Chapter XXIII: 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.