JOINED BY HIS FAMILY.—SLOW RECOVERY FROM HIS WOUND.—FRESH
TRIALS FROM THE FAILURE OF HIS AGENTS, AND ACTIONS THREATENED
BY NEUTRALS DETAINED.—FRIENDLY INTERFERENCE OF MR.
ABBOTT.—APPLIES TO THE ADMIRALTY FOR EMPLOYMENT, AND APPOINTED
TO THE STIRLING CASTLE. 1812.—COMPELLED BY THE STATE OF HIS
WOUND TO RESIGN THE COMMAND.—MADE BARONET.—APPOINTED NAVAL
COMMISSIONER AT MINORCA.—RESIDENCE THERE.—FAILURE OF LADY
BRENTON’S HEALTH.—THE ESTABLISHMENT AT MINORCA BROKEN UP ON THE
CONCLUSION OF THE WAR.—RETURN TO ENGLAND, AND APPOINTMENT TO
THE DORSET YACHT.—MADE NAVAL COMMISSIONER AT THE CAPE.
“The manner in which the intelligence of my being wounded reached your
beloved mother was peculiarly trying to her affectionate heart. That
excellent and amiable character, the Earl of Dartmouth, then Lord
Lewisham, was at Malta when I was landed there. He paid me frequent
visits; and particularly on the eve of his departure for England, that
he might carry the latest intelligence respecting me. Upon his arrival,
he hastened to Bath, that he might be himself the bearer of what he
considered the most favourable accounts. He accordingly called upon your
dear mother, and concluding that she must long have been in possession
of the news of the action, proceeded to tell her that my wound was
doing well. This was the first intimation she had received of the event,
and it was too much for her agitated feelings. She fainted, and Lord
Lewisham was in the greatest distress, at having been the innocent cause
of her suffering. Her peculiar strength of mind however soon enabled
her to depend upon that power for support which had never deserted her.
Lord Lewisham knowing I had written by the same ship in which he had
been a passenger, flew to the post office, and did not quit it, till
the expected letter was put into his hands, and ran with the utmost
eagerness to deliver it. I had taken the precaution of sending home a
minute surgical description of the wound, which being shewn to a medical
friend at Bath, he pronounced to my dear suffering companion that the
wound was not a dangerous one. This tranquillized her, and enabled her to
look forward with hope to the period of our meeting. At the latter end
of the month my letter from Gibraltar arrived with further encouraging
accounts. Your mother with her three darlings flew to Portsmouth, and
extraordinary as it may appear, almost at the same moment that she
alighted at the inn, I anchored at the Motherbank. As she travelled from
Southampton to Portsmouth, the Spartan was running through the Needles,
and must have been an attractive object to the dear travellers, who
little thought we were so near each other. It is customary for ships from
the Mediterranean to be kept in quarantine till the return of the post,
which communicates their arrival; but the Lords of the Admiralty in kind
consideration of my state, ordered the ship to be released by telegraph,
and I landed the following morning, experiencing in the meeting with all
I held dearest to me in the world, sensations of delight which amply
repaid me for all the sufferings and fatigue, both of body and mind, to
which I had been exposed since my separation from them. It is scarcely
possible for me to look back upon this period, which was one of pure, and
almost unmixed felicity. Of pain I was no longer sensible, acute as it
had been during the passage. My sufferings had indeed been so great till
this period, that the latter hours of the day were passed in looking at
the movements of my watch, impatiently waiting for the appointed hour,
when I was to receive my accustomed dose of laudanum, from which I could
expect a temporary suspension of pain. Now I no longer required laudanum;
my spirits were composed and happy, and although incapable of moving, I
was insensible of confinement. Fearful of agitating me too much in my
weak state, your mother had come into my room alone, but she was soon
followed by my sweet cherubs, full of health and joy. We had the comfort
of procuring the same house at Alverstoke, near Haslar hospital, where
we had formerly lived; and happy as those early days of our marriage had
been, they were not so much so, as the time which we now passed there;
although I was so weak as to be confined to my bed, or my chair, walking
a few steps occasionally with my crutches. Whenever I look back upon the
past events of my life, this period always starts forward as pre-eminent
in happiness. My mind was entirely free from care; all was peace, and
