At this juncture the lord mayor (Sir George Bond), having received information of the critical state of affairs and that a general engagement was imminent, issued his precept to the aldermen to summon the pastors and ministers of each ward, and bid them call their parishioners to church by toll of[pg 539] bell or otherwise, both in the morning and afternoon of this eventful Saturday, in order that humble and hearty prayers might be offered to Almighty God "by preaching and otherwise," as the necessity of the times required.[1671] Three days before (24 July) he had given orders for a strict watch and ward to be kept in the city, and for a goodly supply of leather buckets in case of fire.[1672]
Richard Tomson and the London ship Margaret and John.
After more than one consultation together, the English commanders determined to resort to stratagem. They sent for a number of useless hulks from Dover, and having filled them with every kind of combustible, sent them all aflame on Sunday night into the thick of the enemy. The result was a panic; cables were cut and frantic attempts made to escape what seemed imminent and wholesale destruction. The ships fell foul of each other; some were wrecked and others burnt. When Monday morning dawned only eighty-six vessels out of 124 that had anchored off Calais thirty-six hours before could be found, and these for the most part were seen driving towards the coast of Flanders. The English fleet at once prepared to follow in pursuit, but attention was for a time drawn off to the action of the flagship of the squadron of galeasses, a huge vessel which had become disabled by loss of rudder, and the crew of which were endeavouring by the aid of oars to bring into Calais harbour. The Lord Admiral Howard at once bore down upon her in the Ark, but the water proved too shallow. The London ship Margaret and John followed suit and, although of less tonnage than the Ark, got aground. Richard Tomson sent[pg 540] home a graphic account of the exploit that followed.[1673] Both ships sent out long boats to capture the rich prize as she lay stuck fast upon the harbour bar. Tomson himself formed one of the little band of volunteers. The boats were soon alongside the galeass, its huge sides towering high above them. There then ensued "a pretty skirmish for half-an-hour," wrote Tomson, "but they seemed safely ensconced in their ships, while we in our open pinnaces and far under them had nothing to shroud and cover us." Fortune at last favoured the attackers. The Spanish commander fell dead on his deck with a bullet through his head. A panic seized the sailors, most of whom jumped overboard and tried by swimming and wading to reach the shore. Some succeeded, but many were drowned; whilst those who remained on board signified their readiness to capitulate by hoisting a couple of "handkerchers" on rapiers. The English lost no time in clambering up the sides of the monster, and at once commenced plundering the vessel and releasing the galley slaves. They were only waiting for the tide to take their prize in tow and carry her off when they were warned by the governor of Calais against making any such attempt. They were free to plunder the vessel if they liked, but make prize of the vessel itself they must not, and this order the governor showed himself ready and able to enforce by opening fire from the fort. Tomson and his fellow volunteers were heartily disgusted at having after all to surrender their prize, "the verye glory and staye of the Spanish armye, a thing of very great value and strength."
The naval engagement off Gravelines 29 July, 1588.
This exploit being ended and the long boats having returned to their respective ships, the lord admiral started in pursuit of the Spaniards. Seeing them coming up the Spanish commander immediately prepared for action. An engagement—described by Hawkins as "a long and great fight"—took place off Gravelines and lasted six hours. The English pursued the same tactics as before, and with like success. Without losing a single ship of their own they succeeded in riddling the best Spanish ships through and through, and at last the Armada was forced to bear away towards the open sea. The English followed and made a pretence of keeping up the attack, but by this time nearly all their ammunition as well as food had given out.
The Armada driven northward.
From Tuesday (30 July) until the following Friday (2 Aug.) the pursuit was, nevertheless, maintained by Howard, Drake and Frobisher. On Sunday (4 Aug.) the strong south-wester which had prevailed rose to a gale, and the English fleet made its way home with difficulty. It was otherwise with the Armada. Crippled and forlorn, without pilots and without competent commander, the great fleet was driven northward past the Hebrides and eventually returned home in a decimated condition by the west coast of Ireland.
Preparations in the city for receiving sick and wounded, 29 July.
In the meantime the civic authorities took order for receiving the sick and wounded and administering to their comfort. Two aldermen—Sir Thomas Pullison and Sir Wolstan Dixie—were deputed (29 July) by their brethren to ride abroad among the innholders, brewers, bakers and butchers of the city to see that they did not enhance the price of provisions and that[pg 542] they well entertained all soldiers who arrived in the city.[1674] The City agreed, moreover, to re-victual the ships it had furnished and to provide them with munition and other requisites. A fresh tax was imposed for the purpose of "marine and land affairs."[1675]
Reports as to the fate of the Armada, July-Aug., 1588.