Tandy had timed our arrival in the bay with great exactness, since, soon after midday, both the queen's ships and ourselves had dropped anchor within it, the former saluting, and being saluted in return, by some artillery from the crazy old castle that rose above the shore. And now from those three frigates away went pinnaces and jolly boats, as well as the great long boats and launches, all in a hurry to fetch off the water which they needed, while also I could see very well that from thePembrokethey were a-hoisting overboard their barge, into which got some of the land officers--as the sailors call the soldiers--and also a gentleman in black who was, I supposed, a chaplain.
And then I considered that it was time for me to be ashore, too, since I knew not how long 'twould take for the ships of war to get in what they wanted, and to be off and away again; though Tandy told me I need be in no manner of hurry, since they had let down what he called their shore anchors, which they would not have done had they intended going away again in a moment, when they would have used instead their kedge, or pilot, anchors.
However, I was so impatient that I would not be stayed, and consequently begged the captain to let me have one of the shore boats, which had come out on our arrival and were now all around us, called alongside; and into this I jumped the instant it touched our ship. My few goods I left on board, to be brought on land when the captain himself came, which he intended to do later; nor did I make my farewells to him, since I felt pretty sure we should meet again shortly, while it was by no means certain that the admiral would take me with him, after I had delivered my news; but, instead, might order me to return at once to the earl with some reply message. Yet I hoped this would not be so, especially since his Lordship had bidden me see the thing out and then bring him, as fast as I could make my way back to the Netherlands, my account of what had been done.
As for that miserable old creature, Carstairs, I clean forgot all about him; nor even if I had remembered his existence, should I have troubled to pay him any adieux, for in truth, I never supposed that I should see him again in this world, and for certain, I had no desire to do so; yet as luck would have it--but there is no need to anticipate.
I jumped into the shore boat, I say, as soon as it came alongsideLa Mouche Noire, and was quickly rowed into the port, observing as I went that there was a considerable amount of craft moored in the bay, many of which had doubtless run in there during the storms of a night or two ago, while, also, there were some sheltering in it which would possibly have been lying in other harbors now--and those, Spanish ones--had it not been for the war and the consequent danger of attack from the English and Dutch navies in any other waters than those of Portugal, she being, as I have said, neutral at present, though leaning to our--the allies'--side. To wit, there were at this moment some German ships, also a Dane or two, a Dutchman and a Swedish bark here.
And now I stepped ashore on Portuguese ground, and found myself torn hither and thither by the most ragged and disorderly crowd of beggars one could imagine, some of them endeavouring to drag me off to a dirty inn at the waterside, in front of which there sat two priests a-drinking with some scaramouches, whom I took to be Algarvian soldiers, while others around me had, I did believe, serious intentions on my pockets had I not kept my hands tight in them. Also--which hearted me up to see--there were many of our English sailors about, dressed in their red kersey breeches with white tin buttons, and their grey jackets and Welsh kersey waistcoats, all of whom were bawling and halloaing to one another--making the confusion and noise worse confounded--and using fierce oaths in the greatest good humour. And then, while I stood there wondering how I should find those whom I sought for, I heard a voice behind me saying in cheery tones in my own tongue:
"Faith, Tom, 'tis an Englishman, I tell you. No doubt about that. Look to his rig; observe also he can scarce speak a word more of the language of the country he is in than we can ourselves. Does not that proclaim him one of us? Except our beloved friends, the French, who are as ignorant of other tongues as we are, we are the worst. Let's board him--we are all in the same boat."
Now, knowing very well that these remarks could hardly be applied to any one but me, I turned round and found close to my elbow a fat, jolly-looking gentleman, all clad in black, and with a black scarf slung across him, and wearing a tie-wig, which had not been powdered for many a day--a gentleman with an extremely red face, much pitted with the small-pox. And by his side there stood four or five other gentlemen, who, 'twas easy to see at a glance, were of my own trade--their gold laced scarlet coats, the aiguillettes of one, the cockades in all their hats, showed that.
