On the north-east side of the street, about midway between thefish and flesh markets in the seaport town of Falmouth, and atabout the silent and solemn hour of thirty-six minutes past oneby my father’s watch, on the morning of the 28th day ofDecember, of the year of grace 1752, His Gracious Majesty Georgethe Second being King of Great Britain and Ireland, (it isnecessary in important matters to be particular). I wasintroduced with the usual forms and ceremonies into the ancientfamily of the Hurrys, as the undoubted child of my father Richardand my mother Joan, the ninth, and as it subsequently proved, thelast of their promising offspring. On the 29th day of the Januaryfollowing, the Reverend Edward Walmsley, rector of the parish,baptised me by the names of Hurricane, with the addition ofTempest, which were selected by my parents, after numberlessconsultations, in compliment to my maternal grand-uncle, SirHurricane Tempest, Alderman of Bristol, though it did not appearfrom his remark when informed of the occurrence that it waslikely to benefit in the remotest manner from the delicateattention which had been paid him.
My early days were not remarkable, I got through thecomplaints incident to childhood in a manner satisfactory to mymother and the doctor, while my elder brothers and sisters tookvery good care that I should not be spoilt by over-indulgence. Mybrothers, as they advanced towards manhood, were sent intovarious professions, and as none of them had chosen the sea, itwas decided, without my opinion being asked, that I should bemade an offering to Neptune.
That I might be prepared for my future calling, I was sent toreside with my brother-in-law Jack Hayfield, in the neighbourhoodof Bideford, North Devon, to allow me the vast benefit ofattending the school of worthy Jeremiah Sinclair, kept over themarketplace in that far-famed maritime town. I still love therecollection of the old place, with its steep streets, its broadquays, and its bridge of many arches; to my mind a morepicturesque bridge does not exist in all the world, nor, when thetide is in, a prettier river. On the bosom of that river I gainedmy first practical experience of affairs nautical, and many atrip I made down to Appledore with my schoolfellow NedTreggellis, in a boat which, had not a special providence watchedover us, would speedily have consigned us to the muddy bottom ofthe stream. An oar served us as a rudder, another as a mast, witha piece of sacking as a sail spread on a condemned boat-hook,while one of us was constantly employed in baling out the waterwhich came in through leaks unnumbered—a state of affairswe had learned to consider normal to our craft.
From Sinclair’s school, in order to receive thefinishing-touches to my education, I was removed to oldAllen’s well-known Mathematical Academy in ColdHarbour.
It is just possible that I might have reaped some amount ofbenefit from the mental provender served out in those nurseriesof genius, but unfortunately for me Jack’s appreciation ofthe advantages of knowledge was such that he considered the timesquandered devoted to its acquisition. Frequently, therefore,when I was supposed by my good sister Mary, his wife, to be on myway to school, I had been waylaid by him, and was employed withanother boy in setting springles