CAPTURE OF THE PLATE FLEET AND SACK OF LA GUAYRA--DISAPPEARANCE OF ROGER
AND HARRY.
To make certain of not arriving at their destination too soon, and
before the townspeople and the garrison had retired for the night, the
English ships carried but a small amount of canvas, and consequently
made only some two to three knots per hour.
It was a little after midnight when Roger, who was, as usual, on the
lookout, and who was credited with the sharpest pair of eyes in the
ship, saw for the second time the lights of La Guayra opening up. As
they came into fuller view of the town itself, and of the roadstead,
they were somewhat astonished to find that both were enveloped in almost
perfect darkness--there was scarcely a light to be seen, either ashore
or afloat. There were one or two scattered here and there about the
town, but there were none at all in the forts, and not a single glimmer
was to be made out anywhere in the roadstead.
Surely it was not possible that the vessels of the plate fleet, and its
two protecting warships, could have left the port and disappeared during
the short time that had elapsed since the boat expedition had made its
reconnaissance! At that time, too, there had been numerous other craft
lying there at anchor; yet now it seemed as though the bay were
deserted. Some fresh arrangement--some new plan--was obviously
necessary.
The English ships showed no lights whatever, and the strictest silence
was observed. The captains had received their orders beforehand, and
would have known exactly what course to pursue had there been any lights
showing. But now it became necessary to take fresh counsel among
themselves, and decide how to act.
The flag-ship was, as usual, in the van, and Mr Cavendish ordered all
the boats to be lowered and manned. These were then to spread out in
line, so as to make sure of intercepting the other two vessels as they
came up, and, having found them, to give orders for them to heave-to,
and for their respective captains to repair on board the _Good
Adventure_. The boats themselves were to return to the flag-ship as
soon as these orders had been carried out.
Luckily there was no difficulty in picking up the other ships, even in
the pitchy blackness that prevailed that night, and with but a few
minutes' delay the officers of the fleet were once more assembled in the
cabin of the flag-ship. The situation was discussed as briefly as
possible, for there was no time to lose, and it was presently decided
that, instead of the remainder of the fleet following the flag-ship's
lead, as originally agreed, the officer of each ship who had been with
the boat expedition should do his best to pilot the vessel under his
care to the berth occupied by the warships. Arrived there, should the
Spanish ships be present, as all on board fervently hoped would prove to
be the case, they were to attack at once. Whichever of the two
Spaniards might happen to be first attacked, the other would almost
certainly come to the help of her consort, and the flash of the guns and
noise of the tumult would serve to guide the remainder of the English
squadron to the scene of the conflict.
If, on the other hand, it should be found that the warships and plate
ships had made their escape, each vessel was to return to the entrance
of the roadstead and await the arrival of her consorts as they too
retreated from the bay, when, all having rejoined, they were to return
to their former hiding-place, where fresh plans would be discussed and
made.
This matter being arranged, the captains returned each to his own ship,
and very shortly afterward the fleet were again under weigh and standing
inshore in the same order as at first.
Slowly and noiselessly as ghosts they glided on, each heading for the
place where the pilots thought, and all hoped against hope, to find the
warships lying, with behind them the plate fleet, which was the actual
objective of the expedition.
The English ships had separated, and on board the flag-ship nothing
could now be seen or heard of the remainder of the squadron, each pilot
having taken the direction in which he personally considered the enemy
to be lying. Nothing could be made out, either ashore or afloat, to
guide them in the slightest degree in their search. They were, indeed,
groping blindly forward in the hope of accidentally coming upon their
quarry. The few lights of the town that were visible were away at the
other side of it, at a long distance from them, and were so far from
being of any service that they were positively misleading, to such an
extent that at any moment it might happen that they would find their
ship ashore.
Roger and Harry were standing in their usual position on the fore-deck,
gazing eagerly ahead, each anxious to be the first to sight the enemy,
when Harry caught his friend's sleeve, and, pointing into the darkness
at a faint blur upon their port bow, said:
"There's something there, Roger. D'ye see it, lad? It's a ship of some
sort. I can just make out her masts. We shall pass her at very close
quarters. Now, I wonder if perchance she is one of the warships that we
are searching for?"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a perfect volcano of flame
flashed from the side of the vessel which Harry had just sighted,
immediately followed by a thunderous roar, and the shot from the
well-aimed broadside came crashing aboard, doing a considerable amount
of execution. Men fell in every part of the ship. Cries, shrieks,
groans, and curses arose from the decks, which for a moment were a
perfect pandemonium of confusion.