"Sir," said the one who had spoken, taking off his own black hat, which, like his wig, would have been the better for some attention, and bowing low. "I fear you overheard me. Yet I meant no offense. And, since I am very sure that you are of our country, there should be none. Sir, I am, if you will allow me to present myself, Mr. Beauvoir, chaplain of her Majesty's ship,Pembroke. These are my friends, officers serving under his Grace of Ormond, and of my Lord Shannon's grenadiers and Colonel Pierce's regiment"; whereon he again took off his hat to me, in which polite salutation he was followed by the others, while I returned the courtesy.
And now I knew that I had found what I wanted--knew that the road was open to me to reach the admiral, to tell my tale. I had found those who could bring me into communication with the fleet; be very sure I should not lose sight of them now. But first I had to name myself, wherefore I said:
"Gentlemen, I am truly charmed to see you. Let me in turn present myself. My name is Mervyn Crespin, lieutenant in the Cuirassiers, or Fourth Horse, and it is by God's special grace that I have been so fortunate as to encounter you. For," and here I glanced round at the filthy crowd which environed us, and lowered my voice a little, "I am here on a special mission to your commander from my Lord Marlborough. Yet I thought I had failed when I heard you were off and away from Cadiz."
Now, when I mentioned the position which I held in the army all looked with increased interest at me, and again took off their hats, while when I went on to speak of my mission from the Earl of Marlborough there came almost a dazed look into some of their faces, as though 'twas impossible for them to understand what the Captain-General of the Netherlands could have to say with the fleet that had been sent forth from England to Cadiz.
"A message to our commander," Mr. Beauvoir said. "A message to our commander. By the Lord Harry, I am afraid 'tis even now a bootless quest, though. Our commander with all his fleet is on his way back to England--and pretty well dashed, too, through being obliged to draw off from Cadiz, I can tell you. I fear you will not see him this side of Spithead, even if you go with us, who are about to follow him."
That I was also "pretty well dashed" at this news needs no telling, since my feelings may be well enough conceived; yet I plucked up heart to say:
"I do think, if your captain but hears the news I bring, that he will endeavour to catch the fleet and turn it from its homeward course--ay, even though he sets sail again to-night without so much as a drop of fresh water in his casks. 'Tis great news--news that may do much to cripple France."
"Is it private, sir?" the chaplain asked. "For the ears of the admirals alone?"
"Nay," said I; "by no means private from English ears; yet," I continued, with still another glance around, "not to be spoken openly. Is there no room we can adjourn to?"
"We have been trying ourselves for half an hour to find an inn," said one of the grenadiers, with a laugh, "which swarms not with vermin of all sorts. Yet, come, let us endeavour again. Even though there is naught for gentlemen to eat or drink, we may, at least, be alone and hear this news. Come, let us seek for some spot," and he elbowed his way through the waterside crowd which still stood gaping round us, and which, even when we all moved away, hung on our heels, staring at us as though we were some strange beings from another world. Also, perhaps, they thought to filch some scrap of lace or galloon from off our clothes.
"Away, vagabonds! What in heaven's name is Portuguese for 'away, vagabonds'?" muttered Mr. Beauvoir, making signs to the beggarly brood, who--perhaps because often our ships put in here for water, and they were accustomed to seeing the English--held out their dirty, claw-like hands, and shrieked: "Moaney! Moaney! Englase moaney!" "Away, I say, and leave us in peace!"
And gradually, seeing there was nothing more to be gotten after one or two of us had flung them a coin or so, they left us to our devices, so that we were able to stroll along the few miserable streets which the town possessed; able to observe, also, that there was no decent inn into which a person, who valued his future comfort and freedom from a month or so of itching, could put his foot in safety.
But now we reached a little open spot, orplaza, a place which had a melancholy, deserted look--there being several empty houses in this gloomy square--while, on another, we saw the arms of France stuck up, a shield with a blazing sun upon it,--the emblem of Louis!--and the lilies on it, also--and guessed it must be the consul's place of business. And here it seemed to me as if this was as fitting an opportunity as I should find for making the necessary disclosures--disclosures which, when these gentlemen had heard them, might induce them to hurry back to thePembroke, bring me into communication with the captain, and lead him to put to sea, in the hopes of picking up the remainder, and chief part, of the English fleet, which was but twenty-four hours ahead of them.
