Rodney Stone | Page 2

himself, and of George, afterwards
the unworthy King of England; if, above all, you would see my famous
uncle, Sir Charles Tregellis, the King of the Bucks, and the great
fighting men whose names are still household words amongst you, then
give me your hand and let us start.
But I must warn you also that, if you think you will find much that is of
interest in your guide, you are destined to disappointment. When I look

over my bookshelves, I can see that it is only the wise and witty and
valiant who have ventured to write down their experiences. For my
own part, if I were only assured that I was as clever and brave as the
average man about me, I should be well satisfied. Men of their hands
have thought well of my brains, and men of brains of my hands, and
that is the best that I can say of myself. Save in the one matter of
having an inborn readiness for music, so that the mastery of any
instrument comes very easily and naturally to me, I cannot recall any
single advantage which I can boast over my fellows. In all things I have
been a half-way man, for I am of middle height, my eyes are neither
blue nor grey, and my hair, before Nature dusted it with her powder,
was betwixt flaxen and brown. I may, perhaps, claim this: that through
life I have never felt a touch of jealousy as I have admired a better man
than myself, and that I have always seen all things as they are, myself
included, which should count in my favour now that I sit down in my
mature age to write my memories. With your permission, then, we will
push my own personality as far as possible out of the picture. If you
can conceive me as a thin and colourless cord upon which my would-be
pearls are strung, you will be accepting me upon the terms which I
should wish.
Our family, the Stones, have for many generations belonged to the
navy, and it has been a custom among us for the eldest son to take the
name of his father's favourite commander. Thus we can trace our
lineage back to old Vernon Stone, who commanded a high-sterned,
peak-nosed, fifty-gun ship against the Dutch. Through Hawke Stone
and Benbow Stone we came down to my father, Anson Stone, who in
his turn christened me Rodney, at the parish church of St. Thomas at
Portsmouth in the year of grace 1786.
Out of my window as I write I can see my own great lad in the garden,
and if I were to call out "Nelson!" you would see that I have been true
to the traditions of our family.
My dear mother, the best that ever a man had, was the second daughter
of the Reverend John Tregellis, Vicar of Milton, which is a small parish
upon the borders of the marshes of Langstone. She came of a poor
family, but one of some position, for her elder brother was the famous
Sir Charles Tregellis, who, having inherited the money of a wealthy
East Indian merchant, became in time the talk of the town and the very

particular friend of the Prince of Wales. Of him I shall have more to say
hereafter; but you will note now that he was my own uncle, and brother
to my mother.
I can remember her all through her beautiful life for she was but a girl
when she married, and little more when I can first recall her busy
fingers and her gentle voice. I see her as a lovely woman with kind,
dove's eyes, somewhat short of stature it is true, but carrying herself
very bravely. In my memories of those days she is clad always in some
purple shimmering stuff, with a white kerchief round her long white
neck, and I see her fingers turning and darting as she works at her
knitting. I see her again in her middle years, sweet and loving, planning,
contriving, achieving, with the few shillings a day of a lieutenant's pay
on which to support the cottage at Friar's Oak, and to keep a fair face to
the world. And now, if I do but step into the parlour, I can see her once
more, with over eighty years of saintly life behind her, silver-haired,
placid-faced, with her dainty ribboned cap, her gold-rimmed glasses,
and her woolly shawl with the blue border. I loved her young and I love
her old, and when she goes she will take something with her which
nothing in the world can ever make good to me again. You may have
many friends, you who read this, and you may chance to marry