Percy F. Westerman – The Complete Collection

Chapter 6

Pursued by the soldiers, they let fly a shower of stones, and in the confusion that followed had made good their retreat, with one exception-- a man who had received a ball in the right ankle.

Though chagrined by the loss of their prisoner, the capture of one of his rescuers was a redeeming feature of the fray, and the latest captive was brought before the officers for the purpose of being interrogated.

He was a young man, scarce more than twenty years of age, with a heavy poll of red hair. His sinewy arms were tattooed with various devices, while on his chest, exposed during the scuffle, a death's-head and cross-bones were crudely drawn. When questioned he maintained a surly silence, only asking for water in a dialect that, country-bred though I am, I could not readily understand.

"Methinks I have met others of this kind before," remarked the elder officer. "A Dorset man, I'll wager, and, that being so, he's either smuggler or pirate. Whether he be of Poole or Weymouth 'tis all the same. Far rather would I meet Dutchman or Frenchman in fair fight than be cast ashore on the devil-haunted coast of Purbeck. Now, Sedgewyke, I pray you dispatch that horse and let us hasten on, unless we wish to be benighted on the highway."

The sergeant saluted again and retired, while Middleton and his friend returned to the carriage. A shot announced that the maimed animal's sufferings were ended, and the troopers, with their two prisoners now safely in the centre, broke into a trot, the coach swaying to and fro as it rumbled over the rough road.

The sun was sinking low when we reached the summit of Portsdown, a long stretch of chalky down, whence I saw Portsmouth for the first time.

To one living in the hilliest and most picturesque part of Hampshire and Sussex this first glimpse came as a disappointment. I saw below me an island so flat as to make it appear difficult to tell where the land ended and where the water began. Save for a few trees and some scattered houses there was little to break the dreariness of it, while, the tide being out (as I afterwards learnt), long expanses of mud on either side increased this aspect of monotonous desolation. At the far end of the island I could distinguish the cluster of houses that formed the town. At the near end was a narrow creek, which we must needs cross to gain our destination, while away on the right was a square tower, which, they told me, was the castle of Portchester.

This was my first view of Portsmouth, and also of the sea, and I must confess I felt heartily disappointed with both.

We soon descended the hill, passed through the little hamlet of Cosham, and crossed the creek by a narrow bridge. A short three miles now separated us from the town, and on approaching it I saw a large mound of earth, called the Town Mount, crowned by fortifications and fronted by a line of bastions and earthworks, which in turn were encircled with a moat that communicated with the mill dam on the right.

Beyond rose the red-tiled roofs of the houses, the whole being dominated by the massive square tower of St. Thomas's Church.

At the Landport Gate we were received by a guard of soldiers, and as we entered the town my first impressions were removed by the sight of so much life and bustle.

Inside the line of fortification the guard had turned out for the purpose of doing honour to my travelling companions. The sight of the rows of pikemen with their eighteen-feet weapons riveted my attention till I was recalled to my senses by being dismissed by my benefactors, who gave me in charge of a sour-visaged soldier, with instructions to take me to the house of Master Anderson in St. Thomas's Street.

Soon I found myself at the door of a tall, gabled house, where, without waiting, my guide left me.

With a feeling of timidity I knocked, and the door was opened. I saw before me a rotund little man with a puffy face that a well-trimmed beard partially concealed. His face was pitted with smallpox, but his eyes, though swollen with the result of high living, twinkled in a kindly manner, yet showed promise of quickly firing up in anger.

I was unable to utter a word, and stood still, feeling considerably uneasy under his enquiring gaze. Neither did he speak; so, driven to desperation, I at length gathered up courage and stammered: "Sir, I am your nephew, Aubrey Wentworth."

CHAPTER IV

--How Judgment was Passed on the Dorset Smugglers

I soon accustomed myself to my new home. My Uncle George treated me with every consideration--a fact that ill-disposed persons would have attributed to the legacy left him under my father's will. Though far from being in needy circumstances--receiving as Clerk of the Survey at the dockyard a salary of £50, paid with more or less irregularity--it was evident that his brother-in-law's bounty did not come amiss.

I have already given a description of my uncle. His wife, my father's sister, was tall, sparely built, and somewhat inclined to verbosity. It did not take me long to ascertain that the pair were ill-assorted, and when on certain occasions their dispute waxed hot, my uncle was invariably driven from the house by the unrestrained reproaches of his spouse.

They had but two children, Maurice, a lad a year older than myself, and Mercy, a child of nine years. I was soon on capital terms with both, though, boylike, I treated Mercy with that sort of contempt that most boys of my age show their female relations.

I lost little time in telling my uncle the story of my adventures on the road, and, happening to mention the name of Middleton, he exclaimed:

"Why, lad, you've made a good friend. 'Tis none other than Colonel Thomas Middleton, lately appointed commissioner of this dockyard, and he who rode with him is Admiral Montague, who comes to take the fleet to Holland."