"Gentlemen," I said, "here is a quiet spot"--as indeed it was, seeing that there was nothing alive in this mournfulplazabut a few scraggy fowls pecking among the stones, and a lean dog or two sleeping in the sun. "Let me tell you my news."
Whereupon all of them halted and stood round me, listening eagerly while I unfolded my story and gave them the intelligence that the galleons had gone into Vigo, escorted, as the earl had said while we rode toward Rotterdam, by a large French fleet.
"'Fore George, Harry," said Mr. Beauvoir, turning toward the elder of the officers with him, a captain in Pierce's regiment, "but this is mighty fine news. Only--can it be true? I mean," he went on with a pleasant bow to me, "can it be possible that the Earl of Marlborough is not mistaken? For, if 'tis true and we can only communicate with Sir George Rooke and get him back again, 'twill be a fine thing; wipe out the scandal and hubbub that will arise over our retreat from Cadiz, go far to save Parliament enquiries and the Lord knows what--to say nothing of court martials. Humph?"
"Why should the earl be mistaken in this?" asked one of the others. "At least he was right in judging they would not go into Cadiz."
"We must take you at once to Captain Hardy, of our ship," said the chaplain. "'Tis for him to decide when he has heard your story. Come, let us get back to the pinnace--no time must be wasted."
"With the very greatest will in the world," said I. "'Tis for that I have travelled from Holland, and, pray God, I have not come too late. Success means much for me."
Then we turned to go, while the officers attacked me on all sides for an account of the siege of Kaiserswerth, of which they had not yet heard full accounts, and we were just leaving the square when there appeared at the door of the French consul's house a man who, no sooner did he observe us and our English appearance--which betrays us all over Europe, I have noticed, though I know not why--and also the brilliancy of the officers' dress, than he set to work bowing and grimacing like a monkey; also he began calling out salutations to us in French, and asking us how the English did now in the wars? and saying that, for himself, he very much regretted that France and England had got flying at one another's throats once more, since if they were not fools and would only keep united, as they had been in the days of him whom he calledle grand roi Charles Deux, they might rule the world between them; which was true enough as regarded their united powers (if not the greatness of that late king of ours), as many other people more sensible than he have thought.
"'Tis a merry heart," said Mr. Beauvoir, smiling on the fantastic creature as he gibbered and jumped about on his doorstep, while the others looked contemptuously at him, for we soldiers had but a poor opinion of the French, though always pleased to fight them; "a joyous blade! Let us return his civility"; whereupon he took off his hat, which courtesy we all imitated, and wished him "Good day" politely in his own language.
"Ha! you speak French, monsieur," the other said at this; "also you have thebonne mine. English gentlemens is always gentlemens. Ha! I ver' please see you."--he was himself now speaking half English and half French. "Je vous salue. Lagos ver'triste. I always glad see gentlemens.Veuillez un verre de vin? C'est Français, vrai Français!Ver' goot."
"'Tis tempting," said the chaplain of the Pembroke, his face appearing to get more red than before at the invitation. "Well, we can do no harm in having a crack with him. Only--silence, remember," and he glanced at the officers. "Not a word of our doings--lately, now, or to come."
"Never fear," said the eldest. "We can play a better game than that would be," whereon the chaplain, after bowing gracefully to our would-be host, said in very fair French that, if he desired it, we would all drink a glass of wine with him--only he feared we were too many.
"Not a jot, not a jot," this strange creature cried, beckoning all of us into the house and forthwith leading us into a whitewashed room, in the middle of which was a table with, upon it, a great outre of wine, bound and supported by copper bands and flanked with a number of glasses, so that one might have thought he was ever offering entertainment to others. Then, with great dexterity, he filled the requisite number of glasses, and, after making us each touch his with ours, drank a toast.
