When Clapperton left the Renommée frigate, and his generous captain,
Sir Thomas Livingstone, to whom he was indebted for his first step of
promotion in the Royal Navy, he is said to have joined his Majesty’s
ship Venerable, (or, as others say, the San Domingo,) which then lay
in the Downs under the command of Captain King. But as this was a
situation too monotonous and inactive for his enterprising spirit,
he volunteered to go with Captain Briggs, to the East Indies, in the
Clorinde frigate. Though, however, his services were accepted, he
could not obtain his discharge in time to make his voyage to India
in the Clorinde; and so he was deprived of the pleasure of getting
acquainted, in the course of it, with those with whom he was ultimately
to be associated as his messmates. But as tranships and convoys were
frequently sailing from England to the east, he was ordered by the
Admiral to have a passage on board one of them, and to join Captain
Briggs on his arrival in India.
In the course of this outward voyage, he was ordered, during the
raging of a tremendous storm, to go, in an open barge, to the relief
of a vessel in distress. The barge was accordingly manned, but the
mighty rolling of the billows chaffed and vexed with the furious
raging of the tempest, was such, that Clapperton and many others on
board the ship in which he sailed, were of opinion, that it was next
to impossible an open boat could live during the blowing of so heavy a
gale. In this emergency, Clapperton said, that it was not for him to
dispute the orders of his superior officer, but that he was thoroughly
convinced that in doing his duty he must sacrifice his life. Then, in
serious mood and sailor-like fashion, he made his will, bequeathing
any little property he had among his messmates—his kit to one, his
quadrant to another, and his glass and watch to a third—adding, that in
all probability they should never meet again, and requesting them to
keep these articles, trifling as they were, in token of his affection
for them. Then he jumped into the barge, which, in spite of all that
the most skillful seamanship could accomplish, had scarcely left the
side of the ship, when she was upset, and the greater part of her crew
engulfed in the awfully agitated waters. Clapperton, however, and a few
other individuals, still clung to the sides of the floating wreck; and
though their perilous situation was distinctly seen from the ship, no
assistance could be afforded to them, so long as the tempest continued
to rage with so much violence. In the mean time, Clapperton, while he
was careful to preserve his own life, did his utmost, and more than
perhaps any other man would have ventured to do in like circumstances,
to save the lives of his companions in distress. As they, one by
one, lost their hold of the barge, and dropped off into the sea, he
swam after them, picked them up, and replaced them in their former
situation. He was especially anxious to save the life of a warrant
officer, the boatswain of the ship, we believe. This man he several
times rescued when he was on the point of sinking, and restored him
to the barge. By these efforts, Clapperton’s strength, great as it
was, soon became nearly exhausted, and while with difficulty he was
bringing the boatswain back to take a fresh hold of the boat, and while
at the same time he was crying, “Oh, what will become of my wife and
children,” Clapperton coolly observed, that he had better pay some
attention to his own safety at present, otherwise he must, however
reluctantly, leave him to his fate. This man was drowned, as well as
every one else who had left the ship in the barge, except Clapperton
and the bowman, whom our hero cheered by saying, “Thank heaven neither
you nor I is the Jonah,” intimating, by this marine proverb, that it
was not for the punishment of their bad conduct that the tempest had
been sent; and at the same time advised him to _bob_, that is, to lay
himself flat, when he saw a wave approaching, so that he might not be
washed off the barge.
Long prior to this signal occurrence, in which our hero showed so much
of the boldness of determined courage, united with the gentle feelings
of compassion, he had become a general favourite both with the officers
and men. His stately form, his noble bearing, his kind, frank, and
manly demeanour, had endeared him to all on board the ship in which he
served. But a man is often the last to know the sentiments entertained
of him by others to whom he is known; and indeed, seldom knows them
at all, unless when they happen to be revealed to him by accidental
circumstances. And hence, as Clapperton was hoisted on board the ship,
in an exhausted state, after being rescued from the perilous situation
in which he had so long struggled for his life, he had his feelings
strongly excited, on hearing the wives of the Scottish soldiers on
board exclaiming, “Thank heaven, it is na our ain kintryman, the bonny
muckle midshipman that’s drownded after a’!”
It may reasonably be supposed, that the gallantry and humanity which
Clapperton had so conspicuously displayed on this trying occasion,
would tend to deepen the esteem in which he was held by all on
board, and especially that it would be the means of securing for him
the admiration, the affection, and the friendship of many kindred
spirits connected with the navy—a service so long and so eminently
distinguished for firmness of purpose and nobleness of disposition.
Accordingly, when Clapperton arrived in India, and when his gallantry
was made known, he received the greatest attention from Captain
Briggs,[9] during the whole of the time he continued under his command;
and among other friendships which he formed with officers of his
own standing, was one of peculiar intimacy and tenderness, with Mr.
