Lancelot and I had formed a plan with Lieutenant Aylett, by which we
deemed that it would be possible, though no more than possible, to
recover our two sisters, Mr Kerridge, and Margaret. We had asked
permission of the admiral to undertake it. He pointed out the the
dangers we must encounter.
"Far be it from me ever to refuse my sanction to so righteous an
object," he added; "such volunteers as you can obtain may go, and heaven
prosper you."
When our design was made known on board the _Saint George_ and
_Hampshire_ we might have obtained the whole of the crews of both ships,
as well, indeed, as those of the rest of the fleet. On consulting
Captain Blake, however, he advised us to take only fifty men; thirty
from the flag-ship and the _Hampshire_, and the remainder from among the
others of the fleet. We calculated that the whole of the warlike part
of the population of Tunis would have been summoned to the defence of
the castles and batteries. It was our intention to land while the
action continued about three miles from the city, at a spot with which
Lieutenant Aylett was acquainted, and from thence he know the road to
the residence of the old chief who held our friends captives. We might,
he believed, reach the house and be back again to the boats before the
Dey could gain intelligence of our expedition, and send any force of
strength sufficient to oppose us. Dick, of course, was of the party,
and old Martin was as eager as any of the younger men to go; but we
tried to persuade him to remain on board, fearing that the fatigue of
our march would be more than he could endure. He entreated so hard,
however, to be allowed to take part in the recovery of Mistress Audrey
that we gave way, and with hanger by his side, pistols in his belt, and
a musket over his shoulder, he prepared for the expedition.
While the cannonade was still going forward, we put off in two boats,
which kept on the larboard side of one of the frigates, despatched for
the service, so that we were unseen from the town. As soon as we had
got near the landing-place, the frigate tacked and hove to, while we,
pulling rapidly in, leaped on shore, and the boats returned to the
frigate, which sailed back as if to rejoin the fleet, but according to
orders was ready again to put about to receive us, should our expedition
prove successful, on our return.
Led by Lieutenant Aylett, we set out on our march at as fast a rate as
our feet could move. Old Martin kept alongside me, showing the activity
of many a younger man; fearing, however, that his strength would fail, I
begged him to let me carry his musket.
"No, no, Mister Ben," he answered; "I care not, if we get Mistress
Audrey and Margaret back, whether I fall by the way. I have faced Death
in too many shapes to fear him now."
As to the character of the country through which we passed, I cannot
describe it. I know that there were palm trees, and prickly pears, and
other strange shrubs, and rocks covered with creepers, and here and
there fields of corn and plantations of fruit trees. We saw but few
people, and those women, children, or old men, who fled at our approach
to hide themselves. Onwards we pushed, regardless of enemies who might
be gathering behind--eager only to find the captives and to place them
in our midst, when we were prepared to fight our way back against any
odds which might oppose us.
My heart bounded as if it would choke me when, on gaining the top of a
hill, Lieutenant Aylett exclaimed, pointing ahead--
"There's old Mustapha's house!" but the next instant a sickening feeling
came over me, as I dreaded lest those we hoped to find might have been
removed. Without halting for an instant, we rushed down the slope, and
so divided our force that we might surround the building. Orders had
been given that not a shot should be fired lest we should wound our
friends. In silence we dashed on, until we were close to the gates,
when Lieutenant Aylett cried out--
"Open, open; we come as friends."
The bars were withdrawn, the gate swung back, when instead of a turbaned
Moor, who should we see but old Margaret! She recognised us at once, as
we grasped hands.
"Where are my father and sister?" exclaimed Lancelot.
"Where is my dear Audrey?" I cried.
Before she could reply there arose such a shrieking and shouting from
the farther end of the hall that we could scarcely hear her speak.
"Mr Kerridge is there," she at length said, pointing through an opening
into the garden, "and the young ladies are with Mrs Mustapha and the
other women who are making all that hubbub there."
"Run, good Margaret, and tell them we are here," I exclaimed, while
Lancelot, like a dutiful son, rushed out into the garden in search of
his father.
