Chapter Seventeen.
How they fought the galley.
By the time that all had been made secure aboard the galleon it was within an hour and a half of sunrise, and Saint Leger knew from his own feelings that his followers must be beginning to experience the fatiguing efforts of their strenuous and exciting night’s work; he therefore told off four of the most trustworthy of the men to observe an anchor watch, under Dyer, and ordered the remainder of the crew to go below and snatch a couple of hours’ rest, that they might be the better fitted to cope with the events of the coming day, which might well be of such a character as to tax their energies to the utmost. Then, accompanied by William Barker the gunner, and two men bearing lighted lanterns, he went below to inspect the ship’s magazine—the keys of which he had found in the captain’s state-room—and to take stock of the nature and quantity of the ammunition therein. This was found to be abundant, the magazine being indeed packed full of powder and matches, while a generous supply of shot of all descriptions, including bar and chain, was discovered in the adjacent shot lockers, much to the young captain’s relief, for his chief anxiety had been lest, after having taken the galleon, he should find himself hampered by a lack of the means to keep her. As for small arms, such as arquebuses, pistols, pikes, axes, swords, bows—long and cross—arrows, and bolts, a full supply for a much stronger crew than his own had already been found, irrespective of the well-tried weapons which they had brought with them across the isthmus. George’s mind was therefore now at rest, so far as matters of the greatest importance were concerned; he therefore concluded his inspection and returned to the deck, easy in mind and greatly elated at the wonderful success which had thus far attended his bold dash upon Panama.
The new day was heralded by the sudden appearance of a fleet of some seventy or eighty fishing-boats and canoes coming out of the harbour and hastening toward the fishing grounds in the offing. Several of these small craft passed quite close to the galleon, and the sight of them inspired George with an idea. Making his way from the poop down into the grand saloon, he rummaged about until he found writing materials, when he sat down at the table and after some consideration penned the following letter:
“On board the galleon Cristobal Colon.
“August 19th, in the year of Our Lord 1569.
“To his Excellency Don Silvio Hermoso Maria Picador
“Calderon,
“Governor of the City of Panama, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
“Illustrious Señor.
“On the fourth day of this present month I arrived at the city of Nombre de Dios upon a mission the purpose of which was to secure the release of seventeen Englishmen who were last year made prisoners in the course of a treacherous and unjustifiable attack upon the fleet of Admiral Hawkins while, in pursuance of an agreement between himself and His Excellency Don Martin Enriquez, the Viceroy of Mexico, he was refitting his ships.
“I have traced those seventeen prisoners in the first instance from San Juan de Ulua to Nombre de Dios; and upon my arrival at Nombre I was informed by His Excellency Don Sebastian de Albareda, the Governor of the city, that they had been dispatched to Panama. Whereupon, at my request, Don Sebastian was so obliging as to address a letter to Your Excellency, informing you of the purpose of my visit, and requesting you to take whatever steps might be necessary to secure the immediate release of those seventeen Englishmen and their surrender to me.
“In due course Don Sebastian received your reply to his letter, and that reply he permitted me to read. From it I regretfully learned that Your Excellency categorically refused to accede to Don Sebastian’s most reasonable request, notwithstanding the fact that the city of Nombre was then in my hands and at my mercy, and that, for all you knew to the contrary, your refusal would involve it in all the horrors of sack and destruction.
“Your Excellency, I am not so inhumane as to punish the innocent for the faults of the guilty, therefore since Don Sebastian had obviously done everything in his power to further the success of my mission, and had failed, not through his own fault but because of your obstinacy, I spared Nombre, and determined to try what personal persuasion might effect with yourself. Accompanied by my followers, I set out for Panama, where we arrived last night. And in the early hours of this morning I took the first step toward reaching satisfactory terms with Your Excellency by capturing the Cristobal Colon, now riding at anchor in Panama roadstead.
