“My marriage cannot go on for ever, Maugan, that’s now clear.”
I stood beside her, already part wishing I had never come.
“Sue, when your marriage ends, then you must think it all over again. Until it does you laid down for yourself prohibitions that I asked you to break and you would not.”
“Yes, but it need not prevent our being within distance … Truthall is not so far from here—”
“It is too near—yet. Besides I cannot and wouldn’t leave Ralegh for any Arundell or any Howard. I don’t always admire him, but being in his company is living in another air. I can make it no plainer than that …”
“Oh, you have made it very plain!”
“Yes, but don’t mistake me. You are the wife of Philip Reskymer. If at any time you become the widow of Philip Reskymer, then that’s a new situation.” I touched her shoulder. “Until then I go my own way, and immediately my own way leads me on this voyage.”
“Which I say you should not take!”
“Which I shall take. I may come out of it with some prize.”
“Maugan, you could find a greater prize here.”
“There’s only one greater and that’s out of my reach. When it’s not, give me first news.”
“You’re dead to all—all reason.”
“Reason was never a complete answer, Sue. It never can be, between us.”
I did not stay to sup after all. When it came to the point I could not bear to see Philip Reskymer again. To wish a man dead, to rejoice in his ill health, is a damned thing. I rode home in the dark. Always, I thought, it was a mistake to come this way.
Chapter Four
Sir Walter reached Plymouth aboard his flagship with the supply ships straggling out behind him at nine o’clock on the morning of Friday the 21st. I transferred at once to Warspite where I shared a tiny cabin with Victor Hardwicke, but I saw little of Sir Walter during the next ten days, he being more often on some other ship than on his own. A great quarrel broke out at dinner aboard Due Repulse the first night Sir Walter dined there, it being concerned with some question of precedence between himself and Sir Francis Vere, leader of the land forces. Victor said he thought Sir Walter, bent on unity and agreement among the commanders, had been prepared to smooth the thing over; but his brother-in-law took up the quarrel and if Essex had not intervened there would have been a duel. As it was Arthur Throgmorton, though a Lieutenant-Colonel in Gerard’s, was dismissed the army and put under guard. It was not a pretty omen for the success of the expedition.
Even less so was the fact that the Lord Admiral and Lord Essex were almost at each other’s throats. Only my master’s new harmony with Essex was unimpaired.
Every day the army drilled on the Hoe, forming squares, advancing in line, wheeling in strict formation, while the gentry sat their horses discussing strategy or partook of dummy charges across the green. Two deserters were hanged by Essex’s command as a warning to the others.
At length orders were issued that all land companies should embark on the ships, this on the 31st, and the embarkation was complete by midnight. I have seldom seen a finer body of men: veterans nearly all, well clothed and well armed, over 6,000 strong, though short in cavalry: the army had perhaps 200 horses and the gentry a like number.
In the night three quarters of the great fleet warped out of Catwater into the Sound. At four o’clock in the morning of the Tuesday a gun fired from Ark Royal intimated that the fleet was ready to leave. At six Sir Walter was rowed back from a last conference saying that on Essex’s generous intervention Arthur Throgmorton had been released and allowed to rejoin his company.
It was a fine sunny morning with a fresh breeze from the north-west, not warm but invigorating. We had finished prayers and breakfast when Lord Admiral Howard flying his crimson flag set sail, followed by his squadron; the Earl of Essex, fluttering the biggest flag of all, orange tawny on a white ground, was next to go. The Hoe and all the land round was bordered black with tiny people waving and watching. Next came the Dutch fleet, and then Lord Thomas Howard flying blue. It was after midday before we ourselves were under way, bringing up the rear.
Out of the harbour the wind had much freshened and the sea ahead was dotted as far as the eye could see with lurching and tossing ships. This was to be an exercise in manoeuvre before the fleet sailed in earnest. We warped and tacked all day between Rame Head and Fowey, for the most part in confusion but as the day wore on falling into a greater order.