Scarcely had he gone than the door at the other end of the hall opened,
and two young boys, as they seemed, sprang towards us, followed by
Margaret. The next instant I had Audrey in my arms, and was holding the
hand of Mistress Cicely. In spite of their disguise and sunburnt
cheeks, I knew them directly, and in a few words explained how we had
come to rescue them. They were less astonished than we expected, for
the sound of firing had reached their ears, and they guessed that either
the town or pirate ships had been attacked by a foreign squadron.
Margaret was eagerly talking to Martin, whose attention was more
occupied by Audrey than by what she was saying. The moment his sense of
propriety would allow, coming forward, he took her hand and poured out
the feelings of his heart at having recovered her.
Before many minutes had passed, the clashing of swords and Lancelot's
voice shouting for assistance reached our ears. Dick, followed by
several of the men, rushed in the direction he had taken, when they
found him defending himself from the attack of a sturdy old Moor and
three attendants, who, however, on seeing the British seamen
approaching, took to flight. The sailors pursued, and coming up with
the old Moor we were about to cut him down, when a man with a hoe in his
hand sprang out from behind some bushes, exclaiming--
"Spare his life, friends; though he has kept me in slavery, and is
somewhat a hard taskmaster, we should return good for evil."
Then, turning to the old Moor, he made a sign to him that he should
remain quiet while he eagerly questioned the seamen. Lancelot by this
time had come up, and I saw him spring forward and embrace the stranger,
who was, I had no doubt, his long-lost father, although so greatly
changed that I had not recognised him.
Such he was, but as not a moment could be spared, after a few words had
been exchanged, we were summoned by Lieutenant Aylett to commence our
retreat. We did not stop to bid farewell to Mustapha and his family,
but placing the two girls with Margaret in our midst, we recommenced our
march.
Not a moment did we halt, for we had many miles to travel before we
could reach the water, while at any instant we might be attacked by
overwhelming numbers of enraged Moors.
My fear was that the rescued ones, unaccustomed to rapid walking, might
sink from fatigue, but the joy of having recovered their liberty kept up
their strength. The firing had ceased, but as we looked towards the
city we could see a cloud of smoke still hanging over it. The last
height we had to cross was gained. The sea lay before us, when one of
the men on our left flank shouted out he saw a large body of Moors
approaching. We all soon saw them, and it seemed doubtful whether we
could reach the boats before they were upon us, but as we pushed on the
frigate came in view, standing close in with the shore, towards which
her guns were directed. The Moors were rushing on, and even at that
distance we could hear their savage cries, when the frigate opened fire
upon them, compelling them to beat a retreat, while we hastened down the
hill and gained the boats which had just come in to receive us. The
frigate was obliged to tack, but before the Moors could return we had
pulled away beyond the range of their muskets. We were soon on board
the frigate, when our arrival caused no small astonishment as well as
delight, when it was discovered that we had rescued the captives, and
still more so when it was known who they were.
The young ladies, although they had so long worn male attire, were far
from feeling at ease on finding themselves among their countrymen, and
they entreated to be led below, to avoid the gaze of the seamen.
We should, we feared, have great difficulty in procuring suitable
costumes to enable them to appear with satisfaction in public.
"We must apply to the admiral to help us; he can do everything,"
observed Lancelot. "So don't trouble yourself about the matter,
Cicely."
As we stood towards the fleet we saw the line-of-battle ships getting up
their anchors, and making sail away from the shore, from which not a gun
was now fired. One of the boats conveyed our party to the _Saint
George_, where the admiral received our friends with the greatest
kindness, highly commending us for the way in which we had achieved our
undertaking. We found that he intended to inflict no further
chastisement on the Dey of Tunis, it being considered that the
destruction of his fleet, the ruin of his forts, and the vast number of
men who had been slain would induce him to refrain from interfering with
English interests in future.
Running along the coast we visited Tripoli, the Dey of which State,
taught a lesson by the punishment the ruler of Tunis had received,
showed every desire to be on terms of friendship with us. The fleet
then proceeded up the Adriatic to pay the Venetians a friendly visit.
Space does not permit me to describe that curious canal-intersected
city, where the admiral was received with such honours as are accorded
generally only to royal persons. Thanks to his generosity, Cicely and
Audrey were here supplied with all the requisite articles of female
dress, which were sent on board the day after our arrival, so that they
were able to go on shore in their proper characters, and view the
wonders of the city.
