myself, I can answer, that they have been taken in a most careless manner, not thinking whether I should be allowed to take another, or whether my next step would be into the grave; and I trust that knowing this, it may make me trust for guidance for the future on my God and my Saviour.

The last week has passed, similarly as the one before – going into the garden and reading, or with a cigarette with any fellows that came up. Wodehouse went down to the Inglefields, and stayed there until yesterday – returning to this place.

Christmas Day we had afternoon Service in the Hospital Church, a very meagre attendance. We all dined together, six invalids and a remarkably healthy-looking lot. The Hospital Authorities gave us the old established English Cheer, viz, Turkey and Plum Pudding. How the ½ diet fellows tucked into it. In the evening, I went down to Mason’s and dined with him, Wells being the only other guest. A most dull evening – Two such prosy old boys. Mosquito came in from the Westward.

1973

2 January – Thursday

The Mail coming in yesterday, brought me many letters from home. My father working very hard for my promotion.

Kerr died Monday last, poor fellow not a friend near him. He had been in a delirious state for the last ten days in consequence of secretion getting into his blood and thereby affecting his brain. He was one of our little party up here, was invalided and went home yesterday in the Crocodile. Barley discharged and I going tomorrow will reduce the party here considerably. Tommy Brandreth paid us a visit and was most gracious, and told us about the Hercules running into the Northumberland and making a hole six feet by two under water – the latter ship only saving herself by means of her compartments.

6 January – Monday

At last I’m on board again, having left the Hospital last Friday, late in the afternoon, and between that day and this I’ve nearly managed to sprain my ankle several times.

Saturday – not having taken on my deck, I made calls on everyone, from the Admiral down to my tailor – and finally spent the evening at the Shaws dining with them – a Miss McLeod being there, rather a jolly girl.

Sunday afternoon I walked round to the Hospital and called on all the Doctors and the Matron – and walking up the Gardens met the whole lot of them coming out of church. They were rather surprised to see me come dancing up. I found Monty Wodehouse had gone to the Halletis [?] and Pengelley up; Moss rather worse.

Walked back to Spencer’s Monument and after dining on board, went to the Barracca Chapel and heard the Rev Sydney Clark preach a very nice Sermon. Afterwards went to see the Office fellows, who live at 49 – Piazza something or other, Floriana. Found them all at dinner, waited and had a smoke and chat with them.

Took on duty this morning – find there is lots to do and few hands to do it with, but I shall work hard and keep Lord Collingwood’s letter to Lane in my mind.

I begin to feel the weight of debt, having to deny myself every trifle, however necessary – and want a pair of boots, laced ones, very much, but my horrible debts say No – you must chance spraining your ankle again.

35 Subs promoted and 8 special – Can I be one – I fear me no – for, I should have had a telegraph if, I was promoted. The thought of seeing all those dear faces at home again, but it is a bad thing to nurse expectation and then to throw it to the ground. Wynyard in Growler is one and Graves goes to her, for time.

Hear wonderful accounts of the Grand Naval Ball. It must have been a splendid one. Everything about it in Naval Fashion – guard of blue-jackets for Governor – field pieces etc., driven in their dresses – stars of swords and cutlasses shields round ball room, with ship’s devices and flags to any amount, – boys rigged up in new pumps and hats and white rig, taking programmes about – 900 and odd people were there, dancing commenced at 9.30, and was not over until 5.30 am. Admiral etc. remained at Club until the last dance. The ‘Little Cruises’ came in Saturday evening. Find any amount of shipmates on board Cherub, 1st Lieut, – Taylor, Rawson, Duke, etc. Paid them and their Capt (Bedford) a visit today.

DEPART MALTA

ARRIVE PIRAEUS

13 January – Monday

Off the island of Hydra, steaming 6 knots in company with Swiftsure, Pallas and Research.

Last Wednesday evening I went to the Opera for the first time this season, making use of T.B’s box. The piece was La Favorita – singing poor – a Mrs Reid, an American lady taking the part of prima donna. Her husband, I hear has lots of money, and she goes on the stage merely for amusement, and without remuneration. She has a nice voice but weak. Proni the baritone was good.

Met Ward who had come out especially for this trip, he taking passage in Swiftsure.

Thursday (9 Jan) afternoon we slipped our moorings, having embarked Lord and Lady Churston and three soldier officers, and commenced steaming at 5 knots, which we have been doing ever since – making sail when possible. Passed Capes Matapan and Malea yesterday evening. On the latter dwells a hermit, his dwelling being a small white-washed cottage. Ships passing sometimes stop and supply him with provisions etc. Cerigo was also passed, one of the Ionian islands under the lee of which we had to take refuge in the Rapid, summer of 1871.

Dined last night with Admiral, a very pleasant party and a rattling good dinner. The Main Department is getting on very well. Am very pleased Tommy has given me v.g. for everything.

14 January – Tuesday

It is all up a tree with me this time, for on going aboard the Rapid to visit the fellows last night, I heard of the fellows who were promoted and found myself not amongst them.

I found all the Rapids well – several of them on the point of starting for the New Year Ball (old style) given at the Palace. There were a good many officers went from the fleet and they all say it was a most dull affair, only some 50 ladies to about 800 gentlemen, and our fellows were not taken any notice of, including our dear old Admiral.

