THE GREAT ARMADA.
DURING the next few years I took the _Damsel of Lyme_ on several
cruises, all more or less adding to her fame as a swift and daring
privateer, and to the exchequer, both of our Gracious Sovereign and
of our house.
It was a cause of sore regret that my father was compelled to live
ashore, and his active mind chafed under the restraint. Yet, every
time the pinnace returned to port, he would come into Portsmouth and
busy himself with matters concerning her ordering and well-being.
And now at last the danger my sire had long ago foreseen began to
take shape, and the people of England had perforce to recognise that
the danger of a Spanish invasion was no dreamer's fancy.
Thus it came to pass that early in the spring of 1587 Sir Francis
Drake was sent to cruise off the coasts of Spain and Portugal, and
much damage did he do to the ships lying in Cadiz Harbour and the
mouth of the Tagus.
In this expedition I was unable to have a part, greatly to my regret,
for, having offered the service of the pinnace to Her Majesty's
Council, I was ordered to attend a convoy sent from the Thames to the
aid of the Netherlands.
At length, in the month of May 1588, I being then twenty years of
age, news was brought to us that the Great Armada, the outcome of
years of preparation on the part of the King of Spain, had at length
left the Tagus.
Well do I remember the evening on which the portentous news reached
the town of Portsmouth. We were then lying alongside the quay, having
but newly arrived from a lengthy cruise off the Channel Islands. Our
stock of ammunition had been hardly touched, for luck had been
against us, few Spanish ships bound for the Low Countries having
fallen into our hands. But provisions and fresh water were well-nigh
exhausted, and 'twas for the purpose of renewing these necessaries I
had put into the harbour.
Jack Staynton had been my faithful comrade ever since he had been
transferred from the _Nonsuch_ to the expedition in search of the
silver mines of San Luis. He was now a strapping young fellow, not as
tall as I was, but of great breadth of shoulders and as powerful as
an ox.
That evening he and I were pacing the little deck talking of many
things. Our arrival had been unexpected, but, according to custom, I
had dispatched a mounted messenger to Crofton to announce the fact to
my father. Jack had spent the greater part of the forenoon at his
home, and had come on board to superintend the shipment of the stores
that we had been promised ere midnight.
Suddenly our talk was interrupted by the clanging of the great bell
of St. Thomas's--not the usual call to Divine Service, but a wild
tocsin that portended something of great moment.
We could see the townsfolk issue from their houses and hasten towards
the Guildhall.
"Master Matthews will not deliver the provisions while this
excitement lasts," quoth Jack. "Let's ashore, and see what it is
about."
"A fire, perchance, or a riot in the High Street," I replied
cautiously. "Still, if you are of a mind to go, I am with you."
Accordingly we stepped on to the quay and followed the direction
taken by the crowd.
We had not reached the Sign of the Blue Anchor when we were well-nigh
capsized by a stout, red-faced man, who, puffing and blowing, ran as
hard as his short legs would carry him.
"What's amiss, friend?" asked Jack, bringing him up with no light
hand.
"The Spaniards! The Spaniards!" he shouted as loudly as his shortness
of breath permitted. "The murdering villains have landed at Plymouth,
and are marching hither. Let me go, young sir, for I----"
"'Tis bad news, Ralph," said Jack, releasing him. "Once they set foot
in the country our work will be tenfold more difficult."
"Let us hope the news be false," I replied. "But here is the High
Street, and methinks the news has already been announced."
As we entered the crowded street we found knots of white-faced,
excited people discussing the news. Some were wending their way
homewards, but, for the most part, the townsfolk were standing in
groups all across the narrow thoroughfare.
"Tell us, comrade. Did we hear aright? Have the Spaniards landed?" I
asked, addressing a burly man dressed in the uniform of a captain of
the train-band.
"Landed, forsooth! Nay, lad, but 'tis bad enough. They say the great
fleet has at last left the Tagus. The Governor's orders are that
every ship that can carry even the smallest piece of ordnance is to
haste to a rendezvous at Plymouth."
"Of that you are certain?"
"Ay. I was in the foremost of the throng when the Mayor read the
proclamation. See, there is Master Long, the owner and captain of the
armed barque Minx. He is losing no time in the matter."
'Twas no time for ceremony, and Jack, who knew Master Long as an old
townsman, ran after him.
