Part 19 (1/2)
For several hours the fiery shower continued. Now flames were seen to burst out in one part of the town, now in another; and now the vessels in the harbour caught fire; several in succession exploded. As each of the enemy's vessels blew up, the English crews burst forth with loud cheers, and redoubled their efforts. The enemy were not idle, but the English s.h.i.+ps were so placed that not many of the French shot did damage. The s.h.i.+pping in the harbour suffered most, as the chief aim of the English was to destroy them, and a large number of privateers were blown up or burned. A strong wind was blowing when the action began, and it continued increasing, till the squadron could with difficulty hold their position before the town. Still the English persevered. A large portion of the town was burnt down, and a considerable amount of s.h.i.+pping was destroyed. Such would have been the fate of the whole, had not the gale at length compelled Sir Cloudesley Shovel to throw out a signal for retiring. This was done in good order, and the squadron returned to the Downs.
Soon after this, a squadron of which the ”Weymouth” formed one of the s.h.i.+ps, was sent to cruise off Dunkirk, where it was understood that Jean Bart, with several s.h.i.+ps of war, was still lying ready for sea.
Rear-Admiral Benbow was placed in command of this squadron; but on his arrival before the place, he found the number of s.h.i.+ps he had with him too small to guard both channels; the weather, also, proving extremely foggy, Du Bart slipped out, and, steering to the north-east, fell in with the Dutch Baltic fleet of about a hundred sail, escorted by five frigates, all of which he took, and above half the merchantmen. In the midst of Du Bart's victory, he was surprised by the appearance of the Dutch outward-bound Baltic fleet, under the convoy of thirteen men-of-war, which so closely pursued him that he was obliged to abandon most of his prizes. He burned four of the frigates, and putting their crews on board the fifth, turned her adrift, which, with thirty-five of the merchant-s.h.i.+ps, were retaken. A fast galley brought this news to Admiral Benbow, who immediately steered in pursuit of the French squadron. The ”Weymouth” was one of the leading s.h.i.+ps.
Jack Deane, who was now rated as an able seaman, was constantly at the mast-head looking out for the enemy, eager as any on board to come up with them.
”Several sail ahead!” he shouted out one morning at daybreak.
There was no doubt that this was the enemy. The signal was thrown out accordingly, and the English crowded all sail in chase. The wind, however, which was in their favour, began to fall, and, greatly to their disappointment, it became almost a calm. The Frenchmen, however, retained the breeze, and were soon again out of sight.
In vain the English seamen whistled for a wind. Noon pa.s.sed by, and still they remained becalmed. Whether it was their whistling or not produced the breeze, one sprung up towards evening, and the brave Benbow steered after the French. Again they were discovered, and again lost sight of. Once more their white canvas was seen ahead, and hopes were entertained that they would be overtaken before they could reach the shelter of Dunkirk, towards which they were steering. They, however, made good use of their heels, and before a shot could reach them they had run into Dunkirk.
The fleets of England were, however, enabled to punish the French severely for their audacious project of invading our ”tight little island,” and for their still more nefarious plan, which had been hatched under the sanction of their king, for a.s.sa.s.sinating the const.i.tutional and Protestant monarch whom her people had chosen, and imposing on them in his stead a Papist and a tyrant.
Jack kept his eyes and ears open, and picked up all the information he could as to what was going forward in all directions. He had resolved when he joined to become an officer, and he knew very well that the only way of accomplis.h.i.+ng his object was to attend strictly to his duties, to be obedient to his superiors, and to gain all the information in his power.
Among the novelties which had lately been introduced into the s.h.i.+ps of the Royal Navy were bra.s.s box-compa.s.ses. These were placed in front of the steering-wheels, and were a great improvement upon the former contrivances for the same object. A large number of s.h.i.+ps having been wrecked on the Eddystone Rock, off Plymouth, an application was made to the Trinity House to erect a lighthouse on it, which was begun that very year, and it was supposed that it would be completed in the course of the next three years. The masters and owners of s.h.i.+ps agreed to pay a penny per ton outwards and inwards to a.s.sist in defraying the expense.
A register for thirty thousand seamen was established. They were to be in readiness at all times for supplying the Royal Navy, and were to receive a bounty of forty s.h.i.+llings yearly. On the 29th of January of that year, the ”Royal Sovereign,” built in the reign of Charles the First, and at that time the largest s.h.i.+p ever built in England, was by accident burned at her moorings in Gillingham Reach, in the river Medway.
”Well, Deane, and how do you like a sea life?” asked Smedley, after Jack had been some time on board.
”I will tell you when I've been longer afloat,” answered Jack. ”From what I have seen of it, I am ready to stick to it; that's what I've got to say. And how do you like it?”
”To confess the truth, I am getting rather tired of it,” answered Smedley. ”I thought it would be an easier life than I find it, but this cruising up and down the Channel and blockading the enemy's ports is trying work, and often I wish myself on sh.o.r.e again, taking a stroll or galloping through Sherwood Forest.”
”That's because you have not a right object in view,” answered Jack.
”Now I have made up my mind to take the roughs and smooths as I find them. If I get shot or wounded, it is the fate of many a better man; and if I escape, I hope to fight my way up to wear a c.o.c.ked hat and laced coat.”
”That's very well for you, Deane, because you were born a gentleman,”
said Smedley. ”I came to sea because I could not help it: all about that poaching affair, and the burning of the houses.”
”I wish we had never engaged in it, I own,” said Jack. ”It has cost me dear; and what I regret most is the injury it did my character in the place, and the annoyance it must have caused my family when it was found out.”
”What do you mean?” asked Smedley. ”I do not understand you.”
”Why, that the man who met us on that night, and showed us how to spear the salmon, told me that a warrant was out against me for poaching and firing the huts, and that if I went back to Nottingham I should be sent to prison,” answered Jack.
”He told you a lie, then. Your name has never been mentioned in connexion with the affair; and to this day, unless you have told any body, I am very sure that no one in Nottingham knows any thing about it.”
”Then what object could Pearson have had for saying so?” said Jack.
”I have an idea,” said Smedley; ”I may be right or I may be wrong; and from what you have told me of the man, he has just wanted to keep you from going back to Nottingham. Why he did so I cannot exactly say, except that he probably wanted to make use of you in some way or other.”
The light at length burst on Jack's mind, and at once he saw the danger of getting into bad company. Had he refrained from joining in that fatal expedition, he would not have met Pearson; and if he had not met Pearson, he would never have been drawn into the plot which had so nearly cost him dear. Perhaps even his life might have been sacrificed in consequence! He did not say this to Smedley, because he had determined not to say any thing to him about the plot in which he had been unintentionally mixed up.
”It shall be a lesson to me through life,” he thought. ”If a person once a.s.sociates with evil-disposed people, he knows not how soon he may be led to do as they're doing.”
Often he thought of honest Will Brinsmead and his wise sayings, and the advice he had bestowed on him. Jack was every day becoming far more thoughtful than he had been hitherto. He was living among a wild, careless, rough set of men. Most of them were brave and honest; but there were rogues and cowards among them. The greater number lived only for the present moment, and were utterly thoughtless about the future.
Now, John Deane felt that he must either be drawn in to act as they were acting, and to become like them, or he must keep himself as much as possible aloof from them. This, however difficult it might be, he determined to do.