They were completely left out in the cold (so it appeared). It may have been from political reasons, the King not wishing to be observed, by the many prying eyes of other nations, to seem to take any particular notice of Great Britain’s representative – (it appears he gave the Admiral a private audience). Montagu, Capt. of Rapid, is a great friend at the Palace. There is a Russian corvette in here, Admiral Botakoff’s flag flying. He has been here now some six years. Greek ironclad Olga, wooden with iron belt round water line, battery not protected. French despatch vessel Desaix, a yacht formerly belonging to Prince Jerome Buonaparte. I suppose our next papers will have the Emperor Napoleon’s death in them.

18 January – Saturday

I have to record one of the saddest accidents that has happened to anyone connected with, in the shape of being a messmate and friend, that occurred today to Roger Martin, Mid. of this ship. Denison (Sub Lieut) and Roger went out this forenoon about 11.20 am in a sailing boat, taking the boatman with them – and also taking guns. At the time they left there was not very much wind, but, it sprang up quickly, coming in puffs from the Northward.

It appears that they were on the port tack sailing about, Martin having just taken the helm, and Denison the gun, preparing to shoot, and keeping it under cover, as there was some bobby on, and the spray was splashing over the bow – when a squall struck the boat, she dipped her gunwale under water, and went down, like a stone. Roger putting the helm down, immediately she was struck by the squall – but she would not feel it. The boatman said in broken English “keep clear of the thwarts” and they found themselves in the water, about ¾ of a mile from the nearest shore, it being the weather one, and no boat near.

They began calling out, but it was to little purpose. Roger saying something about, (and seeing the boat-hook floating,) “trying to get hold of the mast” and then by degrees they separated, the boatman saying there was ship in sight down to leeward (about 3 miles) – it being a large fruit boat, some dozen men in her.

Denison recounts what happened, in this manner;

“I was up to windward, and the boatman and Martin to leeward, the former to my right and the latter to my left and facing to leeward. I did not think of being saved by the ship and faced up to windward looking at the lighthouse ashore, and got my mouth full of water, several times. I tried floating, but found my head went under, and then kept on paddling, looking round several times and seeing two heads in the water, some distance off. At last, I lost sight of them and thought them both drowned. I did not think I should be saved, but kept on paddling and getting very numbed, and weak, in my struggles, at getting my coat and waistcoat off, and effort to get my boots off, the latter of which I failed to do and gave it up.

Finally, I got in quite an apathetic state, and I suppose was rapidly losing all consciousness, and would have gone down; when I was picked up by a boat sent from the large fruit vessel, which had beat up to within half-a-mile and then lowered a small boat, having previously picked ­up the boatman, in the same state, and finding him clinging to the rudder, every-thing else having gone down. We cruised about some time, and I think Martin must have gone down in about 10 minutes after the capsize – he not being strong and having on plain clothes. I was in the water, about three quarters of an hour.”

On Denison arriving on board about 1.30, steam pinnace was sent to try and find the body, grappling for it, but came in at dark unsuccessful – the water being 25 fms deep. I was ashore when I heard the sad news. We all feel his loss very much, indeed, it has cast a gloom over all, for he was a general favourite. Poor Roger, I liked him very much, and did not know until proved by his loss, that this liking had grown into affection. The many expeditions we made together, at Naples, Genoa and elsewhere, rise up in my mind and I see his familiar face, in which there was something very taking.

It is needless to say how glad we were, that we had not to mourn for two of our friends and Messmates – Denison being saved in a most providential way. He must have been very near Death’s doors and must be very thankful for his escape.

20 January – Monday

I have much to put down, my two visits to the Acropolis on Saturday and Sunday – the Royal visit on Friday – the latter of which, I will begin with.

Thursday the 16th was noted for the many visitors, in the shape of Ministers, Admirals, Captains, etc. I had the honour of showing the French contractor (yclept Feraldi) round the ship together with his wife and two daughters, one of them rather pretty. They were very anxious that the Admiral should give a Ball. After 4 pm I strolled ashore to the gardens and heard the Russian band play. 24 in the band and all but one play brass instruments, however they play very soft.

Friday the 17th was the day of the royal visit. Their approach was heralded by a royal Salute fired from the ships in port, who manned yards etc. We had four of our good looking Mids for Side-ways, two of whom went down the side, as the royal barge came alongside. The Admiral received the King and Queen at the gangway, the Captains and Officers ranged along the quarter-deck – bands playing, etc., and the royal guard presented arms, etc. Lady Churston was introduced, with her husband or, rather I should say welcomed the royal pair.

They first went round the Lower deck brilliantly lit up. Then round the Main Deck and went aft at which the port battery and after pivot manned their guns and went through a variety of evolutions very well indeed, the guns being knocked about. Preparing to ram pleased them very much. Her Majesty fired off the port battery by electricity.

They then went on board the Swiftsure. The royal Party stayed about an hour, Her Majesty firing off a couple of torpedoes, which threw up a large column of water. They next proceeded to the royal yacht to shift for dinner.

The King is slight, fair, light moustache, about 5 ft 9 in in height, no great strength of mind is portrayed in his countenance. The Queen is very nearly as tall, fair, a nice rounded figure, with a very jolly face, which I call very pretty, also a lovely complexion. They both look young, and one would not think, that she has four children, she being married at the age of 16 – in 1867, the King being 22 years of age at the time.

They came from the yacht at 6.30 to dine with the Admiral, in company with several other swells – Duke and Duchess of xxx, Lady Agneta Montagu, Mrs Stewart were asked to meet them. 25 sat down all told, including six ladies.

