I must now pass over a space of a year, there being but little of
interest to record. All this time it must not be imagined that I had
given up the quest for my father's murderer; indeed, as I grew older, my
thoughts of bringing the villain to justice waxed hotter instead of
waning. My uncle, Sir George Lee, and Lawyer Whitehead had each
prosecuted vigorous enquiries, but all attempts to run the felon to
earth had proved fruitless.
The loss of the mysterious metal box also caused me considerable
misgivings, and the vague hints thrown out by my uncle at sundry times
did much to increase my uneasiness on that score.
Meanwhile it seemed as if the earth had opened and swallowed both
Increase Joyce and the box (for in my mind the two were inseparably
associated), though I had a presentiment that I should obtain
satisfaction in the end.
But to resume my story. Twelve months sped swiftly by ere my physical
condition became as good as before my malady, and with the lengthening
days of January I entertained great hopes of going again to sea.
Rumours of a rupture with the States of Holland were in the air, and,
taking the aggressive action of the Dutchmen in mercantile matters into
consideration, the prospect of a war was hailed with delight.
One day early in February I went to call on my benefactor, Sir Thomas
Middleton, in the hope that he would get me appointed to a ship.
He received me kindly, but held out little hope of my desire being
fulfilled.
"Would that I could, Aubrey," he remarked sorrowfully. "My whole time
is spent in writing to Master Samuel Pepys praying for money to pay the
arrears of both seamen and workmen. God knows, the poor wretches are
hard put; but the money that should go for the defence of the realm
finds its way into the hands of His Majesty's favourites. There is a
new ship to be launched this month, but there is not a man belonging to
her except the officers, whose work is to look about them. Never did we
require cordage and hemp more than we do now. Fifteen ships now in port
are making demands for rope, and what we have in store signifies
nothing. The blockmakers and joiners have gone away, refusing to work
any longer without money; the sawyers threaten to do the same. I am even
now going the rounds of the yard, so if you will bear me company you can
see for yourself to what straits we are put."
So saying, the commissioner led the way to the dockyard, past the
ropehouse to the building slips, where a tall vessel lay ready for
launching, yet hardly a workman was to be seen. Instead, a mob of women
and children followed Sir Thomas at a distance, reviling and cursing the
king, the commissioner, and the navy in general by reason of the
non-payment of their husbands' and fathers' wages.
"Faith, 'tis hard on them," remarked Sir Thomas; "but for foulness of
tongue they out-vie the daughters of Billingsgate. Now, we'll make for
yonder workshop, for there will be found the only reliable men working
in the dockyard."
But alas for the commissioner's hopes! On entering the shop he found
that, instead of being diligently employed, the men were listening to a
heated discourse from a malcontent from another part of the dockyard.
This last straw raised Sir Thomas's ire. Seizing a stout cudgel from
one of the men, he struck out right and left at the astonished party
till bruised and cut pates became the order of the day. Then, having
thoroughly cowed the malcontents by taking more pains in the use of the
stick than in any business for the last twelve months (as he afterwards
expressed it), he sent for the guard and clapped three of the
ringleaders in the stocks.
"You see, Aubrey," he exclaimed on our return to his house, "how I am
put upon. Though I would gladly serve His Majesty in great and small
matters, yet how can I when the lack of money hangeth like a millstone
round my neck? As for you, the moment I can get you a vessel I'll do my
utmost, but, as things are, I can hold out but little hope."
I thanked him and withdrew, feeling sick at heart at the prospect of a
life of idleness when I might be serving the king at sea.
Towards the end of February news came that war had been proclaimed
against the Dutch, and the beating of drums and the firing of cannons
welcomed the announcement. What ships there were in the harbour weighed
and sailed for the Downs, to join the fleet that lay there under the
command of the Duke of York. Disconsolately I watched their departure,
regretting the fact that I was unable to take a part in the coming
struggle.
As time wore on, news of sanguinary naval engagements reached us, while
occasionally a Dutch vessel would be brought into the harbour, her
ensign hoisted beneath the cross of St. George, and her crew battened
down in the hold.
The captives were invariably taken to Porchester Castle, a building of
immense strength that lay on the shores of Portsmouth harbour, some four
miles away by water.
