Hildebrand Clifford had not (to borrow the nautical phrase of
his lieutenant) “hove-to” above three hours, on the occasion
described in a former chapter, before he was called to the deck
again. On repairing thither, he found his lieutenant, Halyard,
had been up for some time, and was waiting his approach at the
after-hatchway.
“A strange sail seen from the masthead, Sir,” he said, as
Hildebrand made his appearance.
“What like is she?” asked Hildebrand.
“A large vessel, Sir,” answered Halyard. “One of the Dons, no
doubt!”
“She must be a marvellous heavy sailer, then,” rejoined
Hildebrand, “to be so far leeward of the fleet, which I see is
now out of sight. Are we bearing towards her?”
“Right ahead, captain,” replied Halyard.
“I will go have a look for her,” said Hildebrand.
Accordingly, he broke away from Master Halyard, and, with a
quick but steady step, passed towards the forecastle. A crowd of
seamen, some score in number, were gathered in the bows, looking
ahead; but they fell back directly he appeared, and thus opened
to him a view of the remote horizon.
“Can ye see her from here, my lads?” he asked.
“Ay, Sir!” answered a half-dozen of voices:--“right ahead, Sir!”
Hildebrand, thus instructed, raised his hand over his eyes, and
gazed in the direction specified with all his might. After a
brief survey, he discerned a small slim object, like the trunk of
a tree, on the edge of the horizon, which he readily recognised
as the masts of a ship. On bringing it into view, he turned away
from the forecastle, and stepped back to the quarter-deck.
“Thou mayst see her from the deck, now,” he said to Master
Halyard, on coming up with that person. “Howbeit, I will even
overhaul her from the mast-head.”
Without more words, he mounted into the shrouds, and proceeded,
as on a previous occasion, to pass up aloft. He did not pause
on his way, but ascended right up, over the topmast, and the
top-gallant mast; and only stopped when he had gained the
mast-head.
He remained in his elevated position for several minutes, and, as
it seemed from the deck, gazed intently for’ard the whole time.
At last, his curiosity appeared to be satisfied; and, step by
step (yet not over-carefully), he descended to the deck again.
Master Halyard waited his return with some impatience.
“What cheer, Sir?” he inquired, as Hildebrand set his foot on the
deck.
“A large galleon, Sir, big enough to eat us,” answered
Hildebrand. “By my troth, she will have a store of doubloons
aboard!”
Master Halyard involuntarily thrust his hands into his pockets;
and, quite forgetful of his situation, began to hum a song.
“An’ she be well in the wake of the fleet,” observed Hildebrand,
after a moment’s reflection, “methinks we might even venture it.”
“Let me perish else,” answered Halyard, whom the result of his
search in his pockets, now that an attack on the galleon appeared
uncertain, rendered desperate. “Hang me up, an’ I would not
venture it in an old hen-coop.”
“We will see to ’t, then,” rejoined Hildebrand. “Let all the
spare hands turn in, and take an hour’s rest. We will be up with
her by ten o’clock!”
Reassured by a prospect so promising, Master Halyard thrust his
hands into his pockets again; and hastened, in compliance with
Hildebrand’s instructions, to order all the men that were not
required for the navigation of the ship to take an hour’s rest.
Having seen his order obeyed, he returned to the quarter-deck;
and there, with becoming gravity, but not with any dread or
apprehension of the result, arranged with Hildebrand how they
could best realize their project of attacking the supposed
galleon.
Meantime, the ship, favoured by the wind, made good way ahead,
and bid fair to fulfil her commander’s expectations. As the time
slipped by, the galleon became more distinct, and her hull,
which hitherto had been invisible, or only distinguishable
from the mast-head, was apparent from the forecastle by the
evening. It was, however, far from being viewed by our friends
with satisfaction; for the hull of the galleon could not be
visible to them, unless their ship, and its hostile bearings,
which were indicated by its course, were visible to her. On
discovering these particulars, she might alter her course; and
so, under cover of the night, escape them altogether. But though
Hildebrand thought such a result was not unlikely, he determined,
after deliberate reflection, to bear down on her still, and
pursue the course he had entered on without deviation.
The issue justified his mode of proceeding. About three hours
after nightfall, which (for it was now winter) was near the time
that he had predicted, the look-out man in the weather-bow gave
the anxiously-expected alarm.
“A large ship ahead, Sir!” he cried to Hildebrand, who, together
with Halyard, was still pacing the quarter-deck.
The announcement drew a low buzz from the crew, who, though many
of them were yet at liberty to remain below, had all assembled
on the deck of their own accord; and a general rush, sounding
like the roar of a cataract, was made to the forecastle. Loud as
the noise was, however, the voice of Hildebrand, raised to its
highest tone, was heard above it.
“Silence there! fore and aft!” he cried.