The dinner was a splendid affair, it had been three days preparing, so it ought to have been. The first toast was given by the King to our most august Majesty – the next given by the Admiral to the King and drunk with all honours and three hearty cheers, then followed one to the Queen drunk in the same manner – and finally the King returned thanks in English – for both he and his wife speak English.

Then the whole of the Royal party adjourned to the Poop – a reception being held – then music followed, and the Queen led off in a waltz with Montagu. The rest followed, The Admiral danced, and they all kept on changing partners. The King danced very well, but not so his wife. Then followed Sir Roger de Coverley, into the mysteries of which the Admiral initiated their Majesties. They got quite excited over it and kept it up for a long time. The King doing his best to whirl the Queen over. The Admiral kept trying to cut others out.

They danced starboard side of poop, and the port side was occupied by a crowd of Naval officers, admiring the evolutions. Then after the dance of Sir Roger, came more waltzes, some glee songs by the blue-jackets, a clog dance, acrobatic tricks by a Malta stoker really very clever, then Capt. McLaren, 74 Hussars, danced a sword dance, and did it very well and very prettily. Finally Her Majesty asked for Sir Roger again, and they all danced away and kept it up for a long time and with great spirit and it degenerated into at last a regular romp – all of us the port side keeping time to the music, with our hands and feet.

At 12 o’clock they took their departure, the ships lighting up with blue lights, firing Salutes and cheering their Majesties. They must have thoroughly enjoyed themselves, throwing aside all reserve and stiffness for the nonce.

On Saturday last, that fatal Saturday that robbed us of a pleasant and genial messmate on that day, I started early with Bunbury to visit the vast ruins of past, ruins of a nation that may almost rival the Jews in pointing back to their antiquity. We started at 12.30, Bunbury with a guide book in pocket and I with my mind pretty well stocked with the history of this vast wreck – and touching at Rapidon the way, we got ashore in time to catch the 1.10 pm train, paying about 8½d for our tickets each – 1st class.

We took from a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes to do the five miles from Piraeus to Athens, passing on our right, a large flat piece of ground, on which is erected a statue of a Greek General who lost his life in 1828 or thereabouts, in the war for independence. We also had encamped on it some 20 years ago, several thousand troops, the cricket ground is there now, about a mile and a half from the town.

Next, a view is got of Phaleron Bay, with the royal bathing place there, and a branch line running down to it. The water and sky looked so blue and pretty, with the rounded outline of some islands in the distance. Everything so clear and harmonizing well. We next passed over the Cephissus, which was quite dry, although now winter. A bend in the line spread out a glorious view of the Acropolis, from behind the Musaeum hill (so-called from the poet Musaeus) on which is situated a Monument to Philopappus, Roman consul – and (a grandson of King Antiochus II of Syria), which stands out very prominently.

Arrived at the station, a miserable thing to call a station for a town like Athens. We fought clear of guides and such like would-be friends for the time being, and turned to the right, walking towards the Temple of Theseus situated on an eminence, to the Northward of the Acropolis. Had a good look at it. It is comparatively perfect, and possesses 34 columns, the marble has got quite yellowish – from time. The metopes on the South side are partly remaining, the others are gone, some Goth no doubt knocking them off. It was built in 465 BC by Cimon, son of Miltiades, one of the ten generals and the hero of Marathon – built in honour of Theseus, and the metopes represent the combats of Hercules and Theseus.

We did not go inside to see the fragments of statues, not having time, and also because there was no particular interest attached to them at any rate not connected with any history. From Theseus, we went along the level flat then over towards the Observatory, built on a large mass of rock, a spur running out to the Eastward. At the South of this spur, and close to the end, is a slope down which the Albanian ladies slid, when they were barren and wanted children. I know not, if it was efficacious. On the top of this spur, can be seen remains of foundations of old Attic dwellings

From this rock we went on to the Pnyx, on the right of the valley. Walking up the road, on the hill to the right, is the Pnyx, which means condensed. It is a large terrace, hemmed in on the Eastward by a stone embankment some twelve feet deep consisting of large stones and running round in the form of a semi-circle, its centre being to the SW of it. The western part is shut in by the rock, cut down in a smooth surface. This face of the rock does not run in a perfectly straight superficies, but forms an angle (barely perceptible) at a point, about equidistant from each extremity.

At this point stands the remains of the Bema or pulpit, from which Demosthenes harangued, and spoke those speeches, called the Philippics, when he incited the Athenians to rise up and resist the encroachments and power of Philip and Macedonia. Looking from the Bema, and seeing the remains of the Temples that must have been simply magnificent in his time, one cannot wonder at his appeals being successful. One can almost imagine his appealing to them, showing them these glorious buildings, Monuments of their greatness and liberty – and asking them if these, the rich inheritances bequeathed to them by their forefathers, not much more than a hundred years before, should own any other lords and owners, than they themselves and their sons.

In the erection of this Bema the Spartans and their instruments the Thirty Tyrants, had taken care that the orator should not see the water, on which the Athenians had gained their most splendid triumphs. The old Bema, from which probably Pericles and Themistocles spoke, is higher up, to the S Westward – the Pnyx would hold some 6000 people. The Musaeum hill is next to it, but, we did not cross to it. At the foot of it are several caverns, called the Prison and Tomb of Socrates who drank hemlock somewhere about 400 BC for teaching so-called false doctrines.

We next went across to Mars Hill, a large rock, with two platforms on the top – at the NW of Acropolis and close to it. I rather think the ground to the SW of it, formed the Court of the lower Areopagus, of the 500. We went up the 16 self-same steps that, it is no presumption to say, St Paul went up by and found ourselves on the higher flat of the two, on which sat the highest court of appeal in Athens, and from which St Paul preached to the people in the Agora below and around, that Sermon, on the altar to the Unknown God.

