Part 67 (1/2)
Hereupon, on the night of August 10th, the envoy--”like a wise man,” as Stafford observed--sent off four couriers, one after another, with the great news to Spain, that his master's heart might be rejoiced, and caused a pamphlet on the subject to be printed and distributed over Paris! ”I will not waste a large sheet of paper to express the joy which we must all feel,” he wrote to Idiaquez, ”at this good news. G.o.d be praised for all, who gives us small chastis.e.m.e.nts to make us better, and then, like a merciful Father, sends us infinite rewards.” And in the same strain he wrote; day after day, to Moura and Idiaquez, and to Philip himself.
Stafford, on his side, was anxious to be informed by his government of the exact truth, whatever it were, in order that these figments of Mendoza might be contradicted. ”That which cometh from me,” he said, ”Will be believed; for I have not been used to tell lies, and in very truth I have not the face to do it.”
And the news of the Calais squibs, of the fight off Gravelines, and the retreat of the Armada towards the north; could not be very long concealed. So soon, therefore, as authentic intelligence reached, the English envoy of those events--which was not however for nearly ten days after their--occurrence--Stafford in his turn wrote a pamphlet, in answer to that of Mendoza, and decidedly the more successful one of the two. It cost him but five crowns, he said, to print 'four hundred copies of it; but those in whose name it was published got one hundred crowns by its sale. The English amba.s.sador was unwilling to be known as the author--although ”desirous of touching up the impudence of the Spaniard”--but the King had no doubt of its origin. Poor Henry, still smarting under the insults of Mendoza and 'Mucio,--was delighted with this blow to Philip's presumption; was loud in his praises of Queen Elizabeth's valour, prudence, and marvellous fortune, and declared that what she had just done could be compared to the greatest: exploits of the most ill.u.s.trious men in history.
”So soon as ever he saw the pamphlet,” said Stafford; ”he offered to lay a wager it was my doing; and laughed at it heartily.” And there were malicious pages about the French; court; who also found much amus.e.m.e.nt in writing to the amba.s.sador, begging his interest with the Duke of Parma that they might obtain from that conqueror some odd-refuse town or so in: England, such as York, Canterbury, London, or the like--till the luckless Don Bernardino was ashamed to show his face.
A letter, from Farnese, however, of 10th August, apprized Philip before the end of August of the Calais disasters and caused him great uneasiness, without driving him to despair. ”At the very moment,” wrote the King to Medina Sidonia; ”when I was expecting news of the effect hoped for from my Armada, I have learned the retreat from before Calais, to which it was compelled by the weather; [!] and I have received a very great shock which keeps, me in anxiety not to be exaggerated.
Nevertheless I hope in our Lord that he will have provided a remedy; and that if it was possible for you to return upon the enemy to come back to the appointed posts and to watch an opportunity for the great stroke; you will have done as the case required; and so I am expecting with solicitude, to hear what has happened, and please G.o.d it may be that which is so suitable for his service.”
His Spanish children the sacking of London, and the butchering of the English nation-rewards and befits similar to those which they bad formerly enjoyed in the Netherlands.
And in the same strain, melancholy yet hopeful, were other letters despatched on that day to the Duke of Parma. ”The satisfaction caused by your advices on the 8th August of the arrival of the Armada near Calais, and of your preparations to embark your troops, was changed into a sentiment which you can imagine, by your letter of the 10th. The anxiety thus occasioned it would be impossible to exaggerate, although the cause being such as it is--there is no ground for distrust. Perhaps the Armada, keeping together, has returned upon the enemy, and given a good account of itself, with the help of the Lord. So I still promise myself that you will have performed your part in the enterprise in such wise as that the service intended to the Lord may have been executed, and repairs made to the reputation of all; which has been so much compromised.”
And the King's drooping spirits were revived by fresh accounts which reached him in September, by way of France. He now learned that the Armada had taken captive four Dutch men-of-war and many English s.h.i.+ps; that, after the Spaniards had been followed from Calais roads by the enemy's fleet, there had been an action, which the English had attempted in vain to avoid; off Newcastle; that Medina Sidonia had charged upon them so vigorously, as to sink twenty of their s.h.i.+ps, and to capture twenty-six others, good and sound; that the others, to escape perdition, had fled, after suffering great damage, and had then gone to pieces, all hands peris.h.i.+ng; that the Armada had taken a port in Scotland, where it was very comfortably established; that the flag-s.h.i.+p of Lord-admiral Howard, of Drake; and of that ”distinguished mariner Hawkins,” had all been sunk in action, and that no soul had been saved except Drake, who had escaped in a c.o.c.k-boat. ”This is good news,” added the writer; ”and it is most certain.”
