But all Monson’s exploits pale before an action which occurred in Cerimbra roads, in which a great treasure-ship was cut out, in sight of a fortress and eleven galleys, and within hearing of the guns of Lisbon. He was then associated with Admiral Sir Richard Lewson, but the principal part of the service was performed by himself. When the carrack and galleys were discovered lying at anchor, a council was held on board the admiral’s vessel, which occupied the better part of a day, as many of the captains thought it folly to attempt to capture a great ship defended by a fortress and eleven galleys. Monson thought differently, and it was at length agreed that he and the admiral should anchor as near the carrack as they could, while the other and smaller vessels should ply up and down, holding themselves in readiness for any emergency. It is likely, as Southey remarks, that “the sight of these galleys reminded Sir William of the slavery he had endured at Lisbon in similar vessels, if not indeed in some of these identical craft, and he longed to take revenge upon them.” Monson says that in order to show contempt of them, he separated from the rest of the fleet, by way of challenging and defying them. “The Marquis of St. Cruz, General of the Portuguese, and Frederick Spinola, General of the galleys, accepted the invitation, and put out with the intention of fighting him; but they were diverted from their purpose by a renegade Englishman, who knew the force of the vice-admiral’s ship, and that she was commanded by Monson.”

The town of Cerimbra lies at the bottom of a roadstead, which usually affords protection for shipping. It had at that time a strong fortress close to the beach, and a fortified castle, while there was a troop of soldiers ashore, whose numerous tents lined the coast. The galleys were partly covered or flanked by a neck of rock, and the batteries could play over them, thus affording them great protection, while they could themselves keep up a continuous fire at any approaching vessel. Again, Monson tells us, “there was no man but imagined that most of the carrack’s lading was ashore, and that they would hale her aground under the castle where no ship of ours would be able to come at her—all which objections, with many more, were alleged, yet they little prevailed. Procrastination was perilous, and therefore, with all expedition, they thought convenient to charge the town, the fort, the galleys, and carrack, all at one instant.” This was done next morning, although a gale sprung up about the time of the attack. The admiral weighed, fired the signal gun, hoisted his flag, and was the first at the attack; “after him followed the rest of the ships, showing great valour, and gaining great honour. The last of all was Monson himself, who, entering into the fight, still strove to get up as near the shore as he could, where he came to an anchor, continually fighting with the town, the fort, the galleys, and the carrack all together; for he brought them betwixt him, that he might play both his broadsides upon them. The galleys still kept their prows towards him. The slaves offered to forsake them ... and everything was in confusion amongst them; and thus they fought till five of the clock in the afternoon.” Monson’s stratagems and rapidity of action paralysed the commanders of the galleys, and the men rowed about wildly to avoid him, not knowing what to do. The admiral came on board his ship, and, embracing him in the presence of the ship’s company, declared that “he had won his heart for ever.”

The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism. Volume 2 — Part 18