The Boy who sailed with Blake Part 1

The Boy who sailed with Blake.

by W.H.G. Kingston.

Another vintage Kingston book, this time with a background of the 1650s, when Cromwell and the Roundheads were in power.

With acknowledgement to Chamber's Biographical Dictionary we read:

Blake, Robert (1599-1657) English naval commander, the son of a merchant. Educated at Wadham College, Oxford, he continued his father's business and led the life of a quiet country gentleman until he was 40.

Returned for Bridgwater in 1640 to the short Parliament, he cast in his lot with the Parliamentarians. In the Civil War he took part in the defence of Bristol (1643) and Lyme Regis (1644), and his defence of Taunton (1644-45) against overwhelming odds proved a turning point in the war. Appointed Admiral in 1649, he destroyed Prince Rupert's fleet and captured the Scilly Isles and Jersey. In the first Dutch War (1652-54) he defeated Tromp at the battle of Portland and shattered Dutch supremacy at sea. He destroyed the Barbary Coast pirate fleet off Tunis (1655) and in 1657 destroyed a Spanish treasure fleet at Santa Cruz off Teneriffe. He died as his ship entered Plymouth, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, but his body was removed at the Restoration. He is considered one of the greatest of English admirals, second only to Nelson.

That was the background to this story. The only thing that upset your transcriber is that he is by nature on the side of the Cavaliers and the Monarchy, rather than that of the Roundheads.

THE BOY WHO SAILED WITH BLAKE, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.

The following story is not one of reckless adventure, nor one in which fighting and bloodshed are introduced to fan a spurious spirit of heroism. It is the reproduction of a page of history, and a most important one, when good men held not their lives dear to uphold and defend that which was dearer than life--civil and religious liberty.

The example of Blake is held up to the boys of to-day, not because he fought and conquered, but because he was a conscientious, G.o.d-fearing man, and his conscience told him that the best interests of his country demanded resistance to the Stuart rule. Such a man as Blake was a hero everywhere, and needed not a quarter-deck to display his heroism.

CHAPTER ONE.

MY FRIENDS AND I.

"Hark! the bells of Saint Michael's are sending forth a jovial peal!"

exclaimed Lancelot Kerridge, as he, d.i.c.k Harvey, and I were one day on board his boat fishing for mackerel, about two miles off the sea-port town of Lyme. "What they are saying I should mightily like to know, for depend on't it's something of importance. Haul in the lines, Ben!" he continued, addressing me; "and, d.i.c.k, put an oar out to windward. I'll take the helm. We shall fetch the Cob by keeping our luff."

The wind was off sh.o.r.e, but as we were to the westward of the Cob, and the tide was making in the same direction, we could easily fetch it.

The water was smooth, the sea blue and bright as the eyes of sweet Cicely Kerridge, my friend Lancelot's young sister, while scarcely a cloud dimmed the clear sky overhead.

Lyme, then containing but one thousand inhabitants, where my two companions and I lived, is situated in Dorsetshire, near its western border, on the northern sh.o.r.e of a wide bay, formed by the Bill of Portland on the east and the Start Point on the west. Along the coast are several other towns, of which Dartmouth, owing to its excellent harbour, is the most considerable, besides numerous villages, including Charmouth and Uplyme. A line of cliffs of no great height extends away on either side of Lyme, which stands at the bottom of a valley; while beyond it rise the green slopes of Colway and Uplyme, hills overlooking the town.

On the eastern side was the house of my father, Captain Roger Bracewell.

He had commanded several of the trading ships of Master Humphrey Blake, of Bridgwater, at one time a merchant of renown, and the father of Captain Robert Blake, who had already made his name famous for his gallant defence of Prior's Hill when Bristol was besieged by Prince Rupert, until it was yielded in a dastardly fashion by Governor Fiennes.

My father retiring from the sea with a competency, having married late in life, settled in Lyme, his native place. His house, which overlooked the bay, was of the better sort, with curious gables, and a balcony supported on strong wooden pillars in front, where he was wont to sit, smoking his pipe, and enjoying a view of the ocean he still loved full well, with the ships--their white canvas spread to the breeze--sailing by in the distance, or approaching to take shelter in our roadstead.

There were a few other residences of the same character; but most of the houses were built of soft stone, with thatched roofs, forming four irregular narrow streets, with several narrower lanes of no very dignified character. Still, we were fond of our little town, and had reasons to be proud of it from the events I am about to describe.

