The Naval Review.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VII, Issue 2, 1 November 1902, Page 122

The Naval Review.

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Photos by Lieutenant Sydney Rotch, B.N.

£3pf£T ten o'clock precisely on fJpP Saturday morning, the 16th Wxwfi day °f August, 1902, we, £M\ the privileged holders of "^^ tickets for the Royal Sovereign, were conveyed from the gunwharf at Portsmouth in a man-of-war's trim launch to the flagship.

It took us the best part of half-an-hour to reach our destination — half-an-hour of the keenest enjoyment as we cut our way through the sparkling waters of the bluegreen Solent, steering a perilous course amongst crafts of all shapes and sizes, gay with bunting, and crowded with humanity. The sun shone, a fair breeze blew, the weather was ideal, neither too hot nor too cold ; everybody looked happy and expectant, and all wore holiday attire.

On all sides of us were ships' launches ; the seats covered with flags, and many with long boats in tow, and everyone carried her full complement of guests to their several destinations on board the men-of-war.

In every direction, east, west, north and south, were white-

winged yachts and pleasure steamers and fishing boats. In short, the Solent was crowded as any city thoroughfare.

It was the gladness, the life, and light, and colour that impressed me at this stage ; later on I realized the sterner side of the spectacle.

Nine British admirals flew their special flags at Spithead that summer's morning : — Admiral Sir Charles Hotham, Commander-in-Chief at the Review, on board the Royal Sovereign ; Vice-Admiral Sir Arthur Wilson, V.C, Senior Officer, in command of the Channel Squadron, in the Majestic ; Rear- Admiral the Honorable Assheton CurzonHowe, second in command of the Channel Squadron, in the Magnificent ; Vice-Admiral Sir Gerald Noel, commanding the Home Squadron, in the Revenge ; Rear-Ad-miral Willis, second in command of the Home Squadron, in the Resolution ; Rear- Admiral E. E. Jeffries, in command of the Irish Station, in tne Empress of India, and Vice-Admiral Sir Frederick Bedford, in the Crescent.

Lord Scott, the Commander-in-Chief at Devonport, had his flag flying from the Vivid, and ViceAdmiral Markham flew his from the Wildfire. In addition to these, Commodore Wilson, as Commander of the Squadron which escorted the Prince and Princess of Wales round the Empire, flew his broad pennant on the St. George at the head of the Cruiser Squadron ; Rear-Admiral C. Mirabello flew his flag on the Italian-armoured cruiser Carlo Alberto, and last, but not least, Rear-Admiral Ijuin flew his flag on

the Japanese-armoured cruiser Asamo. A special interest attaches to this because the two Japanese gunboats represented the warships of our only allies, and are the latest additions to the Japanese Navy.

From the deck of the Royal Sovereign I let my eye range atwill up and down those four rows of battleships, each row four miles long, sixteen miles in all ; a dread but magnificent spectacle. One and all they rode at anchor, and each was dressed, rainbow fashion, in

honour of the event — flags stretching from the extreme end of the vessel across the tops of the masts, and then down to the water's edge. We lay mid-way in the anchorage, on one side of us the Edinburgh, on the other the Nile. Not far from us, in line (D) my attention was attracted to the Endymion. She was flying a long serpentine with a golden bladder attached from the mast-head. The effect was more curious than beautiful, but it drew all eyes to her. Far away on line (C), almost indiscernible in the dim and misty

distance, was that old-fashioned corvette, the Calliope. An officer at my side indicated her position, saying as he did so, " She was the only survivor in the hurricane in

Samoa some years ago." His words conjured up a picture of the Adler as I saw her not six months since, impaled on the merciless coral, the harbour lights of Apia gleaming through her bare ribs. It was thanks to British skill, pluck, and seamanship that the Calliope was spared a like fate. " And there is the Endymion,"

went on my companion, " that one with the golden bladder ; looks foolish, doesn't it ; called after a foolish sort of chap, too, when you come to think of it. Well, she's one of the smartest warships on the line. And if you will turn round and look astern you will see the Camperdown ; remember all about her, of course you do ; it was she who rammed the Victoria. I was on a ship near, and, by Jove, it was an awful sight ! And that's her sister, the Sans Pareil. Those

white-banded funnels belong to the Japanese men-of-war, and those four others in line E are Italian and Portuguese vessels."