I hope gratitude. I had received the most flattering testimonies of
the approbation of the Admiralty, particularly in that most delightful
instance of it, the appointment of my brother to succeed me in the
command of the Spartan. The joy and affection which beamed from the eyes
of my beloved Isabella, during her unremitting attendance upon me, would
in itself have been a source of the most perfect happiness. She felt,
as she has since informed me, the deepest anxiety from my dangerous
situation, but she never allowed me to perceive it. To her tenderness and
care, under the blessing of Providence, I owe my recovery. Her society
had before changed captivity into happiness; she now dispelled all the
weariness attendant upon languor and confinement.”[18]
Captain Brenton remained with his family at Alverstoke till the beginning
of October, when having gained sufficient strength to be moved, he
proceeded to London, which he reached in two days. He received from the
Admiralty an assurance of His Majesty’s approbation of his conduct,
and a promise that in due time his name should be added to the list of
Baronets; in the mean time a pension was granted him of £300 per annum,
his wound being considered by the members of the college of physicians
equivalent to the loss of a limb. This proved a very welcome addition
to his income, and he considered it a most providential circumstance;
for he had been but a few months in England, when he was informed by
his agents that they had failed, with all the prize money belonging to
the Spartan in their hands. This circumstance was the more unexpected,
and the more inexcusable, as Captain Brenton had given them positive
orders, when the proceeds of neutral vessels were remitted to them from
abroad, to cause the money to be immediately funded, in order to await
the result of any appeal that might be made, but this was not done. As
misfortunes are said seldom to come alone, so it was on this occasion.
The Spartan had taken two American ships in 1807, bound from Sicily to
Copenhagen, laden with sulphur; but captured, actually running into
Marseilles; and one of the Captains confessed that the destination in
the papers was a false one. Captain Brenton under these circumstances,
and from a conviction that the sulphur was intended to make gunpowder
for the fleet at Toulon, did not hesitate to send them for adjudication
to Malta; where they were condemned as the most flagrant breaches of
neutrality that had ever come before that court. The proceeds were
accordingly remitted, with the positive injunction before mentioned; but
being retained by the agents, were involved in their bankruptcy, and by
the same post, which informed him of the failure of his agents, Captain
Brenton received information, that the appeal for these ships having at
length come on, the sentence was reversed, and that he was called upon to
pay the amount, a sum of £3000. This was indeed a heavy blow, and one for
which he was not prepared either in mind or purse. He says, “the failure
of my agents was the more unexpected, as upon my arrival in England,
the agents had immediately written to say, that they had a considerable
sum of prize money in their hands; and actually did pay a share a short
time before their failure, which took place in the spring of the year
1811. With respect to the result of the appeal, this was a matter of
still greater astonishment to me, considering the nature of the cases,
the acknowledgment of the American masters, and the opinion given by
the judge who tried the vessels at Malta. But the Admiralty Court is a
political one, and is often governed by expediency, as well as maritime
law and usages.”
Government was at this time very anxious to ward off a war with America,
and in order to conciliate that jealous power as far as possible, many
of the sentences of condemnation, even in the strongest cases were set
aside, and the vessels returned, to the great injury of the captors; who
were as much bound by duty to capture these vessels, as they were to take
those of the enemy. It may well be supposed that this severe blow did not
tend to accelerate Captain Brenton’s recovery. He was at once obliged to
give up his comfortable house at Bath; to sell off his furniture, and to
remove to the vicinity of London; not only for the purposes of economy,
but to attend to the intricate and perplexing business arising from the
bankruptcy. The following are his remarks upon this period, in his notes
to his children.
