Dido—China

The force collected at Woosung to proceed up the Yang-tse-Kiang consisted of seventy-three sail, men-of-war and transport, three of them being line-of-battle ships. The whole, anchored in single line—with room to swing, required space. It was a beautiful sight. On a signal from Flag for fleet to weigh, in a few minutes you would see a white cloud, three miles in extent, moving up the river. While the seamen went aloft to loose sails, troops manned sheets and halyards. Wind heading, the reverse took place, and a forest of masts succeeded the white cloud.

The half-dozen small steamers were constantly on the move surveying. The smaller craft were detached in various directions to collect cattle and other food for the use of the fleet.

Weighed with my division at 4 A.M. with a fair wind, the whole fleet making considerable progress. The land getting hilly, and assuming a much more interesting appearance.

Started in gig for the flagship. Slashing tide: missed Cornwallis, and got on board Belleisle. Took every opportunity of seeing my old friends of 98th, with its new Colonel, Colin Campbell. Regiments on the Indian station were allowed a double set of officers, so I had many fresh friends to make. Surveying steamers sent ahead reported being fired upon from Golden Island.

It would take a thick volume to describe all the incidents that occurred during the progress of the force up the river. It was slow, and communication was kept up by signals and boats. The fleet brought up off Chiang Kiang-Fu on the 19th, and disembarkation commenced.

Gran. Loch managed to ford the ditch, some 50 feet wide, close to the West Gate, which was afterwards blown in by bags of powder attached.

The ends of works form a hexagon shape.

Inside, where John Chinaman had felt himself so secure with his walls and ditch, I saw them the next morning in small heaps, dead, with blackened faces, and cards in their hands. I could not make out whether the game was whist or baccarat.

On going through the town, there were piles of dead Chinese soldiers at the corners of the streets. While contemplating one of these heaps, a body sprang up and performed a somersault: it was a Chinese soldier whose fuse had reached his magazine. It takes three of them to serve a musket. One carries a crutch, another loads, a third takes aim and fires.

The place was full of food, which no one knew better where to find than the thieves. When boats landed from men-of-war to pick up wounded, the Chinamen were made to deposit their loads of loot in the boats.

Nanking was next to be reached, and Dido was sent in advance to prevent communication with the north side of the river. Our ships were now swarming with rats, and crews getting unhealthy.

In spite of the fall of the great city of Chiang Kiang-Fu, the chiefs were determined not to stop until they had invested Nanking.

Started with Hall in Nemesis on a foraging expedition. The best plan was to catch a fat Chinaman, generally the chief of a village. The people always pleaded poverty as an excuse. Having dropped on to a chief such as I have described, I gave him until 4 P.M. to supply twenty-five bullocks or have his tail cut off, which had the desired effect.

Dido’s boats were now away at night searching junks lying up creeks, to see they did not contain soldiers. Coming across a lot which appeared likely to be used for the conveyance of troops and stores, tried to examine one. Seeing a rope over the side, I climbed up near to the entrance-port, when the rope was let go from inside, and I fell across the gunwale of my boat.

I was placed at the bottom, suffering great pain, and taken back to the Dido, three miles off. When alongside, believing my back to be broken, requested to be allowed to die where I was. A cot, however, was lowered, into which I was lifted carefully, and so hoisted on board. The gunroom skylight was removed and the cot laid on the mess-table.

The surgeons, Donoghoe and Simpson, on close examination, found nothing but one small spot on a joint of the backbone, and under the influence of an opiate I was conveyed to my cabin.

Mandarins came from Nanking with flags of truce and “chops” for Admiral and Plenipotentiary. Our chiefs had, however, decided not to hold their hands until they had a footing in Nanking.

Ordered to proceed, the Admiral placing the smaller vessels under my command; among them my old friend Childers—but, oh! so altered.

Fleet coming up. Admiral was towed into a berth off Nanking. Cornwallis the first ship that had reached that famous city.

Fleet closing up. Visited Plenipotentiary, also General Sir Hugh Gough; and Belleisle, with Colonel Colin Campbell and 98th Regiment.

Fleet still closing. Dido again ordered ahead to stop communication from north side. Having a heavy sick-list, took possession of two roomy junks, in one of which I embarked clothes, mess-traps, etc.

Off Nanking. Found artificers from ships cutting down huge trees to get a clearer view of the walls of the city. Looting was strictly forbidden. On board Cornwallis was Sir Hugh Gough, when Trowbridge, of the Clio, came alongside.

The General, observing boxes in the boat, asked: “Captain Trowbridge, is that loot?” Trowbridge replied he thought it was, as he had just bought it from a soldier! Bits of chaff were not taken notice of. Dined with Admiral.

Trowbridge, Loch, and Skipwith dined with me on board junk.

Landed with Admiral at daylight to search the most practicable place for storming with boats. There will be some bloody noses on Saturday.

In spite of looting being forbidden, we met the boat’s crew of a transport carrying heavy cases. The Admiral wore a costume suitable to the climate—a white jacket and straw hat. On Sir William asking, “What have you got there?” the reply was, “Sugar. And, if you look sharp,” said the gentleman in charge, “you may get some too; there is some brown left.” In reply he got, “You will take those cases on board the Cornwallis, and say the Admiral sent you.” They obeyed, the Admiral’s coxswain attending.

