“Most joyful I shall be,” said Farnese—­writing on one of the days when he had seemed most convinced by Valentine Dale’s arguments, and driven to despair by his postulates—­“to see myself with these soldiers on English ground, where, with God’s help, I hope to accomplish your Majesty’s demands.”  He was much troubled however to find doubts entertained at the last moment as to his 6000 Spaniards; and certainly it hardly needed an argument to prove that the invasion of England with but 17,000 soldiers was a somewhat hazardous scheme.  Yet the pilot Moresini had brought him letters from Medina Sidonia, in which the Duke expressed hesitation about parting with these 6000 veterans; unless the English fleet should have been previously destroyed, and had also again expressed his hope that Parma would be punctual to the rendezvous.  Alexander immediately combated these views in letters to Medina and to the King.  He avowed that he would not depart one tittle from the plan originally laid down.  The 6000 men, and more if possible, were to be furnished him, and the Spanish Armada was to protect his own flotilla, and to keep the channel clear of enemies.  No other scheme was possible, he said, for it was clear that his collection of small flat-bottomed river-boats and hoys could not even make the passage, except in smooth weather.  They could not contend with a storm, much less with the enemy’s ships, which would destroy them utterly in case of a meeting, without his being able to avail himself of his soldiers—­who would be so closely packed as to be hardly moveable—­or of any human help.  The preposterous notion that he should come out with his flotilla to make a junction with Medina off Calais, was over and over again denounced by Alexander with vehemence and bitterness, and most boding expressions were used by him as to the probable result, were such a delusion persisted in.

Every possible precaution therefore but one had been taken.  The King of France—­almost at the same instant in which Guise had been receiving his latest instructions from the Escorial for dethroning and destroying that monarch—­had been assured by Philip of his inalienable affection; had been informed of the object of this great naval expedition—­which was not by any means, as Mendoza had stated to Henry, an enterprise against France or England, but only a determined attempt to clear the sea, once for all, of these English pirates who had done so much damage for years past on the high seas—­and had been requested, in case any Spanish ship should be driven by stress of weather into French ports, to afford them that comfort and protection to which the vessels of so close and friendly an ally were entitled.

Thus there was bread, beef, and powder enough—­there were monks and priests enough—­standards, galley-slaves, and inquisitors enough; but there were no light vessels in the Armada, and no heavy vessels in Parma’s fleet.  Medina could not go to Farnese, nor could Farnese come to Medina.  The junction was likely to be difficult, and yet it had never once entered the heads of Philip or his counsellors to provide for that difficulty.  The King never seemed to imagine that Farnese, with 40,000 or 50,000 soldiers in the Netherlands, a fleet of 300 transports, and power to dispose of very large funds for one great purpose, could be kept in prison by a fleet of Dutch skippers and corsairs.