The innkeepers and victuallers of Canterbury, Southampton, Winchester, Plymouth, and elsewhere wrote dunning letters to the Queen for money due for stores supplied. The Dutch shipmasters commanding the flyboat transports contributed by the States formally protested and refused to put to sea with such insufficient provender as they had; and, just as it looked as if the expedition would break down for good, there came providentially into the harbour a Flemish ship with a cargo of dried herrings, another with five hundred pipes of wine, and above all a sloop loaded with barley. These provisions were promptly transferred to the fleet to the dismay of the masters, who protested for many a day afterwards, fruitlessly, against the confiscation of their cargoes. The expedition was declared ready for sea, but then came tales of contrary winds that kept them in and out of harbour for several days more; and one day, whilst they were thus detained, the Queen's kinsman, Knollys, comes post haste from London. Had anybody seen or heard anything of the young Earl of Essex, the Queen's last new pet? Curiously enough nobody had, although only the day before a party of young gallants had dashed into Plymouth from London all dusty and travel-stained, and had been received with open arms by the courtiers and {28} officers on the fleet. Hot-blooded Essex, with all the thoughtlessness of his twenty-two years, tired of sickly dallying with an old lady and of squabbling with Raleigh, tired of his debts, his duns and duties as prime favourite, had made up his mind to see some fun, and had fled against the Queen's orders. No one had seen him of course, but the _Swiftsure_, with Sir Roger Williams, the general second in command of the army, mysteriously left the harbour as soon as Knollys had told his tale. But a few hours later the Earl of Huntingdon came with warrants of arrest and all manner of peremptory papers, and Drake saw the matter was serious. Boats were sent scouring after the _Swiftsure_, but could get no news of the missing earl. The other ships stayed in Plymouth ten days longer for a fair wind, but the _Swiftsure_ came back no more until the expedition was at an end. Drake and Norris wrote nearly every day until they sailed disclaiming any knowledge of Essex or his intention to join the force, and expressing their deep sorrow; but the Queen did not believe them, and from that time had nothing but hard words and sour looks for an adventure that had robbed her of her favourite. At length, on the 13th of April 1589, (O.S.), the expedition finally left Plymouth, but even then it was only a feint in order that the men might be kept together and not stray on shore and get out of hand. "The crosse windes held us two daies after our going out, the Generalls being wearie thrust to sea in the same wisely chosing rather to attend a change out there than to lose it when it came by having their men on shoare."