It was no easy matter to find a place in which to write a letter on
board. Jack, however, got a board for a desk, and, sitting down near a
port on the deck, wrote to Ned Burdale's widow, according to the address
given him, telling her of her husband's death, and directing her how at
once to apply for her pension. He promised also to go and see her if he
could possibly manage the journey, and bring a few things which Ned had
left to her and her boy, begging her, if she ever moved away, to write
to him at Nottingham, that he might know how to find her.
So busily were all hands employed in refitting the ship, aided by extra
carpenters and riggers, that Jack was unable to obtain even an hour's
leave on shore. Immediately the ship was ready for sea, Blue Peter was
hoisted, the anchor was run up to the bows, and under all sail she stood
down the Sound.
Captain Jumper was worthy of his name. A more active officer was not to
be found; and he soon made himself as much feared by the French as were
Admiral Benbow, Sir Cloudesley Shovel, Sir George Rooke, and Captain
Dilkes, who was soon to become an Admiral. Under such a commander John
Deane had many opportunities of distinguishing himself. A squadron, of
which the "Weymouth" formed a part, was sent in to attack the Island of
Rhe and Belleisle, accompanied by several bomb-vessels. Saint Martin's
was bombarded, and several small towns and villages were burned and
plundered. The loss the French suffered on this occasion induced them
to go to great expense in defending their coast, the cost to them being
far greater than was that to the English in attacking it. Jack
volunteered on all occasions of this sort, and on all cutting-out
expeditions, and had thus an opportunity of bringing himself before the
notice of his captain. As the "Weymouth" was standing off and on the
French coast, several vessels, supposed by their size to be privateers,
were seen at anchor within a small harbour, guarded by a fort. As these
vessels, if allowed to get out, would probably commit great havoc among
the English merchant shipping, it was very important to destroy them.
An expedition was accordingly planned by Captain Jumper for that
purpose. It was likely, however, to be a dangerous one, as the boats
could not get in without passing under the fire of the fort, while the
privateers themselves were likely to be prepared with springs on their
cables, and guns ready to receive their assailants. Captain Jumper
therefore resolved, as is usual on such occasions, to send in only those
who would volunteer for the expedition. He had no lack, however, of men
ready to undertake it. The more daring and desperate, the more it
suited the taste of his brave crew. He had himself proposed to go in
command of it; but his second lieutenant begged that he might have that
honour. Among the first who volunteered was John Deane. The captain
ordered four boats to be prepared, carrying in all fifty men. John
Deane was in the boat with the first lieutenant, Mr Cammock, the leader
of the expedition. The third lieutenant and two master's mates
commanded the other boats. To mislead the French, the frigate stood off
shore as evening approached, so that they might be led to believe that
she had gone altogether. The night being very dark, her return could
not be discovered. Jack and his shipmates, in the meantime, were busily
employed in re-sharpening their hangers, and looking to their pistols
and ammunition, putting in fresh flints, and seeing that they were not
likely to miss fire. By midnight the ship came off the mouth of the
harbour. The wind was off shore, so that she could lay to, and, at the
same time, no noise which might be made in lowering the boats would be
heard on shore. The boats were quickly lowered and manned, and with
muffled oars their brave leader, Lieutenant Cammock, pulled with steady
strokes towards the harbour. The outermost vessels were to be first
attacked. While two of the boats boarded one, the other two were to
attack the next. Their aim was to pass the fort without being
discovered. If they were seen, they were to pull rapidly by, in the
hopes that in the darkness the shot might not hit them.
Desperate as the work in which they were engaged was likely to prove,
John Deane felt a strange pleasure in the undertaking.
The dim outline of the shore was seen before them, and on one side the
straight line of the fort appeared up against the sky, though as yet the
masts of the vessels could not be discerned. There was no doubt,
however, of their being on the right course. Not a word was spoken.
The men scarcely dared to breathe as they pulled on, so anxious were
they to avoid discovery. Like a snake coiling its way among the grass,
the line of boats advanced steadily up the harbour. The fort was
passed. Deane thought he could hear the footsteps of the sentry as he
passed up and down; but as yet they were not seen or heard. Probably
not dreaming of an enemy approaching the harbour, he had neglected to
turn his eyes down towards the entrance. Now he burst forth in a song
about his distant home and its vine-clad hills. Jack could almost hear
the words as they came floating over the still water. The boats had got
some way up the harbour, and now the vessels which were to be attacked
appeared before them. Suddenly a sharp report of a musket was heard.