Mackenzie, the youngest son of the late Lord Seaforth. It happened
that this amiable and noble youth became, in that distant region, the
victim of a dangerous disease; and during the whole of his illness,
Clapperton, his newly acquired friend, unless when the avocations of
professional duty called him hence, never left him; but continued
to amuse and nurse him with the affectionate assiduity of a loving
brother, till he was so far recovered as to be able to resume his
public duty. After Mackenzie was in some degree restored to health,
he continued to be depressed in spirits, and in that state became
careless of his person and of every thing else, thinking, like most
hypochondriacs, that death was fast approaching to deliver him from all
his sufferings. When under the influence of these feelings—afflicted
indeed both in mind and body—he was by no means a desirable companion,
and in truth was shunned by most of the young officers on board the
Clorinde. But Clapperton, whose benevolent heart would not permit him
to witness a fellow-creature, and still less a countryman and a friend
an object of unfeeling neglect, redoubled his attentions to the forlorn
youth. He read with him daily such books of instruction and amusement
as either of them had in their possession, or could procure the perusal
of from the other officers. He endeavoured to inspire him with the
sentiments befitting his rank as the lineal descendant of a noble
family, and with a sense of the duties incumbent upon him as an officer
of the British navy. He talked to him of Scotland, and relations, and
home. He entertained him with amusing anecdotes, of which he possessed
an inexhaustible fund, and by relating to him the numerous vicissitudes
and strange adventures of his own early life. And such was the happy
effect produced upon the health and spirits of his young friend, that
he was able to resume his duty on board the Clorinde, and to enjoy and
return the cordial friendship which he experienced from Clapperton.
Though we believe, that the officers of the British navy are, perhaps,
more distinguished for simplicity of feeling and openness of heart,
than the men belonging to any other profession whatsoever; yet, it
would appear, that some of the officers of the Clorinde had given
entertainment in their breasts to the green-eyed monster, Envy. And
hence, when they observed the close intimacy which subsisted between
Clapperton and Mackenzie, and the kind attention which, during his
illness, the latter experienced from the former, they said among
themselves, but loud enough to be heard by Clapperton, “The canny
Scotsman knows what he is about, by attaching himself so closely to
a sprig of nobility; he courts his favour that he may use him as his
instrument for obtaining promotion.” The effect of these injurious
whisperings upon the mind of our hero was, in the first instance, to
cause him to make a great sacrifice of feeling to the injury both of
himself and his friend. He withdrew all attention from Mackenzie,
and ceased, not only to keep company with him, but even to speak to
him when they met. Mackenzie, in utter ignorance as to the cause
of the change which had so suddenly taken place in the conduct of
Clapperton towards him, after having puzzled and perplexed his mind
in conjecturing in what way he had given such deadly offence to his
friend, as to make him behave in the manner he was doing, at last
mustered courage, fairly to ask him, why he had of late treated him
with so much coldness and distance? On this, Clapperton, with his
feelings strongly excited, stated to his friend what had been said
among their shipmates, of the interested motives which had been
attributed to him, as the cause of what they had represented as
pretended friendship on his part. “But,” he added, “my dear Mackenzie,
I have been wrong to punish both myself and you, in listening to these
most false and injurious speeches. And henceforth let the best of them
beware how they use them in future; for the first man whom I detect
doing so, must do it at the risk of his life.” As this hint was pretty
publicly intimated on the part of Clapperton, his friendship for
Mackenzie suffered no interruption afterwards, so long as they served
together in the same ship. But the disease which he had caught returned
upon him again, and after causing him to linger for some time as an
invalid, he was sent to his friends, with little hope of his recovery;
nor indeed had he been long at home, till he died. While, however, he
lay upon his death-bed, he spoke with all the enthusiasm of sincere and
warm friendship, of the kind attentions he had received from Clapperton
when ill and far from home; and entreated his relations, and especially
his mother, to discharge the debt of gratitude which he owed him, by
treating him as a son, in requital of his having, so long as he had it
in his power, treated him as his brother.
We have not been able to obtain any satisfactory information respecting
the nature of the naval service in which Clapperton was employed
in India, nor of the exploits of seamanship and prowess which he
performed while he was on that station, except in one instance,
which is well worthy of being recorded to his honour. When we
stormed Port Louis, in the Isle of France, he was the first man who
advanced into the breach; and it was he who pulled down the colours
of France, and planted those of Britain in their place. And we know
that his conduct was in all respects worthy of the rank which he had
obtained in a manner so unique, and such as entitled him to expect
his turn of promotion in due course. He continued in India from the
early part of 1810 till the latter end of 1813, when he returned to
England. He had not been long at home, when he was draughted, along
with a select number of midshipmen, for the purpose of being sent to
Portsmouth, to be instructed by Angelo, the famous fencing-master,
in the cutlass exercise, with the view of introducing that mode of
defence and attack into the navy. These young men, when perfected in
the art, were distributed through the fleet, as teachers of the young
officers and men. Clapperton, being an apt pupil, soon excelled in this
exercise, and when his companions were distributed through the fleet as
drill-masters, he was sent to the Asia, the flag ship of Admiral Sir
Alexander Cochrane, then lying at Spithead.