Born 1785. Died 1791.
_Only Child of Sir Brooke Boothby, Bart._]
My uncle has introduced me to the best society here. We went to a ball
on board the _Victory_ the other day, and the prettiest lady said to
me in very pretty broken English, “Wan I dance wid you, sair, I will
assure you dat I wish we dance de whole long of de sheep”; and when the
two dances were over, she said, “Sair, I tank you; I will assure you
it is de plaisantess dance I dance to-day.” Seeing me smile she added,
“You not belief it. Ah! it is true!” I went simpering up to another
lady and said, “What a very fine day, ma’am, for our party.” She
curtseyed, and uttered from her throat with a smile, “Bakkelseg Morgon
Vakka Thikka Pukk,” and so I simpering replied as if I understood her,
“Yaw, yaw, Pukk,” bowed and went away.
_June 14, 1808._--Agree with Wilmot, Sandham, and Foster to go to
Trollhättan, and on Friday, 17th, at 5 A.M. start in two gigs with
two horses each, arriving at half-past one, after a pleasant journey
of fifty-two miles, stopping an hour on the road. The waterfall fell
below my expectations, although it be terrible to stand close beside
an enormous body of water in motion so rapid; but the view from below
is much less grand and astonishing than I can conceive a cataract to
be, nor do I think my ideas of the tremendous much invigorated or more
defined than they were before, and as a proof that the cataract did not
fill or satisfy the mind, I observed, that on beholding it, I ever cast
my eyes to the lofty precipice on the right, saying to myself, “Oh,
that it came tumbling over that!” The canal was just what I expected,
and a most laudable work.
_June 19._--Start for Ström at four. This road offers to the eye of
the traveller much picturesque beauty. A great part of it lies as if
through a beautiful English park, and from the excellence and trimness
of the road and culture of the verdure you imagine yourself in some
studied approach to a great man’s house, while the beautiful gleams of
the romantic Gotha, seen through the trees, make you exclaim, “Happy he
whose eye is frequent on such a prospect.” The Gotha is an exquisitely
beautiful river: its waves are true silver and azure; its banks are
green, enamelled with flowers, embossed with dwellings, and feathered
with woods; and its stately windings are frequently caught through an
irregular perspective colonnade of the trunks of trees, while their
beautiful foliage embowers you above, and calms and attunes your mind
to the beauties of the farther prospect. Its vessels never overpower
it (I mean as landscape), that is to say, you never think of a crowd
of masts, of coals, of bawlings, of canals, and all the horrors of
navigation.
A graceful sail now and then glides swiftly through the trees, or
dimples the silver surface, the here-and-there cascade having eminent
beauty, deserving of notice; and the cultivated fields enwrapping the
hills.
The skirts of the vast cataracts at Trollhättan, and indeed at Edet,
are applied to the sawing of timber; and in various parts of Sweden the
sledgehammer is raised, the borer driven, and the polisher whirled by
the same perpetual power.
_Thursday, June 30._--Sir John Moore embarked last night. Learn that he
had been a prisoner at Stockholm, and had made his escape. See General
Stewart; learn that the point in dispute between the General and the
King[16] had been the attack upon Norway, which His Majesty had stated
was impossible, but in a subsequent conversation, being reminded of
this statement, he denied it in the most positive terms.
The General said, “Not only I, but Colonel Murray, heard you; but if
your Majesty says you did not say so, I must have misunderstood you.”
The King accuses him of disrespect--in a rage.
Sir John, to pacify, concedes so far as to say he will wait for further
despatches, but on going home and reflecting, finds his instructions
too positive to admit of it, and apprises the King that he must depart
from the country.
The King sends to him in the middle of the night to say that he must
not leave Stockholm without his permission.
The General immediately despatches a messenger to embark every part of
the army, and remonstrates upon the detention. No answer; but the next
day a repetition of prohibition arrives.
Sir John takes a drive in the curricle of the Secretary of Legation
beyond the first stage, where he is taken up in his plain clothes by a
messenger, who, with his courier’s pass, gets along uninterrupted. He
arrived at Gothenburg on Wednesday, 29th June, and pushed off for the
_Victory_. Only the Admiral knew him.
_Saturday, July 2._--The General desires to see Burgoyne and me
immediately, and we go on board the _Victory_.
Sir John Moore informs us that the Admirals, particularly Keats, are
anxious about the little island of Sproe in the Great Belt, upon which
during winter the French might establish themselves, and harbour
gunboats, to the annoyance of the passage in summer.
