_Wh._ It was strange that we could neither see yours nor you our lights.

_Minnes._ The greatness of the fog might occasion it.

_Wh._ The lights would appear through the fog as well as in the night.

_Minnes._ My Lord, I did all this.

_Wh._ It was contrary to my orders for you to keep so far off from me, and to be on-stern of me three leagues; but this hath been your practice since we first came out to sea together; and if you had been under the command of some others, as you were under mine, they would have expected more obedience than you have given to my orders, or have taken another course with you, which I can do likewise.

_Minnes._ My Lord, I endeavoured to get the wind of you, that I might thereby be able to keep in your company, which otherwise I could not have done, you being so much fleeter than the 'Elizabeth;' but in the evenings I constantly came up to your Excellence.

_Wh._ Why did you not so the last night?

_Minnes._ The fog rose about five o'clock, and was so thick that we could not see two ships' length before us. In that fog I lost you, and, fearing there might be danger in the night to fall upon the coast, I went off to sea, supposing you had done so likewise, as, under favour, your captain ought to have done; and for my obedience to your Excellency's commands, it hath been and shall be as full and as willing as to any person living.

_Wh._ When you found by my guns that you were so far from me to the windward, you might fear that I was fallen into that danger which you had avoided by keeping yourself under the wind more at large at sea.

_Minnes._ If I had in the least imagined your Excellence to have been in danger, we had been worse than Turks if we had not endeavoured to come in to your succour; and though it was impossible, as we lay, for our ship to come up to your Excellence, yet I should have adventured with my boats to have sought you out. But that you were in any danger was never in our thoughts; and three hours after your guns fired, sounding, I found by the lead the red sand, which made me think both your Excellence and we might be in the more danger, and I lay the further off from them, but knew not where your Excellence was, nor how to come to you.

After much more discourse upon this subject, Captain Parkes pressing it against Minnes, who answered well for himself, and showed that he was the better seaman in this action and in most others, and in regard of the cause of rejoicing which G.o.d had given them, and that they now were near the end of their voyage, Whitelocke held it not so good to continue the expostulation as to part friends with Captain Minnes and with all his fellow-seamen, and so they proceeded together lovingly and friendly in their voyage.

The wind not blowing at all, but being a high calm, they could advance no further than the tide would carry them, the which failed them when they came to a place called Shoe, about four leagues from the mouth of Thames.

Having, through the goodness of G.o.d, pa.s.sed by and avoided many banks of sands and dangerous places, the wind failing them and the tide quite spent, they were forced about seven o'clock in the evening to come to an anchor, Captain Minnes hard by the 'President,' where, to make some pastime and diversion, he caused many squibs and fireworks to be cast up into the air from the 'Elizabeth,' in which Minnes was very ingenious, and gave recreation thereby to Whitelocke and to his company.

_June 30, 1654._

[SN: Reach the Nore and Gravesend.]

Friday, the last of this month, was the fifth and last day of Whitelocke's voyage by sea from the mouth of the Elbe to the mouth of the Thames. About twelve o'clock the last night the wind began to blow very strong in the south-west, and by daybreak they had weighed anchor; and though the wind was extreme high and a great tempest, yet such was their desire of getting into the harbour, that, taking the benefit of the tide and by often tacking about, they yet advanced three leagues in their course; and when the tide failed, they were forced to cast anchor at the buoy in the Nore, the same place where Whitelocke first anch.o.r.ed when he came from England. The pilots and mariners had much ado to manage their sails in this tempestuous weather; and it was a great favour of G.o.d that they were not out at sea in these storms, but returned in safety to the place where the kindness of G.o.d had before appeared to them.

In the afternoon the wind began to fall, and they weighed anchor, putting themselves under sail and pursuing their course, till for want of day and of tide they were fain to cast anchor a little above Gravesend, and it being very late, Whitelocke thought it would be too troublesome to go on sh.o.r.e; but to keep his people together, and that they might all be the readier to take the morning tide, he lay this night also on ship-board, but sent Earle and some others that night to sh.o.r.e, to learn the news, and to provide boats against the morning for transportation of Whitelocke and his company the next day to London.

Thus, after a long, most difficult, and most dangerous journey, negotiation, and voyage from south to north in winter, and from north to south in summer, after the wonderful preservations and deliverances which the Lord had been pleased to vouchsafe to them, He was also pleased, in His free and constant goodness to His servants, to bring them all in safety and with comfort again to their native country and dearest relations, and blessed with the success of their employment, and with the wonderful appearances of G.o.d for them.

May it be the blessed portion of them all, never to forget the loving-kindness of the Lord, but by these cords of love to be drawn nearer to Him, and to run after Him all the days of their lives! To the end that those of his family may see what cause they have to trust in G.o.d and to praise his name for his goodness, Whitelocke hath thought fit, hereby in writing, and as a monument of G.o.d's mercy, to transmit the memory of these pa.s.sages to his posterity.

FOOTNOTES:

[371] [Another instance of the fear of a.s.sa.s.sination or of death by poison, which at that time haunted the Envoys of the Commonwealth abroad.]

JULY.

_July 1, 1654._

[SN: Whitelocke lands, and proceeds to his house at Chelsea.]

About three o'clock this morning good store of boats came from Gravesend to Whitelocke's ships, to transport him, his company, and goods to London. By the help of the mariners, without much delay the baggage was put on board the boats; and Whitelocke's people, after a perilous and tedious voyage, were not backward to leave their ships and to set forward to London. Earle was sent before to Greenwich, to acquaint Whitelocke's wife with his coming, lest sudden joy and apprehensions might surprise her to her prejudice.

Whitelocke having distributed his rewards to the officers and seamen of both the frigates, much to the same proportion as when he went forth, and giving them all his hearty thanks, he went into a boat of six oars, his two sons and some of the gentlemen with him, the rest in other boats.

