A Lad of Grit: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea in Restoration Times

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XIV--I Set Out to Fight the Dutch

  I must now pass over a space of a year, there being but little ofinterest to record. All this time it must not be imagined that I hadgiven up the quest for my father's murderer; indeed, as I grew older, mythoughts of bringing the villain to justice waxed hotter instead ofwaning. My uncle, Sir George Lee, and Lawyer Whitehead had eachprosecuted vigorous enquiries, but all attempts to run the felon toearth had proved fruitless.

  The loss of the mysterious metal box also caused me considerablemisgivings, and the vague hints thrown out by my uncle at sundry timesdid much to increase my uneasiness on that score.

  Meanwhile it seemed as if the earth had opened and swallowed bothIncrease Joyce and the box (for in my mind the two were inseparablyassociated), though I had a presentiment that I should obtainsatisfaction in the end.

  But to resume my story. Twelve months sped swiftly by ere my physicalcondition became as good as before my malady, and with the lengtheningdays of January I entertained great hopes of going again to sea.

  Rumours of a rupture with the States of Holland were in the air, and,taking the aggressive action of the Dutchmen in mercantile matters intoconsideration, the prospect of a war was hailed with delight.

  One day early in February I went to call on my benefactor, Sir ThomasMiddleton, in the hope that he would get me appointed to a ship.

  He received me kindly, but held out little hope of my desire beingfulfilled.

  "Would that I could, Aubrey," he remarked sorrowfully. "My whole timeis spent in writing to Master Samuel Pepys praying for money to pay thearrears of both seamen and workmen. God knows, the poor wretches arehard put; but the money that should go for the defence of the realmfinds its way into the hands of His Majesty's favourites. There is anew ship to be launched this month, but there is not a man belonging toher except the officers, whose work is to look about them. Never did werequire cordage and hemp more than we do now. Fifteen ships now in portare making demands for rope, and what we have in store signifiesnothing. The blockmakers and joiners have gone away, refusing to workany longer without money; the sawyers threaten to do the same. I am evennow going the rounds of the yard, so if you will bear me company you cansee for yourself to what straits we are put."

  So saying, the commissioner led the way to the dockyard, past theropehouse to the building slips, where a tall vessel lay ready forlaunching, yet hardly a workman was to be seen. Instead, a mob of womenand children followed Sir Thomas at a distance, reviling and cursing theking, the commissioner, and the navy in general by reason of thenon-payment of their husbands' and fathers' wages.

  "Faith, 'tis hard on them," remarked Sir Thomas; "but for foulness oftongue they out-vie the daughters of Billingsgate. Now, we'll make foryonder workshop, for there will be found the only reliable men workingin the dockyard."

  But alas for the commissioner's hopes! On entering the shop he foundthat, instead of being diligently employed, the men were listening to aheated discourse from a malcontent from another part of the dockyard.This last straw raised Sir Thomas's ire. Seizing a stout cudgel fromone of the men, he struck out right and left at the astonished partytill bruised and cut pates became the order of the day. Then, havingthoroughly cowed the malcontents by taking more pains in the use of thestick than in any business for the last twelve months (as he afterwardsexpressed it), he sent for the guard and clapped three of theringleaders in the stocks.

  "You see, Aubrey," he exclaimed on our return to his house, "how I amput upon. Though I would gladly serve His Majesty in great and smallmatters, yet how can I when the lack of money hangeth like a millstoneround my neck? As for you, the moment I can get you a vessel I'll do myutmost, but, as things are, I can hold out but little hope."

  I thanked him and withdrew, feeling sick at heart at the prospect of alife of idleness when I might be serving the king at sea.

  Towards the end of February news came that war had been proclaimedagainst the Dutch, and the beating of drums and the firing of cannonswelcomed the announcement. What ships there were in the harbour weighedand sailed for the Downs, to join the fleet that lay there under thecommand of the Duke of York. Disconsolately I watched their departure,regretting the fact that I was unable to take a part in the comingstruggle.

  As time wore on, news of sanguinary naval engagements reached us, whileoccasionally a Dutch vessel would be brought into the harbour, herensign hoisted beneath the cross of St. George, and her crew batteneddown in the hold.