The King pondered seriously over these conflicting accounts, and remained very much in the dark. Half, the month of September went by, and he had heard nothing--official since the news of the Calais catastrophe. It may be easily understood that Medina Sidonia, while flying round the Orkneys had not much opportunity for despatching couriers to Spain, and as Farnese had not written since the 10th August, Philip was quite at a loss whether to consider himself triumphant or defeated. From the reports by way of Calais, Dunkerk, and Rouen, he supposed that the Armada, had inflicted much damage on the enemy. He suggested accordingly, on the 3rd September, to the Duke of Parma, that he might now make the pa.s.sage to England, while the English fleet, if anything was left of it was repairing its damages. ”'Twill be easy enough to conquer the country,”
said Philip, ”so soon as you set foot on the soil. Then perhaps our Armada can come back and station itself in the Thames to support you.”
Nothing could be simpler. Nevertheless the King felt a pang of doubt lest affairs, after all, might not be going on so swimmingly; so he dipped his pen in the inkstand again, and observed with much pathos, ”But if this hope must be given up, you must take the Isle of Walcheren: something must be done to console me.”
And on the 15th September he was still no wiser. ”This business of the Armada leaves me no repose,” he said; ”I can think of nothing else. I don't content myself with what I have written, but write again and again, although in great want of light. I hear that the Armada has sunk and captured many English s.h.i.+ps, and is refitting in a Scotch pert. If this is in the territory, of Lord Huntley, I hope he will stir up the Catholics of that country.”
And so, in letter after letter, Philip clung to the delusion that Alexander could yet, cross to England, and that the Armada might sail up the Thames. The Duke was directed to make immediate arrangements to that effect with Medina Sidonia, at the very moment when that tempest-tossed grandee was painfully-creeping back towards the Bay of Biscay, with what remained of his invincible fleet.
Sanguine and pertinacious, the King refused to believe in, the downfall of his long-cherished scheme; and even when the light was at last dawning upon him, he was like a child, crying for a fresh toy, when the one which had long amused him had been broken. If the Armada were really very much damaged, it was easy enough, he thought, for the Duke of Parma to make him a new one, while the old, one was repairing. ”In case the Armada is too much shattered to come out,” said Philip, ”and winter compels it to stay in that port, you must cause another Armada to be constructed at Emden and the adjacent towns, at my expense, and, with the two together, you will certainly be able to conquer England.”
And he wrote to Medina Sidonia in similar terms. That naval commander was instructed to enter the Thames at once, if strong enough. If not, he was to winter in the Scotch port which he was supposed to have captured.
Meantime Farnese would build a new fleet at Emden, and in the spring the two dukes would proceed to accomplish the great purpose.
But at last the arrival of Medina Sidonia at Santander dispelled these visions, and now the King appeared in another att.i.tude. A messenger, coming post-haste from the captain-general, arrived in the early days of October at the Escorial. Entering the palace he found Idiaquez and Moura pacing up and down the corridor, before the door of Philip's cabinet, and was immediately interrogated by those counsellors, most anxious, of course, to receive authentic intelligence at last as to the fate, of the Armada. The entire overthrow of the great project was now, for the first time, fully revealed in Spain; the fabulous victories over the English, and the annihilation of Howard and all his s.h.i.+ps, were dispersed in air.
Broken, ruined, forlorn, the invincible Armada--so far as it still existed--had reached a Spanish port. Great was the consternation of Idiaquez and Moura, as they listened to the tale, and very desirous was each of the two secretaries that the other should, discharge the unwelcome duty of communicating the fatal intelligence to the King.
At last Moura consented to undertake the task, and entering the cabinet, he found Philip seated at his desk. Of course he was writing letters.
Being informed of the arrival of a messenger from the north, he laid down his pen, and inquired the news. The secretary replied that the accounts, concerning the Armada were by no means so favourable as, could be wished.
The courier was then introduced, and made his dismal report. The King did not change countenance. ”Great thanks,” he observed, ”do I render to Almighty G.o.d, by whose generous hand I am gifted with such power, that I could easily, if I chose, place another fleet upon the seas. Nor is it of very great importance that a running stream should be sometimes intercepted, so long as the fountain from which it flows remains inexhaustible.”
So saying he resumed his pen, and serenely proceeded with his letters.
Christopher Moura stared with unaffected amazement at his sovereign, thus tranquil while a shattered world was falling on his head, and then retired to confer with his colleague.
”And how did his Majesty receive the blow?” asked Idiaquez.
”His Majesty thinks nothing of the blow,” answered Moura, ”nor do I, consequently, make more of this great calamity than does his Majesty.”
So the King--as fortune flew away from him, wrapped himself in his virtue; and his counsellors, imitating their sovereign, arrayed themselves in the same garment. Thus draped, they were all prepared to bide the pelting of the storm which was only beating figuratively on their heads, while it had been das.h.i.+ng the King's mighty galleons on the rocks, and drowning by thousands the wretched victims of his ambition.