With Drake on the Spanish Main

by Herbert Strang

Beneath the Walls

Tom Copstone leading, the party of three swiftly made their way through the woodland. Their mark was the south-western angle of the fort; that was the quarter, said Copstone, whence it might be most safely reconnoitred. The ground rose gradually as they proceeded, and after walking for what must have been several miles they came upon a large open space which had evidently been cleared by fire.

"'Tis the black cayman on the hill above the fort," whispered Turnpenny to Dennis. "You mind, sir?"

"Ay, the landmark of which you made mention."

Skirting the upper side of the clearing for a few hundred yards, being careful to remain slightly within the edge of the forest, they arrived at a spot where, while themselves concealed, they had an uninterrupted view of the country before them. There was a thin belt of woodland beyond the clearing, but the hill then dipped somewhat steeply, and through this dip they saw the fort which held so many bitter memories for the sailors, and the sea stretching out beneath it, a vast shimmering plain.

"'Tis bigger than I deemed likely," said Dennis, "the garrison being but fifty, if I remember right."

"True, sir," said Copstone, "there be but fifty Spaniards, but there be Indians and maroons within the walls as well, the slaves and pearl-fishers to wit. Aforetime, as I have heard tell, the fishers lived in huts around; but about six year ago a French vessel bore suddenly down upon the place. The Spaniards, some twenty or thirty then, had no warning, and the Frenchmen had an easy job to carry off all the treasure that the captain had stored up, and in the tumult a great part of the fishers made off and were never seen more. Thereafter the Governor of Cartagena gave command that the fort should be strengthened and the workers lodged within: you can see the huts ranged along inside by the wall."

"'Twas shutting the door after the steed was stolen," said Dennis, with a smile. "Now let me print the lines of the settlement upon my memory."

The fort was a rough square in shape, with a round tower at each corner. In the centre of the enclosure was a long low house, with a veranda, which Copstone explained was the Commandant's new house, but lately finished. Close by was a smaller house, occupied by the captain of the garrison, and beyond this a row of still smaller buildings, devoted to the Spanish troops. From their elevated position they could see that on the eastern side the fort was bounded by a stream which appeared to wash the wall; but Copstone said that between the wall and the stream was a level walk, about twelve feet wide, where the officers were accustomed to promenade in the cool of the evening. The one gate of the fort was cut in the eastern wall, and it led immediately to a narrow pier running into the river, where the vessels were loaded and unloaded. Between the pier and the mouth of the stream a small two-masted bark now lay at anchor; there was safe harbourage, and this vessel probably awaited its cargo of pearls to be conveyed to Cartagena, having brought provisions thence.

The northern wall, Copstone said, was built on a rocky cliff about thirty feet high, washed at high tide by the sea, which swept round the north-eastern angle, and formed, with a series of broken rocks and boulders, an effective defence to a great part of the western wall. The southern face of the fort was hidden from the spectators by the intervening trees, but between it and this belt of woodland was an open space some two hundred and fifty yards wide, cleared with the object of depriving possible assailants of cover. About a mile to the right was the scene of the pearl-fishing, and the fishers were at that moment to be seen at work, diving from canoes, in each of which, said Copstone, were two Spaniards fully armed.

"And where be our dear comrades, Torn?" asked Turnpenny. "In my time they were lodged in underground dungeons hewn out of the rock beneath the south-east tower yonder."

"And there they be still, poor souls," said Copstone. "Ah! many's the hour I've spent in the selfsame dungeons, groaning with the pain of the stripes made by their whips on my bare back."

"And 'twas thence 'ee fled, Tom? I marvel how 'ee broke out o' that strong-fast place."