  The captives were invariably taken to Porchester Castle, a building ofimmense strength that lay on the shores of Portsmouth harbour, some fourmiles away by water.

  Spring came and went, yet to my great mortification I was not sent tojoin a ship, though in the interval I engaged in a private venture--afew gentlemen of Hampshire having fitted out a small vessel to prey uponDutch merchantmen. But the task was not to my liking; little renown wasto be gained, and after three weeks I was glad to return home.

  One evening in June I went down to the Sally Port, as was my wont, tolook towards Spithead, in the hope of seeing part of our victoriousfleet return. The guard had been doubled since the declaration ofhostilities, and every vessel and boat that made for the harbour wasvigorously searched.

  "Ah, Master Wentworth," remarked the captain of the guard, who dwelt notfar from us in St. Thomas's Street, and whose acquaintance I had madesome time back, "our town hath other enemies to fight besides theHollanders!"

  "Oh!" I ejaculated, in a manner that implied that I wanted to be furtherenlightened.

  "Yes, 'tis true. The Dutchmen we can fight man to man in astraightforward manner, but our latest foe is not to be conquered bystrength of arms--'tis the plague!"

  "The plague?"

  "Yea. From Southampton comes news that the plague is in that town, andeight houses are shut up. Sir Thomas Middleton hath given orders thatthe shipwrights who dwell there are not to be allowed to go home, andthose already living there are not to be readmitted to the dockyard.Furthermore, the poor there will not suffer the rich to leave, neitherdoth our governor permit ships from Southampton to land their cargoeshere."

  Here was grave news. I hurried homewards and communicated the captain'sinformation to my uncle. He shook his head sorrowfully.

  "The plague is rampant in London. In Chichester eleven persons havedied. At Newport there have been two cases, yet in this town we arefree, though in dire straits. Still, Aubrey, let not a word escape toalarm your aunt. I must see that we lay in a goodly store ofbrimstone."

  Throughout the long sultry summer we were mercifully preserved from thecontagion; then, as autumn came, and still the plague did not appearamongst us, people began to think that with the approach of the coldweather all danger was past.

  But this was not the case. Winter drew on, and with it the cold wasintense, a sharp frost lasting for over six weeks.

  Towards the end of December the _Essex_, man-of-war, came into port, andhardly had she moored alongside the jetty when the report spread aboutthat she was infected with the dread disease. Immediately there was apanic amongst the workmen, and, throwing down their tools, they betookthemselves off, vowing that neither the king nor the king's enemieswould make them resume work till the _Essex_ had gone.

  Finding threats and entreaties useless, the commissioner ordered the_Essex_ to moor in the centre of the harbour. This was done, but rumourhad it that at midnight the bodies of eight men, victims of the plague,were taken ashore and buried secretly in the Pest House fields.

  Two days afterwards it was known that three more of her crew had died,and were buried on the foreshore at Gosport; while, to disinfect theship, great quantities of brimstone were burnt, but to no purpose.

  Then, strange to relate, the plague broke out in Gosport town, whithersome three hundred men pass over every day to work in the dockyard, soit was not surprising to learn that at length the dreaded scourge hadappeared in our own town.

  With fierce violence it spread.
Many houses were shut up, their doorsmarked by a cross with the words "God have mercy upon us" writtenunderneath. At first passers-by would cross in fear and trembling tothe other side of the street whenever this mournful sign met their eyes,but as the number of cases increased people became hardened to thedanger.

  Many put the cause of the disease, rightly enough, to the filthy habitsof the poorer people, and hearing that salt water was a preventive,scores of the inhabitants repaired daily to the seashore, plunging intothe bitterly cold waves in the hope of staving off the malady.

  Day and night large fires were lighted in the streets, while, to add tothe misery, the silent watches of the night were broken by the hoarseshout of the watchmen, who, ringing their bells, cried out in solemntones: "Bring out your dead."

  All the time the war with the Dutch was waged unceasingly, till it wasreported that the French, apprehensive of our supremacy at sea, joinedforces with the States of Holland and declared war against us.

  Early in April, to my great joy, Sir Thomas Middleton informed me that Iwas to join the _Prince Royal_, a ship of 100 guns, then lying atChatham with the rest of the fleet under the command of the Duke ofAlbemarle and Prince Rupert.

