He was born in the year 1788, and was, as we have seen, soon after
placed under the charge of a stepmother, by whom it is said he was
not only neglected, but treated with harshness and cruelty; and hence
throughout his life stepmothers were regarded by him with a feeling
of unconquerable horror.[4] The accounts which he occasionally gave
his companions of the sufferings of his youth, arising from the causes
which have been specified, were appalling. In reference to them, an
enemy, who, however, seems to have been in possession of accurate
information on the subject, says, that while a schoolboy, “the climate
of Lapland and that of Timbuctoo alternated several times in the course
of a day—a species of seasoning, or rather _case-hardening_, that must
go far to render him invulnerable on the sultry banks of the Joliba.”
And one of the most intimate of his friends thus speaks of them in a
letter now before us: “How can the hardships and privations of his
early life be touched upon without hurting the feelings of relatives?
These had much better be buried in oblivion, although they tended to
form the man hardy and self-denying.” When he was a boy, he was nearly
drowned in the Annan; and on that occasion he used to say, that he
felt as if a calm and pleasing sleep was stealing over his senses, and
thought that gay and beautifully painted streamers were attached to his
legs and arms, and that thereby he was buoyed out into the sea; but he
always declared that he experienced no pain until efforts were making
to restore him to a state of animation. At this time he was an expert
swimmer, having been previously taught that useful art by his brothers;
but he had exhausted his strength by continuing too long in the water.
When the alarm of his danger was given by some one to his father,
he hastened to the spot, plunged in, and found his son in a sitting
posture in very deep water.
Among the injuries of his early life, that of a neglected education
was none of the least. He was taught the ordinary acquirements of
reading, writing, and arithmetic, which are generally imparted to the
lowest classes of the Scottish youth; but he was never initiated into
a knowledge of the classic authors of Greece and Rome. Under Mr. Bryce
Downie, however, a celebrated teacher of geometry in the town of Annan,
he acquired a practical knowledge of mathematics, including navigation
and trigonometry, and afterwards, by means of his own application, he
acquired many other branches of useful and ornamental knowledge, and
excelled especially in drawing.[5]
He very early discovered a strong propensity for this latter
accomplishment, so that, with the aid of a few instructions from his
father, who excelled in the knowledge of geography, he could sketch
a map of Europe, while still a child in frocks, with chalk on the
floor. His love of foreign travel and romantic adventure, were likewise
very soon manifested in the delight which he took in listening to his
father, while he pointed out the likely situation of the “North West
passage” to him and his brothers on the globe; in the enthusiasm which
he displayed, when told by his father that he might be the destined
discoverer of that long sought for route from Europe to Eastern Asia;
and also in the avidity with which he devoured books of voyages and
travels of all descriptions whenever they fell in his way.
The circumstance of his entering upon a seafaring life is variously
reported. By one account we are assured that his situation at home
being so unpleasant, he became so thoroughly disgusted with his
father’s house, that he left it clandestinely, and went on board the
first vessel in the harbour of Annan that was willing to receive him.
By his anonymous and unfriendly biographer, it is said that he was
promoted to the rank of an apprentice to a coasting sloop of Maryport,
commanded by Captain John Smith, and that soon afterwards he was again
promoted to the rank of cook’s mate on board his majesty’s tender
in the harbour of Liverpool. His uncle’s account, in the sketch of
his life prefixed to the Journal of his Second African Expedition,
is, that on leaving Mr. Downie, at the age of thirteen, he was, by
his own desire, bound an apprentice to the owner of a vessel of
considerable burden trading between Liverpool and North America:
that after making several voyages in that vessel, he either left her
or was impressed into his Majesty’s service, and put on board the
tender lying at Liverpool. It is clear, from all these accounts, that
Captain Clapperton commenced his naval career as a common sailor boy—a
situation which implies hard duty and rough usage; yet, as is testified
by the following well authenticated anecdote, this, with all he had
previously endured, was unable to break his spirit, or to subdue the
dignified feelings of a noble nature. As soon as he had joined the
trading vessel in which he first sailed, he was told that one piece
of duty which he had to perform on board was to brush his captain’s
boots and shoes. This he positively refused to do, adding, that he was
most willing to take his full share of the hardest work which belonged
to the loading, the unloading, or the working of the ship; but to the
menial drudgery of cleaning boots and shoes he certainly would not
submit. After he had for a short time served on board several trading
vessels, he was impressed into his Majesty’s service at Liverpool;
and in 1806 he was sent to Gibraltar in a navy transport.[6] The
idea, however, of having been placed on board a man-of-war by force,
and retained there as a prisoner, was so galling to his nature—to a
spirit panting and struggling to be free—that he formed the resolution
(one most difficult to be put in practice) of deserting whenever the
opportunity of doing so should occur: and such was the reckless daring
of his disposition, that, watching the time when he was least observed
by his messmates before the mast, he actually threw himself headlong
overboard, and swam towards a Gibraltar privateer—a vessel of that
class which, during the late war, were usually called _rock scorpions_
by our sailors. He was taken on board the privateer, and so for a short
time he was the associate of an abandoned and a lawless set of robbers.
But he was soon disgusted with their regardless, savage and brutal
manners, and so embraced the first opportunity of leaving them, and of
going again into the merchant service. While, however, he was on board
the Rock Scorpion, she had sustained an engagement, in which our hero
was severely wounded by a grape-shot—an accident by which his body was
seamed and scarred in a frightful manner, and which, had it happened to
his face or his limbs, must have rendered him deformed or lame for life.
SECT. IV.—THE MANNER IN WHICH HE WAS PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF A
MIDSHIPMAN IN THE ROYAL NAVY.
