Archy ran on deck as fast as his legs could carry him, and the sight
that met his gaze was both splendid and terrible. They were off Cape St.
Vincent, and the weather had been somewhat thick all the morning; but, a
little while before, the sun suddenly blazed out, showing them Admiral
de Langara's fleet of nine ships of the line and two frigates, not more
than three miles off. A smart breeze was blowing, and the Spaniards, who
seemed to have known first of their own danger, were under press of sail
trying to weather the headland before they would be cut off by Admiral
Rodney's fleet of nineteen sail of the line and four frigates. The wind
was carrying the British fleet so fast towards the Spaniards that the
signal for the formation of the line of battle was already shown from
Admiral Rodney's ship, while the convoy kept together in the rear.
Admiral Rodney had no fool to play with in Admiral de Langara, who,
although prepared to fight if compelled to, justly declined the unequal
combat as long as he could.
In Archy's brief experience of naval warfare he had never seen the
manoeuvres of a great fleet, and he watched with breathless interest the
steadiness and precision with which the British fleet spread out in a
great semicircle, with the fast frigates at either end of the line, and
the convoy secure behind them. The ships were already cleared for
action, and a single tap of the drum was all that was necessary to call
the men to quarters. There was no slowness in Prince William's response
this time. He was at his station among the first, and if he had a
wholesome awe of Admiral Digby, he showed a manly indifference to the
Spaniards.
Admiral de Langara had the weather-gage at first, and was able to keep
it for over two hours; and in that time the Spaniards were slowly but
steadily creeping away from their enemies. Admiral Rodney maintained his
line of battle, and showed a perfect willingness to fight, with an
unknown and frightfully dangerous shore under his lee. But the wind
increasing every moment, the line began to straggle, in the effort to
claw off shore.
Archy Baskerville, a deeply interested observer, managed to establish
himself just aft the bridge, upon which stood Admiral Digby, with
Captain Fulke and the first lieutenant. Archy watched Admiral Digby,
alert and sailor-like, as he paced up and down, keeping his eye on
Admiral Rodney's ship, from which the signal for the line of battle flew
steadily. Langton presently passed Archy and whispered to him:
"Watch the old man. He is in a boiling rage. This is the fastest ship of
the line in the fleet, and if the signal for chasing were given he'd be
alongside one of those big three-deckers in half an hour. But here he
is, under easy sail, to keep up with the slow coaches. No wonder he is
in a stew."
And the Admiral proved it by dashing his glass down angrily after a
prolonged stare at Admiral Rodney's signal. The men seemed to understand
this well enough, and when the wind continued to rise, and they were
obliged to shorten sail as much as they dared, they gave a loud groan
when the order was shouted out. The wind seemed to blow from all points
of the compass at once, while the sky became black and lowering. The
Spanish flag-ship, the _Phoenix_, was falling behind a little, and as
the rocky promontory of the Cape loomed nearer, the chances of this
ship weathering seemed less than that of the rest of the fleet. Her
great draught forced her to keep well out from the rocky shore, and she
lay almost in the path of the _Royal George_, not more than two miles to
windward. Archy, watching Admiral Rodney's ship, saw by the dull and
clouded light a change of signals, and above him, on the bridge, it was
greeted by something like a shout of joy from Admiral Digby.
"We can carry all hard sail now, captain; there is the signal for
chasing!" cried the Admiral to his captain; and, as if by magic, the
sailors sprang into the rigging, and, with a rousing cheer, everything
that would draw was shaken out, and the _Royal George_, like a horse
under the spur, dashed forward, ahead of every ship in the fleet.
Within half an hour she was near enough to the Spanish Admiral to fire
her quarter-guns, to which the Spaniard replied promptly; but in both
cases the shot fell short.
"Never mind, my lads!" called out the Admiral, jovially, "we must
exchange compliments before we get down to work. There's no real
pleasure to be had until we are alongside!"
The _Phoenix_, having a choice of dangers, and seeing the _Royal George_
gaining upon her, then quickly changed her course and stood inshore,
where the coast was fringed with mountains of rocks, as if some giant
hand had strewed them there for the destruction of ships. The _Royal
George_ did not hesitate to follow her, though, and tacked inshore too.
From the manoeuvres of the Spaniard, it was plain that she had an
experienced pilot aboard; but on the _Royal George_ they had no better
assurance of water under the keel than could be found by continually
heaving the lead.
From the rest of the fleet a smart cannonade was now begun as the faster
ships got within range of the Spaniards, who, caught and surrounded by
superior force, yet prepared to defend themselves gallantly.
