THE FIRESHIPS.
ALTERING the helm, we shot past the battered wreck that the baronet
had descried through the smoke.
Her stern galleries had been well-nigh swept away, and her lofty poop
well-nigh battered out of existence. Her fore and mizzen mast had
gone by the board, while her mainmast was tottering, all in spite of
great and well-pitched cables that had been woolded from deck to tops
for their protection against our ordnance. Her planks were pitted by
our shot; in many cases two portholes had been knocked into one;
while as she rolled we could discern several shot-holes 'twixt wind
and water.
She had apparently been deserted by her crew, so, deeming it needless
to take possession of her (since she was bound to be picked up or
drift ashore unless she sank), we let her go by, as did likewise the
rest of the fleet nearest to her.
All night the combat continued, and the following day found us still
hard at it.
"The Admiral is signalling us!" exclaimed Jack, for the pinnaces of
the fleet were given orders to keep well within call of the flagship,
so as to be available for any detached duty.
Running under the stern of the _Ark Royal_, we were told to stand
away to the eastward, whither Sir Francis Drake had gone with three
ships to make certain of two great galleons that had been disabled
but were still offering resistance.
The five vessels were hotly engaged about three leagues to windward,
and, though badly cut about aloft, our pinnace made short work of the
beat up. But barely had we covered half that distance when we found
that the crippled galleon we had suffered to drop astern on the
previous evening was not, after all, deserted. Her crew were engaged
in rigging jury-masts, with the evident intention of slipping away
from capture. By the time we came up with Sir Francis the fight that
he was conducting was over, and the red cross floated proudly over
the Spanish colours.
Having reported ourselves and given the Lord High Admiral's message,
we informed Sir Francis of the happenings aboard the supposed
deserted galleon. Drake himself came to the entry-port of the
Revenge.
"Do you stand over and bid them surrender, Master Roy," said he.
"Tell them that if I myself am put to the trouble of attending to
this matter they will be sorry for it."
So away we went, hoisting a white flag topmast high, and, ranging up
within pistol shot of the disabled galleon, demanded instant
surrender.
In answer to my summons a tall, gaunt figure clad in complete armour,
standing at the head of the shattered poop-ladder, replied:
"I am Don Pedro Valdez, an hidalgo of Spain, and I deem it a slur
upon mine honour to surrender, since I have five hundred men on
board."
"So be it," I replied. "You may yield or not, as you choose, but I
give you fair warning that I bear my message direct from the mouth of
Sir Francis Drake."
I had barely mentioned that famous Admiral's name ere there was a
rush to the after end of the galleon, and ere I could grasp its
significance the banner of Castile and Leon fluttered down from the
staff.
With that we returned to the Revenge with the news that the very name
of the Vice-Admiral had been enough to make the Spaniards strike
their flag.
Smiling grimly at this flattery, Sir Francis thanked us, and
thereupon ordered three boats to take possession of the galleon and
send her into Plymouth. This time we bore away and regained the main
fleet.
Meanwhile our ships were performing unparalleled feats of valour
'gainst the might of Spain's Armada. Still holding towards Calais,
the would-be invaders of our shores continued to keep us at bay,
though, according as opportunity offered, we cut off and either
captured or sunk every Spaniard that lagged behind the rest of the
fleet.
Thus day after day went by with almost incessant cannonading, till
our ships had expended nearly all their powder. So the _Damsel of
Lyme_ was one of the pinnaces detailed to put into Portsmouth and
procure ammunition to replenish the fleet.
How we were surrounded and eagerly questioned as we moored alongside
the well-known quay! But there was scarce time for conversation,
important though the news was, for the dangerous yet precious stuff
had to be taken aboard with all haste.
Ere night we had rejoined the fleet, and were instantly beset with
boats clamouring for powder for their parent ships.
On the twenty-seventh day of the month, the Spaniards being then near
the Goodwins, we perceived a large Venetian ship in difficulties near
the western portion of those dreaded shoals. Thereupon the Admiral
ordered three pinnaces to stand in and cripple her ere she could
extricate herself from her dangerous position.
This was our opportunity, and, supported by the _Defiance_ and
_Alarm_, we stood into shallow water, putting the stranded vessel
betwixt us and the rest of the Armada.
"Do you shoot away her rudder," I ordered the gunner at our culverin,
knowing that if she floated on the rising tide she would then be
still helpless.
Our sakers were to fire at her quarter, for owing to the slight heel
nearly six feet of the bulging hull below her water-line was visible.
Sir Thomas Slingsby and his musketeers, aided by as many of our crew
as could be spared, were to maintain a steady fire at any of the
Spanish soldiers who showed themselves above the bulwarks.