It was fired from the fort. The sounds of the oars borne from the
harbour must have reached the sentry's ears. Another shot succeeded it
from the same direction. The boats glided rapidly on. Lights were seen
on board the vessels, and several sharp reports of muskets told them
they were discovered. Not a moment was to be lost. The first vessel
was a large ship, probably mounting between twenty and thirty guns. Mr
Cammock ordered the boat next to him to board her along with him, while
the two latter boats were to attack the vessel astern of her, which was
not much inferior in size. The Frenchmen, roused from their sleep,
started up on deck to meet the English climbing up the sides with their
cutlasses in their teeth. Jack, following Mr Cammock, was among the
first on board. They were met by a party of the French, led by one of
their officers. On every side pistols were flashing and steel was
clashing furiously.
"Clear the decks of them, my lads!" cried Mr Cammock, as with his
hanger he rushed towards those who opposed him.
The Frenchmen gave way, so furious and sudden was the attack. Some
leaped overboard, others jumped down below, and others cried for
quarter. The lieutenant ordering the crew of the other boat to cut the
cable and make sail, cried out to Jack and his own boat's crew to follow
him, that they might take the next vessel. All obeyed with alacrity;
but the work was far more serious than that which had just been
performed, for the Frenchmen were on the alert and prepared to receive
the borders. In spite, however, of the pikes thrust at them, and the
pistols fired in their faces, the English climbed up the sides and made
good their footing on deck. Jack, with his trusty hanger in his hand,
kept close to the side of the brave lieutenant. The Frenchmen gathered
thickly before them, and a tall figure, whom by his dress Jack saw was
an officer, led them on, assailing Mr Cammock with great fury. His
sword was about to descend on the head of the English lieutenant, when
Jack, rushing between them, received the blow on his own blade,
returning it with such interest that the French officer stretched his
length on the deck. The fall of their leader discouraged the rest of
the crew. Although they once or twice rallied, they were driven
forward. Many were cut down, and others cried out for quarter. There
was no time to be lost in getting the vessels out, for it was very
evident that a greater number of the crew was on shore; and from the
lights which appeared on every side, and the shouts which reached them,
it was probable that they were coming off to the assistance of their
shipmates. The next vessel appeared to have still fewer people on
board.
"We cannot get her off," observed Mr Cammock, "but we can burn her,
perhaps."
"I will do it!" cried Jack. "Who will follow me?"
Several men instantly volunteered, and Jack, jumping into the boat, led
the way on board. The Frenchmen, perhaps, were not expecting an attack,
for they made no resistance. Jack had snatched a slow-match as he left
the other vessel. With this, light was set to different parts of the
ship on board which he now found himself. The astonished crew were
either drunk or frightened, and did nothing to put out the flames, but
were seen to lower a boat and jump into her. The work accomplished,
Jack returned to the last vessel which had been taken just as the cable
was cut and sail was made on her to carry her out of the harbour. So
rapidly did the flames of the vessel which had been set on fire burst
forth, that even she with difficulty escaped from them, while, as they
glided down the harbour, they were seen to extend to several other
vessels near.
"Deane, you have rendered an important service to-night," said Mr
Cammock, as Jack returned on board.
"I can make a favourable report of you to the captain, if we get safe
out of this, as I hope we may."
Scarcely a quarter of an hour had passed since the first vessel was
attacked, and four prizes, the reward of British valour, were now being
carried off down the harbour with a considerable number of prisoners on
board. They were not, however, to escape without molestation. The
other vessels which had hitherto escaped the flames, opened their fire
upon them, as did the fort; but the number of vessels, which kept some
little way apart from each other, prevented the French gunners from
taking very good aim. Several shots, however, struck the prizes. The
French prisoners on board were the chief sufferers. They, poor fellows!
shrieked out to their countrymen, entreating them not to fire, as
nothing they could do would stop the desperate Englishmen from carrying
off the vessels. Their voices, however, were probably not heard, and
their entreaties were certainly not attended to. The breeze, blowing
directly down the harbour, carried the prizes quickly clear of the fort,
and in a short time they were alongside the "Weymouth," which made sail,
and stood off with them towards the English coast.