Sir Walter went quickly to his cabin and was not seen again—they had joked at Sherborne that he was a poor sailor—but I had no better fortune and vomited from four in the afternoon until nightfall. Hardwicke, the delicate, stood the pitching and tossing without discomfort and laughed at my antics.
We passed the night uncomfortably off Blackbeetle Point near the entrance to Fowey Haven, and all the following morning plied up and down in pursuance of orders from the Lord Admiral; then, the wind backing about four in the afternoon, the whole fleet put back into Plymouth Sound and anchored in line all the way across to Cawsand. At eight a counsel was called aboard Ark Royal, and Sir Walter, his hair and beard looking blacker against his sallow face, commanded me to go with him.
It was a full Council of War, and for the most part I stood on deck with midshipmen, secretaries and others in attendance on the great men. But towards the end I was sent for and carried up papers Sir Walter had brought setting forth his views on fire-power in relation to shore batteries, a subject on which as usual he had original and controversial views.
In the great cabin were yellow lanterns hanging and gently swaying; lattice windows still light with the evening light; ten principal captains and five admirals; gold braid on blue velvet, silver braid on scarlet; jewelled sword belts with wrought leather. Wine cups stood on a baize-covered round table like sentinels about the littered charts; a few men were smoking, and the smoke rose to mix with the hazy breath and argument and wine fumes and the smoke of the lanterns.
Essex was speaking, his face flushed, as if argument had ruffled him. “Let us remember, my Lords, that this is a sacred cause, undertaken not primarily in search of gain but to preserve our country and our religion. To remind all of that purpose, services shall be performed thrice daily, at the morning, in the evening, at the cleaning of the glass …”
Presently Sir Walter spoke. I do not remember a word he said, only the tone of his voice. It was a tone I had heard him use only once or twice before. It deferred too obviously; it was full of flattery and ingratiation. For one who knew him well it was plainly insincere and used only with a purpose. In the seat of honour beside Essex sat the old Lord Admiral, white-bearded, hawk-nosed, a jewelled skull cap over his scant hair. On the other side of Essex was Lord Thomas Howard, me third in command. A man in his thirties with a sailor’s face, weather-beaten but arrogant and lean, he watched Sir Walter carefully while he spoke. These were the first two Howards I had ever seen, and after what Sue had said I stared at them with a new interest. As if some communication passed between us he lifted his head and his eyes looked me over assessingly; then he turned away and took snuff. A moment later and I was out in the summer evening again breathing a fresher air.
The following morning, which was the 3rd of June, the fleet set sail in earnest, Lord Admiral Howard leading off his squadron at ten, and ourselves weighing anchor shortly before four in the afternoon. The north-west wind had by now returned and it blew intermittently throughout the next days.
On the Friday Sir Walter called me up to his cabin. His desk was littered with books pulled from their shelves, and he was considering the optimum length-to-weight ratio of the galleon. From the behaviour of Warspite in the short time he had been sailing in her he had come to the strong conclusion that she was too short for her width, being in length only two and a half times her beam, which in Sir Walter’s opinion was a backward step in design; and that she was much over-gunned for a vessel of 648 tons: 36 guns, twenty of them heavy culverins, being like
ly to over-charge the ship’s sides in any grown sea. On these matters he wrote and talked for upwards of two hours; then, looking as exhausted as I felt, he dropped his pen and rang the bell for a cup of the cordial he had brought with him for seasickness; I took a cup as well, though I should have had more confidence if Katherine Footmarker had mixed it.
He was in a natural and approachable mood, and I asked him whither we were bound.
He said: “Our captains, except those at the council, still sail under sealed orders. If any are separated they make for Cape St Vincent.”
“Which is not Ireland or Blavet.”
“Which is not Ireland or Blavet.”
“I have heard it said, sir, that the Spanish fleet is concentrated in two ports: Ferrol and Cadiz.”
The ship lurched over a wave and slithered down the hind side.
“You are not ill-informed.”
“I was in the Groyne for a week, sir, never as far south as Cadiz.”
“I forget your Spanish adventures. But it does not entitle you to information not yet divulged to others.”
