The greatest point of vantage in all Plymouth is the great open space beside the citadel. It is the Hoe. What the Rialto was to Venice, what the Hard to Portsmouth, the Sandhill to Newcastle-on-Tyne, the Broomielaw to Glasgow, that was the Hoe to Plymouth of old. From it, let us never forget, on a memorable day of 1588, the “Invincible” Armada was sighted; that proud fleet which was to conquer England, and place the foot of Spain upon our necks, and the spiritual domination of the Pope of Rome over our consciences. History tells us that the King of Spain was not making that unprovoked attack upon us which the simple legends of an earlier and uncritical age would have us believe, and we know that he was but seeking a very natural revenge for the piracies Drake and others had long practised upon his ships and foreign possessions; both sides played the same lawless game, only in those days Spain was the richer country and her treasure galleons the easier prey. How did Elizabeth’s captains await the coming of the foe? Cheerily and calmly enough, though their ships were few and small, and parsimony at the fountain-head of State forbade the proper measures being taken in the teeth of this long-threatened danger. Stout hearts and ready seamanship, aided by the providential tempest that wrecked the stately ships of Spain, served our turn, and Old England came victorious through that time of storm and stress, as she has since come through many another, by favour of Providence and through the handiwork of brave hearts alone. Statesmanship and the proper preparations of Government had been to seek, as they commonly are. Was ever there another so happy-go-lucky—and so lucky—a country? I like—and all Englishmen must needs like—to think of the proud spirit of that gallant company of captains assembled upon the Hoe at their game of bowls, when news of the Armada sighted off the Lizard, and coming with the south-westerly wind up Channel, gave them momentary pause. There were gathered together Lord, Howard of Effingham, the Lord High Admiral of England, and with him were Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and other great captains, among others of lesser fame. It was like to be a crushing force that was advancing toward our shores, for it numbered no fewer than one hundred and thirty-five men-o’-war, with crews of 8,000 men and 19,000 soldiers. But so confident were that gallant company of their capacity to resist invasion that—so the story from that time has run—on the suggestion of Sir Francis Drake, who boldly asserted that there was plenty time to finish their game first and thrash the Spaniards afterwards, they elected to complete their bout of bowls.