Jack's heart beat high when the next morning he was summoned on the
quarter-deck, where the captain and several of his officers were
standing together. Jack stood hat in hand before the captain.
"Mr Cammock has spoken highly of your coolness and courage last night,
John Deane," he said. "He tells me also that you saved his life by
coming between him and an officer who would have cut him down. From
what has been told me, I believe you will do honour to the quarter-deck,
and I will therefore from this day rate you as a master's mate. It is
the first step in the ratlines, and I have no doubt, if you go on as you
have begun, that you will in time reach the top."
Jack's heart beat high at these words. He had hoped some day to become
an officer, but he had not expected so soon to attain his wishes, and he
was determined the captain's words should be verified, and that he would
lose no opportunity of distinguishing himself. He had already a fair
store of prize-money, so that he was able, without writing home, to fit
himself out as became an officer, not so difficult in those days as in
later years. He had no great fancy for gold lace suits, but a good
serviceable coat and cocked hat was more according to his taste. He
could now, however, write home with some degree of satisfaction, to say
that he had become an officer, and that he hoped by sticking to the
service to rise in the profession he had chosen. He certainly had a
longing at times to go home and see those he loved so dearly. Often a
vision of Alethea rose up before him, but still not without some doubts
as to the position he held with her.
It would be impossible to describe all the exploits performed by Captain
Jumper and his brave crew during the time the "Weymouth" was in
commission. Few ships remained a shorter time in harbour than she did,
and the crew might with a show of reason have complained of the hard
work they had to go through. They were, however, well satisfied with
the amount of prize-money which fell to their lot. Jack, in his new
position, got a good share of it, and found himself better supplied with
cash than he had ever before been in his life.
Some time passed away, when one day the "Weymouth" was standing towards
the French coast in the direction the wind blew to Saint Martin's, the
scene of some of her former exploits, when two vessels were seen to
leeward. From the cut of their sails and general appearance they were
known to be French.
Every stratagem is considered lawful in warfare. Captain Jumper
therefore hoisted the French ensign, and as he was running down before
the wind, the cut of his own sails could not so clearly be discerned, by
which the character of the "Weymouth" would have been discovered. The
two vessels for some time made no attempt to escape, believing probably
that the stranger in sight was really French, and wishing for some
reason or other to speak her. By yawing occasionally--that is moving
the ship's head from one side to the other--the French ensign was
visible to the two vessels to leeward. Thus the "Weymouth" was able to
get within gunshot of them before her character was discovered. Quickly
bracing up her yards, she poured a broadside into her two opponents,
which were close together. They were found to be two large galleys,
which carried some twenty guns on the upper-deck, and several on the
quarter-deck, while between-decks were small ports, out of which their
oars projected. They now began to work their oars, in the hopes of
placing themselves on the quarters of the "Weymouth," but before one of
them could do so, so tremendous a fire was poured into her that she was
rendered unmanageable, many of the unhappy galley-slaves having
apparently been killed, and her rudder shot away. The other galley
attempted to make her escape, but the "Weymouth," following her, treated
her in the same way that she had done her consort, and she was compelled
to strike her colours.
Boats were now lowered to take possession of the prizes. Deane was sent
on board the first, which lay almost a wreck on the waters. As he
clambered up the sides he gazed with horror on the scene of slaughter
which the decks presented. Numbers of the unhappy galley-slaves,
chained to their benches, lay cut in two, with limbs shot off, and
fearfully mangled in every possible way. Groans and cries ascended from
the survivors, though many had already, more fortunate than them, ceased
to breathe. A number of the crew had also been killed and wounded, and
the galley herself appeared to be in a sinking state. Deane made a
signal to the "Weymouth" to this effect, and begged that other boats
might be sent to rescue the crew. Calling on those who had charge of
the slaves, he ordered them immediately to knock off their shackles, he
and his men holding pistols to their heads, as they seemed rather
disinclined to obey the order. As soon as the poor fellows were
released, he had them at once placed in the boats, greatly to the anger
of the French crew, who considered that they ought first to have been
carried off. It is true that many of the slaves were ruffians of the
lowest order, sent to the galleys for their crimes; but Jack knew well,
also, that many were Huguenots, whose only crime was adhering to the
Protestant faith. At that moment it was difficult to discriminate
between them, and he therefore determined to carry off all at once. The
first cargo were quickly conveyed on board the "Weymouth," when the
boats returned for the survivors of the crew, with whom Deane and his
men had remained. He could not help looking anxiously for the return of
the boats, for every moment the water was rising higher and higher in
the hold of the prize. Again and again he urged the crew to man the
pumps, and endeavour to keep their vessel afloat, but they were in no
way disposed to do this, probably fearing that if the English returned
in time, they might save her altogether from sinking, and carry her off
as a prize. This the Frenchmen were anxious that their conquerors
should not do.
