My great ambition as a boy was to be a sailor; the idea of becoming one
occupied my thoughts by day and influenced my dreams by night. I
delighted in reading naval histories and exploits and tales of the sea,
and I looked upon Rodney, Howe, Nelson, and Saint Vincent, as well as
Duncan, Collingwood, Exmouth, and Sir Sidney Smith, as far greater men,
and more worthy of admiration, than all the heroes of antiquity put
together--an opinion which I hold even to the present day, and which, I
hope, all my readers will maintain with me.
Once it happened during my summer holidays that, most unwillingly, I was
taken up to London. During the time, a naval friend, having compassion
on me, suggested that I might find matter of interest by a trip to
Greenwich, and a visit to the Hospital. I jumped at the proposal. I
can never forget the feelings with which I entered the wide, smooth
space on which that beautiful collection of buildings stands, forming
the Royal Hospital for Seamen, with its broad terrace facing, the river,
and found myself surrounded by many hundreds of the gallant veterans who
had maintained not only so nobly the honour of Old England on the deep,
but had contributed to preserve her from the numberless foes who had
threatened her with destruction.
The building is of itself interesting. On this spot once stood the
Royal Palace of Placentia, in which no less than four successive
sovereigns were born--Henry the Eighth, Edward the Sixth, Mary, and
Elizabeth. Charles the Second had intended to rebuild it, but left it
unfinished; and it was put into the heart of good Queen Mary, the wife
of William of Orange, to establish that noble institution for the
reception of the disabled seamen of the Royal Navy, which, much
augmented in size, has ever since existed the noblest monument to a
sovereign's memory.
I visited the beautiful chapel and the painted hall, where already were
hung a number of fine pictures, illustrative of England's naval
victories; and my friend then took me to see an old shipmate of his, who
was one of the officers of the Hospital. When he heard that I wished to
go to sea, and was so warm an admirer of Nelson, he exclaimed--
"He'll just suit me. Let him stay here for a few days. We'll fish out
some of our men who long served with Nelson, and if he keeps his ears
turning right and left he'll hear many a yarn to astonish him. He must
have patience though. The old fellows will not open out at once; their
memories are like wells, you must throw a little water down at first
before you can get them to draw."
I was delighted with the proposal. My friend, however, began to make
excuses, saying that he ought to take me back, and that I had no clothes
with me. At this the Greenwich officer, Lieutenant R--, laughed
heartily.
"A shirt-collar and a pocket-comb? What does a midshipman want more?"
he exclaimed. "But I will find him all the luxuries he may require.
Let him stay, and tell his friends that he is in safe keeping."
So it was arranged, and I found myself an inmate of Greenwich Hospital.
After I had been seen walking up and down the terrace a few times with
Lieutenant R--, the pensioners, when I spoke to them, answered me
readily, though at first rather shy of talking of themselves or their
adventures. At length I fell in with a fine old man, and sitting down
on one of the benches facing the river, I began to tell him how much I
honoured and loved all sailors, and how I longed myself to become one.
"Ay, boy, there are good and bad at sea as well as on shore; but as to
the life, it's good enough; and if I had mine to begin again, I would
choose it before all others," he answered, and once more relapsed into
silence.
Just then Lieutenant R-- passed; he nodded at me with a smile, saying,
as he passed on, "My old friend there will tell you more of Lord Nelson
than any man now in the Hospital."
The old man looked at me with a beaming expression on his countenance.
"Ay, that I can," he said, "boy and man I sailed with him all my life,
from the day he got his first command till he was struck down in the
hour of victory. So to speak, sir, I may say I knew him from the very
day he first stepped on board a ship. This is how it was: My father was
a seaman, and belonged to the `Raisonable,' just fitted out by Captain
Suckling, and lying in the Medway. One afternoon a little fellow was
brought on board by one of the officers, and it was said that he was the
captain's nephew; but the captain was on shore, and there was nobody to
look after him. He walked the deck up and down, looking very miserable,
but not crying, as some boys would have done--not he. That wasn't his
way at any time. When the captain did come on board, and he saw his
nephew, he shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that he didn't
think he was fit for a sea-life. No more he did look fit for it, for he
was a sick, weakly-looking little fellow. However, it wasn't long
before he showed what a great spirit there was in him."
"Ay," said I, "there is a story I have heard which proved that, when he
was merely a child. He and another little fellow had gone away
bird's-nesting from his grandmother's house, and he not coming back, the
servants were sent to look for him. He was found seated by the side of
a brook, which he could not get over. `I wonder, child,' said the old
lady, when she saw him, `that hunger and fear did not drive you home.'
