THE ARMADA OFF DEVON.

Otago Witness, Issue 1917, 17 August 1888, Page 29

THE ARMADA OFF DEVON.

A Sketch, for a Poem after Tennyson's ' ' Revenge." \ By Douglas B; W. SLADEN. I. " To eea ! The Spaniards follow me ! " So shouted Master Fleming, as he sprang upon the Hoe. Where Howard and Drake and Frobisher were waiting for the foe, And playing the old English game in the grand old English way, As though with foes upon them they had nought to do but play, ■ Till the foe was on their quarter With his fangs agape for slaughter, Then like Hell's incarnate devils Who make blood and fire their revels, To roar and rend and rive in shreds whoever dared the fray. " To Bea 1 it. And fight the Spaniards free" I Eang half a score of voices ; but our sturdy Francis Drake Cried, "We -will not quit our noble game for any Spaniard's sake. ■ My Lord and Sirs play on : We have time enough, I trow, To see who wins this now And afterwards to settle with the Don." ni. So they finished in full their game, And to-day we treasure its fame 'Mid the feats of light-hearted valour That have won our England her name ; And we pray when it comes once more For England to hold her breath, In the struggle of life and death, That men may be many to die With the smile on the lip and eye. Which has made these Armada heroes A proverb the wide world o'er. IV. They played till their game was done, And the Man of Victories won — Our terrible Sir Francis, who had swept the Spanish main And scourged the King of Spain. A Devon man was he, but bred in knightly Kent, Where back throagh stormy centuries our England's story went, To the days when men of Dover Fell upon the Norman's tra'n, And drave them heltering over To their native France again, In the Saint-confessor's reign. V. A wind rose in the night And roused the storm-wave's might, The Spaniard stretched full Beven miles in span from lett to right, And ho cried in his pride, "Will these English dare to fight ? " VI. The wind blew up from the West, And on the breaker's crest His galleons rolled unsteady, And his guns upon the lea Damped their iron lips in the sea, Till the oaptains were more ready To run for port and anchor than a grim sea-fight to wage ; But on their weather gage The little ships of England came scudding at their eaee, For they loved the narrow seaß, And they dreaded not the storm, Which round the Rame's dark form Flung a shroud of misty white, Like a ghost in the dead night. VII. Would the English dare to fight ? Does the leopard fear to leap On the monstrous buffalo, As he crashes, huge and slow, * Through jungle grasses. deep To some wide river sweep, When thirsty noon-hours glow ? Does the bull-dog shun the bull As strong and angerful As an elephant a-wrath ? Does the eagle flee the path Of the swan As it sails superbly on ? Nay. The buffalo shall reel 'Neath the leopard's deadly paws ; And the tall swan's back shall feel The eagle's deadly claws ; And the stately bulls of Seville Shall make revel • • Nevermore, i.For the bold torreador. VIII. Would the English dare to fight ? Aye, to fight and to attack ; And five ships heave into Bight Full upon the Spaniard's track. The admiral of England, And with him ships but four, Upon the Spaniard's rear-guari Their raking broadsides pour, Scudding all along the line. " Mother Mary, be it thine To help thy faithful servants to lay hands uponthese few Who sting their sides so sorely, but whom, once within their grat p. They could, like a nettle, clasp And hew them through." IX. But the Virgin they besought To their prayers she heeded nought ; And their canuon on the lee Still wtre choking in the sea ; While their cannon on the weather turned their angry mouths to heaven And tore the air with fruitless pray'r That the infidel might sink beneath their murderladen leviu. But the shot from their upturned lips Flew over the English ships, And the broad backs of the Spaniards, hulls of thirteen hundred tons, As they reeled beneath the gale, Caught, like hillsides, all the hail Which rained from the nimble English guns. x. And they fled. For the Spanish admiral signalled, from his towering mainmast-head, • " Close up the rear," and forthwith all up channel crowded sail, And it chanced that our powder and our shot began to fail : So they fled. XI. But a noble Capltana, as the galleon 3 clashed together In the cruel Channel weather, Lost her topmast and her bowsprit, and lay crippled like a knight Unhorsed in fight, Entangled in his Eurcoat and o'erburdened with his plate, And it fell to her to meet The great Sir Francis Urake returning late From chasing Flemish merchantmen in convoy of their fleet, " xn. " Now yield you," cried Sir Francis ; but the Spaniard answered, " Nay, You shall grant us terms tonciay. For I am Pedro Valdez, and my|raen be twenty score, All good fighters used to war, And of shot have goodly store ; And the snapping of a bowsprit and the falliDg of a mast Have not made our cannon dumb. We can welcome all who come ; And our welcomes shall be lusty while they last. Ye shall grant us terms to-day, Or right dearlj shall ye P"-y." XIII. And Sir Francis answered plainly, " I am Drake," And the Spaniards yielded them for his name's sake, Who had swept the Spanish main Like an island hurricane Since his fighting days began, And who fought more like a devil than a*man. xrr. That night the Capitana into Dartmouth safe was brought. The first-fruits of the battle for our faith and freedom fought, And whoso of you wanders to the Abbey barn atTorre May see the gloomy prison where, in brave old days of yore, The soldiers and the sailors of the great Armafla lay Till men marched them down to Plymouth— a» a proof of what I say.

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