Chapter II: Part 2

“We have commenced our journey, and find travelling very pleasant. We find it very cold, particularly in the mornings and evenings—a circumstance which obliges us to wrap ourselves up the same as in your northern regions. Our company is a very large one; it consists of nearly 300 men, of whom 200 are Arabs sent for our safety. I would have been better pleased to have had none, as the road is free from danger, and the people no way to be dreaded. We have never, thank God, had had any thing to fear—our path has been smooth. With good conduct, I expect our dangers will be few, some hardships must, doubtless, be encountered, but where can we be without them? The people here are mostly Teboos, a different race from the natives of Fezzan. Some of the women have very pretty countenances and a lively expression. I have just been witnessing some of their dances, which are really very chaste and pleasing. They want the spirit of your reels, and resemble the movements of a minuet. There is something smooth and sweet in the songs that always accompany these performances, but the instrumental music is grating to the ears. We leave this to-morrow; it is the joyful period we have long looked forward to. We go under most propitious auspices, and all, I trust, will be well.

TO THE SAME.

“_Kuka, Kingdom of Bornou, April 2_, 1823.

“I dare say you begin to fear, but you have no reason, for we are all as safe as you are. We arrived here a month ago, and were received in the most flattering manner. Several thousand horsemen were sent out to conduct us to town. The sheikh was very kind, and has continued so ever since. He is the chief man; the sultan is nothing. The climate is very hot, and the heat will continue till the rains set in, which will not be for three months yet. The heat at present is about the same as it is at the hottest season in Fezzan. The inhabitants are two distinct races—the black and the copper-coloured. The former are Bornouese, and the latter are ———. We have found them both very obliging. Our journey here was pleasant, but it was over a dreary country. It yields no grass, and the wells are several days’ journey from each other. Few animated beings are to be seen in these deserts, and, unless for the purposes of gain, they are shunned by man. I have been rather unwell myself, but, thank God, I am now nearly well, and intend setting out on an excursion through Bornou, in three or four days. I had a slight fever and a troublesome cough which is now better. In our excursion I do not expect to see much that is interesting, as all the country we have passed over is much the same. There are often thickets of trees with grass, which is all dried up. Near the town there are many open spaces, on account of the trees having been cut down for firewood. Near a great lake called Spad, elephants, hippopotami, and antelopes are met with in great numbers; my friend Clapperton has shot a great many of the latter. He is quite an enthusiast in the chase, and has been very successful. He enjoys the best of health, and is as stout as ever. This is far from being a disagreeable country, but it is deficient in fruit and vegetables—a circumstance we did not expect so far to the southward, and which we feel as a great privation in a warm climate. We have provisions in abundance, especially fowls and sheep, the latter being very cheap,—40[1] for a dollar—a vast difference from what you must pay for your mutton. Still there is not that comfort in living here that you experience; and although you must pay more for some of the articles you use, yet, perhaps, you live cheaper than we can. There are no great beauties among the females of this place, yet many of them have pleasing countenances. All of them have their hair done up in a peculiar manner, which must require great patience and labour. They have among them four or five different fashions, each however adheres to her own, and it serves to distinguish the town to which she belongs, and the race from which she is descended; and so these African fashions may have continued many generations without change. It is quite a different thing with your fashionables, who must have something new every month. The dress is very simple, being merely a piece of blue calico, which comes up nearly to the shoulders, and a similar portion that passes over the head. Beads are a common ornament; you do not see a single female without them, and the rich have broad girdles, which they take care every now and then to show.

TO THE SAME.

“_Kuka, July 14_, 1823.

“Since I wrote you last I have got very little new to communicate. But you will be glad to hear that my health is now much improved. I have been travelling about during the last six weeks, for the purpose of visiting the different places of importance; and I have reason to be well pleased with the treatment I have everywhere experienced; all have been civil—kind. There is indeed very little left for me to desire, every thing having so far exceeded my expectations. The sheikh Canmi, governor of Bornou, has been like a father, granting every indulgence, and showing every kindness. At the end of the rains I hope to go into Soudan, to make discoveries there, the people are good, and the country very interesting. Our houses are not waterproof like yours. They are little round places of mud with straw roofs. There are neither stones nor lime in the whole kingdom, so that large substantial houses cannot be built for want of materials. The streets are frequently knee-deep with water from the rain of a few hours. The thunder is awful, but the lightning seldom does any damage. There are very few poisonous animals, and noxious insects are very rare. I think, if every thing turns out as I expect, I shall be home in little more than a year. I have nothing to dread, and have never had a wakeful night from fear.”

