death, told his good deeds, for he strictly adhered to the beautiful doctrine laid down by the great Teacher, “But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth,”—“Quando ullum invenies parem?”
Of his first family, Charles, the eldest son, was intended for the bar, and was entered at Lincoln’s Inn, but from the natural sensitiveness of his disposition he never kept his terms, and soon gave up all thoughts of the profession; he lingered at home, a Westminster scholar, a man of extensive reading, and of great intelligence [as I have been informed, for I was much too young fully to appreciate him], till after many years, on Henry’s quitting Bermudas, he became the secretary to Sir James Cockburn, in which employment he continued some years, and only returned when Sir James ceased to be the governor. He then became a kind of superior clerk in the Marine office then held in Spring Gardens, and subsequently died at the age of about forty-five or forty-eight of consumption, a complaint of the mother’s family. Alfred went into the army as an ensign, was at the battle of Waterloo, was wounded there, was ordered and went subsequently to India with his regiment, the 14th Foot, where, years after, just as he had obtained a sick leave to return home, he was shot at Dinapoor, whilst reposing on his sofa, thinking probably, or dreaming of home and its affections, by a drunken Sepoy, mistaking him (in his mad excitement) for his servant, who had just previously refused him drink; the occurrence caused, necessarily, great excitement and much conversation at the time, the man was caught and hanged—a satisfaction to justice, but a wretched consolation to his family, by whom, as the youngest, and amiable as he was gentle, he was most fondly loved. His father and sister, I
believe, were never made acquainted with the true cause of his death. A letter of Henry’s relating, though indistinctly, for evident reasons, to the sad occurrence, will be placed before the reader. Harriet, as I have said, the only sister (who married a Dr. Leath, a physician in the army, who resides still at Bayswater) died not very long ago, leaving no issue.
Having given a sketch, which I think and hope will have interested the reader of him, from whom He sprung, whose life I am about to delineate. I will now proceed to depict the life of the Son, with the simple remark that I have undertaken a task of no slight difficulty (and much such an one as that of the poor Jews, who, under their hard taskmasters in Egypt, were set to make bricks without straw), with very slight materials to describe the life of one who died when I was sixteen, and whom I loved from his unvaried kindness to me, of the life of one who, had he lived, would have had a far abler biographer. Henry, in early life, took a propensity to and entered the navy, and was a midshipman in the battle of the Nile, but soon after, disliking the service, quitted the profession.
His education, when he returned from sea, was, through indulgence, neglected: and he passed most of his time at Oby Hall, in Norfolk, the then residence of his father, and distant about eight miles from Yarmouth, in shooting, fishing, and driving a tandem-cart about the country, built of unusual height; and an anecdote is related of him, that, after driving it awhile, he went to Mr. Clements, the builder at Norwich, and said, “Well, Clements, you have built a machine to surprise all the world, and I am come to surprise you by paying you for it.” And to show his early quick perception, ready reply, wilfulness, and
precocity, I must here relate two well-attested anecdotes: the first, when quite a child, and at his lessons in the nursery, on his mother’s running up to dispel the noise and disturbance he was making, she exclaimed in anger, after in some measure correcting him, “Why, sir, if you go on in this manner you’ll turn the house out of the windows,” the young gentleman, looking roguishly at his mother, responded, “How can I do that, Ma, for the house is bigger than the windows?” this of course dissipated all anger, and brought a smile to the mother’s face; silence, however, was restored and study resumed. The other, when he was about eleven or twelve years of age, a poor soldier, who had been kind to him, assisting him in his fishing, boating, &c., and who was at that time cleaning harness for my brother in the stable, was arrested by an escort of soldiers, who suddenly came to apprehend and convey him, for some alleged offence, to the head quarters at Yarmouth; without saying a word or leaving a message behind him, young Henry started off with his friend and the soldiers, telling the captive, “Never to care, for he would be his advocate.” He was, after some time had elapsed, missed; search was made for him in every direction till night came on, but no traces of his whereabouts could be discovered, and, with fearful anxiety, as I have heard my father often say, all, at last, worn out and weary with the fruitless search, retired to bed, but not to rest; care brooded over their pillows and dispelled sleep. Morning, at last, came, but with it no tidings of Henry; and, when alarm had reached its height, in ran the servant lad, in breathless haste, exclaiming, “Master Henry is found,” and soon after he was seen, being borne in triumph on a soldier’s back, with others following, coming up the lawn. All were delighted to see
the lost one safe, and, to delight was added astonishment, on a soldier putting into his father’s hand a letter, which was quickly opened and read, and which came from the commanding officer. I regret that letter is lost; it spoke, I have often heard my father and mother relate, in the highest terms of the youngster, and warmly congratulating the former on the possession of such a son, so noble in bearing, so bold, and so talented; adding, that he had pleaded the soldier’s case so well, that he had, so young an advocate as he was, obtained the acquittal of his client. As he grew up in years he was the pride and terror of the little farmers of the neighbourhood,—the first from his ready wit, playful, and genial disposition, which he ever retained; the latter from the practical jokes he was constantly in the habit of playing on them, many of which are remembered and spoken of at, and around Oby, up to the present day: and he had the love of all, for, if they wanted game, or any kindness done them, they had only to ask and have. But midst this he read, and he lacked not mental food to feed on, as his father possessed a large and well-stocked library. Henry’s reading, however, was necessarily desultory and discursive, but such the retention of his memory, that he forgot nothing he had once conned; as an instance of this I must relate an anecdote, often told of him by Mr. Jay, an attorney at Norwich, still living, and who was an excellent client, and a great admirer of my brother, that soon after large business flowed in upon him, and he went into court with a bag full of briefs; to his Mr. Jay’s utter astonishment, after a case had been called on, in which he was the attorney, and the several witnesses had been called, examined, and the cause gained, my brother, who had
led it, turned round, and said, “There Jay, I have won your cause, but I will be hanged if I know where your brief is; I read it, but somehow lost it.” He, of course, used blank paper for his notes. His perception, too, was so acute, his imagination so vivid, and his memory so retentive, that he could at once, and readily apply the knowledge so widely gleaned to the subject under discussion, that they who were ignorant of his previous mental instruction, would have imagined that he had, in earlier years, been the lean and diligent student, who had wasted the midnight oil in meditation and deep research.
After an interval of years, he became a member of Lincoln’s Inn, when in due course of time he was proposed by the late Mr. Justice, then James Allan Parke, Esquire, and called to the bar, May 25th, 1811. Soon after his call, he accompanied Sir James Cockburn, who had been just appointed governor of the Bermudas, as his secretary, and after a short period, on his arrival there, was made Attorney General, the duties of which office he for some years performed to the entire satisfaction of the governor. His letters thence, I have understood, contained beautiful and vivid descriptions of
“That happy island where huge lemons grow”