After he had left the privateer he was soon discovered, and brought
back to the Renommée frigate as a deserter. It is mentioned in the
“Sketch,” which says nothing of the rock scorpion adventure, that when
Clapperton first joined the Renommée frigate, which was commanded
by Sir Thomas Livingstone, having heard that his uncle, a captain
of marines on board his Majesty’s ship Saturn, which had arrived at
Gibraltar for the purpose of watering and refitting, he sent him
a letter describing his situation on board the Renommée; that his
uncle having previously been a messmate of her captain, Sir Thomas
Livingstone, interfered with him in behalf of his nephew, and through
his interest got him promoted to the rank of a midshipman.[7] All we
can say to this statement is, that Clapperton himself, whose heart was
most grateful, never spoke of a letter he had written to his uncle, nor
that he was in any way indebted to that gentleman for his promotion
in the navy. He seems never to have seen his uncle till he met him
in London after he had engaged to go with Dr. Oudney to Africa. In a
letter to a friend, dated London, 1st September 1821, he says, “my
uncle has been to see me several times, and was truly kind. He is a
perfect gentleman, without any nonsense.” Now, the correspondent to
whom he thus writes, declares that Clapperton never mentioned to him
that he had ever written to his uncle, soliciting his interest in his
favour, or that he was in any respect indebted to him, in the first
instance, for his promotion in the navy. But while he said nothing to
his friend of his uncle in connexion with this matter, he frequently
gave him a most circumstantial and graphic description of the manner in
which this promotion took place. And as it is in keeping with the rest
of the romantic and eventful life of our hero, and, above all, as it is
his own account, we hasten to lay it before our readers.
When he was apprehended as a deserter, and brought back to his old
birth on board the Renommée, his captain, Sir Thomas Livingstone,
having previously observed that he possessed a strength of body, a
robustness of constitution, and a fearless daringness of spirit, which
might be turned to good account in the naval service, which, at that
time required to be sustained and strengthened by attaching to it men
of such mental and bodily qualities as these, asked the deserter,
if he should pardon his delinquency, and raise him to the rank of a
midshipman, would he give him his solemn pledge, that he would no
more desert, but do his duty faithfully? Clapperton, with the bold
and dauntless air and bearing of the captive British prince, who “had
been the admiration, the terror of the Romans,” when led in triumph
through the streets of the mighty capital, still “walked the warrior,
majestic in his chains,” replied that he was not yet prepared to give
a final and decisive answer to such a question, and therefore asked
time to consider on what he should determine. “Are you not aware,
Sir,” rejoined the captain, “that I can order you to be flogged as a
deserter?” “That I know you can do, and I expect no less,” was our
hero’s reply, “but still I am unprepared at present to decide on your
proposal.” The result, however, of this extraordinary conversation
was, that the captain ordered him into solitary confinement, with an
admonition to lose no time in coming to a speedy determination as to
the course which he should adopt. In this situation his reflections
took a wise and a prudent turn, and led him quickly to resolve to give
his generous captain the assurance of fidelity which he required of
him; and, on doing so, he was promoted to the rank of a midshipman
on board the Renommée frigate, where he had first served as an
impressed sailor boy, and on the deck of which he had stood in the
capacity of an apprehended deserter. Afterwards, on his own request,
he was allowed to go on shore during a specified period of time, on
his _parole_ of honour. It is very true the account of his promotion
through his uncle’s interference in his behalf accords better with the
ordinary course of things in such proceedings than that stated above.
But we think, that if Clapperton had been aware that he was indebted
to his uncle on this occasion he would not have concealed the fact
from his friends; and likewise we think, that the disparity of his
condition as a common sailor, and that of his uncle as a captain of
marines, would have been sufficient to deter him from making himself
known to his uncle, or asking any thing from him. For though his
feelings of honour sometimes rested on mistaken principles, they were
always very sensitive; and so we are decidedly of opinion, that in
the circumstances of this case he would have felt equally unwilling
to expose his own servile condition to his uncle, and to compromise
his uncle’s dignity by making the captain of marines appear the near
kinsman of the common sailor. We happen to know a case in point which
illustrates this view of the matter. During the late war, one of
the sons of a gentleman in Argyleshire, absconded from his father’s
house, and for a while it was unknown where he had gone, till he was
discovered by one of his brothers, a captain in the army, as a common
sailor on board a man-of-war. The captain instigated by fraternal
affection, was anxious to procure an interview with his brother, and so
sent him a note, informing him where he was, and expressing his earnest
desire that he would endeavour to meet him on shore. The answer to this
kind and brotherly invitation was an expression of wounded pride. “If,”
said the sailor, “Captain M. has any business to transact with Donald
M. let him come on board H. M. S——— and transact it there.” And we
think Clapperton would have been apt to feel and act nearly in the same
manner in the circumstances in which he and his uncle were relatively
situated on board the Renommée frigate, and the ship Saturn; though at
the same time, it is not unlikely that Sir Thomas Livingstone having
discovered his deserter’s connexion with his old messmate, was disposed
not only to remit his punishment, but likewise to give him the chance
of retrieving his honour and of benefiting his country. Neither do we
think it is the least unlikely that Sir Thomas and Captain Clapperton
may have had mutual communications respecting our hero, but we can see
no reason for believing that he was in any way made privy to them,
but many to make us believe the contrary. Now raised to the rank of
a midshipman, he performed some hard service on the coast of Spain,
in which he was wounded on the head—a wound which, though it seemed
apparently slight, afterwards gave him much annoyance. He remained on
board the Renommée, and under the command of Sir Thomas Livingstone, to
whom he was so deeply indebted, till the year 1808, when the frigate
was brought to England and paid off.[8]