Leaving the Adriatic we again came off Tunis, when a white flag was seen
flying from the castle of Porto Ferino. The Dey immediately acceded to
all our demands, and signed a treaty affording advantageous terms to the
English.
Thence we stood across to Malta, where the haughty Templars, having
heard of the way in which our admiral had exacted reparation, not only
from the Grand Duke, but from the Pope himself, at once succumbed and
delivered up the ships and their cargoes of which they had despoiled the
English merchants. This matter settled, we sailed across to Algiers,
the pirate prince of which State immediately sent a present of cattle on
board the fleet, and undertook to liberate all English captives in his
country at a moderate ransom per head, they being, he observed, the
property of private individuals who had purchased them from others,
while he undertook never again to molest English traders. To these
terms the admiral consented, and in a few days a whole fleet of boats
came off, bringing numerous liberated slaves, a large portion of whom
had endured the sorrows of captivity for many years, the amount agreed
on being paid over to their late masters.
While we lay close in with the shore, we observed one morning a number
of persons swimming off towards us. Just as they neared the sides of
the ship, several boats, manned by turbaned Moors, were seen pulling
away in chase of the fugitives, who now, shouting out in Dutch,
entreated us to take them on board.
Our seamen, regardless of the savage war we had lately waged with the
Hollanders, hurried to lower down ropes and to drag the swimmers on
board. Scarcely were they all on deck than the Algerine boats came
alongside, and the Moors demanded the fugitives, affirming that they
were their own runaway slaves.
"What!" exclaimed Martin, "give up Christians who have once enjoyed the
freedom of an English man-of-war, even though they may be enemies, to
pirates and infidels. I don't believe any honest man on board will
stand by and see that done. Just bundle the rascally Turks out of the
ship, and let them know that when once a man steps under our flag he is
free."
The Algerines, with looks of indignation, took their departure, but
before long they returned with a message from the Dey, insisting on the
terms of the new treaty, by which a certain ransom was to be paid for
all liberated captives. On hearing this, Martin suggested that a
subscription should be raised to pay the ransom of the Dutchmen. A boat
being sent round from ship to ship, the necessary sum was soon
collected, the admiral himself paying in proportion to his rank. While
we lay off Algiers we heard of the fearful massacre of the Protestants
of the Vaudois valley by the soldiers of the Duke of Savoy.
The admiral had received instructions from the Protector to threaten the
southern coast of France and Piedmont, should the Duke refuse to make
all the reparation in his power. The menace had its due effect, and the
Duke gave a pledge not again to interfere with the Christian inhabitants
of those lovely valleys. We sailed for the Straits of Gibraltar,
calling on the way at Malaga to obtain water and fresh provisions.
While a party of our seamen were on shore at that place, a procession
carrying the Host, with banners and heathenish figures, passed through
the streets, when they not only refused to bow, but mocked and jeered,
at which the mob, urged on by a priest, savagely attacked them and drove
them back to the boats.
On hearing this, the admiral sent a trumpeter on shore demanding, not
that the mob should be punished, but that the priest who had set them on
should be delivered up to him.
The governor replied that such a thing as giving up a Catholic priest to
heretics had never been heard of, and that he had no power in the case.
On this the admiral replied, "If I fail to see that said priest on the
deck of the _Saint George_, before the lapse of three hours, I will burn
your city to the ground."
Within the specified time the priest appeared, when the admiral,
summoning witnesses from both sides, heard the case, and decided that
the seamen were wrong in mocking, even at the superstitious observances
of the natives, but that the priest was also wrong in taking the law
into his own hands, instead of sending on board to complain, when the
seamen would have been properly punished.
Satisfied that the priest had been placed at his mercy, the admiral,
warning him for the future, sent him safely on shore.
On the fleet reaching Cadiz, the admiral finding that he was expected to
remain on the coast of Spain to wait for the Silver fleet, offered Mr
Kerridge and his party a passage home in the _Constant Warwick_, by
which he was sending off despatches. He at the same time sent Lancelot
and me.