"Nay, never a soul has broken out of they dungeons. It was in this wise with me. One day a fearsome storm blew up without a minute's warning. The harbour yonder, that is wont to be safe, was a seething whirlpool then, and a bark that lay beside the pier, laden with a treasure of pearls in readiness for the voyage, was dashed hither and thither by the fury of the waves until she was like to be battered into splinters. There was a cry for all hands to save her, and we were driven out of the gate to do what we could. The sky was black as pitch, though 'twas an hour or two from sunset; and in the midst of that coil, covered by the darkness, I dropped down over the embankment wall, clinging on with my hands, and so worked myself along till I came to the extremity of the walk, fearing every moment lest a wave should come and sweep me away. But by the mercy of God I came safe to the end of the walk, where the round tower juts out—you mind, Haymoss?—its foundations being struck into jagged rocks, with many a cleft in between. There I refuged myself till the night came, beat upon by the waves till the breath was well-nigh battered out of my body. But there, a drenched mortal, I clung until the tempest fell to a calm, and in the darkness I got me away to the woods."

"My heart! 'twas a deed of daring and peril," said Turnpenny. "But list! What be adoing down yonder?"

The silence below was suddenly broken by the ringing sound of picks. Men were apparently at work on the face of the fort nearest the observers. The labourers were out of sight, and Copstone confessed himself unable to guess what their task might be. The fort seemed complete; for a month before Copstone's escape the work had indeed been hurried on in response to urgent orders from Cartagena, where the Governor desired more men to assist in his own defences. His commands resulted in the prisoners being treated with increased brutality, and Copstone said that it was a stock joke with the Spanish garrison that by the time they had done with the captives at Porto Aguila there would be little work left in them.

For an hour or more the three men stood scanning the fort and its surroundings, until Dennis felt that every detail was firmly graven upon his mind. Then, as they had a long journey back to the boat, and it was desirable that they should reach their companions before the fall of night, they set off to return to the creek. Copstone knew it well; under his guidance the others took a short cut through the forest, that saved them, he said, more than a mile, and the short tropical twilight had only just begun when they arrived at the canoe. The maroons had not been disturbed during their absence. One of the Spaniards, who recognized the creek, had tried to persuade the natives to set them at liberty, promising them a rich reward. But they had no faith in him or any of his race, and their answer was to make his bonds more secure.

Knowing that they were several leagues from the fort, with a long wooded hill between them, the sailors agreed that it would be safe to kindle a fire on shore, beside which they might camp for the night without molestation by insects. But they had little sleep. The three sat long over the fire, Copstone relating incidents in his prison life that made the blood of his hearers boil with rage and indignation. With the good food given him from the stock they had brought, and the companionship of his countrymen, he had already become a very different being from the famished solitary creature they had met in the forest; and when, fired with passionate hatred of the Spanish oppressors and with pity for their hapless prisoners, Dennis and Turnpenny vowed that they would go through with their enterprise, no matter at what cost, Copstone declared himself heart and soul with them, and only longed for the moment of action to come.

But it was not enough to be full of zeal. The greatest courage and determination would not suffice alone to achieve their object.

"We are but ten against fifty," said Dennis, "and one of the ten a fat negro whom the sight of a bare blade would cause to shake like a jelly."

"Leave him out, sir," said Turnpenny. "He would squeal like a stuck pig if his finger were pinched."

"There are but nine of us, then, and what can nine do against fifty?"

"If all the nine were men of Devon like Tom Copstone and me," said Turnpenny, "we would face fifty don Spaniards and beat 'em too. But you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, as the saying is, and you can't turn a negro or maroon into a true fighting man that will never say die. Men of their sort cannot play a losing game, though they be full of courage if things go well with them."

"I fear me even nine men of Devon could not fight a pitched battle against five times their number, whether Spaniards or other. But 'tis not my purpose to approach the walls with a trumpet and deliver a defiance. Our only chance is by surprising the fort in the darkness, and so taking them at a disadvantage. How stands it then, Amos?"

"Why, sir, it stands clean topsy-versy, which is to say it is by no means possible. The walls, as you did yourself see, be too high to leap over, and the gate be shut and bolted and barricadoed by night."