The French had designed to possess it, and built a barrack on it, and
there is a probability that next winter they may complete their design,
which formerly they began too late.
The Admirals desire to forestall the enemy, and I must go to see if
the nature of the island and our means admit of such a defence being
established before the necessary departure of the Fleet. The British
have destroyed the barrack made by the French, so that barracks,
storehouses, etc., for the troops must be established, as well as
fortifications.
_Sunday, July 3._--Get up at 3 A.M.; pack. At four pilot comes on
board. Fleet gets under way. At seven Admiral sends on board and takes
me away.
Go on board the SUPERB. No instruments, no colours. Apply to be sent
on board the _Victory_ to see Sir John Moore. Sir John comes up
himself to take me to the Admiral’s breakfast. General Stewart brings
instructions; Admiral very civil.
Sail with a convoy of merchantmen and the _Etna_ towards the Belt. The
army leaves for England.
_July 5._--Heavy foggy weather with rain; coast of Jutland in sight.
_July 6._--Came in sight of Sproe. Next morning I go on shore with
surveying implements, half survey it, and next day complete survey.
_Superb_ in sight. As I go on shore in the afternoon, I receive a note
from Admiral Keats to breakfast with him, and come again on board the
_Superb_. Takes me altogether into the cabin. I enlarge my scale of
plan, and prepare it for the field.
_Sunday, July 10._--_Victory_, _Edgar_, and _Cruizer_ in sight,
entering the Belt. Admiral Keats takes me a _divil_ of a row to meet
the _Superb_. Captain Graves dines there, and begs the boys to go
on shore. Joey Easterbrook prefers it to the Admiral’s dinner. Poor
FitzClarence left behind. “It was a cruel thing,” he said. After dinner
ye Admiral, Captain Graves, and myself, go on shore. Boys shoved off
ere our arrival. Admiral snuffs the green air; walk over the ground,
gather wild spinach, return on board. The youngsters were in dismay!
The Captain’s Newfoundland dog Tigress having run down a sheep, which
had taken refuge in the sea, they feared it would be laid to them, but
they had neatly skinned it, and hoped their mess would benefit by it.
Little rascals! The Admiral, from prudential motives, took particular
care that they should not taste it.
Dear little Georges begged the officer on deck to let him put me on
board the _Brunswick_. This began our friendship. He put me on board,
I having agreed with Admiral Keats that, as I should finish with the
island to-morrow, I should again come on board the _Superb_.
_Tuesday, July 12._--This day drew up my report. Ships weigh, and
anchor again.
_July 19._--Desired by Sir James to travel in plain clothes. Make
necessary change. Signal made, “Send Mr. Boothby on board the _Swan_
cutter immediately. Make haste.”[17]
Sit down in the cabin with a party of particular friends. Georges in
the chair, Lord Bury on my right hand, little Johnny Russell over
against me. Boat ready; cutter waiting. Take an affectionate leave of
my friends, Georges, Lord Bury, and Johnny, and part from Admiral Keats
in the kindest manner; indeed, his behaviour and friendly conduct had
quite attached me to him.
When taking leave of the wardroom officers I am entreated below to
wine, steadily refuse, but Captain Jackson being gone with the Admiral,
Mr. Crowe, the first lieutenant, orders me to be carried below, upon
which officers, youngsters, and marines surround me, and spite of
a strenuous resistance, carry me bodily by neck and heels into the
wardroom, where I drink adieu.
Sent on board the _Admiral_ to receive more despatches. Get on board
the cutter; nasty odious little thing. Pass close under the _Superb’s_
stern. All hands crowd the poop, and actively wave me many farewells.
Wind foul; go to bed.
_July 20._--Wind still fouler. Change our tack, and at length conceive
hopes of arriving at Ystad, a pretty-looking town as seen from the
distance; but nothing can be more park-like and beautiful than the
shores of the Great Belt.
Get on shore about 5 P.M. Sailors take up my baggage. Go to the inn.
Mr. Lucas brings Mr. Strom (clerk to an Ystad merchant), who undertakes
my passports, horses, etc. Asking about Swedish travelling, it appears
that robbing or breach of trust are species of dishonesty unknown to
the Swedes. Send my baggage off at ten, start at eleven. No moon, good
horses. As I go along, astonished to see the sea on my right hand. “How
the devil,” said I, “can this be?”
