Commodore Benbow's squadron met with tolerably severe weather on its
passage to Old England. Not that the Commodore was much given to think
about foul weather or fine; blow high or blow low, it was all the same
to him; but as the gales were from the eastward, the squadron was
considerably delayed, and at length, being in want of water, the
Commodore put into Plymouth. Among the first who went on shore was
Simon Bates, who was anxious once more to visit his native land. Roger
Willoughby accompanied him.
"I congratulate you, my dear fellow," said Roger, "on being once more a
free man, with no one to suspect, except your own immediate relatives,
the errant Captain Bates."
They heard a great deal of talking going round, people speaking in an
excited manner, and just then arrived at an inn, from the sign-board of
which the countenance of the Prince of Orange was portrayed. They
instantly made inquiries.
"Have you not heard? On the 5th of November last the Dutch William,
sailing from Holland with a fleet of six hundred vessels, landed at
Brixham, and marched with an army of cavalry, artillery, and infantry on
to Exeter, while he has since been joined by numerous noblemen and
gentlemen of influence."
"This is indeed glorious news!" exclaimed Captain Bates, or rather
Stephen Battiscombe.
"Yes, it is a very different affair from the landing of the unfortunate
Duke of Monmouth and his handful of men," answered his friend. "This
time we shall gain the victory, and drive James Stuart from his throne."
The Governor of Plymouth had sent word to the Prince that the garrison
he commanded, and most of the inhabitants of the city, were ready to
join him. The Prince was advancing towards London.
The captains returned to their ships, and Benbow resolved to remain on
board his vessel till he could ascertain what side the rest of the fleet
were likely to take. On his saying that he would sail eastward to look
after the British fleet in the Medway, the men of all the ships came aft
to their respective captains.
"We were forced aboard these ships you see, Captain," said the principal
speaker, "but we did not come to fight for King James. We came to serve
our country, and now we find that there is a good chance of our getting
a Protestant King. We have made up our minds to join him, whatever the
rest of the fleet may do."
"I am not the man to say you nay," answered Stephen Battiscombe. "I
obtained my liberty without having to thank King James for it, and I am
bound, therefore, neither by honour nor principle to serve him.
Moreover, I am pretty confident that such will be the principles
exhibited by the remainder of the fleet."
Captain Benbow replied that his object was the same as that of his
men,--to serve his country.
They had not long to wait. On the 11th of December the reign of James
ended, when he secretly left Whitehall, throwing his signet-ring into
the Thames. That of William and Mary commenced on the 13th February, on
which day they accepted the crown of England. Now, neither Benbow nor
Roger hesitated to offer his allegiance to William and Mary.
Battiscombe had long been anxious to go home and comfort his father, and
he easily obtained leave from the Commodore to take his frigate round to
Lyme, and Roger obtained leave to go with him. With joyous hearts they
made sail. Roger led in the _Pearl_, and Stephen followed. From the
fact of his having kept to his adopted name, Mr Battiscombe was not
aware of his arrival, though the Colonel and Mr Willoughby were eagerly
looking out for Roger. They hired horses at Lyme, and set off,
accompanied by Charlie Ross. The day was advancing when they came in
sight of the Manor House. As they got near the house, they saw a young
lady walking at a brisk pace along the road, for the evening was cold.
She first gazed at Roger, and then at Charlie, who was a tall fair
youth, very like what Stephen had been. Turning round, she sprang
towards him, recognising in a moment her betrothed lover, still loved by
her. Throwing himself from his horse, their hands were clasped, and it
was some minutes before she thought of greeting her old playmate, Roger
Willoughby.
"It is but natural," he answered. "And right glad I am to bring honest
Stephen back to you, and I am sure the Colonel will be as glad as my
father."
Roger was not mistaken. A hearty greeting was given them by Madam
Pauline.
His duty to his father compelled Stephen, however, to set off for
Langton Hall sooner than he otherwise would have wished. Roger declared
that he must go with him. It was a mournful yet a joyous meeting:
mournful, as it recalled the death of poor Andrew; and joyful, not only
as he came back a free man, but having gained credit, honour, and a
considerable amount of prize-money. Stephen had no wish to continue in
the navy, for Captain Benbow had impressed upon him the fact that, if he
did, he must make his ship his wife, and he cherished the hope that he
might ere long recompense Alice, as far as he had the power, for her
long and devoted attachment to him. He had obtained permission from the
Commodore to leave his ship under the command of Charlie Ross. He knew
that she would be well looked after during his absence.
