The encounter of that day had been fearful. But when Lord Howard drew off to recruit himself, the Armada gathered her forces together, went forward, and cast anchor on the 27th in Calais Roads.

Here fresh orders reached her from Parma. Instead of skirmishing in the Channel, she was to a.s.sume the offensive at once. Within three days Medina must land in England. King Philip appears to have resigned his original intention of making the attack in person.

The Armada prepared for the final struggle. The young gentlemen on board meantime amused themselves by shouting sundry derisive songs, one of which was specially chosen when the "Revenge" was sufficiently near to be aggrieved by it: and Arthur, who had learned enough Spanish from his mother to act as translator, rendered the ditty into plain English prose for the benefit of Jack and Ba.s.set. The former received it with lofty scorn,--the latter with fiery vaticinations concerning his intentions when the ships should meet: and looking at the figure-head of the nearest vessel whence the song was shouted, he singled out "La Dolorida" for his special vengeance. A translation of the lyric in question is appended. [Note 4.] The speaker, it will be seen, is supposed to be a young Spanish lady.

"My brother Don John To England is gone, To kill the Drake, And the Queen to take, And the heretics all to destroy; And he has promised To bring to me A Lutheran boy With a chain round his neck: And Grandmamma From his share shall have A Lutheran maid To be her slave."

The prospect was agreeable. One thing was plain--that "the Don" had acquired a wholesome fear of "the Drake."

Sunday was the 28th: and on that morning it became evident that Medina meant mischief. The seven-mile crescent was slowly, but surely, closing in round Dover. The Spaniard was about to land. Lord Howard called a council of war: and a hasty resolution was taken. Eight gunboats were cleared out; their holds filled with combustible matter; they were set on fire, and sent into the advancing Armada. The terror of the Spaniards was immense. They fancied it Greek fire, such as had wrought fearful havoc among them at the siege of Antwerp. With shrieks of "The fire of Antwerp!--The fire of Antwerp!"--the Armada fell into disorder, and the vessels dispersed on all sides in the wildest confusion. Lord Howard followed in chase of Medina.

Even yet the Armada might have rallied and renewed the attack. But now the wind began to blow violently from the south. The galleys could make no head against it. Row as they would, they were hurried northward, the English giving chase hotly. The Spanish ships were driven hither and thither, pursued alike by the winds and the foe. One of the largest galleons ran ash.o.r.e at Calais--from which the spoil taken was fifty thousand ducats--one at Ostend, several in different parts of Holland.

Don Antonio de Matigues escaped from the one which ran aground at Calais, and carried back to Philip, like the messengers of Job, the news that he only had escaped to tell the total loss of the Invincible Armada. But the loss was not quite so complete. Medina was still driving northward before the gale, with many of his vessels, chased by the "Ark Royal" and her subordinates. He tried hard to cast anchor at Gravelines; but Lord Howard forced him away. Past Dunquerque ran the shattered Armada, with her foe in hot pursuit. There was one danger left, and until that peril was past, Lord Howard would not turn back.

If Medina had succeeded in landing in Scotland,--which the Admiral fully expected him to attempt--the numerous Romanists left in that country, and the "Queensmen," the partisans of the beheaded Queen, would have received him with open arms. This would have rendered the young King's [James the Sixth, of Scotland] tenure of power very uncertain, and might not improbably have ended in an invasion of the border by a Scoto-Spanish army. But Lord Howard did not know that no thought of victory now animated Medina. The one faint hope within him was to reach home.

Internal dissensions were now added to the outward troubles of the Spaniards. Seven hundred English prisoners banded themselves under command of Sir William Stanley, and turned upon their gaolers. The Armada spread her sails, and let herself drive faster still.

Northwards, ever northwards! It was the only way left open to Spain.

For four days the "Ark Royal" kept chase of the miserable relics of this once-grand Armada. When the Orkneys were safely pa.s.sed, Lord Howard drew off, leaving scouts to follow Medina, and report where he went. If he had gone on for two days longer, he would not have had a charge of powder left.

Five thousand Spaniards had been killed; a much larger number lay wounded or ill; twelve of the most important ships were lost; provisions failed them; the fresh water was nearly all spent. One of the galleons ran aground at Fair Isle, in the Shetlands, where relics are still kept, and the dark complexions of the natives show traces of Spanish blood.

