At no time for many years had there been greater activity in the chief
naval ports of England than in February, 1696. All the ships in the
service were ordered to be brought forward, and as many more as could be
obtained were purchased for the Royal Navy. Officers and men eagerly
offered their services; indeed the enthusiasm of all ranks and
professions was very great. Numerous seamen from the merchant service
joined the navy, and there was no lack of volunteers eager to be
employed. A squadron lay in the Medway, fitting out as quickly as
stores could be brought on board them and the men could be collected.
Among them was the "Weymouth," a ship of forty guns, commanded by the
well-known Captain Jumper. Her sails were bent, and she only waited for
her powder to be brought on board to go to sea, as soon as she could
fill up with her proper complement of men. A boat had just come
alongside, and the first lieutenant reported that she contained a number
of volunteers.
Among the first who stepped on board was a fine, active-looking young
man, though, to the nautical eye, he had not much the look of a sailor.
"Where have you served before, my man?" asked Mr Cammock, the first
lieutenant; "and what do you know of seamanship?"
"I have served nowhere, please you, sir," was the answer, "but I am
ready to learn. And I know how to handle a cutlass, and shoot a
partridge or pheasant flying."
"You are the lad for us then," answered the officer. "What is your
name? We will enter you as a landsman; but you will soon make an able
seaman."
"John Deane, at your service, sir," answered our friend; for he it was
who, having put his purpose of joining the navy into execution, had
volunteered for the "Weymouth."
It was the first time he had ever stood on the deck of a ship. No
wonder then that he gazed about him with a look of astonishment, at the
guns thickly ranged on either side; at the numerous brass swivels and
other pieces which graced her quarters and forecastle, and the high
lanterns of brass astern; at the numberless ropes which led here and
there from the masts and spars, with their ends neatly coiled down on
deck; at the seamen, in their loose dresses, shirts, and trousers, with
belts round their waists, contrasting with the officers in their
three-cornered hats and long coats, laced with gold or silver, large
embroidered belts by which hung their rapiers--each dressed rather
according to his fancy and means, than to any authorised uniform.
A number of other men were then called up. Among the first was one
whose countenance Jack thought he knew. He looked at him several times,
till at length it struck him that it must be the very man who had guided
him to Pearson's farm in the fens--Ned Burdale. There was the same
sturdy, independent look, bold eye, and manner. What, however, had
induced him to enter on board a king's ship, Jack could not divine. At
all events, he felt it would be wise in him not to claim acquaintance
with a person of so doubtful a character.
He little expected to find any body else whom he had met before; but he
had not been long on board, when a seaman came up to him, and, putting
out his hand, exclaimed--
"What, Jack Deane, don't you know me?"
"Yes," said Jack, at last, wringing him by the hand; "but I should not
have recognised you in that dress and with that ugly cut down your
cheek, if I did not remember your voice."
"Yes; I have seen some service already," answered the seaman. "I have a
bullet through my leg, and this pretty little remembrance on my cheek;
but it's what we have to expect. We're paid for it, you know; and
besides, we give as good as we take, and that's a consolation."
"But what made you come to sea?" asked Jack. "I had no idea you had any
fancy that way."
"I may ask the same question of you, friend Deane," said Smedley, for it
was Jack's old poaching acquaintance. "The honest truth is, I found
Nottingham too hot to hold me, and so here I am come to serve his
majesty. It is a pretty hard life, I will own; but I have brought
myself into it, and so I have determined not to grumble."
"Well, I have my own reasons, too, Smedley, for coming to sea," said
Jack, "but you will excuse me if I don't explain them. I hope we may
both do our duty, and fight bravely for our country. That's what I have
come to sea for, with the hope of seeing a little more of the world than
I should if I had remained at Nottingham, or continued to drive oxen
between Scotland and Stourbridge."
Smedley, who had already been some weeks at sea, was able to give Jack a
good deal of instruction in his duties, and found him an apt scholar.
Jack was determined to make himself a seaman as soon as he could. From
morning till night he was employed in picking up information, and he
soon gained some knowledge in the arts of knotting and splicing. He
quickly, too, found his way aloft; and though at first he felt rather
giddy at the mast-head, his eye soon got accustomed to look down on the
deck below, and he could run out on the yards in a short time with any
man on board. He soon, indeed, surpassed Smedley himself. The man he
took to be Burdale, from the way he walked the deck, was evidently
accustomed to a sailor's life.
So rapidly were the ships got ready for sea, that in a short time a
large fleet was collected in the Downs under the command of Admiral
Russell. He had under him Lord Berkeley, Admiral of the Blue, and Sir
Cloudesley Shovel, Vice-Admiral of the Red; Mr Aylmer, Vice-Admiral of
the Blue, with two Dutch squadrons under two rear-admirals.
