William Shakespeare as He Lived: An Historical Tale

by Henry Curling

During this terrible encounter, even whilst mounting the side of the Spanish vessel, the two men we have first described caught sight of, and recognised each other. In the face of him who sprang from a small craft called the Falcon, one of the sometime players of the Globe recognized Walter Arderne; and in that countenance beside him, although now with smoke and powder disguised "as if besmeared in hell," Arderne has for an instant recognised the features of one known in fair Warwickshire in happier days. They see, they recognized each other, but their thoughts are as the red flash of the artillery around them, and the next moment they are in the midst of blows and death. A contest of this sort, so fought and followed, is seldom of long duration. One side or other must generally be overborne; and, accordingly, the entire crew of the Spanish galleon were either driven to the poop of their vessel, or dead upon her decks. So numerous, however, were the Spaniards, that even in this desperate extremity they were formidable; and still the contest raged.

In the midst of the melée, the player who we have before seen amongst the first to board the Spaniard, is now fighting hand-to-hand with the Spanish captain.

Hard pressed, (for the rapier of the Englishman bears the invincible Don almost to the planks of his vessel,) the latter turns and flies below. Entering his cabin, he snatches up a pistol, and attempts to fire it into a huge barrel of gunpowder, and so blow up his vessel. Like lightning the Englishman strikes the pistol from his grasp, and calls upon him to yield.

The Spaniard, however, renews the contest like a tiger at bay. Rushing upon his foe, for the moment he bears him backward; he then as suddenly turns towards a youth who, crouched in one corner of the cabin, seemed terrified, and unable to protect himself. Him the Spaniard now rushes upon, and attempts to pierce with his rapier; but the Englishman again anticipates him, strikes the weapon aside, and pierces the invincible Don to the heart at the very moment the vessel is captured; and one loud English cheer fills the air. Curiosity and humanity leads the victor to approach the boy whom he had so opportunely saved. He drags from before him the body of the Spanish captain, bids the lad look up and fear nothing; but, overcome with the terrors of the situation, the lad had fainted. At this moment the cabin is filled with the excited captors—they are maddened with rage and blood, and ready to strike down all before them. Anxious for the poor boy, the gallant player lifts him up, throws him across his shoulder, and carries him upon deck, never leaving him till he has placed him in safety in his own vessel.

Amidst the turmoil, confusion, and horror of such a scene, (for, of all battles, perhaps a sea-fight presents the most savage and desperate picture of warfare,) the "poor player," who had thus rescued the youth from death, and borne him to a place of comparative safety, had but small leisure to pay attention to him.

Nevertheless, as he placed him in the cabin of the English vessel, he could scarcely fail to observe his extreme beauty; and as the lad came to himself, and thanked his preserver, the player found, by his accent, that the lad was English born.

Commending him, therefore, hastily to the care of some of the sailors at hand, (as his ear again caught the wild huzza of the victors,) the player again sprang upon the deck of his own ship, and the next moment was once more amidst the scene of death and slaughter—enveloped in smoke and fire—deafened with the roar of guns, and in the midst of crashing timbers and falling spars.

The Spanish galleon had been captured ere he again reached her decks; but still on went those English red-handed from slaughter to slaughter, "with ladies' faces, and fierce dragon's spleens," they assailed ship after ship of the squadron they had become entangled with, and night only arrested the terrible encounter.

Awful indeed is the destructive power of man, when once his rage is let loose upon his fellow. Those stately Spanish vessels, covered with gilding and ornament, and which had come heaving upon the wave, stately in movement, and beautiful in appearance as a bevy of swans, were now dismantled wrecks, blackened, half burnt, and, as if tortured into madness by their swift enemies, they vomited forth their fire at random, their shot flying over the heads of their adversaries, and hurting each other in the confusion of the scene.

In other parts of the engagement the English had been equally industrious; and had it not been for the gross mismanagement of those in authority, and through whose parsimony the ships ran short of ammunition, the success would have been instantly followed up; as it was, the parsimony of the Queen might have cost her her crown, for thrice were the English baulked in the midst of success for want of ammunition, and obliged to take advantage of wind to get out of fire, and as often did they return, like avengers, to smite and destroy.