“No, sir. I can only guess.”
“And keep your guesses under lock and key … By the living God, I feel ill! It would be a humiliation to be laid aside at a time like this.”
“There must be many others the same.”
“No doubt most of the three hundred green-headed youths in their feathers and gold lace will be wishing themselves ashore again. But it is different for them. The leaders should be above physical frailty …” He took a sip of his cordial, and the whole cabin leaned and creaked as he did so. “Ships stink so foul of bilge water and foetid air, it does not give one a chance. Also there’s the heat and stink of the cook room directly under us. In merchant ships they sometimes build the galley in the forecastle … No doubt this does not worry my Lord Admiral, since he is a sailor born.”
“Lord Thomas Howard,” I said, “is a sailor too?”
“Oh, a fair one. Though no fighter. He commanded at the Azores when my cousin, Richard Grenville, fought the Spanish fleet alone. Howard commanded his squadron away and left Grenville to his fate. His action has been defended because he was out-numbered. I have openly said what I thought of his behaviour and there was to have been a duel fought between us, but it was stopped by the Queen.”
The wind was freshening and they were taking in the mizzen which was almost above us. Sir Walter’s cabin being four flights up in the poop.
“I should be happier in a world quite bereft of Howards,” he said broodingly. “Oil and water … we do not mix. But Lord Thomas is much to be preferred to his uncle, Lord Henry Howard. If ever you meet him I commend him to your study.”
“At Wednesday’s council meeting, sir, I thought none spoke with sincerity or candour.”
Perhaps fortunately he did not take the remark as directed at himself.
“Much between the Earl of Essex and the Lord Admiral is jealousy and the question of precedence … But on that I should not cast stones. When I arrived in Plymouth Francis Vere was claiming a position beyond his due, and we had hard words before it was settled.”
The ship lurched and the cabin seemed to turn in a semicircle.
“I know what you are thinking, young Killigrew: that if leaders may endeavour to be above seasickness, they should much more be above petty deceptions and small jealousies, over which they have some control. Well, I can tell you they are not. Greatness is a condition of brain and marrow: it is in no way connected with virtue, which is of the soul. Indeed, looking into my own heart, which is in essence the only one I shall ever know, it seems to me that the very faculties which make for excellence of talent and wit, make also for a deficiency of patience and humility and generosity towards one’s rivals and fellow men. In command I want command, not to dog at the heels of some strutting popinjay raised to his position by accident of birth. If there is equal talent in an equal position I do not acknowledge it, save grudgingly—as in the case of Vere—and he no less of me. Never equate the great with the good, young Killigrew, or you will suffer deeper disillusions than you are suffering now.”
“I confess I’ve an anxious thought for the success of an expedition in which all the leaders are at dagger’s point.”
“All leaders are always at dagger’s point where there is more than one leader. This is the flaw of so many enterprises. But take heart: some succeed in spite of it. This may; we are a formidable force. Eighteen of the Queen’s galleons, twelve great ships from the City of London, eighteen Hollanders, many transports and victuallers capable of fighting on their own behalf. We may meet the Spanish fleet at sea; if not we shall sweep wide with our pinnaces and fast craft to pick up all small vessels as we go, so that none may turn and fly ahead with news of our coming. This is what I have been waiting for for five years, to avenge my cousin Grenville and the men who died with him!”
I saw much of Sir Walter during the next few days. Confined as he was to his own warship, his restless energies had no suitable outlet. Once his sickness had lessened he was ever about, inspecting the guns, talking with the gunners, plotting our course with Captain Oakes. Warspite was a fine new ship, but as Sir Walter said, already stinking of the foul water which slapped about in her bilges. I would not have liked to be a common sailor, for it was not possible to walk upright between decks, the clearance being not above five feet, and the men slept side by side on the decks with only some fourteen inches of space to lie in. There was little light or air below because, except in the calmest seas, the gun ports had to be kept closed and there was small hope of healthful rest or cleanliness.
So as to be less conspicuous to the casual sail, our fleet spread wide in extended order during the day and drew together at nightfall with the sound of trumpets blown and cheerful shouts from one vessel to another.