As soon as the fleet was collected, they set sail for the coast of
France, arriving shortly afterwards off Dunkirk. It was here that the
celebrated French Admiral, Jean Bart, held the command of a French
fleet. As the English fleet passed Calais, three or four hundred
vessels of all sorts were seen with their sails bent ready for sea. As
soon as the French saw the English fleet approaching Dunkirk, several of
their men-of-war ran close up to the pier. Hopes were now entertained
by the English crews that some fighting would take place. Sir
Cloudesley Shovel, with several captains, stood in towards Dunkirk, to
see if there was any possibility of burning the fleet. This, however,
was declared to be impracticable, and Admiral Russell therefore sailed
back to Dover, leaving a squadron under Sir Cloudesley Shovel, to watch
the movements of the enemy. A short time after this, Sir Cloudesley
Shovel, who had returned to the Downs, was ordered to take with him the
bomb-vessels, and such small ships as he should think necessary; and
attempt the burning of Calais with the transports, and other ships in
that harbour.
Calais was soon in sight. The English could see the harbour crowded
with vessels, which as they approached, however, ran close up under
their batteries where the ships could not get at them. The wind was off
shore, which gave them smooth water; and the squadron, in gallant style,
beat up as near to the town as the water would allow. They now
anchored, their men-of-war protecting the bomb-vessels, which instantly
commenced throwing shells into the place. It was a fine sight to see
them, like vast rockets, rising in the air and curling over, until they
fell into the devoted town.
For several hours the fiery shower continued. Now flames were seen to
burst out in one part of the town, now in another; and now the vessels
in the harbour caught fire; several in succession exploded. As each of
the enemy's vessels blew up, the English crews burst forth with loud
cheers, and redoubled their efforts. The enemy were not idle, but the
English ships were so placed that not many of the French shot did
damage. The shipping in the harbour suffered most, as the chief aim of
the English was to destroy them, and a large number of privateers were
blown up or burned. A strong wind was blowing when the action began,
and it continued increasing, till the squadron could with difficulty
hold their position before the town. Still the English persevered. A
large portion of the town was burnt down, and a considerable amount of
shipping was destroyed. Such would have been the fate of the whole, had
not the gale at length compelled Sir Cloudesley Shovel to throw out a
signal for retiring. This was done in good order, and the squadron
returned to the Downs.
Soon after this, a squadron of which the "Weymouth" formed one of the
ships, was sent to cruise off Dunkirk, where it was understood that Jean
Bart, with several ships of war, was still lying ready for sea.
Rear-Admiral Benbow was placed in command of this squadron; but on his
arrival before the place, he found the number of ships he had with him
too small to guard both channels; the weather, also, proving extremely
foggy, Du Bart slipped out, and, steering to the north-east, fell in
with the Dutch Baltic fleet of about a hundred sail, escorted by five
frigates, all of which he took, and above half the merchantmen. In the
midst of Du Bart's victory, he was surprised by the appearance of the
Dutch outward-bound Baltic fleet, under the convoy of thirteen
men-of-war, which so closely pursued him that he was obliged to abandon
most of his prizes. He burned four of the frigates, and putting their
crews on board the fifth, turned her adrift, which, with thirty-five of
the merchant-ships, were retaken. A fast galley brought this news to
Admiral Benbow, who immediately steered in pursuit of the French
squadron. The "Weymouth" was one of the leading ships.
Jack Deane, who was now rated as an able seaman, was constantly at the
mast-head looking out for the enemy, eager as any on board to come up
with them.
"Several sail ahead!" he shouted out one morning at daybreak.
There was no doubt that this was the enemy. The signal was thrown out
accordingly, and the English crowded all sail in chase. The wind,
however, which was in their favour, began to fall, and, greatly to their
disappointment, it became almost a calm. The Frenchmen, however,
retained the breeze, and were soon again out of sight.
In vain the English seamen whistled for a wind. Noon passed by, and
still they remained becalmed. Whether it was their whistling or not
produced the breeze, one sprung up towards evening, and the brave Benbow
steered after the French. Again they were discovered, and again lost
sight of. Once more their white canvas was seen ahead, and hopes were
entertained that they would be overtaken before they could reach the
shelter of Dunkirk, towards which they were steering. They, however,
made good use of their heels, and before a shot could reach them they
had run into Dunkirk.
The fleets of England were, however, enabled to punish the French
severely for their audacious project of invading our "tight little
island," and for their still more nefarious plan, which had been hatched
under the sanction of their king, for assassinating the constitutional
and Protestant monarch whom her people had chosen, and imposing on them
in his stead a Papist and a tyrant.
Jack kept his eyes and ears open, and picked up all the information he
could as to what was going forward in all directions. He had resolved
when he joined to become an officer, and he knew very well that the only
way of accomplishing his object was to attend strictly to his duties, to
be obedient to his superiors, and to gain all the information in his
power.
Among the novelties which had lately been introduced into the ships of
the Royal Navy were brass box-compasses. These were placed in front of
the steering-wheels, and were a great improvement upon the former
contrivances for the same object. A large number of ships having been
wrecked on the Eddystone Rock, off Plymouth, an application was made to
the Trinity House to erect a lighthouse on it, which was begun that very
year, and it was supposed that it would be completed in the course of
the next three years. The masters and owners of ships agreed to pay a
penny per ton outwards and inwards to assist in defraying the expense.