"I intend to let you return with your friends, as you require rest after
the hard work you have gone through," he said in a kind tone. "You must
also take charge of Martin Shobbrok, whose great age and failing
strength unfits him for active service. Your names will remain on the
books of the _Saint George_, and should any captures be made, you will
obtain your due share of prize money."
We were both well-nigh overpowered by the admiral's kindness. Though I
desired to remain with him, I felt unwilling to be again separated from
Audrey as also from Cicely, as between us a warm attachment had sprung
up, though I always before looked on her in the light of a sister.
"But you, sir," I observed, "require rest more than any other person in
the fleet."
The admiral smiled faintly as he replied, "While I have life and my
country requires my services. I must remain afloat."
Of the homeward voyage I will not speak.
Once more the well-known Start appeared in sight, and the _Constant
Warwick_ steering for Lyme, we went on shore, thankful to heaven for our
safe return to our native land.
Mr Kerridge forthwith set about placing his affairs, which had suffered
from his long absence, in order, Lancelot and I assisting him.
Cicely promised to be mine when the war was over, as I acknowledged;
should the admiral summon me, I could not refuse to go.
My sister Audrey had made the same promise to Lancelot; and the ladies
could not help laughing and archly remarking to one another that
"although they had so long worn a certain pair of garments--considered
the exclusive property of men--they were never again likely to put them
on."
In the course of the summer Admiral Blake returned to England, but there
was no repose for him. In spite of his illness, and the suffering he
endured from his wound, he was occupied day after day in visiting the
dockyards and arsenals, forwarding the building and repairing of ships,
and other duties of his station.
The Commonwealth was at war with Spain. Portugal had not fulfilled the
terms of her treaty, especially that clause which secured the English
from the supervision of the diabolical Inquisition, and other nations
were only waiting an opportunity to draw the sword against her.
Another fleet was consequently fitted out, and Admiral Blake, who had
hoisted his flag on board the _Naseby_, sent the summons Lancelot and I
had expected to join her.
The admiral looked pale and ill, yet his spirits were as high as ever,
and as the fleet sailed down Channel, and the white cliffs of Old
England faded from sight, we little thought that he, our beloved chief,
had looked his last on the land he loved so dearly.
I can but give a brief account of the important services rendered during
the long cruise we had now commenced.
Passing down the coast of Portugal, the admiral sent a frigate up the
Tagus, demanding of the King of Portugal a complete fulfilment of the
clauses of the late treaty. The effect of the message was satisfactory
in the extreme. Every clause was agreed to, and among others the right
of Englishmen to have Bibles and Protestant books in their houses,
without thereby infringing the laws of the country.
Without stopping we pressed on to Cadiz, looking out for the Silver
fleet, which had not arrived.
We here encountered a fearful storm, by which several of our ships were
damaged and compelled to return home, but yet the Spaniards would not
venture out of port to fight us; and the admiral, leaving Captain
Stayner in the _Speaker_, and six other ships to watch in the bay,
sailed for Malaga, on which town we inflicted condign punishment in
consequence of the assistance the people had afforded to a Genoese and
to a Sicilian galley which had taken part with the Spaniards against us.
On our return to Cadiz, we found to our infinite satisfaction that
Captain Stayner's squadron had fallen in with the first division of the
Silver fleet, and had sunk or captured every galleon containing treasure
of immense value.
In the hopes of encountering the second division, the admiral remained
at sea the whole winter off Cadiz, notwithstanding the heavy gales we
encountered. We were absent from our post a short time, during which we
came off Algiers to settle a dispute with the Dey, who, not forgetting
the punishment inflicted on Tunis, yielded to our demands without a
shot.
On our return towards the Straits, we relieved Tangiers, then a
Portuguese settlement, closely invested by the Moors, whom our guns
drove away and dispersed. Returning to Cadiz we again endeavoured, but
in vain, to draw out the Spanish fleet, and while we lay off and on the
harbour, news came from undoubted sources that the second Silver fleet,
hearing of the disaster to the first, was afraid of continuing the
homeward voyage, and had put into Santa Cruz, a port of one of the
Canary Islands.