We got a good view of the town and the great square palace – ugly enough. It wants a colonnade run along its West front, to hide the lower windows and then half columns, from the colonnade to the top. It might then look decent. Mars Hill, we crossed over to the Acropolis, entering by a small postern gate, the old way being between two square towers, that is now blocked up.

The Acropolis is a huge mass of rock, barely a quarter of mile long and about half that in breadth. It has a wall surrounding its Southern, Eastern and Northern sides. On the former, put up by Cimon, Bunbury and I could see clearly here and there a broken pillar put in, to build the walls. It is called the Cimonium Wall in honour of its builder.

Western sides – and the Erechtheum to our N. East. We followed the route of the Panathenaic procession, as of yore and coming up to the Erechtheum, entered it. The cella has three porticos, its Southern being that of the famous Caryatids – two only of the originals remaining, and those mutilated sadly. I doubt if their makers would recognise them. The Southern portico is in the most ruinous condition – the Northern portico is the best – it also possesses a most perfect doorway, the frieze on it being little injured – and the roof of this portico being also, pretty well preserved.

From the Erechtheum we went on to the Parthenon, entering it by its Eastern entrance, Its platform is xxx feet long by xxx feet wide and stands on a platform ascended by three steps. It has a portico, both at its Eastern and Western entrance – gigantic pillars (Doric) running round its four sides – and at each end of the cella.

Over the triglyphs at Eastern entrance, marks on the stones show where shields have been hung up – and at the Southern side, are nails on which garlands were hung up.

I could not do justice to this Temple by my description, so I shall refer anyone to any of the numerous books and histories noticing it. It was built by Pericles, in 400 BC or thereabouts – and in it stood Phidias’ great work of art in the shape of a statue some 70 feet high, made of gold and ivory, by direction of the people, Pericles asking them which it should be, marble or ivory?

The point of Minerva’s spear, glistening in the sun, could be seen afar off by sailors – and was always hailed by them with joy. I ought to mention that Alaric was frightened by it, from plundering the Acropolis.

A curious circumstance connected with the Temple of the Minerva Pallas, or the Erechtheum, is that the priesthood of it remained in one family for 200 years, although subjected to live a life of celibacy. Before leaving the Acropolis, we had a look at several friezes, statues etc., one of the latter, a part only, just outside the Propylaea on its South side, were the strident legs of a man, executed by Socrates.

Leaving the Acropolis, we passed by the remains of Herodes Atticus’s Odeum and Theatre of Dionysus the former erected by Herodes Atticus, an Athenian, who discovered a large treasure trove in his grounds. He wrote to Hadrian and asked him to accept of it. The Emperor, rather taken by this wily move of the Athenian, refused and told him to spend it as he liked; consequently he built this Theatre and embellished his native city in many ways.

On to the Temple of Jupiter Olympus, sixteen columns out of 120 only remaining, the Turks having burnt the remainder for lime. They are of the Corinthian order – one column has fallen down as gracefully as a lady at a Ball – all the pieces having separated, but, all in line and in good order. The proper thing to do there is to smoke a chibouque and have a cup of coffee, under one of the pillars and ruminate on its past greatness.

Close to this temple, is the River Cephissus, and on the opposite side of the river, is the Stadium partly excavated. We then walked into the town through Hadrian’s Arch, and on to the Temple of the Winds, leaving the Lantern of Demosthenes on our left. The former is an octagonal tower, with coarse figures on each quarter, representing the winds. The latter is rather a graceful little thing. We did not visit the Ancient Agora, of which a few pillars of the gateway only are remaining.

On arriving in the town, met Shillington, who told us the sad news of poor Martin’s death. We came down by the 5.30 train and got on board in time for dinner.

Yesterday, Prothero and I went ashore for a stroll, round and over the Acropolis.

DEPART PIRAEUS

23 January – Thursday

Yesterday afternoon, the fleet got under way in a very good style and we steamed along 5 knots. This morning we were off Cape Malea, and went within 600 yards of it. The old hermit that lives there, came down to the point, and (stood over some broken arches) waved his hand in the direction we were going and began singing. It is to be presumed that he was singing for us to have a fair wind, as it was against us. He lives in a small round whitewashed cottage on the western side of the cape and some 500 yards from the end of it. A great many ships stop and land provisions for him.

We had not proceeded any great distance, before we saw a large French steamer, as we thought ashore, but it appears had broken her shaft. We then left the Pallas to tow her into the Piraeus and then go on to Malta, so I expect they are growling rather, at being done out of their Corfu trip.

ARRIVE CORFU

28 January – Tuesday

Arrived in here Saturday night, ten o’clock pitch dark raining hard and blowing pretty stiff, from the SE. sending us along 8 knots. Found the Hart in, and I got letters from home. Next morning (Sunday) as we were much closer tide [?] than was pleasant, we up anchor and moored further in towards the town, anchoring in 16 fms and veered to 6 shackles.

Everyone full of going pig-hunting to Albania. One party of six fellows from the G.R. started Sunday night, having been lent a yacht for two days, and for the remaining six days they encamped out. Two more parties started Monday – Hammet’s party expect the expenses for the eight days to come to £5 each.