It would be an easy matter for a severe critic to point out many incorrect expressions in these letters, as it is obvious they were all written off-hand amid the hurry and anxiety of the avocations connected with the mission, and certainly never meant to meet the public eye. But, we think, they cannot be perused without producing a deep impression that their author was devotedly attentive to the performance of his public duties—that he possessed a sanguine temperament and a well-informed mind—and that his heart was actuated by a sense of the obligations of friendship, and the kindly feeling of fraternal affection. With regard to this latter sentiment, indeed, it is quite clear, from that portion of the letters to his sister which—as relating entirely to private and confidential matters—has been suppressed, that his anxiety for the welfare of his relatives was never absent from his thoughts, and that the desire to afford them protection, and to minister to their comfort, was the constant and powerful stimulant to his exertions. The substance of the second of his letters to professor Jameson was printed in the volume published by Denham and Clapperton, giving an account of the result of the mission in which they, along with Dr. Oudney, had been sent. The first letter to the professor, however, contains original matter, as well as the most of those to his sister; and had he lived to return home, and reduce his _memoranda_ to a state fit for publication, we have reason to believe that he would have greatly enlarged our knowledge of Africa. The Doctor and Clapperton set out towards Soudan about the middle of December 1823, while Major Denham went on an exploratory excursion in another direction; and while engaged in its prosecution, he received a short note from Dr. Oudney. It was brought from Katagum. “It had no date, and was indeed his last effort. The acknowledgment of being weak and helpless,” says Major D., “assured me that he was really so; for, during the whole of his long sufferings, a complaint had scarcely ever escaped his lips. On the Shiekh’s saying to him, when he first expressed his wish to accompany the _Kafila_, ‘surely your health is not such as to risk such a journey?’ he merely replied, ‘why, if I stay here I shall die, and probably sooner, as travelling always improves my health.’ This letter, though short, expresses great satisfaction at the treatment he had met with on his journey, and also from the inhabitants of the country.”[2] Captain Clapperton’s letter to Mr. Consul Warrington, dated Kano, 2d February, 1824, contains the last scene of this mournful history.

“The melancholy task has fallen to me to report to you the lamented death of my friend Dr. Walter Oudney. We left Kuka on the 14th day of December 1823, and by easy journies arrived at Bedukarfea, the westmost town in the kingdom of Bornou; during this part of the journey, he was recovering strength very fast, but on leaving Bedukarfea and entering the Beder territory on the night of the 26th, and morning of the 27th, we had such an intense cold that the water was frozen in the dishes, and the water-skins were as hard as beards. Here the poor Doctor got a severe cold, and continued to grow weaker every day. At this time he told me that when he left Kuka, he expected his disorder would allow him to perform all his country expected of him, but that now his death was near, and required me to deliver his papers to Lord Bathurst, and to say he wished Mr. Barrow might have the arrangement of them, if agreeable to his Lordship. On the 2d of January, 1824, we arrived at the city of Katagum, where we remained till the 10th, partly to see if the Doctor, by staying a few days, would gain a little strength to enable him to pursue his journey. On leaving Katagum he rode a camel as he was too weak to ride his horse. We proceeded on our road for ten miles that day, and then halted; and, on the following day five miles further, to a town called Murmur. On the morning of the 12th, he ordered the camels to be loaded at day-light, drank a cup of coffee, and I assisted him to dress. When the camels were loaded, with the assistance of his servant and I, he came out of the tent. I saw then that the hand of death was upon him, and that he had not an hour to live. I begged him to return to his tent and lay himself down, which he did, and I sat down beside him; he expired in about half an hour after.

“I sent immediately to the governor of the town to acquaint him with what had happened, and to desire he would point out a spot where I might bury my friend, and also to have people to watch the body and dig the grave, which was speedily complied with. I had dead cloths made from some turbans that were intended as presents, and as we travelled as Englishmen and servants of his Majesty, I considered it my most indispensable duty to read the service of the dead over the grave, according to the rites of the Church of England, which happily was not objected to, but, on the contrary, I was paid a good deal of respect for so doing. I then bought two sheep, which were killed and given to the poor, and I had a clay wall built round the grave, to preserve it from beasts of prey.” It is added to this account (inserted in the “Narrative,” &c.) of the death and funeral, substantially the same as that given above, that “Thus died Walter Oudney, M.D., a man of unassuming deportment, pleasing manners, stedfast perseverance, and undaunted enterprise; while his mind was fraught at once with knowledge, virtue, and religion,”—a statement which accurately describes his character. In personal appearance, we may remark, that in stature he was of the middle size, slightly made, with a pale complexion, and grave and benevolent expression of countenance.

