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this a quart of ‘beverage’ wine had been substituted on the coast of Portugal or in the Mediterranean; but in the West or East Indies brandy, rum, or arrack had taken its place, and the equivalent measure was half a pint. This was served out ‘neat’ a little before noon. In the West Indies new rum was so issued, with the result that there was a very great deal of drunkenness and of crime. On 4 Aug. 1740 Vernon addressed a general order to the captains and surgeons of his squadron, and found it to be their unanimous opinion that ‘the pernicious custom of the seamen drinking their allowance of rum in drams, and often at once, is attended with many fatal effects;’ it impaired their health, ruined their morals, and made them slaves to every brutish passion. It was also the unanimous opinion that the best remedy was to mix the rum with water, and this was accordingly ordered. Rum was to be ‘no more served in species,’ but the daily allowance was to be mixed with water in the proportion of one quart of water to each half-pint of rum, and to be served out at two servings in the day, about eleven in the forenoon and about five in the afternoon. It was perhaps the greatest improvement to discipline and efficiency ever produced by one stroke of the pen, and though, as issued by Vernon, only a station order, was very quickly accepted throughout the service and adopted by the admiralty. The seamen did not altogether approve of the curtailment of their privileges, and called the official mixture ‘grog,’ which is said to have been Vernon's nickname in the squadron—derived, it is said, from his having a grogram boat-cloak. The drink, however, soon became popular, and the name has been hallowed in naval memory by hundreds of traditions. It was only forty years old when Dr. Thomas Trotter [q. v.] described Neptune as ordering his attendant sprites to
Bid Vernon mix a draught for me
To toast his native land;
and continued—
The sacred robe which Vernon wore
Was drenched within the same [the grog tub];
And hence his virtues guard our shore,
And grog derives its name
(Notes and Queries, 1st ser. i. 168).
The large reinforcement of twenty-five ships of the line under Sir Chaloner Ogle arrived at Port Royal on 7 Jan. 1740–1, and with it a force of nine thousand soldiers under Brigadier-general Wentworth, who had succeeded to the command on the death of Major-general Lord Cathcart. Nothing more unfortunate could have happened, for Wentworth had neither ability nor experience, but had an enormous amount of self-conceit. The point of attack was left to Vernon's judgment, and he had already decided to reduce Cartagena, which it was thought could scarcely offer any serious resistance to such a formidable armament as was gathered at Port Royal. But the divided command, the incompetence of Wentworth, and the natural antipathy between the two characters caused delays which proved fatal. It was not till 3 March that the fleet came off Cartagena, and not till the 9th could they decide where to land. Two small forts were then reduced, and in the afternoon the landing began; but as Wentworth could not make up his mind as to what guns or stores he wanted, everything was put on shore, and thus four days were wasted. Vernon urged on the general that, to the army, delay was most dangerous, for the wet season was approaching. Wentworth laid the blame on the engineers. Vernon replied that wilful delay was treachery, and that any engineer guilty of it ought to be tried by court-martial and shot. It was, however, not till the 23rd that the soldiers had their batteries ready for the attack of Fort St. Luis, which defended the left or northern side of the Boca-Chica. San Luis was then reduced in a leisurely way, after which the ships cut the boom that blocked the Boca-Chica, and passed into the harbour. On 1 April Vernon wrote announcing this success, and expressing a hope that the city must soon fall. The people at large took an anticipation for a reality, and struck medals to celebrate the conquest, and sang ballads, such as—
We did so cannonade, and such breaches we made,
And so many of their houses set in a flame,
They did submit to fate and the town surrender
To Admiral Vernon, the scourge of Spain.
They were leaving Wentworth out of the reckoning. The troops did not land till the 5th, and though Vernon urged that even then an immediate assault on San Lazaro—a hill fort which dominated the city—would be successful, and that the surrender of the city must follow as a matter of course, Wentworth refused to attempt it till he had allowed the Spaniards four days more to recover from their panic and strengthen their defences. Contrary, then, to all advice, Wentworth resolved to assault, and, having made no preparations, was beaten off with very great loss. Nothing further was done or could be done. The wet season set in,
