AFTER THE FIRE
Daylight brought little alleviation to the horrors of the scene. The
flames were less vivid, but a dense pall of smoke overhung the sky.
As soon as they had breakfasted, Captain Watson, his son, Captain
Dowsett, Nellie, and Cyril took their places in the boat, and were
rowed up the river. An exclamation burst from them all as they saw
how fast the flames had travelled since the previous evening.
"St. Paul's is on fire!" Cyril exclaimed. "See! there are flames
bursting through its roof. I think, Captain Watson, if you will put
me ashore at the Temple, I will make my way to Whitehall, and report
myself there. I may be of use."
"I will do that," Captain Watson said. "Then I will row back to the
ship again. We must leave a couple of hands on board, in case some of
these burning flakes should set anything alight. We will land with
the rest, and do what we can to help these poor women and children."
"I will stay on board and take command, if you like, Watson," Captain
Dave said. "You ought to have some one there, and I have not
recovered from yesterday's work, and should be of little use ashore."
"Very well, Dowsett. That will certainly be best; but I think it will
be prudent, before we leave, to run out a kedge with forty or fifty
fathoms of cable towards the middle of the stream, and then veer out
the cable on her anchor so as to let her ride thirty fathoms or so
farther out. We left six men sluicing her side and deck, but it
certainly would be prudent to get her out a bit farther. Even here,
the heat is as much as we can stand."
As soon as Cyril had landed, he hurried up into Fleet Street. He had
just reached Temple Bar when he saw a party of horsemen making their
way through the carts. A hearty cheer greeted them from the crowd,
who hoped that the presence of the King--for it was Charles who rode
in front--was a sign that vigorous steps were about to be taken to
check the progress of the flames. Beside the King rode the Duke of
Albemarle, and following were a number of other gentlemen and
officers. Cyril made his way through the crowd to the side of the
Duke's horse.
"Can I be of any possible use, my Lord Duke?" he asked, doffing his
hat.
"Ah, Sir Cyril, it is you, is it? I have not seen you since you
bearded De Ruyter in the _Fan Fan_. Yes, you can be of use. We have
five hundred sailors and dockyard men behind; they have just arrived
from Chatham, and a thousand more have landed below the Bridge to
fight the flames on that side. Keep by me now, and, when we decide
where to set to work, I will put you under the orders of Captain
Warncliffe, who has charge of them."
When they reached the bottom of Fleet Street, the fire was halfway
down Ludgate Hill, and it was decided to begin operations along the
bottom of the Fleet Valley. The dockyard men and sailors were brought
up, and following them were some carts laden with kegs of powder.
"Warncliffe," Lord Albemarle said, as the officer came up at the head
of them, "Sir Cyril Shenstone is anxious to help. You know him by
repute, and you can trust him in any dangerous business. You had
better tell off twenty men under him. You have only to tell him what
you want done, and you can rely upon its being done thoroughly."
The sailors were soon at work along the line of the Fleet Ditch. All
carried axes, and with these they chopped down the principal beams of
the small houses clustered by the Ditch, and so weakened them that a
small charge of powder easily brought them down. In many places they
met with fierce opposition from the owners, who, still clinging to
the faint hope that something might occur to stop the progress of the
fire before it reached their abodes, raised vain protestations
against the destruction of their houses. All day the men worked
unceasingly, but in vain. Driven by the fierce wind, the flames swept
down the opposite slope, leapt over the space strewn with rubbish and
beams, and began to climb Fleet Street and Holborn Hill and the dense
mass of houses between them.
The fight was renewed higher up. Beer and bread and cheese were
obtained from the taverns, and served out to the workmen, and these
kept at their task all night. Towards morning the wind had fallen
somewhat. The open spaces of the Temple favoured the defenders; the
houses to east of it were blown up, and, late in the afternoon, the
progress of the flames at this spot was checked. As soon as it was
felt that there was no longer any fear of its further advance here,
the exhausted men, who had, for twenty-four hours, laboured, half
suffocated by the blinding smoke and by the dust made by their own
work, threw themselves down on the grass of the Temple Gardens and
slept. At midnight they were roused by their officers, and proceeded
to assist their comrades, who had been battling with the flames on
the other side of Fleet Street. They found that these too had been
successful; the flames had swept up to Fetter Lane, but the houses on
the west side had been demolished, and although, at one or two
points, the fallen beams caught fire, they were speedily
extinguished. Halfway up Fetter Lane the houses stood on both sides
uninjured, for a large open space round St. Andrew's, Holborn, had
aided the defenders in their efforts to check the flames. North of
Holborn the fire had spread but little, and that only among the
poorer houses in Fleet Valley.
