The Grove of Eagles
“I had heard nothing of this! We were going in by sea! It cannot be sense to make a frontal attack with troops on a well defended shore … By the living God, I’ll wager they have fallen out between themselves, Essex and the Howards, and some question of prestige is involved!”
“It would not be surprising,” Carew muttered.
“No, it would not be surprising. But if we can intervene we may yet stop this bloody sacrifice—”
“Intervene? Nonsense! It’s too late. No one will listen. Essex is the best of them, and he’s stubborn as a mule—”
“Well, the mule must be moved! I’ll go at once, and you shall come with me … Look! Look there! What did I tell you!”
One of the boats leaving the protection of Due Repulse and crowded with men had been hit by the rising swell and had capsized. Many of the men in it, weighted down as they were with armour, sank like stones. Others clung desperately to the upturned keel or floundered for a moment or two before disappearing for ever. A dozen or more swam to the next boat and clambered aboard it. That, pulled violently down and swung off its course by the swimmers, turned broadside on to the waves and likewise capsized.
But Ralegh was already gone. I was after him to the side, but Victor and Sir George were before me and the boat was pushed off before I could argue. So I did not see what followed and only heard it from Victor after.
“He went aboard Due Repulse and bearded Essex in front of all his officers. Walter can truly look like the devil when he chooses. He demanded to know what change of plan this was which had come of a sudden while he was away and how it could be justified since its nature jeopardised the success of the expedition. Essex replied angrily that it was all the fault of the Lord Admiral, who insisted that the town must be taken before he risked his ships in the narrow waters of the harbour. Walter said Drake had disproved such timidity. Essex said, ah, yes, but Drake was dead and none like him commanded here. Thereupon they continued arguing but in a gradually more friendly frame, and while they argued Essex sent word that the landings might be stayed.
“Then Walter stormed out and went to see the Lord Admiral. I was not with him there but remained in the boat. In forty minutes he was out and we were rowing back to Due Repulse. Somehow—I know not how—by violence of manner, by force of character, by cogency of argument, he has got his way. We are going in by sea, as first arranged.”
“But we have not yet gone in.”
“No; we’ve missed the tide, and next will see us in only an hour before nightfall. Walter himself advised against a night attack.”
“So we force the harbour tomorrow at dawn?”
“At dawn.”
“In what order?”
“I have forgotten. All I know is that we lead.”
I slept fitfully. During the night there was cannon fire from time to time between the Spanish galleons in the mouth of the harbour and the leading English ships, notably Mary Rose which under Carew’s urging had edged nearest to them and to the shore batteries. All night there was a subtle movement and manoeuvring of the English ships, like men jostling at the start of a race, each captain trying to gain the best position for the assault on the morrow.
I woke a dozen times staring at the stars and waiting for them to wane. At last a faint blueing of the sky was enough and I was up and had buckled on my breastplate before Victor woke. We only just reached the deck as Warspite weighed anchor. It was done slyly, in silence, without fanfare or command; we slipped away as if to some lover’s tryst. But the silent ships around us had been silently watching; they were not to be left that way and we were by only some three minutes the first to slip off. The sails of Carew’s Mary Rose came rattling down, and as he moved close after us he was followed by Robert Southwell in Lion, he by Clifford in Dreadnought, then Crosse in Swiftsure and Lord Thomas Howard in Nonpareil.
During the night the Spanish fleet, which first had been drawn up opposite Fort St Philip—which fort formed the north-easterly bastion of the town of Cadiz—had withdrawn a mile or more and were still withdrawing. Soon they would reach the narrow mouth of the inner harbour. Behind them the rich treasure fleet was retiring towards the Port Royal pool, beyond which there was no further retreat.
To reach the Spanish galleons therefore the English ships had first to run the gauntlet of shore fire from Fort St Philip and Cadiz. As the sun came up the wind almost dropped, so that even with all sail set we only drifted gently forward with the tide.