"Ay, lad. Every ship, barque, and pinnace in this port must clear the
harbour ere to-morrow morn, unless they be craven or false to their
country. So fare thee well, Staynton, lad; may we meet in Plymouth
Sound ere Friday night."
"Come on, Ralph!" exclaimed Jack. "We must have the flour and the
water somehow. We'll turn out the crew and fetch it ourselves."
So, returning to the pinnace, we ordered ten of our men to follow us.
The news of the impending danger had preceded us, and the utmost
enthusiasm prevailed amongst the seamen in the ships lying in the
Camber.
"Flour, my masters!" roared Smith, the miller. "Ay, sacks of it, but
ne'er a man to carry it forth. Your men are outside? Well, then, let
them come in and take what they want. Concerning the payment, that
matter can well wait till you return. What, four hundred sacks for
the Enterprise? Ay, good Master Brazenose, I have that and much more,
but, as I have just been telling these gentles, it must be fetched,
for I have none to carry. And you, gossip? Seventy sacks for the
_Pearl_?"
Thus and thus was the worthy miller beset by ship captains eager to
replenish and be off; and 'twas much the same with the other millers
and sellers of food-stuffs in the town.
Such was their loyalty and patriotism that they allowed their stocks
to be cleared out on the understanding that their accompts would be
settled by the Mayor in the case of ships fitted out by private
enterprise, and by the Governor where Her Majesty's vessels were
concerned. I heard afterwards that not a sack nor a quintal had been
charged for but what had actually been taken.
However, we helped ourselves, the seamen staggering back to the
pinnace under the weight of the sacks of flour. The whole town was in
a commotion. Pikemen and musketeers living in private houses were
hastening to their respective posts, buckling on their armour as they
ran, for the rumour that the Dons had landed outpaced the actual
facts. Seamen, escorted by their wives and relations, were rejoining
their ships, and masters of ordnance were serving out powder with a
reckless disregard of danger. Indeed a tumbril of powder on its way
to Quay Gate was exploded by a spark from a torch, causing great
commotion but little damage beyond slaying the three men accompanying
it and the horses drawing the cart.
Never was the work of stowing the cargo of the _Damsel of Lyme_
carried out quicker, for the wind was fair, being from the
north-east, and the tide would serve till after midnight. We all
toiled incessantly, looking upon it as a matter of honour and duty
that the pinnace should clear the harbour almost as soon as any of
the vessels that lay therein.
In the midst of this scene of bustle and excitement a young man of
about twenty years of age, magnificently attired and mounted, rode up
to the edge of the quay and dismounted, a train of nearly twoscore
horsemen, armed with musketoons, following him. By the dust that
enveloped the party from head to foot they had evidently ridden from
afar.
"One hundred pounds! One hundred pounds will I give to the shipman
who will give me and my men a passage," he shouted.
"A passage--whither, sir?" replied the master of a small coaster.
"There be none that sail save for Plymouth."
"Nay, I have made myself misunderstood," said the stranger. "I have
ridden from Winchester to Southampton to find a ship wherein we can
be of service. 'Twas of no avail, so we rode hither. Good marksmen
all, and eager to strike a blow for Queen and country. Come, sirs,
are not a staunch vessel and crew to be hired?"
The stranger made the request in vain. Not a craft was to be
obtained. For days past gentlemen from the neighbouring countryside
had flocked in to serve as volunteers both on the Queen's ships and
those provided by loyal merchants and others, and every available
craft had her full complement.
"We could, at a pinch, do with a leavening of good musketeers,"
whispered Jack.
"Ay, but these men--are they not landlubbers?" I replied.
"They would be lying on their backs ere we cleared Spithead."
"We can but ask," continued my comrade. "'Twould be close
quarters----"
"Do so, then," I replied, for I was in no mood to be hampered with a
crowd of landsmen, e'en though they could handle a musket well. "We
can but take five at the most."
Without waiting to give me time to retract my words, Jack sprang
ashore and spoke to the stranger.
"Only five, sir? Grammercy! Well, 'tis better than nothing at all.
Nevertheless, the sum I have mentioned shall be----"
"Nay," interrupted Jack. "'Tis not a question of money. We are
gentlemen privateers, having the Queen's licence, and are loth to
take payment for a service of this kind. But time presses, sir. If
you are of a mind to adventure yourself with us, you must aboard
within the hour."
