With the village itself, I was equally well pleased. Though containing few houses, it was delightfully pleasant. Fine farms, with large flocks of quiet sheep grazing on their hill-sides; expansive fields, surrounded with fragrant hawthorn hedges; and old farm-houses, with their thatched roofs, and massive wheat ricks, met the pleased eye on all sides; while cultivated gardens and numerous wild flowers, especially the modest cowslip and humble violet, scented the air and perfumed the breeze. Thus far, perhaps, Bladen was equal to Wanstead; but in its moral aspects it was inferior. There was far less regard for the Sabbath; less attention to the moral culture of the young, than at the latter place. That blessed institution, which has vivified and renewed the church, which has filled her with the vigorous pulsations of youth—from which, as from some prolific nursery, she has obtained the plants, which now stand on her mountain-tops like the tall cedars of Lebanon—the modest, unassuming Sabbath school was not there. Consequently, the Sabbath was spent in roaming about the fields, in amusements, in visiting, in taking excursions to a place called Ramsden, some seven miles distant. True, there was a parish church, with two clergymen belonging to its altars, but there was service only once every Sunday within its ancient walls. During Lent, however, both priests and people were more religious; the church was better attended; the children were examined as to their knowledge of the church catechism! They were even excited to diligence in committing it to memory by the inducement of reward. A Bible and two prayer books were given to the lads who excelled in answering the questions. At the first Lent examination after my coming to Bladen, the Bible, the highest prize, was awarded to me, and the second year the minister assigned me the task of hearing the others recite—a striking proof of the benefit of Sunday school instruction; it gave me both a moral and mental superiority over all my compeers in the little village of Bladen. This special attention to religion only lasted during the term of Lent; when, with a return to the use of meat, the people returned to the neglect of the Sabbath.
The inhabitants of Bladen were very social in their habits. They held an annual feast, called Bladen feast, to which they invited their friends from other towns; it commenced on Sabbath and continued three days. Eating, drinking, talking, fortune-telling, gambling, occupied three days of wassail and jollity; after which the visitors returned to their respective towns, and the people to their occupations. The neighboring villages gave similar feasts in their turn. They were occasions of much evil and folly.
My time flew very rapidly and pleasantly away for two or three years, until, like most children, I began to sigh for deliverance from the restraints of home. I had already left school, and for some time, being now about thirteen years of age, had been employed in the pleasure-grounds of Blenheim Palace. This, however, was too tame a business for a lad of my spirits. I had heard tales of the sea from my cousins; my mother had filled my mind with the exploits of my grandfather; my imagination painted a life on the great deep in the most glowing colors; my mind grew uneasy; every day, my ordinary pursuits became more and more irksome, and I was continually talking about going to sea; indeed, I had made myself unhappy by being so discontented.
Little do lads and young men know of the difference between the comfort of a parent’s roof and the indifference, unkindness, and trouble they invariably experience, who go out into the world, until they have made the experiment. They paint everything in bright colors; they fancy the future to be all sunshine, all sweets, all flowers, but are sure to be wofully disappointed, when once away from the fireside of their infancy. Let me advise young people, if they wish to escape hardships, to be contented, to remain quietly at home, abiding the openings of Providence, obeying the wishes of their parents, who not only have their best good at heart, but, however they may think to the contrary, actually know what is most for their advantage.
My passion for a seaman’s life was not a little increased by a soldier, who was sergeant to a company in Lord Francis Spencer’s regiment of cavalry. Seated by my father’s hearth-side, this old soldier, who had once been a sailor, would beguile many an evening hour with his endless tale, while I sat listening in enrapt attention. My mother, too, heedlessly fanned the flame by her descriptions of the noble appearance of the ships she had seen when at Brighton. Besides this, a footman at Blenheim House used to sing a song called “the poor little sailor boy;” which, although somewhat gloomy in its descriptions, only served to heighten the flame of desire within me, until I could think of nothing else, day or night, but of going to sea.
Finding my desires so strong, my kind-hearted mother mentioned them to Lady Spencer. Just at that time, her brother, Lord William Fitzroy, who was then expecting the command of a frigate, and with whom my departed father had lived as valet, happened to visit Blenheim, previously to going to sea. Anxious to serve my mother, Lady Spencer mentioned me to Lord Fitzroy. He sent for me. Trembling in every joint, I was ushered into his presence. He inquired if I should like to go to sea. “Yes, my lord, I should,” was my ready answer. He dismissed me, after some further questionings; but was heard to say, before he left, that he would take me under his care, and see to my future advancement.
These dazzling prospects not only well nigh turned my brain, but decided my parents to send me to sea. To have their son an officer in the navy was an unlooked-for honor; and they now entered into my plans and feelings with almost as much ardor as myself. Alas! We were all doomed to learn how little confidence can be placed in the promises of nobles!
Not long after Lord Fitzroy’s departure, we received a letter stating the fact of his appointment to his majesty’s frigate Macedonian, which, being out of dock, was rapidly preparing for sea. This intelligence was the signal for bustle, excitement, preparation, and I know not what. Friends and gossips constantly crowded in to administer their gratuitous advice; some predicting, to my infinite delight, that certainly so smart a boy would make a great man; others wore very grave countenances, and gave certain expressive shrugs of the shoulders, while they told of flogging through the fleet, or of being “seized up” for merely a look or a word; in short, but for a strong conviction in my own breast that this was all said for effect, it is doubtful whether they would not have succeeded in deterring me from my purpose.
At last, after much ado, the long-expected day arrived when I was to bid farewell to home and friends, to venture abroad upon an unknown future. It would only vex the reader by its commonplace character, or I would reveal all the nice little acts of parental, brotherly and neighborly affection which took place. Suffice it to say, that my parting was very much the same as that of all other boys of twelve, when they leave home for the first time—a mixture of hopes and fears, of tears and smiles, of sunshine and cloud.
Attended by my mother and her infant daughter, on the 12th day of July, 1810, I turned my back on the quiet hamlet of Bladen. Henceforth my lot was to be cast amid noise, dissipation, storms and danger. This, however, disturbed my mind but little; brushing away a tear, I leaped gaily on to the outside of the coach, and in a few minutes, enveloped in a cloud of dust, was on my way to London, filled with the one absorbing idea, “I am going to sea! I am going to sea!” Should the reader take the trouble to read the following chapters, he will learn the mishaps, hardships, pleasures and successes that befell me there; and though my narrative may not be filled with the witching tales, and romantic descriptions, that abound in the works of the novelist, it shall at least commend itself to his notice for its truthfulness.