Captain Deane and his companions had a prosperous voyage up the
Delaware, and in two days the buildings of the new city appeared in
sight, standing at the junction of the Delaware and the Schuylkill. The
Delaware is a noble stream, and the Schuylkill is as broad at its mouth
as the Thames is at Woolwich. The banks of the great river above which
the town was laid out were bold and high, the air pure and wholesome,
while the neighbouring lands were free from swamps. Altogether the site
was one admirably fitted for the purpose of a great city. Clay for
making bricks was found on the spot, and quarries of good stone abounded
within a few miles. Already the city was laid out according to the
design of its sagacious founder, but as yet, although a considerable
number of houses had been erected near to each other, forming streets,
many were only scattered about here and there, according as the owners
had purchased their town lots. Two streets, one of them facing a
magnificent row of red pines, were planned to front the rivers. The
great public thoroughfare alone separated the houses from the banks. It
was arranged that these streets were to be connected by the High Street,
a magnificent avenue perfectly straight and a hundred feet in width, to
be adorned with trees and gardens. At a right angle with the High
Street a broad street of equal width was to cut the city in two from
north to south. It was thus divided into four sections. In the exact
centre of the city, a large square of ten acres was reserved for the
advantage of the public, and in the middle of each quarter a smaller
square of eight acres was set apart for the same purpose. Eight
streets, each fifty feet wide, were to be built parallel to the High
Street, and twenty of the same width parallel to the rivers. Mr Penn's
great object was to give a rural appearance to the houses of his new
city. The boat reached the shore before a large building, which from
the sign-board swinging in front of it, on which a large blue anchor was
painted, was known to be a house of entertainment Deane and his
companions, hauling up their boat, hastened towards it, as he hoped
there to obtain the information as to where Giles Dainsforth and his
sister were to be found. This building was then one of the most
important in the province. It was not only a beer-house, but an
exchange, a corn-market, and a post-office. It was formed of large
rafters of wood, the interstices being filled with bricks, which had
been brought in the vessels from England, in the same manner as houses
to be found in Cheshire, and some built in the Tudor and Stuart periods.
Already a magnificent quay of three hundred feet in length had been
formed by the side of the river, and there were also stone houses with
pointed roofs, and balconies, and porches, in different parts. Although
in some portions of the city pine-trees and pine-stumps still remained,
altogether upwards of a thousand houses had been erected. Among them
was a large building devoted to the purposes of a public school or
college. A printing-press had long been established in the city by
William Bradford, a native of Leicester, who had accompanied Mr Penn in
the "Welcome." Deane had, however, but little inclination to view the
city until he had found his way to the house of his sister and
brother-in-law. He had no great difficulty in discovering it, for Giles
Dainsforth was already well-known as a man of mark, as sagacious,
steady, and industrious men are sure to be in a new settlement.
"There is friend Dainsforth's house," said a worthy citizen to whom
Deane addressed himself; and he saw before him a fine and substantial
stone building, with a broad verandah surrounded by trees and flowering
shrubs. A gentle voice reached his ears, singing an air he knew well.
The door stood open and he entered. Passing through the house, he saw
seated on a lawn, beneath the shade of the building, three ladies, while
the same number of young children played about them. The nearest he
recognised as his sister Kate, though grown into more matronly
proportions than when he last had seen her. Near her was a fair girl.
He required not a second glance to convince him that she was Elizabeth.
He hurried forward, forgetting how he might startle them. A cry of
delight escaped Elizabeth as she advanced to meet him. In another
minute he found himself in the arms of his sister, while a sob of joy
escaped from her companion's bosom.
"He's come! he's come!" she exclaimed; "I knew he would find us out."
The third lady was Mistress Pearson. She looked careworn and aged, as
if her life had well-nigh come to an end.
Their history was soon told. When at length Captain Davis was ordered
to visit the plantations, previous to returning to England, he obtained
permission to receive them on board and to convey them home. When the
ship was cast away, they, with a few only of the crew, had been rescued.
