ENGLAND ON THE DEFENSIVE.
Our story having now (with swift passage) glided o'er some two years, we arrive at a period in which all England was aroused by the alarm of a dreadful invasion.
All corners that the eye of Heaven visited throughout the island were indeed frightened from their proprietary by the mighty preparation of the Spaniard,—a preparation of such vast magnitude that it shewed the determination of the foe to subdue, and put to indiscriminate slaughter, the whole population of the country, if possible exterminate heresy at one blow, and acquire eternal renown by reuniting the whole Christian world in the Catholic Communion. England at this period, it must be owned, was in a critical situation. A long peace had deprived it of all military discipline and experience. It was exposed to invasions from all quarters, as it was in reality neither fortified by art or nature; whilst the numerous Catholics, with which it still abounded, it was feared would be ready to join the invader the moment he succeeded in landing.
In addition to this, men began to consider the difference between the English and Spanish forces. To remember the overwhelming power of the naval force of the Spaniard, and the vast numbers, reputation, and veteran bravery of his armies, and then—as they sat and brooded over these matters—they reflected that the fate of England must be decided in two battles, one at sea and one on land. Deep and portentous were the thoughts and fears these things conjured up when the certainty of the visitation became apparent. Whole families, high and low, rich and poor, looked each other in the face with vacant horror and dire apprehension. From the hut to the castle, from the cottage to the baronial hall, spread the whispered fear. Not altogether the fear of being beaten in fair and open fight, but of being overwhelmed by the mighty power of a tremendous foe without chance of a successful defence. Nor is it to be wondered at, if the hearts of the islanders did quail at this juncture, when we remember the three years' preparation which (now completed) was about to be precipitated like a mighty torrent upon the shores of England.
According to a letter of Sir John Hawkins, written at the time to Sir Francis Walsingham, the main strength of the Armada consisted in a squadron of fifty-four magnificent and invincible ships, embracing nine galleons of Portugal, twenty great argosies of Venice, twenty huge Biscayns, four large Galleasses, and a ship of the Duke of Florence of 800 tons. Besides these were thirty smaller ships and thirty hulks, which, together with others, amounted to 132 ships and 20 caravals.
On board this huge fleet were 8,766 mariners, and 21,855 soldiers, besides 2,088 galley-slaves; and in addition, the Armada contained stores for the army, cannon, double cannon, culverin, and field-pieces, 7,000 muskets, 10,000 halberts, 56,000 quintals of gunpowder, and 12,000 quintals of match. Nay, so confident were these overweening Spaniards of success, that their huge ships even contained horses, mules, carts, waggons, spades, mattocks, baskets, and everything necessary for settling upon the land they meant, at one blow, to conquer and enslave.
Both fleet and army were also provided on a scale of unexampled profusion, and the officers who were to lead, and who were of the noblest families of Spain, even embarked their suites of attendants and their physicians. But, perhaps, the most galling accompaniment to the Englishman, and which this dread Armada, had provided itself with, was one hundred and eighty monks and Jesuits, carrying with them chains, wheels, racks, and whips to be employed in the conversion of those heretics they might choose to spare from the infliction of a cruel death. In fact, every part of the vast empire of the malignant Spaniard had resounded with "dreadful note of preparation and the noise of armaments," whilst all his ministers, generals, and admirals were sweating in aid of the design.
But this was not all that England had to fear, for the Duke of Parma and Asmodeus of Savoy had also prepared in the Netherlands an army of 30,000 men; whilst the Duke of Guise was conducting to the coast of Normandy 12,000 troops, in order to embark and land on the west of England. So that in the Netherlands also the air resounded with the busy hammer of smiths and carpenters, collected in Flanders, Lower Germany, and the coasts of the Baltic, and who "making the night joint-labourer with the day," were engaged in the construction of vessels and flat-bottomed boats, for the transport of their infantry and cavalry.
The hearts and minds of many for the moment quailed under the thought of this tremendous armament; whilst all Europe apprehended that England was doomed, and must be overwhelmed and enslaved.
A deep gloom and a secret horror was indeed upon the hearts of all. They stooped, however, but for a moment beneath the tide, and then the whole nation seemed to start up at the imperious challenge of Spain, sword in hand, sheathed in complete steel.
Not a county in England, not a town or village even, but seemed to rise simultaneously in arms—not a corner of the land but rang with preparation and muster, and awoke endeavour for defence! Nay, such was the incredible alacrity with which from shire to shire the soldiers were raised, and mustered and marched, that from Cornwall all along southward towards Kent, and thence eastward to Lincolnshire, (as the account of the period is worded) "was there a place to be doubted for the landing of these foreigners; but that within forty-eight hours, on horseback or on foot, 20,000 men, completely armed, with ammunition, provision, and carriages, commanded by the principal nobles of their counties, and captains of knowledge, would be ready to oppose them."