The captain, rushing along the deck, shouted: "Steady, lads, and stand
to your guns! The Spaniards expected and are ready for us; but do not
forget that you are Englishmen. Pull yourselves together, men, and give
them back better than we received."
The confusion was but momentary. The crews were by this time too well
disciplined to become panic-stricken, and, awaiting the word of command,
they presently poured in their already-prepared broadside with great
effect, for the mainmast of the war-ship was seen to quiver, totter, and
finally fall with a rending crash over the side remote from the _Good
Adventure_, throwing the crew of the Spaniard into momentary disorder.
As the flag-ship came up to her antagonist, she took in her sails and
ranged up alongside, inshore of her. There were no batteries opposite
where the vessels were lying, so that no danger was to be apprehended on
that score.
Like magic, the lights flared up from all parts of the town, and aboard
all the vessels in the bay, as also in the fort at the opposite
extremity of the roadstead. The war-ship herself became a blaze of
illumination, as did also her consort, which could now be seen lying but
a half-cable's-length distant, and which also opened a tremendous fire
upon the flag-ship. The other two ships of the English squadron,
meanwhile, had shifted their helms and were fast approaching, guided by
the flashing of guns and the uproar of the action.
Even the ships of the plate fleet, lying near at hand, and which proved
to be heavily armed, now began to open fire, as well as the distant
fort; and it was soon very evident that the English fleet had entered
into an engagement in which the odds were vastly against them. They had
anticipated surprising the enemy; but the surprise was all the other
way. Neither had they reckoned on the plate vessels being nearly so
heavily armed.
The booming of cannon now resounded from all sides, and the darkness was
made light by the flashes from the guns, whilst the air became thick and
heavy with powder smoke. The _Elizabeth_ and the _Tiger_ had come upon
the scene, and were attacking the second war-ship, which was resisting
gallantly, supported as she was by the guns from the ships composing the
plate fleet.
Indeed the English were in a very warm corner.
The flag-ship was engaging the first war-ship--the name of which they
discovered to be the _Sotomayor_--yard-arm to yard-arm, and both vessels
fairly reeled under the concussion as the heavy shot crashed in at one
side and out at the other, while the _Good Adventure_ was already on
fire below from the flashes of the guns of her opponent. English
sailormen, however, were ready then, as now, to meet all emergencies,
and the fire was speedily quenched, only to start again, however, and be
again put out.
Three times did Cavendish pour his boarders on to the decks of the
_Sotomayor_, and three times they were driven back by the desperate
valour and greatly superior numbers of the Spaniards.
The Spaniard had lost every mast but her foremast, and the English ship
was in almost as bad a plight. Both ships were badly riddled by shot,
and their crews were decimated. It seemed as though, unless some
decisive move were made to end the conflict, that the combatants would
be exterminated to a man.
The second war-ship, the _Villa de Mejico_, was in even worse plight
than her consort, having two vessels to engage her instead of only one.
She fought with the valour of desperation, however, and was packed with
soldiers who had been put aboard her from the fort in anticipation of
the attack.
It had somehow got to be known, although it was never discovered how,
that the English were near at hand, and were suspected of contemplating
an attack on the fleet; and in view of this suspicion elaborate
preparations had been made for their reception.
The crews of the _Tiger_ and the _Elizabeth_ had several times
endeavoured to board, but had been swept back to their own ships on
every occasion by the combined sailors and soldiers on the Spaniard.
Harry and Roger were, as usual, in the very thick of it, fighting side
by side like the young heroes that they were, and, truth to tell, doing
a considerable amount of execution.
They were pausing for a moment to take breath, when both happened to
glance forward, and at once saw that the two ships, the _Good Adventure_
and the _Sotomayor_ with her, were drifting right down upon the second
Spaniard and her antagonists. The Spaniards on the _Sotomayor_, finding
themselves almost overpowered, had cut their cable purposely, to drift
down with the tide on board their consort, in the hope of being able to
make a better stand together than separately. But they were mistaken in
their expectation. The other vessel, having had two to contend with,
was in no condition to render assistance of any kind; rather, indeed,
did she stand in need of help from the _Sotomayor_.
A brief minute later the flag-ship, still grappling with her quarry, was
aboard the other three craft, and the confusion became worse confounded.
