The
Queen had ordered that there was to be no landing on Spanish soil. At
Cadiz the order had been observed. There had been no need to land. Here
at Faro there had been direct defiance of her Majesty's command. He
became so loud in his clamours that Drake found it necessary to lock him
up in his own cabin, and at length to send him home with his ship to
complain. For himself, as the expected fleet from the Straits did not
appear, and as he had shaken off his troublesome second in command, he
proceeded leisurely up the coast, intending to look in at Lisbon and see
for himself how things were going on there. All along as he went he fell
in with traders loaded with supplies for the use of the Armada. All
these he destroyed as he advanced, and at length found himself under the
purple hills of Cintra and looking up into the Tagus. There lay gathered
together the strength of the fighting naval force of Spain--fifty great
galleons, already arrived, the largest war-ships which then floated on
the ocean. Santa Cruz, the best officer in the Spanish navy, was himself
in the town and in command. To venture a repetition of the Cadiz
exploit in the face of such odds seemed too desperate even for Drake,
but it was one of those occasions when the genius of a great commander
sees more than ordinary eyes.
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