Ascending the hill, they found that, while the flames had overleapt
the City wall from Ludgate to Newgate in its progress west, the wall
had proved an effective barrier from the sharp corner behind
Christchurch up to Aldersgate and thence up to Cripplegate, which was
the farthest limit reached by the fire to the north. To the east, the
City had fared better. By the river, indeed, the destruction was
complete as far as the Tower. Mark Lane, however, stood, and north of
this the line of destruction swept westward to Leaden Hall, a massive
structure at the entrance to the street that took its name from it,
and proved a bulwark against the flames. From this point, the line of
devastated ground swept round by the eastern end of Throgmorton
Street to the northern end of Basinghall Street.
Cyril remained with the sailors for two days longer, during which
time they were kept at work beating out the embers of the fire. In
this they were aided by a heavy fall of rain, which put an end to all
fear of the flames springing up again.
"There can be no need for you to remain longer with us, Sir Cyril,"
Captain Warncliffe said, at the end of the second day. "I shall have
pleasure in reporting to the Duke of Albemarle the good services that
you have rendered. Doubtless we shall remain on duty here for some
time, for we may have, for aught I know, to aid in the clearing away
of some of the ruins; but, at any rate, there can be no occasion for
you to stay longer with us."
Cyril afterwards learnt that the sailors and dockyard men were, on
the following day, sent back to Chatham. The fire had rendered so
great a number of men homeless and without means of subsistence, that
there was an abundant force on hand for the clearing away of ruins.
Great numbers were employed by the authorities, while many of the
merchants and traders engaged parties to clear away the ruins of
their dwellings, in order to get at the cellars below, in which they
had, as soon as the danger from fire was perceived, stowed away the
main bulk of their goods. As soon as he was released from duty, Cyril
made his way to the Tower, and, hiring a boat, was rowed to the _Good
Venture_.
The shipping presented a singular appearance, their sides being
blistered, and in many places completely stripped of their paint,
while in some cases the spars were scorched, and the sails burnt
away. There was lively satisfaction at his appearance, as he stepped
on to the deck of the _Good Venture_, for, until he did so, he had
been unrecognised, so begrimed with smoke and dust was he.
"We have been wondering about you," Captain Dave said, as he shook
him by the hand, "but I can scarce say we had become uneasy. We
learnt that a large body of seamen and others were at work blowing up
houses, and as you had gone to offer your services we doubted not
that you were employed with them. Truly you must have been having a
rough time of it, for not only are you dirtier than any scavenger,
but you look utterly worn out and fatigued."
"It was up-hill work the first twenty-four hours, for we worked
unceasingly, and worked hard, too, I can assure you, and that
well-nigh smothered with smoke and dust. Since then, our work has
been more easy, but no less dirty. In the three days I have not had
twelve hours' sleep altogether."
"I will get a tub of hot water placed in your cabin," Captain Watson
said, "and should advise you, when you get out from it, to turn into
your bunk at once. No one shall go near you in the morning until you
wake of your own accord."
Cyril was, however, down to breakfast.
"Now tell us all about the fire," Nellie said, when they had finished
the meal.
"I have nothing to tell you, for I know nothing," Cyril replied. "Our
work was simply pulling down and blowing up houses. I had scarce time
so much as to look at the fire. However, as I have since been working
all round its course, I can tell you exactly how far it spread."
When he brought his story to a conclusion, he said,--
"And now, Captain Dave, what are you thinking of doing?"
"In the first place, I am going ashore to look at the old house. As
soon as I can get men, I shall clear the ground, and begin to rebuild
it. I have enough laid by to start me again. I should be like a fish
out of water with nothing to see to. I have the most valuable part of
my stock still on hand here on deck, and if the cellar has proved
staunch my loss in goods will be small indeed, for the anchors and
chains in the yard will have suffered no damage. But even if the
cellar has caved in, and its contents are destroyed, and if, when I
have rebuilt my house, I find I have not enough left to replenish my
stock, I am sure that I can get credit from the rope- and sail-makers,
and iron-masters with whom I deal."