Hamilton of the Rapid, who I had asked to take passage up here to us, left yesterday for Ancona, in one of MacIver’s steamers. He travels 2nd class and it will cost him £20 to get home. I don’t expect the Admiralty will reimburse him at all for, according to the last order, they will not pay the usual two-thirds passage money – but, make you await passage in a Man-of-War, which may detain one for weeks. It is evidently done to make fellows pay their own passage, for My Lords know well enough, no one cares to hang out in a ship, on half-pay. It is such orders as these, that counteract all the good feeling and contentment engendered by other great and useful acts, such as the University at Greenwich, which is a capital thing for us all and is just what is wanted.

31 January – Friday

Went to the Opera, a few nights back, the Vice Consul having placed at our disposal half-a-dozen boxes. The Opera was Ruy Blas. House miserable, scarcely bigger than the Gibraltar House, and company very poor, the soprano had a good voice, required training. All the women were very full bodied – their breasts swelling out like a topsail full of wind. There were a great many people at the Opera – the boxes won’t hold more than four.

Yesterday the Commander and Paget went over to Albania shooting, the latter came back in the middle of the day, having fallen down and ran a thorn into his right eye. It came out on his coming alongside but it is feared he will lose the sight of it. The Commander came back later on having had good sport, hare, duck, woodcock, snipe, etc. He shot 37 birds off his own gun. No boars were seen.

It rained heavy all the forenoon, and part of the afternoon, but notwithstanding the state of the weather, we got up a paper chase – at least Corry in the Swiftsure did. We met at the George Hotel and walked out to the University and at 2.15 we started off, Corry, Adamson and Fleet being the hares. After a quarter of an hour’s start, we, the hounds followed and soon after doing so, down the rain came, drenching us to the skin in less than five minutes. Over fields, sodden with rain, hedges by no means easy to push through and on to the road leading away to the right over a bridge and then making a detour round to the left, through a wood and more swamps, we came to the river, over which we had previously crossed by the bridge, and in we plunged. It was running swift, very dirty, about 30 feet wide and up to one’s thigh. After coming out of the river, the scent lead us through a bog and a lane, the amount of dirt being something incredible. However we had a drag through it and then through more wood, swamps etc., and on to the road again, on which we kept for about two miles and then turned off in the direction of the One Gun battery and finally into the town.

The George being reached about 4.45, all of us wet through, but we had a capital run of 2½ hours, covering 10 miles, equivalent to about 16 or 17 in fine weather. We had gone to the right of the town and then making a circle round, came in by the left of the town. In some of the villages through which we passed, the population turned out en masse to see us passing. Came on board, had a scalding hot cup of coffee, and shifted and have got off very well with only a slight sore throat and cold. The name of the river through which we waded was the Plaine.

3 February – Monday

Walked out to the One Gun Battery, Friday last with Perry. It is a delightful little walk of about 2 miles, well wooded each side of the road, the whole way. The Battery, or what remains of it, looks down on a large lagoon from the height of about 200 ft. Opposite to it is a high mountain, on the side of which is the village of Garema [?], well worth going to, on account of the view to be seen from it. But even from the battery it was a very pretty view, overlooking all the olive woods and plains beneath – and the great beauty of Corfu lies in its not tiring the eye, by its sameness. For there are plains, and woods, and mountains, all looking very green and pretty and contrasting one against another and then on the opposite side of the sea, lies the high great mountain range of Albania, which looks arid and bare in comparison to Corfu. The more I see of Corfu, the more I regret we ever gave it up, more especially to a people who can’t appreciate having the possession of it.

Sunday – I went first over the citadel which is in a dismantled condition and has, at present, a garrison of 200 men; and then I went to the English church (Mr Hughes) which goes in at 3 pm and can’t say I was very edified by what went on there. After Service walked out to the convent where the remains of Count Capo d’Istria rest, President of the Greek Republic assassinated in 1831 by a Greek fanatic. There is a slab put up to his memory.

Came on board early – Wizard came in about 9 pm bringing mails – Had a letter from my father, who gave me the particulars of the Aurora’s row – and to me there seems to be no doubt that it originated from want of tact on Sargeaunt’s part.

DEPART CORFU

6 February – Thursday

Left Corfu the day before yesterday, with a fair wind, which gradually drew ahead and this morning we shortened sail and put the ship head to the sea, there being a good swell on – and ship rolling very heavy, 37° in one roll

Last night, I could not get a bit of sleep, in consequence of the gear smashing. One of our small guns took charge, and jumped out the carriage – Admiral’s dinner went down the lee scuppers, much to the disgust of the cook. Our Mess only lost its soup.

ARRIVE MALTA

10 February – Monday

After all our rolling and knocking about here we are at last, swinging round our great 3 inch moorings and likely to remain for some little time.

We came in Saturday forenoon, and took in the moorings, if anything dirtier than ever and just as the mate of the Main Deck was beginning to wash down, all hands left to Out Boats and they remained on deck more or less all day, leaving me few hands to do anything on the deck. However, by dint of mixing blacking myself and working hard got things on the main deck in order for Sunday.

Sunday, I made for the sod landing at Corradino and walking round to the Northumberland, I found Lindsay not on board, so I made for the yacht Ballerina and going on board found all the Codringtons on board surrounded by a posse of visitors. They were all very agreeable but I did not stay long as their cabin was crowded. Attended the Barracca Chapel and then went over to dine with Dr Shaw, to meet Capt. Alexander, who told me it was my own fault not making myself earlier acquainted to him. Had a chat about my people.

This afternoon after work, shaped course for the Canteen, had a game of fives, then off to dinner and dressed for the Opera.