"A la fin de la guerre," he said, after screaming, first, "Attention, messieurs," and rapping on the table with his glass to claim that attention, "à l'amitié incassable de la France et de l'Angleterre. Vivent, vivent, vivent la France et l'Angleterre," and down his throat went all the wine.
"A noble toast," said Mr. Beauvoir, with a gravity which--I know not why!--I did not think, somehow, was his natural attribute, "a noble toast. None--be he French or English--could refuse to pledge that," and, with a look at the others, away went his liquor, too, while my brother officers, with a queer look upon their faces, which seemed to express the thought that they scarce knew whether they ought to be carousing in this manner with the representative of an enemy, swallowed theirs.
"Ha! goot, ver' goot," our friend went on, "we will have some more." And in a twinkling he had replenished the glasses and got his own up to, or very near to, his lips. And catching a glance of Mr. Beauvoir's grey eye as he did this, I felt very sure that the reverend gentleman knew as well as I did, or suspected as well as I did, that these were by no means the first potations our friend had been indulging in this morning.
"Another toast," he cried now, "sacré nom d'un chien!we will drink more toasts.A la santé"--then paused, and muttered: "No, no. I cannot propose that. No.Ce n'est pas juste."
"What is not just, monsieur?" asked Mr. Beauvoir, pausing with his own uplifted glass.
"Why,figurez-vous, I was going to commit animpolitesse--what you call arudesse--rudeness--in your English tongue. To propose the continued prosperity of France--no!vraiment il ne faut pas ça. Because you are my guests--I love the English gentlemens always--and it is so certain--so very certain."
"The continued success of France is very certain, monsieur?" said one of the grenadiers, looking darkly at him. "You say that?"
"Sans doute. It cannot be otherwise. On sea and land we must triumph now--and then--then we shall havela paix incassable. Oh! yes, now that Chateaurenault is on the seas, we must perforce win there--win every--everything. And for the land, why----"
"Chateaurenault is on the seas!" exclaimed the chaplain, looking very grave. "And how long has that been, monsieur?"
"Oh, some time, some time." Then he put his finger to his nose and said, looking extremely cunning in his half drunkenness. "And soon now he will be free to scour them, turn his attention to you and the Dutch--curse the Dutch always, they arecochons!--soon, ver' soon. Just as soon as the galleons are unloaded at Vigo--when we need protect them no more."
Swift as lightning all our eyes met as the good-natured sot said this in his boastfulness; then Mr. Beauvoir, speaking calmly again, said:
"So he is protecting them at Vigo, eh? 'Tis not often they unload there."
"Ah, non, non. Not ver' often. But, you see, you had closed Cadiz against them, so,naturellement, they must go in somewhere."
"Naturally. No--not another drop of wine, I thank you."
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. Thedébarquementmust be over by now--oh yes, over by now!--l'amiralwill 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 thePembroke, 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 theEagle, 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 theRoyal 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 stillunloaded.
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 thePembrokehaving 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.
Looking back upon that great day--it was October 11--it seems to me that many of the events which happened must have been due to the mercy and goodness of God, so incredible were they.
For see now what fell out at the very first, namely, that the haze and mist were so thick that we were enabled to anchor at the mouth of the great river and harbour without so much as even our presence being known, so that when the sun set and the fog lifted, the surprise of those snared and trapped creatures was great, and they at once began firing wildly upon us, without, however, doing any harm whatever. But the lifting of that fog showed us what we had to encounter, the work that was to be done.
For, first, it enabled us to see that, across the river, or narrow strait, as indeed it was, the French admiral had laid a tremendous boom, made up of cables, yards and masts, topchains and casts, some nine feet in circumference, while the whole was kept fixed and steady by anchors at either side. This, too, we perceived, was constructed between two forts known as the Ronde and the Noot, one on the left bank and the other on the right, while far up the harbour, where we saw the galleons all a-lying tucked in comfortably under the cliffs, with a line of French ships of battle, and some Spanish ones, ahead of and guarding them, we perceived a great fort, which is known as the Fort of Redondella.