The first ship to draw a concentrated fire upon herself was not ours but a smaller one, Rainbow, under Sir Francis Vere, who, aware no doubt of his shallower draught, was making along in the shoal waters nearer the shore in an attempt to be first in action. At this Sir Walter bit at his gloves in anger and curtly demanded of Captain Oakes if he had no studsails he could set, else we should be leading the attack from behind.
It was clear now that the Spanish were going to stand and fight at the narrowest point of the harbour entrance, between Puntal and Matagorda. Here the water was in apparent width perhaps six or seven cable lengths, but the fair channel was very narrow and almost spanned by the length of four ships. Here the four great galleons, San Andrea, San Felipe, San Tomaso and San Mateo, were coming head to stern athwart our passage. Behind were the two big Portuguese galleons and the three powerful Italian armed merchantmen; and in their rear a cluster of smaller ships. Three frigates were taking up their station to our left, while a cluster of galleys lurking under the shelter of Fort St Philip were also retreating, firing at Rainbow and keeping pace with her.
Sir Walter need not have gnawed his glove. Rainbow had her sails shot to ribbons, and as soon as the majestic Warspite came within likely range the galleys and the shore batteries concentrated on us instead. This pleased Ralegh greatly. He stood on the high poop in his purple cloak, staring across at the shore and presently called buglers to him. The shore fire was just falling short of us, the shot sending up spouts of water twenty to thirty yards away.
“We must not waste our powder, so let us use breath instead. Blow us a fanfare each time they fire.”
So the four buglers stood on the poop in line beside him, and each time the shore batteries fired they blew a blast. The sailors and gunners, who had not liked our refusal to answer back, were heartened by this and their cheers followed the bugle notes. Even so, they still winced and ducked when the shore cannon fired, for any moment we might drift within range.
Meantime three galleys, more mobile with their shallow draught and spidery oars, had crept out of the shelter of the shore and trained their sakers on us. At the first blast a shot tore the rigging above our heads; a dozen thumped into the iron-hard oak of the ship’s side; one landed between two of our largest cannon, missing their crews: and skidding the eighteen paces into the sea at the other side.
“We must look to these wasps,” Sir Walter said. “ Give them a benediction, Mr Johns.”
At once the gunners were busy, loading their cannon, priming them, waiting the order to fire. It came, and the ship shuddered and veered; the rattling explosions hurt one’s ears.
The shots straddled one of the galleys. Their return fire was less accurate, though splinters flew from our fore-yard. We fired again, and one of the heavy 32 lb. balls from a demi-cannon hit the central galley amidships. A half-dozen oars speared upwards like splinters. The galleys turned away.
Amid the cheers and shouts from our men I heard Captain Oakes shout: “In five minutes we’ll be in range of the San Felipe, sir. We draw more water than she does. I’m not sure of the shoal here.”
“Hold on your course. It was she who first boarded the Revenge.”
“Have we leave to board her?”
“No, by God, no, that irks me. Explicit command not to hazard a Queen’s ship. Boarding’s for the fly-boats. But we have shot.”
Over to our right Essex’s ship, Due Repulse, having gone to the succour of Rainbow, had now overrun her and was in furious conflict with the shore batteries. The ships behind
us were no longer in line but had spread out so that at the moment of conflict Warspite was like the point of a spear, Nonpareil and Lion on our starboard quarter and Mary Rose and Dreadnought on our left.
San Felipe fired. Flames and smoke belched from her decks as twenty guns exploded in succession across the narrowing strip of water. A half-dozen of the culverin shot hit us above the waterline, the bigger shot fell short. We were now about 500 yards away.
“We’re in danger of taking the ground, sir!” shouted Oakes. “Best anchor and wait for the flood.”
“If we run aground the flood will float us. We must use our major armament.”
A half-dozen balls aimed high and at random flew over our heads. Some desultory fire was also coming from the frigates, and Mary Rose engaged them.
“If we take the ground, sir, we’ll lose our place and fall out of the fight!”
“By the living God we must make another cable’s length! They’re higher built than we are—why should we draw more water?”
Our bow chasers went into action. Another discharge from San Felipe: this time more than half the shots struck us.
“Very good,” said Ralegh. “Anchor now if you must.”
