monarch

In the early morning of the next day, the sea between Cornwall and Brittany Peninsula in France was full of splintered planks, torn sails and flags, and countless deaths were miserable and even killed. Burnt black corpses.In the following month, from time to time, a few rotting corpses would be sent to the beaches on both sides of the strait by the tide, and more corpses would become bones buried under the strait.

The remaining Spanish fleet assembled again on the west side of the Cotentin Peninsula. At this time, the total number of remaining warships had dropped to 120, and most of them were covered with bruises. The white sails were stained with cannon fodder and covered with bullets. Holes, and the plank of the ship is also covered with cracks and dents left by shells.Some warships had several feet of water accumulated in their bottom compartments, paralyzed on the sea surface like a clumsy whale, and could only rely on the tow of other ships to move at extremely low speeds on the sea.

For the Marquis of Santa Cruz, the only good news is that the remaining battleships are basically large sailing ships suitable for activities in the Atlantic Ocean. It is also difficult to control these warships in the rough Atlantic Ocean. Therefore, in yesterday's naval battle, few galleys successfully escaped from the encirclement of the Britons.Those warships that surrendered were considered lucky. As for those warships that were unwilling to surrender, the British sunk them all without much effort.Most of the oarsmen on these ships were poor wretches sent to sea by the Spanish courts for misdemeanors. They were chained to their seats, and when the battleship sank, they were dragged mercilessly into the icy sea by those chains. .

Facing the tragedy of the Armada, the Marquis of Santa Cruz was naturally discouraged, but the current situation did not have enough time for him to lick his wounds. The huge British fleet was approaching from the west at a faster speed.The Spanish fleet itself does not have a quality advantage, and now even the quantitative advantage has disappeared, so the only choice is to avoid its edge.

The Marquis of Santa Cruz left the seriously injured and slower warships in place, hoping to use these warships to slow down the pursuit of the British, while he himself led the remaining 98 warships to sail eastward at full speed.The tactic did work, buying the Spaniards four hours, which they used to throw the British fleet back by about 25 miles.

After the British fleet solved the broken tail abandoned by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, they resumed their pursuit of the Armada. By that night, the fleets of both sides could already see the shadow of each other's sails on the distant horizon.

The night of June [-] was a sleepless night for the senior officers of both sides. When the sun rose again, the distance between the two sides had narrowed to less than five miles.

Helpless, the Spanish fleet turned to starboard and headed for the French coast.

"They are going to seek refuge in the French port." On the bridge of the Britannia, Sir Hawkins put away his binoculars, and the corners of his mouth quivered like dead leaves in autumn.

Sure enough, as he expected, the Spanish fleet sailed almost close to the coast of France. Two hours later, they entered the Port of Boulogne-sur-Mer not far from Calais.

Boulogne-sur-Mer is a small fishing port. Its bathing beach is quite famous in France, and it can be regarded as a resort. Now it is the season when tourists come here.Tourists on the beach watched with curiosity and amazement at the large number of Spanish warships pouring into the calm bay, and the city's breakwaters, church bell towers and terraces of restaurants by the sea were packed with curious spectators.They watched with interest the weary Spaniards anchored in the port, and when their eyes moved to the distance, they would see the eager British fleet blocking the way out of the port.

The carriage of M. de Honecker, Master of the Harbor, arrived at the quay, where a rowboat awaited him, and as soon as he boarded it, the oarsmen rowed vigorously, and the boat, like seagulls circling over the bay, Skimming the sea lightly, galloped towards the leading Spanish warship.

The boat approached the Spanish flagship, and a rope ladder was put down on the deck. Mr. de Honecker, as if he was 20 years younger, grabbed the rope ladder and boarded the deck without help.

Once on deck, the lingering stench made Mr. de Honecker almost spit out the brunch he had just eaten.The summer weather made the wounds of the wounded extremely perishable, mixed with the stench of feces that is often seen on battleships, it attracted countless flies hovering on the deck.The wood under his feet was soaked in blood stains, turning the plank into a dark color like ebony. Although it was simply cleaned, it was still a bit sticky to step on.

Those disheveled sailors stood sluggishly on the deck, staring blankly at the port director who boarded the ship. They looked more like a group of zombies than living people.