  "As the pestilence rages in London town," said he, "it is not meet thata man should risk an inglorious death when he would serve His Majestybetter by dying for his country while fighting the Dutch. Therefore,instead of going by coach to London, and thence to Chatham by river, weare sending a shallop to Dover, whence you can travel through the countyof Kent to Chatham. Several officers and men are making the passage, tobring up the crew of the _Prince Royal_ to full strength, for she hashad some hard knocks, and promotion is sure to be rapid should she againmeet with the Dutch."

  I thanked the commissioner heartily and withdrew. Having bade farewellto my friends, and gathered together my few personal belongings, Iretired for the night, as the shallop was to sail at six the nextmorning.

  On going aboard I found that not less than four officers and thirty menwere packed in this little craft. To my surprise and delight GrevilleDrake was amongst the former, he having been promoted to lieutenant.There were also several of the old Gannets, and to me it seemed as ifthe glorious doings in the stout old craft would be worthily followed bythe crew of the _Prince Royal_.

  The shallop was but fifty feet over all, unarmed save for the musketsand swords carried by the men, and relied on her speed only for safetyin case of attack.

  With a fair wind the little craft tore eastwards, passing through theLooe before nine o'clock. Then the wind fell lighter as the sun rosehigher, and midday found us forging slowly along off Littlehampton, onthe Sussex coast.

  Four hours later we had Brighthelmstone on our larboard bow, the masterof the shallop keeping close inshore for fear of being attacked by aFrench or Dutch man-of-war. Finding, however, that there was more windoffshore, he altered the helm and stood more to the south-east.

  At sunset a thick mist came on, which caused our careful and anxiousmaster to lose his bearings. Most of us remained on deck, though theweather was exceedingly cold. As darkness set in our position becamestill more uncertain, and even the oldest seamen began to look alarmed.

  Drake and I stood side by side conversing in low tones as we clung tothe weather rails, the lively motion of the little craft making it adifficult matter to keep one's feet.

  Between the gusts of wind I thought I heard a sound. Drake listened,but could hear nothing. In a few minutes the noise was repeated, severalof the crew hearing it besides myself. It was the roll of a drum.

  Again the sound was heard, this time nearer; but almost immediately itwas answered by another faint beating, another, and yet another, tillthe sea seemed to echo with the rapid roll of drums.

  "Stand by, lads, to 'bout ship!" shouted the master, slacking off thetiller lines. "We are across the bows of a large fleet, if I mistakenot."

  "God forfend 'tis not the French!" remarked Greville. "'Tis not to myliking to see the inside of a French prison."

  We peered through the mist and darkness of the night, but nothing couldbe distinguished. Sea met mist in an undefined blur at less than twentyyards from us.

  Half an hour passed in breathless suspense, then the noise broke outagain, this time close ahead and far away on both quarters as well.

  "'Tis no use to go about now," said I to my companion. "We are sailingright across the van of a great fleet."

  The master was of the same mind, for in a few minutes he put theshallop's head more before the wind, so that she lay in the supposeddirection of the invisible squadron.

  Now we could hear the rush of the water from the vessels' cutwaters, thestraining of the ropes and the creaking of the blocks, while the shipswere continually hailing one another so as to keep in touch.

  In what language they were talking we could not make out, but it did notsound like an English hail. Anxiety was stamped on all our faces, forwe had to run the risk not only of collision with a vessel ten times oursize, but of being taken by a French or Dutch man-of-war.

  By this time the moon had risen, dispelling the darkness, though the foghung around as thick as ever; but withal there was enough light to seethe length of our craft.

  Suddenly, with a swirl of beaten water, a huge vessel loomed out of themist, her flying jibboom seeming to project right over our stern. Ourmaster and one of the seamen flung themselves on the tiller and put ithard down. The shallop ran up into the wind and lost way, and as shedid so the man-of-war thrashed by us so near that we could see thegunports of her lofty tumble-home sides, though her spars and sails werelost in the mist.

  We were seen by those on board. Shouts followed the discovery, andevery moment we expected to find some heavy weight crashing down uponus, or a discharge from some of her lower-deck guns; but beyond theshouting we were not molested.

