after a return to the ocean, was finally engaged in
the Basque Roads. A page of his private log contains a lively resumé of
the whole experience:--
"The cruises of the Impérieuse were periods of continual excitement,
from the hour in which she hove up her anchor till she dropped it again
in port; the day that passed without a shot being fired in anger, was to
us a blank day: the boats were hardly secured on the booms than they
were cast loose and out again; the yard and stay tackles were forever
hoisting up and lowering down. The expedition with which parties
were formed for service; the rapidity of the frigate's movements night
and day; the hasty sleep snatched at all hours; the waking up at the
report of the guns, which seemed the only keynote to the hearts of those
on board, the beautiful precision of our fire, obtained by constant
practice; the coolness and courage of our captain, inoculating the whole
of the ship's company; the suddenness of our attacks, the gathering after
the combat, the killed lamented, the wounded almost envied; the
powder so burnt into our face that years could not remove it; the proved
character of every man and officer on board, the implicit trust and
adoration we felt for our commander; the ludicrous situations which
would occur in the extremest danger and create mirth when death was
staring you in the face, the hair-breadth escapes, and the indifference to
life shown by all--when memory sweeps along these years of
excitement even now, my pulse beats more quickly with the
reminiscence."
After some comparatively colourless service in other frigates, during
which he gained the personal familiarity with West Indian life of which
his novels show many traces, he completed his time as a midshipman,
and in 1812, returned home to pass. As a lieutenant his cruises were
uneventful and, after being several times invalided, he was promoted
Commander in 1815, just as the Great War was closing. He was now
only twenty-three, and had certainly received an admirable training for
the work with which he was soon to enchant the public. Though never
present at a great battle, and many good officers were in the same
position, he had seen much smart service and knew from others what
lay beyond his own experience. He evidently took copious notes of all
he saw and heard. He had sailed in the North Sea, in the Channel, in the
Mediterranean, and along the Eastern coast of America from Nova
Scotia to Surinam. He had been rapidly promoted.
It is tolerably obvious that, both as midshipman and lieutenant, he
evinced the cool daring and manly independence that characterises his
heroes, with a dash perhaps of Jack Easy's philosophy. It was a rough
life and he was not naturally amenable to discipline, but probably his
superiors made a favourite of the dashing handsome lad. The habit,
which helps to redeem Frank Mildmay and even graces Peter Simple,
of saving others from drowning, was always his own. His daughter
records, with pardonable pride, that he was presented while in the navy
with twenty-seven certificates, recommendations, and votes of thanks
for having saved the lives of others at the risk of his own, besides
receiving a gold medal from the Humane Society.
During the peace of 1815 he "occupied himself in acquiring a perfect
knowledge of such branches of science as might prove useful should
the Lords of the Admiralty think fit to employ him in a voyage of
discovery or survey." A vaguely projected expedition to Africa was,
however, relinquished on account of his marriage with "Catherine,
second daughter of Sir Stephen Shairp, Knt., of Houston, Co.
Linlithgow (for many years Her Britannic Majesty's Consul-General,
and twice chargé d'affaires at the court of Russia);" which took place in
January 1819. In this same year he was elected a Fellow of the Royal
Society, according to tradition on account of his skill in drawing
caricatures.
He was at sea again soon after his marriage as commander of the
Beaver sloop, in which commission he was sent to mount guard over
Napoleon at St Helena until his death. He took a sketch of the dead
emperor in full profile, which was engraved in England and France, and
considered a striking likeness. He was meanwhile no doubt perfecting
the code of signals for the use of merchant vessels of all nations,
including the cipher for secret correspondence, which was immediately
adopted, and secured to its inventor the Cross of the Legion of Honour
from Louis Philippe. It was not actually published in book form till
1837, from which date its sale produced an appreciable income.
After returning in the Rosario with the despatches concerning
Napoleon's death, he was sent to escort the body of
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