John Deane of Nottingham - Historic Adventures by Land and Sea

William Henry Giles Kingston

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• Publié par: aprou
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 23
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of John Deane of Nottingham, by W.H.G. Kingston
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Title: John Deane of Nottingham
Historic Adventures by Land and Sea
Author: W.H.G. Kingston
Illustrator: A.H.C. and W. Cheshire
Release Date: October 31, 2007 [EBook #23273]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN DEANE OF NOTTINGHAM ***
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
W.H.G. Kingston
"John Deane of Nottingham"
Preface.
John Deane was a real person, and I hope that the readers of this my book about
him will be as much pleased with it as I was with the history of his adventures,
placed in my hands by a friend who long resided at Nottingham. He was born at
that town A.D. 1679. Though of gentle parentage, in his early days he followed
the occupation of a drover. He then went to sea, and became a Captain in the
Navy; after that he was a Merchant Adventurer. He next took service under Peter
the Great, and commanded a Russian ship-of-war. On leaving Russia, he
obtained the post of British Consul at Ostend, held by him for many years.
Returning home, he was made a Burgess of his native town, and took up his
abode at the neighbouring village of Wilford, where, in 1760, he died. In the quiet
churchyard of that sweet spot, his tomb and that of his beloved wife Elizabeth
are to be seen:—
“His age, fourscore years and one.”

“After life’s fitful fever, he sleeps well.”
The Author.Chapter One.
Mr Harwood and Alethea in Sherwood Forest, and Jack Deane’s First
Adventure.
Romantic Sherwood! Its pristine glories since the days when bold Robin Hood and
his merrie men held sway within its borders, and levied taxes from the passers-
by, had sadly dwindled even in the year 1696, when our history commences. The
woodman’s axe had been busy and the plough had gone over the land, and
mansions and homesteads had arisen where once flourished the monarchs of
the forest, and the huntsman’s horn had been wont to sound amid sequestered
glades; still many a wide stretch of woodland and moorland remained, over
which the fallow deer roamed at freedom, and rows of far-spreading trees
overhung various by-paths green and narrow winding in all directions, and
shaded the king’s highway which ran north to York and south to the ancient and
pleasant town of Nottingham. And there were likewise majestic avenues leading
to the abodes of nobles and squires, and thick copses and scattered groves,
above which rose the hoary giants of ancient days; and by the borders of the
streams and rivulets which find their way into the Trent numberless trees had
been allowed to stand. Wide strips also of grass-land were to be found running
even with the road or between different estates, extending sometimes in an
unbroken line for several miles together, with oaks and elms and beeches
stretching out their umbrageous branches to meet from either side, and
preserving by their shade the soft velvet of the turf even during the heats of
summer.
Thus the old forest trees, if marshalled in close order, would have formed a wood
of no inconsiderable magnitude.
The noon-day sun of the warm summer was shining down on the branches of the
wide-spreading trees shading a long woodland glade, such as has been described
running from the north towards Nottingham, the walls of whose siege-battered
castle could be seen in the far distance, where on a slight eminence the trees
opening out afforded a momentary glance of the country in front.
Just at that spot a gentleman of middle age, mounted on a strong, active horse,
accompanied by a young lady on a graceful palfrey, was riding at a leisurely
pace along the glade in the direction of the town. The gold lace with which his
long, loose riding-coat was trimmed, his embroidered waistcoat, the gold
ornament which secured the turned-up flaps of his beaver, and more than all,
the jewel-hilted sword by his side, bespoke a person of position. He wore also
leather breeches and buff-leather boots, the usual horseman’s dress of the
period.
The fair girl by his side sat her horse with that perfect ease which habit alone can
give. Her blue riding-coat was turned up with white, with broad flaps and pockets,
the petticoat below being of the same colour; her waistcoat was elegantly
embroidered, and the small three-cornered hat with a jewel in front which she
wore on the top of her light auburn hair, undisfigured by powder, completed her
unassuming yet most becoming costume. Her figure was tall and slight, and her
fair and brilliant complexion increased the beauty of her well-formed features,
expressive of wit and humour, at the same time indicating thought and feeling.
Such at sixteen was Alethea Harwood, the only child of the Worshipful Mr Rupert
Harwood, of Harwood Grange, the gentleman on the tall horse by whose side she
rode.“I have no great affection for yonder town,” observed Squire Harwood, pointing
southward with his hand. “I cannot forget my father’s account of the times when
Red-nosed Noll ruled the roost, and that arch-traitor Hutchinson held the castle,
and insulted all the Cavaliers in the town and neighbourhood by his preaching,
and his cant, and his strict rules and regulations; and now, forsooth, every man
and woman in the place thinks fit to stand up for the usurper William, and not an
expression of sympathy do I hear for the cruel fate of our lawful Sovereign King
James.”
“Poor king! it was treacherous in his ministers and officers to desert him; but
what could be expected of men brought up in the days of the Commonwealth?”
observed Alethea, with a slight tone of scorn in her sweet voice. “However,
perhaps, when they get tired of the Prince of Orange, our king will have his own
again.”
“Pray Heaven he may!” ejaculated the Jacobite squire. “And now, daughter, let
me counsel you to deport yourself with becoming dignity and reserve during our
visit to the Deane family. Mr Deane is, I own, a man of credit and honour, and
would never desire to injure a human being. I am, moreover, indebted to him for
certain sums advanced on my estate, and of dire necessity only accepted; so
that I wish he should be treated with all courtesy and respect. But he is an
obstinate supporter of this vile government, and with him and one or two other
exceptions, as I feel is my duty to my order and party, I hate them all, root and
branch; they are a money-making, mean-spirited, trading set. It surprises me
that any of the nobility and old families of the country can adhere to them. What,
however, can be expected from stocking-weavers and such like? Well, well! I was
speaking of that worthy man Deane. There is his wife, a good dame and a
careful mother, and his two daughters. You know them better than I do—
passable girls though, they seem to me; not exactly such as I might have chosen
as your companions; but tempora mutantur, as we used to say at college! I’faith,
most of my Latin has slipped out of my memory. And then there are those two
sons. The eldest, Jasper, seems a quiet, proper-behaved young man enough.
College has polished him up a little, but of the other I know but little; a broad-
shouldered lad he seemed, not ill fitted to fight his way through life, as far as
outward figure goes. And Master Jasper, what is to be his course in life? Will his
father bring him up as a gentleman?”
“His sister Polly told me that Master Jasper is to become a physician, to follow in
the footsteps of their esteemed cousin, Dr Nathaniel Deane,” answered Alethea.
“I suppose that might be considered the calling of a gentleman.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the Squire, as if he had not quite made up his mind on the
subject. “That, according to my notions, depends on the original position of a
person. It is better than that of some others, my lord’s chaplain, or the reverend
vicar’s curate, as was the lot of some of my college chums; however, I dare say,
with so renowned a guide, Master Jasper will prove an honour to the profession.
But the breeze feels cool beneath these trees; we will canter on, or you will not
have time to change your habit, and be in readiness for Mistress Deane’s
entertainment.”
At a touch of Alethea’s whip, her palfrey broke into an easy canter, and her
father’s steed moving on at a trot, they soon reached Parliament Street on the
confines of Nottingham, and passing Saint Anne’s Well, they entered through
Bridlesmith’s Gate the broad market-place. This was, then as now, the widest
open space in the town, and had many fine mansions standing round it. On their
left was that long thoroughfare called the Pavement, with the grim old castle
walls at the farther end, and the sparkling Trent on the other side; while close to
them were butchers’ and other shops, as well as those of the