A BRITOMARTE OF THE ARMADA
The call was sounded. It rang through every ship like a trumpet note and every man sprang to his duty.
“On to the Dons! No Spanish Inquisition!” was the watch-cry of the English navy, and with great difficulty, for the wind was against them, they steered for the open sea.
It was not until the next day that they came within sight of the Armada. The most powerful fleet that had ever been known since the beginning of time. Blest by the pope, sent forth amid the prayers and the fastings of the people, the fleet had been cleared of every unclean thing, for haughty England who styled herself the mistress of the seas was to be humbled upon her own element and made to yield her lands to the foreigners.
The great Spanish ships, built high like castles and towers, stretched in the form of a 305 crescent measuring at least seven miles from horn to horn. They came slowly on, and, although under full sail, yet as though the winds labored and the ocean sighed under the burden of it, says Camden. When they reached the open channel Lord Howard discovered his policy to his men.
They were not to come to close quarters with the towering, unwieldy galleons, but to pour broadside after broadside into them at a distance and to bide their opportunity to fall upon them. Nearer and nearer drew the two fleets, the Spanish preparing to begin the action at daybreak. But at two o’clock the gibbous moon arose in a clear sky and showed to the astonished Spanish the English fleet lying in their rear just out of cannon shot.
The next morning Lord Howard, sending before him a pinnace called the Defiance, provoked the fight by discharging a piece of her ordnance and presently out of his own ship, called the Ark Royal, thundered upon a Spanish craft which he supposed was that of the Spanish Admiral, Medina Sidonia, but which proved to be that of Alphonso de Leon.
At the same time Drake, Hawkins and Frobisher 306 fell terribly upon the rear which was valiantly commanded by Juan Martinez de Recaldo. The English invaded, retired, and re-invaded them from every quarter with incredible celerity. The Spanish captain general was nonplused. The English ships ran in, doing as much damage as possible without coming to close quarters, while his lumbering craft were useless to chase and cripple so agile an enemy. The great galleons and galleasses of Spain towered beside the English ships like “Flemish dray horses beside light Arabian coursers.”
Fiercer waxed the fight. Recaldo finding his vessel much battered, rejoined his chief with difficulty and Medina re-collecting his scattered vessels held on his course. For two hours the fight continued, and then Lord Howard thought best to retire to await the coming of other ships which had not yet left the harbor.
Flushed and elated with the victory, with not a single vessel and scarcely a man lost, the English exulted that the great Armada which had been devised to strike terror into their hearts was not so invincible after all. 307
“Is it not glorious, Edward,” cried Francis Stafford from a coil of rope upon which she had thrown herself. “How the Dons flew! Oh, ’tis enough to stir a stone to enthusiasm!”
“’Twould be glorious, Francis, were it not for thee,” answered the youth. “The thought that thou art here hampers my every action, and always am I looking to see that thou art safe. Would thou wert in England; even in the Tower so that thou wert not here.”
“And wherefore? Do I not bear myself as becomes an English lad?” cried Francis. “In all the wide world there is no place that I would rather be than upon the deck of the Ark Royal. So from henceforth speak no more of this. And, Edward, drop no hint of my sex to any. Wherefore should not an English maiden espouse the cause of her country as well as an English youth? Thou seest that there are lads here as maiden like in appearance as I. Give no thought to me, I beseech you.”
“I will speak of it no more, Francis,” rejoined Devereaux. “And yet I would that thou wert not here.”
The girl turned from him impatiently, and 308 hastily joined a group of which the admiral was the centre; for Lord Howard had taken them upon his own vessel.
The next night the air was stormy and the night dark. The English fleet was startled by an explosion on one of the Spanish ships and soon the flames were seen to spring high into the air. But other ships went to her aid and the fire was soon quenched, but the principal galleon of Seville commanded by Pedro de Valdez collided with another vessel and, her foremast being broken, was forsaken and became a prey to Sir Francis Drake.
Dark as the night was, Lord Howard on the Ark Royal, accompanied by two ships only—the Mary and the Rose—hotly pursued the Spaniards. The rest of the English fleet lay still because Drake had neglected to carry a lighted lantern in the poop of his vessel as had been commanded.
At break of day, having a prosperous north wind, the Spaniards bore down upon the English, but the English, to take advantage of the wind, turned westward. And then began a series of maneuvres in which each fleet contended to deprive each other of the benefit 309 of the wind. The contest did not last long and before noon the English having slipped between the Armada and the land bore down upon them right before the wind.
And then began a fierce fight which was waged with varying success. For, while in one place the English valiantly rescued the ships of London which were hemmed in by the Spaniards, in another Recaldo, being in danger, was disengaged with no less resolution by the Spaniards. Never before was such lightning and thunder of artillery heard, most of which, notwithstanding, went vainly from the Spanish, flying clear over the English ships. Only Cock, an Englishman, died gloriously in the midst of his enemies upon his own small bark.
