In the harbor lay the
English fleet with which they had just returned from a cruise to Corunna
in search of information respecting the real condition and movements of
the hostile armada. Lord Howard had ascertained that our enemies, though
tempest-tossed, were still formidably strong; and, fearing that part of
their fleet might make for England in his absence, he had hurried back
to the Devonshire coast. He resumed his station at Plymouth, and waited
there for certain tidings of the Spaniards' approach.
A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other high
officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed vessel was seen
running before the wind into Plymouth harbor with all sails set. Her
commander landed in haste, and eagerly sought the place where the
English lord admiral and his captains were standing. His name was
Fleming; he was the master of a Scotch privateer; and he told the
English officers that he had that morning seen the Spanish Armada off
the Cornish coast. At this exciting information the captains began to
hurry down to the water, and there was a shouting for the ships' boats;
but Drake coolly checked his comrades, and insisted that the match
should be played out. He said that there was plenty of time both to win
the game and beat the Spaniards.
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