Part 28 (1/2)

Yet so long as there was a handful of powder to be found it was carefully employed. Not only had the ammunition run short, but all the pikes were broken in hand-to-hand fight, and of Grenville's men that had gone into action forty lay dead, and the most part of the rest severely wounded. The s.h.i.+p herself was almost a wreck, her tackle all cut asunder, her upper works altogether rased. During the fifteen hours, from three o'clock in the afternoon, when the battle had begun, until daybreak on the next morning, she had been closely a.s.sailed by fifteen several galleons, in addition to those that had fired upon her from a distance.

Just before dawn, Edward Webbe and the few remaining gunners who had been at work between decks appeared above the hatchway. They had used up the powder to the last grain, and there was no more fighting to be done. Webbe was as black as a coalman, his clothing was torn to tatters, and he was covered with wounds. He went up to Captain Robinson and told him the condition of the s.h.i.+p. The captain then held colloquy with the sailing-master, and both approached Sir Richard Grenville.

”Our powder hath been spent, even to the last corn,” said the captain.

”We have six feet of water in the hold,” added the sailing-master, ”and three great shot-holes below the water-line which are so weakly plugged that with the first working of the sea we must needs sink.”

Sir Richard Grenville took a turn to and fro, meditating. Then he looked at the master-gunner, whom he knew to be a most resolute man, and said in a tone of command:

”Blow up the s.h.i.+p, then! Blow her up! Split her and sink her, that naught may remain of glory or victory to our enemies. As for ourselves, let us yield ourselves unto G.o.d, and to the mercy of none else!”

”Nay,” returned the master. ”Have we not told ye that there is no gunpowder on board wherewith to fire a gun, much less to blow up the s.h.i.+p?”

”Why, then,” cried Grenville, ”split her up with your hatchets, pull out the plugs from the shot-holes. But sink her, sink her how you will. For while we have, like valiant men, repulsed so many of our enemies, it were folly now to shorten the honour of our nation by prolonging our lives for a few hours or a few days. So let sink her, I say. Sink her, in G.o.d's name.”

To this Edward Webbe and divers others who were with him readily a.s.sented. But Captain Robinson and Pennington were of another opinion, and they besought Sir Richard to have care of them, declaring that the Spaniards would doubtless be as ready to accept a composition as they themselves were ready to offer the same. ”There be many able and valiant men in our company yet living,” said the captain, ”whose wounds are not mortal, and who may yet do their country and Queen acceptable service hereafter.”

But Sir Richard refused to hearken to this pleading, and he moved away and stood for a while looking over the sea that was now clearer under the approaching light of dawn. And beyond the galleons he caught sight of Jacob Whiddon's s.h.i.+p, the _Pilgrim_, bearing away to the leeward with two great galleons in pursuit of her.

Meanwhile, Captain Robinson held speech with his fellows and won many of them to his side, and he besought Ambrose Pennington to leave the s.h.i.+p and go on board the _St. Paul_ and parley with Don Alonzo de Ba.s.san for conditions. So Pennington and Jacob Hartop and some three others, all of them sorely wounded and looking strangely ill-conditioned, went down into an empty boat that was alongside, and holding up a white flag in their bow they crossed the intervening s.p.a.ce of sea to the admiral.

They found Don Alonzo in no great haste to make another entry upon the _Revenge_, for his men had had enough of her, and even still feared her.

Pennington told him that Sir Richard Grenville had a mind to blow up his s.h.i.+p with himself and all his s.h.i.+p's company.

”And wherefore should he resort to a measure so extreme?” questioned Don Alonzo. ”Since his disposition is so dangerous, return to him, I beg you, and let him know that I am willing to put an end to this battle, and that I have already lost more men and more s.h.i.+ps than I had ever thought to lose at the hands of one small English man-of-war. Bid him understand that I yield to him his life, and that the lives of all his s.h.i.+p's company shall be spared and sent home to England. For the better sort, such reasonable ransom shall be paid as their estates may bear.

But I do aver, and swear by the Holy Mother, that all of you shall be free from the galleys and from imprisonment. I care not to expose myself and my fleet to further loss and mischief. Also, 'tis my great desire to rescue your Sir Richard Grenville, whom for his most notable valour I do greatly honour and admire.”

With this answer Pennington returned to the _Revenge_, and since safety of life was promised, the larger number of the men, feeling themselves to be now at the end of their peril, stood up against Sir Richard and Edward Webbe, and declared their willingness to surrender.

”What!” cried Edward Webbe with bitter scorn and contempt in his voice.

”Do you ask me to surrender to a Spaniard? Me who have borne so much of horror and torture and cruelty at their hands, and at the hands of their accursed Inquisition? G.o.d forbid! No, I will not surrender. Rather would I die now at this moment where I stand!”

And thus saying he whipped out his sword, and resting its hilt upon the deck, held its point towards his body with intent to throw himself upon it. But the captain arrested him in the act, kicking the sword away.

Webbe struggled to regain his weapon, and, failing, was about to rush to the s.h.i.+p's side and fling himself into the sea, when Ambrose Pennington and another caught him and carried him down to his cabin and there locked him in, making sure that he had no weapon within reach.

Sir Richard Grenville stood alone, not attempting to dissuade his men from their resolve, and presently in the silence Jacob Hartop spoke.

”Ned was right,” said he, stepping to Sir Richard's side. ”An English s.h.i.+p, even though she be a poor battered hulk, were ever a better home than a galleon of Spain.” He glanced aft to the flag-staff upon which a tattered remnant of the honoured flag still fluttered in the morning air, and baring his head he added: ”G.o.d bless Queen Elizabeth!”

Gilbert Oglander and Timothy Trollops had taken no part in this little scene. They were at the time both below in the c.o.c.kpit attending to their wounds and giving what small help was in their power to their sick and dying companions. Here, too, was Roland Grenville. But in good time the death-like silence of the abated battle brought the three up on deck. As they came to the stair-head they glanced upon the water, which rippled and glanced in the morning light; for there were now no intervening bulwarks to s.h.i.+eld it from their sight. And they saw some six gaily-furnished boats approaching. The boats were brought alongside, and the boys at their bows threw up coils of rope as they touched, which, falling upon the blood-stained deck, were taken by certain of Sir Richard's men and secured to such balks of timber as could be found.

Then one by one the men stole away into the boats and were taken aboard Don Alonzo's s.h.i.+p and others of the galleons.

Sir Richard Grenville, thus overmatched, agreed after much persuasion to leave the _Revenge_, which was indeed an unsavoury resting-place for any man, her decks being covered with blood and strewn with the bodies of dead and wounded men, as if it had been a slaughter-house.

”Well, an you will, let it be so,” said Sir Richard as he turned to descend into the boat that the Spanish admiral had sent for him. ”He may do with my body what he listeth, for I esteem it not.” And grasping the hand of Gilbert Oglander, who was helping him, he added, ”Pray for me, Gilbert, my lad. And bid the others of our company pray for me also.”

Then he swooned, reviving only when he was laid upon a couch in the cabin of one of the Spanish officers on board the _St Paul_.