"Do not trouble yourself about that, Captain Dave," Cyril said. "You
came to my help last time, and it will be my turn this time. I am
sure that I shall have no difficulty in getting any monies that may
be required from Mr. Goldsworthy, and there is nothing that will give
me more pleasure than to see you established again in the place that
was the first where I ever felt I had a home."
"I hope that it will not be needed, lad," Captain Dave said, shaking
his hand warmly, "but if it should, I will not hesitate to accept
your offer in the spirit in which it is made, and thus add one more
to the obligations that I am under to you."
Cyril went ashore with Captain Dave and John Wilkes. The wall of the
yard was, of course, uninjured, but the gate was burnt down. The
store-house, which was of wood, had entirely disappeared, and the
back wall of the house had fallen over it and the yard. The entrance
to the cellar, therefore, could not be seen, and, as yet, the heat
from the fallen bricks was too great to attempt to clear them away to
get at it.
That night, however, it rained heavily, and in the morning Captain
Watson took a party of sailors ashore, and these succeeded in
clearing away the rubbish sufficiently to get to the entrance of the
cellar. The door was covered by an iron plate, and although the wood
behind this was charred it had not caught fire, and on getting it
open it was found that the contents of the cellar were uninjured.
In order to prevent marauders from getting at it before preparations
could be made for rebuilding, the rubbish was again thrown in so as
to completely conceal the entrance. On returning on board there was a
consultation on the future, held in the cabin. Captain Dave at once
said that he and John Wilkes must remain in town to make arrangements
for the rebuilding and to watch the performance of the work. Cyril
warmly pressed Mrs. Dowsett and Nellie to come down with him to
Norfolk until the house was ready to receive them, but both were in
favour of remaining in London, and it was settled that, next day,
they should go down to Stepney, hire a house and store-room there,
and remove thither their goods on board the ship, and the contents of
the cellar.
There was some little difficulty in getting a house, as so many were
seeking for lodgings, but at last they came upon a widow who was
willing to let a house, upon the proviso that she was allowed to
retain one room for her own occupation. This being settled, Cyril
that evening returned to his lodging, and the next day rode down to
Norfolk. There he remained until the middle of May, when he received
a letter from Captain Dave, saying that his house was finished, and
that they should move into it in a fortnight, and that they all
earnestly hoped he would be present. As he had already been thinking
of going up to London for a time, he decided to accept the
invitation.
By this time he had made the acquaintance of all the surrounding
gentry, and felt perfectly at home at Upmead. He rode frequently into
Norwich, and, whenever he did so, paid a visit to Mr. Harvey, whose
wife had died in January, never having completely recovered from the
shock that she had received in London. Mr. Harvey himself had aged
much; he still took a great interest in the welfare of the tenants of
Upmead, and in Cyril's proposals for the improvement of their homes,
and was pleased to see how earnestly he had taken up the duties of
his new life. He spoke occasionally of his son, of whose death he
felt convinced.
"I have never been able to obtain any news of him," he often said,
"and assuredly I should have heard of him had he been alive.
"It would ease my mind to know the truth," he said, one day. "It
troubles me to think that, if alive, he is assuredly pursuing evil
courses, and that he will probably end his days on a gallows. That he
will repent, and turn to better courses, I have now no hope whatever.
Unless he be living by roguery, he would, long ere this, have
written, professing repentance, even if he did not feel it, and
begging for assistance. It troubles me much that I can find out
nothing for certain of him."
"Would it be a relief to you to know surely that he was dead?" Cyril
asked.
"I would rather know that he was dead than feel, as I do, that if
alive, he is going on sinning. One can mourn for the dead as David
mourned for Absalom, and trust that their sins may be forgiven them;
but, uncertain as I am of his death, I cannot so mourn, since it may
be that he still lives."
"Then, sir, I am in a position to set your mind at rest. I have known
for a long time that he died of the Plague, but I have kept it from
you, thinking that it was best you should still think that he might
be living. He fell dead beside me on the very day that I sickened of
the Plague, and, indeed, it was from him that I took it."