“This was one of those events which are peculiarly trying, but are often
most salutary in awakening us from a state of dangerous security and
worldly mindedness; and which also shew in its true light the value
of attachments founded upon virtue, and the inestimable blessing of
a mutual, cordial, and sincere affection, enabling us to support the
pressure of misfortune. By the failure of my agents, the whole of the
little property I had collected during the war, was swept away; and I
was, in addition, called upon to refund £3000 for the American sulphur
vessels. I now consider these two seeming misfortunes coming together,
a most providential circumstance; as it enabled me to meet all my
difficulties at once, and with the blessing of God to subdue them. The
distress in which we were involved was great, but a kind Providence
supported us under it. Could you have been sensible of the conduct of
your beloved mother upon this occasion, you would have pronounced her
an angel indeed. She suffered it is true, but not on her own account,
or from any undue anxiety on yours; for she depended upon a bountiful
Creator supplying all your wants, as he had ever done. Her affliction was
on my account. She knew how deeply I felt the loss of all I had to depend
upon for the support of my darling family, particularly at a period
when I was precluded from active exertion, by the effects of my wound;
and the almost hopeless prospect of my being able to procure so large a
sum as that which was demanded of me. But here my dear children let us
pause, and view with gratitude, with fervent and sincere gratitude, the
dispensations of a benign Providence in our favour. A few weeks before
the event, His Majesty had been pleased to bestow upon me a pension
of £300 per annum, in consequence of my wound; this, with my pay, now
became our support; and a most kind friend (Mr. Henry Abbott) generously
stepped forward, and supplied the sum necessary to pay off the claims
of the neutrals; taking his chance of remuneration from the produce of
the bankrupts’ estates. I hope through life you will preserve a grateful
recollection of this friendship. Even here (in a small lodging at
Paddington) we passed a cheerful and tranquil season. It was the piety,
and resignation, and sweetness, that beamed from your dear mother’s
expressive features, which, under the blessing of heaven, shed this
felicity over our little society; and rendered this period of trial one
of those, that in the retrospect of my life presents itself also as a
period of peculiar happiness.
“In the course of the year my wound began to make a visible progress
towards recovery, under the kind and skilful care of Mr. Cline. During
the period of our stay at Paddington, we had indeed much to be grateful
for. My mother’s health which had been very precarious, appeared
entirely re-established, and she evidently derived much happiness from
our being so near her. Your uncle Edward arrived at Portsmouth in June
in the Spartan, and I could not resist the inclination to visit my old
shipmates. I was accompanied of course by your mother; our reception was
not only gratifying but affecting; to the expressions of attachment from
the officers and ship’s company, was added the affectionate kindness
of your dear uncle. He caused the colours to be hoisted under which we
had fought on the 3rd May, and by every possible arrangement studied to
gratify my feelings. This little narrative is intended for you alone my
dear children, and you can appreciate my reasons for writing it. Your
dear uncle requires no additional claim to your affection, but I know
this trait of his character will delight you.”
Soon after this visit to Portsmouth, Jervis, the eldest son, was attacked
by scarlet fever; his recovery occasioned the following reflections
recorded by his father. “A kind and merciful Providence soon restored
your dear brother to health. These trials which so frequently occur in
the course of even the most prosperous life, ought to teach us to repose
more upon God, and to indulge less in anxiety, which generally results
from a forgetfulness of His divine providence. How often does it happen
that when bereft of hope, and abandoned to despair, a sudden change has
dispelled the gloom, and restored us to happiness; whilst at others, when
we have been indulging in the most flattering prospects, when every thing
seemed to smile around us, when to-morrow promised to be in joy, ‘as this
day, and more abundant;’ a blow from an unexpected quarter comes, and
lays us prostrate. These circumstances and experiences should teach us
temperance in the enjoyment of the blessings of this world, and in the
measure of our attachment to them; should teach us to form no long view
of such short lived felicity; to receive with gratitude that share which
is so abundantly bestowed upon us; and when we are threatened with the
loss of what we consider so essential to our happiness, to consider that
we are in the hands of Him who has our eternal interests in view, and
who knows what is good for us, better than we do ourselves. This is true
philosophy, but what is still more, this is true religion.”
