Home Life

Embarked on board Dream, George Bentinck, in time for dinner. At about 9 P.M. a fruit trading steamer, weather fine, water smooth, moon shining bright, ran into two yachts: Ione, Captain R. Quin, R.N., and Intrepid, Count F. du Monceaux, carrying away their bowsprits, damaging bows and knocking two men overboard. Ione was to have joined us on a cruise.

10 A.M.—Got under weigh: light breeze from eastward. Cook, the same artist Whichcote had in Enchantress. Dream substantially built and very comfortable; yawl rigged. Made fast to a buoy in Portland Harbour. St. George lying here, commanded by old shipmate E. Rice. Laid out trammel for red mullet, which are generally plentiful and good here, but caught whiting pont only.

After breakfast landed with Bentinck. Convicts at work; got some fair specimens of ammonite and fossil shells. Accompanied Rice on board St. George; guns, stores on board, ready for service, to be manned from coastguard.

Bentinck read prayers to a well-conducted and attentive crew.

Visited works on the heights by convicts. When the fortifications are finished, where will the men come from to garrison them? Saw the fossil trees; some stumps erect, and others buried in the solid stone.

My May’s birthday—promising little yearling.

Visited Consul Hammond on the hill, from whose garden the view is very fine. Consul has two charming daughters. He came on board to dine.

Slipped from the buoy. Sent a boat in for grub, standing off and on. Made fast to a buoy under breakwater.

Weather tide, nasty swell; felt too sea-sick to turn out before 2 P.M., when we got into Portland Roads. Took leave of kind host in time for mutton chops, wife dining with the Dean.

Forenoon church. Wife and I received Holy Sacrament, administered by the Dean, perhaps last time.

Visit from Rev. Charles Kingsley, the author, who stopped to dine with Dean, where we were.

Forenoon church. Dear old Dean still reading, or rather repeating by heart, the prayers as far as the Litany, in which he included the Collect for the day—Trinity Sunday.

Telegraph from friend, Page C.E. Off to London; knowing how much I wanted a job, he informed me of his having undertaken to raise a large ironship, the London, lying at the bottom of the Tay, below Dundee, and offered me the job of navigating her into dock, or some place where she could be got at for repair.

Was invited by the Committee to fill the chair at R.N. Club dinner to celebrate the anniversary of Howes’s victory, anniversary also of action between Shannon and Chesapeake. Poor little Fatshan forgotten!

While sitting on bridge over the Itchen in garden, observed a tomtit’s nest in the muzzle of a gun captured on 1st of June in Fatshan Creek—curious the uses to which a gun may be put.

By train to Dundee. Wife and I in possession of apartments at the Royal Hotel, where we expected to find Mr. Page.

Found Mr. Secretary Cooper; no further difficulties. Visited wreck near low water with working party. The London belonged to the London and Dundee Steam Company; in December last came in collision with a steam trader, Harvest Queen; both vessels went down. Harvest Queen got up, but being grounded on a bank, broke her back. Mr. Cooper, Secretary to the Company, very civil and obliging. Mr. Low, one of the Directors, also very civil. Page not arrived.

Visited the London in a steam tug. Two divers, under management of Mr. Gorman, Admiralty man. There is an ugly fracture on the starboard side, about fifteen feet to nothing, about three feet from the bottom iron, jagged on both sides, the fore side of fracture bent inward, on after side, outwards, supposed to be done at the time the Harvest Queen separated by backing astern. Proposed to cover the hatchway on main deck with coverings secured. Divers report that seals have taken up their quarters in the state-rooms, and haddocks swim freely in the ’tween decks.

Change of Ministry—Lord Derby, Prime Minister; Sir John Pakington, First Lord; Vice-Admiral Sir Alexander Milne, First Sea. This does not break my heart.

Saturday, a drunken day amongst workmen in Scotland, or the London might, I think, have been lifted. 2 A.M. Sunday morning before we got back.

Raising the London proved a failure, and after spending two months in Dundee, where wife and self were hospitably entertained by friends, we returned to Bishopstoke at the end of August, Colin and May having benefited by the bracing Scotch air.