"But is it watched?"

"That I know not. Do 'ee know, Tom?"

"Nay; afore dark all the prisoners be thrust into the dungeons, and kept fast in ward until morning light."

"And do they set a guard over the dungeons?"

"Not as I know, sir. What would be the good? The doors be strong and clamped with iron; the guard house be just above; and we was all so worn with toil and so sick at heart that nary one of us ever had the spirit to attempt a sally. When they had us fast in the dungeons, there they might leave us, with never a fear but we would be safe bound."

"Methinks that same security would forbid them to keep a watch seawards. The sea washes the north side of the fort, you said?"

"Ay, sir, and even at high tide there is no draught for a vessel of more than twenty tons burden, so they need fear no attack thence. True, they might keep a watch on the harbour when a vessel lies there; but 'tis years since any enemy has appeared, and with the dons 'tis out of sight, out of mind, I trow."

"Well, does not that favour us? Grant we cannot scale the walls, nor force the gate, we may still approach the fort from the sea by night, without risk of being discovered, and that is the very thing that we must do. This night is too far spent for us to make any attempt in that quarter. We must possess our souls in patience for yet another day, and truly that is not amiss, for it will give us leisure to spy once more upon the fort. Think you 'tis possible to come where we may view the north side?"

"There is but one way; to make a circuit as we lately did, and go further through the woods, and creep down at dusk to the rocks, when the work for the day is over and we are not like to be seen by the Spaniards who keep ward over the fishers."

"That is what we will do, then. And now, since we know not what the day may bring forth to try our strength, let us get what sleep we can, and so fortify ourselves."

But for many hours Dennis lay awake, thinking over the next day's doings. Up with the dawn, he set the maroons to cut from the trees a number of light tough poles, and these Copstone and Turnpenny, with seamen's skill, quickly fashioned into a rough but serviceable ladder. It was made to taper from bottom to top in three sections, the first seven feet long, the second five feet, and the last, four. The first and second were lashed together with some spare rope brought in the canoe, but the supply gave out when this was done, and Dennis was at a loss for material to fasten the second and third sections together. The headman of the maroons speedily made good the deficiency. Going into the forest, he soon returned with long pliable tendrils of a creeper called bejuca that grew plentifully among the undergrowth, and these, when cut into short lengths, formed lashings as strong as could be desired.

The greater part of the morning was spent in constructing and testing the ladder. After the midday meal Dennis and the sailors again made their way through the forest to their former place of espial, waited until they saw the canoes return with the pearl fishers, and then, in the late afternoon, crept down the hillside westward of the fort until they came to the rocks on the shore. From their new position they were able to glance along the northern wall of the fort. The tide was on the turn, and it was clear from the masses of seaweed and the waterworn appearance of the rocks on which the wall was built that at high water the base of the escarpment would be washed by the waves, as Copstone had said. Having formed a careful mental picture of the place, Dennis gave the word for return, and they reached their camping ground just before dark, as on the previous evening.

Arrangements were at once made for their expedition. Turnpenny estimated that the distance by water from the mouth of the creek to the fort was about ten miles. It was desirable to start early if the paddlers were not to be overtired when the serious work of the night began. Dennis was in some doubt what to do with the prisoners, but after consultation with the sailors he decided to leave them behind in the charge of the cook and one of the maroons. He deplored the necessity of thus diminishing his little party, but it was clearly impossible to trust the guardianship of the prisoners to Baltizar alone. That flabby and chicken-hearted negro was desperately afraid of being left. He feared the prisoners, although they were securely pinioned; still more he feared the wild beasts of the forest. Turnpenny "gave him a piece of his mind," as he said, and his language was none the less forcible because he eked out his scanty vocabulary of Spanish with racy expressions in his own vernacular. He called Baltizar a slack-twisted nollypate, a wambling dumbledore, an ell-and-a-half of moidered dough, mingling with his expletives an instruction to keep up the fire if he wished to scare the beasts away, and a warning that the Spaniards, if they were allowed to escape, would certainly kill him first. And to guard against the danger that the prisoners might work upon his fears and persuade him to loose their bonds, the maroon chosen to remain with him was told, in his hearing, that if he had any conversation with the two men he was instantly to be knocked on the head. Watching the negro's expression, Dennis felt pretty sure that he would prove a most zealous jailor.

