{Illustration: cover & spine}
'GAINST THE MIGHT OF SPAIN
{Illustration: THE ESCAPE.
_Frontispiece._] [_Page 154._}
'GAINST THE MIGHT
OF SPAIN
A STORY OF THE DAYS OF THE GREAT ARMADA
BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
AUTHOR OF "UNDER KING HENRY'S BANNERS"
"THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN SPURS"
ETC. ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY SAVILE LUMLEY_
LONDON
THE PILGRIM PRESS
16 PILGRIM STREET, E.C.
CONTENTS
--.--
CHAP. PAGE
I. THE PILOT WHO DID NOT RETURN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
II. THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .11
III. CAPTAIN HANNIBAL CLEAT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
IV. JACK STAYNTON . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
V. CAPTAIN CLEAT IN HIS TRUE COLOURS . . . . . . . . . 44
VI. A PIRATE IN SPITE OF MYSELF . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
VII. CATCHING A TARTAR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
VIII. CAPTURED! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
IX. DON IAGO D'ALVAREZ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
X. ABOARD THE _SAN JOSEF_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
XI. THE INQUISITION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
XII. IN THE TORTURE-CHAMBER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
XIII. THE ESCAPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
XIV. A TIMELY RESCUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
XV. OFF TO THE SPANISH MAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
XVI. THE MOUNTAIN PASS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
XVII. BRINGING BACK THE SILVER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
XVIII. AT BAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
XIX. THE TAKING OF THE GALLEON . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
XX. BRINGING IN THE PRIZE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
XXI. THE GREAT ARMADA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
XXII. ENGLISH DOGS AND SPANISH BULLS . . . . . . . . . . . 266
XXIII. THE FIRESHIPS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 274
XXIV. THE LAST OF THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_ . . . . . . . . . . 285
XXV. IN THE QUEEN'S PRESENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
--.--
THE ESCAPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._Coloured Frontispiece_
"THE TWENTY-NINTH DAY OF JUNE!" HE EXCLAIMED IMPATIENTLY
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Facing p._ 48
MY JAILERS HALTED BEFORE A SMALL OAKEN DOOR . . . . . . . 122
FOUR MASKED AND HOODED FAMILIARS ENTERED . . . . . . . . . 128
THUS WE SPENT A HORRIBLE NIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
"HAVE THE SPANIARDS LANDED?" I ASKED . . . . . . . . . . . 240
WE HAD PLAYED OUR PART . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
'GAINST THE MIGHT
OF SPAIN
--.--
CHAPTER I.
THE PILOT WHO DID NOT RETURN.
I WAS born on the 6th day of July in the year of grace 1568, in the
parish of Crofton, in the county of Southampton.
My father, Richard Roy, was one of the Queen's pilots, and no man
knew the tides, currents, and hidden dangers of the Channel 'twixt
Scilly and the Forelands better than he.
Fourteen years before I was born, he being then but twenty-five, my
father brought into Southampton the ship that bore the heir to the
throne of Spain--the same Philip whom all England abhorred till the
time of his death. 'Twas on the occasion when this prince came to wed
our Queen Mary. Even then the haughty Spaniard was unpopular, and my
father roundly detested the task which had been entrusted to him.
Yet, since 'twas his duty, he did it right well, bringing the
prince's ship safely into Southampton, despite a thick sea-fog.
At length, wearying of staying in home waters, my father engaged in
several ventures on the Spanish Main. Here he met with varying
fortunes, having been twice cast ashore on the coast of Yucatan. On
the second occasion he formed an acquaintanceship with a Spanish
grandee, Don Iago d'Alvarez. Friendship I will not term it, as events
proved; yet since necessity knows no law, 'twas in my sire's interest
to work with this Spaniard.
Together, with the assistance of the Indians, they found and worked a
rich mine in the mountains that, like a backbone, traverse the
Spanish colony of Mexico--or New Spain, as they would call it.
With many mules laden with silver the adventurers journeyed towards
the coast, and losing heavily both in men, beasts of burden, and
precious metal, they succeeded in coming within sight of the shore
somewhere in the neighbourhood of the city of Vera Cruz.
That night Don Iago made excuse to go into the city, and in his
absence my father learned from one of the Indians that a rupture had
occurred 'twixt England and Spain. This might or might not have been
true, but the rest of the Indian's tale was of far greater import as
far as my sire was concerned. In short, Don Iago had gone to obtain
the aid of one, Don José da Silva. My father was to be treacherously
slain, and his share of the hard-gotten booty was to be divided
'twixt the two rascally Spaniards.
Black rage entered into my father's heart. Vowing that neither of the
villains should set eyes on the treasure, he dismissed the Indians,
and having taken possession of the map of the mine, without which it
was well-nigh impossible to find the spot again, he drove the baggage
mules with their precious burdens over the edge of a deep ravine,
through which the Rio del Foy gains the sea. Thus having thwarted his
treacherous companion, my sire fled southwards, casting about him to
find a means whereby he could leave the inhospitable shore of Mexico.
This he succeeded in doing, and after divers adventures, perils, and
hardships, again set foot in his native land in the year 1566.
The same year he married, and settled down once more to his calling
as a pilot, though the restless spirit of adventure sorely tempted
him again to seek for the vast treasures of the silver mine of San
Luis. Yet, held by home ties, he remained at Titchfield Haven, making
a modest living by piloting vessels within the limit of a line drawn
'twixt Lepe and Alverstoke Point.