The Spaniards, determined to make one last desperate effort to beat off
the English, rallied, and, combining their forces, forestalled their
antagonists by attempting to board.
The two Spanish ships acted in concert, and hurled their soldiers and
sailors aboard the three English craft; but it was a hopeless attempt
from the first. The English closed up, and, forming a solid phalanx,
cut them down right and left, driving them back, and quickly compelling
the shattered remnant of the boarders to seek the refuge of their own
decks. Nor did they stop at that, but followed them pell-mell and close
on their heels in their retreat to the decks of the Spanish ships. The
Spaniards fought with the courage of desperation, but their utmost
efforts were unavailing; the blood of the Englishmen was now thoroughly
up, and there was no stopping them. They rushed with irresistible
courage and determination among the shattered and now completely
disheartened remnants of the enemy, and cut them down wholesale. Mere
mortal flesh and blood could no longer withstand the impetuous onslaught
of the Englishmen, and presently a voice was heard from their diminished
ranks shouting: "We surrender! we surrender! Mercy, mercy!"
Cavendish raised his voice in command; the slaughter ceased, and the two
armadas were in the hands of the English. The Spaniards were ordered to
fling down their weapons, and they obeyed.
They were then at once sent below and secured under hatches, and the
victors were now free to turn their attention to the plate ships that
were their primary objective.
Such boats as would swim were quickly lowered and filled with armed men,
whose orders were to board the vessels, capture them out of hand, and
carry them out to sea under their own canvas; after which the English
vessels and their two prizes would make their way out of the roadstead
as well as might be in their shattered state.
Once out of the bay, the uninjured vessels of the plate fleet would be
able to tow their companions in misfortune.
At sight of the approaching boats, containing the victorious English,
the crews of the plate ships were seized with uncontrollable panic, and
many of them incontinently jumped overboard, whilst the remainder
hurriedly lowered their boats and pulled shoreward, anxious only to
escape by any means from so terrible a foe. And this they were allowed
to do without let or hindrance from the English, as the latter had
already quite as many prisoners as they could conveniently look after.
The vessels were boarded, and sail made; and presently the enraged
population of La Guayra had the bitter mortification of seeing the plate
ships sail out of the roadstead in the possession of the English.
They swore vengeance, deep and awful, should any of those "pirates"--as
they always termed the English adventurers--ever fall into their hands;
but the latter were equally ignorant of and indifferent to such threats.
The vessels, injured and uninjured, in due time gained the outside of
the roadstead, and there hove-to, in order to effect temporary repairs.
Meanwhile Cavendish had resolved to jury-rig his vessels, and sink the
two armadas in full view of the town, to make the defeat and capture
still more bitter to the Spaniards.
The Spaniards were transferred from the _Sotomayor_ and the _Mejico_ to
the English fleet, and at daylight the warships were sunk in full view
of the town. The English fleet then anchored, and proceeded with their
work of repair; whilst, for safety's sake, a prize crew was put on board
each of the plate ships, which were then sent away to the former
hiding-place at the little bay down the coast.
Whilst the repairs were going forward, Cavendish held another council,
at which it was resolved to send an expedition by night to attack La
Guayra itself. He argued that the Spaniards would deem them content
with the capture of the plate ships, and would never expect them to land
and attack the city. They would be taken by surprise; and, as the
crowning event of the successful enterprise just executed, he would sack
and burn the town, "to give the Spaniards something to remember him by",
as he phrased it.
The sailors were only too delighted at the idea of attacking their
enemies again, as also at the prospect of the plunder to be obtained at
the looting and sack of the city.
The boats were therefore lowered over the side of the ships remote from
the town, and lay under the vessels' lee during the day, in readiness
for the attack that night.
All day long the repairs were gone on with, and after nightfall torches
and lanterns were lit, to deceive the Spaniards into believing that they
were working hard all through the night, and so lessen their suspicion
as to the probability of any further attack.
A keen watch was kept on the town all day long, to discover whether any
preparations were being made to resist attack, but nothing of the kind
could be discovered.
Evidently the Spaniards, as Cavendish had anticipated, were lulled to
security by the supposition that the English, having secured the plate
fleet, would have no reason or incentive for returning, and fondly hoped
that, as soon as the repairs to the ships were finished, they would sail
away; and that would be the last they would see of the heretic dogs.