My two friends and I spent much of our time on the water. Lancelot, my senior by two years, was the son of the worshipful Master Kerridge, Mayor of Lyme, and d.i.c.k's father was Mr Harvey, a man of considerable wealth and influence in the neighbourhood, brother-in-law of Mr Ceely, who had been made Governor of the town by the Parliament.

Our fathers were Puritans and staunch Parliamentarians. They had become so in consequence of the faithlessness of the King, and the attempt of Laud to introduce Popish rites and to enslave the consciences of free-born Englishmen. Who, indeed, could have witnessed the clipping of ears, the slitting of noses, the branding of temples, and burning of tongues, to which the Archbishop resorted to crush Nonconformity--who could have seen their friends imprisoned, placed in the pillory, and even scourged through the streets, without feeling their hearts burn with indignation and their whole souls rebel against tyranny so outrageous?

"It is a wonder that any honest man could be found to support that miscreant Laud," I remember hearing my father say. "He and his faithless master are mainly answerable for the civil strife now devastating, from north to south and east to west, our fair English land."

But I must not trouble my readers with politics; my object is to narrate the scenes I witnessed, or the events in which I took a part. I was too young, indeed, at that time to think much about the matter, but yet I was as enthusiastic a Roundhead as any of my fellow-townsmen. As we approached the little harbour we pa.s.sed through a large fleet of traders, brought up in the roadstead for shelter, most of which, belonging to London merchants, dared not therefore put into any port held by the Cavaliers. Three or four had dropped their anchors while we were out fishing. We hailed one of them, which had come in from the westward, to ask the news.

"Bad news!" was the answer. "The Malignants have taken Exeter, and many other places in the west country, and are now marching in great force on London."

"I hope they won't come to Lyme on their way, for if they do, we shall have but small chance of withstanding them," I observed to my companions as we sailed on.

"I have but little fear on that score," replied Lancelot. "We'll fight while a man remains on his legs, or a gun can be fired from our batteries."

Lancelot's enthusiasm inspired me. The breeze freshened. We soon rounded the Cob, when we pulled up among the small craft which crowded the harbour, to a spot where Lancelot usually kept his boat. As soon as we had moored her we sprang on sh.o.r.e, and hurried through the lower part of the town, which was almost deserted.

We found the greater portion of the inhabitants collected at the northern side; and I had scarcely time to ask a question of my father, whom I joined, before we saw a body of troops approaching, led by an officer on horseback. He was a strong-built man, of moderate height, with a fair and florid complexion, and, contrary to the fashion general among Puritans, his hair, in rich profusion, was seen escaping beneath his broad-brimmed hat, while he wore large whiskers, but no beard--his countenance unmistakably exhibiting firmness and determination. He returned in a cordial manner the salutes of the princ.i.p.al townsmen, who had gone out to meet him.

"Who is he?" I asked of my father.

"That, my son, is Colonel Blake. He has come with five hundred men of Popham's regiment, to protect us from a large army of Malignants--twenty thousand men, it is said--under Prince Maurice, cousin to the King. He threatens to annihilate our little town; but though we shall have a hard struggle to beat them back, G.o.d will protect the right."

The bells we had heard had been set ringing on the announcement of the approach of Colonel Blake; and now, as he and his brave followers entered the town, they pealed forth with redoubled energy.

While the men were sent to their quarters, he, accompanied by the Governor and Mayor, and several officers, rode round the outskirts of the town, to point out the spots where he judged it necessary that batteries and entrenchments should be thrown up.

He was accompanied by a young nephew, also named Robert Blake, son of his brother Samuel, who was killed some time before at Bridgwater, while commanding a company in Colonel Popham's regiment. I afterwards became well acquainted with young Robert Blake, as we were much drawn together by the fondness for a sea life which we both possessed. His was rather a pa.s.sion than mere fondness--indeed, like his n.o.ble uncle, he was enthusiastic in all his aspirations, and a more gallant, n.o.ble-minded lad I never met.

