ON BOARD H. M. S. PEMBROKE.
A good snoring breeze was ripping us along parallel with the
Portuguese coast a fortnight later, every rag of canvas being
stretched aloft--foretop gallant royals, mizzentop gallant royals and
royal staysails. For we had found the main body of the fleet at last,
after eleven days' search for them, and we were on the road to Vigo.
Only, should we be too late when we got there? That was the question!
Let me take up my tale where I left off. Time enough to record our
hopes and fears when that is told.
Our French friend, whose boastfulness had increased with every drop of
Montrâchet he swallowed (and 'twas real good wine, vastly different,
the chaplain, who boasted himself a fancier, said afterward, from the
filthy concoctions to be obtained in that part of Portugal), had been
unable to hold his tongue, having got upon the subject of the
greatness of his beloved France, and the consequence was that every
word he let fall served but to corroborate the Earl of Marlborough's
information and my statement. Nay! by the time he allowed us to quit
his house, which was not for half an hour after he had first divulged
the neighborhood of Chateaurenault and the galleons, and during which
period he drank even more fast and furious than before, he had given
us still further information. For, indeed, it seemed that once this
poor fool's tongue was unloosed, there were no bounds to his vaunts
and glorifications, and had it not been that he was our host and,
also, that every word he said was of the greatest value to us, I do,
indeed, believe that one or other of the officers would have twisted
his neck for him, so exasperating was his bragging.
"_Pauvre Angleterre! Pauvre Angleterre!_" he called out, after we had
refused to drink any more, though he himself still kept on
unceasingly; "Poor England. Ah, mon Dieu, what shall become of her!
Beaten at Cadiz----"
"Retired from Cadiz, if you please, monsieur," one of Pierce's
officers said sternly, "because the Dutch ships had runout of
provisions, and because, also, the admiral and his Grace could not
hope to win Spain to the cause of Austria by bombarding their towns
and invading their country. Remember that, sir, if you please."
"_Oh, la la! C'est la même chose_. It matters not." Then the talkative
idiot went on: "I hope only that the fleet is safe in England by now.
Ver' safe, because otherwise----"
"Have no fear, sir," the officer said again, though at a sign from Mr.
Beauvoir, he held his peace and allowed the Frenchman to proceed.
"Ver' safe, because, otherwise, Chateaurenault will soon catch
them--poof! like a mouse in grimalkin's claws. The _débarquement_ must
be over by now--oh yes, over by now!--_l'amiral_ will be free to roam
the seas with his great fleet. _Tiens! c'est énorme!_ There is, for
instance, _La Sirène, L'Espérance, La Superbe, Le Bourbon,
L'Enflame_--all terrible vessels. Also many more. _Le Solide, Le Fort,
Le Prompte--Fichtre!_ I cannot recall their names--they are fifteen in
all. What can you do against that?"
"What did we do at La Hogue?" asked Mr. Beauvoir quietly.
"Ha! La Hogue! _Voilà--faute de bassesse--faute de_----"
"Sir," said the chaplain, interrupting, "let us discourse no more on
this subject. If we do we shall but get to quarrelling---and you have
been polite and hospitable. We would not desire that to happen. Sir,
we are obliged to you," and he held out his hand.
The strange creature took it--he took all our hands and shook them; he
even seemed about to weep a little at our departure, and muttered that
Lagos was "ver' triste." He loved to see any one, even though a
misguided enemy.
"And," said Mr. Beauvoir, as we made our way down to the quay where
the pinnace was to take them off, "to chatter to them as well as see
them. Forgive him, Lord, he is a madman! Yet, I think," turning to me,
"you should be satisfied. He corroborates you, and he has told us
something worth knowing. Fifteen ships of war in all, eh?" whereon he
fell a-musing. "A great fleet, in truth; yet ours is larger and we are
English. That counts."