In the interior, also, every man capable of bearing a weapon, rushed to arms.
The green fields, near Tilbury in Essex, gleamed with the white tents of 22,000 foot, and 2,000 horse, whilst another army, close at hand, counted 28,000 men.
The narrow streets of London, too, resounded night and day with roll of drum and blast of trumpet; every church and tower and hall was rummaged for arms and armour. Each citizen stood in harness of proof. The armour, which had "hung unsecured by the walls" even from the Crusades, was taken down and put in requisition; and in addition to this, 10,000 additional troops were raised within the walls, together with 5,000 more as a reserve.
All this, however, against the overwhelming moral force of Philip, in the minds of many experienced men, was thought insufficient; and whilst the bold spirits of the leaders of the host led them to affirm that they were strong enough to cut to pieces the whole Spanish force the moment they land, there were others quite aware that the ocean was the element on which to meet the foe.
"A mighty power," said the great Raleigh at the juncture, "in a goodly fleet of ships, and which neither foot nor horse can follow, cannot be desirable to land where it list in England; unless it be hindered and unconnected by a fleet of answerable strength." It was accordingly under advice of men of approved valour and conduct, that Elizabeth set about to equip a fleet suitable, as far as possible, to the occasion.
Notwithstanding, however, the almost incredible exertions made to meet the foe on the seas, the naval power of England seemed quite inadequate to resist so terrible an enemy upon the waters. All the sailors in England amounted to but 14,000 men, and the size of the shipping was so small that, with the exception of a few of the Queen's ships of war, there were not four vessels belonging to the merchants which exceeded 400 tons. The royal navy consisted but of twenty-eight sail, many of them of small size, and indeed for the most part deserving the name of pinnaces rather than ships.
To counterbalance this disproportion, however, the English felt consolation in the known dexterity and valour of her seamen, their constant custom of sailing in tempestuous seas, and being undeterred by the dangers of the element on which they had now to fight; a virtue which will ever render our glorious sailors more than a match for any foe.
In addition to this small navy, all the commercial towns in England furnished forth ships. The citizens of London fitted out and equipped thirty vessels, and the gentry and nobility hired, armed, and manned forty-three ships.
Such then was the mighty preparation of the Spaniard, and such was the "awakened endeavour of England for defence,"—an endeavour perhaps without parallel in the history of our country, and which we have thus minutely brought to the recollection of our readers, because it was witnessed and keenly observed by one whose mighty mind seized upon whatever came within his piercing ken, and who, whilst he was the most careful of observers, was, at the same time, possessed of judgment as remarkable as his imagination and genius were wonderful; one who treasured up what he then beheld, although he stood, apparently, but as "a cypher to that great accompt;" and whilst he thus in reality, beheld "a kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene," himself possessed—
"A muse of fire; that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
afterwards giving his observations to the world in descriptions of chivalrous grandeur, such as none other in any age has equalled. One who himself saw that brave fleet so hastily collected and prepared for the occasion.
"With silken streamers the young Phebus fanning,
And in them beheld,
Upon the hempen tackle, ship-boys climbing;
Heard the shrill whistle, which did order give,
To sounds confus'd. Beheld the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea,
Breasting the lofty surge.
Who stood upon the rivage and beheld
A city as the inconstant billows dancing,
For so appeared the fleet majestical."
Yes, whilst the choice-drawn cavaliers of Elizabeth's age stood in arms, and whilst, upon the waves rode those adventurous seamen, Shakespeare stood amongst the file, and as his capable eye marked the big muster, his heart beat with each roll of the drum, as it resounded amidst the narrow streets of old London.
And what, indeed, must have appeared to such a man "this post haste and homage through the land," this "threatening of the threatener," this "pomp and circumstance of glorious war?" What must have been the feelings of that one man as he stood amidst the throng—
"For who was he, whose chin was but enriched
With one appearing hair, that would not follow
Those culled and choice-drawn cavaliers?"
He saw the daily and hourly preparation; he beheld the knightly and the noble "all plumed like ostriches;" he saw the closes, the streets and alleys of Lud's old town swarming with men-at-arms.
"He beheld the strict and most observant watch,
Which nightly toiled the subject of the land:
The impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Did not divide the Sunday from the week:
And then he put himself in arms."