That evening the newly arrived troops, as well as every man in the place capable of labouring, set to work with pickaxes, spades, and barrows to throw up embankments, to cut trenches, to erect batteries, to barricade the roads, and to loophole all the outer walls of the houses and gardens. Officers were in the meantime despatched by the Governor and the Mayor to obtain volunteers from Charmouth, Uplyme, and other villages; while foraging parties were sent out in all directions to collect provisions, cattle, and fodder. Although, in addition to Colonel Blake's five hundred regulars, scarcely more than three hundred fighting men could be mustered in the town, there were no signs of wavering; but high and low endeavoured to make amends for the paucity of their numbers by their dauntless courage, their energy, and unceasing toil; and even women and children were to be seen in all directions, filling baskets with sods, and carrying materials to the labourers at the earthworks.

Lancelot and I kept together, and did our best to be of use, though I could not do much, being a little fellow; but I know that I worked away as hard as my strength would allow me. Colonel Blake was everywhere, superintending the operations and encouraging the men. Stopping near where my friends and I were at work, he addressed the labourers.

"The haughty Cavaliers fancy that they can ride roughshod into your little town, my lads," he said; "but I want you to show them that you can fight for your hearths and homes as well as did my brave fellows at Prior's Hill; and I do not fear that a traitor will be found within our trenches to deliver up the place, while we have a cask of powder in our magazines, or a musket to fire it. And even should our ammunition run short, the Lord of Hosts being with us, we'll drive them back with pike and sword."

"Rightly spoken, Colonel Blake," said my father, who had just then reached the spot where the Colonel was standing. "I am an old man, and had looked forward to ending my days in peace; but willingly will I promise you that the enemy shall march over my dead body before they get within our entrenchments. I served on board the ships of your honoured father, when we had many a tough fight with corsairs, Spaniards, Portingales, and Dutchmen; and I feel sure that I shall not draw my sword in vain when his son commands. Maybe you may remember Richard Bracewell?"

"Well indeed I do," answered Colonel Blake, putting out his hand and warmly shaking that of my father. "And many a long yarn about your adventures have I listened to with eager interest, while I longed to sail over the wide ocean and to visit the strange countries you described. Who is that youngster standing by you?" he then asked in a kindly tone, looking down on me.

"My only boy, the son of my old age," answered my father. "Though young now, he will, I trust, ere long grow big enough to fight for the civil and religious liberties of our country, or to defend her from foreign foes."

"Judging by his looks, and knowing whose son he is, I would gladly have him with me when he is old enough, should heaven spare our lives; but at present he is too young to be exposed to the dangers of war, and I would advise you to keep him under lock and key when the fight is going on, or he will be running where bullets and round shot are falling, and perhaps his young life will be taken before he has had time to strike a blow for the liberties of our country."

"I hope that I can do something now, sir," I said, not liking the thoughts of being shut up. "I can fire a pistol if I cannot point an arquebuse; and since morning I have carried a hundred baskets or more of earth to the embankment."

"You speak bravely, my boy, and bravely you will act when the time comes," said the Colonel, and forthwith he addressed himself to others who came to receive his orders. Such was my first introduction to one with whom I was destined to serve for many a year.

I well remember the spot where we were standing. On one side lay the blue sea extending to the horizon, below us was the town with its white-walled, straw-thatched buildings, the church with its spire to the left, and before us were the green slopes of the hills sprinkled here and there with clumps of trees, while on the more level spots were to be seen corn-fields and orchards smiling in the rays of the setting sun.

Beyond the town was Colway House, a substantial mansion, once the residence of the Cobham family; and about a mile from it, on the opposite side of the valley, was a collection of buildings known as Hayes Farm, both of which had been fortified, and occupied as outposts.

We had, we knew, not many days to prepare for the defence; and I am proud to say that, sc.r.a.p of a boy as I was, I worked as hard as many of my elders. Late in the evening, when it was already dusk, my father found me, with Lancelot and d.i.c.k, still at our self-imposed task.

"Come, boys," he said, "it is time for you to go home and get some sleep. You must leave it to stronger men to labour during the night."

"Just let us carry a few more basketfuls, sir," answered Lancelot. "See that gap; we have undertaken to fill it up, and, for what we can tell, the enemy may be upon us before the morning."

"Well, well, lads, I like your spirit. I will not baulk you. Give me a spade; I will try what I can do to expedite the work." And my revered father, as soon as the spade had been handed to him, began digging away with right goodwill, filling the baskets, which were carried up to the embankment. He soon became so interested in the work that he was as unwilling to knock off as we were.