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.”
