By What Authority?

by Robert Hugh Benson

  CHAPTER II

  MEN OF WAR AND PEACE

  The following days passed in terrible suspense for all left behind atRye. Every morning all the points of vantage were crowded; the Yprestower itself was never deserted day or night; and all the sharpest eyesin the town were bent continually out over that leaden rolling sea thatfaded into haze and storm-cloud in the direction of the French coast. Butthere was nothing to be seen on that waste of waters but the single boatsthat flew up channel or laboured down it against the squally west wind,far out at sea. Once or twice fishing-boats put in at Rye; but theirreports were so contradictory and uncertain that they increased ratherthan allayed the suspense and misery. Now it was a French boat thatreported the destruction of the _Triumph_; now an Englishman that sworeto having seen Drake kill Medina-Sidonia with his own hand on his poop;but whatever the news might be, the unrest and excitement ran higher andhigher. St. Clare's chapel in the old parish church of St. Nicholas wascrowded every morning at five o'clock by an excited congregation ofwomen, who came to beg God's protection on their dear ones struggling outthere somewhere towards the dawn with those cruel Southern monsters.Especially great was the crowd on the Tuesday morning following thedeparture of the ships; for all day on Monday from time to time came afar-off rolling noise from the direction of Calais; which many declaredto be thunder, with an angry emphasis that betrayed their real opinion.

  When they came out of church that morning, and were streaming down to thequay as usual to see if any news had come in during the night, a seamancalled to them from a window that a French vessel was just entering theharbour.

  When the women arrived at the water's edge they found a good crowdalready assembled on the quay, watching the ship beat in against thenorth-west wind, which had now set in; but she aroused no particularcomment as she was a well-known boat plying between Boulogne and Rye; andby seven o'clock she was made fast to the quay.

  There were the usual formalities, stricter than usual during war, to begone through before the few passengers were allowed to land: but all wasin order; the officers left the boat, and the passengers came up theplank, the crowd pressing forward as they came, and questioning themeagerly. No, there was no certain news, said an Englishman at last, wholooked like a lawyer; it was said at Boulogne the night before that therehad been an engagement further up beyond the Straits; they had all heardguns; and it was reported by the last cruiser who came in before the boatleft that a Spanish galleasse had run aground and had been claimed by M.Gourdain, the governor of Calais; but probably, added the shrewd-eyedman, that was just a piece of their dirty French pride. The crowd smiledruefully; and a French officer of the boat who was standing by thegangway scowled savagely, as the lawyer passed on with a demure face.

  Then there was a pause in the little stream of passengers; and then, outof the tiny door that led below decks, walking swiftly, and carrying along cloak over her arm, came Isabel Norris, in a grey travelling dress,followed by Anthony and a couple of servants. The crowd fell back for thelady, who passed straight up through them; but one or two of the mencalled out for news to Anthony. He shook his head cheerfully at them.

  "I know no more than that gentleman," he said, nodding towards thelawyer; and then followed Isabel; and together they made their way up tothe inn.

  * * * *

  Anthony was a good deal changed in the last six years; his beard andmoustache were well grown; and he had a new look of gravity in his browneyes; when he had smiled and shaken his head at the eager crowd just now,showing his white regular teeth, he looked as young as ever; but theserious look fell on his face again, as he followed Isabel up the steeplittle cobbled slope in his buff dress and plumed hat.

  There was not so much apparent change in Isabel; she was a shade gravertoo, her walk a little slower and more dignified, and her lips, a littlethinner, had a line of strength in them that was new; and even now as shewas treading English ground again for the first time for six years, thelook of slight abstraction in her eyes that is often the sign of a stronginner life, was just a touch deeper than it used to be.

  They went up together with scarcely a word; and asked for a private roomand dinner in two hours' time; and a carriage and horses for the servantsto be ready at noon. The landlord, who had met them at the door, shookhis head.

  "The private room, sir, and the dinner--yes, sir--but the horses----" andhe spread his hands out deprecatingly. "There is not one in the stall,"he added.

  Anthony considered a moment.