Mr. Harvey remained silent for a minute or two.
"'Tis better so," he said solemnly. "The sins of youth may be
forgiven, but, had he lived, his whole course might have been wicked.
How know you that it was he who gave you the Plague?"
"I met him in the street. He was tottering in his walk, and, as he
came up, he stumbled, and grasped me to save himself. I held him for
a moment, and then he slipped from my arms and fell on the pavement,
and died."
Mr. Harvey looked keenly at Cyril, and was about to ask a question,
but checked himself.
"He is dead," he said. "God rest his soul, and forgive him his sins!
Henceforth I shall strive to forget that he ever lived to manhood,
and seek to remember him as he was when a child."
Then he held out his hand to Cyril, to signify that he would fain be
alone.
On arriving in London, Cyril took up his abode at his former
lodgings, and the next day at twelve o'clock, the hour appointed in a
letter he found awaiting him on his arrival, he arrived in Tower
Street, having ridden through the City. An army of workmen, who had
come up from all parts of the country, were engaged in rebuilding the
town. In the main thoroughfares many of the houses were already
finished, and the shops re-opened. In other parts less progress had
been made, as the traders were naturally most anxious to resume their
business, and most able to pay for speed.
Captain Dave's was one of the first houses completed in Tower Street,
but there were many others far advanced in progress. The front
differed materially from that of the old house, in which each story
had projected beyond the one below it. Inside, however, there was but
little change in its appearance, except that the rooms were somewhat
more lofty, and that there were no heavy beams across the ceilings.
Captain Dave and his family had moved in that morning.
"It does not look quite like the old place," Mrs. Dowsett said, after
the first greetings.
"Not quite," Cyril agreed. "The new furniture, of course, gives it a
different appearance as yet; but one will soon get accustomed to
that, and you will quickly make it home-like again. I see you have
the bits of furniture you saved in their old corners."
"Yes; and it will make a great difference when they get all my
curiosities up in their places again," Captain Dave put in. "We
pulled them down anyhow, and some of them will want glueing up a bit.
And so your fighting is over, Cyril?"
"Yes, it looks like it. The Dutch have evidently had enough of it.
They asked for peace, and as both parties consented to the King of
Sweden being mediator, and our representatives and those of Holland
are now settling affairs at Breda, peace may be considered as finally
settled. We have only two small squadrons now afloat; the rest are
all snugly laid up. I trust that there is no chance of another war
between the two nations for years to come."
"I hope not, Cyril. But De Witte is a crafty knave, and is ever in
close alliance with Louis. Were it not for French influence the
Prince of Orange would soon oust him from the head of affairs."
"I should think he would not have any power for mischief in the
future," Cyril said. "It was he who brought on the last war, and,
although it has cost us much, it has cost the Dutch very much more,
and the loss of her commerce has well-nigh brought Holland to ruin.
Besides, the last victory we won must have lowered their national
pride greatly."
"You have not heard the reports that are about, then?"
"No, I have heard no news whatever. It takes a long time for it to
travel down to Norwich, and I have seen no one since I came up to
town last night."
"Well, there is a report that a Dutch Fleet of eighty sail has put to
sea. It may be that 'tis but bravado to show that, though they have
begged for peace, 'tis not because they are in no condition to fight.
I know not how this may be, but it is certain that for the last three
days the Naval people have been very busy, and that powder is being
sent down to Chatham. As for the Fleet, small as it is, it is
doubtful whether it would fight, for the men are in a veritable state
of mutiny, having received no pay for many months. Moreover, several
ships were but yesterday bought by Government, for what purpose it is
not known, but it is conjectured they are meant for fire-ships."
"I cannot but think that it is, as you say, a mere piece of bravado
on the part of the Dutch, Captain Dave. They could never be so
treacherous as to attack us when peace is well-nigh concluded, but,
hurt as their pride must be by the defeat we gave them, it is not
unnatural they should wish to show that they can still put a brave
fleet on the seas, and are not driven to make peace because they
could not, if need be, continue the war."
"And now I have a piece of news for you. We are going to have a
wedding here before long."
"I am right glad to hear it," Cyril said heartily. "And who is the
happy man, Nellie?" he asked, turning towards where she had been
standing the moment before. But Nellie had fled the moment her father
had opened his lips.