The sea, in or out of sight, must be to the left hand. But still
I saw the sea approaching even to the edge of the road, broken by
beautiful ports, isles, and rocks. “Diable,” said I, “what call you
dat?” pointing to a fine harbour, embossed with islands and romantic
shores. The driver looked, but returned no answer, for he saw nothing
but the white mist arising from the face of the earth. The deception
was complete. A bank on the left of the road obstructed my view, but on
the right it commanded an extensive tract of country. The thick, white,
shining mists lying in the low grounds gave them the exact appearance
of water at that dusk time of night, while mountains in their range
sketched out the harbours and islands which I had discovered.[18]
Overtake my baggage, and arrive.
_July 21._--At Everslip by half-past one. Dispatch the holker for
horses. Go into a room in the house, like an oven; no light, but merely
darkness visible; lie on a sofa; see a black many-legged reptile glide
across the wall; start up and go out to meet my baggage.
Men impatient for payment. “What will you have?” “For my two horses,
five dollars.” “Rascal! I will give you one and a half, which I know
to be right, and a half for yourself.” “Very right, tanka,” said he.
Baggage arrives--relieved.
Daylight now, as with a mantle, robed our world, and bade fictitious
seas and white mists yield the deceptive mask. And now I took the reins.
Crick, crack, the horses fly,
At every click more swift they hie.
Sudden each blade of grass, each feathered shrub, gleamed golden
bright, and turning to the east, the glorious orb above the hills
exalted half his disk.
This morn his crimson robe he chose, translucent,
That sheds its glowing tints on every mound,
And spreads its warm refulgence o’er the ground.
Arrive at Regerberg much tired, and roost. Wait for horses; start at
half-past twelve, and arrive at Glumslouf. View beautiful--wooded banks
of Zealand, Copenhagen spires. Meet divers Swedish nobles; they are
diverted at the manner in which I expedite the hostler. “Holker,” said
I, and he looking back, I shake a bag of halfpence at him, and he runs
like blazes.
Arrive at Helsingborg at five; much delighted as I approach with the
view of Zealand.
The _Orion_ and _Vanguard_ and _Calypso_ in the Sound, and beautiful
Cronberg Castle beyond them.
Drive to Mr. Fenwick, the British Consul, and deliver letters. He,
a gentlemanlike young man, actively obliging, procures me a room,
and invites me to his house. Covered with dust and sweat, I plunge
delightedly, and lave my limbs, then I robe myself afresh, and freed
from all my dirt, sally forth and drink tea at the Consul’s. The
boat announced, we proceed on board the _Orion_, and I deliver my
despatches. As Admiral Bertie is not on board, I reclaim them, and
pursue him to the _Vanguard_. Return on shore, sup with Mr. Fenwick,
who gives me a snuff-box. Go to bed at twelve.
_July 22, Friday._--Get up half-past 2 A.M., open the window, to find a
midshipman looking for me, so I dress quick and send baggage to boat.
Admiral had said at daylight the _Calypso’s_ instructions should be
perfectly ready. Get on board about four--delightful brig. Captain goes
on board the _Orion_; no despatches yet. Fine breeze, which would shoot
us by Cronberg Castle and the swarming gunboats, blowing to waste. At 2
P.M. calm.
Signal made by telegraph: “Come on board; bring the engineer.” So we go
on board, and _Calypso_ weighs; as the breeze rises away we go; there
is no firing, and we dart along.
_July 25, Monday._--Fall in with a Dutch fishing-boat and board her,
and get ten or a dozen very large cod. Fish ourselves; catch numerous
mackerel in a light breeze--beautiful dying--green, blue, red, and
rose. Becalmed. Plumb for cod; catch plenty, very large codfish and
ling, also a dogfish. Cabinetmaker begs the skin to finish off his
work. This evening the sun set in unusual splendour; he sank down
into a thick indigo bank, whose edges he tinged with colours dipt in
heaven. Sky tinctured green, and all above was yellow golden radiance,
richly fretted in vapours, which blended off to the wilder clouds in
the richest roseate glow. The sea was glassy smooth, but heaved gently
with majesty, in her borrowed robe of gold refulgent, while in the east
a perfect bow shone in full colours, striding over heaven, an arch
superb, which the reflecting waves joined underneath again, making the
round complete:--
The horizon round was dim, sublime,
And wild, warm clouds mingled with ocean line.
Rain,--imperceptible breeze; slip through at four knots. 140 miles from
Yarmouth.
_July 28, Thursday_, 4 A.M.--Fair wind, going nine miles per hour.
Board a suspicious vessel like a French privateer and find her a
Greenland schooner. Heavy rain, dirty weather, close to Norfolk coast.
