Although the bark “Eliza,” in obedience to the orders of the Lord Admiral, quitted Leigh a few hours after the interment of Inez, several days intervened before she made Portsmouth. An account of her daring exploit at Lisbon reached that place before her; and, on her arrival at Spithead, she was hailed from the several ships of the fleet, as she passed by them to her anchorage, with the most stirring and hearty cheers.

Hildebrand’s instructions directed him, after he should arrive at Portsmouth, to put himself under the orders of Admiral Hawkins; and accordingly, when he had come to an anchor, he proceeded to render them obedience. Having waited on the Admiral, he became for a while his own master, and he then sought the presence of Sir Walter Raleigh.

Sir Walter received him with his usual cordiality; but he had no opportunity of conferring with him, as he had intended, on the aspect of his private affairs, or taking his advice on his recent troubles. He learned from him, however, the exact force and position of the fleet, and what it would probably effect. Hence he became aware, in the end, that it was quite ready for sea, and, indeed, had been about to weigh the day previous; but the intelligence that the enemy had sustained great damage from a storm, of which he was himself the author, had induced the Admiral to recall his order for sailing, and continue in port. He learned, also, that a letter (which was, indeed, no other than the one written by Evaline, informing him of the revelations of Don Felix) was lying for him at Sir Walter’s house, in the Strand; but, never thinking who had been its writer, he felt no anxiety respecting it, but was content that it should remain there till, whatever might be its issue to himself, the coming engagement with the invading armada should be some way decided.

He had been at Portsmouth a full week before the signal was given for the fleet to put to sea. It was a lovely summer’s morning, but a fine, fresh breeze, that made one’s heart bound again, blew from the shore, and carried the brave squadron past the Needles, and on to the Channel. The several ships, by order of the Admiral, here kept pretty close together, but still two or three shot ahead, and the fairy-like “Eliza”, though under slack sail, took the lead. She was thus sailing on, when, to the surprise of the whole fleet, she suddenly tacked about, and fired a gun.

As the report boomed over the water, a gun from the ship of the Admiral, Lord Effingham, rendered it a response, and a signal was hoisted for the fleet to close. Before the order could be well obeyed, a mass of tall masts, extending over an area of seven miles, and looking like a forest in the distance, appeared on the horizon, and announced the approach of the long-expected enemy.

The tremendous armament looked none the less formidable as it drew more near. One hundred and thirty ships, larger than any yet seen, bristling with cannon, and manned with armies, might have struck terror into an assembled nation; and how could one poor squadron array itself against them. The British navy looked like a bevy of cock-boats in their proximity. Still, however, it retreated orderly, and the Spaniards did not attempt to give it chase. As night fell, the two armaments were scarcely five miles apart. The night came on dark, and, covered by the darkness, the English Admiral, by a dexterous manoeuvre, suffered the Spanish fleet to pass him, and slipped to the rearward. Sir Francis Drake, to quote his own words, there “fell foul” of the heavier sailers of the armada, and caused them great damage. The wind had been pretty fresh hitherto, but towards daylight, which broke at an early hour, it dropped, and the forward ships of the armada were thus unable to return to the succour and relief of the rear, or lend them any support. On the other hand, the English fleet, being all smaller ships, could sail under a light wind, and harassed the rear with continual assaults. Thus they progressed for two days; but then, being more favoured by the wind, the Spanish ships drew close together, and bade the English defiance. The English Admiral began to apprehend that they would put into Calais, and, after recruiting there, sally forth with augmented force, and overpower him. He determined, therefore, to hazard a battle.

The Spaniards were formed in such excellent order, right across the channel, that it seemed impossible, on a first view, to find a vulnerable point in their whole line. The daring and experience of Drake, however, soon carried out a scheme by which such an opening could be effected.[A] Taking eight old ships, filled with combustibles, which he had brought with him from Portsmouth, he drove them forward as if they had been fire-ships; and directed them straight on the Spanish centre. As he had expected, the line was broken in a moment. With a promptitude that, considering his disparity of force, could not be too highly admired, he immediately bore down on the opening with his whole division. His manoeuvre threw the entire line of the enemy into disorder; and Lord Effingham and Hawkins, with the right line of the English fleet, availed themselves of their confusion to fall on their nearer extremity, while Sir Martin Frobisher bore down on its offset.

A terrible and deadly conflict hereupon ensued. The superior calibre of the Spanish guns, though so much higher from the water, threatened to blow the little squadron of Drake to atoms, but that gallant mariner met them undaunted. Wherever the danger was greatest, his puny figure was seen, like a shadow, flitting before his men, and animating them to renewed efforts by his example. But he did not continue long to fight with mere cannon. After a time, his division advanced, under cover of dense masses of smoke, to meet the enemy at closer quarters, and orders were issued for each ship to prepare to board. Loud cheers emanated from the little squadron as this injunction was carried into force. In despite of a tremendous fire, they quickly ranged alongside the enemy; and with the hardihood of English seamen, which laughs at danger, and defies death, proceeded to board them at the cannon’s mouth.