The English ships being of lesser build than the Spanish invaded the Spaniards with great dexterity and having discharged their ordnance withdrew into the open sea and leveled all their shot with a certain and successful aim at the ponderous Spanish vessels.
And still the English admiral thought it not best to grapple and risk the fortune of a hand-to-hand fight. For the enemy had a 310 strong and well appointed army aboard which he lacked, and, their ships standing higher than his own vessels, threatened nothing less than certain destruction to those fighting them from below. This was the most fierce and bloody skirmish of all, though it only resulted in the capture of one huge galleon and a few small craft by the English. There was a mutual cessation of hostilities for all the next day for the wind fell dead and each fleet was compelled to drift idly with the tide.
The calm was still unbroken when the next day dawned, the twenty-fifth day of the month sacred to St. James, the patron saint of Spain. A small galleon of Portugal called the Saint Anne being unable to keep pace with the rest of the fleet was set upon by a number of small English craft, seeing which three of the great galleasses rowed furiously to her aid. Lord Howard’s Ark Royal, the Golden Lion of his brother, Lord Sheffield’s Bear, and others towed by fisher boats met them with such salvos of shot that, had not the Spanish fleet come up to rescue them, they would have shared the fate of Valdez. After this time the galleasses would not fight again. The 311 wind sprang up by noon and the fight became general. All afternoon it raged, and then, terribly battered, the Armada would fight no more; but, “gathering into a roundel” set all sail for Calais, where Medina hoped to find a force from the French to help him and then to Dunkirk to join with Parma and the great flotilla of the Netherlands.
And so with a full southwest wind the Spanish fleet went on, the English fleet following them. It was determined not to attack them until they reached the straits of Calais, where Lord Seymour and William Winter would join the navy.
Meantime Lord Howard conferred Knighthood upon John Hawkins, Martin Frobisher, Thomas Howard, Lord Sheffield and Roger Townsend for valor and fortitude. And now from every bay and harbor of England there put forth numbers of small craft hired by the youth of England, who hastened to join themselves to the fleet, for the Spanish fleet, though battered and dispirited, was not yet broken, and should it be joined by the forces which Medina expected all would indeed go ill with England. 312
The Armada anchored in Calais Roads and within cannon shot of it lay the English fleet. The next day being the Sabbath both fleets observed the day with appropriate services, the loud chants of the Spaniard mingling strangely with the hymns of the English.
Francis Stafford, wearied and fatigued, retired to the cabin and, finding it deserted, swung a hammock in one corner and clambering into it was soon fast asleep.
“I tell thee, Drake,” ’twas the voice of Lord Howard that awakened her, “the queen must have been inspired to invent so ingenious a device. If it succeeds——”
“It will succeed, my lord,” interrupted Drake positively, “That is if there can be found men who will adventure it. But it will take cool heads and stout hearts and an absolute fearlessness of danger. I think I know two men who will go but there must be others.”
Instantly the girl sat upright in the hammock.
“My lord,” she cried, “send me.”
Lord Howard and Sir Francis Drake started in astonishment. 313
“Boy, I thought thee asleep,” cried the admiral. “How long hast thou been awake?”
“But just to hear you say that you needed men for some service,” answered Francis, springing lightly out of the hammock.
“I said men, not boys,” said Drake smiling.
“Speak not so, Sir Francis,” reproved the admiral. “The lad hath borne well his part though he is so slight and maiden-like.”
“And there is this to be considered,” went on Francis eagerly. “I have escaped from the Tower. My father, as ye know, is an exile. What lies before me but imprisonment, or that worse than death, exilement from my native land. ’Twere better to send me whatever may be the hazard than others who can illy be spared.”
“Listen, boy, and thou shalt hear what the enterprise is. I trow that it will quell even thy brave spirit, burning though it be with valor. This night some of our ships covered over with rosin and pitch and filled with sulphur, gunpowder and other combustibles, are to be sent into the midst of the Spanish, fired and set adrift amongst them. ’Tis fraught 314 with great danger and peril to the lives of those who adventure it.”
“Still let me be one of them,” pleaded the girl earnestly.
“There is much in the lad’s favor,” said Drake meditatively. “He speaks truth when he declares that it would be best to send one who lies under the queen’s disfavor than another.”
“Yes; and if successfully performed it may bring him pardon. Elizabeth cannot but look with favor upon those who help to carry out a project devised by herself. Drake, I give my consent for the lad to go.”
“Perchance Edward Devereaux——” began Francis and then paused. What right had she to bring another into peril that might result in loss of life? But Lord Howard laughingly said:
“Another youth, Sir Francis, who burns to distinguish himself.”
“Then let him have his chance,” was the vice-admiral’s reply. “You and I would have jumped at such opportunity, my lord.”