Once more, as the boats were seen approaching the galley for the
remainder of the crew, Deane went round the between-decks to ascertain
if any of the wounded slaves still remained alive. A low groan reached
his ears from a man who lay stretched out under one of the benches. The
chain was still round his leg. Deane raised up the man's head. Though
wounded, he was still perfectly conscious, and had become aware of the
dreadful fate awaiting him had he been overlooked. Deane shouted to
those on deck to come to his assistance. By the sound which the water
made rushing into the hold of the vessel, he was very sure she would not
float many minutes longer. To leave the poor man was contrary to his
nature, and yet to release him without knocking off the shackle was
impossible. The glance he had of the countenance of the wounded man
convinced him that he was not one of the low class of criminals which
formed a portion of the gang of galley-slaves, but that he was probably
a Huguenot. Deane heard those on deck shouting to the boats to make
haste as the galley was about to sink. At that moment one of his own
men, finding that he was not on deck, sprung down below to look for him.
Deane at once ordered him to bring the French master-at-arms with his
keys or chisel to emancipate the unfortunate prisoner. The Frenchman
pretended not to understand him, but a pistol placed at his head quickly
made him come below and take off the shackle which held the slave to the
bench. Jack in a moment, bearing the rescued man in his arms, leaped up
on deck just as the boats came alongside. The French crew made a spring
into them, for already they felt the galley sinking beneath their feet.
Jack had only just time to lower the man down and spring in after him
before the galley, rolling heavily, settled down under the water. The
boats rapidly pulled away from her, and in another minute she and the
mangled remains of humanity with which her decks were covered were hid
beneath the waves.
The rescued galley-slave warmly expressed his thanks to Deane for having
preserved his life. He had been struck on the head by a piece of one of
the oars shattered by a shot, and stunned. Little blood having flowed
from the wound, his strength was unimpaired.
"You have saved my life by your activity, young sir," he said, in broken
English, "and I am grateful to you; but, alas! when too probably all I
once loved on earth, my property, and my friends, will never again be
restored to me, I have, I own, but little to live for!"
"Cheer up, sir," answered Jack; "your Huguenot countrymen are always
welcome in England, and I doubt not that you will find many friends
among them; and at all events the English will receive you as one, if
you are, as I conclude, also a Huguenot."
"Yes, indeed I am!" was the answer. "The faith of the Gospel has
sustained me under all the trials and hardships I have gone through.
Though at times I have been cast down and fainted, I have once more
gained courage and determination to await calmly whatever Providence has
had in store for me."
On getting on board, Deane took the Huguenot to the captain, and
explained who he was. He, therefore, and others whom he named, were
separated from the rest of the prisoners, and treated as friends rather
than as captured enemies. Some of the slaves were, however, ruffians,
whom it was evident it would not be safe to leave at large. They
therefore were treated as the rest of the prisoners.
As the other galley was taken possession of, a ship was seen standing
out from under the land towards the "Weymouth," attracted probably by
the firing, and the English seamen exultingly hoped that they should
have another action to fight, and gain another prize. The Frenchman,
however, on discerning the fate of the two galleys, again kept away, and
ran back towards the land, taking shelter under the guns of the fort,
from which it would have been difficult to cut him out. The "Weymouth,"
with her prize, now stood up Channel. As she had now been several years
in commission, great hopes were entertained that she would be paid off.
Her crew were not disappointed; and, being ordered into Portsmouth,
those who had lived and fought for so long together were once again
separated and scattered in all directions.