“No doubt Your Excellency is well acquainted with the galleon and the possibilities which she affords to a determined captain backed by a strong and courageous crew. If, however, Your Excellency chances to be ignorant as to those possibilities—which I can scarcely believe—her captain, who, as I understand, is at present in your city, will doubtless inform you that her armament is sufficiently powerful and complete to destroy Panama in the course of a few hours. To prevent any such unpleasant contingency as that, I therefore have to request that Your Excellency will do me the honour to visit me on board the ship before the hour of noon this day, to treat with me respecting the immediate surrender of the seventeen Englishmen already referred to.
“Failure to comply with this request will be followed by an immediate bombardment of the city, greatly as I shall regret the unnecessary sacrifice of life and property.
“I kiss Your Excellency’s hands and feet,—
“And have the honour to be
“Your Excellency’s most humble and obedient servant,—
“George Saint Leger.”
Having read over this letter and come to the conclusion that it pretty clearly expressed all that he at that moment desired to say to the Governor of Panama, George made a further rummage of the cabin and, having at length found a sheet of paper large enough for his purpose, he took a pen and, dipping the feather of it in ink, proceeded laboriously to print upon it, in Spanish, a proclamation to the citizens of Panama, informing them that he, George Saint Leger, having certain differences to settle with His Excellency the Governor of the city, had, as a preliminary, captured the Cristobal Colon, to which ship he had summoned the Governor, before the hour of noon, for the purpose of a conference; and that, failing obedience on the Governor’s part, the city would be bombarded. He therefore exhorted all citizens who were anxious to escape the horrors of a bombardment to use their influence with the Governor in order to persuade him to attend on board the galleon before the hour named.
This done, the young captain extinguished the lamp, the rays of which were already being dimmed by the daylight pouring down through the skylight and in through the side ports, and ascended to the poop to take a look round. As he stepped out on deck through the companion he perceived that the weather had again changed; the dark clouds which had been sweeping athwart the sky while he and his followers were making the passage from the shore to the ship had vanished, leaving a sky of deep, rich, stainless blue, brightening into clear primrose to the eastward over the summits of the sierras which stood out purple, sharp, and clean-cut against the delicate yellow that was changing, even as he looked, to a clear, warm orange before the approach of the risen but as yet invisible sun. The fresh breeze of a few hours before had dwindled away to a mere breathing, while inshore it had fallen a flat calm, leaving five small craft—probably bound for the Pearl Islands, some forty miles to the southward and eastward—idly swinging upon the low ground swell in the midst of the reflected image of the town and the hilly country behind it. A few pale blue wreaths of wood smoke were rising straight up into the clear morning air here and there over the roofs of the houses, showing that the early cup of chocolate was already in course of preparation for the luxury-loving Panamans, or possibly it might indicate that the working portion of the population were preparing their breakfast; and, peering through his perspective glass, George could see that the quay was already the scene of a considerable amount of animation. The young man laughed quietly to himself as the thought occurred to him that possibly some at least of the animation might be due to the fact that certain persons were busily engaged in an attempt to discover what had become of their missing boats. Then the upper limb of the sun throbbed suddenly into view over the ridge of the sierras, flashing like white-hot gold, a beam of golden light shot down the wooded slopes, a multitude of hitherto invisible objects sprang suddenly into view, and a new day had come to Panama. Meanwhile the calm had imperceptibly spread outward from the shore until it extended a good mile beyond the galleon, where it ended abruptly against a dark blue line showing where the sea-breeze was struggling to conquer the calm and force its way shoreward.