Among the captains who remained faithful to James was Captain Benbow,
although his crew, as well as those of most others, desired at once to
join William of Orange; but as soon as William and Mary had been
declared Sovereigns of England, he and many others, to the great
satisfaction of their crews, sailed up the Thames to offer their
allegiance. Shortly after this, Stephen and Roger received a summons
from their old captain to come up to London. They had there the honour
of being introduced to the King, who complimented them on their
gallantry, and confirmed them both in their rank, at he did also with
others who had followed Benbow, while he himself was permanently made a
Commodore. Stephen, however, thanking His Majesty for his kindness,
begged leave to retire from the service, while expressing his desire at
the same time to serve him on shore in whatever capacity the King might
think fit to employ him.
Roger returned with Stephen to the country, and was best man at his
marriage with Mistress Alice.
Roger stuck to his ship, and took an active part afterwards in the
relief of Derry. There was soon plenty to do, as the French at once
declared war against England, with the intention of replacing James
Stuart on the throne,--an event by God's Providence happily prevented.
There was one short adventure which took place early in Roger's career
that reminded him of his first meeting with an individual who afterwards
gained a name and fame in history. He was standing up channel in the
_Pearl_, when he fell in with a ship which mounted thirty-six guns.
Hoisting the British colours, he soon made out her number as the
_Nonsuch_. She had two other ships in tow, apparently her prizes, and
both considerably damaged. A signal was made for assistance, and the
_Pearl_ being hove-to, Roger went on board. He found that she had been
commanded by Captain Coyle, who had engaged two French ships off the
island of Guernsey, one mounting thirty, the other twenty-two guns, the
first being commanded by Captain Jean Bart and the other by Forbin.
Captain Coyle and the master, both brave officers, had been killed early
in the action, and there being no lieutenants on board, the command
devolved on the boatswain, Robert Simcock, who continued the fight. The
two French captains, who were very much out of spirits at being made
prisoners, were on board, and complained bitterly of the way in which
they were treated. Roger, introducing himself, spoke to Mr Simcock,
and invited his old acquaintance to come on board his ship, and
accompany him to Plymouth, to which port they were bound. Captain Bart
willingly agreed, provided his friend Captain Forbin had the same
advantage. "For, to tell the truth," he said, "our captor, though a
very gallant fellow, does not quite understand how to treat gentlemen."
They were not long in reaching Plymouth, when the Governor and other
officials received the two French captains with all courtesy, but, of
course, had to watch them carefully, and at night they and the doctor of
one of their ships were imprisoned in a strong room with iron-barred
windows. Of course Simcock was highly applauded for his gallantry.
Directly the news was received at the Admiralty, he was made a captain,
and appointed to the command of the ship in which he had so bravely
fought. Meantime the two gallant French captains were supposed to be
safely shut up in prison, though treated all the time with every
consideration. On the morning they were to have been carried up to
London, it was found that the whole of the trapped birds had escaped,
with exception of the stout lieutenant, who had a wounded leg, but had
been so fast asleep that he had not the slightest conception of what had
occurred.
"We shall meet again, my friend, some day," said Commodore Benbow when
he heard of it.
They did meet, for the Commodore was employed for several years
afterwards in blockading Dunkerque. The Frenchman frequently,
notwithstanding, managed to get out, and commit no small amount of
damage on English shipping; in truth, he fully merited the name he
obtained among his countrymen.
Benbow, now an Admiral, was frequently sent to the West Indies, when he
beat the enemy, and did much for English commerce. He set out on his
last expedition in September 1701, accompanied by his old and faithful
follower, Roger Willoughby. The manner in which several of his captains
cowardly betrayed him when he had the French in his power, is too well
known to be repeated. The French Admiral, Du Casse, though fully
expecting to be captured, for he was well aware of the cause, wrote to
Admiral Benbow a pithy letter, saying that he had indeed thought that
night to have supped in the Englishman's cabin, but as he had escaped
through the cowardice of some of his enemy's captains, he advised him to
hang them up forthwith. The Admiral, being badly wounded during the
fierce engagement which took place, directed himself to be placed in a
cradle while he remained on deck directing the operations till the
battle was over, when the fleet returned to Jamaica. Roger Willoughby
remained by his beloved chief during the court-martial which sat upon
the pusillanimous captains, and for a month afterwards, when the Admiral
sank under his wounds. After the Admiral's death, Roger Willoughby
returned to England, and among the first items of news he heard was that
the brave French Admiral, who had been born the same day as Benbow, had
also paid the debt of Nature. After this he served his country nobly
for several years, when at length, returning to Eversden Manor, he took
up his abode there, his father and uncle being dead, and Madam Pauline,
who had a life-interest in it, being its sole occupant.
Although the times of Benbow present subjects of great interest to those
who are fond of historical tales, the author has been unable to do more
than introduce a few of those he intended when he designed the work. He
hopes, notwithstanding, that his readers will not find it less
interesting than its many predecessors.