It has been the wish of the Editor to allow the narrative to proceed with
as little interruption as possible from himself, and chiefly in the words
supplied by the subject of the memoir himself. The language made use
of being sometimes that of a report of his own actions, and sometimes a
comment upon them addressed to his children, sometimes drawn up in the
third person, sometimes in the first, has involved a variety of manner
which may probably have given offence to readers; but which it still
seemed desirable to retain, as conveying the words and expressions of
the individual mind, which it is the object of the memoir to present to
public observation. Unwilling to do more than was absolutely necessary,
and being chiefly anxious that the portrait exhibited might be as true
to life as possible, he has risked the consequences of substituting a
broken and disjointed narrative, for one more continuous and regular,
that he might allow his readers to see for themselves and to judge for
themselves, a character which is calculated to be beneficial to all.
Instead of assuming the office of biographer, he has wished that the
subject of the memoir should be made to tell his own story; and he has
chiefly limited his own endeavours to pointing out traits of character
brought to light by the circumstances in which the man was placed, and
which it was desirable that his readers should notice. From time to time
he has ventured to do this, and in gratifying his own feelings by thus
dwelling on the features of a friend whom he never recollects without
admiration, he hopes that he may have been useful in directing the
attention of others to qualities which might have escaped observation,
from the simplicity of mind with which the trials that draw them forth
are related. On this account he must trespass for a moment on the
patience of his readers, and call their attention to the peculiar trial
which awaited Sir Jahleel Brenton at this period of his career.
His character as an officer was now completely established. The prejudice
entertained against him by Lord Collingwood had been overcome, and
converted into confidence and regard. His services in the Mediterranean
had secured the admiration of the navy; and the brilliant valour and
good conduct exhibited in the action off Naples, had placed him on a
pinnacle of glory, which few perhaps can at present appreciate, who do
not remember the enthusiastic spirit of that period of the war, and the
excitement which pervaded every rank of society on the subject of naval
successes.
At that period, and under those circumstances; with the consciousness of
having served his country with a fidelity and earnestness beyond what is
due to any human tie; with the shouts and triumphs of a Mediterranean
population still ringing in his ears, and with a spirit raised above the
excruciating torture of his wound by a sense of the glory he had won;
this intoxicating dream is dissipated by the intelligence of pecuniary
losses, which threaten destitution to his family, and by the notice of a
prosecution on the part of the neutrals, whom he had felt it his duty to
detain; which might have consigned him to a debtor’s prison for the rest
of his days.
Life, if considered as a state of discipline, must be a state of trial.
Character is to be developed by circumstances; and God is to be glorified
by the evidence thus given by his servants of their adoption and renewal.
Under this conviction we acquiesce in the assertion that, “whom the Lord
loveth He chasteneth;” and can see the purpose for which the affliction
is sent in the character which is gradually evolved; but the fulness of
this assurance does not invalidate the severity of the trial, and we must
feel for man while he is in the crucible, though we may be confident as
to the effect that it will finally produce.
I feel it, therefore, due to the character of Sir Jahleel Brenton, to
dwell on this point of his story, because it includes circumstances of
trial which cannot be generally appreciated, and because it involves that
species of trial which has been commonly found the hardest to endure.
Oppression, we are told, maketh a wise man mad. Ingratitude, man’s
ingratitude is continually named as the bitterness of life. The great
men of heathen times are found quitting their country in the decline of
life, disgusted at the treatment they met with; and we cannot wonder if
self-love on one side was dissatisfied with that return, which self-love
expected or self-love offered on the other.
The shock which was inflicted on Sir Jahleel Brenton by this sudden
change of circumstances must have been most severe. To have a triumph
succeeded by poverty; the glory of successful command by the prospect of
a jail; and to feel that his country’s courts crushed him, for having
done what his country’s interests required, and his country’s voice had
commanded; and that thus having risked life and incurred sufferings in
its service, he was now to be made a victim of political expediency,
and to be sacrificed to the jealousy of a hostile state; this was, to
say the least a sharp trial for man to bear, and a trial which few
have borne with so much calmness. In truth if heroism is to be tested
by what a man bears rather than by what a man does, and a very brief
consideration may lead us to adopt this view, we may venture to say
that Sir Jahleel Brenton may be contemplated with more admiration while
reconciling himself to poverty and sufferings, in the testimony of a good
conscience and in submission to the will of God; than while directing the
movements of his frigate through the fleet which enveloped him, while
Murat and his court were watching the defeat of their little armada by
the energies of his single ship.