  "Well, what do you propose? We are willing to stay a day or two, if youthink that by then----"

  "Ah," said the landlord, "to-morrow is another matter. I expect two of mycarriages home to-night, sir, from London; but the horses will not beable to travel till noon to-morrow."

  "That will do," said Anthony; and he followed Isabel upstairs.

  It was very strange to them both to be back in England after so long.They had settled down at Douai with the Maxwells; but, almost immediatelyon their arrival, Mistress Margaret was sent for by her Superior to thehouse of her Order at Brussels; and Lady Maxwell was left alone withIsabel in a house in the town; for Anthony was in the seminary.

  Then, in '86 Lady Maxwell had died, quite suddenly. Isabel herself hadfound her at her prie-dieu in the morning, still in her evening dress;she was leaning partly against the wall; her wrinkled old hands wereclasped tightly together on a little ivory crucifix, on the top of thedesk; and her snow-white head, with the lace drooping from it like abridal veil, was bowed below them. Isabel, who had not dared to move her,had sent instantly for a little French doctor, who had thrown up hishands in a kind of devout ecstasy at that wonderful old figure, rigid inan eternal prayer. The two tall tapers she had lighted eight hours beforewere still just alight beside her, and looked strange in the morningsunshine.

  "Pendant ses oraisons! pendant ses oraisons!" he murmured over and overagain; and then had fallen on his knees and kissed the drooping lace ofher sleeve.

  "Priez pour moi, madame," he whispered to the motionless figure.

  And so the old Catholic who had suffered so much had gone to her rest.The fact that her son James had been living in the College during herfour years' stay at Douai had been perhaps the greatest possibleconsolation to her for being obliged to be out of England; for she sawhim almost daily; and it was he who sang her Requiem. Isabel had thengone to live with other friends in Douai, until Anthony had been ordainedpriest in the June of '88, and was ready to take her to England; and nowthe two were bound for Stanfield, where Anthony was to act as chaplainfor the present, as Mr. Buxton had predicted so long before. Old Mr.Blake had died in the spring of the year, still disapproving of hispatron's liberal notions, and Mr. Buxton had immediately sent a specialmessenger all the way to Douai to secure Anthony's services; and hadinsisted moreover that Isabel should accompany her brother. They intendedhowever to call at the Dower House on the way, which had been left underthe charge of old Mrs. Carroll; and renew the memories of their own dearhome.

  They talked little at dinner; and only of general matters, their journey,the Armada, their joy at getting home again; for they had been expresslywarned by their friends abroad against any indiscreet talk even when theythought themselves alone, and especially in the seaports, where soconstant a watch was kept for seminary priests. The presence of Isabel,however, was the greatest protection to Anthony; as it was almost unknownthat a priest should travel with any but male companions.

  Then suddenly, as they were ending dinner, a great clamour broke out inthe town below them; a gun was fired somewhere; and footsteps began torush along the narrow street outside. Anthony ran to the window andcalled to know what was the matter; but no one paid any attention to him;and he presently sat down again in despair, and with one or two wistfullooks.

  "I will go immediately," he said to Isabel, "and bring you word."

  A moment after a servant burst into the room.r />
  "It is a Spanish ship, sir," he said, "a prize--rounding Dungeness."

  In the afternoon, when the first fierce excitement was over, Anthony wentdown to the quay. He did not particularly wish to attract attention, andso he kept himself in the background somewhat; but he had a good view ofher as she lay moored just off the quay, especially when one of the townguard who had charge of the ropes that kept the crowd back, seeing agentleman in the crowd, beckoned him through.

  "Your honour will wish to see the prize?" he said, in hopes of a triflefor himself; "make way there for the gentleman."

  Anthony thought it better under these circumstances to accept theinvitation, so he gave the man something, and slipped through. On thequay was a pile of plunder from the ship: a dozen chests carved andsteel-clamped stood together; half-a-dozen barrels of powder; the ship'sbell rested amid a heap of rich clothes and hangings; a silver crucifixand a couple of lamps with their chains lay tumbled on one side; and aparson was examining a finely carved mahogany table that stood near.