The captain, however, although he was the last to leave the ship, had
also been saved. Deane had fortunately told Elizabeth of the marriage
of Giles Dainsforth to his sister, and of their intention of settling in
Pennsylvania. On their arrival, therefore, at Philadelphia, hearing his
name, she made herself known to him, and it was thus that she and
Mistress Pearson became inmates of his house.
In a short time Giles Dainsforth himself, accompanied by Captain Davis,
arrived at the house, and a happy party were soon assembled round the
supper-table. Deane heard a great deal of the flourishing condition of
the plantation, and of its vast internal resources. He heard, too, from
Dainsforth, that the settlers had resolved not to allow the importation
of slaves into the colony. They had established it because they
themselves loved freedom, and they were resolved to employ free men
alone in the cultivation of their lands. He also heard that the whole
territory had been purchased from the native tribes, and that not the
life of a single red man had been taken away by the settlers since their
arrival in the country. From the first, they had lived on the most
friendly terms with the native tribes. This was indeed glorious news,
especially in those days, when the traffic in negroes was looked upon as
lawful, and when in most instances might made right in all parts of the
world. Altogether the account which Deane received of the colony was so
favourable that he could not help longing to come and settle in it. He
had, however, promised to bring Elizabeth back to her parents, and poor
Mistress Pearson also was very anxious to lay her bones in her native
land. Captain Davis likewise desired to return home on the first
opportunity, that he might stand his trial for the loss of his ship,
which he considered himself in honour bound to do. Deane, however,
resolved not to run the risk of again being separated from Elizabeth.
She having no legal guardian, he instituted himself as such, and then
gave himself permission to marry her, which she, nothing loath,
consented to do forthwith. The marriage was celebrated with such
religious and legal ceremonies as were then considered sufficient in
Philadelphia. Colonel Markham, the acting governor, being one of the
witnesses. Jack and his bride, accompanied by Captain Davis and his
sister, soon afterwards embarked on board a stout ship sailing for
England. They arrived safely in London, whence Jack wrote to Norwich to
announce his safe return.
A few days were spent in the great city, that Elizabeth might recruit
her strength after her voyage. During his stay there, he met with an
old brother officer, Captain Bertrand, who, hailing him with pleasure,
told him that he was the very man he was looking out for.
"I have taken service," he said, "with the permission of the British
Government, under the Czar of Russia, the Great Peter, for such he is
indeed. You will remember his labouring as a shipwright in England not
many years since, to gain a knowledge of ship-building He is now
constructing a large fleet, and he is anxious to secure the services of
a number of active and intelligent officers like yourself. What do you
say? I can promise you handsome pay, and the command of a
line-of-battle ship."
Deane replied that he must think about it, as he had only lately married
a wife, and had no inclination to leave her.
"Oh, you must bring her with you!" was the answer. "You can establish
her in the new city the Czar is building on the Neva; and, depend upon
it, you will have no long cruises to make. Foreign officers can be
found; but he will have a difficulty in making seamen out of his serfs.
Free men only are fit to become seamen, in my opinion."
Captain Deane begged that his friend would give him his address, and
should he determine to accept his offer, after he had visited his
friends, he would communicate with him. Leaving the unhappy Mistress
Pearson with her brother, Deane set forward in a coach with his bride
for Norwich. He had fortunately been able to procure the balance of
prize-money due to him while he was in London, which amounted to a
considerable sum, and he was thus, in spite of his heavy loss in the
"Nottingham Galley," no longer crippled by want of means.
Words can scarcely describe the joy with which Madame de Mertens and her
husband received their long-lost daughter. Though she had grown from a
young child into a woman, they immediately recognised her, while the
trinkets she had preserved prevented them having any doubt about the
matter. After spending some time at Norwich, and receiving great
kindness from the excellent Mr Gournay and his lady, the young couple
repaired to Nottingham.