And now the night came down upon us, and we knew that for this day there would be no fighting, though, since all through it the admiral went from ship to ship in his barge, giving orders, 'twas very certain that at daybreak it would begin.
And so it did, as now I have to describe.
For on the morrow, and when, as near six o'clock as may be, the sun came up swiftly over the great hills, or mountains, which abound here, we made our first preparations for the attack by the landing of the Duke of Ormond with two thousand five hundred and fifty men on the side of the Fort Redondella, they marching at once toward it on foot.
As for myself, although a soldier, it had been decided that I should remain in thePembroke, and this for more than one reason.
"You have," said Captain Hardy to me, "no uniform with you; therefore, if you fall into the hands of those on shore it may go hard with you. Yet here you can be of service; help train a gun, if need be, issue orders, take part in the boarding, which must surely occur, perhaps take part in sacking of the galleons. There's business for you--such, indeed as, as a soldier, you are not very like to ever see again. My lad!" he went on--and in truth I was a lad to him, though I esteemed myself a very full-fledged man--"you are to be congratulated. You will have much to talk about in years to come--if you survive this day--which falls not often to a landsman's lot," and he ran away as gay as a lad himself, all grizzled with service though he was, to prepare for assisting in breaking the boom.
So I stayed in thePembrokeand, as you shall see, if you do but read, the doing so led to all that happened to me which I have now to set down, and all of which--had it not so happened--would have prevented this narrative from ever being penned, since it is not to describe only the siege of Vigo and the taking of the Spanish galleons that I am a-writing of this story.
Therefore I proceed:
Down from the hills already the smoke was rolling fast, obscuring the beauteous morn by now; white smoke from the cannon in the fort--through which there leapt every moment great spits of flame from the big guns' mouths!--dun-coloured smoke from the grenades carried by Lord Shannon and Colonel Pierce's grenadiers; black, greasy smoke vomited forth from the fuzees. And it came down to the water and poured across it in clouds, enveloping the galleons in its wreaths and the great French ships of battle; clinging around our own topsails and masts, almost obscuring each of our vessels from the other.
Yet not so much, neither, but that--a breeze having sprung up after a calm which had enforced us to drop our anchors for a while--we, of thePembroke, could see glide by us a great ship, with her men on yards and masts and in fighting tops, all cheering lustily, and some a-singing--a vessel that rushed forward as a tiger rushes to its prey. At first we thought it was theRoyal Sovereign--that great, noble ship which transmits a name down from Bluff Harry's days--then knew we were mistaken. It was theTorbay, Vice-Admiral Hopson's own, in which he flew his flag, her sails all clapt on, her cable training at her side, where he had cut it, so as to lose no precious time, her course direct for the boom. And after her went ourselves, as hound let loose from leash follows hound. Captain Hardy had spoken true--'twas a day not to be missed!
We heard a snapping, a crashing--'twas awful, too, to hear!--we heard roar upon roar from hundreds of lusty throats in that great ship--we knew the boom was gone--cut through as a woodsman's axe cuts through a sapling. Amidst all the enemy's fire--fire from the French ships and those Spanish forts on shore--we heard it. And we, too, cheered and shouted--sent up our queen's name to the smoke-obscured heavens above. Some cried the old watchword of past days, "St. George and England"; some even danced and jumped upon the decks for glee--danced and jumped, even though the hail of ball was scattering us like ninepins, or a hundred pins!--even though some lay writhing on those decks, and some were lying there headless, armless, legless! What mattered? The enemy were there behind that boom, and it was broken. We were amongst them now. Let those die who must; those live who were to conquer.
Between theBourbonandL'Espérancethe nobleTorbayrushed--to the jaws of death she went, as though to a summer cruise on friendly seas, her anchor cables roared through her hawse-holes--Hopson had anchored 'twixt those two great French ships! He was there; there was to be, could be, no retreat now; 'twas death or victory.