At this juncture my friendly exponent was called away, and I was left to my own reflections. A sense of expectation brooded over those huge, motionless battleships. All of them concentrated here for the same purpose, and yet each one in itself an individual centre of life and competition. " So small an island ; so vast her

defences," such was my unspoken comment as I gazed upon that mighty imperial fleet, and knew it only represented the fleet of the Home seas, one-third of the naval resources of Great Britain. Forty-eight miles of available battleships instead of sixteen. Think of it, oh ! ye gods and little fishes ! Forty-eight miles of shipping, and all the property of King Edward VII. Far away over the foam- flecked face of the blue waters his yacht

loomed more like a liner than a pleasure craft. She was preceded by the Irene, the Trinity yacht, living the Trinity flag at the masthead and the blue ensign astern, and His Majesty's yacht the trig Alberta. This vessel, it will be remembered, brought the remains of the late Queen Victoria from the Isle of Wight to Portsmouth. The Royal yacht was followed by the Admiralty yacht Enchantress, the graceful butterfly-like Osborne, and the elegant Fire Queen. The King

had been timed to leave the anchorage at Cowes at two o'clock, and he must have started punctually, for at twenty-five minutes past two the signal was given to man ship. In the twinkling of an eye the sides of the one hundred men-of-war at Spithead were lined with bluejackets. There they stood, rigid as statues, each with his hand overlapping the hand of his fellow on either side, each with arms outstretched, a living, motionless, interlinked line of humanity, and all with eyes turned seawards. On the quarter-deck the officers, dressed in

full uniform, a miracle of cocked hats and gold trappings, stood, drawn up in one long line, and behind them was the band.

We visitors were allowed the unusual privilege of being, on the after shelter deck ; this was also outlined with bluejackets, and just on the upper bridge above us were the marines — a brilliant cluster of red adding a delightful touch of colour to the scene.

Exactly at half-past two the Royal yacht came into view, and then it was that the Hoyal Sove-

reign fired the first gun of the royal salute.

At the second round the whole fleet took up the cue, and proceeded to belch forth smoke and flame over the sunlit Solent.

The vibrations were absolutely thrilling. They set every nerve in my body tingling, not with fear (although that was the first sensation), but with a strange sense of exultation. Shall I ever forget that tense moment between the order " Fire " and the report ? Shall I {ever forget those massive, earsplitting detonations, not from our

ship only, but from one after the other of those around us. The National Anthem followed hard on the heels of the roya! salute, and three ringing cheers, given with true naval precision, made a suitable chorus. And all this while the sun. shone, and sea and sky were a vivid ultramarine blue. " Queen's weather ; King's weather ; may it always be the same," said one bluejacket to another. We ladies were hidden well out of sight behind the sailors, but be-

tween those sturdy, outstretched arms there was abundant loophole for seeing, and we made the most of our opportunities. lam told that in some of the ships, notably the Majestic, the ladies were too much in evidence, " hanging over the stern galleries like creepers over a window-box," said an officer to me. The King, observing this, signalled a rebuke which cleared the stern galleries, and let us hope taught the sex that there are occasions when their presence, however charming, is not required.

We of the Royal Sovereign had no such opportunity accorded us ; on the contrary, we were often reminded that this was in no sense a lady's day, and that we were to keep well in the background. Heading east the Victoria and Albert advanced majestically between lines C and D, then turning she steamed between E and F, turning again she passed between D and E, and then for the last time westward between F and C. Up and down those great lines of

ships steamed the royal yacht, passing every ship in succession and ours three times, each event being the signal for manning the decks and playing the National Anthem. When the royal inspection was at last ended, the Victoria and Albert anchored in her allotted berth alongside the flagship. Alongside, I say, but in reality she was anchored exactly two cable lengths from the Royal Sovereign, a distance, roughly speaking, of a-quar-ter of a mile, and only through opera-glasses could one do more

than make out the outlines of the royalties on board.

With the help of a powerful telescope I got a splendid view of the King. He looked remarkably well, although much thinner. He wore the dark blue uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet, and the picturesque cocked and gold-laced hat. The broad blue sash of the garter showed up well, and gave a pretty and effective touch of colour.

The Queen was all in white, and looked pensively, sweetly beautiful as ever. She was too far off for

me to identify that sad, sweet, somewhat stereotyped, smile so familiar to all who know her. I am told that the Sea King's daughter loves the sea, that, the spirit of the Vikings is quick within her, making her worthy of the best traditions of her race.