All was still in a moment--so entirely and distinctly still, that
one would have thought it impossible, on observing their profound
silence, that the crowd of men around could be living creatures,
much less that they were on the eve of a fierce and deadly
struggle.
Hildebrand paused till his order was obeyed, when he resumed.--
“Pass the word for the drummer!” he cried.
While his command was being fulfilled, he quitted the
quarter-deck, and ascended to the forecastle. Then, looking
right ahead, he distinguished the galleon, scarcely a gun-shot
in his front, and on the point of veering to windward. From the
purposed change in her course, he was satisfied that, like him,
she had suddenly become aware of the proximity of an enemy, and
was seeking to avoid him. All prospect of surprise, therefore,
was at an end, and he returned to the quarter-deck with the
determination of steering straight alongside of her.
On the quarter-deck, by the side of the capstan, he found Halyard
and the drummer.
“Beat to quarters!” he said, to the latter.
The drummer obeyed; and while his spirit-stirring summons rolled
through the ship, Hildebrand laid his hand on Halyard’s arm, and
drew him aside.
“Man the three boats,” he said. “I will run straight for the
galleon, and, as we come alongside, drop you all astern. When
I think ye are fairly on your way, I will give the enemy a
broadside, and, in the confusion, do you board her, all with one
mind, on her nearer quarter. I will thereafter lend thee what
succour I can.”
“A right noble project!” observed Halyard, feeling his pockets
with both his hands. “How many men shall I muster, Sir?”
“Forty!” answered Hildebrand, “which, as thou knowest, is half
the crew. Now,” he added, in a deeper tone, as he grasped Halyard
by the hand, “give thee farewell!”
Halyard did not reply on the instant. His pause, however--only
that the crisis rendered the briefest pause perceptible--was
hardly apparent, albeit, when he did speak, his voice was
somewhat shaken.
“Farewell, noble captain!” he said. “Life is but short; let us
live well on the road, says the gentle Shepherd of Salisbury
Plain.”
During the short interval that the commander and his lieutenant
thus conversed, the drummer had beaten his summons, which was
to lead so many to a bloody end, with unabated assiduity. Short
as the interval was--and it embraced but a few minutes--it
sufficed to assemble on the deck the whole of the crew, and to
cover every arrangement for entering into action. Each man’s
bed, tied up taught in his hammock like a sack, was placed in
the hammock-nettings, along the top of the ship’s bulwarks; the
decks were cleared of all lumber; the guns were all manned; and
the powder, with the portfires, sponges, and other implements for
charging them, handed up the hatchways. Every man was armed;
the flag of Old England was hoisted in the mizen; and nothing
remained, for the furtherance and completion of the design they
had in hand, but to come up with the enemy.
In this state of things, Hildebrand struck off the men who,
according to his previous arrangement, were to accompany Halyard,
and ordered them to the boats. There, by his directions, they
were all supplied with boarding-pikes, in addition to their
cutlasses and pistols; and, though it was not quite likely that
it would be required, an extra allowance of ammunition. The other
men were ordered to their respective quarters of the ship.
So promptly had all these arrangements been conceived, determined
on, and executed, that, from the first alarm of the galleon
being in sight, as given by the look-out man for’ard, up to the
moment at which every preparation was completed, scarcely five
brief minutes had elapsed. In the interim, the ship, with the
wind still aft, advanced steadily towards the galleon, a little
to leeward of her bows, and drew close upon her. Hildebrand,
standing at the helm, whence he could command a view ahead,
observed that she had prepared to receive him, and would probably
meet him with a broadside. Expecting no less, he ordered the
sails to be hauled up; and passed the word to the gunners, who
were all posted at their several guns, to count ten before they
answered the salute, which would cover the auxiliary attack of
Halyard and the boarders. His orders had scarcely been delivered,
when the ship, floating on the waves, came alongside of the enemy.
Scarcely a breath was exhaled on board the “Eliza” as she thus
breasted the galleon. The terrible pause, however, was but
momentary. As she came fairly alongside, looking like a little
pleasure-boat in comparison with her huge adversary, the latter,
conformably to Hildebrand’s expectations, poured into her her
whole broadside. But the shot did little damage, and that, as it
turned out, only to the ship’s hull--the crew having sheltered
themselves behind the bulwarks. Hildebrand alone had maintained
his exposed position, and now, free from injury, looked anxiously
round. The ship was enveloped in smoke; but sternwards, whither
his glance first turned, the prospect was clearer; and he
perceived that the boats had departed. He could distinguish
nothing for’ard; but, with the aid of a speaking-trumpet, he
could reach the crew with his voice, and he delivered his orders
without hesitation.
“For’ard there!” he cried. “Grapple on to the enemy’s stern; and
prepare to board!”
As the order fell from his lips, the deck below him, conformably
to his previous order, opened its fire, and poured a broadside
into the enemy. The report was yet booming over the water, when a
loud “hurrah” broke on the ear, and afforded a cheering assurance
that the boats under Halyard had arrived at their destination.