This, then, was the gallant Montague, a man who, under the Commonwealth, had earned renown when fighting with Blake the fleets of Holland and of Spain, and whose prompt action in co-operating with Monk and taking command of the fleet sent to fetch the king from Holland did much to earn the royal gratitude and favour.

On the morrow following my arrival I, in company with my cousin Maurice, was taken by my uncle to the dockyard.

Here all was activity and noise. Most of the fleet--amongst which were pointed out to me the Yarmouth , Swiftsure , London , and Ruby --lay at anchor at some distance from the wharves, while close alongside were the Naseby , her name being changed to the Royal Charles , and the Montague .

There was but one dry dock, and in it lay the Providence ; and on a slip, being nearly fit for launching, stood a large ship of seventy-six guns, her name having but recently been changed to the Royal Oak .

While we were looking on with astonishment at this busy scene, a short, thick-set man, whose portly body was ill supported by a pair of bandy legs, came towards the place where we stood. He wore a blue uniform, with three-cornered hat, and carried at his side a sword that trailed behind him as he walked, and even threatened to become entangled between his legs.

"Ha! Captain Duce of the Lizard ! Stand aside, boys, while I have speech with him."

The captain was in a rage.

"A pretty pass! Here lie I ready to weigh and make sail, but ne'er a loaf of bread aboard!"

"I cannot help you, Captain," replied my uncle. "I can only refer you to the Commissioner."

"Hang the Commissioner!" roared the irate officer. "First I am directed to apply to him; he sends me to you; you thereupon give me cold comfort by sending me again to the Commissioner. How can I take my ship to sea lacking bread and flour? Ah! Here, sirrah!" he broke off, noticing a man passing by. "Here, sirrah! You're the person I want."

The man addressed came across to where the captain and my uncle were debating. His calling was apparent, he being covered from head to foot with flour.

"Well, Hunt, how is it Captain Duce can get no supplies from you?"

The baker shook his head. "Over a thousand pounds are due to my partner and me," said he. "We were to be paid monthly, but have received nothing since September last. Verily, I am afraid to go abroad lest I am arrested by my creditors, whom I cannot pay, as the Navy Commissioners will not pay me!"

Without waiting to hear further, for complaints of arrears of payment were a common occurrence, Maurice and I stole away and wandered towards the slip where the Royal Oak was nearing completion.

A noble sight she made, this immense yellow-painted hull, with her double tier of gunports and her towering stern, richly ornamented with gilded quarter badges and richly carved galleries. Little did we know that a short seven years hence would see the ship, the pride of the king's navy, a battered and fire-swept wreck--but I anticipate.

In the midst of strange surroundings the time passed rapidly. Already the Restoration was an accomplished fact. Charles II was again at Whitehall "in the twelfth year of his reign", as the crown document has it. The gilded effigy of his sainted father was restored to its niche in the Square Tower at Portsmouth, where all persons passing were ordered to uncover. With few exceptions the townspeople welcomed the change, the whole place being given up to unrestrained merrymaking.

One morning in June I was called into our living-room, and found myself confronted by a gold-laced individual, who, drawing a paper from his pocket, read in a sonorous voice a summons for me to attend at the courthouse as a witness against d**k Swyre and Caleb Keeping, presented for committing a murderous attack upon divers of the king's subjects on the highway.

On the appointed day I attended the court, accompanied by my uncle. There were several cases dealt with before the one in which I had to give evidence, and, though it was in keeping with the times, the severity of most of the sentences struck me as being most barbarous.

One poor woman, privileged to take chips from the dockyard, had been apprehended in the act of stealing two iron bolts. Her punishment was that she "should return to the Gaol from whence she came, and there remain until Saturday next between the hours of Eleven and Twelve of the Clock in the forenoon, at which time she was to be brought to the public Whipping-post, and there receive Twenty Lashes with a Cat-of-Nine-Tails from the hands of the Common Beadle on her naked back till the same shall be bloody, and then return to the said Gaol and remain until her fees be paid!"

If this were fitting punishment for a petty theft, what, thought I, will be the corresponding penalty for these two highwaymen?

Presently d**k Swyre and Caleb Keeping were placed in the dock. The first-named was the bearded ruffian who had so nearly settled my account in the valley near Petersfield, and now, knowing full well that his neck was already in the hangman's noose, his demeanour was one of sullen ferocity, and, though he was heavily manacled, his appearance was like that of a savage beast awaiting its opportunity to spring.

The other, Keeping, did not appear to be of the same debased kind as his companion, though his matted red hair and sunburnt face and arms betokened a villain whose existence had been of an out-door kind. There was a look of haunting terror in his face that turned the bronze of his complexion into a pale-yellowish hue, while it could be seen that he had great difficulty in keeping his limbs under control.