Spring came and went, yet to my great mortification I was not sent to
join a ship, though in the interval I engaged in a private venture--a
few gentlemen of Hampshire having fitted out a small vessel to prey upon
Dutch merchantmen. But the task was not to my liking; little renown was
to be gained, and after three weeks I was glad to return home.
One evening in June I went down to the Sally Port, as was my wont, to
look towards Spithead, in the hope of seeing part of our victorious
fleet return. The guard had been doubled since the declaration of
hostilities, and every vessel and boat that made for the harbour was
vigorously searched.
"Ah, Master Wentworth," remarked the captain of the guard, who dwelt not
far from us in St. Thomas's Street, and whose acquaintance I had made
some time back, "our town hath other enemies to fight besides the
Hollanders!"
"Oh!" I ejaculated, in a manner that implied that I wanted to be further
enlightened.
"Yes, 'tis true. The Dutchmen we can fight man to man in a
straightforward manner, but our latest foe is not to be conquered by
strength of arms--'tis the plague!"
"The plague?"
"Yea. From Southampton comes news that the plague is in that town, and
eight houses are shut up. Sir Thomas Middleton hath given orders that
the shipwrights who dwell there are not to be allowed to go home, and
those already living there are not to be readmitted to the dockyard.
Furthermore, the poor there will not suffer the rich to leave, neither
doth our governor permit ships from Southampton to land their cargoes
here."
Here was grave news. I hurried homewards and communicated the captain's
information to my uncle. He shook his head sorrowfully.
"The plague is rampant in London. In Chichester eleven persons have
died. At Newport there have been two cases, yet in this town we are
free, though in dire straits. Still, Aubrey, let not a word escape to
alarm your aunt. I must see that we lay in a goodly store of
brimstone."
Throughout the long sultry summer we were mercifully preserved from the
contagion; then, as autumn came, and still the plague did not appear
amongst us, people began to think that with the approach of the cold
weather all danger was past.
But this was not the case. Winter drew on, and with it the cold was
intense, a sharp frost lasting for over six weeks.
Towards the end of December the _Essex_, man-of-war, came into port, and
hardly had she moored alongside the jetty when the report spread about
that she was infected with the dread disease. Immediately there was a
panic amongst the workmen, and, throwing down their tools, they betook
themselves off, vowing that neither the king nor the king's enemies
would make them resume work till the _Essex_ had gone.
Finding threats and entreaties useless, the commissioner ordered the
_Essex_ to moor in the centre of the harbour. This was done, but rumour
had it that at midnight the bodies of eight men, victims of the plague,
were taken ashore and buried secretly in the Pest House fields.
Two days afterwards it was known that three more of her crew had died,
and were buried on the foreshore at Gosport; while, to disinfect the
ship, great quantities of brimstone were burnt, but to no purpose.
Then, strange to relate, the plague broke out in Gosport town, whither
some three hundred men pass over every day to work in the dockyard, so
it was not surprising to learn that at length the dreaded scourge had
appeared in our own town.
With fierce violence it spread. Many houses were shut up, their doors
marked by a cross with the words "God have mercy upon us" written
underneath. At first passers-by would cross in fear and trembling to
the other side of the street whenever this mournful sign met their eyes,
but as the number of cases increased people became hardened to the
danger.
Many put the cause of the disease, rightly enough, to the filthy habits
of the poorer people, and hearing that salt water was a preventive,
scores of the inhabitants repaired daily to the seashore, plunging into
the bitterly cold waves in the hope of staving off the malady.
Day and night large fires were lighted in the streets, while, to add to
the misery, the silent watches of the night were broken by the hoarse
shout of the watchmen, who, ringing their bells, cried out in solemn
tones: "Bring out your dead."
All the time the war with the Dutch was waged unceasingly, till it was
reported that the French, apprehensive of our supremacy at sea, joined
forces with the States of Holland and declared war against us.
Early in April, to my great joy, Sir Thomas Middleton informed me that I
was to join the _Prince Royal_, a ship of 100 guns, then lying at
Chatham with the rest of the fleet under the command of the Duke of
Albemarle and Prince Rupert.