  We rubbed sides with the hulking ship as she shot past, and when clearof her quarter we read the name _Jeanne d' Arc_ emblazoned on her sterngallery, with an elaborate embellishment of gilded eagles andfleurs-de-lis.

  "Oh for a barrel of powder and a slow match lashed to her rudderpintle!" exclaimed Drake. "But stand by, here comes another!"

  Such was the case, and before the _Jeanne d' Arc_ was lost in the mistthe bows of another vessel loomed up. By this time the shallop waswearing and gathering way, so the master ordered both sails to belowered, a manoeuvre that was smartly executed, and as the secondFrenchman passed us our craft was lying motionless on the water.

  This time fortune did not smile on us, for as the shallop was on theFrenchman's lee a spurt of flame burst from the man-of-war, immediatelyfollowed by a deafening roar, and with it our mizzen mast went by theboard with a terrific crash.

  The shot was replied to by the nearest Frenchman, and for the space of aquarter of an hour a spirited pitched battle occurred between thevarious ships of the squadron, friend firing into friend in theconfusion and excitement.

  Though several shots pitched close to us, we escaped without furtherinjury, and ere the echoes of the last report had died away we were farbehind the now invisible fleet.

  The anxiety of the master on account of the fog had vanished utterly onmeeting with the Frenchmen, and with spirited promptness he set the crewto clear away the wreckage and parbuckle the broken mast.

  "My men," he cried, "that fleet is none other than the forty sail of theDuke of Beaufort, who seeks to effect a junction with the Dutch! Yo ho!Straight for the nearest land we'll make now. Whether we beach theshallop on an exposed coast or bring her into port I care not, but landwe must, and bear tidings hot-foot to His Grace the Duke of Albemarle."

  So saying, he turned the shallop's head due north, and as daylightdawned the mist dispersed, and we found ourselves a few miles from theKentish coast, with Rye plainly visible.

  An hour later and the shallop was making her way cautiously into thesand-encumbered harbour, and, the moment we landed, the officers, myselfincluded, obtained horses and set out for Chatham, leaving
the men tofollow afoot as best they might. Meanwhile the news that the Duke ofBeaufort's squadron was really in the Channel had spread abroad, causingthe timid inhabitants of Rye to make preparations for a hurried exodus,while the trainbands were called out by beat of drum, and had assembledin the marketplace.

  Our journey to Chatham was performed without incident, though the heavyrains had made the roads a perfect quagmire in many places. Tenterden wereached in an hour, and two hours later we were clattering through thestreets of Maidstone.

  At four in the afternoon five weatherworn and mud-bespattered travellersarrived at Chatham, where a rowboat took us to Albemarle's flagship,which lay at anchor in Gillingham Reach.

  Honest George, as the seamen still loved to call the gallant duke, wasnow getting on in years and weighed down by physical infirmity, yet intime of danger his energy and fearless determination would have put toshame many a younger man. If he had had but a free hand, I warrant thedisgrace of the Dutch in the Medway would never have occurred; but thebaneful influence of the court beauties drove His Majesty almost topoverty, so that when retrenchment had to come it was the fleet thatsuffered.

  The admiral received us kindly, and on receipt of our news ordered asignal to be flown recalling all officers and men belonging to the fleetwho were on shore, and ere sunset the English squadron was making itsway towards the Nore to chase and destroy the Hollanders' ally.

  On joining the _Prince Royal_ I was surprised at her size, equipment,and smartness. Practically a new ship, she was commanded by the veteranSir George Ascue, and her crew were all men who had seen active serviceagainst the Dutch, the Spaniards, or the Barbary pirates. Compared withthe _Gannet_ the _Prince Royal_ was as a mastiff by the side of alapdog, while the smallest of her 100 guns was larger than the heaviestpiece of ordnance in my first ship.

  With a favourable wind the fleet arrived off the Forelands and thencebeat up for the Downs, where we were in a position to meet either theDutch or the French squadrons; but off Dover we learned from a fishingboat that Beaufort was seen heading back towards Brest in order to refitsome of his ships, so that for the time our chances of smelling powderwere very remote.