George now turned his attention to matters nearer at hand, and allowed his gaze to wander over the galleon’s spacious decks. They were disgracefully dirty, speaking of the lax discipline that had been permitted to prevail by the easy-going officers of the ship, and he gave a sharp order which presently brought all hands on deck, considerably refreshed, as he could see, by even the short spell of rest which they had enjoyed. Scrubbing brushes, mops, and buckets were searched for and found; and a few minutes later the decks were undergoing such a vigorous process of cleansing as they had not known for many a day. Then, as the planking rapidly dried in the hot rays of the sun, the baggage which the adventurers had brought with them across the isthmus was unpacked and, as the hour of eight boomed out from the Cathedral, Saint George’s Cross was run up on the ensign staff of the galleon! A few fishing-boats were by this time returning to the harbour, and one of these George hailed and ordered alongside. The crew were negroes, and they gaped in open-mouthed astonishment as they passed through the entry port and beheld the decks alive with lithe, active seamen, florid-faced beneath the bronze of their skins, and most unquestionably foreigners. They hazarded no remarks, however, nor—to do them justice—did they exhibit any very great amount of alarm; they were doubtless slaves, animated by a whole-hearted hatred of their Spanish masters, and if the truth could been have arrived at they were probably by no means sorry to find that so fine a ship had fallen into the hands of men who were obviously enemies of the hated Spaniard. They took, with extravagant thanks, the gold which George offered them, and vowed to faithfully perform the service which the young captain demanded of them in return, which was, first to affix, in the most prominent position they could find in the market place, the Proclamation which he had prepared; and, secondly, to deliver at the Governor’s house the letter addressed to that functionary, with which he entrusted them. Then, as soon as the fishermen had departed, all hands except the anchor watch went to breakfast.
Breakfast over, the sail-trimmers, under the boatswain, were sent round the decks to inspect and acquaint themselves thoroughly with the running rigging of the galleon, some of which was rove and led in a fashion different from that in vogue in English ships of the time, in order that they might know exactly where to lay their hands upon any required halliard, sheet, tack, brail, or downhaul in the darkest night; and while this was being done the guns’ crew, under Barker, the gunner, carefully overhauled all the ordnance, great and small, and satisfied themselves that every piece was ready for immediate service. This done, the ordnance was loaded with a full powder charge, and a considerable quantity of shot of various kinds was sent up on deck, ready for immediate use; for George knew not how his message might be received by the Governor, and he was determined to be prepared for anything and everything that could possibly happen.
While these things were being done, Dyer the pilot, for want of something better to do, amused himself by studying the city generally through George’s perspective glass; and after he had done so pretty thoroughly he approached his young captain with a suggestion.
“Cap’n,” he said, “while you’ve been busy wi’ Barker, there, about the ordnance, I’ve been starin’ at the town through thicky glass o’ yours, and the thought have comed to me that if we’re goin’ to be obliged to bombard, we’re anchored in the wrong place. We ought to be lyin’ somewhere over there, a bit more to the east’ard, and a li’l bit closer inshore. So far ’s I can make out, there’s a gurt wide street runnin’ right down to the shore yonder, just in a line wi’ thicky big white house atop of the hill; and if we was anchored in line wi’ thicky street, our shot ’d sweep un from end to end and, unless I be greatly mistaken, would play havoc wi’ some of they big buildin’s, the tops of which you can see over t’other houses, and which I thinks may be Gov’ment buildin’s of some sort—ay, and I be right, too, for, look ’e there, dashed if they ain’t hoistin’ the Spanish flag upon the biggest of ’em now.”
George took the glass and carefully studied the buildings indicated by Dyer, and soon came to the conclusion that the pilot was correct in surmising them to be Government buildings, for as Dyer had said, there was the golden flag of Spain floating from a flagstaff surmounting the most imposing of the group, which was undoubtedly Government House. But why had the flag only just now been hoisted? Had the fact any significance, or was it merely due to the neglect or forgetfulness of some subordinate official? For it was now close upon ten o’clock, and if the flag was hoisted daily, as of course it should be over a Government building, it ought to have been hoisted nearly two hours ago. And if the Spaniards had grown into the lazy habit of not hoisting it every day, why had they taken the trouble to do so on this particular morning? Was it done to indicate the defiance of George’s threat?—for the latter had no doubt that his letter had by this time reached Don Silvio’s hands.
He considered the matter for a few moments, and presently came to the conclusion that if the hoisting of the flag was intended to convey Don Silvio’s defiance, it could do no harm to reply to it by shifting his berth to a spot more convenient than the present one for the purpose of a bombardment; he had very little doubt that the significance of the movement would be fully understood not only by Don Silvio, but also by the townsfolk generally; and he held the belief that in dealing with an antagonist it is always well to make it clear to him at the outset that you are in deadly earnest and mean every word you say. He had known cases where quarrels had assumed a most serious and irreconcilable form simply because each party had believed the other to be pretending to be more in earnest than he really was. Therefore, since the men were now doing nothing particular and it would be an advantage to them to acquire a working knowledge of their new ship as early as possible, George issued an order for the canvas to be loosed and the cable to be hove short preparatory to getting the galleon under way.