In my younger days I regarded my parent as a giant, though I have
since outstripped him in height. He could, I remember, by standing on
tiptoe touch the crown of the arch of Crofton Church door with his
head, and 'tis seven feet less a bare four inches. Moreover, he was
broad in proportion, with massive chest and limbs, and muscles corded
like the trunk of an oak. On one occasion I remember seeing some
deep, curiously-shaped scars upon his back, whereat he made such ado
to conceal them that I forbore to ask him concerning them. That night
I asked my mother, but she firmly and gently bade me wait till I was
older ere I learnt the cause of those healed wounds.
One night, when I was twelve years of age, it fell, as frequently
happens, a flat calm. My father had returned, saying that, as no ship
was in sight and none likely to arrive this tide, he would retire to
rest.
I well remember that evening. It was hot and oppressive. The sun had
sunk behind a high bank of deep copper-coloured clouds, while the
lead-tinted sea rolled sullenly without any breeze to cause the
commotion. The sea-gulls, with plaintive cries, flew landwards, as if
the unnatural calm disturbed them, while away to the south-east I
noticed the distant flashes of summer lightning.
It was so hot and uncomfortable that I could not sleep, but lay in my
bed listening to the dull roar of the ground-swell upon the sand
flats that encumbered the mouth of our haven, for as such we
invariably spoke of the entrance to the tidal Titchfield River.
Shortly after midnight--for I remember hearing the great clock of
Place House chime the hour of twelve--there came a loud summons at
our door, and a voice exclaimed:
"Does Richard Roy, the pilot, dwell here?"
"Ay," assented my father. "What's amiss? Marry! I know most men
hereabouts, but I cannot recognise the sound of your voice."
"That can abide, pilot. But the pinnace _Speedie_, of Brixham, would
fain enter the haven."
"I'll be with you, gossip; but i' faith you must have caught a
favouring breeze, for at sunset there was naught in sight and no wind
withal."
A few minutes later my father, having bidden my mother farewell, with
the assurance that he would be home ere morning, unbarred the door.
I heard the footsteps of my sire and his companion crunching on the
shingle, then the sound of oars being thrown into the boat, and the
creaking of the thole-pins as the little craft put off to the
pinnace.
Shortly afterwards I must have fallen asleep.
I awoke with a start, to find the red glare of the rising sun shining
on my face. The sky was heavy with swiftly-moving masses of ragged
clouds, while seawards the white-crested waves were lashing
themselves furiously on the flat shore.
It was now low tide. The haven was dry, but no vessel lay on its
muddy bed. Looking landwards up the level valley of the Meon River, I
could see as far as the towers of Place House and the little hamlet
of Titchfield. Lying alongside the quay abreast of my Lord
Wriothesley's mansion were two vessels, but since I knew them well by
sight, 'twas certain that neither was the Brixham pinnace.
Seaward no ship was to be seen, either at anchor within the shelter
of Calshot Castle or under way towards the distant Wight.
The _Speedie_, if such she were, had vanished as mysteriously and as
unseen as she had arrived off the haven overnight.
So fierce was the storm that I made much ado to keep the casement
from being blown to by the force of the wind, while the loose, dry
sand above high-water mark was being blown landwards in great eddying
clouds. Ashore the full-leaved trees were bending greatly to the
wind, some of them having already been uprooted by the fierce blast;
the like I had never before seen.
Going downstairs, I found my mother sitting at the window, pale and
weary with watching, for 'twas ever thus whenever my father was at
his work in a storm.
"Oh, Ralph, what has befallen your father?" she exclaimed. "He went
off to some ship yesternight, and has not returned."
"Naught, I trust," I replied bravely, for I had unbounded confidence
in my sire's resolution and seamanship. "Perchance the tide fell
overmuch before the _Speedie_ could enter the haven, and he has taken
her to Southampton."
"You talk like a full-grown man, Ralph," she exclaimed, comforted, no
doubt, by my reply. Then her curiosity got the better of her
distress. "How came you to know that the ship was the _Speedie_?" she
asked.
"I heard the man call my father soon after midnight."
"Tell me, Ralph," she continued anxiously, "did he talk like--like an
Englishman?"
"Ay, though not like the people of these parts. He said he was of
Brixham; and where might Brixham be, mother?"
"I thank Heaven he was a Devon man," said my mother, ignoring my
question, and then, as if speaking to herself, "Oh, Dick, why did you
put off to that ship?"
Slowly the day passed. The gale abated almost as suddenly as it had
sprung up, and once more the fishing boats that had lain snugly in
the sheltered harbours and creeks of the Isle of Wight began to run
for home.
To our anxious inquiries the fishermen could give no news. No strange
craft named the _Speedie_ had been met with.
Late that afternoon I trudged into Southampton, but though my father
was well known in the port, he had not been seen there, neither had
any ship put in that bore the name of the Brixham pinnace.
An anxious night succeeded a trying day, but still no news. Two small
traders had been cast ashore, one at Stone Point, the other off
Warsash, and in both cases their crews contrived to reach land
safely; but neither vessel was the _Speedie_.
The days ran into weeks, till blank despair that had succeeded the
period of anxiety gave place to the strange calm of resignation.
At length, at the invitation of some of her relatives, my mother sold
up her home and moved into a small house at Portsmouth, having enough
to keep us in comparative comfort.
Thus in my fourteenth year I found myself about to be bound 'prentice
to learn the art and mystery of a mariner, and it is at this point
that my narrative begins.