`Fear, grandmamma!' answered the boy, `I never saw fear! What is it?'"
"True, true!" exclaimed the old man. "Fear! I don't think he ever felt
it either. Well, as I was going to tell you, my father followed Captain
Suckling into the `Triumph,' and young Nelson went with him; but as she
was merely to do duty as guard-ship in the Thames, the captain sent his
nephew out in a merchant-vessel to the West Indies, to pick up some
knowledge of seamanship. When he came back he soon showed that he had
not lost his time, and that he was already a good practical seaman.
Soon after this an expedition was fitted out for a voyage of discovery
towards the North Pole, under Captain Phipps and Captain Lutwidge, in
the `Racehorse' and `Carcass.' My father volunteered, and so did Mr
Nelson, who got a berth as captain's coxswain with Captain Lutwidge.
The ships, after entering the polar seas, were quickly beset with ice.
Mr Nelson, who had command of a boat, soon showed what he was made of.
My father was in another boat, and as they were exploring a channel to
try and find a passage for the ships into the open sea, one of the
officers fired at a walrus. `Ah, I've hit him!' he exclaimed, `not a
bad shot!' and he thought no more about the matter. But the brute gave
a look up with a face like a human being, as much as to say, `We'll see
if more than one can play at that game,' and down he dived. Presently
up again he came, with some twenty or more companions, and with the
greatest fury they set on the boat with their tusks, and tried to
capsize her. My father and the rest of the crew fought desperately with
boat-hook and axes, but they were getting the worst of it, and well-nigh
gave themselves up as lost, when another boat was seen coming along the
channel towards them. On she dashed; a young officer, a very little
fellow, with an axe in his hand, sprang to the bows, and began dealing
his blows right and left at the heads of the walruses till several were
killed, when the rest dived down and took to flight. That young lad was
Nelson. Soon after this, one morning he and another boy were missed
from the ship. It was reported that they had gone away in pursuit of a
bear which had been seen prowling about. A thick fog had come on, and
they did not return. The captain began to think that they were lost,
and a party was sent out to look for them. After wandering about for
some time, the fog cleared off, and there was Mr Nelson, with a ship's
musket in his hand, close up to a big white polar bear, who could have
made mincemeat of him in a moment. The party shouted to him to return,
but he wouldn't listen to them; and they expected every moment to see
the bear turn and crush him. Still on he went, moving sideways with the
bear. When they got up, they found that there was a wide chasm which
had prevented him from getting closer to the animal. They led him back
to the ship, and when the captain asked him why he had gone, he
answered, with a pouting lip, that he had set his heart on getting a
bear's skin for his father, and that he didn't think he should have a
better opportunity.
"The captain reprimanded, but forgave him. There were greater dangers
in store both for him and all in the expedition; and for a long time
they had little hope of getting the ships clear of the ice. Mr Nelson
exerted himself to cut a channel to let them escape; and at length a
favourable wind getting up, they stood clear of it just as it was
expected that they would be frozen in. They found themselves free, and
reached England in safety. Mr Nelson had nearly been killed by the
cold, and now he was to be tried by the scorching climate of the Indian
seas. Such are the rapid changes we seamen have to undergo. He was
appointed to the `Seahorse,' and out she went to the Indian station.
The climate soon did what no dangers or common hardships could do; it
took away the use of his limbs, and almost overcame his brave spirit.
He returned home, feeling that he should never succeed in the navy or in
anything else. But then suddenly he thought, `I was not born to die
unknown. I'll try what I can do. I'll trust in Providence. I'll serve
my king and country--I will be a hero.' I heard him say this long
after, and I have often since thought if all lads were to try to do
their best, and trust in Providence, we shouldn't hear of so many as we
do getting into poverty and disgrace.
"No officer, I have heard, ever passed a better examination for
seamanship and navigation than did Mr Nelson. His uncle was present,
but did not say who the young man was till the examination was over.
Whatever he did he tried to do as well as he could; that was the reason
of his success. Just about this time, young as I was, my father took me
to sea with him, and we went out to the West Indies. We were shortly
turned over to the `Hichinbrook,' a prize captured from the enemy, and
mounting twenty-eight guns. I was walking the deck with my father when
a thin, sallow, small young man stepped up the side. I should have
taken him for a midshipman, but he had on a post-captain's uniform. He
nodded, as an old acquaintance, to my father, who stood hat in hand with
the other men to receive him. `That's Mr Nelson, our new captain,'
said my father; `he'll not let the grass grow under his feet.' That was
the first time I ever saw the great Lord Nelson. What my father said
was true. We soon sailed to convoy a fleet of transports destined to
attack Saint Juan de Nicaragua. Up a muddy river we pulled, led by our
captain, with a hot scorching sun striking down on us. We arrived
before a fort. Captain Nelson leaped on shore, sword in hand, leaving
his shoes in the mud, to attack it. The fort was taken, and so was San
Juan itself; and though the grass did not grow under our feet, it was
soon growing over the heads of numbers of the fine fellows who composed
the expedition--both redcoats and seamen; and though our captain,
receiving notice of his appointment to another ship, the `Janus,' sailed
away immediately, we lost the greater number of our people by sickness.