"As the pestilence rages in London town," said he, "it is not meet that
a man should risk an inglorious death when he would serve His Majesty
better by dying for his country while fighting the Dutch. Therefore,
instead of going by coach to London, and thence to Chatham by river, we
are sending a shallop to Dover, whence you can travel through the county
of Kent to Chatham. Several officers and men are making the passage, to
bring up the crew of the _Prince Royal_ to full strength, for she has
had some hard knocks, and promotion is sure to be rapid should she again
meet with the Dutch."
I thanked the commissioner heartily and withdrew. Having bade farewell
to my friends, and gathered together my few personal belongings, I
retired for the night, as the shallop was to sail at six the next
morning.
On going aboard I found that not less than four officers and thirty men
were packed in this little craft. To my surprise and delight Greville
Drake was amongst the former, he having been promoted to lieutenant.
There were also several of the old Gannets, and to me it seemed as if
the glorious doings in the stout old craft would be worthily followed by
the crew of the _Prince Royal_.
The shallop was but fifty feet over all, unarmed save for the muskets
and swords carried by the men, and relied on her speed only for safety
in case of attack.
With a fair wind the little craft tore eastwards, passing through the
Looe before nine o'clock. Then the wind fell lighter as the sun rose
higher, and midday found us forging slowly along off Littlehampton, on
the Sussex coast.
Four hours later we had Brighthelmstone on our larboard bow, the master
of the shallop keeping close inshore for fear of being attacked by a
French or Dutch man-of-war. Finding, however, that there was more wind
offshore, he altered the helm and stood more to the south-east.
At sunset a thick mist came on, which caused our careful and anxious
master to lose his bearings. Most of us remained on deck, though the
weather was exceedingly cold. As darkness set in our position became
still more uncertain, and even the oldest seamen began to look alarmed.
Drake and I stood side by side conversing in low tones as we clung to
the weather rails, the lively motion of the little craft making it a
difficult matter to keep one's feet.
Between the gusts of wind I thought I heard a sound. Drake listened,
but could hear nothing. In a few minutes the noise was repeated, several
of the crew hearing it besides myself. It was the roll of a drum.
Again the sound was heard, this time nearer; but almost immediately it
was answered by another faint beating, another, and yet another, till
the sea seemed to echo with the rapid roll of drums.
"Stand by, lads, to 'bout ship!" shouted the master, slacking off the
tiller lines. "We are across the bows of a large fleet, if I mistake
not."
"God forfend 'tis not the French!" remarked Greville. "'Tis not to my
liking to see the inside of a French prison."
We peered through the mist and darkness of the night, but nothing could
be distinguished. Sea met mist in an undefined blur at less than twenty
yards from us.
Half an hour passed in breathless suspense, then the noise broke out
again, this time close ahead and far away on both quarters as well.
"'Tis no use to go about now," said I to my companion. "We are sailing
right across the van of a great fleet."
The master was of the same mind, for in a few minutes he put the
shallop's head more before the wind, so that she lay in the supposed
direction of the invisible squadron.
Now we could hear the rush of the water from the vessels' cutwaters, the
straining of the ropes and the creaking of the blocks, while the ships
were continually hailing one another so as to keep in touch.
In what language they were talking we could not make out, but it did not
sound like an English hail. Anxiety was stamped on all our faces, for
we had to run the risk not only of collision with a vessel ten times our
size, but of being taken by a French or Dutch man-of-war.
By this time the moon had risen, dispelling the darkness, though the fog
hung around as thick as ever; but withal there was enough light to see
the length of our craft.
Suddenly, with a swirl of beaten water, a huge vessel loomed out of the
mist, her flying jibboom seeming to project right over our stern. Our
master and one of the seamen flung themselves on the tiller and put it
hard down. The shallop ran up into the wind and lost way, and as she
did so the man-of-war thrashed by us so near that we could see the
gunports of her lofty tumble-home sides, though her spars and sails were
lost in the mist.
We were seen by those on board. Shouts followed the discovery, and
every moment we expected to find some heavy weight crashing down upon
us, or a discharge from some of her lower-deck guns; but beyond the
shouting we were not molested.