At first it seemed as though it could alone be the first. The cannon grinned like teeth through tier upon tier of gunboats in the Frenchman's sides; the balls crashed into the Torbay; they did the same with us and Vandergoes' ship, now ranged on the other side of theBourbon--a French fireship had clapt alongside of her, and set her rigging alight; her foretopmast went by the board; her sails were all aflame; her foreyard burnt like a dry log; her larboard shrouds burnt at the dead-eyes.
Yet still she fought and fought--vomited forth her own flames and destruction; still from the throats of those left alive came shouts of savage exultation, for, all afire as she was, we saw that she was winning. And not only she, but all of us. We had sunk one Frenchman ourselves. Vandergoes had mastered theBourbon--she was done for! TheAssociationhad silenced a battery ashore. And now a greater thing than all happened--Chateaurenault saw that he was beaten, set his flagship,Le Fort, on fire, and fled to the shore, calling on all his captains to follow him.
Yet still one awful dread remained! TheTorbaywas burning fiercely, charred masts and yards were falling to the deck--itself aflame--blocks burning like tarred wood crashed down, too. What if her powder magazine exploded! If it did, all in her neighbourhood would be destroyed, hurled to atoms, as she herself would be.
Almost it seemed as if that had happened now. There came a hideous roar, a belch of black, suffocating smoke; it set all sneezing and coughing as though a sulphur mine were afire. Yet that explosion, that great cloud of filthy blackness, those masses of burnt and charred wood hurled up into the air and falling with a crash on every deck around, amidst shrieks and howls and curses terrible to hear, though drowned somewhat by the booming of the cannon all about, was to be the salvation of theTorbay, of ourselves, and of the Dutchmen.
For it was the fireship itself that had exploded. It was, in truth, a merchantman laden with snuff, which had been hastily fitted up as one of those craft. And in so doing the density of the fumes which it emitted, and its fallingdébriswhen it was burst asunder, helped to put out the flames that raged in theTorbayand in us.
The firing began to cease even as this happened; the enemy began to recognise that 'twas useless. They would have been blind not to have so recognised. On shore 'twas easyAssociation; on the water theBourbonwas ours. The lilies were hauled down, in their place floated the banner of England; the fireship had vanished into the elements, the great boom lay in pieces on the water like some long, severed snake. Yet might one have wept to gaze upon theTorbay--the queen and victress of this fight--and upon ourselves.
There she lay--Hopson by now in theMonmouth, to which he had been forced to transfer his flag, so sad a ruin was she--listing over to her wounded starboard side, into which the water poured in volumes, it becoming tinged as it mixed with the blood in her scuppers; her yards and masts were charred sticks; black bits of sooty, greasy matter, which had once been her white sails, floated down slowly to the waves and fell upon and dissolved into them. Also her shrouds were but burnt pieces of rope and twine now. Upon her deck there were stretched a hundred and twenty men, dead or dying. And with thePembrokeit was almost as bad. We were shattered and bruised, our foremast gone, our own sails shot through and through, and hanging over the sides like winding sheets, our own decks charnel houses. Yet we had won the fight, the day was ours, the galleons our booty.
But were they? That was the question!
'Twas true, they were all as we had first seen them, though some, we noticed, had been run ashore, perhaps to give them a chance of hurriedly landing some of their cargo; but, alas! we noticed now that they were all aflame, were burning fiercely.
And we knew well enough what this meant--meant that the French and Spaniards had set them on fire so that we should benefit nothing through their falling into our hands. And all of us saw it at the same time--Rooke saw it, Hopson saw it--every man on board our English decks who was still alive saw and understood.
By God's mercy the breeze was still blowing into the strait. Some of us still had some sail left clinging to our bruised and battered yards; enough to take us farther in, enough to enable the boarding parties to row ashore, to reach those burning ships, to save something, surely!
From all the ships' sides as we ran up as far as we could toward where they lay, came now the hoarse grating of the ropes running through the blocks as the boats were lowered. Into those boats leaped swarms of men, their cutlasses ready, their pistols in their hands, their eyes inflamed with the lust of plunder, wild oaths and jokes, curses--and, sometimes, prayers that we were not too late--upon their lips.
