A sailor's life under four sovereigns, Volume 1 (of 3)

[Sidenote: 1809. June 14.]

The baptismal certificate announces my birth at Earl’s Court, Kensington, on June 14, 1809.

It was only in 1820 I learnt from my sister, Mary, that three weeks after birth I was deposited in my father’s footpan to be interred in a garden at the back of the house, not being entitled to a berth in consecrated ground.

That mattered little, as before the final screwing down the old nurse discovered there was life in the “small thing.”

I was christened at Kensington. Henry, Lord Holland, became responsible for my sins, a similar kind act having been conferred by Charles James Fox upon my elder brother; after which I was removed to join the others at Quidenham.

[Sidenote: 1815.]

Later on I recollect the nurse trying to frighten us by saying “Boney was coming,” and how glad we children were when we heard of the defeat of that hero at Waterloo; accomplished, as I then believed, by my brother George, an Ensign in the 14th Foot!

[Sidenote: 1817.]

My dear mother died at Holkham in 1817.

[Sidenote: 1818.]

At the beginning of 1818 my younger brother Tom and I were sent to a school at Needham Market, kept by the Rev. James Wood, a short, muscular man, wearing knee-breeches and powdered hair. A nice wife and children; the latter played with us smaller boys. His brother, a merchant at Lisbon, used to send cases of oranges, which were stowed in the upper shelf of a large cupboard. When in the humour, the master chucked them to us from a ladder singly, giving lessons in catching.

From Portugal we had two schoolfellows, Francisco Nunes Sweezer Vizeu and Alvaro Lopes Pereira. They were kind to me, the smallest boy, and I have never forgotten them.

While there, a young man named Long, who was training for Holy Orders, came occasionally to read with Mr. Wood. He gave me a brass gun mounted on wheels, and a promise of sixpence if I would fire it off during school-time.

At my end of the table I arranged, with books, a screened battery, with the rear open; and then, under pretence of drying my slate at the fire, heated a wire, which was applied according to instructions. The explosion was loud; books flew in all directions; the gun bounded over my head and lost itself behind a row of books, where it remained until next half.

The master tore open his waistcoat to ascertain where he was shot, and then seized his cane; for some minutes I dodged under the table and over the stools, but caught it at last. I was unable to sit, and so went to bed.

My father had in his possession a letter from the Rev. James Wood, stating that I had fired a gun at him, and that “Mr. Thomas” had thrown a slate at his head divested of its frame!

The following half, as the warm weather approached, I succeeded in finding where the master kept his hair-powder, and with it mixed some finely pounded sugar. On coming into school, the flies soon found him, and as he got warm his head became black instead of white. This little game exceeded my expectations, as, irritated beyond endurance, he dismissed us from school. Among our playfellows was a Norfolk neighbour, Edward Gurdon, who sang well and tried to teach me!

[Sidenote: 1819.]

Our sister Sophia, who married Sir James Macdonald, lived not far from Needham. They drove over to take us to the launch of a ship at Aldborough. On the return journey, I in the gig, driven by the coachman following the phaeton, ran foul of a fish-cart, and broke the shaft. I was pitched on to the back of the horse, slipped down the trace, and found my way to the phaeton. The coachman had been taking his tea too strong.

At the back of the schoolhouse was a gable-end, up which a pear-tree had long before been trained. The trunk stood some six feet from the wall; a pathway which led to the stables ran parallel, on the outer side of which were pointed rails. On top of these, thin planks placed edgeways, up which jasmine was trained.

One afternoon a ball with which we had been playing lodged in the upper part of the gable-end. I succeeded in reaching the ball, when the branch gave way, and I descended with it in one hand and the ball in the other; the only things that partially checked my fall were the planks. I came down impaled on the spiked rails! A messenger was despatched to Quidenham; but there were plenty of us: nobody came.

We looked forward to our Christmas holidays. My father kept a pack of beagles, much to our delight as well as that of our neighbours, the Surtees and Partridges, both large families and sporting, who, with many others, made our meets very cheery.

Hares there were in plenty. We boys had clever ponies. Mine, Pio Mingo, was peculiar-looking--white, with black spots, bushy mane and tail; showed a good deal of the white of her eye. The like of her might have been found at Astley’s. Both ponies were undeniably clever at finding their way across ditches and through fences, and generally much nearer the hounds than pleased old Capes, the huntsman. Most of the hounds, while running, preferred the furrows to the open plough, as did Mingo, much to the grief of poor little Dancer, Rattler, and others.

