History of the United Netherlands, 1588c | Page 6

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.
With as much sluggishness as might have been expected from their
clumsy architecture, the ships of the Armada consumed nearly three
weeks in sailing from Lisbon to the neighbourhood of Cape Finisterre.
Here they were overtaken by a tempest, and were scattered hither and
thither, almost at the mercy of the winds and waves; for those unwieldy
hulks were ill adapted to a tempest in the Bay of Biscay. There were
those in the Armada, however, to whom the storm was a blessing.
David Gwynn, a Welsh mariner, had sat in the Spanish hulks a
wretched galley-slave--as prisoner of war for more than eleven years,
hoping, year after year, for a chance of escape from bondage. He sat
now among the rowers of the great galley, the Trasana, one of the
humblest instruments by which the subjugation of his native land to
Spain and Rome was to be effected.
Very naturally, among the ships which suffered most in the gale were
the four huge unwieldy galleys--a squadron of four under Don Diego de
Medrado--with their enormous turrets at stem and stern, and their low
and open waists. The chapels, pulpits, and gilded Madonnas proved of
little avail in a hurricane. The Diana, largest of the four, went down
with all hands; the Princess was labouring severely in the trough of the
sea, and the Trasana was likewise in imminent danger. So the master of
this galley asked the Welsh slave, who had far more experience and
seamanship than he possessed himself, if it were possible to save the
vessel. Gwynn saw an opportunity for which he had been waiting
eleven years. He was ready to improve it. He pointed out to the captain
the hopelessness of attempting to overtake the Armada. They should go
down, he said, as the Diana had already done, and as the Princess was
like at any moment to do, unless they took in every rag of sail, and did
their best with their oars to gain the nearest port. But in order that the
rowers might exert themselves to the utmost, it was necessary that the
soldiers, who were a useless incumbrance on deck, should go below.
Thus only could the ship be properly handled. The captain, anxious to
save his ship and his life, consented. Most of the soldiers were sent
beneath the hatches: a few were ordered to sit on the benches among

the slaves. Now there had been a secret understanding for many days
among these unfortunate men, nor were they wholly without weapons.
They had been accustomed to make toothpicks and other trifling
articles for sale out of broken sword- blades and other refuse bits of
steel. There was not a man among them who had not thus provided
himself with a secret stiletto.
At first Gwynn occupied himself with arrangements for weathering the
gale. So soon however as the ship had been made comparatively easy,
he looked around him, suddenly threw down his cap, and raised his
hand to the rigging. It was a preconcerted signal. The next instant he
stabbed the captain to the heart, while each one of the galley-slaves
killed the soldier nearest him; then, rushing below, they surprised and
overpowered the rest of the troops, and put them all to death.
Coming again upon deck, David Gwynn descried the fourth galley of
the squadron, called the Royal, commanded by Commodore Medrado
in person, bearing down upon them, before the wind. It was obvious
that the Vasana was already an object of suspicion.
"Comrades," said Gwynn, "God has given us liberty, and by our
courage we must prove ourselves worthy of the boon."
As he spoke there came a broadside from the galley Royal which killed
nine of his crew. David, nothing daunted; laid his ship close alongside
of the Royal, with such a shock that the timbers quivered again. Then at
the head of his liberated slaves, now thoroughly armed, he dashed on
board the galley, and, after a furious conflict, in which he was assisted
by the slaves of the