Covered by the smoke of the galleon’s fire, Halyard had advanced
towards her near quarter, according to his instructions, without
being observed; and, protected by the fire of his own ship,
gained it unscathed. The broadside of the “Eliza” had caused a
momentary confusion among the enemy, and, at this auspicious
juncture, he pulled alongside, and led the way up her bulwarks.
The crew on the lower-decks, at the several port-holes, observed
him instantly, but, taken by surprise, their opposition did
not impede him; and the disorder on the upper deck, where he
was not yet visible, prevented it from spreading further.
Before the alarm became general, he and his men had gained the
hammock-nettings; and there, with a loud hurrah, prepared to make
their way on the deck.
It was a terrible moment. Amidst the volumes of smoke which still
rolled about, the stout little band, glancing quickly round,
discerned hosts of grim adversaries, all armed to the teeth, and
crowding towards them with the most fixed determination. But
after the one rapid glance mentioned, they hardly paused to
draw a breath. Led on by Halyard, they sprang on the deck, and
pressed forward in a mass. The charge was resistless; and the
long boarding-pikes, propelled at double quick time, and with
the whole force of each individual, swept over the quarter-deck
like an avalanche. Nevertheless, the success, though so decided,
lasted only a moment. As their small force became apparent,
the Spaniards took courage; and joining together, under the
guidance of one of their officers, pressed upon them bodily,
front and rear. The English were forced together again in an
instant. Falling into two ranks, they backed to each other, and
thus, by a ready evolution, fronted the enemy either way. But
the force opposed to them was overpowering. No sooner had each
file, pressing resolutely forward, cleared the deck in their
front, than the Spaniards rushed in between them, and renewed
the struggle. The two files were now divided, and when, in
obedience to a shout from Halyard, they sought to join again,
the Spaniards pressed down behind them, and attacked them both
in front and rear. It soon became evident that they could not
hold out much longer. Their ranks began to be thinned, and there
was hardly one of them, not excepting Halyard, but had received
some hurt. They still bore up, but, compared with their first
assault, their efforts were feeble, and were rather the result
of desperation, or a wild and reckless animosity, than genuine
courage. They fought singly, too--back to back; and seemed more
desirous to die hard, and, in their fall, to destroy as many of
the enemy as they could, than to look for conquest. While all
their energies were thus required for their defence, the Spanish
commander had mustered a strong force, composed of the flower of
his crew, to rush upon them simultaneously, and so overwhelm them
at a blow. The overpowering reinforcement was already in motion,
and the fate of the heroic Englishmen, after all their efforts,
and their noble and glorious resistance, appeared to be now
decided, when a loud hurrah broke from the stern of the ship.
“Hurrah!” responded Master Halyard; and each of his comrades
caught up the cheer.
The help that was approaching might well tend to reanimate
them. As the English ship approached the galleon’s poop, the
helmsman, under Hildebrand’s direction, ran her bowsprit against
that vessel’s stern, and, pursuant to the orders they had
received, the sailors instantly fastened on to her with the
grappling-irons. Hildebrand joined them the next moment, and,
led on by him, they sprang on to her poop. The resistance they
encountered was terrible, but, though they scarcely numbered
thirty, they swept onward undaunted, driving all before them. As
they became masters of the poop, a panic fell on the Spaniards,
and they fled for’ard, past the little band of Halyard, without
a struggle. When they pushed by that weakened body, they forced
on with them, in one confused mass, those of the enemy with whom
they were contending, and so left Halyard at liberty. He had
hardly time to recover his breath, however, when he was joined by
Hildebrand.
“Now, then, my lads!” cried that person: “on them all at once!
Now! Hurrah!”
“Hurrah!” answered his men.
But the Spaniards, now utterly disheartened, did not tarry
for the charge. As the tall form of Hildebrand was seen to
spring forward, they pressed back, and made a rush for the
fore-hatchway. Hildebrand loitered as he discerned their object,
and, checking the impetuosity of his men, only gave the Spaniards
an impulse forward, without inflicting on them any hurt. Assured
by his forbearance, some of the rearmost Spaniards, after a
brief interval, turned round to him, and offered him their arms.
Hildebrand ordered them to throw them down, and, when they had
obeyed his injunctions, passed them behind him, and there placed
them under guard. He had scarcely seen them secured, when,
following their example, the remainder of the galleon’s crew
surrendered, and he was now the undisputed master of the ship.
The Spaniards having thrown down their arms, the only care of the
conqueror, in securing his victory, was to provide them a prison.
The ready mind of Hildebrand quickly decided where they could be
best placed under restraint. After a moment’s pause, he ordered
them to be passed down the main-hatchway; and the hatch, which
was of stout oak, and, consequently, could not be easily forced
up, to be well secured above them. When his directions were
fulfilled, he posted a sentry over the hatchway, and felt that
his conquest was now secure.