“Without a moment’s delay he plunged unto the surf, which three times carried him off his legs and sent him back on shore. Again he tried, and this time the sea drove him right against the wreck. The night was so dark that he had a hard matter to find out where the poor fellow was. At length he found a man clinging to the breastwork. The poor fellow told him that just before three men who had clung on until then had been washed away, and if he had come a few minutes sooner they might have been saved. As to swimming to shore, that he was certain was more than he could do. On this Sharman, taking the rope off himself, made it fast round the seaman’s waist, and shouted to Smith to haul in, while he himself trusted to his strong arms to hold onto the rope. They thus mercifully got safe to shore.”
A more appropriate spot than this could not have been fixed on for a monument to Nelson, who was born at Burnham Thorpe, of which his father, the Reverend Edmund Nelson, was rector. His mother was Catherine, daughter of Dr Suckling, Prebendary of Westminster, with one of whose sons, Captain Maurice Suckling, he first went to sea, on board the Raisonnable, of sixty-four guns. His education was obtained, first at the High School at Sanwich, and afterwards at North Walsham. After the misunderstanding with Spain had been settled, he left the Raisonnable, and was sent in a West Indian ship, commanded by a Captain Rathbone, who had been in the navy with his uncle. So great a dislike for the Royal Navy was instilled into him by the merchant seamen, that it was many weeks after he had joined the Triumph—to which on his return he had been appointed—before he became at all reconciled to remaining in it. How different might have been his lot had he not got over his prejudices though, wherever he might have been, he would have contrived to make his name known.
On leaving Nelson’s column, we proceeded along a road parallel with the river, having on our right the new barracks and on our left the Naval Hospital, which is placed in a fine airy situation, with the Denes in front and the sea beyond. It was here that Nelson, when the fleet came into Yarmouth, visited the poor wounded seamen, and going along the wards, spoke a kind word to each. It was by acts such as these that the admiral won the affection of his men, who
used to say of him, “Our Nel is as brave as a lion, and as gentle as a lamb.”
We presently found ourselves on the quays, running for a mile along the bank of the river, and which are considered equal to any in the kingdom. Opposite to us, on the south shore, a modern town has sprung up; and we here saw a number of vessels building, the chief of them, judging from their size, intended for the deep-sea fishery.
We had heard that Yarmouth was likened to a gridiron, and we now saw the reason. Comparatively few broad streets run north and south; they are, however, joined by one hundred and fifty or more narrow passages, called rows, which run east and west, like the bars of a gridiron. In many of them the houses project beyond their foundations, so that the inhabitants can almost shake hands with their opposite neighbours. Most of the rows are paved with pebbles brought up from the beach. Uncle Tom observed that the word “row” is probably derived from the French rue, a street. In many of them we observed curious pieces of old architecture. They are now numbered, but used to be called after the names of some of the principal inhabitants. One is called George and Dragon Row; and in it we noticed a somewhat tumbledown cottage, built in what is denominated the “herring-bone pattern;” the bones or frame being of wood placed in a zigzag fashion, filled up with masonry. Another row is Kitty Witches Row. One end is scarcely three feet wide. It is supposed that this row was inhabited by women, who used to go about at certain seasons of the year, dressed in fantastic fashions, to collect contributions. Yarmouth carts are formed probably after the model of the most ancient vehicles in the kingdom. They are long, narrow, and low, the wheels being placed under the seat, so as to occupy as little space as possible. The shafts are fastened to the axles, and two or three perpendicular pieces of wood—the hindermost being the longest—support the seat, on which a person can recline at his ease. It will thus be seen that wherever the horses can go, the cart can follow.
Passing a very fine Town Hall we reached the end of a remarkably handsome bridge, which unites Southtown to Yarmouth. We then turned to our right through some narrow roads; and having crossed a broad street, we found ourselves in an open space in front of the Church of Saint Nicholas, one of the largest parish churches in the kingdom. Turning back and passing the fine Fisherman’s Hospital, we entered the market-place, which occupies nearly three acres of land. About the centre of the market-place there are some smooth stones in the form of a cross, which mark the spot where the town cross once stood. It was formerly adorned with the pillory and stocks, but they have long disappeared. The freemen of the town
have the right of selling here free, with one stall. At the north end of the market is an avenue of lime-trees, which adds to its pleasant foreign appearance. In the yard of the Fisherman’s Hospital we saw a figure of Charity; and the cupola above is adorned by a statue of the Apostle Peter, who, in former days, was looked upon as the patron of fishermen.