On Either Side
Of This Island Is A Passage, So Broad, That Navies Might Pass
Through At All Times In Safety.
The bay itself is oblong, running
far into the land, and so capacious, that a thousand sail of the
line might ride in it uncrowded.
The waters are dark, still, and
deep, without quicksands or shallows, so that the proudest man-of-
war might lie within a stone's throw of the town ramparts without
any fear of injuring her keel.
Of many a strange event, and of many a mighty preparation has this
bay been the scene. It was here that the bulky dragons of the
grand armada were mustered, and it was from hence that, fraught
with the pomp, power, and terror of old Spain, the monster fleet,
spreading its enormous sails to the wind, and bent on the ruin of
the Lutheran isle, proudly steered; - that fleet, to build and man
which half the forests of Galicia had been felled, and all the
mariners impressed from the thousand bays and creeks of the stern
Cantabrian shore. It was here that the united flags of Holland and
England triumphed over the pride of Spain and France; when the
burning timbers of exploded war-ships soared above the tops of the
Gallegan hills, and blazing galleons sank with their treasure
chests whilst drifting in the direction of Sampayo. It was on the
shores of this bay that the English guards first emptied Spanish
bodegas, whilst the bombs of Cobham were crushing the roofs of the
castle of Castro, and the vecinos of Pontevedra buried their
doubloons in cellars, and flying posts were conveying to Lugo and
Orensee the news of the heretic invasion and the disaster of Vigo.
All these events occurred to my mind as I stood far up the hill, at
a short distance from the fort, surveying the bay.
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