It will naturally be asked—since Dr. Oudney was of a temper of mind so active and enterprising, as well as possessed of so much physical science—why he has contributed so little to the elucidation of the central parts of Africa which he visited? We are sorry we are unable to solve this problem, having found it impossible to obtain any farther information on the subject than is contained in the volume of Travels, published (1826) in the name of the three persons who formed the mission, namely, Denham, Clapperton, and Oudney. Denham, in speaking of the materials of the volume in question says, that the only papers of Oudney’s placed in his hands, were “an itinerary from Mourzuk to Bornou,” and “An excursion to the westward of Mourzuk.” The latter is printed at the end of the “Introductory Chapter;” but of the former, only a few mineralogical notes are given. There is not a doubt, however, but that a vast mass of materials illustrative of the districts visited, were collected by Dr. Oudney, although it is now impossible to say what has become of them. Mr. Barrow asserts that he was labouring under a pectoral complaint when he left England; and that the disorder was increased by this journey to Ghaat, and he would thereby insinuate that, during the greater part of the time he lived in Africa, he was rendered unfit, by bodily weakness, for keeping regular journals. Now, none of his most intimate friends had the least suspicion that he was troubled with any disease of the breast. His chest, instead of being contracted, was broad and ample; and, in ascending the hills of his native land, and the equally difficult common stairs of Edinburgh, the lightness of his figure, and the activity of his habits, always enabled him to outrun the longest-winded, and the supplest-jointed of his companions; and certainly nothing mentioned in the letters which we have published would lead to the inference that he did not enjoy the most perfect health till after he had been a considerable length of time in Bornou. It is likewise quite clear that he was not of a character to neglect any duty which the situation in which he was placed imposed upon him; and so we repeat, that a great deal of valuable information must have been collected by him, although it is to be feared it is now irrecoverably lost. It is to be regretted, moreover, that his premature death rendered the term of his service too short to warrant government to make some provision for his sisters, now orphans, and one of them in a bad state of health.

* * * * *
MEMOIR
OF
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
THE
AFRICAN TRAVELLER.
* * * * *

MEMOIR
OF
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
THE
AFRICAN TRAVELLER.

* * * * *

SECTION I.—INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

The life of Captain Hugh Clapperton, who died in his second attempt to explore the interior of Africa, was short, but very eventful. Not only did he possess a frame and constitution, both of body and mind, well fitted for a career of active exertion and romantic enterprise; but from the day of his birth to that of his death, it was his lot to endure, with almost no interruption, a painful succession of hardships and privations, or to be engaged in scenes and pursuits of a nature so perilous as to put existence itself in constant and imminent jeopardy. And had any record of these things been kept, either by himself or by any one else, who might chance to know even a tithe of the manifold dangers to which he was exposed, and the bold, and sometimes rash enterprises in which he was engaged, a narrative might thence have been composed, all true to the letter, and yet as full of wonderful and diversified incident, as well as of fearless and daring action, as ever flowed from the pen of the most creative genius in fictitious history—all modified by the child-like simplicity and generous nobleness of heart, combined with unbending integrity, unshrinking courage, and indomitable fortitude, in the character of him, whose fortunes in life they formed, and whose achievements in the discharge of duty they exhibited. But no such record was kept, except, while he lived, in our hero’s own retentive memory; and therefore, now that he is dead, some of the most marvellous passages of his life must remain in the deep oblivion in which they have been buried. We are assured by the friends with whom he lived in the closest intimacy, that when, like Othello, he was questioned respecting the story of his life from year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, that he had past; he would, with a fine flow of good humour, and an interesting detail of particulars, run it through even from his boyish days, down to the time when he was desired to tell it; and then, like the enamoured Moor, it was his hint to speak of most disastrous chances,

Of moving accidents by flood or field;

Of hair-breadth ’scapes in the imminent deadly breach;

Of being taken by the insolent foe,

And sold to slavery; of his redemption thence,

With all his travel’s history.

But these narratives of his adventures were given by Clapperton for the sole end of entertaining his friends when they met for the mere purpose of social intercourse and convivial enjoyment; and, therefore, those friends can now give but a very indistinct account of what “by parcels they had something heard,” without any intention of detailing it again, unless in the same way and for the same purpose it had been told to themselves. Hence the early and professional life of our traveller can never be well known, except that part of it which he has embodied in the published journals of his expeditions to Africa. And not only are the incidents of his life during the time he was a sailor imperfectly known, but even of those parts of it respecting which we have obtained some vague information, we have different versions of the same story considerably at variance with one another; so that, amid their discrepancy, it is difficult to select the facts and circumstances relative to the life of our hero which are genuine and free from defect on the one side, and exaggeration on the other. No memoir of his life has yet appeared at all worthy of him. We have seen in one periodical an atrocious libel upon his memory, the emanation evidently of a mean and malignant spirit. Any newspaper notices of him which have been printed are meagre in the extreme; and the “Short Sketch” which is prefixed to the “Journal of his Second Expedition,” and purporting to be the work of his uncle, a colonel of marines, although the best account of him which has yet appeared, contains exceedingly little that is really interesting. Such being the lack of materials, we regret much that we shall not be able to produce a “Memoir” adequate to the subject; but we can assure our readers that we have used all diligence to obtain the most accurate and ample information which can now be had, and shall therefore proceed to submit it to their candid consideration.

SECT. II.—HIS PARENTAGE AND EARLY MISFORTUNES.