Captain Oakes at once bellowed orders, the men on the yards began hauling up the sails, chains rattled. The other battleships were not slow to follow our example; they seemed in no way more anxious than ourselves to risk a murderous small arms fire without the ultimate sanction of a boarding to follow.
An artist in imagination and perception of danger, Ralegh could yet steel his nerves to accept and even welcome peril: the very drama of the battle seemed to appeal to him. While men fired guns and worked furiously loading and fusing them and while sailors ran ducking for cover about the decks, he stood on the high poop with Captain Oakes—who would gladly have moved, I could see—watching the course of the fight. Sometimes he would turn away from the belching guns of San Felipe and scan the sea and landscape to make sure that no other English ship would steal a march on him by slipping along in the shoal water nearer shore.
Warspite was suffering. Her main yard had been splintered and two of her guns were out of action. There had also been heavy damage to the captain’s cabin and the poop windows. We could not see what we had done in return, for the whole of the super-structure of the San Felipe was fringed with drifting white smoke from the cannon fire. Amidships our guns had scored many hits and some of their main armament had stopped firing.
The channel was here so narrow that Warspite remained the spearhead of the attack on the big galleons while our four-battleship escort clustered closely on our larboard and starboard quarters, exchanging fire with the other galleons and themselves being raked by the lighter fire of the enemy frigates and eight galleys. All the English ships suffered in some degree by being almost bows on to the enemy and not able to deploy all their heavy guns as the Spaniards were doing.
No English fly-boats laden with soldiers were yet to be seen; but a new situation was developing away to our right. The remaining galleys under Puntal had stood and fought Rainbow and Due Repulse for best part of an hour; but the arrival of Vanguard with a half-dozen ships of London had overborne them and the last of the galleys broke and fled for the protection of the Apostle galleons. Now Rainbow and Due Repulse, with some eddying shore current of air to help, were following them and coming into the area of the main battle. Rainbow, still well inshore, was clearly intent on outflanking the Apostles and thus taking over the leadership of the attack: Due Repulse was heading straight for us.
“So!” said Ralegh. “ This is not to be borne! We’ll see what Essex has to say.”
He spoke to me, and I went with him gladly. Movement now helped to keep thought in check, to relieve tightened muscles, sweat on hands, the griping of fear.
Sir Walter went quickly down the rope ladder to his hoy, his cloak billowing like an opening flower. Four men sat waiting to row. As I joined him a heavy ball struck the sea and drenched us with water.
Due Repulse looked enormous as we neared her. Fortunately the wind had left her sails and she was only drifting forward under her own momentum; Sir Walter clutched a dangling ladder as we went past and climbed rapidly up it. I was too late for the ladder but caught a rope which bruised me against the side of the ship.
When I got on deck hot words had already been exchanged: Essex had taken my master to task for anchoring at a distance from the enemy; Ralegh was saying in a biting voice: “I am a soldier, my lord, and do not like these long bowls any better than you; but since I’m debarred from boarding I’d more consideration for my men than to subject them to an endless small arms fire at close quarters while we wait for the fly-boats. Where are the fly-boats? My Lord Admiral was lavish with his promises.”
The Earl of Essex was in white satin under his armour. “The boarding parties were promised when the main guns were silenced. As yet they’re not silenced.”
“They will be; but not before Warspite is holed and sunk, as things go now. I ask your Lordship’s leave to board if the fly-boats are not here within twenty minutes. Better to lose a Queen’s ship that way than the other.”
Essex stared through the forest of rigging towards the combat he was approaching. “I cannot give you leave, Sir Walter, but I’ll not stop you. Indeed, I’m tempted to join you when the time comes.”
Ralegh laughed. There was no mirth in it but a sudden release of tension. “ In that I’d be greatly honoured. Give me leave to return to the fight.”
“We shall be there as soon as you.”