The "Florida" was wrecked on the coast of Morven--where her shattered hulk lies yet. Medina made his way between the Faroe Isles and Iceland, fled out to the high seas, and toiled past Ireland home. The rest of the fleet tried to reach Cape Clear. Forty-one were lost off the coast of Ireland: many driven by the strong west wind into the English Channel, where they were taken, some by the English, some by the Roch.e.l.lois: a few gained Neubourg in Normandy. Out of 134 ships, above eighty were total wrecks.

So ended the Invincible Armada.

England fought well. But it was not England who was the conqueror, [Note 5] but the south wind and the west wind of G.o.d.

Note 1. This was the same Duke of Guise who took an active part in the Ma.s.sacre of Saint Bartholomew. He was a.s.sa.s.sinated at Blois, December 23, 1588--less than six months after the invasion of the Armada.

Note 2. The Greeks did not reckon by kalends. The Romans, who did, when they meant to refuse a request good-humouredly, said jokingly that it should be granted "in the Greek kalends."

Note 3. The name of Fleming's vessel does not appear.

Note 4. I am not responsible for this translation, nor have I met with the original.

Note 5. No one was more thoroughly persuaded of this than Elizabeth herself. Thirteen years afterwards, at the opening of her last Parliament, the Speaker thought proper to remark that England had been defended from all dangers that had attacked her by "the mighty arm of our dread and sacred Queen." An unexpected voice from the throne rebuked him. "No, Mr Speaker: by the mighty hand of G.o.d."

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE WRECK OF THE "DOLORIDA."

"And therefore unto this poor child of Eve The thing forbidden was the one thing wanting, Without which all the rest were dust and ashes."

"Heardst ever the like of the gale this night, Barbara?" asked Blanche, as she stood twisting up her hair before the mirror, one morning towards the close of August.

"'Twas a cruel rough night, in sooth," was the answer. "Yet the wind is westerly. G.o.d help the poor souls that were on the sea this night!

They must have lacked the same."

"'Twas ill for the Spaniard, I reckon," said Blanche lightly.

"'Twas ill for life, Mistress Blanche," returned Barbara, gravely.

"There be English on the wild waters, beside Spaniards. The Lord avert evil from them!"

"Nay, I go not about to pray that ill be avoided from those companions,"

retorted Blanche in scorn. "They may drown, every man of them, for aught I care."

"They be some woman's childre, every man," was Barbara's reply.

"O Blanche!" interposed Clare, reproachfully. "Do but think of their childre at home: and the poor mothers that are watching in the villages of Spain for their lads to come back to them! How canst thou wish them hurt?"

"How touching a picture!" said Blanche in the same tone.

"In very deed, I would not by my good-will do them none ill," responded Barbara; "I would but pray and endeavour myself that they should do none ill to me."

"How should they do thee ill, an' they were drowned?" laughed Blanche.

The girl was not speaking her real sentiments. She was neither cruel nor flinty-hearted, but was arguing and opposing, as she often did, sheerly from a spirit of contradiction, and a desire to astonish her little world; Blanche's vanity was of the Erostratus character. While she longed to be liked and admired, she would have preferred that people should think her disagreeable, rather than not think of her at all.

"But, Blanche," deprecated Clare, who did not enter into this peculiarity of her sister, "do but fancy, if one of these very men did seek thy gate, all wet and weary and hungered, and it might be maimed in the storm, without so much as one penny in his pocket for to buy him fire and meat--thou wouldst not shut the door in his face?"

"Nay, truly, for I would take a stout cudgel and drive him thence."

"O Blanche!"

"O Clare!" said Blanche mockingly.

"I could never do no such a thing," added Clare, in a low tone.

"What, thou wouldst lodge and feed him?"

"Most surely."

"Then shouldst thou harbour the Queen's enemy."

"I should harbour mine own enemy," said Clare. "And thou wist who bade us, 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him.'"

"Our Lord said that to His disciples."

"And are not we His disciples?"

"Gramercy, maiden! Peter, and John, and Andrew, and the like. 'Twas never meant for folk in these days?"

"Marry La'kin! What say you, Mistress Blanche?--that G.o.d's Word was not meant for folk now o' days?"

"Oh ay,--some portion thereof."