midshipman, but he had on a post-captain’s uniform. He nodded, as an old acquaintance, to my father, who stood hat in hand with the other men to receive him. ‘That’s Mr Nelson, our new captain,’ said my father; ‘he’ll not let the grass grow under his feet.’ That was the first time I ever saw the great Lord Nelson. What my father said was true. We soon sailed to convoy a fleet of transports destined to attack Saint Juan de Nicaragua. Up a muddy river we pulled, led by our captain, with a hot scorching sun striking down on us. We arrived before a fort. Captain Nelson leaped on shore, sword in hand, leaving his shoes in the mud, to attack it. The fort was taken, and so was San Juan itself; and though the grass did not grow under our feet, it was soon growing over the heads of numbers of the fine fellows who composed the expedition—both redcoats and seamen; and though our captain, receiving notice of his appointment to another ship, the ‘Janus,’ sailed away immediately, we lost the greater number of our people by sickness. The captain was so knocked up that he had to go home invalided, as did my father, who was never able again to go to sea. I went with him, and we lived for some time at Deal.

“I remember early in January, 1782, a tremendous gale sprang up. My father and I were standing on the shore, he with his glass in his hand watching the ships driving here and there, one running foul of another, when we observed a heavy store-ship drive right down on a frigate.

“‘They’ll grind each other down to the water’s edge,’ observed my father. ‘Does no one on board know what to do? I’d like to be off to lend a hand, but that’s impossible; few boats could live in such a sea.’

“While we were talking, a lad came running along the beach, saying that an officer was in a great taking, wanting to get off to his ship, and no one would go.

“‘Who is he?’ asked my father.

“‘A Captain Nelson,’ answered the lad.

“‘I’ll go, if any man will trust his boat,’ exclaimed my father. ‘Come along, Ned.’

“We ran along the beach, and there we found our late captain walking up and down, fuming away, and trying to persuade the boatmen to take him off.

“‘I’ll go, sir, if I had a boat,’ said my father. ‘I’ve long sailed with you.’

“‘Ah! Ned Freeman. Thank you—thank you,’ exclaimed the captain. ‘I’m sure you’d go with me anywhere.’

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