Thither the admiral resolved to sail with his fleet, now numbering by
arrivals from England about twenty-five large ships and frigates.
On the morning of the 19th of April, 1657, the frigate sent on ahead
brought intelligence that the Silver fleet, together with several
men-of-war and merchant vessels, were at anchor in the bay of Santa
Cruz, guarded by castles and batteries of immense strength.
Notwithstanding, the wind being favourable, the admiral resolved to
attack at once, and the fleet under all sail stood in, Rear-admiral
Stayner, with a portion, being directed to assail the galleons, while
the admiral himself assaulted the batteries.
The Spaniards, their ships formed in a semicircle, believing that our
defeat was certain, opened a tremendous fire, which every British ship
returned with terrible effect to the enemy.
In a few minutes the action became general, equalling in fury any which
we had ever fought. So well was our artillery plied, that many of the
guns in the castles and batteries were ere long silenced, when, leaving
a few frigates to keep them in play, the admiral sailed on to the
assistance of the gallant Stayner, and now with our united guns we
played havoc among the Spaniards. Ship after ship was set on fire,
while two proud galleons had already sunk, and by two o'clock of that
eventful day not a mast remained above water--the whole of the Silver
fleet was destroyed.
No sooner was the work performed than the wind shifted to the
south-west, enabling every one of our ships to sail out again, beyond
range of the castle guns. Not one was missing, and we had only fifty
men killed and a hundred and fifty wounded in this most gallant exploit.
Some of the most damaged ships were sent home, while we returned to the
coast of Spain, where we found the Spaniards eager to make peace in
order to avoid future disasters.
Thence we sailed for Salee, to compel the corsairs of that State to
restore their Christian captives to freedom. At the appearance of our
red-cross banner the Moorish chief sent an envoy on board, promising to
comply with all the admiral's demands. In one week every Christian
captive in the country was on board our ships. Water and such
provisions as we required had been received, and a treaty of peace had
been signed, but, alas! we who were with him saw that the admiral's days
were numbered.
After looking into the Tagus, our canvas was spread for England.
Onwards we pressed under all sail. Often during the voyage he expressed
the hope that he might see again his native land. The Lizard was
sighted. Soon Ram Head was rounded, and an officer from the deck came
into the cabin to announce to us, who with sad hearts were standing
round the death-bed of our beloved chief, that Plymouth itself was in
sight.
Stretching out his arms, he sought to rise, but his strength had failed.
His eyes gazed upwards, his lips murmured a prayer, and then, when,
from the expression of his noble countenance, we saw that his spirit had
fled, even the stoutest-hearted amongst us burst into tears, sobbing
like little children. Deep, honest grief was marked on the faces of the
vast crowds which had gathered on the shores to welcome the returning
hero.
I need not speak of the magnificent funeral ordered by the Protector to
lay at rest in Westminster Abbey the honoured remains of the greatest of
England's admirals.
Among the mourners stood a grey-haired veteran, leaning on a staff to
support his tottering steps.
"Alack, alack! Master Ben, it is a sad day, and little did my eyes wish
to see it," murmured Martin. "I followed his father to the grave, but
little did I expect to outlive his noble son. I knows, howsumdever,
that it won't be for long, and I am ready, when the Lord wills, to
depart."
Old Martin's words were prophetic. He returned with Lancelot and I to
Lyme, and in a few days the old sailor took to his bed, from which he
never rose. We mourned for him sincerely, feeling that we had lost a
true and faithful friend. But he was spared from witnessing the
degradation of our country.
Three years passed. The great Protector himself was dead. His son had
retired into private life, and Charles Stuart came back to gain eternal
infamy by a thousand vile deeds, not the least among which was to order
the body of the great admiral to be exhumed and to be cast into a hole
dug near the back door of one of the prebendaries of the abbey.
After the death of my patron, I for a short time only went to sea.
Dick, who had hitherto remained afloat, came back to be present when
Lancelot and I married, and having himself taken a wife, he settled near
us in the neighbourhood of Lyme. It was not from lack of my talking of
them if our children were not well versed in the deeds of the great
admiral which I have briefly narrated in the preceding pages.