The stranger saluted Jack gravely, then bidding his troop to remount,
led the way to the stables of the Three Crowns, which had been
pointed out by one of the bystanders. In less than a quarter of an
hour he was back, attended by four of his musketeers.
"My name, sir," said he, as he held out his hand to me, "is Tom
Slingsby, of Bramdean, near the city of Winchester. These four men I
have brought are good marksmen, and have journeyed upon the sea
aforetimes. Spare us not in any good service, for it is a joyful
thing to be able to attain one's end after so many rebuffs."
"And the rest of your men, Master Slingsby?"
"I have told them to ride on as soon as their horses are refreshed to
Southampton, where my brother has raised a troop of horse. 'Tis a
pity that I had to leave them behind, but one must be thankful for
small mercies, saving your presence."
So saying, Slingsby hurried off to where some of the crew were
stowing the stores in the hold, and, in his doublet and trunks only,
he was soon as hard at work as the rest of us. At length everything
was in order. The ropes were cast off, and half an hour later the
_Damsel of Lyme_ was threading her way westwards, slipping past the
larger and slower vessels with a speed that gave us the liveliest
satisfaction.
The pinnace was certainly crowded, yet men were wanted, and, in spite
of the discomforts, their spirits were high at the thought of the
struggle before them. But the new hands, in spite of their master's
assurance, soon succumbed to seasickness, while even Slingsby's face
wore a ghastly pallor when he sat at table with us.
It so happened that 'twas Jack's turn to keep the first watch, and
our new comrade insisted on sharing the duty, vowing that he could
not sleep through excitement, though I shrewdly suspected 'twas for
another reason. However, having had a last look round, and noting
with great delight that ours was almost the leading vessel of the
fleet, though some had had two hours' start of us, I went below and
was soon sound asleep.
When I went on deck to relieve my comrade we were well on our way
down Channel, the Isle of Portland being on our starboard quarter.
"Ralph, old fellow," said Jack in a low voice, "dost know we have a
baronet aboard the pinnace? This Slingsby is in truth Sir Thomas
Slingsby, of Bramdean. Methought the name was familiar when first he
told us; afterwards I taxed him with it."
"There are many such afloat at this time," I replied. "But how fares
he?"
"Bearing himself gallantly 'gainst fearful odds," replied Jack,
laughing. "Yet he'll be on his back ere we weather the Start, I
trow."
But my companion was in the wrong, for, in spite of the long rolling
motion that we got off that dangerous headland, Sir Thomas Slingsby
contrived to keep up and about, though it cost him a shrewd effort.
When abreast of the Mewstone we overhauled the foremost of our
consorts, and half an hour later the pinnace anchored in the
Catwater, with scarce room to swing, for the anchorage was crowded
with craft of all sizes, from the lordly _Triumph_, of 1100 tons
burthen, down to armed pinnaces of half our size.
Immediately on our arrival Jack and I went ashore to gather tidings
of the state of affairs, for thither the Lord High Admiral, Howard of
Effingham, had repaired to hold a council with his captains and the
Governor of the garrison of Plymouth.
A snow had put into Plymouth that morning from the westward with the
pleasing intelligence that the Spaniards had in truth put to sea, but
a great storm had done them such incalculable damage that the Armada
was compelled to put back, and that all danger for the present was at
an end. Accordingly, a mounted messenger was dispatched to London to
acquaint the Queen's Majesty of the tidings, and to await her orders.
Thus the scare that had brought us pell-mell from Portsmouth fizzled
out, and the combined fleets lay inactive in the Sound and in the
Catwater. Many of us wished that the catastrophe that had overtaken
the Spaniards had not taken place, for, filled with the utmost
ardour, our men were longing to fly at their hated foes.
"I trust, gentlemen, that I may be permitted to remain on board the
_Damsel of Lyme_," said the baronet, as the news of the dispersal of
the Spanish fleet was told him, "for she is a sweet, wholesome craft,
and of such speed that I could not wish to serve aboard a better."
"Since you think thus of her, Sir Thomas," I replied, flattered by
his praise for the little craft that had served me so well, "we are
only too willing----"
"Nay, nay," he interrupted. "Not Sir Thomas, and it pleases you.