But they little knew the character of Cavendish; he was not the man to
abandon any enterprise upon which he had once entered. It was a
principle of his to inflict the greatest possible amount of damage on
the enemy that he could; and meanwhile the town of La Guayra still
remained uninjured.
Therefore--so ran his argument--La Guayra must be sacked and laid in
ashes before he could consider his duty as thoroughly finished.
As a consequence, shortly after midnight the boats of the fleet stole
silently out from under the sheltering lee of their parent vessels, and
made swiftly and noiselessly, with muffled oars, for the town.
Roger and Harry, ready as ever for an adventure, no matter how dangerous
it might be, were in the boats, and keeping a sharp lookout ahead; for
by this time there were but few lights to guide them, the whole city
being wrapped in darkness.
Everything ahead of and around them was perfectly quiet; not a sound
disturbed the still night air save only the scarcely audible ripple of
water under the boats' bows as they swept gently shoreward.
Presently there was a grating of pebbles under their keels, and the
boats stopped dead.
The crews silently disembarked, and all stood still for a few moments,
listening intently to ascertain whether the noise of the boats grounding
on the beach had been heard. But no sound came to them, and, after
waiting a little longer to make certain, the boats were gently pushed
off again, each in charge of a couple of hands to take care of them, and
the marauders proceeded up the beach, soon arriving on the road that ran
the whole length of the town at the edge of the shingle.
The first thing to be done was to obtain possession of the fort; and,
feeling their way as best they could in the dense darkness, they set off
in the direction in which they knew it lay.
Up the hill they marched, and presently a black mass, somewhat darker
than their surroundings, showed itself against the sky. They were
there.
Stealing quietly round, they searched for the gateway, which they soon
found.
Everything was now ready for the attack, and the officers went silently
among the men to discover whether all were present, when it was found
that not a single man was missing, or had lost his way in the dark.
Two sacks ready filled with powder, tightly pressed down, and tied at
the mouth, were now brought forward.
They were placed in position against the ponderous iron-bound door, a
train was laid to them, and the men then retreated to a safe distance
and lay down, waiting for the explosion.
Presently there was a flicker of light as the spark was struck, and at
the same moment Roger and Harry grasped hands for a second, for bloody
work was about to begin.
There was a splutter, a stream of fire ran along the ground, and, as
they gazed, an enormous flash of brilliant white light blazed up, nearly
blinding them, followed by a deafening report and a tremendous
concussion that seemed to make the very earth tremble. And with it came
the sound of wrenching iron, cracking timber, and the crash of falling
masonry, and from the interior of the fort the clamour and outcry of the
sudden awakening of its occupants.
But the English, with no cheer or shout to announce their approach,
leaped to their feet, dashed across the intervening ground, and plunged
over the fallen masonry and wreckage of the gate into the interior of
the fort and into the dim radiance of hastily kindled lanterns.
Here and there they found a man, only half-awake, confusedly running to
ascertain what might be the origin of the uproar, and him they cut down
at once. From room to room they went, giving no quarter--knowing that
they themselves would receive none,--and one by one the unhappy
Spaniards were killed.
There was no organised resistance; it was every man for himself, for
they had been taken most completely by surprise.
Roger, with Harry and a few more, ran at once up aloft and came out upon
the battlements, where with mallet and spike they industriously
proceeded to render the guns useless.
Into the touch-hole of every gun a spike nail was driven as far as it
would go, thus effectually preventing the possibility of the weapon
being fired until the spike was drilled out, which would necessitate the
expenditure of at least an hour of hard work.
In a very short time every gun was effectually spiked, and, the capture
of the fort being by this time completely accomplished, the men formed
up again outside, and descended at the double to the town, which was now
thoroughly awakened and alarmed.
The cathedral was to be the next place of call, the object being to
remove the gold and silver plate with which it was known to be
furnished.
Meanwhile the tocsins were being sounded. The brazen voices of the
church bells pealed out high above all the other clamour. To add to the
confusion and terror, the English halted, and, fixing their arquebuses,
fired a volley into a square where some troops seemed to be mustering.
Immediately upon the crash of the volley came cries and screams from the
terrified populace, bearing eloquent witness to the execution wrought by
the flying bullets. Then, picking up their weapons, the English flew
like fiends through the town, cutting down all who had the temerity to
oppose them.
The cathedral was soon reached, and they entered it.