And in our cutter I went, too--appointed to the command of her in place of the lieutenant who should have taken that command, but who now lay dead upon thePembroke'sdeck, a dozen balls in his body.
Jostling one another--for there were scores of boats lowered by now, and all making their way, under either sail or the seamen's brawny arms, to where those burning galleons lay--we rushed through the half mile of water that separated us from them, all eager to board and be amongst the spoil. And woe, I thought, to him or them who, when we were there, should strive to bar our entrance! Our blood was up, fevered by the carnage of the earlier hours; woe to them who endeavoured to prevent our final triumph! Through wreckage of all kinds we went, spars, yards and masts, military tops floating like tubs, dead men face upward, living men clinging to oars and overturned boats and shrieking to be saved, while ever still, in front of us, the galleons burned and blazed--one blew up as we neared it, another, spouting flames from port and window and burning to the water's edge, sank swiftly and in a moment beneath the water.
But at last we were up to them, were beneath their bows, could see their great figureheads and read their names--most of them so terribly sacred that one wondered that even Spaniards should so dare to profane those holy words by using them for their ships!
And now some orders were issued by a grey-haired officer to those close by. The boarding parties were told off in boats of twos and threes to the different vessels flaming before our eyes. The one which I commanded was directed to a great vessel of three decks, having above her upper one a huge poop-royal, and named--heavens, what a name for a ship!--La Sacra Familia. And as we swept toward them all we saw that one mercy was now to be vouchsafed. There would be no further slaughter here; no need for more shedding of blood. The vessels were not defended; those who had set fire to them had undoubtedly fled.
Yet up on the poop-royal of that galleon, to which we now clambered by aid of rope and ladder--with cutlass in mouth and pistol in belt--as well as by chains and steps, we saw there was still some human life left. We saw a tall monk standing there, gazing down curiously at us, his shaven crown glistening in the autumn sun. Also, it seemed as though he smiled a welcome to us, was glad to see us; perhaps regarded us as men who might save him from that burning mass.
We rushed on board, and first, before all other things, except a salutation which I made to the monk by a touch of the finger to my hat, I directed those under my command to endeavour to stifle the fire, which seemed at present to be entirely confined to the after part of the ship. "For," said I to those of my own following, and also to those who had come in the other boats under the command of two bo'suns, "if this is not done there will be no getting at the goods whatever. Where generally is the storage made?" I asked, turning to one of these officers.
"Faith, sir, I know not," he said, with a harsh laugh. "My account has been ever with the king's--and now the queen's--ships. We sailors know little of such things as stored treasure. Yet," and he again laughed, "we have our opportunity now. If we can but quench this fire, we may learn something."
"Perhaps," said a voice behind me, musical and deep, and greatly to my astonishment--when I turned round and saw who its owner was, namely, the monk--speaking in very good English, "I may be of some service here. I have been a passenger in her since she loaded at Guayaquil," and his eyes met mine boldly.
They were large, roving eyes, too, jet-black and piercing, and looked out from a dark, handsome face. A face as close-shaven as the crown, yet with the blue tinge all over upper lip and chin and cheeks which showed where there grew a mass of hair beneath.
"I am obliged to you, sir," I answered, touching my hat again--for his manner proclaimed that this was no common peasant who had become a monk because the life was easier than that of a hedger and ditcher; but, instead, a man who knew something of the world and its courtesies. Then, he having told me that all the plate and coin was in the middle of the ship, and the merchandise, such as skins and leather, Campeachy wood, quinquina, silks, indigo and cochineal in the after part, I sent off all the men to endeavour at once to extinguish the flames below; to cut off communication between the atmosphere and that part of the ship which was already in flames; to close all hatches and bulkhead doors; to stop up the crevices by which the air could pass to the burning part, and, if possible, to separate the one half of the vessel from the other, as well as to pour down water on the flames.
And, half an hour later--while still I stood gazing down on the men at their work, and still by my side stood the monk, uttering no word, but regarding with interest all that was doing--one of the bo'suns called up to me, saying:
"We have scotched it now, sir. There is no more fire left."