Plain Tom Slingsby I must be so long as we ship together. Now, 'tis
not to be supposed that I will suffer my men to be kept here without
full and proper payment----"
"'Tis my turn to call 'nay,' Tom," I exclaimed. "Since we are on a
joint enterprise, not for our private advantage, but for the public
weal, I trust you will forbear to mention such a thing."
"But, on the other hand, 'twas I who begged a passage. Had I been
your guest 'twould have been different. Therefore I must insist on
bearing my share of the expenses----"
"Nay, then," said I impatiently, "you must needs find another craft."
"Grammercy! Dost mean that?" asked Slingsby in dismay.
"In truth I do. Once I take money from you--and I tell you plainly,
'tis needless and distasteful--I become beholden to my paymaster, in
a manner of speaking.... Therefore the matter must end, as I have
said."
"Pardon, Ralph!" exclaimed the baronet, extending his hand. "I meant
no offence. So let us cease quarrelling over this affair of honour.
I'll be your man, and be content to abide with you."
Thus it came about that Sir Thomas Slingsby became one of the crew of
the _Damsel of Lyme_, and a better and braver shipmate we could not
have wished to have.
At length, after days of inactivity, orders came from the Queen that,
since danger of immediate invasion was at an end, the fleet was to
disband, for the drain upon the exchequer was beginning to be
severely felt.
Great was the consternation at this order. The veteran Effingham, the
cool and calculating Raleigh, the dashing fire-eater Drake, and
nearly all the captains of the fleet were perilously near to mutiny,
and, after a council of war, it was decided that the ships should be
maintained by private enterprise, rather than let the Dons take us
unprepared.
Money poured in from all parts of the country, the London merchants
especially providing handsomely towards the upkeep of the fleet, upon
which so much depended.
Sir Francis Drake even went so far as to suggest that, rather than
remain inactive in port, the fleet, or, at least, a goodly portion of
it, should attack the disabled Armada in its native ports, and to
this the Lord High Admiral agreed.
As the _Damsel of Lyme's_ prowess as a swift sailer had already
spread, we had no difficulty in obtaining permission to accompany the
squadron, and before a fresh northerly wind we bore out of Plymouth
Sound, bound for the Tagus.
But luck was against us, for on the very day on which we caught sight
of the dark outlines of Finisterre, the wind, hitherto fair, backed
to the south'ard, and, fearful lest the Spaniard might take advantage
of the breeze that served us so scurvily, and so slip past us
unobserved, the Lord High Admiral gave orders for an immediate return
to Plymouth.
Early in July, owing to conflicting reports concerning our enemies,
Lord Howard divided the fleet into three parts. Twenty good-sized
ships and a complement of pinnaces were to cruise off Scilly under
the veteran Hawkins, the same number under Sir Francis Drake were to
lie off Ushant, while the bulk of the fleet, under the Lord High
Admiral in person, took up a position midway betwixt the two
subdivisions, for, to use Effingham's own words, "The Channel is
another manner of thing than it was taken for; we find it by
experience and daily observation to be one hundred miles over; in all
truth, a large room for us to look unto."
It was to Drake's division we were attached. In common with the other
pinnaces, we were to cruise well to the south'ard, keeping anxious
watch and ward. Should we descry the Spaniards, we were to make all
sail and return to the main division with the news.
Thus day after day and night after night went by in irksome, yet
necessary, watching, with never a sail to be seen save those of our
consorts. Vague rumours that the Spanish ships were still unable to
set sail, and that sickness was making havoc with the crowded crews,
came with persistent regularity, till our Admiral, thinking that,
after all, there was truth in these reports, gave orders for the
fleet to return to Plymouth, leaving five or six swift pinnaces to
patrol the sea betwixt Ushant and the Lizard.
To this tedious yet important duty the _Damsel of Lyme_ was detailed,
and, under the blazing sun, in flat calms and in summer gales, we
kept the sea, watching and waiting, for there was keen rivalry
amongst the scouting craft as to who should be the first to sight the
Great Armada.
On the morning of the 19th of July I had just gone below to snatch a
few hours' rest, when I was called on deck.
The sun had just appeared beyond a bank of dark clouds, but 'twas not
in that direction that my attention was called. Away to the
south-west the horizon was broken by a close line of bellying
topsails, covering a distance of at least seven miles.
"'Tis the Spaniards!" exclaimed Slingsby and I in the same breath.
"Ay," added Jack Staynton. "And mighty close in shore too. They were
to have kept to the French coast, I heard."