The short afternoon was now closing in, and the increasing wind and the
wraith of storm-clouds driving across the pale and wintry sky showed all
those brave men that they would be called upon to combat waves and
tempest as well as shot and shell.
The _Phoenix_, finding it impossible to weather the headland in the face
of her enemies, prepared to fight in a large bay, which, dangerous
enough in all weathers, yet gave her enough sea-room to save her if
skilfully handled.
The _Royal George_, undaunted by the hazardous circumstances in which
she was forced to attack, followed her antagonist. At the same moment
each ship thundered out her broadside; but the wind and water rose so
high that most of the shots were ineffective, although fired at short
range. The howling of the wind and the dashing of the waves on the shore
were soon drowned in the roar of the batteries on thirty-four fighting
ships, for the engagement soon became general. As night came on neither
storm nor battle abated. The clouds poured forth rain and wind as they
were swept across the wild night sky. The only light visible was the
flash of the guns and the red glare of the battle lanterns. The Spanish
were outnumbered more than two to one; but they were favored by the
storm, and stood stubbornly to their guns.
On board the _Royal George_ the slaughter began to be serious. The ship
required the most constant manoeuvring to keep her off the rocks, and
there was enough to do, and more, even for the enormous crew of a
thousand men she carried. Archy was not one to sit idly by and watch
when he could help, and when the bearers to carry the wounded below
began to be few, he ran forward, and, taking one end of a stretcher, did
yeoman's service in helping. About midnight, having a few minutes to
himself, it occurred to him that he was hungry, and probably others
were who could not leave their stations. He went below, and, getting
some bread and cheese from one of the stewards, returned to the deck and
distributed his provisions liberally among the midshipmen, not
forgetting Prince William.
"Thank'ee," said Billy, gratefully. "I wish I was in your place--nothing
to do but to watch how the Spaniards take a beating, instead of having
to fight this beastly battery. And I don't like fighting--that I don't."
Archy passed on, laughing. There was no doubt that Billy possessed the
courage of all the Brunswickers, and was exactly the same Billy under
fire as sitting around the mess-table.
Langton was near by, and Archy was troubled to see how pale and
exhausted he looked. His former terrible experience on the Spanish coast
had not been without its effects, and Archy saw that nothing but
Langton's determined will and anxiety to do his duty kept him from
dropping at his station. Just as the last piece of cheese and last slice
of bread were about to be disposed of, Archy saw the Admiral crossing
the deck towards him. He held out the bread and cheese, and the Admiral
seized it with enthusiasm.
"Thank you, Mr. Baskerville. Those rascally stewards seem to have
forgotten us up here. We'll give them a keelhauling for it as soon as
the wind lulls! Hanged if I don't think it deuced unhandsome of Admiral
de Langara to make us fight in this awkward cubby-hole of a place! Did
you ever see anything like this, sir?"
"I was on the _Bon Homme Richard_, sir, when she took the _Serapis_. We
had good enough weather, but we were locked together two hours, and at
it hammer and tongs all the while."
"Um--ah--hum--I say, lieutenant, I think number four in the starboard
battery is doing remarkably fine work. Mr. Langton in command? I shall
remember him when we are through with these persistent Spanish
gentlemen."
The fire from several of the Spanish ships slackened as the night wore
on, and soon after midnight the _Monarca_, a seventy-gun ship, blew up
with a terrific crash that drowned both tempest and battle. Her topmasts
and sails flew skyward, and the wreckage from her great masts and spars
was tossed like corks over the black waters. In the red illumination
from sea and sky the bodies of men, dead and living, were seen floating,
and the cries of the unfortunates were responded to by several of the
British ships lowering their boats in the teeth of the gale, and pulling
about in the line of fire, picking up the half-drowned sailors.
One by one the Spanish ships were disabled and forced to strike their
colors, but the flag-ship still fought on. As a gray and pallid dawn
broke over the stormy ocean and the drenched and forbidding-looking
land, it was seen from the _Royal George_ that her antagonist was in
desperate straits. Her main-mast had gone by the board, carrying the
mizzen-mast with it, and both cumbered the deck and hung over the side,
entangled in a mass of canvas and rigging. Many of her guns had burst,
and her decks were strewed with the dead and wounded. The Spanish
Admiral, however, was still on the bridge, but the two officers with him
were evidently juniors, showing that he had lost his captain and first
lieutenant. The fire of the _Phoenix_ was gradually lessening, and about
daybreak it entirely ceased, and the Spanish colors were hauled down
amid loud cheering from the _Royal George_. The Spaniards had made a
good fight, and the _Royal George_, although not so badly crippled as
her opponent, was much cut up aloft, and had several shot-holes in her
hull.