It took us a very little while to fetch off to the _Pembroke_, and on
arriving on board, Mr. Beauvoir instantly sent to know if he could see
the captain, since he brought great news from the shore. The sentry
would not, however, by any means undertake to deliver the message,
since Captain Hardy was now abed, he having been on the poop all night
while the ships were coming in; whereupon Mr. Beauvoir, saying that
the business we were now on took precedence of sleep and rest, pushed
his way into the great cabin and instantly knocked at the door outside
the captain's berth. Also, he called to him to say that he had news of
the galleons and the French admiral's fleet, and that there waited by
his side an officer of the land forces charged with a message to him
from the Earl of Marlborough.
"What!" called out the captain as we heard him slip his door open,
after hearing also a bound as he leaped from his bunk to the floor.
"What!" and a minute after he stood before us, a fine, brave-seeming
gentleman, without his coat or vest on.
"What! News of the galleons! Are you the messenger, sir?" looking at
me and returning my salute. "Quick! Your news; in as few words as may
be."
And in a few words I told him all while he stood there before me, the
chaplain supplementing of my remarks in equally few words by a
description of what the drunken French consul had maundered on about
in his boastings.
And the actions of this captain showed me at once that I was before
one of those sea commanders who, by their daring and decision, had
done so much to make our power on the ocean feared, notwithstanding
any checks such as that of Cadiz, which they might now and again have
to submit to.
"Sentry!" he called out, running into his cabin to strike upon a gong
by his bedside at the same time. "Sentry!" And then, when the man
appeared, went on: "Send the yeoman of the signals to me at once. Away
with you."
"Make signal," he said to the lad, who soon came tumbling down the
companion ladder, his glass under his arm, "to Captain Wishart in the
_Eagle_, and all the captains in the squadron, to repair here for
consultation without loss of time. Up! and waste no moment."
And sure enough--for in Her Majesty's navy they are as prompt as we of
the sister service, if not prompter, since to a sailor, minutes are
sometimes of as much importance as an hour on land--ere a quarter of
an hour had passed the waters of the harbour were dotted with the
barges of the other captains making for our ship, and, five minutes
after that, all were assembled in the great cabin listening to my
tale. And all were at once agreed on what must be a-doing.
"'Tis of vast importance," said Captain Wishart, who I think was the
senior, since he presided, "that the admiral be acquainted with this.
'Tis for him to decide what shall be done when he has heard the
mission on which this officer has come, and heard also the words of
the Frenchman. Now, who has the fastest sailer? You, I think, Hardy."
"True enough," replied that captain, "as to speed, I can sail two feet
to every one of all the rest. Yet the head of the ship is somewhat
loose, which may endanger the masts; she is also leaky, and our food
is short. Nevertheless, since the intelligence has been by good luck
brought to my hands I am loth indeed to resign the honor of finding
Sir George."
"Nor shall you resign it," exclaimed the other captains. "The chance
is yours. Succeed in it and you will get your flag. Hardy, you must
take it."
Enough that I say he took it--had he not done so he would not have
been worth one of his ship's biscuits, the cases of which were, as it
happened, now running extremely low. Took it, too, in spite of the
murmurings of some of his men, who said that they had signed for the
expedition to Cadiz, and for that alone, and, therefore, it was
plainly his duty to return to England. But Captain Hardy had a short
way with such as these--a way well enough known to sailors!--while to
others, with whom he thought it worth while to explain at all, he
pointed out that there must be in the galleons, if they could only get
alongside of them, sufficient prize money for all.
Off we went, therefore, to find the admiral and the main body of the
fleet, while, as luck would have it, there blew from off the
Portuguese coast a soft, brisk wind which took us along on the course
we desired, namely, that in which we supposed and hoped that Sir
George Rooke and the Dutch fleet had gone. All the same, it was no
very pleasant cruise; the food ran lower and lower as day after day
passed and we could not see so much as a topsail anywhere, until at
last we came to two biscuits a day, officers and men. Then, to make
matters worse, the weather came on rough and boisterous, so that the
captain said for sure the fleet would separate; that though we might
find one or two of the number 'twas scarce likely we should find more,
and that even those which we might by chance come across would
possibly not have the _Royal Sovereign_, which was Rooke's ship,
amongst them.