The captain with a gauze on his head received the harbor master and led the nervous master down the stairs leading to the cabin.The stairs were still sticky. It was obvious that some liquid had flowed down the stairs. The director tried his best not to think about what the liquid was.

The two entered a dimly lit cabin at the stern, a few faint rays of sunlight came in from the small porthole near the ceiling, and a small oil lamp was placed on the table in the center of the room, with a soybean-sized flame on the wick It seems to be going out at any moment.

Sitting in an armchair behind an oil lamp was a rather haggard-looking officer, the lower half of his face covered with the bluish roots of newly grown stubble.He clenched his right hand into a fist and supported his chin, while his left hand unconsciously tapped lightly on the table.

Seeing someone coming in, the officer raised his head and cast his eyes on the Harbor Director who came in.Through the dim light in the room, the director noticed the dark blue under his eyes and the bloodshot like spider webs in his eyes - completely in line with the imagination of a defeated general for a person who has never experienced a battlefield.

"Are you an official of the French government?" The officer spoke French with a slight accent, which sounded like the tone of Gascons in southern France.

"I am the port superintendent of our port, Robert de Honecker, at your service." The port superintendent saluted.

"As for me, I am Spanish Vice Admiral, the commander of this fleet, Alvaro de Bazin, Marquis of Santa Cruz."

The Harbor Superintendent bowed again, "I am honored to meet Mr. Marquis."

He paused for a moment, "But I have to ask you a question, your fleet has entered our country's port without notification. What exactly does this mean?"

"I hope to avoid the wind and waves in your port." The Marquis of Santa Cruz stood up, "I hope my fleet will be treated kindly in your port."

"Wind and waves, sir?" The Harbor Master laughed dryly, "But I don't know what kind of wind and waves are there... As long as you go to the deck and look, you will find that the weather today is very good."

"There will be later." The Marquis of Santa Cruz replied coldly.

The Director of Harbor Affairs bent over rather embarrassed, "I must remind Mr. Marquis that in the dispute between your country and Britain, our country has always maintained strict neutrality."

"For sailors like us, it is an unshirkable responsibility to save the victims at sea. Many warships in my fleet are already unseaworthy. If you drive them out of the port, it is tantamount to seeing the dead in the storm. The rafts of the victims were left alone."

"But I must say," said the harbor superintendent, "the neutrality of our country..."

"Then I also want to remind you," the Marquis of Santa Cruz took a step forward. He is more than six feet tall and is looking down at the short and fat Mr. Harbor Superintendent at the moment, "Princess Elizabeth of your country and our country The king signed a marriage contract. At this time next year, she will become the queen of Spain. In the future, there will be a prince and princess who flow the blood of the two noble families of Habsburg and Valois. There is a strong blood between our two countries. Yu Shui's in-laws."

"And the island opposite is your country's sworn enemy. For hundreds of years, these English bandits have been rampant on the land of France. They robbed property, burned villages, slaughtered French men, and abused French women. To this day, their king still covets the throne of France and wants to extend his tyranny to the land of France."

"One side is in-laws, and the other side is blood feud. For France, can the two be equated?"

"These issues are not for me to comment on." The Director of Harbor Affairs smiled awkwardly, "I am just a humble government official..."

"Then please go to your superiors, if necessary, to the adults in Paris and the king of your country." The Marquis of Santa Cruz put on the airs of a great nobleman, as if his superiors ordered his subordinates, "You Tell them, all I want is to rest in your port for a while, and repair my warships, and we will pay a fair price for all labor and materials, until my warships can sail at sea again. , we will leave immediately, go to the sea to face our fate, and never come to embarrass you again, what do you think?"

"I think the king of your country would also like to see us cause more losses to the Britons." He added in a low voice.

"I'm afraid I have to ask Paris for advice." The port director held the sweat-stained gloves between his fingers, "Please forgive me for the time being."

"Please do yourself, sir, I am waiting for your news." The Marquis of Santa Cruz nodded, "In the meantime, if my soldiers legally purchase some food and ship repair materials from the merchants in your port, you Presumably there will be no objection, right?"

The Director of Harbor Affairs made a haha, and forced a smile. It seemed that he agreed, but he did not say the word "agree", bowed, and turned around and left the room.