While these operations were in progress, the division of Lord Effingham, as was before stated, had attacked the enemy’s outer line. But, though an experienced mariner, the noble Admiral did not, in the outset, proceed so successfully as his assistant, the able and renowned Drake. In one respect, indeed, circumstances were not so favourable to his progress; for the line here was more compact, and not so easily entered. The consequence was, that, in trying to force a passage, his division was scattered, and each individual ship was left to itself. In this melancholy juncture, he became entangled, by a sudden gust of wind, between two of the enemy, each of which was sufficiently strong at once to overwhelm him. Still the intrepid patrician maintained the conflict, and determined, whatever should be the issue, to stand to the last. The overpowering force opposed to him did not suffer what would be the result to remain long doubtful. After a brief interval, it became evident that, despairing of sinking his vessel, they were preparing to board him. Just at this moment, however, another English ship, almost as large as his own, bore down to his rescue, and a thundering cry of “Raleigh! Raleigh!” rang through the air. His leeward enemy, being nearest to his ally, was hereupon obliged to defend her own self, but the foe to windward still prepared to board him. In a few minutes, her boarders, embracing a greater force than his original crew, of which not half were now effective, poured down her sides, and pushed on for his deck. The Lord Admiral received them hand to hand. On his side, all distinctions of rank, not excepting his own, were thrown aside, and every man fought under his own unaided direction. But, struggle as he might, no degree of heroism could withstand the imposing and constantly-increasing superiority of the Spaniards. Step by step, he was driven to the centre of the deck, and hardly enough of the ship remained to him, notwithstanding the inroads on his ranks, on which to maintain a stand. In this position, he was considering whether, as all hope was now lost, it would not be better to blow the ship up, when the whole vessel sustained a violent shock, and started to her very centre. The dense smoke prevented him from discerning what had occasioned the agitation, but he supposed, and truly, that some other ship, not seeing her in the smoke, had run into her bows, and so come in collision with her. The next moment, his conjecture was established; and a tremendous cry of “Clifford to the rescue!” with the rush of a host of feet, assured him of coming succour.

The tall form of Hildebrand, looking still taller in the smoke, soon incurred the Admiral’s notice, and filled his undaunted bosom with new ardour. The rescue swept down the deck like a thunderbolt. So rapid was its progress, that the Admiral scarcely had time, in the confusion, to draw back his men, so that it had nearly slaughtered friends and foes together. It cleared the deck in a moment; and, in the hurry of retreat, not a few of the Spaniards, rather than be captured, leaped overboard, and perished in the sea. The leeward ship had kept up a fire till just before, but she was now silent, and loud cries of “Raleigh! a Raleigh!” which rose from her deck, indicated that she had been boarded by the English. The cries were still in progress, when, covered with grime and gore, and flushed with victory, Hildebrand presented himself before the Admiral.

“Captain Clifford, thou hast done nobly!” cried the Admiral, grasping his hand. “But let us not tarry to talk. We must push our advantage to the utmost.”

“Mean’st thou to board the enemy, my Lord?” asked Hildebrand, touching his helmet.

“On the instant,” answered the Admiral. “Now, my lads!” he added, in a loud voice, “forward! for God and the Queen!”

A loud shout of “Hurrah for Effingham!” uttered by the whole crew, responded to his appeal, and all hands sprang to windward, and proceeded to clamber up the enemy’s bulwarks. They met no opposition. The enemy, without making the slightest resistance, struck his flag, and gave them quiet possession of the ship.

The atmosphere was now comparatively clear, and, from the more elevated deck of the captured ship, the Admiral could view, without interruption, the entire field of action. The battle was over. From sixteen of the enemy, alone a match for the entire fleet of England, proudly floated

Eight more had been sunk, five had been blown up, and the remainder, including the redoubted Admiral, were seen in full flight, followed closely by Drake. The invincible armada was virtually annihilated, and, as he turned to the lower deck, the Lord Admiral, with a proud smile, caught Hildebrand by the arm, and bade him thank God for victory.

“’T is a right glorious one, my Lord,” answered Hildebrand.

“And as thou hast behaved nobly therein, thou shalt be its harbinger to the Queen,” answered the Admiral. “Speed thee straight to thy ship, and make for Dover. Thence take horse for Westminster, and notify to her Highness, by word of mouth, what hath happed, signifying that I will further advise her thereof anon.”

“I will away incontinently, my Lord,” returned Hildebrand.