Let the reader of these pages then dwell most on that which most deserves
consideration. He may learn from the narrative, what vicissitudes of
trial life may include; and he may distrust the exultation inseparable
from moments of success by calling to mind its uncertain tenure, and
the reverse that may be immediately at hand. But above all let him
remember, that he who labours for man, must be prepared to meet with
ingratitude, or at least neglect; and that from the very nature of
society, the sacrifices that are made for the public good can seldom
be properly appreciated, or justly recompensed by the public, for whom
they are performed. A higher principle must be infused into the heart of
him who wishes to serve his country, than was found among the heroes of
antiquity; or self-devotion and patriotism will be doomed to experience
the same melancholy disappointment that they did in their cases. God must
be honoured; his favour, his blessing must be the objects of pursuit; if
man wishes to be certain of obtaining a just recompense of reward; and
sad and bitter will be the result of dangers braved and labours borne,
if the favour of a fickle world has been the object of ambition, and the
only return looked for has been that which men can give.
“A haughty spirit,” it is said, “goeth before a fall.” Had such been
the spirit of Sir Jahleel Brenton, it is easy to imagine how it would
have been inflated and increased by the admiration and excitement
occasioned by his victory; and it is as easy to conceive, that on a mind
in such a state, the sudden shock of adversity would have come with an
overwhelming force. Happily for him, he had long before learned in a
better school than that of the world, the nature of the things by which
he was surrounded. He knew what he was justified in seeking, but he also
knew the limits under which it was to be sought. Thankful for what God
had been pleased to give, he was ready to resign what God was pleased
to recall; and while the hand of God was seen in everything, he saw no
injustice in the treatment he was exposed to, no public ingratitude in
the circumstances which marred his prospects; but only behold another
trial in a change of condition; and blessed God for the consolations with
which that trial was to be accompanied.
The narrative may be resumed from Sir Jahleel’s own notes. He says, “my
wound now continued to make a gradual progress, and at the end of the
year (1811) Mr. Clive considered all exfoliation at an end. I had now
put aside my crutches, and could walk with tolerable facility with two
sticks. I therefore began to look forward once more to active service.
Your dear mother used all the arguments which tenderness and affection
could suggest to dissuade me from it; but the same feeling towards her,
and my beloved children, stimulated me to exertion, and would have
deprived me of my own approbation and peace of mind, had I remained in a
state of inactivity longer than was absolutely necessary. I accordingly
applied for a ship. Mr. Yorke, then first Lord of the Admiralty, in
the most friendly and earnest terms, requested me not to run the risk
of a relapse, by going again to sea; having however persisted in my
application, he appointed me to the Stirling Castle, a new ship of
seventy-four guns, then at Chatham, intended at my own request to be sent
to the Mediterranean. In the middle of March 1812, I took command of this
ship, and removed with my family to Brompton, near Chatham, and here
another period of happiness occurs, which will frequently present itself
to my recollection, unsolicited from the association with my professional
duties. My profession had ever been my delight from the very early period
of my life at which I entered it, and no circumstance, however happy, had
as yet possessed the power to tranquillize my mind on shore, whilst I
considered myself capable of active service.”
As Captain Brenton had reason to suppose that his ship would at least
for some time be attached to the channel fleet, he removed his family
to Plymouth, and took this opportunity of initiating his eldest son
into the profession, which it was at that time supposed he would have
chosen. He says, “As our dear boy had from his infancy expressed a wish
to follow my profession, and had appeared confirmed in the resolution,
upon my return home in the Spartan, your mother and myself considering
the advantages which might attend from his constitution being early
inured to the profession, decided upon his going with me. It was rather
intended at the same time, as giving him an opportunity of judging for
himself, whether under all circumstances, his preference for the navy
might continue, and as I was informed of the appointment of an exemplary
clergyman to the ship, who had been head usher at Hertford school, and
who was to superintend the education of the youngsters on board, we had
less hesitation in taking your brother from the school at which he had
been nearly a year, (Dr. Crombie’s, at Greenwich.) Our kind friend Mr.