The director disembarked from the big Spanish ship, reboarded the small boat he had come in, and rowed out from the Spanish fleet. He saw a large group of curious small boats gathered around the fleet, and those boatmen waiting for business on the pier were carrying Curious tourists come to see the excitement.There are also many small traders among them, selling fresh fish, bread, fruit and cheap wine to the exhausted sailors on the Spanish warships.

"The port is closed every night, and these people are not allowed to come into contact with the Spaniards." The director ordered to the secretary beside him with a livid face.

The secretary hurriedly opened the folder under his arm, took out a carbon pen, and wrote down the director's order, "What about the daytime?"

The director snorted coldly, and spit out a sentence through clenched teeth: "As they like!"

The boat quickly came to the pier. A tall and thin man saw the shadow of the boat on the pier and waved his hands funny, like a big praying mantis waving its pincers.

The Harbor Superintendent recognized it as one of his clerks.

As the boat approached the shore, the clerk ran up quickly and graciously held the director's arm, while the secretary on the ship was not to be outdone, holding the director's butt, and the two of them worked hard together. Before the director could react, he was caught Drag onto the pier.

"What's the matter?" As soon as he was back on land, the harbor master's style returned immediately, just like the giant Antaeus' strength came from the earth, and Hercules could easily strangle him by lifting him from the ground, but As soon as he was back on the ground, he became powerful again.

"A guest came to visit the house." The clerk looked a little nervous, and the smile on his face was stiff like a clown mask worn during a carnival.

"What important guest?" The director puffed out his stomach in dissatisfaction, and walked towards the carriage waiting for him, "I'm busy writing a report to Paris, you tell him to come back another day."

"But this guest..." the clerk continued with a smile, "is an Englishman."

The director stopped in his tracks, his face flushed red all of a sudden.

"British?"

"He claims to be a representative of the British fleet."

The director seemed to have been punched in the chest, and stomped his feet angrily, "Hi! Really... Is there no end? Why did such unfortunate things happen to me?"

He quickly boarded the carriage, tapped the sideboard of the carriage with his cane, and urged the coachman to leave quickly.

The harbor master's villa was a quarter of a league outside the town, with lawns in front and gardens behind.The fountain in the center of the lawn flows out cool spring water, and the grass has just been watered by the gardener, making it even cooler in the hot summer.

The Superintendent had no time to look at the well-groomed lawn and the English roses in full bloom in the garden. He strode up the steps and through the oak gate.

A British official with a cold expression was already waiting in the reception room. Seeing the director enter the door, he stood up, took off his hat, and saluted coldly.This person is of medium stature compared to the Marquis of Santa Cruz, but the sense of oppression he brings to Mr. Harbor Master is no less than the former.

"Permit me to introduce myself." The Englishman spoke French with that lingering blunt tone of the northern peoples who speak the Latin language. Sir Hawkins' order to visit you."

He took out his passport and identity card and handed it to the director.

The director took the document, and the information on it was exactly the same as what the stranger said, and the seal of the British Admiralty was stamped at the end.

"I don't know why I am honored to have your visit?" The director handed the document back to the British, motioning him to sit on the sofa in the middle of the room.

"The reason for my visit is right in the middle of your port, and anyone can see it." The Englishman's gray eyes stared indifferently at the Harbor Master. "This morning, a Spanish fleet entered the coastal waters without permission." Port of Boulogne, our government believes that this violates your country's status as a neutral country, so we ask your country to immediately expel the Spanish fleet and fulfill your country's obligations as a neutral country."

"I'm afraid this is a bit difficult." The port director felt as if he was going to have a stroke. "Spain said that their battleship was seriously damaged and it is no longer suitable for sailing...how can we drive them away in such a state?"

"If you let them repair in the port, then you are helping them." The British insisted, "If they are unwilling to go to sea, then at least their warships should be disabled. Collect their weapons so we may consider them repaired in your ports."

"I understand what you mean." The port director wiped the sweat from his forehead, "but you must understand that I really can't decide this kind of thing. I hope you give me some time. I need to ask Paris for instructions."

The Englishman nodded, stood up, and said goodbye to the director indifferently.

"I'm waiting to hear from you," he said to the director as he walked out of the room.

The Harbor Superintendent sighed and went to his study, where he had a long report to write.