12 February – Wednesday

Monday evening went to see Traviata, a new prima donna making her appearance, Beatrice Amore, she was not bad looking, and had a powerful voice, a little inclined to the hard. She could not act a bit and it was great fun, seeing her acknowledging the plaudits of the audience. It was very evident she was not accustomed to appearing on the stage.

Yesterday we coaled ship and did it remarkably well; getting 260 tons in during the first two hours and the whole 500 tons in, in five hours.

15 February – Saturday

Thursday afternoon landed at the Dockyard and shaped course for the Northumberland and found my old shipmate Lindsay on board. We proceeded below and he then introduced me to Mrs Reid, the American Prima-donna here. He showed me a painting of his betrothed, she did not appear as if she was a great beauty judging from the portrait – and Lindsay had the honesty to say it flattered her too. However the father has the dollars, which is more to the point, but Joe can’t get him to shell out, so it is rather a nuisance – and the marriage is postponed until he does.

Walked round by the head of the harbour, had to dodge the showers. When I got round to Valetta, I made several calls on the big wigs and did it in a most dowdy rig too – in fact, I was nearly bowled out by the Admiral. I was writing my name down, when I heard his voice and step approaching, so it was a case of down pen, and run for it. I hope he will be able to make my name out.

Thursday evening, I went to the Opera in company with Lindsay and Denison – to see Don Giovanni. I liked the music very much indeed – Mrs Reid looked most charming. Sat out the latter part of the piece in the Codrington box. Think Nellie and Annie very charming. Yesterday afternoon (Friday) I took the whaler ashore and brought off Mrs Reid and Col (that is her husband) and in company with Wood, shewed them over the ship. She is a bit of a Yankee, but great fun.

Last night I went to the 74th dance and nobbled Nellie C. – before anyone else got hold of her. Asked for half-a-dozen dances, she very kindly gave me four, – she looked very nice and dances superbly. I think she looked better than Annie C. It was a very good dance – I left at 2.30.

This afternoon (Saturday) landed in my skiff and met the C’s. Shopped with them for a couple of hours (in which like all petticoats) they hauled everything about, much to the shopman’s disgust. I came off to dinner, my feet wet through and the seat of my trousers dripping.

18 February – Tuesday

Dined last Sunday evening with Major and Mrs Russell 13th Hussars, Morrell’s Hotel – Spent a very pleasant evening. In the afternoon, landed at the canteen with Cecil, saw the Colonel start off on his bicycle, and then walked round the head of the harbour and out to Pieta, inspected the hydraulic lifting dock, heard a piteous tale from the keeper of the said dock, about the loss of his son, the only accident that occurred the whole time of building. He told us he was going to put a mark up, thereby insinuating to us that we might assist, gave him a 1/– to make a mark down his guts [?] .

We then after doing this most charitable action, went to the Club, and I went on to St Paul’s. Met the Codringtons there and walked down to the boat with them. Asked Church to delay the sailing of their yacht a few days, he promised to do so.

20 February – Thursday

The Ballerina sailed yesterday afternoon, for Syracuse and Corfu, Sir Henry having put five Maltese on gilding his yacht. I bid them goodbye Tuesday afternoon. Went on board Italian packet and saw Barnett and McAlpine off.

This afternoon proceeded on board Invincible and danced away the afternoon – the Misses Samuelsons being great fun and not dancing badly. Walked round the harbour last night with Cecil (Lord Francis) doing it easy under an hour from the Club to Canteen.

23 February – Sunday

Friday and Saturday afternoon fives – and Saturday evening (last night) as 4 G.R. officers were invited to the Maltese Casino San Giovanni to a dance, I went to represent the ship – and danced away for a couple of hours on a stone floor until my feet nearly dropped off, with Misses Borgs, Caruanas and Salvos to any extent.

One Miss Caruana, a fine big girl regularly took charge of me and we dashed through the people – for the room was crowded with Maltese, no English being there – my scales making a fine gangway.

The refreshments fetched me properly, tea and sugar plums, with a bottle of brandy and some fruit, and it was owing to that last mentioned article of food that Miss Caruana quite killed the growing love that was springing up within me for her. I offered her refreshments, but she refused everything excepting an orange; a Mandarin? “No – a blood please.” – I got a blood, with a lurking fear of what was coming.

I put it on a plate and was on the point of cutting it up for my fair partner, when she stopped me and with a most winning smile said – Would you please peel it for me? Now anyone who knows what skinning a blood orange is, will know the nice little task she set for me, my hands clothed in nice white gloves. However I had to say I should be delighted. (May I be forgiven the crammer I told). So it was a case of off gloves and skin away. By the time I had finished my hands were in a most disgusting state, sticky and wet with orange juice and she never even said “I’m sorry for the trouble.” I took good care not to ask her to refresh herself again. There were a great many masks and dominoes there last night and a good many fancy dresses. It was a very mixed party.

I nearly made a blooming error last night, walking along Strada Reale. I saw before me what appeared a Rear Admiral with a lady on his arm, looking into a shop and appearing in great perplexity. I was on the point of going up and offering my help, thinking it was Adm. Inglefield, when this distinguished officer turned round and disclosed the features of Zammit, our G.R. servant. I made all possible sail, away from him.

This forenoon the mail came in and brought me letters from home, all well I’m thankful to say. This afternoon Cecil and I went out to Malias and had something to drink and came back meeting a good many masquerading figures, this being the first day of the Carnival. Attended the Barracca this evening – and intend turning in early, as the dancing on a stone floor makes one awfully tired.