"'Tis our luck, and the _Raven's_ and the _Speedwell's_ misfortune,"
I replied, for I knew that our consorts who lay towards Ushant were
confident that theirs would be the honour of bearing news to the
Admiral.
"Clap on all sail!" I shouted, and, in obedience to the order, our
men ran hither and thither, swarming up the ratlines and lying along
the yards. Swiftly the huge spread of canvas was sheeted home, for
hitherto the pinnace had been cruising under easy sail, and,
responding to the call like a sagacious animal, the _Damsel of Lyme_
cleft the waters on her way to Plymouth Sound.
An hour later, and the topsails of our enemies' ships were lost to
sight beyond the horizon; but the fact remained that they were in our
wake, and that in another few hours they would be within view of the
land that it was our purpose to defend with the last drop of our
life's blood.
Soon the familiar outlines of the Lizard stood out clearly against
the cloudless sky, while halfway across Mount's Bay we perceived a
long, low-lying craft heading eastwards under a great press of sail.
"What do you make of her?" I asked, anxiously. "She is not one of our
pinnaces?"
"Nay, she is not of English build," replied Jack. "Yet she is of fair
speed, for we do not seem to shake her off."
"Methinks she gains on us," observed Slingsby. "Yet for our sakes I
hope I am mistaken."
With that we relapsed into silence, keeping our eyes fixed upon the
strange craft. Apparently she had caught a favourable current, or the
wind was stronger nearer in shore, for in spite of my pride in the
speed of the _Damsel of Lyme_, I was bound to admit that my pinnace
had found her match.
Nevertheless I hoped, since both vessels were converging on one
another, that the _Damsel_ would soon be in a position to show her
superiority.
Whatever the strange craft might be, I had determined to take no
risks, so the arms were served out and the ordnance loaded.
"Saving your presence, sir!" exclaimed one of the men, a wiry old
seaman from Bosham, who had only served on board the pinnace for a
month, "I know yon craft. If she carries on she'll put her master's
head into a noose."
"How so?" I asked.
"She's a pirate, sir, commanded by one Thomas Fleming, a Scotsman, of
the port of Leith. She has long been a scourge to our shipping,
though of late years she has taken herself farther off. Yet there is
a price set upon this Fleming's head."
"Perchance he would try conclusions with us," remarked the baronet,
not ill-pleased.
"I would be right willing to oblige him on that matter were it not
that I had more pressing work in hand. But we gain somewhat, I trow."
Both vessels were now abreast and about half a mile apart, but the
favouring breeze that had helped the Scotch vessel to overhaul us had
abated, and we were slowly yet surely forging ahead.
The red Cross of St. George was proudly displayed, yet with apparent
sullenness the long black craft held doggedly on her course.
A round of cheering burst from the throats of our men as the pinnace
drew ahead; but our triumph was shortlived, for with an appalling
crash our maintopmast snapped off close to the hounds, bringing with
it the yard and a jumble of torn canvas and tangled cordage.
Now 'twas the turn for the rogue Fleming to crow, and lustily the
Scots jeered at us. Then, to add to our discomfiture, they hoisted
the St. Andrew's Cross as they crossed our bow.
Stifling my chagrin, I gave orders for the raffle to be cleared away,
but we were hopelessly out of it. Doing a bare league an hour, we
were soon left hull down by the pirate vessel.
It was dark ere we were off Rame Head, for the wind had fallen light.
Suddenly a gleam of fire burst from the bold headland, throwing a
ruddy glow upon the oily sea.
"There's a poor farmer's hayrick gone, I trow!" I heard one of our
men exclaim.
But, as we watched, within a few minutes another blaze shot up, this
time towards the heights above the fishing port of Looe. Then from
the distant Wembury Point a glare illumined the sky, while farther
eastwards a regular chain of fiery points seemed to spring up as if
by magic.
"We are forestalled!" exclaimed Jack. "The news has already reached
home."
"Let us rather rejoice that the tidings have been delivered so
promptly," added Sir Thomas Slingsby.
As we rounded Penlee we espied the lights of six large ships standing
out of the Sound. Already the gallant Effingham was sallying out to
give battle to his formidable antagonists. Instinctively we felt that
this England of ours was about to pass through the greatest ordeal
she had ever yet known, and, pray God, will ever have to undergo.