Ever thoughtful for others, the King had long ere this sent a prompt signal to the nimble sailor lads, who had manned all the perilous yards and masts of the picturesque sailing ships to relieve

them from their trying position. Small wonder that they cheered him to the echo as he passed. I am desperately, deplorably ignorant on all matters pertaining to the Navy, and I had deluded myself with the belief that all the warships would manoeuvre round the yacht, instead of her manoeuvring around us. I ventured to express my disappointment.

" Had we done so," said the first lieutenant, to whom I addressed my complaint, " you would not be

here ; we do not have guests on board when we are in action." I stood rebuked, but 1 sighed the sigh of disillusion.

Certain contrasts struck me. I have spoken of the smallness of our island and the vastness of her defence — that was the first and, perhaps, the most remarkable one ; secondly, the contrast between the up-to-date man-of-war and the man-of-war of a few years ago, between the Defence, for instance, and the strange old Devastation, lying so

low in the water and carrying her foot-thick ancient armour. Then there was the contrast of size — the huge, diabolical-looking destroyer, Havock, so expressive of her name, only asking the opportunity to prove herself worthy of it, and the little training brig Sea Flower, with her yards squared and her miniature guns trying to assume a brave show at her broad side.

Again, the contrast between; the dressing and the warships, the gay

bunting and the stern, grim outlines of the vessels adorned. As if a great strong man should hang himself round with trinkets and coloured ribbons.

For there is something essentially utilitarian and uncompromising about the outlines of a man-of-war. She is designed for use, but not for ornament. Rigid are her outlines, order and cleanliness and the perfection of finish are her essential characteristics, but for beauty and for grace commend me to the oldfashioned sailing vessel.

I was not even impressed by the beauty of the royal yacht Albert. .1 was assured her lines were perfect. She carried three flags, the Admiralty flag at the fore, the Royal Standard at the main, and the White Ensign on the staff. Round the King stood a group of three or four admirals, and there were officers in military uniform as well. .Possibly Lords Roberts and Kitchener, I said to myself, and tried vainly to distinguish their Vol. VII.— No. 2.-9.

faces. Either they were turned from me or too far away for recognition. With the anchoring of the Victoria and Albert the proceedings terminated. The Royal Sovereign fired a single gun, and that solitary report struck the death -knell of the Naval Review. The inspection was practically over, and it only remained for the guests on board the several ships to have their tea and to depart.

Once more the ships' launches and the long boats were set in motion and once more the face of the Solent was alive with returning sight-seers.

That evening about nine o'clock a few friends and I sallied forth from our hotel to see the illuminations. The night was pitch dark, and a moaning wind that came and went in fitful gusts, driving clouds of dust in our faces, warned us of the approach of rain. As we

neared the common the force of the wind became terrific, then for one brief moment the inky blackness was scribbled across by one vivid flash of forked lightning. It was followed up by an appalling crash of thunder, which literally seemed to burst over our heads. With the thunder came the rain, such a downpour as I. have never witnessed, save in the Tropics. For over two hours we sheltered in a porch and saw those huge

battleships outlined in pure white light, so vivid, so intense that, spite of the obscuring rain, we could distinguish every flag on

every mast-head. Now I. was reminded of so many aerial Tower Bridges and anon of a dream city of fairy palaces.

The illumination of the ships was followed by a display of coloured search-lights, and here the untimely rain, instead of spoiling,

only enhanced the beauty, by adding the magic touch of prismatic effect. The- sea was spanned in every direction by rainbows of a gorgeousness indescribable, and the whole culminated in a mysterious canopy of rays of search-light, red, blue, and green, which converging immediately above the royal yacht, formed a vast Gothic roof of colour, absolutely transparent, weirdly, strangely beautiful. Suddenly the mast-head of the

Royal Sovereign flashed a signal, and the other three flagships — the Revenge, the Majestic and the Invincible flashed a reply. A minute later and a gun was fired from the Royal Sovereign, then another, and then the whole of that vast fleet took up the challenge and gave utterance to one magnificent, thunderous salute. The roar and the crash of the detonations reverberated down the long

rain-swept lines of ships until it •died away in the blackness and all was still. The curtain was finally rung down upon the pageant, nothing remained but to return to one's hotel and go to bed.

The fleet of the Home seas had deserved the royal message, passed along from ship to ship, which ran as follows :

" The King has waited until the return of the admirals and captains to their respective ships to express to the whole Fleet what he has already expressed to the admirals and captains on board the royal yacht, namely, his entire satisfaction with the appearance of the ships and ships' companies in the Review to-day."