28 February – Friday

Nothing but a series of balls etc. to note down.

Monday last being the day on which a large fancy dress ball was given by His Excellency the Governor, to which I went, as did also some 1200 other people, a great many in costume. I got there early so as to see the march past, of Lady Seymour’s and Lady Houlton’s quadrille parties, the former set made up of English and the latter of Maltese. Both sets looked very well, Lady Seymour looked very pretty as she came in and Lady Houlton came sailing in, like a large line of battleships under all sail.

One of the Miss Samuelsons rigged up like a Welsh peasant looked uncommonly well. Le Strange as Mephistopheles and Walker of 28th as Father Christmas and Ramsay as a Saxon soldier were very good. I spoke to the latter some five minutes not knowing who it was. We were all bundled out at 2 or a little after. I could not get anything to eat, a very scanty spread laid out. The Maltese distinguished themselves very much by laying in a sea-stock of grub, for Lent – and they pretty well cleared the table amongst themselves.

Next evening (Tuesday) dined early and with Cecil went to a ball given by the Maltese at the Casino San Giovanni. We found ourselves amongst the earliest, but the people very soon began crowding in. Miss Caruana amongst them. I pretty well filled up my card with her name. We had great fun, the dancing being kept up with great fun and spirit. Miss Caruana distinguishing herself in the dancing line. I found it awful fagging work dancing on the stone floor. It was all over by midnight, Lent beginning then.

On Wednesday evening dined with Dale of the Cruiser, Mortimer of the Pallas being the other guest. He gave a rattling good dinner – departed at 1 am going away a richer man by 4s 6d gaining it by whist.

Yesterday afternoon (Thursday) went ashore to St Lukes Bastion, to which place the rank and beauty of Malta flocked to see the troops assault some outworks of Floriana, they being defended by the Artillerymen and Fencibles. Could see nothing of what was going on, but heard of lot of guns going off.

7 March – Friday

The day before yesterday in company with Cecil and Hext, paid a visit to the Wachusetts and Wabash, the former a sloop and the latter a fine frigate. The former mounts 9 and 11 inch small bore guns, 6 large ones. She was not over clean and the men did not look overclean either. The Wabash was in dock. She is a double banked frigate, guns along her waist and mounts some 50 odd – all 9 inch smooth bore with the exception of two rifled guns and one pivot 11 inch. Being in dock one could not expect her to be very clean.

The decks are low and very clear overhead – very few pumps, no Downton pumps, only chain pumps. The men mess generally on the deck, not being allowed to use their tables and the men looked a very rowdy lot altogether. Their big boats are stowed in the nettings, also stowing two in the waists. She has patent trusses and hoists in heavy weights, so my informant said, by her yards up to 9 tons.

12 March – Wednesday

Dreadfully behind in my Journal. I have had such little time to myself during the last week, dining out, Rowleys and Gordons, and spending my evenings on board the Wabash which ship sailed this morning in company with Wachusetts. The Wabashs gave a dance last Saturday, a very pleasant affair. The officers are a very decent lot, the best I’ve seen to wit, Wood, French, Jack Fremonte. I smoked away several evenings there. Took the Shaws over Wabash this afternoon.

13 March – Thursday

This forenoon during the dinner hour the flag-ship subs had their photographs taken, a good deal of difficulty was found at first in doing so, in consequence of the fellows all grinning like Cheshire Cats just at the moment when it was highly necessary to look grave. However eventually after several shots, the photographer succeeded in getting a fair one.

Played at fives all the afternoon, feeling too lazy to go and make calls.

16 March – Sunday

Walked up to the Hospital with Prothero and saw Pengelly and several others. There are 16 officers up there. The Ariadne came back this forenoon, her Captain and Paymaster sick with typhoid fever, she is in Bighi Bay. Attended the Barracca Chapel and then walked round to Shaw’s and smoked with him until 11 o’clock.

18 March – Tuesday

All ready for slipping tomorrow morning. Yesterday I made my round of official calls, finding no one at home. The great talk of Malta at present is the engagements of Capts. Campbell and Dawson to Misses Noble and Daniell, for although there are so many eligible young men and women here, few engagements come off.

Blowing a sirocco wind, not very good for the races.

21 March – Friday

Just come in from firing and (not long risen up from playing a game of whist and winning 16 points). We did not go out on Wednesday as there was a little wind, so put it off until today, and went out at 7.30 this morning, and after firing in the forenoon and drilling all the afternoon, came in about 5 o’clock. I was going to dine with Tommy, but having a cold in the head I did not think it would go well with a dinner party so asked J.B. to excuse me.

Danced away yesterday afternoon on board the Pallas it was a very pleasant little hop; inclined to be warm.

Wednesday afternoon, the day we should have gone to sea, I went to the races with Cecil and they were not up to much, half-a-dozen horses doing all the duty. Lost half a dollar; not a very a large sum.

26 March – Wednesday

During the last week little of interest or importance has occurred. Heard from my mother yesterday who told me Rose Stewart had got married to Mr Harvey, 42nd, in a quiet sort of elopement manner. At present a northerly sirocco is blowing bringing rain up with it, so there is no boating. Spent last Sunday evening at the Shaws and promised to get Madame some cocoa, which promise up to this moment I had quite forgot – worse luck to me.

28 March – Friday

More subscriptions, Regatta and Rifle match. Malta is about the worst place for subscriptions. Yesterday lunched with the Manns, met Mrs Courtenay there she looked very nice and greatly improved since last summer. After lunch we proceeded to the Palace to hear some amateur singing and taking the generality of singers would not mistake them for professionals. This afternoon had the Reids off to tea, they sail for Italy Tuesday next.