  He looked up at Anthony.

  "For the church, sir," he said cheerfully. "I shall make application toher Grace."

  Anthony smiled at him.

  "A holy revenge, sir," he said.

  The ship herself had once been a merchantman brig; so much Anthony couldtell, though he knew little of seamanship; but she had been armed heavilywith deep bulwarks of timber, pierced for a dozen guns on each broadside.Now, however, she was in a terrible condition. The solid bulwarks wererent and shattered, as indeed was her whole hull; near the waterline werenailed sheets of lead, plainly in order to keep the water from enteringthe shot-holes; she had only one mast; and that was splintered in morethan one place; a spar had been rigged up on to the stump of thebowsprit. The high poop such as distinguished the Spanish vessels was inthe same deplorable condition; as well as the figure-head, whichrepresented a beardless man with a halo behind his head, and which borethe marks of fierce hacks as well as of shot.

  Anthony read the name,--the _San Juan da Cabellas_.

  From the high quay too he could see down on to the middle decks, andthere was the most shocking sight of all, for the boards and themast-stumps and the bulwarks and the ship's furniture were all alikesplashed with blood, some of the deeper pools not even yet dry. It wasevident that the _San Juan_ had not yielded easily.

  Presently Anthony saw an officer approaching, and not wishing to be ledinto conversation slipped away again through the crowd to take Isabel thenews.

  The two remained quietly upstairs the rest of the afternoon, listening tothe singing and the shouting in the streets, and watching from theirwindow the groups that swung and danced to and fro in joy at Rye'scontribution to the defeat of the invaders. When the dusk fell the noisewas louder than ever as the men began to drink more deep, and torcheswere continually tossing up and down the steep cobbled streets; the dinreached its climax about half-past nine, when the main body of therevellers passed up towards the inn, and, as Anthony saw from the window,finally entered through the archway below; and then all grew tolerablyquiet. Presently Isabel said that she would go to bed, but just beforeshe left the room, the servant again came in.

  "If you please, sir, Lieutenant Raxham, of the _Seahorse_, is telling thetale of the capture of the Spanish ship; and the landlord bid me come andtell you."

  Anthony glanced at Isabel, who nodded at him.

  "Yes; go," she said, "and come up and tell me the news afterwards, if itis not very late."

  When Anthony came downstairs he found to his annoyance that the place ofhonour had been reserved for him in a tall chair next to the landlord'sat the head of the table. The landlord rose to meet his guest.

  "Sit here, sir," he said. "I am glad you have come. And now, Mr.Raxham----"

  Anthony looked about him with some dismay at this extreme publicity. Theroom was full from end to end. They were chiefly soldiers who sat at thetable--heavy-looking rustics from Hawkhurst, Cranbrook and Appledore, inbrigantines and steel caps, who had been sent in by the magistrates tothe nearest seaport to assist in the defence of the coast--a few of themwore corselets with almain rivets and carried swords, while thepike-heads of the others rose up here and there above the crowd. The restof the room was filled with the townsmen of Rye--those who had beenretained for the defence of the coast, as well as others who for anyphysical reason could not serve by sea or land. There was an air ofextraordinary excitement in the room. The faces of the most stolid weretransfigured, for they were gathered to hear of the struggle their owndear England was making; the sickening pause of those months of waitinghad ended at last; the huge southern monster had risen up over the edgeof the sea, and the panting little country had flown at his throat andgrappled him; and now they were hearing the tale of how deep her fangshad sunk.

  The crowd laughed and applauded and drew its breath sharply, as one man;and the silence now and then was startling as the young officer told hisstory; although he had few gifts of rhetoric, except a certain vividvocabulary. He himself was a lad of eighteen or so, with a pleasantreckless face, now flushed with drink and excitement, and sparkling eyes;he was seated in a chair upon the further end of the table, so that allcould hear his story; and he had a cup of huff-cup in his left hand as hetalked, leaving his right hand free to emphasise his points and slap hisleg in a clumsy sort of oratory. His tale was full of little similes, atwhich his audience nodded their heads now and then, approvingly. He hadapparently already begun his story, for when Anthony had taken his seatand silence had been obtained, he went straight on without any furtherintroduction.