In one of the short notices which have been published of the traveller’s life, it is stated that the “family of Clapperton is ancient, and not without celebrity in the north of Scotland. The name,” it is added, “has been distinguished both in the church and in the field; and in proof of this we are told that a Bishop Clapperton is buried in the island called Inchcolm, in the Firth of Forth; while another individual of the same name is mentioned in the history of Sweden as having been a field-marshall in the army of that country. We cannot tell whether the prelate or the soldier is to be regarded as belonging to the family whence the African traveller was descended; but it unquestionably was highly respectable, both in point of antiquity and of its station in society. His grandfather, Robert Clapperton, was a doctor of medicine, whose professional studies were pursued by him first at the University of Edinburgh, and afterwards among the hospitals in Paris. On his return to his own country he married Miss Elizabeth Campbell, a near relation of Campbell of Glenlyon, and settled at the town of Lochmaben, in Dumfries-shire, as a medical practitioner. He is said to have been a good classical scholar, and much attached to the study of antiquity; and while he excelled in the tracing of genealogies, in the collecting of coins and songs, with the view of illustrating border history, he was highly esteemed as a skilful physician. He had two sons, the younger of whom chose the army as his profession, and is now a lieutenant-colonel of marines; but George, the elder of the two, adopted that of his father; and having previously obtained an adequate professional education, he settled as a surgeon in the town of Annan, Dumfries-shire. He was long the only medical practitioner of repute in that place; and the numerous operations and cures which he performed proved the means both of increasing his practice and extending his fame. While still young, he married a daughter of Johnstone of Thornythwaite, by whom he had fourteen children, Hugh, who afterwards became the African traveller, being the tenth. The mother of this numerous family, who is described as beautiful, amiable and accomplished, died in the thirty-ninth year of her age, leaving behind her seven sons and a daughter, Hugh being the youngest of these surviving sons, and consequently a mere infant. And to enhance the greatness of the bereavement which he had sustained in the loss of his mother, his father speedily afterwards married a second wife, whom his friends regarded as a woman of inferior station to that which he and his family occupied. At the time when this second marriage took place, most of the sons had left their father’s house, to engage elsewhere in the active pursuits of life, and the girl had been taken away by her mother’s relations; but the subject of this memoir and some of his younger brothers, were left at home to encounter the stern control of a stepmother—a species of government at best far from being desirable, but in the case of the young Clappertons, rendered peculiarly arbitrary and despotic, from the concurrence of a variety of incidental circumstances. In the first place, their stepmother, conscious that she was deemed by the friends of the family an unsuitable match for their father, must have been haunted incessantly by a feeling, not at all likely to soothe and sweeten her temper, or fitted to dispose her to regard the children of the former marriage with any considerable degree of complacency; by a feeling not likely to lead her to watch over such of them as were subject to her management with any very vigilant attention, to make her extremely solicitous about their comfort or improvement, or to visit them with a treatment any way marked by kind and tender affection. In the second place, she soon had children of her own, and these, by degrees, increased, till they amounted to the number of seven; and it will readily be allowed, that her own offspring were naturally fitted more strongly to engage her affections and to engross her solicitude, than those children with whom she had only an adventitious relationship. And in the third place, it would appear that Dr. Clapperton himself, the father of the African traveller, was not by any means so attentive to the interests of his immense family as he ought to have been; for his brother, the colonel, says of him, “He might have made a fortune, but unfortunately he was, like his father, careless of money;” and we believe the fact cannot be denied; nor, moreover, can it be disguised that the condition into which he fell in his latter days was owing, partly at least, to a culpable neglect of his professional duties.[3] When, therefore, it is considered that as his father advanced in years, his circumstances in life so much declined, as at last to reduce him into a state of abject indigence,—while at the same time his family was constantly increasing in number, and that it was the melancholy lot of our traveller to lose his mother in his infancy, and so scarcely ever to have had the happiness to experience the soothing and heart-impressive influence of maternal tenderness and maternal care, but, on the contrary, to be placed at that tender age under the care and control of a stepmother,—it will be abundantly obvious that his life commenced under the most unpropitious auspices that can well be imagined.

SECT. III.—HIS BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES.

He was born in the year 1788, and was, as we have seen, soon after placed under the charge of a stepmother, by whom it is said he was not only neglected, but treated with harshness and cruelty; and hence throughout his life stepmothers were regarded by him with a feeling of unconquerable horror.[4] The accounts which he occasionally gave his companions of the sufferings of his youth, arising from the causes which have been specified, were appalling. In reference to them, an enemy, who, however, seems to have been in possession of accurate information on the subject, says, that while a schoolboy, “the climate of Lapland and that of Timbuctoo alternated several times in the course of a day—a species of seasoning, or rather _case-hardening_, that must go far to render him invulnerable on the sultry banks of the Joliba.” And one of the most intimate of his friends thus speaks of them in a letter now before us: “How can the hardships and privations of his early life be touched upon without hurting the feelings of relatives? These had much better be buried in oblivion, although they tended to form the man hardy and self-denying.” When he was a boy, he was nearly drowned in the Annan; and on that occasion he used to say, that he felt as if a calm and pleasing sleep was stealing over his senses, and thought that gay and beautifully painted streamers were attached to his legs and arms, and that thereby he was buoyed out into the sea; but he always declared that he experienced no pain until efforts were making to restore him to a state of animation. At this time he was an expert swimmer, having been previously taught that useful art by his brothers; but he had exhausted his strength by continuing too long in the water. When the alarm of his danger was given by some one to his father, he hastened to the spot, plunged in, and found his son in a sitting posture in very deep water.