We rubbed sides with the hulking ship as she shot past, and when clear
of her quarter we read the name _Jeanne d' Arc_ emblazoned on her stern
gallery, with an elaborate embellishment of gilded eagles and
fleurs-de-lis.
"Oh for a barrel of powder and a slow match lashed to her rudder
pintle!" exclaimed Drake. "But stand by, here comes another!"
Such was the case, and before the _Jeanne d' Arc_ was lost in the mist
the bows of another vessel loomed up. By this time the shallop was
wearing and gathering way, so the master ordered both sails to be
lowered, a manoeuvre that was smartly executed, and as the second
Frenchman passed us our craft was lying motionless on the water.
This time fortune did not smile on us, for as the shallop was on the
Frenchman's lee a spurt of flame burst from the man-of-war, immediately
followed by a deafening roar, and with it our mizzen mast went by the
board with a terrific crash.
The shot was replied to by the nearest Frenchman, and for the space of a
quarter of an hour a spirited pitched battle occurred between the
various ships of the squadron, friend firing into friend in the
confusion and excitement.
Though several shots pitched close to us, we escaped without further
injury, and ere the echoes of the last report had died away we were far
behind the now invisible fleet.
The anxiety of the master on account of the fog had vanished utterly on
meeting with the Frenchmen, and with spirited promptness he set the crew
to clear away the wreckage and parbuckle the broken mast.
"My men," he cried, "that fleet is none other than the forty sail of the
Duke of Beaufort, who seeks to effect a junction with the Dutch! Yo ho!
Straight for the nearest land we'll make now. Whether we beach the
shallop on an exposed coast or bring her into port I care not, but land
we must, and bear tidings hot-foot to His Grace the Duke of Albemarle."
So saying, he turned the shallop's head due north, and as daylight
dawned the mist dispersed, and we found ourselves a few miles from the
Kentish coast, with Rye plainly visible.
An hour later and the shallop was making her way cautiously into the
sand-encumbered harbour, and, the moment we landed, the officers, myself
included, obtained horses and set out for Chatham, leaving the men to
follow afoot as best they might. Meanwhile the news that the Duke of
Beaufort's squadron was really in the Channel had spread abroad, causing
the timid inhabitants of Rye to make preparations for a hurried exodus,
while the trainbands were called out by beat of drum, and had assembled
in the marketplace.
Our journey to Chatham was performed without incident, though the heavy
rains had made the roads a perfect quagmire in many places. Tenterden we
reached in an hour, and two hours later we were clattering through the
streets of Maidstone.
At four in the afternoon five weatherworn and mud-bespattered travellers
arrived at Chatham, where a rowboat took us to Albemarle's flagship,
which lay at anchor in Gillingham Reach.
Honest George, as the seamen still loved to call the gallant duke, was
now getting on in years and weighed down by physical infirmity, yet in
time of danger his energy and fearless determination would have put to
shame many a younger man. If he had had but a free hand, I warrant the
disgrace of the Dutch in the Medway would never have occurred; but the
baneful influence of the court beauties drove His Majesty almost to
poverty, so that when retrenchment had to come it was the fleet that
suffered.
The admiral received us kindly, and on receipt of our news ordered a
signal to be flown recalling all officers and men belonging to the fleet
who were on shore, and ere sunset the English squadron was making its
way towards the Nore to chase and destroy the Hollanders' ally.
On joining the _Prince Royal_ I was surprised at her size, equipment,
and smartness. Practically a new ship, she was commanded by the veteran
Sir George Ascue, and her crew were all men who had seen active service
against the Dutch, the Spaniards, or the Barbary pirates. Compared with
the _Gannet_ the _Prince Royal_ was as a mastiff by the side of a
lapdog, while the smallest of her 100 guns was larger than the heaviest
piece of ordnance in my first ship.
With a favourable wind the fleet arrived off the Forelands and thence
beat up for the Downs, where we were in a position to meet either the
Dutch or the French squadrons; but off Dover we learned from a fishing
boat that Beaufort was seen heading back towards Brest in order to refit
some of his ships, so that for the time our chances of smelling powder
were very remote.