  The landlord leaned over to Anthony. "The _San Juan_," he whisperedbehind his hot hairy hand, and nodded at him with meaning eyes.

  "And every time they fired over us," went on the lieutenant, "and wefired into them; and the only damage they did us was their muskets in thetops. They killed Tom Dane like that"--there was a swift hiss of breathfrom the room; but the officer went straight on--"shot him through theback as he bent over his gun; and wounded old Harry and a score more; butall the while, lads, we were a-pounding at them with the broadsides as wecame round, and raking them with the demi-cannon in the poop,until--well; go you and see the craft as she lies at the quay if youwould know what we did. I tell you, as we came at her once towards theend, I saw that she was bleeding through her scuppers like a pig, fromthe middle deck. They were all packed up there together--sailors andsoldiers and a priest or two; and scarce a ball could pass between thepoop and the forecastle without touching flesh."

  The lad stopped a moment and took a pull at his cup, and a murmur of talkbroke out in the room. Anthony was surprised at his accent and manner ofspeaking, and heard afterwards that he was the son of the parson at oneof the inland villages, and had had an education. In a moment he went on.

  "Well--it would be about noon, just before the Admiral came up fromCalais, that the old _Seahorse_ was lost. We came at the dons again as wehad done before, only closer than ever; and just as the captain gave theword to put her about, a ball from one of their guns which they hadtrained down on us, cut old Dick Kemp in half at the helm, and broke thetiller to splinters."

  "Old Dick?" said a man's voice out of the reeking crowd, "Old Dick?"

  There was a murmur round him, bidding him hold his tongue; and the ladwent on.

  "Well, we drifted nearer and nearer. There was nought to do but to bangat them; and that we did, by God--and to board her if we touched. Well, Iworked my saker, and saw little else--for the smoke was like a blacksea-fog; and the noise fit to crack your ears. Mine sing yet with it; thecaptain was bawling from the poop, and there were a dozen pikemen readybelow; and then on a sudden came the crash; and I looked up and there wasthe Spaniards' decks above us, and the poop like a tower, with a grinningdon or two looking down; and there was I looking up the muzzle of aculverin. I skipped towards the poop, shouting to the men; and the donsfired their broadside as I went.--God save us from that din! But I knewthe old _Seahorse_ was done this time--the old ship lur
ched and shook asthe balls tore through her and broke her back; and there was such a yellas you'll never hear this side of hell. Well--I was on the poop by now,and the men after me; for you see the poop of the _Seahorse_ was as highas the middle deck of the Spaniard, and we must board from there or notat all. Well, lads, there was the captain before me. He had fought cooltill then, as cool as a parson among his roses, with never an oath fromhis mouth--but now he was as scarlet as a poppy, and his eyes were likeblue fire, and his mouth jabbered and foamed; he was so hot, you see, atthe loss of his ship. He was dancing to and fro waiting while the poopswung round on the tide; and the old craft plunged deeper in every wavethat lifted her, but he cared no more for that nor for the musket-ballsfrom the tops, nor for the brown grinning devils who shook their pikes athim from the decks, than--than a mad dog cares for a shower of leaves;but he stamped there and cursed them and damned them as they laughed athim; and then in a moment the poop touched.

  "Well, lads--" and the lieutenant set his cup down on the table, clappedhis hands on his knees, laughed shortly and nervously once or twice, andlooked round. "Well, lads, I have never seen the like. The captain wentfor them like a wild cat; one step on the rail and the next among them;and was gone like a stone into water"--and the lad clapped his hand onhis thigh. "I saw one face slit up from chin to eye; and another splitacross like an apple; and then we were after him. The men were mad,too--what was left of us; and we poured up on to the decks and left theold _Seahorse_ to die. Well, we had our work before us--but it was nogood. The dons could do nothing; I was after the captain as he wentthrough the pack and came out just behind him; there were half a dozen ofthem down now; and the noise and the foreign oaths went up like smoke;and the captain himself was bleeding down one side of his face andgrunting as he cut and stabbed; and I had had a knife through the arm;but he went up on to the poop; and as I followed, the Spaniards broke andthrew down their arms--they saw 'twas no use, you see. When we reachedthe poop-stairs an officer in a blue coat came forward jabbering somejargon; but the captain would have no parley with him, but flung his dagclean into the man's face, and over he went backwards--with his damnedhigh heels in the air."