Among the injuries of his early life, that of a neglected education was none of the least. He was taught the ordinary acquirements of reading, writing, and arithmetic, which are generally imparted to the lowest classes of the Scottish youth; but he was never initiated into a knowledge of the classic authors of Greece and Rome. Under Mr. Bryce Downie, however, a celebrated teacher of geometry in the town of Annan, he acquired a practical knowledge of mathematics, including navigation and trigonometry, and afterwards, by means of his own application, he acquired many other branches of useful and ornamental knowledge, and excelled especially in drawing.[5]

He very early discovered a strong propensity for this latter accomplishment, so that, with the aid of a few instructions from his father, who excelled in the knowledge of geography, he could sketch a map of Europe, while still a child in frocks, with chalk on the floor. His love of foreign travel and romantic adventure, were likewise very soon manifested in the delight which he took in listening to his father, while he pointed out the likely situation of the “North West passage” to him and his brothers on the globe; in the enthusiasm which he displayed, when told by his father that he might be the destined discoverer of that long sought for route from Europe to Eastern Asia; and also in the avidity with which he devoured books of voyages and travels of all descriptions whenever they fell in his way.

The circumstance of his entering upon a seafaring life is variously reported. By one account we are assured that his situation at home being so unpleasant, he became so thoroughly disgusted with his father’s house, that he left it clandestinely, and went on board the first vessel in the harbour of Annan that was willing to receive him. By his anonymous and unfriendly biographer, it is said that he was promoted to the rank of an apprentice to a coasting sloop of Maryport, commanded by Captain John Smith, and that soon afterwards he was again promoted to the rank of cook’s mate on board his majesty’s tender in the harbour of Liverpool. His uncle’s account, in the sketch of his life prefixed to the Journal of his Second African Expedition, is, that on leaving Mr. Downie, at the age of thirteen, he was, by his own desire, bound an apprentice to the owner of a vessel of considerable burden trading between Liverpool and North America: that after making several voyages in that vessel, he either left her or was impressed into his Majesty’s service, and put on board the tender lying at Liverpool. It is clear, from all these accounts, that Captain Clapperton commenced his naval career as a common sailor boy—a situation which implies hard duty and rough usage; yet, as is testified by the following well authenticated anecdote, this, with all he had previously endured, was unable to break his spirit, or to subdue the dignified feelings of a noble nature. As soon as he had joined the trading vessel in which he first sailed, he was told that one piece of duty which he had to perform on board was to brush his captain’s boots and shoes. This he positively refused to do, adding, that he was most willing to take his full share of the hardest work which belonged to the loading, the unloading, or the working of the ship; but to the menial drudgery of cleaning boots and shoes he certainly would not submit. After he had for a short time served on board several trading vessels, he was impressed into his Majesty’s service at Liverpool; and in 1806 he was sent to Gibraltar in a navy transport.[6] The idea, however, of having been placed on board a man-of-war by force, and retained there as a prisoner, was so galling to his nature—to a spirit panting and struggling to be free—that he formed the resolution (one most difficult to be put in practice) of deserting whenever the opportunity of doing so should occur: and such was the reckless daring of his disposition, that, watching the time when he was least observed by his messmates before the mast, he actually threw himself headlong overboard, and swam towards a Gibraltar privateer—a vessel of that class which, during the late war, were usually called _rock scorpions_ by our sailors. He was taken on board the privateer, and so for a short time he was the associate of an abandoned and a lawless set of robbers. But he was soon disgusted with their regardless, savage and brutal manners, and so embraced the first opportunity of leaving them, and of going again into the merchant service. While, however, he was on board the Rock Scorpion, she had sustained an engagement, in which our hero was severely wounded by a grape-shot—an accident by which his body was seamed and scarred in a frightful manner, and which, had it happened to his face or his limbs, must have rendered him deformed or lame for life.

SECT. IV.—THE MANNER IN WHICH HE WAS PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF A MIDSHIPMAN IN THE ROYAL NAVY.

