The Prince's passage and Arrival home.
The London Times' correspondent gives a detailed account of the Prince of Wales' passage home from Portland, Me. The line-of-battle-ship, the Hero, which conveyed the heir, is an uncommonly slow craft, and the Ariadne, which accompanied the Hero as consort, was with difficulty kept in her proper place — that is, in the rear, so superior are the latter's sailing powers. The Times' letter, dated Plymouth, November 15, says:‘ For the first two or three days out both the Hero and Ariadne were under steam. The former was at full speed, and the latter at less than half, and having to resort to every nautical artifice to keep her place behind the flagship. Now and then the Ariadne ranged up so close alongside that both parties could converse from their respective quarter-decks by writing out their questions on black-boards, and holding them up. Once, indeed, the Ariadne came so close that both could speak with ease. This experiment, however, was only attempted once, for a heavy swell was running, and the two ships were within a hair's breadth of coming broadside against each other, when the consequences might have been serious — Their yards actually touched, and nothing but the speed of the Ariadne and the indomitable coolness of Capt. Vansittart saved them from actual collision. Even as it was many ran below, thinking that the masts and spars would be about their ears. After this slight escapade open order was kept, except in fogs, when the Ariadne had to follow, almost touching the Prince's vessel. These fogs were as frequent as on the voyage out, and were a source of perpetual anxiety. The Hero used to go ahead, sounding her fog whistle, till the shrill alarm was faint in the distance, and stifled in the thick air. Then the Ariadne would follow, sounding hers, till close upon the flag-ship, when the Hero again took up the scream and went ahead; and in this manner, moving step by step, the nights and days would pass.
’ On Friday, the 26th, the Ariadne took the Hero in tow, and actually dragged her along through a heavy rolling swell at the rate of nine knots an hour. Both vessels were rolling rather heavily, and the hawser kept tightening and vibrating like a harp-string. It went at last with a terrible snap at about 5 A. M., on the 27th. At that time the long-wished-for wind had come at last from the Northwest. The towing, therefore, was not renewed, but both went on under all sail. On Sunday it blew more than half a gale, and hour by hour reef after reef was taken in. About 3 A. M., on Monday, this brief storm was at its worst, and struck down upon both ships in a succession of angry squalls. The squall which the copper colored clouds foretold came on her first with a hoarse, loud roar, as if a mountain was in motion. At once it split both her foresail and her mainsail, and heeled her sharply over.
The Ariadne's turn came next. With a loud premonitory rush of hail, and a dash of sea up over her sides, the wind struck her, as sailors say, "like a hammer." The reefed main topsail split at once. Then the forestay sail went.--With this squall the thickness of the weather increased, till even the dubious, greasy light of the moon was damped out. At last the clouds partially cleared at six o'clock, and then the Hero was nowhere to be seen. After a delay of two hours and more, Captain Vansittart came to the conclusion that the Hero must have run before the gale, and was still ahead. Acting upon this supposition — which proved to be quite correct — all the sail which the Ariadne could safely carry in such a heavy breeze was crowded on, and away she went, tearing through the waves at the rate of more than thirteen knots an hour. All our troubles were forgotten, when, though the gale still blew, the weather cleared and the man at the masthead hailed that the Hero was in sight, about fourteen or sixteen miles ahead.--In less than five hours after first sighting her from the masthead, the Ariadne was alongside once more.
With the night the wind — the only favorable wind we had — died away, and left both ships rolling helplessly to the bidding of the long, smooth swell. Then came calms by day with fogs by night, then more idling and rolling, getting a start of wind for a few hours to raise momentary hopes of still making a fair passage; then again calms, and yet more fogs, till the chances of reaching England under 14 days waxed fainter and more faint with each long day's non-progress. Then the Ariadne would tow again. Yet before the towing had lasted half-an-hour the shackle broke, and left the Hero adrift. A larger shackle was then got up, and with this the Ariadne again set to work and pulled the Hero through the water some 200 miles, making every timber in the ship creak and work awfully under the strain.
After twenty hours of this work the hawser parted on board the Hero, and as there was then a little wind, the towing was not renewed, but both vessels crept on under sail. In this manner, now creeping on for a few hours, with a faint wind, then steaming a little through calms and fogs, the 1st of November found the ships in that part of the ocean called "the beginning of the Chops of the Channel," with the sea like glass, fogs by night with a long fog swell, and a steady easterly wind against us during the day. On this, the 1st of November, we were 600 miles from the Lizard — at noon on Monday, the 5th, we were 430. On the morning of the 14th the wind came decidedly fair — a strong soul-wester, under which, running before the wind, both ships went hissing and rushing through the water at the rate of more than twelve knots an hour.
The run to Plymouth was soon made, and before 10 A. M. the Hero and the Ariadne cast anchor inside the breakwater, the ships in the Sound and in the harbor, and the batteries on shore, saluting the Prince's flag. In a very short time his Royal Highness was ready to land. For the last time the ships manned yards, salutes were fired as the Royal standard came down from the Hero, and, amid cheers from the crews of the Hero and Ariadne, the Prince of Wales quitted the Royal squadron, and his long progress was brought to a close. His Royal Highness landed at the Royal William Victualling-yard, where he was received by the Plymouth Volunteers and a guard of honor of the 12th. At the station, Colonel Lambrick and 100 Royal Marines formed a guard of honor on the platform.