Anchor for the night.
_July 29, Friday_, 4 A.M.--As we were getting up anchor the fog came
on very thick. And though the wind at length relents, the envious fog
still obscures the entrance to port; as it clears away we weigh anchor
about 1 P.M., at which time I land, having preceded in the gig with
Captain Bradby.
I wait upon Admiral Douglas, and hear that Sir J. Moore is at
Portsmouth and expected to sail hourly. After this very fretful. Go
on board again to make distribution of bag, but return immediately
and get on shore half an hour before the mail starts. Take my place.
In the mail are two men in coarse jackets and trousers, just escaped
from France, having broken their parole. The joy of having escaped
seemed entirely to fly away with all compunction, if indeed they had
any conscience. They had undergone great hardships, so I smothered the
severity of my disapprobation.
_July 30._--Go to the Blenheim Hotel, Bond Street. Find that General
Moore has taken care that I shall follow him. The General invites me to
breakfast to talk of my report. See Sir R. Milnes. Call on Mrs. Meynell.
_July 31._--Breakfast with General Moore. Office to-morrow. No tidings
of baggage. Write letters home.
BLENHEIM HOTEL, NEW BOND STREET,
_July 31, 1808_.
MY LOUISA--First let me tell you that I am going to-morrow to
Portsmouth to join or follow Sir John Moore, so hope not to see me
just yet.
Having completed my services in the Baltic, I arrived at Yarmouth
yesterday, and hearing that Sir J. Moore only waited for a wind,
I was upon tenterhooks until in London, so half an hour after I
landed I put myself into the mail, and arrived here at nine o’clock
this morning. “Keep moving” has been for some time my motto.
Now, my own lass, have I much to discourse with thee about.
There is my journey to Trollhättan and my peregrinations in the
Baltic, my travels again through Sweden, all which, as I kept a
circumstantial journal, you shall be sure to have. The civility
and kindness of Admiral Keats, with whom I lived, made my stay
quite delightful. After I had been on board three days it was
necessary to transfer me to another line-of-battle ship, and when
I was going he told me he should be back in a few days: “And
then, if you please, you shall take up your quarters with me.”
This pleased me much, and when he did return he took me into his
cabin, and I was as happy as the day was long, although very hard
worked. He is by all the Navy esteemed now the first character in
it, and all his officers, although they dislike him, absolutely
swear by him in a professional point of view, and acknowledge
that they believe a better or more tender-hearted man does not
exist, but still he is disagreeable on duty. He, as Captain Keats,
commanded the _Superb_ in Admiral Saumarcy’s action off Algeciras,
dashed in between two Spanish three-deckers, and, giving each a
broadside, passed clear in the smoke and engaged another ship of
equal force, which he sank. Meanwhile the two Spaniards continued
by mistake to fight each other in the smoke until they both blew
up; thus by such conduct he destroyed three line-of-battle ships.
All the great folks send their sons under his charge, and admirably
kind and masterly he is with them. A son of the Duke of Clarence
is with him, a fine lad. I never saw such delightful boys. The
Admiral makes them write sham letters to him every Saturday.
My favourite, little Georges, gave an account of a sea-fight.
“My Lords,” he says, “I enclose a copy of my letter to Admiral
Easterbrooke (another monkey just like himself), and in an event
of this importance I have thought it necessary to send my first
lieutenant, Hawkins (another), to whom I refer your Lordships for
any further, etc., and beg to recommend him, etc., as an officer
of distinguished merit, etc.,” and so on.
The Admiral has a favourite little dog and a favourite cow. “I
think it very odd, Mr. Georges,” said he, “that none of you
youngsters have had the civility to write to my dog or cow; it
would do just as well to exercise you; besides, you might take a
sly fling at the Admiral.”
So next time young Georges writes:--“Dear Madam Cow,” begging her
to bestow a little of her great bag of milk on the youngsters--a
pretty broad hint to the Admiral. But what prattle is this! I
delivered my papers to the chief engineer this morning, the
originals of which are sent, I fancy, to Lord Castlereagh and the
Admiralty. My chief received me very graciously. I learned from
him with great joy that General Moore had applied to Lord Chatham
to have me follow him, and that his Lordship had acceded; but as
General Moore does not command in chief, I have no staff hopes, for
the present at least.
The people in this house speak in raptures of dearest old Dad....
Do you write by return of post, and I shall write to-morrow, and in
the meantime, my dearest Lou, Heaven have thee in its holy keeping.