The attention
of her hands was being entirely given to a desperate endeavour to
launch the boats in time.
Of this Don Miguel's anguished eyes had no more than a fleeting but
comprehensive glimpse before his own decks were invaded by a wild,
yelling swarm of boarders from the grappling ship. Never was
confidence so quickly changed into despair, never was hunter more
swiftly converted into helpless prey. For helpless the Spaniards
were. The swiftly executed boarding manoeuvre had caught them
almost unawares in the moment of confusion following the punishing
broadside they had sustained at such short range. For a moment
there was a valiant effort by some of Don Miguel's officers to rally
the men for a stand against these invaders. But the Spaniards,
never at their best in close-quarter fighting, were here demoralized
by knowledge of the enemies with whom they had to deal. Their
hastily formed ranks were smashed before they could be steadied;
driven across the waist to the break of the poop on the one side,
and up to the forecastle bulkheads on the other, the fighting
resolved itself into a series of skirmishes between groups.
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