“Go you then, Stafford, to Master Devereaux and tell him privately of the enterprise. 315 ’Twill be naught against him if he chooses not to accompany the expedition. If he should so select, come to me, both of you.”
Francis eagerly sought young Devereaux. It so chanced that he stood for the moment apart from his fellows. Joining him she said in a low tone:
“Edward, do you wish to adventure a most perilous undertaking?”
“Marry! Francis Stafford! how canst thou ask such question? Thou knowest that I burn to do something. It chafes me to be so inactive while in such near distance lies the Spaniard.”
“Then hearken! This night ships besmeared with pitch and rosin and filled with combustibles are to be sent into the midst of yon fleet. Two men are already chosen to guide them thither, and thou and I can accompany them also. But the admiral bids me say that it may be dangerous.”
“Huzzah!” pealed forth from the lips of the youth like the blast of a trumpet.
“Hush!” whispered Francis. “He desires it not to be made public. Come to him.”
She could scarce keep pace with his eagerness 316 as he bounded before her into the presence of the English commanders.
“I thank you, my lords,” he said bowing to them, “for this opportunity. When shall we be off?”
The two men could not forbear a smile.
“There is no hurry, Devereaux,” said Lord Howard. “It will be after night falls before the ships are started. Art sure that the peril is well understood? It may be that you will not come back.”
“It may be so, sir,” answered the young man. “Sir Francis or any one of us may be taken in the next engagement. But who would preserve life if by giving it he may keep England and England’s queen from the invader?”
“Spoken like a true Englishman, lad,” cried Drake heartily. “Now, my lord, these two will return with me and, in God’s name, with my two Devon men we shall this night so put upon the Spaniards as they shall ne’er dream of setting foot on English soil again.”
“Go,” said the lord admiral placing an arm about the neck of each. “Go, my lads. My hopes and prayers go with you. And 317 should aught happen to ye, the queen shall know that ye died in her service. And so fare you well.”
“Fare you well,” answered they both and followed after Drake to his own boat—The Revenge.
About two o’clock Monday morning eight ships smeared all over the outside with pitch and rosin, their ordnance loaded with stones and bullets and filled with sulphur and other materials suddenly combustible glided out from among the English fleet and took their way silently toward the Spanish ships lying so serenely at anchor. The night was cloudy. The moon was late in its last quarter and did not rise till morning. The darkness favored their enterprise. The wind blew in long, low gusts from the westward which drove them full upon the Armada. Presently as the dark forms of the ships bore full upon the Spanish vessels a tiny spark of light gleamed like a twinkling star at the stern of the boats. For a second it wavered and flickered and then in a moment more a red glare lighted up the heavens and cast a lurid glow upon the two fleets, the cliffs of England and the sea and 318 showing plainly two boats—with Young and Prowse, the two men of Devon in one; Francis and Edward in the other.
With a rush and roar the flames leaped madly from stem to stern and up through all the rigging sending out great tongues of fire forward, backward, sideways threatening total destruction to anything that came within their reach.
“Pull, Francis,” cried Devereaux bending with desperate strength to the oars. “Pull for your life.”
The girl obeyed with a will. And now from the ships of Spain there went up a fearful cry. A panic seized upon them at sight of those awful burning vessels. They cried out that not only was there danger of fire but that they contained deadly engines also. Everything was in confusion. Panic-stricken they weighed anchor, cut their cables, hoisted their sails and struck for the open sea, every ship afoul of her neighbor. A huge galleass had her rudder broken and drifted helplessly with the tide.
“PULL, PULL FOR YOUR LIFE!”
With shouts and cries of joy the English fleet sailed after the Armada. Meantime the small boats pulled hastily for the nearest English vessel, but so suddenly did the Spanish scatter, and the English change to take advantage of their flight, that the position of the boats became dangerous in the extreme: for what with the high wind, the burning ships, the rolling of the deep, the helter-skelter flight of the Armada and the pursuit of the English their position was, to say the least, precarious.
Devereaux changed the course of his boat several times, but as he was borne in spite of himself among the Spanish vessels he cried despairingly to Francis,
“It is of no avail, Francis. We must die.”
“Look!” was the girl’s reply.
Full well upon them bore a galleon, The Saint Matthew.
“Dogs of heretics,” cried the commander from the poop of the vessel, “die!”
“Ned, dear Ned!” shrieked Francis, throwing herself upon him, striving to shield him from the bullets and arrows that rained about them. The lad gave her one look, and opened his lips to reply when, with a shout of wild joy from the sailors, The Revenge glided in 320 between the frail bark and her towering foe.
“Heave ho,” cried Francis Drake in stentorian tones. “Lie to, my lads. Did’st think we’d leave such likely lads to perish? Nay; below with ye,” as they were pulled on deck. “Ye have done your part. The rest of us will now bear the brunt of action.”
And the English fleet swept on to deal the final blow to His Most Catholic Majesty, Philip of Spain’s, Invincible Armada.