Williamson, whom I was again happy in having with me as surgeon, kindly
went for him in a tender, which I sent for the purpose.
“June 6th, we arrived in Cawsand Bay; the weather in the preceding night
had become thick and squally, but we reached our port with great ease by
noon.”
Thursday the 11th, Mrs. Brenton mentions having passed a delightful day
on board the Stirling Castle. Captain Brenton adds, “This was I believe
the last visit your mother ever paid to the Stirling Castle, where from
the sweetness of her disposition, and the kindness of her manner, she had
gained the regard of all on board. On this occasion we were accompanied
by one of my best and earliest friends. Mr. Tucker and myself became
acquainted in the year 1792, when he was purser of the Assistance, and
when I commanded the Trepassey on the Newfoundland station, in the year
1799. He had, after progressive elevation, acquired through his own
conduct and talents, become Secretary to the Earl of St. Vincent, with
whom I had recently served as Lieutenant, and who had promoted me to the
command of the Speedy. Mr. Tucker and myself then renewed our former
intimacy, he had power to shew the strength of his regard, and exerted it
to the utmost. I had little in my power but the expressions of gratitude,
and the feelings of friendship. Whenever an opportunity offered of
forwarding my interests, he never lost sight of it, and proved himself a
most steady friend. It is to his active zeal we are indebted for much of
the comfort our family received after the death of my father. Lord St.
Vincent was under Providence the instrument of their welfare; Mr. Tucker,
the kind and judicious friend, who pointed out the most effectual means
of serving them. Upon all the subsequent trials and events which have
befallen me, he has been invariably the same, always identifying himself
with my interests, and those of all my family; and I feel delighted
in having it in my power to record such instances of disinterested
attachment, as an object for your future gratitude and regard. Lose no
opportunity, my dearest children, in shewing your sense of his kindness
to me, whenever it may be in your power, either towards himself or any of
his family.”[19]
Referring to a memorandum written on the 23rd of September, 1812,
Captain Brenton says, “I had sometime before this period experienced an
attack of inflammation in the wound, but I had now recovered from it,
and it remained in the same state as when I came to sea. As the winter
approached, I felt this inconvenience of being lame more sensibly, as it
increased my anxiety respecting the duty of the ship, from a conviction
that I could not use the same activity I had formerly possessed; and I
began to feel the conviction that some employment on shore, was better
suited to the actual state of my health.
“I thought seriously of endeavouring to gain some appointment on shore.
I had in the Spring been offered the Commissionership of Bombay, but
declined from preference to active service. I therefore wrote to Lord
Melville (then First Lord of the Admiralty,) and told him the state of my
health, requesting to be remembered in the event of a vacancy happening;
this he promised to do, and conceiving I wished immediately to come on
shore, he appointed Captain Brine to succeed me in the Stirling Castle.
Those alone whose minds are ardently devoted to the sea service, can
enter into my feelings after dispatching my letter to Lord Melville. It
appeared to me as soon as it was gone beyond recall, that the sacrifice
was unnecessary, that the pain and inflammation of the wound had ceased,
and that with a little patience I might have weathered the winter, and
have had another summer before me, in which I might have recruited. I
felt my attachment to the ship, and everything connected with active
service increase, as I was on the point of being removed from it. These,
however, were but temporary feelings; the wound soon resumed a very
serious character, and I had no sooner joined my family at Plymouth on
the 26th of October, than I felt I had much reason to rejoice in my
decision. As soon as I was superseded by Captain Brine, I proceeded to my
favourite residence at Bath. Here I had the advantage of one of the most
skilful surgeons, the late Mr. Grant. I had several very severe attacks
of inflammation, attended by exfoliation, which must have rendered it
impossible for me to have remained afloat. I was, however, evidently
regaining my health, and having my mind at ease from the conviction that
I had not willingly relinquished employment afloat.”
