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first had been drawn up opposite Fort St Philip which fort formed the north-easterly bastion of the town of Cadiz had withdrawn a mile or more and were still withdrawing.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 halfdozen 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 FeRpe, 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 flyboats. But we have shot.”
Over to our right l~ssex’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 periclass="underline" 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 flyboats 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 halfdozen 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.