After he had left the privateer he was soon discovered, and brought back to the Renommée frigate as a deserter. It is mentioned in the “Sketch,” which says nothing of the rock scorpion adventure, that when Clapperton first joined the Renommée frigate, which was commanded by Sir Thomas Livingstone, having heard that his uncle, a captain of marines on board his Majesty’s ship Saturn, which had arrived at Gibraltar for the purpose of watering and refitting, he sent him a letter describing his situation on board the Renommée; that his uncle having previously been a messmate of her captain, Sir Thomas Livingstone, interfered with him in behalf of his nephew, and through his interest got him promoted to the rank of a midshipman.[7] All we can say to this statement is, that Clapperton himself, whose heart was most grateful, never spoke of a letter he had written to his uncle, nor that he was in any way indebted to that gentleman for his promotion in the navy. He seems never to have seen his uncle till he met him in London after he had engaged to go with Dr. Oudney to Africa. In a letter to a friend, dated London, 1st September 1821, he says, “my uncle has been to see me several times, and was truly kind. He is a perfect gentleman, without any nonsense.” Now, the correspondent to whom he thus writes, declares that Clapperton never mentioned to him that he had ever written to his uncle, soliciting his interest in his favour, or that he was in any respect indebted to him, in the first instance, for his promotion in the navy. But while he said nothing to his friend of his uncle in connexion with this matter, he frequently gave him a most circumstantial and graphic description of the manner in which this promotion took place. And as it is in keeping with the rest of the romantic and eventful life of our hero, and, above all, as it is his own account, we hasten to lay it before our readers.

When he was apprehended as a deserter, and brought back to his old birth on board the Renommée, his captain, Sir Thomas Livingstone, having previously observed that he possessed a strength of body, a robustness of constitution, and a fearless daringness of spirit, which might be turned to good account in the naval service, which, at that time required to be sustained and strengthened by attaching to it men of such mental and bodily qualities as these, asked the deserter, if he should pardon his delinquency, and raise him to the rank of a midshipman, would he give him his solemn pledge, that he would no more desert, but do his duty faithfully? Clapperton, with the bold and dauntless air and bearing of the captive British prince, who “had been the admiration, the terror of the Romans,” when led in triumph through the streets of the mighty capital, still “walked the warrior, majestic in his chains,” replied that he was not yet prepared to give a final and decisive answer to such a question, and therefore asked time to consider on what he should determine. “Are you not aware, Sir,” rejoined the captain, “that I can order you to be flogged as a deserter?” “That I know you can do, and I expect no less,” was our hero’s reply, “but still I am unprepared at present to decide on your proposal.” The result, however, of this extraordinary conversation was, that the captain ordered him into solitary confinement, with an admonition to lose no time in coming to a speedy determination as to the course which he should adopt. In this situation his reflections took a wise and a prudent turn, and led him quickly to resolve to give his generous captain the assurance of fidelity which he required of him; and, on doing so, he was promoted to the rank of a midshipman on board the Renommée frigate, where he had first served as an impressed sailor boy, and on the deck of which he had stood in the capacity of an apprehended deserter. Afterwards, on his own request, he was allowed to go on shore during a specified period of time, on his _parole_ of honour. It is very true the account of his promotion through his uncle’s interference in his behalf accords better with the ordinary course of things in such proceedings than that stated above. But we think, that if Clapperton had been aware that he was indebted to his uncle on this occasion he would not have concealed the fact from his friends; and likewise we think, that the disparity of his condition as a common sailor, and that of his uncle as a captain of marines, would have been sufficient to deter him from making himself known to his uncle, or asking any thing from him. For though his feelings of honour sometimes rested on mistaken principles, they were always very sensitive; and so we are decidedly of opinion, that in the circumstances of this case he would have felt equally unwilling to expose his own servile condition to his uncle, and to compromise his uncle’s dignity by making the captain of marines appear the near kinsman of the common sailor. We happen to know a case in point which illustrates this view of the matter. During the late war, one of the sons of a gentleman in Argyleshire, absconded from his father’s house, and for a while it was unknown where he had gone, till he was discovered by one of his brothers, a captain in the army, as a common sailor on board a man-of-war. The captain instigated by fraternal affection, was anxious to procure an interview with his brother, and so sent him a note, informing him where he was, and expressing his earnest desire that he would endeavour to meet him on shore. The answer to this kind and brotherly invitation was an expression of wounded pride. “If,” said the sailor, “Captain M. has any business to transact with Donald M. let him come on board H. M. S——— and transact it there.” And we think Clapperton would have been apt to feel and act nearly in the same manner in the circumstances in which he and his uncle were relatively situated on board the Renommée frigate, and the ship Saturn; though at the same time, it is not unlikely that Sir Thomas Livingstone having discovered his deserter’s connexion with his old messmate, was disposed not only to remit his punishment, but likewise to give him the chance of retrieving his honour and of benefiting his country. Neither do we think it is the least unlikely that Sir Thomas and Captain Clapperton may have had mutual communications respecting our hero, but we can see no reason for believing that he was in any way made privy to them, but many to make us believe the contrary. Now raised to the rank of a midshipman, he performed some hard service on the coast of Spain, in which he was wounded on the head—a wound which, though it seemed apparently slight, afterwards gave him much annoyance. He remained on board the Renommée, and under the command of Sir Thomas Livingstone, to whom he was so deeply indebted, till the year 1808, when the frigate was brought to England and paid off.[8]

SECT. V.—HIS SERVICE IN THE EAST INDIES.

