Chapter 10 -How I Defended the Foretop

For full five minutes I lay motionless, listening to the zip of the bullets as the pirates kept up a hot fire on my perilous position. Then I raised myself and peered cautiously over the edge of the top.

The situation was a grave one, but I had a fighting chance. I was on a platform some ten feet square, but the lubber's holes reduced the standing room by nearly a quarter. The after side of the top was protected by a mantlet of stout wood, while the sides were fitted with a low breastwork.

Where I was lying was thus fairly secure. The only danger was that I might be picked off by musketeers in the maintop or crosstrees, the foremast itself protecting me from any shots from for'ard. The planking of the top also was stout enough to resist a musket ball, though the thud of shots as they struck the under side of the top at first filled me with misgiving.

After firing for some time the rascally crew apparently came to the conclusion that they were doing too much damage to their own sails and rigging, the fore-topsail being holed in many places; so I could look around in comparative security.

The tops were to be utilized by sharpshooters in the coming fight, for to my delight I found a whole armoury stowed away on the foretop--muskets, pistols, cutlasses, and two sharp axes, with plenty of powder and ball. Had I delayed my desperate plan much longer the top would have been filled with men. I examined the muskets and the pistols and found them already loaded. I next turned my attention to the deck of the pirate ship. The guns' crews were at their stations, and were either looking astern or else regarding my position. The captain and his scarred-faced lieutenant were almost speechless with rage, for they knew that for the time being I held the trump card.

Not a sign could I see of my four men, but presently the wretched negro was hauled out, a knife was thrust into his hand, and by shouts and dumb-show he was ordered to go into the rigging and bring me down.

The recreant blackamoor was almost mad with terror, his skin turned a dusky-greyish hue, and his eyes rolled about in an agony of fright. Behind and below him were the knives and pistols of the pirates, above him was I, covering his trembling body with a pistol that I steadied against the edge of the lubber's hole.

Slowly he climbed till, urged on by the shouts of the fiendish crew, he reached the futtock shrouds. Here he stopped, and in a low, agonized voice he whispered: "No shoot, Massa; only pretend to shoot! Me come to you; me help you! No shoot me!"

Seeing that this man would be useful in the defence of the top, I fired, the bullet passing well over his head. He then climbed up hurriedly, till his head and shoulders were through the lubber's hole. Then with a yell of triumph the treacherous black seized my right wrist in his powerful grip, and his knife flashed in the air.

But he reckoned not on the other weapons that I had. Seizing another pistol in my left hand, I fired point-blank at his head.

Through the smoke I saw the gaping hole cut by the ball, his grip relaxed, and he fell. For a brief space his body hung suspended on the inside of the futtock shrouds, then it slowly over-balanced and crashed with a heavy thud across a gun carriage on the deck below.

A loud yell came from the pirate crew, and once more a heavy fire was opened on the foretop, but, lying snugly under the shelter of the mantlet, I remained in perfect safety. The only chance they had of bringing me down was by training a piece of ordnance on the top; but either they did not possess a cannon capable of being elevated to that height, or else they feared that the damage done would be greater than the success of getting rid of me.

When the firing ceased I again looked over the edge of the breastwork, the deadeye lanyards making me practically invisible from the deck. Cautiously taking a musket, I thrust its muzzle over the edge and aimed at my particular enemy, the scarred-faced pirate and smuggler. I fired, and though I missed him, the bullet struck the pirate captain in the back, and he fell to the deck. Leaving him where he was lying, the lieutenant took refuge on the aft side of the mainmast, cursing at me in a lusty voice.

Encouraged by my success, I opened a steady fire on the crew, and in a few moments the whole of the deck that was visible from the foretop was deserted.

But only for a time. Groups of men made their way towards the foremast shrouds, holding thick planks of wood over their heads. Under these rude mantlets they made preparations for storming the foretop, some making for the weather shrouds, others for the lee.