Lights were glimmering far up the aisles, just lit by the trembling
priests, who had come in by ones and twos to find out what all the
uproar was about. But the English pressed on, undeterred by their
presence, and, moving up the long chancel, reached the altar.
Two or three seamen made their way to the belfry, and, loosing the
bell-ropes, in the madness of their excitement began to ring the bells
in the steeple; and presently, clang, clang, clang, came from the tower
as they hauled on the ropes. Rushing from one bell-rope to another,
they started every bell in the steeple ringing, with an effect that was
appalling and terrible.
As the bells gained momentum, and swung on their beams, so did the ropes
attached to them fly up and down through their appointed holes in the
belfry roof, with ever-increasing velocity.
Now they began to twine round each other like living, twisting serpents,
and the sailors pulling them had to spring quickly aside to avoid being
caught by the flying and coiling ends.
Clang! clang! The sound of the bells now became a mad jangle, and the
steeple fairly rocked to their swinging.
Everywhere the people were pouring out of their houses in terror and
panic, not knowing whither to turn for safety.
Those who were below in the church were now tearing all the gold and
silver ornamentation from the altar, and the communion plate was
scattered on the floor of the chancel.
Vainly the frightened priests strove to stay the work of destruction and
violation; the seamen were deaf to all entreaty, and cut and tore the
silken hangings from the altar, wrapping the costly fabric over their
own tarry and soiled clothing. Every man plundered for himself only,
and would allow none to rob him of his intended spoil.
Above the altar stood a life-sized figure of the Blessed Virgin Mother,
exquisitely modelled in solid gold, and clothed in rich fabric that was
adorned with precious stones innumerable. The sailors saw it, and
leaped one after another upon the altar, drawing their swords and
hacking off the gems, whilst the priests covered their eyes with horror
at the desecration and sacrilege.
The eyes of the figure consisted of two magnificent sapphires of great
size, and, being unable to reach these with their swords, the sailors
put their weapons behind and under the image, and with a few violent
wrenches it came crashing to the ground with a thunderous noise.
As it fell, from above them in the belfry came a most awful, piercing,
and agonising scream of anguish. It rose in one shrill cry above every
other sound, and echoed, long-drawn out and ghastly, among the dim
arches of the roof high above them.
The fearful cry rose and fell, while all below stood still, frozen into
silence by the utter horror of the sound. It was as the voice of a lost
soul in the most dreadful torment. As suddenly as it had arisen it
ceased, and it was now noticed that the tenor bell was no longer
clanging its deep mellow voice above them in the steeple.
An old priest stepped out from among his brethren.
"Cease, ye wicked men!" cried he in excellent English. "Cease, ye
heretics and sacrilegious dogs, ere worse befall ye! That awful shriek
was the despairing cry of a soul torn from its body in awful torment.
Take warning, ye, from that man's dreadful fate; for a man it was,
although ye might have deemed the voice that of a devil!
"I can tell ye his doom. He was caught up by the whirling ropes of the
bells which ye have rung to your own confusion, and his body has been
torn to pieces in the pipe through which the bell-rope runs. Take
warning, I say, and leave this sacred place in peace!"
He spoke no more, for one of the officers, fearing the effect his words
might have on the superstitious seamen, seized him by the shoulders and
hustled him down the long aisle of the building and through the door
into the street.
Harry and Roger could not bring themselves to take part in the shocking
work of desecration, and were standing some distance away, surveying the
scene with disgust, when suddenly above the bestial shouts and uproar
came the cry: "Save yourselves, lads, run! There is no time to lose;
the church is on fire! Run! Run!"
Startled amid their work of destruction, the men paused and looked round
to see whence the voice had come, but could not discover its
whereabouts.
As they looked, however, columns of smoke were seen drifting about the
building and issuing from the crevices of the roof and walls.
Evidently the alarm was genuine, by whomsoever given, and the sailors
made for the doors. Those who had overturned the golden figure still
clung to their booty, and, raising it in their arms, half-carried and
half-dragged it away with them by main force.
It was a scene of the most utter confusion; some staggered away
overladen with gold and silver cups, others with costly silks and
fabrics, whatever most appealed to their erratic taste.
When nearly all were out of the building, Roger and his friend awoke to
the fact that they were being left alone, and ran forward to escape
while there was time; but, even as they turned to go, the ground seemed
to fall from beneath their feet, and they plunged down, down, until they
struck the hard ground below, the shock causing them to lose
consciousness.