When Clapperton left the Renommée frigate, and his generous captain, Sir Thomas Livingstone, to whom he was indebted for his first step of promotion in the Royal Navy, he is said to have joined his Majesty’s ship Venerable, (or, as others say, the San Domingo,) which then lay in the Downs under the command of Captain King. But as this was a situation too monotonous and inactive for his enterprising spirit, he volunteered to go with Captain Briggs, to the East Indies, in the Clorinde frigate. Though, however, his services were accepted, he could not obtain his discharge in time to make his voyage to India in the Clorinde; and so he was deprived of the pleasure of getting acquainted, in the course of it, with those with whom he was ultimately to be associated as his messmates. But as tranships and convoys were frequently sailing from England to the east, he was ordered by the Admiral to have a passage on board one of them, and to join Captain Briggs on his arrival in India.

In the course of this outward voyage, he was ordered, during the raging of a tremendous storm, to go, in an open barge, to the relief of a vessel in distress. The barge was accordingly manned, but the mighty rolling of the billows chaffed and vexed with the furious raging of the tempest, was such, that Clapperton and many others on board the ship in which he sailed, were of opinion, that it was next to impossible an open boat could live during the blowing of so heavy a gale. In this emergency, Clapperton said, that it was not for him to dispute the orders of his superior officer, but that he was thoroughly convinced that in doing his duty he must sacrifice his life. Then, in serious mood and sailor-like fashion, he made his will, bequeathing any little property he had among his messmates—his kit to one, his quadrant to another, and his glass and watch to a third—adding, that in all probability they should never meet again, and requesting them to keep these articles, trifling as they were, in token of his affection for them. Then he jumped into the barge, which, in spite of all that the most skillful seamanship could accomplish, had scarcely left the side of the ship, when she was upset, and the greater part of her crew engulfed in the awfully agitated waters. Clapperton, however, and a few other individuals, still clung to the sides of the floating wreck; and though their perilous situation was distinctly seen from the ship, no assistance could be afforded to them, so long as the tempest continued to rage with so much violence. In the mean time, Clapperton, while he was careful to preserve his own life, did his utmost, and more than perhaps any other man would have ventured to do in like circumstances, to save the lives of his companions in distress. As they, one by one, lost their hold of the barge, and dropped off into the sea, he swam after them, picked them up, and replaced them in their former situation. He was especially anxious to save the life of a warrant officer, the boatswain of the ship, we believe. This man he several times rescued when he was on the point of sinking, and restored him to the barge. By these efforts, Clapperton’s strength, great as it was, soon became nearly exhausted, and while with difficulty he was bringing the boatswain back to take a fresh hold of the boat, and while at the same time he was crying, “Oh, what will become of my wife and children,” Clapperton coolly observed, that he had better pay some attention to his own safety at present, otherwise he must, however reluctantly, leave him to his fate. This man was drowned, as well as every one else who had left the ship in the barge, except Clapperton and the bowman, whom our hero cheered by saying, “Thank heaven neither you nor I is the Jonah,” intimating, by this marine proverb, that it was not for the punishment of their bad conduct that the tempest had been sent; and at the same time advised him to _bob_, that is, to lay himself flat, when he saw a wave approaching, so that he might not be washed off the barge.

Long prior to this signal occurrence, in which our hero showed so much of the boldness of determined courage, united with the gentle feelings of compassion, he had become a general favourite both with the officers and men. His stately form, his noble bearing, his kind, frank, and manly demeanour, had endeared him to all on board the ship in which he served. But a man is often the last to know the sentiments entertained of him by others to whom he is known; and indeed, seldom knows them at all, unless when they happen to be revealed to him by accidental circumstances. And hence, as Clapperton was hoisted on board the ship, in an exhausted state, after being rescued from the perilous situation in which he had so long struggled for his life, he had his feelings strongly excited, on hearing the wives of the Scottish soldiers on board exclaiming, “Thank heaven, it is na our ain kintryman, the bonny muckle midshipman that’s drownded after a’!”