We clambered down the ladder again, while the guns of the Due Repulse opened fire at one of the frigates. In our tiny hoy we danced away from the side of the battleship and four strong oars took us ahead of her and back to Warspite. In the interval of our being away a cannon ball had struck the high poop where we had been standing and had taken the leg off the sailor who had been there to relay the captain’s orders to the helmsman. Also Lord Thomas Howard, seeing Sir Walter absent, had ordered Nonpareil to weigh anchor and had edged ahead of Warspite into the position of honour.
Before Sir Walter, feverish with anger at this, could rail at Oakes for his negligence, Due Repulse came sliding into the line, swinging her stern with the tide. She narrowly missed Mary Rose, who was in combat with San Andrea, but could not right herself in time and crashed into the larboard quarter of Dreadnought. This broke the line and for ten minutes neither of the great ships concerned was able to concentrate its fire on the enemy.
Rainbow, with Sir Francis Vere, was now coming swiftly up from the right. Sir Walter ordered Oakes to weigh anchor and at all costs to get ahead of Nonpareil. We began to drift nearer the enemy.
As we did so a heavy cannon ball split our foremast just above the main yard, and the shrouds fell over the forward chasers putting them out of action.
Drifting with the tide, we came up with Nonpareil; then, to the wolfish satisfaction of my master, dropped anchor only by the bows so that we swung broadside on to the Spanish, facing them at close quarters and almost blocking the rest of our fleet from direct contact with the enemy. Rainbow had now come up alongside Nonpareil and thrown a rope aboard her to warp herself into position for the fight. A hail of shot swept across the deck of Warspite, killing men and disabling guns.
Sir Walter was looking back. Some small vessels, a part of the Dutch squadron were advancing, but not the fly-boats. Then Victor drew his cousin’s attention to the fact that Rainbow had thrown out another hawser, this time to Warspite and by means of it was stealthily hauling herself into the leading position.
Sir Walter shouted in his high angry voice: “Cut that line!” And it was cut, so that Rainbow fell away and drifted off.
It was we three who bore the brunt: Warspite, Nonpareil and Rainbow; all the others behind. The Queen’s flag was in ribbons; men lay about our decks groaning; half our guns were disabled, others fired through the fallen shrouds. Acrid smoke clouded out the sun.
San Felipe had suffered wors
e than we. Only two demi-cannon still fired; there were great holes in her sides and her upper decks had been swept clear of men.
“Loose that anchor!” Ralegh shouted. “ Get a warp aboard her!”
He climbed on the rail and waved his sword as a signal to Essex and Vere. A thin cheer sounded above the noise of the guns. Both the other vessels answered his signal and began to drift forward with Warspite to collide with the enemy.
A great rushing and thunder-clap of noise; Ralegh was no longer standing but was lying with his purple cloak spread-eagled like a broken flower; Victor was down too but was crawling to his knees.
I went to Sir Walter. He was conscious but there was blood welling down one leg.
“Lie still!” I shouted.
“Out of my way!” He tried to get to his feet.
“Let me see!”
“It will wait. Prepare to board!”
“You must stop the blood—”
“Damn you!” He was on his feet again. “ Out of my way! Prepare to board!”
The Spaniards, seeing our advance and having suffered much, were giving up the fight. San Felipe was the first to slip her cable, the others followed. Some sort of sail was let go on such masts as remained and the four great galleons began to drift into the port, while the Portuguese and the Levanters retreated behind them.
Then it was seen that Oakes’s concern for Warspite was not mistaken, for within two minutes San Felipe and San Mateo had both grounded. Then San Andrea in a desperate effort to avoid a similar fate, collided with San Tomaso, and they both took the ground. Firing at the guns ceased and sailors abandoned their posts; dead and wounded men were left lying on the decks; San Felipe had taken on a dangerous list towards us so that all that happened could be seen. Pieces of ordnance slid across the decks, and some out of their ports into the water; men fell with them and others jumped.
Ralegh was holding his leg trying to staunch the blood and at the same time shouting: “Boarding parties away! Boarding parties away!”
I snatched at the shirt of the dead sailor beside me and ripped it up; I went to Sir Walter and bound his leg above the knee where the wound was; he could barely suffer to be held; Nonpareil behind us was putting out small boats, some laden with soldiers, some to pick up the struggling men in the water.