When they were gone about a musket-shot from the ships, both the frigates and the fort fired their cannon for a parting salutation. The weather was cold, wet, and windy, as if it had been still winter, but it was cheerfully endured, being the conclusion of a bad voyage. Near Greenwich Earle met them, and informed Whitelocke that his family was at Chelsea, whither he had sent advertis.e.m.e.nt of his coming.

Many of the company being much tired, sick, and wanting sleep, by their desire and for their refreshment he staid a little time at the 'Bear' on the bridge-foot, and from thence to Whitehall, where not finding the Protector, who was gone to Hampton Court, yet many of his friends meeting him there, he was embraced by them with much show of joy, and heartily bid welcome home, blessing G.o.d for his safe return and good success in his business.

From Whitehall Whitelocke went to his own house at Chelsea, where he found his wife and family in good health, but in no small pa.s.sion, surprised with the great and sudden joy, which ofttimes brings no less disturbance to the tempers of people, especially of the more tender and affectionate s.e.x, than other surprises do; sudden fear, grief, and joy, are often equal in their operation upon const.i.tutions and affections. Nor was Whitelocke's wife alone in this surprise; another with her, at the return of her husband, could not forbear, in all that company, her extraordinary expressions of joy at the happy meeting of her own most near relation.

From the time of Whitelocke's departure from hence, to his entry into Upsal, Whitelocke spent forty-seven days; five months he staid there, and in his return from Upsal to this place cost him forty-three days; and in all these eight months' time of his absence from his dear relations and country the Lord was pleased so to own him and his, and so graciously to preserve and prosper them, that himself and a hundred persons in his company, after so long a journey, so great a change of climate and accommodations, such hardships endured, such dangers surmounted through His goodness, the business effected beyond the expectation of those who employed him, Whitelocke and all his company were through mercy returned to their country and relations, in as good condition and health as when they went forth, not one of them left behind dead or sick or impaired in their health, but some improved and bettered therein. Only Whitelocke, being ancient, will have cause to remember the decay of his strength and health by the hardships and difficulties of this service; but more cause hath he to remember the wonderful goodness of G.o.d to him and his company abroad and to his wife and family at home, in His blessing and preservation of them, and in the comfort and safety of their meeting after so long and perilous a separation, for which he is obliged to praise the name of G.o.d for ever.

After ceremonies past at his coming to his own house, Whitelocke sent Captain Beake to Hampton Court, to acquaint the Protector with his return, to present his duty, and to receive his commands when Whitelocke should wait upon his Highness to kiss his hand, and to give him an account of his negotiation. Beake returned this evening from Hampton Court to Whitelocke with this answer:--that the Protector expressed much joy at the news of the safe arrival of Whitelocke and of his company in England; that he looked upon it as a mercy, and blessed G.o.d for it; and that he much desired to see Whitelocke, and hoped, on Monday next, at Whitehall, to have his company, who should be very welcome to him.

A little while after this message returned, there came two of the Protector's gentlemen, sent by him to Chelsea in his name, to visit Whitelocke and to bid him welcome home, to inquire of his health, and to testify the contentment the Protector received by Whitelocke's happy return home, and that he hoped on Monday next to see him. Whitelocke desired the gentlemen to present his humble thanks to the Protector for this great favour to inquire after so mean a servant, who hoped to have the honour to wait upon his Highness at the time appointed by him.

_July 2, 1654._

[SN: The Protector compliments Whitelocke on his return.]

_The Lord's Day._--Whitelocke began to enjoy some more privacy and retirement than he had been lately accustomed unto, and was at the public church with his wife and family, and courteously saluted and bid welcome home by many. In the evening the Protector sent another compliment to Whitelocke by Mr. Strickland, one of his Council, who came to Whitelocke's house, and told him that he was sent by the Protector to salute him, and to inquire of his health after his long and dangerous voyage, and to a.s.sure him of the great joy his Highness received by Whitelocke's safe arrival in England, and the desire he had to see him, and personally to entertain him. Whitelocke desired his most humble thanks might be returned to his Highness for this great favour, giving him the opportunity of seeing so honourable a person as Strickland was, and for taking such care of so poor a servant as Whitelocke, and to let his Highness know that he should obey his Highness's commands in waiting on him the next day as he appointed.

_July 3, 1654._

[SN: His audience of the Protector.]

Whitelocke came to Whitehall about nine o'clock this morning, where he visited Mr. Secretary Thurloe, who brought him to the Protector, and he received Whitelocke with great demonstration of affection, and carried him into his cabinet, where they were together about an hour, and had this among other discourses:--

_Protector._ How have you enjoyed your health in your long journey, both by sea and land? and how could you endure those hardships you were put unto in that barren and cold country?

_Whitelocke._ Indeed, Sir, I have endured many hardships for an old crazy carcase as mine is, but G.o.d was pleased to show much mercy to me in my support under them, and vouchsafed me competent health and strength to endure them.

_Prot._ I have heard of your quarters and lodging in straw, and of your diet in your journey; we were not so hardly nor so often put to it in our service in the army.

_Wh._ Both my company and myself did cheerfully endure all our hardships and wants, being in the service of our G.o.d and of our country.

_Prot._ That was also our support in our hardships in the army, and it is the best support, indeed it is, and you found it so in the very great preservations you have had from dangers.

_Wh._ Your Highness hath had great experience of the goodness of G.o.d to you, and the same hand hath appeared wonderfully in the preservation of my company and myself from many imminent and great dangers both by sea and land.

_Prot._ The greatest of all other, I hear, was in your return home upon our coast.

_Wh._ That indeed, Sir, was very miraculous.

_Prot._ I am glad to see you safe and well after it.