Early in November Captain Brenton received an official communication from
the Admiralty, notifying his having been created a Baronet. In the year
1813, Sir Jahleel writes, “It was in this year that my darling Jervis
formed that choice of a profession, to which it was ever our wish he
should be devoted, but which we did not press upon him, lest we should
put a restraint upon his inclinations. He had from his infancy expressed
a wish for the navy, and the preference was natural, and likely to
strengthen with his years. It was therefore encouraged; and I considered
him so decided in his choice, that I should have taken him with me in
the Stirling Castle. Whilst instructing him in the rudiments of astronomy
and navigation, I took every opportunity of associating in his mind the
truths of revealed religion, with the wonders of creation. His mind was
sufficiently enlarged to admit and combine them with facility, even at
this early age; though he had not completed his tenth year, when we
were at sea together. His memory was very retentive, our conversation
frequently turned upon Religion, and the duty of its ministers; and I
endeavoured to describe to him, the character and conduct requisite for
the sacred office, as well as the influence each would have upon the
happiness, not only of this life, but of the next. These delightful
conversations (for such they were to this dear boy, as well as to myself,
for he frequently began them) insensibly gave a change to his ideas, and
induced him to prefer the tranquillity and retirement of a clerical life,
to the more brilliant prospects which the navy might have held out to
him. What a claim for the most fervent gratitude has this circumstance
upon my heart at this moment, and what a source of comfort and
consolation under the loss of such a child. I have now the blessed and
well founded hope, that he is in the enjoyment of everlasting felicity.
“At the close of this year, Lord Melville, who had been long anxious to
serve me, but unable from the want of a vacancy, at last found the means
by the establishment of a resident Commissioner at Minorca. He made me
the offer of the appointment. I accepted it with alacrity, and prepared
for our immediate departure. I was at the time of receiving it, confined
to my bed, by the opening of my wound; but was soon in a situation
to travel, and by the unremitted care and energy of my affectionate
companion, every fatigue and exertion was spared me. We left our
delightful abode at Bath on the 10th January, and embarked on board the
Blenheim for Minorca on the 20th. We had been exposed during the greater
part of our voyage, till we reached Cape St. Vincent, to a continual gale
from the S.W., but at this period the weather was remarkably fine, and
you may easily imagine the interest with which your mother viewed the
theatre of the great action, fought by our noble friend, and the first in
which I had been engaged.
“As we proceeded, every point we passed excited some recollection of
strong interest, but particularly Gibraltar Bay. These feelings I hope
were not unaccompanied, by sincere and ardent gratitude to the Almighty,
for the merciful preservation which I had so often experienced. On the
3rd of February we passed along the coasts of Andalusia and Grenada,
mountains covered with snow, with the town of Malaga below them. Our
voyage was at this period delightful, and had all the appearance of
being a very short one. We were most happily situated with the best
and kindest friend in the Captain of the ship, Captain Samuel Warren,
with every attention and accommodation we could possibly desire, but
a voyage to passengers must ever be tedious. The wind now changed and
blew constantly from the eastward, making our passage longer between
Ivica and Minorca, than from England to Ivica. On the 19th, Majorca
was in view, the weather extremely cold, and the hills covered with
snow. Nothing could be more wretched than the sight which Cabrera
offered to us through our glasses: we could see hundreds of naked and
starving French prisoners, crawling about the rocks, without any other
habitation, than the caverns they found amongst them, and we heard they
were almost without food. When however, the wanton atrocities committed
by the French in Spain are taken into consideration, we cannot wonder
at the conduct of the Spaniards in this instance, however inexcuseable
it may seem. We reached Port Mahon on the 25th of February, and had
some difficulty in procuring lodgings. Many wretched habitations were
offered to us, but we were soon provided with an excellent house, in a
delightful situation, though it afterwards proved damp, from having been
recently built. For some time my health was in an alarming state, whilst
that of my beloved Isabella appeared to be perfectly restored, with the
exception of a little hoarseness, which then gave us no uneasiness, as I
only considered it as the continuation of a cold, caught in England; but
which was disease silently working on the lungs. The climate, although
very changeable, appeared to agree remarkably well with every one of the
family except myself; and my own health experienced a rapid improvement
with the return of the warm weather. We began to enjoy happiness, and to
be reconciled to the Island, forming plans for a long residence on it.
