Chapter XXI: 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.