This was done with very commendable celerity by the men, considering that they were quite new to the ship; and in about twenty minutes the great hempen cable was “up and down,” and the sail-trimmers were sent to the sheets and halliards to sheet home and hoist away. Five minutes later the anchor was out of the ground and the Cristobal Colon was adrift and canting.
It was at this moment that Basset, the captain of soldiers, who had in turn been amusing himself with George’s glass, shouted:
“Do ’e see that. Captain? Thicky galley that we passed in harbour last night, her be comin’ out. Do ’e think she’m comin’ to attack we?”
“Maybe,” answered George. “I can’t tell. But whether she be or not, we must be ready for her. For she must not be allowed to escape. If she is not sent to attack us, she must be going in search of assistance; and we must not allow her to slip past us if we can possibly help it. Let me have that glass, if you please, and, Mr Basset, get your men under arms forthwith.”
Basset handed over the glass and ran down the poop ladder, shouting as he went for the soldiers to don their armour, take their weapons, and proceed to their several fighting stations. Meanwhile George took the glass and carefully inspected the galley. She was coming out under the impulse of her oars alone, which looked very much as though she had been dispatched to re-take the galleon, since the wind was fair for her out of the Gulf, and she would at once set her sail if she were bound upon a long voyage. He saw that her forecastle was crowded with soldiers, and that on that same forecastle she carried a culverin round which were grouped the gun’s crew, while behind it stood the gunner with linstock in hand. Then, looking beyond these, he descried upon the vessel’s poop other soldiers, in the midst of which stood a group of some ten or twelve officers in complete armour, with their drawn swords in their hands. The galley was steering as though to intercept the galleon, which had by this time gathered way and was moving somewhat ponderously through the water.
“She means to attack us,” muttered George to himself as he lowered his glass from his eye. Then he flung a quick glance round his own decks, and saw that every eye was anxiously fixed upon him, awaiting his next order. He turned to the helmsman.
“Keep her away a point and get good way upon her,” he ordered. “I may want to tack presently, and it will not do for us to miss stays, with that galley watching for a chance to dash in upon us.”
Then he faced about to his crew and shouted for the gunner. “Mr Barker,” he said, “I am of opinion that yonder galley intends to attack us. But if she does not, we must attack and take her. I do not want her sunk, if it can be helped, for some of those for whom we are seeking may be aboard her; therefore our endeavour must be to sweep her decks clear of soldiers; and in order to do that I will have every piece of ordnance, both great and small, loaded with bullets, bags of nails, and any langrage that you can most readily lay hands upon. See to it at once, for in less than ten minutes she will be alongside. Sail-trimmers, to your stations! And archers, be ready to pour in a flight of arrows at short range.”
The galley, with the flag of Spain fluttering at her ensign staff, and a banner, bearing some emblazonment which George could not very well distinguish, streaming from her masthead, suddenly ceased pulling, the slaves resting upon their oars and raising the dripping blades high above the water; and a few seconds later a puff of white smoke burst from her bows, the report of her culverin boomed across the water, and the shot flew whirring athwart the galleon’s bows, striking the water some twenty yards to leeward. Then, as George brought his glass to bear upon her, her oars once more dipped, while the gun’s crew could be seen upon the forecastle busily engaged in reloading their piece.
Saint Leger heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God!” he murmured. “That shot clears up the last shred of doubt as to her intentions; and now we know where we are, and what we have to do.”
The chaplain appeared at his elbow and touched him lightly on the arm.
“She’s going to fight us, isn’t she, Cap’n?” he said. “Is it your pleasure that the crew go to prayers?”
“To prayers?” reiterated George. “With that galley within a quarter of a mile of us? There is no time for that, now, Sir Thomas. We shall be engaged within the next two minutes, therefore you must e’en go to prayers on behalf of all hands, while we do the fighting.”
