Thus the chronicler: “The Spanish Invasion being brought to a crisis, after the most assiduous application of three whole years to fit out that fleet vainly named by the Pope the great, noble and invincible Armada and Terror of Europe.... King Philip gave orders for its sailing on the 19th of May 1588. It consisted of 134 sail of tall towering ships, besides gallies, galliasses and galleons.” The fleet carried 8766 mariners, 21,855 soldiers, and 2088 galley slaves; together, 32,709 men, irrespective of Spanish Dons and their attendants, priests, surgeons, and servitors of all sorts. First, and before all things, it was to be understood that the motives of his Spanish Majesty were truly religious--” to serve God, and to return unto his Church a great many contrite souls ... oppressed by heretics, enemies to our Holy Catholic Faith.” Britain, as usual, was unready; but a fleet was got together in only 50 days. The City of London being desired to furnish 5000 men and 15 ships, provided 10,000 men and 30 ships, and at this great crisis in our national life there was “such a zealous love and duty throughout the nation towards the Queen as is inexpressible.” Britons were Britons in the spacious days of Queen Elizabeth; “an uncommon joy and alacrity appeared in the face of every one. They were pleased with the thought of contributing, every man in his way, towards the defence of their country, their liberties, and their Queen.” The English fleet consisted of 80 ships manned by 9000 sailors, and not all those were available when the Armada was sighted off the Lizard, disposed in a crescent seven miles long from horn to horn; but when the Spanish admiral got back to Spain in late September he had but 60 sail out of his 134. Thus, with the loss of only one small ship and about a hundred men, England remained the mistress of the seas. Shame, loss, and dishonour had befallen her treacherous enemy. _Venit, Vidit, Fugit!_ And now, three hundred and twenty-two years after the winds and the waves had come to the aid of England, another fleet of vastly different character had been sighted from the Lizard--insignificant, relatively, in point of numbers, but immeasurably more powerful in type and armament. And once again a British fleet came out from Plymouth, to watch and, if need were, to fight the foreigner. After the first and unexpected appearance of the German battleships and cruisers off Plymouth--made known to London by the special _Epoch_ on Christmas Day--certain mysterious manœuvres followed. But when eager observations were taken early on the morning of Bank Holiday, not one German ship remained in view. Phantom-like the fleet had come, phantom-like it had vanished in the dark and stormy night.