"It is Frank Watson," her father said. "A right good lad; and her
mother and I are well pleased with her choice."
"I thought that he was very attentive the few days we were on board
his father's ship," Cyril said. "I am not surprised to hear the
news."
"They have been two voyages since then, and while the _Good Venture_
was in the Pool, Master Frank spent most of his time down at Stepney,
and it was settled a fortnight since. My old friend Watson is as
pleased as I am. And the best part of the business is that Frank is
going to give up the sea and become my partner. His father owns the
_Good Venture_, and, being a careful man, has laid by a round sum,
and he settled to give him fifteen hundred pounds, which he will put
into the business."
"That is a capital plan, Captain Dave. It will be an excellent thing
for you to have so young and active a partner."
"Watson has bought the house down at Stepney that we have been living
in, and Frank and Nellie are going to settle there, and Watson will
make it his headquarters when his ship is in port, and will, I have
no doubt, take up his moorings there, when he gives up the sea. The
wedding is to be in a fortnight's time, for Watson has set his heart
on seeing them spliced before he sails again, and I see no reason for
delay. You must come to the wedding, of course, Cyril. Indeed, I
don't think Nellie would consent to be married if you were not there.
The girl has often spoken of you lately. You see, now that she really
knows what love is, and has a quiet, happy life to look forward to,
she feels more than ever the service you did her, and the escape she
had. She told the whole story to Frank before she said yes, when he
asked her to be his wife, and, of course, he liked her no less for
it, though I think it would go hard with that fellow if he ever met
him."
"The fellow died of the Plague, Captain Dave. His last action was to
try and revenge himself on me by giving me the infection, for,
meeting me in the streets, he threw his arms round me and exclaimed,
'I have given you the Plague!' They were the last words he ever
spoke, for he gave a hideous laugh, and then dropped down dead.
However, he spoke truly, for that night I sickened of it."
"Then your kindness to Nellie well-nigh cost you your life," Mrs.
Dowsett said, laying her hand on his shoulder, while the tears stood
in her eyes. "And you never told us this before!"
"There was nothing to tell," Cyril replied. "If I had not caught it
from him, I should have, doubtless, taken it from someone else, for I
was constantly in the way of it, and could hardly have hoped to
escape an attack. Now, Captain Dave, let us go downstairs, and see
the store."
"John Wilkes and the two boys are at work there," the Captain said,
as he went downstairs, "and we open our doors tomorrow. I have
hurried on the house as fast as possible, and as no others in my
business have yet opened, I look to do a thriving trade at once.
Watson will send all his friends here, and as there is scarce a
captain who goes in or out of port but knows Frank, I consider that
our new partner will greatly extend the business."
Captain Watson and Frank came in at supper-time, and, after spending
a pleasant evening, Cyril returned to his lodgings in the Strand. The
next day he was walking near Whitehall when a carriage dashed out at
full speed, and, as it came along, he caught sight of the Duke of
Albemarle, who looked in a state of strange confusion. His wig was
awry, his coat was off, and his face was flushed and excited. As his
eye fell on Cyril, he shouted out to the postillions to stop. As they
pulled up, he shouted,--
"Jump in, Sir Cyril! Jump in, for your life."
Astonished at this address, Cyril ran to the door, opened it, and
jumped in, and the Duke shouted to the postillions to go on.
"What do you think, sir?--what do you think?" roared the Duke. "Those
treacherous scoundrels, the Dutch, have appeared with a great Fleet
of seventy men-of-war, besides fire-ships, off Sheerness, this
morning at daybreak, and have taken the place, and Chatham lies open
to them. We have been bamboozled and tricked. While the villains were
pretending they were all for peace, they have been secretly fitting
out, and there they are at Sheerness. A mounted messenger brought in
the news, but ten minutes ago."
"Have they taken Sheerness, sir?"