It may reasonably be supposed, that the gallantry and humanity which Clapperton had so conspicuously displayed on this trying occasion, would tend to deepen the esteem in which he was held by all on board, and especially that it would be the means of securing for him the admiration, the affection, and the friendship of many kindred spirits connected with the navy—a service so long and so eminently distinguished for firmness of purpose and nobleness of disposition. Accordingly, when Clapperton arrived in India, and when his gallantry was made known, he received the greatest attention from Captain Briggs,[9] during the whole of the time he continued under his command; and among other friendships which he formed with officers of his own standing, was one of peculiar intimacy and tenderness, with Mr. Mackenzie, the youngest son of the late Lord Seaforth. It happened that this amiable and noble youth became, in that distant region, the victim of a dangerous disease; and during the whole of his illness, Clapperton, his newly acquired friend, unless when the avocations of professional duty called him hence, never left him; but continued to amuse and nurse him with the affectionate assiduity of a loving brother, till he was so far recovered as to be able to resume his public duty. After Mackenzie was in some degree restored to health, he continued to be depressed in spirits, and in that state became careless of his person and of every thing else, thinking, like most hypochondriacs, that death was fast approaching to deliver him from all his sufferings. When under the influence of these feelings—afflicted indeed both in mind and body—he was by no means a desirable companion, and in truth was shunned by most of the young officers on board the Clorinde. But Clapperton, whose benevolent heart would not permit him to witness a fellow-creature, and still less a countryman and a friend an object of unfeeling neglect, redoubled his attentions to the forlorn youth. He read with him daily such books of instruction and amusement as either of them had in their possession, or could procure the perusal of from the other officers. He endeavoured to inspire him with the sentiments befitting his rank as the lineal descendant of a noble family, and with a sense of the duties incumbent upon him as an officer of the British navy. He talked to him of Scotland, and relations, and home. He entertained him with amusing anecdotes, of which he possessed an inexhaustible fund, and by relating to him the numerous vicissitudes and strange adventures of his own early life. And such was the happy effect produced upon the health and spirits of his young friend, that he was able to resume his duty on board the Clorinde, and to enjoy and return the cordial friendship which he experienced from Clapperton.

Though we believe, that the officers of the British navy are, perhaps, more distinguished for simplicity of feeling and openness of heart, than the men belonging to any other profession whatsoever; yet, it would appear, that some of the officers of the Clorinde had given entertainment in their breasts to the green-eyed monster, Envy. And hence, when they observed the close intimacy which subsisted between Clapperton and Mackenzie, and the kind attention which, during his illness, the latter experienced from the former, they said among themselves, but loud enough to be heard by Clapperton, “The canny Scotsman knows what he is about, by attaching himself so closely to a sprig of nobility; he courts his favour that he may use him as his instrument for obtaining promotion.” The effect of these injurious whisperings upon the mind of our hero was, in the first instance, to cause him to make a great sacrifice of feeling to the injury both of himself and his friend. He withdrew all attention from Mackenzie, and ceased, not only to keep company with him, but even to speak to him when they met. Mackenzie, in utter ignorance as to the cause of the change which had so suddenly taken place in the conduct of Clapperton towards him, after having puzzled and perplexed his mind in conjecturing in what way he had given such deadly offence to his friend, as to make him behave in the manner he was doing, at last mustered courage, fairly to ask him, why he had of late treated him with so much coldness and distance? On this, Clapperton, with his feelings strongly excited, stated to his friend what had been said among their shipmates, of the interested motives which had been attributed to him, as the cause of what they had represented as pretended friendship on his part. “But,” he added, “my dear Mackenzie, I have been wrong to punish both myself and you, in listening to these most false and injurious speeches. And henceforth let the best of them beware how they use them in future; for the first man whom I detect doing so, must do it at the risk of his life.” As this hint was pretty publicly intimated on the part of Clapperton, his friendship for Mackenzie suffered no interruption afterwards, so long as they served together in the same ship. But the disease which he had caught returned upon him again, and after causing him to linger for some time as an invalid, he was sent to his friends, with little hope of his recovery; nor indeed had he been long at home, till he died. While, however, he lay upon his death-bed, he spoke with all the enthusiasm of sincere and warm friendship, of the kind attentions he had received from Clapperton when ill and far from home; and entreated his relations, and especially his mother, to discharge the debt of gratitude which he owed him, by treating him as a son, in requital of his having, so long as he had it in his power, treated him as his brother.

We have not been able to obtain any satisfactory information respecting the nature of the naval service in which Clapperton was employed in India, nor of the exploits of seamanship and prowess which he performed while he was on that station, except in one instance, which is well worthy of being recorded to his honour. When we stormed Port Louis, in the Isle of France, he was the first man who advanced into the breach; and it was he who pulled down the colours of France, and planted those of Britain in their place. And we know that his conduct was in all respects worthy of the rank which he had obtained in a manner so unique, and such as entitled him to expect his turn of promotion in due course. He continued in India from the early part of 1810 till the latter end of 1813, when he returned to England. He had not been long at home, when he was draughted, along with a select number of midshipmen, for the purpose of being sent to Portsmouth, to be instructed by Angelo, the famous fencing-master, in the cutlass exercise, with the view of introducing that mode of defence and attack into the navy. These young men, when perfected in the art, were distributed through the fleet, as teachers of the young officers and men. Clapperton, being an apt pupil, soon excelled in this exercise, and when his companions were distributed through the fleet as drill-masters, he was sent to the Asia, the flag ship of Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane, then lying at Spithead.

SECT. VI.—HIS SERVICE ON THE LAKES OF CANADA.