Briefly, however, we did find them after eleven days, and when we had
begun to give up all hope, and while another terrible fear had taken
possession of our minds--the fear that even should we come together
and proceed to Vigo, we might find the galleons unloaded and their
treasure removed inland. However, as I have now to tell--and, indeed,
as you have read of late in the published accounts of our attack upon
those galleons--that was not to be.
We found, therefore--to hurry on--the two fleets very close to one
another, and no sooner had Sir George communicated the news to the
Dutch admiral, Vandergoes, and to the Duke of Ormond, than it was
determined to at once proceed on the way to Vigo to see if the
galleons were there, and if--above all things--they still had their
goods in them; for, though 'twas like enough that we should destroy
them if we could, and crush Chateaurenault as well, 'twould be but
half a victory if we could not wrench away the spoils from the enemy
and profit by it ourselves.
And now off went two frigates to scout in the neighbourhood of the Bay
of Vigo and see how much truth there was in the information my Lord
Marlborough had sent; and on the night of October 9, to which we had
come by this time, they returned; returned with the joyful
intelligence that the treasure ships were drawn up as far as possible
in a narrow strait in the harbour; that outside and guarding them,
were some twenty French and Spanish ships of war, and that across the
harbour was stretched a huge boom of masts and spars, protected on
either side by great batteries of cannon.
Also they brought another piece of good news: The galleons, they
thought, were still _unloaded_.
And still another piece of intelligence, equally welcome: The frigates
had sighted Sir Cloudesley Shovel's fleet in the neighbourhood of Cape
Finisterre, had communicated with him, and brought back word that as
we drew near to Vigo he would combine with us.
That night we kept high revels on board all our ships--those only
whose duty it was to take the watches being prevented from joining in
the delirium of joy. Casks were broached and healths were drunk,
suppers eaten joyously--we of the _Pembroke_ having now all we could
desire given us from our consorts--songs sung. And, if there was one
who more than others was the hero of the evening, it was the simple
gentleman who had brought the first intimation of the whereabouts of
those whom we now meant to "burn, plunder, and destroy," as the old
naval motto runs; the man who now pens these lines--myself.
Perhaps 'twas no very good preparation for a great fight that, on the
night before the day when we hoped to be gripping French and Spaniards
by the throat, blowing up, burning or sinking their ships, and seizing
their treasures, we should have been wassailing and carousing deeply
all through that night. Yet, remember, we were sailors and soldiers;
we were bent on an errand of destruction against the tyrant who had
crushed and frighted all Europe for now nigh sixty years; the splendid
despot who, but a few months ago, had acknowledged as King of England
one whom every Englishman had sworn deeply should never sit on
England's throne, nor inherit the crown of his ancestors--if, indeed,
the Stuarts were the ancestors of the youth whom the late James called
his son.
For this remembrance we may be forgiven--forgiven for hating Louis and
all his brood--hating him, the tyrant of Versailles, and the fat
booby, his grandson, who aspired to grasp the throne of Spain by the
help of Versailles and its master, that great, evil King of France!
Through that night, I say, we drank and caroused, called toasts to our
good queen, prayed God that we might do her credit on the morrow, and
exalt the name of great Anna? And even the watch, coming off duty in
turns, ran into the main cabin ere they sought their berths, seized
cans and cannikins brimming high, and drank her health and that of our
own dear land.
'Twas a great night, yet it came to an end at last, and the autumn
morning dawned, thick, hazy, damp--still, not so thick or hazy but
that we could see through it the mountains over and around Vigo
looming up, and, at their feet, the entrance to the bay.
Also, we saw, away to the northwest, the fleet of Sir Cloudesley
Shovel coming up toward us, escorted and led by our scouts.