The loss of the "Nottingham Galley," however, caused Jack to be more
coolly received by his friends than he had anticipated. In vain he
tried to explain to them that they should find fault with the elements
more than with him for the ill-success of their speculation. He
undertook, if it was their wish, to command another galley, and to
embark all his property in the enterprise. To this, however, none of
them would agree. Yet there were two of his friends who received him in
a different manner to the rest--his sister Polly and his sister-in-law
Alethea. Prosperity had not improved his brother Jasper, and he
appeared to be more bitter than any of the family who suffered from the
wreck of the galley. A reconciliation was however at last brought about
by cousin Nat and Polly. Jack had been dining at the house of his
sister and her husband, where he met Jasper, to whose house in
Fletcher-gate he agreed to walk in the evening. On their way, some
remarks made by Dr Jasper irritated John Deane, as he considered them
unfair and unjust, and angry words were heard by some of the passers-by,
uttered by him to his brother. They reached the door together. A
flight of stone steps led to it from the street. Unhappily, at this
moment the doctor repeated the expressions which had justly offended the
captain, who declared that he would not allow himself to be addressed in
so injurious a manner. As he spoke he pushed impatiently past his
brother, who at that moment stumbled down the steps. The doctor fell;
and as Captain Deane stooped to lift him up, to his horror, he found
that he was dead! Rumour, with her hundred tongues, forthwith spread
the report that the fire-eating captain had killed his brother. The
verdict however of the jury who sat to decide the case was, that Dr
Jasper Deane had died by the visitation of God. Still Captain Deane was
conscious of the angry feelings which had excited his bosom at the
moment, and he felt that the mark of Cain was upon his forehead. He
could no longer remain at home, and though those who loved him best knew
of his innocence, and did their utmost to console him, he determined to
leave the country. He accordingly wrote to Captain Bertrand, accepting
his offer of a naval command under the Czar of Russia; and in a short
time he and Elizabeth sailed for the Baltic. He rendered great
assistance in organising the navy of that wonderful man Peter the Great,
and after serving with much credit for a few years, he returned to
England.
Captain Deane had during this time found a number of friends, and by
their means he was soon afterwards appointed English consul at Ostend,
where he lived with his wife Elizabeth till they were both advanced in
life. As an elderly couple they came back to Nottingham once more, and
went to live in the sweet village of Wilford, on the opposite side of
the silvery Trent. It was the peaceful green retreat that had beckoned
him back to England from many a scene of foreign grandeur, and smiled
across many a time of tumult and of battle. He and his wife both loved
the Dutch home where they had so long lived, and when he built a house
for himself in a thorough English village, he constructed it in the
Dutch style, which indeed in his early youth had been the very height of
fashion. Next to his own, behind the same trim garden and row of
silvery poplars, he built one also for his sister Polly, who was then a
widow. Alethea, after the death of her husband, had returned to Harwood
Grange with her children, and devoted herself to them, endeavouring so
to bring them up that they might love and serve God. She by this time
had also gone to her rest; so also had most of those who have been
mentioned in the previous history. Mistress Pearson did not live long
after her return to England, and she was saved the misery of hearing the
tragical death of her husband, who, with all his faults, had at all
events loved her. In a desperate action with a Queen's ship, he with
all his crew had been blown up, shortly after Deane had encountered him
at the mouth of the Delaware.
The tomb of John Deane, Captain RN, and of Elizabeth his wife, is to be
seen on a little green promontory above the sparkling Trent and near the
chancel of the parish church, where sweet strains of music, accompanying
the sound of human voices and the murmurs of the river, are wont to
mingle in harmonious hymns of prayer and praise. A more fitting spot in
which to await in readiness for the last hour of life than Wilford can
scarcely be imagined, nor a sweeter place than its church-yard in which
the mortal may lie down to rest from toil till summoned by the last
trump to rise and put on immortality.