Without receiving a single shot in return, all three pinnaces began
pounding the hapless ship of Venice, till 'twas certain that she
would never float more.
"This is butcher's work," quoth Slingsby disdainfully. "A fair
exchange of shot would be more to my liking."
As he spoke there was a rush and a roar like the burst of a
thunderclap, and amidst a hideous clatter our gear aloft rattled down
upon our deck. In the midst of the confusion I saw the baronet clap
his hand to his shoulder, spin round twice, then fall heavily across
the carriage of the culverin.
The Spaniards, waiting till we were well within range--for, gaining
confidence at their apparent timidity, we had run in fairly close
--let loose a whole broadside at us, ignoring almost entirely the
_Defiance_ and the _Alarm_, that, farther out, were directing their
fire at the enemy's fo'c'sle.
Two seamen lifted the baronet from the gun-carriage and placed him
under the shelter of the bulwarks. More they could not do, for 'twas
a case of plying our ordnance and clearing away our wreckage if we
were to save ourselves from drifting down upon our formidable
antagonist.
"Let her have it, men!" I shouted to the gunners, while others of our
crew, scorning the hail of shot, great and small, that flew all
around us, swarmed up aloft to free the pinnace from the tangle of
top-hamper; for the mainmast, shot away twelve feet from the deck,
had carried the foretopmast with it, the latter still remaining
attached to the lower mast by a network of twisted ropes.
In spite of our efforts I saw that the pinnace was slowly yet surely
drifting down upon the Spanish ship. Gallantly the _Defiance_ stood
in to attempt to tow us off; but she, too, sustained such a
punishment, losing her bowsprit and having her foreyard cut asunder,
that she was compelled to sheer off to avoid sharing the fate that
threatened us.
Then the _Alarm_ bravely dashed in, and succeeded in passing a hawser
to us, but ere she could gather way and take us in tow a heavy shot
cut the stout rope in twain.
There remained but one course open to us. We must anchor under fire
and trust that no hostile ship might sever our hempen cable. Smartly
the anchor was let go, and our men once more stood to their guns,
hoping that the Admiral would send some of the larger ships to beat
down the fire of our gigantic foe; otherwise we resolved to fight to
the last.
Suddenly from beyond the stern of the Venetian ship a long galley
leapt forward upon us. She was crowded with soldiers, who were
preparing to board us. Unable to alter our position, we were fairly
trapped.
The discharge of our sakers checked the oncoming vessel for a brief
instant, then, regardless of the fire of our consorts, the other two
pinnaces, the galley ran alongside us, and threescore pikemen and
musketeers of Spain, discarding their unwieldy weapons for swords and
pistols, sprang upon our decks.
Several of our men went down before the determined rush, and, seeing
the impossibility of resistance, the sorry remainder of us sought
refuge in the hold, where we maintained a sharp fire whenever a steel
casque or an iron pot appeared above the coamings.
In my rage and frenzy, for I was bleeding from a sword cut over the
head, I was for firing the powder and sending friend and foe to a
common destruction, but my men were all against this, saying that
even yet we might be rescued by the larger ships. Even at that moment
of distress, with the hated Spaniards in possession of the deck of
the _Damsel of Lyme_, I could not help recalling my refusal to
execute Captain Cleat's order to destroy the pinnace; yet here I was
for doing the very thing that in that instance I steadfastly declined
to do.
"Very well, then," said I. "Here we'll stand and fight to the last."
Finding that they were unable to dislodge us by discharging their
arquebuses and petronels into the hold, and losing many men in the
attempt, the Spaniards desisted, and by the sounds on deck I knew
they were about to slip the cable and tow the pinnace away.
Therein they were foiled, for so hot was the fire from the other
pinnaces that no man durst make his way for'ard to let go the
restraining rope.
With that they returned to the attack upon the hold, throwing down
burning tow with the idea of smoking us out. The air grew so foul
that we were soon gasping for breath, and we called to one another to
sally out and die like men rather than be smothered like rats in a
hole.
This we were about to do, when above the thunder of the ordnance rose
a hearty English cheer. Pistols cracked, and the crash of muskets
added to the din. As we dashed frantically from the smoke-laden hold
we saw the Spaniards flying headlong to their galley, while over the
side of the _Damsel of Lyme_ poured a crowd of resolute English
seamen. In the very nick of time the Admiral had sent six longboats
to drive off our attackers.
This much I saw, then, reeling from the effects of my wound and the
stifling smoke, I fell senseless upon the deck of the craft which I
had all but lost.