Philippa Carr: Lion Triumphant

These were the words which inspired us all.

And so we waited—some in trepidation and others, like Jake, with a frustrated impatience.

Then one day—it was July by then—and the nineteenth—the news reached Plymouth. The Armada had been sighted off the Lizard.

People came out of their houses, crowding the narrow cobbled streets. Rumor was in the air. There was excitement everywhere.

Sir Francis, playing bowls on the Hoe to while away an hour or so, said he would finish the game. There was time for that, and to bear the Spaniards afterward.

With Linnet, Edwina, Romilly and Jennet, I watched the ships sail out.

None of us spoke, but each understood the feelings of the others. Our men were going out to meet the greatest challenge of their lives. Their ships looked gallant enough with their sails billowing in the wind, but I trembled when I thought of the great galleons they must meet.

The Spaniards were in the Channel; they came with their much vaunted Armada. Our ships were dwarfs compared with theirs.

But as we stood watching them we believed in victory. So confident was Admiral Drake that he could beat the Spaniards that we all shared that confidence. Men such as Jake had never doubted it; and it was said that the Spaniards were aware of that strange certainty in the English ranks. They believed it was witchcraft, conjured up by the devil dragon.

I watched Jake’s ship, the Triumphant Lion, until I could see it no more. Carlos and Jacko each commanded two of Jake’s ships.

“Oh, God,” I prayed, “we shall beat the Spaniard, I know, but send back our men safe to us.”

All now know the outcome of the battle—how the mighty and dignified galleons were no match for the jaunty little English ships, how one of Drake’s squadrons lay before the harbors of Newport and Dunkirk and stopped all transport of troops from Flanders.

We know too how the English could make no impression on those mighty galleons and craftily waited until dusk when they set small ships ablaze and sent them among the galleons, so that the Spaniards finding fire on many of their ships, cut their cables and sought to get away, whereupon the English smaller and more agile craft captured some and destroyed others, although many escaped to drift along the Channel and out to sea or be washed up on the coasts where a hostile reception awaited them.

The spirit of men such as Drake and Jake Pennlyon was undefeatable because they knew they would succeed while the Spaniard feared to fail. The Spaniards were brave men doubtless, but they were no match for the English. The English were defending their homes; the Spaniard was out for conquest. Our ships could be victualed from the shore and pinnaces were constantly making the journeys to and from them.

Against us came the greatest fleet of ships ever, up to that time, to be put on to sea. What the Spaniards called an “Invincible Armada engaged in the Great Enterprise.” And it failed.

Back came the ships to the harbor. Linnet, Damask, Penn, Romilly, Jennet, Edwina, myself, we were all there waiting, our eyes strained to see the return of the ships.

Would they all return? Could we hope that all our men could come back to us?

I looked at Edwina, who was thinking of Carlos, and I took her hand. I understood her fears, for I shared them. And I thought back to my first meeting with Jake Pennlyon on this Hoe and how determined I was to fight him with all my might.

Please, God, I prayed now, let him come back. Let me go on to the end of my life with Jake Pennlyon.

What a day of rejoicing when they all came back. The Triumphant Lion was limping a little, but she was safe.

And her Captain? I was trembling, but there he was climbing into the boat.

The people were cheering madly. The news was all over the country. Bonfires were burning, bells were ringing. The Spanish Armada was broken and defeated. Some of those ships were drifting out into the ocean, some were being washed up on our shores. Few would return to Spain.

It was victory; and we owed it to our English seamen.

There was Jake. I ran to him and threw my arms about him. His eyes were shining.

“God’s Death!” he cried. “We’ve done it, Cat! We’ve wiped them off the seas! They’re finished. This is the end of Spanish power. It’s the beginning of ours. We’re going to be masters of the sea and the new lands. This is a day to be proud of. Yes, this is the day of triumph. The day of the Lion… My family, Cat, and my ships, my Triumphant Lion, this is the greatest day they have known. And the English Lion too, Cat, master of the seas! This is the triumph of the lions.”

I laughed at him. “You seem contented with your life this day, Jake Pennlyon.”

“Never more in my life.”

“If only you had a legitimate son, you’d be completely content.”

He looked at Linnet. “God’s Death!” he said. “I reckon my girl Linnet is as good as any son.”

She came to us then and slipped her arm through his; and the three of us walked home together.