Part 8 (2/2)
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 s.h.i.+p!” shouted the master, slacking off the tiller lines. ”We are across the bows of a large fleet, if I mistake not.”
”G.o.d 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 pa.s.sed 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' cut.w.a.ters, the straining of the ropes and the creaking of the blocks, while the s.h.i.+ps 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 cras.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+p 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.p.a.ce of a quarter of an hour a spirited pitched battle occurred between the various s.h.i.+ps 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-enc.u.mbered 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 a.s.sembled 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 flags.h.i.+p, 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 sh.o.r.e, 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 s.h.i.+p, 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 s.h.i.+p.
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 fis.h.i.+ng boat that Beaufort was seen heading back towards Brest in order to refit some of his s.h.i.+ps, so that for the time our chances of smelling powder were very remote.
CHAPTER XV.
--Of the Famous Sea Fight of Four Days.
During the whole of the month of May the English fleet remained cruising betwixt Gravelines and Dover, till Albemarle began to revile the Dutch for their cowardice in fearing to leave their harbours, while of de Beaufort we had neither signs nor tidings.
At length, on the last day of May, news was brought that the French fleet was actually in the Channel once more, and that de Ruyter and Van Tromp, with eighty sail, were already on the way to effect a union with de Beaufort.
A hurried council of war was held on board the flags.h.i.+p, and here Albemarle made the first great mistake of his life; for it is reported he held the Dutch so cheaply that he ordered Prince Rupert to take twenty vessels of our fleet and make to the westward to find and engage the French, while he relied on his remaining fifty-four s.h.i.+ps to meet the formidable array of Dutchmen.
This counsel our captain, Sir George Ascue, ventured to oppose, but honest George in his wrath bade him hold his tongue, and Prince Rupert hastened on board his s.h.i.+p to detach the squadron of twenty s.h.i.+ps in order to seek de Beaufort. Before nightfall we saw them hull down, and we set sail so as to arrive off the coast of Holland and destroy de Ruyter's craven fleet.
Craven we dubbed them; but when, on the morning of the 1st of June, we found the Dutch fleet lying at anchor, to our surprise they immediately slipped their cables and stood out to meet us, with a courage and determination that made Albemarle bitterly regret his lack of caution.
On board the Prince Royal all was bustle and excitement, yet our preparations were made without untoward confusion. Sir George made a stirring speech, the drums beat to quarters, and then came that irksome interval before opening fire that tells so acutely on the nerves of even the most hardened veteran.
The action began in a strong wind that, blowing athwart the tide, raised such a steep sea that most of our s.h.i.+ps were unable to open their lee'ard lower-deck ports, a misfortune that more than outbalanced our advantage in having the weather gauge.
When within a mile of the enemy a signal was made to shorten sail, but the hot-headed vice-admiral, Sir William Berkeley, kept on till, half a mile ahead of the rest of us, he encountered the fire of over twenty of the Dutchmen.
We watched the gallant though unequal conflict. Unflinchingly his s.h.i.+p received the tremendous broadsides of the enemy, and, undaunted, Sir William returned the fire, till at length the combatants were lost in a heavy pall of smoke. Gradually the noise of the struggle ceased and the smoke cleared away. Then, to our dismay, we saw the gallant vessel a helpless, dismasted wreck in the possession of the Dutch.
Now came our turn, and before we were within a comfortable distance our spars and rigging began to fall on the deck in a manner that none of us had previously experienced. The solution of the mystery was afforded shortly afterwards by three seamen being cut in two apparently by one shot, which finished up its career of death by splintering the base of the mainmast.
The bos'n, who was standing close to me, hastened to where the missile lay, and lifting it up he exclaimed: ”That's where they have us! 'Tis a chain shot--a new invention of that stubborn fiend de Wit!”
We were soon hotly engaged. Dead and wounded enc.u.mbered our decks, while the new and stately appearance of the Prince Royal altered till our s.h.i.+p resembled a butcher's shambles. Nevertheless, against tremendous odds, we kept up a hot fire, and had the satisfaction of seeing more than one of the towering sides of the Dutchmen crumbled into a shapeless ma.s.s of charred and splintered timbers.
With the approach of night both fleets withdrew; but for us there was little rest, as all hands were employed reeving fresh rigging, splicing spars, and plugging shot holes, while our dead were committed to the deep, and the wounded trans.h.i.+pped to one of the smaller vessels.
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