Seizing one of the axes, I attacked the lower rigging vigorously, cutting through shrouds, slings, braces, and halyards, everything that came within reach, thus making my position secure from escalade.

The Friend of the Sea was sailing close hauled on the starboard tack, and as I continued my work of destruction I could see the head sails coming down, while, deprived of its principal supports, the foremast swayed and creaked ominously.

In spite of the frantic efforts of the helmsman, the pirate ship flew up into the wind, her maintopsail was taken aback, and she was hove to in a helpless state.

Then for the first time I could see the Gannet coming down on the Friend of the Sea, the sun shining on her clouds of weatherworn canvas.

Having the weather gauge, she soon ranged up and opened fire. Why she had not done so before I could not understand, till a crowd of the pirates came for'ard, dragging with them my four men. While the chase lasted they had, so I afterwards learned, suspended their prisoners over the stern, thus preventing our humane captain from opening fire; but, now the chase was at an end, there was no further use for the doomed men.

Blindfolded, and with their arms tied behind their backs, the unfortunate men were marched to the entry port and pushed into the sea in sight of their comrades, who were powerless to prevent yet ready to avenge their deaths.

Both ships were firing rapidly, the shot from the Gannet whistling through the pirate's rigging and crashing through her hull at every broadside.

Though overmatched both in number and weight of guns, the Friend of the Sea fought bravely, and from my elevated position I could see the men stricken down by dozens, yet their fire was vigorously kept up.

Being sure that escape was impossible, the Gannet devoted all her attention to the hull of her foe, at the same time shortening the distance between them.

Now through the drifting smoke I could distinguish the crew of the Gannet. There was Captain Poynings standing unmoved amid the crash and din of the fight, the master standing by the wheel, his head bound with a blood-stained scarf, several men, still in death, encumbering her decks, while amid the throng of excited fighters a continuous procession of wounded was winding its way towards the main hatch.

Finally both vessels came within a few yards of each other, and I heard the order given: "Prepare to board!"

The pirates had now abandoned their guns, and had begun to cluster for'ard, under the shelter of the bulwarks, each man armed with pistol and cutlass. They knew what the issue meant, and each man prepared to sell his life dearly.

As the crash came, and the two ships were interlocked, the Gannets, headed by their gallant captain, poured over the hammock nettings and gained their enemy's deck. Every inch was grimly contested, several of the Gannets falling between the two vessels and meeting a miserable fate by being ground between the heaving sides.

Captain Poynings singled out the scarred-faced lieutenant, and, being well ahead of his men, his position was for a time one of considerable danger. I watched the fight without fear of being made a mark by the pirates, who were too hard pressed to heed me. The sight held me spellbound, till I observed one of the pirates covering our captain with a musket. The man waited, with finger on trigger, till the position of the combatants would give him an opportunity to fire without injuring his leader.

Seeing this, I grasped a loaded musket, and at fifteen yards' distance put a ball through the villain's head. Almost at the same time Captain Poynings ran his opponent through the arm, and the latter, jumping backwards, turned and ran towards the hatchway.

Then came a cry, from which side I knew not: "The magazine! the magazine!" and immediately the captain shouted: "Back, men, for your lives!"

There was a rush for the shelter of the Gannet, and, realizing the danger, I crept along the foot-rope of the foreyard, gained the foreyard of the Gannet, and thence made for her foretop. Once there I lost no time in descending to the deck, heartily thankful at treading the planks of a British man-o'-war once more, though my return in the confusion was unnoticed.

The fighting was practically at an end, the Gannet being busily engaged in trying to free herself from the pirate's embrace, and keeping back the frenzied rushes of the doomed crew.

When the last grappling was severed, the Gannet swung slowly round, her flying jibboom still entangled in the pirate's bowsprit shrouds. Suddenly there was a blinding flash, followed by an appalling roar--the desperate villain had fired the magazine.

Luckily the Friend of the Sea had by this time used nearly all her ammunition, so that the explosion, though disastrous to herself, did us very little damage.