But Mingo’s great dislike was a hat, which my elder brothers knew only too well. One Friday morning, after a continued frost, horses and hounds were brought out for an airing, and paraded in front of the house. Fancying that I knew the whereabouts of my brothers, I mounted Mingo in the stable, and was sneaking along so as to get near the protection of led horses.

At that moment, through a villa garden gate, appeared my Waterloo brother. He took off his hat as if to give Mingo a feed of corn. I gripped both mane and crupper, but the rattle of the whip inside the hat was too much. Instead of a somersault in the air, my left foot caught in the stirrup.

Away dashed Mingo, in among the horses, with me in tow. Inside the house old Henley pulled down the window-blinds, that my sisters might not see the expected end. The confusion was great; led horses got loose. I was eventually picked up senseless on a heap of straw and pheasant food under a tree. There was the deep cut of a horse’s tooth across the seat of the saddle--a saddle which had been given my brother George by the Princess Charlotte, and on which we boys had learned to ride.

On the Monday following I was again in the saddle, with a stiffish leg and a few bruises, but none the worse.

Most Norfolk butlers took pride in their breed of game-fowl, and old Henley considered his second to none. The best cocks went periodically to Newmarket, their performances watched with interest only inferior to that of the race-horses. Carrier-pigeons, too, he bred. On one occasion the birds, hatched from eggs brought from Newmarket, found their way back as soon as able to fly--not more curious than a dog carried in a hamper from Sussex to Scotland finding its way back to Goodwood in a couple of days!

Kenninghall Fair was an event for us children. Admiral Lukin, from Felbrig Hall, visited Quidenham at that time. He played the flute. The march across the park with drums and fifes was imposing. Not far from Felbrig we had another home at Lexham Hall, belonging to the Walpole-Keppels. The whole county appeared to work together except at election time, when Wodehouse opposed Coke.

[Sidenote: 1820.]

About this time my brother Tom and I were summoned to our father’s dressing-room, when he informed us that it was time we selected a profession. We both decided for the Navy. Father thought we should have separate professions. As we disagreed, I hit Tom in the eye, which he, being biggest, returned with interest. When we had had enough, father decided we should both be sailors.

Similar politics, somewhat Radical, had years ago brought the families of Coke and Keppel together, and we looked forward with pleasure to our periodical visits to Holkham. Mr. Coke had four daughters. The eldest died before my time; three had married peers--Andover, Rosebery, and Anson. Lady Andover, who was early a widow, married secondly, the good-looking and distinguished Captain Digby, who commanded the Africa at Trafalgar. Lady Anson had two handsome sons; one we called Tom, who afterwards became Lord Lichfield. He was descended from Lord Anson who commanded the Centurion and sailed round the world. On board was Augustus Keppel, a midshipman, afterwards Lord Keppel.

[Sidenote: George IV.]

There was a younger son, William, in the Navy, whom I met later. Eliza Anson became Lady Waterpark, and her sister Frederica married the Earl of Wemyss and March. Mr. Coke had a younger daughter, Elizabeth; she likewise was charming, and managed the domestic part of the house. In 1822 she married Mr. Spencer Stanhope.

[Sidenote: 1821. July 13.]

Among Mr. Coke’s intimate friends was Sir Francis Burdett; in fact, Holkham was the centre of the leading Whigs of the day. Sir Francis had been liberated from prison, where he had been confined for exciting a mob, as well as for writing a pamphlet on the trial of Queen Caroline, on the strength of which a party assembled to meet him at Holkham.

After a sojourn there it was arranged that the party should adjourn to Quidenham. There was great excitement throughout the country about the trial.

Being short I was told off to go with Sir Francis, so as not to obstruct the view of the hero. The travelling carriages of those days were light; no box or driving-seat, splashboard only, the body hung on C-springs; four horses and postboys.

At Fakenham the populace were prepared; horses were taken off, and Sir Francis was, much to my delight, drawn through the river. The same fun was repeated at Dereham, where we met the Duke of Sussex, changing four posters at the King’s Arms, His Royal Highness likewise on his way to Quidenham. We also stopped for refreshments. Outside the inn was great cheering, and cries for “the Queen and her rights.”

After a short stay at Quidenham the party broke up, and I saw Sir Francis start on a ride to London, calling at Euston, a journey of nearly a hundred miles.