At this time we had the gratification of having the Duchess of Orleans,
mother of Louis Phillippe, as our occasional guest. She was dining with
us on the day that the first report reached Minorca, that the white flag
had been hoisted in France. The news was not credited at first, but I was
convinced in my own mind that it was true, and therefore communicated
it to my royal guest, who was quite overwhelmed with the intelligence.
The following morning I had the pleasure of carrying the confirmation
of this joyful intelligence to the Duchess. This excellent Lady soon
resumed her place at Paris, at the head of a splendid establishment,
and was unremitting in her efforts to testify her gratitude to every
English person who approached her; for the hospitality she acknowledged
to have received from their country. In the course of the month of May
your beloved mother’s cough had increased, and in June she broke a blood
vessel. We were advised to try country air, and M. Mercudel, a Minorquine
gentleman, had the goodness to lend us his house at Bingot, pleasantly
situated on the road to Alegero. The air of this place appeared for
some time to have the most salutary effect; thus the summer passed away
with no other occurrence than my having been brought into intimate
communication and friendship with that best of sea officers, Sir Benjamin
Hallowell, afterwards Carew, who was left in command of the squadron
in the Mediterranean, and who took his station at Minorca, in order to
superintend the disposal of the stores, &c. The peace taking place early
in Autumn, the fleet was ordered home, and consequently there no longer
existed the necessity for a dockyard at Mahon. I was directed to send all
the stores to England, and to return home; Lord Melville in the mean
time having most kindly appointed me to the Dorset Yacht. Your mother’s
health was so precarious, that it became necessary for us to accept the
kind offer of my friend, Captain Bathurst,[20] to take home my family in
the Fame, and to his care I consigned them, under the protection of that
benign Providence which never forsook us. I was unable to accompany them
from the remaining duties I had to perform. They embarked on the 7th of
August. A few days after they had sailed, I left Minorca in the Castor,
for Marseilles, and from thence proceeded to Paris. There I enjoyed the
kind hospitality of the Duchess of Orleans for a few days, returning to
England early in October. Your mother and yourselves had arrived a few
days before me.
“Before I left Minorca I received a second letter from Lord Melville,
informing me of my appointment as Commissioner at the Cape of Good
Hope, the former Commissioner being just dead; an appointment which was
very agreeable to me. On my return to England, I found your dear mother
apparently much recovered, but the fatal cough still continued. This
was the only alloy to my happiness, but still I fondly cherished the
hope that it was in some measure subdued, and that the climate of the
Cape of Good Hope would entirely restore her. How easily can we flatter
ourselves with prospects of happiness. How earnestly do we cling to
remote possibilities for comfort; and most merciful is the dispensation
which affords us this relief. How gloomy and dismal would many parts of
our lives otherwise be. Our dear boys were now of an age when it became
necessary that every effort should be made to give them a substantial
education, and for this purpose we decided upon leaving them at
Winchester, under the care and protection of their uncles. This was the
greatest trial we had to experience; but what must the pang of separation
have been to your mother, who although she concealed as much as possible
her real state from us, must have felt the most serious apprehension,
that she was no more to meet these darling children in this world. With
what exemplary fortitude did she conduct herself under circumstances
so agonizing! On the 1st day of January, 1815, we sailed for the Cape
of Good Hope, on board H.M.S. Niger, commanded by Captain Rainier. We
had much to be grateful for, to our all merciful Protector, for the
comfort we enjoyed throughout this voyage, which ended by our arrival
in Simon’s Bay on the 12th of March. Your mother felt much weakness and
indisposition in crossing the tropical latitudes, owing to the great
heats, but she was nevertheless invariably cheerful, and apparently
happy.”