From all the coast around, provisions were sent in, both of food and munition: here a stand of arms from the squire’s armoury, there a batch of new bread from the yeoman’s farm: those who could send but a chicken or a cabbage did not hold them back; there were some who had nothing to give but themselves—and that they gave. Every atom was accepted: they all counted for something in the little isle’s struggle to keep free.
It is the little things, after all, of which great things are made. Not only the men who lined the decks of the “Ark Royal,” but the women ashore who baked their bread, and the children who gathered wood in the forest for the ovens, were helping to save England.
Even some Recusants—which meant Romanists—came in with offerings of food, arms, and service: men who, in being Romanists, had not forgotten that they were Englishmen.
About noon on the twentieth of July, the Armada was first sighted from Plymouth. She was supposed at first to be making direct, for that town. But she passed it, and bore on eastward. It was evident now that she meant to make for the Channel,—probably meant to use as a basis of operations, Calais—England’s own Calais, for the loss of which her heart was sore yet.
Lord Howard followed as closely as was consistent with policy. And now appeared the disadvantage of the immense vessels which formed the bulk of the Armada. The English ships, being smaller, were quicker; they could glide in and out with ease, where the “great wooden castles” found bare standing-room. Before the Armada could reach Calais Roads, early on the 21st of July, Lord Howard was upon her.
When she saw her pursuers, she spread forth in a crescent form, in which she was seven miles in length. Trumpets were sounded, drums beaten—everything was done to strike terror into the little English fleet.
“Santiago de Compostella!” was the cry from the Armada.
“God and Saint George for merry England!” came back from the “Ark Royal.”
Both navies struggled hard to get to windward. But the Spanish ships were too slow and heavy. The English won the coveted position. The “Revenge” was posted as light-bearer, for night was coming on, and the “Ark Royal,” followed by the rest of the fleet, dashed into the midst of the Armada.
Sir Francis Drake made a terrible blunder. Instead of keeping to the simple duty allotted to him, he went off after five large vessels, which he saw standing apart, and gave them chase for some distance. Finding them innocent Easterlings, or merchantmen of the Hanse Towns, he ran hastily back, to discover that in his absence Lord Howard had most narrowly escaped capture, having mistaken the Spanish light for the English.