The captain was so knocked up that he had to go home invalided, as did
my father, who was never able again to go to sea. I went with him, and
we lived for some time at Deal.
"I remember early in January, 1782, a tremendous gale sprang up. My
father and I were standing on the shore, he with his glass in his hand
watching the ships driving here and there, one running foul of another,
when we observed a heavy store-ship drive right down on a frigate.
"`They'll grind each other down to the water's edge,' observed my
father. `Does no one on board know what to do? I'd like to be off to
lend a hand, but that's impossible; few boats could live in such a sea.'
"While we were talking, a lad came running along the beach, saying that
an officer was in a great taking, wanting to get off to his ship, and no
one would go.
"`Who is he?' asked my father.
"`A Captain Nelson,' answered the lad.
"`I'll go, if any man will trust his boat,' exclaimed my father. `Come
along, Ned.'
"We ran along the beach, and there we found our late captain walking up
and down, fuming away, and trying to persuade the boatmen to take him
off.
"`I'll go, sir, if I had a boat,' said my father. `I've long sailed
with you.'
"`Ah! Ned Freeman. Thank you--thank you,' exclaimed the captain. `I'm
sure you'd go with me anywhere.'
"`We'll take the captain off if he'll give us fifteen guineas,' observed
several of the men, owners of a fine boat.
"`Done!' exclaimed the captain. `Off we go at once.'
"My father and I, with the other men, launched the boat. Away we pulled
with the white-topped seas dancing up round us and the dangerous Goodwin
Sands to leeward, towards which the frigate was driving fast. Captain
Nelson, by word and look, urged us on, though more than once I thought
the boat would have been swamped, and all hands lost. We did succeed in
getting alongside. The captain sprang on board, and soon had got the
ships clear with only the loss of the frigate's bowsprit and pennant.
"`Well, Freeman, if you can't sail with me, your boy must,' said the
captain, as the boat was about to shove off for the shore; `I'll look
after him.'
"`Will you go, Ned?' said my father to me.
"There was no time for consideration. I said, `Yes, father.'
"My kind father wrung my hand, and we parted never to meet again.
"The `Albemarle' soon after sailed for Canada and the West Indies. Our
captain had a kind heart. On our first cruise we captured a fishing
vessel belonging to Boston. The master wrung his hands, declaring that
he had no other property, and a large family at home to support, who
would all be brought to beggary. The captain told him not to be cast
down; that he would employ him as a pilot, and give him back his vessel
at the end of the time. He was as good as his word, and I never saw a
poor fellow so happy and grateful as the fisherman was when he was put
on shore. Some time after, when we were all suffering from scurvy, not
having had a fresh piece of meat or vegetables for many months, the same
man came off to us with a full supply for several days, which I believe
saved the lives of many poor fellows on board.
"Soon after this, while cruising off Boston, a squadron of four French
line-of-battle ships and a frigate were seen from the masthead. They
made sail in chase, but the captain knew well all the shoals and
quicksands in those parts, and soon got into channels where the big
ships were afraid to follow. The frigate, however, kept on her course,
and when we saw this we hove to, to wait for her. We all looked forward
with joy to a brush, but she did not like our appearance, and much to
out disappointment, about she went and rejoined her consorts.
"I can't tell you all the things we did in the West Indies. At last we
went home, and were paid off; and I remained on shore with my widowed
mother till I heard that Captain Nelson had commissioned the `Boreas.'
I went and joined him. He received me heartily, and away we sailed for
the West Indies.
"Young as was our captain, he found himself senior officer on the
station--that is to say, second in command under the admiral; for in
those days we had old heads on young shoulders; so we should now, if
boys would try to imitate the example of wise and noble men, not to ape
the folly of foolish ones. We were chiefly among the Leeward Islands.
"While visiting the island of Nevis, the captain fell in love with a
lady, a Mrs Nisbet, and they married: a very good, kind young lady she
was, that I remember; but after we returned home I saw no more of her.
The `Boreas' was paid off in 1787. Thus I have told you most of what I
remember about Nelson's early days. He was soon to be known to the
world as the greatest naval captain of his time."