  There was a sudden murmur of laughter from the room; Anthony glanced offthe lieutenant's grinning ruddy face for a moment, and saw the rows oflistening faces all wrinkled with mirth.

  "Well," went on the lad, "up went the captain, and I after him. Thenthere came across the deck, very slow and stately, the Spanish captainhimself, in a fine laced coat and a plumed hat, and he was holding outhis sword by the blade and bowed as we ran towards him, and began somedamned foreign nonsense, with his _Senor_--but the captain would havenone o' that, I tell you he was like Tom o' Bedlam now--so as the Senorgrinned at him with his monkey face and bowed and wagged, the captainfetched him a slash across the cheek with his sword that cut up into hishead; and that don went spinning across the poop like a morris-man andbrought up against the rail, and then down he came," and the lad dashedhis hand on his thigh again--"as dead as mutton."

  Again came a louder gust of laughter from the room. Anthony half rose inhis chair, and then sat down again.

  "Well," said the lad, "and that was not all. Down he raged again to thedecks and I behind him--I tell you, it was like a butcher's shop--but itwas quieter now--the fighting was over--and the Spaniards were all runbelow, except half-a-dozen in the tops; looking down like young rooks atan archer. There had been a popish priest too with his crucifix in onehand and his god-almighty in the other, over a dying man as we came up;but as we came down there he lay in his black gown with a hole throughhis heart and his crucifix gone. One of the lads had got it no doubt.Well, the captain brought up at the main mast. 'God's blood,' he bawled,'where are the brown devils got to?' Some one told him, and pointed downthe hatch. Well, then I turned sick with my wound and the smell of theplace and all; and I knew nothing more till I found myself sitting on adead don, with the captain holding me up and pouring a cordial down mythroat."

  Then talk and laughter broke out in the audience; but the landlord heldup his hand for silence.

  "And what of the others?" he shouted.

  "Dead meat too," said the lad--"the captain went down with a dozen ormore and hunted them out and finished them. There was one, Dick told meafterwards," and the lieutenant gave a cackle of mirth, "that they huntedtwice round the ship before he jumped over yelling to some popish saintto help him; but it seems he was deaf, like the old Baal that parsontells of o' Sundays. The dirty swine to run like that! Well, he's got hisbellyful now of the salt water that he came so far to see. And then thecaptain with his own hands trained a robinet that was on the poop on tothe tops; and down the birds came, one by one; for their powder up therewas all shot off."

  "And the _Seahorse_?" said the landlord again.

  There fell a dead silence: all in the room knew that the ship was lost,but it was terrible to hear it again. The lad's face broke into lines ofgrief, and he spoke huskily.

  "Gone down with the dead and wounded; and the rest of the fleet a mileaway."

  Then the lieutenant went on to describe how he himself had been deputedto bring the _San Juan_ into port with the wounded on board, while thecaptain and the rest of the crew by Drake's orders attached themselves tovarious vessels that were short-handed, and how the English fleet hadfollowed what was left of the Spaniards when the fight ended at sunset,up towards the North Sea.

  When he finished his story there was a tremendous outburst of cheeringand hammering upon the table, and the feet and the pike-butts thunderedon the floor, and a name was cried again and again as the cups wereemptied.

  "God save her Grace and old England!" yelled a slim smooth-faced archerfrom Appledore.

  "God send the dons and all her foes to hell!" roared a burly pikeman withhis cup in the air. Then the room shook again as the toasts were drunkwith applauding feet and hands.

  Anthony turned to the landlord, who had just ceased thumping with hisgreat red fists on the table.

  "What was the captain's name?" he asked, when a slight lull came.