"Yes; there were but six guns mounted on the fort, and no
preparations made. The ships that were there did nothing. The rascals
are in mutiny--and small wonder, when they can get no pay; the money
voted for them being wasted by the Court. It is enough to drive one
wild with vexation, and, had I my will, there are a dozen men, whose
names are the foremost in the country, whom I would hang up with my
own hands. The wind is from the east, and if they go straight up the
Medway they may be there this afternoon, and have the whole of our
ships at their mercy. It is enough to make Blake turn in his grave
that such an indignity should be offered us, though it be but the
outcome of treachery on the part of the Dutch, and of gross
negligence on ours. But if they give us a day or two to prepare, we
will, at least, give them something to do before they can carry out
their design, and, if one could but rely on the sailors, we might
even beat them off; but it is doubtful whether the knaves will fight.
The forts are unfinished, though the money was voted for them three
years since. And all this is not the worst of it, for, after they
have taken Chatham, there is naught to prevent their coming up to
London. We have had plague and we have had fire, and to be bombarded
by the Dutchmen would be the crowning blow, and it would be like to
bring about another revolution in England."
They posted down to Chatham as fast as the horses could gallop. The
instant the news had arrived, the Duke had sent off a man, on
horseback, to order horses to be in readiness to change at each
posting station. Not a minute, therefore, was lost. In a little over
two hours from the time of leaving Whitehall, they drove into the
dockyard.
"Where is Sir Edward Spragge?" the Duke shouted, as he leapt from the
carriage.
"He has gone down to the new forts, your Grace," an officer replied.
"Have a gig prepared at once, without the loss of a moment," the Duke
said. "What is being done?" he asked another officer, as the first
ran off.
"Sir Edward has taken four frigates down to the narrow part of the
river, sir, and preparations have been made for placing a great chain
there. Several of the ships are being towed out into the river, and
are to be sunk in the passage."
"Any news of the Dutch having left Sheerness?"
"No, sir; a shallop rowed up at noon, but was chased back again by
one of our pinnaces."
"That is better than I had hoped. Come, come, we shall make a fight
for it yet," and he strode away towards the landing.
"Shall I accompany you, sir?" Cyril asked.
"Yes. There is nothing for you to do until we see exactly how things
stand. I shall use you as my staff officer--that is, if you are
willing, Sir Cyril. I have carried you off without asking whether you
consented or no; but, knowing your spirit and quickness, I felt sure
you would be of use."
"I am at your service altogether," Cyril said, "and am glad indeed
that your Grace encountered me, for I should have been truly sorry to
have been idle at such a time."
An eight-oared gig was already at the stairs, and they were rowed
rapidly down the river. They stopped at Upnor Castle, and found that
Major Scott, who was in command there, was hard at work mounting
cannon and putting the place in a posture of defence.
"You will have more men from London by to-morrow night, at the
latest," the Duke said, "and powder and shot in abundance was sent
off yesterday. We passed a train on our way down, and I told them to
push on with all speed. As the Dutch have not moved yet, they cannot
be here until the afternoon of to-morrow, and, like enough, will not
attack until next day, for they must come slowly, or they will lose
some of their ships on the sands. We will try to get up a battery
opposite, so as to aid you with a cross fire. I am going down to see
Sir Edward Spragge now."
Taking their places in the boat again, they rowed round the horseshoe
curve down to Gillingham, and then along to the spot where the
frigates were moored. At the sharp bend lower down here the Duke
found the Admiral, and they held a long consultation together. It was
agreed that the chain should be placed somewhat higher up, where a
lightly-armed battery on either side would afford some assistance,
that behind the chain the three ships, the _Matthias_, the _Unity_,
and the _Charles V._, all prizes taken from the Dutch, should be
moored, and that the _Jonathan_ and _Fort of Honinggen_--also a
Dutch prize--should be also posted there.
Having arranged this, the Duke was rowed back to Chatham, there to
see about getting some of the great ships removed from their moorings
off Gillingham, up the river. To his fury, he found that, of all the
eighteen hundred men employed in the yard, not more than half a dozen
had remained at their work, the rest being, like all the townsmen,
occupied in removing their goods in great haste. Even the frigates
that were armed had but a third, at most, of their crews on board, so
many having deserted owing to the backwardness of their pay.
That night, Sir W. Coventry, Sir W. Penn, Lord Brounker, and other
officers and officials of the Admiralty, came down from London. Some
of these, especially Lord Brounker, had a hot time of it with the
Duke, who rated them roundly for the state of things which prevailed,
telling the latter that he was the main cause of all the misfortunes
that might occur, owing to his having dismantled and disarmed all the
great ships. In spite of the efforts of all these officers, but
little could be done, owing to the want of hands, and to the refusal
of the dockyard men, and most of the sailors, to do anything. A small
battery of sandbags was, however, erected opposite Upnor, and a few
guns placed in position there.