Next day I landed early with Sir Hugh Gough, the Admiral, and Plenipotentiary, to survey walls in another direction.

No fight Pidgin yet. Great appearance of peace being concluded. Kellett, of surveying vessel Starling, to breakfast. Shifted junk higher up the river; James Fitzjames and Skipwith to dinner.

Every appearance of peace being made. Proper day to make it on—quite a day of rest. Tête-à-tête dinner with Armytage.

Too much rain. Visited Admiral, peacefully inclined.

Up early and looted some plank from villages up the river, about two miles in extent, built entirely on rafts, which were probably built for the conveyance of soldiers.

Bullock junk up from Dido. Bad accounts of the sick. Young Robinson dead. Forty-eight on sick-list. Poor fellows!

Captain Bouchier, Grey, and self examined and passed Hickley; smart young fellow.

Dined with Admiral, who kindly invited me to remain to meet the Mandarins who were to come the following day. Sent for my cot.

A large assemblage of chiefs. Contrast between Mandarins and our chiefs. Was thanked by General and Admiral for the effectual way in which, some miles ahead of the fleet, reinforcements for Nanking garrison had been prevented crossing the river from the north side.

While in the river was laid up for some days with a sharp attack of malarial fever.

Peace proclaimed.

Ratification of the treaty approved by the Emperor himself. Glad of the chance of getting out of this river; the water is low and beginning to smell.

Lieutenant Horton from Endymion joined, having exchanged with Eden.

Sent invalids for survey, to fleet in junk. In a heavy squall hospital junk parted cables, and is now well in the rushes.

No return of fever. Medusa, steamer, coming down with invalids to go home by Calliope.

Sick-list heavy; but few men fit for duty. Like new First Lieutenant much. Harlequin coming up. My poor steward very ill; ditto cook. Rice in a cot in my cabin; much better to-day though. Went on board Cornwallis; put up with Admiral. Rain all day. Did plenty of ship’s business.

Up early, and went to breakfast with my old friend and chum, Watson. Dido has eighty on sick-list, but improving.

Childers arrived to relieve us. Received on board invalids for Calliope. Got under way, and anchored near Endymion.

In working down with a fresh breeze on port tack, an eddy tide caught my Dido on the weather bow, stronger than the effect of the lee helm, and the figure-head was well in a pâdi-field before the backed sails could have effect.

What was to be done? We had ninety-seven on the sick-list. Made signal to Endymion, working down near the opposite shore. Of course, she was “charged with despatches.” I was not sorry at the reply. When I get into a scrape I like to get out of it without help. It reminds me of the old couplet:

We had nothing else to do after sails were furled but to lay out stream and kedge anchors, seize two of the largest junks, chuck what they might have overboard, and commence lightening. With my sickly crew it was heavy work.

The weather was fine, but it was not until the following afternoon, and the last gun out, that the cables laid out began to slacken.

The same evening we were dropping quietly down with the current, looking beautiful as ever, and I much pleased with my new First Lieutenant.

Our stick in pâdi-fields did not improve my health nor the Master’s nerves. We drifted quietly down in company with Belleisle into Woosung Roads. Tides ran strong and irregular; influenced by winds and heavy rains.

98th Regiment still sickly. We found North Star, 28, with her stout and good-tempered captain, Sir Everard Home. I was more pleased still to find my young friend, Henry Seymour, in command of one of Symonds’ beautiful brigs, the Wanderer, 16.

We had not met since he left me in the Childers, Mediterranean. His larder better furnished, and, far from well myself, I was glad to have a quiet and early dinner with him. A storm brewing, got away early, and none too soon. Home dined with the hospitable 98th.

It was blowing and raining, with a slashing ebb-tide, when at 9 P.M. there were loud calls ahead for a rope. Home had missed his North Star, and would have drifted past us to, nobody knows where.

But my “Didos” were equal to the occasion. North Star’s long painter was secured to us, but the bowman could not haul the boat up to the gangway.

When Home rushed forward to assist, his extra weight caused the boat to dip and capsize. Our men were on the alert; no lives were lost, but the Captain would not allow himself to be hauled on board until he was assured that every man of his crew was safe.

We got him down to my cabin, and rigged him out in seaman’s blue flannel frock and trousers, and a stiffish glass of grog before he laid himself on a sofa to rest. He begged to be called at slack-water, that he might return on board his own ship.

I gave directions accordingly.

Mr. D’Aeth, of an old Kentish family, was officer of the watch, and at midnight came down to tell Sir Everard it was slack-water, but raining hard.

It was some time before the gallant captain could be awoke, and longer still before he could understand where he was. I was awake, laughing at the conversation.

At last Sir Everard called out, “Where am I? Who are you? What’s your name?”

He got an answer:

“My name is D’Aeth. It is twelve o’clock—slack-water. You are on board Dido, in the Captain’s cabin.”

Home then roared out:

“Captain Keppel, they are playing tricks. A man comes dripping, as if from the sea, with a lanthorn in his hand, saying his name is Death.”

It was some minutes before I could persuade my friend that it was blowing and pouring with rain, and that he had better go to sleep again.