A boat was immediately lowered, and Prince William was given the
command of her, both as a compliment to himself and to the brave Admiral
de Langara, who would be escorted on board the _Royal George_ by a
king's son. It was uncertain whether the Spaniard would need boats to
bring the prisoners aboard, or whether his own boats were in condition
to do so.
Six of the Spanish ships of the line had struck, one had blown up, while
in the distance the remaining two were making off under a press of sail.
In Admiral Rodney's fleet the losses in men were not very great, but the
terrible disadvantage at which he had fought, and the bad weather, left
them still battling for their lives on an unknown and dangerous coast,
with six damaged ships to take care of, and thousands of prisoners. No
ship had suffered more than the _Royal George_, and the perilous
situation in which she was placed became more evident by daylight. The
wind was blowing directly on shore, and it became necessary to put on
all the sail the ship could stand in order to keep her from going on the
rocks; but her masts and spars were so cut up that it seemed every
moment as if they would all come down at once.
Archy watched with anxiety as an effort was made to set the main-sail.
He said to himself, out aloud:
"The mast can never stand it."
But the mast did stand it, although bending and quivering under the
strain when the full force of the wind struck the sail, and the ship,
gathering headway, moved a little farther off from the menacing shore,
on which the roar of breakers could be distinctly heard.
Prince William's boat was now approaching, and Archy could see the erect
figure of the Spanish Admiral sitting in the stern-sheets. The boat came
alongside, but poor Billy gave the order "Oars" too soon, and she
drifted off just as the line was thrown to her. Instead of making
another effort to bring her up to the lee gangway, Billy breasted along
the side until he caught the stern-ladders, and was just about to pass
the Spanish Admiral through the quarter-gallery when Admiral Digby, who
was waiting with the captain at the gangway, with marines and side-boys
to receive the Spaniard, bawled out:
"Avast, there! What are you doing, sir?" Billy needed nothing more to
convince him of his mistake, and he immediately made for the gangway. In
a little while Admiral de Langara came over the side.
As soon as the Spaniard's foot touched the quarter-deck, Admiral Digby
advanced with uncovered head. The Spaniard also uncovered, and, making a
low bow, was about to offer his sword.
"No," said Admiral Digby, with much dignity, "I cannot take the sword of
so brave a man. It will yet do great things for your country."
De Langara's eyes filled with tears, as, in broken English, he said
something of which few comprehended the words, but all understood the
meaning.
Poor Billy then came over the side, and Admiral Digby, to make sure that
the Spanish Admiral knew that no slight was intended by bringing him to
the forward gangway, said sternly to the unlucky scion of royalty:
"How, sir! have you not yet learned to bring a boat alongside properly?
I shall not forget this, and, when time serves, I will give you a lesson
that you will remember."
Admiral de Langara looked in amazement from the angry Admiral to the
trembling midshipman.
"No wonder," he remarked to Admiral Digby, "that the English rule the
seas, when the son of the sovereign is made to submit to discipline as
any other midshipman in the ship."
Admiral Digby then escorted the Spanish Admiral to his cabin. There was
work for everybody to do, and Archy soon found himself pressed into
service again. Powder was precious, and it was necessary to save what
had already been hoisted on deck, and to get the fuses and cartridges
and everything else in place.
The wind increasing in violence prevented the transfer of the prisoners,
and it was with great difficulty that a prize-crew was thrown aboard of
the _Phoenix_. And then, in spite of the vast concussion of hundreds of
guns, which usually deadens the wind, it became a hurricane. For two
days and nights the _Royal George_ battled for her life, and every time
the _Phoenix_ disappeared from view it was thought she had gone to the
bottom. If they made sail, everything was blown from the bolt-ropes,
while if they stripped the ship of her canvas she would seem to be
rushing headlong to destruction. But at last they succeeded in bending
sails that stood the terrific strain. The officers and crew nobly
maintained the name of British seamen. Cool, courageous, skilful, never
losing heart, they struggled on, in mortal danger every moment, and from
the Admiral down to poor Billy the Prince every officer did his whole
duty, as did every man. It was two days before they were in deep water
again; but on the third day the morning broke in splendor, a golden sun
shining down upon a sapphire sea. And the same afternoon the British
fleet, with six great Spanish ships on which the Union Jack was hoisted
over the Spanish colors, sailed past Europa Point, and the Rock of the
Lion, from all its hundred guns, thundered out a welcome worthy of such
mighty guests.