A register for thirty thousand seamen was established. They were to be
in readiness at all times for supplying the Royal Navy, and were to
receive a bounty of forty shillings yearly. On the 29th of January of
that year, the "Royal Sovereign," built in the reign of Charles the
First, and at that time the largest ship ever built in England, was by
accident burned at her moorings in Gillingham Reach, in the river
Medway.
"Well, Deane, and how do you like a sea life?" asked Smedley, after Jack
had been some time on board.
"I will tell you when I've been longer afloat," answered Jack. "From
what I have seen of it, I am ready to stick to it; that's what I've got
to say. And how do you like it?"
"To confess the truth, I am getting rather tired of it," answered
Smedley. "I thought it would be an easier life than I find it, but this
cruising up and down the Channel and blockading the enemy's ports is
trying work, and often I wish myself on shore again, taking a stroll or
galloping through Sherwood Forest."
"That's because you have not a right object in view," answered Jack.
"Now I have made up my mind to take the roughs and smooths as I find
them. If I get shot or wounded, it is the fate of many a better man;
and if I escape, I hope to fight my way up to wear a cocked hat and
laced coat."
"That's very well for you, Deane, because you were born a gentleman,"
said Smedley. "I came to sea because I could not help it: all about
that poaching affair, and the burning of the houses."
"I wish we had never engaged in it, I own," said Jack. "It has cost me
dear; and what I regret most is the injury it did my character in the
place, and the annoyance it must have caused my family when it was found
out."
"What do you mean?" asked Smedley. "I do not understand you."
"Why, that the man who met us on that night, and showed us how to spear
the salmon, told me that a warrant was out against me for poaching and
firing the huts, and that if I went back to Nottingham I should be sent
to prison," answered Jack.
"He told you a lie, then. Your name has never been mentioned in
connexion with the affair; and to this day, unless you have told any
body, I am very sure that no one in Nottingham knows any thing about
it."
"Then what object could Pearson have had for saying so?" said Jack.
"I have an idea," said Smedley; "I may be right or I may be wrong; and
from what you have told me of the man, he has just wanted to keep you
from going back to Nottingham. Why he did so I cannot exactly say,
except that he probably wanted to make use of you in some way or other."
The light at length burst on Jack's mind, and at once he saw the danger
of getting into bad company. Had he refrained from joining in that
fatal expedition, he would not have met Pearson; and if he had not met
Pearson, he would never have been drawn into the plot which had so
nearly cost him dear. Perhaps even his life might have been sacrificed
in consequence! He did not say this to Smedley, because he had
determined not to say any thing to him about the plot in which he had
been unintentionally mixed up.
"It shall be a lesson to me through life," he thought. "If a person
once associates with evil-disposed people, he knows not how soon he may
be led to do as they're doing."
Often he thought of honest Will Brinsmead and his wise sayings, and the
advice he had bestowed on him. Jack was every day becoming far more
thoughtful than he had been hitherto. He was living among a wild,
careless, rough set of men. Most of them were brave and honest; but
there were rogues and cowards among them. The greater number lived only
for the present moment, and were utterly thoughtless about the future.
Now, John Deane felt that he must either be drawn in to act as they were
acting, and to become like them, or he must keep himself as much as
possible aloof from them. This, however difficult it might be, he
determined to do.
In former days laws had been passed, not only to maintain a discipline
in the navy, but for regulating the moral conduct of the men. There
were regulations against profane swearing, or gambling, or fighting, or
quarrelling; and orders were issued for the performance of Divine
Service, not only on Sundays, but on weekdays, and on every occasion
before going into action with an enemy. Unhappily, however, by this
time this had become a dead-letter; and a general indulgence was allowed
to the seamen in all the vices which have been mentioned. The men were
also badly and tyrannically treated; and often their pay was kept back
from them. The provisions were frequently very bad, and the greater
number of men who were sent as surgeons on board the ships were grossly
ignorant of their professional duties. Still the love of adventure
existing in the breasts of English lads, the opportunities which seamen
enjoyed of obtaining prize-money, and the efforts of the press-gangs,
kept the Royal Navy tolerably supplied with men. A large number also
joined, whatever can be said to the contrary, from patriotic motives,
desirous of maintaining the honour of the British flag, protecting the
commerce of the country, and guarding their native shores from foreign
aggression. Such was the feeling which animated the breasts of
thousands when Jack Deane joined the navy. Such is the feeling which
has induced many thousands more on various occasions, when their country
needed their services to assist in manning her fleets.
It was a great relief to Jack Deane to find that he still maintained an
honourable name in his native town, and he at once wrote home in a
strain he had not before ventured to use, telling his father, to whom he
addressed his letter, that he had come to sea for the sake of fighting
for the cause of King William, and that he hoped when he returned home
to present himself in the rank of an officer.