
She was not, by strict measure, a ship of the line ... for her guns were too light and too few. HMS Seahorse was a barquentine rig, classed as a twenty-four gunner. The Seahorse arrived in the Royal Dockyard at Portsmouth on 27th October, 1760, just in time to receive word of King George's death, in a sudden fit of syncope, two days before. On hearing this, the master gunner at once asked the date of the new king's birth-day. In the Royal Navy, it is an old lurk--going back to Queen Anne's time--for the master gunner of each ship to conspire with his store-keeper of ordnance every year, straight after the monarch's birth-day. They vouch a warrant to the Ordnance Board for a new supply of gunpowder ... claiming falsely to have fired off all the guns in a birth-day salute to "his most excellent majesty". The stores obtained by this stratagem are then pilfered and sold, and the gun-money is translated into booze.
Yet the Seahorse's guns were now strangely subtracted. No sooner had she berthed at Portsmouth, than four of her sturdy nine-pounders were unshipped from the gun deck and trundled ashore by a guard of marines, without ever so much as a thank-ye. The Seahorse's lieutenant-at-arms told his quarter gunners that these cannon had been removed by agents of the Lord High Admiral's office, under warrant from Trinity House, so as to make room aboard ship for "the gentlemen's bundles, y'see."
Why had the Seahorse been ordered to Portsmouth of a sudden? Captain Thomas Smith told his senior officers that their destination was a secret, to be kept mumchance until the ship was under sail in the British Channel. Meanwhiles, the ship must be refitted, armoured, provisioned and victualled for the voyage ahead.
The sea holds its secrets, yet sailors have means to discover them. In November, all the hull of the Seahorse received a fresh application of brimstone, tallow, and tar. This was a clue that the Seahorse was bound for tropical waters. The sulphurous coating would protect the Seahorse's oaken hull from the gnawing of shipworms that dwelt in warm-watered latitudes.
Then "the gentlemen's bundles" arrived. Hogsheads and puncheons with unknown contents were taken belowdecks, to be stowed in the traditional chine-and-bulge arrangement which enabled the stacking of the most barrels into the least space.
Still more mysterious were the packing-cases that were shipped aboard under armed guard in late December whilst the crew were busy with a winging-out: this was the long ritual in which the heaviest objects in the ship's holds were moved from amidships to the wales, to make the ship steadier in the water, while the lighter pieces of freight were rummaged farther inboard. The able men and ordinaries were kept so busied with this task, none had chance to examine the packing-cases before these were whisked belowdecks and stowed inside the padlocked hold that was usually reserved for spirituous liquors. The master-at-arms stationed two sentinels to guard the locked hold. When several curious jackies wondered aloud about the contents of this locker, the captain's clerk sent them away with a never-ye-mind.