“I’ll do both,” retorted the chaplain; “I’ll pray first and fight a’terwards!” And therewith he removed his cap, sank down upon his knees—those of the crew who happened to see him also uncovering—murmured a few words, and then, rising to his feet, calmly seized a long bow and a quiverful of arrows, drew a shaft from the quiver, fitted it to the string, and prepared to do his part manfully in the impending fight.
Meanwhile those in the galley seemed somewhat undecided as to what to do. Like the rest of her class she was fitted at the bow with a powerful beak or ram, just level with the surface of the water, the office of which was to pierce an enemy’s ship about the water-line and so cause such a serious leak as to effectually distract the attention of the defenders. But in the present case there appeared to be some hesitation with regard to the adoption of this mode of attack, and George soon came to the conclusion that the galleon’s cargo—the nature of which he had not yet found time to investigate—must be so enormously rich that the Spaniards were unwilling to risk its loss by ramming her. Certainly they did not at the moment appear to contemplate such a manoeuvre, for instead of pulling with all their strength, in order to get good way upon the galley, so that she might strike an effective blow, the slaves were doing little more than just give her steerage way. And seeing this, George suddenly determined upon a bold step. To cross a galley’s bows was, under ordinary circumstances, simply to invite disaster, but noting the apparent hesitation of the galley’s captain, Saint Leger determined to risk it in the present case; therefore, first signing to the helmsman to keep the ship away a trifle more, he turned to his crew and shouted: “Gunners, depress the muzzles of your pieces sufficiently to sweep yonder galley’s deck, and fire just so soon as you can be sure to hit her. I am going to risk crossing her bows. Archers, stand ready to discharge your shafts. And let the waits play up ‘Ye gallant sons of Devon.’ If so be that there are any English among the galley-slaves, ’twill hearten the poor souls up a bit to know that some of their own countrymen be close at hand.”
And therewith the waits—some half a dozen instrumentalists—launched forth with an air that was at that time as familiar to every Devon man as his own name, though it is nearly if not quite forgotten now. Ten seconds later, every man on the galleon’s decks, from George downward, was shouting the fine old song at the top of his voice, the melody going far out over the water and causing the haughty Dons on the galley’s poop to stare in amazement.
Almost at the same instant the galley’s culverin spoke again. This time the piece was aimed to hit, and it did so, piercing the galleon’s larboard poop bulwark and passing so close to George’s head that he distinctly felt the wind of it, while a big splinter from the bulwark not only knocked off his steel headpiece, but also scored his scalp so shrewdly that in a moment he was almost blinded by the blood that streamed down into his eyes. The force of the blow caused him to stagger for a moment, and three or four men stationed at the smaller ordnance on the poop rushed toward him, fearing that he was badly hurt. But with a smile he ordered them back to their stations as he wiped the blood out of his eyes with his kerchief, and the next instant a loud twanging of bowstrings told that the archers had got to work. A final glance at the galley showed George that her oarsmen were still pulling slow and that there was ample room for the galleon to cross her bows; he therefore signed to the helmsman and the great ship went surging past, while her ordnance, great and small, belched forth a perfect tornado of bullets, nails, jagged fragments of iron and what not upon the deck of the devoted craft. When the smoke cleared away it was seen that the oars were drooping motionless in the water, and that of all that great crowd who a moment earlier stood upon her deck, scarcely a paltry dozen still remained upright. That terrific storm of missiles had most effectually done its work.
On the after deck but one solitary officer, clad in a complete suit of splendid armour, and with the hilt of his broken sword in his hand, stood among a heap of slain, and, seeing him, George sprang up on the rail of the galleon and hailed him:
“Do you surrender, señor, a buena guerra?” he demanded.
“What else can I do, señor, seeing that you have slain the whole of my crew with your infernal broadside?” he demanded. “Yes, señor,” he continued, “I surrender the ship, but I am disgraced for ever, and I will not increase my humiliation by becoming your prisoner.”
And therewith he calmly walked to the side of the galley and deliberately sprang overboard, sinking instantly, of course.