The night was still young, the moon had not yet risen, when the canoe floated silently seawards down the creek. The little party of three white men and five maroons was not hilarious; every man knew that he had taken his life in his hands. But neither were they down-hearted, for seven of them had the recollection of a night adventure which had wonderfully succeeded against great odds; and though the odds this time were immeasurably in favour of the enemy, and the task was infinitely more difficult, the very magnitude of what they had set themselves to do fired them with eagerness and hope.

The sections of the ladder had been unlashed, and were safely bestowed, with the rope and the tendrils, in the sides of the canoe. In his ignorance of the coast, Dennis ordered the paddlers to put some distance out to sea before heading the canoe westward, so as to avoid any rocks or shoals that might lie in wait for the frail craft. The wind was north-east, and as there was only the faint illumination of the stars, the sail was run up during the first part of the voyage. But when they rounded the headland that lay between the creek and the fort, Turnpenny took in the sail, lest by some unlucky chance it should be observed from the shore, and bade the maroons paddle slowly, for they wished to arrive at the fort when the tide was high, a little before dawn.

Slowly as they paddled, however, the fort loomed up on the shore a good hour before they had intended to draw in. None of the party had any means of telling the time; but Turnpenny, experienced in reading the heavens on many a silent night on the deep, guessed it pretty accurately by the horn of the moon just peering above the horizon. To delay their arrival a little, Dennis ordered the men to rest on their oars, and for an hour the canoe rocked gently on the swelling tide. The pause would have been even longer had not Dennis perceived that the inaction bred a certain nervous restlessness in the maroons—an ill mood in which to face the coming ordeal.

At last, shortly after four in the morning, the nose of the canoe was turned towards the fort, and the vessel crept in dead silence towards the line of white foam that showed where the tide was lapping the wall. It was still half a musket-shot distant when its progress was arrested with a suddenness that threw the paddlers heavily forward. Recovering themselves, they backed water lustily, but without avail; the canoe was fast on a rock. Instantly three of the men slipped gently overboard to lighten the vessel, kicking their legs busily to ward off any ground sharks that might be adventuring in the neighbourhood. In a few moments the canoe slid off the rock, the men clambered back to their places, and the paddling was resumed. But it was soon discovered that the shock had torn a hole in the vessel's side; she was filling fast; and by the time she came beneath the wall of the fort she was wellnigh waterlogged. Not a man of the party ventured to speak a word; but from the glances they gave one another it was clear that they realized what the accident meant for them. Nothing but complete success could now save them, for if the attempt on the fort failed, it would certainly be impossible to escape on this leaking vessel, and they must fall an easy prey to their enemies.

One after another they quietly left the canoe, carrying the climbing apparatus, and their calivers and ammunition, which had fortunately lain on the raised stern of the vessel and had escaped a wetting. They found themselves on the rocks, in two or three feet of water. Turnpenny and Copstone gave their weapons into the charge of two of the maroons while they carefully lashed the two longer sections of the ladder together. Meanwhile Dennis was scanning the wall above him with the object of finding a suitable spot against which to plant the ladder. In spite of Copstone's belief that the fort was not sentinelled, Dennis had taken the precaution to land a little to the west of the tower at the angle, thinking that the sentry, if one were posted there, would probably be taking shelter under the eastern parapet. But so far as he could see in the dim light the line of the wall was unbroken.