  "Maxwell," said the crimson-faced man. "Hubert Maxwell--one of Drake'sown men."

  * * * *

  When Anthony came upstairs he heard his name called through the door, andwent in to Isabel's room to find her sitting up in bed in the gloom ofthe summer night; the party below had broken up, and all was quiet exceptfor the far-off shouts and hoots of cheerful laughter from the dispersinggroups down among the narrow streets.

  "Well?" she said, as he came in and stood in the doorway.

  "It is just the story of the prize," he said, "and it seems that Huberthad the taking of it."

  There was silence a moment. Anthony could see her face, a motionless paleoutline, and her arms clasped round her knees as she sat up in bed.

  "Hubert?" she asked in an even voice.

  "Yes, Hubert."

  There was silence a moment.

  "Well?" she said again.

  "He is safe," said Anthony, "and fought gallantly. I will tell you moreto-morrow."

  "Ah!" said Isabel softly; and then lay down again.

  "Good-night, Anthony."

  "Good-night."

  But Anthony dared not tell her the details next day, after all.

  * * * *

  There was still a difficulty about the horses; they had not arrived untilthe Wednesday morning, and were greatly exhausted by a long andtroublesome journey; so the travellers consented to postpone theirjourney for yet one more day. The weather, which had been thickening,grew heavier still in the afternoon, and great banks of clouds wererising out of the west. Anthony started out about four o'clock for a walkalong the coast; and, making a long round in the direction of Lydd, didnot finally return until about seven. As he came in at the north-east ofthe town he noticed how empty the streets were, and passed on down in thedirection of the quay. As he turned down the steep street into theharbour groups b
egan to pour up past him, laughing and exclaiming; and ina moment more came Isabel walking alone. He looked at her anxiously, forhe saw something had happened. Her quiet face was lit up with someinterior emotion, and her mouth was trembling.

  "The Armada is routed," she said; "and I have seen Hubert."

  The two turned back together and walked silently up to the inn. There shetold him the story. She had been told that Captain Maxwell was come inthe _Elizabeth_, for provisions for Lord Howard Seymour's squadron, towhich his new command was attached; and that he was even now in harbour.At that she had gone straight down alone.

  "Oh, Anthony!" she cried, "you know how it is with me. I could not helpit. I am not ashamed of it. God Almighty knows all, and is not wrath withme. So I went down and was in the crowd as he came down again with themayor, Mr. Hamon; we all made way for them, and the men cheeredthemselves scarlet; but he came down cool and quiet; you know hisway--with his eyes half shut; and--and--he was so brown; and he lookssad--and he had a great plaister on the left temple. And then he saw me."

  Isabel sprang up, and came up to Anthony and took his hands. "Oh!Anthony; I was very happy then; because he took off his cap and bowed;and his face was all lighted; and he took my hand and kissed it--and thenmade Mr. Hamon known to me. The crowd laughed and said things--but I didnot care; and he soon silenced them, he looked round so fiercely; andthen I went on board with him--he would have it so--and he showed useverything--and we sat a little in the cabin; and he told me of his wifeand child. She is the daughter of a Plymouth minister; he knew her whenhe was with Drake; and he told me all about her, so you see----" Isabelbroke off; and sat down in the high window seat. "And then he asked meabout you; and I said you were here; and that we were going to stay alittle while with Mr. Buxton of Stanfield--you see I knew we could trusthim; and Mr. Hamon was in the passage just then looking at the guns; andthen a sailor came in to say that all was ready; and so we came away. Butit was so good to see him again; and to know that he was so happy."

  Anthony looked at his sister in astonishment; her quiet manner was gone,and she was talking again almost like an excited child; and so happily.It was very strange, he thought. He sat down beside her.

  "Oh, Anthony!" she said, "do you understand? I love him dearly still; andhis wife and child too. God bless them all and keep them!"

  The mystery was still deep to him; and he feared to say what he shouldnot; so he kissed Isabel silently; and the two sat there together andlooked out over the crowding red roofs to the glowing western sky acrossthe bay below them.