NATIONAL SERVICE IN THE PAST. WHEN THERE WAS NO FLEET.
"IN the days of the Edwards and the Henrys "The low red glare to southward when the raided coast towns burn"
was a frequent phenomenon on either side of the Channel. War, sometimes caused by the quarrels of the sailors, some- times by the ambition of the Kings, was the normal state; peace the rare exception. And as there was no regular fleet to defend, or to restrain, the Channel ports were little better than nests of pirates and the warfare became soon more murderous as one outrage provoked another. Chaucer's " Schipman who If that he fought and had the higher hand By water he sent them home to every land" is a type generalised from a hundred individuals. Naturally this state of things bred a stern race, full of courage and
resource, always ready for attack or defence. National service was the condition of their existence, as it was on the Scottish Border, or "in the dark and bloody ground" of Kentucky. One of the most notorious of these Southern townss
with a careless daring which was sometimes sharply punished, actually remained unwalled; trusting, perhaps, to the defence of its labyrinthine waterways and to the then broad line of lofty sandhills that masked the entrance to an almost land-
locked harbour, whose mudbanks, haunted by myriads of wildfowl, seemed defence enough even if an enemy passed the dunes. Twice at least this rashnees met with severe punishment; and the second time the town
was surprised when its leader was away with part of the at all times small garrison. A rare and curious Spanish chronicle gives us such a graphic account of this "revenge raid," and throws such a light on the state of these old sea-ports, and on the character of the inhabitants, that it is worth retelling.
The town in question was the headquarters of a famous freebooter of the Drake stamp, who was alternately corsair and King's Admiral, according to circumstances, and who, when not fighting under the Royal banner, was plundering Breton or Spaniard on the shores of the Bay of Biscay.
His name was dreaded from Cape Gris Nez to Finisterre, for of all the privateers who ravaged the North of Spain, he it was who came the oftenest, and he scoured the narrow seas so closely that no foreigner was safe. His raids naturally led to reprisals, and a gallant knight of Spain, El Conde de Pero Niiio, was commissioned to retaliate on the English coast. Joining company with a French knight, Pero Niiio sailed for the Channel, having previously done a little plundering on the Bordeaux coast. The united force, consisting of five galleys, worked steadily up the English coast from the Lizard, landing here and there with various success. Beaten off from Plymouth, they next tried Tortland, but the people fled into caves in the limestone, and though a few prisoners were made, the tide receding, allowed belp to come from the mainland, and the foe retreated. This looks as if Portland then was really an island at high tide. There was no temptation to land on the iron-bound shores from St. Aldhelm's Head to Peveril Point, and the Swanage quarries gave no portable plunder ; but, rounding Old Harry
at the entrance to Poole Bay, they learned that inside the line of dunes was the dwelling-place of the notorious "Arripay," as they called Henry Pape, the corsair already spoken of. Now was the chance for their vengeance. Far off over the sparkling waters of the inner harbour gleamed the cupola of a handsome tower (most probably the tower of old St. James's Church), "covered with tin and round like an inverted cup," and, favoured perhaps by a full tide, the galleys made the port safely. The leader was absent. The town was unwalled at that date. The Spaniards landed at once, but the Frenchmen held off. Surprised and taken at advantage as they were, there was no shrinking on the English side. Throwing themselves into a large stone building on the quay (most likely that puzzle of antiquariew, the old Town Cellars), the defenders made a gallant stand ; and when beaten from that defence they yet rallied in the narrow stone streets, and propping up the great iron-studded doors, which they took off their hinges, to protect them from the terrible crossbow bolts, the archers poured in their deadly arrows. It was Crecy over again on a small scale, and the- longbow showed its superiority as of yore.
The Spanish standard-bearer, who tells the story with a pardonable quorum pars magna fuit, gives us to understand that his men could not face the arrows. The crossbowmen, stooping to charge their arbalests, were at once shot down, and those who, like himself, were protected by armour were "fledged with arrows." He himself, standing firm, was a mark for the English shafts, but they were powerless against his maiL (Who does not think of Ivanhoe ? "Curse on thy. Spanish steel coat," said Locksley; "had English smith forged it then these arrows had gone through, an as if it had been silk or Bendel.") Meantime Pero Nino had been warned that his men were falling back, and, landing with more help, he raised the famous battle-cry of Spain, "Santiago y cierra Espafia!" (St. James and charge Spain !),—the war-cry that was to the mediaeval Spaniard what the Marseillaise was to the French Republican,—the war-cry which was destined to ring out among the callous of Mexico and in the passes of the Andes whenever and wherever the Spaniards met their foes in the New World, as it had done on so many fights among the wild sierras of their own land. The fresh charge drove back the English, but the raiders were unable to do more even though the brave brother of Harry Paye fell at the head of his men. They secured a few prisoners, and, returning to their galleys, rowed away down the main channel, and rounding North Haven made their way further up the English coast, meeting with various successes on the coast of Hampshire, duly chronicled (with a most amazing ignorance of geography) by the trusty standard-bearer. There is no English account of this event, so that we learn of the courage and resource of the pirates of Poole from the undisputable account of their enemies. It is with some pride that one contemplates such a manful stand, not, however, unmingled with reflection as to the low state of defence into which a century of peace under the protection of the regular Navy has brought us. In those days every man was a. soldier, and turned out at the call of duty without a moment's hesitation; but to-day a handful of Territorials represents the whole fighting force of a population of some thirty thousand, the bulk of whom are unarmed and untrained. Quaraoclo ceeirlerunt robusti, et arma bellica perierunt.
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