Part 17 (1/2)
”Ay, surely; I'll bring thee a whole s.h.i.+p-load of such trumpery an Captain Grenville will but let me,” returned the old man.
”What!” interposed Ambrose Pennington, turning round on his chair. ”Art for going out with the fleet, then, friend Hartop?”
Hartop nodded.
”Ay,” he answered. ”A life on land hath but few joys for such as me, I find, and I am for having just one cruise more with the buccaneers and another sight of the palm-trees. And yet,” he added, ”'tis less of my own wish than by the will of Sir Richard Grenville that I go; for he hath besought me to accompany him, since 'tis supposed that I know more than most men touching the purpose of this present expedition.”
Pennington drew his chair nearer to the old man and sat facing him, bending forward in attention with his two hands clasped between his knees.
”'Tis nought to be marvelled at that Sir Richard should have such a wish,” said he, ”for it seemeth that you have some special knowledge of the matter. An it be no secret, Master Hartop, mayhap you'd enlighten us concerning this same cruise, for I, too, am to be aboard the _Revenge_, and 'tis but natural I should wish to know the purpose of our voyage.”
Hartop dusted the shavings of wood from his knees and continued with his work.
”'Tis no longer a secret,” he said, ”and, indeed, I had thought that Captain Whiddon had already informed you on the matter. Sir Walter Raleigh did in truth bid me keep my knowledge to myself. But that was some three months ago, and now that Her Majesty hath bidden my Lord Thomas Howard a.s.semble this squadron, and hath made no secret of our destination, I know no reason why I should scruple to break silence.”
”Nay, 'tis no longer a secret. Tell us the tale,” interposed Captain Whiddon. ”For all that I do myself know is the simple fact that we are to waylay and capture King Philip's treasure-s.h.i.+ps.”
”You must know,” began Hartop, ”that the late expedition which the Queen's s.h.i.+ps made to the Western Islands, under Frobisher and Hawkins, during the last summer past, was a failure. Their intention was even the same as ours. But King Philip, getting wind of their purpose, sent out to the Indies, giving orders that his s.h.i.+ps were to winter in the Havana, and delay their home-coming until this present summer. Now the result of that delay is, that instead of one year's harvest of silver and gold there is now fully double that quant.i.ty lying in the treasure-houses of Nombre de Dios waiting to be brought over to Spain.
'Tis the mightiest h.o.a.rd of wealth that ever was brought together since the world began, and I promise you it will give the Spaniards a hard enough task to transport so large a burden across the seas. Ay, even though every galleon of their armada were loaded up to the gunwales.”
”And prithee, Master Hartop, how many galleons do you reckon there will be engaged in that same task?” inquired Captain Whiddon.
”Well, as to that,” said Hartop, ”I scarce can tell. But this I know full surely, that even at the time when we started homeward in the _Pearl_, there were then lying at the Havana no fewer than fifty of King Philip's finest s.h.i.+ps. Many of them were of a thousand tons apiece, which, as I judge, is about double the size of Lord Thomas Howard's _Defiance_. Nay, fifty sails, do I say? There were more than that. Let me see! There were three-and-thirty galleons of Nova Hispania, and three-and-twenty of Terra Firma--that's fifty-six. Then there were twelve of San Domingo, and it may be nine of Honduras. How many might that be, all told, Master Jack?”
Jack Whiddon counted on his fingers and presently answered:
”Seventy and seven.”
”Body o' me!” exclaimed Ambrose Pennington. ”And do you say that so vast an armada as that is to be attacked and captured by these half-dozen wars.h.i.+ps that we now have lying in Sutton Pool?” He held his hand palm uppermost, as if to suggest that it could well embrace the dimensions of the whole of Admiral Howard's fleet. ”Why, 'tis madness to think on't!”
”So it might seem,” nodded Hartop. ”But 'tis as well to understand, Master Pennington, that we have certain very great advantages in our favour. To begin with, these Spaniards have been languis.h.i.+ng for many months in an evil climate; they will surely be reduced by disease, by famine, and I know not what other pestilential ills, while we shall meet them strong and fresh and hearty. Their galleons will be half rotten, bored by the teredo worm, overgrown with weeds and barnacles, and, moreover, very heavily laden; while our own s.h.i.+ps, on the other hand, are newly fitted out with good sails and riggings, strong clean hulls, good guns, and an abundance of ammunition. Also, you must bear in mind that while the Queen's s.h.i.+ps will doubtless keep together in one compact squadron, the Spaniards, by reason of the long voyage, and perhaps stress of weather, to say naught of the differing sailing powers of their s.h.i.+ps, will most certainly be separated one from the other, so that 'twill be an easy enough matter for our admiral to pick them off one by one.”
”There is good reason in your argument, to be sure.” declared Pennington; ”and if the matter turn out as you have set it down, I doubt not that we shall, one and all, return to England in a few weeks' time with riches enough to serve us and keep us in luxury to the end of our days.”
”Ay,” agreed Captain Whiddon, ”'tis like a fairy dream.”
”As for the _Revenge_,” added Pennington, with an encouraging glance at Jacob Hartop, ”she is a right gallant s.h.i.+p, and as pretty a one as you will find upon all the seas, notwithstanding the ill-luck that hath hitherto been her so frequent attendant.”
Jacob Hartop raised his grizzled eyebrows.
”Ill-luck?” he repeated. ”Why, methought she had been of all Her Majesty's s.h.i.+ps the most highly-favoured by fortune. Prithee, was it not upon her decks that Sir Francis Drake held command when he gave such a trouncing to the Duke of Medina-Sidonia three years ago?”
Ambrose Pennington nodded and smiled.
”No man doth know better than I how well she behaved on that same occasion,” said he. ”I was then but her master's mate, and of no great account on board. But I mind well every incident and movement in the engagement--how we met the Armada down by the Lizard in Cornwall, how we beat them and shuffled them together first to Portland, where they shamefully abandoned Don Pedro de Valdes with his mighty s.h.i.+p to be taken by the _Revenge_; how we chased them from Portland to Calais, where they lost Hugo de Moncada with the great gallea.s.s of which he was captain; then how we drove them with squibs and fires.h.i.+ps from their anchorage in Calais Roads, gave them a sound drubbing off the coast of Flanders, and anon chased them out of sight of England, round about Scotland and Ireland, where the storms of the northern seas speedily finished the destruction that we had begun. And I tell thee that there was no s.h.i.+p in all Queen Elizabeth's fleet that did greater service for our country than the _Revenge_. And yet, for all that, she must still be counted the unfortunatest s.h.i.+p her Queen's Majesty hath had during her reign--”
”Heaven grant that her misfortunes will have forsaken her during this present voyage!” interposed Hartop. ”For, although I set not a single groat's value upon my own poor life, yet I am well a.s.sured that every man and every s.h.i.+p of our company will be sorely needed ere we fulfil the work that is before us. But, prithee, wherein lieth the s.h.i.+p's ill-luck and misfortune?”
”In many particulars,” answered Pennington. ”As for example, on her very first voyage when coming back from Ireland, with Sir John Parrot in command, she was like to be cast away upon the sand-banks that are off the Kentish coast. After, in the voyage of Sir John Hawkins in 1586, she struck aground in coming into Plymouth harbour, before her going to sea.
Upon the coast of Spain she left her fleet, ready to sink with a great leak. At her return into Plymouth she beat herself upon the Winter Stone and stove in her bows. Twice did she run aground in going out of Portsmouth haven; and on the latter occasion lay two-and-twenty hours beating upon the sh.o.r.e. Once more she was driven upon the rocks outside of Plymouth here, and lay helpless and abandoned for six winter months.