The Sunday was wild, and Warspite plunged and groaned like a coach in a muddy lane. Victor fell and sprained his arm. Monday and Tuesday were fair and calm, but this was followed by a gale coming up from the north-west, with rain, on the Wednesday afternoon. Great combers built up under the declining sun and moved after us, overtaking us so that we lurched to the top of them scattering spray and spume over the poop windows, poised high regarding a tossing grey-faced white-lipped world, and then yawed drunkenly into the valley behind. It looked more awful even than it felt, for while we were riding the crests other vessels around us disappeared into pits from which it seemed they would never climb, or swung at such strange angles to the hurrying seas that they seemed about to turn over and sink.
Days passed without sight of land or foreign sail. On Friday, the sea having fallen and the day being fair, Lord Admiral Howard summoned another council aboard his flagship, and Sir Walter embarked on a naval barge, this time taking Victor Hardwicke with him. I was left behind to think of Sue and to dream of battle and spoils. When the council was over, which was not until three in the afternoon, Victor took an early opportunity to whisper one word in my ear. It was “ Cadiz”.
The next day three fly boats, two from Amsterdam and one from Middleburgh, were chased and after a fight taken. The captured masters were brought aboard Warspite. Though Sir Christopher Blount, who had been concerned in their capture, tried to have them taken aboard Lioness, he was brusquely overruled by Sir Walter. Three days out of Cadiz, with a cargo of salt and wines, the Flemish master of the Middleburgh boat, entertained in Ralegh’s cabin with greater courtesy than Sir Walter had just extended to his soldier colleague, was forthcoming enough. Cadiz harbour, he said, was full of shipping, there being 20 powerful galleys of the Andalusian squadron, four of the great Apostle galleons of the Guard, two older Portuguese galleons and three of the new treasure frigates which were recently back from their defeat of Drake at Puerto Rico. In addition there were about 40 vessels of a treasure fleet loading cargoes for New Spain. No rumour had yet reached Spain of an English force approaching: it was widely thought that with the death of Drake and the fall of Calais all our energies would be turne
d towards defence.
News of such import was at once sent to the other admirals, while the three fly boats were searched and some of their cargo seized. That evening the sun was bloody as it set almost behind us.
We were now beating down the Spanish coast, and the following day about six in the morning we sighted the Burlings, which are islands off Vigo—the first land we had seen since the Cornish coast.
One night my master had Sir John Wingfield, a tall sombre soldier, and the Earl of Sussex to dine, and after they had gone he stood for a while beside me on the deck staring across at their receding barge.
“The days draw in as we go south,” he said. “ I fancy if there is one disadvantage to the lower latitudes, it is this. D’you feel homesick for England yet, Killigrew?”
“I have felt so often seasick that there’s been hardly room for the other.”
“Yet you must recall those English June nights when the sun seems barely to set at all; it stays in a blue cloud under the horizon reflecting light until it is time to rise again. There’s a harshness about tropical skies that I find less alluring. Perhaps all Englishmen, wherever they may settle, have an enduring picture in their hearts of soft summer cloud and blossom-scented wind and the night skies of midsummer.”
“I wonder how Mr Keymis fares in Guiana.”
“I wish we knew. Now there is a rich and lovely country where I would gladly see Englishmen settle … Yet perhaps he is the happiest man who moves no distance from his birthplace—or only travels often enough to return and appreciate it the more.”
We climbed up to his cabin. He seemed to want me to go in, so I did so, and he poured two cups of canary. The sea was slight tonight and the creak and dip of the ship, now one was used to it, was not displeasing. Out of the stern windows you could count the lights on the waters; the stars above were like reflections of them.
“Medina Sidonia is Captain-General of Andalusia,” Ralegh said, “and so responsible for the defence of Cadiz. I wonder if he will show a greater capacity for command than he did of the Armada of ’88. Though sometimes I fancy he has not been fairly judged … Well, we shall soon know …”
The Grove of Eagles Page 39