31 March – Monday

Lunched today with the Manns and then we went on to see the croquet ground. A brooch and a pair of earrings played for, presented by Capt. Buchanan, on his leaving the island. They were not of the best taste, being very flashy.

4 April – Friday

Heard from Annie a few days back, she seems very happy and made ten thousand apologies for leaving me in the cold so long.

Yesterday afternoon played at fives all the afternoon and later on went out skiffing.

8 April – Tuesday

Last night paid Willoughby a visit and had a rubber of whist, lost the sum of 2/–. Sunday last spent the evening at the Shaws. Everyone very full of the coming Regatta.

13 April – Sunday.

This morning whilst sitting in the Gun Room, a telegram was brought me, I opened it and heard the welcome intelligence of my being promoted and also a request not to make it public. Now I put it to any disinterested person: how I was to conceal such a fact? The G.R. was pretty full and everyone saw the telegram come in and knew it must either be good or bad news and watched my countenance, whether a long face was drawn on, or a gleam of sunshine passed over it. Well I can swear the first did not occur and all but swear the latter did, for a shout was raised and congratulations poured upon me from my messmates in a most hearty manner before I said a word. The secret was out so I was not going to make a mystery out of very little, so I owned to the soft impeachment of being promoted and forthwith told the Captain and Commander, who congratulated me very warmly. Ultimately, I saw the Admiral who spoke very kindly in the usual manner.

I can hardly realize the great pleasure of seeing all my family again for I felt that pleasure tenfold more than even at my getting my step. If I’m made in a batch I shall jump over about 70 and at any rate have gained a year in time, at the best least being just three years seniority. I’m second senior in the Mess and the only one that came out in the ship as a Sub.

Attended the Barracca this evening and heard a very good sermon from Sidney Clark. Have been ruminating on the ways and means of getting home.

Pulling regatta came off. Paul and I the only two pulled in the skiffs. He headed her, but in rounding buoy I cut him out and came in first, and not sorry it was over, won 2/6 and my own entry – better than nothing.

16 April – Wednesday

Dined last night with the Admiral a small party, Mrs Carpenter, and Lady Gertrude Talbot, Barnett, Le Strange and staff being there. A very pleasant dinner after which some of us went to the Opera and saw Jones.

Our dance came off yesterday and was a most successful one. Some 500 people came off and the ship was very nicely done up. The sailing regatta also came off but was not a good match, in as much as soon after starting the wind fell very light and the boats came in very late, more by ‘jigging’ and ‘bucketing’ than sailing.

This afternoon the launches went away sailing again and our two came in first by half-a-mile or more.

22 April – Tuesday

This last week I’ve been very busy getting ready to go and paying visits.

Friday last the Italian mail brought papers with the announcement of my promotion in them, so yesterday I called on the Admiral, who was very civil and told me he should send me home by the Crocodile, which is due tomorrow morning, so I shall be home in a fortnight’s time, or less.

Dined last night with Phillips in W.R. and then he took me to the Opera, it being Conti’s benefit night. The house was very full and Conti acted splendidly notably in Don Carlos and Crispino e la Comare.

Have got the xxx and can’t get rid of the beastly things – how I got them I don’t know.

LEFT MALTA

25 April – Friday

On way home, passed Galitas this morning. Steaming 9 knots so tomorrow week we ought to let go the anchor in English soil.

Tuesday night the trooper came in to Malta and on the following day I joined her for passage, paying full passage money, 7/6d wine excluded. I consider it a great shame, for I must come home somehow or other.

We sailed Wednesday night at midnight getting clear of the harbour about 12.30, having to use a tug to slue her round, as her head pointed right up the harbour. Yesterday we passed Pantelleria the scene of the Lord Clyde’s disaster.

The saloon is very full, as many as eighteen ladies taking passage. Miss de Graves an old acquaintance of mine and Capt. Parkin’s sister-in-law is also making the trip, as is Gertrude Shaw who is going home under a Mrs Travers’ care who has daughters numerous in number. The ship is full of invalids since the ship left Bombay, as many as eight men and one woman have died, one man dying last night and being buried this morning.

27 April – Sunday

Steaming away 10 knots and about entering the Straits of Gibraltar, which we shall pass tomorrow forenoon. Up to this morning we have had a splendid breeze right astern from Friday last. Bringing up rain yesterday made it a dull day, for everyone had to vegetate in the saloon most of the time and the ship rolling somewhat made sweet faces look sour, and sour faces not sweet. The ladies stowed Musselbank aft the whole evening and I managed to kill time by reading Peter Simple and playing Grab and Beggar my neighbour, two very interesting and exciting games.

This morning the rain cleared off and everyone trooped on deck for fresh air. We had church on the troop deck – most of the eighteen ladies being there, added a good deal to the vocal part of the service. This evening more singing by the ladies in the lower tier of cabins.

I find it hard work getting through the time. Captain Parkin won’t let me do any duty, as he says I’m on half pay, although Captain Brandreth asked him to let me. Eat, drink and sleep is the order of the day. I sit at the table up at the ‘skey’ end. A Major Smart on my right, who looks at life on its Council side. Opposite Col Boothby who makes furious love to a Miss Swinhoe. Next the latter, a dry old stick of an Army doctor; at the head of table Dr Telfer, RN, who thinks more of his guts than anything else, and a few other amusing characters sprinkled round.