Several ships were sunk in the channel above Upnor, and a few of
those lying off Gillingham were towed up. Little help was sent down
from London, for the efforts of the authorities were directed wholly
to the defence of the Thames. The train-bands were all under arms,
fire-ships were being fitted out and sent down to Gravesend, and
batteries erected there and at Tilbury, while several ships were sunk
in the channel.
The Dutch remained at Sheerness from the 7th to the 12th, and had it
not been for the misconduct of the men, Chatham could have been put
into a good state for defence. As it was, but little could be
effected; and when, on the 12th, the Dutch Fleet were seen coming up
the river, the chances of successful resistance were small.
The fight commenced by a Dutch frigate, commanded by Captain Brakell,
advancing against the chain. Carried up by a strong tide and east
wind the ship struck it with such force that it at once gave way. The
English frigates, but weakly manned, could offer but slight
resistance, and the _Jonathan_ was boarded and captured by Brakell.
Following his frigate were a host of fire-ships, which at once
grappled with the defenders. The _Matthias, Unity, Charles V._, and
_Fort of Honinggen_ were speedily in flames. The light batteries on
the shore were silenced by the guns of the Fleet, which then
anchored. The next day, six of their men-of-war, with five
fire-ships, advanced, exchanged broadsides, as they went along, with
the _Royal Oak_ and presently engaged Upnor. They were received with
so hot a fire from the Castle, and from the battery opposite, where
Sir Edward Spragge had stationed himself, that, after a time, they
gave up the design of ascending to the dockyard, which at that time
occupied a position higher up the river than at present.
The tide was beginning to slacken, and they doubtless feared that a
number of fire-barges might be launched at them did they venture
higher up. On the way back, they launched a fire-ship at the _Royal
Oak_, which was commanded by Captain Douglas. The flames speedily
communicated to the ship, and the crew took to the boats and rowed
ashore. Captain Douglas refused to leave his vessel, and perished in
the flames. The report given by the six men-of-war decided the Dutch
not to attempt anything further against Chatham. On the 14th, they
set fire to the hulks, the _Loyal London_ and the _Great James_,
and carried off the hulk of the _Royal Charles_, after the English
had twice tried to destroy her by fire. As this was the ship in which
the Duke of Albemarle, then General Monk, had brought the King over
to England from Holland, her capture was considered a special triumph
for the Dutch and a special dishonour to us.
The Duke of Albemarle had left Chatham before the Dutch came up. As
the want of crews prevented his being of any use there, and he saw
that Sir Edward Spragge would do all that was possible in defence of
the place, he posted back to London, where his presence was urgently
required, a complete panic reigning. Crowds assembled at Whitehall,
and insulted the King and his ministers as the cause of the present
misfortunes, while at Deptford and Wapping, the sailors and their
wives paraded the streets, shouting that the ill-treatment of our
sailors had brought these things about, and so hostile were their
manifestations that the officials of the Admiralty scarce dared show
themselves in the streets.
Cyril had remained at Chatham, the Duke having recommended him to Sir
Edward Spragge, and he, with some other gentlemen and a few sailors,
had manned the battery opposite Upnor.
The great proportion of the Dutch ships were still at the Nore, as it
would have been dangerous to have hazarded so great a fleet in the
narrow water of the Medway. As it was, two of their men-of-war, on
the way back from Chatham, ran ashore, and had to be burnt. They had
also six fire-ships burnt, and lost over a hundred and fifty men.
Leaving Admiral Van Ness with part of the Fleet in the mouth of the
Thames, De Ruyter sailed first for Harwich, where he attempted to
land with sixteen hundred men in boats, supported by the guns of the
Fleet. The boats, however, failed to effect a landing, being beaten
off, with considerable loss, by the county Militia; and Ruyter then
sailed for Portsmouth, where he also failed. He then went west to
Torbay, where he was likewise repulsed, and then returned to the
mouth of the Thames.