At the top, however, a battlement slightly overhung it. To Dennis, gazing up, this battlement seemed terribly far off, and his heart sank as he felt that the ladder would certainly not be long enough. But it was possible that the apparent height was deceptive; at any rate the attempt must be made. Accordingly, Turnpenny and Copstone, as he had previously arranged with them, planted the ladder beneath the wall while he mounted. The first steps were easy, but when he came near the top he was seized with a momentary dizziness and had to pause before he ventured to take another upward step. He climbed very slowly: he was now close against the wall, with nothing to cling to, and he maintained his balance only by pressing forward until he was almost flat against the smooth surface. He reached the last rung; it was impossible to ascend another inch; and the top of the wall was still, it appeared, at least twelve feet above him. Even if the third section of the ladder was added, the coping would be still utterly beyond his reach.

It was a position in which many a bold fellow might have despaired, and, for a little, Dennis did feel dismay and a touch of compunction for having brought the men below into what appeared to be a hopeless case. But it is such moments as these that prove the grit of a man's character. Dennis was no weakling; and as he stood and leant against that wall, shrouded by the night, he set his teeth and vowed that by hook or crook he would ere long be upon the other side.

He looked up and around, to see if there were any notches or seams by means of which he could scale the wall. The moon was creeping round the sky, and now threw a little more light on the scene. Letting his eye travel slowly over every foot of the surface from left to right, he suddenly caught sight of what seemed to be a hole in the wall, some distance to his right, several feet above him, and a yard or so below the parapet. It flashed upon him that this must be a gun embrasure; was it possible, he wondered, to make his way in by that? Carefully descending the ladder, he told the sailors in a whisper what he proposed; they quickly lashed on the last section, and shifted the ladder until it stood immediately below the dark patch which at this distance the embrasure appeared to be. Then Dennis mounted again.

Once more he was disappointed. At the imminent risk of falling backwards he crept up to the highest point, but even then he found he could but just touch the lower edge of the hole. He had not sufficient grip on the smooth sill of it to pull himself up: he could not raise himself high enough to peep through. He wondered whether Copstone, who stood nearly a head taller, would have better success; but remembering the man's privations he thought it scarcely possible that he would have nerve enough to mount on this frail ladder, which bent dangerously beneath his weight now that the last section was added, without becoming dizzy and toppling down. Was there any conceivable manner in which the ladder could be still further lengthened?

Down he crept again and held another whispered consultation with the two men. At first neither was able to make a suggestion. They stood looking at one another in perplexity. Then suddenly Turnpenny, forgetting himself in his excitement, uttered an exclamation in a tone which sent a shiver down Dennis's back.

"Hush, man!" said Dennis in a warning whisper. "What is it?"

"Ah, I must talk gentle," said Turnpenny. "Of a sudden I thought of muscles and sinews, and the power of a strong back. Me and the headman of the maroons—not so strong as me, to be sure, but yet with mighty shoulders of his own—me and him betwixt us can raise the ladder aloft, and hold it firm while you mount, and then without doubt you'll be high enough to peep through the port-hole and see all that may be seen."

"Art sure you can do it, Amos?" asked Dennis, eagerly.

"Why, sir, look at this!" he returned, bending his arm until the muscle showed like a globe of iron.

Without more ado, Turnpenny and the maroon hoisted the ladder, and, one on either side of it, supported it with their shoulders. Then Dennis climbed on to Copstone's back, thence to the ladder, and began the ascent. The ladder was more tremulous than ever, and Dennis felt a flutter at the heart as he came nearer and nearer to the top. But the stalwarts below did not yield an inch, and Dennis crawled up and up until at length his head came to the level of the embrasure, and with one more step he found himself able to rest his arms in it. To his joy the embrasure was empty: the gun had evidently been withdrawn; and taking this as a good omen—surely it indicated great security on the part of the garrison!—he hoisted himself up and wriggled into the aperture. Then, breathless, with a hurrying pulse, he crouched to consider his next move.