Before the debris flung high in the air by the explosion had fallen, the pirate ship had sunk beneath the waves, taking our flying jibboom and part of the jibboom with her, while a heavy pall of smoke covered the place where a moment before she was lying like a wounded animal at bay.

Now that all danger was past, the effects of the hardships I had undergone began to tell. I was faint, weary, and hungry; my clothes were in rags, my hands blistered, and my face blackened with powder. However, I made my way aft to report myself.

There was no sign of Captain Poynings on the quarterdeck, so I went towards his cabin. As I passed underneath the break of the poop I came face to face with young Greville Drake.

He stood stockstill for a moment, his eyes starting from his head in terror, till, realizing that I was flesh and blood, and not a phantom, he gasped: "Good heavens, 'tis Aubrey Wentworth back from the dead!"

Seeing I was like to fall, he took me by the arm and led me below. "But I must report myself," I said.

"Then report to me, Aubrey."

"You? Why not the captain?"

His answer was a suggestive jerk of his thumb towards the cockpit hatch, where the grim procession of mangled seamen still continued.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Is Captain Poynings down?"

"Yes; struck down at the last of the fight, and so are all the other officers. In me you see the senior unwounded officer, and as such I am in command of the Gannet."

It was only too true. Our gallant captain had been hurled to the deck by a piece of falling timber from the doomed ship. The lieutenants were all either killed or dangerously wounded; the master, though he remained at his post during the engagement, had fallen through loss of blood; and the purser, who took his part in the fight as bravely as the rest, had had his left arm shattered above the elbow.

With the crew the mortality had been fearful, while hardly forty men were uninjured. With an undermanned, severely damaged ship, it was a question whether we should ever reach port again. Only a continued spell of fine weather would guarantee our safety.

Having washed, changed my ragged garments, and eaten a hearty meal, I went below to the cockpit.

Here, lighted by the dismal glimmer of a few ship's lanterns, a ghastly sight met my eyes, while a hot, fetid stench filled the gloomy region like a cloud. Stretched upon rough wooden trestles, or huddled in rows upon the bare deck, were dozens of human beings, some moaning, others shrieking and cursing in their agony.

Our surgeon was about to operate upon a little powder-monkey, a lad of about fifteen years of age, who had received a ball in the shoulder. Lying by the lad's side was his father, whose leg had just been removed, the pitch with which the stump had been smeared still smoking. In spite of the pain caused by the rough-and-ready surgery, the father grasped his son's hand, encouraging and comforting the boy, as the surgeon probed for the bullet.

At length I found Captain Poynings. He, refusing the comfort of his own cabin, preferred to share with his gallant crew the horrors of the cockpit, and lay, with his head and shoulders swathed in bandages, on a rough mattress, as if he had been an ordinary mariner.

Added to the dismal noises came the dull thud of the carpenters' hammers and mallets as they drove plugs into the shot holes betwixt wind and water, while the creaking of the ship's pumps betokened that she was leaking freely.

On going on deck I found that, as the next officer fit for duty after Drake, I was put in charge of the starboard watch, and had to take my share in the responsibility of navigating the Gannet to the nearest port.

This happened to be Gibraltar, which we reached after thirty-six hours of anxiety and arduous labour, and when the Gannet dropped anchor off the mole our feelings were those of relief and thanksgiving.

I accompanied Drake on shore to pay a visit to the Spanish authorities, asking them to afford us assistance in refitting. This request was readily and courteously granted, and during our stay, extending over three weeks, we had frequent opportunities of visiting the famous rock.

My companion often called my attention to the fact that military discipline seemed very lax at this great fortress; so when, forty-one years later, it was captured by a coup de main by Admirals Rooke and Shovel, the news of its falling an easy prey to us did not come as a great surprise.

At length the Gannet was again fit for sea; our captain was well enough to take command, and on the tenth day of September, 1663, we sailed for the shores of Old England.