On July 23rd, Van Ness, with twenty-five men-of-war, sailed up the
Hope, where Sir Edward Spragge had now hoisted his flag on board a
squadron of eighteen ships, of whom five were frigates and the rest
fire-ships. A sharp engagement ensued, but the wind was very light,
and the English, by towing their fire-ships, managed to lay them
alongside the Dutch fire-ships, and destroyed twelve of these with a
loss of only six English ships. But, the wind then rising, Sir Edward
retired from the Hope to Gravesend, where he was protected by the
guns at Tilbury.
The next day, being joined by Sir Joseph Jordan, with a few small
ships, he took the offensive, and destroyed the last fire-ship that
the Dutch had left, and compelled the men-of-war to retire. Sir
Edward followed them with his little squadron, and Van Ness, as he
retired down the river, was met by five frigates and fourteen
fire-ships from Harwich. These boldly attacked him. Two of the Dutch
men-of-war narrowly escaped being burnt, another was forced ashore
and greatly damaged, and the whole of the Dutch Fleet was compelled
to bear away.
While these events had been happening in the Thames, the negotiations
at Breda had continued, and, just as the Dutch retreated, the news
came that Peace had been signed. The Dutch, on their side, were
satisfied with the success with which they had closed the war, while
England was, at the moment, unable to continue it, and the King,
seeing the intense unpopularity that had been excited against him by
the affair at Chatham, was glad to ratify the Peace, especially as we
thereby retained possession of several islands we had taken in the
West Indies from the Dutch, and it was manifest that Spain was
preparing to join the coalition of France and Holland against us.
A Peace concluded under such circumstances was naturally but a short
one. When the war was renewed, three years later, the French were in
alliance with us, and, after several more desperate battles, in which
no great advantages were gained on either side, the Dutch were so
exhausted and impoverished by the loss of trade, that a final Peace
was arranged on terms far more advantageous to us than those secured
by the Treaty of 1667. The De Wittes, the authors of the previous
wars, had both been killed in a popular tumult. The Prince of Orange
was at the head of the State, and the fact that France and Spain were
both hostile to Holland had reawakened the feeling of England in
favour of the Protestant Republic, and the friendship between the two
nations has never since been broken.
Cyril took no part in the last war against the Dutch. He, like the
majority of the nation, was opposed to it, and, although willing to
give his life in defence of his country when attacked, felt it by no
means his duty to do so when we were aiding the designs of France in
crushing a brave enemy. Such was in fact the result of the war; for
although peace was made on even terms, the wars of Holland with
England and the ruin caused to her trade thereby, inflicted a blow
upon the Republic from which she never recovered. From being the
great rival of England, both on the sea and in her foreign commerce,
her prosperity and power dwindled until she ceased altogether to be a
factor in European affairs.
After the Peace of Breda was signed, Cyril went down to Upmead,
where, for the next four years, he devoted himself to the management
of his estate. His friendship with Mr. Harvey grew closer and warmer,
until the latter came to consider him in really the light of a son;
and when he died, in 1681, it was found that his will was unaltered,
and that, with the exception of legacies to many of his old employés
at his factory, the whole of his property was left to Cyril. The
latter received a good offer for the tanyard, and, upon an estate
next to his own coming shortly afterwards into the market, he
purchased it, and thus the Upmead estates became as extensive as they
had been before the time of his ancestor, who had so seriously
diminished them during the reign of Elizabeth.
His friendship with the family of the Earl of Wisbech had remained
unaltered, and he had every year paid them a visit, either at Wisbech
or at Sevenoaks. A year after Mr. Harvey's death, he married Dorothy,
who had previously refused several flattering offers.
Captain Dave and his wife lived to a good old age. The business had
largely increased, owing to the energy of their son-in-law, who had,
with his wife and children, taken up his abode in the next house to
theirs, which had been bought to meet the extension of their
business. John Wilkes, at the death of Captain Dave, declined Cyril's
pressing offer to make his home with him.
"It would never do, Sir Cyril," he said. "I should be miserable out
of the sight of ships, and without a place where I could meet
seafaring men, and smoke my pipe, and listen to their yarns."
He therefore remained with Frank Watson, nominally in charge of the
stores, but doing, in fact, as little as he chose until, long past
the allotted age of man, he passed quietly away.